Night before last, I had a nightmare about my mother in law.
No, my mother in law is not a nightmare. Not at all. But I've been having various nightmares in the last 6 months or so, after years of not having them at all.
I have a lot on my mind.
I believe I blogged about my mother in law, who is in her 80's, and the fact that she has fallen several times in the past few years. She also suffered a small stroke a little over 3 years ago. She fell last in January, and sprained her ankle, after having a dizzy spell in the bathroom. Fortunately one of her children was in the house, and she was able to get assistance after he heard her calls. (she had one of the medical alarm pendants, but was not wearing it.)
As far as I know, she hasn't driven since the fall because of swelling, pain, and mobility issues, combined with the condition of roads where she lives (heavier than normal snowfall, huge piles of snow blocking visibility, roads narrowed more than usual). She's been without a car for a couple of weeks, but is supposed to be leasing a new car later this week. Anyway, to the dream....
She was visiting up here. We were at a local park, a park where I've spent lots of time over the years. In the dream, we were in her car, and she wanted to show us that she could still drive. I was in the back seat. She started the car and almost immediately was going way too fast - before she went too far she lost control and we were off the road and on the grass, going quickly to - where? I was terrified we were going to hit either a tree or a picnic table. (in real life, those would have been hazards, but we also could have ended up in the Chenango River.) But after a few anxious seconds she was able to stop the car. We didn't hit anything or anyone.
At that point I woke up, heart pounding.
I don't think I need a dream interpreter to figure out what caused this nightmare, and what I am worrying about.
We'll just have to see. Me and so many other children and in laws in my shoes.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
13th Valentines Day in Heaven
On February 13, 1998 a friend and co-worker passed on to wherever we go after this life after a 16 month battle with lung cancer.
One day, she had found a lump on her neck. She went to her family doctor and he immediately knew something was wrong. Her bottom line was that she had cancer all through her body, so much so that it took almost two months to trace back where the cancer had originated. By then it was almost Christmastime, and she started treatment. From the first she knew the cancer was terminal but the hope was to prolong her life.
She was a talented craftsperson and spent her first Christmas with cancer making the homemade gifts she loved to make, including for her teenaged grandson and her co-workers: and that Christmas we got the final homemade ornaments she made for us every year.
By that first February after her diagnosis she was no longer able to work.
Sometime that summer, she called me at work and invited me to a picnic lunch. She drove down to her former office, picked me up, and took me to a local park, where she unpacked a lovely picnic set, complete with tiny salt and pepper shakers. She was having a good day. We had a lovely lunch. She said she did not feel sorry for herself, that although she had quit smoking years ago the diagnosis did not come as a shock because of what her husband and she had loved to do-restore old homes. During this work, she had been exposed to asbestos.
She lived in an old Victorian home in the Town of Maine, which they had restored.
At the time we picnicked, our office was literally fallling apart. Due to mismanagement, people were leaving. As summer passed into fall, the last three of us from before this regional manager was hired quit.
One of us got another job right away. The other two of us, along with our former office manager (another victim of the mismanagement), decided we would visit our former co-worker and have lunch with her every week. We did for several weeks, but she was getting weaker and weaker and we stopped-although we kept in touch with her husband.
Her second Christmas was not filled with homemade gifts. Instead, we went to her house (it was the first time I had been there) where her husband gave us a tour. She tried to show us around but had to quit when she couldn't catch her breath.
She was under hospice care.
In January she and her husband were watching the Winter Olympics ice skating. She had fallen asleep on the couch but when he tried to wake her, she would not rouse. He called Hospice, they came over. She had suffered a stroke.
She never regained consciousness.
The Tuesday before she died, the three of us visited her bedside. She lay on a bed in the living room, a radio nearby softly playing the country music she loved. A morphine pump dulled her pain. Her husband told us that although it seemed like she was in a coma, that she did have some awareness. If we wanted to, we could talk to her and she probably would understand, but would not be able to respond.
What do you say? What can you say? I spoke to her for a couple of minutes and said goodbye to her. I squeezed her hand.
I would love to imagine that she tried to squeeze it back.
On Saturday I got "the" phone call. My husband was at work. My son was going to a birthday party in a couple of hours and I did not want him to know I was crying. I vacuumed the floor, silent tears running down my face.
I still think of her every Valentine's Day. Her husband and her loved each other deeply. I think she always expected him to "go" first but that was not to be. The three of us kept in some touch with her husband but finally, as these things go many times, we drifted apart.
Her grandson would be almost 30 now. I had heard he went through some rough times after she died, and I hope he straightened out his life.
At the funeral home, photos of her family and her artwork were placed near her coffin. At the church service, the family invited the three of us to go to the graveside with them, as if we were family. We declined as we felt the family should be together.
In the flood of 2006, I lost almost all of the homemade ornaments she had made for me.
I still think of her when we drive through the Town of Maine.
One day, she had found a lump on her neck. She went to her family doctor and he immediately knew something was wrong. Her bottom line was that she had cancer all through her body, so much so that it took almost two months to trace back where the cancer had originated. By then it was almost Christmastime, and she started treatment. From the first she knew the cancer was terminal but the hope was to prolong her life.
She was a talented craftsperson and spent her first Christmas with cancer making the homemade gifts she loved to make, including for her teenaged grandson and her co-workers: and that Christmas we got the final homemade ornaments she made for us every year.
By that first February after her diagnosis she was no longer able to work.
Sometime that summer, she called me at work and invited me to a picnic lunch. She drove down to her former office, picked me up, and took me to a local park, where she unpacked a lovely picnic set, complete with tiny salt and pepper shakers. She was having a good day. We had a lovely lunch. She said she did not feel sorry for herself, that although she had quit smoking years ago the diagnosis did not come as a shock because of what her husband and she had loved to do-restore old homes. During this work, she had been exposed to asbestos.
She lived in an old Victorian home in the Town of Maine, which they had restored.
At the time we picnicked, our office was literally fallling apart. Due to mismanagement, people were leaving. As summer passed into fall, the last three of us from before this regional manager was hired quit.
One of us got another job right away. The other two of us, along with our former office manager (another victim of the mismanagement), decided we would visit our former co-worker and have lunch with her every week. We did for several weeks, but she was getting weaker and weaker and we stopped-although we kept in touch with her husband.
Her second Christmas was not filled with homemade gifts. Instead, we went to her house (it was the first time I had been there) where her husband gave us a tour. She tried to show us around but had to quit when she couldn't catch her breath.
She was under hospice care.
In January she and her husband were watching the Winter Olympics ice skating. She had fallen asleep on the couch but when he tried to wake her, she would not rouse. He called Hospice, they came over. She had suffered a stroke.
She never regained consciousness.
The Tuesday before she died, the three of us visited her bedside. She lay on a bed in the living room, a radio nearby softly playing the country music she loved. A morphine pump dulled her pain. Her husband told us that although it seemed like she was in a coma, that she did have some awareness. If we wanted to, we could talk to her and she probably would understand, but would not be able to respond.
What do you say? What can you say? I spoke to her for a couple of minutes and said goodbye to her. I squeezed her hand.
I would love to imagine that she tried to squeeze it back.
On Saturday I got "the" phone call. My husband was at work. My son was going to a birthday party in a couple of hours and I did not want him to know I was crying. I vacuumed the floor, silent tears running down my face.
I still think of her every Valentine's Day. Her husband and her loved each other deeply. I think she always expected him to "go" first but that was not to be. The three of us kept in some touch with her husband but finally, as these things go many times, we drifted apart.
Her grandson would be almost 30 now. I had heard he went through some rough times after she died, and I hope he straightened out his life.
At the funeral home, photos of her family and her artwork were placed near her coffin. At the church service, the family invited the three of us to go to the graveside with them, as if we were family. We declined as we felt the family should be together.
In the flood of 2006, I lost almost all of the homemade ornaments she had made for me.
I still think of her when we drive through the Town of Maine.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Book Stores of Dreams
There isn't much to say except my spouse is probably grateful that there are no book fairs like this in the area. It's enough to make me want to hop the Auto Train and get right down to Florida.
So....why can't we have something like this here? Or at least in Ithaca? Ithaca, an hour from here, already has one of the largest library book sales in the country. It has Cornell University and Ithaca College. It has the Book Barn in Dryden, an awesome used book venue I must admit I haven't been to in several years. Why? Well my long suffering spouse has lived with my used book collection for years - and going into this place would be like an addict visiting a crack house.
The Book Barn is in a semi-rural area near Dryden, NY (a suburb of Ithaca). It's....well sort of a barn. It's stuffed with books. It's great, but.....
I have to tell you about an even better used book store, Haslam's Book Store in St. Petersburg, FL. I am fortunate enough to have a relative in the area, and he treated us two years ago to a visit to Haslam's. What can I say except....big time crack house! (Haslam's is actually both a new and used book store...and it would hold its place in a major city like New York. No doubt in my mind. One day I may even visit their Doom Level.) Just thinking of the old and rare books.....
I went to their website after hearing about the 30th Annual Florida Antiquarian Book Fair, and saw where Randy Wayne White (author of the Doc Ford mystery series) was visiting the store later this month. Gaaayyyhh, now I really am going to be itching for a visit to St. Petersburg.
I'm so sick of winter. So sick.
Now I'll spend tonight dreaming of books. And, Sanibel Island. Sigh....
So....why can't we have something like this here? Or at least in Ithaca? Ithaca, an hour from here, already has one of the largest library book sales in the country. It has Cornell University and Ithaca College. It has the Book Barn in Dryden, an awesome used book venue I must admit I haven't been to in several years. Why? Well my long suffering spouse has lived with my used book collection for years - and going into this place would be like an addict visiting a crack house.
The Book Barn is in a semi-rural area near Dryden, NY (a suburb of Ithaca). It's....well sort of a barn. It's stuffed with books. It's great, but.....
I have to tell you about an even better used book store, Haslam's Book Store in St. Petersburg, FL. I am fortunate enough to have a relative in the area, and he treated us two years ago to a visit to Haslam's. What can I say except....big time crack house! (Haslam's is actually both a new and used book store...and it would hold its place in a major city like New York. No doubt in my mind. One day I may even visit their Doom Level.) Just thinking of the old and rare books.....
I went to their website after hearing about the 30th Annual Florida Antiquarian Book Fair, and saw where Randy Wayne White (author of the Doc Ford mystery series) was visiting the store later this month. Gaaayyyhh, now I really am going to be itching for a visit to St. Petersburg.
I'm so sick of winter. So sick.
Now I'll spend tonight dreaming of books. And, Sanibel Island. Sigh....
Monday, February 14, 2011
Watson's Secret
How many of you watched the IBM super-computer Watson battle all time Jeopardy champions Ken Jennings and Brad Rutter on Jeopardy tonight? It was amazing....and scary.
Online, I saw the comment that 'Watson cleaned Jenning's clock." That person was closer to the truth than he or she may have known. Or did the person know....the true secret of Watson?
Terminator series fans may have thought of Skynet....science fiction fans may have been reminded of HAL...but I bet not too many of you thought of Harlow Bundy.
Who he?
Let's turn back the, er, clock to the late 1880's when a man with the last name of Bundy developed a time recording device (the forerunner of our modern day time clock) and he and his brother ended up founding the Bundy Manufacturing Company here in the Triple Cities to manufacture the invention.
One of the brothers built a mansion on Main Street in Binghamton, which today is a museum (and well worth the visit.) As for the Bundy Manufacturing Company, it moved to nearby Endicott in 1906 and eventually became....IBM, through a series of mergers.
So why is the computer playing on Jeopardy called Watson and not Bundy?
Because, in 1914, one Thomas Watson joined the Computer Tabulating Recording Company, which had been formed through a merger of the Bundy Manufacturing Company and several other entities. In a long story which others can tell much better than I can, Thomas Watson renamed the company when he took control in 1924 and became the person known as the father of IBM. Thomas Watson is still revered in the Triple Cities today. The Endicott complex of IBM buildings stands, although much of it is no longer occupied by IBM.
When I came here in the 1980's, people aspired to work for IBM. Today, it is way shrunken. What remains? A few thousand employees and a street named after Thomas Watson, ....Watson Boulevard. (which, when it enters Johnson City, changes its name to Harry L. Drive - named, of course, after one of the Johnson family that Johnson City was named after. And of course, readers of this blog know what happened to THEIR company, Endicott-Johnson.)
In the meantime, IBM has moved on...and $30 million dollars later, its computer named Watson is playing Jeopardy while we humans watch in a combination of pride....and horrified fascination.
Watson even had to pass the same test human contestants must pass to get on the show.
Tonight we got through single Jeopardy. Tomorrow is Double Jeopardy and Final Jeopardy. Wednesday is an entire second game.
Will Watson continue to clean up? Or will humanity persevere and conquer? Will Watson become the first millionaire computer? (no, IBM will donate its earnings to charity. But just think if they allowed the computer to keep its earnings and invest them...)
I'll be in front of the TV, watching.
Online, I saw the comment that 'Watson cleaned Jenning's clock." That person was closer to the truth than he or she may have known. Or did the person know....the true secret of Watson?
Terminator series fans may have thought of Skynet....science fiction fans may have been reminded of HAL...but I bet not too many of you thought of Harlow Bundy.
Who he?
Let's turn back the, er, clock to the late 1880's when a man with the last name of Bundy developed a time recording device (the forerunner of our modern day time clock) and he and his brother ended up founding the Bundy Manufacturing Company here in the Triple Cities to manufacture the invention.
One of the brothers built a mansion on Main Street in Binghamton, which today is a museum (and well worth the visit.) As for the Bundy Manufacturing Company, it moved to nearby Endicott in 1906 and eventually became....IBM, through a series of mergers.
So why is the computer playing on Jeopardy called Watson and not Bundy?
Because, in 1914, one Thomas Watson joined the Computer Tabulating Recording Company, which had been formed through a merger of the Bundy Manufacturing Company and several other entities. In a long story which others can tell much better than I can, Thomas Watson renamed the company when he took control in 1924 and became the person known as the father of IBM. Thomas Watson is still revered in the Triple Cities today. The Endicott complex of IBM buildings stands, although much of it is no longer occupied by IBM.
When I came here in the 1980's, people aspired to work for IBM. Today, it is way shrunken. What remains? A few thousand employees and a street named after Thomas Watson, ....Watson Boulevard. (which, when it enters Johnson City, changes its name to Harry L. Drive - named, of course, after one of the Johnson family that Johnson City was named after. And of course, readers of this blog know what happened to THEIR company, Endicott-Johnson.)
In the meantime, IBM has moved on...and $30 million dollars later, its computer named Watson is playing Jeopardy while we humans watch in a combination of pride....and horrified fascination.
Watson even had to pass the same test human contestants must pass to get on the show.
Tonight we got through single Jeopardy. Tomorrow is Double Jeopardy and Final Jeopardy. Wednesday is an entire second game.
Will Watson continue to clean up? Or will humanity persevere and conquer? Will Watson become the first millionaire computer? (no, IBM will donate its earnings to charity. But just think if they allowed the computer to keep its earnings and invest them...)
I'll be in front of the TV, watching.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Chirp Chirp Winter is Almost Over
No, the snow hasn't magically melted nor will it for a while longer.
But this morning February 13....I walked outside my door-and the birds were singing.
YES!
This is the first sign that winter is loosening its grasp on the Southern Tier of upstate NY. The next step will be the sap rising in the trees. While traveling down Rt 17 this morning, I looked to see if that was the case but the tips of the trees along the road still were stark brown against the cloud sky. No signs of the red glow in the treetops that signals the sap rising.
That won't come quite yet. But it will. March will bring the time of maple sugaring. I just must be patient.
But one can dream. Dream dream dream....no more ice, no more snow, no more fear of falling. One day I'll go out and not only will the birds be singing, but the crocuses will be poking above the ground.
Still have about 8 inches of snow resting in our front yard. So no spring bulbs yet. But soon.
Please, soon.
But this morning February 13....I walked outside my door-and the birds were singing.
YES!
This is the first sign that winter is loosening its grasp on the Southern Tier of upstate NY. The next step will be the sap rising in the trees. While traveling down Rt 17 this morning, I looked to see if that was the case but the tips of the trees along the road still were stark brown against the cloud sky. No signs of the red glow in the treetops that signals the sap rising.
That won't come quite yet. But it will. March will bring the time of maple sugaring. I just must be patient.
But one can dream. Dream dream dream....no more ice, no more snow, no more fear of falling. One day I'll go out and not only will the birds be singing, but the crocuses will be poking above the ground.
Still have about 8 inches of snow resting in our front yard. So no spring bulbs yet. But soon.
Please, soon.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Them Changes
I'm trying to fool around with the best way to share a video on this blog. I tried a couple of different ways and this one seemed to work best. This is the Super Bowl ad created for Chrysler featuring rapper Eminem talking about the city he grew up in, to the beat of a song I love, Lose Yourself. (warning, explicit language.)
Ten years ago, if you had told me I would be praising Eminem in any context, I would have told you that you were sadly mistaken. In those days of the early 21st century, parents of school aged children dreaded any mention of Eminem. He was evil. He corrupted the young with horrible, violent lyrics.
Later, as a teen, my son had his poster in his room. I did not comment. Wise parents pick their battles with their teens.
Then, I listened to his more recent music. Especially "Lose Yourself". Hmmm.....
This is one of the main lessons aging teaches us. People change, and we change. And, things aren't always what they seem to be.
The auto industry has had to change, just like so many of us here in America, to survive. Detroit (which I have never visited, but I have been to Flint) has been through some very rough times, and this commercial can not disguise that their struggle has a long way to go.
You see, I live in a "burnt out industrial town", too. Not on the scale of Detroit, but we've seem hard times here too. Some places, especially nearby Johnson City, boast more crumbling, vacant factories than open, vibrant businesses. If you want to see them (and trust me, you probably don't), just drive a block or two off of Main Street and there they are, in all their former glory.
Sometimes I get so frustrated that people here dwell on the glory days of Endicott-Johnson that they don't spend enough time in the present. Detroit had to learn that the hard way with their auto industry, too.
A year or two ago, I blogged about walking around downtown Binghamton during a First Friday (first Friday of the month "art walk") and overheard a young couple comparing Binghamton, not kindly, to Detroit.
So, in a way, I took this commercial very personally. I can only hope that Detroit does rise from the ashes. If it does, some Americans may be very surprised how, and also many be surprised at the ethnic groups that make it happen. But we will just have to wait and see.
There is one P.S., though: my husband and I have only owned one American car (a Saturn) since 1976. The other cars have been imports, ranging from Germany to Japan to Korea. There's a reason for that. We never found much to like in American cars. Many of our generation felt the same way.
But in the meantime....of the various relatives that condemned us for owning imports....well, guess what many of them own now.
Yes, times do change.
And soon, they are going to change even more.
Ten years ago, if you had told me I would be praising Eminem in any context, I would have told you that you were sadly mistaken. In those days of the early 21st century, parents of school aged children dreaded any mention of Eminem. He was evil. He corrupted the young with horrible, violent lyrics.
Later, as a teen, my son had his poster in his room. I did not comment. Wise parents pick their battles with their teens.
Then, I listened to his more recent music. Especially "Lose Yourself". Hmmm.....
This is one of the main lessons aging teaches us. People change, and we change. And, things aren't always what they seem to be.
The auto industry has had to change, just like so many of us here in America, to survive. Detroit (which I have never visited, but I have been to Flint) has been through some very rough times, and this commercial can not disguise that their struggle has a long way to go.
You see, I live in a "burnt out industrial town", too. Not on the scale of Detroit, but we've seem hard times here too. Some places, especially nearby Johnson City, boast more crumbling, vacant factories than open, vibrant businesses. If you want to see them (and trust me, you probably don't), just drive a block or two off of Main Street and there they are, in all their former glory.
Sometimes I get so frustrated that people here dwell on the glory days of Endicott-Johnson that they don't spend enough time in the present. Detroit had to learn that the hard way with their auto industry, too.
A year or two ago, I blogged about walking around downtown Binghamton during a First Friday (first Friday of the month "art walk") and overheard a young couple comparing Binghamton, not kindly, to Detroit.
So, in a way, I took this commercial very personally. I can only hope that Detroit does rise from the ashes. If it does, some Americans may be very surprised how, and also many be surprised at the ethnic groups that make it happen. But we will just have to wait and see.
There is one P.S., though: my husband and I have only owned one American car (a Saturn) since 1976. The other cars have been imports, ranging from Germany to Japan to Korea. There's a reason for that. We never found much to like in American cars. Many of our generation felt the same way.
But in the meantime....of the various relatives that condemned us for owning imports....well, guess what many of them own now.
Yes, times do change.
And soon, they are going to change even more.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Global....something
Bad weather is a'comin.
So how would I know that? Well, from some very bad memories.
In 1980, we lived in Wichita, KS. A record low was set on February 10, 1980. It snowed on April 4, 1980. And, what followed was the summer from hell, highlighted by highs of 110 on July 10, 111 on July 11, and 112 on July 12. All together, 20 heat records were set between June 24 and August 13, 1980, "all of which still stand", according to NOAA. My spouse had an outdoor job. We did not have air conditioning in our house.
We left for good the following March.
Well....this morning (February 10, 2011) Wichita hit a new record low of minus 17. So did Fayetteville, Arkansas (also minus 17), where we lived after moving from Wichita. This followed record snowfalls on February 9. In Springdale, AR (where we also lived after moving from Wichita), someone measured 24 inches of snow on their porch. Nearby Northwest Arkansas airport hit a record low of minus 20 this morning.
The low at our house for this winter, in the Triple Cities of upstate NY, on the other hand, has been minus five. It is supposed to reach zero tonight.
I was actually seriously thinking about visiting Arkansas this spring to "celebrate" the 30th anniversary of us leaving. Sure glad we changed our travel plans.
So, are Kansas and Arkansas the new snowbelt? Not exactly. While we here in Binghamton have enjoyed a winter full of single digit lows and recently icy sidewalks, Fayetteville, AR should be in the 50's by the weekend. Good thing too, as they probably have as much snow removal equipment as they did when we lived there...which wasn't much.
Meanwhile, New York City continues to suffer with ice and snow.
Climate change? Global warming? Sunspots? You decide. For sure, the Weather Channel has it made.
There are drawbacks to getting older. Too many memories. Finding patterns. Dreading another 1980.
Sure hope I'm wrong.
So how would I know that? Well, from some very bad memories.
In 1980, we lived in Wichita, KS. A record low was set on February 10, 1980. It snowed on April 4, 1980. And, what followed was the summer from hell, highlighted by highs of 110 on July 10, 111 on July 11, and 112 on July 12. All together, 20 heat records were set between June 24 and August 13, 1980, "all of which still stand", according to NOAA. My spouse had an outdoor job. We did not have air conditioning in our house.
We left for good the following March.
Well....this morning (February 10, 2011) Wichita hit a new record low of minus 17. So did Fayetteville, Arkansas (also minus 17), where we lived after moving from Wichita. This followed record snowfalls on February 9. In Springdale, AR (where we also lived after moving from Wichita), someone measured 24 inches of snow on their porch. Nearby Northwest Arkansas airport hit a record low of minus 20 this morning.
The low at our house for this winter, in the Triple Cities of upstate NY, on the other hand, has been minus five. It is supposed to reach zero tonight.
I was actually seriously thinking about visiting Arkansas this spring to "celebrate" the 30th anniversary of us leaving. Sure glad we changed our travel plans.
So, are Kansas and Arkansas the new snowbelt? Not exactly. While we here in Binghamton have enjoyed a winter full of single digit lows and recently icy sidewalks, Fayetteville, AR should be in the 50's by the weekend. Good thing too, as they probably have as much snow removal equipment as they did when we lived there...which wasn't much.
Meanwhile, New York City continues to suffer with ice and snow.
Climate change? Global warming? Sunspots? You decide. For sure, the Weather Channel has it made.
There are drawbacks to getting older. Too many memories. Finding patterns. Dreading another 1980.
Sure hope I'm wrong.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
7th (Snow) Fall
Falling has been on my mind a lot lately. So has aging.
The other day, the Weather Channel talked about the 7th major snowfall set to hit the NY metropolitan area. I was downstate about 10 days ago, helping my mother in law, who had fallen in her home two weeks before. An unusual amount of snow has fallen, leaving massive drifts and narrower than normal roads. This kind of thing is somewhat normal for municipalities in our area (especially to the north of us) but not for NYC and the area just north.
My mother in law, injured, has been almost a prisoner in her home, due to her fall and the snowfall. She hasn't tried to drive since the fall-and there are few public transit options in her area. Even when she feels recovered enough to drive, I wonder how she will cope with the changed landscape.
It's not my mother in law's first fall, either.
Then, it happened to me. Last Tuesday, I was walking in my neighborhood. Fresh snow covered the sidewalk. I should have known better - this particular house, I knew, doesn't take good care of their sidewalks. I thought, though, there shouldn't be a problem.
I was wrong. There was ice under the snow. My feet slid from under, I fell on my butt, and hit an icebank on my right side.
I thought I wasn't hurt. I got up, my dignity slightly damaged (someone was cleaning off their car, and I don't think even noticed), and proceeded on my way. But by the time I got to work, I knew I had hurt myself.
Three days later I saw my massage therapist, my back hurting and pain occasionally shooting down my leg. He worked on me for an hour. He said nothing felt wrong, but I obviously had given myself quite a jolt. Even now, a week later, my back still doesn't feel right.
I've fallen on the ice before trying to get to work - although I certainly don't try to make a habit of it. I don't think I've fallen on ice in about three or four years, though. (I do have ice cleats, if it gets really bad.) Other times I bounced back. This time, not as fast. I'm sure the extra weight age (and other factors) have put on me haven't helped.
The next day, one of my husband's co workers, who happens to be the brother of someone who works at my company, fell on the ice on his driveway (freezing rain having fallen) flat on his back. He had a backpack on because his school aged daughter had asked that he bring the backpack out to his car. No lasting damage, fortunately, because of the backpack (for one thing, it probably prevented him from hitting his head.). His doctor told him to put heat pads on his back. Maybe I should have done that.
Meanwhile, my balance stinks and I have to do something about it. My local Y (where I exercise) doesn't offer Tai Chi, which I've read could be of help. Yoga, I'm not so sure about, with my back problems. I've heard mixed things about Pilates for those with back problems. I need a back friendly exercise that will help with my balance. My search will continue. As for my mother in law.....
My mother in law-well she is in her 80's and she is not bouncing back very quickly. I fear she will never be the same, although it could have been worse. She said to me "I've fallen before and hurt myself more, but this time it is just not healing."
Aging stinks. So does winter.
The other day, the Weather Channel talked about the 7th major snowfall set to hit the NY metropolitan area. I was downstate about 10 days ago, helping my mother in law, who had fallen in her home two weeks before. An unusual amount of snow has fallen, leaving massive drifts and narrower than normal roads. This kind of thing is somewhat normal for municipalities in our area (especially to the north of us) but not for NYC and the area just north.
My mother in law, injured, has been almost a prisoner in her home, due to her fall and the snowfall. She hasn't tried to drive since the fall-and there are few public transit options in her area. Even when she feels recovered enough to drive, I wonder how she will cope with the changed landscape.
It's not my mother in law's first fall, either.
Then, it happened to me. Last Tuesday, I was walking in my neighborhood. Fresh snow covered the sidewalk. I should have known better - this particular house, I knew, doesn't take good care of their sidewalks. I thought, though, there shouldn't be a problem.
I was wrong. There was ice under the snow. My feet slid from under, I fell on my butt, and hit an icebank on my right side.
I thought I wasn't hurt. I got up, my dignity slightly damaged (someone was cleaning off their car, and I don't think even noticed), and proceeded on my way. But by the time I got to work, I knew I had hurt myself.
Three days later I saw my massage therapist, my back hurting and pain occasionally shooting down my leg. He worked on me for an hour. He said nothing felt wrong, but I obviously had given myself quite a jolt. Even now, a week later, my back still doesn't feel right.
I've fallen on the ice before trying to get to work - although I certainly don't try to make a habit of it. I don't think I've fallen on ice in about three or four years, though. (I do have ice cleats, if it gets really bad.) Other times I bounced back. This time, not as fast. I'm sure the extra weight age (and other factors) have put on me haven't helped.
The next day, one of my husband's co workers, who happens to be the brother of someone who works at my company, fell on the ice on his driveway (freezing rain having fallen) flat on his back. He had a backpack on because his school aged daughter had asked that he bring the backpack out to his car. No lasting damage, fortunately, because of the backpack (for one thing, it probably prevented him from hitting his head.). His doctor told him to put heat pads on his back. Maybe I should have done that.
Meanwhile, my balance stinks and I have to do something about it. My local Y (where I exercise) doesn't offer Tai Chi, which I've read could be of help. Yoga, I'm not so sure about, with my back problems. I've heard mixed things about Pilates for those with back problems. I need a back friendly exercise that will help with my balance. My search will continue. As for my mother in law.....
My mother in law-well she is in her 80's and she is not bouncing back very quickly. I fear she will never be the same, although it could have been worse. She said to me "I've fallen before and hurt myself more, but this time it is just not healing."
Aging stinks. So does winter.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Farming During a Revolution Part 2
Today's "what the heck" moment came when I was playing FarmVille, picking up the gifts and helping out my FarmVille friend in Tunisia....while listening, live, to President Mubarak (of Egypt)'s speech.
The Tunisian revolution has spread. And while I listened to Mubarak announce that his government would resign and there would be a new government tomorrow (although he was going to stay in power), I was gathering valentines, wooden boards, bushels of produce and freshly "baked" virtual bakery goods sent to me from Tunisia.
Now, I am watching live riots in the streets, in the dark. People clapping and shouting, cars on fire.
The unrest is spreading to Algeria, to Syria.
Cairo is on fire.
My FarmVille friend says, of Facebook, that it "helped overthrow a President/Dictator who was in power for 23 years. 3 weeks of protests and the flow of info on Facebook brought him down." But the situation is wearing on him, there in Tunis. We are very lucky, here in the U.S. -at least for right now. We get to watch it on TV.
My FarmVille friend is still living it.
The Tunisian revolution has spread. And while I listened to Mubarak announce that his government would resign and there would be a new government tomorrow (although he was going to stay in power), I was gathering valentines, wooden boards, bushels of produce and freshly "baked" virtual bakery goods sent to me from Tunisia.
Now, I am watching live riots in the streets, in the dark. People clapping and shouting, cars on fire.
The unrest is spreading to Algeria, to Syria.
Cairo is on fire.
My FarmVille friend says, of Facebook, that it "helped overthrow a President/Dictator who was in power for 23 years. 3 weeks of protests and the flow of info on Facebook brought him down." But the situation is wearing on him, there in Tunis. We are very lucky, here in the U.S. -at least for right now. We get to watch it on TV.
My FarmVille friend is still living it.
Another 25 years ago Moment - Challenger
There are two events linked together in my mind and heart.
January 21, 1986: the death of my father. And, a week later, the explosion of the Challenger.
I wasn't a member of the generation which had this event as their "defining moment" but I can still remember exactly where I was. I was in an office in Fayetteville, Arkansas, that Tuesday, just having returned from burying my father out on Long Island. I was at work, when one of my co workers announced he had just spoken to one of our customers, and he relayed the news to us.
It was the first time I had felt anything in a week. Simply, I had been numb since getting that phone call that my father had passed away in a Brooklyn emergency room. This was the first thing I felt since that phone call.
The space program had meant so much to me growing up. I became a big fan of science fiction - for some years, in fact, it was all I read. So the shock penetrated through the numbness. Now I was really surrounded by death.
It is so hard to imagine that 25 years have passed since that day, and here we are, with the manned space program soon to end. 25 years later, and an astronaut by the name of Mark Kelly ponders whether he will fly in that last mission, because his wife lies in a rehab center, survivor of an attempted assassination.
Two 25 year commemorations in a week. And to think I was a teenager when we had the 25th anniversary of the end of World War II. Time flies when you are having fun (or not).
January 21, 1986: the death of my father. And, a week later, the explosion of the Challenger.
I wasn't a member of the generation which had this event as their "defining moment" but I can still remember exactly where I was. I was in an office in Fayetteville, Arkansas, that Tuesday, just having returned from burying my father out on Long Island. I was at work, when one of my co workers announced he had just spoken to one of our customers, and he relayed the news to us.
It was the first time I had felt anything in a week. Simply, I had been numb since getting that phone call that my father had passed away in a Brooklyn emergency room. This was the first thing I felt since that phone call.
The space program had meant so much to me growing up. I became a big fan of science fiction - for some years, in fact, it was all I read. So the shock penetrated through the numbness. Now I was really surrounded by death.
It is so hard to imagine that 25 years have passed since that day, and here we are, with the manned space program soon to end. 25 years later, and an astronaut by the name of Mark Kelly ponders whether he will fly in that last mission, because his wife lies in a rehab center, survivor of an attempted assassination.
Two 25 year commemorations in a week. And to think I was a teenager when we had the 25th anniversary of the end of World War II. Time flies when you are having fun (or not).
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Another Johnson City Downtown Idea
Let's see. Downtown Johnson City has been declining for years. Although, I blogged a month or two ago, that there seems to be a little improvement: thanks, no less, to a Wal-Mart opening a mile or so away, I really can't see much else happening.
So finally there is an idea floated: free parking.
Two hours worth. Long enough to shop, or eat.
Of course, if a certain election issue had been passed, there wouldn't even be a Johnson City right now. Pick, pick, pick.
Free parking would be nice. Even nicer would be a downtown where people feel safe in walking. Or working. But, it's a start. If you get people downtown, then momentum may build, and that day of a safe downtown may come. (the only question is-Endicott thought of this years ago, why did it take the trustees so long?)
I wonder if the Wal-Mart effect is working. I could really dream, and hope that some of those nice historic buildings downtown get renovated.....one day. But as they say, long journeys start with a single step. Or, parking space, if you will.
So, trustees, what about it? Are you going to vote free parking in?
So finally there is an idea floated: free parking.
Two hours worth. Long enough to shop, or eat.
Of course, if a certain election issue had been passed, there wouldn't even be a Johnson City right now. Pick, pick, pick.
Free parking would be nice. Even nicer would be a downtown where people feel safe in walking. Or working. But, it's a start. If you get people downtown, then momentum may build, and that day of a safe downtown may come. (the only question is-Endicott thought of this years ago, why did it take the trustees so long?)
I wonder if the Wal-Mart effect is working. I could really dream, and hope that some of those nice historic buildings downtown get renovated.....one day. But as they say, long journeys start with a single step. Or, parking space, if you will.
So, trustees, what about it? Are you going to vote free parking in?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
It Isn't Easy Heating Green
The repairman left about an hour ago.
I had briefly blogged, earlier this week, about my concerns that our year old "green" heating system would not be able to cope with the minus temperatures of earlier this week. Well it did....and fortunately for us, chose this afternoon (41 above) to break down, rather than a couple of days ago.
When spouse came home from work, he noticed it wasn't as warm as it should be. Going down to the basement, he was greeted by a flashing light and a notification of "A6". He whipped out the owners manual and "A6" was pump failure. He called the contractor who put the system in (December of 2009) and a repairman came out - several hours later; apparently they were having a lot of "no heat" calls.
Wonder if we were the only A6's.
Not only that, but the tankless hot water heater associated with the "furnace" was down too. So we had neither hot water nor heat, thanks to the wonders of modern technology.
Hmmm. We got rid of an old furnace, almost 19 years old, last year because of a tax break, and a rebate from our gas/electric utility. That furnace never gave us any major trouble. So we took the green plunge and....
It seems that these pumps have proved troublesome. Apparently there is a newer version, and hopefully we will get one tomorrow. Right now we have a temporary pump, so at least we have heat. And hot water. The best part was, the unit was still under warranty.
I still like the idea of "heating green". But my faith in any type of computerized appliance/system continues to fade, as does my faith in much that is modern (period). We recently got rid of a washer, bought new about 5 years ago, that continuously had the same part break down. We bought a used one, without the fancy bells and whistles. So far it is working fine.
Now, to hold our breath about the heating system. If it had broken down two days earlier, it would have been below zero. Two days later...we would have been out of town.
At least it had good timing.
I had briefly blogged, earlier this week, about my concerns that our year old "green" heating system would not be able to cope with the minus temperatures of earlier this week. Well it did....and fortunately for us, chose this afternoon (41 above) to break down, rather than a couple of days ago.
When spouse came home from work, he noticed it wasn't as warm as it should be. Going down to the basement, he was greeted by a flashing light and a notification of "A6". He whipped out the owners manual and "A6" was pump failure. He called the contractor who put the system in (December of 2009) and a repairman came out - several hours later; apparently they were having a lot of "no heat" calls.
Wonder if we were the only A6's.
Not only that, but the tankless hot water heater associated with the "furnace" was down too. So we had neither hot water nor heat, thanks to the wonders of modern technology.
Hmmm. We got rid of an old furnace, almost 19 years old, last year because of a tax break, and a rebate from our gas/electric utility. That furnace never gave us any major trouble. So we took the green plunge and....
It seems that these pumps have proved troublesome. Apparently there is a newer version, and hopefully we will get one tomorrow. Right now we have a temporary pump, so at least we have heat. And hot water. The best part was, the unit was still under warranty.
I still like the idea of "heating green". But my faith in any type of computerized appliance/system continues to fade, as does my faith in much that is modern (period). We recently got rid of a washer, bought new about 5 years ago, that continuously had the same part break down. We bought a used one, without the fancy bells and whistles. So far it is working fine.
Now, to hold our breath about the heating system. If it had broken down two days earlier, it would have been below zero. Two days later...we would have been out of town.
At least it had good timing.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Fire and...Water
I bet that businesses near the Press Building in downtown Binghamton are revamping their disaster recovery plans in the wake of the December fire that I blogged about earlier.
Sadly, the latest news concerning damage to the historic Press Building is that the damage is a lot more extensive than first suspected - not so much from fire but from the water used to fight the fire in the neighboring Midtown Mall (aka Strong Building).
Chenango Street is still closed at the intersection where the buildings burned. The Midtown Mall is boarded up and much of the damage is not visible to the public.
The law firm that helped renovate the building-just a mere two years ago? -and partially occupied the building, is now in the position of setting up temporary offices. Fortunately they had a good disaster recovery plan. A lot of downtown businesses are helping them, in the spirit of "the best of Binghamton", including other downtown Binghamton law firms and a neighboring life insurance company. One day they may move back in but it will be a long hard process.
The winter drags on....and only time will tell if the Press Building will be saved.
Sadly, the latest news concerning damage to the historic Press Building is that the damage is a lot more extensive than first suspected - not so much from fire but from the water used to fight the fire in the neighboring Midtown Mall (aka Strong Building).
Chenango Street is still closed at the intersection where the buildings burned. The Midtown Mall is boarded up and much of the damage is not visible to the public.
The law firm that helped renovate the building-just a mere two years ago? -and partially occupied the building, is now in the position of setting up temporary offices. Fortunately they had a good disaster recovery plan. A lot of downtown businesses are helping them, in the spirit of "the best of Binghamton", including other downtown Binghamton law firms and a neighboring life insurance company. One day they may move back in but it will be a long hard process.
The winter drags on....and only time will tell if the Press Building will be saved.
Monday, January 24, 2011
17 Below!
17 below zero - not at my house but at my son's. (he's in a cold spot). Others I know living in the country reached the double digits of below zero so it wasn't just him. We reached 6 below at our house, mercifully without much wind, so it was mainly a non event. And, our heating system (see last post) worked just fine.
So, for me, Arkansas still holds my "lifetime" cold record of -15.
The only nice thing about this type of weather is we have sunny days. Nothing like the sun to lift your spirits.
But there is sunlight at the end of the winter tunnel: the days are getting visibly longer on both ends (sunrise and sunset). Before you know it I'll be able to walk after work....no wait, there is still that little matter of all that snow on the ground. Especially in Binghamton, which doesn't believe in residential snow removal.
Now...back to normal. Tomorrow back to the clouds, back to some snow.
So, for me, Arkansas still holds my "lifetime" cold record of -15.
The only nice thing about this type of weather is we have sunny days. Nothing like the sun to lift your spirits.
But there is sunlight at the end of the winter tunnel: the days are getting visibly longer on both ends (sunrise and sunset). Before you know it I'll be able to walk after work....no wait, there is still that little matter of all that snow on the ground. Especially in Binghamton, which doesn't believe in residential snow removal.
Now...back to normal. Tomorrow back to the clouds, back to some snow.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Arctic White Chill Descends on our "Green" Heating System
Right now (6:15pm) it is 6 above. It is supposed to be at least 6 below by morning.
This type of weather is not unknown but it has been a few years since our last major cold snap - and the first since we've gotten a new heating system, a "green" gas-run heating system made by a company called Quietside.http://www.quietside.com/Quietside/index.php?option=com_wrapper&view=wrapper&Itemid=2 Instead of our old hot water heat system, we have a small box on our basement wall and a vent in our back yard that is steaming up quite a storm right now. We also have a tankless hot water heater. We've had this system a little over a year (thanks in part to some tax breaks but it was still a stretch for us financially) and now it is going to have its first real test.
Others in NY would laugh at this trepidation. In Lake Placid, for example, it will probably be around minus 25 or so by morning.
I have a lot of memories of "extreme cold". In fact, our coldest weather within spouse and my experience wasn't even here: it was in Northwest Arkansas. Our thermometer got down to minus 15. A neighbor a little lower than us had his thermometer measure at -21. As all our wild blackberries died, I don't doubt the minus 21. And we survived this with a homemade barrel wood stove. It wasn't easy and it wasn't comfortable, and I'll tell the story (maybe) in this blog one day. But we did it.
It was common, in that part of the country, for pipes to freeze. Radio and TV stations would broadcast warnings for people to keep a trickle of water running in their pipes. Moving water doesn't freeze as fast.
Now, in the comfort of our more mainstream "American" home, we will see how the new heater fares. (and how our gas bill fares.) So far so good.
More later this week.
In the meantime.....dreaming of the South.
This type of weather is not unknown but it has been a few years since our last major cold snap - and the first since we've gotten a new heating system, a "green" gas-run heating system made by a company called Quietside.http://www.quietside.com/Quietside/index.php?option=com_wrapper&view=wrapper&Itemid=2 Instead of our old hot water heat system, we have a small box on our basement wall and a vent in our back yard that is steaming up quite a storm right now. We also have a tankless hot water heater. We've had this system a little over a year (thanks in part to some tax breaks but it was still a stretch for us financially) and now it is going to have its first real test.
Others in NY would laugh at this trepidation. In Lake Placid, for example, it will probably be around minus 25 or so by morning.
I have a lot of memories of "extreme cold". In fact, our coldest weather within spouse and my experience wasn't even here: it was in Northwest Arkansas. Our thermometer got down to minus 15. A neighbor a little lower than us had his thermometer measure at -21. As all our wild blackberries died, I don't doubt the minus 21. And we survived this with a homemade barrel wood stove. It wasn't easy and it wasn't comfortable, and I'll tell the story (maybe) in this blog one day. But we did it.
It was common, in that part of the country, for pipes to freeze. Radio and TV stations would broadcast warnings for people to keep a trickle of water running in their pipes. Moving water doesn't freeze as fast.
Now, in the comfort of our more mainstream "American" home, we will see how the new heater fares. (and how our gas bill fares.) So far so good.
More later this week.
In the meantime.....dreaming of the South.
Friday, January 21, 2011
25 Years Ago Today in Brooklyn
25 years ago tonight I got a phone call...my father had passed away in an emergency room in Brooklyn.
My father was an almost-lifelong resident of New York City, a veteran of the Army Air Force, a single father, a loving husband, a man who liked to invent and..a traumatic brain injury survivor back in the day when there was little or no support for a brain injury.
When I follow the progress of Gabrielle Giffords in the news, I think of my father, and I know a little of the hard road back that she faces (despite the optimism of the rehab center she entered today.)
I think of the many sacrifices he made for me, when I was too young to appreciate it. I think of the many walks we took on Sunday afternoons when I was a little girl. He used to love to watch houses being built. I would walk at his side, transistor radio blaring a Yankees game. He could strike up a conversation with anyone, and his very shy daughter must have puzzled him tremendously.
He loved to read, bought two newspapers daily, and read them on his commute to and from work on the subway.
He loved his city. He gave birth to a daughter who fled that same city as soon as she graduated college (who didn't even attend her graduation, she was so eager to leave).
He would have been 97 years old in July. But by writing about him, he will live on forever (or at least as long as Blogger stores blog entries) through the Internet.
You did a good job, Dad. You passed on your love of history. In some ways I have turned into you. I still don't step on metal grates in the winter because you taught me not to.
I will always miss you.
My father was an almost-lifelong resident of New York City, a veteran of the Army Air Force, a single father, a loving husband, a man who liked to invent and..a traumatic brain injury survivor back in the day when there was little or no support for a brain injury.
When I follow the progress of Gabrielle Giffords in the news, I think of my father, and I know a little of the hard road back that she faces (despite the optimism of the rehab center she entered today.)
I think of the many sacrifices he made for me, when I was too young to appreciate it. I think of the many walks we took on Sunday afternoons when I was a little girl. He used to love to watch houses being built. I would walk at his side, transistor radio blaring a Yankees game. He could strike up a conversation with anyone, and his very shy daughter must have puzzled him tremendously.
He loved to read, bought two newspapers daily, and read them on his commute to and from work on the subway.
He loved his city. He gave birth to a daughter who fled that same city as soon as she graduated college (who didn't even attend her graduation, she was so eager to leave).
He would have been 97 years old in July. But by writing about him, he will live on forever (or at least as long as Blogger stores blog entries) through the Internet.
You did a good job, Dad. You passed on your love of history. In some ways I have turned into you. I still don't step on metal grates in the winter because you taught me not to.
I will always miss you.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tracking the Revolution using FarmVille
The last 24 hours or so has been a surreal experience.
Yesterday evening I was on Facebook when a relative contacted me. I have a cousin stationed in Tunis, Tunisia, and this relative had asked for everyone he knew to pray for the safety of the cousin and family. (If you haven't been following the news, do so: there is quite an interesting political situation going on there right now.) He gave me some updates and I decided I would try to friend the cousin's husband, who was posting several updates daily regarding their situation. His posts were pretty scary, especially the part about sleeping on the floor the night before with their children because of nearby gunfire.
So, while my spouse was on the phone with his family about a situation in his family, I was chatting with someone in Texas and trying to friend someone in Tunisia.
Anyway, I sent a friend request and when I came home from work tonight, I found he had accepted. Now I can read his posts directly instead of getting them through the other relative.
I also had a pleasant surprise. The cousin's husband plays FarmVille. And, he had recently planted some 12 and 24 hour growth crops.
Farming during a revolution. Now I will be able to track how stable his everyday situation is through how he plants his crops. Or, maybe he is just an optimist.
Gives a new meaning to social gaming, doesn't it.
Yesterday evening I was on Facebook when a relative contacted me. I have a cousin stationed in Tunis, Tunisia, and this relative had asked for everyone he knew to pray for the safety of the cousin and family. (If you haven't been following the news, do so: there is quite an interesting political situation going on there right now.) He gave me some updates and I decided I would try to friend the cousin's husband, who was posting several updates daily regarding their situation. His posts were pretty scary, especially the part about sleeping on the floor the night before with their children because of nearby gunfire.
So, while my spouse was on the phone with his family about a situation in his family, I was chatting with someone in Texas and trying to friend someone in Tunisia.
Anyway, I sent a friend request and when I came home from work tonight, I found he had accepted. Now I can read his posts directly instead of getting them through the other relative.
I also had a pleasant surprise. The cousin's husband plays FarmVille. And, he had recently planted some 12 and 24 hour growth crops.
Farming during a revolution. Now I will be able to track how stable his everyday situation is through how he plants his crops. Or, maybe he is just an optimist.
Gives a new meaning to social gaming, doesn't it.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
For Binghamton Fire, It's "Deja Vu All Over Again"
Yogi Berra couldn't have said it better. The actual headline was "Will the Strong survive?"
I had blogged about the fire in December that could have taken out three historic buildings in downtown Binghamton. The fire started in something called the "Midtown Mall" which originally was called the Strong building.
Someone, right after the fire, had promised me some historic photos of downtown that I could post on this website, including at least two pictures of other historic downtown fires. I still don't have the promised photos, but the newspaper article has a picture of a 1919 fire (a fire with similarities to the December fire) next to a photo of last month's fire.
Similar? Well, both fires apparently started in similar areas of the building. Both fires didn't involve injuries (thankfully) but the fire fighters of 1919 and 2011 had to use heroic measures to save the buildings.
In 1919 the "phoenix rose from the ashes", so to speak, and the department store that occupied part of the building stayed in business, and even expanded, until the 1970's and the move to suburban mall shopping killed it.
There had also been a masonic temple, and that was rebuilt on Main Street in Binghamton in 1922. That Main Street building has had a bit of an interesting history but today stands majestic, but empty. Its renovation ended, partly done, over 20 years ago.
Let's hope the same doesn't happen for the Strong building. Downtown Binghamton deserves better.
(And let's hope I can get hold of those photos. I'd love to post them!)
I had blogged about the fire in December that could have taken out three historic buildings in downtown Binghamton. The fire started in something called the "Midtown Mall" which originally was called the Strong building.
Someone, right after the fire, had promised me some historic photos of downtown that I could post on this website, including at least two pictures of other historic downtown fires. I still don't have the promised photos, but the newspaper article has a picture of a 1919 fire (a fire with similarities to the December fire) next to a photo of last month's fire.
Similar? Well, both fires apparently started in similar areas of the building. Both fires didn't involve injuries (thankfully) but the fire fighters of 1919 and 2011 had to use heroic measures to save the buildings.
In 1919 the "phoenix rose from the ashes", so to speak, and the department store that occupied part of the building stayed in business, and even expanded, until the 1970's and the move to suburban mall shopping killed it.
There had also been a masonic temple, and that was rebuilt on Main Street in Binghamton in 1922. That Main Street building has had a bit of an interesting history but today stands majestic, but empty. Its renovation ended, partly done, over 20 years ago.
Let's hope the same doesn't happen for the Strong building. Downtown Binghamton deserves better.
(And let's hope I can get hold of those photos. I'd love to post them!)
Social Justice Brewing in Americus Coffee
Today, on a chilly January day in upstate NY (supposed to go down to zero tonight) I visit, in cyberspirit, Americus, Georgia. It is 62 degrees according to a blog I read by a resident, and the small amount of snow they had a week ago is now a distant memory.
One thing lead to another and I ended up visiting the website of Americus's coffee shop, located not very far from the Habitat for Humanity store in Americus. We had visited this place last March and it is the real deal - people who are in business to serve humanity and promote social justice - not to promote "fair trade" as a type of brand. (In fact, you can read more on their site about trying to stop what some people are trying to make "Fair Trade" into.)
The description of their recent "snowstorm" was, I hope, tongue in cheek. You have to read it and enjoy (hopefully, while brewing a good cup of coffee.)
There is a coffee on the website that sounds so delicious that we would buy it except right now we have bags of coffee on the microwave, in the freezer.....I don't know how we got overstocked but we did, so it is going to be a few months before we have to buy coffee again.
I've been a bit "under the weather" the last few days, and thoughts of that 62 degree Americus sunshine sound really appealing just about now.
One thing lead to another and I ended up visiting the website of Americus's coffee shop, located not very far from the Habitat for Humanity store in Americus. We had visited this place last March and it is the real deal - people who are in business to serve humanity and promote social justice - not to promote "fair trade" as a type of brand. (In fact, you can read more on their site about trying to stop what some people are trying to make "Fair Trade" into.)
The description of their recent "snowstorm" was, I hope, tongue in cheek. You have to read it and enjoy (hopefully, while brewing a good cup of coffee.)
There is a coffee on the website that sounds so delicious that we would buy it except right now we have bags of coffee on the microwave, in the freezer.....I don't know how we got overstocked but we did, so it is going to be a few months before we have to buy coffee again.
I've been a bit "under the weather" the last few days, and thoughts of that 62 degree Americus sunshine sound really appealing just about now.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Duck!
So many people, when they think of ducks, think of several things:
1. That "duck" dish that some Chinese takeout places sell, the one with pieces of duck crowned with tops of fatty skin
2. Those nice ducks quacking in ponds, with the brownish females and the colorful males. Nice to throw bread to and watch them dive for it
3. And, if they have been to a zoo, maybe those really beautiful mandarin ducks (not related to the ducks in item #1). Long ago, when I lived in Wichita, Kansas, I lived near a park that had a small (free!) zoo, and they had a pair of these ducks, if my memory is correct. They were so colorful and regal.
4. Ducks for hunting, duck decoys, duck and cover...
Many of us don't know it, but ducks are so much more. How about eggs? Years ago, when spouse and I lived in rural Arkansas, we raised ducks for eggs. We mail ordered a breed called the Campbell, which, sad to say, is now on a "watch" list of rare, endangered livestock. The Campbell duck is a bit on the thin side, with an upright posture. Their eggs are a tiny bit bigger than chicken eggs, white in color. They make excellent baked goods - I would gladly buy duck eggs from someone for that purpose. So moist, and like goods baked with honey, containing natural preservatives. They also make excellent hard boiled eggs. (sorry, vegan friends.) Scrambled or omelet- not so good-their whites have a consistency, if cooked in that way, that reminded me of (sorry), mucus.
Need a good, lean duck for meat? The muscovy is your choice. We personally did not keep them as we leaned more towards birds for eggs and companionship (can you tell I love birds?) but many small farmsteads in Northwest Arkansas kept them. They are large, and they don't quack. They have very warty heads but, as people like to say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The game FarmVille (no, please don't run away, this isn't about my obsession with FarmVille) is finally recognizing the world of ducks, too. (Hurray, they are finally listening to me!) They are having us build duck ponds (using construction items donated by our farming neighbors) and when we are done, rumor is that we will be given the opportunity to obtain these ducks:
-Pekin (these are your white supermarket meat ducks, btw)
-Golden Eye (these are a sea duck, to my knowledge not domesticated)
-Cayuga (for some strange reason I can't remember for sure if we ever owned a pair-well, it's been almost 30 years), domestic meat/egg ducks that originated in NY State
-Muscovy (there are many colors/types, I hope they pick a colorful one)
-Scoter (another sea duck)
-Red bill (an African duck)
The nice thing is, we will have opportunities to learn more about ducks of the world. (the probably not so nice thing will be that most if not all of these will be expensive, and I refuse to spend "real money" on this game.) Still....it did bring back nice memories of a time when ducks were in my life every day.
1. That "duck" dish that some Chinese takeout places sell, the one with pieces of duck crowned with tops of fatty skin
2. Those nice ducks quacking in ponds, with the brownish females and the colorful males. Nice to throw bread to and watch them dive for it
3. And, if they have been to a zoo, maybe those really beautiful mandarin ducks (not related to the ducks in item #1). Long ago, when I lived in Wichita, Kansas, I lived near a park that had a small (free!) zoo, and they had a pair of these ducks, if my memory is correct. They were so colorful and regal.
4. Ducks for hunting, duck decoys, duck and cover...
Many of us don't know it, but ducks are so much more. How about eggs? Years ago, when spouse and I lived in rural Arkansas, we raised ducks for eggs. We mail ordered a breed called the Campbell, which, sad to say, is now on a "watch" list of rare, endangered livestock. The Campbell duck is a bit on the thin side, with an upright posture. Their eggs are a tiny bit bigger than chicken eggs, white in color. They make excellent baked goods - I would gladly buy duck eggs from someone for that purpose. So moist, and like goods baked with honey, containing natural preservatives. They also make excellent hard boiled eggs. (sorry, vegan friends.) Scrambled or omelet- not so good-their whites have a consistency, if cooked in that way, that reminded me of (sorry), mucus.
Need a good, lean duck for meat? The muscovy is your choice. We personally did not keep them as we leaned more towards birds for eggs and companionship (can you tell I love birds?) but many small farmsteads in Northwest Arkansas kept them. They are large, and they don't quack. They have very warty heads but, as people like to say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The game FarmVille (no, please don't run away, this isn't about my obsession with FarmVille) is finally recognizing the world of ducks, too. (Hurray, they are finally listening to me!) They are having us build duck ponds (using construction items donated by our farming neighbors) and when we are done, rumor is that we will be given the opportunity to obtain these ducks:
-Pekin (these are your white supermarket meat ducks, btw)
-Golden Eye (these are a sea duck, to my knowledge not domesticated)
-Cayuga (for some strange reason I can't remember for sure if we ever owned a pair-well, it's been almost 30 years), domestic meat/egg ducks that originated in NY State
-Muscovy (there are many colors/types, I hope they pick a colorful one)
-Scoter (another sea duck)
-Red bill (an African duck)
The nice thing is, we will have opportunities to learn more about ducks of the world. (the probably not so nice thing will be that most if not all of these will be expensive, and I refuse to spend "real money" on this game.) Still....it did bring back nice memories of a time when ducks were in my life every day.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Drowning? Text a Lifeguard
I'm still in disbelief about this and it's been almost two weeks.
I go to a water aerobics class at our local Y. I've been in this class for years. The lifeguards are college aged young people, for the most part. They do, I am sure, a wonderful job.
A couple of times over the years, I have made reports where I felt the lifeguards weren't paying attention. As young adults will do, sometimes these lifeguards have friends come over, and talk to them. I'm not thrilled about that. Their job is to watch people exercising in the water, including a number of seniors. It takes just a second, if someone had a heart attack, to (heaven forbid) slip under the water.
A couple of weeks ago, the class had not yet started. Right before our class is a lap swim period, and it was winding down. They were taking the lane markers out of the water, but a couple of people were still swimming. And, there were some water aerobics class members already in the pool.
What was the lifeguard doing? She was....texting. OK maybe she wasn't texting. Maybe she had her cell phone out and was making random motions on the keyboard. Or was surfing the net. Or was watching a TV show. At any rate, the more I think about this-I don't care if the class hadn't started, there were people in the water.
I don't want her fired. I want to know that the Y has a policy about this type of thing. I was wrong to let it go so long without a report. I've never gotten feedback regarding my previous complaints. But I hope the Y doesn't think it is OK for their lifeguards to be paying attention to their cell phones while on duty.
I go to a water aerobics class at our local Y. I've been in this class for years. The lifeguards are college aged young people, for the most part. They do, I am sure, a wonderful job.
A couple of times over the years, I have made reports where I felt the lifeguards weren't paying attention. As young adults will do, sometimes these lifeguards have friends come over, and talk to them. I'm not thrilled about that. Their job is to watch people exercising in the water, including a number of seniors. It takes just a second, if someone had a heart attack, to (heaven forbid) slip under the water.
A couple of weeks ago, the class had not yet started. Right before our class is a lap swim period, and it was winding down. They were taking the lane markers out of the water, but a couple of people were still swimming. And, there were some water aerobics class members already in the pool.
What was the lifeguard doing? She was....texting. OK maybe she wasn't texting. Maybe she had her cell phone out and was making random motions on the keyboard. Or was surfing the net. Or was watching a TV show. At any rate, the more I think about this-I don't care if the class hadn't started, there were people in the water.
I don't want her fired. I want to know that the Y has a policy about this type of thing. I was wrong to let it go so long without a report. I've never gotten feedback regarding my previous complaints. But I hope the Y doesn't think it is OK for their lifeguards to be paying attention to their cell phones while on duty.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Whiteflies and Impatiens
Aaaargh! Watering plants on my front living room window sill this afternoon, I found a very suspicious, heart sinking sight....these tiny white oval things.
The dreaded whiteflies have struck.
I had them once before, a couple of years ago. Several years ago, I had an outpatient procedure and a friend of mine very nicely got me a kalanchoe plant as a "get well soon" gift. Softharded as I am, I kept the plant after it stopped blooming. I had it, oh, a couple of years. It grew but never bloomed again.
One day, the whiteflies came. I didn't know what they were at first but (ha ha) I soon found out. I did manage to keep other plants from becoming infested. I since found out that kalanchoes are very prone to these pests. So a year or so ago, after a neighbor had surgery, got one of these plants, didn't want to take care of it, and gave it to me, I kept it until it finished with its blooming...then put it outside (it was late summer) and finally let the frost claim it.
Well, this time, the pests have appeared on several impatien plants I had potted up for the winter. (How do I do that? Simple, impatiens root very easily in water. I take promising cuttings when the first frost is predicted, and if they root, I plant them and keep in a pot on a north windowstill. They will even bloom for me, but not as nicely as they do outdoors. I don't try to keep the actual outdoor plants through the winter, I have done that but find the cutting method works better.) And, it also infested two plants next to it - one a plant I call a Charlie plant because someone called Charlie I met at the Ithaca Art Trail event in October gave me a cutting. I have no idea what the plant is, but it does nicely on the north windowsill, especially if you take new cuttings each fall. These root nicely in water, too.
So what am I going to try to do? The same thing that worked last time (after I got rid of the infested kalanchoe) to save plants neighboring the infested plant. Luckily I had some insecticidal soap in the house, and spouse nicely mixed a small batch for me. This is the first line of defense.
I hope it works.
This is the first time my Charlie plant, or my impatiens, have gotten whiteflies. It's always "something".
The dreaded whiteflies have struck.
I had them once before, a couple of years ago. Several years ago, I had an outpatient procedure and a friend of mine very nicely got me a kalanchoe plant as a "get well soon" gift. Softharded as I am, I kept the plant after it stopped blooming. I had it, oh, a couple of years. It grew but never bloomed again.
One day, the whiteflies came. I didn't know what they were at first but (ha ha) I soon found out. I did manage to keep other plants from becoming infested. I since found out that kalanchoes are very prone to these pests. So a year or so ago, after a neighbor had surgery, got one of these plants, didn't want to take care of it, and gave it to me, I kept it until it finished with its blooming...then put it outside (it was late summer) and finally let the frost claim it.
Well, this time, the pests have appeared on several impatien plants I had potted up for the winter. (How do I do that? Simple, impatiens root very easily in water. I take promising cuttings when the first frost is predicted, and if they root, I plant them and keep in a pot on a north windowstill. They will even bloom for me, but not as nicely as they do outdoors. I don't try to keep the actual outdoor plants through the winter, I have done that but find the cutting method works better.) And, it also infested two plants next to it - one a plant I call a Charlie plant because someone called Charlie I met at the Ithaca Art Trail event in October gave me a cutting. I have no idea what the plant is, but it does nicely on the north windowsill, especially if you take new cuttings each fall. These root nicely in water, too.
So what am I going to try to do? The same thing that worked last time (after I got rid of the infested kalanchoe) to save plants neighboring the infested plant. Luckily I had some insecticidal soap in the house, and spouse nicely mixed a small batch for me. This is the first line of defense.
I hope it works.
This is the first time my Charlie plant, or my impatiens, have gotten whiteflies. It's always "something".
Friday, January 7, 2011
Livvie Owen and Autism in Literature
As someone with a brother in law with autism, and a son's good friend who has Asperger's Syndrome, I have picked up a couple of the recent books written from the point of view of someone with autism.
When a "neurotypical" (person not on the autistic "spectrum") person writes a book with a "first person" narrator with autism, it becomes a very big challenge. Also, me trying to write a book review is its own challenge. I'm not an English major, just someone who likes to read. I don't consider myself "literary" but I do consider myself intelligent-and I've spent some time with teens/adults on the "spectrum"....not as much as a parent/advocate/special ed teacher but perhaps more than a lot of laypeople.
Anyway, it's become somewhat fashionable to write these types of books. People with autism are one of the flavors of the hour. Problem is, people of this hour aren't people of the next hour. They fade into the "who cares" category, and people with autism do not deserve that type of treatment. So I hope that this is not a literary "fad", that good authors will continue to explore this element of human nature.
But, back to my stab at a book review. I believe I've blogged before about my "discovery" of what is called young adult literature. To my delight, it isn't all vampire love novels. There is a lot of good, meaty, stuff out there.
So, I wanted to write a little about a YA book I read recently: Livvie Owen Lived Here by Sarah Dooley.
This particular book is written by a teacher of children with special needs who lives in West Virginia. So....Livvie Owen (Olivia), a high school student with autism, lives in a small, dying town in West Virginia called Nabor with her younger sister, her older sister, and her Mom and Dad.
Good stuff: Livvie is in a special ed class at her small West Virginia high school. The school scenes ring absolutely true (in my somewhat limited experience with special ed classrooms). The boy obsessed with snakes, the non-verbal girl who is Livvie's friend and communicates using pictures attached to a strip with Velcro, and the other class members with their various disabilities, all are part of her world. Obviously, the school has worked with Livvie to try to teach her to control her behavior, to try to find ways to calm herself and prevent tantrums, but Livvie finds herself many times in situations where she just can't react to properly.
Which introduces the plot of the story. The family has had to move, over and over, because Livvie outlives her welcome with the landlord. Or with the neighbors. Her behavior (especially the noises and the tantrums) disturb, or frighten,then the family is evicted, and the family is on the move again.
When the story opens, they are living in a old, wornout trailer, and soon after they are being served still another eviction notice. The family must move again.
This situation rings true also. It isn't easy being poor, and I am glad this issue was explored in great detail in this book. The author took some of this from personal experience in her own childhood, and it is something well deserving of exploration. It is also obvious that the small town is dying, but the family stays there because it is familiar to their daughter...and it is so hard for people with autism to accept change. My brother in law struggles with that almost daily.
Livvie realizes this housing situation is because of her behavior (which she tries so hard to control but the control just isn't there despite her best intentions), and she comes up with a very special plan to find a new house....with the help of a factory whistle from her childhood and a dead cat. (yes, you'll have to read the book to find out how.)
The other part of the story I felt rang true was the relationship Livvie had with her two sisters. It was complicated. They loved her but there was also anger and resentment, and the complex relationships were explored as the length of the book permitted. The parents were loving and patient, and Livvie was fortunate to have grown up in a stable family. Not all children with autism (nor do all children, obviously) do.
The teachers in Livvie's life are also portrayed sympathetically. Few people realize the job that special ed teachers have - we are lucky to have these dedicated individuals. After a series of substitutes (and those scenes rang true also!) a very caring teacher enters Livvie's life and sparks change in this young adolescent.
Where did the book fail? I think, as a narrator, that there was a lot of inconsistency. Livvie (who is severely autistic and can barely read or write, although she is far from "stupid") has quite a vocabulary and command of words as narrator that just seemed inconsistent with how she was portrayed. There was also a great deal of inconsistency in how Livvie was able to understand non-verbal communication (this, incidentally, is a major challenge for people with autism.) In some instances, Livvie could not understand or "label" emotions but just a couple of minutes later would be describing quite complex emotions showing on the faces of characters. She would ponder her inability to read a certain type of emotion and several pages later, she would be reading the emotion quite well. I realize some of this was to move the story along, but to me this aspect actually distracted me from the story.
Still, in all, a most worthwhile book which I would recommend to anyone.
I understand this is a debut novel and I very much look forward to this author's future work. I've done a little reading in her blog, and she sounds like a woman I would like to meet one day. Maybe at a small town library. Like the ones in Northwest Arkansas that I frequented 30 years ago and....maybe something to blog about one day.
When a "neurotypical" (person not on the autistic "spectrum") person writes a book with a "first person" narrator with autism, it becomes a very big challenge. Also, me trying to write a book review is its own challenge. I'm not an English major, just someone who likes to read. I don't consider myself "literary" but I do consider myself intelligent-and I've spent some time with teens/adults on the "spectrum"....not as much as a parent/advocate/special ed teacher but perhaps more than a lot of laypeople.
Anyway, it's become somewhat fashionable to write these types of books. People with autism are one of the flavors of the hour. Problem is, people of this hour aren't people of the next hour. They fade into the "who cares" category, and people with autism do not deserve that type of treatment. So I hope that this is not a literary "fad", that good authors will continue to explore this element of human nature.
But, back to my stab at a book review. I believe I've blogged before about my "discovery" of what is called young adult literature. To my delight, it isn't all vampire love novels. There is a lot of good, meaty, stuff out there.
So, I wanted to write a little about a YA book I read recently: Livvie Owen Lived Here by Sarah Dooley.
This particular book is written by a teacher of children with special needs who lives in West Virginia. So....Livvie Owen (Olivia), a high school student with autism, lives in a small, dying town in West Virginia called Nabor with her younger sister, her older sister, and her Mom and Dad.
Good stuff: Livvie is in a special ed class at her small West Virginia high school. The school scenes ring absolutely true (in my somewhat limited experience with special ed classrooms). The boy obsessed with snakes, the non-verbal girl who is Livvie's friend and communicates using pictures attached to a strip with Velcro, and the other class members with their various disabilities, all are part of her world. Obviously, the school has worked with Livvie to try to teach her to control her behavior, to try to find ways to calm herself and prevent tantrums, but Livvie finds herself many times in situations where she just can't react to properly.
Which introduces the plot of the story. The family has had to move, over and over, because Livvie outlives her welcome with the landlord. Or with the neighbors. Her behavior (especially the noises and the tantrums) disturb, or frighten,then the family is evicted, and the family is on the move again.
When the story opens, they are living in a old, wornout trailer, and soon after they are being served still another eviction notice. The family must move again.
This situation rings true also. It isn't easy being poor, and I am glad this issue was explored in great detail in this book. The author took some of this from personal experience in her own childhood, and it is something well deserving of exploration. It is also obvious that the small town is dying, but the family stays there because it is familiar to their daughter...and it is so hard for people with autism to accept change. My brother in law struggles with that almost daily.
Livvie realizes this housing situation is because of her behavior (which she tries so hard to control but the control just isn't there despite her best intentions), and she comes up with a very special plan to find a new house....with the help of a factory whistle from her childhood and a dead cat. (yes, you'll have to read the book to find out how.)
The other part of the story I felt rang true was the relationship Livvie had with her two sisters. It was complicated. They loved her but there was also anger and resentment, and the complex relationships were explored as the length of the book permitted. The parents were loving and patient, and Livvie was fortunate to have grown up in a stable family. Not all children with autism (nor do all children, obviously) do.
The teachers in Livvie's life are also portrayed sympathetically. Few people realize the job that special ed teachers have - we are lucky to have these dedicated individuals. After a series of substitutes (and those scenes rang true also!) a very caring teacher enters Livvie's life and sparks change in this young adolescent.
Where did the book fail? I think, as a narrator, that there was a lot of inconsistency. Livvie (who is severely autistic and can barely read or write, although she is far from "stupid") has quite a vocabulary and command of words as narrator that just seemed inconsistent with how she was portrayed. There was also a great deal of inconsistency in how Livvie was able to understand non-verbal communication (this, incidentally, is a major challenge for people with autism.) In some instances, Livvie could not understand or "label" emotions but just a couple of minutes later would be describing quite complex emotions showing on the faces of characters. She would ponder her inability to read a certain type of emotion and several pages later, she would be reading the emotion quite well. I realize some of this was to move the story along, but to me this aspect actually distracted me from the story.
Still, in all, a most worthwhile book which I would recommend to anyone.
I understand this is a debut novel and I very much look forward to this author's future work. I've done a little reading in her blog, and she sounds like a woman I would like to meet one day. Maybe at a small town library. Like the ones in Northwest Arkansas that I frequented 30 years ago and....maybe something to blog about one day.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Dandelions and singing birds in January in Upstate NY
I took a short walk around my neighborhood today and to my delight, I found two dandelion flowers in someone's lawn.
What is so delightful about this find is what made it all possible: no snow on the ground.
That's right. Upstate NY. January 4. No snow on the ground. (except in very isolated spots.)
It may drive certain people crazy, but I am thrilled.
It didn't get quite as warm (41 degrees) as it did late last week(when we reached 52) but the 52 degree weather late last week brought its own rewards: singing birds.
Anyone who denies climate change solely because of political beliefs should reconsider. Whether or not this is a normal fluctuation of our weather (which has happened before in human history) or due to ecological damage: it is here, and it is changing all of our lives. These will indeed be interesting times.
What is so delightful about this find is what made it all possible: no snow on the ground.
That's right. Upstate NY. January 4. No snow on the ground. (except in very isolated spots.)
It may drive certain people crazy, but I am thrilled.
It didn't get quite as warm (41 degrees) as it did late last week(when we reached 52) but the 52 degree weather late last week brought its own rewards: singing birds.
Anyone who denies climate change solely because of political beliefs should reconsider. Whether or not this is a normal fluctuation of our weather (which has happened before in human history) or due to ecological damage: it is here, and it is changing all of our lives. These will indeed be interesting times.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
FarmVille Chinese
Haven't posted about FarmVille in a while...have been too busy doing all the "holiday" (read "Christmas") FarmVille quests and other stuff. Now the New Year is here, I've put my "holiday" decorations into FarmVille storage, and it is time to farm. I've been in somewhat of a farming rut, and am trying to expand my crop growing into some new crops. Speaking of which-
The popular online game FarmVille has extended itself to China.
One of the premier FarmVille news sites has done their research, and found several crops unique to the Chinese version: including "caterpillar mushroom", ginseng, areca palm nut, lingzhi (a medicinal herb) and....peony.
Wouldn't it be cool if we American farmers could have these crops to celebrate the Chinese New Year. After all, this is supposed to be an international game....which I think Zynga sometimes forgets. Plus, we do have a Chinese population in this country. I went to high school with some first generation Chinese, and there are a lot of Chinese in New York City (and other population centers).
And now back to regular blogging. I've had so much to write about lately, that it ended up with me not writing about anything at all. I'll try to rectify that, although it may not be for another 2-3 days.
The popular online game FarmVille has extended itself to China.
One of the premier FarmVille news sites has done their research, and found several crops unique to the Chinese version: including "caterpillar mushroom", ginseng, areca palm nut, lingzhi (a medicinal herb) and....peony.
Wouldn't it be cool if we American farmers could have these crops to celebrate the Chinese New Year. After all, this is supposed to be an international game....which I think Zynga sometimes forgets. Plus, we do have a Chinese population in this country. I went to high school with some first generation Chinese, and there are a lot of Chinese in New York City (and other population centers).
And now back to regular blogging. I've had so much to write about lately, that it ended up with me not writing about anything at all. I'll try to rectify that, although it may not be for another 2-3 days.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Johnson City Makes the News Again-Although it Probably Wishes It Hadn't
This time the newsmaker is a former principal (and suspended assistant superintendent) of Johnson City High School. He was there as principal for some of the time my son attended, so this is of great interest to me.
Some interesting things have been happening in the Johnson City schools the last few months.
I don't know Mr. Lally personally, but I did have occasion to meet him. I've seen him make speeches, and to me he seemed very hyperactive. Apparently, the truth is a lot more sad.
At this point I don't want to comment on his case; I don't know enough to have an opinion. But I wanted to mention something about bipolar disorder.
Years ago (I am positive) I worked for a man, a small business owner, who must have been bipolar. It was an absolute nightmare. I've known a couple of people since with the disorder. One did some very good things for my son. Another one was a co worker for a very brief time.
Just as a layperson, I can tell you that anyone with this disorder is enslaved by it. And so are their families. There is so little support out there for those with mental illness and their families. It is a very sad situation. There are medications, but they have major side effects. This disorder causes so much suffering. Being a caretaker for someone with bipolar, without support, can destroy families. I've seen some of that suffering.
I can have compassion, though, because I didn't suffer at his hands as a co-worker.
I hope this comes to an end without the school district bankrupting itself. And guess what. The taxpayers will suffer,too.
Not good. Not good.
Some interesting things have been happening in the Johnson City schools the last few months.
I don't know Mr. Lally personally, but I did have occasion to meet him. I've seen him make speeches, and to me he seemed very hyperactive. Apparently, the truth is a lot more sad.
At this point I don't want to comment on his case; I don't know enough to have an opinion. But I wanted to mention something about bipolar disorder.
Years ago (I am positive) I worked for a man, a small business owner, who must have been bipolar. It was an absolute nightmare. I've known a couple of people since with the disorder. One did some very good things for my son. Another one was a co worker for a very brief time.
Just as a layperson, I can tell you that anyone with this disorder is enslaved by it. And so are their families. There is so little support out there for those with mental illness and their families. It is a very sad situation. There are medications, but they have major side effects. This disorder causes so much suffering. Being a caretaker for someone with bipolar, without support, can destroy families. I've seen some of that suffering.
I can have compassion, though, because I didn't suffer at his hands as a co-worker.
I hope this comes to an end without the school district bankrupting itself. And guess what. The taxpayers will suffer,too.
Not good. Not good.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Happy New Year- I hope
A week later, the smoke has cleared, the street with two burnt historic buildings remains blocked, and downtown wonders if the two buildings will be structurally sound enough to remain standing.
I pass near here every morning, and mourn the set back in the rebirth of downtown. They still don't know what started the fire, which burned through the early morning hours of last Wednesday, December 23.
I still remember the smells of traveling to work last Wednesday. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could smell smoke about 1/4 mile from downtown. By the time I got to the corner of State and Court Street, the smell was quite noticable.
There was police tape along the sidewalks, where crowds had gathered the night before to watch the fire burn. Remnants of ice from the water lined the sidewalks. Up on the roof of the former midtown mall (the building where the fire started) were some firemen. I stood there a few minutes before traveling on.
Once daybreak came, the damage was apparent. The tall red building is the Press building, once the tallest building in Binghamton, built for the local newspaper. It had only recently been renovated by a law firm, which had occupied several floors.
What a beautiful building, and it will break my heart if it has to come down.
As far as the historic Midtown Mall building.... this is what is left. The building is totally gutted from the inside.
The building on the left is the Perry Building, another gem, and apparently it survived.
I still haven't been able to get hold of the historic photos (including some of fires at the turn of the century) I wanted to post. If I get these pictures, I will post them.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, downtown.
May 2011 be happier for all of us.
I pass near here every morning, and mourn the set back in the rebirth of downtown. They still don't know what started the fire, which burned through the early morning hours of last Wednesday, December 23.
I still remember the smells of traveling to work last Wednesday. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could smell smoke about 1/4 mile from downtown. By the time I got to the corner of State and Court Street, the smell was quite noticable.
There was police tape along the sidewalks, where crowds had gathered the night before to watch the fire burn. Remnants of ice from the water lined the sidewalks. Up on the roof of the former midtown mall (the building where the fire started) were some firemen. I stood there a few minutes before traveling on.
Once daybreak came, the damage was apparent. The tall red building is the Press building, once the tallest building in Binghamton, built for the local newspaper. It had only recently been renovated by a law firm, which had occupied several floors.
What a beautiful building, and it will break my heart if it has to come down.
As far as the historic Midtown Mall building.... this is what is left. The building is totally gutted from the inside.
The building on the left is the Perry Building, another gem, and apparently it survived.
I still haven't been able to get hold of the historic photos (including some of fires at the turn of the century) I wanted to post. If I get these pictures, I will post them.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, downtown.
May 2011 be happier for all of us.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The Missing Numbers
Numbers are missing in Binghamton, NY.
No, someone hasn't been stealing house numbers. Instead, as a sign of our times, our First Night celebration was cancelled. The large numbers that were posted in front of each venue used to appear in early December.
Now, these streetcorners stand empty.
No parade of merrymakers will fill the street at 6pm on New Years Eve. No horse drawn street cars will cruise the streets of downtown. No venues will be filled with music, with arts, with merrymakers. No maps, with numbers, will direct families to alcohol free entertainment.
No children's countdown at 9. No fireworks or bonfire at midnight. A friend of mine won't be entertaining.
Even the First Night organization, at one time headquartered in Binghamton, has fled (back to Boston.). Meanwhile, Southern Tier Celebrates closed its doors too, earlier this year. It almost makes you cry to read their list of past achievements to promote the arts in Binghamton.
All I can do is share some memories. When my son was younger, I had a cousin who would come up here occasionally from NYC with her family and her daughter and my son would participate in First Night with us. One year, Nickelodeon sponsored a show that was loads of fun. Another year, my son, fresh from the funeral of his grandfather, was able to enjoy a magic act and an airflight simulator. Many of those years, the temperature was hovering near zero. The streets were always filled with snow. There was at least one First Night I didn't go to because I felt it would be too icy.
I'm not a huge fan of the performing arts. I rarely go to plays and almost never to concerts. (I'd rather stay home and curl up with a book.) But I feel that communities need a celebration like First Night.
So what replaces First Night? Well, a "Studio 65" celebration (recreation of "Studio 54". It's only $85. OK, its a fundraiser. But in this era of high unemployment, Binghamton needs something else.
I never thought I would miss First Night. It's been about 4 years since I went last. I was hoping to one day be able to stay up long enough (and keep myself warm long enough) to enjoy the bonfire and fireworks. Now, I may never have that opportunity.
No, someone hasn't been stealing house numbers. Instead, as a sign of our times, our First Night celebration was cancelled. The large numbers that were posted in front of each venue used to appear in early December.
Now, these streetcorners stand empty.
No parade of merrymakers will fill the street at 6pm on New Years Eve. No horse drawn street cars will cruise the streets of downtown. No venues will be filled with music, with arts, with merrymakers. No maps, with numbers, will direct families to alcohol free entertainment.
No children's countdown at 9. No fireworks or bonfire at midnight. A friend of mine won't be entertaining.
Even the First Night organization, at one time headquartered in Binghamton, has fled (back to Boston.). Meanwhile, Southern Tier Celebrates closed its doors too, earlier this year. It almost makes you cry to read their list of past achievements to promote the arts in Binghamton.
All I can do is share some memories. When my son was younger, I had a cousin who would come up here occasionally from NYC with her family and her daughter and my son would participate in First Night with us. One year, Nickelodeon sponsored a show that was loads of fun. Another year, my son, fresh from the funeral of his grandfather, was able to enjoy a magic act and an airflight simulator. Many of those years, the temperature was hovering near zero. The streets were always filled with snow. There was at least one First Night I didn't go to because I felt it would be too icy.
I'm not a huge fan of the performing arts. I rarely go to plays and almost never to concerts. (I'd rather stay home and curl up with a book.) But I feel that communities need a celebration like First Night.
So what replaces First Night? Well, a "Studio 65" celebration (recreation of "Studio 54". It's only $85. OK, its a fundraiser. But in this era of high unemployment, Binghamton needs something else.
I never thought I would miss First Night. It's been about 4 years since I went last. I was hoping to one day be able to stay up long enough (and keep myself warm long enough) to enjoy the bonfire and fireworks. Now, I may never have that opportunity.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Jewish Songwriters and Christmas
No, I don't mean the 2007 SNL TV Funhouse short "Christmas Time for the Jews" although I thought it was very entertaining and a dead-on parody of Phil Spector songs. (It was, incidentally, sung by legendary singer Darlene Love.)
No, I'm talking about Christmas songs written by Jewish song writers. My little quest started a year ago, reading a NY Times Op Ed. There are a number of these songs, and other bloggers and writers have done the research for me: I thank them, including the wonderful people at Mental Floss and this article. (a must read).
Some may argue that these are NOT Christmas songs, but rather songs about what I would now call the "secular Christmas". True, these are not hymns. But it is true that the American celebration of Christmas incorporates many aspects of non-religious symbolism - this ground has been covered by other writers.
I consider them Christmas songs. I think, in particular, few would argue that "I'll be Home for Christmas" isn't one of the most heartfelt Christmas songs every written.
(Note, I have not done any of this research myself. I am not a musician or a music expert, just someone who likes to listen to well written music. So if I end up spreading wrong information, I apologize. I did try more than one source, but - as you well know- you can't trust everything you read on the Internet.)
1. White Christmas: Irving Berlin lived to 101, married a Catholic woman back when that type of intermarriage was extremely scandalous (to both families) and defined Christmas for entire generations of American Christians. (Incidentally, he also wrote "Easter Parade". And "God Bless America") The next time you wonder if you will be having a white Christmas, and if you can't figure out exactly why that should be so important, well....blame Bing Crosby and.... Irving Berlin.
2. Silver Bells: this one is another movie song, and talks about the bells of the Salvation Army "in the city". (I always assume it is New York City.)
3. Winter Wonderland: the author of this song was a Jewish man from Brooklyn. The air must have been a lot less polluted in those days. When I grew up a snowy day was more like a Black Crusted Snow Wasteland.
4. The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire): The Nat King Cole version is one of my favorite songs, ever. This brings back so many memories of the holiday season in the late 60's in midtown Manhattan and the vendors who would sell roasted chestnuts. The fragrance carried for blocks.
Jack Frost would certainly nip at your nose in NYC. The climate there is so damp, it feels way colder than it really is.
5. Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow: the duo, both Jewish, who wrote that song, also wrote "The Christmas Waltz".
6. I'll be Home for Christmas. As an almost-history major in college, this song makes me think of my aunts and uncles during World War II.
And last but not least, something I picked up in my research: the other day I blogged about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It would seem that Johnny Marks, the author of that song (and also "Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree") was Jewish.
So, whether secular or religious, Christian or Jew, enjoy today.
No, I'm talking about Christmas songs written by Jewish song writers. My little quest started a year ago, reading a NY Times Op Ed. There are a number of these songs, and other bloggers and writers have done the research for me: I thank them, including the wonderful people at Mental Floss and this article. (a must read).
Some may argue that these are NOT Christmas songs, but rather songs about what I would now call the "secular Christmas". True, these are not hymns. But it is true that the American celebration of Christmas incorporates many aspects of non-religious symbolism - this ground has been covered by other writers.
I consider them Christmas songs. I think, in particular, few would argue that "I'll be Home for Christmas" isn't one of the most heartfelt Christmas songs every written.
(Note, I have not done any of this research myself. I am not a musician or a music expert, just someone who likes to listen to well written music. So if I end up spreading wrong information, I apologize. I did try more than one source, but - as you well know- you can't trust everything you read on the Internet.)
1. White Christmas: Irving Berlin lived to 101, married a Catholic woman back when that type of intermarriage was extremely scandalous (to both families) and defined Christmas for entire generations of American Christians. (Incidentally, he also wrote "Easter Parade". And "God Bless America") The next time you wonder if you will be having a white Christmas, and if you can't figure out exactly why that should be so important, well....blame Bing Crosby and.... Irving Berlin.
2. Silver Bells: this one is another movie song, and talks about the bells of the Salvation Army "in the city". (I always assume it is New York City.)
3. Winter Wonderland: the author of this song was a Jewish man from Brooklyn. The air must have been a lot less polluted in those days. When I grew up a snowy day was more like a Black Crusted Snow Wasteland.
4. The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire): The Nat King Cole version is one of my favorite songs, ever. This brings back so many memories of the holiday season in the late 60's in midtown Manhattan and the vendors who would sell roasted chestnuts. The fragrance carried for blocks.
Jack Frost would certainly nip at your nose in NYC. The climate there is so damp, it feels way colder than it really is.
5. Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow: the duo, both Jewish, who wrote that song, also wrote "The Christmas Waltz".
6. I'll be Home for Christmas. As an almost-history major in college, this song makes me think of my aunts and uncles during World War II.
And last but not least, something I picked up in my research: the other day I blogged about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It would seem that Johnny Marks, the author of that song (and also "Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree") was Jewish.
So, whether secular or religious, Christian or Jew, enjoy today.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Downtown Recovers and Sings
I wanted to share a piece of Binghamton Christmas season tradition with you, in the wake of the fire we experienced Tuesday night.
Every "last day of work before Christmas" for around the past 16 years, employees of downtown employer Security Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York gather at noon in the marble lobby of their building to sing Christmas songs. Not only are there talented singers, but also several employees on instruments accompanying them.
Thanks to You Tube, I can share this with you. I was in the lobby for the 2010 caroling, made special by the smell of the smoke from the fire. But it didn't stop anyone. Note, the sound quality is horrible, but enjoy when the person taking the video scans the lobby.
Wouldn't it be great to work in a building like that?
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas
Rockin Around the Christmas Tree
Feliz Navidad
(and no, I wasn't the one who made the video.)
Every "last day of work before Christmas" for around the past 16 years, employees of downtown employer Security Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York gather at noon in the marble lobby of their building to sing Christmas songs. Not only are there talented singers, but also several employees on instruments accompanying them.
Thanks to You Tube, I can share this with you. I was in the lobby for the 2010 caroling, made special by the smell of the smoke from the fire. But it didn't stop anyone. Note, the sound quality is horrible, but enjoy when the person taking the video scans the lobby.
Wouldn't it be great to work in a building like that?
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas
Rockin Around the Christmas Tree
Feliz Navidad
(and no, I wasn't the one who made the video.)
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Festivus
Festivus may be the only holiday created by a TV show. To be exact, a Seinfeld episode from 1997. I don't formally celebrate it, although I do know a couple of people who do. If I had to be totally honest (and you are supposed to be) I didn't even watch Seinfeld that much. But I should. Honest.
Festivus is a holiday for the "rest of us", the people burnt out by the total Overchristmasization of today's United States. And, I can identify with that more and more each year. Maybe next year I will be celebrating it. Somehow, this year I feel so tired, so......and yet I have so much to be grateful for, such as still being employed.
For those not familiar with Festivus:
Festivus is celebrated every December 23 and has several aspects.
First is the Festivus pole, always made of aluminum. It is undecorated, as opposed to a Christmas Tree. But strong.
Then is the Festivus dinner. At the beginning of the dinner is the Airing of Grievances. Each participant tells each family member and friend how that person disappointed him/her. However, if you extended this to other aspects of life...well, again it may just be my sour mood but I could really dump on some aspects of my daily life. But not family. To paraphrase, "I've got a lot of problems with certain things, and you are going to hear about it!"
I could recite a long list but basically I think our society is becoming more and more mean spirited each year. And selfish, self-absorbed and a few other things. We follow every detail of the Hollywood Stars lives, and musicians who don't even deserve the name, but we ignore those in our back yards who need friends more than ever. Our news channels have turned into entertainment news. We have lost our will to excel.
I saw a segment on CNN recently that dealt with-how much to tip your doorman!! That's news? That's relevant to most people in this country? What about unemployment, lack of medical insurance, the burgeoning national debt, our borrowing and selling ourselves to China, and boring stuff like that?
History does repeat itself, friends.
Which brings us to the last event, the Feats of Strength. After the head of the family is pinned to the ground in a match of strength, dinner is over.
Happy Festivus, I guess. Hopefully I will cheer up once the sun decides to reappear, sometime next year.
Festivus is a holiday for the "rest of us", the people burnt out by the total Overchristmasization of today's United States. And, I can identify with that more and more each year. Maybe next year I will be celebrating it. Somehow, this year I feel so tired, so......and yet I have so much to be grateful for, such as still being employed.
For those not familiar with Festivus:
Festivus is celebrated every December 23 and has several aspects.
First is the Festivus pole, always made of aluminum. It is undecorated, as opposed to a Christmas Tree. But strong.
Then is the Festivus dinner. At the beginning of the dinner is the Airing of Grievances. Each participant tells each family member and friend how that person disappointed him/her. However, if you extended this to other aspects of life...well, again it may just be my sour mood but I could really dump on some aspects of my daily life. But not family. To paraphrase, "I've got a lot of problems with certain things, and you are going to hear about it!"
I could recite a long list but basically I think our society is becoming more and more mean spirited each year. And selfish, self-absorbed and a few other things. We follow every detail of the Hollywood Stars lives, and musicians who don't even deserve the name, but we ignore those in our back yards who need friends more than ever. Our news channels have turned into entertainment news. We have lost our will to excel.
I saw a segment on CNN recently that dealt with-how much to tip your doorman!! That's news? That's relevant to most people in this country? What about unemployment, lack of medical insurance, the burgeoning national debt, our borrowing and selling ourselves to China, and boring stuff like that?
History does repeat itself, friends.
Which brings us to the last event, the Feats of Strength. After the head of the family is pinned to the ground in a match of strength, dinner is over.
Happy Festivus, I guess. Hopefully I will cheer up once the sun decides to reappear, sometime next year.
The Night They Almost Burned Old Binghamton Down
A Soggy, Not So Jolly, Christmas for Downtown Binghamton.
I delayed posting this because I was hoping to get some pictures from someone, but I probably won't be getting the pictures until next week.
Downtown Binghamton could have burned down Tuesday night.
That's an exaggeration, but not as much as an exaggeration as one might think.
The headlines could have been "The Midtown Mall, the Perry Building and the Press Building burnt down Tuesday night, along with the old Strand Theatre, and other buildings on once-historic Chenango Street". It would have served Binghamton right. This city has a long track record of disrespecting its heritage. Strong words? Well, let's see. How about the O'Neill/Ross Building, demolished several years ago in two stages after many years of vacancy and neglect - and the destruction of almost all of their Green Men.
And, let's not forget the Alms House, demolished earlier this year, unwanted by Broome Community College? (not downtown, but not completely off topic.)
So why not some instant urban renewal?
However, please don't cry just yet, Binghamton. We will get through this. (I hope).
Why didn't the block go? Because, to be blunt, they knew how to build in those days.
Thankfully, no one was hurt. And a lot of spectators enjoyed watching the firefighters labor through a cold night of fire fighting. (I arrived about 7:15 am on my way to work, and I will blog about it another time.). But one wall of the Press Building (former office and plant of our local newspaper, and the second tallest building in Binghamton) has a lot of broken windows and blackened walls - it had just been renovated itself.
So much for student housing on Court Street, at least for now. Downtown was depending so much on that for revival.
It's deja vu all over again.
This is far from the first time fire has struck downtown.
About two weeks ago, I was privileged to view some photos of turn of the century (early 20th century, that is) downtown Binghamton, taken from around 1898 to 1913. I still hope to get those pictures from a person who got them from the family. The pictures have no copyright and I am assured they can be shared freely.
Three of the pictures deal with fire. One fire wasn't all that far from Tuesday's blaze, another one was further down on Court Street. Some things never change; these fires were a spectator sport too. Just change the clothing and get rid of the color film.....
And then there was the third picture. Dressed in long dresses and heavy wool suits, the long procession wound down Court Street to honor the victims of another fire that afternoon day of July, 1913: the 33 dead in the Binghamton Clothing Company fire, which I blogged about last year.
Thankfully, this fire caught at night. What caused it? We still don't know.
But it wasn't fun breathing in that smoke at work yesterday.
I delayed posting this because I was hoping to get some pictures from someone, but I probably won't be getting the pictures until next week.
Downtown Binghamton could have burned down Tuesday night.
That's an exaggeration, but not as much as an exaggeration as one might think.
The headlines could have been "The Midtown Mall, the Perry Building and the Press Building burnt down Tuesday night, along with the old Strand Theatre, and other buildings on once-historic Chenango Street". It would have served Binghamton right. This city has a long track record of disrespecting its heritage. Strong words? Well, let's see. How about the O'Neill/Ross Building, demolished several years ago in two stages after many years of vacancy and neglect - and the destruction of almost all of their Green Men.
And, let's not forget the Alms House, demolished earlier this year, unwanted by Broome Community College? (not downtown, but not completely off topic.)
So why not some instant urban renewal?
However, please don't cry just yet, Binghamton. We will get through this. (I hope).
Why didn't the block go? Because, to be blunt, they knew how to build in those days.
Thankfully, no one was hurt. And a lot of spectators enjoyed watching the firefighters labor through a cold night of fire fighting. (I arrived about 7:15 am on my way to work, and I will blog about it another time.). But one wall of the Press Building (former office and plant of our local newspaper, and the second tallest building in Binghamton) has a lot of broken windows and blackened walls - it had just been renovated itself.
So much for student housing on Court Street, at least for now. Downtown was depending so much on that for revival.
It's deja vu all over again.
This is far from the first time fire has struck downtown.
About two weeks ago, I was privileged to view some photos of turn of the century (early 20th century, that is) downtown Binghamton, taken from around 1898 to 1913. I still hope to get those pictures from a person who got them from the family. The pictures have no copyright and I am assured they can be shared freely.
Three of the pictures deal with fire. One fire wasn't all that far from Tuesday's blaze, another one was further down on Court Street. Some things never change; these fires were a spectator sport too. Just change the clothing and get rid of the color film.....
And then there was the third picture. Dressed in long dresses and heavy wool suits, the long procession wound down Court Street to honor the victims of another fire that afternoon day of July, 1913: the 33 dead in the Binghamton Clothing Company fire, which I blogged about last year.
Thankfully, this fire caught at night. What caused it? We still don't know.
But it wasn't fun breathing in that smoke at work yesterday.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
The True Rudolph
I received an email regarding the "true story of the origin of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It was a story of a man, Bob May, who created the story as a comfort to his young daughter, who was dying of cancer.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
There's a term fans of Snopes.com use for this type of tearjerker, "glurge". This email is an example of glurge. I won't copy the email here; you can find it on Snopes.com
Along with the story, is Snope's explanation of the real story of Rudolph. When you read it, you will agree that the real story is better than the "glurge" version. So I ask, why do people have to do that?
Do you remember back when many towns had a Montgomery Ward in the Mall and every year they would sell Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer books? I bought one for my son when he was a baby. And, I still have a Rudolph sweatshirt I bought at Monky Wards probably the last Christmas they were open.
For what it's worth, my memory of the book (I no longer have it) is that the story was a bit different than the story in the TV show that most of us remember. As for the origins of Rudolph....
According to Snopes, Rudolph was created as part of a Montgomery Wards advertising campaign in the 1930's. It is true a man by the name of Bob May created the character. But there was no daughter dying of cancer. The real story is actually a "better" one than the story someone made up, and I invite you to read it on their website.
Bob May's brother in law wrote the Rudolph song that Gene Autry recorded.
As a point of trivia, if Wikipedia is correct about the author of the song, he was Jewish. So was Irving Berlin, who wrote the song "White Christmas". But that is a story for another day.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
There's a term fans of Snopes.com use for this type of tearjerker, "glurge". This email is an example of glurge. I won't copy the email here; you can find it on Snopes.com
Along with the story, is Snope's explanation of the real story of Rudolph. When you read it, you will agree that the real story is better than the "glurge" version. So I ask, why do people have to do that?
Do you remember back when many towns had a Montgomery Ward in the Mall and every year they would sell Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer books? I bought one for my son when he was a baby. And, I still have a Rudolph sweatshirt I bought at Monky Wards probably the last Christmas they were open.
For what it's worth, my memory of the book (I no longer have it) is that the story was a bit different than the story in the TV show that most of us remember. As for the origins of Rudolph....
According to Snopes, Rudolph was created as part of a Montgomery Wards advertising campaign in the 1930's. It is true a man by the name of Bob May created the character. But there was no daughter dying of cancer. The real story is actually a "better" one than the story someone made up, and I invite you to read it on their website.
Bob May's brother in law wrote the Rudolph song that Gene Autry recorded.
As a point of trivia, if Wikipedia is correct about the author of the song, he was Jewish. So was Irving Berlin, who wrote the song "White Christmas". But that is a story for another day.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Northern Exposure and the Quest for the Midnight Sun
In the past year I've gotten into the TV show Northern Exposure (I had never watched it while it was on.) thanks to the local public library.
The one thing that immediately struck me was that the quality of the sunlight in "Cicely, Alaska" (the small town where the show took place) just did not seem right. I've only been to Alaska once (and that was the southeastern part, around Juneau and Ketchikan) but I will never forget how different the sunlight looked.
"Cicely" didn't have that special light character. And, for that matter, it seemed to have too much daylight in the winter period.
Never mind that they featured shows talking about the midnight sun (and the total dark) but something just didn't seem right. The scenery looked right, but.....
Well, there's a reason for that: "Cicely, Alaska" is really a small town in rural Washington by the name of Roslyn.
It really didn't spoil anything for me to know that. Instead, I have a one day "I'll go there" that may be a bit more manageable than Fairbanks. Fairbanks is almost a full day's airplane flight (actually, flights) from here, all of which seem to get there about midnight. A lot of effort. Roslyn may be a bit more doable.
So, knowing that Cicely was not in Alaska: that's what I get for my fascination with the midnight sun (and the noontime dark.) The TV detective Monk would probably be proud of me.
The one thing that immediately struck me was that the quality of the sunlight in "Cicely, Alaska" (the small town where the show took place) just did not seem right. I've only been to Alaska once (and that was the southeastern part, around Juneau and Ketchikan) but I will never forget how different the sunlight looked.
"Cicely" didn't have that special light character. And, for that matter, it seemed to have too much daylight in the winter period.
Never mind that they featured shows talking about the midnight sun (and the total dark) but something just didn't seem right. The scenery looked right, but.....
Well, there's a reason for that: "Cicely, Alaska" is really a small town in rural Washington by the name of Roslyn.
It really didn't spoil anything for me to know that. Instead, I have a one day "I'll go there" that may be a bit more manageable than Fairbanks. Fairbanks is almost a full day's airplane flight (actually, flights) from here, all of which seem to get there about midnight. A lot of effort. Roslyn may be a bit more doable.
So, knowing that Cicely was not in Alaska: that's what I get for my fascination with the midnight sun (and the noontime dark.) The TV detective Monk would probably be proud of me.
Cold and Darkness in Alaska aka The Winter Solstice
It's time for my semi annual post regarding my fascination with the midnight sun in the summer...and the lack of it during the winter. Here are the stats for Fairbanks, AK (it's about 6pm here in Upstate NY)
Today's statistics:
The weather: right now it is currently minus 13.
Today's statistics:
DECEMBER 21 2010..........SUNRISE 1059 AM AKST SUNSET 241 PM AKST
The weather: right now it is currently minus 13.
WEATHER ITEM OBSERVED TIME RECORD YEAR NORMAL DEPARTURE LAST
VALUE (LST) VALUE VALUE FROM YEAR
NORMAL
..................................................................TEMPERATURE (F) YESTERDAY MAXIMUM -21 303 AM 40 1909 3 -24 -11 MINIMUM -31 613 PM -48 1933 -16 -15 -24
More in another post.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Soapiness of Cilantro, the Bitterness of Brocolli Rabe
It is fascinating how we differ in our perceptions, due to the differing way our senses work.
I had blogged a few days ago about how my spouse finds the smell of paperwhites very pleasant while I find it very unpleasant. The owner of a B&B we stayed in last year commented, and told me about the fact that some people find that the herb cilantro tastes like soap.
Sure enough, there are various discussions online, including an involved discussion on Chowhound.
Neither my spouse nor I find that cilantro tastes like soap but again, we have two reactions to the smell. My husband rarely uses cilantro in his food preparation because he can't stand the odor. On the other hand, I have no problem with it. (I do find the taste somewhat complex, but the first time I tried it it smelled to me like dirty socks would taste, if you were crazy enough to eat one. It did eventually grow on me.)
So what else do my spouse and I differ on, food wise?
1. Brocolli rabe, a staple of my spouse's childhood (I'm of a totally different ethnic group) is heavenly to spouse, but I can't stand it. To me it is so bitter I can't stand it. Even when it is prepared in a way that reduces the bitterness, I still taste it. I'm not the only one; one of my spouses' cousins actually "feel guilty" about disliking this ethnic staple.
2. Strong, mold-type cheeses such as bleu cheese and gorgonzola: again, I find these so bitter I can't stand them. My spouse loves them. In fact my mother in law loves them so much she will put them into salad and I've begged her to serve the cheese on the side. Sometimes she remembers and sometimes she doesn't.
When I had an aunt living in Iowa, we made trips a couple of times to the Maytag Dairy Farms near Newton, IA just so spouse could buy their blue cheese. This was before their blue cheese became a "foodie classic". But it is no classic cheese for me.
There is one other classic reaction to food that I should mention, which is the smell of people's "pee" after eating certain foods. The classic food causing that is asparagus, but there are some other foods that cause pee to smell unpleasant and/or strong. I'm told that asparagus affects everyone's pee, but not everyone can smell it. Fortunately, because both of us love asparagus, neither of us smell it.
Since foods are chemical in nature, should any of this be surprising?
I had blogged a few days ago about how my spouse finds the smell of paperwhites very pleasant while I find it very unpleasant. The owner of a B&B we stayed in last year commented, and told me about the fact that some people find that the herb cilantro tastes like soap.
Sure enough, there are various discussions online, including an involved discussion on Chowhound.
Neither my spouse nor I find that cilantro tastes like soap but again, we have two reactions to the smell. My husband rarely uses cilantro in his food preparation because he can't stand the odor. On the other hand, I have no problem with it. (I do find the taste somewhat complex, but the first time I tried it it smelled to me like dirty socks would taste, if you were crazy enough to eat one. It did eventually grow on me.)
So what else do my spouse and I differ on, food wise?
1. Brocolli rabe, a staple of my spouse's childhood (I'm of a totally different ethnic group) is heavenly to spouse, but I can't stand it. To me it is so bitter I can't stand it. Even when it is prepared in a way that reduces the bitterness, I still taste it. I'm not the only one; one of my spouses' cousins actually "feel guilty" about disliking this ethnic staple.
2. Strong, mold-type cheeses such as bleu cheese and gorgonzola: again, I find these so bitter I can't stand them. My spouse loves them. In fact my mother in law loves them so much she will put them into salad and I've begged her to serve the cheese on the side. Sometimes she remembers and sometimes she doesn't.
When I had an aunt living in Iowa, we made trips a couple of times to the Maytag Dairy Farms near Newton, IA just so spouse could buy their blue cheese. This was before their blue cheese became a "foodie classic". But it is no classic cheese for me.
There is one other classic reaction to food that I should mention, which is the smell of people's "pee" after eating certain foods. The classic food causing that is asparagus, but there are some other foods that cause pee to smell unpleasant and/or strong. I'm told that asparagus affects everyone's pee, but not everyone can smell it. Fortunately, because both of us love asparagus, neither of us smell it.
Since foods are chemical in nature, should any of this be surprising?
Friday, December 17, 2010
Ah, Those Good Old Internet Days
A Stephen Colbert skit a couple of nights ago reminded me about a special anniversary today.
Fourteen years ago today (1996) I treated myself to a special present: my first computer. A smart phone today is probably more powerful. This beauty, a black Toshiba desktop, set me back (with service contract) nearly $2,000. Its Pentium I 133Mhz processor, 1.6 GB hard drive and 16 MB of Ram were state of the art. It ran Windows 95.
My son still owns it. It's part of his unofficial electronics museum.
Approximately one month later, I went online for the first time, using CompuServe. The browser was Mosaic. It used a 14,400 bps modem to access the Internet. In those days, Internet service was dialup, and not only that, providers charged by the hour.
This is what the Yahoo site looked like in January of 1997. This is the Weather Channel site in April of 1997.
This was the home page for eBay later that year.
It is hard to remember the Internet of early 1997. Many sites were basically text oriented. It took time for those pages to load. I wasn't exactly an online pioneer, but it sure seems like it now.
I even still have my very first email stored. It was request for information to find out how to build a potato "battery". That's what happens when you have a science oriented son.
I was the last generation who knew more about computers than their young son.
Hearing the sound of a modem in that Colbert skit really brought back old memories.
Fourteen years ago today (1996) I treated myself to a special present: my first computer. A smart phone today is probably more powerful. This beauty, a black Toshiba desktop, set me back (with service contract) nearly $2,000. Its Pentium I 133Mhz processor, 1.6 GB hard drive and 16 MB of Ram were state of the art. It ran Windows 95.
My son still owns it. It's part of his unofficial electronics museum.
Approximately one month later, I went online for the first time, using CompuServe. The browser was Mosaic. It used a 14,400 bps modem to access the Internet. In those days, Internet service was dialup, and not only that, providers charged by the hour.
This is what the Yahoo site looked like in January of 1997. This is the Weather Channel site in April of 1997.
This was the home page for eBay later that year.
It is hard to remember the Internet of early 1997. Many sites were basically text oriented. It took time for those pages to load. I wasn't exactly an online pioneer, but it sure seems like it now.
I even still have my very first email stored. It was request for information to find out how to build a potato "battery". That's what happens when you have a science oriented son.
I was the last generation who knew more about computers than their young son.
Hearing the sound of a modem in that Colbert skit really brought back old memories.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Pitching Now-from the Other Side of the Grass
Say it ain't so.
Tell me that the powerful 90 year old man I saw trot to the pitching mound at Doubleday Field in Cooperstown, NY on Fathers Day, 2009 hasn't left the stadium for good.
Tell me that he will come back next year, as he had promised the fans, to pitch again. Tell me he will delight another cohort of young boys and girls outside of Doubleday Field, waiting for him to come and sign their baseballs, even though the era he pitched in was, to them, just a historical footnote.
No, please don't tell me that Bob Feller, a young 92, lost his battle with leukemia yesterday.
When that crowd, and I, saw him trot to the mound, that day in 2009, I knew I was blessed to be there. I felt goosebumps. Chilled, I'm sure I forgot to breathe as thousands in the stadium, gave him a standing ovation.
Why did we all feel that way, about the man from Van Meter, Iowa, the farmer's son?
Have you ever seen the move Field of Dreams? I visited, back in 1995, the site where the movie was filmed, a farm in Northeast Iowa.
Bob Feller's father built the original Field of Dreams, there on his farm near Van Meter, Iowa. Not the movie field, which is over a hundred miles away, but a real Field of Dreams, for his son. And eventually he built bleachers and charged admission, for his son was so good as a young teen that people would pay the princely sum of 25 cents to watch him pitch.
Rapid Robert spent his entire career with one team, the Cleveland Indians. If World War II had not interrupted his career....well, a lot of men of that era had their careers interrupted. But not too many of them volunteered for service the day after Pearl Harbor, and immediately asked to be placed into combat. He served on the USS Alabama. As it was, he pitched for 18 seasons. And not one game featured the type of pitching you find today, with a pitcher rarely seeing a full game. No, this was industrial strength pitching.
I can imagine what Bob Feller, farm strong, would have thought about pitch counting.
Three no hitters, three more than the entire NY Mets during their 48 year history.
It's a cliche, but they just don't make them like that anymore. Goodbye, Rapid Robert. I was so lucky to be able to see you pitch. I will always remember you.
Tell me that the powerful 90 year old man I saw trot to the pitching mound at Doubleday Field in Cooperstown, NY on Fathers Day, 2009 hasn't left the stadium for good.
Tell me that he will come back next year, as he had promised the fans, to pitch again. Tell me he will delight another cohort of young boys and girls outside of Doubleday Field, waiting for him to come and sign their baseballs, even though the era he pitched in was, to them, just a historical footnote.
No, please don't tell me that Bob Feller, a young 92, lost his battle with leukemia yesterday.
When that crowd, and I, saw him trot to the mound, that day in 2009, I knew I was blessed to be there. I felt goosebumps. Chilled, I'm sure I forgot to breathe as thousands in the stadium, gave him a standing ovation.
Why did we all feel that way, about the man from Van Meter, Iowa, the farmer's son?
Have you ever seen the move Field of Dreams? I visited, back in 1995, the site where the movie was filmed, a farm in Northeast Iowa.
Bob Feller's father built the original Field of Dreams, there on his farm near Van Meter, Iowa. Not the movie field, which is over a hundred miles away, but a real Field of Dreams, for his son. And eventually he built bleachers and charged admission, for his son was so good as a young teen that people would pay the princely sum of 25 cents to watch him pitch.
Rapid Robert spent his entire career with one team, the Cleveland Indians. If World War II had not interrupted his career....well, a lot of men of that era had their careers interrupted. But not too many of them volunteered for service the day after Pearl Harbor, and immediately asked to be placed into combat. He served on the USS Alabama. As it was, he pitched for 18 seasons. And not one game featured the type of pitching you find today, with a pitcher rarely seeing a full game. No, this was industrial strength pitching.
I can imagine what Bob Feller, farm strong, would have thought about pitch counting.
Three no hitters, three more than the entire NY Mets during their 48 year history.
It's a cliche, but they just don't make them like that anymore. Goodbye, Rapid Robert. I was so lucky to be able to see you pitch. I will always remember you.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Scent of Paperwhites
Every gardening season has its surprises.
I've wanted, for years, to try to grow paperwhites. These are bulb flowers that are not hardy in our area, and would die if we tried to overwinter them. But instead, many northerners choose to grow them around Christmastime, indoors. They bloom once, and then you have to get rid of them.
I was looking forward to smelling their strong, sweet, fragrance.
So this year, I decided to grow them. I bought three bulbs at a nursery, brought them home, (I already knew I had a suitable pot-wide and shallow) found some colored gravel from a long-ago crafts project, dug them in, watered, left them in the dark for about two weeks. At the end of the two weeks, they had sprouted, and I brought them into the light.
Yes, they were easy. And I didn't even have to stake them.
They've been blooming a bit over a week now and: the scent is strong. Yes, as advertised, it can fill a room.
My spouse loves the scent.
I can't stand it. To me, it smells kind of industrial, with an undertone of manure. What a disappointment! But the flowers are pretty, and I do take them off the windowsill from time to time so that spouse can enjoy it.
Was it just me? Do I have a strange sense of smell? (I can't stand the scent of Russian Olive tree flowers, either- a scent that my spouse absolutely adores.)
No, it isn't me. I'm not alone.
Apparently (if the article I am linking to is correct) about a quarter of the population has a problem with the scent of paperwhites, at least the mass produced ones. I noticed that the local supermarket was selling a variety called "Ziva". What the nursery sold me, I do not know.
So, you can really be surprised sometime. Yes, they were easy. Yes, they were pretty. But would I grow them again? I don't think so, unless I can find one of the varieties that allegedly are more tolerable to those like me.
I've wanted, for years, to try to grow paperwhites. These are bulb flowers that are not hardy in our area, and would die if we tried to overwinter them. But instead, many northerners choose to grow them around Christmastime, indoors. They bloom once, and then you have to get rid of them.
I was looking forward to smelling their strong, sweet, fragrance.
So this year, I decided to grow them. I bought three bulbs at a nursery, brought them home, (I already knew I had a suitable pot-wide and shallow) found some colored gravel from a long-ago crafts project, dug them in, watered, left them in the dark for about two weeks. At the end of the two weeks, they had sprouted, and I brought them into the light.
Yes, they were easy. And I didn't even have to stake them.
They've been blooming a bit over a week now and: the scent is strong. Yes, as advertised, it can fill a room.
My spouse loves the scent.
I can't stand it. To me, it smells kind of industrial, with an undertone of manure. What a disappointment! But the flowers are pretty, and I do take them off the windowsill from time to time so that spouse can enjoy it.
Was it just me? Do I have a strange sense of smell? (I can't stand the scent of Russian Olive tree flowers, either- a scent that my spouse absolutely adores.)
No, it isn't me. I'm not alone.
Apparently (if the article I am linking to is correct) about a quarter of the population has a problem with the scent of paperwhites, at least the mass produced ones. I noticed that the local supermarket was selling a variety called "Ziva". What the nursery sold me, I do not know.
So, you can really be surprised sometime. Yes, they were easy. Yes, they were pretty. But would I grow them again? I don't think so, unless I can find one of the varieties that allegedly are more tolerable to those like me.
Monday, December 6, 2010
My Annual "Why do I live here" Lament
Winter. It's here. Not on the calendar yet, but snow coats the sidewalk. Even the snowglobe effect of snow twirling in the air can't defrost my heart. Winter. I hate it. I am grateful, though, that I don't live in Syracuse. Several of my co workers do. As of early afternoon they had over 13 inches of snow on the ground. Yes, it could be worse.
Blowing, shivery winds make me doubt my sanity for ever moving from Florida in the mid 1970's. Were the palmetto bugs ever that bad? Or the hot humid summers? Shouldn't I have stayed? Why didn't I chose somewhere with less snow? Less gloom? More sunny winter days?
My snowbird neighbors have finally left for the great South. Maybe they secretly laugh at us, we who stay up here.
Winter. For the rest of this month, Christmas lights light up the night, and pointsettias brighten our homes. But soon the cookies and eggnog will disappear and the lights will come down, leaving us only with the pointless short winter days.
Perhaps it is time for me to direct my thoughts, northward, towards Fairbanks. It is dark there right now and 12 below zero. This morning their low was 23 below. They are down to 4 hours and 18 minutes of daylight.
Winter and upstate NY. Why did I ever move here?
But then I open the refrigerator and spy the half-full jug of local Purity Eggnog, the best eggnog on earth. I eat the local apples still crisp from the fall harvest. I think of the local goat cheese waiting to be cut and eaten. I remember what is good about upstate NY.
But I still hate winter.
Blowing, shivery winds make me doubt my sanity for ever moving from Florida in the mid 1970's. Were the palmetto bugs ever that bad? Or the hot humid summers? Shouldn't I have stayed? Why didn't I chose somewhere with less snow? Less gloom? More sunny winter days?
My snowbird neighbors have finally left for the great South. Maybe they secretly laugh at us, we who stay up here.
Winter. For the rest of this month, Christmas lights light up the night, and pointsettias brighten our homes. But soon the cookies and eggnog will disappear and the lights will come down, leaving us only with the pointless short winter days.
Perhaps it is time for me to direct my thoughts, northward, towards Fairbanks. It is dark there right now and 12 below zero. This morning their low was 23 below. They are down to 4 hours and 18 minutes of daylight.
Winter and upstate NY. Why did I ever move here?
But then I open the refrigerator and spy the half-full jug of local Purity Eggnog, the best eggnog on earth. I eat the local apples still crisp from the fall harvest. I think of the local goat cheese waiting to be cut and eaten. I remember what is good about upstate NY.
But I still hate winter.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Driving the Dream
Since joining Facebook I've gotten to know some people I haven't seen in years, but communicated with through e-mail, in a whole different way. I've learned a lot reading their posts. I know that, of people close to my age: one dances the tango, one runs in marathons, another travels the world on business.
So, all that being true, why shouldn't I think about doing something I've dreamed about since being a teenager?
I mean dream literally, as in sleep dreams.
In those dreams, I would be ...somewhere. Somewhere, walking with purpose.
In these dreams, I would be in the middle of a walk across the United States. As dreams go, there was no beginning, there was only the "walk in progress". I figure I'd have these dreams several times a year. And then, one day, the dreams stopped. Strangely, my spouse had these types of dreams too, except he would be running.
When you are young, you up and do something, no fear, sometimes no planning. As someone almost a "senior",the mind works differently-that's both good, and bad.
Good, because you know you have to plan.
Bad, because you can be too easily scared. Or overwhelmed by details. Or, feeling the aching knee or the hurting ankle, wonder what the heck is possessing you. Or looking in the mirror and seeing the weight that wasn't there when you were a teen, and knowing you have a bad back, that can cause some self-pity too. Arthritis can slow you down a little.
Well, right after Thanksgiving, something happened. The day after Thanksgiving, two of my spouses' cousins climbed into a moving truck and drove from South Florida to Southern California. It took them about a week. They stopped in various places and did sightseeing: New Orleans, Austin. They posted pictures as they went, via their mobile phone, on Facebook.
If I had done that walk across the country when I was young, but assuming I was young today and not in the 60's, I would have posted those pictures, too. And in fact, earlier this year, a group of young people from the Rochester, NY area did just that, when they walked across the country in an undertaking called "Walk the Dream". I followed them on Facebook, just as I followed my cousins in law in their drive.
Now, it's my turn.
Do I take up the challenge? It doesn't have to be a cross country walk. It could be (walking) a 1/2 marathon. The point is, at my age the saying "use ir or lose it" is so true. I must not lose my sense of wanting to do something I have dreamed about for years. It isn't too late. I know I won't do it tomorrow, as winter closes in. But I must keep this dream burning bright.
So, all that being true, why shouldn't I think about doing something I've dreamed about since being a teenager?
I mean dream literally, as in sleep dreams.
In those dreams, I would be ...somewhere. Somewhere, walking with purpose.
In these dreams, I would be in the middle of a walk across the United States. As dreams go, there was no beginning, there was only the "walk in progress". I figure I'd have these dreams several times a year. And then, one day, the dreams stopped. Strangely, my spouse had these types of dreams too, except he would be running.
When you are young, you up and do something, no fear, sometimes no planning. As someone almost a "senior",the mind works differently-that's both good, and bad.
Good, because you know you have to plan.
Bad, because you can be too easily scared. Or overwhelmed by details. Or, feeling the aching knee or the hurting ankle, wonder what the heck is possessing you. Or looking in the mirror and seeing the weight that wasn't there when you were a teen, and knowing you have a bad back, that can cause some self-pity too. Arthritis can slow you down a little.
Well, right after Thanksgiving, something happened. The day after Thanksgiving, two of my spouses' cousins climbed into a moving truck and drove from South Florida to Southern California. It took them about a week. They stopped in various places and did sightseeing: New Orleans, Austin. They posted pictures as they went, via their mobile phone, on Facebook.
If I had done that walk across the country when I was young, but assuming I was young today and not in the 60's, I would have posted those pictures, too. And in fact, earlier this year, a group of young people from the Rochester, NY area did just that, when they walked across the country in an undertaking called "Walk the Dream". I followed them on Facebook, just as I followed my cousins in law in their drive.
Now, it's my turn.
Do I take up the challenge? It doesn't have to be a cross country walk. It could be (walking) a 1/2 marathon. The point is, at my age the saying "use ir or lose it" is so true. I must not lose my sense of wanting to do something I have dreamed about for years. It isn't too late. I know I won't do it tomorrow, as winter closes in. But I must keep this dream burning bright.
Friday, December 3, 2010
I'm Swimming in Lake OldSchool
I have never blogged about my job before. I'm not going to (specifically) but I had such a frustrating day today that I want to talk about workplace tensions (and differences in expectation) between babyboomers and people in their 20's and early 30's.
Someone I know, when that person talks to friends about this difference in outlook and attitude says we babyboomers are "swimming in Lake OldSchool".
On one level I realize people in their 20's and early 30's grew up in a totally different world than people in their 50's and early 60's. I have more in common with Greatest Generation people 15 years older than me than people even 15 years younger than me.
I grew up in a world where there was no internet, where employer and employee both expected loyalty (that one is totally gone) toward each other, where people were expected to take transfers without complaint, where women stayed home to raise their children (is this beginning to sound like Mad Men?), where a person was expected to take pride in their job.
Younger employees march to a beat of a totally different drummer. They walk in the door and wonder why they aren't CEO in three months. They seem so needy....needy for constant praise and reinforcement. They want a prize for every tiny accomplishment. There's no respect for authority. (I know, there is some type of cosmic justice about that, considering that we baby boomers were "questioning authority" in the 1960's and telling each other not to "trust anyone over 30".) I see the young people take to office technology like ducks to water, but then stare blankly when you expect them to understand concepts that aren't technology related. They want to be challenged, but can't seem to understand that everything can't be fun, that what they are doing is called "Work" for a reason.
Because my college major was anthropology, this normally would be fascinating to me. However, I am trying not to drown in Lake OldSchool. I know that my generation will be gone from the workplace in a few years (or maybe not, if Social Security disappears), and these employees are going to take over. Yes, I know it, because at work the people of my generation are constantly reminded that we are obsolete.
It's not just me. I did a very short websearch and found entire books have been written on this workplace tension, including tomes devoted to managers who have to work with this generation gap. However, the prevailing attitude of these books towards baby boomers seems to be "you're on your way out, so suck it up".
So that means that the values of baby boomers are not worthwhile? That values of wanting to give good value to an employer willing to pay for a day's work are obsolete? That we should not point out to young ones that they are expected to work rather than surf the net and text each other? Since when were young people granted a right to verbally abuse older coworkers because they are young and will own the workplace one day?
I don't think this is the "generation gap" of Socrates.
I don't think it is immaturity.
It is something else, a physical change in the brain. Think that is far fetched?
When I was young, I was a big fan of science fiction. There is a 1943 science fiction story called "Mimsy Were the Borogoves." I think about that story a lot lately, although I havn't read it in many years.
If you are interested in tension between our two generations, you may want to hunt down this story and read it.
That is what we are facing, and it isn't going to get better for people my age.
So what do we do about it, without losing our sanity?
Someone I know, when that person talks to friends about this difference in outlook and attitude says we babyboomers are "swimming in Lake OldSchool".
On one level I realize people in their 20's and early 30's grew up in a totally different world than people in their 50's and early 60's. I have more in common with Greatest Generation people 15 years older than me than people even 15 years younger than me.
I grew up in a world where there was no internet, where employer and employee both expected loyalty (that one is totally gone) toward each other, where people were expected to take transfers without complaint, where women stayed home to raise their children (is this beginning to sound like Mad Men?), where a person was expected to take pride in their job.
Younger employees march to a beat of a totally different drummer. They walk in the door and wonder why they aren't CEO in three months. They seem so needy....needy for constant praise and reinforcement. They want a prize for every tiny accomplishment. There's no respect for authority. (I know, there is some type of cosmic justice about that, considering that we baby boomers were "questioning authority" in the 1960's and telling each other not to "trust anyone over 30".) I see the young people take to office technology like ducks to water, but then stare blankly when you expect them to understand concepts that aren't technology related. They want to be challenged, but can't seem to understand that everything can't be fun, that what they are doing is called "Work" for a reason.
Because my college major was anthropology, this normally would be fascinating to me. However, I am trying not to drown in Lake OldSchool. I know that my generation will be gone from the workplace in a few years (or maybe not, if Social Security disappears), and these employees are going to take over. Yes, I know it, because at work the people of my generation are constantly reminded that we are obsolete.
It's not just me. I did a very short websearch and found entire books have been written on this workplace tension, including tomes devoted to managers who have to work with this generation gap. However, the prevailing attitude of these books towards baby boomers seems to be "you're on your way out, so suck it up".
So that means that the values of baby boomers are not worthwhile? That values of wanting to give good value to an employer willing to pay for a day's work are obsolete? That we should not point out to young ones that they are expected to work rather than surf the net and text each other? Since when were young people granted a right to verbally abuse older coworkers because they are young and will own the workplace one day?
I don't think this is the "generation gap" of Socrates.
I don't think it is immaturity.
It is something else, a physical change in the brain. Think that is far fetched?
When I was young, I was a big fan of science fiction. There is a 1943 science fiction story called "Mimsy Were the Borogoves." I think about that story a lot lately, although I havn't read it in many years.
If you are interested in tension between our two generations, you may want to hunt down this story and read it.
That is what we are facing, and it isn't going to get better for people my age.
So what do we do about it, without losing our sanity?
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