Embrace The Suck

At the risk of being redundant, I've got to say that there hasn't been much good news lately. Bombs are falling in Iraq, people are starving in Darfur, and Lake Tahoe is burning up. According to the 6:00 news it seems the world is on brink of the proverbial Inferno. I'm not sure that there is a way to stop the fall. But the story that I have become fixated on, weird and depressing as it is, is the story about the missing pregnant lady in Ohio. And if I, a complete stranger who lives hundreds of miles away, can't stop thinking about it, what must be happening in the town where she lived. Call me an optimist. Call me naive. Call me stupid. But even in the face of history repeating itself on an all too common basis, I really didn't want to believe that the boyfriend/father had anything to do with her disappearance. In fact, I would rather have believed that a tornado picked up the lady, and a group of singing munchkins and flying monkeys deposited her lifeless body in ...

Back when I started this blog, my priest suggested to me that the Internet was not a good place to make confessions. He said if I got to the point in my online journaling where I felt a confession coming on, to stop everything and give him a call. I suspect he has better things to do with his time than salve a wanna-be writer's savage soul. I'm going to blatantly ignore his advice and go right to the heart of the matter ... I think I'm a cleptomaniac. Before I plead my case, however, let me tell you that I pride myself on honesty. I've told enough off-white untruths in my lifetime that one day, I said, "that's it, no more" and have rarely strayed from that personal moral boundary. Perhaps it is this deep-seated sense of telling the truth that is eating away at my conscience; it is the reason I need to get this petty thievery off my chest. You know when you go to a doctor or dentist's office that there are magazines sitting on the table to look through ...

When was the last time you were in the MacDonald's drive through lane behind a pirate ship? I agree, it doesn't happen very often, but it happened to me this morning. Luckily I had my camera and trusty notebook with me and was able to hurredly switch from my normal every day persona to that of Mary, Super Journalist. I didn't have time to change into a tan raincoat and fedora (actually I don't even own this kind of attire), I just jumped out of the car and started taking pictures as the pirate ship tried to manuever around and under the clearance bar. Naturally, when you see a pirate ship there are bound to be pirates around. So I am not exactly sure why I was surprised to see, as I rounded the corner of the building, a man decked out from head to toe in pirate garb. He looked like the real thing; not quite as good looking as Johnnie Depp, but swashbuckling just the same. When I asked permission to take his picture, he posed bucanner-style and presented me with his bes...

There are days I have trouble remembering things. Sometimes it's relatively little things like where I put my keys or glasses. On other occasions I have trouble recalling where I parked my car. It kind of scares me when I realize the high pitched squeal I'm hearing in the back of the house is the tea kettle I left on HI in the kitchen. Oops! I've heard from a lot of people recently that forgetting is something that goes along with the agin process. It has been explained away by stress, menopause, medications, misfiring brain synapses and, of course, the one thing all of worry about, early onset dementia. I'm glad to know it's not just me. That little piece of knowledge doesn't help me find things, but it's good to know I'm not alone in my forgetfullness. I read an article in Newsweek that there is a test that can determine if you have Alzheimers. The point being that if you start medication as soon as possible you can slow, not cure, the disease. I'v...

I don't pay a lot of attention to the TV news. Even though I might one day call myself a journalist, days go by without me looking at anything in the daily paper other than the Jumble. I haven't really buried my head in the sand so much as I've become selective about how much negative energy I let in under my skin. Let's face it, one can only hear so many stories about war, death, tornadoes that destroy whole towns, kidnappings, celebrities going to jail, and politicians not going to jail before she has to throw up her hands and say "enough". I asked my journalism teacher why the press is so focused on the negative and, sadly, his response was because that is what sells. Wouldn't it be nice to think that there is enough positive stuff going on around the world that people would pay to read about it? I'm a bit of a Pollyanna, but I think it would work. Alas, I'm also enough of a cynic to wonder if there's that much good left on this crazy planet...

Just after I posted our thoughts on marriage, I received this ad from a friend. I think it should be added to the list, just in case it strikes a chord with someone. Being a Birkenstock lover myself, I think it has some value to be considered. "Nationwide study shows uncomfortable shoes lead to divorce." Well, we don't actually have any research that proves this theory. But we believe it. Happy feet make happier Dads. Happier Dads make for happier families. Happier families lead to fewer divorces. Makes sense to us. We'll do the research later. That's us. Saving the institution of marriage one pair of sandals at a time. Happy Father's Day. ©2007 Birkenstock Distribution USA, Inc.P.O. Box 6140Novato, CA 94948

I haven't been a Nanny in more years than I was one. Yet, I felt a familiar sense of excitement when I saw 6 tree-trimming trucks and equipment drive into our neighborhood. I was both thrilled and curious to discover that the trucks parked in the vacant lot behind our house. The buzzing sound of chain saws in action compelled me to take a closer look. Doing so, I was reminded of a little hand in mine as we set off for one of our many "truck watching" adventures. I was also interested to see how many trees would be felled; what would be left of one of the few remaining verdant oases in our neighborhood. Mostly, however, I was worried that one tree in particular had been marked for destruction. An aside (stick with me, here): Lately, I've been looking for trees to photograph for a book I have in mind. It is an ABC book (I love ABC books) with all the letters formed by tree branches. I haven't gotten too far because, as you might expect, its easy to find a branch-sh...

“A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year.” Paul Sweeney My dad doesn't seem to want to wake up today. He roused himself at his normal time and got dressed for church, but he didn't make it very far past his napping chair. I worry that there's something wrong physically, but my guess is that his need for sleep is more of an emotional escape. How many times have I just crawled up under a blanket, assumed the fetal position, and prayed for blessed relief from memories or sadness. I think I recognize the signs. Sixty-six years ago today, on a distant Hawaiian island, surrounded by family, friends, the smell of Pikake blossoms and other tropical flowers, my mom and dad were married. My mom has been gone for four years, but that doesn't make the memories of that day go away; some things remain in clear focus even when you can't remember what happened yesterday. Sometimes it helps to...

Part III: Irish Dancing The only thing better than having a six year old in the house again (see Part II) is having one's granddaughter come to town. The transition from entertaining a shy kindergardner to a thoroughly modern, make-up wearing, on-the-verge-of-teenager sophisticate was a bit of a challenge, but when I see Ashley Megan walk through a jet concourse my heart skips a beat. Her energy is infectious and, seems never-ending (Maybe because I go to bed too early?). She can talk up a blue streak about things I have long forgotten or have no clue about. Who knew there's a difference between "going out with," "dating," and "going steady"? Or the fact that mascara now comes in $40 tubes. (What happened to the little girl who used to wear Tinkerbell lipstick?) If Gabrielle looked at me with a kind of wonderment, as if even though I was a grown up she judged that I had fun potential, Ashley's sideways glances were a wee bit harsher. On more t...