A CHILL FROM THE PORCH — :)

The chilly start to my morning coffee ritual made me realize that something was starting that I tend to try to ignore and make “go away”.  This is the last full week of summer, to which I say, “WWAAAHHHHH!!” Then Fall will begin, a beautiful season it is true, but the harbinger of Winter and that cold, nasty white stuff!  All to soon the days of swimming and running barefoot in the sand will come to an end.  No more seashells to collect and no more campfires to light. No more blood-sucking mosquitoes or nasty bottlehead flies that chew and bite — WAIT!! — that doesn’t sound right! Those creepy critters can go away and stay away —  🙂

Bobby "getting Grandpa wet"

The point is that my favorite season of all — even with the heat and humidity — is coming to a close once again.  I will miss Summer and being in the sunshine while coating myself  in sunblock —  I use SPF kagillion — ;).  I will miss the smell of the sea as I drive closer to the shore.  I will miss the swimming and the gleeful laugh of my grandson, Bobby, as he jumps into the pool to splash his Grandpa.  I couldn’t get him to realize that Grandpa was already wet, but  just the look on Bobby’s face told me everything.  He just didn’t care since he was having so much fun!  I would giggle and say to him, “Bobby!  You’re getting Grandpa all wet!”  He would laugh out loud and shout, “HAHA, Grandpa!! I got you again!!”

I remember my childhood summers as if most of them just happened yesterday.  I guess that’s the way it is when there is such an intensity of activity that always surrounded our many trips to the Wildwood beach when we were kids.  There were four of us siblings.  There was my older brother, Bob; my “Irish-twin” sister, Flossie (her Christian name is Florence, but nobody called her that except my parents) ; me, of course; and my younger brother, David (before he became “Behave Dave”).

Along with the four of us and my Mom and Dad was my grandmother, Nana Blake.  She lived with us in Southwest Philly when we were growing up.  She stayed with us a short while even after our move to South Jersey as well, but then moved in with another Aunt and Uncle after my Mom got sick.  My Nana Blake was probably the best baker in the entire world.  To this day, nothing comes close to her home made apple pie — except when I had a taste of my daughter-in-law, Melissa’s pie, which was pretty darned close — 🙂

Anyway, I am straying off the subject.  We were the original entourage.  We just didn’t go to the shore with me, my brothers and sisters, my parents and my grandmother.  Oh, no!  We also had my Uncle Vin, Aunt Elenore and my cousins, Patsy, Regina and Cass along for the ride.  Sometimes we would even meet my Aunt Angela, Uncle Harry and cousins Jim, Joannie, and Mike on the beach or boardwalk, too.

Uncle Vin and Uncle Harry

We always stayed in the same summer apartments on 17th Street in North Wildwood.  It was Mrs. McGinty’s place, but I don’t know if it had any other name to go by and I’m not sure I even spelled her name correctly.  The last time I was in North Wildwood, I couldn’t find the place so my guess is it was either torn down to make room for condos, or it simply just is not there anymore.  Regardless, she always referred to us as “the gypsies” because we traveled in a caravan and our cars were loaded to the gills with all the supplies needed for our two week annual stay.  When we were really little, my Dad would tie the playpen on top of the roof of our car, keep it open, and throw all the baby supplies and anything else that would fit without flying out during our drive.

Mommy, sister Flossie and me

During our two week stay, which was always the last week of July and the first week of August, my parents would pack up enough food to feed an army.  True, there quite a few of us, but believe me when I tell you that our refrigerator was always well stocked.  There was always plenty of food for dinners, but in the mornings, my Dad would go to the bakery for fresh sticky buns then pick up lunchmeats, chips, pretzels and other lunch goodies.  After chowing down on the pasteries, my Mom, Aunt Elenore, and Nana Blake would make lots of sandwiches while my Dad and Uncle Vin would ice down our famous Coca Cola cooler for sodas. You remember me telling you about this cooler  — the one with the bottle opener on one end that we would take to the drive-in with us??  I imagine that it took a while to pack up all our stuff, but finally my Dad whistled and we were ready to go.  So off we went to the beach — sandbuckets, shovels, beach chairs, blankets, coolers, kids and adults alike — to spend the entire day there.  We dug in the sand making all sorts of stuff.  One of my favorites was a speed boat that my Dad helped to make.  It had seats that were dug deep enough into the sand that we had to climb down into it!  It was soooo awesome!!!  Another fun thing to do was to go to the water’s edge, dig a deep hole, let some water get into it, and make mud castles.  We squished the mud through our hands and it trickled out one drop at a time to make the towers.  That was pretty cool, too

All of the kids and the “men-folk” would stay on the beach and play after lunch.  But the “women-folk” would go back to our place and start dinner for the tribe.  Before we went back inside the apartment, we’d wash the sand off of us at the outside shower then head in for a regular shower.  Then we would all chow down together. Some nights, it was home-made gravy and meatballs that was brought from home and reheated, some nights we had burgers and hot dogs, and even hot roast beef, which was a speciality of my Mom’s — YUM!!!

Then it was off to the boardwalk to ride the rides, have some ice cream, and “watch the tram car”.  I remember that all of us were dressed up so nicely. Our clothes were freshly ironed, my brothers wore buttoned shirts, my Dad wore long pants (but he did wear his sandals — with socks), and my Mom wore a dress and, sometimes, even high-heeled shoes.  At lot of ladies wore high heels and many a time their heels would get stuck in the boardwalk slats.  Their gentlemen would help to get them unstuck and the ladies would check to see that no damage was done to their shoes.  Back then, going to the boardwalk was much more than arcades and expensive water parks.  It was a prominade — a perfect ending to a perfect day for families to enjoy together. It was a time for my Mom and Dad to treat us to an amusement ride or two, to have a “walk-away-sundae” or some freshly made potato chips.  It was a time to be out in the fresh air, watching the world go by and breathing in that “million-air”.  I still remember so many of those  Wildwood evenings with my Dad carefully walking Nana Blake to the benches across from Douglas Fudge, getting her settled for the evening so she didn’t have to keep walking and could do some “people watching”.  In those days, there was no fear of anybody harming each other — it was just a beautiful time.  Then there was the music coming from the ballroom on “the boards” and seeing my Mom and Dad dance like no one was watching. 

As an adult, I realize that my parents didn’t have much of a “vacation” after all.  They did a tremendous amount of work — the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the household chores — just so that we would have these wonderfully priceless memories.  So I savor the summer months with great pleasure.  I hope that my family will look back on our family vacations with the same joy and appreciation.

So come ahead, Ms. Fall.  Show us your brilliant spendor.  Dazzle us with your array of autumonial colors while I continue to bask in the warm glow of my summers past.

 

Worth repeating — from the porch

Worth repeating — from the porch.

Worth repeating — from the porch

Some of you may have read this before.  I wrote this shortly after the attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the twarted attempt on Washington DC. But given that’s today is the actual 10th remembrance of 9/11, I thought it was worth repeating.  I call it:

YOU MISSED THE TARGET

On September 11, 2001, you angered the entire plant with your cowardly display of utter aggression.  You and your cronies sky-jack’d some of our people while they were living their lives, then used them as part of your master plan to bring America to her knees. 

Well – you missed the target!!!  While it is true that, during the course of your terrorism against us, you did manage to destroy one of our landmarks and some of our possessions. You even succeeded in inflicting unbearable pain on your American victims and their surviving families.  Yet – you still missed the target.  Because, living like the rats that you are in your caves, you didn’t get to see us standing next to our victimized brothers and sisters.  You didn’t get to see us sharing their pain and offering our unconditional support and love.  You missed the unabashed display of unmitigated courage and heroism.

Do you want to know why you keep missing the target?  I’ll tell you – it’s because you simply cannot destroy something you don’t understand.  You will NEVER in a kajillion years even come close to scratching the surface of what it means to be an American.  After all, we have so much more than you will ever see in your pathetic lifetime.  We have George Washington, Washington Carver, and the Washington Redskins, not to mention the Miami Dolphins along with the Miami Rhapsody.  Who could ever forget Will Rodgers, Roy Rodgers, Buck Rodgers, and Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood?  Well, you could because you don’t even know them!

Remember Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman and Robin? Then there’s Robin Hood – we borrowed him and took him into our American heart.  Which reminds me – do you know about “Hart to Hart”, have a heart, or “You Gotta Have Heart”?  What about Dinah Shore or the Jersey shore?  Or have you heard the one about “What Did Delaware, Boys? I don’t know, Alaska”? – just a little ditty from Perry Como (you know him, right – sing to me, Mr. C).  I’ve got one for you – how about the Rat Pack or even the Brat Pack?

We have royalty, too.  There’s our Duke – the immortal John Wayne – and the King of Las Vegas, Mr. Wayne Newton.  We have the King of Rock-n-Roll (Elvis will always be with us), and Martin Luther King, with his hopes and dreams for all of America.  Don’t forget our Queen Latifah, and the Queen of Soul, Miss Aretha Franklin.  Our Little Princess, Miss Shirley Temple, who can still light up our lives with her dimples and golden curls!  We have military genius in the Generals, Lee, Grant, Patton, and Powell – and that’s just the short list, so don’t think that your attack on our Pentagon has gone unnoticed, buddy!  We even have Chiefs – like Joseph and Black Kettle – not mention our Commander in Chief, President George W. Bush, who comes from a long line of Presidents – like his dad, as well as Abe Lincoln, JFK, and the first President George (Washington, that is).

No – you missed the target all right.  You attacked us for your own personal reasons.  But you still missed because America is much more than the World Trade Center, the Pentagon or even Washington.  America is a gift to humanity that will always be out of your reach.  We are tropical beaches and pristine wilderness.  We are deserts and mountains and lakes.  We are a multi-hued painting of cultures, traditions, religions, and peoples.  We are African American, Irish American, Italian American, German American, Latin American, Native American, and Asian American – see the pattern here?  The keyword is “American”.  Sure, we squabble among ourselves, but that’s because we can – we’re American!  We have Rocky (all of them), and Rocky and Bullwinkle.  We’ve got Captain America and have trekked through the galaxy with the Captains Kirk and Picard.  We’ve discovered who Luke’s father really is – and you don’t have a clue as to what I am telling you, do you?

So we don’t need the likes of you and your band of thugs.  You make us GAG!!  Just like Khan, who continually missed the previously mentioned Captain Kirk, you keep missing the target!  But then again, you will never be able to zero in on something that you simply refuse to comprehend.

My advise to America is, “Let’s roll!!”

(HJS/110901)

 

9/11 FROM THE PORCH

“Give us your tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to be free” …. is part of the inscription on the Statue of Liberty.  Originally called “Liberty Enlightening the World”, she was a gift from France and was dedicated to America in October of 1886.  Now 125 years later Lady Liberty still torches the sky with her continuous beacon of hope,  light and her promises of freedom.

In 2009, we took a trip to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.  Our youngest son, Bob along with our daughter-in-law, Melissa and our grandson, Bobby, all bundled into the car to take the drive to North Jersey.  I remember it as a VERY cold and windy day in the fall — but we were prepared for the weather with scarves, hats, gloves, and mittens.  If we were in the sun, it wasn’t too bad and we were treated to some beautiful views of Manhattan.  We had told Bobby a little bit of the story of the Statue of Liberty so that when we went to the museum, he would have an idea of what he was about to experience.  He was really into the whole thing, going from exhibit to exhibit calling, “Guys!! Guys!! Look at this!!” He even used his creative license to add his own take on Liberty’s history.  “Listen, Nana”, he said in his most serious three year old voice.  We were looking at a display which showed the scaffolding behind a model of the statue.  It depicted the construction aspects, but Bobby had his own interpretation as he “read” from the display plaque.  “Here is the real story of the Statue of Riberty” — and yes, that’s exactly how he pronounced it — 🙂  He went on to say, “Once upon a time, a buncha guys were building a roller coaster.  But suddenly they changed their minds and made the Statue of Riberty instead!”  Ahh — from the minds of children comes such sweet logic — 😉

During the trip on the ferry to Ellis Island, we were surrounded by people who were speaking in languages that were totally alien to me.  I have enough trouble with my own native tongue.  There are various and distinctive accents that stamp America’s northern, southern, western, and eastern regions.  When we speak, our accents give away to the listener the location in America where we were brought up as children.  Sometimes, we take on the dialect of some of the different areas we live in.  My family, for example, was born and bred in the Great Northeast area — Southwest Philadelphia, to be exact.  My sister, however,  has taken on the accent of her adopted Florida.  It always causes me to chuckle a bit when she now says, “Y’all” when she used to say, “Youse”.  And it is no longer simply American cheese to her.  She drags the word out by saying “Ahhh-merrre-ikun” — LOL! 

 I did take two years of Spanish in high school and can still understand a small bit of it,  but it’s “use it or lose it”, right?  So was that French I heard from that family on the ferry?  Was that a little Russian, or German, or Italian mixed in with the sing-song languages of India?  Who knows what other languages were being thrown into the pot!  It occurred to me then that this is how it must have been for our ancestors during their trip to the shores of this fair land.  What were they saying?  Could it have been, “Look, Mama! There is the bright hope and future for our family!”?  Or was it something like, “What the hell was I thinking?? I don’t know anybody here, I have no place to go, I have no job, and that kid next to me just barfed on my shoe!! YUCK!!”  Whatever the thoughts were of those future citizens of the New World, they came here for one reason and one reason only.  America had made promises to the entire world and people flocked to her side to take her at her word.  They came here to be free of the shackles that binds the heart, spirit and souls of humans — they came to simply live.  But they did not come expecting America to do all the work.  No sir!  They came with great pride in their spirit.  With their hearts open, they carried the willingness to contribute to America through their own strong work ethics, belief systems and gratitude toward their adopted land.

Even though our day was sunny, bright, full of fun  and family, there was still something very essential that was missing.  Manhattan had a hole in her — a hole that was carved by fear, by prejudice, by death, by sadness and by tears.

I remember September 11, 2001 with a clarity that is sometimes disturbing.  It causes my stomach to tie up in knots and I have to remind myself to just breathe.  I’ve always been aware that emotions that offer peace and tranquility are very much below the surface of our  human selves.  When we experience these calming waves, we feel a sort of floating effect — like when you are in the ocean on a calm day and you just let the swells take you where they will, slowly caressing your body and soothing your spirit.

That day began with me getting ready to go to the office, just like millions of other Americans.   I was a Customer Service Representative for a laboratory supply company.  My office was an easy, breezy half- hour drive from our home and the morning was absolutely glorious.  The sky was that shade of blue that makes your heart flip and causes your mouth to drop open at the sheer beauty of it.  There was not a single cloud in the sky.  The sun carried the kind of warmth that caresses without heated discomfort.  It was just the perfect morning!  As I drove to the office with my sun roof open and the back windows down, the morning poured in all around me and I felt great!  It was also our son, Bob’s birthday.  He had enlisted in the US Navy that previous May, had married the love of his life, Melissa, in August,  and was now getting ready to finish up one of his many Navy technical training schools.  So I drove along, enjoying this gift of a fantastic start of my day as my mind wandered back to the birth of our son — what a wonderful day all around.

 I arrived at my office about fifteen minutes ahead of my scheduled time, which was my habit.  I hated it when people came running into the office at exactly the time the office opened.  To me, it was totally unprofessional to have a customer waiting while the phones were being readied for our typically busy days.  Arriving an extra five minutes earlier would have done the trick of helping to eliminate that “start of the day chaos” — but that’s just me — 😀  Anyway, I went about my usual routine and at about 9AM or so, I heard one of my associates scream.  Of course, all work stopped, and I went over to check on her.  All she did was point to her computer and that’s when I saw the damage to the World Trade Center caused by a passenger airliner.  I kept thinking, “Where are all the Air Traffic Controllers??”  Since there was really nothing any of us  could do at that point, I went back to my desk only to hear the same associate scream again!  I actually ran back and saw the second plane HIT the second tower building!  I immediately went to my supervisor and made her aware of this event and she, of course, contacted our manager.  Long story short on that aspect, we were all gathered up together and were advised of what had happened not only in New York, but also in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon. We were all aware at the point that our beloved America was under attack.

                                                        

I so clearly remember my very first thought.  It was, “Where is my family.?”  I began a mental checklist — Bill: working, Melissa: working, Leo: working, Bob: oh, my God!!  What’s going to happen to Bob??  Is he going to be immediately deployed?  What about the rest of our military people?? What about the people in those buildings??  Then my most terrifying thought as I watched an unbelivable scene on the monitor, “Oh, my God!!!  That building is collapsing!! How are they going to get out???  What about the people in the 2nd tower as they are watching the 1st crumble??  Their terror must be off the scales!!”  All this occurred in  approximately 3 seconds of time — 3 seconds of fear — 3 seconds of anguish for all those lost.  And why?  We came to find out later that a band of terrorists calling themselves al Qaida decided that America is a devil that must be eradicated from this Earth.  So, because a group of radicals, who have NO true idea of what Americans are about,  took it upon themselves to destroy the lives of three thousand people, just to make a point!  Are ya’ kiddin’ me????

*** OK — deep breath — let it out slowly — focus **** — oooohhhhmmmm ***

Our son was eventually deployed once this madness caught up with him.  Today, he still serves his country with great pride and dignity and is currently stationed in the  middle East.  I still feel my Irish “get up” whenever I think of the cowards who came out from under their rocks that day just because they feel that their beliefs and rights are so much more important than the rest of mankind. Then my heart breaks all over again for the senseless loss of those lives on that beautiful September morning — all that promise — all that hope — all those dreams.  And I again send a prayer to God, or whatever people wish to call a power that is greater than themselves, that He will hold these innocents close to His heart and that He will forgive us all for our arrogance, greed, and selfishness. 

I recognize that my country is not perfect.  How can any country be perfect when they are all ruled and governed by us flawed humans.  But, as Americans we have demonstrated to the world what we are capable of doing for each other.  We proved our love and caring for each other through the remarkable rescue efforts in New York, Pennsylvania, and at the Pentagon.  We continue demonstrating that caring every time we send our young people off to a foreign country so that those people, too, can hear the bell of freedom ringing across their lands.

I know in my heart that, warts and all,  America is still “the greatest, baby”.  She might be sleepwalking right now — but once she awakens, she will dazzle us again with her greatness.  She will reteach us all that freedom is not a right or priviledge.  It is not something to give away like Halloween candy. It is something deeply  precious and must be earned.  Freedom is a very fragile thing and America does not need the sunshine patriot attitude of caring and protecting her only when it’s convient for us.  It should also not be considered a popular activity to fly our flags.  It should be a given that our flags are to be flown with pride for ourselves and for our country.   America needs us always to be her defenders, her children, her Americans.

My most sincere prayers of condolences are with the victims’ families, the survivors and all of the rescue persons as we commemorate this most vicious attack on America 10 short years ago.  Instead of the focus being on the terror, it is my hope that one day — and soon — we will come to the realization that we are one race — the human race.  Just like the babble of languages that blended together for the same purposes on that journey to Ellis Island, America can and will be the “Melting Pot of the World”. She will continue to bestow on us all the responsilibity, the caring, the respect and honor it takes to say, “I am a citizen of freedom and democracy.  I live in America and God bless her!”

Summer’s End from the Porch — :)

Greetings and salutations to all — and if you are reading this, that means that you have no special plans for the holiday weekend??  Nah — you’re just a little late getting started, right — 😉

I remember when we were kids growing up in Southwest Philly.  My Mom and Dad always celebrated the various summer holidays with style, panash and yummy-in-the-tummy foods.  If my memory serves (and don’t write this in stone — LOL!), we spent a lot of Labor Day holidays at a place called Kent Park.  That’s right, just like Superman’s alter-ego — 🙂  I can’t remember if there was an area there known as Mermaid Lake, which is where I learned to swim, but I just might be having two locations blurring into one.  Hey — at least I remembered the names of these place(s).  Wait!!! Maybe we spent Labor Days at Uncle Ed and Aunt Helen’s?? 

The only thing that I do remember clearly is how much fun I had with my family.  My Mom and my grandmom, Nana Blake (she lived with us when we were little) would usually go all out making enough sandwiches to feed an army of people!  There would be ham and cheese (Swiss for most, but American for my sister), bologna and cheese, peanut and jelly — all on white bread, some with mayo, or mustard or just plain.  Mom would also pack up the lettuce, tomato as seperate items since we were such a fussy bunch.  She didn’t seem to mind, though.  She always did it that way and kept her brood happy — which worked out well for her — 🙂 There was home made potato salad, macaroni salad, and cole slaw — not from a bag, but though.  My Mom shredded the cabbage by hand, seasoned it and mixed it all up.  As a kid, I thought it was kinda gross, but as I got older and actually tasted it, it wasn’t half bad — 😎  All this food went into our huge Coca Cola cooler — it was red and had a bottle opener on one end of it.  This cooler went EVERYWHERE with us — even to the drive-in (but that’s another story) — 😉

There would also be potato chips, pretzels, pickles, olives and lots and lots of soda.  But my favorite drink of all was my Dad’s “bug juice”. He made it with a can of frozen concentrated lemonade and a can of frozen concentrated grape juice (and family of mine: don’t argue since I make this myself even to this day!).  My Dad put it into a large glass jug full of ice. It was always nice and cold  — and the “bug” part came from the little lemon pulp floating all around the drink.  Like I said, I make it to this day, but at Halloween and give some to the Trick-or-Treaters.  “Have a little bug juice, anybody?”  Just the looks on the kids faces is worth it — LOL!

I digress.  As I grew into a teen, I wanted to spend more time with my friends.  By that time, we were living in Willingboro.  What a great town that was perfect for raising a family.  There was lots of room to play, ride our bikes and just be a bunch of kids having tons of fun.  We played outside in the street and went back home when the street lights came on. There were huge swimming pools in each section of town.  Those sections were actually called “parks” and each park had it’s own pool near it’s own elementary school.  We lived in Buckingham Park and all our street names began with the letter “B”.  That’s how we could tell where our friends homes were — if their street name began with a “P”, then they lived in Pennypack Park, “S” was for Somerset and so on. 

But like I said, it was a terrific town and I have very fond memories of the place.  When we moved there, my Dad felt like he was in heaven!  He finally had his own little acre (or actually quater-acre) that he could call his own.  I remember the day our back patio (Daddy always called it our “Irish back porch” — get it??) was finished and he was able to have his very first bar-b-que there.  He planted a dogwood tree in our front yard at my Mom’s request.  In the back was a row of pine trees, but there was also a bunch of Rose of Sharon bushes (some people call them Morning Glories).  My Mom and Dad went up to Discount Harry’s on Route 130 in Pennsauken to buy lawn furniture.  He was so excited that he had a lawn and he could just sit outside with nobody there but the trees, the birds.  He mowed the grass with an old push mower and loved the smell of freshly cut lawn — 😉

Anyway, my parents would invite some of our relatives from the city to travel “across the great waters” (as my Dad always called it when our Aunts, Uncles, and cousins drove over from Philly) to come for a picnic.  All of us kids and our cousins would head up the street and around the corner to go swimming for a couple of hours.  It was a real treat for them since, in the city, there was always “boys days” and “girls days” at the public pools.  But at our house, we could go swimming every single day of the week!  We enjoyed countless days of summers just hanging with our friends, swimming, riding our bikes home, having hot dogs on the grill along with fresh Jersey tomatoes and corn on the cob.  It was a great time for us and we were never bored.  There was just too many good times to be had.

None of that could’ve happened though without my Dad’s hard work.  I wouldn’t say he worked his fingers to the bone.  Daddy saved “hard labor” for his yard work and tree plantings.  He was a Draftsman by trade and worked for General Electric at the time we moved into Beaverdale Lane.  But, when he wasn’t at the office, he was always puttering around the house, enjoying the fruits of his labors, and watching his wife and children enjoy the life that he provided for us. 

Our home in Willingboro was a working man’s dream — and because it is now Labor Day, I want to wish all of our laborer’s the same happiness that my Dad enjoyed.

September Views

OK — so I’m retired and I didn’t pay all that much attention to the calandar.  Imagine my surprise when I noticed that it is now September!!  What????  Where did the summer go????  I know that some say, “Time flies when you’re having fun!”  Well, I must have been having such a blast that I didn’t even feel the summer months pass!

Anyway, it is in fact September.  I confirmed this by checking my cell phone calander and backing it up with my Comcast TV Guide listings — so there you have it.  No more turning of the calander pages for me, right?  As long as my cell phone stays charged and I don’t lose power in my home, I will always know the time and date with a click of my finger — LOL!

Don’t be misled here. I’m not totally knocking technology. I love technology!  It seems to be the only thing that separates us from the beasts (but maybe not for long??).  The kind of technology that benefits human-kind and the only planet that can support our particular life forms is my favorite.  But there are times when I feel that we are just too “connected”, know what I mean?

Take, for example, the “texting” feature that some of us have become accustomed to on our cell phones.  While I totally get that you can’t use your cell phones in a hospital setting and that “texting” is fine in order to communicate the patient’s updates with family members.  My issue with “texting” is the fact that many of us utilize it ALL the time — even when it’s not necessary!  So my question is, “Why can’t we just pick up the phone and talk to each other?  Or better yet, get in the car and make a person-to-person visit?”  Have we become so dependent on the speed of our “texting” that we no longer feel it’s necessary to make human contact?

One of my life’s little pleasures that I take full advantage of is reading.  A long time ago, I was diagnosed as being “slightly” dyslexic.  I always figured that either you are or you aren’t something, but hey, what do I know?  I’m not a doctor.  Anyway, I LOVE to read!  When I was in college, I had to read many technical journals and write some detailed papers full of facts, figures, and proofs.  Now I read just for the fun of it. My favorite types of books are what I call “bubble-bath-books” — romance types that require little or no thinking on my part since they are basically all the same. 

Anyway, I read actual books that I get from an actual library!  Maybe I will get away from the “bubble-bath-book” and search for something a little more mind stirring.  Regardless of the type of book, I enjoy the sound of the page turning.  I get a kick out of the feel of the paper and like the artwork on the glossy covers.  Someone had recently suggested that I go for one of those Kindle thingys (is that a technical term??), but I turned that idea down cold.  Library books fit right into my budget (free is for me!) and besides, I have enough gadgets to recharge on a regular basis.  Books don’t need to be recharged, but they sure to give me a boost.  There is nothing like having a real page-turner in my lap while enjoying the sweet pleasures of my back porch.

Manners are another issue for me when it comes to technology.  I realize that “being connected” has sadly become the norm.  But it is my feeling that in order to get “connected” to the outside world, we must first connect with our families.  When I was a kid and the phone rang during our dinner hour, my parents just let it ring!  “If it’s important, they’ll call back”, my Dad would say.  I could tell that my Mom wanted to jump right up and answer the calling of Ma Bell, but she managed to restrain herself during dinner.  Even though I loved sitting around the dinner table each night and actually having dialogues with my parents, my grandmother and my siblings, I was THRILLED with the advent of answering machines, so this is a perfect example of how technology aids mankind — LOL!  The ringers on those older phones (party lines, rotary dials, non-cordless — go to the library and look it up — LOL!) were lound and annoying to say the least.

My point is — and I guess I have to reel myself in and focus — that we, as humans, have allowed ourselves to be soooooo “connected” that we are now out of touch with our “public” manners — and don’t even get me started on the absolute stupidity of texting/talking while trying to control all the aspects of an 8 ton vehicle barrelling down a highway! I’ve realized, even from a young age, that “manners” are not just the magic words of “please” and “thank you”.  Manners instill in ALL of us the practice of respect for each other — and, more importantly, for ourselves.  After all, we cannot demand that people respect us if we don’t even respect us.

So, back to September.  I love this month! It’s like a whiff of fresh air that clears away the cobwebs of planning trips, packing the right amount of clothes, making sure the mail and newspapers are stopped — all the little things that go into enjoying our leisure times. I can actually stop some of the madness, not be so “connected” to my various technological gadgets and have a small window of “me” time.  The temperatures are cooling and the windows are open for the breezes that will remove the stale air-conditioned air.  It’s a time when I can open my front door and see life moving again in the neighborhood (after I remove the “art work finger prints” made by my little grandsons — :)).  Maybe we should all give ourselves a “clean sweep” and try to actually enjoy life by becoming an active part of it. And trust me, if you turn off your gadgets during family gatherings, while you are driving, or reading a real book — if you actually participate physically and mentally — I think that you would be amazed to see that the earth will NOT open up and swallow you whole.  

Life is way to short, kiddies — don’t let your tomorrows become any regretable yesterdays — 🙂