Another Kind of Remembrance

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.  George Santayana

Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.  Albert Einstein

When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.  Jimi Hendrix

Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.  Buddha

Lord make me an instrument of thy peace.  Where there is hatred, let me sow love.  Francis of Assisi

Peace begins with a smile.  Mother Teresa

Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, which you can walk with love and reverence.  Henry David Thoreau

While you are declaring peace with your lips make sure you have it even more fully in your heart. Francis of Assisi

Peace and friendship with all mankind is our wisest policy.  I wish we may be permitted to pursue it.  Thomas Jefferson

First keep peace with yourself, then you can also bring peace to others.  Thomas a Kempis

Imagine all the people living life in peace.  You can say I am a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.  I hope that someday you will join us, and the world will be as one.  John Lennon

 

What Works for You?

Now if that isn’t a loaded question I don’t know what is.  But let me quickly narrow down the possibilities in that question.  Specifically, what is working for you in your life?

I’m asking that question because a dear relative of mine spent most of last year questioning his purpose and wondering if he was where he ought to be.  He was young enough to take a plunge off into an adventure and using the words of Frodo Baggins “it’s a dangerous business going out your front door” off he went to find himself anew.

So I pose the question, is your life working for you as it is right now?  Is your day to day life giving you purpose and fulfilling the vision of yourself that you had when you were 6, 12 or 18?  Is any part of that younger person still in you or do you feel you are too old to have imagination, adventure or fun anymore?  Heck, if you are anything like me you still feel young inside even though your bones, muscles and organs protest every time you roll around in bed!  So just shake your head and then lie down on the floor, close your eyes and just think.

Remember when you lay in the grass with bugs hopping around you while sand slowly sneaked into your shorts or under your shirt.  Remember when you could hear the sound of the grass moving around your ears and you could feel the tickle of a fly whizzing past you.  Remember how the sun burned through your closed eyelids and you could make out daisies and tree shadows and maybe even a crow flying through the air.  Remember how you ignored your mother as she called for you to get up and not to get dirty.  Now start remembering when those feelings of being a kid left you.  When did that start to happen?  Was it when you entered high school, the pressure of homework, exams and thoughts of college?  Was it when you graduated and you wondered what was going to happen next, were you going to take a job, go hiking in Europe for a year or were you going straight into college to study for your dream job?  Or were you simply going to college to please your parents?  Oh, and then the marriage happened, the babies came, the mortgage needed to get paid, the kids needed new shoes, an education, a second car, keeping up with the Joneses, vacations, another mortgage, another car.  Obligations.  More obligations.

Stop the bus, I want to get off!

Here’s what I know for sure, life throws us all kinds of curve balls, some of them pretty darn hard.  But how we meet each one of those curves is what develops us into who we become.  It’s not for me to say how you should handle them but today I am asking you to take a look at where you are going and if things are working out like you want them to.  If not, it’s never too late to change your mental attitude and find the fun in life.  Because every time you open the door to your mind you can find that adventure.

Farewell Shirley Temple

Saying goodbye to Shirley Temple is like saying goodbye to childhood.  That is probably not how she would like to be remembered but one cannot avoid the fact that Shirley Temple was the biggest child star ever.  I remember seeing my first Shirley Temple movie at the age of 7, I believe it was “Captain January”, and wanting to be just like her, tap dancing and all.  Her movies were always light hearted, full of exploits and hardships but you were always sure of a happy ending.

There are any number of things to admire about this woman, her intelligence, her activism and her re-invention of herself but one of the things I truly admire is that she carried her celebrity with grace.  Despite being a pampered star and no doubt being a little wild within her circle no scandal ever attached to her and she grew up to be a responsible, respected citizen.  I remember when she spoke out about her breast cancer back in the early ‘70s and made it a platform to help others with breast cancer awareness.  She went on to a diplomatic career that earned the respect of career diplomats and dignitaries.  At all times she won friends and admiration for her grace and dignity.

Just like in her movies, Shirley Temple Black retained her dignity throughout her life.  Now that is a Class Act.

I actually have this autographed picture, slightly tattered!

Oprah's Salvation from the Middle of the Night

Oprah is more of a teacher than a do-er but I mean this in a good way.  Her strength has been in identifying talent, in empathizing with her audience and guests, and in building brand and appeal.  The latest “what I know for sure” in her January magazine declares that she must listen to herself rather than what others see as her “failure” with her network.  I think she needs to wake up and smell the coffee.  I have trolled her lineup regularly and there is almost nothing there that makes me inspired to pay for getting her channel added to my lineup.  And I’m a big fan of Oprah.  There is virtually nothing on this channel that interests me.

       As I lay awake one night I thought about what she could do to bring over an audience.  When 3 old soaps were going out she could have picked any one of the 3 up and she would have had a built in audience right away.  It’s probably too late to revitalize All My Children, One Life to Live or As the World Turns (was that the other one?) but I thought could it work to rerun one of them from the beginning with a lead in or close out chat talking about the storyline, the actors, the fashion of the day, etc.  I have no idea what the cost would be but I feel confident that this would bring in fans from the show – which number in the millions.

       I also thought that Oprah should do a Saturday night show of her own, perhaps something along the line of the old Loretta Young show where she could either narrate or even act on an episode, all episodes to be stand alone shows.  For one thing Oprah would be able to bring on new actors which she has clearly shown she has a talent for identifying (Dr. Phil, Rachel Ray, Dr. Oz, Nate Berkus, to name a few).  Or she could stay behind the scenes but start a new style of variety show for Saturday nights, anything that would compete with the sports currently shown on Saturday night would be a relief and preferably something without vampires or zombies!

       Finally why is she not creating her own shows instead of taking general meat market programs of no particular value?  Why isn’t she doing miniseries along the lines of Downton Abbey, Boardwalk Empire or Bomb Girls?  Why isn’t she using a format similar to the regular networks, with standing shows, news shows and talk shows?  Who wants to see a string of The Shopping Bags or any of the others shows that are 5 years old or more? 

       I’m asking where is Oprah’s sense of creativity and adventure.  It is not evident on OWN.  It is dull, cheap and lacking imagination.  I know nothing at all about running a TV show much less a whole channel but it is clear that there is no money being spent to make this into a really creative or innovative station.  If you are going to buy up old stuff, at least make it vintage and give it some lead in whoomph. 

       Just some thoughts from the middle of the night.

Alone or Lonely?

As I’ve lived alone for more than 25 years I can tell you the difference between being alone and being lonely.  Being alone is simply that, being in a place without others.  But being alone can be pleasant, whether one is simply sitting and thinking; working on a hobby, watching television, doing whatever, alone.  Being lonely is when a person feels isolated and that can happen when one is alone or when one is in a crowd.  Not a big surprise?

       You would be surprised at how many people actually feel lonely without recognizing the feeling of loneliness.  Sometimes these people will work desperately at keeping busy to avoid that feeling of loneliness and yet, as remorseless as time, it will be there because the person is not addressing that feeling.  I do not pretend to be a psychiatrist or psychologist but as I’ve written over the last couple of days, we all need to slow down and take a measurement of ourselves on a regular basis.  No one can feel completely healthy in mind, body or spirit without taking a figurative pulse of one’s mental state.

       I will notice my mother, who just turned 79, sitting quietly alone in the living room, sometimes in the dark.  I will come in to the room, flick on the light and ask her “what are you doing?” and she turns to me and says simply “just thinking”. Then I mentally kick myself as I realize that she is not lonely, she is simply meditating in her own way.  Then I break her spell and ask her to tell me what she was thinking and she looks delighted and prepares to expound on her latest revelation.

       My bad?  I cannot tell.

Whitney Houston

Last night I had some weird dreams involving big black guys with drug problems.  It must have been because of all the news on Whitney Houston.  Every 10 minutes, on the ones, there would be an announcement that her body was being flown back to New Jersey, and I had a very long drive home last night.  Sunday night there were countless news stories about her life as well.

       It is a sad story, 48 years old and gone, all that beauty and talent quieted forever.

       I was not surprised to hear of her death, with her story of drug abuse plastered all over the newsstands these past 10 years, it seemed inevitable to me.  A little bit more of the story comes out with the passing of hours.  Prescription pill bottles, submerged in bathwater, “family member” or “body guard” removed her from the bath . . . ah, there were others in the hotel room?  If they found no drug paraphernalia maybe that’s the reason why.

       I have a young friend on Facebook who doesn’t wish to believe that it was drugs until it is proved.  I actually understand why she is feeling that way since I’ve felt that on occasions too.  But life experience tells us when things are inevitable.  I think a better plea to the public is not to judge but to have compassion for all the victims who end up going down the same sorry path to destruction.

       No, this is not a rant against drug dealers (that is for another time).  This is to ask the question “why”?  Why do people start with the drugs?  I honestly do not get it.  With all the information available about drugs, with the school campaigns, good grief, with the pictures of what crystal meth does to a person’s teeth alone . . . no, I do not understand why anyone would take the first puff of marijuana never mind taking the other stuff.  I do know that some young people begin because they are in pain about other things in their life, but I ask, why aren’t you going to a counsellor?  Why is taking a pill easier than talking when you have heard what “drugs” will do to you?

       No, I do not get it.  But most especially, I do not understand how celebrities become addicted.

       All right.  I do.  They are stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

       Whitney Houston was a beautiful, beautiful woman with an absolutely amazing voice.  She had charisma and talent like few are given.  I do not know when she began on drugs, but she had many opportunities to break her habit and yet somehow she always slipped back.  If she had healthy, decent people surrounding her would that have happened?  Is this the same story as Elvis and Michael, a woman who has surrounded herself by sycophants who used her and abused her?

       Am I judging her after all?  No, I am just angry because just as everyone else who goes down that slippery path YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.  I’m sorry, I’m sad, but I am also angry.

Anxiety Attack

I woke up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding, as though I had had a scary dream.  I couldn’t remember what it was but since then I’ve spent an anxious night wondering about it and trying desperately to get back to sleep.  Restless nights are not fun.  Listening to the clock ticking away, wondering “what time is it now”.  Tossing and turning.  Trying to count sheep.  Think about something nice.  Don’t think about the clock.  What woke me up?

I am not feeling fresh as a daisy this morning, anything but, and now I have to drive through our snow storm to get to work.  Oh joy. 

So I am trying to think through the clutter in my mind to find a story this morning and nothing seems to be jumping out at me.  I was reviewing my “book” last night trying to find a story I could lift but nothing seemed appropriate. 

When I speak with my mother about my retirement and my hope to retire “early” she keeps warning me that I will be bored.  I am not listening to my mother.  Or am I?  I know I am dragging my heels about setting a date using the excuse of “not enough money”.  My mother thinks I will miss my connection with the world.  But when you are awake in the middle of the night you are about as alone as you are ever going to be.  It’s just you and your mind there in the grey black of the night.  And trust me, there is enough going on in that noggin that I feel sure I am never going to be bored!

Aside from the obvious reasons for wishing to retire the biggest release for me is simply Freedom.  I would like to get up in the middle of the night, bad dream or not, and just feel free to enjoy the night without being anxious that I have to be refreshed in the morning to go to work.  Do you ever feel so bound down by your routine that you feel like a slave? 

Freedom 6/49 ah, a beautiful dream.

The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

Do you ever fantasize about winning the 6/49 lottery?  When there isn’t a winner on Wednesday evening and the pot goes from 3 million to 6 million do you console yourself with the thought that more is better?  And as it escalates to 20 or 30 million do your dreams get more grandiose?  Finally, when someone other than you wins, do you then regress back to the modest dreams of the 3 million?

            Sometimes just having the hope of the dream is satisfying enough, at least for those of us who are somewhat settled in life.  I often wonder if winning such a big amount of money would be the breaking of me because, let’s be honest, I am somewhat of a control freak.  I tell myself that I would give away money freely, with no strings attached, but deep inside I just wonder if it is really true.  I’ve read a lot of biographies on wealthy people and seen the biographies on television and my observation is that when people have money they have a lot of sycophants surrounding them.  They don’t like to hear unpleasant truths and apparently misuse people dreadfully.  As well, they all seem to spiral into addictions, the latest fashionable addiction being sex.  Have you noticed that celebrities have “sex addictions” rather than being immoral bastards?

            The drug of choice back in the day was alcohol.  I read several celebrity biographies of the stars of the 30’s and 40’s and they had an “alcohol allergy”.  That’s what they called it to tone down alcoholism.  Today the rich and famous love cocaine.  The foolish ones experiment with a bunch of other drugs and when it gets too much for them they check in to The Betty Ford Clinic.  Somehow I cannot see myself spiralling out of control like that but as I say I remind myself when I am not the lucky winner that God is protecting me from myself!

            Yes, it’s Thursday morning and I have not received my Magic Phone Call – again.  It’s another day and another dollar for me.  I’d like to say that when the happy day arrives I will remember all the little people around me but as I will likely be 102 and well into senility I can’t make that promise.  But the heart was willing!

The Dream Machine

I think this was the title of a Jacqueline Suzann novel but I’m not sure if it had to do with Hollywood stardom or if it was about sleeping pills. What I would like to invent is a little microchip that can be imbedded in your brain so it can pick up the waves as you dream. Then you can put it into a computer and it will visualize your dream as a movie so people can see what you are trying to explain to them aobut your, oh so fascinating, dream! Yes, I had another dream of which I remember nothing except that it was disturbing! The gist will probably come to me in the course of the morning because it always seems to do so.

How many things have you invented in your mind? Naturally I have no idea how to make a micro chip but the concept is an invention, isn’t it? Isn’t that the whole premise for those gentlemen’s lawsuit against the Facebook nerd? I found that movie rather disturbing, “The Social Network”. Jesse Eisenberg played the character Mark Zuckerberg so well that I have a serious aversion to the poor guy in other movies. I made a colleague crazy because I couldn’t stand Fred McMurray after seeing him in “The Caine Mutiny” even though I had loved him as the father on My Three Sons for years. He played such a jerk so well that I couldn’t get over it.

An idea is not patent-able and as I have no idea how to make a microchip I put my idea out to someone who may make millions on it. After all, we all have some very entertaining dreams, don’t we? I can see it now “Come See Madonna’s Latest Fantasy” or perhaps “See Justin Beiber’s Latest Wet Dream” (that one would sell like hotcakes for sure!) It’s all about exploitation, right?

I invented the PVR when I was about 9 years old. When I was being forced to go shopping just as the Barbie commercials were coming on I would wish I could press a button on the TV so that when I got home I could press it again and “Beanie and Cecil” would come right back on. So it took nearly 50 years to create but the concept was at least that old. I’m sure there were others with the same notion but I’ve never heard anyone say so. Me, I’m not so shy about that kind of stuff.

And the other day when I wrote about Apps and hoping there would be one for work . . . well, now my company has an App! It won’t be long before I can App my work from my own toilet. Now isn’t that a great visual to end this blog? You are saying, yes, please stop. NOW.

painting by Anne Just (Danish artist)