Looking out my window...

Time Marches On...@ The Speed of The Internet

This is for everyone who 1) is not a computer nerd or, 2) is one of my grandchildren (the oldest is currently 17):

 I found the above video on Roger Ebert's Twitter. Thank you Roger.

 

"Remember when" has a whole new meaning these days. "Back in the day" use to mean, oh, maybe a generation ago. Okay, the above video is only 17 years old. And, these are not "hill people" but savvy New York journalists.

Guess what? Time is moving even faster now. It's kinda like living in a time machine...only you can't go backward...yet. 

Twas A Time When I...

I started to tweet on twitter when I discovered that my hero Roger Ebert is a tweeter extraordinaire. Well, actually, I "read" twitter. And I still basically "read" twitter as I follow several people that I enjoy. Some people are just so clever, smart, talented, meaningful, snarky, funny, sad, neurotic but lovable...well you get my drift. You can throw me into any of those categories or make up your own category for me. I do tweet, but limited to a comment, mostly, here and there. Unless I'm mad about something!

The video below was tweeted by Roger. He always gives his best. I'd never heard of this group, but I may be culturally deprived. It does that thing I like so much...quietly...very slowly....drawing you...in...until you... say..."Oh!".

I hope you enjoy.

 

I once played the ukulele. Started with the little one and eventually went to the alto (slightly larger and deeper). I also played the guitar. My dad basically taught me how to play folk songs and such. I played and sang almost 200 folk songs by heart. I even took classical guitar lessons for a couple of months. I was branching out from playing classical piano. I really enjoyed my music. I could play and I could sing. Now I try to sing something and my voice goes all wobbly. After eight years of  piano lessons, even a semester in college, I basically just stopped. I couldn't play the guitar now, my hands wouldn't work.

Looking back, there were so many different things I've done in my life. Some intensely done. Some not. But after stopping one thing, something else will take its place. Not on purpose, you understand, but it just happens. I come from a talented family and I probably couldn't live long enough to "let out" all those talents. But, they are there waiting.

Waiting for me to discover them...do them...and move on. 

Bridge Over Troubled Water

 
Drainage Pipe Photo found on internet.

Are you afraid of something? I mean like a phobia of a specific thing? Do you remember how you found out you were afraid? One horrible winter day, when I was in my very early teens, I had an experience I will never forget.

My girlfriend and I decided to take a walk from the older side of town to a new addition that was being built. In between the two locations was a vast wild field. A small creek flowed through the meadow, although we did not know it at the time. "Cuz this was an adventure!"

There was about six inches of snow over the ground, blown away in some parts, with high drifts in others. Even so, do you think we wore boots? Ha! Never on your tintype. As we walked along, our feet would sometimes break through a crust of ice between the snow and the ground, and our shoes would get wet from the melting ice beneath. The walking was hard work and it would take a bit of time to get to our destination.

About three-quarters of the way we finally came upon the creek. Now that I think of it, it was probably a drainage ditch rather than a creek. But, creek sounds better for the story. It was about 20 feet across with an immediate drop to about four feet below. The water was frozen.

We would never have dared to walk across it, knowing that the ice would probably break. But, we were in luck. There was a huge cement pipe coming out of the ground, going across the ditch, and entering the ground on the other side. It was a huge pipe, maybe four to five feet in diameter, making it easy peasy to cross. Aha, a bridge!!!

My friend went first. Not slowly, but carefully, as I watched. Okeedookee, my turn. I took a few steps and got out almost to the middle when I looked down. I don't know what happened to me, but I couldn't move any further. My friend yelled at me to "come on." But, I was frozen in place. "I can't!" I yelled back.

And, I couldn't. Standing there, my two feet secured themselves on the cement pipe, my arms out to my side like a circus tight rope walker. Nope, those feet weren't about to go anywhere. I think I was in a state of mortal fear. "Walk!" she said. "I can't move!" I answered.

And, there we were. But, where was superman when I needed him. "Go baaaack!" she said. "I can't move!" I answered. I couldn't even move my head. I was like one of those wax figures in Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.

Time stood still.

I was frantically thinking I had to do something. But, what? I finally decided to lower myself down on the pipe so I would be straddling it, rather than standing. "Good, crawl over to me!" she said. "No, I can't!"

I ended up butt walking, more or less, backwards to the beginning of the pipe and was able to crawl onto the ground. I could breathe once more.

I had been terrified, helpless and cold. I couldn't feel my feet anymore. My face was covered with frozen tears. I needed my mommy.

My parents weren't home that day. Fortunately, the minister of my church lived close by. We stopped there. I told my sad story through more tears. Telling him that my feet were frozen and I feared frostbite. He and his wife took care of me very tenderly and seriously. Just the right combination for dealing with a young teenager: I felt loved and I was being taken seriously.

So, that's my story about discovering I was afraid of heights. Well, not exactly heights. Just anything above ground level. Even today, if I am going down or up stairs, I suffer from vertigo. And, don't even ask me about driving in the mountains!

My regret is, I never had an opportunity to tell Alfred Hitchcock my story. I think it would have made a good movie.

Oh, and what brought all this to mind is a video that my dear Roger Ebert had on his blog. Hold on and enjoy.

 

George Carlin Interview: He Spoke And I Heard

Everyone has favorites.

I have them, too. Here are a few of my favorite people quotes:

George Carlin: "Think off-center."

Roger Ebert: "The Muse visits while you are writing, not before."

Ernest Hemingway via Roger Ebert: "Isn't it pretty to think so."

That's sufficient for the moment. The video clip below is delightful. Not only is George Carlin being interviewed, he is being interviewed by a recent new favorite of mine Jon Stewart.

The clip is over 10 years old and they both look younger. But, I was amazed at how cute Jon looked. I'm going to write him and suggest he dye his hair and re-create that wonderful curl dangling down on his forehead... just as soon as I finish this.

I hope you enjoy the video. If not, oh well then, I have led you astray.

   

Birds of A Feather Flock Together

  Finches at Feeder Photo by Sharon

You'd think by looking at this picture the finches were starving to death. Let me assure you they are not, as they feed like this several times a day. I haven't as yet been able to photograph the "waiting line" on our fence. I shall keep on trying.

I think it's due to these little rascals the mighty cardinals have yet to return to us. Too crowded, especially when there are so many other feeders close by. We still enjoy listening to their songs.

 

Dream A Little Dream with Me

Last night I had a very long dream, or so it seemed. I don't remember it all, nor the details. What I do remember is the Chief and I kept running to different places trying to hide from someone whose goal seemed to be to harm or kill us. No matter how clever we were... we were found.

When I told the Chief about it I paused and said "maybe it was the grandchildren?" And we laughed.  We love them so much.

 

OTC* Laughter

I've written about laughter and humor before. I think it is the one thing that keeps me going. It gets my adrenalin and endorphins jumping.

Recently, on Face Book, a woman contacted me saying she had read my blog when she was feeling sad and it made her happy. Wow. It turns out we have so much in common it's freaky. I mean how we think, how we choose to be happy when that is not life's intention. We both like Lady Gaga (laugh if you want), the Coffee Party (as opposed to Tea Party) and Dexter (okay, so he's a serial killer), to name a few. She is an artist and her work makes me smile. She called me, yes meeee... a word smith!  Holy cow!

Now my mom might say those things (she however doesn't like Lady Gaga) but a complete stranger with no ties or reason to tell me this. What a wonderful gift to give someone. It's sorta like the "random act of kindness" thingy. Any way, I'm so grateful to her for letting me know that my writing touched someone in a meaningful way.

And this reminds me of Roger Ebert, one of my idols. I've loved him since the 60's. This last year has not been the best for me. Fibromyalgia is a nasty thing. Not, however, as bad a trial as Roger has been through. The thing is, I think we both approached our change in life style in a somewhat similar manner: Look at what has happen. Find how limitations can be turned around. Refuse to be miserable. Mandate life be enjoyed. And laugh your heart out.

No, I don't go outside much. No, I haven't gone to things I use to. My life changed. But, one day I thought about blogging. And if you look at my first few blogs, you'll see I didn't have a clue what I was doing. As it is now, it seems to have turned into a conversation with myself and anyone who wants to listen.

And, what brought me to this blog was a retweet from Roger Ebert:

TheSocialBrain Compelling evidence that smiling leads to physiological changes in the brain that cool blood+trigger happy feelings. http://alturl.com/25bdn Retweeted by ebertchicago and 100+ others:

Smiling Makes You Happy
Bob Sutton's Blog "Work Matters" 

Gretchen over at The Happiness Project had a lovely and thoughtful post yesterday called smile, smile, smile.  She ended the post by saying: "And apart from its effect on my dealings with other people, smiling makes me feelhappier. Actions trigger feelings, so by going through the motions of feeling happier, I change my mood. Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”'

And here is a Video with Laughing John Cleese

And another from the Yogi himself

 

And, finally...Never take yourself too seriously...

 

 

*OTC means medicines that are Over The Counter  - no prescription needed

Prescott Arizona: For My Mother

How do they get to be that way?

By

Roger Ebert

on June 6, 2010 10:23 AM

 

 How would I feel if I were a brown student at Miller Valley Elementary School in Prescott, Arizona? A mural was created to depict some of the actual students in the school.

 

Lets say I was one of the lucky ones. The mural took shape, and as my face became recognizable, I took some kidding from my classmates and a smile from a pretty girl I liked.

 

 

My parents even came over one day to have a look and take some photos to e-mail to the family. The mural was shown on TV, and everybody could see that it was me.

 

Then a City Councilman named Steve Blair went on his local radio talk show and made some comments about the mural. I didn't hear him, but I can guess what he said. My dad says it's open season on brown people in this state. Anyway, for two months white people drove past in their cars and screamed angry words out the window before hurrying away. And the artists got back up on their scaffold and started making my face whiter.

We went over to my grandparent's house, and my grandmother cried and told me, "I prayed that was ending in my lifetime." Then there was more news: The City Councilman was fired from his radio show, the Superintendent of Schools climbed up on the scaffold with a bullhorn and apologized for the bad decision, and I guess the artists went back up and started making my skin darker again, but I didn't go to see, because I never wanted to go near that bullshit mural again.

The above is from a Journal entry by Roger Ebert. He went on to describe how he grew up in Champaign-Urbana Illinois pre integration in the South's schools. After reading it I replied to him:

By Sharon W Jensen on June 6, 2010 12:30 PM

"Roger, once again you've written from the heart. I am so glad Prescott is keeping the mural as intended. But your own thoughts of what the child might feel was shattering. And, to me, makes the point that the deed was done. Yes, reversed, but done. The pain from the first response still overshadows the corrected. My heart cries."

My mom used to live in Arizona. About 60 minutes from Prescott. Wonderful town, we visited it more than once. It had a very nice "feel" to it. Diversified, yes. Western, yes. So it came as a big surprise that this particular town would have such a racial conflict occur.

Every place has haters and racists. Every place. Some places you have to look for it.  But, you don't have to look very deep to see it, hear it, feel it. Sadly, it lies close, under the surface.

My mom and dad were both involved with the civil rights movement in the 60's. My belief that we are all one, belonging to each other, despite the differences, was strengthen by them. I shall love them forever for giving me that gift. That "amazing grace."

In high school, in sociology class, I wrote a speech about the integration of the town I lived in. I told of the rumors, and dispelled them. I knew what was true and not true because my mom and dad had been strongly involved with that integration, along with several other Unitarians. Finishing my speech, I walked back to my seat hearing whispers. The whisper that was the loudest was "she must be part nigger." I never did anything to challenge that misconception. I was okay with it.

And so, the hardest part of the Prescott story, to me, is not that a racist bigot complained about the mural, and hurled racist slurs, encouraging others to do the same, but that the school board listened to him and was ready to change the mural, was changing the mural. They changed their mind after their decision to whiten up the place. That was hurtful. The young man whose picture was being lightened saw the true meaning and depth of the racism. It wasn't just one or two people. It was the school board. And if it was the school board...who else?

Prissy: Lawzy, we got to have a doctor. I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies.

  Baby Robin on Fence

After losing my managerial position at the hospital, I finally found a place to work downtown. The Office Manager interviewed me. I liked her immediately. A kinship was formed. A few months after being hired I told her that I thought we had to be sisters separated at birth. She agreed. We laughed.

I'm caucasian and she is african-american. So what. We were both women of a certain age and working.  We had a wonderful time working with each other, her being my "boss" wasn't a problem for us. We laughed at the same things, remembered the same things. We could finish each other's sentences. It was one of my most delightful working experiences. No, it was one of my most delightful experiences, period. Someone could say something in front of us and we'd just look at each other and "knew." We were, however, professionals, so most of the time we wouldn't laugh, out loud.

Then I got laid off. This was the second time within a few years. And I know why (I was older. made more money than others and the zinger was I had been diagnosed with cancer a few months earlier.) I could have sued. I didn't. My family isn't of that nature.

It took me six months before I found another job. Which, by the way, turned into my favorite two years of working my whole life. While in training by my predecessor, who was perhaps 20 years old, I became so confused I could hardly stand it. She was talking a mile a minute, and my "old but wise" brain was having difficulty following her. I could take all the blame, but sadly her communication skills were nil, so it was like trying to translate what she was saying into something I could understand.

Any how, forgetting where I was, all of a sudden I said quite animatedly "Lawdy, Lawdy Miss Scarlet! I don't know nothing about birthing no babies!" Please note the title of this blog is the actual and correct quote, but oh well, close enough.

She stopped and looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Oh, dear, I thought. The pause was pregnant. The pause was pregnant for what seemed like 9 months. So, I said: Oh, I was quoting from a movie. Have you heard it before? She said: no. I said: You know, "Gone With The Wind?" She said: no.

Where or where was my sister separated at birth when I needed her most?

A day later we were having lunch with two other gals when I asked her: So, what was it that made him decide to hire me? She said: Well, he asked me who did I think should he hire, and I said I think the older woman was interesting. And he said: Oh, the one who wrote about the forest and trees!

So, that's how I got the job. From one description of my abilities that said; I am able to see the forest and the trees.

I asked her, do you know what the phrase "Can't see the forest for the trees" means? I'll let you guess what her answer was.

Any way, what brought the Gone With The Wind quote to mind is the excerpt of article below, which I found on Roger Ebert's twitter.

Beep-beep-m beep-beep, yeah
By Jim Emerson on June 2, 2010 9:27 PM

Over Memorial Day weekend I attended a high school graduation in Albuquerque. One of the graduating senior boys gave a speech using car parts as a metaphor for the components of a personality or identity. It was a clever speech he'd co-written with a friend, delivered with wry humor. Afterwards, the head of the school -- a man I'd estimate was in his 60s -- took the stage and thanked the student, quipping: "Baby, you can drive my car anytime."

Thud. Thunderous silence mixed with scattered, bewildered titters.

The next night at a graduation party, the kid who'd given the speech was standing around with a few friends and the uncomfortable subject came up.

"What was that?" he said. "'Baby, you can drive my car?!?'"

"It was creepy," said one of the girls.

I piped in: "It was creepy -- because it was totally inappropriate and made no sense. Unless he was trying to seduce you. He was just making a Beatles reference."

"Oh!" exclaimed a couple of students.

"I didn't even think of that," said the boy. "But still, it was creepy."

It was probably even creepier for those of us who did recognize what the old guy was lamely attempting to invoke. These kids were 16 and 17, so naturally I felt a little... old having to mention what I'd thought was obvious, if still undeniably awkward. Then again, one of them had earlier quoted Taylor Swift (sarcastically) and I didn't get that, either.

Marisa and Flowers in Bloom

 Clematis in bloom with wild flowers appearing...through my window

The Clematis is one of my favorites. This particular one does very well where it is situated. Wild flowers were added a few years ago from a mix we bought while motoring to the West and back. The mix was quite varied, but as the years pass, the hardier ones start to take over. Okay with me. The yellow flowers were preceded by a smattering of white, shorter ones. The view changes daily, sometimes minutely, but changes. A few of the flowers that come up might be called "weeds" by some. Not by us. The types of flowers we buy to plant are designed to attract humming birds, finches and butterflies. Even so, I'm always pleasantly surprised when they actually show up.

Granddaughter Marisa 8th Grade Graduation

Marisa, my beautiful granddaughter, graduated from 8th grade this week. That means she will be a high school freshman in the Fall OMG! She is a fantastic young woman. A good student, loves and excels at softball, and is all heart when playing her trumpet. She has many friends, some of whom I am guessing are helped by her strength of self.

Photo from MS 

The day began with me having blood work done and getting my annual mammogram. I have to note how the medical field and its technology is changing. The blood work I had done, now only requires 1 medium size vial. I've been getting this test for 10 years or more and until the last few years it required about 7 large vials. So, yep, lab technology has become more sophisticated.

Because I have a history of Breast Cancer my mammogram is done at the women's cancer treatment center at my hospital. This means that as soon as the x-rays are taken, a radiologist is there to read them and give me the results immediately. What a difference that makes! Boy, let me tell you, once you've had a diagnosis of Breast CA any waiting time or repeated x-rays cause extreme anxiety. I might be smiling while waiting, but inside I'm saying "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh shit!" Everything was good. Loud cheering of joy is acceptable.

By the way, these tests were done at two different sites. What that means is I had to get in and out of the van twice. My fibromyalgia was acting up, so that made the process more difficult. But, because I'm tallish and we have a van, I figured out that I could pivot myself around on the seat and both feet could just touch the ground. Then I could stand on both legs at the same time while getting out. And the reverse for getting in without too much pain.

So much for a getting a small car.

*******************************************************************

I thought the following video was hilarious. But my sense of humor can be a bit weird at times. I'll tell you this: I know someone who would love to do it. Enough said. (I took this off Roger Ebert's twitter. He's weird, too.)

PEEPS

THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON PEEPS 

From Roger Ebert

...As We Know It

Okay, so last night, I paid to view the above film (2012) on cable. It had John Cusak in it and I love John Cusak. I love Sci-Fi. Good Sci-Fi and even some not so good Sci-Fi. I have yet to read my favorite critic's review (Roger Ebert). So, bravely I go forth with my opinion of the movie. THEN, I will read Roger's take on it.

First, let me tell you about my father. He was a very good man and also very good at scrabble. And very smart.

Back in the day, when families watched television together, sitting in front of the TV, someone usually sat close enough to the TV to manually change channels when needed...which actually has nothing to do with this blog. I guess it's scene setting. I remember the following:

We'd be watching a movie and all of a sudden my Dad would say something to the effect of "he's going to die" or "she's going to leave him" or "the guy in the glasses did it." In other words, he was foretelling what was going to happen. And, he was always right. When his prediction came true I'd say "Dad, how did you know that?" And he smiled.

After years of this, I finally told him "Don't do that! You're spoiling it!" He'd smile. Then one day I said to him "Dad how do you do that?" And, he smiled.

Then. once when I was a teenager,  I asked and he said "Honey, there's only so many endings." I thought about that. It's the kind of knowledge that comes with living, experiencing movies, and different plot formulas. It's almost like algebra.

And now, today, I'm doing the same thing he did. That is why I REALLY like a movie that I can't figure out. LOVE 'EM. "Memento" is a good example. Didn't have a clue. Had to watch it several times. Oh, and "Alien" the 1st ever woman hero! When the last cute guy was killed off, I was shocked!

So...the plot for "2012" is simple. The world is going to end. Someone is going to try to save it. Some will live, some will die. And in between a lot of special effects.

Could have been a good movie. Wasn't. By the end I was almost hysterical with internal laughter because it was so STUPID. It was stupid because of the writing.

Sample of dialog: old black (African American, Negro, Person of Color) man during last phone conversation with son.."Son, I love you...(no please, please don't say it)God knowz I dew!" OMG It's "Gone with The Wind."

Then, young scientist explaining to person of power "The world is ending, (no, no, no...OMG he said it) as we know it." Every scene, okay, maybe every other scene has this kind of dialog

Cusak is addicted to his laptop (probably likes to tweet, eh Roger?) It's the reason he and his wife divorced. He has more of a relationship with the laptop than his kids. Near the end of the movie he has his laptop in a shoulder bag (never without it) while trying to save someone. In his effort the laptop falls into eternity, he watches it, and then saves the man. Is the symbolism lost on anyone? UG!

Good special effects. NOT! These days, you expect the cgi's to be excellent and life like. The special effects in this movie looked like someone had watched all previous World Ending movies from the last 20 years, then cut and pasted them into this movie. Come on guys. Where's PhotoShop when you need it.

The disasters that befall our world don't stop. It's much like the tv commercials (as seen on tv) where you get 3 rags for a dollar, but wait there's more! They just keep coming.

And lastly, John Cusak. John, whatever possessed you to do this film! You're a good Chicago actor. Are you an idiot? You need the money that much? What!? As a fan, I'd like an explanation. How many "takes" were done before you could say your lines without bursting into laughter?

And, Woody! What were you thinking. You're weird enough without the facial hair and LSD tripping as you meet your Tsunami!

So...thumbs down on this one, or my new bad movie indicator: "Release the Kraken!"

Now, I'm going to go read Roger's review.

OMG! Roger gave it 3 1/2 Stars. Well, like I said in another blog, Roger and me have so much in common, we like the same movies.

Wait, I get it, it was a comedy. Okay then, I give it 3 stars. LOL