September 29, 2009
Today I begin to put my thoughts, observations, opinions and memories into something more stable and permanent than my mind.
My commitment is to be truthful, fair and candid to the extent I can stand the heat. I hope this provides some interesting reading, if only for myself.
Just filled out a little of my profile, but I have lived a reasonably long and varied life, so more to come. Oddly, I didn't put in my birth year, even though (or because) I am over the big sic...sic...six-ooooh!
Analyzing this, I can think of two times in my life when I was way out of step with society. One, securely married for 25 years, during which "free, easy and safe" love was de rigueur, only to later find myself single and walking straight into HIV worries and justifiably skittish women.
And, two, courteous and respectful to my elders for all the years of my youth and beyond, only to arrive at "elder" at a time when the term has no perks, and is regarded by the young amost as a disease.
If venerable was a working word, I probably would be proud of surviving to this wonderful time of life. As it is, I think I will go buy some haircolor...
Thursday, March 24, 2011
About Those Ides . . .
March 9th, 2011
Well, we can blame the whole of it on the Roman calendar, that from the Latin [Kalendae], meaning “accounts”, as debts were due on the first day of each month, even then.
It gets a little fuzzy from there, but one sensible version derives ides from the Latin [iduare], “to divide”. So, the famous “Ides of March” refers to the middle, or 15th of March.
Of course March, named after the Roman god Mars, can be a rocky month, as fitting for a god of war. Julius Caesar found that out the hard way, having put in a very sticky day at the Senate on the 15th of March, 44 BC. Hence the admonition, “Beware the Ides of March!”
A Google search finds some interesting trivia, such as:
Our modern calendar is based on the Roman one, which originally had ten months of 30 or 31 days each, with a 61 day period between December and March that fell outside the calendar.
This gap was presumably because the calendar was chiefly used to regulate planting and harvesting and this period was unimportant to farmers.
The later addition of two more months explains why the numerical Latin roots of the months’ names are two off from their position on the calendar. October was originally the eighth month, September the ninth, December 10th etc.
And, this…
The Ides of March (Latin: Idus Martii) is the name of 15 March in the Roman calendar, probably referring to the day of the full moon. The term ides was used for the 15th day of the months of March, May, July, and October, and the 13th day of the other months. The Ides of March was a festive day dedicated to the god Mars and a military parade was usually held.
In modern times, the term Ides of March is best known as the day Julius Caesar was stabbed (23 times) to death in the Roman Senate by Marcus Brutus and 60 co-conspirators.
On his way to the Theatre of Pompey (where he would be assassinated), Julias saw a seer who had foretold that harm would come to him not later than the Ides of March.
Caesar joked, “Well, the Ides of March have come”, to which the seer replied “Ay, they have come, but not gone.”
So let’s show a little respect!
Well, we can blame the whole of it on the Roman calendar, that from the Latin [Kalendae], meaning “accounts”, as debts were due on the first day of each month, even then.
It gets a little fuzzy from there, but one sensible version derives ides from the Latin [iduare], “to divide”. So, the famous “Ides of March” refers to the middle, or 15th of March.
Of course March, named after the Roman god Mars, can be a rocky month, as fitting for a god of war. Julius Caesar found that out the hard way, having put in a very sticky day at the Senate on the 15th of March, 44 BC. Hence the admonition, “Beware the Ides of March!”
A Google search finds some interesting trivia, such as:
Our modern calendar is based on the Roman one, which originally had ten months of 30 or 31 days each, with a 61 day period between December and March that fell outside the calendar.
This gap was presumably because the calendar was chiefly used to regulate planting and harvesting and this period was unimportant to farmers.
The later addition of two more months explains why the numerical Latin roots of the months’ names are two off from their position on the calendar. October was originally the eighth month, September the ninth, December 10th etc.
And, this…
The Ides of March (Latin: Idus Martii) is the name of 15 March in the Roman calendar, probably referring to the day of the full moon. The term ides was used for the 15th day of the months of March, May, July, and October, and the 13th day of the other months. The Ides of March was a festive day dedicated to the god Mars and a military parade was usually held.
In modern times, the term Ides of March is best known as the day Julius Caesar was stabbed (23 times) to death in the Roman Senate by Marcus Brutus and 60 co-conspirators.
On his way to the Theatre of Pompey (where he would be assassinated), Julias saw a seer who had foretold that harm would come to him not later than the Ides of March.
Caesar joked, “Well, the Ides of March have come”, to which the seer replied “Ay, they have come, but not gone.”
So let’s show a little respect!
You Define Your Paradise!
February 11th, 2011
In a little village in coastal Mexico, a vacationing businessman sat watching the small boat glide quietly to its dock. It was mid- morning and pleasantly warm.
“Any luck?’, he queried the solitary captain. “Si, Amigo, the fishing it is very good here, and so it has been a fine day for me” said the man.
“How many more times will you go out today?”
“No more- just this one time, Senor… I have caught my fish. Now I will sell them, go home to have lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep. Tomorrow morning I will be up early to do all this again. It is always so”.
“But if you go back out today you will have more fish to sell. You will make more money and could hire men to help you fish. Soon, you could buy another fishing boat, then more fishing boats until you have a fleet and many workers. You could have boats out all day long and even at night. You could become very rich!”
“And so, I would have much money to spend in any way I wanted, yes? I could then do anything I wanted to do?”
“Yes, now you understand! Anything you wanted to do!”
“Ah then, amigo, I would choose to be home for lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep…”
In a little village in coastal Mexico, a vacationing businessman sat watching the small boat glide quietly to its dock. It was mid- morning and pleasantly warm.
“Any luck?’, he queried the solitary captain. “Si, Amigo, the fishing it is very good here, and so it has been a fine day for me” said the man.
“How many more times will you go out today?”
“No more- just this one time, Senor… I have caught my fish. Now I will sell them, go home to have lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep. Tomorrow morning I will be up early to do all this again. It is always so”.
“But if you go back out today you will have more fish to sell. You will make more money and could hire men to help you fish. Soon, you could buy another fishing boat, then more fishing boats until you have a fleet and many workers. You could have boats out all day long and even at night. You could become very rich!”
“And so, I would have much money to spend in any way I wanted, yes? I could then do anything I wanted to do?”
“Yes, now you understand! Anything you wanted to do!”
“Ah then, amigo, I would choose to be home for lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep…”
I want to make up with you!
January 21st, 2011
Really, if you knew me, you would like me.
Not much possible though, as I died in 1939. Still, could you live without me? To live without me is to live without modern “makeup” (a term my brother came up with), false eyelashes, the eyebrow pencil, lip gloss, cream makeup, water-proof makeup, powder makeup and much more.
True enough, I was born to a humble life. My father could not afford a formal education for his large family, and at an early age I became an apprentice to a pharmacist. Years of mixing potions gave me a love for something all women love- cosmetics.
Living my early years in Poland and Russia, I came to America just in time for the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. I was able to get a booth for my cosmetics and made a name for myself, one customer at a time. So much so that Hollywood wanted me for their new “movies”.
Seems the grease paint used for stage performances was a bit “over the top” for the screen. Did I tell you I invented the first cream makeup? Very natural look for the screen.
Then came Technicolor, and the makeup used for the black and whites did not work- It was too shiny, and reflected the colors around it- not good. Did I also mention I invented the first “pancake” makeup? Not at all shiny - no reflections.
I was best at lips. Some of the lips that thrilled the early world of movie goers were my inventions - Gloria Swanson, Mary Pickford, Jean Harlow, Claudette Colbert, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Judy Garland.
My strangest studio request? To invent a cosmetic to make the great Lena Horne look darker! Go figure. I called it Egyptian makeup- it worked like a charm. Get it?
So, my brother, Frank, he says to me “If you don’t let me sell this cosmetic, which I shall call “Makeup”, to the ladies of this great land, Maximilian Faktorowicz, I will never speak to you again!” Well, he was my brother- what could I do?
As it happened, the “ladies of this great land” went wild over the new “makeup”. Truly wild. We, poor immigrants, were successful beyond what anyone could imagine! How successful? My brother, Frank, sold the company in the early 70’s for something like a half-billion dollars! What would that be in today’s dollars? Well, no matter.
Now, here is what I can not understand. Why, after I died, did Frank change his name to “Max Factor, Jr.” ?
Lady, truly you look maah-vell-us, darling! Glad I could help…
Max
Really, if you knew me, you would like me.
Not much possible though, as I died in 1939. Still, could you live without me? To live without me is to live without modern “makeup” (a term my brother came up with), false eyelashes, the eyebrow pencil, lip gloss, cream makeup, water-proof makeup, powder makeup and much more.
True enough, I was born to a humble life. My father could not afford a formal education for his large family, and at an early age I became an apprentice to a pharmacist. Years of mixing potions gave me a love for something all women love- cosmetics.
Living my early years in Poland and Russia, I came to America just in time for the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. I was able to get a booth for my cosmetics and made a name for myself, one customer at a time. So much so that Hollywood wanted me for their new “movies”.
Seems the grease paint used for stage performances was a bit “over the top” for the screen. Did I tell you I invented the first cream makeup? Very natural look for the screen.
Then came Technicolor, and the makeup used for the black and whites did not work- It was too shiny, and reflected the colors around it- not good. Did I also mention I invented the first “pancake” makeup? Not at all shiny - no reflections.
I was best at lips. Some of the lips that thrilled the early world of movie goers were my inventions - Gloria Swanson, Mary Pickford, Jean Harlow, Claudette Colbert, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Judy Garland.
My strangest studio request? To invent a cosmetic to make the great Lena Horne look darker! Go figure. I called it Egyptian makeup- it worked like a charm. Get it?
So, my brother, Frank, he says to me “If you don’t let me sell this cosmetic, which I shall call “Makeup”, to the ladies of this great land, Maximilian Faktorowicz, I will never speak to you again!” Well, he was my brother- what could I do?
As it happened, the “ladies of this great land” went wild over the new “makeup”. Truly wild. We, poor immigrants, were successful beyond what anyone could imagine! How successful? My brother, Frank, sold the company in the early 70’s for something like a half-billion dollars! What would that be in today’s dollars? Well, no matter.
Now, here is what I can not understand. Why, after I died, did Frank change his name to “Max Factor, Jr.” ?
Lady, truly you look maah-vell-us, darling! Glad I could help…
Max
Just For Today...
January 8th, 2011
JUST FOR TODAYI will try to live through this day only, and not tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today, I will be happy. This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that most folks are “about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
Just for today, I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
Just for today, I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my “luck” as it comes, and fit myself to it.
Just for today, I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and not get found out. I will do at least two things I don’t want to–just for exercise. I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not show it
Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, not find fault with anything and not try to improve or regulate anybody except myself.
Just for today, I will have a program. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
Just for today, I will have a quiet half hour all by myself, and relax. During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
Just for today, I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.
Kenneth Holmes
JUST FOR TODAYI will try to live through this day only, and not tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today, I will be happy. This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that most folks are “about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
Just for today, I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
Just for today, I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my “luck” as it comes, and fit myself to it.
Just for today, I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and not get found out. I will do at least two things I don’t want to–just for exercise. I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not show it
Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, not find fault with anything and not try to improve or regulate anybody except myself.
Just for today, I will have a program. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
Just for today, I will have a quiet half hour all by myself, and relax. During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
Just for today, I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.
Kenneth Holmes
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
By the mysteries of the electronic monster, some blogs have been "misplaced" - really misplaced. So they are reprinted here with the original publish date:
Giving Thanks November 26th, 2010
We hope everyone enjoyed a pleasant Thanksgiving!
For the past several years, it has been my honor to begin our family festivities with a short poem authored by my mother many years ago. Permit me to share:
“Thanksgiving”
Gathered around the table,
Hands folded, heads bowed.
Hearts meeting in prayer.
Vibrant tresses, athirst for life;
Older heads touched by strife;
Unseen heads no longer there;
Shining heads, free from care;
Grey heads wearing a silver crown;
Reverent feelings all around.
Invisible threads,
Bonding the past and future,
Together,
in Thanksgiving.
Larraine Rogers
Tanks For The Memories… December 9th, 2009
Odd that I conjure memories of a summer adventure to relate a Christmas story, but everything I recount occurred during the dog days of August, 1991.
Odder yet, to my memory it was winter. The days were dull and dreary- like a scene from Orwell’s 1984. Color of any kind was in short supply, laughter seldom heard. People scuttled along the cracked sidewalks with heads bowed, looking neither right nor left, carefully averting their eyes. The only thing missing was snow, which would have improved practically everything in sight.
With surprising suddenness, a band of gypsies surrounded me as I walked to the exhibit hall where I would participate as a member of an exclusive Cosmetology Ambassador mission. They were “dippers” as pickpockets are known, and escaping their touches with a light jog, I entered the building as the show began, relieved to be free of them and feeling for missing articles.
Halfway through a structured exchange session, the program was abruptly stopped. We were instructed, without explanation, to return to our bus immediately. The scene we met outside was startling- tanks larger than one could imagine lead a fully-armed military force down the street.
We were being returned to our hotel, the ride back eerily quiet. Tanks were where they did not belong, armored vehicles sat everywhere, foot soldiers carrying machine guns in the ready position. Many roads were blocked, requiring detours and frequent long stops. Would our bus be boarded? Had someone from our group committed an unforgivable sin? Were we to be imprisoned in Moscow?
At the hotel, we finally got the scoop- a major coupe was in progress, the Soviet Union likely to fall! We were warned- Do Not Go Out- Never Be Alone, especially on the chancy elevators!
The lobby became the great meeting place- a safe haven of sorts, providing a comfort one’s room sadly lacked. No one slept - fear was too palpable, too present.
Various diversions were trotted out that long night, the gloom not lifting until it was suggested we create a beauty salon right in the lobby! Our little group of “ambassadors” had few supplies, and spoke as little Russian as the hotel staff did English, but we were “hell on wheels” with haircuts, makeup and massages!
We learned that night that great communicating can be accomplished with smiles, facial expressions and gestures. We learned that not everyone gets to sleep without fear. And, we learned that a haircut can be… magic!
I have many times felt pride in how much difference a cosmetology professional can make in a life. This, however, was extra special… a treasure I will never forget..
As to the coupe, it fizzled after a few days, but the effect was sobering. The Soviet Union fell not many weeks later, on Christmas Day, December 25th, 1991!
DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER December 14th, 2010
December 8: 6:00 PM. Started to snow- first of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!
December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the whole world? Moving here was the best idea I’ve ever had! Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a kid again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snow plow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. Great exercise!
December 12: The sun melted our lovely snow. Bob tells me not to worry, we’ll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we’ll have so much by the end of winter, that I’ll never want to see snow again. I don’t think that’s possible. Bob is such a nice man. I’m glad he’s our neighbor.
December 14: Snow, lovely snow! 8″ last night. The temperature dropped to 9 degrees - makes everything sparkle! The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. So exhilarating! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn’t realize I would have to do this much shoveling, but I’ll certainly get back in shape this way.
December 15: 11 more inches of snow fell. Sold my van and bought a 4×4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife’s car and 2 extra snow shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that’s silly. We aren’t in Alaska after all.
December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my butt on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. The wife laughed hysterically, which I think was cruel.
December 17: Temp still below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but look at the wife. Guess I should’ve bought a wood stove. I can’t believe I’m freezing to death in my own living room!
December 20: Electricity back on - but another 10″ of the white stuff last night. Shoveling took all day. The snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they’re too busy playing hockey. I think they’re lying. Called our only hardware store to see about a snow blower - they’re out. Another shipment due in March - I think they’re lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he’s lying.
December 21: The city did my plowing and charged me. I hate it when Bob’s right!
December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 inches fell today, and it’s so cold it probably won’t melt till August! Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel, but by that time I was too tired to shovel. I tried to hire Bob, who has a plow on his truck, for the rest of the winter, but he says he’s too busy. I think he’s lying.
December 23: Only 2″ of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What, is she…nuts??? Why didn’t she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she’s lying.
December 24: 6″. Snow packed so hard by snowplow I broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the guy who drives that snowplow, I’ll drag him through the snow by his hair! I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at 50 miles an hour throwing snow all over where I’ve just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the snowplow.
December 25: Merry Christmas. 8 more inches of the !^@x@&* slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil! I hate snow! Then, the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she’s lying. If I have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” one more time, I’m going to scream!
December 26: Still snowed in. Why did I ever move here?
December 27: Temperature dropped to -10 and the pipes froze.
December 28: Warmed up to above -5. Warmed up? Still snowed in.
December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That’s the silliest thing I ever heard! How dumb does he think I am?
December 30: Roof caved in. The snowplow driver is suing me for a million dollars for the bump on his head. The wife went home to her mother. 9″ predicted.
December 31: Set fire to what’s left of the house. No more shoveling.
January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I strapped to the bed? Why is everyone wearing white coats?
Happy Holidays, All!!!
A Funny Christmas Story… December 23rd, 2010
George worked for the Post Office and his job was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day, just before Christmas, a letter landed on his desk simply addressed in shaky handwriting “‘To God”. With no other clue on the envelope, George opened the letter and read:
“Dear God,
I am a 93 year old widow living on welfare. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $200 in it, which was all the money I had in the world. Next week is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for Christmas lunch. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. God, can you please help me?”
George, being kind hearted, put a copy of the letter up on the bulletin board where he worked. The letter touched the other postal employees, and they dug into their pockets, raising $190.
Using an official Post Office envelope, they sent the cash on to the old lady, and for the rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Christmas came and went. A few days after, another letter addressed “To God” appeared. Everyone gathered around while George opened the letter. It read:
“Dear God,
How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your generosity, I was able to provide a lovely luncheon for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift - in fact we haven’t gotten over it yet. By the way, there was $10 missing. I think it must have been those damn thieves at the Post Office.”
Hope you enjoyed! Please accept our sincere wishes for a wonderful Holiday to you and yours!
Don’t Forget Valentine’s Day! February 4th, 2011
Jim asked his friend, Tony, whether he had bought his wife anything for Valentine’s Day.
‘Yes,’ came the answer from Tony who was a bit of a chauvinist, ‘I’ve bought her a belt and a bag.’
‘That was very kind of you,’ Jim added, ‘I hope she appreciated the thought.’
Tony smiled as he replied, ‘So do I, and hopefully the vacuum cleaner will work now.’
You Define Your Paradise! February 11th, 2011
In a little village in coastal Mexico, a vacationing businessman sat watching the small boat glide quietly to its dock. It was mid- morning and pleasantly warm.
“Any luck?’, he queried the solitary captain. “Si, Amigo, the fishing it is very good here, and so it has been a fine day for me” said the man.
“How many more times will you go out today?”
“No more- just this one time, Senor… I have caught my fish. Now I will sell them, go home to have lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep. Tomorrow morning I will be up early to do all this again. It is always so”.
“But if you go back out today you will have more fish to sell. You will make more money and could hire men to help you fish. Soon, you could buy another fishing boat, then more fishing boats until you have a fleet and many workers. You could have boats out all day long and even at night. You could become very rich!”
“And so, I would have much money to spend in any way I wanted, yes? I could then do anything I wanted to do?”
“Yes, now you understand! Anything you wanted to do!”
“Ah then, amigo, I would choose to be home for lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep…”
Giving Thanks November 26th, 2010
We hope everyone enjoyed a pleasant Thanksgiving!
For the past several years, it has been my honor to begin our family festivities with a short poem authored by my mother many years ago. Permit me to share:
“Thanksgiving”
Gathered around the table,
Hands folded, heads bowed.
Hearts meeting in prayer.
Vibrant tresses, athirst for life;
Older heads touched by strife;
Unseen heads no longer there;
Shining heads, free from care;
Grey heads wearing a silver crown;
Reverent feelings all around.
Invisible threads,
Bonding the past and future,
Together,
in Thanksgiving.
Larraine Rogers
Tanks For The Memories… December 9th, 2009
Odd that I conjure memories of a summer adventure to relate a Christmas story, but everything I recount occurred during the dog days of August, 1991.
Odder yet, to my memory it was winter. The days were dull and dreary- like a scene from Orwell’s 1984. Color of any kind was in short supply, laughter seldom heard. People scuttled along the cracked sidewalks with heads bowed, looking neither right nor left, carefully averting their eyes. The only thing missing was snow, which would have improved practically everything in sight.
With surprising suddenness, a band of gypsies surrounded me as I walked to the exhibit hall where I would participate as a member of an exclusive Cosmetology Ambassador mission. They were “dippers” as pickpockets are known, and escaping their touches with a light jog, I entered the building as the show began, relieved to be free of them and feeling for missing articles.
Halfway through a structured exchange session, the program was abruptly stopped. We were instructed, without explanation, to return to our bus immediately. The scene we met outside was startling- tanks larger than one could imagine lead a fully-armed military force down the street.
We were being returned to our hotel, the ride back eerily quiet. Tanks were where they did not belong, armored vehicles sat everywhere, foot soldiers carrying machine guns in the ready position. Many roads were blocked, requiring detours and frequent long stops. Would our bus be boarded? Had someone from our group committed an unforgivable sin? Were we to be imprisoned in Moscow?
At the hotel, we finally got the scoop- a major coupe was in progress, the Soviet Union likely to fall! We were warned- Do Not Go Out- Never Be Alone, especially on the chancy elevators!
The lobby became the great meeting place- a safe haven of sorts, providing a comfort one’s room sadly lacked. No one slept - fear was too palpable, too present.
Various diversions were trotted out that long night, the gloom not lifting until it was suggested we create a beauty salon right in the lobby! Our little group of “ambassadors” had few supplies, and spoke as little Russian as the hotel staff did English, but we were “hell on wheels” with haircuts, makeup and massages!
We learned that night that great communicating can be accomplished with smiles, facial expressions and gestures. We learned that not everyone gets to sleep without fear. And, we learned that a haircut can be… magic!
I have many times felt pride in how much difference a cosmetology professional can make in a life. This, however, was extra special… a treasure I will never forget..
As to the coupe, it fizzled after a few days, but the effect was sobering. The Soviet Union fell not many weeks later, on Christmas Day, December 25th, 1991!
DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER December 14th, 2010
December 8: 6:00 PM. Started to snow- first of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!
December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the whole world? Moving here was the best idea I’ve ever had! Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a kid again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snow plow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. Great exercise!
December 12: The sun melted our lovely snow. Bob tells me not to worry, we’ll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we’ll have so much by the end of winter, that I’ll never want to see snow again. I don’t think that’s possible. Bob is such a nice man. I’m glad he’s our neighbor.
December 14: Snow, lovely snow! 8″ last night. The temperature dropped to 9 degrees - makes everything sparkle! The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. So exhilarating! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn’t realize I would have to do this much shoveling, but I’ll certainly get back in shape this way.
December 15: 11 more inches of snow fell. Sold my van and bought a 4×4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife’s car and 2 extra snow shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that’s silly. We aren’t in Alaska after all.
December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my butt on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. The wife laughed hysterically, which I think was cruel.
December 17: Temp still below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but look at the wife. Guess I should’ve bought a wood stove. I can’t believe I’m freezing to death in my own living room!
December 20: Electricity back on - but another 10″ of the white stuff last night. Shoveling took all day. The snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they’re too busy playing hockey. I think they’re lying. Called our only hardware store to see about a snow blower - they’re out. Another shipment due in March - I think they’re lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he’s lying.
December 21: The city did my plowing and charged me. I hate it when Bob’s right!
December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 inches fell today, and it’s so cold it probably won’t melt till August! Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel, but by that time I was too tired to shovel. I tried to hire Bob, who has a plow on his truck, for the rest of the winter, but he says he’s too busy. I think he’s lying.
December 23: Only 2″ of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What, is she…nuts??? Why didn’t she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she’s lying.
December 24: 6″. Snow packed so hard by snowplow I broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the guy who drives that snowplow, I’ll drag him through the snow by his hair! I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at 50 miles an hour throwing snow all over where I’ve just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the snowplow.
December 25: Merry Christmas. 8 more inches of the !^@x@&* slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil! I hate snow! Then, the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she’s lying. If I have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” one more time, I’m going to scream!
December 26: Still snowed in. Why did I ever move here?
December 27: Temperature dropped to -10 and the pipes froze.
December 28: Warmed up to above -5. Warmed up? Still snowed in.
December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That’s the silliest thing I ever heard! How dumb does he think I am?
December 30: Roof caved in. The snowplow driver is suing me for a million dollars for the bump on his head. The wife went home to her mother. 9″ predicted.
December 31: Set fire to what’s left of the house. No more shoveling.
January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I strapped to the bed? Why is everyone wearing white coats?
Happy Holidays, All!!!
A Funny Christmas Story… December 23rd, 2010
George worked for the Post Office and his job was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day, just before Christmas, a letter landed on his desk simply addressed in shaky handwriting “‘To God”. With no other clue on the envelope, George opened the letter and read:
“Dear God,
I am a 93 year old widow living on welfare. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $200 in it, which was all the money I had in the world. Next week is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for Christmas lunch. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. God, can you please help me?”
George, being kind hearted, put a copy of the letter up on the bulletin board where he worked. The letter touched the other postal employees, and they dug into their pockets, raising $190.
Using an official Post Office envelope, they sent the cash on to the old lady, and for the rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Christmas came and went. A few days after, another letter addressed “To God” appeared. Everyone gathered around while George opened the letter. It read:
“Dear God,
How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your generosity, I was able to provide a lovely luncheon for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift - in fact we haven’t gotten over it yet. By the way, there was $10 missing. I think it must have been those damn thieves at the Post Office.”
Hope you enjoyed! Please accept our sincere wishes for a wonderful Holiday to you and yours!
Don’t Forget Valentine’s Day! February 4th, 2011
Jim asked his friend, Tony, whether he had bought his wife anything for Valentine’s Day.
‘Yes,’ came the answer from Tony who was a bit of a chauvinist, ‘I’ve bought her a belt and a bag.’
‘That was very kind of you,’ Jim added, ‘I hope she appreciated the thought.’
Tony smiled as he replied, ‘So do I, and hopefully the vacuum cleaner will work now.’
You Define Your Paradise! February 11th, 2011
In a little village in coastal Mexico, a vacationing businessman sat watching the small boat glide quietly to its dock. It was mid- morning and pleasantly warm.
“Any luck?’, he queried the solitary captain. “Si, Amigo, the fishing it is very good here, and so it has been a fine day for me” said the man.
“How many more times will you go out today?”
“No more- just this one time, Senor… I have caught my fish. Now I will sell them, go home to have lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep. Tomorrow morning I will be up early to do all this again. It is always so”.
“But if you go back out today you will have more fish to sell. You will make more money and could hire men to help you fish. Soon, you could buy another fishing boat, then more fishing boats until you have a fleet and many workers. You could have boats out all day long and even at night. You could become very rich!”
“And so, I would have much money to spend in any way I wanted, yes? I could then do anything I wanted to do?”
“Yes, now you understand! Anything you wanted to do!”
“Ah then, amigo, I would choose to be home for lunch with my family, play with my dog, play with my children, play with my wife, enjoy a good sleep…”
The Rest Of The Story . . . November 10th, 2010
He was too young to fight in World War II, even though the desire to tackle fascism was strong within him. He had witnessed the horrible bombing of London before being uprooted to safety.
So it was natural when, upon returning to England, he was outraged to find hate and fascism alive on the streets of London. Barely 17, he joined the “43 Group”, named after 43 servicemen returning from the war and unwilling to allow such a threat to go unchecked.
His parents insisted he “find a trade” so he apprenticed himself to a local professional and spent his days learning how to earn a living, and his nights learning how to fight for his beliefs. He soon developed a “rep” as a willing and able warrior- one to “ride the river with” to borrow a phrase.
He found fighting for his principles to be harsh and brutal. It was also up close and personal, and he frequently arrived for his apprenticeship training bruised and bleeding. However, never one to abandon his responsibilities, he stuck with both.
Finally he finished his apprenticeship, and the 43 Group, feeling it had accomplished its mission, disbanded. No one from that Group ever questioned his courage.
He was gifted with a host of other admirable traits, one being a quick sense of humor. When a wide-eyed customer asked him how he had come to look so beat-up and bloody, he reportedly replied “Oh, it’s nothing- I just tripped over a hair pin”.
You may know of him- his name is Vidal Sassoon, one of the greatest hairdressers ever!
He was too young to fight in World War II, even though the desire to tackle fascism was strong within him. He had witnessed the horrible bombing of London before being uprooted to safety.
So it was natural when, upon returning to England, he was outraged to find hate and fascism alive on the streets of London. Barely 17, he joined the “43 Group”, named after 43 servicemen returning from the war and unwilling to allow such a threat to go unchecked.
His parents insisted he “find a trade” so he apprenticed himself to a local professional and spent his days learning how to earn a living, and his nights learning how to fight for his beliefs. He soon developed a “rep” as a willing and able warrior- one to “ride the river with” to borrow a phrase.
He found fighting for his principles to be harsh and brutal. It was also up close and personal, and he frequently arrived for his apprenticeship training bruised and bleeding. However, never one to abandon his responsibilities, he stuck with both.
Finally he finished his apprenticeship, and the 43 Group, feeling it had accomplished its mission, disbanded. No one from that Group ever questioned his courage.
He was gifted with a host of other admirable traits, one being a quick sense of humor. When a wide-eyed customer asked him how he had come to look so beat-up and bloody, he reportedly replied “Oh, it’s nothing- I just tripped over a hair pin”.
You may know of him- his name is Vidal Sassoon, one of the greatest hairdressers ever!
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