Heaven in a Dinky Dinghy

Looking for Heaven?
I've gotten a glimpse of it on the St. Clair River.

Come ride with me.
Let's make some waves, and find some freighters.

Leonard Slatkin

Hey Detroit.
I'm crazy about the new guy in town.
Maestro Leonard Slatkin.
He's the one in the tuxedo, the man with the baton standing in front of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra.

He's the fella with fire and passion and thunder and lightening who's hopping around on the pedestal as he waves his arms and creates musical magic on stage with our D.S.O.

(I think you're going to love him too.)


Because of my job at WWJ it was my distinct pleasure to watch Mr. Slatkin teach a little
"conducting class" to a group of local kids before last Saturday night's concert at MeadowBrook.
He was great with those kids.

And the D.S.O. concert after the class was INCREDIBLE.
It was called "A Russian Spectacular."
And it was.
Spectacular.
Standing ovations galore.
Excitement.
Drama.

And a bazillion "bravos."

I loved watching him.
I enjoyed talking to him.
It was fun seeing the crowd go wild.


He's the best I've ever seen.
He makes our symphony the best I've ever heard.
He makes sitting in the audience FUN.

Here's a little bit of video I shot during the class with the kids:

It’s been a while since I’ve written, but to be honest…there’s been nothing much to write about.
Summer has been good. Sunny. Hot. And wet enough so that my flowers aren’t wilting like they usually do in July.

Today though, was a very special day.
Today in Detroit, at Mt. Olivet Cemetery on Detroit’s Northeast side, they held the first ever

Mt. Olivet Sunrise Fun Run.
I got my three sisters together at the crack of dawn….and we went to the cemetery, paid our $23 dollars each, and trekked a mile and a half through that beautiful cemetery at 8 am.

The weather was gorgeous.
The runners and walkers were so nice and in such a good mood.

And the pancakes and sausages afterwards were wonderful.

And it was just FUN.

Something we've never done before.

Something healthy.

And for a good cause.
It was a fundraiser for Make A Wish.
It was a good day.
Oh.
And before we left…we went and said a prayer at my dad’s spot.

I miss him so much.

And it’s been 30 years.

Rocking and Rolling

The weather has been pretty scary around here lately.
Sunday, it was sunny, hot and humid...and then, suddenly, BAM!
80 mile an hour winds hit my little town.
The storm only lasted about 15 minutes, but it was scary.
There was some property damage.
No injuries, thank goodness.
Thousands of people were left without electricity.
It's been several days now since the storm, and some people still don't have their power back.

Mother Nature.
A force to be reckoned with.

There's no arguing with her.
No trying to fight her.
No sense suing her.

We've just gotta roll with the punches.
And we were socked pretty good on Sunday.

Small Town Life

I live in a little town.
It's a place where people know your name.
They know your kids.
They know your business.
It's a little town with a lot of good people.

And it's a place where holidays like Memorial Day mean a lot.

Here's a video of Monday's Memorial Day parade.

(My kid is in the band playing the trombone. )


This is 10am on a holiday morning.

Yet, as you can see, bunches of people are up and at 'em, marching down 32 Mile Road to the cemetery to pay tribute to men and women who gave "the last full measure" in war.
Some things DO matter.

I love this parade.
And the speeches, and the music.
And all the faces of all those people.
I love the tractor at the end of the video.
And that little kid on the scooter.

In a world full of baloney, and bluster and phonies, Romeo is still real.

Really wonderful.

Blue Eyed Blessings

Mother’s Day

This is one of my favorite holidays of the year.
I enjoy it more than Christmas.
And much more than Halloween, or New Year’s Eve, or my birthday.

It’s Mother’s Day.

The day when my two princes,
(or chimps as I used to refer to them) are unusually nice to me, and take me out to breakfast, and buy me little gifts and cards, and hug me with their man-arms, and their razor stubble, tell me that they love me.

None of us is delusional.
Those boys know my many flaws and failures inside out.
In fact, they positively LOVE making fun of me.
Preferably in public.

I am not delusional.
I know I could have done better.
I also know that these princes are not perfect.
I failed them in a lot of different ways.
They have their faults and they have much growing up yet to do.
But in them I see the structure of fine individuals.
Handsome. Sensitive. Strong. Caring and loving.

I was married for seven years before I got pregnant.
I thought (and my doctor thought) it wasn’t ever going to happen.
But it did.
Twice.

And they are the best things that ever happened to me.
I would do anything for them.
God, kids, I love you.

Noise

I am fascinated by addictions and compulsions.
We all have them.

I eat too much.

Others drink too much.
Some are hooked on dope.
For others their "jones" is work, exercise, the Internet, gambling, video games, sex, plastic surgery, or porn.
I'm sure there are dozens more possiblities.

But lately, I've run into something different.
Compulsive talking.
Is there such a thing?

I think there is.

This past week, I've been witness to several alleged "conversations" which were NOT conversations.

They were speeches.
Monologues.
One way, extemporaneous presentations.
Opinions and details.
Clauses and adjectives.
For forever and ever.

How can someone talk for 20 minutes (20 MINUTES!) about something, without ONCE seeking some kind of input, or feedback, or "affirmation" of some kind from another?

Why doesn't it occur to some people that they've stopped communicating?

Do they care?

Or are they just compelled to talk.


In my college journalism classes (for radio) we were taught to keep the length of our stories to 45 seconds.

One of my teachers used to make us stand on one leg while we were making oral presentations. As soon as we had to steady ourselves by putting down our other foot, we had to end our speech. She said that exercise would teach us about the average person's attention span.

Communicating is supposed to be "communion" of some kind.
It's supposed to be an alternating current.
Give and take.
Sharing.
Caring.

Reciprocity.


One way conversations.
I think that's what blogs are for.

I am Living With a Maniac

In fact, we all are.



I am reading a remarkable book.
"A New Earth."




It's a book that has really "snapped my neck."
Made me look at things in a new way.


It's a book about the ego.


About how we all have this little narcissistic voice in our heads that constantly "talks" about "what I want,
what I need, what I don't like," and on and on and on.
I believe this book is revolutionary.

I wish everyone could/would read it.


The lesson is important.
(and, at times, difficult to "plug in" to real life.)

But it just makes so much sense.

And I think the book points the way to contentment and joy.
Even here on Earth.
Even now.

Especially now.

This book is important.


ps. Just wanted to add one of my favorite quotes here.
It sort of applies.

Finish each day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities no doubt have crept in;
forget them as soon as you can.

Tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.
This day is all that is good and fair.
It is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on yesterdays.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Winter of Our Discontent

Have you ever felt grief over the weather?
Have you ever grieved springtime?

I have.
And I am.

I am mourning the absence of the grass.
The lack of sunshine.
I miss the rain.
I miss gentle breezes.

I miss taking my dogs for a walk on the farm.
I want to ride my bike, and I want to put my rollerblades on and skate at Stoney Creek.
I want to go swimming.
I want to drift in my husband’s little fishing boat down the St. Clair River.
I want to dig in my garden.
I want to feel the sun’s warmth on my face and on my skin.

I want to sweat.

I know.
“Don’t wish your life away.”

I know.
“For everything there is a season.
For everything there is a purpose under Heaven.”

I know all that.
But for God’s sake Spring, please come home for Easter.

I cannot wait to celebrate you home.

I Love You, I Hate You , I Love You

I wanted to spank my son yesterday.
The one who's 16 and who is six feet tall.
Oh and maybe wring his neck too.
And I wanted to hug him and never let him go.


He had a high school band competition yesterday.
He asked if he could drive our good car to the high school (three blocks away.)
Sure. No problem.
He was all dressed up in his concert band "tuxedo" and bow tie looking very adult and handsome.


The only thing is, his girlfriend is in the high school band too.
After the concert he decided to drive her home.
She lives on a beautiful little winding road in a very nice, quiet little neighborhood.

The snow is piled high and the ice is thick on the road in her neighborhood.

After he dropped her off, he was apparently going too fast for the wintry conditions.
No.
There is no "apparently" about it.
He was going too fast.
Was too careless.
Too stupid.

The car skidded and landed on its side in a three foot ditch.

He didn't hit anyone. (Thank God.)
And he wasn't seriously hurt. (Although he had to crawl out the passenger side of the car to get out.)


We had to wait about an hour for the tow truck to come, and drag the car out.

The sheriff's deputy on the scene talked to him.
His dad talked to him.

And after we got home I screamed at him.

I hated him so much for being so young and careless and stupid.

But he's not stupid.
He's just young.
And he was full of remorse.

And after things settled down last night, we sat in the family room, and watched a movie together...my son, my husband and me.

And my son put a pillow on my lap, put his head on the pillow, and sprawled out on the couch for the duration of the film.

We were all just so grateful to be together. And to be ok...for the moment.

God, I love that big, blonde haired "goof."

Please God, protect him from himself.

Three Things to Think About

I've just visited one of my favorite places on the web, and the writer asked readers to consider answering these questions.


What gave me unexpected pleasure?

What am I proudest of today?

What did I do for someone else today?


1. Unexpected pleasure?
A gentleman (about 50-ish) was ushered into the newsroom where I work. He'd heard an interview I'd done with the Mayor of Detroit. He said to me, "I've never heard such pointed questions in an interview before." He shook my hand. He was looking at me with such respect. That look gave me a rush of deep, unexpected pleasure.
(Ok. Don't say it. I KNOW it sounds egomaniacal.
But only because it IS egomaniacal.

: )
Just let me enjoy my sin of pride for a few seconds, ok?


2. I am proudest of the fact that, although I strayed off my diet HORRIBLY yesterday, I am back on track today.

3. In terms of doing something for others, I am sending my nephew a little gift for his just announced marriage plans. God bless him as he starts this "adventure."

Love wholeheartedly, be surprised, give thanks and praise--then you will discover the fullness of your life.

-Brother David Steindl-Rast




I saw this quote today when I opened my AOL homepage.

I thought to myself....ok.

It's good advice.

Love wholeheartedly.

But it's not what I'd call "happy advice."

Loving wholeheartedly is not the road to happiness.

It is the road to pain and heartbreak.



Many of the people I have loved "wholeheartedly" have been busy

getting sick, dying, taking new jobs, or moving far away.



One of them has done that very thing in the last week.



Loving wholeheartedly has broken my heart.

Doesn't seem right.

But that's the way it is.

Happy New Year

New Year's Eve used to be a holiday I hated.
I went to a big party one year.
It was at a huge, swanky hall in the northern suburbs.
Hundreds of people were there.
The women wore gorgeous, low cut evening gowns.
(Mine was a floor length, peach colored halter dress. I can still see it.)
The men wore suits and party hats.
Everyone seemed intent on getting drunk as fast as they could.
There was music and loud laughter, and "dancing."

Everyone was smooching (sloppily) at midnight.
And then, hours later, many of them were off to try to drive home in a drunken stupor.
It was surreal.
An evening of desperate partying.
People were trying so hard to have "mandatory" holiday fun.
It was depressing.


But now that I am older, I celebrate New Year's Eve differently.
I stayed home last night and watched "The Twilight Zone" marathon on the Sci-Fi Channel.
(!)

In between those wonderful old TV shows, I managed to look back at some important things I accomplished in 2007.
And I tried to forgive myself for my failures. (Many.)

I am looking forward to the new year with hope.

I'm hoping to become a better person in 2008.

I want to be a better woman.

I want to lose weight and be able to slip into my pink suit by Easter.
I want to become more physically fit, and be able to walk three miles in 40 minutes.

I want to do some volunteer work and make a difference in my community.
I want to read more books.
I want to do more writing and reporting.
I want to learn to fish.
I'd like to learn how to clean, and COOK the fish that I catch.
I'd like to learn how to shoot clay pigeons at Algonac State Park.
I want a cleaner house with a freshly painted kitchen.
I want to meet new people and have quiet, meaningful conversations with them.
I want to make a difference in some one's life.

I would like to love, and be loved.


And so I look forward to 2008 with hope.

Things can get better.

Maybe the world and the Michigan economy can get better.

Maybe even I can be better.