Tag Archives: college

We Won’t Go Back

My mother won a prize as a new high school grad in the mid-fifties. She was tied for best grades in the entire city of Montreal, Canada. Her reward was not college but a couple of years as a secretary before marrying my father and moving to the U.S. She kept her Green Card for over fifty years, never becoming a U.S. citizen.

At first, she told me that I could hopefully expect to end up as well as she did, married and with a family to raise. Then in the seventies she read Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem and went to community college to study to become a paralegal. My sister and I, in high school, took turns making dinner after school so Mom could go to class and study.

In contrast, Dad always went after what he wanted. He was the first in his family to attend college and was adamant that all four of his children would go to good colleges and graduate, which we did. Mom started her four-year higher education when I did, she graduated summa cum laude with a degree in accounting and aced her CPA exam first time out. I graduated deans’ list. Late bloomer?

Work seemed daunting at first but I was smart and could do it easily. It just required much time and effort and a lot of thinking outside the box to problem-solve thorny legal issues. The toughest thing for me was looking young, being a single female and being taken seriously in terms of subject matter, pay and figuring out how not to be hit on by wayward legislators every day.

Friends married, had kids. I was happy to be in the thick of policy/politics and still learning new things every day. So I kept it up, not seeing myself like the wives of my male colleagues, with whom I had less and less in common. We were good friends, but in a fashion limited by their routines.

So when did I become a dreaded childless cat lady? Or did I? Yes, I’m married nearly 22 years, childless at 65, and have had only two cats in my life, now passed. I was fighting for the rights of voters, gays and lesbians, and crime victims. I was making things better for all people of my state.

I had, and have, something to offer and I care about my country and its people of all colors, gender affiliations and faiths. I have a stake in the world around me and no-one can tell me otherwise. Not JD Vance, not anybody.

The next few months, after the Kamala honeymoon, will be brutal, and when she wins, it won’t be over. Trump is telling people they don’t need to vote (!) and that they can vote this time but in four years there will no longer be a need for Americans to vote because he will have taken care of things. That is hellishly frightening. Voter suppression will be rampant, along with chicanery, law-breaking, inane legal battles and perhaps even political violence.

Those of us who want to retain/return to the rights we fought for and deserve need to be in it for the long haul, because if the executive and SCOTUS have their way, there will be no Constitution, no United States of America as we know it. I PREFER FREEDOM!!! Dee

You Know Your iPhone

is old when:

People you don’t remember are listed as contacts;

Dead people from years ago are in it and their names bring back memories;

The bank you’ve been with 20 years will no longer let you access via cell phone;

You can not read texts without better glasses or a magnifying glass (that’s me getting old as well);

You cannot text because everything is too darned small (that’s partly me); and

Dinner guests come over, all place their phones on the coffee table for a pre-dinner drink and hors d’oeuvres all the iPhone 6+s laugh at my antique phone.

It’s a 3. Not a 3G or 3GS. It’s an iPhone 3 that can only last 20 minutes off life support. So what did my husband do on a business trip? Stole my car charger. What happens if I’m stranded in the middle of the desert with a dead, old phone? Yes, I’ll be a dead, old gal and my dog will find her way somewhere to a new home where she’ll be welcomed with open arms.

He did get me a new charger, realizing the implications of his actions. I went to dinner with the other new phone owners and didn’t bring mine along lest it be laughed at. They enjoyed the comment and we had a lovely meal.

Can I keep the phone as an antique? Not a great idea, though I’ve the first 1957 portable Smith-Corona typewriter, a gift from my dear aunt for high school graduation that was the envy of my dorm in college. Market value on eBay is $6 but I lug it across country, waiting for that country cabin where I can place it on my antique English oak desk in front of a window overlooking mountains and really write. Think Ernest Hemingway with snow. That’s if I can still find ribbons.

I lug the typewriter and desk because they have great meaning to me. They both signify independence of a sort. Being on my own at college, buying my first piece of furniture. Dear husband, of course your counsel will be sought but I’d rather an iPhone 6+ and the $20 MacBook (8 years old) battery you sent me last week than an iPad and new laptop. You’re great! And as you see, I’m not a shopper.

The husband and dog come with me everywhere, no lugging involved, some dog hair when I lift the old girl up to her orthopedic bed in my car. She has no hips.

Cars bring me from A to B, safely. I fought against having a cell phone for years until I was caught in the middle of Camp Pendleton for three hours. A day after my car’s 35K checkup ($700) the rear differential broke on the highway. I was on the shoulder with no access to the base and walked to a horrible yellow highway phone box and waited for hours. Of course someone left a wrench or something in the works and the dealer paid to fix their mistake. It cost me a lot of time and a critical client meeting, as Art Garfunkel would say, 99 miles to L.A.

Cell phones keep me in touch with family, friends and get me out of trouble if I’m ever stuck with a flat tire and have to call AAA. I do like the look of the iPhone 6+, dear, and for once would like a new phone, not a hand-me-down. Cheers! Dee

 

Barbie

I’m one wife who wanted a priest but was being married to a Christian from another denomination. We eloped, it was complicated.

Today I talked to my favorite priest in the world, Fr. C. He was my adviser in college and probably the reason I chose Sociology as my major. We’ve stayed in touch for over 30 years since my graduation.

I hope he left notes for his “Barbie” lecture as it is legendary. Something like Barbie is well over six feet tall, her measurements and how no woman can look like her but everyone tried to do so. As a young girl, my mother would not allow a Barbie in the house, and I didn’t know why until I wrote “Horses Sweat, Men Perspire and Women Glow” as my high school thesis about equality in sports.

Fr. C has been a Franciscan inspiration to me for many years. He inspired my creativity, smarts and kindness to others, including animals. Sorry Fr., birds flying around my head still freak me out as I was attacked by giant crows at age 12 coming home from the school bus. Perhaps falconry may be my penance.

Friends, family age and leave us. He wants me to come to lunch. It’s at least a thousand miles away but I may just do it. Cheers and thank your mentor today. Dee

 

70’s Theme?

I’m thinking of getting together a cocktail party with a 70’s theme. Of course I’d have to come up with a cocktail. James Beard can help me with that, his book of course. I am honored to have cooked our graduation dinner at the Beard House. He and Julia Child revolutionized the food world. Julia brought French home cooking home, and James brought Americans to regional cuisine that celebrates our heritage, yet it worked together. Amazing!

Instead of a can of cream of mushroom soup, I’m changing it up, culinarily at least. No disco ball, but disco music will be found and played. Actually I liked Jerry Jeff Walker, Pure Prairie League and Marshall Tucker better, still do. London Homesick Blues was/is our un-official alma mater theme.

Perhaps a red/white checked tablecloth and cheap candles melted over a wine bottle as decorations. I’d have to find, buy and scuttle two bottles of “Blue Nun” for that.

I’d do the cheese fondue with real Gruyere. Now that I’ve written this it’s more about what changed in the culinary world in the 70’s that got folks out of the post-war canned goods phenomenon. That deserves some work on my part, which I will impart to you once complete.

In college in the 70’s I was the cook, usually for ten or more every evening. I never had to clear a plate or wash a dish, or go grocery shopping. There was a list, and they were supposed to get a 50# bag of potatoes. They brought home canned potatoes because they were on sale. From then on I went grocery shopping, with my list, and told them what to get!

Ten-plus people on $120/week (six residents at $20 ea), two meals per day was tough. But other students always showed up, for food and camaraderie. And nightly games of Uno.

Any ideas? Chime in anytime.