Don't Run the Air

I'm lying in my bed in the dark in my 3rd floor apartment looking out at some of the prettiest cookie cutter townhomes you can find in the Indianapolis area. Each porch light is on and seemingly aiming with all their might up to my room. And, there is that kid who's been allowed to dribble a basketball just below...

Being single, I'm watching the bills. I was taught at a young age the tips for saving money with the electric bill. Of course, one of the best ways is to open up the windows and not "run the air" as we Southerners called it. Of course, that lets all the light and noise in as well.

Lying here, I remember how miserable the South Georgia heat and humidity was when I was a child. My Granny, who had spent a poor, hard life raising her four children alone, would care for us when our parents worked nights. My sister and I would sleep in one bed in one corner of the room, while Granny slept in her bed on the other side of the room. Of course, Granny rarely ran the air, but she would position oscillating fans at our bed to keep us cool. "Can you feel that?" she would say as she tried to aim the fans at us just right. I know we would sweat through the sheets, and sometimes it was miserable, but I would love to spend one more night like that. I had the comfort of having my sister close by, and my Granny was there to protect us all. While she worshipped an Almighty God, she slept with a shotgun close by for anyone who dared come near her babies.

For now, I'll just keep her memory with me and continue to share her stories. She would be proud of my recent $53.14 light bill.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am watching a History Channel show talking about the assassination of Dr. King. Every time I hear him speak, I am so moved. There was the obvious natural born charisma he possessed, but the words he spoke were so profound and so long awaited.

I was fortunate enough to attend the Inauguration of President Obama last year at this time. I remember at the Freedom Celebration, it was so amazing to think that I was standing in such an historical moment and place where there were not just black and not just white attending, but there was such a myriad of colors to be seen. It was America as it should be, as it was meant to be. It was a common gathering of people celebrating the progress of a nation where anyone can be anything they want.

I do not pretend that I am not white. I do not pretend that I didn't grow up in South Georgia where had I posted this even 20 years ago I would have done better to simply move out of town. I do not deny that I have ancestors who hated and did abhorrent things. I also can help all of that about as much as I can change the color of my own skin. And, I am not so naive to say that racism no longer exists even down to my own generation. I know because I have seen it first hand. However, I have also seen such a dramatic shift in the beliefs of my generation, and even the generation before mine. I have seen men who would not have heard of being friends with a different race who now embrace their children's love for everyone and the combining of cultures, colors, and beliefs. What causes this dramatic shift? I believe wholeheartedly that it is education. As my college sociology teacher, Ms. Brooks, told us at the beginning of class, the more educated we become, the less prejudice we would be. The ability to argue and discuss verbally and in a structured manner, where everyone is heard, progresses society as a whole.

Now, if we could just improve our education system...

I Miss Real Dates

What happened to real "dates" anyway? You know, the guy asks the girl out, he pays and handles everything, and he doesn't get pissed that she didn't give him some because he was expecting better from the first date. Yes, I'm Little Miss Independent, and I've got the career and all that goes with it, but that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate effort and respect.

I've all but given up on dating anyway. The last date I went on involved going out for drinks, him groping me and getting really pissed that I didn't let him come up to my apartment. The next one is not really a date. We are meeting for the "5-8" special priced meal during the week. I guess it's cool that some guys respect that some women are insulted when a guy offers to pay, but why not make the chivalrous effort? Don't worry, I don't feel like I owe you a damn thing just because you bought me dinner. If it was for sale, you'd better pull out more cash than that.

I guess that's why I like the older guys. They know better most of the time, and they have all the awkward parts figured out already because they've been there. It's not the money. Any jackass can have money, and I make enough on my own. Older men just seem to be more caring, loving, and appreciative of the fact that you aren't giving it up every drunk party. They appreciate the intrigue, the chase, the "spark" if you will. It's just more fun that way. Of course, it's just awkward to meet their kids who are about my age or older in some cases.

So what is a real date? It's that old fashioned notion. It's him coming to pick me up for the evening (and that does not mean honking the horn when you get here), and we go to dinner and some sort of event be it the cinema or a symphony or some place of common interest, and we simply enjoy each other's company.

Rosalind Franklin

This woman was brilliant. Google her for details; I'm not writing a book.

I was reading National Geographic's "The Complete Human Body" when I came across a little snippet about Franklin. Her work in physics and X-ray diffraction gave base to Watson and Crick's DNA studies and aided in the discovery of the double helix. However, her work was shown to the DNA Discovery Duo without her permission, and she received no deserving credit for her work. She was patronized most of her career. She was denied her degree from Cambridge because women were not awarded those there at the time. She received her PhD from Ohio University at least.

If that isn't enough, she gets ovarian cancer and dies at age 38. WTF?! AND THEN, the DNA Discovery Duo and Wilkins the Leaker received the Nobel Peace Prize for the work after her death! She was not eligible for the Prize because they do not award it posthumously. But, damn if she had not gotten ovarian cancer (likely from X-Ray radiation!), she would have likely gotten it!

Well, Rosalind, if you can hear me, thank you so much for pioneering DNA work and being your brilliant self.

In Memory of Nana (02 Nov 1943-02 Nov 2003)

***NOTE: This is not meant to be a religious demonstration. I am sharing the story of someone I loved dearly. So, don't click away the second you see anything to do with religion. The story is good.***

I'm not religious, and neither was Nana. Nana actually and truly believed in the Christian God. She was not a Sunday Christian, and though she was not perfect, she was the closest I ever saw to the real deal of what Christianity or any religion was intended to be if it originated from one's heart rather than the standard hypocrisy. She was not a radical. She was never judgmental. She showed love to those that the church might often shun.

So, in her memory, I will post something she wrote for the high school where she worked. It was not long after my birth, and I was her first grandchild. She worked in the lunchroom at a private school so that she could send her kids there. She eventually went on to become an R.N., and she worked in Hematology/Oncology at a non-profit hospital in her 40's and 50's. She was diagnosed with Parkinson's around age 57, and she passed away as I watched on her 60th birthday. She was very much my mother as much as my grandmother. She taught me everything from how to be a lady to how to put on pantyhose appropriately. She loved everyone, took in troubled teens, and at times was the only love ever seen by an individual.

I tried to leave punctuation and underlining just how she had it.

From The Talon, vol. XIV no. 3 Nov/Dec 1983, Terrell Academy, Dawson, GA

Memories........

I remember elementary school, ... fat crayons, big pencils, Dick and Jane, Fluff, and Spot, recess, the excitement of pictures, becoming alive as I discovered how to read!!

At home, I remember things like...The security of putting my hand in Mom's, (I still remember how it felt,) coming home from school to the smell of supper cooking; playing jump rope, or "jacks" until dark; How much fun it was to play in the mud, (My brother really appreciated my "mud pies", he even ate them!); and in the winter, riding a big sled in the snow, and lying down and making "angels" in the snow.

I remember when we lived in Idaho, how the coyotes sounded when they howled during the night, how my dad always was bringing home pheasant, deer, elk, rabbits, or even bear for us to eat. I especially remember the time my mother was so excited when she opened the back door one morning to be confronted by a black bear! (She ran, ....He ran!)

Then, as life moved on, I really felt "grown up" as I began Jr. High school. We loved our "poodle skirts", saddle oxford shoes, "bobby sox", and of course our "can-can" slips that we wore with our skirts. (Sometimes it was hard to walk through a row of seats where all the girls sat.) Now they're only worn when people are "clogging", but then we wore them every day!

And of course, we loved Elvis Presley, Pat Boone, Ricky Nelson; and songs like "Blue Suede Shoes", "Blueberry Hill", "Purple People Eater", and "Through the Green Door."

Then, High School!!! I really felt this was It! Surely nothing else in life could ever compare with all my great friends, cars that were lowered to nearly drag the ground, (otherwise you were considered a 'square'), loud music at all hours of the day if possible, and ball games. Chrysler High School in Indiana had at the time the largest high school gym in the world. It seats 10,000 people. And was full for most of the ball games. Our favorite dating game pastime was to drive through every drive-in eating place in town, drinking lemon or cherry cokes, adn of course, trying to see who could leave the most of a tire on the pavement from a standing position.

Then, came marriage, leaving home, and over a period of 10 years, four daughters; and I found that life continues to be fascinating even when school is behind us. Now at age 40, I find that life passes so quickly! My girls are nearly all grown; I am now a grandmother!!

Of course, along with all the good memories, are many bad, heartbreaking memories also, as always come to everyone.

But, the Golden Thread that runs through the tapestry of my life started the days when I was 10 years old, and I knelt down beside a couch and asked Jesus to come live in my heart. He did, and he has been there through all the good times and bad times.

Some time in all our futures, our life will all only be a memory. And for each one of us, there is a record being kept of the life we are living here on this earth. When the day comes that we stand before God to give account of how we have spent this life that He has given us, only Jesus will be able to cover for us, and even if we've lived a good life, that will not be sufficient if we have not stopped to take the time to invite Christ to be our Personal Savior. And what he saves us from is an eternity in Hell without Him.

We all feel like death only happens to "The other guy." But each one of us has an appointment also. And Dawson really has shown that death does not always take old people. I have gone to funerals of three teenagers in less than a year.

As we approach the Christmas season, let's remember that God's son did not come just so we could remember the birth of a baby! But Jesus came and lived a life here so He could understand just how you feel about life, and then He dies an agonizing death for one reason: so that you could not only have life on eart, but eternal life! As you see the Christmas lights and buy gifts for one another in rememberance of the Birth of the only one who can ever give you access into the beautiful things that God has in store for you; remember the old saying that is really true:..."only one life, will soon be past: only what's done for Christ will last."

...What have you done? I love you all,

Purpose and People

Waking up with a sense of some purpose was awesome today. What was my purpose? To go pee in a cup and be poked and prodded for my new job. I have never been so happy to do these things. My purpose was furthered by the fact that I was pretty sure I had entered heaven at my new place of employment. (I'm part of the medical world again). The people were kind, educated, and respectful. It was infectious. It almost creeped me out a little, but not enough to scare me away. I don't think they realize how wonderful their kindness was to this single girl living alone with her two animals. However, I do feel terrible for offending the nurse. I am often clueless, and it somehow escaped my mind that I am going to work for a CATHOLIC hospital, so saying "Jesus" as I stepped on the scale after having said "Jesus" before for whatever reason, prompted the nurse to say "He is our almighty proctector, and you keep calling out for Him!". Needless to say, I felt like crap, and I managed to only say one more "oh my god" I think. I love that nurse, though. She made me miss my Mama and Nana. :)

But, every good thing must end, and my purpose was replaced with hyper helpful sales associates at the shoe store. I know I am hormonal today, and I know they are just doing their job. Trust me, I've been there doing the same job. I was already tense because I'm having to shop for work shoes on a budget, and while I'm trying to make Nine West boots fit around my thick calves, one of the associates speaks to me as if I'm 5 and says something along the lines of "Did you find some boots you liked?". I was already embarrassing myself, and I saw no reason for her to speak to me loudly and condescendingly. Then, it was like I couldn't get away from all the cheerful people. They should do like we did when I was working the retail circuit. When you come across that bitch who just doesn't want any help, tell all your friends to leave her alone!

Anyway, the day seemed filled with more annoying people than I could handle, so I did not stay out for longer than necessary. Buster and Daisy were happy for me to get the hell out of their house for a change, and I can hardly wait for next week.

Aging is a bitch

Age is such a relentless bitch. I refer to her in the female form as her traits emulate that example best. She ever so slowly grows on you, leaving a mark here and there, until you are consumed by daily reminders that her presence was there all along.

Watching my father age has been the most difficult. I cannot a picture a world without him in it without nearly bursting into tears. I have always said he would live forever, and we would end up in the same retirement home, joking and carrying on as we always have. Of all the people in the world, I simply cannot have him die. Age robs him of pieces here and there. His hearing, memory, concentration, and other things are starting to deteriorate. He seems to push ever on with all the cheer and energy he always has. It's when I see him in person that I collapse inside. I pretend now that it is not happening. I go to that naive part of my mind that knows he will be here even longer than I.

As for myself, I am not yet 30, but I know that my hair is graying, and I already do not have the energy I once did for cleaning the house. The energy part could probably be rectified by exercise and better diet. I figure out who I am more and more every day, and I become much more comfortable with that daily as well. I never knew what "finding one's self" really meant until this year. I know how to recognize it on the faces of others as well. It's a wonderful thing that cannot be faked to those who understand it.