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 |  I've maxed out. Closed this blog. |
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This is a way of making myself write something coherent and grammatically correct almost every day. I'm opinionated and need an outlet. I'm also prone to flights of fancy. Thanks for stopping by. |
| For the second time in six months, I have seen one set of cousins and all their relatives from the other side of their family at a funeral home. Today it was my dad's brother-in-law we laid to rest, the last of his generation in his immediate family. My uncle's sister was there. She's got to be about 90. She has cancer; she didn't last summer. She's lost her hair and is wearing a wig. The cemetery was muddy and slushy, deep snow melting in the sun. It was the warmest day we have had in over a week. But it will freeze again tonight and be cold again tomorrow. Several men helped my dad who walks with a cane and several other old people. The service was in the funeral home which is near the cemetery. It's a small town on the James River. It's very quaint but frequently floods. The meal afterward was in the church which is really out in the sticks. We had already driven half an hour in the country to get that far. We went home from the cemetery. The preacher is an independent (no strict creed) and likes to perform. He shouts a lot and plays his guitar as he is led. He changes the tune even when he asks the crowd to join in. I guess before the radio, people like him were in great demand. He sounded awful, yet there was something kind of ancient and down to earth about him and his screeching. He thinks he's good. And a lot of people like him. But he celebrated my uncle's life, and that's what counts. He made it joyful, not sad. Funerals are not for the dead. They are for the living. They are meant to help the mourners keep going. They are meant for all of us who are contemplating our own mortality, to remind us that all life counts, that no matter how it may feel from time to time, we have not lived in vain. We are all in this struggle together and could treasure every moment of it. |
| I finally finished The Fault In Our Stars. It's a terrific book. I love books where the characters mean something to me. When teenage Augustus died, I cried like it was real. I got into Nicholas Sparks' A Walk To Remember and Fannie Flagg's Standing In the Rainbow like that. I felt invested in the characters of all 3 books. At the end of each, I wanted more, like I had lost dear friends. The Fault In Our Stars is about teenagers with cancer, but it's not really about the cancer. It's a teenage story where the kids happen to have cancer and have to deal with it. It's about life and death which all of us must deal with at one time or another. We lose people we love. We get sick; we get old; we get hurt. We wonder about the meaning of life, why we are here, what happens when this existence ends. We want to leave some imprint on the world, to feel like we live on in some way. Any age can relate to the issues that plague these very bright young people. Two of them make a journey to Amsterdam and visit the Anne Frank museum. They actually are a lot like her. She died at a young age because of war and racism, but also was very bright, questioned the meaning of life and knew her impending doom. They read Shakespearean sonnets and question immortality. They become obsessed with a book they read about a teenage girl who dies. The book ends when the girl dies and they don't know what happens to everyone in the story, including the hamster. It becomes obvious they obsess about this piece of fiction because that if much on their minds in their lives. What will happen to the people who love them when they are gone? What will happen to their pets? Their friends? Hazel read that 50% of most couples get a divorce after the loss of a child, so she worries about her parents. These characters know they've been dealt a shoddy hand, but they are not bitter with the world or with fate or God. They accept their condition, and worry about others. They are loving, decent kids who balk at lectures from people who don't have cancer, hate platitudes and the misuse of the word "literally". It's not an easy book for people who want everything to work out in a story. In this one, you know there will be no miracles. Be prepared for everyday reality with a lot of thought provoking questions. |
| Boy, has it been cold this week! Minus three last night. Brr. Usually, winter is not bad for me. I go from the house to the car, from the car to a building, no big deal. A walk to the mail box or feeding the birds or shoveling snow (when you work up your own heat) is not bad either. For the previous three years, the coldest I got was waiting at a bus stop. Now the bus route has changed, so I changed my routine. It involves walking 6 blocks to a different bus stop, waiting for a bus that might be late, then another walk to my building. Reverse in the afternoon, with the length of waiting on the bus depending on the time I actually get to leave the office. So I've learned to dress like an Eskimo and not care how I look. Two scarves around my neck, a sleeveless fleece vest over my short coat, two pairs of gloves. I haven't bundled up like this in decades. Maybe getting older makes us cold faster. The second scarf is a pashmina which I drape over the back of may head and pull up over my chin. The really cold air, like 10 degrees and below makes my sinuses hurt, but I have to be able to see. The eye doctor told me I have to use UV sunglasses, so my breath fogs up the glasses. I'm sure I look ridiculous. My legs get cold despite the knee socks and long pants, my face hurts, and my hands and forearms still get cold. The ground is frozen; there are still piles of snow frozen with street slime piled up 4 days ago. A new winter storm is expected tomorrow through Sunday morning. It will melt next week, if predictions hold true. But I'm staying in this weekend. I have hot tea and a stack of books. Next winter I will have a new coat and pants that aren't worn from laundering and new socks. Right now, I'm planning spring shopping. |
| I read an older book by Arthur Hailey, the same guy who wrote Hotel and Airport. It's called Strong Medicine and takes a deep look at the pharmaceutical industry from the late 50's to the mid 80's through the life of a female employee.It's very detailed and educational. I imagine a lot of research went into the writing. The protagonist is is the perfect woman, the one idealized by the "woman's movement". She starts out as a beautiful (what else) college graduate working as a "detail" person for a big pharmaceutical. She calls on doctor's to push her wares and give free samples. She meets a single doctor, about ten years older, handsome, dedicated to his job and patients, who hates prescribing unnecessary drugs. He doesn't like detail people, but she's determined and after demonstrating she's knowledgeable and gives a drug that actually helps his patient, she asserts herself on him as well. They fall madly in love and stay together through the raising of two wonderfully bright and successful children. Her personal life and career thrive. A beautiful love story, where the woman rises to the top of her company through hard work and diligence, she remains beautiful as she ages, the husband remains successful, handsome, and faithful, right? Right. There are troubles along the way with the business, some early prejudice against her in a man's job, but no problems with her marriage or her kids or home. She's a little too perfect for my tastes. Her life is just a little too charmed. They just keep getting richer and more spoiled. The one wrong thing she does is to cheat on her perfectly understanding, patient, supportive, handsome husband. And she gets away with it. She never pays for it with a moment of guilt or anything. Now how is that for the perfect woman with the perfect life? Have your cake and eat it, too. Everyone else who does anything a little shady in the book pays for it in big ways. The moral of the story, if there is one, is that, yes, big pharma makes mistakes and a lot of money. It puts out drugs occasionally that do a lot of damage. They keep you on drugs you don't need (with the help of doctors), and sell over the counter things that only help you emotionally, not physically. But then they also provide life saving drugs and break-throughs that improve the quality of living, like blood pressure pills and meds for aging mentally or stop the flu, shingles, or polio, and so forth. The benefits have outweighed the negatives. And the pharmaceuticals, which are heavily regulated, are dependent on the physicians and patients themselves to be ethical and practice self-control and healthy lifestyles. |
| Hooray, for Keanu Reeves who gave up his seat on the bus for a woman with a lot to carry. I'm a bit of a feminist, but I love chivalry. I do things for older people myself, or pregnant women, or anyone who needs a little help. I think it's great that men look out for others, I especially like seeing teenage boys being nice to women of all ages. Chivalry doesn't show that women are weak, but that men are strong. Maybe if there were more men practicing chivalry, we wouldn't need 50 bullying shades of gray in our culture. As for the Gray thing, I'm tired of hearing about this trash. The books have made quite a stir, now this movie is grossing a lot, despite critics panning it. When do women get equal time bullying men in the movies? Would any but a few think female dominance was sexy? My idea of 50 shades of gray is a senior citizen bus trip. (Or the OurTime.Com website.) I'm actually enjoying a week with no TV. I'm rediscovering creative things. I should do it more often. |
| Winter let us know she was really here, and dumped snow on us, with some sleet, and a lot of cold wind and low temps. We didn't lose power here, and the trees didn't ice up like some of the pictures I've seen elsewhere. But it's going to be below 5 degrees at night all week, even negative one night, with another 3-5 inches on Saturday. People who love the stuff don't go to work or school, and can play in it, or stay inside and look out the windows at it. The rest of us have to drive or catch a bus when it runs. But our streets were in pretty good condition by mid-afternoon in this sun, with a high of 27. The hill where I live never dried up, so it will freeze over tonight. Could be messier tomorrow. We had a severe shortage of workers today. I arrived 50 minutes late. I have a shoulder injury and couldn't help much with shoveling to leave my own driveway. My helper is in his 80's, so it took a while. (Yes, I let my father shovel snow. He worked in it all day while I was gone.) My boss made a big deal about me making it in while all the slackers stayed home. He stayed in a hotel across from the hospital last night and could walk in this morning. They won't pay people sick leave or vacation pay for snow days. They have to pay overtime for others to fill in all the shifts. I had to fill in for the office manager and babysit the boss. I had to arrange the hotel room and his lunch yesterday, and lunch service for two groups today. They also rewarded all the employees who showed up today, who didn't attend the luncheons, with meal tickets for the cafeteria. They wanted to show appreciation for just coming in. That was a nice gesture, and a positive reinforcement. But my work was easier than my usual load. Everyone was more relaxed and more casually dressed than usual. So it wasn't a bad day to work, with no problems going or coming. It was worth not staying home. |
| There's just too much going on in the world. It's depressing. The horror, the violence, the insanity, the blood-thirst. It's appalling. What's even more appalling is the lack of moral repulsion from all sides, the lack of leadership to prevent this, the lack of moral outrage form religious groups including Muslim groups. From riots in the streets, looting, personal assaults, assassinations, be-headings, and so much more, our daily concerns seem trite. It makes you want to go into a cocoon so you don't have to hear about it. We live in stressful times, scary times. Our population is heavy laden with cares. Even though we may not know individuals involved, our hearts ache for those people in other towns, other countries--those families who've lost loved ones, whose daughters have been kidnapped, whose family members have been savagely slaughtered. It must be the never ending struggle of the earth. The world cries out for peace, but mankind grows more cruel and more savage. For all our enlightenment and our technological advances, we are still cavemen. Only now, we know about what happens everywhere through advanced communication systems. We can't escape the dreary reality. |
| A local radio station started a book club this month. I signed up, thinking I want to know what the local community is reading and discussing. Not many others signed up. We're talking about 5 counties and a college town. So far no one has answered the questions set up by a librarian. I just got a copy of the book yesterday, so I want to read more before attempting to discuss it. The first book is The Fault In Our Stars, by John Green. Green was a chaplain to children who have cancer, and their families for six months. He decided from that experience to become a writer, and did not become clergy as planned. He knows the terminology and tells a good story so far. I like the characters and want to read more. I'm only about 40% through my e-book. He uses not only a lot of medical terms, but a lot of $5 words. He explains some of them, since the main characters are teenagers, and they ask each other. What surprises me is how little editing was done for grammar and word choices. It was made into a movie last summer, so one would expect later editions to have been corrected. For example there is no such word as "enthused" as an adjective or a verb, which is how he used it. The word "loan" was used when he meant "lent". He wrote about public art, where arcs of steel "imagined". Arcs are not living things with minds. They can't imagine anything. He should have said "Imaged". Granted they don't hurt the story, but many people will be like me and trip over things like these. They distract from the smooth flow of the story. Green is well-educated. We really can't make excuses, but where was his editor? I've also discovered that it has been the object of a lot of ridicule and parody. It's about two teenagers who are dying. Why does anyone think that's funny? I haven't seen the movie. Maybe it was a poorly made movie, and they only mean to ridicule the movie makers, but it sure comes across like they're ridiculing sick people. Apparently, there are a lot of deviant, self-infatuated people who have no compassion. When they encounter troubles in life, do they expect to be treated with sympathy, or are they prepared to be treated crudely and judged on their looks while undergoing chemo? It seems like tender-heartedness or sentimentality brings out the worst in some people, shallow people. Maybe they fear the vulnerability, or death itself, so they strike out however they can. That's too bad. |
| There's a winter storm raging outside. The wind is howling. I'm prepared for a power outage. But the worst of all scenarios has happened. The TV died in the middle of Jeopardy. I'm missing my favorite shows of the week. The big screen TV downstairs is working, but that's reserved for sports events and news shows when my dad is home, or maybe a Clint Eastwood movie. Since I can't watch TV tonight, I will talk about a movie I saw several days ago on TCM or ACM. It's a black and white film from 1946, based on a Hemingway story, The Killers. It launched the career of Burt Lancaster. It was a minor role; he had little screen time. He was seen mostly through flashbacks. But what a good-looking young man he was. The femme fatale was Ava Gardner; she was young, too. The only other name I recognized was William Conrad, one of the killers. It's said that Hemingway claimed to have liked this film version of his story better than other films of other stories, and that he even had a copy to watch at home. That was something in the 40's, considering there were no DVD's or cassettes. The assassins were only minor characters. They were hired by a criminal to get rid of inconvenient criminals. The characters who pieced together the puzzle and bring all the criminals, except the killers, to justice were an insurance investigator and police detective. It was a very good film. The film was remade under the same name in 1964, starring Lee Marvin and Clu Gulager as the assassins. This time they had a major role and replaced the investigator and detective in solving the puzzle. The key criminal was played by Ronald Reagan. The mistress of RR was Angie Dickinson, but in this version she is brutalized and terrified by the killers. So this version drifts further away from Hemingway's story, and is a rougher. It must be time for another remake. Good films usually make it around several times. I wonder if they return to a closer version of the story or get a little rougher still. |
| I saw a wonderful movie last night about the life of Dr. Ben Carson. It tells the story of how a young boy in poverty with no father, addicted to TV, overcame all the obstacles to learn, to work and achieve. By the end of the movie, people all over the world are coming to see him for help. It's a wonderful story for families to see, for young children to be inspired, for all people of all ages to aspire to something more. One of the heart-breaking moments comes when he wins a spelling bee after turning his study habits around. Yes, that should be a moment of triumph and victory. But instead of being hailed for his achievement, a teacher reprimands the entire student body for being lazy. Other teachers looked embarrassed but no one spoke up for him. It was as though she said to everyone that the only reason he excelled was not because of hard work and diligence, but because the others were lazy. If only "they". the children of privilege, with fathers in the home, had applied themselves, he couldn't possibly have won. Again, as a young intern at John Hopkins, he again met with prejudice, where some assumed the black man in scrubs must be an orderly (shows the times; there are no orderlies any more), or teaching doctors verbally assaulted him directly. making sure he saw no special favors. He rose above it, keeping his promises to his mother and to Jesus. He never gave up. Today he is one of the world's leading pediatric neurosurgeons. He is outspoken politically, too, but that isn't touched in the movie. It's worth watching if you can catch the rerun. See it with your children or grandchildren, ten and older. It opens doors for discussion and shows a child can decide what his fate will be. |
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