Category Archives: Musings

Searching for a sign

March 25, 2014Musingscommunication, nursing home, signsJane

I went to visit a friend in a skilled nursing home a few days ago the first time I’d gone there When I drove into the parking lot, I saw two buildings, identical, each with an identical porte-cochère and entrances. Having no idea which I needed, I parked in front of the first and went inside, into a small, square and very nicely furnished parlor. On the right was a dark office. Ahead of me was a door to a garden area. On my left was a dark corridor which ended at a dark office.

Stumped, I headed out, went to the other entrance and found a woman in the second building, a skeleton staff because I’d arrived on a Saturday. After I explained my problem, she said, “There’s a sign on the door that says for you to ring the bell.” When I said I hadn’t seen it, she volunteered to take me over and show me. I discovered that to find that sign, I had to turn left at the front door and go down the dark corridor, then take a right down another corridor to reach the door.

Why hadn’t I done that? The BIG reason is that I didn’t think I should be wandering around in a nursing facility. the patients deserved their privacy. A very small reason is that I have a fear of being too stupid to live. If I had wandered alone down that dark hallway, would I have ended up like the coed who explores the basement during a thunderstorm without a flash light while a really bad guy is killing people? Explaining either of my feelings was more trouble than it was worth, so I merely thanked the woman and went into the unit–although I did suggest there needed to be a sign at the front door.

RULE #1 about signs: They should direct clueless people to the correct door and be no further than five feet from the spot people realize they are lost and clueless. RULE #1a: If people know where to go only after they’ve been there once, the facility needs a sign.

RULE #2 about signs: They should make sense

A neighbor has a sign on the back of her car that reads, “Baby up in this b*tch.” From the shape and colors of the sign, I guess it means the same as the “Baby on board” signs but I really had no idea what it meant. Isn’t the reason for “Baby on board” to alert people in case of accident that they should also look for a baby? Isn’t it a good idea therefore, to write it in words that people understand instead of using slag that we older or less hip people may not understand?

Have you wandered in search of a sign? Please share. I like to know I’m not alone.

Magical Thinking, Basketball, and Louisville, Kentucky

March 11, 2014A question, Celebrating, Church, Musings, Sports, University of LouisvilleAsh Wednesday, basketball, Diane, faith, sister-in-law, superstitionJane

We sports fans are superstitious. I’m absolutely certain if I wear my OCTAGON OF DOOM T-shirt Kansas State will win all home basketball games. I didn’t wear it Saturday and we lost.

My husband believed that if he held our buff cocker spaniel in a certain way, the University of Louisville Cardinals would win. That was in 1980 when we DID win our first national championship. Guess it did work all.

But what this is really is called “magical thinking”, the idea that if I do things exactly this way, I have control over the situation. It’s magic!

I’m guilty of this which is why, when my sister-in-law Diane called last Wednesday and said “I’m afraid if I don’t go to the Ash Wednesday services tonight, Uof L will lose the game,” I believed her. Yes, the Cards were playing SMU on Ash Wednesday and she feared God would punish her team if she didn’t go to the service. I didn’t go to services because I don’t drive at night so this was ALL up to Diane. She hadn’t decided yet if she’d leave as soon as she got the ash cross on her forehead–the Episcopalians have a name for that act but I belong to a far less liturgical church and don’t know what the word is–or stay for the entire service.

Neither of us believe God cares who wins a basketball game. We know a final score is is a petty concern in a world filled with hunger and disease, earthquakes and tsunamis. And, yet, maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t tempt fate. That’s superstition not faith.

So, yes, I know God doesn’t guide a basketball through a hoop or cause a turnover. But when SMU went up 26-12, I leaped to my feet, grabbed a phone, and called to tell her that I blamed her for the lopsided score if she hadn’t gone to the service.

She wasn’t home. I left a message. As I hung up, UofL went on a run and never looked back. We won easily. She called me after the game was over and took credit for the win because she’d gone to the entire service Thank you, Diane!

Do you have a superstition which guarantees your team wins? Or at least makes you feel as if you have some control?

Jay Leno, Billy Crystal, and me

March 4, 2014A question, MusingsBilly Crystal, Jay Leno, stick to it, Wayne GretzkyJane

On Jay Leno’s final show, he and Billy Crystal reminisced about the time before they made it big. Jay said he’d finally gotten a slot to perform in a nationally broadcast event. Just as he was introduced, a special bulletin came on about the a hurricane. No one got to see his set.

Billy Crystal said his first big break came in an appearance on a “That Was the Week that Was.” His set was about the first commercial after the legalization of marijuana, a complete spoof because this was made many years ago when support for such a law didn’t exist. The night the show aired, he was watching at home and that skit never appeared. The network had decided they didn’t want to be associated with marijuana in any way and cut the piece.

I imagine each of us had a story about how our first break never happened. When I started writing, I wrote sweet Regencies. My first, The Mad Herringtons, was a Golden Heart finalist so was a fairly good book. But every publisher I submitted it to closed their Regency line about a week before I submitted. With one, I got two letters from one publishing company. The first offered a contract. The second withdrew it because the line had just closed.

All three of us kept going and finally made it–although Jay Leno and Billy Crystal at a slightly higher level than I. But, as Wayne Gretzky said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Do you have a story about how you kept trying or an inspirational story about someone else? I love to hear them.

What great parents

February 25, 2014A question, Musings, travelDiego Rivera, MexicoJane

Many years ago, during an obvious lapse in judgement which turned out to be lots of fun, I agreed to take a group of my high school Spanish students to Mexico. We all survived.

What I’ll never forget from that trip–made, of course, when I was much younger–was the art. Everywhere we went were murals with obvious political statements about the government and politics and history of Mexico painted on the walls and ceilings of many public buildings. The paintings transcended the political message in their artistry and beauty, the vibrancy of the colors, the glorious scope and vision of the muralists. I immediately became a huge aficionada of the work of them all, but most deeply of Diego Rivera.

For that reason, I was reading about his life in Wikipedia and came upon this wonderful story. It seems that Rivera was born one of a twin. His brother died when he was two. A year later, Diego began his career in art. “He had been caught drawing on the walls. His parents, rather than punishing him, installed chalkboards and canvas on the walls.”

How cool is this? Most parents would probably have punished a three year old, at least discouraged him forcefully from drawing on the wall. Did he become a great muralist because he was allowed to draw on the walls? Or did his parents recognize his talent even when he was so young and encourage him? Or were they just the kind of parents we wish we all had and could be?

Do you have a story about how your parents or a friend or relative encouraged you? Or have you encouraged another person to fulfil a dream. I’d love to hear.

Why No One Will Ever Confuse Me with Gracie Gold

February 11, 2014Olympics, Sportsfigure skating, tell the truth, weak anklesJane

When I was six years old, my best friend Linda and I enrolled in figuring skating lessons. We arrived at the rink for our first lesson, pulled on our new skates, tied the laces, and hit the ice. We went every Saturday morning for months and about every two weeks, Linda was promoted to higher class and I never left the beginners. I’d tried so hard. I followed instructions, I practiced, I pushed myself but never, never moved up to the next level. I had no idea why not, not until years later when my mother said she always felt terrible for me as I trudged around the ice–but not only on the sharp blades but also on my ankles. I had–and still have–very weak ankles that couldn’t support me on ice skates. I skated on two blades and the outsides of my skates. No way I was going to go up a class when I was “ankling” as much as I was “skating.”

I wish someone had explained it to me. I wish someone had told me the truth. I wish the instructor had said, ‘Monica Jane, this is probably not the sport for you.” Or that four-year-old who was quickly moved from beginners had said to me, “Why do you skate funny?” Or my mother had suggested I not return and given the reason. I imagine no one wanted to hurt my feelings, but, really, never improving didn’t hurt?

Do you have something you wish some had told you about? Please share. It makes me feel so much better.

Me and the Olympics (or, for the grammarphobic like me: The Olympics and I)

February 4, 2014Musings, Olympics, Sportsskiing, WInter OlymppicsJane

The first time I had to accept the fact I was growing–oh, no!– older was when I realized I’d never represent my country in the Olympics. Not that I have any athletic skills that would have even allowed me to participate in a competition even at the lowest level, but the realization it would never happen hit hard. Well, not really. It was one of those moments that reminded me I was no longer eighteen. In honor of the upcoming Winter Olympics, I thought I’d discuss my brief career as a skier.

In high school, I went on a ski trip to Estes Park. We stayed in a cheap ski resort which didn’t have chair lifts. Instead, the lift was like a small garbage-can lid that one put between one’s legs and this–for many of the skier–towed one up to the top of the trail. Not for me. This was not friendly to a novice skier who’d had two hours of lessons, then was expected to, more or less, ski uphill. Every time–every single time–I lost control of the skis, unable to keep them straight in the ruts worn in the snow And every single time, I fell off the garbage-can lid half way up the hill with only one choice: to walk sideways in those skis I couldn’t control, across the snow and through the trees until I reached the trail. I’d ski down the trail and start the trek all over.

As frustrating as this was, my best friend had an even worse time. She stood at the lift station, put the garbage-can lid between her leg. When the lift pulled her, her skis flew into the air and she fell off on her head after about six inches. I can’t remember now if she ever got to the top of the hill.

Next week: how my bad ankles doomed my figure skating career.

Skipping Fridays for a month or two or six

February 1, 2014Family, George, Musings, Writingblog, Friday, taxes, TuesdayJane

In my efforts to get the taxes together–which I do not do well or happily but feel I’m not alone in that–and working on new writing projects, I’ve decided to write only one blog a week, my Tuesday blog.

I didn’t think I’d like blogging when I first started. The publicist at my publishing company requested I do that and I enjoy it During the time after George’s death when I didn’t feel a bit creative, writing, I found a short blog kept me writing. Also, I’ve been amazed at some of the topics I came upon and I really love it when someone comments.

Please keep up with me on Tuesdays!

The Sound of Approval

I love petting Scooter, my gorgeous long-haired tuxedo cat. His fur feels like cashmere. But the greatest joy is that he purrs, loudly. He makes me believe–true or not–that I’m the most important being in his life. Then he leaps off my lap and scratches the furniture and bites his sister’s eaars. Nonetheless, when I’m petting him, I’m sure we’re communicating.

I wish all beings made a sound which allowed me to understand their thoughts. Oh, yes, I know many do and often loudly and crudely, but that’s not what I mean. For example:

I wish those I cook for made a sound like “yummy, yummy” every time they enjoyed that meal or treat. Of course, the echoing silence coming from them when chewing a dish they didn’t like might be a downside.

Wouldn’t it be great if a teenager made a positive sound when he/she recognized I’d done something right or good or helpful instead of that withering shrug. Perhaps it would sound something like a dove, a high pitched “Cool, cool, cool.” Or, if that’s too much to expect, “Okay, okay.” Just not, “Whatever.”

Or, perhaps, my boss–as he piled more work on my desk–might make a sound like, “Good job” or “Well done.” Could be I’d work even harder.

As I think of this, I realize I too should make more positive sounds when something good happens. Yes, I should actually give my approval in real words. “Great” or “Thank you” or “I admire you”.

What do you think?

Scaredy cat

January 21, 2014A question, Confession, Hysteria, MusingsHalloween, haunted house, heroes, panic, Sandy HookJane

I’m always to impressed in a movie when people are held hostage and the hero says, “I’ll stay with you if you’ll let the women and children go.” What a strong, compassionate–and just a little hot–man.

Heroes–like the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School who attempted to stop the gun man, who shoved children in closets, who took the shots to save the children from death–they were admirable, true heroes. I’d like to be that strong.

But would I be like that? Could I be so brave that I’d trade my life for the life of another person? I always hope that if I were in such a situation, I’d step forward and speak to the hostage taker in such soft, dulcet tones that I’d calm them or sing Amazing Grace with so much emotion that the person would realize the need to turnaway from the dark side. Perhaps such loving foregiveness would shine in my face that the criminal would suddenly recognize the need to change his life.

I’d like to so but I’m not at all sure.

Many years ago a fifth-grade student talked me in to going into a Haunted House around Halloween. He promised me it would not be scary (Hint: never trust the word of a fifth grader about if anything is scary or not) But I believed him and we went inside what was a converted barn. I was just fine and not a bit frightened with the first few stops. But then a cobweb-covered ghost lying in a casket sat up. I knew very well this was a teenage kid wearing a costume. I knew there was nothing supernatural here. I understood all of this. Nevertheless, as soon as that ghost sat up, I screamed and ran, shoving small children out of my way. I pushed aside a sobbing little girl. I reached the door first and rolled it open, never stopping in my panic. In that moment I didn’t care if the ghost got everyone else as long as I made it out of the haunted house alive. ( In the interest of accuracy, I must state I never looked like the picture on the right.)

I am filled with deep shame as I confess this. But I still hope–given a chance–I have the courage to save an entire island from the heavily armed revolutionaries. Yes, I could do that–as long as the action doesn’t take place in a haunted house.

Have you experienced any moments that showed a really admirable side of you? Or, perhaps, a negative? Please tell me–especially the negative side. It would make me feel so much better.

The most absurd commercial?

January 3, 2014A question, Musings, Stuff, Technologyabsurd commercials, car on train, commercials, fantasy, Smart carJane

I’ve seen a lot of idiotic commercials on television–the Cialis bath tubs, for example–but a recent commercial makes me worry. Perhaps we shouldn’t allow people who believe they can do whatever is done on television to ever leave their homes. Ever.

The one I’m talking about is an automobile commercial in which the driver zooms up a ramp. The speed and angle of the car allow it to become airborne. It lands on the top of a train. A warning at the bottom of the screen says, “Fantasy. Do not try this.” If that’s not enough, the next warning reads: “Fantasy. Do not try this. Cars cannot land on trains.” Do people really not know this? Again, if they don’t, they should not be allowed out on the street on foot or in any kind of vehicle.

What’s the most absurd commercial you’ve seen? I’d like to know.

Also, as I searched for a picture, I couldn’t find one of a car on top of a train. That lack tells me that, really, people seem to know this is not true. All I could find is a car INSIDE a train (above) which, I’m fairly sure is fantasy as well but it was the best I could do.