... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.

A local newscast is using a reworded version of the holiday song “It’s A Most Wonderful Time Of The Year” to tout their weather team. (Keep in mind, we’ve just come thru a rough snow storm that shut down all sorts of transportation the day after Christmas.)



My reaction the first time I heard this was “Really—that’s what you’re going with?”


Then it hit me: extreme weather is like crack for forecasters. They love this stuff. The more horrendous it is, the better. (Remember Al Roker getting blown over while reporting out in a hurricane?)

During the recent storm that basically crippled most of the Northeastern part of the country, the newscasts (both national and local) had reporters out and about throughout the storm. We’ve all seen those spots: “This is So&So reporting to you live from [insert name of roadway/community]. I’ve got my yardstick here to measure how high the snow is….” The weather folks are as happy as pigs in you-know-what.

[I do have to admit to wanting to smack some of the people who get stranded for hours on end on a snow covered highway. Didn’t you check the forecast before you left? Wasn’t there some moment early on in the journey when you realized that turning around was your best option?]

It always cracks me up when they have the forecasters reporting in the midst of gale force winds and torrential downpours. I mean, we really don’t need these guys risking life and limb—we get it, it’s bad out there.

On Monday, a network reporter was broadcasting from runway 3 at Boston’s Logan airport… “This is the only runway they’ve been able to keep open during this storm…” Well then get the hell out of the middle of it dillweed. Sheesh.

The glass of fashion and the mould of form ~ Hamlet

Today was Ugly Christmas Sweater Day at my work…..   I don’t own one—and I wasn’t about to purchase one for the day.     I just enjoyed the “scenery.”       Here are some goodies I found online:

 the detail on these are intense....someone had way too much time on their hands.

oh... where to begin....

I have no idea what meds he's on.

But Colin "Be Still My Heart" Firth somehow manages to pull this off.

HO, HO, HO Everyone.

How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't! ~ The Tempest

Okay—so FINALLY Congress voted to repeal DADT. In spite of John McCain’s objections and stalling. And President Obama signed the bill today.


But, there are still hurdles ahead for gays in the military and Marriage Equality is still not a reality.

Why?!

I mean, it’s not like gay people are a new phenomenon. They’ve been around forever people. Such historic figures as Alexander the Great and Richard the Lionhearted were gay. So that proves sexuality does not determine your ability to be an effective fighter/leader.

Then there’s Hadrian, Emperor of Rome. [Actually, historians have found that all of the Emperors—with the exception of Claudius—had male lovers]. Socrates, the great philosopher.

Homosexual and transgender individuals were also common among other pre-conquest civilizations in Latin America, such as the Aztecs, Mayans, Quechuas, Moches, Zapotecs, and the Tupinambá of Brazil. And there are numerous accounts of gay relationships among Native Americans.

Then there’s more recent British monarchs: The relationships of socially prominent figures, such as King James I and the Duke of Buckingham had many rumors about them, including in anonymously authored street pamphlets: "The world is chang'd I know not how, For men Kiss Men, not Women now;...Of J. the First and Buckingham: He, true it is, his Wives Embraces fled, To slabber his lov'd Ganimede" (Mundus Foppensis, or The Fop Display'd, 1691).

Pictured above are my brother, the taller one on the right, and my brother-in-law. They have been together for close to 37 years—and yet they are not legally recognized as a married couple. Half of all marriages end in divorce now (Larry King is on divorce # 5), Liz Taylor may marry for the 9th time, numerous “family value” politicians (usually Republicans) are getting caught with mistresses….. But my brother, his partner and the half a dozen couples like them that I know are considered a threat to the “sanctity” of marriage. Seriously?


Let’s face it folks, it ain’t new—and it ain’t going away.

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows.

Well—tis the season….



To be stressed beyond belief. Only five days to get all gifts bought and wrapped, last minute decorations up, parties attended and Christmas dinner purchased and prepared. OY!


And if your family is anything like mine, the gifts will be unwrapped in about 10 minutes and dinner will be eaten in 20. So what do we kill ourselves for?


Here are some Holiday de-stressors:

And finally:

They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad. ~ Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.

I’ve been trying to examine my faults in my quiet moments.     Not an easy thing to do.

One thing I’ve discovered is I like to do things my way—and I tend to think that’s the best approach most of the time.     I think I can blame my mother for this one   (doesn’t everyone?)

My mother raised us by three sayings:

          Do Unto others as you would have them do unto you.

          If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

And

          Have the courage of your convictions.

Okay, I think I’ve done very well on the first one.   I try really hard to treat everyone equally.    I generally get along with most people and I’m usually pleasant to be around.

Score one for me.

As for number two—that one has been a lot harder for me.     Some people are just begging to be mocked…… I mean, have you seen People of WalMart.com????       It was our main amusement during the down moments at the theatre to riff on assorted celebs and crazy-ass patrons.     We were getting paid crap wages, we had to have something. 

And when you’re in the kind of work where you deal with the public on a regular basis—as I have done with all of my many jobs—it is necessary to have the time to go off some place and, basically, rip the douche bag you’ve just waited on a new one.

It’s cleansing.

It’s cathartic.

So maybe I get a pass on some of those?     Maybe?   (It is Christmas time.)

Now—the third one.

That’s the one that tended to get us in tough situations—and the one that came back to bite my parents in the ass the most.     Of course, my mother set the tone by having the courage of her convictions to not be the kind of cookie-cutter mother that was expected at the time she was having children.     And she has continued to do that by re-inventing herself about 4 times.     Most recently, she came clear across the country to move into a place sight unseen and live in close quarters with her adult daughter.

My eldest brother had the courage of his convictions when he refused to fight in the Vietnam War.    And he paid a dear price for it too.   (See this post and this one.)

Brother #2 has had the courage of his convictions to live as an out gay man his entire adult life—since pre-Stonewall days, I think.

I guess you could say I had the courage of my convictions when I moved in with my boyfriend without benefit of marriage in 1972.

So, you see there were precedents.    

As a child, all six of us sat around the dinner table every evening and had discussions as we ate.    From an early age we were encouraged to ask questions and formulate our own opinions on matters of importance.   This is what I was used to.

Now, imagine a kid like that—a girl—going to Catholic school in the 1960s.    I had a terrible time.    I could not understand why the nuns didn’t want to hear my opinion on things.     The whole “Children should be seen and not heard” thing was an alien concept to me.

And I’m still trying to come to grips with it.   Anyone got any good tips

O shame, where is thy blush? …To flaming youth let virtue be as wax ~ Hamlet Act 3, sc. 4

I guess now would be as good a time as any to write about having “the talk” with my kids….

As I was raising my son and daughter, I tried very hard to be open and honest with them. It wasn’t always easy to do—your first instinct is to go to the “Because I’m the parent and I said so” option. The hardest things for me were to admit when I had handled something with them in the wrong way and to apologize when I’d lose my temper.

But answering their questions about sex and the like wasn’t that difficult. I was, after all, a child of the 60s—we were the free love generation, right? And, in spite of my Catholic school background (where sex-ed consisted of Sister saying “If God is willing, a man and a woman will conceive a child.”), I was relatively comfortable discussing things with them. Their dad was very hurt when he realized they were always coming to me with their questions—until I told him some of the things they were asking…. “Oh, … um, …. Yeah—you can handle that.”

First thing I did was tell them the proper names of their body parts when they were about 3 and 4—cause, ya know, all the child rearing books say that’s what you should do.

Clearly, the authors of these books don’t have any on-the-job experience. I am in the store one day, browsing, when I realize that my adorable offspring are not standing obediently at my feet. I immediately whip around scanning the store for them. Quickly I spot my son (the 3-yr-old) peeking up the skirt of a mannequin. Before I can make a move, he proclaims at the top of his lungs “M, I can see the lady’s ‘gina.”

Yeah.

Now, this was in 1979. Things were still pretty uptight. I am all of 26 years old and all of these little old ladies are looking at him appalled. I have to admit that I was tempted to just take his hand and say “Let’s go find your mother little boy.”

Alright, now we jump ahead about 2 or 3 years and the questions start…..

My tactic whenever they asked “What is such-and-such?” was to respond with “Well, what do you think it is?” That way I could suss out exactly where their little brains were on a given topic. It worked very well. I can still remember my 6-yr-old daughter’s response to “What do you think gay means?”
“Guys who like other guys.”
Yeah, that about sums it up, I replied.    (I didn’t know about any of this stuff til I was 16 or so!)

When my son was about 12, he was on a car ride with his dad and he was telling him about a girl he liked in school.     My husband later relayed the conversation to me:

 Dad:   Is she cute, bud?
          Son:   Yeah! Only problem is G likes her too—and he’s my best friend.
 Dad:   Yeah—that’s a tough one….. But girls come and go; your friends are important.                          Don’t mess up a great friendship over a girl….
        Son:   Yeah…. But I think she likes me more—I’ve gotten more off of her than G.

(Dad almost crashes car, cause he knows what he meant when he said that about a girl….)

 Dad: (gulping, but trying to sound calm) What do you mean, bud?
       Son:   She gave G a granola bar, but she gave me a granola bar AND a pack of gum.

(Dad’s heart starts beating again.)

What fools these mortals be.....

Oh Philly—you so crazy….



Now, keep in mind that we are the city that threw snowballs at Santa  and some of this might make sense.


Maybe….


In hopes of helping smaller merchants during this economically strained holiday season, the city created a small shopping spot on city property near City Hall. It’s modeled after similar endeavors in Germany. Marketing geniuses that they are—and masters of the obvious—they dubbed it “Christmas Village.”


Well, apparently some city workers were offended by this—it’s not inclusive enough. So, the already cash-strapped city spent money to remove the offending word “Christmas” from the signs and planned to replace it with “Holiday.” I get it, I guess, let’s be ecumenical and open…..


Now, a mere 48 hours after the start of this kerfuffle, the word “Christmas” is being reinstated on the signs.


HUH????


All of this begs the question “Have we taken political correctness too far?”


I have mixed feelings. I was raised Catholic, but became very disillusioned during my teen years. I subsequently attended a Baptist church during my late 20s—mid 30s or so. But the need to earn more money to stay alive necessitated my working weekends. I haven’t attended any sort of church in over a decade.


And with all the many scandals coming to light, I’m completely turned off to organized religion. But, I try to go with a “live and let live” approach to how others choose to worship. As long as it doesn’t involve human sacrifice, or pedophilia, hey, whatev……


And I have a healthy curiosity about the many forms faith takes. I’ve always felt schools should teach students about all of the main belief systems on this planet. That being said, I don’t think Christmas is a religious thing anymore. It’s all about sales and who gets the best gifts and drinking and eating and stuff like that. So what difference does it make what they call this commercial little spot on Dilworth Plaza?






Why not put up a Channukah bush and a Kwanza shrub too.      Anybody wanna weigh in?

Let never day nor night unhallowed pass but still remember what the Lord hath done. ~King Henry the Sixth, Part II (King Henry at II, i)

Okay—so Tryptophan Coma Day has come and gone, and Shop til You Drop Day is past….   Now it’s time to really assess what I should be thankful for:

Well, I’m probably heavier than I was this time last year, but I’m not at the danger zone.     And I might actually be able to swing the monthly cost of a membership at Planet Fitness.

I still limp a bit on certain days, but I can take a walk around the parking lot during my lunch break now.     Baby steps….

I have a job—and the company is thriving to boot.      It’s not my dream gig, but I spend 40 hours a week with some really awesome people.

‘Taint fancy or brand spankin’ new.     But I have a car manufactured in this decade that will change gears (and automatically too, so my poor knee is very thankful).

I’m in a lovely apartment with lots of room—and a dishwasher!     Laundry facilities are only a half a flight down and I can see the outside world from my windows.

I’m getting to see a lot of great theatre for free as a reviewer for an area theatrical website.

I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but all of my friends still like me anyway.

My kids and grandson are all happy and healthy.    Matt was very enthusiastic about school this year—he’s liking the apartment he’s living in and the classes he’s taking.

My mom is in amazing shape for almost 88 years old.     We’ve had a couple of health scares, but she seems to be doing great these days.  

And we are getting along quite well too.     It’s an adjustment for each of us, since we’ve both lived alone for so many years, but we’re doing it with humor.

So, all in all, 2010 has been a year of big changes.     But it’s all been for the better and I;m in a pretty good place right now.

Of course, being Irish, I’m waiting for the shit to hit the fan…..

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't. ~ Hamlet

--or is there??

Okay, can anyone tell me why a 6 or 7 month old needs to be able to read? It’s not like they have to be able to tell road signs as they drive to work or something…..

And yet, there is a program that promises your toddler—even at the tender age of 6 months—will learn to read. Seriously?! I think this is ridiculous. I mean, c’mon….. Let kids be kids as long as possible for God’s sake.

I will admit, I took my kids for “swim lessons” at six months, but that was because we spent a great deal of time near a bay. I taught them not to touch hot things or sharp objects so they could avoid injury. I taught them how to go down the stairs backwards on their hands and knees so they wouldn’t fall and break tender little bones. It was my job as their mother to protect them.

It was also my job to let them be kids. I think we’ve lost sight of that. Everyone treats kids like trophies or something: “Look what So & So can do!” Kids are pressured to master things at younger and younger ages—in most cases so Mom and Dad can have bragging rights. It’s insane. I never see kids outside just playing anymore. They’re more overbooked than adults these days: play group, music lessons, sports practice, karate, art lessons….. When do they get time to just chill?

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest forever. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act

We’re having a little Halloween celebration at work today—I am answering calls dressed as a Renaissance queen [cause in my mind that’s how I see myself].

My brothers and I LOVED Halloween as kids. I think we looked forward to it as much as Christmas. We planned our costumes for weeks, nothing simple for us. Not only did the look have to be just right, but the character as well [is it any wonder that 2 of us are involved in theatre in some capacity].

And we didn’t go for the usual ghosts and goblins either…..

If we did opt for a more conventional costume choice, our ghosts were ultra ghoulish, our goblins were uniquely “gobliny,” our bums were uber-detailed in make-up and body language and our witches were more on the order of Macbeth’s Weird sisters.

Our get-ups went more towards the esoteric…..

I remember one year we were a trio of gals that were precursors of Mike Myers’ “Coffee Talk” character—complete with appropriate accents. We did a 10 minute act at each house we visited. [This was in the days parents could let their kids go all over their particular suburban enclave alone and not worry] People were giving us extra candy for our entertaining them.


Our crowning achievement was the year we went as two side chairs and a stereo. We got a box that was about 4 ft. long by 3 ft. high and about 18 inches deep and decorated it to look like a stereo cabinet [complete with knobs and speaker cloth]. Then we glued a small ashtray [it was the 60s people!] and lamp onto the top. Voila—stereo!


Next we got two old slipcovers of our grandmother’s and cut small eye holes in them. We put coat hangers along the tops of them to simulate the chair back. My younger brother and I wore these and our older brother manned the “stereo.” We would ring the doorbell, and then R and I would crouch down and put our arms out to create the chairs. B would hunker down inside the box. The people would open their front doors to this odd tableau. We would then go inside the house and recreate our little vignette—never saying a word. Neighbors went nuts trying to figure out who it was.


Needless to say, I carried on the tradition with my own too. My husband was into Halloween big time as well, but I was the one who invented the kid’s costumes. I spent many hours at my sewing machine…..

Enjoy your candy corn everyone.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

someone's yanking our chain....

"Passion, I see, is catching."

There seems to be a trend emerging over the last year or so that kinda scares me [well, one of many trends that scare me].     It’s the many TV shows and magazine articles that sort of glamorize teen moms.


I know MTV has a “reality” series called Teen Mom—an offshoot of another series called 16 & Pregnant.     I have only seen snippets of the program, so I can’t truly judge it.       I think their intent was to show how difficult it is to be a parent in your teens—I think….

But when young ladies featured on the show are given cover stories in OK! magazine and the like, I feel that message is getting lost.      This trend—as well as the publicity surrounding Jamie Spears and Bristol Palin—is sending the wrong message to kids in my opinion.    As are the plotlines of a number of films and television dramas.     

The number of teen pregnancies had declined over the past 20 years, but now it seems to be rising again.    [Remember that pact between a group teens in Massachusetts? ]     The ever strident rhetoric of the religious right –and their burgeoning political power (another thing that scares me)—is pushing abstinence and no sex education, but it’s like trying to close the barn door after the horse has escaped.


I speak from experience here—my daughter was 15 and a half when she got pregnant with my grandson. He is now a year older than his father was when he was born and he seems to get it—be responsible and don’t get a girl pregnant in the first place.

I really wrestled with this issue as my kids hit puberty.    I had always been very forthright and open about discussing sex with them as they were growing up [I was the one who handled the sex talks, their dad freaked out when he realized some of the stuff they were asking and choked—men are such wimps].    But I really didn’t feel it was right to give my daughter the pill at 14 or so.     I felt it was like saying it was okay to engage in an activity that we didn’t feel she was emotionally ready for.     I mean would you hand them alcohol at that age?     [And by the way, I felt the same about my son—he wasn’t ready either.      No double standard here.]


I vividly remember the day my grandson was born—5 days after my 38th birthday.     I was with my daughter throughout the entire labor and delivery; it was the longest day of my life.     Watching someone who was clearly not physically and emotionally ready for what your body goes through to give birth was excruciating.     I wanted to say, “Getup, I’ll do it.”      [Not that I did much better at 20, mind you…..]

It was a big adjustment for all of us when she decided to keep her son.     We had explored open adoption, but she looked at him after going through about 12 hours of labor and couldn’t give him up.      I knew we were all in for challenges ahead, and I was right.       I mean I was completely unprepared at 21 to be a parent, no way is a 16 year old.

 
They lived with us until my grandson was 9, and we handled alot of the expenses.     Fortunately, his paternal grandparents provide a lot of love, toys and clothes as well.      But his dad was out of the picture completely before the kid was 2.      Which is pretty much the norm, by the way.      Young girls are such fools when they think the guy is going to step up to the plate, as it were.      The ones that do are few and far between.     And they can forget about days at the mall shopping, fun parties, dances and the like.   They have a child to care for.


My daughter struggled to finish high school [many teen moms don’t by the way] and went on to college at night.      She held down full and part-time jobs from the time she was 18 in order to help as much as she could.       But on the way she raised a wonderful young man who is an amazing athelete with many accomplishments.     He is also very bright, articulate and caring.    

Now my girl is 35 years old and trying to pay a mortgage, her own student loans and a few new ones to cover her son’s college.       [And he's got loans as well--it's a bitch peopel.]     I ache to watch her work so hard to make ends meet—and I can’t help her.       She loves her son dearly and he was a real motivator for her.      She has been an awesome parent, but I’m sure she would be the first to burst this little glamour bubble that seems to have formed of late.

So girls—to stay healthy and not become a statistic, DON’T GET PREGNANT!!!       Obviously, waiting until you’re in a real, adult relationship to have sex would be the ideal, but I know your hormones are raging as much as the boys are.       So please avail yourselves of the many contraceptives you can walk into any drug store and purchase no questions asked.

WHAT A PIECE OF WORK IS MAN....

Friends, Romans, Countrymen—lend me your ears….

[WARNING: I’m getting on my political soapbox, so readers beware…..]


Friends, we have reached that dreaded time frame: the final days before an election. And we are all being bombarded with ads on TV, pamphlets in our doors, mail from the candidates and special calls from “famous Politician So-and-So” asking us to vote for Candidate A. [I got a voice mail from Bill Clinton in 2008!]


I have taken my vote very seriously in the almost 40 years I have had the honor and privilege. I read up on the candidates and the issues and really weigh my choices. Yes, I am registered Democrat, but I have never voted a straight ticket in my life. Many times I have picked a candidate from the Republican side of the ballot because I felt his experience was better, or his policies were more in tune with my way of thinking. Like I said, I DON’T TAKE THIS LIGHTLY.


But it has saddened me the way public apathy has permeated our society. Our national record on voter turnout is appalling. We should be ashamed of how we take this freedom for granted.


We should also be ashamed of how we squander this privilege. I remember doing work for my local Democratic party to get out the vote in 2004. It shocked me the number people that:


a) Stated they weren’t going to vote. ”What’s the point.”


b) supported Candidate A because he was pro issue X. “But what about issues Y and Z?” “I don’t know… but he’s for issue X.”


c) Blindly accept whatever some radio or TV pundit says about a candidate or an issue. Don’t they know how to think for themselves?



The escalating amount of spin and negative ads always appalls me too. “Don’t put Candidate A in office,” says Candidate B’s ad, “He voted to kill puppies!” What they fail to mention is that Candidate A was voting on a bill to fund education or something important like that, but Congressman C attached the killing puppies piece to the bill. We gotta stop that practice—each piece of legislation should only address one issue. Enough of piling all of the pork onto it, already.    I see this stuff on TV and my head spins.



I also think elected officials should put in a full work year like the rest of us poor slobs.    As it stands now, they spend most of their time trying to stay in office—or get elected to another office.    They only actually do the work we are paying them to do for about 6 months out of the year!     Ridiculous—no wonder nothing ever gets done in Washington.      Election season should only be about 8 weeks—if you can’t figure out who you think would do the best job in that time, then there is something wrong with you.



And the reality is that whoever has the most money to spend generally winds up winning. 

We should put an end to that NOW!!!!!      My idea is to give every candidate an equal amount of airtime on radio or TV, and an equal amount of ad space in local papers.       Everyone gets an 2 hours to use in whatever increments they wish.   

For free.
During that limited period of time I mentioned earlier.

That’s it. No more. That’s all she wrote when the pencil broke…..






Okay….
                  Stepping down….
                                              From my soapbox….
                                                                               NOW.

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor this dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. ~

Okay, I know I’ve been off the bloggy radar of late—this play is taking up all my time. We open tomorrow night…. [oh crap!—I have to do this in front of people.]


Anywho, things have been bubbling along. But there is a trend that is really boggling my mind—and amusing me at the same time.

There are 3 recent events that started this train of thought:

◊ We purchased a floor fan for my mothers bedroom.

◊ Our landlords replaced the A/C unit in my bedroom because it only worked on one setting and it was making a popping noise.

◊ I purchased a newer car—a 2001 Honda Civic.

E, you ask, “What do these three things have to do with each other [other than your contribution to ending the recession]? “

Well, I’ll tell you—the fan and the air conditioner both came with remote controls and the car has automatic door locks and windows.

AMERICA—this is why we are so out of shape!!! Good god people, are we no longer capable of rolling a car window up and down on our own? Can we not walk across the room to:

a) Change channels

b) Turn the frickin TV on or off

c) Turn a fan or air conditioner off



Just stew on that for a bit—I’ll be back later….. I’m gonna go channel surf.

There thou mightst behold the great image of authority—a dog's obeyed in office.~ King Lear

Okay—this isn’t the first time this has struck me—I’ve just decided to blog about it….       I was inspired by something I witnessed as I was waiting at a stop light this morning.      A weird ritual I have seen numerous times at assorted hours of the day as I drive about the burbs.

I’ve had a dog in the past and I loved her dearly, she was a member of our family. But, fortunately, our dog owning era ended before the “scooper laws” came into effect.      And it’s a good thing too—cause I think it’s a stupid law.

I mean it’s shit people—it’s biodegradable.     It doesn’t make sense.     As long as the stuff isn’t on the sidewalk, let nature take its course I say.      Why would you want to stick it in plastic bags and then throw it in the trash where it will fester and smell to high heaven?     

  Stupid.

This morning I watched this very well-dressed young corporate type conducting what I assumed was a business call as his dog crapped on the lawn of a law office nearby.      [I know, some might think that’s poetic justice and for that reason he shouldn’t have had to pick it up….]       There he is, looking all yuppie, scooping do-do.       I cracked up when I saw that his leash had a receptacle on the end of it that held plastic poop bags.

Yeah—a yuppie.

And we are supposedly the superior species on this planet.      Yet, we’re the ones picking up the poo.      Weird.

I think that’s why life forms from other planets haven’t contacted us.     They observed us for awhile and assumed the dogs were the ones in charge.

… And they might think this is real:   

Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

L

ots swirling around in my mind of late…. Not the least of which are my lines for the show I’m in.

It  has been almost 3 years since my last acting gig, and I am seriously out of practice in the memorization department.     If you don’t use a skill regularly, it gets rusty—and I am proving that right now.      So I am really struggling to get the dialogue into my memory bank—I even wondered if banging the script repeatedly against my forehead would work.     It didn’t.

 I’m also worried about why the “check engine” light came on today in the car I’ve owned for less that 2 weeks—please God don’t let me start with a whole new set of car issues.     I couldn’t take it.    Guess who’ll be calling the dealer tomorrow.

Then there’s the new position I applied for at work—and didn’t get.     It would have been totally up my alley, so I’m really disappointed.      I love the group of folks I work with, but I’m over the whole phone thing.     I need new challenges.      Well, I’ll keep looking for other opportunities... And hope my age isn’t going against me.

#   #   #

But the big thing my mind is wrestling with is how 9 years after the attacks of Sept. 11^th we haven’t seemed to learn much of anything.      We have people attacking Muslims in parts of this country.    [How can you call yourself a Christian and want to burn a Holy Book.    And how can you have the gall to say you prayed to God and he told you to go ahead and do it??!!??]   We have people running immigrants out of their towns.      [My grandfather was an immigrant—should I not be here?]     

We still have people with the same ignorant attitudes that are causing others we share this planet with to hate us.     And I can’t really blame them.

I know that’s not going to be a popular viewpoint, but I’m just being honest here.     Why are we still so arrogant—and ignorant?     Where do we get off thinking our way is the only way to do things?     There are cultures in this world that have been around WAY longer than we have.  

For many years—since my days of being a student in Catholic school actually—I have said we should be teaching children all over the world about all religions and cultures.      The more you know about something, the less you fear it.  

I have tried in my own way during my adult years to learn about other religions and cultures.      And the differences aren’t what strike me—it’s the fundamental similarities.     We are all worshipping a deity of some sort—we just choose to call him different names.

So, get over yourselves America—we are not the “be all and end all” of how things should be done.   Open yourselves up to the wonder of how other people live—and worship.