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 My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| Just got back from the museum, over an hour away. I don't much about Chinese history, so it really was a foreign subject to me. I learned that these famous soldiers were commissioned by the first great emperor of China just as he was taking the reign. He was preparing to make great changes, but was also concerned about his immortality. From the very beginning, he planned the massive mausoleum complex and the army that would see him into the afterlife. Although he did many things to unite and fortify China, he is best known for joining all the lengths of the Great Wall and his army for his burial. The name is too hard to spell. I think I can say it okay. The exhibit is by partnership of several American museums and the Chinese. Our state museum is free, but to enter this exhibit, you have to pay. Most of the crowd (thousands? on a Saturday?) soon realized that we know little of ancient history, much less the Chinese states or dynasties. The many artifacts pointed to minute detail on everyday objects. A wine bottle would have script and intricate illustrations on it. The same for a bell or a food bowl. Even the water pipe had small details carved into it. The roof tiles had pictures on each one. As for the soldiers, they made a complete set: an archer, a charioteer, an armored general, a horse groomer, and so forth. Even horses were included. We saw a sampling. The original set had over 2000 full size figures. While I was there, I made a whirlwind tour through some of the American art collection and some of the modern art group. A few exhibits were closed for restructuring. I didn't have time to do the Faberge or Russian collection, or others. I was in a group and not driving. Outdoors, I took photos of some large sculptures and some modern works while waiting for our van. We had lunch in a deli before heading back to our town. While there, I took a lot of photos on my cell phone. I couldn't operate my camera without a flash, which is prohibited. I plan to use these photos with my family kids. Some of the modern art looks like larger versions of what the kids do. As for the sculpture made of propellers from boat motors, I think my brothers could do that. I want to plant the seed of museum visiting in these young kids, as well as encourage their artistic expression. Some of the things I saw looked more like craft projects than art. But that can open up the discussion about defining art, even if they are sort of young. You're never to young to start the conversation about good things. |
| g I haven't seen it. It's not something I particularly care to see each year. But the SI Swimsuit issue has been an annual event for quite a long time. Men of all ages consider it a "sport", and now women are getting becoming "followers". They have tried to remain relevant by using larger size models, by using body paint instead of fashion (I've pondered how two little scraps or strings of cloth can be considered fashion for years now). This year, I've read, they're even showing a wee bit of cellulite. You might celebrate that as real women, the kind in most abundance and available for live viewing. This year they're even boasting of an all female crew and staff for the photo shoot. All from a woman's point of view, I guess. However, I wonder if in this "me too" culture, does something like the SI Swimsuit issue have a place? Does it encourage the dehumanization of women and set them up as targets to be assaulted and exploited? Do these photos encourage men to see women's bodies as public property, rather than unique and personal and very private? Do they encourage women to entice or tease men in whom they are not interested? It seems like we're trying to have it both ways. We've got to figure this out and start taking more responsibility. Men always have exercised power over women, but we no longer consider it understandable or acceptable. But women have to be sure they aren't contributing to the problem. There's a lot of angles to examine. First, women raise and train men. It starts with what little boys get away with. Mothers have to train little boys, as well as girls, to be thoughtful of other people's rights and feelings. Next, girls and women need to know how to protect themselves. When a man, or a date, starts to get out of line, he needs to be told or pushed away. Granted, these days an old-fashioned slap in the face might bring equal or worse in return. But a woman can make it clear what is acceptable and what is not, especially in a work or business situation. But how does someone know what is acceptable the first time she encounters a troublesome situation? How does she learn to trust her own instincts? How do parents teach young women that if something doesn't feel right, they should back off without sounding hyper and prudish? And in our current culture, women are not encouraged to fight back or stand up for themselves. They are encouraged to be promiscuous and free. If a girl wants a boyfriend, she has to let him do whatever he wants. Is it different when she applies for a job, or auditions for a chorus line or a part in a play? Or if she works for a powerful politician? How does she handle difficult circumstances now, rather than come clean twenty years later? And why do some men believe that they are different from the mighty men who have fallen? When they see other illustrious careers crash so publicly, why do they believe that they can get away with the same behavior? Did they never learn that success and power do not insulate you from the consequences of your actions? Where were the masses of parents and educators and preachers for the last several generations? I watch a lot of old movies and old TV shows. I have become disgusted at quite a few for the way women are misrepresented and dehumanized so frequently. These legendary actors may be only playing a part, but the public sees them pushing women around, tearing their clothes, forcing them into relationships they don't want, or otherwise demeaning them. There are so many directors who seem incapable of portraying women as human beings with feelings and sensibilities and backbone. Many of those movies were box office hits and were critically acclaimed. nd what is a horror movie unless it has voluptuous naked women? Maybe it's time for "Hollywood" to examine the ways it portrays women more closely. What about better roles for women? If you're not a Katherine Hepburn or a Susan Sarandon, you have to simulate sex or take off your clothes to land a role. Television, which is in every home, could deliver more responsible programming. Even the comedy shows could emphasize more respect for other people, allowing people to stand up for themselves. Instead, they seem to want these child stars to grow up so fast and make sex so carefree and easy and unconnected to love and caring. These shows could be dealing with kids admitting to funny feelings about teachers or coaches before anything happens. They could deal with the adults dealing with their feelings before they do something they'll regret. Back to Sports Illustrated. What are they doing to encourage young athletes to stand up for themselves, to report inappropriate behavior of trainers and coaches without making false reports or damaging an innocent person's career? How can these swimsuits or the body image issues they seem to be dealing with help or improve the current toxic culture? I don't have the answers, only some questions. But we all need to give it some thought. |
| After much to-do, I have a new computer installed. I have replaced my Internet modem and upgraded my broadband connection. It's not perfect, but it's an improvement. I have new filters for the phones, so I have full phone service again with the broadband. Now, I have two steps left. I have to connect the printer I bought last summer to the new computer (sorting out all those wires). And to buy new Office software. The old hard drive with its outdated system is still good for home use, like writing. It has Office 2007 and tons of photos. I have to find a second hand monitor for it, so we can use it without the Web. I have lots of things to catch up. I want to preserve all those photos. I've also received recently some old photo albums from a cousin. They contain a lot of photos of people I don't know--great aunts or uncles when they were young or my grandmother's cousins. If only they had written names on the back. I can look up my research to figure out who they were, but faces without names mean nothing. There were lots of pictures of my dad as a boy and teen with his late brother or sister. And, there were letters from my grandfather in France in 1918. One letter was from 1917. Others were from the 20's from the naval shipyard in Virginia written by my dad's uncle who died young. I didn't know he was in the service, so I have to research that. It was a treat to read those letters to sisters and mother mostly. One complained that my great aunt Ruth had allowed some girl to see a picture Uncle Kenny had sent of some girls he met in Baltimore. The girl must have had feelings for Kenny because she got mad and wrote him a harsh letter. He wrote back to Ruth to ask, "Can't you take better care of my business back home?" I guess his sister had to be his conspirator. It struck me as funny. I was thrilled to hold a letter in my hands that was 100 years old, or almost that old in a few cases. That glimpse back in time made me realize future generations will not be able to do that. Who saves an e-mail or an Instagram or a Tweet? Cell phone photos, no matter how good, will be thrown out when the phone is replaced. How will they put any family history together? No letters, no paper photos. All things are on the Web which is constantly evolving. |
| Today I attended the funeral of an older friend. I've only known her about 8 years or so. She's been suffering from Alzheimer's the whole time I've known her. She's gradually gotten worse. Yet she continued to sing in the choir, attend women's basketball games at the local university and go to concerts with her husband. In choir, we had to help her find her music, put on her robe, get to her seat, find her place in the music before we sang, and so forth. She interrupted rehearsal consistently to ask questions, but it became habit for all of us to take care of her. It reached the point where her husband could no longer watch over her at home. She went to a care facility without any balking. She couldn't remember who he was every day; yet, some days she remembered great detail. She was never hidden away or denied anything. He visited with her daily and took her out as often as she agreed to go. When the final decline came, it escalated. She went to hospice only a few days after being out and about. A week later she was gone. I knew this was her second marriage, and a long one at that. They both had been married for a long time and widowed before getting together in middle age. I had learned recently that she had been in the military when young. I did not know until today that she had been a nurse. Except for close relatives, I always learn something new about people at their funerals or memorial services. I used to find myself thinking I wish I had known this person better. Now I realize we can never really know everything there is to know about a person. Almost everyone in our realm of influence we could stand to know a little better. Today, with sleet tapping on the canopy at the grave site, military honors were performed. The muted bugle played, then the soldier with the folded flag knelt before the widower for the presentation. No matter how many times I hear it, it still brings a lump to my throat to hear the soldier say after his formal salute and slow kneeling, "On behalf of the president of the United States. . ." This isn't just a ritual. The deceased served his or her country in an active, and sometimes sacrificial way, and his fellow citizens are grateful. Perhaps because it is so formal and so final, that this part of the service is so moving to me. I will miss Kaye. I will miss helping her and testing her memory of old songs. She couldn't remember anything about the game she had just enjoyed a few hours before, but she knew all the words to any old Broadway musical. She couldn't remember which song we were performing today, but once the music started. she never missed a note. She was outspoken and smiled a lot. A lot of people will miss her. |
| Still struggling. Got a new computer. New modem. Too long a story. Phone service down. Lost another blog. |
| My internet connection is so bad this week, I'll have to save after every few sentences. Some days it's great, but it's so unreliable. **I also discovered that if your Internet is off and on like mine, if you hit "Save and Edit" you still lose everything. I may have to forget my super bowl experience until I get this straightened out.***Lost the mood for blabbing about the Bowl after trying three times to post and losing everything. |
| "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." How many times have you heard that one? But is it really true all the time? I take exception to it. Maybe we don't all perceive the road to hell in the same manner. I know there is a hell because I've had brief experiences of hell on earth, my marriage being one of them. The road to hell could be an obvious one, a life of crime, corruption, murder, or terrorism. It could be one of licentiousness and false pleasures. Or it might be more subtle, like an absentee landlord, or tax evasion, white collar crime. Or if you are particularly hard and unforgiving, you might say the road to hell is full of white lies, neglect, and minor abuse of "the rules". So what does any of that have to do with intentions? I can't think of how to say this without examples. If the alcoholic intends to stop drinking but just can't, he suffers hell on earth, and may end up there. (Who are we to judge what is in someone else's heart?) The gunslinger who intends to stop shooting has a big reputation; someone always wants to challenge him, so he kills one more time in self-defense. (I read a lot of westerns.) Maybe some of those type intentions pave that popular highway. But I don't believe all failed intentions lead downward. If you intend to lose five pounds, but don't, does that mean you won't get a heavenly reward? If you intended to visit Aunt Susie in the nursing home before it was too late, but didn't, does that mean you're doomed? If you intended to be more expressive to your wife and children, but held back for whatever baggage was in your head, is your fate sealed? Are intentions of charity, generosity, or self-improvement that go unaccomplished stopping all chances of escaping hell? I think we need good intentions, whether met or not. We need to have some decent ambitions. I intend to improve my correspondence (keep up with people), I intend to have better manners, I intend to visit the sick and the elderly more. I intend to read more. ETC. Failing to meet those does not put me on the road to hell. In fact, some failed intentions work out well. If I intend to do revenge, but have a change of heart, that's a good thing. If I intend to ridicule someone and hurt his reputation, but my plans are thwarted, that's a good thing. Intentions are something we only mention when we fall short of them. No one ever said I intended to graduate from college and I did. Someone might say, I intended to get married and have a family, but instead . . . Funny, how we only think about intentions when we miss them. I bet there's a lot of failed intentions on the road to Heaven, too. |
| Garrison Keillor said that if you can put on your underwear without toppling over, you aren't ready for the nursing home. To put that another way, if you might need to start thinking about a nursing home if you fall over when you try to put your underwear on. Sort of a "You might be a redneck..." thing. Only, we don't say nursing home for all seniors these days. It's a senior community. Within that community, you can have a nursing home, independent living, an Alzheimer's unit,and assisted living. So I'll just say a senior community. With that in mind, I've started a list, with Keillor's as number one. You might need to think about a senior community if you can't go at least one day a week without losing your glasses car keys, or cell phone. , , , if you see one of your grandchildren, and you have to list all your children and grandkids to come up with the right name. , , , if you can't remember whether you've had breakfast and it's only ten a.m. , , , if your favorite TV show is still The Smothers Brothers Hour. , , , if you can remember a Shakespeare soliloquy or all the songs from a musical, but you can't remember what you did yesterday. , , , if your cell phone contacts are all doctors' numbers. , , , if most of your junk mail and computer pop-ups involve medicare supplements, reverse mortgages, hearing loss or incontinence. , , , if you limit your all shopping to certain days so that you can get the senior discount. , , , if your menu is determined by what gives you gas or heartburn. , , , if the most exciting thing you did last week was to get new bifocals. , , , if you go shopping at the mall, then get your exercise walking around afterwards trying to remember where you parked the car. , , , if you're telling a story, get side-tracked, and can't remember what you were talking about. , , , if you're telling a story and one of your kids tells you that you're already told that story several times today. Oh, yes. There is much more. Just something to think about. We're all speeding in that direction. |
| In response to some news stories about some businesses banning cash, I am registering my objection. That's a form of discrimination. Some people don't have bank accounts or have lost faith in banks or they're afraid of identity theft. Some people are too poor for bank cards, but they're unlikely to frequent hot lunch spots or bakeries. I have read a lot of novels, like everyone on this site, and know that it is too easy for someone, like a hacker, or some group, to control the flow of society by locking up accounts of certain people or groups of people. You might have a fortune in your account, your hard earned money, but an enemy can lock your account for the fun of it, or an ex-spouse. Or you can be labeled for your political opinions or your ethnic background, allowing some cyber criminal to lock access to your money. You won't be able to buy gas, or food, or pay your bills, travel, or stay in a hotel when your cards are shut down. Allowing businesses to go cashless only is just the first step to controlling other people's lives. i am guilty myself of buying gas with a card to avoid going into the store. I used to be embarrassed using a card to pay for a dollar cup of coffee, but now I do it without flinching, and even use it in vending machines for a 35 cent fee because I'm usually a nickle short. I even used a bank card for a taxi last week; I haven't taken a taxi in years, so that was a flashback in itself. Yet, I'm told using cash is good for the economy. I understand the argument. Cash takes longer. I've waited in line while the little old lady at the grocer's counts out exact change, then takes a long time to get her purse straight before moving on. I've been tempted to pay the change myself just to speed things up, but decided patience would be the better part of valor. She didn't look poor. A lot of cash also cries out to robbers. Delivery men don't want to carry cash, or cab drivers. I spend cash very quickly and don't have a record of it like I do with bank statements. But cash I write off as spent already. I don't rely on it, like I do a bank balance, which I don't keep up with on a daily balance. The bank card allows me to overspend very quickly, which is good for business, but bad for me. Most Americans overspend. I don't use checks much any more, except for church and charity. My dad pays most things by check, but they're regular monthly bills. They don't have id issues. I know from the business point of view that collecting on a bounced check is expensive and time-consuming. The fees for a bad check have scared most honest check bouncers away from using them. (The bank will charge $32 for the first bounced check, even if it only bounced by fifteen cents. Then the business can charge up to $50 in my state.) My biggest fear is that the more times my bank card number is out there the more likely some punk will use it for airline tickets (it happened a few months ago). But I can quell those thoughts of an apocalyptic or pre -apocalyptic time when all but a select few are denied access to those bank cards. In a cashless society, those folks have no recourse. |
| I just finished a romance novel by Cheryl Biggs. She was prolific. This one was The Cowboy She Never Forgot, a modern novel about a female cop who fell in love with a rodeo cowboy. It was copyrighted 1999. I didn't mind reading about the horses, the barrel racing, or the bull-riding. Nicholas Sparks did one about a cowboy with a ranch in North Carolina. Biggs' story is in Reno. However, I did encounter a lot of what made me avoid romance novels for most of my life. One of my goals this year is to read more genres, and this book is one I found at home, probably one of my mom's books. She would read anything, except a Russian novel--too long. I kept putting it down, and thinking, "Man, this kind of young love is too hard. Who wants all that intrigue and heartbreak? Too much game playing." Then I would try just to finish it. It was repetitive. It actually had whole sections reprinted word for word, but in italics, as the character remembered a conversation or the sensations. Maybe people in a tortured relationship do relive a moment over and over, but don't make me do it. Near the end, when the stubborn, self-centered,but handsome sexy man is walking out, I'm thinking "Good. I hope he stays away. He's not good enough for her." Yet, she throws aside her pride and goes after him anyway. You know after 200 pages, they're going to get together one way or another. Very quickly, at the end, the man does dome to the shocking revelation that he is pig-headed and a fool. They make up and ride off into the sunset, each allowing the other to have a life choice, but both making compromises. They live happily ever after, Meanwhile, the police case is solved, everyone gets what's coming to them, jail or true love, buckles and titles. (Did you know a rodeo groupie is called a "buckle bunny"? It was new to me.) It was okay. But I don't want a steady diet of romances. |
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