THE GOOD AND BAD OF 50

I gladly chose to turn the big 50 early this year. Celebrations begin June 25th and will continue for a few days at the Hyatt in New York City. The best part is whose coming with us. It won’t be difficult to keep the food and alcohol flowing, but stamina is another story. Six people, about the same age, taking on the city - away from jobs, businesses, kids and responsibilities.

Going back to NYC is exciting for me. For nearly two years, I spent every other week in this town and though it seems exciting, it wasn’t when I worked there. Friends cringe when they think I gave it up, because I was paid to drink fine European wine and eat. But it was so exhausting in so many ways.

I know the best risotto in SoHo, the best cannoli in Little Italy, the best pub in Hell’s Kitchen, and I’m willing to share this information. The memories of this trip versus previous trips will be quite different. I won’t have to worry if there are not enough wine glasses, if the ink on the labels are smudged or bent, if the waiter pours in the incorrect order, the cork isn’t left for the host, blah, blah, blah. I will not be taking any notes or negotiating more chairs with a restaurant manager. I will not be getting others’ opinions on what they’re drinking, except maybe a funny slur from one of my awesome friends.
: D

I chose NY because of my familiarity with the city, and because I do not want to cater and clean up after one of our parties. Having a reputation for wine tastings and parties at the house, with me being the chef, I am afraid the celebration’s guest list would get out of hand quickly. It will be easier host to this event, because this city never fails to amaze everyone. It will be a long ass birthday party.

After a few more details, the countdown will begin, in many ways. Now that the details of the trip are in place, I am beginning to fret about turning 50. The last birthday that really bothered me was 24, and I’m not sure why. It was just a difficult one for me. So after an additional 26 years, why would 50 be scary?

Some say 50 is middle aged, but that is pure bull shit. I seriously doubt I will live to be 100, so it certainly ain’t in the middle. I’m on the downhill coast to death. YUP! That’s it! Fortunately, cancer has given me a morbid sense of humor when it comes to mortality. I have faced all those horrible questions about the kids, last will and testament and the estate. Any extra years I can squeeze from the insurance company statistics are pure icing on the cake.

I’ve also taught myself to live like there is no tomorrow. Illness has helped me greatly change my thinking around. No longer do I care what people think, or who is pissed at any given moment. I’ve learned not to let the little things bother me, or to worry so much about the future. I care about people, whether I know them or not, and whether they like me or my family or not. Working towards leaving a better world behind has become more important to me than a manicure or designer clothes, or how I am portrayed by others. Good or bad, wrong or right, I am trying hard to love everyone, without cynicism, and give them the opportunity to love me. It’s the most difficult task I’ve taken on, but so far, has been well worth the extra efforts.

Other than the ostentation of a trip to New York, this birthday will be spent with people I deeply love and care about, in one of the most fun cities in the world. With mixed emotions about getting older, I will try to be optimistic. I will become a member of AARP proudly, and demand my discounts.

Next stop may be Paris at 55.

THE BABY VISIT - PART TWO

This visit with The Baby was inspired by her cat, Philo. On her night table, The Baby keeps a glass of water. While sleeping, she didn’t want the cat to knock it over, so she moved the glass to the floor. Yesterday morning, she woke up to the sound of her cell phone’s muffled alarm. The cat had pushed the phone off the night table, with a direct hit below, and into the glass of water on the floor. Sometimes, if it wasn’t for shit luck, The Baby would have no luck at all. I couldn’t keep from laughing.

I received a text message from Ma Bell telling me the contract was fulfilled and these two phones can be exchanged. Last week, The Boy and I went to exchange his cell phone, and he jumped at the chance. The Baby, never liking any change, dragged her feet, wanting to keep her old reliable phone. Never mind she only had a car charger, it went off unexpectedly and was severely beaten up. The cat must have overheard the conversation last week, when we were all at The Baby’s home.

During the cell phone excursion, the second long conversation we had today, was about feminine versus masculine. This was the fun conversation between us. : ) All men show femininity and all women show masculinity, in different ways, at different times.

The way we were both dressed was normal, so we thought. The Baby had brown jeans and lavender dress shirt, hair pulled back in a pony tail, and sandals. I had blue jeans, black tank, denim shirt with my company logo and sandals, hair also in ponytail. No makeup, just wanting to exchange her phone at the AT&T store. There is a time when all women dress a little butch, er, more masculine. Maybe the correct word would be casual. We were on a mission of a new cell phone. The Baby needs a cell phone because of her active life. I need her to have a cell phone, so I can make my “needy” calls, making sure she’s alright. There is a time for sensuality and lipstick, and there is a time for sensibility and Chapstick. This was definitely one of the latter days.

Most people don’t think men care what they are wearing or what they look like. They will tell you there is no reason to dress, but it is more important to be comfortable. Bull shit! Every attractive man The Baby and I have met looks and smells good. Good looking men want to be attractive to the females around them. In the animal kingdom, we all know too well it is the male of the species that is the prettiest. Human females know this and use makeup, hair goop, nail polish and literally anything that uplifts, to look more attractive. Men do care, but it’s just they don’t have to put as much time into it.

I had a red plaid shirt once, but according to The Baby, I was to get rid of it and never purchase anything plaid again. I didn’t realize it was a faux pas until she told me. When I owned this shirt, it was when I was a single mother when the kids were younger. The house was a fixer upper, and she enlightened me with a common scenario of me being at a Home Depot while wearing the shirt. In her own honest way, she told me it looked too masculine on me. I am normally not concerned with what people would think of a shirt I am wearing, but I’ve not purchased plaid since.

Women apparently have to be cautious, because people do make their own opinions and conclusions. However, masculinity is associated with being strong, independent and having self worth in your occupation or career. If a women shows these traits, she’s just a bitch. On the other hand, men have to be cautious too, because showing too much femininity shows others a sign of weakness, instability, or being gay. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.

The question is how many masculine traits should a woman have and how many feminine traits should a man have? When is enough enough? It all depends on the individual person, because sexuality plays a part of our human behavior. Whatever society has made it out to be has certainly changed since the June and Ward Cleaver days, although I think June was strong when she was insistent with Ward, Wally or The Beaver. If I knew June today, I wouldn’t fuck with her, with her pearls or in a plaid shirt.

When speaking, women tend to get louder to get their point across. Sometimes, we’re not sure if our mate is listening, so we repeat and get louder. Please forgive us when we drink, because then, the decibels go up even more. It just doesn’t matter which sex we are speaking to when this happens, and can not be seen as masculine or feminine - just a little obnoxious.

Men must show their feminine side, no matter how little or deep it lies. If they didn’t, we both decided they would never get laid. Both The Baby and I have noticed over the years, when a man is speaking to another man, his voice lowers, usually about a half an octave down. When a man is challenged by either sex, the same thing happens. They make a more feminine sounding voice and it comes up a half an octave when the supplier of their hoochie coochie calls or walks into the room.

I need these good times with The Baby and the closeness we share with each other. We were two observant people in sync today. Before she left, I slipped her some cash, some candy I had bought for her, and homemade jelly I made from the mulberries from her yard. By the end of the afternoon, she finally got her replacement cell phone, and went back to her home, her cat and her life. I miss her already.

THE BABY VISIT - PART ONE

I was with The Baby this afternoon. We learn from each other every time we are together. With only a four hour period of time, mother and daughter are connected again, adding another nice bond to our relationship. I am so grateful for her, and look forward to my next lesson with my young teacher. : )

Today, part of the conversation was me telling her she needs to be more open minded with The Boy. He is very conservative, and dead set in his ways, though only two years older than The Baby, his opinion is like moving a huge boulder at times. As much as she (and most of us) despise stereotypes, I had to categorize our family. Each member was put on her team, and others were put on my team. After hearing the teams a couple of times, and taking a brief look at these loved ones’ lives, she couldn’t figure it out why I divided the people the way I did.

Her team were the independent thinkers of the family. If they call you once a week, that’s plenty. They love to live their lives, controlled only by them, being self reliant and not asking for help. They have fewer members in her bunch, but are the more serious ones in the family. My team were composed of the family oriented people. We need more hugs and want everyone to get along with each other. We need the affirmation that everyone is alright and doing fine. If something is out of place, we are the ones who try to patch things up. We are the sentimental and needy fools, yet we are needed by the independents to show them how to keep balance in their life, and remind them we are all connected. Without the connection, we may as well not exist in each others’ lives.

The Boy is on my team and RT is on The Baby’s team. Among other family members, she does not have an argument between her team and mine. We both agreed whose team each person should be on. She asked why I would think about this, and go this far with this thought process. The answer is simple. I realize how she and RT are so much alike, and it’s up to the mother/wife to diffuse various family situations and make everything right again. The mothers are the ones responsible for the connection, and with the help of the other mothers on my team, we succeed at this. We need to be aware where everyone is in our lives and how to make the reconnection with our roots.

Healthy families and healthy plants are alike. Some roots need to be severed from the main system, in order to not be choked out. Some new sprigs coming out of the ground need to be nurtured and looked after, then tended to, so they have a strong start. And while growing, the mature leaves need to protect the young seedling from the poison and slugs, gently dropping the needed nutrients down to the little ones.

She asked if it bothered me we are on opposite teams. I reminded her we are on different teams - not opposite teams. Because she sees life differently from me doesn’t bother me at all. My love for her is so real, I genuinely want to understand her view of the world. After all, her view began with me pointing things out to her at such a young age. Isn’t it my responsibility to be view her world through her eyes?

I remember when The Boy and The Baby were toddlers together. The Boy (yes, certainly mum’s boy), saw and agreed with everything I was back then and everything I taught him. Unfortunately, the world is not the same as it was over 23 years ago, and I’ve changed my mind about some issues. The Boy is still adamant with his ideals and what he was taught. The Baby, as a toddler, had an incredible sense of color, art and abstract thinking. For the most part, until she was sixteen or so, I showed her the path I was on, because it was the only path I knew. I can only teach someone what was given or inside of me. In some ways, she has chosen other paths, but still took with her the abstract thinking and open mindedness of the world she was about to see and experience. Some of her thinking has gotten her into some trouble, but she is making adjustments in her thinking and behavior to balance herself out again. I admire this about her. I understand both of them and who they have grown to be.

The mother is the parent who notices things no one else in the world would notice about them. It’s very easy to do too. You just stick a box of crayons and paper in front of them. Tell them to draw the same object and study them. After you do this a few times, the differences are amazing. The Boy, being color blind all of his life, didn’t help and consistently showed a huge difference than his sister’s pictures and portraits. The Boy was always precise, wanting everyone to see exactly what he was drawing and why. The Baby was more like Escher. She would wait until you discovered the twenty pictures in one, and would want your explanation on why she drew it that way.

Do I have a favorite? Of course, but it depends what I am doing at the time. If I’m at a baseball game, or talking about faith, love, the future or music - it’s definitely The Boy. If I’m at a museum, or talking about faith, love, the future or music - it’s definitely The Baby. What neither of them realize is they are both so much alike, but individually have a different slant on things.

Faith with The Boy is about the structured Catholicism I have instilled in him. “Mummie wouldn’t lie to me, so I believe.” The Baby takes God and sees so many different things. The beauty of the Earth was His gift to us, His wrath is the same as karma, His love begins with what is inside of each of us. Love with The Boy is structured as well. Meet a nice girl, settle down and have 2.2 babies and a mini van in the drive, in the burbs. The Baby sees love everywhere, and does not pinpoint it so directly. Great music for The Boy is Dave Matthews and any type of classic rock and roll. The Baby is more on the edge with a current mix and struggling young musicians, trying to see everyone’s message in their lyrics.

How lucky am I? I am the receiver of all this great new information and a wonderful new view of the world, while seeing validation of what I have given them is still alive and making sense with each of them. It’s so obvious my favorite is both of them together. They can not be separated in my eyes. I don’t think either would ever believe this.

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST

I've run into some crazy ass people lately. I don't know what to make of it, as I do not want to judge anyone - judging surely comes back to haunt you. I seem to be a magnet to it or I am noticing it more lately.

First, within the old gang, tongues are wagging of a crazy ass friend. I have also experienced her first hand, and even without the additional gossip of her lunacy, yes, it is obvious -- she's a freaking nut case. Life has taken a hard toll on her. Without her meds, she just isn't sure what is and what isn't true. I avoid her, unfortunately. I've tried, but her nonsensical attitude and gibberish have me shrugging my shoulders.

Then, there are the many gazillion of people who feel the urgency to comment on every page on the internet. I'm not sure if all are crazy ass people, but some go on and on and on. The definite crazy ones are there as well, giving commentary on everything from being "Christ-like" to politics to criticizism. Some of the really wacky ones talk about something completely off the subject, sometimes taking the shock effect, to rattle the writer or owner of the site.

Flipping through the television channels, I've recently found Ernest Angly (ck sp), Graham Norton and the two older British women who clean dirty houses. There are politicians from both sides, sometimes screaming what needs to be done. (Like this type of behavior will actually change or convince others.) The best form of craziness has been watching the different reality shows. I think Survivor is the winner in selecting the most crazy ass people of the country to be on their show.

Of course, from my own home plate advantage, the crazy ass people run rampant. As I smile as I write, this scenario can be the ultimate reason for me going into my secluded "hibernation" about four times a year. There are recently a few friends, now classified as acquaintances, because I just can't listen to the crazy ass ideas or plans of how the world would be a better place, if I would only help blah, blah, blah. Some have even had the balls to call me out of the blue and tell me what I need to change in my life to make it better. WTF? I really thought I was happy. Everything is running smoothly, cancer is at bay, business stronger than ever, all the kids are doing well. During this conversation, she tells me how many things are wrong in her life. WTF, again??? In my opinion, this goes beyond being rude. It's just a crazy person, not willing to take care of her home life, yet willing to tell someone how to run their life. Clean out the nuts in your cupboard, then you can come over and help clean mine. Duh!

On the road, there is a new crazy person driving around, wanting to beat you to where you're going. They are the ones who always have to drive in front of you. If you pass them, they speed up, so you can not pass them. What's the reason for this weird behavior? They are not going to the same place I'm going, are they? Do they have to beat me there? Even if we are going to the same place, do I have to follow them going 15 miles an hour under the speed limit while they're talking on their cell phones?

As with everyone, there are some crazy ass family members too. There is no family complete without the occasional nut case. However, with a large family, there seems to be a few more of them. I shall not go into details here. The crazy ass family members reading this won't recognize themselves anyway.

And finally, the exes. Ah, the biggest of the crazy ass people of the world. It can be my ex, someone else's ex, one of the kids' exes, a friend's ex. They are all lunatics wanting to stir up anything and everything. There is a reason why they are an ex, but they just don't see it. And in my exes house, I am sure I am referred to as one crazy ass bitch.

After all this ranting, it brings me to my point in question. What is normalcy and does it exist? Can we all just get along, even with the crazy ass people out there, not performing to norm as we perceive norm? Besides turning the other cheek, using diplomacy or just pretending they do not exist, is there anything else we can do?

The answer is no, there is nothing left to do with crazy ass people. They are everywhere - in person, on the internet, on the road and way too close for comfort at times. The reasons behind their insanity usually lie with only a few reasons. One, they do not receive the needed attention they crave, so they want attention in any way they can receive it - good or bad, but usually with bad behavior. Two, they are or in need of medication. Whether they take their medication is their decision, even if they are crazy. Three, they do not have priorities set in their lives and do not realize the importance of happiness. They usually intend on hurting people for petty reasons.

I've said it before, and as time passes in my life, I am believing it more and more. I will not have these people in my lives. My future memories will be filled with people closest to my definition of normalcy. No extremists, no narcissists, no self proclaimed gurus. Some days, it feels like Night Of The Living Dead movie. The freaking zombies just keep coming, and I don't know where they are coming from.

Feel free to leave a crazy ass comment. You may not receive one back from me, but I may forward them to Nurse Ratchet.

LEE & SHERMAN - THE FIGHT CONTINUES

I've had do much fun this week. We managed to get the sunshine to follow us up North, for most of the week, leaving a week's worth of rain in Atlanta. According to the forecast, we'll leave colder, rainy weather and the sunshine will follow us back to the South. The condo is nearly complete up here, with just a few missing art pieces. We'll try to get some local art to reflect the culture here. It's been fun rehabbing, and now a very relaxing place to visit. We see family every other night, with time to sip tea or espresso in between, with quiet evenings of enjoying the cooler evenings. We now have the necessary extra amenities of DSL, television, bicycles, guitar and piano. We've thought about extending our stay, but should get back to HQ. It would be easy to settle in for a much cooler summer, but still miss home and other two kids. We are blessed to be able to spend time with entire family, at this point in our lives, but need to have the balance of both North and South worlds. It IS the quality we make of it, no matter where we are. It IS our attitude. It IS the hard work over the years that makes a difference. It IS the love we share with each other. Indeed, life is good, but even better when we can find the balance with it all.

taffy

I'm feeling like I'm being pulled in different directions. Note to self: it's only "vacation" when no one knows you in the town you visit. We had a wonderful day, drinking at a local winery on the very edge of Lake Erie. The sunset was beautiful, with wispy clouds of pink and soft oranges. It was a picture good enough for a jigsaw puzzle. : ) My expectations to write are still there, but others seem to be making plans, without asking for affirmation from me. My expectations of dealing with everyone with love may become a challenge. There is a lot of inspiration here, I think because it's so new to me. I'm anxious to explore and find things, but it's a little aggitating when I'm told "you won't like it". I'd rather decide that for myself. I think it's time to stealth myself. I need to make myself invisible. I may slink out of here early in the morning, borrow the car and see what happens.

arrival, well, almost to the RT Adventure

RT got a speeding ticket by the Ohio Highway Patrol. We both couldn't help but laugh. Ten hours of driving and his slightly leaded foot, it just seemed inevitable -- to both of us. We pulled into the condo community and I said "I know you got the garage door opener when we left our house [in Atl], but you did remember the condo key, right?". If it wasn't so dark, I think I would have seen him blush. We had had a conversation in our driveway back home about the key. He had his "selective hearing" going on. I thought his "oh, no" response was him kidding around again. LOL. No one was more surprised than myself when I began laughing again. I realized we had to wake up someone for our extra key. I also quickly realized there are locksmiths everywhere. He was tired and was ready to lay low for the week, and in his words, "he's his own worst enemy, at times". We finally got in around 1:30 a.m. Mass at our faraway parish changed the times from their winter schedule. We got three quarters of the service in. Still laughing, we thought it was still better than nothing. RT Adventures are always fun. When we finally settled down on our home away from home, he told me he always thought RT Adventures were fun and it was a compliment. I told him they are always fun, with the perfect mix of never knowing what's going to happen. The end result is better because they are always more memorable. I'm still thinking it's so much better to deal with life with love. It makes unexpected things a lot easier.

driving

I apologize in advance for spelling and punctuation. I'm in the car and we are driving to the Cleveland homestead. We're taking a car up and flying back. Before traveling (by plane, car, boat or whatever) I always make the announcement that we are not in a hurry. I hate being rushed and when I say this, RT or the kids know I'm not joking. Everyone instantly relaxes and knows we can stop for anything: bathroom, coffee, just to take a pic, whatever. Some people on the road are in a hurry. Some will drive slower in front of you. When you try to pass them in the other lane, sometimes they speed up. I don't get it. Are they afraid we will arrive first? But they're not going where we are going anyway! So WTF?!?! Of course, we see the older people on their road trips. Talk about the people that are not in any hurry. I really can't find it in my heart to make fun of them. I'll be there in no time at all. I find myself more patient with them in recent years and even wave when we buzz around them. : ) There are the young parents on vacation with a car load of kids. Since the dad is driving, doing his job, the mother has to take complete control of the kiddies. Every stop there is a family like this. I feel bad for her as the lady is either yelling or exhausted looking. It doesn't seem like a vacation of rest. So it's up to Cleveland, to be away from work, visit with family, and catch up on my writing. The home up there is all set up now, and bringing a car ensures more independence. The plan is not to have too many plans, although RT is talking about renting a boat and having some fun on Erie and a few river channels. Apparently, if we bring our passports, we can easily get to Canada by boat??? Talk of another side trip out in country or upstate New York. By car is boring. After this trip we can fly and not pack anything. I am quickly enjoying not having anything to do, especially since all the crap in The Baby's life this week. My biggest responsibility is the iPod playlists. "I must admit I felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoes." -- Bob Dylan