?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

My Birthday

Years ago I decided two things about my birthday. First, I only do things I want to do on that day; if it falls on a work day I usually arrange to take it off. Second, I always go to the beach.

Yesterday was my birthday. So what did I do? I played piano, worked out, read the cards friends and family had sent, went out to dinner with Earl, and spent the latter part of the evening on the phone. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? But I enjoyed every moment, not only for what I did but also for what I didn’t.

I didn’t answer a single business email. I didn’t pay any bills. I didn’t check my investments (a frequent Saturday ritual). I didn’t weed. I didn’t take on any extra obligations. I just lived in the moment.

And, of course, I went to the beach. Earl and I went together to Silver Beach in downtown St. Joe and walked to the end of the north pier where the St. Joseph lighthouse sits. Along the way we met people fishing on the piers, lounging on the sand, and playing in the water. It was delightful.

In fact, it was so much fun I’ve decided to do all the same things again today. So I won’t be doing that weeding, or balancing my checkbook, or answering emails until reality checks in tomorrow morning.

P.S. I also want to thank Hillary Clinton for her speech in support of Barack Obama yesterday.

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Weight Loss Challenge

We are now at the half-way point of the weight loss challenge Earl and I joined in late April. He’s lost a noticeable fifteen pounds; I’m hovering at six. Both of us feel pretty good about it. We’ll stick it out the next six weeks; there’s no harm in that. At the same time, I am still not enamored of the program itself.

We knew going in it was weighted (no pun intended) heavily toward Herbalife® products. In fact, it is sponsored by Herbalife® distributors. We also knew that use of those products would be encouraged, but that you could use any plan to lose weight that appealed to you. So it was flexible. No problem here.

What I find lacking is the presence of a real nutrition expert at the weekly weigh-in meetings. For instance, last week fiber was the topic of discussion. We saw a twenty minute video created by Herbalife® on how the digestive and eliminatory systems work, and it was clear that the appropriate amount of fiber in one’s diet helps them work better. But there was no discussion about how to include fiber in one’s daily diet. Rather the answer was to purchase Herbalife® products to keep fiber in one’s system.

There was also no discussion about how much fiber is necessary. So I went to the USFDA web site to learn more, because I think consuming fiber in one’s diet trumps consuming pills that have fiber in them.

It’s this sort of tilt toward Herbalife® products that I don’t like, even though I understand the class is sponsored by this company. Yet, if the class leaders stress that you can choose the weight loss approach you want, wouldn’t it make sense to include information about natural ways to add fiber or reduce fat or cut back on carbs? That’s where I think a nutrition counselor would be invaluable.

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Maybe Over

It’s almost eight o’clock where I live and the two final primaries are about to be over. I’ve heard varying comments in the media all day: Hillary is going to concede; Obama can’t beat McCain, the VP is up for grabs. Who knows what will really happen in the next few hours?

As for me, I’m glad the primary season had wound down. Yes, I’ll be watching tonight for the final hurrah, whoever gets to shout it. But I’m relieved that there are no more states to campaign in at this level, because it shouldn’t take us so long to elect the final two candidates. Of course, the presidential nominees will start all over.

I remember that candidate Richard Nixon said he would visit every single state. He did, and some pundits believe that approach cost him the election; because there’s a pragmatism to spending time in the states with the most votes.

Regardless, it’s on to the national conventions, which seem to me to be call-in events at this point. If the nominees have already been chosen, then the only thing left is to broker the Vice Presidential slot on the ticket. Other than that, it’s an exercise in saluting the flag for those who are already standing.

I suspect Minneapolis, the site of the Republican National Convention, and Denver, the site of the Democratic National Convention, feel differently as their hotels fill, their restaurants reap giant tabs, and the general economy flourishes for a few days. I also understand that my one voice isn’t going to change a system that’s been in effect for years. Nevertheless, I’m entitled to voice my opinion.

And it is this: Our system for electing the highest public official in the land needs to have time restraints and money restraints. Otherwise, someone will start running for the office of president the day after the next one is sworn in. And we’ll endure even longer campaigns. In this case, it will never be over.

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Commander-in-Chief

I understand that Barack Obama has reluctantly quit the church he’s been a member of for approximately two decades. I’ve seen a couple headlines that allude to this, although I haven’t made the time yet to read the articles and consider their content.

What I have done is mentally create a list of questions about Obama’s religious beliefs and their role in the primaries and possibly in the general election. Here they are:

How often did Obama attend Trinity Church? Was it weekly, monthly, when he was in town? Wouldn’t clear thinking people want to know?

How often did Reverent Wright preach? Was it weekly, monthly? Was it always with the same vitriolic spirit that the Internet showcases? Or were there sermons with less ignition power? Wouldn’t clear thinking people search for a balance and not simply watch the endless loop of Wright’s damning America?

I’ve heard many talking heads make comments like, “What took him so long? That’s what worries me. Is he really ready to be commander-in-chief?”

I don’t know what took him “so long” or if he’s ready to be commander-in-chief. But I do know that many of us have entered relationships that lasted many years, only to discover in the end that the people involved had changed and it was time to move on. I cite my own divorces as Exhibit A. So, is it possible that a relationship with a church is similar to a marriage? I don’t have the answer; I’m only raising the question.

As for whether Obama or Clinton or McCain are ready to be commander in chief, I think the answer for all of them is really, “No.” Each has strengths, but each has shortcomings. Which makes me wonder, “Is anyone ever really ready to be commander-in-chief?”

I’m beginning to doubt it.

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Open House Angst

Part of having one’s home on the market is accepting that your Realtor® will hold open houses and that, at the first one or two, your neighbors — particularly those you don’t socialize with — will show up to see what you’ve got in the way of “stuff.” I’ve sold enough homes to know.

Of course, the neighbors are curious to compare how their houses stack up against others on their street; that’s only human nature at work. Of course, an open house also attracts a lot of lookers from other neighborhoods who are not really searching for that next home either. So you need a tough skin to open your home to the casual observer.

Intellectually I understand this; but emotionally I’m feeling put upon. I don’t like it that some of our neighbors have shown up more than once to ogle our “stuff.” In fact, one of them even brought friends to look at our decorating ideas. She also asked if she could have something in our bedroom if it didn’t make the cut to our new place.

Frankly, I find this behavior crossing the line. We’re not holding an open house so others can get decorating ideas; nor are we doing it to show off our furniture and artwork. We’re doing it to attract serious buyers who might want to live here.

I’m more than willing to entertain any neighbor who hasn’t seen our house or who brings a serious buyer. At the same time, if this particular person comes again and stays as long as she did today (at least half an hour), I think I’ll ask her if her interest is driven by the desire to have our house and, if so, when might we get an offer from her Realtor®.

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Blogging Along

It was four years ago on May 20, 2004 that I wrote my first blog. Called “Gauging Voices,” it was about how I listen to weather reports on the telephone. But I didn’t mean the standard variety. I meant that because my sons live far away from me, much of our communication is by telephone and I’m always trying to gauge how they’re faring in their respective corners of the world. I likened their voices to a barometer.

Since then I’ve written 861 more blogs on a myriad of subjects ranging from memories of my own childhood, opinions regarding current events, books I’ve taken a liking to, and anything else that catches my fancy. Often I find inspiration while driving and then return home to put it down on the virtual paper of the Internet.

Along the way, I’ve broken the one rule that started it all but made a couple others for guidance. Originally, I intended to write each blog in ten minutes. Sometime I do, but other times I don’t. Author Natalie Goldberg, who subscribes to this writing practice, probably wouldn’t scold me too much, given my output.

Rule #2: I made a conscious decision never to write anything I wouldn’t sign my name to or shout from the corner of State and Madison. I’ve kept this one, because one’s words are on the Internet forever and it is too easy to have them misinterpreted. Rule #3: I decided not to air any family grievances or disagreements with friends as I’ve seen other bloggers do. For my rationale, see Rule #2.

In the beginning I wrote daily, but as time has passed I write as the spirit moves me. It obviously moves me often as my average over the four years is a blog every day and a half. Adding them all together, I’ve written 249,636 words.

This is approximately half the length of Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. Not that I’m comparing myself with the great Russian author, but his word count is certainly impressive. Including serious revisions, he did it in six years. As for me, at the current rate I’m writing, it will take another four. And Tolstoy’s work isn’t even considered the longest well-known novel in existence; that honor goes to Marcel Proust and In Search of Lost Time. Nobody’s every actually counted his words, but estimates are around three million.

I don’t even want to do the math to learn how long I’d have to write to join his company.

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Memorial Day

Tomorrow is Memorial Day, although I suspect some people are not sure why we celebrate it as a national holiday.

Originally know as Decoration Day, this holiday remembers the men and women who died while serving our country in the armed forces. The first official observance of Memorial Day was in 1868 when our country honored those Union soldiers who died in the Civil War. Since then the meaning of the day has expanded to include all casualties of any military action.

Many people observe this holiday by visiting cemeteries, and Earl and I are among them. About twelve years ago, we were on a biking holiday in southern Wisconsin over Memorial Day Weekend where we stopped to rest at a charming small town cemetery. Carrying it one step further, we decided we would each find the tombstone of someone who had died while serving in the military and take a moment of personal silence to salute that person, even though he or she was a total stranger. We’ve been doing this ever since.

If you are near a cemetery this weekend, I urge you to consider making this tradition your own. While politicians and pundits talk about the freedoms we have in America, our military men and women are helping safeguard them for all of us. Regardless of what you think about invasions, bombings, aerial attacks and the other accoutrements of war, those who gave their lives deserve recognition.

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Dear Hillary

Dear Hillary,

It’s the night after the Kentucky and Oregon primaries, and the debate about seating delegates from Michigan and Florida is becoming more heated. May I offer an opinion?

I am a Michigan Democrat; and, yes, I voted in our state’s primary on January 15. I am also a woman of your age, so you might think there are a variety of reasons I’m in your camp. Please think again.

First, I knew going to the primary polls back in January that the delegates from Michigan would not be counted because our state’s Democratic organization moved its regularly scheduled primary ahead of other states and was told by the Democratic National Committee in Washington what the consequences would be. I also knew that, in order for my “vote” to even be considered in any light, I should vote for “Uncommitted” if I wasn’t one hundred percent committed to you. And I wasn’t.

We were encouraged here in Michigan to vote as “Uncommitted” if we thought we might support Obama over you. And so I did. We were also told that any write-in candidate would invalidate our vote. Granted, if everyone in the “Uncommitted” column held my point of view, you would still have won. But that assumes that everyone who voted in primary understood the directives. I suspect some didn’t. It also makes me wonder if you would be so adamant about seating the Michigan delegates if you had not “won” the primary.

As I see it, nobody in Michigan was disenfranchised. Those of us who claim to be Democrats should have made our voices heard at the front end, before the decision to move the primary was decided. We should have taken control then, if we really wanted our votes to count. After all, isn’t that what grass roots politics is about? And, ironically, our votes might have counted for more if we’d held our primary at its usual time.

Moving on to gender, I would be proud to vote for the first female president of our country. Great Britain has had one; India has too. But I would also be proud to vote for the first African American president. Ultimately, I want to vote for that person who can best lead our country, regardless of gender or race or age.

And, Hillary, I don’t think you fill the bill. When it comes down to it, I don’t believe you are working for the best interest of our country as much as you are working for the best interest of Hillary Rodham Clinton.

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Losing Weight

The very first diet I attempted was as a senior in high school where I used the Catholic concept of Lent to restrict my caloric intake. Given that I attended an all-girls Catholic high school at the time, my motivation was high. In fact, it’s probably fair to say it’s never been higher even though I’ve attempted numerous diets since. But then I’ve fallen off the Catholic bandwagon, so the Lenten crutch isn’t currently available to me.

Instead, over the years, I’ve tried Atkins with moderate but not permanent success. I’ve tried Weight Watchers with slow but steady success. And I’ve tried The Picture Perfect Diet, a lesser know approach to dieting that encourages the reading of food labels so that one understands what one is ingesting. In addition, I’ve tried the depression approach, which has yielded the most favorable weight loss results but at the expense of a healthy mental attitude. I don’t necessarily recommend it.

Today my life is relatively stress-free; at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to lose the extra avoirdupois. So Earl and I recently joined a weight loss class that’s predicated on eating a lot of protein and counting both protein and calorie consumption. It also requires weighing in each week to see how one is doing.

I’ve never participated in a group weight loss program before, and the dynamics are rather interesting. Each Thursday the participants weigh in and spend a good half hour discussing their weight loss or gain while waiting for the others in the class to also weigh in.

The thing is I’m not sure I want to get into the nitty-gritty about weight loss strategies with strangers. I’m already tired of hearing one participant discuss his secrets for losing weight and another bemoan the fact she didn’t lose any weight this week because she had to go out to dinner. It may sound intolerant, but I think when one is dieting one should be discreet about it. But I’m probably in the minority with this opinion.

Which suggests a group approach to becoming thinner might also go the way of the Lenten approach for me.

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A Hole in the Fabric

The message waited patiently in voicemail until we returned from dinner last night. I listened to it twice in disbelief and then checked the day’s obituaries for confirmation.

George, the handyman who had helped us repair, paint, and improve our home during the first years we lived here, had passed away. Cancer had claimed him . . . and quickly. His wake was this evening. I am forever grateful to my friend Lyn for her telephone call, as Earl and I might have missed the obits and therefore missed the opportunity to say our good-byes in person.

We arrived at the funeral home at 5:15, thinking we’d make our appearance and slip away. But already a line was forming out the door of the visitation room and almost out the door of the building. I wasn’t really surprised.

It wasn’t because George Bowers was born, raised, and lived here all his life. Nor was it because he’d worked for the local city government for decades. Or that there is now a hole in the fabric of our daily life. It was because, as one person at the wake noted, “He was a smiley, and he left a smile on all of us.” He sure did.

Ours was a business relationship first. He fixed our ailing fans, repaired our forlorn deck, painted our rooms one by one (even though he didn’t like to paint), and checked on our home if we were out of town. Later, after a fall from a roof curtailed some of his handyman activities, he became more of a friend.

That’s when George would stop by to see how we were doing, even though I secretly think it was to show us the most recent photos of his family. His daughter married and had a daughter herself. His son graduated from college and moved to a Chicago suburb. Always these photos were accompanied with my asking if he wanted a beer. He never refused, and we stood at the back door catching up and drinking down every so often.

Once or twice George and his wife and Earl and I went to dinner. It might have been the start of a cemented friendship, but it never quite took hold. I’m not sure why, but that didn’t stop George from coming by with the latest batch of photos.

Many of those photos were on display at the wake. While I enjoyed seeing them again, what I’ll remember most are those things in our home that George worked on. One summer, he and his son and I painted our living room and dining room together over the course of a couple days. We had a great time. Now whenever I walk into that room I’ll think of those days.

Currently we have a For Sale sign planted smack dab in the middle of the front yard, and I remember thinking that I should call George and let him know we might be moving. I wouldn’t want him to show up at the wrong place with the next set of pictures. But now, even if we choose to stay put, he won’t be by for his beer. It’s our loss.

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