Category Archives: Editorial

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The Way

It is a heartbreaking story through which at least a father finds redemption. As I read the numbers of people who are taking the Camino now it sounds like more of a tourist trap than anything else. Yes, get your college degree in a month and get it stamped at the Campostela. Fly there, drive a hundred kilometers and get a certificate. You might think it’s good for heart and soul but it is not.

In the film, an opthalmologist takes on a walk his son began and could not finish. The film did not have a huge audience but it’s now on tv so I can see its understatement and power. One reviewer said it was boring or bland. Well, go to Bruckheimer and pals for car crashes and explosions.

I’d hate to say this is a “chick flick” because it isn’t. It is of a man who takes his son on the son’s route, meets fellow travelers and becomes a leader and loves his son and wants to do right. If you’re looking for crashing planes, cars and explosions this is not the film for you, but then you would not be reading this.

Just to make sure you of the Bruckheimer movies not reading this, how about my lemon pound cake trifle? Next time I’ll include lots of rhubarb and strawberries.

Thank you Mr. Estevez, Mr. Sheen, for making a movie I recommended to my retired English teacher aunts, who created the first Holocaust and Native American curricula in the nation. They taught me just a bit about how they taught, just by mentoring me, not to mention how to spell and how to cook.

It turns out they’ve seen The Way and were moved by it as well. Cheers! Dee

Gentlemen

I don’t know many. Over the years they’ve been rare. I am lucky to say that my husband is one and so is his father. Yes, so is my father, of course. My brother, yes, he’s treated me well over decades even though I was his babysitter and that bodes ill in my book because we used to play hide and seek and I wouldn’t look for him for 20 minutes. My husband’s brother could have his photo next to the word “Gentleman” in the dictionary.

As I look over my life the friends I’ve kept in touch with since grade school who happen to be male are gentlemen and very intelligent as well. My Uncle and cousins fit the bill as well.

On our first date my husband went around the car, opened the door for me and took my hand and never let go. It’s been nearly 14 years, married 12. No-one else in the world was my soul mate, spouse and best friend.

Young gents. Learn to say please and thank you and ask to be excused from the dinner table. Say guests’ names or Ma’am and Sir. Write a note for your birthday gift. Dear Uncle Z, I really like the iPad you gave me. That’s why I didn’t send a paper note because I want you to know I’m really using it! Thanks so much! Pete

Make it personal. Always think of the other person first and what their interests are in a conversation. You meet a girl, college. Hi, I’m Jeff. Don’t you look gorgeous tonight! The blue goes with your eyes. Would you like to dance?

In the end, care. If you don’t you’ll be poor or rich, but poorer for not having met the right gal, and in rehab or a nice home with a family that loves you.

I grew up in a very strict household, Catholic French-Canadian and German. Today I find that some children don’t have any rules, only rewards. If you get a C average I’ll buy you a car. What? I had to garden, lay bricks and stones to keep water out and be the concrete chef (mixing Portland cement and sand with water in a wheelbarrow) for the front stoop that will be there until something freezes over. That’s an old story you’ll have to look up on site.

Perhaps that was my first moment as a chef as before, I only opened those tins with cinnamon rolls by rapping them on the counter! Revise story, Dee. I did start organizing parties and making birthday cakes at age eight.

Hope you had a good weekend and know that your husband and sons are gents. And gents, you already know that.  Cheers! Dee

 

Stolen

We were broken into twice, huge sneaker imprints on doors. Stole my roommate’s Schwinn bike and my Chautauqua tote bag and drove by the governor’s mansion in NY State. The guard, of course, didn’t see a guy with size 14 shoes riding a gold girl’s bike with a tote bag of swag.

He actually left two dead roses at our door that morning. We were lowly-paid analysts working for the state and hadn’t angered anyone we knew.

They took pennies from her Waterford candy vessel, and took a couple of dollars and left the priceless piece.

From me, they went through my closet and it felt as if I was raped. The second time they used the size 14 shoes to go through two 2/4’s into my bedroom. They took an antique cigarette box from my Great Aunt Owee. In it were her necklace and bracelet and earrings of Sapphire and diamonds. I regret that loss every day and do look on eBay to see if I can find all those components.

Dear Owee died 15 years ago at nearly 100 years old. I do have her wedding pearls that I used as “something old” at our wedding 12 years ago. I will continue looking for her things. She gave them to me but I always think of them as borrowed as I would like to give them to the young people in our Canadian family. OK, I might keep the cigarette box as it reminds me of her. Caught me. Dee

 

Safety and Security

I feel safe here. When my husband is off at work for a week or months I know I have a safety net. Where? Everywhere. At all levels.

It’s called friends. Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. We’re in transition again, three times in a month. We’re not moving anywhere unless something’s real. I have home base and will cook. Husband will be able to come home weekends. Dog will like him again. Yes, she loves him again, he’s the Fun Guy and I’m the Walker and Food Wench.

Security hits me like a brick wall (or slipping on a wet walkway) as it also means monetary security and having three jobs in a month is crazy and doesn’t lead to contentment on the wife’s part.

He has his job, I try to keep our lives together by making his job easier. He has someone who takes care of the home, meals, dog. I review contracts, pay bills, do taxes, and am also a problem solver and former consultant. I’m retired from all and getting used to not being paid for what I do.

We need to move simply for airport access. No, we won’t be at the back of the runway but I’ll need safety. To be sure, my dear husband always checks out everywhere we live. He sleeps through the night and I’m up at every dog whine to get up to the bed or go out. He wants to make sure I can take our older dog out in the middle of the night and be safe. I love him for this. Zoe loves him.

It’s no longer Good Friday so Happy Easter! Make those eggs and Hot Cross Buns. Send the kids on an egg hunt. We’re going to enjoy a good day together before a flight elsewhere…. Dee

 

Same Time, Next Year

Ellen Burstyn was the lead with Kris Kristofferson in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore on my first date, at age 16. My parents chose the movie. I had to be home by ten but he did donuts (360’s) on Main Street on several inches of ice beforehand. We did go out once again.

Last year our County stopped dealing with snow and ice. There was about 4″ of ice on the County sidewalk when I saw all of my older hipless wonder-dog’s feet go out from under her. I raised the leash and saved her but I went down hard. She was OK. I had an 8X10″ bruise that lasted eight months.

Yesterday morning, on a wet street my heel went out from under me at the painted part of a crosswalk. I couldn’t recover (former gymnast) so pitched forward. I’ll have a bruise on my right knee but have pulled muscles on my left side so I could land with my hands and mitigate the fall. No-one helped.

It looks as if Spring is en route here and we may be going elsewhere but at least, after seeing parts of it again, I now understand what Ellen Burstyn was doing in Alice. She was becoming herself. I didn’t understand that at age 16. Or at age 21 when I was supposed to be married to the same guy and called it off weeks after the engagement.

I have now time, with husband and dog. Now I think of Ms. Burstyn as a character with Alan Alda in Same Time, Next Year. We’ll land where we choose to do so. Yes, I’ve made good decisions like having a dog to see how permissive/spoiling my husband is. He is terrible. Treats, human food. But the old hip-less girl follows me around because I’m the food wench and major walker.

In a way I found myself through shelter animals, caring for them, adopting four over 30 years, and spaying/neutering over 2,000 feral cats. Thank you, Ellen Burstyn, for planting a seed in my mind that has been nurtured over the years. Yes, I’ll forgive you if Jack does for Nurse Ratchet. Cheers! Dee

 

Wanting a Car

When I became 16 and got my learners’ permit and first license, I wanted a car. In order to use one for summer work that meant Dad taking me around the high school parking lot one evening to learn to work a stick. The next day I took the 1973 Super Beetle convertible to my work. It was a great car. I think I messed up the gears a bit my first couple of days.

For college graduation I got an old Olds station wagon, that I later sold, after cracking the engine block (not my fault) for $400 then got a trashed VW Bug, pea green with rustoleum, for $1,500. It was sold to me by someone I trusted and was a two-speed manual with fuel injection. It was totaled on the street one day by a politician’s kid and I had to have it re-done and was advised never to take a hard left turn or I would blow up.

Then I bought my mother’s Honda Accord that I loved and was, unfortunately, eaten up by New York’s salt and sand policies for snow removal. I gave that to charity for the metal.

My first new car was a Jeep, an Army Jeep that I outfitted in the back for my dog. I had that for the ten years I had the rescue dog. Her Collie friend jumped in the back so she did as well. For five years I’d been lifting her in. Go figure. We sold that and it went to a military family nearby.

Our current vehicles are over ten years old. We take good care of them because they provide us transportation and fit the profile. My husband is tall and fits very few cars. He likes his sedan and I love my mid-sized SUV. Most models now will not fit his head space. I can fit anything but both our cars must fit him so we are constrained by said space.

Now, our cars have been taken from us and are only available through valet service for three weeks. Yes, I thought it was an April Fools’ Day joke as well. I want my car. I want my car because I own it and pay for parking and don’t want to have to plan trips for groceries, dog food, et al.

Our garage has been leaking calcium deposits for years and my paint is probably ruined. That’s what they’re finally fixing. Enough people complained about their new cars being ruined because of snow melt through the underground garage so they’re finally doing something. I moved to a space underneath a space that is protected. Why they did such a haphazard approach is a mystery to me.

We pay a lot to live here. They didn’t think anything through from the valet to movers and furniture company deliveries. Mostly, they didn’t think about us. We pay to live here. We need transportation. Keeping us from our cars for nearly a month is ridiculous. I will find another underground garage nearby and charge them for it. I want access to my car.

What if someone said they needed my computer for a month, or my frig or food processor? NO! But they took my car. My car is not a statement, or my life. It is transportation from A to B. With the shenanagans going on downstairs, getting my car anytime in the next three days is a crap shoot, and I even gave the Valet service dog treats to mollify the complainers.

That’s how it is. April Fools for some, not for us.

Roots

Let’s take a state in which a resident has long-term roots. Here’s my recipe for disaster to ruin his life.

Add a spoonful of politician who taints the state. Stir in 1/4 cup of presidential ambition.

Let’s add two cups of ego, 1/2 cup of false bravado, a cup of anti-human rights medicine that extends to anyone that doesn’t look like oneself to include hatred against races, gender, religion, and actual or perceived sexual orientation.

Add a tablespoon of his own medicine, from Mr. Pence, how he sleeps at night. Add 1 teaspoon about how he really feels about his family while espousing hatred against voters.

No, I will not include cyanide in this recipe because he needs to live through this, Governor, and face those with roots in what you think is your state. It is the state of your residents, your voters. You may take a fall politically for your party because you’ll never be president, but when you do so you take a fall for everyone in your state. Sorry, you were thinking about yourself, not “them.”

My family and friends have roots in the state you govern. Right now they are embarrassed to claim to do so. Why? You. When I worked in politics years ago I knew that the bureaucrats just waited for the elected politicians to leave office so they could keep the balance and eliminate extra work.

I vote in this instance for those who have deep roots in democracy, thoughtfulness of others, and pride in their State. Discrimination is hatred. Those with roots will save and grow those roots for good. You, as a politician, will go by the wayside. Let’s hope you have a day job. Cheerily, Dee

Women

For centuries doctors did not even think of studying women or their diseases. They only concentrated on men and convinced women that they were suffering from hysteria. When women swooned, it was probably that their corset was tied too tight, see Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind and another character I loved in Hattie McDaniel, her maid that made that corset tight.

Now we have walks and runs for breast cancer. That’s a good thing, because the medical people finally chose to get along with knowing how women also have heart attacks differently than men.

For years studies have shown that television, movies and video games have led to violence in men. As far as I know, no-one has studied whether movies, television and video games lead to subservience in women.

I did my high school thesis on Title IX, entitled “Horses Sweat, Men Perspire and Women Glow.”  What we see in life is not what we see on screen. I have my prince, but not Clark Gable or Cary Grant, Henry Fonda, Marlon Brando or Gregory Peck and let’s throw in Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan into the mix. I’m talking about their movies and what the public thinks about their persons.

That’s what girls look for. I got all of those with a physicist/software engineer. Don’t get me wrong, I never looked and it took 20 years after age 20 to find my prince. He found me. He says I found him. I say we found each other on that day 14 years ago. In him I also found my crushes Alan Bates and Alan Rickman. So, call it a day.

What do girls look for now? I was very upset that young teen girls, over Thanksgiving, were looking at a Barbie website. Media only employs skinny girls, mainly blond, and stupid. Girls don’t have a chance to meet ideal model weight so become bulimic or anorexic trying to gain favor with parents and others.

So what happens to smart girls like me who grew up in the dark ages? I love Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Kathy Bates, Meryl Streep, Penny Marshall, Diane Keaton, Gwyneth Paltrow, Olivia d’Havilland, Kathleen Turner, Jodie Foster, Greta Scacchi, Glenn Close, Judy Garland, Audrey Hepburn (who was much stronger than she looked), and many young actresses I’ve seen on screens as they matured and walk and talk like smart women.

Thank you role models. And My Girl Friday. Also Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce. There are so many of you for girls to see yet you’re off playing Barbie. Think smart and strong, young ladies. And a good mornin’ to ye! Dee

 

Remember the Titans

Yes, I do. You may remember them from the Denzel Washington movie of the same name. I remember them because I moved in as a student the year after the Titans took the State Championship in a game against my new school, G.C. Marshall.

Ironically the first person and friend I met on campus was a Black man, the first Black person I’d ever met, who was funny and smart. I didn’t understand the racial tensions until The Titans (T.C. Williams) came to our school to play football, with multiple SWAT teams, police cars and a heavy police presence. To this day I do not know who was being protected by such a force, perhaps the police did not either.

I did meet one neighborhood titan, a smart, very nice gal, sassy and an oboe player in the school band. Turns out we were born on the same time on the same day and year. We were just in touch last week after…. forty years. I haven’t seen J in 30 years but she’s just helped us narrow down neighborhoods. The first thing I’ll do is have her family over for dinner!

Her mother, Elsa, used to host great parties. She introduced me to eggplant, a fruit one could not readily obtain at the local grocery store back in the Johnson administration. I just scanned and emailed J two of her mother’s eggplant recipes on cards from the 70’s.

These are sacred memories, that last a lifetime. Some people I know never leave the small town in which they were born, never go off to college or get a job out of state. That’s all well and good. My family, and J’s moved all over the place, for different reasons (her dad was military) and while it was difficult to get to know new people every few years a few have stuck.

I’ve a good friend from grade school, some from high school, college and many beyond. It’s great to be able to contact an old friend and say, hey, I may be living in your town soon, any ideas?

To old friends, Dee

18 Karat

At a young age every girl my age had their ears pierced. My mother made me wait until I was 16 to make my decision and we went to a jeweler who pierced my ears with the bullets. Yes, a spike in a 10K gold “bullet.”

Not only were my ears infected for 18 months, I had to use one earring to pass my riflery exam. Over the years I realized I could not use 10K gold, silver, surgical steel, even 12 or 14 K gold.

Years ago my husband bought me two small hoop earrings with a clasp. They are 18 carat gold. I have worn them for over 12 years, day and night. We did our wedding bands in 18K gold.

I came from a wanna be to a Dee to a me to a thee and Dee. I don’t have jewelry. I’ve a gold wedding band from the man I love, and earrings as a dear gift from my husband, one and the same, and I will wear both forever. Cheers, Dee