Choose COURAGE over FEAR

This quote is applicable to our world today. I don't understand why color and religion and gender and ethnicity continue to divide us. We are all human. We are all children of a kind, merciful and loving God. I know it's not possible to literally walk around in someone else's skin, but I think today is a good day to be reminded of what is important. I appreciate these beautiful words given about tolerance and humility, and hope I remember the words of a young, southern woman who chose courage over fear when she wrote these famous words. Thank you Harper Lee for reminding human beings that humanity can be found when we choose to see others for who they are on the inside.

The amazing Harper Lee on the To Kill A Mockingbird movie set with the charming, and ever so debonair, Gregory Peck who played the great Atticus Finch.

Holiday Blues Pt. 1 - Jolly Old Saint Nicholas

Jolly Old Saint Nicholas

Lean your ear this way! 

Don't give me that smiling smirk 

I have a lot to say; 

I’ve had a cold for way too long; 

It’s on my nerves old man, 

Tell me it will go away; 

By tomorrow if you can. 

When the clock is striking twelve, 

I'm not quite fast asleep, 

Coughing, sneezing, blowing my nose, 

And my ear is starting to leak; 

All the medicine I can take
Sitting in a row;
Hasn’t really worked quite yet, 

Believe me, I would know. 

I just want to feel relief 

From this lousy cold; 

No more boxes of Kleenex please 

My brain is ready to explode; 

As for you, my little friend 

You aren’t very bright; 

Make me better, old Santa Claus, 

Or I’m gonna pick a fight.
-T.B. Williams

-Lyrics adapted

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Fun fact: Benjamin Hanby, the man who wrote 'Jolly Old Saint Nicholas', helped his father, William Hanby, with the Underground Railroad. Today, the Hanby Home is a part of the Ohio Historical Society

“Underground Railroad - William Hanby House,” Teaching Columbus. Web. 21 December 2015. (citation found on TeachingColumbus.org)

Writing: Professional vs. Personal

On Grammar- Can you distinguish the difference between writing professionally and writing personally? The article linked to this post is a quick read and a great reminder when it comes to basic writing skills. If you can transition from a casual, informal text to a professional, formal business letter with ease, I applaud your writing skills.
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Let's look at two quick examples:

Is the following sign off appropriate to include in an email to your boss?

Thx! C U L8R! 

Or.....

Am I being overzealous if I include the following in a text to a close friend?

Thanks! See you later.

The first sign off is very informal and the second sign off, to some, may seem too formal. I think the best rule to follow is to make sure all of your professional emails, texts, memos and other forms of communication remain formal. When it come to informality, it is up to the individual. If your friends and family are content with the way you communicate, so be it.
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I will admit that I use proper grammar in all of my writing, including texts. However, I am making the attempt to loosen up a bit when I read informal messages/posts on FB, IM, IG, G+, etc. Grammar and punctuation errors make my teeth grind, but informal text and slang are a whole new ball of wax. I'll never be okay with 'cuz' and 'cause,' unless you are writing about saving the whales, but I do see the reasoning behind LOL and YOLO.
Language and expression are constantly changing. My 90 year old grandmother grew up using the word 'gay' to describe joy and happiness; we now use that term interchangeably when describing sexuality. Will we go back to using the word 'gay' to describe someone who is full of joy or will that definition become lost with future generations? Will it become a section in an Etymology book, explored by weirdos like me who are fascinated by the origin of words and phrases? I do believe it is safe to say that the English language is both torturous and tricky.
When it comes to grammar, there are endless rules and exceptions. A single word can be used as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb:

The painted painter paints paintings.

This example is an obvious stretch, but it shows the complexity that lies within language acquisition as well as learning a new language. Teaching the difference between

are, our, and hour

is a frustration I have personally witnessed as an educator.  As long as we progress and move forward when it comes to language and writing, future generations of English speakers will be just fine. If we remember the importance of using audience appropriate language, we will have done our job preserving this chaotic, yet beautiful concoction of words we claim.
In the spirit of our ever changing language, I may even use YOLO in a text one day. I mean, you only live once, right?

Morally Illuminated

I received a package on Tuesday that held a literary gift- the book 'Go Set A Watchman' by the great Harper Lee. I ripped that cardboard packaging open and started reading before the UPS driver drove off. To say I was excited is a major understatement. 
Let me explain ... My enthusiasm is based on two objectives: 
1.) 'To Kill A Mockingbird' (also written by Harper Lee) is my favorite book of all time. If Lee had not written it before I was born, I'd be convinced she had based the main character, Scout, on me. 
2.) After Mockingbird, Harper Lee said she would never write another novel. To now have another piece of literature written by her is simply delightful. (Side note- I fretted over whether or not to partake when the discovery was first announced, but that is a controversy I won't include here.)
So, after I ripped that sucker open, I flew through the first 20 pages and then realized I hadn't been inhaling or exhaling. (Okay, okay- so that's a whopper of a taradiddle, an exaggeration, and physically impossible. Just roll with the hyperbole people! Sheesh!) I put the book down for a bit, picked it up again, and then started over. This time, I breathed while reading and slowed down so I could enjoy the words, the details, the rhythm of the story, and the satirical dialogue between these characters I've grown to love. I haven't quite finished but I am savoring every, single page. And, in the words of the late Elizabeth Hardwick, I have thus far been 'morally illuminated'.

Literary Road Map

If you really, truly know me, then you know that 'To Kill a Mockingbird' is my favorite book of all time. The first time I read it, I was convinced that Harper Lee used me to create Scout's character. Each time I read it, I learn something new; it is, in essence, a road map that can take you from loathing and bigotry to innocence and love.

In a world full of hate, persecution, and racism, may we remember a female writer who took a stand during a time when racial injustice was rampant and wrote a book about a white man choosing to legally represent a black man he knew to be innocent. "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."-Atticus Finch
In celebration of Harper Lee's 89th birthday, let's take a break and let go of hate for just one day! #favoritebook #booknerd #gregorypeckasAtticus #OutofPrint

50 Shades of Grey = 1 Huge Problem

I have read numerous blog posts, articles, and news clips that have sewn a scarlet letter onto their seal of disapproval regarding Fifty Shades of Grey. The culminating stance is that a horrible message is being shared and the only outcome is a moral downfall. I've never read the books nor have I seen the movie, but to put myself above those who have read and/or seen the book/movie is hypocritical. In fact, if I start pointing and judging, I may as well insert myself into the biblical parable about casting stones. Don't get me wrong, I'm not condoning the books or the movie; I just think it is important to take a step back and look at media in general.

In a 5 minute sitting, I can flip the channels on the television and find sex, drugs, violence, abuse, addiction, and inappropriate language. It can be naively argued that what is on television is appropriate. I mean, it wouldn't be on the basic channels if it was negative and nasty, would it? Fifty years ago, married couples on television shows slept in separate beds; nudity was non-existence; the only thing close to violence was the comedic routine of The Three Stooges. There is a part of me that longs for a simpler time, but I'm also aware that moral agency is a freedom that cannot be suppressed.

With a major growth spurt in the world of technology, good things are happening. Poverty, illiteracy, and so many other challenges are getting the attention they deserve. Human beings are being human. It's beautiful. It's inspiring. Sadly, opposition in all things is an adage that won't go away. Insatiable, self-serving appetites have access to the same knowledge that is being used for good. They have a way of twisting and distorting truths; they can turn fiction into a reality; they will take the candle being used as a source of light and use your flesh to put it out. For them, darkness is a much easier place to hide.

I am aware of the good and bad in the world. I've tried living under the 'ignorance is bliss' canopy, but I've seen enough darkness to deny its existence. As I get older, I am becoming more aware of my moral compass; choosing my own path, however, is cake when compared to making sure those I love get started off on the right foot. Knowing that I have to gauge what is or is not appropriate on nearly every television channel is overwhelming. If I am worried about what young eyes are viewing on my watch, I probably need to step outside of myself long enough to give my ethical and moral self the same advice I'm giving to young children.

I'm not perfect; never have been and never will be. But if I've learned anything from the manure that hit the fan when feminism and decency and chivalry and moral codes came out of hiding when 50 shades was advertised, it is the simple idea that I am the one in control when it comes to what I read and what movies I see. Let's be honest, the world is no longer full of balloons and unicorns and free puppies; darkness and death and devastation are real. Sex sales and violence is imminent. But I'll be damned if I let my moral code escape my grasp because I'm caught up in the 'grey' areas of media.

So today . . . today I'm not casting stones or pointing fingers. In fact, I'm dumping the stones in my pockets. I don't want them to weigh me down while I'm playing with the last litter of free puppies.

Can it be, oh can it be? Another book from Harper Lee!

I keep thinking about Harper Lee and this 'other' book that is flooding the news. To Kill A Mockingbird has been my favorite book for as long as I can remember. I'm not even sure I can give an accurate estimate when it comes to the number of times I've read it. I'd be lying if I said I don't want to read it. Knowing she has another piece of literature sitting on a shelf makes my mouth water. But Harper Lee has been adamant about her intentions regarding the publication of another novel; she became reclusive because of the popularity of TKMB. She has published a few letters and stories, but nothing close to novel status. The only reason this new book has come to light is due to her failing health and the loss of her sister, who was also Lee's lawyer. 

This controversy has made me anxious. I have many genres of writing I'd like to publish, but I've also written things that will never be shared. For me, writing is therapeutic. I have a passion for putting pen to parchment. When I complete something, it is cathartic; that piece of writing is a part of me. I don't know that Harper Lee shares these same feelings. I cannot speak for her. I can only hope that the publishing of this novel will be done with the permission of one of the greatest writers of all time. 

Reset

Sometimes I need a reset, a fresh outlook, a new perspective. I get caught up in the frustration of not being able to handle things out of my control. I make mountains out of mole hills. I forget the simplicity of taking the time to appreciate the breathtaking moments that make life easier. Thankfully, my four legged friend knows when I need an intervention. She reminds me of the little things that hold profound significance: a long walk, a slow, scenic car ride, catching a corner of grass still touched by the sun, the wind in my hair, the sunrises and sunsets that color the sky, the darkness of night that quiets chaos.
Tonight, I opened the window, turned off the lights, and sat on the bed with Mia. I scratched her ears and she licked my hand. Her nose discovered new smells as the wind rustled through the trees. We sat there in silence while gazing out into the beautiful night. It was quiet. It was peaceful. And, once again, Mia reminded me that joy can be found in the little things. It was exactly what I needed - a reset. 

Words hold limitless power

Words hold limitless power. They convey feelings and emotions that are otherwise difficult to communicate. The choice of a word or words can create or destroy dialogues, begin or end debates, hide or reveal truths, and begin or end relationships. Writing is either therapeutic or torturous and the strength of words both lighten and darken the depths of my soul. Strong words can make you strong. 

Completely Conceivable and Perfectly Possible

It is completely conceivable and perfectly possible that I am overpoweringly obsessed with quotes.
Good quotes.
Deep, thoughtful quotes. 
Quotes that make me think.
And feel.
And inspire. 
Quotes that simplify and edify truths I holds dear. 
Quotes that touch a nerve and even compel me to act. 

Aristotle would be proud to know that all three of his appeals embrace these magical messages. 
Quotes are proof that there is great power in words. Call me crazy, but maybe, just maybe, reading and writing should not be optional or voluntary; they are vital to our very existence. 

Raw and Prickly

I'm not sure I fully understand what it means to be an adult; in fact, I'm uncomfortably close to knocking on the door to my 40's and I am still discovering the responsibilities that come along with adulthood.
If I were to rewind back 20 years, I'm not sure I'd recognize my own self. I had my life planned out by the time I graduated from high school. My compass was pointed in the right direction: college, mission, marriage, kids. They were stages in my life that I sincerely believed would simply fall into place.

Obviously, my life has not gone as planned. However, I would not change the way things have turned out. I'd love to take back some of the dumb things I've done, but I also know that my stupidity has taught me lessons I may not have cultivated any other way. I now recognize that I am only looking at a small part of the big picture. I've learned there is a greater purpose behind adversity. I also know I'm human. Tragedy and trials are difficult. Life can be disheartening and devastating. I have met the raw and prickly parts of my soul and am okay with the fact that I am still sifting through the wreckage.
The truth is that my time in life's kiln is not quite complete. I'm not sure I'll come out of the refiner's fire without any flaws, and I won't rise from the ashes as a perfect adult. However,  I do believe that that process will make me a better human. And right now, that is more than enough for me. 

Transcendentalize that!

The first time I read Thoreau's Walden Pond, I was a junior in high school. (I do believe a big shout out to the great Mr. Crooks is necessary.) My teenage brain could not understand why Henry David chose to live in a one room home in the middle of the woods. I was far too naive to fully understand the purpose. Fast forward a billion years and my adult brain thinks the man was a genius. I wouldn't want to be alone, but I'd love to get away from the chaotic, technology dependent world we live in. 

Thoreau moved to Walden Pond to live simply in nature and to discover what it could teach him. (Yes, transcendentalism is a legitimate argument.) Reading his masterpiece 20 years later has shed new light on the need to take the time to enjoy the little things, the simple things. And, despite the fact that cheese and horror will drip from this pun, I'm going to say it anyway - I'd like too 'Thoreau' myself into simplicity and peace. Transcendentalize that!

Like a Thief in the Night

 Alzheimer's destroys the mind - and in the process, annihilates the very self.  
 -J. Kluger

Like a Thief in the Night
It starts with the littlest of things. A misplaced set of keys. Putting the wrong date on a check. Forgetting an appointment. 

After a while, there are whisperings of the word 'dementia'. No one really thinks too much about it because as we age, our bodies and minds start to go. Death knows no boundaries. It is something we just know will eventually happen. 

The repetition grows old. You've heard the same story so many times you could tell it yourself. Holding a conversation is difficult because recent events are easily forgotten. But the past, it sticks around. It is detailed. It is familiar. 

But even those familiar details become blurred. Some of the story is still true. The rest of it is filled in with new places or people who have nothing to do with the story. 

Moments of clarity exist, but are rare. At least some of the memory is there. 

Keeping a routine becomes a necessity. Familiar people. Stay close to home. Don't go too far. 

Night becomes day. Day becomes night. Time altogether becomes irrelevant. The month, the year, the days of the week pile on top of each other. Understanding length of time is forgotten. 

Using the telephone becomes too difficult. The television has too many buttons. 

Pajamas stay on all day. Showering takes too much time. Brushing teeth and combing hair are not important.  
Behavior changes. The adult moves out and the child moves back in.

Names are lost, secrets are now buried. 
Laughter is gone and tears dry in place.
Blank stares. Hollow eyes. Thin cheeks. 
Weight is lost. Scent is lost. Sight is blurred. Taste is gone. 
Light is gone.

She is gone. 

He wants to go. 

He needs to go. 
He's gone; and now he is with she.
-T.B. Williams

Remover of Obstacles

While reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love, I became intrigued by the symbolism of the Hindu God Ganesh. So, last summer in D.C., I was elated when I found this wooden statue in a little store near our hotel. The storeowner was a kind man with peaceful eyes and a gentle heart. He inquired about my interest in Ganesh and I told him that I found the symbolism and message behind this Hindu God to be both interesting and inspirational. He paused, handed me a pencil and paper and asked me to write down a message: 

Peace 

Prosperity 

Harmony 

Wisdom 

Obstacle remover 

Good luck 

And then he paused one more time before saying, "The last part of Ganesh's blessing is of most importance to you. Good health."

I looked at him with tear-filled eyes and could only mutter a simple "thank you." He smiled, handed me the box he had put the statue in, and then turned to the next customer with a "May I help you?" I quietly left the store, but will never forget that a man who knew nothing about me, taught me that no matter the race, religion or culture, humanity encompasses all. 

I hope to become like the kind shop owner who shares his love with each person who enters his door.

My weiner has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R........

I drove home from work today on my regular route. No changes, no detours, just a typical drive home. I live in a rather pleasant area. My brothers and I do think it is a bit "ghetto", but try to avoid using that term around our mom. 
Growing up we loved our home and our neighborhood: lots of kids, a big back yard, trees to climb, cul-de-sacs invented for night games, trampolines, bike rides, sledding, snow ball fights and forts and snow men. Basically, it was your typical suburb- but that was [25] yrs. ago. However, today . . . . well today was different. As I was turning the final corner on the street before I reached my house, there it was. A huge, gigantic, more-than-words-can-describe, hot dog on wheels. It was parked in the driveway of a neighbor. I don't know this neighbor. I know nothing of this neighbor. But sure enough- someone in that house drives a wiener. Someone wakes up in the morning, takes a shower, has a bowel of cheerios and then heads out to their wiener. Can you imagine the jokes? "How's your wiener,?" or "Nice buns," or how about "Pardon me, but do you have any grey poupon?" (A few from my brother) "How many miles to the gallon does your weiner get,?" or "Is that weiner a V6 or V8,?" or maybe "Where do you park your weiner?" - and his favorite - "So . . . where do you sit . . . at the tip?" And, last, but not least, when you cut someone off in traffic and they scream "DICK!" - they're correct!

Works Cited

Bailey, Trisha. "The Weiner Mobile." Web log post. Tirschk. Blogger, 08 Aug. 2005. Web. 09 Apr. 2015. This post was originally published on tirschk, my personal blog. Most of the text has not been changed. I added a few additional items and opted for a new title, but the rest of the article stays true to its original format.