The Sunrise Suite

My dear friend Ingrid who died of cancer in April of 2009 was amazing in so many ways. She had a knack for finding hidden gems to explore during extended weekend adventures. For years she tried to turn me on to Cedar Key, a little island in the Gulf of Mexico due west of Gainesville, Florida. I never made it there until after she died.

"There's only one place to stay in Cedar Key," Ingrid used to tell me as I joked that she was being paid by their Visitor's Bureau. And then she proceeded to pimp out the Cedar Key Bed and Breakfast as the sweetest, most charming place in Florida.

When I met Bill and Alice--the owners of Cedar Key Bed and Breakfast--in the summer of 2009, I told them that Ingrid had sent me. They were sad to hear the news about her death. They knew the world was at a loss without her.

I felt Ingrid's persuasive words about the place follow me during our stay. The Sunrise Suite, her favorite accommodation at the B & B and our choice as well, had long windows that opened up to the Gulf, welcoming the water and the sky into the sun porch and the living room. You can't imagine the view from the bedroom.

I enjoyed talking with Bill and Alice about their lives during that trip with Husband and D-Man, and when I returned in the Fall with a group of women for a girls' weekend, it was easy to feel like we were picking up where we left off.  There was a lot of hope and light in those brief conversations. 

Bill had discovered a cancerous tumor on his leg earlier in the year, but with some experimental treatments in Mexico, he was cured and so grateful for the bill of good health. We talked about it during both of my visits.

Yesterday I called to make a reservation for the Sunrise Suite for a long weekend in March. When a young girl answered the phone, I asked if Bill and Alice were still running the place.

"Just Miss Alice," the girl said. "Bill died of cancer in December."

The sound of her words kept churning and amplifying like a singing bowl. I was thinking about how Alice was holding up, about whether Bill suffered, about why he couldn't be helped.

No matter how many times I'm jolted with the news of death, I seem to quickly lose touch with the fact that life is too short to get caught up in the minutia of meaningless details. I want to hold on to that. I want to be wiser and stop letting people take my power who are not worthy of it. I want to laugh more, take myself less seriously, and never miss an opportunity to be the person I am.  And I want that for all of us.

We're all so much like Ingrid, we just don't know it. She was 100% authentic, 100% of the time.

Today I imagine her kicking back in the Sunrise Suite with Bill, looking out at the Gulf, sipping a margarita and sending love to those who are still here in the world.

The Atheist

So right off the bat, I'll tell you this isn't a post about religion, or lack of religion. It's about inadvertently taking what you hate the most in others' behavior and doing the same thing to counteract it.

Sometimes people get pretty offended about pushy religious fanatics who preach of fire and brimstone to those who do not share the same beliefs. It's easy to see why. Many of those people ignore the cardinal rule in almost every religion--do not judge. This hypocrisy can build up to shape some pretty angry reactions.

Someone I know as a lose acquaintance through mutual environmental interests is an atheist. He's a smart guy, and in person, he's very likable. But each day on Facebook, and multiple times each day, he shares post after post intimating how stupid people are to believe there is anything beyond the physical world of science we can see and touch and measure. His belief is just that, his. 

It's up to each one of us to decide not to judge others for what they believe, but it's quite interesting to see him proselytizing about atheism in the same way he must hate religious fanatics proselytizing about the right way to live.

I've see the same situation play out with some feminists who hate the strong, overbearing and domineering attitude of some men, yet use the same tactics to get their points across in the world. It's amusing. But people start to turn them off the same way...and there's a reason for it.

Bags to Nukes: Recent Environmental Let Downs

It's been tough to take the news that the reusable grocery bags from Winn Dixie and Publix (among others) contain amounts of lead that aren't permissible in toys or in paint. What the hell is that all about anyway? Why is it--who is it--which regulatory authority allowed this to happen? You try to quit this mess with plastic bags by purchasing reusable items and find out they're manufactured with stuff that not only isn't green but is hardly healthy.

I'm still getting over the fact that this has happened. I realize that none of us are going to die because a banana or two was transported in one of these bags, but really? Lead in grocery bags?

Remember the excitement about biofuels?  I'm not saying they're all bad, but we've seen what corn based ethanol can do to the price of food staples around the globe. It's not good. And the actual amount of energy they produce is negligible. I wish it was different.

I frankly can't believe nuclear power has come back into the picture again as a source of "clean" energy. It's so totally clean to produce (and safe, of course) but then what happens to the radioactive waste?  Oh that's right.  We'll just keep burying it in New Mexico. That's a brilliant idea. I'm sure our scientific community is 100% sure we'll never have any seismic activity in the millions of years it will take the stuff to become inactive.

Let's go back to the safety issue for just one moment. We're totally trusting the industry and regulatory authorities who tell us that many back up processes are in place to prevent a meltdown. It just couldn't happen with today's technology, right?  I remember hearing the same thing about the oil rigs in the gulf. With all of the required inspections and safety precautions, procedures, etc., there was no way we could have a disaster harming the environment. It was completely clean and safe. Hmmm...how did that work out for us?

We're an innovative bunch here in America. The economy is trying to pick up. Many smart people are unemployed. Seems like the time is ripe for new, better ideas--the kind that actually work, the kind that are environmentally reasonable, healthy for people and the earth and that improve quality of life. I'm tired of hearing endless infomercials for half-ass solutions we're trying to bill as safe and good. Let's change that.

Waiting for Superman: Failed Public Education in America

It's pretty easy to be a teacher. To be a good teacher, it's really, really hard.

The responsibility of educating the next generation is difficult enough, period. On top of that, teachers have the realities of unacceptable behavior in the classroom, home situations that are less than encouraging of a learning focus, and state testing requirements that have proven to be meaningless roadblocks to the kind of teaching that changes lives for the better.

It's no secret that our education system in America is failing our students. And it's no secret that the problem is extraordinarily complex.

In my community, there are some amazing teachers that are doing their best to succeed (and are succeeding), despite all the odds of the system in which they're forced to operate.

I can also say from experience, that there are some very lousy teachers who are holding onto their years at school doing absolutely nothing to help lives of our kids because they're tenured. They're just sucking up a paycheck and my son's life while they're waiting for retirement. This shouldn't be allowed to happen.

I would highly recommend a trip to the movies this week to see Waiting for Superman, a documentary about the public education system in America.  It was fair in its attack of both failed liberal and conservative attempts to fix education in America. It was hopeful in its coverage of some systems that are working, created by forward-thinking education reformers. And it was bold in its questioning of why the heck we're sitting around playing with a lottery system for students who can fill the very few spaces in decent charter schools.

The film challenges the long-standing belief of many that bad neighborhoods are why "drop out factories" (low-achieving schools) are prevalent and suggests that research points the other way around:  over time, these failing schools have contributed largely to the decline of the neighborhoods around them.

I know it's controversial, but the National Teachers' Union was challenged severely in the film as being a body that treats all teachers as one instead of distinguishing between the high-performing teachers and those who continually fail our students.

I loved the film. I did have two criticisms: one fair and one maybe not so much. The 5 students chronicled as part of the film all had strong parent-advocates. So the notion that not all parents are strong participants in their child's education didn't enter in the picture at all. That wasn't fair. When a teacher is struggling because parents at home could care less, that obviously plays a huge factor. It has to be a partnership. And many parents don't fulfill their part of the bargain.

The other criticism--and yes, there's only so much you can do in 2 hours--is that the issue was oversimplified. Severe lack of funding, the proliferation of non-English speaking students in schools (which isn't a judgment, it's a fact), and societal changes are huge strains on the education system. To fully understand what's going on, you have to take those things into account.

It's so complicated, but if we want to remain the America we think we are, we better do something about public education, and fast. Go see Waiting for Superman.

How did we get so polarized?

Lately there's been a lot of angst in the air about an Amendment that Floridians will be voting on in November. Politics in general have been angrier than ever.  The divisiveness is palpable every moment. I've caught myself feeling my own anger-- not against those who take the opposite side, but against those who spread misleading information and use it to polarize relationships. Okay, honestly, sometimes it is against those who take the opposite side, just because I feel so passionate about my side.

I do remind myself that what's great about America is that we can have political differences, exchange conversation representing different viewpoints, and in the end, we can still co-exist without retribution for our convictions. We can dwell more on what we have in common while using dialogue about various perspectives to make our society better. 

But do we really? Or do we call the opposition "ignorant" and distant ourselves from them socially and otherwise?

I'll admit having done this. And I couldn't say I would never do it again. But it's usually when that person is not just vocal about his/her politics, but obnoxious and offensive. 

I'm not sure anyone taught us how to disagree respectfully, and that it's okay not to feel the same about everything as your neighbor. What's important is to be a neighbor.

Maybe so many of us turn angry when our sacred beliefs are challenged in the political process and we feel helpless to change them. I think the anger comes from a feeling of injustice, or more simply, not being heard. 

Either way, we don't all agree. We never will. And until we can be civil to each other, nothing, absolutely nothing will change.

Twitter, The Majestic Plastic Bag & Birds and Bunnies Environmentalism

One of my favorite aspects of Twitter is its use as a quick source of news, updates and information about the issues that are important to me. If you follow organizations and news sources that understand how to use Twitter, you get a constant stream of links to breaking stories, articles and media that are useful and thought-provoking. I use it a lot at work to stay on top of nonprofit trends and resources.

Anyway, Audubon of California just tweeted a link to this video called "The Majestic Plastic Bag: A Mockumentary." It follows the personified life of a plastic bag and it's migration. We follow it floating about in the breeze through parking lots and parks, down sewage drains, down a river and into the ocean. You can see the path of destruction as it makes its way to the Pacific Garbage Patch, this massive collection of crap--plastic, sludge, waste, etc.-- that's come together through ocean currents off the west coast of the US.

When I first heard about this a few years ago, I thought it was another Snopes story. But apparently, it's the size of Texas (perhaps even larger) and is estimated to contain millions of tons of trash.

We have plenty of reusable grocery bags, and most of the time these days, I actually remember to bring them with me to the store. But even those bags have a limited life and are made of materials that require processing and consume resources. The bottom line is that I need to consume less altogether.

I had this great environmental politics professor when I was at the University of Florida. He referred to "Birds and Bunnies Environmentalism" when he talked about this very American view that we can still consume the same amount of stuff and it will all be okay because of new scientific advances, technology and recycling. We all tend to forget (myself included) the "reduce" and the "reuse" parts.  It involves a culture change. And that takes time. I just wonder how much time we really have before we've screwed things up so much they can't be repaired.

Interesting...this cycle of consumption beyond our means and beyond what earth can support is also causing the breakdown of our economy.

If you have 3 minutes, the "Mockumentary" is a cleverly written and filmed video (very funny too)....although for some reason, it's stretching waaay across my blog. 

Crossing the Line

I know, I know, it's a big no-no to get political on your blog, unless it's a political blog.  And religion, I shouldn't go there either.  So I'm going to do both in one post.

I was alarmed at my level of upset today when, on the way to work, I passed a man holding a sign advocating for a local political candidate (himself?) reading "Christian Leadership."

See, I have nothing against Christians. Muslims. Buddhists. Jews. In fact, I believe that all of the great religions in the world reach the same basic truths but get there in different ways. Different customs. Different pictures of God. But I happen to see it as the same God. 

I've had enough with division over this in America. It's time for this to end, to move on.

There are still people who still don't understand that we live in a country where there's a separation between church and state. Some of these people are already in office. Some are running for election.  It's usually the same people who don't recognize that "morality" and "ethical" behavior cross religions lines--they aren't any more or less inherent in Christianity than in any other religion. Those who use religion to back up violence or to judge others aren't truly living the messages expressed in their religion. They're practicing an altered version that leads to an unraveling of peace and truth and an uprising in anger and hatred.

By the message on the sign alone, its owner communicated two things to me:

1. I disrespect one of our country's founding premises--that old separation between church and state thing again.
2. I disrespect voters who are not Christian.

Religion doesn't have a place in American politics. Morality, ethics--yes. (I'd love to actually see them there.)

My freedom to choose, practice and express my religion is just that--mine.  It's not my business to judge you or prevent you from believing what you hold dear.  We're all prevented from that when our federal, state or county representatives are vocal advocates for one religion above another, in the midst of their public service or while advocating for votes. 

If You Don't Pay Your Taxes...

Frankly, I'm not really sympathetic to those who don't pay their taxes. Whether or not you agree with how much you owe the IRS, it's the law.

I've known a couple of folks who have actually spent time in the courtroom with the IRS about their philosphical differences with taxation and their feelings that required taxes are not constitutional. However, these very people believe that our country should support human service needs and they have personally been the recipient of state-supported programs including the public schools and roads we all depend on to some extent.

Amusing. And kind of sickening to me.

The latest I heard regarding non-taxpaying complainers concerns a number of business owners in Louisiana who operated on a "cash only" basis pre-Gulf Oil Disaster.

I'm probably more disgusted than even most about BP's lack of responsibility in this tragic environmental disaster, but come on, people, if you don't pay your taxes and therefore have no proof of income, how can you expect to be reimbursed for your troubles?

You just can't have it both ways.

Faces vs. Numbers: A Media Call

Regardless of my views or your views about war, there are thousands and thousands of U.S. men and women who make daily sacrifices far from home in places and conditions we cannot imagine.

Over 5,500 U.S. men and women have died in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. More than 2,280 of them were 22 years of age and under.

Numbers--even these thousands--are hard to digest, hard to internalize in terms of what a life means.

I wish all major television stations would do something to help us remember and honor each life that has been lost. Can you imagine how fitting and powerful it would be to have a unified broadcast across networks at the same time and day each week? We would see photographs of those who gave their lives that week, with their names, their hometowns, their ages. A face and a biography are more fitting than a set of numbers which we simply cannot process with any degree of understanding.

For every man's face you see, you have a better grasp that this man was someone's son, grandson, brother. He may be someone's father, wife. And if he wasn't, he would have been.

Here is Army Spc. Blair Thompson, who died on June 25, 2010 of wounds sustained when insurgents attacked his unit using rocket-propelled grenades and small-arms fire.

He was only 19 years old. (Source: Military Times)

It's my wish that the media will start doing a better job of helping us hold him and other very brave people close to our hearts and to give them a moment--if only a moment--of our time and our prayers. Isn't that the least we can do? Otherwise, it's too easy to put out of sight and mind, save Memorial Day, July Fourth and other holidays.

P.S. Just received a comment from Blair's uncle and made a correction to the post. Thank you for your comment. Seeing this brave young man's photo, I think of him and of his family. From our family to yours, we remember..

The Crime of Inaction

Driving out to Anna Maria Island on Memorial Day, I saw every pump occupied at the BP station. I hated them for being blind. At the same time I wondered if the station was the pride of a small business owner who doesn’t have any more to do with the oil crisis than I do for purchasing gas. And even with a concerted conscience focused on punishing BP, I had stopped at one of their stations to fill my car up last week and realized it half after I had been standing at the pump for over 4 minutes.
The beach was beautiful. During a fast paced walk I enjoyed seeing the families sitting in the sand, a toddler sloppily carrying a full bucket of water to the tiny castle he was building, the brilliant layers of blue-green meeting the cloudless sky…

The knowledge of the big “it” out there—the spill that keeps coming out beyond what any of us can comprehend every minute, hour and day--was a weight for everyone on the shore.  Instead of carrying that heaviness with me, I said a prayer with every step in the surf. I had to feel that somehow my calling of all the Goodness that is seen and unseen would be heard.

Besides that imminent concern and small answer, this time of year I’m especially alert to the beach nesting birds. They depend on a clean beach, undisturbed dunes and the grace of God to hatch and raise their young. Every year, the number of successful least terns, black skimmer and snowy plovers diminishes. More harm that one can possibly imagine is done by the trash on the beach attracting predators, the quick footed tourists and locals who can’t be bothered to look where they step, and unknowing children who chase the energy strained adults mustering everything to feed their chicks.

I loved watching a skimmer dip in the shallow waves, following them in a line down the beach with a grace and precision hard to believe. Another one came. And another. On my walk back, I watched a young man with his girlfriend coming in the opposite direction. I misjudged him as one who couldn’t care less about a bird, but then I saw him turn. Stop. Watch the skimmer with a look of fascination. It made me smile and feel hopeful.

Approaching the entrance to the beach I used, it was impossible not to see a large area where a group had left over 30 bottles, cans, wrappers and used bottle of sunscreen. I felt sick. In the midst of the largest environmental disaster to ever face our country, here was a deliberate act of laziness and disregard for everything. Everything!

Even on Memorial Day? Our veterans sure as hell didn’t make their sacrifices so that Americans could treat our own country like a pig sty. Sick and angry, I collected as many pieces of trash as I could and went to the garbage bin. A couple settling down to sit in their chairs remarked about how angry it made them, yet when I returned with a bag from my car, they hadn’t lifted a finger.

I collected everything, putting the sandy refuse in a Whole Foods bag made from recycled bottles. I was pissed. I know from years of experience that some people will always litter. They’ll always have shameful behavior without being ashamed.

But what I wasn’t prepared for were countless groups of couples and families on the beach who would stay right where they were, watching. Just watching. It didn't occur to them to clean it up before, and seeing someone picking up the mess, it still didn't occur to them.

As they hear news of the oil spill at night, do they shake their heads with sadness, change the channel, or pray for the sportscast to come?

Do you know people who roll over on their beach blankets and look the other way. What is in their conscience? What's the difference between their inaction and the inaction of those who left the trash to begin with? I'm not sure there is a difference.

Amazing People & Programs Make This World Go Round

When you consider special and underserved people and places needing someone to speak for them, nonprofit organizations are always there to make voices heard. Thank you for sharing so many organizations and missions with me through your comments. In my daily work, I get to learn about and work with local nonprofits all over my area, but I seldom get to learn about your personal charitable passions.

The random number generator spit out 2 for me, which means that Poindexter's nonprofit, Camp for All, will get a $20 donation from Gropius. The impressive program of this camp for special needs children and adults is one she's witnessed first-hand.

Camp For All works in partnership with other nonprofits to provide self-esteem, self-awareness and independence to special needs kids and adults through participation in recreational, therapeutic and educational programs. The camp provides a fully-accessible environment with no barriers, tailored to meet the needs of diverse campers.

I don't always remember how fortunate I am to be free from disease and to have full use of my body. I guarantee I wouldn't forget to be grateful if someone in my household had physical limitations. It's odd that so many of us grow up without a single noticeable impact from genetics or accidents-- with so many things left to chance in our development and our environment, it wouldn't seem we could all be so lucky.

When I think of those who do have special needs, I have a great respect for what they do and accomplish in spite of the world not being quite as easy to navigate. It's wonderful to know a camp like this exists to make kids and adults feel uninhibited and as part of a caring, empowered group!  Thanks for passing it along, Poindexter.

Big Decisions

Like you, I've made some big decisions in my life.  Most of the big decisions are more intangible--they've been decisions more about the kind of person I'd like to be, the spiritual principals I choose to guide me. 

But of course there are those decisions that change the direction of our lives by virtue of a single sentence. These are the pronouncements that, in a series of words, can change everything:  a marriage vow, accepting a new job, starting over by moving to a new city or state, making a stand for justice that shapes all of your activities and friends, challenging someone you're close to, the choice to have (or not to have) children, etc.

I have a heavy decision churning in the old Gropius psyche today. I'm still collecting all the facts and doing the right scans needed to make the most informed decision I can. But it's one of those decisions that's hardly cut and dry.  One choice means way more potential opportunity for me but comes with risk.

Being "safe" isn't always the best way to lead your life. But risk comes with its own set of realities--the possibility that some of what you currently have and hold dear will be lost.

So I'm doing the good 'ole pro and con list, waiting until all of the information is available, taking my time without letting the hourglass decide for me, and doing my best to let intuition guide me. I'm still relying on the Universe to provide some pointers. I just need to pay enough attention to hear her.

What are the big decisions you've made in your life? What do you wish you knew when you made them?

The Big Questions of Perspective

It's true that the ultimate goal on my life list is to deliver any kindness and assistance to the people and creatures that come across my path. I really want to make a difference. I don't always succeed in that, but that's the idea.

I get tired. I think too often of myself when I don't mean to. And I don't always keep what counts in perspective.

At the end of every day, these are the Big Questions that float through my mind obsessively as I try to coast into sleep...

• Did I do the most I could do today?
• Did I hurt anyone unintentionally or out of frustration?
• What do I wish I could do more of?
• What scared me or bothered me and why did it?  What part of ego was this associated with?  How can I kill it?

We see ourselves differently than others see us.  I delight in what I can discern of myself and hate it that there are answers difficult to find when I'm not looking at myself from the outside.

I'm lucky to have some good friends in my life who help me out with the Big Questions and pave the road to seeing myself as I really am. I'll take the good news and the bad, all in hopes of becoming something greater.

Happy Easter!

Suspended

My general "no violence" mantra may have its exceptions.

Yesterday I got the call that every parent dreads. "D-Man has been suspended from school for two days and cannot ride the bus all next week." All I heard was "fight" and immediately was disappointed that all of my "working it out with words" fell to the way side.

Big Bad Bully rides D-Man's bus and makes it his regular business to harass kids in the halls and on the ride into school. Slapping them on the back of the head, ramming into them, pulling on backpacks, yelling "Your mother is a whore,"  "You're a fag"--all of the disgusting comments that help a nasty kid precede his own reputation--were daily naturals for this kid. 

The bottom line was: D-Man had enough on Friday, March 19 at 8:27 a.m.. And he was first physically assaulted by Big Bad Bully. 

No one disputes that Triple B turned around and hit D-Man--much smaller than him and smaller than most of the boys his age-- in the neck. It evidently knocked the wind right out of him, and took him a moment to recover. The next thing D-man remembers, he was on top of Triple B, "wailing" on him.  After it was all over, the two sat on the bus, waiting for each kid to walk down the aisle and down the steps. We heard from the neighbor that hardly anyone failed to congratulate D-Man for giving Triple B what was coming to him.

Triple B's parents rushed to the school, took their poor wounded bully son out for the day and went on about how terrible "this other kid" was. Who is a foot shorter. Who has been tormented by their son for months. And who school administration has failed to protect from bullies like their son.

Today will be a day of chores for D-Man. He's dressed in a baseball cap and Marti Gras beads, no doubt a celebration of sorts of the newly-found bad ass in him. I asked him if he felt he made the right decision. "Yes," he said without so much of a 2-second consideration.

D-Man makes friends easily, he's not violent in nature and he often sticks up for those who have more difficulty on the social side of things. At the same time, the "cool" factor has never really been a problem for him.

What do I do as a parent? Can I blame him? The last thing I want to do is ever, ever encourage this. But perhaps this single action is enough to let everyone at school know that D-Man may be smaller but not weaker. In this case, the line that was crossed and paid for with an embarrassing social ticket for Big Bad Bully will prevent future acts of verbal and physical violence coming from him.

I don't want D-Man to think this is a way to solve anything. Yet, a deep inner instinct I cannot help but suppress tells me that he did solve something. He's coming out on the winning end of the humiliation that many kids endure--humiliation that starts young and, unfortunately, shapes them forever with a terrible feeling of inadequacy. He deserves not to feel threatened at school and he stood up for himself, with consequences, but in a way that frees him.

The Boys' Club

It's Friday night and I just awoke from a 3 hour nap. Exhausted from a stressful week, I fell asleep after a couple of slices of cold pizza and two articles in this month's Audubon magazine. What's going on at 11:12 p.m.? 

Apparently, Husband is treating D-Man to "Alien Vs. Predator." I'm so, so not amused. The second I walk in the den, I hear "Okay, it's time for bed, D-Man." 

Maybe I'm just being ultra-sensitive here, but I feel like this completely enforces the "Gropius as Dark Overlord" theme--one for which I do not care.

It seems that as D-Man has gotten older, all of "those things" that I knew I would never allow my kid to do-- like watch violent films, play video games for more than 30 minutes a day, and spend more than half of every weekend at someone else's house--all happen on a regular basis.

Honestly, I think a huge part of it is two very different views of parenting. And I'm not saying Husband is wrong. But I don't like my role as regulator, breaker up of the Boys' Club activities. Husband doesn't realize it, but always, it makes me the bad one. Something that's extra uncool since I'm the step parent.


I'm not so silly to think that today's 13 year old isn't experiencing a whole different level of media, conversation and exposure to unfavorable crap than I did at that age, but I would like to think that as a parent, I can control the level of exposure.  Parenting is hard. Being part of a united parental duo is hard. And increasingly, I'm finding that my expectations are countered by the fun of the Boys' Club pair, my 35 year old Husband-Kid and my 13 year old stepson.  Thankfully, only one of them may read this posting, and he'll get over it.

By the way, I've never seen Alien vs. Predator until the last little bit tonight. It's completely inappropriate for a young audience, but for adults, it's pretty ridiculous and could be funny if you have a few drinks. I'll put that on my to-do list. Way at the bottom.

P.S. Husband is a super good dad. I don't mean to intimate that he isn't. We just--diverge--on a few things.

Watchin' Out for Yourself: Women & Safety

So I was trying to be playful with my recent Publix Predator post, spreading the annoyance about a senior widowed grocery store bagger who was over eager for human affection from customers. Turns out, many of you didn't think it was so funny. It's very sad, but very true--we really have to be careful to avoid something terrible happening to us or to someone we love. Husband is always on my case about being more alert, and I should be more vigilent for sure.

Thought I'd post a list of links I found about various safety topics that you can use for yourself or share with your wife, daughters, sons and others in your life. They're not just for women.

1. How to protect yourself in a parking garage, from the Florida's State Attorney General's office. Some of these tips are unrealistic, like always walking with someone, but most are great reminders. You'll find other tip sheets for self-protection on this page as well.
2. Warning signs of domestic violence. This is great direction from Safe Place and Rape Crisis Center's website. They're located right here in Sarasota and provide an incredible service for so many women in crisis.
3. Tips and advice for avoiding dangerous situations outside of your home, an excellent compilation from safetyforwomen.com.
4. Identity theft face off. This is a cool quiz I found on the Federal Trade Commmission's website that tests your knowledge of identity theft. We've had presentations about this at work, and it's frightening to think of how someone can so easily ruin your credit, charge up all sorts of debt, and you can end up having to pay for it all. If you don't want to play the game, look at this FTC tip sheet for preventing identity theft.

If you have a good source of information about crime prevention as well, or a tip of your own, I hope you'll post a comment and share it!

Sweet Forgiveness

Compassionate people are blessings. And the receiver of yesterday's 3 mistake-laden e-mails was nothing but a Goddess of Forgiveness today. After calling her begging for mercy, she graciously played it as "not a big deal" and reassured me with something to the effect of "I've done this sort of thing before." 

Sometimes I get so caught up with the pooper people in life that I forget about the good folks, people who are cool enough not to relish in your faults.

The lesson for me is less of "read before sending" since I'm usually fairly articulate and decent at self-editing, but more of "who am I going to give a break today?" 

It's true, you never know what someone is dealing with when you're on the receiving end of a weird e-mail, or when you meet someone for the first time and they mix up a fact or two.  This is a good moment for me to remember this. Although I'm generally pretty forgiving, sometimes--even without meaning to--I can be quick to judge competency.

Note to Gropius: Make a point to return the favor, not just with someone, but with everyone.

BTW: I didn't do anything mean. It was a press release with a missed date, then phone number!

Why I Married A Meat Eater

Very clever, Pines Lake Redhead. Not only did you name all 4 movies with a little help of your commenting predecessors, but you came up with a challenging title for this post. And I have two answers, a serious one and a not so serious one, both of which are true.

Before I continue, the movies were:

1. The Princess Bride. Of course my fave of all time.
2. The Goonies. A classic--love it that D-Man enjoys it just as much as I did.
3. Stand by Me. This story is at once funny, sad, thoughtful...haven't seen it in years. Must rent.
4. Say Anything.  Maybe not a classic for everyone, but who could resist Lloyd Dobbler?

So here we go: Why I Married A Meat Eater.

Serious:

As a vegetarian of 17 years, I’ve heard it all. Two of the most frequent lines are:

• “Why do you eat plants, they’re alive too?” (That is HILARIOUS! If I only had a freaking dime for every time I hear that.)
• “Hmmmm. Do you wear leather?” (Nope. Sorry you didn’t “get” me on that one.)

Contrary to the conclusion that many people seem to draw on their own from the moment they hear “vegetarian,” I don’t make any judgments on people for choosing to eat meat. I don’t lecture people about why it’s a choice for me. And I don’t even discuss it unless someone asks me “why.” Then I have a quick and simple answer to share, knowing if people want more, they’ll ask.

In short, I’ve learned that much more explanation—especially unsolicited—yields the unintended result of making people believe that vegetarians are “moral high horse” elitists.

Now of course I didn’t set out purposely to marry a meat eater; you can’t help you love. And for a world riddled with craziness, I could do a lot worse with character traits.

When I met Husb over 10 years ago, he was working as a chef and prided himself on the art of preparing a beautiful meal. He went to all lengths possible to break the barriers of edible cuisine without delving into what’s most comfortable: those carvings of beef, chicken, sausage, and whatever other muscles and intestines most of the populace eats.

It was pretty impressive. In truth, our marriage had little to do with food of course, but our relationship was comfortable from the very beginning because he honored this facet of me from the very start, while never making unintended promises to one day stop eating meat himself.  To this day, we either eat a meatless dinner, or have two similar dinners—one with meat and one without.

It works out pretty nicely because he knew from the beginning vegetarianism was a strong conviction and he hasn’t tried to slip in the chicken broth on even one occasion.

Not so serious:

Husb and I share the knowledge that a seventh food group exists: the Cheeto Group. This was a commonality we found right from the beginning. No one can pound a daily bag of Cheetos like the two of us, and for this, I can forgive even the meatiest atrocity. Did you know that in 2008, a Jesus-like Cheeto was discovered, since dubbed Cheesus?  Cheesus, if this common ground doesn't bind two people together, what does?

What's Happened to American Dialogue?

Now Gropius has always been a place for everyone—short and fat (and gaining like me from all of the junk food at work), tall and thin, black and white, liberal and conservative, etc. Especially that last one. I’ve pretty much had it up to my eyeballs with people who have different political views and can’t still get along. What the hell? We’re all people, right?

One of my favorite people at work couldn’t be more different than me when it comes to politics, but I love to talk to him because we challenge each other’s beliefs. We'e both very educated about the issues on which we share dialogue. And although we’ll never convince the other to change, we respect one another and in the end, it’s really just about two people having a passionate conversation. And true to form with Gropius, even if you respectfully disagree with my opinion, your comment is very welcome. I truly appreciate different points of view.

So here’s our new Gropius friend. Someone who just left a comment (on the wrong entry I might add) to a statement I made here:

“Here's the infamous border fence, keeping our America safe from pot, people and...hmmm....wait? What's it for?"

It’s true, some patrolling of our border may be necessary for many reasons, but the fence? I do happen to find it just atrocious. Maybe you feel differently. That’s fine. Isn’t that why we can live in this place called America? If you find yourself hating people who have different political views, I think the problem is yours, my friend.

Here’s what our friend said about my comment above in red:
After all, only marijuana gets smuggled across the Border. Not heroin, cocaine, weapons and terrorists. It is only pot. RIGHT. Wow, you really are ignorant.

To many uneducated liberals, the Border Fence may just be that.

I'm sure you think that most illegal aliens are just coming over to work and find a better life. Unfortunatley, a majority of them have backgrounds that include rape, murder, drug smuggling, and numerous other felonies. But I'm sure that doesnt matter to a left wing douche like you.

Let's just open the country to them. After all, they aren't coming to your neighborhood, are they? The luxury that you have is that you don't really know what happens in these Border towns and you can cry and bitch all you want, but the fact remains that if the Border Patrol wasn't around, your life as you know it would not exist.


Like I said, different opinions are important to me. They help all of us to continue re-thinking and evaluating our stances and enable us to find new solutions. But honestly, Anonymous, if you’re that intelligent, maybe you could discuss the issue intelligently.  You made quite a few assumptions about what I know and don't know. How presumptuous of you. 

“You really know what happens in these border towns?”  Clearly you would be surprised to know all of the research I have done on the issue and having just come from a border town, I've seen a few things for myself.  We just feel a little differently about this. And one of us knows a little more about having an adult conversation. "Douche?"   That's so 80's.

Here's the point:

Isn’t it sad that Anonymous and so many other Americans are losing the ability to talk to one another humanely when they disagree? I was just chatting up this topic with a fellow blogger before Anonymous delighted my morning by proving a point.

My 13 YEAR OLD is more educated in having conversations. If Anonymous was really feeling smart about his comment and conduct, he would have included his name.

One of the biggest opportunities we have here in today's devisive American climate is to be friendly with and/or respectful of those who feel differently about the big issues. It will only benefit you and the country as a whole.  Comments on either side welcome. As long as you're decent.

Girls & Beauty: Let's Teach Them the Truth

Maybe you never saw this. Or maybe you did but it's been a few years.



After taking a tour at Girls, Inc. on Wednesday, I see the need to keep educating our girls on the necessity of being strong, smart and bold. It seems as essential as vitamins and minerals. 

It's amazing that a girl can grow up empowered by her inner beauty with all of the messages she continues to see in advertisements, on television, in magazines and from her peers. 

As a step-parent of an energetic teenage boy, I'm ever aware of his perceptions of female beauty, hoping he will one day choose a mate who is attractive to him because of her unique perspective on the world, not her botox or her breasts. 

Let's keep strong as a united front, loving all of our female friends, of all heights, all weights, shapes, hair colors, pimply and flawless skin.  I love what Girls Inc is doing across the country. Let's all be mini-messengers.