Life as it arrives and dreams as they happen

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For The Record – My George is Thoroughly Good!

Okay I admit it – growing up I was more  an Adam Ant Goody Two Shoes, than a Bad to The Bone George Thorogood, however it doesn’t mean as I got older I didn’t rock the quarry.  I am glad I have seen both sides now as I age (yup, hello  Carole King if you are listening), I’d like to think it gave me the well rounded sensibility for life  I enjoy, and still learn from.  Seeing things as they are, as they could be and as they were, is a journey in itself.  That is why today I laughed.

My youngest who is walking down the blvd of 30 came over to bring her daughter for a grandma visit,  and heard my speakers cranking out Bad to the Bone.  She smiled and said, “Hey listening to Megamind huh?”

>>>insert laughter>>>

“No I said, it is classic rock.”

Funny how things change, and are seen so differently by generations yet to come.  Who knew the classic bad boy guitar riffs of my era, would now be colored vividly in a cartoon, with mother approval and laughter.  But then again, who thought Crazy Train would be a family commercial either! Oh Ozzy, what a shot in the dark such a guess would have been.

Maybe however,  if you need a way to have a meaningful conversation, such an interlude could be a  good way to listen to each other, and not just the music.  What we see, take for granted and have lived, is like random windmills turning through our minds, even if  that too disappeared into the Thomas Crown Affair, in an effort to take the the Sting out of once Dusty nostalgia.  I guess it boils down  not to the lyrics of the song, as much as the musical  we carry in our soul, which is the personal soundtrack to our memories.  That should never be taken for granted, and needs to be shared.

My father loved to sing in the car and more times than I can count, he was looking over four leaf clovers that he had never seen before. I can still see him behind the wheel of our vintage white Chevrolet station wagon, which mom had made brown curtains for, and I stuck orange fizzie tablets into the ash tray, and almost failed to see puberty before the mess was cleaned up .  Those were the days my friend, and they ended too soon.  However, they are still luckily what made me who I am –  gotta love those clovers.  Today however, the fruit from the family loom sings about apple bottom jeans, and see my grandson in his car seat when he first felt the rhythm of music, his life, and the ability to express it.  Someday I will tell him about it and laugh, especially since it was far from the American apple pie youth I knew, with or without the Chevy.  It will though be the only world he knows, and it will always be a connection between us, long after someone named Flo evolves like George, takes a rider and becomes something else all together in the media madness that will inevitably continue.

The first thing a child hears in life aside from the voices of those who love him or her is a lullaby, a song or a musical piece to calm  and ease them into sleep.  The notes of such a song  more like handwritten words from an angel, are passed into the classroom of life, to make sure the innocent soul knows they are never alone. Yes, a thoroughly good mission for a world that is sometimes bad to the bone.

If there is one connecting thread in the tapestry of humanity it is music,  the cords that bind us, the staff we assemble, the notes we pass, and the harmony we struggle to live within.  Next time my daughter is over I might pull out  some Bobby Goldsboro, and let her listen to where Honey lived and died, no different than many friends and family we have lost, and the emotions we share.  Then of course, I will need some AC/DC, because after all, staying current and charging ahead even if it is dirty and cheap, is after all the way we roll now …. right?




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Better to have an empty something, or a full nothing?

Growing up hearing the eternal optimism of the glass being half full vs. half empty, it was a given I would belly up to the bar of life, choose the half full glass and take  a shot at whatever was waiting behind door number 3. It was only after reaching adulthood, motherhood, and living in the hood, that I discovered there was nothing behind door number 3! That knowledge did however open up a door even scarier, one no one likes to answer, and most keep locked for their sanity. Why do we remain in a relationship that is empty, for no other reason than it is there. Why can’t we move ahead to the solid something just waiting to be had – that unknown, which we are unable to see or feel?

Insecurity is such an all encompassing force, if the military could find a way to harness it we would never need to worry about war again. Just as the special cloth a child carries for security and warmth, blanketing them like a force field against the world, the insecurity that blankets us when we know we are alone inside, forces us to field everything else in our lives away.  The result is such isolation, depression, pain and loneliness we forget how to live.

When we hold something, it becomes real and so do we (yo Mr. Rabbit), and face it, we all love to open presents right. The weight or value, warmth or life something has validates us. Sadly, even after it has died or becomes no longer useful, we still find a need to hold it near for the memories and an internal need.  Yearbooks that held our friends and youth forever stay on shelves and in the attic, bringing us into life when they are opened, a piece of clothing or perfumed smell brings a long lost loved one back into our heart, reminding us of a better time.  Empty somethings like these are fleeting, and can serve a purpose if we see where life has since put us, where we need to go, and yes, validating a part of our soul.  However, when it is an empty relationship, there is never a validation; there is instead a slow lingering death of body and soul, that like quicksand eventually chokes  life away, from who we were and who we might have been.

No one starts out in a relationship with a lover, spouse, family member or child expecting to be left holding an empty shell of hope.  But because it is hope, and hope is the traveling cousin to love on our journey, we believe things will eventually work out, in time the other person will come around, see our point of view, see how much we love them, see what we know could be.  Basically we just want them to see us the way we see ourselves, and are prepared to wait until they do.  However, life is a game of free will and in any game there are two players, and with both wanting their hearts desire,  more times than not it will have nothing to do with the person left holding the bag – empty as it can become.

Standing back personally and looking at the shattered aftermath of the empties in my life, I realized there was no deposit on them, but some did have recycle value.  Seeing the mistakes, the unadmitted personal fault and dreams that were more mine than anyone else’s, I find myself looking for the first time into the abyss of something.  I know even though I have two free hands to grasp it, it may not be there the first, second or  even the tenth time I reach, and I will fall. Nevertheless, picking yourself back up is a something we all take for granted, like breathing. There is nothing empty in self reliance, enjoyment in life around us or our ability to make others happy.  Holding those abilities will validate us.  Even if  they are not  emotional highs or physical thrills, they shouldn’t be written off.

When I visualize the concept of holding onto an empty nothing, just because of the fear of letting go, taking a chance on that unknown something, I see a corn field heading into fall.  The stalks are gone, random dried corn cobs and leaves scatter in the dirt, waiting for frost and alone  in the center is a faded scarecrow.  Looking across the nothing he is guarding what is no longer there, and still smiling as if nothing has changed.

Being scared is nothing we ever crow about, but it is for the birds in a world with so much to offer and so many opportunities for growth, friendship and self improvement.  There is a reason frost comes before snow, it is the warning to get everything in order and prepare to be warm.  The same can be said for the little voice that calls to us, as we struggle to live in loveless, abusive, painful and empty situations – the warm is out there for a bountiful harvest, we just need to take a chance, and let the seeds fall from our hands into the unknown with faith they will grow.

My new novel, of demonic proportions in sound! Get it now and make a difference at the same time.

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Not everything checked balances …

I love when business and professional people ask if we have checked something. This can be everything from a math problem, bank deposit or even luggage.  Indeed, maintain harmony in the universe and be sure you are a part of the balance. I guess someone forgot to mention that includes life too.

Somewhere down the line, all of us have either seen or been the wearing party of the restroom toilet paper,  either attached to a shoe (the most painless) or on our clothing (snap). This scene is humiliating by itself, but always gets a laugh followed by, Didn’t they notice? Didn’t they check? In addition, it insures we will quickly do a balancing act to hide, or remove the tell tail of evidence, all with a flush of color to the face. Most of the time when this happens there is a laugh factor, maybe because there is more than just one of us in the room.

The new world order of normal finds a large majority of us working from home, behind laptops and flat screens, in the silent break rooms of our house, where the only dry cleaning needed, is  using a towel to wipe off counter space after our PB&J lunch. In many ways, these cubicles in the clouds are a win for all sides, and have untold value in productivity and availability.  The downside however, is in the balance of who we are to the faceless society we work with daily.

I have written on the trolls and cyber bullies that make it a mission in life to attack names on a screen, knowing they can get away with rude and hurtful comments, for no other reason than they can. However, in the work environment we are seeing develop from the ashes of mother boards, transistors and diodes needing an OHM meter, there is more than just troll behavior, which left unchecked  disturbs the balance of the business and emotional system.

As children when we passed the Do you like me mark yes or no notes in class or recess, we hoped to get a check back, that insured we were accepted, and the anticipation was intense. Now, as adults, we  do it in real time, as well as in video feedback on Skype, and it is just as fearful and satisfying as  the playground, we know where we stand. That is if the system and those in it are balanced.

What is becoming lost in the world of telecommutes and video boardrooms, is the human touch, that do you like me feeling, which is found in a shared story or laugh, a mutual selection at the vending machine, or yes even leaving the restroom, hoping there is no paper trail proving we had been there. So when the only voice you share with your fellow staff and employees is in an email, Skype or instant message, take a moment and check what you are saying – or what you are not saying. Tone and silence are very close cousins in the cyber world.

Put yourself in the picture of another person’s daily silence, with only an occasional text or email contact that validates you as a person, as well as what you are able to offer, either in friendship or employment.  Look at the balance of the day, have you checked in with an affirmative or pleasant effort? Have you ignored those screen names – invisible faces around you, assuming they are fine, and will reach out if they need you? Sometimes those with the greatest need do not reach out, because they already fear they are not accepted or wanted.

Success in this new computer commute will only come when there is a sincere effort to reach into the silence, and include one another as if they were in an office down the hall, or on another floor. If this is lost, in either the business or personal relationship, in time it will lose complete balance in a new silent temple of Babel, and history will repeat itself.

Working from home or communicating via text and Skype, are wonderful conveniences in life, that should free up time and give us more freedom – however, the ability to ignore, assume and be rude should not be a part of that personal freedom, and need to be consistently checked, as we balance our day. Just because you are not in the same room with someone doesn’t mean your silence or attitude aren’t.



My new novel, of demonic proportions in sound! Get it now on

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Just because you have shoes, doesn’t mean you have a soul

I love shoes. High heels, bows and exotic colors are better than a drug. However, since leaving the working world, and recovering from a serious car accident, I don’t wear them like I used to.  Once my shoes defined me, and at any time, three or four pair would be in my car after a quick change. I had a pair that coordinated with all my favorite suits and dresses, and my daughters knew the sound of three inch heels across our oak kitchen floor.  What a way to walk!

But those shoes never defined who I was, they just accented my already designed body, sometimes adding sparkle to my soul. The soles of my shoes may have truly walked the walk, while I talked the talk, but it was who I really was, the barefooted free spirit, that carried my soul in those days of ago.  A time when I was well heeled, enjoying and sharing the luxuries of life with my family.  Sadly though, more than once I did come across those who were happier slipping their patent leather stiletto into my back, than actually having my back – guess some things never change.

Image is more than the glass reflection we see in a mirror, our actions are mirrored by what is deep inside the closet of our heart, even if no one asks and we never tell – something I readily identify with now, as I look at my shoes more than I wear them these days, feeling life as I walk against pavement, grass or snow. The path we walk is the destiny of our soul, regardless of closet our shoes sit in, or the shelf we have been put on.

Recently I attended a motivational class designed to make every moment in life matter. The speaker was a wonderful man, obviously well-centered in his life, honest, compassionate, and very driven to bring the essence of communication and professionalism into the workplace.  God love him for his efforts – where is that huge diamond vision LED Screen from the Apple commercial when we need it letting the world hear the message as the giant hammer goes flying?  I found it tragic though, that such human exchanges of compassion, concern, and camaraderie we should do without thought, have now been relegated to a paid classroom experience.  Excuse me while I sigh, waiting for the other shoe to drop, along with my mouth.

Every day in politics and business we hear about the way things are not working, and when there is something good it is elevated almost to a Mother Cabrini status as wonderful, pay it forward and great! Why, just because someone didn’t walk by? Because the loaf in their loafers pointed out, we are all in this life together and acted accordingly? News should be something that changes us, not remind us of the obvious.  But then again, the last time I saw a shoe store I can’t remember either, everything is hidden behind the impersonal cloud of html that delivers our $39.95 discounted soles and lets us kick up our heels, where no one knows what we do and very few remember there is no place like home.  Maybe that is part of it – if we were more accountable for our lives like we once were, I am sure we would live them a little better again as well.

Too many times, we end up with a foot in our mouth after saying or typing the wrong comment to someone, but few take true responsibility for it anymore. It is easier to take a class and learn how to be nice, hide behind emails and texts, only occasionally exercising such actions to the world, and when we do we are usually dressed up, looking our best with polished shoes that have had the soles checked for quality.  Life would be so much nicer if we were just comfortable with ourselves in casual but honest commitment, putting our best face forward, accepting each other and offering all we could to lighten someone’s load, because those souls never need to be checked for quality.