So, are you afraid to go out now without a face mask? Stay calm. Do what we're asked to do. But I would think of it as acting in a play... When you're in line at the grocery store, only going in a few folks at a time, you're playing a roll. We are playing a role...our face masks are our costumes...
But let's help each other do what we need to do to keep as calm as possible. 💜💜
https://youtu.be/BvLx17NNlu0
Saturday, April 4, 2020
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
Images
A friend of mine who's now in Heaven once told me that Victoria Hearst had become a Christian. "Hearst?" I thought...As in, related to William Randolph Hearst? As in Hearst Castle? As in, newspapers and magazines? As in the story that the movie "Citizen Kane" is at least partially based on? (Supposedly). Yes. All of the above.
Truth: Just say the word 'Castle" and you have my attention. We have REAL ones...really?? Yes indeed. And down in San Simeon among many, many rolling hills covered in nothing but dry, yellow grass is, a vast, beautiful, unexpected, Roman Columns and green foliage everywhere...castle. Most people, if they know the name Hearst, know it because of the Patty Hearst kidnapping. Maybe they've heard that she was kidnapped back in the seventies, or they've seen the picture of her with the machine gun. Either that, or they know about the castle in California on the coast. But why do I bring up Victoria Hearst? Because I just heard a commercial on a local Christian radio station about Cosmopolitan magazine. It was Victoria Hearst, warning parents that Cosmo contains pornography which can be harmful to children. Cosmopolitan magazine, among many others, is owned by the Hearst Oorporation. I just want to say : "Way to go Victoria! Thank you.". I feel this is a brave thing for her to do, considering that the empire begun by her famous family has remained the giant that it is largely due to...images.
Victoria, is the youngest of five children born to Randolph Apperson Hearst and Catherine Campbell Hearst. She is Patricia Hearst's younger sister (Patricia being the third of five children), and both are of course, granddaughters of William Randolph Hearst, who began the Hearst Corporation, and built the famous castle, known by the family as "The Ranch". Randolph A. Hearst and his brother David, are twin boys (not identical), the youngest of five children born to William Randolph Hearst and his wife Millicent.
William Randolph Hearst was born in San Francisco, CA on April 29, 1863; the only child of George Hearst and his wife Phoebe Apperson Hearst. His father was a U.S. senator who quite literally, owned a goldmine. He was a millionaire mining engineer. The beginning of the Hearst Corporation can quite easily become a Labrynth that one can get lost in. In fact, it may just be easier to watch the 1941 Orsen Wells flick "Citizen Kane" to get a feel for what the famous tycoon's life was like. He attended Harvard where he was involved in many activities & was later expelled for various unflattering antics. Needing a job, in 1887, he took over the San Francisco "Examiner," a newspaper his father had received, apparently, as repayment for a gambling debt. Hearst gave his paper the motto "Monarch of the Dailies", and always hired the very best in every field, including writing. Hearst would eventually have Mark Twain and Jack London writing for him, and he would later go on to buy the "New York Morning Journal" which had contributors such as Stephen Crane (The Red Badge of Courage) and Julian Hawthorne.
Truth: Just say the word 'Castle" and you have my attention. We have REAL ones...really?? Yes indeed. And down in San Simeon among many, many rolling hills covered in nothing but dry, yellow grass is, a vast, beautiful, unexpected, Roman Columns and green foliage everywhere...castle. Most people, if they know the name Hearst, know it because of the Patty Hearst kidnapping. Maybe they've heard that she was kidnapped back in the seventies, or they've seen the picture of her with the machine gun. Either that, or they know about the castle in California on the coast. But why do I bring up Victoria Hearst? Because I just heard a commercial on a local Christian radio station about Cosmopolitan magazine. It was Victoria Hearst, warning parents that Cosmo contains pornography which can be harmful to children. Cosmopolitan magazine, among many others, is owned by the Hearst Oorporation. I just want to say : "Way to go Victoria! Thank you.". I feel this is a brave thing for her to do, considering that the empire begun by her famous family has remained the giant that it is largely due to...images.
Victoria, is the youngest of five children born to Randolph Apperson Hearst and Catherine Campbell Hearst. She is Patricia Hearst's younger sister (Patricia being the third of five children), and both are of course, granddaughters of William Randolph Hearst, who began the Hearst Corporation, and built the famous castle, known by the family as "The Ranch". Randolph A. Hearst and his brother David, are twin boys (not identical), the youngest of five children born to William Randolph Hearst and his wife Millicent.
William Randolph Hearst was born in San Francisco, CA on April 29, 1863; the only child of George Hearst and his wife Phoebe Apperson Hearst. His father was a U.S. senator who quite literally, owned a goldmine. He was a millionaire mining engineer. The beginning of the Hearst Corporation can quite easily become a Labrynth that one can get lost in. In fact, it may just be easier to watch the 1941 Orsen Wells flick "Citizen Kane" to get a feel for what the famous tycoon's life was like. He attended Harvard where he was involved in many activities & was later expelled for various unflattering antics. Needing a job, in 1887, he took over the San Francisco "Examiner," a newspaper his father had received, apparently, as repayment for a gambling debt. Hearst gave his paper the motto "Monarch of the Dailies", and always hired the very best in every field, including writing. Hearst would eventually have Mark Twain and Jack London writing for him, and he would later go on to buy the "New York Morning Journal" which had contributors such as Stephen Crane (The Red Badge of Courage) and Julian Hawthorne.
That "uhh-Oh" Feeling
You know there just is not much that's taught about dealing with lust in the church. And I mean, what do we practically, literally DO when we are dealing with this, and wonderful, well meaning, lovely people want to quote 2 Timothy 2:22 to us? This verse after all, tells us that it is a good thing to fellowship with like minded believers whose focus is on Yeshua (as a means of "steering clear" of the temptation, I think). Absolutely! Wonderful! Splendid! But what if, while you're involved in this amazing fellowship...you want to lean over and kiss the person next to you? Take heart, married folks, I'm not wanting to tempt you in any way...but lets face it...this happens, right?
Right now, I'm speaking more to those who are unmarried, and maybe they want to be...and they are trying to "keep themselves" only for their spouse, but they are also wondering when it's going to happen for them. They are, "on the look out" (they are!) and they are wondering who this amazing person they are supposed to marry could be. First of all,, I know what you're already thinking: "Don't sit right next to them!" (Duh!). And you would be right...I think this needs to be rule number one. However, it seems to me, that we can physically move away from that person all we want; but where is our heart in all of that? If a "seed" has already been planted...it will grow! (That is, if we meditate on it). Besides, the fellowship in a church is all about a unity and a coming together, rather than a tearing apart. So, it makes sense to me that when such a seed has been planted for whatever reason, a certain anxiety and a guilt is also allowed to grow, and can even begin to fester...as we are now faced with...avoiding that person?... But not?
What are they supposed to do...not make eye contact with us? We are going to be in the same building with them for a while doing things TOGETHER...so how is this even possible? Do we look for where they are...and then sit at another table? In another pew? Yes, sometimes, I think this needs to be done, to be honest...but, how sad! This is sad, because now there is a "division" (if you will) in G-d's family...there's a "disturbance in the force" you might say...and what do we do about it? I'm not really sure...but I really believe that there is more to it than just reminding ourselves that there is (nothing new) that we could ever be tempted with. Now, it's good to know that temptation is "common to man.". We can take heart, because none of us are exempt from this. The thing is, how many of you have dealt with this issue and then felt even worse when you remembered the words of Yeshua: "But I say to you that if any man looks on a woman with lust in his heart, he has committed adultery"? Now, Yeshua was right...I'm certainly not saying that he wasn't...but as far as looking on someone with lust in our hearts...each of us (men and women) probably do that everyday...no attraction necessary. I think we do... because we can do it and it doesn't even compute...while watching TV, while on the internet... maybe driving somewhere. It happens...and we don't even notice it.
I'm talking about the times where we almost seem "set up" to do the wrong thing...not by any person, but through circumstance.
Right now, I'm speaking more to those who are unmarried, and maybe they want to be...and they are trying to "keep themselves" only for their spouse, but they are also wondering when it's going to happen for them. They are, "on the look out" (they are!) and they are wondering who this amazing person they are supposed to marry could be. First of all,, I know what you're already thinking: "Don't sit right next to them!" (Duh!). And you would be right...I think this needs to be rule number one. However, it seems to me, that we can physically move away from that person all we want; but where is our heart in all of that? If a "seed" has already been planted...it will grow! (That is, if we meditate on it). Besides, the fellowship in a church is all about a unity and a coming together, rather than a tearing apart. So, it makes sense to me that when such a seed has been planted for whatever reason, a certain anxiety and a guilt is also allowed to grow, and can even begin to fester...as we are now faced with...avoiding that person?... But not?
What are they supposed to do...not make eye contact with us? We are going to be in the same building with them for a while doing things TOGETHER...so how is this even possible? Do we look for where they are...and then sit at another table? In another pew? Yes, sometimes, I think this needs to be done, to be honest...but, how sad! This is sad, because now there is a "division" (if you will) in G-d's family...there's a "disturbance in the force" you might say...and what do we do about it? I'm not really sure...but I really believe that there is more to it than just reminding ourselves that there is (nothing new) that we could ever be tempted with. Now, it's good to know that temptation is "common to man.". We can take heart, because none of us are exempt from this. The thing is, how many of you have dealt with this issue and then felt even worse when you remembered the words of Yeshua: "But I say to you that if any man looks on a woman with lust in his heart, he has committed adultery"? Now, Yeshua was right...I'm certainly not saying that he wasn't...but as far as looking on someone with lust in our hearts...each of us (men and women) probably do that everyday...no attraction necessary. I think we do... because we can do it and it doesn't even compute...while watching TV, while on the internet... maybe driving somewhere. It happens...and we don't even notice it.
I'm talking about the times where we almost seem "set up" to do the wrong thing...not by any person, but through circumstance.
Johnny
I've written before about meeting Joni Ereckson Tada at a family retreat. Joni of course, is a Christian speaker and author with a successful radio program airing on many Christian radio stations. Joni is also a tireless advocate for people with disabilities. She is herself, a quadriplegic. In her case, it was a diving accident at the age of sixteen. I once received some stationary as a gift that had on it paintings that Joni had done. On the back of the box, was a small photo of the artist herself...leaning over a table with a paintbrush in her mouth...having created this absolutely gorgeous sunset! But I have to say, the thing that surprised me most about Joni...was her name. I thought it was "Joanie" and she just spelled it differently. But, it isn't...it's "Johnny" like Johnny Appleseed.
But this story is actually about a different Johnny. When I was eight years old, I saw a paralyzed person for the first time. I'd been invited to a friend's birthday party. I walked in the house and saw the backside of an electric wheel chair. The chair had a ventilator on the back with hoses attached. (Seems to me like there was more than one hose attached). The chair seemed gigantic, I saw the rubber handles on top with the ribbing, and up above that, was someone's head. From the back, he reminded me of what I would call a Jesus hippie: Long hair; brown, about shoulder length, and a bandanna tied around his forehead...it was navy. I saw from the back, where it was tied of course.
To me this was a lot of equipment I had never seen before...with someone's head at the top. I still remember the noise his ventilator made, as it inhaled and exhaled in and out. Sort of a motorized, computerized "push" of oxygen. Even though I knew I was seeing the back of a man, I remember asking
"What is that?"
THAT was my friend's uncle Johnny, WHO became one of the most memorable people I ever knew. Now, when I say my friend, I should clarify, her name is Elvia, and she is my friend for life. We began to get to know each other at about the age of five, and are still friends today. As kids, we spent countless weekends watching movies till late into the night, which brings me to the first thing I remember about Johnny...the VCR (remember those) was in his part of the house. There were three rooms that made up Johnny's main living space, his bedroom, his bathroom across the hall and the entryway between the two that allowed Johnny to go between these rooms, and also into the garrage. There was a wheel chair ramp that went from the back door, through the garrage. This led onto the driveway in the front yard. On sunny days, Johnny would often be waiting outside to see the school bus pull up and bring Elvia home. the main room was where the TV and VCR was. We'd sit up on Johnny's huge bed, it's metal sides moved out of the way, and just watch way too much TV...after we'd fixed whatever we wanted to eat of course. But on this first occasion we met, there was a birthday party... third and fourth grade girls playing party games, eating cake, playing music and just being kids...
Johnny, to me, quickly became like one of us, just playing a game: He would tell a joke, and then tell us where to hide...of course, then he would tell the one who was "it" where we were! And then, sometimes... (look out)...he would chase us in that chair! In the front, Johnny had a device that let him move his chair with his mouth. A grey, sort of "control switch" was attached to a metal bar that brought it to his lips. Being a quadriplegic, Johnny did everything with his lips including smile and tell jokes. He had one of the most distinctive smiles I've ever seen on anyone. His eyes seemed to light up so brightly.
But this story is actually about a different Johnny. When I was eight years old, I saw a paralyzed person for the first time. I'd been invited to a friend's birthday party. I walked in the house and saw the backside of an electric wheel chair. The chair had a ventilator on the back with hoses attached. (Seems to me like there was more than one hose attached). The chair seemed gigantic, I saw the rubber handles on top with the ribbing, and up above that, was someone's head. From the back, he reminded me of what I would call a Jesus hippie: Long hair; brown, about shoulder length, and a bandanna tied around his forehead...it was navy. I saw from the back, where it was tied of course.
To me this was a lot of equipment I had never seen before...with someone's head at the top. I still remember the noise his ventilator made, as it inhaled and exhaled in and out. Sort of a motorized, computerized "push" of oxygen. Even though I knew I was seeing the back of a man, I remember asking
"What is that?"
THAT was my friend's uncle Johnny, WHO became one of the most memorable people I ever knew. Now, when I say my friend, I should clarify, her name is Elvia, and she is my friend for life. We began to get to know each other at about the age of five, and are still friends today. As kids, we spent countless weekends watching movies till late into the night, which brings me to the first thing I remember about Johnny...the VCR (remember those) was in his part of the house. There were three rooms that made up Johnny's main living space, his bedroom, his bathroom across the hall and the entryway between the two that allowed Johnny to go between these rooms, and also into the garrage. There was a wheel chair ramp that went from the back door, through the garrage. This led onto the driveway in the front yard. On sunny days, Johnny would often be waiting outside to see the school bus pull up and bring Elvia home. the main room was where the TV and VCR was. We'd sit up on Johnny's huge bed, it's metal sides moved out of the way, and just watch way too much TV...after we'd fixed whatever we wanted to eat of course. But on this first occasion we met, there was a birthday party... third and fourth grade girls playing party games, eating cake, playing music and just being kids...
Johnny, to me, quickly became like one of us, just playing a game: He would tell a joke, and then tell us where to hide...of course, then he would tell the one who was "it" where we were! And then, sometimes... (look out)...he would chase us in that chair! In the front, Johnny had a device that let him move his chair with his mouth. A grey, sort of "control switch" was attached to a metal bar that brought it to his lips. Being a quadriplegic, Johnny did everything with his lips including smile and tell jokes. He had one of the most distinctive smiles I've ever seen on anyone. His eyes seemed to light up so brightly.
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Review: "Trump's Last Hurrah (What Trump Can Do) By Dr. Syd Harriet
First lady Malania Trump has said that there is nothing negative she has to say about her husband, and that the two of them never fight.
Meanwhile, our president likes to abuse the American public mercilessly through angry, vindictive tweets. He won't read documents or teleprompters, making things up as he goes, has made countless geographical errors while minimizing human suffering due to fires, mass shootings, and death due to the rapidly spreading Carona Virus.
He's been known to be unbearably cruel to anyone disabled or with special needs, mocking them whenever there's a crowd, or behind their backs, according to many who've suffered through it. Not to worry-- he knows how to accessorize. He has a tangerine face and hair to match. The red tie he often wears goes perfectly with the sea of "Make America Great Again" hats we often gaze on due to the fact that 81 percent of Evangelical Christian voters support him.
Dare to say that our leader is not as pure as the driven snow, and you are shunned for your refusal to support him. Back up your refusal with proof, and you are told that it is all fake news and advised to check your sources. Confused? Yeah, so am I. So what's REALLY going on here? Let's just suppose that President Trump was in therapy...
Dr. Syd Harriet examines this not only with clarity, but with amazing compassion. This clever read is a "what if" scenario from an experienced psychologist, examining a suggested treatment plan that would show narcissistic Donald Trump how to achieve what he wants through a process of taking off the mask, and examining the man underneath; which in reality, is hidden from the public at all costs, because narcissists don't deal in truth. The charade Trump has put in place must stay there, or all his fakery will be exposed.
"Mr. President, what you will learn is that you really won't care the next time your decisions are challenged. It's simply a new way of thinking by considering that you could be wrong. And this strategy doesn't demand a highly polished skill set. It's just allowing yourself to be actively curious about your blind spots."
Can you imagine? This book examines our current president's journey to where he is today and some specific humiliations which seem to've caused Trump to retaliate, if you will.
Let's just suppose President Obama for example, became someone our precedent had to annihilate, as a result of "being raked over the coals with jokes and sarcastic banter" at the State Dinner?
With seemingly two extremes going at full speed with this presidency; one being unwavering support of such despicable behavior that can only be sustained with a denial that ignores the truth, and the other, being anger, contempt and bewilderment from those who are seeing that Trump's denial is hurting others; this book helps readers gain some traction and balance and fresh perspective.
Readers can see through the facade, with an empathy and compassion, and the reminder that there is an actual person underneath all this who has been unable and unwilling to face himself. But this examination does not sugar coat or deny Trump's deplorable behavior, or give unearned merit. This book can remind us how willing we all would love to be to support our president if only he were willing to be honest and vulnerable. If only...
Meanwhile, our president likes to abuse the American public mercilessly through angry, vindictive tweets. He won't read documents or teleprompters, making things up as he goes, has made countless geographical errors while minimizing human suffering due to fires, mass shootings, and death due to the rapidly spreading Carona Virus.
He's been known to be unbearably cruel to anyone disabled or with special needs, mocking them whenever there's a crowd, or behind their backs, according to many who've suffered through it. Not to worry-- he knows how to accessorize. He has a tangerine face and hair to match. The red tie he often wears goes perfectly with the sea of "Make America Great Again" hats we often gaze on due to the fact that 81 percent of Evangelical Christian voters support him.
Dare to say that our leader is not as pure as the driven snow, and you are shunned for your refusal to support him. Back up your refusal with proof, and you are told that it is all fake news and advised to check your sources. Confused? Yeah, so am I. So what's REALLY going on here? Let's just suppose that President Trump was in therapy...
Dr. Syd Harriet examines this not only with clarity, but with amazing compassion. This clever read is a "what if" scenario from an experienced psychologist, examining a suggested treatment plan that would show narcissistic Donald Trump how to achieve what he wants through a process of taking off the mask, and examining the man underneath; which in reality, is hidden from the public at all costs, because narcissists don't deal in truth. The charade Trump has put in place must stay there, or all his fakery will be exposed.
"Mr. President, what you will learn is that you really won't care the next time your decisions are challenged. It's simply a new way of thinking by considering that you could be wrong. And this strategy doesn't demand a highly polished skill set. It's just allowing yourself to be actively curious about your blind spots."
Can you imagine? This book examines our current president's journey to where he is today and some specific humiliations which seem to've caused Trump to retaliate, if you will.
Let's just suppose President Obama for example, became someone our precedent had to annihilate, as a result of "being raked over the coals with jokes and sarcastic banter" at the State Dinner?
With seemingly two extremes going at full speed with this presidency; one being unwavering support of such despicable behavior that can only be sustained with a denial that ignores the truth, and the other, being anger, contempt and bewilderment from those who are seeing that Trump's denial is hurting others; this book helps readers gain some traction and balance and fresh perspective.
Readers can see through the facade, with an empathy and compassion, and the reminder that there is an actual person underneath all this who has been unable and unwilling to face himself. But this examination does not sugar coat or deny Trump's deplorable behavior, or give unearned merit. This book can remind us how willing we all would love to be to support our president if only he were willing to be honest and vulnerable. If only...
Monday, January 27, 2020
My Kobe Story
I do have a Kobe Story. Just yesterday, basketball great Kobe Bryant was tragically killed in a helicopter crash at the young age of 41. His 13 year old daughter Gianna was also killed. So all day, news and social media exploded with heartfelt condolences for the man who has been called the greatest Laker of all time. The whole world now seems awash with purple and gold. We are sad. Just very very sad...trying to cling onto someone so many thought of as their hero. For that reason, I almost wish I could take my experience and hand it over to someone else...
Somewhere around 2010, I went to see a Lakers game at UNLV, University of Nevada, Las Vegas. My mother, my sister and I went. We blasted our favorite songs in the car driving there, we played slots, and played more slots, we watched the fountains at the Velagio Hotel, we walked up and down the Srip, we found the "Pawn Stars" Pawn Shop and went inside to have a look. We also got red velvet cupcakes at Freed's Bakerey, another place we'd seen on TV. The Titanic Exhibit was on display at the Luxor, so we just had to go. There was a giant piece of temperature controlled ice, kept at 28 degrees-- the exact degrees of the freezing water the night of the sinking. I held my arm up to the freezing block and counted. I made it to six and couldn't stand it anymore. I backed away, and thought "Ugly way to die."
But of course, none of this has to with the loveable six foot six hero who lost his life yesterday. Somewhere in the middle of all our fun, we sat high up in the stands at the University and watched the Lakers play the Sacramento Kings. I have never been much of a basketball fan. In truth I would not be a fan of Basketball at all, had it not been for Kobe Bryant. My mom and sister lived for Basketball season. I would try to get in on it with them and somehow always get my information wrong: the wrong team, the wrong player, the wrong season, the wrong game. It just wasn't my passion like it was for them. But there WERE and are, three things I loved: The gold and purple, seeing Jack Nicholson on the floor...and Kobe Bryant. To me, Kobe was to the Lakers what Joe Montanna had been for the 49ers. In fact, Kobe was better. Who always got the three pointer that changed the game...that WON the game...often with only a second left? Who managed to get AMAZING amounts of points per game that surpassed every other player? Who dominated every game and everybody loved it? Who was always known as the most dedicated player, even to other basketball greats like Michael Jordan and Shaquille O'Neal? Kobe. Always Kobe. I thought it was cool that his number was 24 because there are 24 hours in a day. It was like it stood for some kind of perfect order or something.
So here I was, watching KOBE BRYANT dribble the ball up and down the court. "Wow, " I thought. "That's KOBE!! That's AMAZING. I t seems comical in retrospect, because the three of us, screaming our lungs out, along with everybody else in the room, had to be sitting right behind possibly the only 3 (or was it 4?)? "Kings" fans in the whole Arena (judging from what they were wearing). I got the impression that these folks were from another country, simply because they were not the typical American sports fans in any way. Even if someone is cheering for the other team...they clap, they hoot, they holler, they stand up at least once. These folks sat perfectly still, they didn't clap and to my knowledge they didn't make any noise...right in the middle of crazy, screaming, LAKERS mania!! Funny, the things that stick in someone's mind. This detail may seem unimportant, but, see the basketball was secondary to me. I was here because I was invited to go to Vegas and do all those other things. I was here because there was an extra ticket. I was here because it was a chance to get out of the house. And...(drumroll)... there was Kobe! There was Kobe! THERE WAS KOBE!!! So, they WON. The Lakers WON! Kobe WON!! But as to the final score...I couldn't tell ya. I don't remember. As grateful as I am now that I got to be there, as was said, I wish I could've wrapped that experience up and given it to someone else as a present: A young boy whose dad had been deployed, or a disabled child unable to leave a hospital bed. Someone who applied to have a wish granted by "Make A Wish Foundation" maybe. But someone for whom Kobe was their hero; someone who knew how many points Kobe got in every game. Someone who simply would've appreciated it so much more than I did at the time. Yesterday, we all held our breath, trying to grasp that Kobe is gone. Many many people are so thankful today that they got to see him play; but still many more wish that they could have. The loveable "teddy bear" of a guy who won at basketball and then won an Academy award as suddenly been taken from us, and we are in shock. When it comes to Basketball, for many, Kobe was the entire game. Now that game is over. Kobe will be missed, and now for many, including me, much more appreciated as a basketball player than he ever was before.
But he was also a husband, a father, a buddy, a tireless humanitarian, a good friend, an artist, an Oscar winner and an amazing role model. So, even for those who knew nothing about basketball, they knew something about Kobe Bryant.So. So to a he'll of a player: Glad I got to see you in action. Fly high, and may you alwats score three pointers wherever you are now.
Somewhere around 2010, I went to see a Lakers game at UNLV, University of Nevada, Las Vegas. My mother, my sister and I went. We blasted our favorite songs in the car driving there, we played slots, and played more slots, we watched the fountains at the Velagio Hotel, we walked up and down the Srip, we found the "Pawn Stars" Pawn Shop and went inside to have a look. We also got red velvet cupcakes at Freed's Bakerey, another place we'd seen on TV. The Titanic Exhibit was on display at the Luxor, so we just had to go. There was a giant piece of temperature controlled ice, kept at 28 degrees-- the exact degrees of the freezing water the night of the sinking. I held my arm up to the freezing block and counted. I made it to six and couldn't stand it anymore. I backed away, and thought "Ugly way to die."
But of course, none of this has to with the loveable six foot six hero who lost his life yesterday. Somewhere in the middle of all our fun, we sat high up in the stands at the University and watched the Lakers play the Sacramento Kings. I have never been much of a basketball fan. In truth I would not be a fan of Basketball at all, had it not been for Kobe Bryant. My mom and sister lived for Basketball season. I would try to get in on it with them and somehow always get my information wrong: the wrong team, the wrong player, the wrong season, the wrong game. It just wasn't my passion like it was for them. But there WERE and are, three things I loved: The gold and purple, seeing Jack Nicholson on the floor...and Kobe Bryant. To me, Kobe was to the Lakers what Joe Montanna had been for the 49ers. In fact, Kobe was better. Who always got the three pointer that changed the game...that WON the game...often with only a second left? Who managed to get AMAZING amounts of points per game that surpassed every other player? Who dominated every game and everybody loved it? Who was always known as the most dedicated player, even to other basketball greats like Michael Jordan and Shaquille O'Neal? Kobe. Always Kobe. I thought it was cool that his number was 24 because there are 24 hours in a day. It was like it stood for some kind of perfect order or something.
So here I was, watching KOBE BRYANT dribble the ball up and down the court. "Wow, " I thought. "That's KOBE!! That's AMAZING. I t seems comical in retrospect, because the three of us, screaming our lungs out, along with everybody else in the room, had to be sitting right behind possibly the only 3 (or was it 4?)? "Kings" fans in the whole Arena (judging from what they were wearing). I got the impression that these folks were from another country, simply because they were not the typical American sports fans in any way. Even if someone is cheering for the other team...they clap, they hoot, they holler, they stand up at least once. These folks sat perfectly still, they didn't clap and to my knowledge they didn't make any noise...right in the middle of crazy, screaming, LAKERS mania!! Funny, the things that stick in someone's mind. This detail may seem unimportant, but, see the basketball was secondary to me. I was here because I was invited to go to Vegas and do all those other things. I was here because there was an extra ticket. I was here because it was a chance to get out of the house. And...(drumroll)... there was Kobe! There was Kobe! THERE WAS KOBE!!! So, they WON. The Lakers WON! Kobe WON!! But as to the final score...I couldn't tell ya. I don't remember. As grateful as I am now that I got to be there, as was said, I wish I could've wrapped that experience up and given it to someone else as a present: A young boy whose dad had been deployed, or a disabled child unable to leave a hospital bed. Someone who applied to have a wish granted by "Make A Wish Foundation" maybe. But someone for whom Kobe was their hero; someone who knew how many points Kobe got in every game. Someone who simply would've appreciated it so much more than I did at the time. Yesterday, we all held our breath, trying to grasp that Kobe is gone. Many many people are so thankful today that they got to see him play; but still many more wish that they could have. The loveable "teddy bear" of a guy who won at basketball and then won an Academy award as suddenly been taken from us, and we are in shock. When it comes to Basketball, for many, Kobe was the entire game. Now that game is over. Kobe will be missed, and now for many, including me, much more appreciated as a basketball player than he ever was before.
But he was also a husband, a father, a buddy, a tireless humanitarian, a good friend, an artist, an Oscar winner and an amazing role model. So, even for those who knew nothing about basketball, they knew something about Kobe Bryant.So. So to a he'll of a player: Glad I got to see you in action. Fly high, and may you alwats score three pointers wherever you are now.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Parents, get it together...Literally
Sometimes, when I'm on the web, reruns of Dr. Phil are on TV, and I am tuning in here and there. Today, there is a 14 year old girl on the show with her parents. This little sweetie dresses way too provocatively for her young age, and her parents are trying to convince her of that. They are also, literally pointing fingers at each other insisting that everything is the other parent's fault.
I stared at this girl's mom for a minute...and then at her daughter. The mother is wearing a black mini-dress with black leather boots that go just above her knees. She has on a red and black blazer that does have a conservative appearance to it...but seated on the stage, all I can see are her thighs in black nylons, the top of her boots and that blazer. Her dress is so short that when she's seated, the blazer hangs over it...and she looks like she doesn't have on half of her clothes.
Her 14 year old daughter, is ALSO wearing black boots, just above the knee, with a short, black (dress or skirt). Her nylons are beige, rather than black...but the point is, like mother like daughter! From the waist down, they are just about identical, and if what I'm saying sounds a bit immodest, it matches the way these two women look. In the course of the show, it has come out that this mother has bought this young girl thong underwear...HELLO?? That doesn't send a CONFUSING message??
We need to teach our children how to protect themselves, be responsible adults and STOP giving all their power away! I can't believe Dr. Phil hasn't said to this mother that her child is only copying the way that SHE is dressing! People, she's a TEENAGER!!! Teens are SUPPOSED to rebel and push, and test limits, and parents are supposed to SET those limits and stick to them. Do these parents love their children or themselves?? I see this father blaming the mother for everything going on and the mother blaming the father, while she's out buying her daughter thong underwear! In the meantime, this daughter gets to keep leaving the house looking like "bait" for some scumbag who has no qualms about feeling a false sense of power when he possibly rapes her, psychologically and physically making himself one with her, and possibly getting her pregnant. Tell me, what good will finger pointing do then??
I stared at this girl's mom for a minute...and then at her daughter. The mother is wearing a black mini-dress with black leather boots that go just above her knees. She has on a red and black blazer that does have a conservative appearance to it...but seated on the stage, all I can see are her thighs in black nylons, the top of her boots and that blazer. Her dress is so short that when she's seated, the blazer hangs over it...and she looks like she doesn't have on half of her clothes.
Her 14 year old daughter, is ALSO wearing black boots, just above the knee, with a short, black (dress or skirt). Her nylons are beige, rather than black...but the point is, like mother like daughter! From the waist down, they are just about identical, and if what I'm saying sounds a bit immodest, it matches the way these two women look. In the course of the show, it has come out that this mother has bought this young girl thong underwear...HELLO?? That doesn't send a CONFUSING message??
We need to teach our children how to protect themselves, be responsible adults and STOP giving all their power away! I can't believe Dr. Phil hasn't said to this mother that her child is only copying the way that SHE is dressing! People, she's a TEENAGER!!! Teens are SUPPOSED to rebel and push, and test limits, and parents are supposed to SET those limits and stick to them. Do these parents love their children or themselves?? I see this father blaming the mother for everything going on and the mother blaming the father, while she's out buying her daughter thong underwear! In the meantime, this daughter gets to keep leaving the house looking like "bait" for some scumbag who has no qualms about feeling a false sense of power when he possibly rapes her, psychologically and physically making himself one with her, and possibly getting her pregnant. Tell me, what good will finger pointing do then??
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