I watched with interest yesterday's congressional grilling of AIG Chairman Edward Liddy by Congress. He had been called in so that our congressmen could show their mock outrage at the fact that AIG had gone ahead and paid out retention bonuses to AIG employees despite the fact that it had received billions of dollars in bailout money.
I hesitated to watch, sensing in advance the huge cringe factor that would be involved in seeing all of these congressmen with their prepared statements of outrage, step up to the microphone for their 5 minutes of tv time. But I had read about Liddy, the 63 year old retired businessman, former President and CEO of Allstate, who was called out of retirement last September to step in and "fix" the mess which is AIG. With 38 years of business experience (and a salary of $1) I was interested to see how he would respond to what would inevitably be a barrage of insults and intellectually flimsy allegations by the congressmen. Let me preface by saying that I have no doubt that there were reasonable and substantial questions that could have been asked of Mr. Liddy. Unfortunately, this didn't happen, with a few minor exceptions.
Liddy began with a statement that basically explained that the bonuses that were paid out were all retention bonuses (as opposed to performance bonuses) and that AIG was contractually bound under law to go ahead and pay these. He added that had he been running the company during the time the bonus program was structured, he would not have approved this, but since it was formerly established, the decision had been made that "not paying them would create too much risk" of the company imploding, thus causing more pain to the American tax payer. He added that all decisions had been agreed upon by the Federal Reserve, and that he had been assured that the Treasury (including Geithner) had also been kept in the loop.
As he finished his brief statement, one could see the congressmen, eyes glazed by a lack of understanding, scribbling furiously to amend their notes. One by one, they either asked inept questions of Liddy or made trite proclamations. Rep. Hodes of N.H. said "AIG stood for arrogance, incompetence and greed." I had to turn my head at this point. How long had he worked on that nonsensical tidbit? What good did that do anyone? In front of him stood an intelligent, articulate man who had courageously stepped up to the plate in order to "serve his country" by stepping back in to a cesspool of a company. It was obvious that he was doing his best to make very complicated decisions that were not popular or politically-driven, but long-range efforts to clean up a mess. The one intelligent question that was asked (and I wish I could remember who asked it because he was a lone ranger) was why AIG couldn't decide to break the contracts, not pay the bonuses and dare the recipients to sue. I'm not an attorney, so I don't know the answer to that one. Mr. Liddy's stock response was that there was too much risk involved. He didn't specify if the risk was in losing the employees or being subject to legal ramifications.
In my very lay-person understanding of all of this, it seems that were are in very real danger of developing long-term policies to fit short-term political objectives. We now have a team of congressmen suggesting that "Wall Street pay be tied to long-term performance of firms." I think the better idea is one that was put forward in the Wall Street Journal. Let's tie the pay of the congressmen and legislators to their approval ratings...A 50% approval rating would mean 100% salary, 40% would bring 80% salary, and ....well, you get the picture.
Machiavelli's The Prince (2 references to this in 2 weeks...how surreal?) said that "Lofty ideas lead to bad government." Ayn Rand predicted (in Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged) that we were headed towards inevitable economic disaster if we continued on a path towards socialism and a welfare state. Mr. Obama and team might be wise to study the past in order to save the future.
I've been trying to refrain the last few weeks from making any overtly political statements. I naively hope that despite my deep-seated fears, the Obama team will rally and produce results. I am not going to be like Rush Limbaugh and root for defeat, but it is also getting harder and harder to stand by quietly and cross my fingers...
So until tomorrow...when the weekend is in view, and I am not as serious....
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
This and That
It's a busy morning here today. There are articles to be finished and novels to be written, so I will set my timer for only 17 minutes today. We'll call this a mini-blog. Since time is of the essence, I will use the mini-blog to clear up some random issues and respond to some comments on previous blogs. My apologies to those who haven't read any blogs the past few weeks. You'll be lost in some of the references, but bear with me.
1) As discussed last week, Matt had to pull of an A or B on his science test in order to watch "24" on Monday night. I knew before he even got in the car after school that this had not been accomplished. As he climbed into the car, he told me about 4 other grades that he had gotten back that day...all A's. But no mention of the science test. So I asked. He mumbled that he had missed the B by 3 points. I felt so bad for him, but I kept up a tough front. He asked if we could negotiate another consequence, but I told him I would lose my credibility if I did that. By 8:30 that evening we were both miserable. I began to think I had punished myself as much as him. At 8:45, I asked Tony if 3 nights of earlier bedtime and no weekly allowance would be a fair trade. He said "Do what you gotta do." So I caved and made the deal. Matt got to watch his beloved "24" and I got to enjoy it with him. I'm proud to say that I followed through on the earlier bedtime last night even though he had to turn off the Hawks game with 5 minutes to go...
2) Tony is miffed at me for taking what he called "too much artistic license" with the beach blog about our "house guests" , so let me clear things up. I will own up to changing the facts a little bit. "Peers" was not actually a small Mexican man, but rather a small Romanian man. He did not actually murmur " Buenos Dias" to me in the kitchen, but rather something in his own language (what does one speak in Romania?) which I did not understand. I assumed he was saying "Good Morning" due to the time and circumstances. I could have been wrong. He might have been saying "You must really be surprised to see a small Romanian man in your kitchen this time of day." We'll never know, will we?
Tony also feels that I "fudged" on the true distance that Camden was standing from us as I was being told about his overnight accommodations. He claims he was at least 12 feet away. I still feel my original guess of 4 ft. is correct, but let's meet in the middle and say 8. Again, I am not sure how this changes the true thread of meaning behind the story, but if it makes Tony feel better...then there you go.
3) NCAA final 4 picks...these are totally personal: North Carolina, Clemson, Tennessee and West Virginia...I haven't decided on a winner yet.
4) American Idol. I think that guy Chris is amazing. I loved the Garth Brooks song he did last night. It was "Just to Feel my Love". I remember it from that movie "Hope Floats." He is my "closet pick" because Gabrielle likes Megan and Matt likes Chris, so I would be seen as taking sides if I voiced my support for Chris. My "cover" pick is Matt, who looks so much like Justin Timberlake.
I hated Adam's version of the Johnny Cash song. Really creepy. (Sorry Rachel) I'm sure that is some sort of cool gene I am missing.
5) Gabrielle had softball practice last night. The following were the best lines overheard during practice:
Coach: Lindy, you're throwing like a girl!
Lindy: I am a girl.
Coach: Jessie, what the heck are you doing? (Jessie is standing with 2 feet on second base)
Jessie" You told me to "cover the bag."
Coach: Annie, what do you do if the ball is hit towards you?
Annie: Try to get out of the way.
The names have been changed to protect the truly innocent. I admired the coach's patience. I could tell he wanted to throw his cap on the ground in frustration, but he kept his composure. I had to cover my face because I was laughing so hard.
6) On a final note, and at the risk of sounding like a gossip column, I hated hearing about the skiing accident that Natasha Richardson had yesterday. I'm hoping that the reports of her being close to death are exaggerated. She feels like a member of the family because we watch "Parent Trap" about 3 times a month in our house. Gabrielle always tells me I look like her. I'm saying my prayers that she will be ok.
That's it for today. Short and not very meaningful. So until tomorrow, when 32 minutes will allow me time to be more interesting....
1) As discussed last week, Matt had to pull of an A or B on his science test in order to watch "24" on Monday night. I knew before he even got in the car after school that this had not been accomplished. As he climbed into the car, he told me about 4 other grades that he had gotten back that day...all A's. But no mention of the science test. So I asked. He mumbled that he had missed the B by 3 points. I felt so bad for him, but I kept up a tough front. He asked if we could negotiate another consequence, but I told him I would lose my credibility if I did that. By 8:30 that evening we were both miserable. I began to think I had punished myself as much as him. At 8:45, I asked Tony if 3 nights of earlier bedtime and no weekly allowance would be a fair trade. He said "Do what you gotta do." So I caved and made the deal. Matt got to watch his beloved "24" and I got to enjoy it with him. I'm proud to say that I followed through on the earlier bedtime last night even though he had to turn off the Hawks game with 5 minutes to go...
2) Tony is miffed at me for taking what he called "too much artistic license" with the beach blog about our "house guests" , so let me clear things up. I will own up to changing the facts a little bit. "Peers" was not actually a small Mexican man, but rather a small Romanian man. He did not actually murmur " Buenos Dias" to me in the kitchen, but rather something in his own language (what does one speak in Romania?) which I did not understand. I assumed he was saying "Good Morning" due to the time and circumstances. I could have been wrong. He might have been saying "You must really be surprised to see a small Romanian man in your kitchen this time of day." We'll never know, will we?
Tony also feels that I "fudged" on the true distance that Camden was standing from us as I was being told about his overnight accommodations. He claims he was at least 12 feet away. I still feel my original guess of 4 ft. is correct, but let's meet in the middle and say 8. Again, I am not sure how this changes the true thread of meaning behind the story, but if it makes Tony feel better...then there you go.
3) NCAA final 4 picks...these are totally personal: North Carolina, Clemson, Tennessee and West Virginia...I haven't decided on a winner yet.
4) American Idol. I think that guy Chris is amazing. I loved the Garth Brooks song he did last night. It was "Just to Feel my Love". I remember it from that movie "Hope Floats." He is my "closet pick" because Gabrielle likes Megan and Matt likes Chris, so I would be seen as taking sides if I voiced my support for Chris. My "cover" pick is Matt, who looks so much like Justin Timberlake.
I hated Adam's version of the Johnny Cash song. Really creepy. (Sorry Rachel) I'm sure that is some sort of cool gene I am missing.
5) Gabrielle had softball practice last night. The following were the best lines overheard during practice:
Coach: Lindy, you're throwing like a girl!
Lindy: I am a girl.
Coach: Jessie, what the heck are you doing? (Jessie is standing with 2 feet on second base)
Jessie" You told me to "cover the bag."
Coach: Annie, what do you do if the ball is hit towards you?
Annie: Try to get out of the way.
The names have been changed to protect the truly innocent. I admired the coach's patience. I could tell he wanted to throw his cap on the ground in frustration, but he kept his composure. I had to cover my face because I was laughing so hard.
6) On a final note, and at the risk of sounding like a gossip column, I hated hearing about the skiing accident that Natasha Richardson had yesterday. I'm hoping that the reports of her being close to death are exaggerated. She feels like a member of the family because we watch "Parent Trap" about 3 times a month in our house. Gabrielle always tells me I look like her. I'm saying my prayers that she will be ok.
That's it for today. Short and not very meaningful. So until tomorrow, when 32 minutes will allow me time to be more interesting....
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Even Our Misfortunes are part of Our Belongings
It hasn't been a great morning. I do everything I can to avoid saying that "s" word, because I think it is overused these days, but today there is just no way around it. (Just as a side note, Matt would assume I was going to say "shut up" and Tony would assume I was going to say "shit") "Stressful" is the only way to describe it.
My daughter Gabrielle wears hearing aids, and this morning the left one doesn't work. If you don't know her well, you would probably not notice. She goes to great lengths to hide them with her hair, and even greater lengths to hide them from me in the mornings in the hopes I will forget about them and she won't have to wear them. The first thing I do every morning after making my coffee is to test those hearing aids. Then I lay them out by my keys so that I don't forget to help her put them in. Some mornings she fools me and hides them behind my coffee maker. I'll find them there about mid-way through the morning and then have to head to the school to put them in.
Gabrielle has moderate hearing loss in her left ear and mild-to-moderate in her right. It is sensorineural loss, which means it is irreversible. It can not get better, but it might get worse.
She was not properly diagnosed until she was almost 4 years old, so the repercussions have made her life very difficult in some ways. When she was born in 1999, there was no mandatory hearing test for newborns. Ironically, 6 months later a law was passed requiring this test. If Gabrielle had been tested at birth, her short life thus far would have been made so much easier. But because hearing loss (not deafness) is difficult to diagnose, she has been though an inordinate amount of testing and false diagnosis. The result of all of this is that she has a limited vocabulary and a sometimes limited knowledge of things you would assume a 9 year old would know. A good example would be Christmas songs. If you ask her to sing "Jingle Bells", the chances are the lyrics would be all wrong. She sings it the way she heard it before she got her hearing aids. With her hearing aids, she hears much better, but not perfectly. She still misses sounds and word endings. The first time her audiologist played me a recording of how she actually heard sounds, I cried. Until you can actually hear what she hears in her "world", it is hard to understand how it affects her on a day-today basis.
Most people in their life have a few "Aha" moments, as Oprah would put it, that include memories that are forever etched in their mind. Those would usually include happy moments like a marriage or graduation, or some sort of achievement. My "Aha" moment was the minute Gabrielle's hearing specialist doctor came in after surgery to tell me that it was not the fluid in her ears that was causing the loss. We had both crossed our fingers hoping that the fluid was the issue. I can clearly remember him sitting down and saying "I'm sorry. This is not what I wanted to tell you." I can remember everything about that moment because I knew that her life was going to involve a struggle that I had no control over.
The hearing aids are now a daily part of her life and she has does a terrific job of coping with all that comes with it. She pulls out the aids the minute school is over because they magnify every sound, and it literally exhausts her. Because she doesn't wear them 24/7, she still gets names and words wrong, but she has a good sense of humor about it. Yesterday in my blog, I said that she called a guy name Camden, "Camel". When Matt pointed this out to her, they both had a good laugh. Every week when we watch American Idol, she sits by me and says after every song: "Well it sounded good to me, but how was it really?" As a mother, my heart breaks a little bit every time this happens. But I am also proud that she has learned to deal with it in such a light-hearted way.
So after attempting some "surgery" of my own on the hearing aid, and failing, I am off on a journey to get them fixed. Who knows what Gabrielle will miss today? At least I know she is happy just having to wear one. I'll bet she even throws her hair in a side ponytail during P.E.
class...
Until tomorrow, when hopefully everyone will be hearing things a little more clearly....
My daughter Gabrielle wears hearing aids, and this morning the left one doesn't work. If you don't know her well, you would probably not notice. She goes to great lengths to hide them with her hair, and even greater lengths to hide them from me in the mornings in the hopes I will forget about them and she won't have to wear them. The first thing I do every morning after making my coffee is to test those hearing aids. Then I lay them out by my keys so that I don't forget to help her put them in. Some mornings she fools me and hides them behind my coffee maker. I'll find them there about mid-way through the morning and then have to head to the school to put them in.
Gabrielle has moderate hearing loss in her left ear and mild-to-moderate in her right. It is sensorineural loss, which means it is irreversible. It can not get better, but it might get worse.
She was not properly diagnosed until she was almost 4 years old, so the repercussions have made her life very difficult in some ways. When she was born in 1999, there was no mandatory hearing test for newborns. Ironically, 6 months later a law was passed requiring this test. If Gabrielle had been tested at birth, her short life thus far would have been made so much easier. But because hearing loss (not deafness) is difficult to diagnose, she has been though an inordinate amount of testing and false diagnosis. The result of all of this is that she has a limited vocabulary and a sometimes limited knowledge of things you would assume a 9 year old would know. A good example would be Christmas songs. If you ask her to sing "Jingle Bells", the chances are the lyrics would be all wrong. She sings it the way she heard it before she got her hearing aids. With her hearing aids, she hears much better, but not perfectly. She still misses sounds and word endings. The first time her audiologist played me a recording of how she actually heard sounds, I cried. Until you can actually hear what she hears in her "world", it is hard to understand how it affects her on a day-today basis.
Most people in their life have a few "Aha" moments, as Oprah would put it, that include memories that are forever etched in their mind. Those would usually include happy moments like a marriage or graduation, or some sort of achievement. My "Aha" moment was the minute Gabrielle's hearing specialist doctor came in after surgery to tell me that it was not the fluid in her ears that was causing the loss. We had both crossed our fingers hoping that the fluid was the issue. I can clearly remember him sitting down and saying "I'm sorry. This is not what I wanted to tell you." I can remember everything about that moment because I knew that her life was going to involve a struggle that I had no control over.
The hearing aids are now a daily part of her life and she has does a terrific job of coping with all that comes with it. She pulls out the aids the minute school is over because they magnify every sound, and it literally exhausts her. Because she doesn't wear them 24/7, she still gets names and words wrong, but she has a good sense of humor about it. Yesterday in my blog, I said that she called a guy name Camden, "Camel". When Matt pointed this out to her, they both had a good laugh. Every week when we watch American Idol, she sits by me and says after every song: "Well it sounded good to me, but how was it really?" As a mother, my heart breaks a little bit every time this happens. But I am also proud that she has learned to deal with it in such a light-hearted way.
So after attempting some "surgery" of my own on the hearing aid, and failing, I am off on a journey to get them fixed. Who knows what Gabrielle will miss today? At least I know she is happy just having to wear one. I'll bet she even throws her hair in a side ponytail during P.E.
class...
Until tomorrow, when hopefully everyone will be hearing things a little more clearly....
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Expect the Best, Prepare for the Worst, and Learn to be Surprised
So we're back from the beach. Back to work, back to school, back to the beloved routine. But there is a little unfinished beach business which has to be discussed...
While at the beach, we were staying at what we consider to be our "family" condo. This is where we go to get away. We have several other units that we rent, but this one is for family or friend rental only. A few days before we left, Tony began to drop some hints that one of the nearby units needed some new floors and he was thinking of bringing down one of his workers to start on it. I didn't give it much thought, but I told him it sounded like a good plan to me. On our way in the car last Saturday, he mentioned that Camden (his worker) would be coming on Monday. I asked where he would stay, and he mumbled something about "no big deal, figure something out". Again, I didn't give it any thought.
Monday rolls around and Camden arrives. I've never met him before, but we all go to lunch together and have a nice time. The kids love him, Matt treats him like a big brother, and Gabrielle calls him "Camel" (which is the subject for a different blog). After lunch, Tony pulls me aside and asks me what I think of him. "Very nice." I replied. "So you're comfortable with him?" "Sure" I said, not sensing where the conversation was going. "Good, because I think it makes sense for him to stay with us. I mean, he's going to be working the whole time anyway." Oh, ok. Now look, this is how Tony always works me. He phrases things so that if I disagree with him, I sound like a mean person. And he knows that I do not like to be mean. Camden is standing literally 4 feet away, so not only can I not have a true reaction, but I can't even ask any questions...just how Tony likes it.
So Camden "moves in" for the week. No big deal. There are 4 bedrooms, Matt and Gabrielle sleep together most of the time anyway, so it's not like we are on top of each other. The next morning, I hear the front door open and close, so I get up and tip toe out of my room. I peek out the window and see that Camden has left to go to work, so I relax. No need to change my nightgown or brush my hair. I go over and start to make a cup of coffee, when suddenly I am startled by a door opening. I look up so see a small Mexican man coming out of the room across from Camden's room. He smiles at me, murmurs "Buenos dias" and walks across the room and out the door. Once again, there are many reactions I could have had. I could have screamed, because it would probably scare most people to have a small Mexican man appear in their house. But if I screamed, I would wake up the kids, and that would be tragic to give up an hour of free time on vacation. I could have asked who he was and why he was there, but it seemed rude at the time. (In addition to the fact that he obviously did not speak English.) I could have gone in and asked Tony, but I had a feeling this would not surprise him, and we might have to have a "discussion". So I just decided to let it ride. Workers, small Mexican men...what might be behind door number 3?
Let me clarify something here. I am generally very shy and reserved, and Tony is usually semi-respectful of this. In the past when he has invited work-related people to stay with us, he has always given me the "right of refusal" first. In other words, he asks if I am comfortable enough with someone to have them stay. What has to be taken into consideration with Tony is that he will probably be on his own agenda and feel no responsibility to be "host" to whomever is there. This task usually falls on me, so I take that "right of refusal" very seriously. Now I'm not saying I would have exercised the "right" this time, but the difference was all to do with timing, being put on the spot, and of course, not speaking Spanish.
As it turned out, I met "Peers" later in the day. He was a very sweet man and he was helping Camden do some very difficult work. I only saw him a couple of times the rest of the trip since he was there to work. In the end, I tried to explain to Tony that it is always better to get a heads up on this sort of thing. I mean, I can always make adjustments, but if I'd known that we were having "company" I might have made some different wardrobe choices. You know, left the little nightie at home, or at least thrown in a robe.
Now that I am home, I am able to laugh at this. Our vacations have always been filled with excitement, adventure and turmoil. But that is a subject for another day and another blog.
So until tomorrow...because tomorrow is always my busiest day of the week...
While at the beach, we were staying at what we consider to be our "family" condo. This is where we go to get away. We have several other units that we rent, but this one is for family or friend rental only. A few days before we left, Tony began to drop some hints that one of the nearby units needed some new floors and he was thinking of bringing down one of his workers to start on it. I didn't give it much thought, but I told him it sounded like a good plan to me. On our way in the car last Saturday, he mentioned that Camden (his worker) would be coming on Monday. I asked where he would stay, and he mumbled something about "no big deal, figure something out". Again, I didn't give it any thought.
Monday rolls around and Camden arrives. I've never met him before, but we all go to lunch together and have a nice time. The kids love him, Matt treats him like a big brother, and Gabrielle calls him "Camel" (which is the subject for a different blog). After lunch, Tony pulls me aside and asks me what I think of him. "Very nice." I replied. "So you're comfortable with him?" "Sure" I said, not sensing where the conversation was going. "Good, because I think it makes sense for him to stay with us. I mean, he's going to be working the whole time anyway." Oh, ok. Now look, this is how Tony always works me. He phrases things so that if I disagree with him, I sound like a mean person. And he knows that I do not like to be mean. Camden is standing literally 4 feet away, so not only can I not have a true reaction, but I can't even ask any questions...just how Tony likes it.
So Camden "moves in" for the week. No big deal. There are 4 bedrooms, Matt and Gabrielle sleep together most of the time anyway, so it's not like we are on top of each other. The next morning, I hear the front door open and close, so I get up and tip toe out of my room. I peek out the window and see that Camden has left to go to work, so I relax. No need to change my nightgown or brush my hair. I go over and start to make a cup of coffee, when suddenly I am startled by a door opening. I look up so see a small Mexican man coming out of the room across from Camden's room. He smiles at me, murmurs "Buenos dias" and walks across the room and out the door. Once again, there are many reactions I could have had. I could have screamed, because it would probably scare most people to have a small Mexican man appear in their house. But if I screamed, I would wake up the kids, and that would be tragic to give up an hour of free time on vacation. I could have asked who he was and why he was there, but it seemed rude at the time. (In addition to the fact that he obviously did not speak English.) I could have gone in and asked Tony, but I had a feeling this would not surprise him, and we might have to have a "discussion". So I just decided to let it ride. Workers, small Mexican men...what might be behind door number 3?
Let me clarify something here. I am generally very shy and reserved, and Tony is usually semi-respectful of this. In the past when he has invited work-related people to stay with us, he has always given me the "right of refusal" first. In other words, he asks if I am comfortable enough with someone to have them stay. What has to be taken into consideration with Tony is that he will probably be on his own agenda and feel no responsibility to be "host" to whomever is there. This task usually falls on me, so I take that "right of refusal" very seriously. Now I'm not saying I would have exercised the "right" this time, but the difference was all to do with timing, being put on the spot, and of course, not speaking Spanish.
As it turned out, I met "Peers" later in the day. He was a very sweet man and he was helping Camden do some very difficult work. I only saw him a couple of times the rest of the trip since he was there to work. In the end, I tried to explain to Tony that it is always better to get a heads up on this sort of thing. I mean, I can always make adjustments, but if I'd known that we were having "company" I might have made some different wardrobe choices. You know, left the little nightie at home, or at least thrown in a robe.
Now that I am home, I am able to laugh at this. Our vacations have always been filled with excitement, adventure and turmoil. But that is a subject for another day and another blog.
So until tomorrow...because tomorrow is always my busiest day of the week...
Friday, March 13, 2009
It's All about Lessons Learned
Vacation is winding down. It's been a lovely week. The weather could not have been better. I am in grateful mode today. I said to Tony this morning, with a sigh, "Back to the routine." And he smiled and said, "Yes, but that is good, because you love your routine." And he is right. I create a routine where ever I go. My days are structured and planned, and this is how I like it. But I will miss the slower pace of the days and the ease of expectations. Coffee on the balcony, no book bags to pack, no homework to do...well, you get the picture. But there have been lessons learned this week...
A miracle has happened at the beach this morning. The fishermen are there, but I notice that things are different. NFL 1 is alone. He is wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He is NOT sitting on his cooler. He is chatting with the beach strollers. And I cannot be sure, but I think he caught a fish. Down the beach, the swimsuit boys have shirts on. One of them is sitting today. They are still working hard, but when their bucket was full, they sat down and rested. What to make of all of this? I guess we all have lessons to learn. Maybe NFL 1 decided to work a little harder. Maybe swimsuit boy decided to relax and take it all in. Remember when Forrest Gump said "Jenny taught me to read and I taught her to dangle." We all have something to teach and we all have something to learn.
Next door in the adjoining building, there is a beautiful older lady whom I have seen all week. She must be in her 70's, but she is active and engaged in her life. I see her at the pool, in the workout room and on the beach. She is absolutely stunning, but you can tell that she has lived in Florida for awhile. Her skin has aged faster than she has, a testament to the strong sun. When I was a little girl, my mom covered me in zinc oxide every summer morning before I left for the pool. This was during the time when all of the other girls my age were covering themselves in baby oil so that they could get the best tan possible. I remember my mom said "You will thank me when you are 40". Unfortunately she is not here, but I am thanking her anyway. The first few days I was here, I really wanted a tan, but my lovely neighbor reminded me that the only tan I really want is the one that is only visible when I take my suit off at night. Remember the conversation between Miranda and Carrie in "Sex and the City" when Miranda says "What happened to aging gracefully?" and Carrie replied "It got old". I guess it's all a matter of balance.
Speaking of balance, a friend of mine sent me an e-mail yesterday pointing out the fact that my blogs this week reflect my personality. One day I write about competition, and the next I write about enjoying the moment. She is absolutely correct. These are the opposing sides of ME. I am goal driven. I make lists and cross them off. I am very disciplined. But I am a Libra, so I require balance. I quell my competitive spirit by telling myself that it is the process and not the end that really matters. One of my favorite poems is called Ithaca. It is about a journey to a place called Ithaca, but it reminds you to take your time on the journey, because it is the long trip and all that happens on it that will bring you happiness.
I'm not sure what lessons the kids learned this week. I guess Matt learned that if he pushes Gabrielle in the pool, she will kick him in the shin. I suppose this is the lesson of cause and effect.
So back to reality next week. It has been so much easier to write at the beach. No pressure or self-imposed deadlines. Mark Twain said "Work and play are words used to describe the same thing under differing conditions." Maybe a picture of the beach above my desk at home will help...
So until next week...back to reality...where there are more lessons to be learned...
A miracle has happened at the beach this morning. The fishermen are there, but I notice that things are different. NFL 1 is alone. He is wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He is NOT sitting on his cooler. He is chatting with the beach strollers. And I cannot be sure, but I think he caught a fish. Down the beach, the swimsuit boys have shirts on. One of them is sitting today. They are still working hard, but when their bucket was full, they sat down and rested. What to make of all of this? I guess we all have lessons to learn. Maybe NFL 1 decided to work a little harder. Maybe swimsuit boy decided to relax and take it all in. Remember when Forrest Gump said "Jenny taught me to read and I taught her to dangle." We all have something to teach and we all have something to learn.
Next door in the adjoining building, there is a beautiful older lady whom I have seen all week. She must be in her 70's, but she is active and engaged in her life. I see her at the pool, in the workout room and on the beach. She is absolutely stunning, but you can tell that she has lived in Florida for awhile. Her skin has aged faster than she has, a testament to the strong sun. When I was a little girl, my mom covered me in zinc oxide every summer morning before I left for the pool. This was during the time when all of the other girls my age were covering themselves in baby oil so that they could get the best tan possible. I remember my mom said "You will thank me when you are 40". Unfortunately she is not here, but I am thanking her anyway. The first few days I was here, I really wanted a tan, but my lovely neighbor reminded me that the only tan I really want is the one that is only visible when I take my suit off at night. Remember the conversation between Miranda and Carrie in "Sex and the City" when Miranda says "What happened to aging gracefully?" and Carrie replied "It got old". I guess it's all a matter of balance.
Speaking of balance, a friend of mine sent me an e-mail yesterday pointing out the fact that my blogs this week reflect my personality. One day I write about competition, and the next I write about enjoying the moment. She is absolutely correct. These are the opposing sides of ME. I am goal driven. I make lists and cross them off. I am very disciplined. But I am a Libra, so I require balance. I quell my competitive spirit by telling myself that it is the process and not the end that really matters. One of my favorite poems is called Ithaca. It is about a journey to a place called Ithaca, but it reminds you to take your time on the journey, because it is the long trip and all that happens on it that will bring you happiness.
I'm not sure what lessons the kids learned this week. I guess Matt learned that if he pushes Gabrielle in the pool, she will kick him in the shin. I suppose this is the lesson of cause and effect.
So back to reality next week. It has been so much easier to write at the beach. No pressure or self-imposed deadlines. Mark Twain said "Work and play are words used to describe the same thing under differing conditions." Maybe a picture of the beach above my desk at home will help...
So until next week...back to reality...where there are more lessons to be learned...
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
You Win Some, You Lose Some
Gabrielle and I have were playing in the pool last night. After almost 72 games of Marco Polo, she wanted to have a race. She's been swimming weekly in a class and she was anxious to show off her skill. I was a little tired, but I agreed to a quick race. When I was her age, I competed on the swim team. In fact, I was the fastest swimmer in Atlanta in backstroke and freestyle. (Tony is now rolling his eyes, but where else do I get to brag about that little tidbit of trivia) Anyway, ready, set, go...I sashay down and back, and when I turn around to see how far she has to go, she touches the wall. When did that happen? I mean, she isn't more than 3 seconds behind me. You should have seen the look on her face. You'd have thought she won the Olympics. But it got me to thinking...
Last winter during basketball season, Matt would drag me outside around 9:00 every night to play a game of basketball. We would play to 20, and I would usually beat him by about 5 points. This year, the first game we played, he beat me by 3. I chalked it up to luck, but I congratulated him on his win. The next night, we played again, and he beat me by 3. For the next 4 nights, he beat me every game. On night 7th night, I finally won, but only by 2 points. And over the course of the season, he consistently won. I was really proud of his improvement, but I was privately bummed that I could no longer win. I looked forward to baseball season where I knew that it was just a matter of throwing grounders and not competing, but it was not to be. One evening after baseball practices had begun, he asked me to come out and catch him while he practiced his pitching. I grabbed the catcher's mit and knelt into position. On the first pitch, he threw it so hard that I missed it and it hit my foot. It hurt so much I actually cried... in the middle of the neighborhood. Matt was so upset and sorry, not realising that his strength had surpassed my ability. My husband, having witnessed the entire event, burst into laughter, and then quickly tried to recover by suggesting that I go inside and get some ice. (This reaction is the subject for a different blog entitled "Times When You Should Not Laugh At Your Wife").
As I sat inside, it occurred to me that my days of practicing any kind of sports with my son were coming to an end. I guess it won't be long until he will agree to play me in a kind of patronizing "oh sure mom, I'll spot you 20 points" tone.
When Tony and I were on our honeymoon in Jamaica, there were ping pong tables out on the beach and we decided to play. Having only known each other for about 9 months, we had never actually played ping pong before. Now I grew up a tomboy with 3 brothers in an extremely sports-minded family, and we had a ping pong table. My dad taught me to play at 4 years old. So needless to say, I whipped Tony's butt. He challenged me again and again, but I beat him every game. Later in the day, we took up paper football, and he regained the winner's crown. He beat me every single game. To this day, I still think he might have cheated (I know Tony, how do you cheat at paper football?) , but I have no proof of this. Thankfully, 3 days later, I turned back into a girl, got my hair braided like Bo Derrick in "10", and we returned to honeymooning.
It's hard to be a competitive person and lose to your children. A good mother applauds the fact that her children are developing skills and becoming better athletes....but you know, there is that nagging voice inside that says "I'll practice and get you next year.."
As for Tony, I'm dragging him over to the pool in the morning. And if I don't win that race, we're going to find a ping pong table...
So until tomorrow...when I'll hopefully find something I can win at...
Last winter during basketball season, Matt would drag me outside around 9:00 every night to play a game of basketball. We would play to 20, and I would usually beat him by about 5 points. This year, the first game we played, he beat me by 3. I chalked it up to luck, but I congratulated him on his win. The next night, we played again, and he beat me by 3. For the next 4 nights, he beat me every game. On night 7th night, I finally won, but only by 2 points. And over the course of the season, he consistently won. I was really proud of his improvement, but I was privately bummed that I could no longer win. I looked forward to baseball season where I knew that it was just a matter of throwing grounders and not competing, but it was not to be. One evening after baseball practices had begun, he asked me to come out and catch him while he practiced his pitching. I grabbed the catcher's mit and knelt into position. On the first pitch, he threw it so hard that I missed it and it hit my foot. It hurt so much I actually cried... in the middle of the neighborhood. Matt was so upset and sorry, not realising that his strength had surpassed my ability. My husband, having witnessed the entire event, burst into laughter, and then quickly tried to recover by suggesting that I go inside and get some ice. (This reaction is the subject for a different blog entitled "Times When You Should Not Laugh At Your Wife").
As I sat inside, it occurred to me that my days of practicing any kind of sports with my son were coming to an end. I guess it won't be long until he will agree to play me in a kind of patronizing "oh sure mom, I'll spot you 20 points" tone.
When Tony and I were on our honeymoon in Jamaica, there were ping pong tables out on the beach and we decided to play. Having only known each other for about 9 months, we had never actually played ping pong before. Now I grew up a tomboy with 3 brothers in an extremely sports-minded family, and we had a ping pong table. My dad taught me to play at 4 years old. So needless to say, I whipped Tony's butt. He challenged me again and again, but I beat him every game. Later in the day, we took up paper football, and he regained the winner's crown. He beat me every single game. To this day, I still think he might have cheated (I know Tony, how do you cheat at paper football?) , but I have no proof of this. Thankfully, 3 days later, I turned back into a girl, got my hair braided like Bo Derrick in "10", and we returned to honeymooning.
It's hard to be a competitive person and lose to your children. A good mother applauds the fact that her children are developing skills and becoming better athletes....but you know, there is that nagging voice inside that says "I'll practice and get you next year.."
As for Tony, I'm dragging him over to the pool in the morning. And if I don't win that race, we're going to find a ping pong table...
So until tomorrow...when I'll hopefully find something I can win at...
The Fisherman and the Buddhist
It's another beautiful day at the beach. I was up early with the fishermen. They fool me every morning. When I see them down at the water's edge, they are bundled up in sweat pants and heavy jackets. I assume this means it is too cold to sit out in my bathing suit, so I pull on my sweats and jacket and bring out my coffee. But it's 75 degrees . I happily peel down to my suit and assume that they have been out there for a few hours.
I wanted to write early today, but I left my computer charging in my son's room. This means I will either have to wait until after 10:00am to write, or wake him up and try to write once he is up. I choose the former. Last night he borrowed my computer to update his website. He started this site about 6 months ago and he has updated it about 4 times. The problem with this is that it is a sports news site, full of scores and comments on the previous night of sports. When he asks me why he doesn't have many visitors to his site, I try and explain that people who follow sports probably want their update on a daily basis, not every 4 months. After reading a few paragraphs of my blog yesterday, he kindly questioned why anyone would choose to read "that stuff" over his "stuff". The competitor in me couldn't resist comparing the number of hits on each site. He mumbled something about a "show-off" and I was ashamed of myself.
Back to the fishermen. Every morning we are here, the same 2 guys are out there on the beach. From my 4th floor balcony, they look like 2 NFL players. One brings his fishing pole and nothing else. He stands the entire time he is there and never moves. The other guy brings 2 poles and a big blue cooler. He has a pretty elaborate routine. First he sticks both poles in the ground. Then he folds back the top on the enormous cooler and proceeds to pull out drawers and various items. I can't quite make out what he is doing, but he finishes up with a big mug of something, closes the top, grabs a pole and sits down. He never moves for the rest of the time he is there. The curious thing is that in the 2 years I have been watching them, they have never caught one fish. Never. And my feeling is that they don't expect to, because they don't bring a bucket or anything to put a fish in. (I suppose the guy with the cooler could use the cooler, but I don't think he would dare).
Half an hour later, 2 more guys show up. They wave at the "originals" and begin to set up about 50 yards further down the beach. These guys cannot be more than 18, and they wear their swim suits and nothing else. They each have 2 poles which they quickly stick in the ground. They also have a huge white bucket. They get to work immediately, and in the next 15 minutes, they have at least 15 fish. They chat amiably with anyone who walks by, but they mean business. When their bucket is full, they pack up, wave to the other 2 guys and leave.
Meanwhile, NFL 1 and 2 are winding down. The mug goes in the cooler, the poles come out of the ground, and they slowly amble away. And I am left to ponder what it all means. There is an old Buddhist principle that says you should always act as if the future of the universe depends on what you do, while laughing at yourself for thinking that whatever you do makes any difference. (of course, sometimes I think that the Buddhists copied all of the best lessons from the Bible , then sat down, had a glass of wine, and decided it was a good plan but a little too "uptight")
I am thinking that these guys have the right idea. There are lessons to be learned here. They are disciplined and meticulous, but their hard work does not depend on the outcome. It is the effort and not the result. This is something I can admire.
I write every morning. Some days the results are ok, and some days, as my son so kindly puts it, "Why would anyone want to read that stuff?" But it doesn't matter. It's all in the effort.
And that is today's lesson form the beach.
Until tomorrow....that is if I remember to keep the computer out of Matt's room...
I wanted to write early today, but I left my computer charging in my son's room. This means I will either have to wait until after 10:00am to write, or wake him up and try to write once he is up. I choose the former. Last night he borrowed my computer to update his website. He started this site about 6 months ago and he has updated it about 4 times. The problem with this is that it is a sports news site, full of scores and comments on the previous night of sports. When he asks me why he doesn't have many visitors to his site, I try and explain that people who follow sports probably want their update on a daily basis, not every 4 months. After reading a few paragraphs of my blog yesterday, he kindly questioned why anyone would choose to read "that stuff" over his "stuff". The competitor in me couldn't resist comparing the number of hits on each site. He mumbled something about a "show-off" and I was ashamed of myself.
Back to the fishermen. Every morning we are here, the same 2 guys are out there on the beach. From my 4th floor balcony, they look like 2 NFL players. One brings his fishing pole and nothing else. He stands the entire time he is there and never moves. The other guy brings 2 poles and a big blue cooler. He has a pretty elaborate routine. First he sticks both poles in the ground. Then he folds back the top on the enormous cooler and proceeds to pull out drawers and various items. I can't quite make out what he is doing, but he finishes up with a big mug of something, closes the top, grabs a pole and sits down. He never moves for the rest of the time he is there. The curious thing is that in the 2 years I have been watching them, they have never caught one fish. Never. And my feeling is that they don't expect to, because they don't bring a bucket or anything to put a fish in. (I suppose the guy with the cooler could use the cooler, but I don't think he would dare).
Half an hour later, 2 more guys show up. They wave at the "originals" and begin to set up about 50 yards further down the beach. These guys cannot be more than 18, and they wear their swim suits and nothing else. They each have 2 poles which they quickly stick in the ground. They also have a huge white bucket. They get to work immediately, and in the next 15 minutes, they have at least 15 fish. They chat amiably with anyone who walks by, but they mean business. When their bucket is full, they pack up, wave to the other 2 guys and leave.
Meanwhile, NFL 1 and 2 are winding down. The mug goes in the cooler, the poles come out of the ground, and they slowly amble away. And I am left to ponder what it all means. There is an old Buddhist principle that says you should always act as if the future of the universe depends on what you do, while laughing at yourself for thinking that whatever you do makes any difference. (of course, sometimes I think that the Buddhists copied all of the best lessons from the Bible , then sat down, had a glass of wine, and decided it was a good plan but a little too "uptight")
I am thinking that these guys have the right idea. There are lessons to be learned here. They are disciplined and meticulous, but their hard work does not depend on the outcome. It is the effort and not the result. This is something I can admire.
I write every morning. Some days the results are ok, and some days, as my son so kindly puts it, "Why would anyone want to read that stuff?" But it doesn't matter. It's all in the effort.
And that is today's lesson form the beach.
Until tomorrow....that is if I remember to keep the computer out of Matt's room...
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