How Architecture Relates To My Life

Hello!

My name is Truth. Unfortunately, Jenny isn't here so I'm going to be the co-writer today. As you know, (If you have read previous posts), my Aunt has mentioned a few blips about the wonderful game MINECRAFT. Though, much as changed from my youth, and now I am at my best. I have gone from using the game as a ''thingy to build stuff and blow up TNT.'' to an amazing architectural tool.

My high rises have gotten advanced. For example, just a few months ago, I built and completed a fully functioning hotel called the Purpl. Sounds pretty ordinary except for the name, (because, lets be honest, there are a OUTRAGEOUS amount of players in Minecraft) but this building was a breakthrough for me. It had everything to marvel at for days. Shopping centers, shows, food courts, About 200-some hotel rooms. Through all that though, the most important thing was the experience. I had a vision, a vision of a giant purple piano with neon signs and fountains that were as high as the sky (or at least 60 blocks).      (Upper pic) Purpl Hotel         (decorated for halloween)                                                        

How this related to me in real life? Well, it's because not everything I do is Minecraft. I have to deal with my schoolwork almost 12/5 on weekdays. Weekdays are honestly horrible for me, and I think I could say that for everyone. Yet, I think we all have some kind of relief on the weekends, no matter if you go down to the Cosmo (it's a hotel) and get an egg sandwich as big as your face, or you play video games, or spend hours in the bathroom playing Super Mario Bros, we all have some kind of happy place!

So, as off topic as I got, *deep breath* architecture  is my happy place, because I dream of becoming an architect, and I compare it to my life because I compare almost everything to architecture, for example, "Ugh, that tree is such a Fontainebleau (which is an eyesore on the strip even though it hasn't opened yet, even after eight opening dates *ugh*), to my Turnberry towers (which is the building that the Fontainebleau is blocking). People will look at me like I have a screw loose. That's OK! I bet everyone says weird comparisons like that every now and then.

My point is that not everyone is normal, and thats not a random cliche, it's the truth!

Has The Story Changed?

That was the question posed by Joe Terranova of the Fast Money Halftime Report, my daily dose of sage financial advice from my favorite experts.  He, of course, was referring to evaluating an equity.  My mind went to Anna.

Anna was born beautiful, smart, creative and amazing.   The minute I held her, tucked into a pink blanket at the hospital, I loved her.  When she was about four years old, she and I were playing outside, and my neighbor asked  if she was mine.  I explained that she was my friend’s daughter.  She winked at me and whispered, “But she’s really yours isn’t she.”  Before that moment I had thought that I thought of her as niece, but I guess I did have that, “Mom” thing for her.  “Yes,” I whispered back.

She and I did life together whenever we could, “Two big girls out on the town.”  Every year that passed, she was wise beyond.  And as she grew, friends and school activities took the front seat, but the bond, that I will never share with anyone else, remained.  I looked forward to her having a vocation, college, whatever she wanted to pursue.  After high school, I imagined that we’d get together from time to time, text always, she’d marry a wonderful man, have a satisfying career, children, and all the good that life offers.

Then there was that time when the story changed.  Around the age of seventeen, she began experimenting with drugs, most notably heroin.  When I found out, all I knew about heroin addiction was that the really bad and looser kids shot up.   She was a good kid.  She was raised in an upper-middle class environment.   How?  I did everything I knew to help her (also known as enabling/co-dependency) until it came to the point that my life was being destroyed.  Everyone did everything they could to help her (again — enabling).  Her cousin got her on the show Intervention.  They sent her to a top notch facility.  Didn’t work. 

For the last eleven years, I have been separated from her more often than not by either the drugs or the treatment.  In her way, she loves me, I know this, but I also know that she is not interested in a relationship with me.  Horrible as the addiction is, she’s still smart.  She understands our new story so much better than I do.  I try to communicate from time to time, text, call.  Sometimes she answers, but more often she doesn’t.  On occasion I’ll get an, “I love you” text, but if I reply, “Hey there.  How are you?”  Silence.  Once or twice a year, we do meet for a meal and it’s never awkward or uncomfortable, but each of our lives are very different now.  I don’t have a place in her’s and she doesn’t want a place in mine.  

So I have to ask God constantly to help me accept.  That little girl, who had a million dollar surplus in my emotional bank account, only made withdraws for years.   The question that Mr. Terranova asked about stocks, applies to an investment of time and love for me.  Yes, the story has changed.

I pray, I hope, that the story will change again.  “Two big girls on the town,” both matching the investment in the equity of our relationship.    

Can't Talk

Although everyone under 25 years of age will disagree with me here, it is my belief that real communication comes in the face to face spoken word, which includes both words and body language.  Nothing has ever confirmed my belief more than a recent bout of laryngitis.  After about four hours in my forced vow of silence, I started wondering what would happen if we only had so many words to use over a life time, and what if I’d used all mine up.  Then I started wondering what words I would never have said if I’d know this fate was to befall me.

Did everyone in my senior class need to know that Kathy Mae slept with the entire football team as a bonus for a game well played?  Kathy Mae and I did not travel in the same circle, so I really don’t know if this is true, however, don’t tell anybody, but I heard from some very reliable sources...

Did I really need to call Frances Belle Wilkinson “fat so” and “zit face” because she uninvited me to her pool party?  Wouldn’t it have been better to tell her “you’re mean?”  Two less words.

After three days of texting and e-mailing my needs, often being misunderstood because my voice inflection was not present, sound returned to me; all my words intact.  I’d like to say that I “wax eloquent” and I speak the poetry of another famous Dylan all the time, but that would be lying; I hate lying.  What is true, is that when I start to gossip or yell at someone, there is an unpleasant twist in the pit of my stomach that reminds me, “This could be your last word.”

Minecraft at 50 something

I am madly in love with my nephew.  Because of this, I was willing to spend hours hovering over his shoulders, while he created amazing universes that include museums, libraries, coffee shops and hot dog stands.  Once in a while, he'd tire of my loitering, and suggest I purchase a game of my own, then we can be co-maestros of worlds yet to be founded.  I'd always decline, preferring to champion his next effort (that's what I told him anyhow.  The truth is, I had a love affair with the Mario Brothers in my 20's, and spent many a sleepless night trying to save the princess. Yes, you could call it gamer addiction).  My other excuse, was that my 2004 laptop couldn't handle the massiveness of Minecraft (this was 100% true).

When I purchased a new Apple, the hard sell began (read - I know I have you wrapped around my pinky finger and I've decided it's time for you to cave).  So, I plunked down the $20 at Minecraft.com, and as suspected, I'm hooked.  Yes, we do spend Sunday afternoons creating villages, complete with villagers, water features and high rises, and we laugh and he complains when I do something terribly un-expertly-Minecrafty (aka "n00b").  But as I feared, I'm hooked.  When he goes home, I mine and search for diamonds and hidden shelters filled with lava and water falls, sometimes until midnight (which is two hours past my bedtime).  

This is totally different than my former days though.  This time, I'm exercising my brain.  After all, the use of tools such as mathematics, logic and creative acumen is intrinsic to Minecraft play.   Minecraft is surely better than any crossword, and I'm improving my skills so that my darlin little guy can complain less and fun more.  And, he designs "mini-games" that force logic, fun and to his credit, they're better than any thing available on the market.  This is not addiction, this is improvement, growth and perhaps even spirituality.  

Right?

Think About It

I just heard that a network dropped a show because the parties were Christian and “anti-gay.”  Both sides of this story make me want to vomit.  What this action says, is that Americans are not allowed to think the way they think.  Communism springs to mind.

I am Christian to the bone.  I have two dear friends, who I love very much, that are lesbians, have been together for over 60 years, and are interracial.  Don’t think they can get much more controversial if they tried.  Both are extremely generous, they use their gifts and talents to change the lives of many, predominantly young people, and the line of folks they’ve helped could circle around the globe. 

I have many Christian friends who have done the same.  I love them too.  I don’t think it’s the Christian community at large, or the gay/lesbian community at large that create the animosity.  I think it’s small groups on each side that have decided the world should behave as drones and no one should have their own opinions or thoughts and if you do, we’ll fire you, hate you, put you in a box.

As for the gay/lesbian group(s) who got these folks fired, shame on you.  We are in an era where employment is hard to find and Americans need to work.  You have to accept that not everyone will agree with your lifestyle.  To the "anti-gay" protestors who think their rallies change anything, shame on you for trying to tell someone else how to live.  Just for the record, I've never heard of a gay/lesbian man or woman choosing to go straight because of a rally.

I’m around young people a lot and I’m often asked, as a Christian, how do I feel about gays?  The bible says that folks shouldn’t lay with the same sex.  It also says that we shouldn’t judge and it also says that the most important gift is love.  America is a democracy where American citizens have rights of choice and freedom.  

I always tell those young people about my two friends and how I can’t imagine either one of them living any other way.  I choose to live differently and that's okay with both of us.  What’s not okay is not to love or to attempt to control another because their opinion differs with yours.  

Uncanny

I’m 74% city girl, 24% Beach Bum, with just a tad of farm girl nudged into each of those characteristics.  Prior to about a month ago, I believed that canning was for 100% farm girls and grandmothers.  And even if I did attempt this activity, which I’m totally unqualified to complete, I have neither the time, nor room for all the equipment I would need.

However, life being life, I found myself with eight pounds of strawberries and my little voice (the one above my belly button that guides me when I choose to listen), said, “Try canning them.”  By adding fresh lemon juice, sugar (I use raw sugar), and about forty- five minutes of my time, to sliced strawberries, I made six jars of delicious preserves.

There is a ton of information on the web by folks educated to teach the how to’s of canning.  I particularly like the Youtube.com videos, and am anxious to try vegetables and other types of fruit.

Another benefit is, by adding a clever label or ribbon to your Mason Jar, Voila!,  Hostess Gift, for the last minute dinner party you were invited to a week ago, that you forgot about.

There’s machinery out there if you’re very serious or have more money than you know what to do with.  If you don’t fall into either one of those categories, I’d wait.

Next time, instead of eating Girl Scout Cookies and Chips for dinner (I’ve heard people do this), have a nutrition packed jar of asparagus or green beans that you canned yourself.

Merry Christmas

Although I would really like to keep up with my blog during the Christmas Season, it's not going very well.  So I'd like to wish you all an Amazing Christmas and a most prosperous New Year.  I'll see you in January.

You Too Can Relate

I was dining with my niece at Balboa Pizza Company (in Henderson, NV), and she said how so much of what we learn about relationships, is from watching our parents.  Considering that approximately 50% of marriages end in divorce, this is a scary thought.  Neither she nor I grew up in a home where there was respect, love or friendship between our parents.

She's in her twenties and trying to find her way.  I'm not, but I recall those same years trying to find mine.  I spent them jumping from one dysfunctional relationship to the next.  As I stood in front of my elders, a bleeding heart in hand, the conversation typically went like this:

"Why does this keep happening to me?"
"Don't worry, lots of fish in the see.  The right one will come along."
"How will I know?"
"You'll know."

How is this helpful?!  Why didn't anyone, in ten years, ever say:

"This keeps happening to you, because you were taught that if you don't get your way, you shout the other person down until they cave."

"This keeps happening to you because the only reason the two people who raised you stayed together, was 'for the kids.'  Love and respect for each other went out the window six months after you born."

"You will know the 'right one' when he gives as much as you do.   Not necessarily at the same time, but at the end of the year, the score should be zero to zero.  If you're the only one giving, GET OUT!"

"You'll know he's the right one when he treats you as kindly as you treat him.  If he can't, say goodbye and go live your life until a loving fella enters your world."

"If a potential partner tells you that they are no good - RUN!!!  They know themselves.  Trust them.  Do not assume that they're misunderstood.  RUN!!!! I tell you RUN!!!

As it turned out, the right one did come along disguised as my friend (add that to the list).   How did I know he was the right one?  Every time we took the next step, dating, engagement, marriage, buying a home, it felt right in the pit of my stomach.

I told my niece all of these things, as I have 294 times before.  Her eyes glaze over like they do when I tell the same story over and over again.  Really, the most important thing each of us can do?  Teach those coming up after us to relate, remembering that they hear little we say, but watch every move we make.



 

Galveston Gulf View Condo Available for Vacation Rental

I haven't achieved the readership, yet, that I need to get folks who'd like to advertise on my blog, so I've decided to do a bit of my own.

We have a condo in Galveston, TX that we rent out year round.  It's a two bedroom, two bath that sleeps eight.  It has a west gulf view, is located on the first floor, one king bed, one queen bed, bunk beds and a sleeper sofa.  Two TV's (One Flatscreen), DVD, full range/oven, granite counter tops, ceramic tile floor coverings throughout, washer/dryer and wireless internet.

If you'd like to know more about it, please visit:

http://www.abseascape.com/irmnet/(S(bcyvclb5lhmvnnqai3e1wi55))/res/resmain.aspx?Submit=View+picture+%26+Book&RoomNum=1106

In case that link doesn't work, please go to:

http://www.galveston.com/seascape

And choose to book suite #1106.

Thank you.

Who's Problem Is It?

Thanksgiving is less than a week and a half away; Christmas, just slightly over a month.  It's the time for spending oodles of time with family.  In our dreams there is a cozy fire burning, the house smells of turkey and spice and everyone is being treated with kindness and love.  The fire and the turkey, doable.  Families who do not end up in some sort of scuffle before desert, rare as the East African Bongo.

I've thought of a coping strategy to use this year, that I'd like to share.  We'll find out together how well it works.

There are members of my family that don't like my hair.  I like my hair.  So when they make an evil comment about the light socket and my finger, I'm going to say to myself, their problem not mine, and continue stuffing the turkey.

I am overweight, but have been working very hard since June and have seen some positive results.  However, barring famine, I won't be my ideal weight by Christmas.  So if when the pumpkin pie is passed and Aunt Sara says, "Oh she doesn't need any of that," to an entire room of people, I will say in my head, bully, and then take a slice of the pie.

We internalize so many mean things that are said to us, or feel like we need to defend ourselves.  "My hair is naturally curly." "I've been exercising and eating really healthy."  Or, we hone in on their faults.  "Oh, I guess it's okay that you ran over Sam's cat who didn't die, but you left the scene anyway."  This gets nowhere quickly.  The cat is no more of your business than your hair and weight are theirs'.

I never recommend internalizing feelings or not feeling your feelings.  Heart attack city.  I do recommend not taking on other folks problems or bullying even if you love them.  If they tell you that you have a character trait that you're not, greedy for example, simply write it off to being their problem.  If you've been struggling with greed, you've confided in them, and they're using it against you, bully.

Enjoy the season.  And Praise God that it only comes once a year!

Rich Habits

I just finished reading Rich Habits, by Thomas C. Corley CPA, CFP, M.S. Tax, published by Langdon Street Press.

The book is 89 pages of excellent advice on how to get your life organized, including examples of the changes three individuals experienced after thirty days or so of the program.  As the title implies, if you follow Mr. Corley's ten steps, monetary wealth should follow.  I can see applying these steps to any and all endeavors you're pursuing, that may or may not produce monetary wealth, but success.

Household chores will be more easily accomplished by following these steps.  They're about structure and gaining control over your life.  Self-control.  The only control we have, and if you play it right, the only one you need.

I bristle at the thought of any kind of structure, so if you're reading this and saying to yourself, "dream on," I understand.  However, I have noticed that folks who have goals for each and every day of their lives, are getting much more accomplished that I am.

So, if you're looking to change your life, you might want to give the principals in the book thirty days, as he suggest.  Good luck and may these tools help you find your path to success, whatever that looks like for you.  Go to www.richhabits.net

Stay Out Of The Whale's Belly

For Bible Study today, I read the book of Jonah.  To get into a dialogue of how a human survived in the belly of a whale for three days misses the point of this book, so I’ll skip that dissertation and head directly into the it’s applicability, as I see it.

Each of us have a God given purpose.  He asks us to complete huge, tiny and medium  tasks each day that serve to accomplish His purpose for us.  His voice is not audible, but is heard in our heart, or that little voice that lives inside us (mine is located above my bellybutton).  He always starts by asking us kindly.  We have been given freedom of choice, therefore the option of yes or no is up to us.  If we keep saying no, inevitably we end up in a whales stomach, on our knees, praying desperately for God to help us.  When He feels we’re ready, he allows the whale to vomit our flesh upon the beach.

Our current journey is not over yet, because we’re covered in smelly, gooey vomit and still have not reached the goal.  Out we go to fulfill His request, then we take a shower and slowly we’re back to our wonderful have all the answers selves.  The humility we acquired from the three days inside the whale is soon forgotten, and we’re self-sufficient, omniscient beings in no time; until we find ourselves blistering in the middle of the desert.  Again, doing it our way and trying to hide from our God.  Do we ever learn?

Within the last two decades, God has asked me to finish one novel, two stage plays and a teleplay.  This blog is His idea, and I’m supposed to be posting two a week.  Every single time I come remotely close to success, I allow fear to take the place where trust should be and run the other way.  The embarrassment of, “How’s that novel coming?” from people I told five years ago that I was almost finished, is my current Jonah moment.  I see “fraud,” in their eyes as I answer, “coming along.”  However, in God’s Unending Mercy, He’s giving me yet another chance, (I think this is 1,284) but I have to admit, I’m feeling a bit gooey and stinky.

Would you be so kind as to join me in praying that two years from now you are rushing to the bookstore to pick up my novel, or attending the opening night of my play?  May my name be in lights, instead of on the front page of the paper, “Jenny Albert, gone to sea again.”

I'll Call You Back

What I'm about to say is indicative to a specific situation in my life, as most "Op-Ed" pieces are.  However, we are all tied together by being a part of the human condition, so I have to believe that this problem belongs to more than me.

When a friend or loved one says, "I'll call you back," I believe that they'll call me back.  Now, everyone gets busy, and an occasional, "I blew it" is acceptable.  These words are written to the folks who have a chronic problem.  A habit, a vice, whatever.  I would like to tell you that it would be better for you to say the following instead:

1.   I'm not interest in what's going on in your life.
2.   You don't matter enough to me to share my life with you.
3.   You are insignificant to me.
4.   You are not worth the investment of my time.   

Oh that's not nice.  Those words will hurt somebody.  So unkind.  And talk about politically incorrect.

You're saying all of those things anyway by not keeping your word.  Oh, add that you can't keep your word.  It's impossible to build a relationship on deception.  Telling the truth would be so much kinder.  The Truth sets us all free.

One more thing.  If you're the victim of a chronic liar, harsh, but the truth, don't spend one second of your time or energy wondering why they treat you like this.  The problem is theirs.

Always The Best In The Worst

It was the best of times it was the worst of times, Charles Dickens wrote in 1859.  These prophetic words apply to each year since his original penning.  One might even say that they apply to each week or even day since he sat down with his inkwell.  The picture he painted with his prose depicts that everything has opportunity cost and always will.  

The world economy nose dived beginning with the collapse of Lehman Brothers, September 2008. Some “in the know” Politicians (that may be an oxymoron) and business people have said that if the American people knew how close we came to a full blown Depression, we wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, even now. However, depending on which business news analysts’ are reporting their current research findings, we are finally moving out of the worst historical Recession since the Depression.  Except we’re not because unemployment is still too high and those who do have jobs are terrified that they’re going to loose them.  

Citibank is laying off over 700 folks here in Las Vegas.  Wells Fargo just had a layoff of over 2,000, although not all in Las Vegas.  The Stock Market, although volatile, is up this year.  Many citizens of this country have a better looking retirement portfolio.  This is a good thing but with unemployment is somewhere between ten and fifteen percent, (in real terms) and worry of impending unemployment, folks are not out spending.  

They’re saving more money in a traditional savings account (about 10% more) and splurging less; instead of expensive meals and fancy vacations, a $10 bottle of wine (there are some very good varietals at this price) and a pasta dinner, with the advantage of enjoying family and friends, at home is in order.  Families are staying home, renting movies, playing games, getting to know each other.  Finally people matter again and stuff is very uncool.      

Worst times will be ever present but the good news is that so will best times.  There will always be the greedy and there will always be the generous.  Here’s to always being able to find the best in the worst.

Every Generation Has Their Own Groove On

I write young adult fiction, and through research of something completely unrelated, I discovered the Millennial Generation.  (Okay so I was asking my nephew questions about friendships between guys and girls today, and he told me about this.)  Like most generations, who these young people are, born roughly between 1980 and 2000, grew organically out of their life experiences.  Most of them heartbreaking and tragic.

Their parent’s spent 90% of their time at work to give them, well, everything.  Then our economy exploded at the end of 2008.  Parents were immediately fired and employers gave themselves four million dollar bonuses.  The Millennial child was told, if not immediately, then eventually, your life is now going to change now; drastically.  

“I’ve just lost my job, your college savings and my retirement,” parent said.  “I’d mortgage my house for you college expenses, however, all the equity I’ve built over the last ten or so years is gone.”

“What did you do wrong?” Child asks.

“Nothing.”

“Why did this happen then?”

“Greed.”

Somewhere during that conversation these children decided that’s not going to happen to them.  They will not stay in a job that don’t like.  Their friends are more important than anything.  They keep in touch with their parents on pretty much a daily basis which is easy because their bedroom is located in their parents home, even after they’ve graduated college.  

Oh yes and their parents are helicopters/overprotective.  The reason for this is 9/11, Eric Harris, Dylan Klebold and Seung-Hui Cho.  Mom and Dad became more protective of them.   They became more aware of the fragility of life.  The fact that friends brothers and sisters came home in a box from The Iraq War, adds to their vulnerability.

All of this makes the idea of 8 to 5, in a job they hate out of the question.  They see no point in living life without passion and love.  

I’m interested to see what their family habits will be as far as finding a spouse and having children of their own.  I wonder if it will be more of a community effort with technology to assist them.  They may not be the richest generation.  I hope from the bottom of my heart that they are the happiest.

Boz Scaggs New "Album" MEMPHIS

Scaggs sang the first lyric from his original song, Gone Baby Gone and my heart sang back, "Hello old friend."  I still heard Lido Shuffle, but in a more grown-up voice.  In a few words, he took me back to high school, yet left me in front of the bathroom mirror, making mascara application a more enjoyable experience.

I can think of twelve people who will disagree with me before I finish this sentence, but since it is my blog, I'm going to say it.  The best decade for music began in the late 60's and carried over through the 70's.  Yes, musically I mostly live in 1979 and prior.  Whenever a new album comes out from one my long ago treasured artists, I'm hopeful that in their lyrics I will find the days of the local records stores.  However, comeback artists often no longer have "it."  I will never write a critical review because even bad art is difficult to make, and someone liked it because it was produced and made available in the open market. Be that as it may, when I do like the new songs from a jewel from my past, I must share.

Mr. Scaggs, (just like Dr. John - see previous post) still has the "it" and like the wine he sells, his voice has grown smoother with time.

The album is a mix of remakes and two new songs.  All however have his signature voice stamped upon them.  The remake of Corrina, Corrina is one of my favorites.  Willy DeVille's Mixed up, Shook Up Girl, is a blend of Reggae, Blues and Soul the way only Scaggs can do.

Learn more about this and other albums, and check on his tour schedule at www.bozscaggs.com.
And just for fun, you can go to his Official Fan club site at www.bozscaggs.org.

How to Paint a Room

It's been much to long since I've written, and as any card carrying sloth can tell you, I have a million excuses.  Some really good ones too.  But, an excuse is just that regardless of how well honed.

My muse shook me today, and while I was sorting through a basket, notes I'd written a while back on painting, I did find.

Many of us sloths (I'm told it's not really about being lazy it's about being terrified) start a project expecting to be complete by the end of the day.  We get up early, have an energizing breakfast and get to work.  I was no different with painting and was wrong, wrong, wrong.  My mistakes are fodder for a short story, but I can condense the "take away" into four, somewhat brief, instructions.

1) Buy painter's tape (I prefer the green Frog Tape, frogtape.com), plastic to cover the floor, good rollers and brushes (Purdy, purdy.com,  are my favorite.  Make sure to check the nap before you purchase any rollers.  The wrong nap will cause you more work.  Also, this website has some excellent video tips), caulking (you can also buy a caulking tool but I think using your index finger works the best).  If your budget allows, you can purchase some smaller art brushes for both hard to get to spaces and to gently cover your mistakes.  Also buy a few disposable paint trays.  They're inexpensive and well worth it.

2)  Go home and do all the "prep" work (WARNING, this takes longer than the actual painting).  Clean your walls which can consist of getting out the broom and "sweep" them the same way you would your kitchen walls. Cover your baseboards as evenly as possible to prevent paint spills.  Also tape along the line where the ceiling meets the wall, along the ceiling side.  These borders will keep paint off, but still be careful not to put too thick a coat around the areas as it will seep through.  Cover your floor with plastic, taping about every two feet or so to keep your floor cover from slipping.

3) Paint.  Be prepared to paint an entire wall before you decide that you hate the color.  Paint chips give an idea of what the color will be.  It's not gospel.

4)  Caulk.  The last step is to caulk the baseboards and around your windows.  It's good preventive maintenance and it gives all your hard work a finished look.

As motivation, please keep in mind that you'll have an amazing sense of accomplish when your friends come over and say, "Really, you did this?"

Happy Holidays

“Happy Holidays” is a politically correct term that makes me physically sick.  It has arrived in the American vernacular in an attempt to offend no one.  Oh how it deeply offends me.  I’m a Christian.  Christmas is about the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ.  I have Jewish friends.  Their holiday, Hanukkah/Chanukah, is about the Maccabean Revolt against the Greeks in 2nd century BC.  They spend eight days commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple.  Are either one of these events so insignificant to warrant summarization as “Happy Holidays?” 

Yes, I have also heard, “We must include the ‘holiday’ of Ramadan in our ‘Happy Holidays’ politically correct dialogue.”  This year the Islamic celebration of Ramadan took place from July 19th through August 18th.  Obviously, it is not even applicable, under these two umbrella words, for this time of year.

I wish my Jewish friends Happy Chanukah.  They wish me a Merry Christmas.  We survive this exchange.  The world does not end and a war does not break out.  We accept that each of us observe differently and we wish each other well.  And if they had given me Chanukah greetings, I given them Christmas greetings, we still would have simply been wishing each other well.

I do not know who the “they” are, who every year cause further division among us and get headlines.  “They” do not and cannot speak for me. 

So to one and all, I wish you each Happy Chanukah and each a Merry Christmas.  Most of all, I wish you the opportunity to spend time with those you love and to celebrate the reasons for the seasons.

Dr. John and The Blind Boys of Alabama

On October 16th, Tim and I went to see the afore mentioned musicians at The Smith Center, Las Vegas' new Carnegie Hall.

 I've been a big fan of Dr. John since the 70's, and unlike so many rock stars from "back in my day," (please say those words with an authoritative voice, perhaps one that sounds like your dad's) he brought "it" and them some to the stage.  Each member of his band is a talent in their own right too.  I particularly enjoyed Sara Morrow playing the trombone.  Typically guitar, piano, sax and many other instruments spring to mind before the trombone, but she just may be the one to change that thinking, as she makes her instrument sexy.

Sadly, so many rock musicians from the 70's perform loooooong, self-serving riffs, in an attempt to disguise the fact that their talent is gone.  This show was about entertaining the people who paid to see a legend that sounded better than he did when I was a kid.

Until that night, I'd not had the privilege of being entertained by the other headliner, "The Blind Boys of Alabama."  I must say that gratefully that has changed.  Dr. John played for a while and then four of the members of my new found friends came on stage and announced something along the lines of, they were not in the habit of playing for conservative audiences and they didn't plan to start.  Well it wasn't long before everyone was on their feet hootin', stompin' and clapin'.  I don't generally enjoy when, "Amazing Grace," is sung in any other way then the original form, but they sang my favorite hymn to the music of, "House of the Rising Sun," and it was genuinely AMAZING.

Dr. John's band played for them, let's call it Act 2, and in Act 3, he finished up the concert and even plucked a guitar for one melody (a gunshot wound to the hand decades ago forced him to stop playing the guitar and so he turned to the piano).  The finally brought the "Blind Boys," back out and if your spirit was not higher than ninety minutes ago when you walked into the center, well, you were probably dead.

How to Have A Happy Marriage - Really

Today my husband and I have been married for eighteen years.  When I tell folks this, the first question is, “What’s your secret?”  I answer, “Be friends first.”  My husband and I spend most of our time together and genuinely enjoy each other’s company.  I love him more every day.  Yes, of course, we’ve had a few not so great moments, but for the most part, it’s been easy and whatever the next right step should be, has come naturally to us as a couple.

I like to read Op-ed pieces and essays.  “How to Have A Great Marriage,” is a frequent topic, and most of these articles make me ill.  What their title promises the reader, their content betrays.  I read one author who suggested that it was a good idea to make new friends of the opposite sex.  Not!  Really bad idea.  If you have friends of the opposite sex before marriage, that’s something different, and an essay in itself.  Here’s a few good tips from my POV.

Pick the right partner - This really is an almost impossible task.  I know, “Don’t sugar coat things on your account.”  I think it’s so hard because she acts like who she is not so that she can find a he who’s acting like who he is not.  They get married, move in together and the fireworks begin.  Or prior to marriage, she starts to see some traits she hates, but once they’re married, she’ll love him into changing (I hate to say this, but this does seem to be more of a female habit).  He’s not going to change.  She’s not going to change.  It’s only going to get worse - much worse.

So what do you do?  The Great Commandment is Love God.  The Great Commission is to love your neighbor as yourself.  If you don’t love yourself, you’re not going to love your neighbor, or your spouse.  The only way to find the right partner is to really know who you are.  A grueling task, but so worth it.  From there, you can find a person who will grow in happiness with you. 

Don’t Settle - I first heard these words uttered from Susan Sarandon’s mouth in “Thelma and Louise.”  Since I didn’t marry until the tender age of thirty-two, I had plenty of opportunity to settle.  Mr. Wrong was around every corner and the pressure from my friends (and myself) to get married before I became a spinster was great!  Only two things come from settling: divorce and misery if you don’t get divorced.  

You’re enough - I dated quite a few inappropriate fellas just to say to the world, “I’m dating.  I’m a valid person.”  One morning it occurred to me from “no where” that I was the cause for misery in all my relationships.  That to keep from hurting anyones feelings, no matter how very wrong they were for me, I chewed off my own arm, so to speak.  When I decided that I was better off alone than in dumb relationships, my Knight in Shining Armor was not far behind.

Sex is Not Love - I don’t care how good the sex is, if it’s all your relationship is based upon, you won’t make it.  When the hard times come, great sex flies out the window faster than a speeding train (cliche enough?).    You have to have a strong foundation built on God, love and respect.  Along the same lines, if your partner cheats on you while dating, he or she is going to cheat on you when you get married.  Go through the heartache and find a monogamous partner to marry. 

Your Partner is not Your Possession - I’m pretty sure this is self explanatory.  Support each other’s endeavors, don’t be threatened by them.  This goes back to knowing thyself.

Luck, Blessings, Grace, Mercy, whatever you chose to call the unexplained, help greatly, but those are the things we don’t control.  Control what you can, yourself, and leave the rest to The Universe.