Visiting with a friend today, I learned that a local community pool has to close for a few weeks to correct a spring painting mistake—the painters forgot to mix the necessary granules into the paint, which prevents slippage. As a result—you guessed it—not only have several people fallen around the pool, but a few days ago a young boy fell and suffered a serious head injury. Now they have to drain the pool, repaint it, wait for it to dry, and fill it back up before reopening to the public, including many disappointed season pass holders.
Certainly, we all make mistakes, but my friend and I continued discussing the inexcusability of this one. After all, weren’t these professional painters? Hadn’t they painted pools before? Wasn’t there an inspection before filling the pool? Before opening the pool to the public, didn’t the life guards notice the safety issue as they walked the deck? All along the way, it seems that several of these different types of employees would have caught this problem based on their own training and knowledge that is a part of doing their jobs—their “non-negotiables,” if you will.
Although varied from one job description to another, we all have non-negotiables, and the rest of us outside each other’s jobs have to trust numerous people throughout our lives to know and carry out their non-negotiables. For example, as an English teacher, my non-negotiables include knowing and communicating in Standard English grammar, as well as understanding the basics of language, if for no other reason than if students can’t trust me to model language for them, they may not have that learning opportunity from anyone else. For the math teacher, details of language is a nice-to-know skill—just as math properties would be for me—as speaking “correct” English is not necessarily a non-negotiable to teach math effectively. (Granted, in my ideal world, everyone should possess the skills of language, but sometimes I have to get over myself in this area.)
In other career fields, a minister’s non-negotiable is to know the Bible; an accountant, the tax laws; an architect, building codes; a referee, the rules of the game; a doctor, the human anatomy; a travel agent, hotel accommodations and tourist attractions; a farmer, fertilizer; an air traffic controller, flight patterns; a restaurant worker, sanitation guidelines, and on and on. And I’m certainly hoping that the plumber who’s coming tomorrow to replace a toilet in my house knows the fine details of pipe mechanics! (There’s probably a better term for this, but I don’t really need to know it.)
I just finished reading Your Inner Fish, a fascinating book on evolution—totally outside my usual reading habits, but because I’ve developed an interest in science the last few years, I thought I’d give it a try. At the same time, one of the reasons I enjoyed it so much is because the information is a “nice-to-know” for me; no one expects me to be an expert on this subject. Another book on my summer reading list, however, is The Pun Also Rises—back to reinforcing my English teacher “non-negotiables.”
What are your non-negotiables?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Let's Just Be Honest
Like so many people—but not enough—I just don’t understand why people can’t be honest! Why is it so hard? In the words of Mark Twain, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” In essence, being honest can eliminate a lot of stress and save a lot of time.
Representative Anthony Weiner is just the latest in a long string of politicians who thought he wouldn’t be found out. Before him, just to name a few, are John Edwards, Larry Craig, and Bill Clinton, who all denied the facts only to have to admit the truth later. When will people learn that in this age of technology and scrutinizing media, they might as well admit the truth from the start, humbly apologize—assuming they’re actually sorry or they’ll be committing another lie—and let us get on with the important things in the world.
As to Representative Weiner, he probably didn’t do anything that many other people haven’t done, childish though it is, with the convenience of a camera in almost everyone’s cell phone. Stupid and disappointing? Yes. Particularly since he’s supposed to be a role model for the rest of us, but his action wasn’t unique and probably not rare. The only ones to benefit from his embarrassing act were the comedians ready to make use of every punning opportunity they could muster. (Thank you Stephen Colbert for the “Treat Meat”!)
Once again, however, I am just as disappointed in the media for trying to make it newsworthy. I truly can’t imagine CNN’s Wolf Blitzer proud of dedicating even one second of his journalistic skills to interviewing the congressman. I want to believe Blitzer’s boss forced him to hold up the Tweeted photo during the interview. After Wolf’s coverage of the first few hours of the Persian Gulf War, surely he has no expectations of winning a Walter Cronkite Award for the Weiner interview. Wolf, you really lost some journalistic dignity on this one.
But back to the point…why is it so hard to be honest? Using superlatives is dangerous, but I truly can’t think of anything I value more than honesty. Whether in my personal or professional life, I’ve learned it’s always better to fess up to my blunders—purposeful or not—and get on with the tasks at hand, and I’ll admit that there have been times in my life when crow was a staple at my dinner table. There’s enough drama in the world without extending it by deceivingly thinking the truth WON’T out. It WILL! I can’t help but think that more relationships are weakened by holding onto a lie rather than admitting the truth and asking for forgiveness. And when we find it hard to forgive someone for admitting to stupid mistakes, just think of the last one you made. For me, I wouldn’t have to think back that far.
Representative Anthony Weiner is just the latest in a long string of politicians who thought he wouldn’t be found out. Before him, just to name a few, are John Edwards, Larry Craig, and Bill Clinton, who all denied the facts only to have to admit the truth later. When will people learn that in this age of technology and scrutinizing media, they might as well admit the truth from the start, humbly apologize—assuming they’re actually sorry or they’ll be committing another lie—and let us get on with the important things in the world.
As to Representative Weiner, he probably didn’t do anything that many other people haven’t done, childish though it is, with the convenience of a camera in almost everyone’s cell phone. Stupid and disappointing? Yes. Particularly since he’s supposed to be a role model for the rest of us, but his action wasn’t unique and probably not rare. The only ones to benefit from his embarrassing act were the comedians ready to make use of every punning opportunity they could muster. (Thank you Stephen Colbert for the “Treat Meat”!)
Once again, however, I am just as disappointed in the media for trying to make it newsworthy. I truly can’t imagine CNN’s Wolf Blitzer proud of dedicating even one second of his journalistic skills to interviewing the congressman. I want to believe Blitzer’s boss forced him to hold up the Tweeted photo during the interview. After Wolf’s coverage of the first few hours of the Persian Gulf War, surely he has no expectations of winning a Walter Cronkite Award for the Weiner interview. Wolf, you really lost some journalistic dignity on this one.
But back to the point…why is it so hard to be honest? Using superlatives is dangerous, but I truly can’t think of anything I value more than honesty. Whether in my personal or professional life, I’ve learned it’s always better to fess up to my blunders—purposeful or not—and get on with the tasks at hand, and I’ll admit that there have been times in my life when crow was a staple at my dinner table. There’s enough drama in the world without extending it by deceivingly thinking the truth WON’T out. It WILL! I can’t help but think that more relationships are weakened by holding onto a lie rather than admitting the truth and asking for forgiveness. And when we find it hard to forgive someone for admitting to stupid mistakes, just think of the last one you made. For me, I wouldn’t have to think back that far.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Anniversary of Mother's Death
Today marks the 17th anniversary of my mother's death. Of course, I think about the date each February 15, but I believe this is the first year since that day that her anniversary, like her death, falls on a Monday. The details of that weekend are still so clear to me....
Jack, Eric, and I were already awake and just about to leave the house for a swim meet in Emporia when my sister Jan called me before 6 a.m. on Saturday morning to let me know that Mother had slipped into a coma. Certainly, I was prepared to give total responsibility to Jack for getting Eric to Emporia, but Jan said not to bother--that there was no way I would make it in time. So off to Emporia I went, calling every hour to check on things. With each call, I learned that Mother was still hanging in there so on the way home I told Jack that if Mother were still alive when we got back home to Ottawa, I was packing and going. In his usual controlling way, Jack laid a guilt trip on me and came very close to demanding I not make the trip--after all, the next day was Valentine's Day and I should be home to celebrate. For once, my priorities took hold so I packed and was off to Bartlesville.
When I arrived, Mother was still comatose, but miraculously when I said loudly, "Mother, I'm here," for the briefest moment she opened her eyes. She knew, and regardless of what else happened, I knew in my heart and soul that I had made the right decision to make the trip.
My brother also arrived from Colorado so the rest of the weekend Pat, Jan, and I sat at Mother's bedside and talked to her and talked to each other. I'm sure we were like all other children in this situation as we reminisced, bringing laughter and tears, but Mother kept hanging on, and my mindset was that she could probably hear everything we said.
The minister came on Sunday to counsel us, at which point he suggested that we each take a turn alone with her to tell her goodbye and give her permission to go. I can't imagine a more private ceremony. I have no idea what Jan and Pat said to her, but when it was my turn, I held her hand and told her how much I loved her and what a great mom she had been. After all, she had had me when she was 47, so her gift of my life was beyond most blessings. I told her I didn't want her to suffer and that she would soon be so happy seeing Daddy, her parents, and all her siblings.
Sunday night the nurse suggested that we go to Jan's and get some sleep--that she would call us if/when Mother's death was immanent. The call awakened us early on Monday morning so we readied ourselves for the inevitable. As we left for the hospital, it began to snow--not just a dusting but huge amounts of wet, heavy snow that beautifully blanketed the trees and grounds soon making it difficult for any type of travel. Symbolically, the day was perfect. When we arrived at Mother's bedside, I even tried to describe the snow-ladened scene to Mother, again giving her permission to slip into her afterlife.
Mother passed away at 2:20 p.m. Upon her last gasping breath, I was holding her hand, a painful yet beautiful memory that I wouldn't have missed for the world. Unlike her own mother, she didn't live to be 100 but left us at the age of 88, again, very symbolic for a college piano major.
Today, I celebrate the 41 years that she and I spent together--not enough--but she continues to be a part of me each day.
I love you and miss you, Mother!
Jack, Eric, and I were already awake and just about to leave the house for a swim meet in Emporia when my sister Jan called me before 6 a.m. on Saturday morning to let me know that Mother had slipped into a coma. Certainly, I was prepared to give total responsibility to Jack for getting Eric to Emporia, but Jan said not to bother--that there was no way I would make it in time. So off to Emporia I went, calling every hour to check on things. With each call, I learned that Mother was still hanging in there so on the way home I told Jack that if Mother were still alive when we got back home to Ottawa, I was packing and going. In his usual controlling way, Jack laid a guilt trip on me and came very close to demanding I not make the trip--after all, the next day was Valentine's Day and I should be home to celebrate. For once, my priorities took hold so I packed and was off to Bartlesville.
When I arrived, Mother was still comatose, but miraculously when I said loudly, "Mother, I'm here," for the briefest moment she opened her eyes. She knew, and regardless of what else happened, I knew in my heart and soul that I had made the right decision to make the trip.
My brother also arrived from Colorado so the rest of the weekend Pat, Jan, and I sat at Mother's bedside and talked to her and talked to each other. I'm sure we were like all other children in this situation as we reminisced, bringing laughter and tears, but Mother kept hanging on, and my mindset was that she could probably hear everything we said.
The minister came on Sunday to counsel us, at which point he suggested that we each take a turn alone with her to tell her goodbye and give her permission to go. I can't imagine a more private ceremony. I have no idea what Jan and Pat said to her, but when it was my turn, I held her hand and told her how much I loved her and what a great mom she had been. After all, she had had me when she was 47, so her gift of my life was beyond most blessings. I told her I didn't want her to suffer and that she would soon be so happy seeing Daddy, her parents, and all her siblings.
Sunday night the nurse suggested that we go to Jan's and get some sleep--that she would call us if/when Mother's death was immanent. The call awakened us early on Monday morning so we readied ourselves for the inevitable. As we left for the hospital, it began to snow--not just a dusting but huge amounts of wet, heavy snow that beautifully blanketed the trees and grounds soon making it difficult for any type of travel. Symbolically, the day was perfect. When we arrived at Mother's bedside, I even tried to describe the snow-ladened scene to Mother, again giving her permission to slip into her afterlife.
Mother passed away at 2:20 p.m. Upon her last gasping breath, I was holding her hand, a painful yet beautiful memory that I wouldn't have missed for the world. Unlike her own mother, she didn't live to be 100 but left us at the age of 88, again, very symbolic for a college piano major.
Today, I celebrate the 41 years that she and I spent together--not enough--but she continues to be a part of me each day.
I love you and miss you, Mother!
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year's Tradition
One of my favorite activities on New Year's Day is to change out all my calendars--and because I'm quite a fanatic about calendars, I have quite a few. This year, however, I tried to be a bit more discerning, as last year I made some bad choices, such as the Zen calendar and some "butter my biscuit" hilbilly expressions. What was I thinking?
For 2010, in my home office, I have two: 1) My Samantha calendar, which I put together through the Kodak Gallery from pictures I take of my granddaughter throughout the previous year--each picture matching an event during that same month in 2008; January 2009 is a picture of her sledding down our neighbor's hill--just before she crashed into the sticker bush in our front yard-- and 2) a literary calendar, with each day summarizing a book--some I've heard of but most I have not; occasionally, I find one to order for myself or a family member; January 1 entry is Microtrends: The Small Forces behind Tomorrow's Big Changes--definitely not a book fitting my interests.
I have two dog calendars--one in my bathroom and one in my family room--nothing to read, just pictures of mostly darling canines. In fact, I save the pictures I really like and put them in a special dog box (it has a picture of a Siberian husky on it). Already planning on my eyesight going down hill as I ease into old age and senility, I figure people can just hand me the dog box while I'm strapped into my wheel chair in the nursing home, and I can spend the day smiling at those canine cuties! I also have a third dog calendar of Dachsunds--the family recording calendar--that I hang on the side of the refrigerator. Adding to the New Year tradition is the New Year's Eve tradition of recording all the important family birthdates and anniversaries on that calendar, along with upcoming dates of meetings.
After a year off, I've placed a Mary Englebreit calendar in our spare bathroom. I love her illustrations and humorous and inspirational expressions; plus, since Samantha uses that bathroom, I figure she can enjoy that calendar, as well.
My new find is a Seize the Day calendar I placed on my dresser. My hope is that its colorful, often floral, designs and uplifting expressions will inspire me to smile early in the morning when I'm struggling to put my eyeliner on straight.
Finally, for me, for the second year in a row for my office, I have a mini-wall sunflower calendar--I suppose being influenced by my Kansas heritage. Though I've tried every summer, I can't grow them, so I can at least enjoy looking at them on the wall!
Then, of course, are all the calendars I gave as Christmas gifts: for son Jeff, The History calendar; for his wife Wendy, The Science Quiz calendar; for son Eric, the NASA Space Shuttle and Family Guy calendars; for husband Jim, The New Yorker calendar, a railroad calendar, and a train trivia calendar; for my sister Jan, a sisters calendar and a dog calendar; and for Samantha, her first wall calendar of princesses. (She and I had a great time recording family birthdays.) I also gave Samantha calendars to four of Samantha's relatives and numerous other calendars to bosses and colleagues at work.
Yes, I'm a fanatic about calendars, and after writing this, I don't want to think of how much I spent on them. I just know that each day/month I look forward to turning the page.
For 2010, in my home office, I have two: 1) My Samantha calendar, which I put together through the Kodak Gallery from pictures I take of my granddaughter throughout the previous year--each picture matching an event during that same month in 2008; January 2009 is a picture of her sledding down our neighbor's hill--just before she crashed into the sticker bush in our front yard-- and 2) a literary calendar, with each day summarizing a book--some I've heard of but most I have not; occasionally, I find one to order for myself or a family member; January 1 entry is Microtrends: The Small Forces behind Tomorrow's Big Changes--definitely not a book fitting my interests.
I have two dog calendars--one in my bathroom and one in my family room--nothing to read, just pictures of mostly darling canines. In fact, I save the pictures I really like and put them in a special dog box (it has a picture of a Siberian husky on it). Already planning on my eyesight going down hill as I ease into old age and senility, I figure people can just hand me the dog box while I'm strapped into my wheel chair in the nursing home, and I can spend the day smiling at those canine cuties! I also have a third dog calendar of Dachsunds--the family recording calendar--that I hang on the side of the refrigerator. Adding to the New Year tradition is the New Year's Eve tradition of recording all the important family birthdates and anniversaries on that calendar, along with upcoming dates of meetings.
After a year off, I've placed a Mary Englebreit calendar in our spare bathroom. I love her illustrations and humorous and inspirational expressions; plus, since Samantha uses that bathroom, I figure she can enjoy that calendar, as well.
My new find is a Seize the Day calendar I placed on my dresser. My hope is that its colorful, often floral, designs and uplifting expressions will inspire me to smile early in the morning when I'm struggling to put my eyeliner on straight.
Finally, for me, for the second year in a row for my office, I have a mini-wall sunflower calendar--I suppose being influenced by my Kansas heritage. Though I've tried every summer, I can't grow them, so I can at least enjoy looking at them on the wall!
Then, of course, are all the calendars I gave as Christmas gifts: for son Jeff, The History calendar; for his wife Wendy, The Science Quiz calendar; for son Eric, the NASA Space Shuttle and Family Guy calendars; for husband Jim, The New Yorker calendar, a railroad calendar, and a train trivia calendar; for my sister Jan, a sisters calendar and a dog calendar; and for Samantha, her first wall calendar of princesses. (She and I had a great time recording family birthdays.) I also gave Samantha calendars to four of Samantha's relatives and numerous other calendars to bosses and colleagues at work.
Yes, I'm a fanatic about calendars, and after writing this, I don't want to think of how much I spent on them. I just know that each day/month I look forward to turning the page.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Getting Started
As I look out my window to the east too early on a Saturday morning to be awake, I contemplate how my life is about to change in 2010. Although retiring just before my 59th birthday is a bit frightening, I couldn't be more exited about starting my to-do list of all those things I've put off the past several years.
At the top of the list is to write! Not sure who my audience will be, other than myself, nor am I sure I have it in me to write anything worth anyone else's time, but, who knows, this could lead to something more important than it being all about me. I hope so! I just hope I can recapture all those previous thoughts beginning with, Oh! I could write about this--or that! Unfortunately, successfully teaching creative writing for over 15 years, I didn't practice what I preach by keeping a list of all the topics inside me waiting to spill onto the page.
For today, I'm looking forward to celebrating my 12th anniversary--on the 12th day of the 12th month--with my soul mate. Jim continues to treat me better than I deserve to be treated.
If anyone does read this, please forgive me for the obvious simplicity of this first post. Again, I'm just getting started.
At the top of the list is to write! Not sure who my audience will be, other than myself, nor am I sure I have it in me to write anything worth anyone else's time, but, who knows, this could lead to something more important than it being all about me. I hope so! I just hope I can recapture all those previous thoughts beginning with, Oh! I could write about this--or that! Unfortunately, successfully teaching creative writing for over 15 years, I didn't practice what I preach by keeping a list of all the topics inside me waiting to spill onto the page.
For today, I'm looking forward to celebrating my 12th anniversary--on the 12th day of the 12th month--with my soul mate. Jim continues to treat me better than I deserve to be treated.
If anyone does read this, please forgive me for the obvious simplicity of this first post. Again, I'm just getting started.
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