Today we mourn the loss of health care, accessibility, affordable insurance with adequate coverage, the days when the DOCTOR AND PATIENT decided on the course of care - not A GUM-CHEWING INSURANCE CLERK!
I just got notified that our employer is switching our coverage from BLUE CROSS/BLUE SHIELD (YUP - THE FAMOUS "BLUES") because the insurance company fat-cats and stock-holders are increasing our premiums by a whopping 32%!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That puts even the high-co-pay services we had out of reach for everyone. Our employer has absorbed at least 2 increases over the past 2 years and has not passed on the increase to us. But this is ridiculous.
So, to BLUE CROSS/BLUE SHIELD, a message: THHPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!!!!!
TO CONGRESS: DOUBLE-SHAME!!!!!! YOU TRY PAYING THESE PREMIUMS AND CO-PAYS ON MY SALARY. BET YOU'D CLEAN UP THE MESS YOU MADE YEARS AGO WITH ONE STROKE OF THE PEN.
Yes, Mr. Health Care is dead and gone. The entire system is simply going to have to self-destruct so we can re-build and go back to fee-for-service, pay as you go care, and doctors who are allowed to discount fees and set up payment plans.
Oh - and MERRY F**ING XMAS TO YOU TOO, BLUE CROSS/BLUE SHIELD!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
PRESCRIPTION WARNING!!!!!!!!!!
PRESCRIPTION WARNING!!!!
WARNING: WHEN YOU PICK UP A PRESCRIPTION FROM THE PHARMACY, PLEASE BE SURE TO DO THE FOLLOWING:
CHECK THE LABEL: Is it YOUR prescription? Is it the correct medicine? Is it the correct strength? AND – did you get the correct number of pills or correct amount of any other form prescribed?
DID THE PHARMACY CLERK VERIFY YOUR IDENTITY?
If an error was made, how did the pharmacist react? Did he/she personally offer you an apology and assurance that it would NEVER happen again? Did he/she thank you for checking the prescription BEFORE you left the pick-up window?
Yesterday, I picked up a prescription from RITE-AID. The doctor had written it for SIXTY (60) pills because I take two a day. The clerk did not verify that I was indeed the patient for whom the medication was written. She did not even want me to see it! RED FLAG! I made her show it to me and found that the pharmacist had given me a pre-packaged bottle of only THIRTY (30) pills, but the prescription label said SIXTY (60)! When I called this to the clerk’s attention, she said nothing. She showed it to the pharmacist, who said nothing, but quickly printed out another label, placed it on a second bottle of 30 pills, and then DISAPPEARED INTO THE BACK! When I asked the clerk how this could have happened, her explanation was, “We’re so busy, with everyone rushing around. THERE’S NO TIME TO CHECK.”
NO TIME TO CHECK A PRESCRIPTION?
Well, Rite-Aid in Philadelphia, you have been reported to the State Agency that regulates pharmacy licensing. You are being reported to my insurance company for attempted fraud. And I hope that a lot of people read this blog.
Rite-Aid is taking over Eckerd Pharmacy. Instead of getting better, they’re simply getting bigger. There will be more errors.
This is a plea from someone who has worked in medicine for more than 30 years.
PLEASE CHECK YOUR PRESCRIPTIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE PHARMACY!!!!! INSIST THAT THEY CORRECT THEIR MISTAKE BEFORE YOU LEAVE. AND THEN GO HOME AND REPORT THEM! PRESCRIPTION ERRORS CAN BE AN INCONVENIENCE AT LEAST – AND FATAL AT WORST.
WARNING: WHEN YOU PICK UP A PRESCRIPTION FROM THE PHARMACY, PLEASE BE SURE TO DO THE FOLLOWING:
CHECK THE LABEL: Is it YOUR prescription? Is it the correct medicine? Is it the correct strength? AND – did you get the correct number of pills or correct amount of any other form prescribed?
DID THE PHARMACY CLERK VERIFY YOUR IDENTITY?
If an error was made, how did the pharmacist react? Did he/she personally offer you an apology and assurance that it would NEVER happen again? Did he/she thank you for checking the prescription BEFORE you left the pick-up window?
Yesterday, I picked up a prescription from RITE-AID. The doctor had written it for SIXTY (60) pills because I take two a day. The clerk did not verify that I was indeed the patient for whom the medication was written. She did not even want me to see it! RED FLAG! I made her show it to me and found that the pharmacist had given me a pre-packaged bottle of only THIRTY (30) pills, but the prescription label said SIXTY (60)! When I called this to the clerk’s attention, she said nothing. She showed it to the pharmacist, who said nothing, but quickly printed out another label, placed it on a second bottle of 30 pills, and then DISAPPEARED INTO THE BACK! When I asked the clerk how this could have happened, her explanation was, “We’re so busy, with everyone rushing around. THERE’S NO TIME TO CHECK.”
NO TIME TO CHECK A PRESCRIPTION?
Well, Rite-Aid in Philadelphia, you have been reported to the State Agency that regulates pharmacy licensing. You are being reported to my insurance company for attempted fraud. And I hope that a lot of people read this blog.
Rite-Aid is taking over Eckerd Pharmacy. Instead of getting better, they’re simply getting bigger. There will be more errors.
This is a plea from someone who has worked in medicine for more than 30 years.
PLEASE CHECK YOUR PRESCRIPTIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE PHARMACY!!!!! INSIST THAT THEY CORRECT THEIR MISTAKE BEFORE YOU LEAVE. AND THEN GO HOME AND REPORT THEM! PRESCRIPTION ERRORS CAN BE AN INCONVENIENCE AT LEAST – AND FATAL AT WORST.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR?
This is a bit sensitive and quite difficult to write. If it gets published, then I’ve come a lot farther than I thought.
I suffered a childhood trauma that NO child should suffer at the hands of her father. No, it was not as severe because I was old enough and strong enough to pull away rather quickly, especially given my father’s sleepy and slightly inebriated state. Like any other youngster, I pretended that it never happened and promptly buried the memory.
Here I am in my 50s, a time it seems that old memories suddenly re-surface, asking to be faced and dealt with so that we can continue to grow into our next phase of life. Out came this nightmare. After dealing with it on my own for a time, I decided to seek out a psychologist, one dealing with cognitive-behavioral therapy so I could learn to deal with this and any future situations myself. Heavens! I’m actually seeing a shrink!!!! Not me!
I confided in my long-time mentor, a wonderful man who has known me since my teen years. His response was, “So? That was a long time ago. Forget about it.” When I told him that it was not going away on its own and that I’d sought professional help, he said, “You should know better than that. Forget about it.”
Okay – he was a kid once. He was raised in a stable home environment by two loving parents. He was, however, nor will he ever be, A GIRL! He was never even eligible for the title of altar boy because his family was not Catholic.
I couldn’t explain to him what I was going through. It was obvious that he was not even going to attempt to understand that I could be feeling emotionally bruised.
I’ve told few people about this experience, and those I’ve told have been amazingly supportive and loving and encouraging. I guess there has to be one in every group. I’ve supported him through cancer, surgeries, all matters of health and family crises – without question.
So, what to do? Nothing. Keep on the path I’ve chosen in dealing with the experience. At the same time, I realize that while I’ve not lost a friend, I have lost a confidant.
I suffered a childhood trauma that NO child should suffer at the hands of her father. No, it was not as severe because I was old enough and strong enough to pull away rather quickly, especially given my father’s sleepy and slightly inebriated state. Like any other youngster, I pretended that it never happened and promptly buried the memory.
Here I am in my 50s, a time it seems that old memories suddenly re-surface, asking to be faced and dealt with so that we can continue to grow into our next phase of life. Out came this nightmare. After dealing with it on my own for a time, I decided to seek out a psychologist, one dealing with cognitive-behavioral therapy so I could learn to deal with this and any future situations myself. Heavens! I’m actually seeing a shrink!!!! Not me!
I confided in my long-time mentor, a wonderful man who has known me since my teen years. His response was, “So? That was a long time ago. Forget about it.” When I told him that it was not going away on its own and that I’d sought professional help, he said, “You should know better than that. Forget about it.”
Okay – he was a kid once. He was raised in a stable home environment by two loving parents. He was, however, nor will he ever be, A GIRL! He was never even eligible for the title of altar boy because his family was not Catholic.
I couldn’t explain to him what I was going through. It was obvious that he was not even going to attempt to understand that I could be feeling emotionally bruised.
I’ve told few people about this experience, and those I’ve told have been amazingly supportive and loving and encouraging. I guess there has to be one in every group. I’ve supported him through cancer, surgeries, all matters of health and family crises – without question.
So, what to do? Nothing. Keep on the path I’ve chosen in dealing with the experience. At the same time, I realize that while I’ve not lost a friend, I have lost a confidant.
ONE TRUE CHURCH AND A BELOVED TENOR?
In the last few months, the Pope made a statement that set the ecumenical movement back a few centuries when he proclaimed the Catholic Church as THE ONE TRUE CHURCH AND THE ONLY WAY TO SALVATION. He did not deny that other churches were legit – just that membership in them would not help you be “SAVED.” Oh brother!
The world watched recently as the great Luciano Pavarotti received a full CATHOLIC CEREMONY in a CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL. What was wrong with this picture?
The Maestro was married, 3 kids, etc. and had an affair with his young secretary, resulting in the birth of a beautiful daughter. This was followed by a divorce. A WHAT? A CATHOLIC GOT DIVORCED AND RE-MARRIED??????? Any other Catholic would have been kicked out of the “true church” for attempting the same. Never mind that it might have been a woman whose husband nearly killed her, and she had to leave him to save her life and the lives of her children. Nope. Marriage is a sacrament. Marriage is for life.
About the same time The Maestro was receiving a full Catholic burial, an unknown man lay dying in a hospital, being kept physically alive by machines. It was determined that doing so was cruel and futile. So he and his family elected to turn off life support. When they turned to the “true church” for solace and a proper Catholic burial, THEY WERE DENIED!
Before you get the wrong idea, I IDOLIZED PAVAROTTI AS ONE OF THE GREATEST TENORS IN HISTORY!!!! (I’m a singer, so I can back this statement up on a number of fronts.) I respected not only his great talent, but his compassion and love for music and love for life.
Why am I outraged?
The TRUE CHURCH is only true to those who are famous and/or fill the pockets of the clergy. Had Pavarotti been given the same treatment as any other divorced person, the pubic outcry against the “true church” would have been deafening. The “true church” could not allow him to have only a pubic civil burial. The “true church” had to have its moment in the spotlight.
Meanwhile, an unknown grieving family got the cold shoulder instead of solace and comfort.
SHAME ON YOU, ROME!
The world watched recently as the great Luciano Pavarotti received a full CATHOLIC CEREMONY in a CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL. What was wrong with this picture?
The Maestro was married, 3 kids, etc. and had an affair with his young secretary, resulting in the birth of a beautiful daughter. This was followed by a divorce. A WHAT? A CATHOLIC GOT DIVORCED AND RE-MARRIED??????? Any other Catholic would have been kicked out of the “true church” for attempting the same. Never mind that it might have been a woman whose husband nearly killed her, and she had to leave him to save her life and the lives of her children. Nope. Marriage is a sacrament. Marriage is for life.
About the same time The Maestro was receiving a full Catholic burial, an unknown man lay dying in a hospital, being kept physically alive by machines. It was determined that doing so was cruel and futile. So he and his family elected to turn off life support. When they turned to the “true church” for solace and a proper Catholic burial, THEY WERE DENIED!
Before you get the wrong idea, I IDOLIZED PAVAROTTI AS ONE OF THE GREATEST TENORS IN HISTORY!!!! (I’m a singer, so I can back this statement up on a number of fronts.) I respected not only his great talent, but his compassion and love for music and love for life.
Why am I outraged?
The TRUE CHURCH is only true to those who are famous and/or fill the pockets of the clergy. Had Pavarotti been given the same treatment as any other divorced person, the pubic outcry against the “true church” would have been deafening. The “true church” could not allow him to have only a pubic civil burial. The “true church” had to have its moment in the spotlight.
Meanwhile, an unknown grieving family got the cold shoulder instead of solace and comfort.
SHAME ON YOU, ROME!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Not the best day
The beloved and talented tenor, Jerry Hadley, died at 11:20 this morning, 2 days after being taken off of life support. According to the woman living with him, she found him with a gunshot wound to the head - from an air rifle. My sister, who is quite familiar with guns, being a markswoman, indicated that it's impossible to shoot oneself in the head with an air rifle. While all the investigations into the truth won't bring our beloved Jerry Hadley back, the truth needs to come out. A light has indeed gone out in the world, and those of us who were privileged to hear this wonderful man sing felt as if he were singing to each of us individually. His love of singing, his love of humanity came through his TV performances and his CD recordings.
He often teamed with the famed baritone Thomas Hampson, and their duets were legendary. Both gentleman possess good looks and good voices, and I used to call them Thomas HANDSOME and Jerry PRECIOUS.
A life snuffed out too soon. Jerry, may you be greeted with a choir of the world's finest as you journey to your final rest.
He often teamed with the famed baritone Thomas Hampson, and their duets were legendary. Both gentleman possess good looks and good voices, and I used to call them Thomas HANDSOME and Jerry PRECIOUS.
A life snuffed out too soon. Jerry, may you be greeted with a choir of the world's finest as you journey to your final rest.
Friday, July 13, 2007
WARNING: TO DOCTORS WHO CARE
This little news item just came to my attention:
http://www.comcast.net/news/national/index.jsp?cat=DOMESTIC&fn=/2007/07/13/713814.html&cvqh=itn_vapaindoctor
It seems that if a doctor prescribes enough medicine to relieve intractable pain, he's going to be accused of drug dealing. This is forcing more and more caring physicians to go against their SOUND MEDICAL JUDGMENT AND COMPASSION AND THE HYPOCRATIC OATH - not to mention THE PATIENT'S BILL OF RIGHTS - and treat the worst pain with an over-the-counter Tylenol!
Wake up, America! Wake up, Judicial System (a name I use with a great deal of reserve). Patients in pain are NOT drug-seeking addicts. They are people, who could be your mothers, daughters, sisters, fathers.....just ordinary people in your lives. They deserve quality of life - in other words, not spending 24 hours in crippling, disabling pain!
This latest bit of hysteria at the hands of the "Judicial (?) System is going to have more pain treatment centers throw away their prescription pads and compassion.
So, to what country do we have to travel to be relieved of pain? The US medical profession has turned its back on those who need us most because they're afraid of losing their country club memberships and yachts, only to end up in a jail cell.
This is a sad commentary on what USED to be a caring profession, one in which decisions were made between the doctor and patient - not an over zealous bunch of narcs!
http://www.comcast.net/news/national/index.jsp?cat=DOMESTIC&fn=/2007/07/13/713814.html&cvqh=itn_vapaindoctor
It seems that if a doctor prescribes enough medicine to relieve intractable pain, he's going to be accused of drug dealing. This is forcing more and more caring physicians to go against their SOUND MEDICAL JUDGMENT AND COMPASSION AND THE HYPOCRATIC OATH - not to mention THE PATIENT'S BILL OF RIGHTS - and treat the worst pain with an over-the-counter Tylenol!
Wake up, America! Wake up, Judicial System (a name I use with a great deal of reserve). Patients in pain are NOT drug-seeking addicts. They are people, who could be your mothers, daughters, sisters, fathers.....just ordinary people in your lives. They deserve quality of life - in other words, not spending 24 hours in crippling, disabling pain!
This latest bit of hysteria at the hands of the "Judicial (?) System is going to have more pain treatment centers throw away their prescription pads and compassion.
So, to what country do we have to travel to be relieved of pain? The US medical profession has turned its back on those who need us most because they're afraid of losing their country club memberships and yachts, only to end up in a jail cell.
This is a sad commentary on what USED to be a caring profession, one in which decisions were made between the doctor and patient - not an over zealous bunch of narcs!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Jerry Hadley
One of the Met's former idols is lying in a hospital bed with serious brain injury, on life support, with the decision to be made to remove him from life support as his injury is too severe, even as this is written, and it breaks my heart.
Discovered and promoted by the late Beverly Sills, Jerry Hadley's lovely lyric tenor voice, versatility for all types of roles and musical styles, and handsome matinee idol looks made him very much in demand. Leonard Bernstein himself chose Jerry Hadley for some his major production projects. The Met was quick to feature him when they needed a "Go-To" tenor. He and the baritone Thomas Hampson teamed up and were featured duetists on recordings and in recital. Jerry Hadley peformed everything from opera to musical theater and did it beautifuly.
What led to this horrible situation? Jerry Hadley's name has not been heard in quite some time - no new recordings, no TV appearances, etc. The news article states that he was filing for bankruptcy, was suffering from depression, and had one DUI dismissed. He was found by police in his bedroom with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
The glitter and fame in the music business are fickle. Sometimes a quickly rising star reaches its zenith too soon. Other times there is simply no explanation. One day the bank account is bulging. The next day you're wondering where the next paycheck is coming from. We will never know what led this gifted young man to take his own life.
Another bright light has gone out from the musical community.
Jerry, thank you for your lovely voice, your smile, for gracing the world with your presence.
Discovered and promoted by the late Beverly Sills, Jerry Hadley's lovely lyric tenor voice, versatility for all types of roles and musical styles, and handsome matinee idol looks made him very much in demand. Leonard Bernstein himself chose Jerry Hadley for some his major production projects. The Met was quick to feature him when they needed a "Go-To" tenor. He and the baritone Thomas Hampson teamed up and were featured duetists on recordings and in recital. Jerry Hadley peformed everything from opera to musical theater and did it beautifuly.
What led to this horrible situation? Jerry Hadley's name has not been heard in quite some time - no new recordings, no TV appearances, etc. The news article states that he was filing for bankruptcy, was suffering from depression, and had one DUI dismissed. He was found by police in his bedroom with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
The glitter and fame in the music business are fickle. Sometimes a quickly rising star reaches its zenith too soon. Other times there is simply no explanation. One day the bank account is bulging. The next day you're wondering where the next paycheck is coming from. We will never know what led this gifted young man to take his own life.
Another bright light has gone out from the musical community.
Jerry, thank you for your lovely voice, your smile, for gracing the world with your presence.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Not "True Church?"
Open mouth, insert foot. Thank you, Pope Benedict, for telling Christians that they are not "true church." This is akin Hitler telling certain Germans that they are not "true Germans." Sound familiar?
http://www.comcast.net/news/international/index.jsp?cat=INTERNATIONAL&fn=/2007/07/10/710968.html&cvqh=itn_pope
People wonder why I left "the church" period! I am not a Christian, but am proud to be a Wiccan. Everyone must find his/her own path. No one person has the entire truth, nor can a white-robed (hmmm....sound familiar?) gentleman living in palatial halls tell a person that HIS church is the only true church and the only path to salvation. Salvation from what? From a woman's right to decide her own destiny and follow her conscience where her body is concerned. Salvation from a child being taught ALL theories of creation?
The article says it all. Thinking people from all walks of life should be outraged at this pronouncement. I am stunned and outraged and will let it stop with just that statement.
http://www.comcast.net/news/international/index.jsp?cat=INTERNATIONAL&fn=/2007/07/10/710968.html&cvqh=itn_pope
People wonder why I left "the church" period! I am not a Christian, but am proud to be a Wiccan. Everyone must find his/her own path. No one person has the entire truth, nor can a white-robed (hmmm....sound familiar?) gentleman living in palatial halls tell a person that HIS church is the only true church and the only path to salvation. Salvation from what? From a woman's right to decide her own destiny and follow her conscience where her body is concerned. Salvation from a child being taught ALL theories of creation?
The article says it all. Thinking people from all walks of life should be outraged at this pronouncement. I am stunned and outraged and will let it stop with just that statement.
Every Woman (Maya Angelou)
Thanks to the friend who sent me this poem. Maya Angelou's poetry says it all:
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...something perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a youth she's content to leave behind....
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her old age....
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family..
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a feeling of control over her destiny...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to fall in love without losing herself..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without;
ruining the friendship...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. .
whom she can trust, whom she can't,and why she shouldn't take it personally...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
where to go...be it to her best friend's kitchen table... or a charming inn in the woods...when her soul needs soothing...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she can and can't accomplish in a day... a month...and a year...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...something perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a youth she's content to leave behind....
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her old age....
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family..
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored...
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a feeling of control over her destiny...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to fall in love without losing herself..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without;
ruining the friendship...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. .
whom she can trust, whom she can't,and why she shouldn't take it personally...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
where to go...be it to her best friend's kitchen table... or a charming inn in the woods...when her soul needs soothing...
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she can and can't accomplish in a day... a month...and a year...
Government, utilities, transportation, and lay-offs = ZERO
Maybe the recent events in the State of PA have been national news - and maybe not. But with the extent of partisan politics in this country, the sense of right and wrong and what is GOOD for the voters, those of us who actually got the politicos their jobs, well..... who cares about the voter?
Our esteemed Governor Rendell, former Mayor extraordinaire of Philadelphia, pulled a Corzine (Gov of NJ) dumb-ass move. In an attempt to get the kids of each party to set aside their own agendas and actually do some work on the overdue budget, Rendell stomped his foot and shut down what he termed "non-essential" state government services until the budget was agreed upon. So, people whose lives depend on every single day's pay were thrown out of work indefinitely while the fat cats in Harrisburg played tug of war with our lives. (Fortunately, they did reach a compromise, and our workers are back at work today, but their paychecks will be short a day's pay - major short-fall when one lives paycheck-to-paycheck. Who is going to make up the difference when the rent is due?)
One of the sticking points was a surcharge to our already overly inflated electric bills, allegedly to be used for alternative energy funding. Uh, excuse me, Governor Rendell. PECO (owned by Excelon Corporation) already charges outrageous rates for minimal usage. During the summer when people need their AC, some of them just to breathe, are hurt worst. If anything, you need to strong-arm PECO into REDUCING their rates! You should have addressed the Philadelphia-run (ineptly) gas company, known as PGW. They've admitted to having higher rates than necessary and have bragged about their right to keep them that way!
Now on to public transportation. SEPTA is the bus/train/subway service that is about as poorly managed as a mouse condo in a neighborhood of cats. Highest fares in the country, I'm told. $2 just to get on a bus, plus $0.60 for a transfer to a second bus. SEPTA deserves and needs state funding IF we are to encourage greater usage of pubic transportation and reduce usage of the SUV. SEPTA put a fare-hike in place today for weekly and monthly transpasses - from 11-20%, depending on the zone. Next month, they are eliminating transfers, so if it takes 2 buses to get to work, you will spend $4 on the trip - $8 a day for the privilege of waiting 45 minutes for a bus that is scheduled to run every 10-15 minutes. SEPTA has also decided that the $2 fare is no longer enough, and an increase is in sight. This is the company that has a strike every couple of years when contracts are up.
Governor Rendell and "esteemed" legislators: Why not address some of the real problems: Let the utility companies know that they are on notice about their rates. Let SEPTA know that you will fund them - provided they keep their fares affordable, eliminate the excess paid to upper management (private cars, etc...), and INCREASE service rather than decrease service.
You want to make money? Put some of it back into our hands. Hold utility companies and public transportation accountable. Better yet - get the municipal government out of the utility business. Allow competition for utilities AND public transportation. Guaranteed, service would get better and more quickly than one could read this blog!
Our esteemed Governor Rendell, former Mayor extraordinaire of Philadelphia, pulled a Corzine (Gov of NJ) dumb-ass move. In an attempt to get the kids of each party to set aside their own agendas and actually do some work on the overdue budget, Rendell stomped his foot and shut down what he termed "non-essential" state government services until the budget was agreed upon. So, people whose lives depend on every single day's pay were thrown out of work indefinitely while the fat cats in Harrisburg played tug of war with our lives. (Fortunately, they did reach a compromise, and our workers are back at work today, but their paychecks will be short a day's pay - major short-fall when one lives paycheck-to-paycheck. Who is going to make up the difference when the rent is due?)
One of the sticking points was a surcharge to our already overly inflated electric bills, allegedly to be used for alternative energy funding. Uh, excuse me, Governor Rendell. PECO (owned by Excelon Corporation) already charges outrageous rates for minimal usage. During the summer when people need their AC, some of them just to breathe, are hurt worst. If anything, you need to strong-arm PECO into REDUCING their rates! You should have addressed the Philadelphia-run (ineptly) gas company, known as PGW. They've admitted to having higher rates than necessary and have bragged about their right to keep them that way!
Now on to public transportation. SEPTA is the bus/train/subway service that is about as poorly managed as a mouse condo in a neighborhood of cats. Highest fares in the country, I'm told. $2 just to get on a bus, plus $0.60 for a transfer to a second bus. SEPTA deserves and needs state funding IF we are to encourage greater usage of pubic transportation and reduce usage of the SUV. SEPTA put a fare-hike in place today for weekly and monthly transpasses - from 11-20%, depending on the zone. Next month, they are eliminating transfers, so if it takes 2 buses to get to work, you will spend $4 on the trip - $8 a day for the privilege of waiting 45 minutes for a bus that is scheduled to run every 10-15 minutes. SEPTA has also decided that the $2 fare is no longer enough, and an increase is in sight. This is the company that has a strike every couple of years when contracts are up.
Governor Rendell and "esteemed" legislators: Why not address some of the real problems: Let the utility companies know that they are on notice about their rates. Let SEPTA know that you will fund them - provided they keep their fares affordable, eliminate the excess paid to upper management (private cars, etc...), and INCREASE service rather than decrease service.
You want to make money? Put some of it back into our hands. Hold utility companies and public transportation accountable. Better yet - get the municipal government out of the utility business. Allow competition for utilities AND public transportation. Guaranteed, service would get better and more quickly than one could read this blog!
Saturday, July 07, 2007
St. Francis of Philadelphia
His name was Francis, and he admitted to being about 90 years old. He constantly wore either his WWII cap or a Baltimore Orioles baseball cap (my home team). He lived up the street from me and was seen outside for walks or just to see who was passing by. I walked my dog past his house everyday, and he introduced himself to us as St. Francis because all animals loved him. He was right about that! My dog, Gwyn, would drag me to his front steps, hoping that he was outside. She promptly greeted him with kisses and a wildly wagging tail. St. Francis and I chatted about weather, and his love of bowling, or whatever. I worried over his being alone in that house, but he assured me he had his children and friends looking in on him and that he was warm enough in the winter and cool enough in the summer. All of a sudden, St. Francis was no longer outside to greet us. I wondered. Then I started to see trash bags outside once a week, along with crates of miscellaneous dishes and glasses. Finally I was able to find out that he had left this world and that his family had sold the house and was getting rid of what they did not want. Is this what was left of this gentle and kind man - bags of stuff at the curb? I looked through a box of glassware and found two lovely cordial glasses and a small glass dish, all of which I have a special use for. I brought them home and gave them a good cleaning until they sparkled. If his family had only told someone in the neighborhood, there would have been a parade of folks to pay their respects, including one red-headed little dog who misses his special touch. St. Francis, may you be surrounded by dogs and cats and people who like to bowl. We do miss you.
POPULAR HEALTH CARE
My sister lives in Charleston, South Carolina - home to gracious southern living, warm and friendly people, incredibly beautiful places to see, history, elegance, culture, great food, charm, a host of wonderful things. She is surrounded by friends who love her and is a major part of the life of Charleston.
She has one problem. She suffers from chronic pain from severe spinal damage.
Pain - a medical condition that robs one of all physical and psychological and emotional energy and ruins quality of life.
Pain - a medical condition that CAN BE HELPED IF the members of the so-called medical community would care more about their patients and less about their country club memberships!
Case in point. South Carolina has almost NO pain treatment centers. The one large center at MUSC will only take patients referred by MUSC doctors. Now, how does a patient gain entry into this secret society? My sister jumped through all of their hoops, obtained medical records from anyone who had even shaken hands with her, went through testing, went through six weeks of false hope, only to be told by an MUSC neurologist that surgery was not indicated and he could not help her - to go to the Pain Center. Uh..... that had been the whole purpose. Do you think this guy with a medical degree would refer her to the Pain Center, knowing that he was virtually the only one who could do so? A BIG FAT NO!!!! When I called on my sister's behalf (I've worked in medicine for a helluva long time, and I'm becoming ashamed of it), the person I contacted basically told me through my sister that I was not to call. Excuse me?
So, Sis, please don't get offended by this post, but this is a heads-up to people in SC or those contemplating a move: Check your medical condition first. If you have no pain, but have politically correct diseases that require no pain medications, then you will probably do okay. Otherwise, I'm sorry to say, if you are in pain, the medical community Charleston will turn its back on you.
She has one problem. She suffers from chronic pain from severe spinal damage.
Pain - a medical condition that robs one of all physical and psychological and emotional energy and ruins quality of life.
Pain - a medical condition that CAN BE HELPED IF the members of the so-called medical community would care more about their patients and less about their country club memberships!
Case in point. South Carolina has almost NO pain treatment centers. The one large center at MUSC will only take patients referred by MUSC doctors. Now, how does a patient gain entry into this secret society? My sister jumped through all of their hoops, obtained medical records from anyone who had even shaken hands with her, went through testing, went through six weeks of false hope, only to be told by an MUSC neurologist that surgery was not indicated and he could not help her - to go to the Pain Center. Uh..... that had been the whole purpose. Do you think this guy with a medical degree would refer her to the Pain Center, knowing that he was virtually the only one who could do so? A BIG FAT NO!!!! When I called on my sister's behalf (I've worked in medicine for a helluva long time, and I'm becoming ashamed of it), the person I contacted basically told me through my sister that I was not to call. Excuse me?
So, Sis, please don't get offended by this post, but this is a heads-up to people in SC or those contemplating a move: Check your medical condition first. If you have no pain, but have politically correct diseases that require no pain medications, then you will probably do okay. Otherwise, I'm sorry to say, if you are in pain, the medical community Charleston will turn its back on you.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Bubbles - a Tribute
The great American opera star, Beverly Sills, left his world last night, having been diagnosed only weeks before with lung cancer (she never smoked in her life).
She was called Bubbles first by the doctor who delivered her because she was born blowing a spit bubble. Who knew that this name would suit her so? She was a vibrant, exuberant, driven, intelligent, fun-loving red-head, who paved the way for numerous AMERICAN singers and helped dispel the false belief that only European born and/or trained singers were any good. She was home-grown and trained.
I grew up knowing who Bubbles was. She appeared on Ed Sullivan, on the Muppet Show, with Carol Burnett. She designed clothes for a brief time. She became a force to be reckoned with in the arts and in business. She worked for numerous charitable endeavors, mostly involving children.
Quite simply - she had a beautiful voice and a magnetic stage presence. This article says it best:
http://www.comcast.net/music/index.jsp?cat=MUSIC&fn=/2007/07/03/705525.html&cvqh=itn_sills
To quote from "Die Fledermaus:"
A toast, a toast...... we toast champagne!
Bubbles, here's to you and thank you.
She was called Bubbles first by the doctor who delivered her because she was born blowing a spit bubble. Who knew that this name would suit her so? She was a vibrant, exuberant, driven, intelligent, fun-loving red-head, who paved the way for numerous AMERICAN singers and helped dispel the false belief that only European born and/or trained singers were any good. She was home-grown and trained.
I grew up knowing who Bubbles was. She appeared on Ed Sullivan, on the Muppet Show, with Carol Burnett. She designed clothes for a brief time. She became a force to be reckoned with in the arts and in business. She worked for numerous charitable endeavors, mostly involving children.
Quite simply - she had a beautiful voice and a magnetic stage presence. This article says it best:
http://www.comcast.net/music/index.jsp?cat=MUSIC&fn=/2007/07/03/705525.html&cvqh=itn_sills
To quote from "Die Fledermaus:"
A toast, a toast...... we toast champagne!
Bubbles, here's to you and thank you.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Mr. Mayor, You have a phone call!
Guess everyone in the country heard the news about Mayor John Street of Philadelphia and his new I-Phone. On City taxpayers' time, this esteemed public servant (NOT!) waited in line during business hours to be among the first. With him were his executive assistant and a security team member so that if he had to leave, another one of our paid public servants could hold his place in line. When confronted by the news media and by CITIZENS (in other words, those dumb enough to vote for this known crooked hot-head), his reply was that it was okay for him to be there because he "worked long hours" and was buying this as a "management tool." He then had the nerve to say that he was working.
How many of us with real jobs were able to skip away from our work and camp out for an I-Phone - unless we had used an approved vacation or personal day? Better yet, how many of us with real jobs can afford the blasted things? Okay - enough said about the subject.
Which brings me to the mayoral race. Virtually EVERYONE in the city expressed the same sentiments: We don't want anyone elected who is already in City Hall. "Throw all the bums out." "Clean house." One such champion emerged. His only connection to city government had been during the previous administration under now Governor Rendell. This man was asked by Rendell to balance the budget with the aim of eliminating a monstrous deficit. He agreed to do the project at the phenomenal salary of $1.00 (ONE-DOLLAR) a year. Well, $1.50 later (18 months), we had a budget surplus!!!!!!!! New administration (Mayor I-Phone Street) later, and we're back to a deficit, and the only surplus we have now is the murder rate of at least one per day.
Who do you think won the Democratic primary? A 14-year City Council member! Way to go, Philly. Thinking with cheesesteak brains as usual.
That's all for the political soapbox today. Wonder if Michael Nutter stands in line on our time for the newest gadget when it comes out. Hmmm..... After all, the practice has been established. He can now quote precedent.
How many of us with real jobs were able to skip away from our work and camp out for an I-Phone - unless we had used an approved vacation or personal day? Better yet, how many of us with real jobs can afford the blasted things? Okay - enough said about the subject.
Which brings me to the mayoral race. Virtually EVERYONE in the city expressed the same sentiments: We don't want anyone elected who is already in City Hall. "Throw all the bums out." "Clean house." One such champion emerged. His only connection to city government had been during the previous administration under now Governor Rendell. This man was asked by Rendell to balance the budget with the aim of eliminating a monstrous deficit. He agreed to do the project at the phenomenal salary of $1.00 (ONE-DOLLAR) a year. Well, $1.50 later (18 months), we had a budget surplus!!!!!!!! New administration (Mayor I-Phone Street) later, and we're back to a deficit, and the only surplus we have now is the murder rate of at least one per day.
Who do you think won the Democratic primary? A 14-year City Council member! Way to go, Philly. Thinking with cheesesteak brains as usual.
That's all for the political soapbox today. Wonder if Michael Nutter stands in line on our time for the newest gadget when it comes out. Hmmm..... After all, the practice has been established. He can now quote precedent.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Michael Moore IS sicko.
My best friend wants to see "Sicko," and she wants me to go with her because her husband, who is a doctor, probably won't want to see it.
Michael Moore (who brought you Fahrenheit 9/11, just what we needed - NOT) was interviewed the other evening, and he started spilling all these medical horror stories, courtesy of the insurance companies.
Yes, our health care system is one of the worst in the world when it comes to having gum-chewing clerks and computer programs determine what kind of care we need. It doesn't speak well when an HMO refuses to pay for an ambulance from a motor vehicle accident which left the patient unconscious for several hours because the service was not pre-authorized.
But, Mr. Moore, do you have to CRAM your one-sided views down our throats? Virtually every one of us lives with this problem everyday. Some people have no insurance. Others have to deal with HMOs or Disability or Medical Assistance. And guess what, people like my friends husband and I, who WORK in medicine, don't need to be reminded of what we deal with on a routine basis.
When I go to a movie, I want to be entertained, or I want to learn something, or I want to have my brain challenged - not be reminded of what I already know and see every single day.
Mr. Moore, your movie will not fix a problem. It will create more anger and more frustration and a greater sense of helplessness. Guess what, Mr. Moore - If you're not part of the solution, you know where you fit in.
Michael Moore (who brought you Fahrenheit 9/11, just what we needed - NOT) was interviewed the other evening, and he started spilling all these medical horror stories, courtesy of the insurance companies.
Yes, our health care system is one of the worst in the world when it comes to having gum-chewing clerks and computer programs determine what kind of care we need. It doesn't speak well when an HMO refuses to pay for an ambulance from a motor vehicle accident which left the patient unconscious for several hours because the service was not pre-authorized.
But, Mr. Moore, do you have to CRAM your one-sided views down our throats? Virtually every one of us lives with this problem everyday. Some people have no insurance. Others have to deal with HMOs or Disability or Medical Assistance. And guess what, people like my friends husband and I, who WORK in medicine, don't need to be reminded of what we deal with on a routine basis.
When I go to a movie, I want to be entertained, or I want to learn something, or I want to have my brain challenged - not be reminded of what I already know and see every single day.
Mr. Moore, your movie will not fix a problem. It will create more anger and more frustration and a greater sense of helplessness. Guess what, Mr. Moore - If you're not part of the solution, you know where you fit in.
Shopping and a DVD
First, when I don't post for a while, I get a case of verbal diarrhea and can't stop blogging. My apologies to those who stumble on my blogs from today.
I had to go to an outlet store to purchase some "unmentionables." Hey - necessity of life, and they're not life-long wearing. Back to the subject. I was browsing in the plus-size section and happened to encounter a mom buying a sixth-grade graduation dress for her daughter. Both mom and daughter were plus-size, and the 12-year-old was feeling really depressed because of the selection of clothing. Having a BIG mouth to match my equally BIG rear and mid section, I started a conversation with them and aimed it toward this 12-year-old. "I already tried that dress on a few weeks ago, in all three sizes, and they all fit the same. So, if a dress doesn't fit, the problem is with the dress and not YOU." Her grateful mom said the same thing. So we made conversation and browsed clothing racks. Everytime this young lady would say, "But that looks old," her mother or I would find something younger and fresher. She was finally ushered to the fitting room with easily 20 pieces of clothing - dresses, two-piece sets, and some really cute tops and skirts. She kept saying, "I hope something fits me." I didn't have time to stay for the entire trying-on, nor did I feel it my place. But I did get to see this lovely young lady emerge from the fitting room in outfit #1, a top and skirt that were right in style (very important to a young person) and fit her as well as anything would. She loved the outfit, and she looked pretty. Her mom and I made a huge fuss over her. She went back to try on outfit #2, and I talked to the mom (also a plus-size woman) one-on-one for a minute. I congratulated her on her daughter's achievement and on what a pleasure it was to meet her and her daughter and two sons. I suggested that all the outfit needed was a necklace with some color, and she would be stunning. We also discussed body image and finding clothes. My last remark to the little girl was, "Walk proud, young lady. You are an intelligent, lovely girl. No one can take that away from you."
Now, onto the DVD. My best friend and I did a concert a couple weeks ago at a very sophisticated retirement community. They record their performances on DVD for closed-circuit broadcast to residents who choose not to go to the auditorium. They can watch the performance on TV! I got my DVD yesterday, and my first comment was, "Who the hell is that fat woman singing with my best friend?" Uh.....it was me. Oh shit! After losing 65 pounds and starving myself to fit into a Renaissance costume so that I could remain in that ensemble, I've put back on at least 30 pounds.
After a few minutes of camera-shock, a few things came to mind. First, the camera DOES add weight. The angle adds weight. When I turned and faced a different direction, the view was definitely better. I got through watching and listening to the rest and decided my problem wasn't me - it was the outfit! It was too clingy. Easy solution - get rid of that outfit, no matter how pretty a shade of blue it is and wear something in a different material, with a different cut.
Like I told the 12-year-old, if a dress doesn't fit, it's not YOU - it's the dress.
No, I'm not going on a crash diet or switching over to salads and Slim-Fast. I'm going to eat as sensibly as possible, make sure that I'm not getting too much refined sugar, and enjoy life and enjoy food. Size is a number. A person's appearance is a matter of perception. Hey - it is really smoke and mirrors!
I had to go to an outlet store to purchase some "unmentionables." Hey - necessity of life, and they're not life-long wearing. Back to the subject. I was browsing in the plus-size section and happened to encounter a mom buying a sixth-grade graduation dress for her daughter. Both mom and daughter were plus-size, and the 12-year-old was feeling really depressed because of the selection of clothing. Having a BIG mouth to match my equally BIG rear and mid section, I started a conversation with them and aimed it toward this 12-year-old. "I already tried that dress on a few weeks ago, in all three sizes, and they all fit the same. So, if a dress doesn't fit, the problem is with the dress and not YOU." Her grateful mom said the same thing. So we made conversation and browsed clothing racks. Everytime this young lady would say, "But that looks old," her mother or I would find something younger and fresher. She was finally ushered to the fitting room with easily 20 pieces of clothing - dresses, two-piece sets, and some really cute tops and skirts. She kept saying, "I hope something fits me." I didn't have time to stay for the entire trying-on, nor did I feel it my place. But I did get to see this lovely young lady emerge from the fitting room in outfit #1, a top and skirt that were right in style (very important to a young person) and fit her as well as anything would. She loved the outfit, and she looked pretty. Her mom and I made a huge fuss over her. She went back to try on outfit #2, and I talked to the mom (also a plus-size woman) one-on-one for a minute. I congratulated her on her daughter's achievement and on what a pleasure it was to meet her and her daughter and two sons. I suggested that all the outfit needed was a necklace with some color, and she would be stunning. We also discussed body image and finding clothes. My last remark to the little girl was, "Walk proud, young lady. You are an intelligent, lovely girl. No one can take that away from you."
Now, onto the DVD. My best friend and I did a concert a couple weeks ago at a very sophisticated retirement community. They record their performances on DVD for closed-circuit broadcast to residents who choose not to go to the auditorium. They can watch the performance on TV! I got my DVD yesterday, and my first comment was, "Who the hell is that fat woman singing with my best friend?" Uh.....it was me. Oh shit! After losing 65 pounds and starving myself to fit into a Renaissance costume so that I could remain in that ensemble, I've put back on at least 30 pounds.
After a few minutes of camera-shock, a few things came to mind. First, the camera DOES add weight. The angle adds weight. When I turned and faced a different direction, the view was definitely better. I got through watching and listening to the rest and decided my problem wasn't me - it was the outfit! It was too clingy. Easy solution - get rid of that outfit, no matter how pretty a shade of blue it is and wear something in a different material, with a different cut.
Like I told the 12-year-old, if a dress doesn't fit, it's not YOU - it's the dress.
No, I'm not going on a crash diet or switching over to salads and Slim-Fast. I'm going to eat as sensibly as possible, make sure that I'm not getting too much refined sugar, and enjoy life and enjoy food. Size is a number. A person's appearance is a matter of perception. Hey - it is really smoke and mirrors!
Manners? Self-respect?
Yesterday, my best friend and I attended a matinee of "Side by Side by Sondheim," a well-crafted, beautifully performed cabaret of Sondheim's music. This is not easy to sing! There were 4 singers and 2 pianists, and the theater had been re-vamped so that the audience was virtually on the stage. LOVED IT! Kudos to the artists of the Walnut Street Theater in Philadelphia, who sang and danced and acted their way into my heart.
THEY DESERVED A BETTER AUDIENCE!!!!!!!!
Philadelphia added a new definition to the term "Ignorant Slob." Okay - a matinee does not call for the glitter of an evening performance, but it certainly calls for a certain level of dress. Easily one-half of the audience wore shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers!!!!!! Where were they going, the bowling alley? They were dressed worse than actors dress for rehearsal. Now for the kicker - these were ADULTS, many over 40. Out of the 100 or so people in this intimate cabaret setting audience, maybe 10 of us were in dresses or skirts.
Have people gotten so casual and so disrespectful of themselves and others that they want to be seen as slobs? What an insult to the actors to perform to a bunch of shorts and t-shirts!
Philadelphia was not hot yesterday, actually quite comfortable, so the weather is no excuse. This is not a famous musical like "Carousel," which was performed downstairs on the main stage of this theater. So, one would assume that people who are acquainted with Sondheim, especially this production which virtually has no set and absolutely NO special effects, would be slightly better-bred - not rich and famous, but just a bit more versed in common decency and manners. It does not require money to know when shorts are appropriate. It does not require money to present oneself with dignity. A comfortable, but presentable pants-suit for the women would be fine. There are numerous casual options that look dressy enough for a matinee - and they don't cost much.
Guess my best friend and I - and the other 8 ladies violated the official Philadelphia dress code - "THE BIGGEST SLOB WINS."
THEY DESERVED A BETTER AUDIENCE!!!!!!!!
Philadelphia added a new definition to the term "Ignorant Slob." Okay - a matinee does not call for the glitter of an evening performance, but it certainly calls for a certain level of dress. Easily one-half of the audience wore shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers!!!!!! Where were they going, the bowling alley? They were dressed worse than actors dress for rehearsal. Now for the kicker - these were ADULTS, many over 40. Out of the 100 or so people in this intimate cabaret setting audience, maybe 10 of us were in dresses or skirts.
Have people gotten so casual and so disrespectful of themselves and others that they want to be seen as slobs? What an insult to the actors to perform to a bunch of shorts and t-shirts!
Philadelphia was not hot yesterday, actually quite comfortable, so the weather is no excuse. This is not a famous musical like "Carousel," which was performed downstairs on the main stage of this theater. So, one would assume that people who are acquainted with Sondheim, especially this production which virtually has no set and absolutely NO special effects, would be slightly better-bred - not rich and famous, but just a bit more versed in common decency and manners. It does not require money to know when shorts are appropriate. It does not require money to present oneself with dignity. A comfortable, but presentable pants-suit for the women would be fine. There are numerous casual options that look dressy enough for a matinee - and they don't cost much.
Guess my best friend and I - and the other 8 ladies violated the official Philadelphia dress code - "THE BIGGEST SLOB WINS."
Friday, May 04, 2007
A lesson learned....
Today I learned a lesson. It was nothing that I read, and it was not in the form of a lecture or sermon. Instead it was in the quiet thoughts of my sister, far wiser than I, yet younger. She has lived through more than most women and has survived. So, this blog is dedicated to Lady Saphyre with great love and a very large serving of humble pie.
Forgiveness. Easy word to spell. Easy word to say. Difficult, though, to give, but nearly impossible to ask, especially when one needs to ask it from someone whom we feel has wronged us. In giving and receiving forgiveness, a priceless gift is exchanged – peace of mind, serenity, and after the remorseful feeling comes a quiet inner strength that is not puffed up with pride because of doing the right thing, but because we did what is required.
Does all this philosophical meandering make sense? The person in question and I may never be in contact again, but in my mind and heart, I know that peace has been made all because of a very quiet thought shared with me by my sister. Thank you, Lady Saphyre.
Forgiveness. Easy word to spell. Easy word to say. Difficult, though, to give, but nearly impossible to ask, especially when one needs to ask it from someone whom we feel has wronged us. In giving and receiving forgiveness, a priceless gift is exchanged – peace of mind, serenity, and after the remorseful feeling comes a quiet inner strength that is not puffed up with pride because of doing the right thing, but because we did what is required.
Does all this philosophical meandering make sense? The person in question and I may never be in contact again, but in my mind and heart, I know that peace has been made all because of a very quiet thought shared with me by my sister. Thank you, Lady Saphyre.
How green is the grass over here?
This has been mulling around in my head for some time now. Since the computer system at work is down, no time like the present to write.
Single versus married – the debate rages on. Is the grass always truly green on the other side of the fence? Well, let’s see.
I’ll start with the topic I know best – me! I’m single. That means no demands for cooking dinner, ironing shirts, making plans to suit my mate, etc. It’s definitely an “I” existence. I choose, I do, I go, etc….. Some of my married friends say, “Gee, you’re lucky you’re single.” “You can do anything you want.” And get this one: “YOU HAVE NO RESPONSIBILITIES.”
STOP RIGHT THERE!!!!
What about rent, utilities, medical bills, vet bills, groceries, transportation, taking care of my apartment (I’m NOT Susie Homemaker), etc…. What happens if I get sick? Who walks the dog if I can’t? There’s no such thing as “I can’t.”
Not all of my married friends have life so easy. Most of my married friends have the same issues with money as I – never enough. No investments, etc. We have the same bills and money woes every month and live paycheck to paycheck. Yet somehow, these are the married friends who never say, “You’re so lucky to be single.”
For some reason, I ended up single. It was not a deliberate choice. It just turned out that way. For years I thought of myself as “the one not chosen.” Then it occurred to me, why should I have to be chosen? Why don’t I choose? Yes, it would be lovely to have a spouse who held a good job so that I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to work. It would be wonderful to have someone who would look after me a little bit. But is that what I really want or even need? I like my independence and intend to live it as long as I’m able. Aside from the companionship of a true soul-mate, nothing is missing in my life, and if my soul-mate is searching for me, we will find each other.
There’s no answer to this debate – each side has merits and de-merits. No one way is better than the other – just different.
So, to my married and single friends, the grass is the same color on both sides of the fence. We just have to tend the our own gardens.
Single versus married – the debate rages on. Is the grass always truly green on the other side of the fence? Well, let’s see.
I’ll start with the topic I know best – me! I’m single. That means no demands for cooking dinner, ironing shirts, making plans to suit my mate, etc. It’s definitely an “I” existence. I choose, I do, I go, etc….. Some of my married friends say, “Gee, you’re lucky you’re single.” “You can do anything you want.” And get this one: “YOU HAVE NO RESPONSIBILITIES.”
STOP RIGHT THERE!!!!
What about rent, utilities, medical bills, vet bills, groceries, transportation, taking care of my apartment (I’m NOT Susie Homemaker), etc…. What happens if I get sick? Who walks the dog if I can’t? There’s no such thing as “I can’t.”
Not all of my married friends have life so easy. Most of my married friends have the same issues with money as I – never enough. No investments, etc. We have the same bills and money woes every month and live paycheck to paycheck. Yet somehow, these are the married friends who never say, “You’re so lucky to be single.”
For some reason, I ended up single. It was not a deliberate choice. It just turned out that way. For years I thought of myself as “the one not chosen.” Then it occurred to me, why should I have to be chosen? Why don’t I choose? Yes, it would be lovely to have a spouse who held a good job so that I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to work. It would be wonderful to have someone who would look after me a little bit. But is that what I really want or even need? I like my independence and intend to live it as long as I’m able. Aside from the companionship of a true soul-mate, nothing is missing in my life, and if my soul-mate is searching for me, we will find each other.
There’s no answer to this debate – each side has merits and de-merits. No one way is better than the other – just different.
So, to my married and single friends, the grass is the same color on both sides of the fence. We just have to tend the our own gardens.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
WHY DO YOU OWN A DOG?
Why do you own a dog?
Okay, why does someone own a LARGE dog that tends toward aggression and then leave the front door to the house unlocked so that the dog can push its way outside and harm itself and anyone passing by?
Welcome to South Philadelphia, home of cheesesteaks, an over-population of large, aggressive dogs, and people completely lacking in common sense.
I was walking my 30-pound corgi/sheltie mix. She stopped to bark at the Yorkie in the window (one of her “boyfriends”). We made it 2 houses more when a large dog (part Rottweiler, a breed I happen to love) barked, growled, and got half-way out the door. I yelled for its owner to come, and she promptly accused my dog of deliberately egging her dog on. This illustrates item #3 above (lack of common sense), and I’m being polite here. Let’s just revise that to say a combination of ignorance and stupidity all rolled into one with a side of fries! Did I leave out the part about the woman telling me that I walk my dog past her house everyday deliberately and make her dog bark?
Common sense and common decency demand that you lock your door, if only to keep your dog from running out into a busy street. Then we can add to the equation, to keep your dog from running out and attacking another dog, or to keep your dog from being stolen.
Gwyn is not perfect – she’s made up of two herding breeds. She’s an alpha dog, who responds to the sense of aggression by barking. Vicious? Yeah, right, a dog who rides about 6 inches from the ground on a good day?
Folks, please look after your pets. It’s your responsibility to protect them, to know where they are at all times, to keep them from harm, and to keep them from causing harm. Sadly, the very people who should read this probably will not, but at least it was said.
Okay, why does someone own a LARGE dog that tends toward aggression and then leave the front door to the house unlocked so that the dog can push its way outside and harm itself and anyone passing by?
Welcome to South Philadelphia, home of cheesesteaks, an over-population of large, aggressive dogs, and people completely lacking in common sense.
I was walking my 30-pound corgi/sheltie mix. She stopped to bark at the Yorkie in the window (one of her “boyfriends”). We made it 2 houses more when a large dog (part Rottweiler, a breed I happen to love) barked, growled, and got half-way out the door. I yelled for its owner to come, and she promptly accused my dog of deliberately egging her dog on. This illustrates item #3 above (lack of common sense), and I’m being polite here. Let’s just revise that to say a combination of ignorance and stupidity all rolled into one with a side of fries! Did I leave out the part about the woman telling me that I walk my dog past her house everyday deliberately and make her dog bark?
Common sense and common decency demand that you lock your door, if only to keep your dog from running out into a busy street. Then we can add to the equation, to keep your dog from running out and attacking another dog, or to keep your dog from being stolen.
Gwyn is not perfect – she’s made up of two herding breeds. She’s an alpha dog, who responds to the sense of aggression by barking. Vicious? Yeah, right, a dog who rides about 6 inches from the ground on a good day?
Folks, please look after your pets. It’s your responsibility to protect them, to know where they are at all times, to keep them from harm, and to keep them from causing harm. Sadly, the very people who should read this probably will not, but at least it was said.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Come on, girls!
Come on, girls!
I just got an e-mail from someone who told me that she was “too big to wear pretty things anymore” because she’s outgrown her size 1X. This is a sad statement, one that nearly reduced me to tears because here is a lady in pain. I fired back an e-mail that there’s no such thing as “too big to wear pretty things” because that’s simply the truth. I’ll say this again – SIZE IS ONLY A NUMBER!!!!!!!
Take a look at some of our larger-than-life celebs: Mo’nique, Queen Latifah, Jennifer Hudson, Aretha Franklin, Pearl Bailey, Rosemary Clooney, Barbara Cook, Camryn Manheim etc…. We’re talking about a serious list of talent and beauty and self-acceptance. Walk into a Lane Bryant store and take a look at some of the sales associates who proudly wear 2X and 3X and look amazing.
I was at the bank the other day, and one of the management team walked by. She was tall, walked with a regal stance, and was wearing a pink twin-set and ivory slacks. My guess, given my own size of 1X, was that she was easily a 2X. She moved with such poise and assurance and was stunning. (BTW: I own the same twin-set in a different color). This lady was wearing the outfit – not the other way around! Being a big mouth, I had to stop her and tell her how stunning she looked and had to know where she had gotten the outfit, forgetting that I owned the same twin-set in brown, and she was wearing it in a rose color.
So, come on, girls. There’s no such thing as “too big to wear pretty things.” No matter what size, we deserve to wear pretty things, to celebrate who we are as women, not to wail and weep over our size.
As for the person who sent me the e-mail, I hope she reads this because this one’s for her.
I just got an e-mail from someone who told me that she was “too big to wear pretty things anymore” because she’s outgrown her size 1X. This is a sad statement, one that nearly reduced me to tears because here is a lady in pain. I fired back an e-mail that there’s no such thing as “too big to wear pretty things” because that’s simply the truth. I’ll say this again – SIZE IS ONLY A NUMBER!!!!!!!
Take a look at some of our larger-than-life celebs: Mo’nique, Queen Latifah, Jennifer Hudson, Aretha Franklin, Pearl Bailey, Rosemary Clooney, Barbara Cook, Camryn Manheim etc…. We’re talking about a serious list of talent and beauty and self-acceptance. Walk into a Lane Bryant store and take a look at some of the sales associates who proudly wear 2X and 3X and look amazing.
I was at the bank the other day, and one of the management team walked by. She was tall, walked with a regal stance, and was wearing a pink twin-set and ivory slacks. My guess, given my own size of 1X, was that she was easily a 2X. She moved with such poise and assurance and was stunning. (BTW: I own the same twin-set in a different color). This lady was wearing the outfit – not the other way around! Being a big mouth, I had to stop her and tell her how stunning she looked and had to know where she had gotten the outfit, forgetting that I owned the same twin-set in brown, and she was wearing it in a rose color.
So, come on, girls. There’s no such thing as “too big to wear pretty things.” No matter what size, we deserve to wear pretty things, to celebrate who we are as women, not to wail and weep over our size.
As for the person who sent me the e-mail, I hope she reads this because this one’s for her.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
JOHNNY CAN NEITHER READ NOR WRITE!
Johnny is the one hired to write instruction manuals for electronics or assembly instructions from everything to bookshelves to vacuum cleaners. We don’t know where Johnny went to school because his/her knowledge of English is suspect. Johnny can’t write an intelligible sentence, but I’ll bet he can use his scientific calculator to do equations (e.g., 2 + 2 =).
Why am I angry with Johnny? I just bought a DVD player. The hook-up was self-explanatory – just match the colors on the cables with the same colors on the TV. Plug into the electrical outlet. Put batteries into the remote. Turn on TV and DVD player. Insert disk. Press play. OOPS….. Uh….. Lights are on, but no movie. Read manual. After pages and pages of pure nonsense and convoluted verbiage, I was no closer to finding the answer. I called the customer service people, who were stuck reading from a script that asked at least 20 DUMB questions. Two people put their brains together and told me to go through each channel until I saw the DVD logo appear on my TV screen. One clearly written sentence was all the manual needed, and Johnny could not write it.
Back in the Dark Ages when I was in elementary school, READING was given the strongest emphasis. If one could read, then one could master virtually any other subject taught. This was followed by extensive vocabulary and spelling drills. Of course we learned math and science. But before we could attempt those subjects, we needed some reading comprehension. We were taught to write complete sentences that ended with punctuation – not the run-on sentences that even young doctors of today use. What’s a semi-colon? What’s a comma? What’s a compound sentence? And since when did the pleural of him become “they?”
Over the past years, government has decided it knows best what Johnny needs to learn. Math and science are much more important than reading, especially because reading means delving into the great works of literature (Shakespeare, for one) and maybe reading something politically incorrect or offensive to the conservative right. The government has decided that Johnny really does not need to study music to develop even an appreciation for the great masters such as Bach and Beethoven – dead white European men who have no relevance for today. Please don’t give Johnny a set of pastels and ask him to draw. No, the government will continue to push math and science and politically correct “multicultural studies” to the detriment of Johnny’s soul and his innate need to create and express.
No matter what else, please don’t allow Johnny to become creative and to write! After all, Johnny may one day write an instruction manual that we all can read!
Why am I angry with Johnny? I just bought a DVD player. The hook-up was self-explanatory – just match the colors on the cables with the same colors on the TV. Plug into the electrical outlet. Put batteries into the remote. Turn on TV and DVD player. Insert disk. Press play. OOPS….. Uh….. Lights are on, but no movie. Read manual. After pages and pages of pure nonsense and convoluted verbiage, I was no closer to finding the answer. I called the customer service people, who were stuck reading from a script that asked at least 20 DUMB questions. Two people put their brains together and told me to go through each channel until I saw the DVD logo appear on my TV screen. One clearly written sentence was all the manual needed, and Johnny could not write it.
Back in the Dark Ages when I was in elementary school, READING was given the strongest emphasis. If one could read, then one could master virtually any other subject taught. This was followed by extensive vocabulary and spelling drills. Of course we learned math and science. But before we could attempt those subjects, we needed some reading comprehension. We were taught to write complete sentences that ended with punctuation – not the run-on sentences that even young doctors of today use. What’s a semi-colon? What’s a comma? What’s a compound sentence? And since when did the pleural of him become “they?”
Over the past years, government has decided it knows best what Johnny needs to learn. Math and science are much more important than reading, especially because reading means delving into the great works of literature (Shakespeare, for one) and maybe reading something politically incorrect or offensive to the conservative right. The government has decided that Johnny really does not need to study music to develop even an appreciation for the great masters such as Bach and Beethoven – dead white European men who have no relevance for today. Please don’t give Johnny a set of pastels and ask him to draw. No, the government will continue to push math and science and politically correct “multicultural studies” to the detriment of Johnny’s soul and his innate need to create and express.
No matter what else, please don’t allow Johnny to become creative and to write! After all, Johnny may one day write an instruction manual that we all can read!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
The Quiet Legend
This weekend, I had a twice-in-a-lifetime experience – my second time attending a concert given by the Grand Dame of Broadway – Barbara Cook. Now considered the Dowager Empress of the Stage, Ms. Cook is a modest 75 years old. Her once lyric coloratura soprano has lowered and deepened and is now replaced by a silky, warm sound. (By the way, her high notes are still damned good!) Her slim, glamorous figure has blossomed into the full figure of womanhood. No flash and dash and gimmicks – just the quiet artistry and graceful presence that captured a concert hall of 2500 people so that there was not a breath heard when she sang. Her voice simply found the natural flow of air around her and went for a ride. Yes, she was definitely bewitching! Oh, yes – she did indeed perform, especially when singing jazz. But her shining moment was the ballad she sang as an encore – without the microphone. Her beautiful voice and her soul reached all the way back and up to the top-most tier. This was a lesson in performance.
Ms. Cook shared the stage with the young and quite gorgeous Audra MacDonald, whose credits not only include Broadway, but appearances on TV’s West Wing. Ms. MacDonald is blessed with youth, beauty, and a HUGE voice and lots of personality. She graciously shared with the audience that being on stage was akin to getting a lesson in what it’s all about. Her style is the exact opposite of Ms. Cook, yet when they sang duets, their blend was one voice. Extraordinary experience.
It simply boiled down to one person willing to share her vast knowledge and experience and the other person checking any ego at the door (I don’t think Audra has an ego) and allowing herself to be guided by the muse.
There are simply no words to describe this experience. On one side, THE Barbara Cook, full-figured, 75 years old, and looking and sounding stunning. On the other side, THE Audra MacDonald, trim, 30-something, and sounding stunning. There was no competition – just two artists who were there to entertain and share themselves with 2500 close friends. They turned a huge concert hall into an intimate salon.
Experiences such as this do not come along very often, and I am grateful that I was able to be a part of it.
So, this is my blog on Ostara, the time to celebrate balance, the time when day and night are equal, when what we have learned and nurtured this winter now starts to blossom. Barbara and Audra – two opposites in perfect balance.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
IPOD WARNING!
IPOD WARNING – BROKEN NECK….
Yup…. So, here’s the math teacher in the Philadelphia Public School System, 30 years of perfect attendance, popular with the students (or at least as popular as a teacher can be with students in the famous North Philadelphia area). He has the nerve to take an IPOD from a student during class. Heavens! You mean the dude can’t listen to his tunes in math class? This punk has to learn how to add and subtract? (It’s high school – algebra is still a foreign concept – Philly kids are still learning about Dick and Jane and 1+1). Class ends. The IPOD punk and one of his buddies tackle this teacher, throw him to the ground and break his neck, and start beating him. Well, they got caught, and their own classmates helped identify them! (Now, here’s a new concept.) The City of Philadelphia is trying to decide whether or not to try them as adults. Hellooooo!!!!!!!!!
The teacher is in ICU at a local hospital. Even with a broken neck, he was spared paralysis. He called the school principal, asked someone to lock up his classroom for the weekend and said he’d be back as quickly as possible, joking that his perfect attendance record was ruined.
As for the punks? Let them serve some hard time – 16 hours a day mixed with hard labor and school. Return them to a cell – no IPODS please – so they can sleep and wake up to another 16-hour day. Oh – lest I be termed cruel or politically incorrect, any money they make is to be handed over to a victim’s fund. When are adults going to teach their children that violence is not useless, but that it’s just plain wrong? Perhaps they’ll teach it when they learn the lesson for themselves?
Yup…. So, here’s the math teacher in the Philadelphia Public School System, 30 years of perfect attendance, popular with the students (or at least as popular as a teacher can be with students in the famous North Philadelphia area). He has the nerve to take an IPOD from a student during class. Heavens! You mean the dude can’t listen to his tunes in math class? This punk has to learn how to add and subtract? (It’s high school – algebra is still a foreign concept – Philly kids are still learning about Dick and Jane and 1+1). Class ends. The IPOD punk and one of his buddies tackle this teacher, throw him to the ground and break his neck, and start beating him. Well, they got caught, and their own classmates helped identify them! (Now, here’s a new concept.) The City of Philadelphia is trying to decide whether or not to try them as adults. Hellooooo!!!!!!!!!
The teacher is in ICU at a local hospital. Even with a broken neck, he was spared paralysis. He called the school principal, asked someone to lock up his classroom for the weekend and said he’d be back as quickly as possible, joking that his perfect attendance record was ruined.
As for the punks? Let them serve some hard time – 16 hours a day mixed with hard labor and school. Return them to a cell – no IPODS please – so they can sleep and wake up to another 16-hour day. Oh – lest I be termed cruel or politically incorrect, any money they make is to be handed over to a victim’s fund. When are adults going to teach their children that violence is not useless, but that it’s just plain wrong? Perhaps they’ll teach it when they learn the lesson for themselves?
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
It's my body....
It’s my body, and I’ll sell if I want to,
Eat if I want to,
Dress like I want to…..
Thanks, Lesley Gore, for the inspiration for the title!
There’s a wonderful daytime actress (Susan Flannery), who has been in the business for YEARS! She has played glamorous roles on Dallas, is on a very popular daytime drama (okay, “soap opera”), has directed, and is a veteran in her craft. She went from being the typical skinny glamour type to the full-figured, strong, independent, fiercely protective, and no-nonsense matriarch of a very powerful family in the FASHION business on this particular soap. Her once long, thick hair is now quite short, thin, and very white. Her once single-digit dress size has now changed to plus-size pants suits. A friend recently made a comment about how Susan had gained all that weight and would look better thinner. I whirled my 1X figure around and said, “Is she still a good actress? Can she still play the role? Has her size affected her dramatic ability in any way?” “Uh…no,” was the response.
As a matter of fact, the show celebrated episode 5000 last week, and the writers showed the full extent of their love and respect for their cast member. They wrote a STEAMY script for her – involving a wonderful love scene with her long-time hubby. When she asked him if he wished that she were 30 pounds thinner, he replied, “A waist is a terrible thing to mind.”
So, let’s hear a RIGHT ON for the Bold and the Beautiful (my 30-minute lunchtime escape from the world of medicine).
Now, on to Tyra Banks. A tabloid recently took a picture of her during a swimsuit photo shoot in Australia and then doctored it up to make her look VERY full-figured – cellulite and all. She appeared on her show – in the same swimsuit, curves and normal woman weight (not like a model) and showed the original photo in its untouched form and poked fun at the tabloid photo. She then went on to tell her viewers that anyone who puts someone else down because of appearance or any other reason can, “KISS MY FAT ASS!!!!!!” Hooray, Tyra!!!!!!
However…..She did a segment last night on the Bunny Ranch in Nevada – a legal brothel. She started the show off with a sermon against prostitution and how she wanted to show what “really” went on. Cameramen were allowed in the ranch. The owner, the madam, and several others were on the show. Where am I leading? If a woman is of the personality that she wants to sell her body, why should it be illegal or bad or anything else? It’s no one else’s business. These ladies live safely on the ranch and have to conform to some pretty strict rules, especially where health is concerned. These women have real goals – financial security, investments, the ability to retire in comfort. Sound familiar? They’re not at the mercy of a company who will pull the plug on a pension plan just when you’re about to need it. They’ve got their own investment portfolios! Come to think of it, they go to work and have to listen to the boss and do their work for pay just the way the rest of us do. Think about it…….
Back to Tyra. She heads up an empire, including the reality show, America’s Next Top Model. Uh, Tyra, isn’t modeling putting your body up for sale? So, before you criticize the folks in Nevada, take a look back at our Victoria’s Secret days and some of the photo shoots you had your “Top Model” contestants do. Hmm..
Meanwhile, time for a snack!
Eat if I want to,
Dress like I want to…..
Thanks, Lesley Gore, for the inspiration for the title!
There’s a wonderful daytime actress (Susan Flannery), who has been in the business for YEARS! She has played glamorous roles on Dallas, is on a very popular daytime drama (okay, “soap opera”), has directed, and is a veteran in her craft. She went from being the typical skinny glamour type to the full-figured, strong, independent, fiercely protective, and no-nonsense matriarch of a very powerful family in the FASHION business on this particular soap. Her once long, thick hair is now quite short, thin, and very white. Her once single-digit dress size has now changed to plus-size pants suits. A friend recently made a comment about how Susan had gained all that weight and would look better thinner. I whirled my 1X figure around and said, “Is she still a good actress? Can she still play the role? Has her size affected her dramatic ability in any way?” “Uh…no,” was the response.
As a matter of fact, the show celebrated episode 5000 last week, and the writers showed the full extent of their love and respect for their cast member. They wrote a STEAMY script for her – involving a wonderful love scene with her long-time hubby. When she asked him if he wished that she were 30 pounds thinner, he replied, “A waist is a terrible thing to mind.”
So, let’s hear a RIGHT ON for the Bold and the Beautiful (my 30-minute lunchtime escape from the world of medicine).
Now, on to Tyra Banks. A tabloid recently took a picture of her during a swimsuit photo shoot in Australia and then doctored it up to make her look VERY full-figured – cellulite and all. She appeared on her show – in the same swimsuit, curves and normal woman weight (not like a model) and showed the original photo in its untouched form and poked fun at the tabloid photo. She then went on to tell her viewers that anyone who puts someone else down because of appearance or any other reason can, “KISS MY FAT ASS!!!!!!” Hooray, Tyra!!!!!!
However…..She did a segment last night on the Bunny Ranch in Nevada – a legal brothel. She started the show off with a sermon against prostitution and how she wanted to show what “really” went on. Cameramen were allowed in the ranch. The owner, the madam, and several others were on the show. Where am I leading? If a woman is of the personality that she wants to sell her body, why should it be illegal or bad or anything else? It’s no one else’s business. These ladies live safely on the ranch and have to conform to some pretty strict rules, especially where health is concerned. These women have real goals – financial security, investments, the ability to retire in comfort. Sound familiar? They’re not at the mercy of a company who will pull the plug on a pension plan just when you’re about to need it. They’ve got their own investment portfolios! Come to think of it, they go to work and have to listen to the boss and do their work for pay just the way the rest of us do. Think about it…….
Back to Tyra. She heads up an empire, including the reality show, America’s Next Top Model. Uh, Tyra, isn’t modeling putting your body up for sale? So, before you criticize the folks in Nevada, take a look back at our Victoria’s Secret days and some of the photo shoots you had your “Top Model” contestants do. Hmm..
Meanwhile, time for a snack!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
SAY WHAT?
YOU REALLY THINK IT’S NEW AND YOURS ALONE?
My friend and Queen of Blog (Saphyre Rose) and I were chatting this afternoon, and she put the idea in my head that I should write this. So, Rose, this one’s for the both of us!
RAP, HIP-HOP. The latest and greatest inventions of the “younger generation.” WRONG!!!!!! Game-show buzzer just went off. NO WAY!
First of all, it’s most definitely NOT new. More importantly, my young hip-hopping friends, it AIN’T yours.
Let’s go back several hundred years to early opera and oratorio (terms which you may look up in the dictionary – no free rides here). Between arias (songs, to the youth among us), the characters on stage carried on conversations to let the audience know what was happening. In the case of a long opera, it probably also clued in the cast member who had slipped back to the dressing room for a sip out of the flask! So, with just a few chords being played as background and maybe some rhythm, one or more characters are talking on pitch and in rhythm.
A typical scenario would be 2 women fighting over the same guy:
Look, he’s mine.
No, he’s mine.
What can we do?
He’s mine.
No, he’s MINE.
YO’ MOMMA! (loose translation from Italian)
Then the argument continues in song.
Let’s advance the clock now a few hundred years and check out JAZZ! Yup. J-A-Z-Z! Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Sarah Vaughn, Billie Holiday, you know the sort. What do you think “scat-singing” really is? No real melody. Just a lot of cool syllables done rhythmically with a beat in the background.
Gee, how cool is that? So a number of 20th century classical composers decided to combine the two forms and come up with a German term “Sprechtstimmen,” literally “spoken singing.” It’s not true singing, but more speaking close to pitch and in rhythm, often to texts that actually rhyme.
Oh - and lest we forget the 50s and 60s! One of a number of very famous singers - JOHNNY CASH - did a wonderful song called "The Reverend Mister Black." He did not sing! He spoke in rhyme and rhythm: "He rode easy in the saddle. He was tall and mean...... Folks just called him The Reverend Mr. Black." Then there is the comedic country musician, Ray Stevens, who came out with a number of really funny songs that were not sung, but spoken in rhythm ("Mississippi Squirrel Revival," for one). How' bout that! Country music was rapping long before anyone else knew what it was!
Sigh….. just when a bunch of youngsters decided that they invented “their music,” I had to go and burst the bubble. Sorry, kids. It ain’t yours. And as a music teacher of mine used to say, “There ain’t nothin’ new under the sun.”
Now I’ve had my say,
Enough for today,
Mozart and Bach,
Those cats could rock.
No one holds a candle
To the composer named Handel.
Boom, chk, chk, chk, boom, boom……
My friend and Queen of Blog (Saphyre Rose) and I were chatting this afternoon, and she put the idea in my head that I should write this. So, Rose, this one’s for the both of us!
RAP, HIP-HOP. The latest and greatest inventions of the “younger generation.” WRONG!!!!!! Game-show buzzer just went off. NO WAY!
First of all, it’s most definitely NOT new. More importantly, my young hip-hopping friends, it AIN’T yours.
Let’s go back several hundred years to early opera and oratorio (terms which you may look up in the dictionary – no free rides here). Between arias (songs, to the youth among us), the characters on stage carried on conversations to let the audience know what was happening. In the case of a long opera, it probably also clued in the cast member who had slipped back to the dressing room for a sip out of the flask! So, with just a few chords being played as background and maybe some rhythm, one or more characters are talking on pitch and in rhythm.
A typical scenario would be 2 women fighting over the same guy:
Look, he’s mine.
No, he’s mine.
What can we do?
He’s mine.
No, he’s MINE.
YO’ MOMMA! (loose translation from Italian)
Then the argument continues in song.
Let’s advance the clock now a few hundred years and check out JAZZ! Yup. J-A-Z-Z! Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Sarah Vaughn, Billie Holiday, you know the sort. What do you think “scat-singing” really is? No real melody. Just a lot of cool syllables done rhythmically with a beat in the background.
Gee, how cool is that? So a number of 20th century classical composers decided to combine the two forms and come up with a German term “Sprechtstimmen,” literally “spoken singing.” It’s not true singing, but more speaking close to pitch and in rhythm, often to texts that actually rhyme.
Oh - and lest we forget the 50s and 60s! One of a number of very famous singers - JOHNNY CASH - did a wonderful song called "The Reverend Mister Black." He did not sing! He spoke in rhyme and rhythm: "He rode easy in the saddle. He was tall and mean...... Folks just called him The Reverend Mr. Black." Then there is the comedic country musician, Ray Stevens, who came out with a number of really funny songs that were not sung, but spoken in rhythm ("Mississippi Squirrel Revival," for one). How' bout that! Country music was rapping long before anyone else knew what it was!
Sigh….. just when a bunch of youngsters decided that they invented “their music,” I had to go and burst the bubble. Sorry, kids. It ain’t yours. And as a music teacher of mine used to say, “There ain’t nothin’ new under the sun.”
Now I’ve had my say,
Enough for today,
Mozart and Bach,
Those cats could rock.
No one holds a candle
To the composer named Handel.
Boom, chk, chk, chk, boom, boom……
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Her name was Lucy.....
Her name was Lucy.
My Great Aunt Lucy was born in Virginia 1887, a mere 22 years after the Civil War. The youngest of 9 children, she was somehow different from the others. It’s almost as if she had ended up in the wrong litter – a poodle among boxers! She never married. Well into her 70s, she kept her hair died blonde and wore it long, curly, and wild. She wore too much makeup. She wore lots of rings (mostly big) and lots of bracelets. She always wore a large hat – and she wore a fur muff in the winter. She had piercing, sparkling eyes. I was completely fascinated with her when I was a child.
She was creative. To supplement her Social Security income, she started sewing doll costumes – everything from Southern Belles with ruffles to the Merry Widow in black velvet and fur. She lived in Washington, DC at the old Willard Hotel, at a time when it was mostly a rooming house when its former grandeur had faded, and it was inhabited by all kinds of people because it was affordable. Lucy didn’t mind not having a house of her own or husband or children. She was the Belle of the Willard and was never at a loss for company.
How I used to look forward to my visits with Aunt Lucy! Since my parents and I lived with my grandmother(her sister), my parents had no choice! We drove from Baltimore to Washington to visit her, or Aunt Lucy took the train from Washington to stay with us for a few days. Those visits were wonderful for me. Aunt Lucy used to bring me trinkets or a doll or something “girlie.” I loved her eccentric clothes and hair and how she always smelled of perfume.
Now, what brought all this on? I’ve been trying to find if there are any living relatives, especially on my mother’s side of the family, and I happened upon a little bit of info on Aunt Lucy in my Internet search. It said she was born, lived, and died – and gave her Social Security number.
When I went through my memories of Aunt Lucy, I realized that I inherited many of her traits without even knowing. I wear lots of jewelry everyday. I’m single. I march to my own drum.
Guess this apple fell from a tree two generations back.
My Great Aunt Lucy was born in Virginia 1887, a mere 22 years after the Civil War. The youngest of 9 children, she was somehow different from the others. It’s almost as if she had ended up in the wrong litter – a poodle among boxers! She never married. Well into her 70s, she kept her hair died blonde and wore it long, curly, and wild. She wore too much makeup. She wore lots of rings (mostly big) and lots of bracelets. She always wore a large hat – and she wore a fur muff in the winter. She had piercing, sparkling eyes. I was completely fascinated with her when I was a child.
She was creative. To supplement her Social Security income, she started sewing doll costumes – everything from Southern Belles with ruffles to the Merry Widow in black velvet and fur. She lived in Washington, DC at the old Willard Hotel, at a time when it was mostly a rooming house when its former grandeur had faded, and it was inhabited by all kinds of people because it was affordable. Lucy didn’t mind not having a house of her own or husband or children. She was the Belle of the Willard and was never at a loss for company.
How I used to look forward to my visits with Aunt Lucy! Since my parents and I lived with my grandmother(her sister), my parents had no choice! We drove from Baltimore to Washington to visit her, or Aunt Lucy took the train from Washington to stay with us for a few days. Those visits were wonderful for me. Aunt Lucy used to bring me trinkets or a doll or something “girlie.” I loved her eccentric clothes and hair and how she always smelled of perfume.
Now, what brought all this on? I’ve been trying to find if there are any living relatives, especially on my mother’s side of the family, and I happened upon a little bit of info on Aunt Lucy in my Internet search. It said she was born, lived, and died – and gave her Social Security number.
When I went through my memories of Aunt Lucy, I realized that I inherited many of her traits without even knowing. I wear lots of jewelry everyday. I’m single. I march to my own drum.
Guess this apple fell from a tree two generations back.
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