Still in Amsterdam!

After a two-hour delay in ATL yesterday,we have been in Amsterdam FOREVER. The Italian air traffic controllers went on strike yesterday.so our flight from Amsterdam to Florence was canceled. We're on a much later flight through Paris and won't arrive until 9:30 this evening.The good news is that we're with OLLI friends, and, trust me,we're so punchy and sleep-deprived, the whole experience is beginning to seem like fun!

Moving Forward, Embracing Change - An Additional Goal for My Third Thirty

I'm reading "Under the Tuscan Sun" as we get ready to leave next week for Florence. I read "Prague Winter" last fall as we cruised the Rhine with Prague as our eventual destination. I loved being immersed in Madeleine Albright's story, and I loved seeing the places she had seen as a child.

I expect to feel the same as I wander Florence and several smaller Tuscan villages over the next two weeks. Already the lush language and beautiful setting of the book has me under its spell.

I was most struck by a line from the preface. Mayes observes, "To bury the grape tendril in such a way that it shoots out new growth I recognize easily as a metaphor for the way life must change from time to time if we are to go forward in our thinking." I read this, then read it again. "Wow," I thought. "I know so many people who need to hear this."

Especially as we age, we seem to feel as though we're in the final act of our lives, that new ideas and experiences are reserved for the young, that we must go about the business of tidying up our loose ends, then sit quietly and contemplate the past. At age 66, I observe this behavior in family and friends. It's simply never occurred to me, before I read this sentence of Frances Mayes', that change and forward movement are forever. How exciting to think that at any moment, around any corner, there may be something new that completely alters my course, even at my age!

I think this might be what frightens many people when they think of no longer being actively working for a living. It's not surprising; we spend decades working, striving, failing, trying again, succeeding - and finally quitting, sometimes just from exhaustion. But both the aging process and the act of ceasing to be employed are simply changes - one ongoing, another a bit sudden. How empowering to simply embrace our age, embrace our new circumstances! And happy is the person who reaches into new corners, pokes around new places to find out how they tick. How well we would sleep! How beautifully we'd dream!

My challenge is to remember this metaphor. And I think I might clue a few other folks in . . . .

ITALY, HERE WE COME!

I'm astounded to discover that I haven't posted to my blog since 2011! It's not as though I've been away all that time - in fact, I spend waaaay too much time looking at this computer screen.

Funny thing about blogging: it takes a certain amount of chutzpah to have a strong feeling that anyone (or everyone) is interested in one's thoughts. I guess I just lost that drive to share?

At any rate, here I am. Mike and I are one week away from departure; we're leaving for Florence, Italy, with an OLLI group on June 10. I hope to be able to access my blog while we're away, and plan to use it as a journal of this trip. The last trip we took, a Viking river cruise through the middle Rhine Valley, came and went without my recording a single thought or posting very many pictures. What a waste! I vowed once I returned to not let that happen again.

So, for any of you who are interested, I pledge to record thoughts and impressions as we travel. And to all of you who regard this as an excellent opportunity to back a truck up to my front door and haul away all of our possessions, fair warning: big, strong son and ferocious dog will be in residence the entire time. While that is terrible news for robbers and burglars, it's great for Mike and me. We know the house and the puppy will be well-cared-for.

We plan to climb the 297 steps from the ground to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We practiced yesterday by climbing from the Plaza Level of the Capitol building to the 15th floor - 308 steps! Today we have sore calves and thighs, but it was actually really fun. And we now feel as though it's possible for these old bones to be dragged up that tower to enjoy the view.

SO - Italy, here we come! And I'll probably gripe a little bit about packing sometime later this week.

June 3, 2014

Sunday afternoons

For about the last ten years I have devoted my Sunday afternoons to work. Mike is usually playing golf, the kids have been grown for all that time and have their own interests, and the house is generally quiet. It's a day I can count on to be free of appointments. Here in the deep south, Sundays are devoted to church and family, and most of my friends are church people and certainly are family people. So mostly I'm left alone.

Before I retired and for the year immediately following my
retirement, I worked on work; that is, Sunday afternoon was pretty much like another work day and my labors were money-making ones. But gradually I left that world behind and became more and more absorbed in volunteer activities. This is still work; in fact, it's intense and emotionally draining and a bit scary. BUT - it pays nothing, so is difficult to quantify. Is this really a worthwhile way to spend a Sunday afternoon?

I found myself in a quandary: if I don't work on Sunday afternoon, what do I do? For the first time ever, I find myself with a block of time in which I can do whatever I like. I'm still so much a creature of old rules that the idea of doing nothing, that is, just sitting and staring at the wall, or perhaps taking a nap, is horrifying. What a waste!

Sadly, in this, my seventh decade, I'm all too aware of how few years, months, days, hours, moments, there really are in life. Wouldn't it be great if we grasped this essential fact from the very beginning, and pinned every bright minute in memory like a butterfly in a museum collection? But no, we spend our moments as though they were endless.

So now I have time. Time, which seemed such a precious commodity for so many years: I would get to this task or that just as soon as time permitted. And all those tasks never undertaken, seemingly so important and lurking in the corners of my mind accusingly, pointing their bony fingers at me, whispering, "Hurry, hurry, we are waiting for you" -- those tasks are forgotten now and clearly never needed doing in the first place.

What to do? Clean out a closet, wash a window, dig a new flower bed? Write a letter, work on a short story, email a friend? Watch a movie? Read a book? Take a nap? Or, desperate to get through the afternoon, take a walk?

At the end of our lives, do we look back at Sunday afternoons and wonder, where did the time go? And what does it take to feel as though we have used our time well, and to feel satisfied that we are slipping away from life with nothing left undone? Is this possible at all?

Because I'm one of those folks who likes to plan ahead.

So I think I'll make a promise to myself: on Sunday afternoons, I will post to my blog. And I'll come back and read this post every once in a while, just to touch base with my plan.

THE TIME FOR ACTION IS NOW

I’m reading a fascinating book that details events in Tallahassee in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s of the last century that transpired as a result of growing frustration in the African-American community at the seemingly hopeless fight for equality. I’m struck by some of the lessons of this history, the strongest of which seems to be the large numbers of missed opportunities.

When we contemplate our mistakes, we long to be able to reach back and push ourselves along a slightly different path, perhaps speak stronger words or be more silent, step up or step back – tiny changes that might have made enormous differences. We can never be sure of these, of course – different actions or words may have led to more disastrous outcomes.

But one lesson that seems to keep popping up throughout our social history is that people of courage and vision can nudge us towards our better selves. Imagine what America would be today without Abraham Lincoln as President – and imagine what we could be if he hadn’t been so untimely taken? It’s a wistful thought, indeed.

In the troubled ‘50s and ‘60s, our community was blessed with a rich community of African-American young people on the FAMU campus, a stalwart proponent of peaceful protest, Rev. C.K. Steele, and a southern gentleman with a kind heart who just happened to live in the Governor’s Mansion, Leroy Collins. Tallahassee might be a much different city today had any of these folks not been around in those years.

When we fast-forward to the 21st century, we are faced again with some serious problems. Tallahassee has vocal factions on many sides of multiple issues: the business community, the University community, the wealthy, the poor, the liberal, the conservative. In true American fashion, our City and County government structures are republican; that is, we depend on our elected officials to inform themselves adequately and make wise decisions on our behalf. We’ve agreed that a true democracy, where every decision is the result of a majority vote of every citizen, is simply too unwieldy and inefficient – we’d never get anything done.

BUT – do we not need community consensus on some things? Do we really all agree that an alternative energy source is a good thing? That is the assumption that’s been made by our decision-makers, but what’s the basis? Is it a good idea to keep southside schools open, even though they’re woefully underenrolled? Are they helpful to their surrounding communities? Would those neighborhoods suffer disproportionately if the schools weren’t present? Are we obligated to provide health care to the uninsured and underinsured? Are they adequately treated? Are we making the best use of existing facilities? Are we willing to foot the bill for these services?

Here’s the problem as I see it. No issue is simple. There are always pros and cons, good effects and bad effects, and always – always – a cost. There are costs in terms of actual dollars and costs in terms of quality of life issues. My gain may lead to your loss. My tax deduction may be replaced by your tax increase. These facts seem self-evident – but until the actual facts are laid out in a rational, dispassionate manner, we can’t be sure of them, and we continue to argue, and nothing gets done. OR – something gets thrust upon us, and we feel we’ve been bypassed, ignored and generally bamboozled by the other side.

The recent community uproar and general mess that was made of the BG&E plant project seems to be a direct result of leadership once again failing to contemplate the lessons of history. Did anyone involved in this deal think about the consequences of their process? Or did they simply not care?

The same kinds of simple ideas proposed by Governor Collins a half-century ago in Florida – biracial groups in every Florida community convened to address the issues between the races in an open forum, business owners’ recognition of a moral responsibility to treat all customers fairly and equally, even though they weren’t legally required to do so, both ideas that were rejected out of hand by every other leader in the state – would serve us well in the current day. Our community needs leadership from those we’ve elected to do exactly that. We need City and County Commissioners to step up and convene regular open forums on community issues. We need simple questions answered: Do we really support the idea of sustainable energy? Are we willing to pay for it? Do we truly want new business for our city, even though we may have to offer financial incentives to attract it? Do we believe in social programs for our most vulnerable citizens, and are we willing to foot the bill?

And our Superintendent of Education should behave in a like manner: convene public forums to answer the questions we need to answer about our schools. Can we justify underperforming and under-enrolled schools, even as they nurture the neighborhoods that surround them? If we value them, what are we willing to do, to pay, to sustain them? In fact, do we still believe in the whole system of public education? If so, are we willing to support them with our time and money?

Tallahassee’s involvement in the recent presidential election process seems to indicate that citizen interest in governing is high. The widespread reaction from the community in response to the BG&E issue is additional proof that we are an engaged, intelligent, willing bunch of folks. Someone simply needs to seize this moment and pull many people under the decision-making tent. It may well be true that personal investment in a process creates an ongoing commitment to that process.

Wouldn’t our city be better served by raising issues and making informed, democratic decisions through a consensus-building process than by slamming so many barn doors after so many horses have gone?

Some thoughts on the morning after, and the mornings to come


I’ve been involved in the Barack Obama campaign since the spring of 2007, first because I was just curious and then because I was stunned by Obama’s charisma. I attended his first rally in Tallahassee which, when I remember it now, was remarkable in its simplicity. There was no Secret Service – in fact, he seemed to be alone, with no handlers visible anywhere. There was no metal detector at the door, no scramble for tickets. We simply paid our money and walked in. There was a rather high price, and the students who could not afford the hundred-dollar cost crowded the plaza surrounding the building, hoping for a glimpse of the Man Who Would Be President.

I had been invited to work with the volunteers who were scattered around the room, instructed to wear all black so I would be identified as someone who might be able to answer a question: yes, ma’am, the restrooms are this way; no, sir, the balcony is reserved for those folks who contributed $500. As a part of this group, I was privy to tidbits of insider gossip: Mr. Obama was just across the plaza in the high-rise penthouse, meeting with the heavy hitter, high-roller contributors. To reach our building, he would be driven around the block for security reasons and enter from the rear. And no, he wouldn’t have time to take questions or shake hands – this was a flying trip.

As we waited patiently, listening to the warmup from the Mayor, a County Commissioner, a City Commissioner, a State Legislator, we could hear increasing crowd noise from the plaza. I found a window and watched, incredulous, as, all alone, Obama emerged from the ground floor of the high rise, crossed the plaza, and climbed on a stone bench. He’s a tall man, graceful, at ease in his body – almost painfully thin, but vigorous. He hopped on that bench like an eighteen-year-old at a rock concert, excited at the prospect of hearing Springsteen or Widespread Panic.

I watched the crowd of students surge towards the bench. They had hoped to catch a glimpse – instead, they had front row position. I couldn’t hear his words, so I searched their faces.

I was struck as I lay in bed Tuesday night, November 4, 2008, and listened to President-Elect Obama’s acceptance speech and saw the faces in the crowd at Chicago’s Grant Park – the expressions were the same as what I observed on that cool March day in the spring of 2007. I saw the same look in the crowd at Florida A&M University in September, 2007, and on folks who gathered to listen to Michelle Obama in the spring of 2008. They were uniquely American faces: open, attentive, guileless – and, most of all, hopeful. I would leave these events over the past 18 months feeling almost high on hope, and thinking to myself, it’s been a long time since I’ve been thrilled at the promise of my country. I’m energized, ready to tackle problems, convinced that we can leave things in good shape for our children and grandchildren. Yes, we can.

As a southern white woman who cut her political teeth protesting the Vietnam war and advocating for civil rights for all Americans, I am certainly thrilled with the idea that a black man has become our leader. Barack Obama’s race doesn’t really define him, however. The quality that should matter most to us about our new President is his eagerness to lead us. This shines through his words. America so desperately needs optimism, confidence and competence in the Oval Office, and I think we have found it. I believe our whole world has been holding its breath, longing for our citizens to reclaim our position in the international community and reaffirm that our country, warts and all, is still the shining city on the hill.

I’m proud of us.

ONE STEP FORWARD – AND WHAT FEELS LIKE TWO STEPS BACK


First of all, a disclaimer: I am a woman. In fact, I date my real entry into womanhood from November 22, 1963, a day when the world shattered, when our parents cried and underneath the sorrow, we young folks could hear a little hum of something new. I was sixteen.

In the 45 years that have ensued, our country has seen many changes, some good, some not so good. One of the most significant shifts in attitude has been underscored by the campaign of Senator Hillary Clinton. Though I have been an Obama supporter since February of 2007, I have watched this strong woman and admired her and been glad. Vilified, demonized, portrayed as the anti-Christ during the years of her husband’s presidency, Hillary Clinton has had the courage to step up and offer herself to the American people for more of the same. And, to our credit, we Democrats treated her JUST LIKE ANY OTHER CANDIDATE. This is huge. In fact, had we not had a candidate who embodied the same ideals as she and in addition had the ability to kindle hope in large populations accustomed to a daily diet of despair, she might very well be our candidate for President today.

I’m a huge fan of a little cable TV show called “Mad Men.” Since it’s set in that very year of my entry into the sadness of the adult world, it really fascinates me. And I’m here to tell you, it’s accurate. One of the continuing (and disturbing) themes of “Mad Men” is the role of women in the workplace and in the broader society. I watch and pretty much discount the men – they’re a bit stupid and bumbling and pretty much into drinking, smoking and lechery. It’s the women characters I find intriguing. For the most part, they completely buy into and perpetuate the cast-in-stone definition of womanhood received from their parents and their parents’ parents before, back to the dawn of time. I remember these women, though in my little south Alabama town they weren’t as glamorous as the ones on TV. But I also know that somewhere in this group of TV victims their sixteen-year-old daughters are thinking, “Not me.” And back in the actual America of 1963 one of those teenage daughters was, in fact, Hillary Rodham.

So I’ve been pretty pumped this year – it’s seemed as though change was in the air. All the hard work by so many women who were sixteen in 1963 -- and all born since then -- seemed to have finally gotten us somewhere. Then, lest I should get too giddy – along comes Sarah Palin.

Sarah Palin would be right at home with the ladies of “Mad Men.” She commented long before her elevation to the national stage that she styles her hair and wears her glasses to tone down her (wink, wink) good looks – doesn’t want her (almost totally male) state constituency to be unable to take her seriously. Even though she herself was pregnant when she married, she certainly doesn’t support anything other than abstinence-only sex education in school – wonder how that is working for her family? Statistics show that daughters are much more likely to follow this severely limiting path, reducing the likelihood of higher education and career, if their mothers experienced this and NO REASONABLE SEX EDUCATION IS PROVIDED. And the fact tht her daughter has a CHOICE about what to do about her pregnancy has completely escaped everyone, it seems. Ms. Palin has referred to her daughter’s actions and to her own when faced with the birth of a Down syndrome child as a CHOICE – without ever acknowledging the whole point of this issue – which is that these choices are made by women and physicians, or within families, but not by governments.

Sarah Palin is committed to the reversal of Roe v. Wade. Sarah Palin is opposed to gay marriage. Before her son Trig was born, Sarah Palin slashed funding for special needs children in Alaska by 62 percent (although she seems to have had her consciousness raised by recent circumstances). Sarah Palin rejects the science underlying the phenomenon of global warming. Sarah Palin has spearheaded the move to build the largest oil pipeline in the western hemisphere from Alaska to the lower 48. Sarah Palin seems to have used the power of her office to further her vendetta against her sister’s ex-husband, yet claims an ethical high ground by opposing Senator Ted Stevens’ re-election. Oh, by the way, she also opposed Sen. Stevens’ attempt to keep the polar bear on the Endangered Species List because – bingo – polar bear habitat happens to be fertile ground for oil drilling.

There cannot be a woman in America who is more different from Hillary Rodham Clinton than Sarah Palin. Gov. Palin represents everything that Sen. Clinton has opposed for her entire life – in her law practice, as First Lady of Arkansas, as First Lady of the United States, as a United States Senator and as a presidential candidate. Can Senator McCain and his political operatives really believe that the women who supported Hillary will embrace Sarah? And sadly, the most important question – will we? Have we really made progress – or are we kidding ourselves? Are we not outraged, indignant, insulted, shocked, appalled, dismayed – and terrified? Will we speak out?