And Then She Was Gone

"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until [she] comes home and rests [her] head on [her] old, familiar pillow."~ Lin Yutang

I left town for the annual Romance Writers of America conference. This year it was held in New York City. I landed in Hartford, CT to spend time with my friend, Toni Andrews, who got me into this whole writing thing in the first place. I spent the first few days hanging out at her cottage on a lake. It’s a marvelous place and the lake is pristine.

The Red Line

We took the train from New Haven into New York City, checked into the hotel and then went to eat at a tiny Chinese restaurant off of Time Square. Our waiter advised us against the fried food because we “Americans” we’re picky about our fried foods. I simply looked at him and asked, “Does it look like I am picky about my fried foods?” His response was an inscrutable face. I decided then and there not to play poker against this guy. We took his advice, ordered the dumplings and a pancake thing, and by the end of our eating frenzy, we were all friends.

The next day I had nothing scheduled until 5:00 p.m. I went to the Subway station on 42^nd street, bought a week metro pass, and planned to head uptown to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I looked at the map on the wall and the worthless map from the hotel in my hand which showed me the city, but not the subway lines. I figured it out and entered the bowels of NYC. If you want to spend a hot moment in NYC, then you definitely need to head down into the subway stations. Probably a great place to be in the winter, but it was the end of June.

I will admit that I had to go back and forth to the map a couple of times before I figured out that there was a shuttle directly to Grand Central where I could then transfer to the 4, 5 or 6 lines  to get uptown. It was simple and fun. The only advice I have to anyone visiting NYC is get an MTA pass; ride all over the city on the subways and buses. I headed uptown. I got off at the 77^th Street station, walked over to Central Park and then up to the museum.

I come from a family that loves museums and this is a great one, but that isn’t why I had to visit it. I had to come to this museum because of the book From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. It was one of my favorite books as a kid. Right up there with Harriet the Spy. The museum did not disappoint. I wandered all over; skipped the Alexander McQueen exhibit (45 minute to an hour wait –ugh!); got up to the roof top and the spectacular view and ended the trip by meandering through the Rooms with a View exhibit.

Belvedere Castle Tower

I wandered into Central Park because I had to see Belvedere Castle. Little did I know that Central Park would be my Bermuda Triangle of NYC. I easily got to the castle. I left the castle and had a couple of more hours until I had to get back to the hotel and my volunteer gig at the Literacy signing. I decided that I’d walk down Central Park toward mid-town and then head back out to the east side of the park and figure out what bus or subway to catch. I got a hot dog and some water from a vendor in the park and began my meandering.

It was a beautiful walk. After about an hour, I decided that I needed to head out of the park. Only I couldn’t figure out exactly where I was or how to get out. I finally found a sign, “Shakespeare Garden.” For those of you who know Central Park, I can hear you laughing. For everyone else, I was pretty much where I had started except a little further west. I’d walked for an hour, gone no where and enjoyed the trip. I quickly headed out of the park and back to the 77^th St. station.

My first impression of NYC: it is one of the best cities in the world and the people are friendly. I can’t wait to go back because I haven’t even come close to eating my way through the five boroughs and a woman has to have a dream.

"One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as five years."~ Thomas Wolfe

"It Was the Best of Times..."

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only." Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities

I read this book as a Freshman in High School. I remember only bits and pieces of the over all story and I don't remember the paper that I must have written at all. What I do remember and have for most of my life is the opening paragraph. This has to be one of the best opening paragraphs ever written. After all, it caught the attention of a fourteen year old and held it for mumbles plus years.

My week was the best of times and not the rest of the quote. There were plenty of challenges from sheriff visits to tales of suicide. Reasonable accommodation requests for children with genetic illnesses that required bone marrow transplants and an HVAC system that was on the brink of failure which would have stopped A/C for over one hundred units housing families in the desert heat. I normally don't deal with the day-to-day operations of on-site management. I can do it, but my normal life is on the corporate side which is an "above the fray" existence. It is good to get back into the fray. It is good to remember what the true purpose of our business is. Our purpose is to provide safe and decent housing to an under served population.

I know that it is easy to look at our customers and see only the worst. To look at them and think that it is good money going after bad. I know plenty of people who look upon "affordable housing" customers in that manner. I struggle to not do it myself during moments of utter and complete frustration with the lies and the intransigence. For me, the bottom line comes from my faith which is not based on any specific church at all. It is Christ centered and I refuse to call myself a "Christian" because in today's world that label has been perverted to one of judgmental hatred of "other". It is no longer a label or teaching that looks to the example of Christ but seems more like the Pharisees of old whom Christ taught against. Christ was inclusive of the "others" of his time and chastised those leaders who were not. And what would He think of our religious leaders now? Well, we all have to be the judge and jury for our own souls, don't we?

"It was the best of times," because I remembered the true reason for my work. It isn't just to make money and be a consumer. It is to serve those who are outcasts; to fight for those who do not have a voice. It is to be a servant leader in a world and a country that appears to have sold its soul to the highest bidder.

"And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all." Mark 10:44

I am hopeful that before our country is destroyed by our own Pharisees that they remember the teachings of Christ. And if their acclaimed Christianity doesn't teach them to be a servant leader, then perhaps each needs to re-read A Tale of Two Cities. It is through Sydney Carton's self-sacrifice that he finally redeems himself and his wasted life. It is his death, his Christ like sacrifice, albeit for the love of a woman rather than humanity as a whole, that redeems him. His final thought a testament against those who lead and do not serve.

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."

A Response to a Discussion

This blog is in response to a discussion on BlogFrog started by The Redhead Riter. You can get to it here although you may have to join to read it. I was just going to respond to the discussion, but as you can see it was far too long a response.

I've been reading a book, Lords of Finance: The Bankers Who Broke the World by Liaquat Ahamed. It is not about the recent financial crisis but about what led to WW I and then the "Great Depression" and WW II. What I find interesting about the book is that all of the banking names are the same - it is still Chase, JP Morgan, etc.... Amazingly, the reasons for separating investment banking from commercial banking because of how the combination fed into the "Great Depression" were totally ignored when "we" allowed the repeal of those laws back in the 80's, 90's and early 00's.

In my opinion, what we have forgotten as a people, as a country, as a society, is that capitalism is a tool. It is an amoral system used to create "capital". It is okay for a tool to be amoral. However, when you put an amoral system onto an altar and worship it, then as a human the best you can hope to be is amoral. Unfortunately, most people who worship at the altar of capitalism end up being immoral.

Thus, we have our captains of industry with obscene compensation packages based only on how they can "show" the company profited. It isn't based on doing or creating anything. Their pay and bonuses are not based on job retention or creating economic opportunity for this country at all. Their excuse is that they answer to their "share holders" and "board of directors" except that they  do not pay dividends to the share holders and the board of directors for the companies are simply their "friends" who are paid to be on the board and rubber stamp each others compensation agreements.

We, the consumers and electorate, deserve our own share of responsibility. We "blame" others, illegals, chronic poor, etc..., rather than own up to our own insatiable appetite to own the latest gadget. We cannot afford to buy the gadget if it is made by American workers because we all want to make "a living wage" that allows us to buy an iPhone, Android, smart phone/pad. Therefore, we buy from discount stores that buy their goods from China, etc... where the employees make less in a day than an American worker makes in an hour. Thus, our job and our neighbors' jobs end up being shipped overseas.

It is far too easy to blame things on our politicians and others. It is far too easy when we are scared to state that it is public servants, teachers, clerks, etc... who make too much money and have broken our civil budgets. It is far too easy to say that it is "the other" that is not like us who is using too much of something that has caused this.

"The money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient truths. The measure of the restoration lies in the extent to which we apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit." - Franklin D. Roosevelt

Unfortunately, we put the money changers back on their high seats and we now reap what we sowed.

A Time for Courtesy

"Real etiquette is about how we behave and how we treat each other."~ Judith, "Miss Manners", Martin

Last week I flew up north and drove from the Oakland Airport to Richmond, CA on three different freeways and back that same day. Living in Southern California, I drive all of the time. I spend my driving time yelling at other drivers. Young children are banned from my car. I do not want to be the reason that any two year old repeats the word "fuck" to Granny over and over and then giggles at her outrage and shock.

Driving in the Bay area, isn't like that. The freeways are crowded and in bad shape. The challenges of driving in this area are legendary, at one point, I go East on the 80 and West on the 580 all at the same time. How is that even possible? Despite lost strangers, bad roads, and insane traffic, these are some of the politest drivers in the world.

These people do not act as if they are the only driver on the road. At no point, have I experienced that special form of driving created by the belief that "only I matter." You know those drivers. We've all experienced/been them. The driver who has plenty of space between you and the car behind you, but speeds up to cut you off. It isn't personal at all, but in the world she lives in, you are the lead car and she must pass you to win the race. The driver in a left turn lane who decides to turn right. The light turns green, and yep, he hits the gas and cuts across three lanes of traffic to make that right.

Then there is the "distracted driver". This is the person who screams about the woman next to him putting on mascara, but then tries to read the text message that just came in on his phone. What the? This behavior is not limited to teenagers. In fact, I've seen more men in their 30's and 40's who think that they are big dawgs doing this. Again it has to do with thinking that he or she is the only important person on the face of the planet. The only thing that matters is what he or she wants and/or needs. Who needs to read a text message on a freeway doing 75 miles an hour?

My car is the place that I practice the mantra, "I am where I am supposed to be." Too frequently, I use driving time as primal scream therapy time. I used to joke that it relaxed me. I now confess that it doesn't. I confess to driving without thought and acting as if the only person on the road that mattered was me. Of course, I never end up relaxed after those driving sessions.

I want to end all of my driving time calmly from now on. And as the only person I have any hope of changing, I am going to pledge right now to remember that everyone on the road with me is loved by someone. When I use my car as a way to prove that I am important, I put others in jeopardy, too. Nothing in my life is more important than that person who just cut me off going home to his kids that night.

Sure it would be nice if all other drivers suddenly remembered that they are NOT the only person who needs to be some where, who has over booked the crap out of her life, who needs to do forty-two things at one time. It would be nice, but courtesy means that I need to be courteous regardless of the behavior of others. So, I pledge to be in the moment when I am driving; to behave well no matter the actions of others. It just may be time that toddlers and the elderly can be in my car again.

Anyone else want to make this pledge too? Or do you have any stories about driving behavior that has shocked you? Your own or another driver on the road.

"Treat people as you would like to be treated.  Karma's only a bitch if you are." ~ Author Unknown

And It Begins.

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Goldilocks.  She  went for a walk in the forest.  Pretty soon, she came upon a house.  She knocked and, when no one answered, she walked right in."

I have been thinking about how often to blog ( –noun 1. a web site containing the writer's or group of writers' own experiences, observations, opinions, etc., and often having images and links to other Web sites. -verb (used without object) 2. to maintain or add new entries to a blog.) Am I the only person who dislikes circular definitions?

As well, I've wondered how long a blog should be. The consensus ( "How Long is...." and "How Many Words...." Two may not be a consensus, but I am limited in words.) is about 500 words with the caveat that any blog should be written to the subject and images should be added (crap!) There's that pesky learning  new skills requirement. Thank goodness for Blogger. It makes all of this easy. (See added image at the top)

I played with the idea of posting three times a week and then I remembered last week's schedule and cringed.

How do I figure out how many words this is? Am I too short? Too long? Or just enough? A little past the halfway mark. I copied and pasted into a word document and then let it count the words. I'll be able to save the blog, too, in case the cyber wonkies eat the post. This is technology and the one thing I have learned about technology is that bad things will happen. Motherboards die right before you back up everything. Viruses infect your machines and before you realize it, you've infected every thumb drive with all of your back up.

But wait, this is supposed to be about how often I'll post. I don't know. I know that I'll post at least once a week and maybe more. I may aim for three posts a week, and that may drive me crazy. Let's face it, I can already tell that this is going to be another thing I use to procrastinate from accomplishing my goal of finishing the blessed book. "Writing, writing every where and not a 'The End' in sight." (paraphrased from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner)

Having started with Goldilocks and the Three Bears, I'll finish with her, too. I don't feel like this yet, but I understand her motivation.

"Just then, Goldilocks woke up and saw the three bears.  She screamed, "Help!"  And she jumped up and ran out of the room.  Goldilocks ran down the stairs, opened the door, and ran away into the forest.  And she never returned to the home of the three bears."

(457 words plus these makes 461. Done 462. Good christ, shut up already, Maria. 468)

The First Time

This is my first ever public blog post and while I do have many, many opinions and am more than willing to share them all with you, this is more of a test post than anything else. If you're reading it, welcome, but something tells me that no one will be reading it because it is the first, and no one I know, knows that I am doing this.

This post is stealth blogging or as much as anything can be stealth in a public forum. It is stealthy in the sense of hiding in plain sight. Who reads blogs just to read them? I cannot even keep up with my friends' blogs, their posts on other people's blogs, and their cyber-book tours which is blog hopping with a purpose as far as I can tell.

You may ask why I am starting this with all of the cyber noise that exists out there already. The best answer would be because I am supposed to. I am an unpublished author and I am "supposed" to blog, Facebook and tweet. I am on Facebook and I've enjoyed finding old friends and reconnecting with my spread out family, but I am very opinionated and as a writer, I've been told that I shouldn't share those opinions that it may turn off readers. I am pretty sure that the blog will do that too because what do I have to write about but my opinions?

On the other hand, okay, there is no other hand. I am bound to offend people. I won't mean to, but I will. I am a strange combination of my bleeding heart, socialist, pinko mother, and my fascist, Rush Limbaugh fan father. I believe in teachers, and civil servants. I think capitalism at its best is an amoral system and should only be used as a tool and not worshiped as a guiding principle for life. I believe that what adults over the age of twenty-five do with their lives with other consenting adults is none of my business and my current guilty television watching pleasure is "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" season 3. Those women are better than a soap opera. Who knew that people like that really existed? I thought that they were exaggerated caricatures.

I'll be back. I need to figure out how often I'll be posting and what I'll be posting. This is just a test to see how it looks and what I can do. Oh, I did put it behind the "adults only" filter because of that whole opinionated thing and because I don't think sex is a bad thing. I don't understand why American culture is so open to violence and so freaked out about sex. I find films and stories about violence far more pornographic than say Playboy. The "Playboy" issue is another blog post for another day when I am feeling fat, ugly and worthless because I am not a skinny fully waxed eighteen year old with paid for stripper tits. I am sure that I'll be ranting on that another day.

The title of my blog is from Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and The Carpenter," from Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. I'll close this post with the last stanza of the poem:

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.