It may be downright un-American, it's probably contrary, and maybe even sacrilegious to admit this but I've never been a big fan of New Year's as a holiday.
To me, it's always seemed to be much ado about what is basically the act of buying a new calendar and turning to a fresh page. As Chris Farley once said in what is about my favorite comedy sketch of all time, about living in a van down by the river, "Well Whoop De Friggin' Do!"
To add insult to injury, New Years always seems to be the moment when I have to come down off my Christmas high and come back to reality with a bump. It means taking down the tree, packing away the Santa Snoopy that dances, my Nutcracker men, my favorite holly printed tablecloth, making sure the Baby Jesus and His Family are all tucked away in their special box...you get the picture.
I gave it a valiant effort last night. I stayed up, yes I occasionally 'listed' to one side of the couch and jerked awake again when I realized I was drifting. I unearthed the champagne flutes, the ones that are only used once a year and thus have to be rinsed and polished to get rid of the dust and that slight smell like cream rinse.
I endured the inane commentary of the cable news hosts who'd clearly had more than just 'a' glass of Asti Spumante.
Then came a whole segment on 'Resolutions'. And that tore it..my sore spot, the New Years' Resolution. I've always resented the whole concept of the New Year's resolution.
Amazingly though, I kept my resolution for 2013. And I completed it last night. I'd made it a goal to read the entire Bible in 2013 and in the final hours of 2013, I read the last chapter in Revelation.
It wasn't so much a resolution though, than a promise. A promise that I made to myself and to God.
And as I turned the last page, I realized that somewhere along the line, it quit being merely a resolution and it had become a habit, a way of living. A lifeline at the end of a day, a time set aside for just God and I.
There were days when I resented it, days where I admit I missed my readings completely and I would read like mad in the days that followed to make up for my lapses, days when the words were just that words on a page. I remember being angry sometimes because I thought it would be a life-changing experience and I didn't feel any different. I thought it would make me love people more, be more patient, less critical and judgmental. Hah!
If anything, I became more critical...watching the series "The Bible" on the History Channel last spring, I annoyed fellow watchers by constantly correcting the dialogue when and where they had taken certain artistic licenses, "Hey, so and so, didn't say that, actually it was...."
I remember becoming irrationally angry with the Israelites when reading the prophets in the Old Testament. Essentially, by about halfway through, I made the Pharisees look tame!
What I've actually learned most though, through this experience, in the final analysis... surprised me. The thing I most learned is... Hint: I still can't name all the prophets in order.
The answer is perseverance.
That when you fall down, get back up. That if God doesn't quit on me, "being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it" (Philippians 1:6), I shouldn't quit either on Him or on myself.
So in these days of 2014, I'll not make a resolution, but rather a promise to myself to persevere, in my job, (even on the days where nothing goes right), in my relationships, in my stewardship, in my health, and in my quest for happiness and for joy.
I wish nothing less for you as well.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Saturday, December 14, 2013
The Butterfly Effect
Surely you've heard of the butterfly effect...
It's the scientific theory that a single occurrence, no matter how small, can change the universe forever.
There was the ad some years back, a butterfly flapping it's wings sets off a chain of events that eventually results in a hurricane a continent and a ocean away.
I've been pondering this fact in my own life for more than a few days now.
Maybe it's because I'm a person who still believes in the magic of ordinary days or because I tend to look at the micro way more than the macro.
But something quite macro has just occurred in my life. Remember Non-Company-I-Work-For-But-Am-Not-Really-One-of-Them, well four (4) days ago, I became One-of-Them! My boss, the indomitable O'Malley managed the previously unthinkable task of turning a little under the radar contractor into a bona fide employee.
At first , inside me were emotions rivalling the Main Street Electrical Light Parade and Fourth of July Fireworks, but as it really began to sink in, and I remembered where I had started from, a strange mix of pensive solemnity and gratitude sobered me.
A little over two years ago, I began my assignment at Non-Company, as an angry, un-employed temp, so broke that I wore my sister in law's cast-off Ann Taylor two-piece to the interview and was sharing the use of a decrepit Toyota Corolla with my father. I hadn't had a car to myself since the George Bush Administration and I was worried that I wouldn't get the job, and worried that if I did, how I was going to manage to get there. The day before I'd interviewed for a high-paying job with a Financial Planning Firm that I really wanted, which would have solved all my problems and I was casual and offhand in the interview with Non-Company. I'd put everything into the interview with the Financial Planners the day before. I was devastated and angry when told they'd selected another candidate, literally 20 minutes after I got off the phone with the FP firm, Non-Company called and said they wanted me. I called my Mom and like the ungrateful brat that I was, whined and cried telling her that I was going to 'have to take' the job with Non-Company.
So where does the butterfly effect come in...
The car. My 1997 Mazda Miata.
My sister in law counseled my parents strongly against 'helping' me get a car. But they saw differently. I guess they still saw something in me, something worthy. Goodness knows, at the time I didn't.
I still have that Miata and I don't think any other vehicle will ever mean as much to me. So much changed with that car. In short my whole life. For some reason, the moment I began driving that vehicle, I let go of the past, I let go of the anger. I quit having panic attacks. For once I was living within my means, being the person that I was, no longer trying to cling to someone else's identity, to their values.
I was able to get to my job, do well, leave at the end of a day and not have to wait for my Dad to come get me in the ramshackle old Toyota. I can't even articulate the relief from stress and worry about transportation. My Dad freed from having to rush across town to pick me up, was able to get to his job and do well.
Some days ago, I found one of my prayer lists from approximately two (2) years ago and some bank statements. As I read this list and looked at the statements, I was so overcome by what I saw that I wept, for God has so specifically met exactly every need I laid out and looking at the statements, I saw tangibly how His hand was upon me. I was able to see that in times of want, and in times of plenty, He really has been right there with me all the time. When you are in your thirties and down to your last $100.00, you need to KNOW that He is with you.
So many times, I tried to leave Non-Company. I sent out resumes by the dozen. I interviewed. But it seemed like God closed every door. Every time I tried to leave, something or someone would stop me. And it looks like He was right. I think He was smiling at me on Wednesday, when I began my first official day, 'See, I always know best...'
The car led to the job, the job led me to humble myself and work hard, working hard led to notice from O'Malley and O'Malley led me to bona fide employee.
You just never know what effect a seemingly small thing you do for someone else will have on their life. Don't miss the opportunity..
The Butterfly Effect....
It's the scientific theory that a single occurrence, no matter how small, can change the universe forever.
There was the ad some years back, a butterfly flapping it's wings sets off a chain of events that eventually results in a hurricane a continent and a ocean away.
I've been pondering this fact in my own life for more than a few days now.
Maybe it's because I'm a person who still believes in the magic of ordinary days or because I tend to look at the micro way more than the macro.
But something quite macro has just occurred in my life. Remember Non-Company-I-Work-For-But-Am-Not-Really-One-of-Them, well four (4) days ago, I became One-of-Them! My boss, the indomitable O'Malley managed the previously unthinkable task of turning a little under the radar contractor into a bona fide employee.
At first , inside me were emotions rivalling the Main Street Electrical Light Parade and Fourth of July Fireworks, but as it really began to sink in, and I remembered where I had started from, a strange mix of pensive solemnity and gratitude sobered me.
A little over two years ago, I began my assignment at Non-Company, as an angry, un-employed temp, so broke that I wore my sister in law's cast-off Ann Taylor two-piece to the interview and was sharing the use of a decrepit Toyota Corolla with my father. I hadn't had a car to myself since the George Bush Administration and I was worried that I wouldn't get the job, and worried that if I did, how I was going to manage to get there. The day before I'd interviewed for a high-paying job with a Financial Planning Firm that I really wanted, which would have solved all my problems and I was casual and offhand in the interview with Non-Company. I'd put everything into the interview with the Financial Planners the day before. I was devastated and angry when told they'd selected another candidate, literally 20 minutes after I got off the phone with the FP firm, Non-Company called and said they wanted me. I called my Mom and like the ungrateful brat that I was, whined and cried telling her that I was going to 'have to take' the job with Non-Company.
So where does the butterfly effect come in...
The car. My 1997 Mazda Miata.
My sister in law counseled my parents strongly against 'helping' me get a car. But they saw differently. I guess they still saw something in me, something worthy. Goodness knows, at the time I didn't.
I still have that Miata and I don't think any other vehicle will ever mean as much to me. So much changed with that car. In short my whole life. For some reason, the moment I began driving that vehicle, I let go of the past, I let go of the anger. I quit having panic attacks. For once I was living within my means, being the person that I was, no longer trying to cling to someone else's identity, to their values.
I was able to get to my job, do well, leave at the end of a day and not have to wait for my Dad to come get me in the ramshackle old Toyota. I can't even articulate the relief from stress and worry about transportation. My Dad freed from having to rush across town to pick me up, was able to get to his job and do well.
Some days ago, I found one of my prayer lists from approximately two (2) years ago and some bank statements. As I read this list and looked at the statements, I was so overcome by what I saw that I wept, for God has so specifically met exactly every need I laid out and looking at the statements, I saw tangibly how His hand was upon me. I was able to see that in times of want, and in times of plenty, He really has been right there with me all the time. When you are in your thirties and down to your last $100.00, you need to KNOW that He is with you.
So many times, I tried to leave Non-Company. I sent out resumes by the dozen. I interviewed. But it seemed like God closed every door. Every time I tried to leave, something or someone would stop me. And it looks like He was right. I think He was smiling at me on Wednesday, when I began my first official day, 'See, I always know best...'
The car led to the job, the job led me to humble myself and work hard, working hard led to notice from O'Malley and O'Malley led me to bona fide employee.
You just never know what effect a seemingly small thing you do for someone else will have on their life. Don't miss the opportunity..
The Butterfly Effect....
Friday, November 29, 2013
Advice To My Niece On Her Eighteenth Birthday
I know a little bit about regret...
After all yesterday was Thanksgiving. As I reached for the antacids, I re-lived every mouthful of the damage I'd wrought to my digestive system while overindulging at a champagne buffet. I have no excuses to offer other than the fact that just about everything tastes better when accompanied by the fruity effervescence that is champagne. So...I...ate...well...everything...
But this is a different kind of regret. The kind that only comes with time and experience. The kind you wish someone had told you about.
My eldest niece turned eighteen today. I know that seems impossible given how young and fabulous I am, but sadly, 'tis true!
I was a bit shocked and taken aback upon realizing this fact because it really does seem, when viewed through my eyes, like yesterday, when I was feeding her strained carrots and she was spitting them back out all over her bib as fast as I could shovel them in her mouth, reading her favorite book, "Mr. Brown Can Moo Can You!", when I first flew to Boston to visit and she realized I was there and hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe.
But time and distance are such formidable foes. We are somewhat strangers these days.
I so desire I could tell her the things I wish I'd known at eighteen.
So here goes....
1. Get the college degree...Get that stupid piece of paper. No matter what it costs, no matter what you have to do to get it. To the world, it matters. How much you've read and how naturally bright you are doesn't really factor in the world's eyes', in HR's eyes. All they see is the piece of paper or the lack of it. To them, you are your resume, your CV. You can talk about Bill Gates all you want. You aren't Bill Gates.
2. Don't miss out on opportunities because you feel that it 'isn't the right time'. If you keep waiting for the right time, you'll end up missing everything.
3. It's not all about money. I left the job that I loved most in the world, the thing that made me the happiest in life, assisting in a veterinary hospital, because another person I respected more than myself convinced me I needed more money and status to be happy. It's the worst decision I ever made. Life is way more than what's in your wallet.
4. Have Faith. I am not exactly trying to proselytize here. But let me say that, in the best of times, in the worst of times, it is my bedrock belief and faith in God that has been the anchor of my life. When things go wrong, and they will, you need something and someone higher to turn to.
5. Believe in Love. No matter what others tell you, no matter how many times they tell you you're too picky, that you're looking for something that doesn't exist, even if it never comes in this life, believe.
It matters.
6. Quit looking to others to make you happy. They never will and frequently it is their opinions that are the chains that most bind you. It's up to you to make your own happiness. Seek happiness. Let go of people who drag you down, who use you for their own ends, even if it's difficult to do, in the end, you'll be better for it.
7. Beware of credit. Learn about money, about saving. Take classes, read about it. Basically, if you can't afford something with the means you have right now, you don't need it. Having a credit card for true emergencies that you pay immediately is one thing, taking 3-4 cards just because you can is foolhardy. Credit agencies love to give 'college kids' cards. But with credit cards, much like gambling, the advantage is always with the house.
8. Make time for family. It's important. Last fall, I put off seeing Uncle Bob when he first got to Florida because I was busy, because 'the time just wasn't right'. I rationalized, he'll be here until the spring, I've plenty of time. Only, I didn't. He was gone before I'd ever had a chance to see him again. With life, you never know if the opportunity to see family that you put off might be the last time you'll ever see them.
9. Forgive Often. Don't hold grudges. They're counter-productive. You put way more time and effort into hating someone than simply accepting them warts and all. And hey, you aren't perfect either!
10. I am not really saying this, but I've heard it oft quoted, and I think it's brilliant. I believe it is ascribed to John Lennon, "Life is what happens while you are out making other plans". Accept this and your life will be a lot easier.
11. Learn to live with a servant's heart. I know I've already said this as part of my 'manifesto' but I really feel it bears repeating. The way you treat the supermarket check out girl is a direct reflection of your character. Care about people. Respect their worth as individuals. It is just as easy to bless as it is to curse.
12. Stuff is just that. Stuff. It weighs you down. Don't accumulate junk you don't need just for the sake of the acquisition.
13. Read. Read everything you can get your hands on. If you are going to accumulate 'stuff', accumulate knowledge, accumulate wisdom. It never goes stale.
14. Practice patience. I know when you are just entering adulthood, it's hard to realize that you aren't always going to feel the way you feel right now, but things do change, you deepen, you mature. If something doesn't feel right, respect that feeling, it's your gut telling you 'no'. Be patient, the right house, the right car, the right job, the right man, they are out there. Don't settle for second best. Believe me that gut feeling, it's almost always right. I can't tell you the number of things I wish I 'd listened to my gut not to buy, not to date, not to do.
15. It's a cliché' I know, but time really does heal many things. The broken heart, it will heal. The pain, it will go away. The fear, it will recede. What time can do, when you look back, is simply amazing.
So my dear niece. This is what I wanted to tell you today. All the things I so wish someone had told me.
Truthfully, a lot of them, you'll have to figure out on your own, by trial and error, by failure, and unfortunately, yes by pain and suffering from time to time.
As you venture out in the world, I wish you much happiness and success. But most of all I wish you love.
Your Older and Wiser - Aunt Jill
After all yesterday was Thanksgiving. As I reached for the antacids, I re-lived every mouthful of the damage I'd wrought to my digestive system while overindulging at a champagne buffet. I have no excuses to offer other than the fact that just about everything tastes better when accompanied by the fruity effervescence that is champagne. So...I...ate...well...everything...
But this is a different kind of regret. The kind that only comes with time and experience. The kind you wish someone had told you about.
My eldest niece turned eighteen today. I know that seems impossible given how young and fabulous I am, but sadly, 'tis true!
I was a bit shocked and taken aback upon realizing this fact because it really does seem, when viewed through my eyes, like yesterday, when I was feeding her strained carrots and she was spitting them back out all over her bib as fast as I could shovel them in her mouth, reading her favorite book, "Mr. Brown Can Moo Can You!", when I first flew to Boston to visit and she realized I was there and hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe.
But time and distance are such formidable foes. We are somewhat strangers these days.
I so desire I could tell her the things I wish I'd known at eighteen.
So here goes....
1. Get the college degree...Get that stupid piece of paper. No matter what it costs, no matter what you have to do to get it. To the world, it matters. How much you've read and how naturally bright you are doesn't really factor in the world's eyes', in HR's eyes. All they see is the piece of paper or the lack of it. To them, you are your resume, your CV. You can talk about Bill Gates all you want. You aren't Bill Gates.
2. Don't miss out on opportunities because you feel that it 'isn't the right time'. If you keep waiting for the right time, you'll end up missing everything.
3. It's not all about money. I left the job that I loved most in the world, the thing that made me the happiest in life, assisting in a veterinary hospital, because another person I respected more than myself convinced me I needed more money and status to be happy. It's the worst decision I ever made. Life is way more than what's in your wallet.
4. Have Faith. I am not exactly trying to proselytize here. But let me say that, in the best of times, in the worst of times, it is my bedrock belief and faith in God that has been the anchor of my life. When things go wrong, and they will, you need something and someone higher to turn to.
5. Believe in Love. No matter what others tell you, no matter how many times they tell you you're too picky, that you're looking for something that doesn't exist, even if it never comes in this life, believe.
It matters.
6. Quit looking to others to make you happy. They never will and frequently it is their opinions that are the chains that most bind you. It's up to you to make your own happiness. Seek happiness. Let go of people who drag you down, who use you for their own ends, even if it's difficult to do, in the end, you'll be better for it.
7. Beware of credit. Learn about money, about saving. Take classes, read about it. Basically, if you can't afford something with the means you have right now, you don't need it. Having a credit card for true emergencies that you pay immediately is one thing, taking 3-4 cards just because you can is foolhardy. Credit agencies love to give 'college kids' cards. But with credit cards, much like gambling, the advantage is always with the house.
8. Make time for family. It's important. Last fall, I put off seeing Uncle Bob when he first got to Florida because I was busy, because 'the time just wasn't right'. I rationalized, he'll be here until the spring, I've plenty of time. Only, I didn't. He was gone before I'd ever had a chance to see him again. With life, you never know if the opportunity to see family that you put off might be the last time you'll ever see them.
9. Forgive Often. Don't hold grudges. They're counter-productive. You put way more time and effort into hating someone than simply accepting them warts and all. And hey, you aren't perfect either!
10. I am not really saying this, but I've heard it oft quoted, and I think it's brilliant. I believe it is ascribed to John Lennon, "Life is what happens while you are out making other plans". Accept this and your life will be a lot easier.
11. Learn to live with a servant's heart. I know I've already said this as part of my 'manifesto' but I really feel it bears repeating. The way you treat the supermarket check out girl is a direct reflection of your character. Care about people. Respect their worth as individuals. It is just as easy to bless as it is to curse.
12. Stuff is just that. Stuff. It weighs you down. Don't accumulate junk you don't need just for the sake of the acquisition.
13. Read. Read everything you can get your hands on. If you are going to accumulate 'stuff', accumulate knowledge, accumulate wisdom. It never goes stale.
14. Practice patience. I know when you are just entering adulthood, it's hard to realize that you aren't always going to feel the way you feel right now, but things do change, you deepen, you mature. If something doesn't feel right, respect that feeling, it's your gut telling you 'no'. Be patient, the right house, the right car, the right job, the right man, they are out there. Don't settle for second best. Believe me that gut feeling, it's almost always right. I can't tell you the number of things I wish I 'd listened to my gut not to buy, not to date, not to do.
15. It's a cliché' I know, but time really does heal many things. The broken heart, it will heal. The pain, it will go away. The fear, it will recede. What time can do, when you look back, is simply amazing.
So my dear niece. This is what I wanted to tell you today. All the things I so wish someone had told me.
Truthfully, a lot of them, you'll have to figure out on your own, by trial and error, by failure, and unfortunately, yes by pain and suffering from time to time.
As you venture out in the world, I wish you much happiness and success. But most of all I wish you love.
Your Older and Wiser - Aunt Jill
Friday, October 11, 2013
Tootsie Pop Diplomacy
It started with Tootsie Pops....
Well, actually I think it started with a hard candy assortment...
No..the actual fact is, it began on Administrative Professionals' Day, when my team gave me a bouquet which consisted of a ceramic pot stuffed with cellophane and butterscotch candies and a balloon(let) imprinted with "Happy Administrative Assistant Day" which is a lot to put on a balloon if you think about it.
When I finished scarfing down the butterscotches a few weeks later, I emptied the ceramic pot and set it on my file cabinet thinking it might be a good place to put odds and ends or maybe a plant...
My team had other ideas..."You've got to re-fill that you know..." they'd say. Or..."That pot is still empty?!"
So I broke down and on my lunch hour purchased a humble hard candy assortment and dutifully filled the pot. I got a few takers. And on it went for some months, until one day when I got tired of the assortment and on a whim grabbed a bag of Tootsie Pops to supplement the usual offerings of peppermints, butterscotches, lemon drops, cinnamon disks, etc. Using the hard candy as a base, like potting soil, I propped up the lollies in the pot and waited to see what would happen.
What happened changed my life, re-shaped my thinking, and taught me things I never expected.
At first, only a handful of people noticed them. But it was the way they'd notice them...For some reason, when people see Tootsie Pops, they tend to get a wistful grin on their faces, their eyes light up, and maybe because they are considered to be a more premium lollipop, they tend to ask before they take one, "Okay if I have one?"
I would always answer, "Sure, but you don't have to ask?" That's what they are there for!" Then again, the grin...Maybe Tootsies take people back to their childhood? I'm not sure, but I've rarely seen smiles like I see when someone is unwrapping a Tootsie pop.
The circle widened to my supervisor, who famously eschews most things consisting of white flour and sugar, calling doughnuts and cupcakes 'death cakes', while ominously warning, "that stuff'll kill ya!" thus violating the most ubiquitous rule of office life, "If you bring the doughnuts they will come". Yet he has a weakness for blueberry tootsies, and time and again after lunch, I would catch him indulging in a post-prandial snack, up to his eyeballs in paperwork and yakking on the phone with the tell-tale white stick clenched between his teeth.
The other Monday, he sheepishly handed me a bag of Tootsies, saying gruffly, "I was out at Big Lots the other day and these were on sale" Hmmm...Big Lots has sales? This however has made me the object of legend, a former team member who worked closely with said supervisor for years, upon hearing that her former Non-Company co-worker actually brought in a bag of candy, implied that it was roughly the equivalent of the late Yasser Arafat sitting down for a coffee klatch with Benjamin Netanyahu.
I was to discover this again and again though, that Tootsies cut across boundaries, people just like them regardless of religion, creed, political leanings, sex, class, economic status. Word spread, people from other departments began showing up at my file cabinet to grab a lollipop, indulge in informal chit-chat, jokes began to fly, and I started to really get to know my co-workers. A lot of in-bred prejudices fall away when you realize that people are people, that even the guy you inwardly reviled for having the Obama 2012 sticker on his car, at the end of the day is just a guy who likes a grape tootsie.
As I walked down the halls, people I hadn't known previously, would call out, "Hi, Jill" or smile, ...that's the girl with the Tootsie Pops. I think the Tootsies were the moment I began to be a part of Non-Company, no longer just a long-standing temp.
Today was the day it gelled, as I was walking down the corridor on my way out to the parking lot at lunch, a project manager, waved me down, and handed me a five-dollar bill saying, "Hey, here's my contribution to the Tootsie Pop Fund, I eat a lot of those suckers!" In Non-Company parlance, for someone to actually contribute to a fund without being asked for donations is roughly on par with the Berlin Wall coming down, or at least that's what my incredulous teammate told me when I gleefully waved my five-dollar donation at him.
Like most Americans, I've been frustrated with this protracted government shut-down and I couldn't help thinking with all of this acrimony on the House and Senate floor that maybe if someone could just bring in a glass jar full of Tootsies, surely there is some kind of file cabinet somewhere on the floor of Congress, and set it down, maybe a similar thing could happen. Maybe John Boehner and Harry Reid would discover that despite their differences, they are just two blokes who happen to love the orange-flavored Tootsies. Eric Cantor and Nancy Pelosi might discover that beyond their very disparate ideologies, they both love the pomegranate and think the grape a bit passe'. Maybe for once they'd look beyond parties and just start talking, hanging around the file cabinet, sucking on Tootsie Pops, sharing a joke or two.
Maybe what we really need is the wise old owl, telling us that he couldn't get to the center of the Tootsie Pop without biting, that the world may never know how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll Center of a Tootsie Pop, but that we should never stop trying...
The worst thing for the world right now is it looks like America has stopped trying...
Instead of infighting... perhaps what we really need is to ask Tootsie Roll Industries to air freight a couple of cases of Pops to Congress..
Well, actually I think it started with a hard candy assortment...
No..the actual fact is, it began on Administrative Professionals' Day, when my team gave me a bouquet which consisted of a ceramic pot stuffed with cellophane and butterscotch candies and a balloon(let) imprinted with "Happy Administrative Assistant Day" which is a lot to put on a balloon if you think about it.
When I finished scarfing down the butterscotches a few weeks later, I emptied the ceramic pot and set it on my file cabinet thinking it might be a good place to put odds and ends or maybe a plant...
My team had other ideas..."You've got to re-fill that you know..." they'd say. Or..."That pot is still empty?!"
So I broke down and on my lunch hour purchased a humble hard candy assortment and dutifully filled the pot. I got a few takers. And on it went for some months, until one day when I got tired of the assortment and on a whim grabbed a bag of Tootsie Pops to supplement the usual offerings of peppermints, butterscotches, lemon drops, cinnamon disks, etc. Using the hard candy as a base, like potting soil, I propped up the lollies in the pot and waited to see what would happen.
What happened changed my life, re-shaped my thinking, and taught me things I never expected.
At first, only a handful of people noticed them. But it was the way they'd notice them...For some reason, when people see Tootsie Pops, they tend to get a wistful grin on their faces, their eyes light up, and maybe because they are considered to be a more premium lollipop, they tend to ask before they take one, "Okay if I have one?"
I would always answer, "Sure, but you don't have to ask?" That's what they are there for!" Then again, the grin...Maybe Tootsies take people back to their childhood? I'm not sure, but I've rarely seen smiles like I see when someone is unwrapping a Tootsie pop.
The circle widened to my supervisor, who famously eschews most things consisting of white flour and sugar, calling doughnuts and cupcakes 'death cakes', while ominously warning, "that stuff'll kill ya!" thus violating the most ubiquitous rule of office life, "If you bring the doughnuts they will come". Yet he has a weakness for blueberry tootsies, and time and again after lunch, I would catch him indulging in a post-prandial snack, up to his eyeballs in paperwork and yakking on the phone with the tell-tale white stick clenched between his teeth.
The other Monday, he sheepishly handed me a bag of Tootsies, saying gruffly, "I was out at Big Lots the other day and these were on sale" Hmmm...Big Lots has sales? This however has made me the object of legend, a former team member who worked closely with said supervisor for years, upon hearing that her former Non-Company co-worker actually brought in a bag of candy, implied that it was roughly the equivalent of the late Yasser Arafat sitting down for a coffee klatch with Benjamin Netanyahu.
I was to discover this again and again though, that Tootsies cut across boundaries, people just like them regardless of religion, creed, political leanings, sex, class, economic status. Word spread, people from other departments began showing up at my file cabinet to grab a lollipop, indulge in informal chit-chat, jokes began to fly, and I started to really get to know my co-workers. A lot of in-bred prejudices fall away when you realize that people are people, that even the guy you inwardly reviled for having the Obama 2012 sticker on his car, at the end of the day is just a guy who likes a grape tootsie.
As I walked down the halls, people I hadn't known previously, would call out, "Hi, Jill" or smile, ...that's the girl with the Tootsie Pops. I think the Tootsies were the moment I began to be a part of Non-Company, no longer just a long-standing temp.
Today was the day it gelled, as I was walking down the corridor on my way out to the parking lot at lunch, a project manager, waved me down, and handed me a five-dollar bill saying, "Hey, here's my contribution to the Tootsie Pop Fund, I eat a lot of those suckers!" In Non-Company parlance, for someone to actually contribute to a fund without being asked for donations is roughly on par with the Berlin Wall coming down, or at least that's what my incredulous teammate told me when I gleefully waved my five-dollar donation at him.
Like most Americans, I've been frustrated with this protracted government shut-down and I couldn't help thinking with all of this acrimony on the House and Senate floor that maybe if someone could just bring in a glass jar full of Tootsies, surely there is some kind of file cabinet somewhere on the floor of Congress, and set it down, maybe a similar thing could happen. Maybe John Boehner and Harry Reid would discover that despite their differences, they are just two blokes who happen to love the orange-flavored Tootsies. Eric Cantor and Nancy Pelosi might discover that beyond their very disparate ideologies, they both love the pomegranate and think the grape a bit passe'. Maybe for once they'd look beyond parties and just start talking, hanging around the file cabinet, sucking on Tootsie Pops, sharing a joke or two.
Maybe what we really need is the wise old owl, telling us that he couldn't get to the center of the Tootsie Pop without biting, that the world may never know how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll Center of a Tootsie Pop, but that we should never stop trying...
The worst thing for the world right now is it looks like America has stopped trying...
Instead of infighting... perhaps what we really need is to ask Tootsie Roll Industries to air freight a couple of cases of Pops to Congress..
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
My Gen X Rules for Living ( Title Changed 1-6-2025)
(A quick note on this, I changed the title on this from My Gen X Manifesto in 2025; due to the fact that lately, writings with this title keep coming up in conjunction with mass shootings, etc. I had used that title in jest, but it seems like it no longer is funny...so I changed it. A sad commentary on the world in which we live, but I felt this was a necessary action- January 6.2025)
It seems like more and more I've written this blog to an unseen critic, who is scanning my every word for grammatical errors, theme, content, subject agreement and emotions. I've made myself a wreck wondering if I write one thing, who will be offended, if I write another, do I sound angry, mad, trapped in the past, etc.? Then I keep trying to write this one absolutely fantastic piece that goes viral and makes people want to interview me on television and gives my moment of immortality.
I think today is the day that I will quit listening to the critics and write what I want to hear. If I talk about the past, it's because I truly miss it. It's not to say that there aren't positive things about the present, but for someone coming at life from my perspective, the truth simply and unadulterated is, I'm not at home in this present. I don't like to think that the best years are behind me, but the whole point of this blog is that I am a Gen X'er in a world I increasingly don't understand. It moves a bit too fast, it's a little too loud, far more morally bankrupt than I would prefer given my choice.
Maybe I've never really stepped out from behind the desk to let you know who I am.
My Gen X Manifesto. By the way, I've always wanted to write my own manifesto, mostly because, I really, really like saying...manifesto, it sounds grand and lofty, doesn't it? Of course, Hitler, Lenin, Marx and Mao Tse-Tung all had manifesto's but you know, they're dead...so why quibble...
So here are my bedrock beliefs, a few truths and a bunch of crap I made up because I can...
1. Irregardless SHOULD NOT be a word. For those of you who thought it already was and have used it in sentences, I salute you and, uh...feel your pain.
2. I believe in the idea that every individual should have the God-given right at any time to sing along with A-Ha's "Take on Me", Foreigners' "I Want to Know What Love Is", and Mister Mister's "Broken Wings" on their car stereo and hit the high notes as loudly and off-key as they possibly can.
3. I believe as one comedian, whose name I can't recall once said, "If only Karen Carpenter and Mama Cass Elliott had shared that ham sandwich, they'd both still be alive today and the world would be a much better place!"
4. If you are depressed, sick, or just plain un-inspired, 25 minutes of watching Bob Ross paint can be life-changing. The same principle can be applied to just about anything Gordon Lightfoot sings and Bruch's Symphony No.1 in G Minor.
5. Knives should always be cleaned in between applying peanut butter and jelly. There is nothing more irksome than peanut butter in the jelly and jelly in the peanut butter. Well, actually there is, toast crumbs in the butter.
6. No-one should go through life without viewing the following at least once, "The Sound of Music", "Casablanca", "The Philadelphia Story" (the one with Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart, not the Tom Hanks movie "Philadelphia" which everybody always thinks this movie is), "Bringing Up Baby", "Swing Time", "Singing in the Rain","Now Voyager", "Stella Dallas", "Star Wars Eps. 4-6", "Raiders of the Lost Ark", "The Thin Man", "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", "While You Were Sleeping", "The Matrix" (but only the first one), "ET" and "Rocky 1,2,3 (skip the rest). This list is actually longer but only these few made the cut because everyone knows a manifesto isn't a doctoral dissertation and space is limited.
7. I dare you to feel un-happy while listening to Matthew Wilder's 'Break My Stride'. Ditto for Katrina and the Waves, 'Walking on Sunshine'.
8. I live by the words of a former pastor, Dr. Mark Rutland who once opined, "There is a direct correlation between your relationship with God and the way you treat the clerk at the supermarket". Practice living with a servant's heart. It's pretty good stuff.
9. I believe that life without a cat or two is pretty useless. Animals just make life better.
10. I believe that the actual day the music died was September 10, 1991 when Nirvana released "Smells like Teen Spirit". I've carried a grudge against grunge ever since. It was so...well...unhappy-sounding.
11. I think people today are drowning in a sea of in-gratitude and narcissism the like of which has never been seen before.
12. I am completely in agreement with child prodigy, Blaise Pascal who wrote at the age of 16, "There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.” He went on to among other things, create the mechanical calculator, shape projective geometry, establish many of the economic principles which guide our economy as it is today, all before age 39 when he died. I'm 39. I need to get cracking...
13. I think our generation, the Gen X'ers are the last generation which will ever have had a true childhood. The last to have sporting events where there were winners and (gasp) losers and not everybody got a trophy just for showing up, where every 20 minutes of our life wasn't scheduled, the last generation to have enough common sense to not walk out in the middle of the street into the path of on-coming cars which happens every evening as I come through my neighborhood on the way home from work.
14. Like Uncle Si on Duck Dynasty, I always have to have a few things on hand, my Bible, Altoids in my purse and a bottle of water somewhere close to hand.
15. I don't deal well in small talk. I've never understood the principle of how to 'small talk', or flirting for that matter. If you perceive I'm flirting with you, it might not be the case. I'm always the last to know that I was, in fact, flirting with you...
16. I've always felt somewhat defective because I don't eat mayonnaise (loathe it) and don't drink coffee. America seems to run on these two (2) commodities and I've always felt weird because I don't like them.
17. Tattoos are a mystery to me. I don't understand why this culture is so obsessed with them. I wish I could see it differently, but to me, I'll never understand why you feel the need to permanently deface your body. To what purpose...to be trendy? Maybe if you wanted to inculcate some principle you feel you might forget, or perhaps so you won't have to worry about losing a wedding band...
18. I'd still like to teach the world to sing...in perfect Harmony. Perhaps it's an overly idealistic, if not outright ridiculous idea, but I so desire peace. I know that our beliefs will always divide us, even to the point of death, but I truly believe in the ideal, that we are all fearfully and wonderfully made and endowed by our creator with the inalienable gifts of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
19. I devoutly believe in liberty and democracy as the shared hope of the world. Not so easily attainable, but perhaps more worth the earning because of that fact.
20. Lastly, like Jack Black, I too believe, that "One good rock show, with face-melting guitar licks, can change the world."
So there is my manifesto, or at least Volume I...
I think today is the day that I will quit listening to the critics and write what I want to hear. If I talk about the past, it's because I truly miss it. It's not to say that there aren't positive things about the present, but for someone coming at life from my perspective, the truth simply and unadulterated is, I'm not at home in this present. I don't like to think that the best years are behind me, but the whole point of this blog is that I am a Gen X'er in a world I increasingly don't understand. It moves a bit too fast, it's a little too loud, far more morally bankrupt than I would prefer given my choice.
Maybe I've never really stepped out from behind the desk to let you know who I am.
My Gen X Manifesto. By the way, I've always wanted to write my own manifesto, mostly because, I really, really like saying...manifesto, it sounds grand and lofty, doesn't it? Of course, Hitler, Lenin, Marx and Mao Tse-Tung all had manifesto's but you know, they're dead...so why quibble...
So here are my bedrock beliefs, a few truths and a bunch of crap I made up because I can...
1. Irregardless SHOULD NOT be a word. For those of you who thought it already was and have used it in sentences, I salute you and, uh...feel your pain.
2. I believe in the idea that every individual should have the God-given right at any time to sing along with A-Ha's "Take on Me", Foreigners' "I Want to Know What Love Is", and Mister Mister's "Broken Wings" on their car stereo and hit the high notes as loudly and off-key as they possibly can.
3. I believe as one comedian, whose name I can't recall once said, "If only Karen Carpenter and Mama Cass Elliott had shared that ham sandwich, they'd both still be alive today and the world would be a much better place!"
4. If you are depressed, sick, or just plain un-inspired, 25 minutes of watching Bob Ross paint can be life-changing. The same principle can be applied to just about anything Gordon Lightfoot sings and Bruch's Symphony No.1 in G Minor.
5. Knives should always be cleaned in between applying peanut butter and jelly. There is nothing more irksome than peanut butter in the jelly and jelly in the peanut butter. Well, actually there is, toast crumbs in the butter.
6. No-one should go through life without viewing the following at least once, "The Sound of Music", "Casablanca", "The Philadelphia Story" (the one with Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart, not the Tom Hanks movie "Philadelphia" which everybody always thinks this movie is), "Bringing Up Baby", "Swing Time", "Singing in the Rain","Now Voyager", "Stella Dallas", "Star Wars Eps. 4-6", "Raiders of the Lost Ark", "The Thin Man", "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", "While You Were Sleeping", "The Matrix" (but only the first one), "ET" and "Rocky 1,2,3 (skip the rest). This list is actually longer but only these few made the cut because everyone knows a manifesto isn't a doctoral dissertation and space is limited.
7. I dare you to feel un-happy while listening to Matthew Wilder's 'Break My Stride'. Ditto for Katrina and the Waves, 'Walking on Sunshine'.
8. I live by the words of a former pastor, Dr. Mark Rutland who once opined, "There is a direct correlation between your relationship with God and the way you treat the clerk at the supermarket". Practice living with a servant's heart. It's pretty good stuff.
9. I believe that life without a cat or two is pretty useless. Animals just make life better.
10. I believe that the actual day the music died was September 10, 1991 when Nirvana released "Smells like Teen Spirit". I've carried a grudge against grunge ever since. It was so...well...unhappy-sounding.
11. I think people today are drowning in a sea of in-gratitude and narcissism the like of which has never been seen before.
12. I am completely in agreement with child prodigy, Blaise Pascal who wrote at the age of 16, "There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.” He went on to among other things, create the mechanical calculator, shape projective geometry, establish many of the economic principles which guide our economy as it is today, all before age 39 when he died. I'm 39. I need to get cracking...
13. I think our generation, the Gen X'ers are the last generation which will ever have had a true childhood. The last to have sporting events where there were winners and (gasp) losers and not everybody got a trophy just for showing up, where every 20 minutes of our life wasn't scheduled, the last generation to have enough common sense to not walk out in the middle of the street into the path of on-coming cars which happens every evening as I come through my neighborhood on the way home from work.
14. Like Uncle Si on Duck Dynasty, I always have to have a few things on hand, my Bible, Altoids in my purse and a bottle of water somewhere close to hand.
15. I don't deal well in small talk. I've never understood the principle of how to 'small talk', or flirting for that matter. If you perceive I'm flirting with you, it might not be the case. I'm always the last to know that I was, in fact, flirting with you...
16. I've always felt somewhat defective because I don't eat mayonnaise (loathe it) and don't drink coffee. America seems to run on these two (2) commodities and I've always felt weird because I don't like them.
17. Tattoos are a mystery to me. I don't understand why this culture is so obsessed with them. I wish I could see it differently, but to me, I'll never understand why you feel the need to permanently deface your body. To what purpose...to be trendy? Maybe if you wanted to inculcate some principle you feel you might forget, or perhaps so you won't have to worry about losing a wedding band...
18. I'd still like to teach the world to sing...in perfect Harmony. Perhaps it's an overly idealistic, if not outright ridiculous idea, but I so desire peace. I know that our beliefs will always divide us, even to the point of death, but I truly believe in the ideal, that we are all fearfully and wonderfully made and endowed by our creator with the inalienable gifts of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
19. I devoutly believe in liberty and democracy as the shared hope of the world. Not so easily attainable, but perhaps more worth the earning because of that fact.
20. Lastly, like Jack Black, I too believe, that "One good rock show, with face-melting guitar licks, can change the world."
So there is my manifesto, or at least Volume I...
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Bummin'
Day before yesterday, I sat around the table with some of the family. Just, in passing, I seem to write that a great deal...'I sat around the table with some of the family'...
After we'd eaten, and caught up on the latest news, as seems to be the fashion these days no less than four (4) of us were indulging in a post-prandial scan of our smart phones to be sure that we hadn't missed an email or the latest Facebook post when someone remarked, 'Hey, did you know it was Grandparents Day?'
No one had and except for a few rueful smiles and an apology to my Mom and Stepdad who really are Grandparents, that 'Man, if we'd known, we'd wouldn't have made you cook today!', the matter dropped.
Later, as I drove the 20+ miles home with little to occupy my thoughts but some execrable music (unlike some I haven't been able to make myself pony up for XM Satellite Radio yet) and the antics of my fellow drivers, I had the sudden thought that this was the first time in my life that I had no grandparents left to commemorate. My last surviving grandparent died last December.
As is my wont, I drifted back a bit, thinking about these four personages who gave me my DNA, my fair skin, my tendency toward stubbornness, my love of reading, my extreme dislike of the smell of cooked popcorn (my paternal grandmother), my love of bread and gravy, all of the minutiae that goes into the making of me with all of my attributes and flaws.
It's funny, as I was driving to my Mom's that day, I'd had that sense of deja vu, remembering other Sundays, flying down the interstate in our Volare station wagon on a warm sunny Florida September afternoon to go to Grandma's for an after-church meal. They usually would have returned to Florida from their summer trek to their Ohio home by September. I remember especially loving the month of September because it meant that Grandma and Grandpa would be home. Nothing ever tasted so good as those home-made Sloppy Joe's, always served with soggy potato chips, salad and for some inexplicable reason, Jello. We always had that gelatinous mound of proto-plasm, as an adult I dislike it vehemently, but as a child, I guess I just went with the flow. We'd sit around the table for ages reminiscing and sharing news and stories. 'Yakking' my Grandma always called it. It was the stuff of life for her. Often, we'd still be sitting at that table when Sunday lunch turned to Sunday dinner. It was no problem, out came the leftovers and after that, the lemon bars, seven-layer bars, pistachio cakes, or apple crisp. Seldom, but still notable was the fact that there were a few occasions when we sat even longer and had a second dessert of cookies and heavenly hash ice cream.
I knew that when they came home all of the good stuff would return. Things like taking walks with my Grandma around the Senior Citizen complex they lived in to find petunias, although she called them, 'tunies. Nothing thrilled us more than to see those pastel color flowers with the black faces. And then there was the ritual of 'bumming at the local Mall. I'm never sure if was by accident or by design, but the complex they lived in was one large parking lot walk away from the mall. We'd scramble down the hill that led from the complex to the mall parking lot and then a few more steps to the large glass doors where we'd spend blissful hours walking the mall, bummin', which meant looking in windows, browsing the book shops, the Hallmark store where she bought her boxes of stationary, past the Tiffany Bakery with all of its intoxicating smells, the drugstore for Chicklets and Luden's cough drops, Morrow's Nut House for wax paper bags of pastel non-pariel candies, and then if I'd been good and even some times when I hadn't, I usually netted a mint chip ice cream cone from Baskin Robbins. We rarely bought anything of great value, mostly what Grandma called 'busy work', meaning a coloring book, a packet of Crayolas, a scratch pad. Sometimes I was allowed to have a packet of Starburst candies from the drugstore. Even as an adult, when I chew a Starburst candy, I'm back there, a child, in the drugstore at the mall.
The mall I used to walk with my grandmother still exists, but I rarely go there now. Once, my Mom asked me why, if I go to a mall at all, I never go to that one, "Too many ghosts", I said. When I look across that parking lot on the west side of the mall now, the complex is gone, the pool where I learned to swim lies under the three-story parking garage that adjoins the new multi-plex movie theatre. They demolished the old Twin theater back in the late 80's. Grandma went there for .25 cent movie days on Wednesday mornings.
On occasion, when I feel overwhelmed by life or when I'm ill and broken down in some way, I mentally take that trip in my mind; I'm always amazed at the piercing clarity with which I remember it all. They were such simple pleasures. Just Grandma and I walking the mall and ferreting out treasures.
Bummin...
After we'd eaten, and caught up on the latest news, as seems to be the fashion these days no less than four (4) of us were indulging in a post-prandial scan of our smart phones to be sure that we hadn't missed an email or the latest Facebook post when someone remarked, 'Hey, did you know it was Grandparents Day?'
No one had and except for a few rueful smiles and an apology to my Mom and Stepdad who really are Grandparents, that 'Man, if we'd known, we'd wouldn't have made you cook today!', the matter dropped.
Later, as I drove the 20+ miles home with little to occupy my thoughts but some execrable music (unlike some I haven't been able to make myself pony up for XM Satellite Radio yet) and the antics of my fellow drivers, I had the sudden thought that this was the first time in my life that I had no grandparents left to commemorate. My last surviving grandparent died last December.
As is my wont, I drifted back a bit, thinking about these four personages who gave me my DNA, my fair skin, my tendency toward stubbornness, my love of reading, my extreme dislike of the smell of cooked popcorn (my paternal grandmother), my love of bread and gravy, all of the minutiae that goes into the making of me with all of my attributes and flaws.
It's funny, as I was driving to my Mom's that day, I'd had that sense of deja vu, remembering other Sundays, flying down the interstate in our Volare station wagon on a warm sunny Florida September afternoon to go to Grandma's for an after-church meal. They usually would have returned to Florida from their summer trek to their Ohio home by September. I remember especially loving the month of September because it meant that Grandma and Grandpa would be home. Nothing ever tasted so good as those home-made Sloppy Joe's, always served with soggy potato chips, salad and for some inexplicable reason, Jello. We always had that gelatinous mound of proto-plasm, as an adult I dislike it vehemently, but as a child, I guess I just went with the flow. We'd sit around the table for ages reminiscing and sharing news and stories. 'Yakking' my Grandma always called it. It was the stuff of life for her. Often, we'd still be sitting at that table when Sunday lunch turned to Sunday dinner. It was no problem, out came the leftovers and after that, the lemon bars, seven-layer bars, pistachio cakes, or apple crisp. Seldom, but still notable was the fact that there were a few occasions when we sat even longer and had a second dessert of cookies and heavenly hash ice cream.
I knew that when they came home all of the good stuff would return. Things like taking walks with my Grandma around the Senior Citizen complex they lived in to find petunias, although she called them, 'tunies. Nothing thrilled us more than to see those pastel color flowers with the black faces. And then there was the ritual of 'bumming at the local Mall. I'm never sure if was by accident or by design, but the complex they lived in was one large parking lot walk away from the mall. We'd scramble down the hill that led from the complex to the mall parking lot and then a few more steps to the large glass doors where we'd spend blissful hours walking the mall, bummin', which meant looking in windows, browsing the book shops, the Hallmark store where she bought her boxes of stationary, past the Tiffany Bakery with all of its intoxicating smells, the drugstore for Chicklets and Luden's cough drops, Morrow's Nut House for wax paper bags of pastel non-pariel candies, and then if I'd been good and even some times when I hadn't, I usually netted a mint chip ice cream cone from Baskin Robbins. We rarely bought anything of great value, mostly what Grandma called 'busy work', meaning a coloring book, a packet of Crayolas, a scratch pad. Sometimes I was allowed to have a packet of Starburst candies from the drugstore. Even as an adult, when I chew a Starburst candy, I'm back there, a child, in the drugstore at the mall.
The mall I used to walk with my grandmother still exists, but I rarely go there now. Once, my Mom asked me why, if I go to a mall at all, I never go to that one, "Too many ghosts", I said. When I look across that parking lot on the west side of the mall now, the complex is gone, the pool where I learned to swim lies under the three-story parking garage that adjoins the new multi-plex movie theatre. They demolished the old Twin theater back in the late 80's. Grandma went there for .25 cent movie days on Wednesday mornings.
On occasion, when I feel overwhelmed by life or when I'm ill and broken down in some way, I mentally take that trip in my mind; I'm always amazed at the piercing clarity with which I remember it all. They were such simple pleasures. Just Grandma and I walking the mall and ferreting out treasures.
Bummin...
Monday, August 26, 2013
School Days
You know that icky feeling of dread that you get in your stomach when you feel that you may have forgotten something, something really important?
That feeling was coursing through me at about 7:30 a.m. this morning. The Non-Company German contingent were on their way, and I'd forgotten to check whether or not their flown-ahead shipment of tools and supplies were accounted for last week, before Monday rolled around, before the Germans were set to be here. By 8:00 a.m., I'd been to Receiving and finding no crates from Germany, I, well there is no other way to say it,was absolutely 'wigged out, off-the-reservation, out of my mind'. By 8:15 a.m., I was on the phone haranguing some poor girl in the Orlando International Airport for the number for the freight connection of Lufthansa Airlines. At 8:30 a.m., I was on the phone with Lufthansa Freight, pleading with them to tell me that the shipment had made it through customs, wasn't sitting abandoned in some warehouse somewhere, or worse that it hadn't been left for dead out on the tarmac in Dusseldorf. By 10:30 a.m., relieved to find that the shipment had actually made it to Orlando, I'd finally reached the courier where some burnt out guy named Vinnie (and no I am not making this up) with a devil-may-care heavy on the Bronx accent told me that "yeah, we was supposed to deliver on Friday, but it never made it on the truck, so we figgered we'd just ship it today".
"Okay, I said wearily, biting back the epithets I longed to lob at him, "so what's your ETA?" Vinnie considers his words for a moment and says, "well, sometime between now and noon. Youse see nomally we can tell ya if we already loaded the truck, but were still loadin' it, so we can't tell ya exactly when. Prawbly bout' an hour and a haf." Making it, you guessed it... exactly noon.
Then I proceeded to don safety glasses and steel-toed over shoes every 30 minutes to run out to the factory floor and irritate the crew in Receiving to 'check on the status'. In between floor runs, I nearly downloaded a Trojan horse virus by opening a mail I would normally have never opened had I been in my right mind, locked myself out of a Non-Company database by keying in the wrong password repeatedly, banged my shin on an open file drawer and jammed my fingers in my desk drawer.
In between, I mourned, this was my project, the first one I'd really been given the lead on in all my time at Non-Company. I'm letting my new boss down. I should have checked the status on Friday. Why didn't I check the status on Friday?
So what does this all have to do with school....
At one point today, in a lull between phone calls, between catastrophes, I saw my mobile phone blinking. A strobing blue light, which says hey, you have a message, an email, an update. In this case a Facebook update. So I stole a moment away, strolled through my News Feed, and there I saw a photograph of my friends' daughter. Actually, the friend who was my best friend all through my adolescence, my school years. It was her daughter, all dressed up, first day of school. Fifth Grade. There were several photos. In fact, it appeared to be somewhat of an occasion, pictures with her Dad and sister, with her grandparents, walking to the bus, boarding the bus, her new backpack slung over her shoulder, new lunchbox in her hand. I once knew her grandparents well; growing up they were like a second family to me.
Looking at the pictures, it called back so many memories, this friend and I met at her daughter's age now. With about a six-month age gap between us, she would have been heading off to 4th grade and me to the 5th. But we always walked to the bus stop together. Away from school we were inseparable, the best of friends. Always passing notes, having sleepovers at each other's homes, talking on the phone until all hours. BFF's forever.
I felt hollow inside. We're Facebook friends but not friends in the way we were. Time, distance and different lifestyles have separated us. While I was wigging out at work, trying to solve my crisis, she was experiencing a milestone moment, putting her daughter on the bus. In a few weeks, I'll have mostly forgotten about today's crises, five months from now I won't remember it all, but she'll always have this day to remember. In younger days, we were so sure we'd always be friends, that we'd stay in the same place, that our kids would be friends. Sometimes it seems so implausible that I sit here, edging nearer to 40, and have no children, no spouse. A demanding job that seems to take up every moment of my life, my thoughts...my energy.
I still cherish a photo of us, well, the four of us, she and I, and my younger sister and her younger brother...we were quite a crew. And now...scattered, different states, different lives, all of them with children, she has 2, her brother 2, my sister 3, and me well....0. Sometimes I find it so hard to believe it turned out this way.
I've always believed in the core of my being, that God doesn't make mistakes, that our lives are as he would have us to be. But sometimes, a smaller, inner part of me wonders, was it God choosing this life or me refusing to be braver, to take more risks with my heart?
And every so often, at this time of year, I wish I were putting my kid on the bus.
That feeling was coursing through me at about 7:30 a.m. this morning. The Non-Company German contingent were on their way, and I'd forgotten to check whether or not their flown-ahead shipment of tools and supplies were accounted for last week, before Monday rolled around, before the Germans were set to be here. By 8:00 a.m., I'd been to Receiving and finding no crates from Germany, I, well there is no other way to say it,was absolutely 'wigged out, off-the-reservation, out of my mind'. By 8:15 a.m., I was on the phone haranguing some poor girl in the Orlando International Airport for the number for the freight connection of Lufthansa Airlines. At 8:30 a.m., I was on the phone with Lufthansa Freight, pleading with them to tell me that the shipment had made it through customs, wasn't sitting abandoned in some warehouse somewhere, or worse that it hadn't been left for dead out on the tarmac in Dusseldorf. By 10:30 a.m., relieved to find that the shipment had actually made it to Orlando, I'd finally reached the courier where some burnt out guy named Vinnie (and no I am not making this up) with a devil-may-care heavy on the Bronx accent told me that "yeah, we was supposed to deliver on Friday, but it never made it on the truck, so we figgered we'd just ship it today".
"Okay, I said wearily, biting back the epithets I longed to lob at him, "so what's your ETA?" Vinnie considers his words for a moment and says, "well, sometime between now and noon. Youse see nomally we can tell ya if we already loaded the truck, but were still loadin' it, so we can't tell ya exactly when. Prawbly bout' an hour and a haf." Making it, you guessed it... exactly noon.
Then I proceeded to don safety glasses and steel-toed over shoes every 30 minutes to run out to the factory floor and irritate the crew in Receiving to 'check on the status'. In between floor runs, I nearly downloaded a Trojan horse virus by opening a mail I would normally have never opened had I been in my right mind, locked myself out of a Non-Company database by keying in the wrong password repeatedly, banged my shin on an open file drawer and jammed my fingers in my desk drawer.
In between, I mourned, this was my project, the first one I'd really been given the lead on in all my time at Non-Company. I'm letting my new boss down. I should have checked the status on Friday. Why didn't I check the status on Friday?
So what does this all have to do with school....
At one point today, in a lull between phone calls, between catastrophes, I saw my mobile phone blinking. A strobing blue light, which says hey, you have a message, an email, an update. In this case a Facebook update. So I stole a moment away, strolled through my News Feed, and there I saw a photograph of my friends' daughter. Actually, the friend who was my best friend all through my adolescence, my school years. It was her daughter, all dressed up, first day of school. Fifth Grade. There were several photos. In fact, it appeared to be somewhat of an occasion, pictures with her Dad and sister, with her grandparents, walking to the bus, boarding the bus, her new backpack slung over her shoulder, new lunchbox in her hand. I once knew her grandparents well; growing up they were like a second family to me.
Looking at the pictures, it called back so many memories, this friend and I met at her daughter's age now. With about a six-month age gap between us, she would have been heading off to 4th grade and me to the 5th. But we always walked to the bus stop together. Away from school we were inseparable, the best of friends. Always passing notes, having sleepovers at each other's homes, talking on the phone until all hours. BFF's forever.
I felt hollow inside. We're Facebook friends but not friends in the way we were. Time, distance and different lifestyles have separated us. While I was wigging out at work, trying to solve my crisis, she was experiencing a milestone moment, putting her daughter on the bus. In a few weeks, I'll have mostly forgotten about today's crises, five months from now I won't remember it all, but she'll always have this day to remember. In younger days, we were so sure we'd always be friends, that we'd stay in the same place, that our kids would be friends. Sometimes it seems so implausible that I sit here, edging nearer to 40, and have no children, no spouse. A demanding job that seems to take up every moment of my life, my thoughts...my energy.
I still cherish a photo of us, well, the four of us, she and I, and my younger sister and her younger brother...we were quite a crew. And now...scattered, different states, different lives, all of them with children, she has 2, her brother 2, my sister 3, and me well....0. Sometimes I find it so hard to believe it turned out this way.
I've always believed in the core of my being, that God doesn't make mistakes, that our lives are as he would have us to be. But sometimes, a smaller, inner part of me wonders, was it God choosing this life or me refusing to be braver, to take more risks with my heart?
And every so often, at this time of year, I wish I were putting my kid on the bus.
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