20 Years On ...

Many of you, my friends, have read my story of Sept 11 over the years when I repost my experience from that day. It was a horrible day.

This year, I reflect upon that day again. The flight that day that strikes me the most is Flight 93. The one where the passengers overtook the hijackers and crashed the plane in Pennsylvania. 

The plane I was on was in the air at the same time as those planes. I wonder what I would have done if my plane was headed towards a target. It is impossible to know. I was on a Delta flight from Atlanta to Chicago that left the same time as the hijacked planes. The passengers on my plane had no idea what was happening elsewhere. What if the plane was being hijacked to crash into the Sears Tower? Would we have known? Would the pilot have tried to tell us? What would we have done? Would we have been so brave and patriotic? I wish I could say yes. I would like to say I would have been brave and helped to crash a plane. 

I like to think that the passengers on my flight would have been as brave as those on Flight 93. My flight landed. I was grounded for several days. What I remember most after the initial shock and terror was how our country came together. Once I got back to my home in Atlanta, we bought an American flag and flew it proudly every day. I bought American flag pins - fancy Swarovski and others - that I wore proudly on my clothes for more than a year. I had to travel to Manhattan for work every week and wept at the sight of the blue lights streaking into the sky where the Twin Towers were supposed to be. I despised the terrorists and what they did to our country. I knew people who worked at the World Trade Center and they were all suddenly gone - whoosh. In the blink of an eye.

So much has changed since then. September 11 set the stage for governmental lies, even more so than during Watergate, which was the event in the 1970s that prompted me to go into journalism. Distrust in our government has grown, even though we all trusted it right after Sept 11. Today, we cannot pull our country together in the face of an enemy that is quite different from the hijackers - a deadly virus that we all should be fighting

I am sad. I am heartbroken. I still feel the togetherness we had after Sept 11 and mourn for that togetherness today. Can we get it back? I am hopeful we will although it may not be in my lifetime. As someone who studied hIstory, I understand that it moves in cycles. Our country has been divided and broken before, as it is now. I wish for us to have a collective reality. I wish for us to have common facts. I wish for my fellow citizens to be able to critically think to avoid being brainwashed. I wish for an updated Fairness Doctrine that will enable citizens to hear different points of view on the media.

Wishing won’t make it happen, however. We have to vote, to elect principled people and leaders who tell the truth and not simply say what they think voters want to hear. We need to get involved at the local level and push for ethics in government and in corporations. We should love our neighbors and not fight or argue with them. We should welcome and help the disadvantaged and those impacted by poverty. 

In many ways, the pandemic is this generation’s 9/11. Our mass trauma is similar to that in 2001. Let’s pull it together and fight on together. We are one. We should be united.

One year later, and I miss my dad

….losing a parent is something like driving through a plate-glass window. You didn’t know it was there until it shattered, and then for years to come you’re picking up the pieces—down to the last glassy splinter. – Saul Bellow

With Dad downtown in the 1980s

I miss my dad. I was thinking about him this week. It was exactly one year ago that I moved him from Florida to Chicago.  He was no longer the independent man I had grown up with and he was coming home to Chicago for the last time. After suffering a stroke in April, he went through rehab and we got him back to his Longboat Key condo with round-the-clock care. Despite being constantly watched, he managed to fall over the 2016 Labor Day weekend, break his hip and sustain a concussion and head gash. That was it. He needed to be closer to my sister and I, and he needed more help than he could get at home.

So in October 2016, he took the last plane ride of his life. He was in first class with Michael, a caregiver, while I rode in coach. He loved being in first class and being pampered. He was child-like and eager for the trip. I drilled into him where he was going and what was happening, but it didn’t stick. I really don’t know where he thought he was going but he was happy to be out of the hospital. I forgot to order him a special meal on the flight. He was not supposed to eat solid food, but when I went up to check on him, Michael had cut up the food into teeny pieces and Dad was relishing it. It was some of the last solid food he ate. It was a big job to get him into and out of the plane, but with Michael’s help and a wheelchair, we struggled through it.

This past weekend, I recalled in particular the medic van ride to the skilled nursing facility. Dad was still in his wheelchair, strapped in and looking out the front window. The weather was warm and sunny that day, just like it was one year to the day later.  I often wonder if Dad thought he was coming to my house, or did he think he was going to the house he and my mom used to own in Elmhurst? During his last months in Florida, when I asked him where home was, that is where he thought he lived.

He made it two more months, until December, before he gave up. We knew from his documents and conversations, that he never wanted to live if he could not do certain tasks on his own. He essentially checked himself out of life on his own terms. That does not mean that I don’t miss him, miss our weekly phone calls and regular visits, and the sage advice he gave before he suffered his stroke. Every so often, like many of you who have lost loved ones, I want to pick up the phone and ask him a question: “Dad, do you remember when we went to California for the first time?” “Dad, what was Chicago like during the Depression?” …. The list goes on. The questions will remain unanswered.

The glass of life is shattered and I will be picking up the last splinters for all my days to come.

Women executives: Enter at your own risk

There are some days when I reflect back on how far women have come in business, and some days when I just shake my head. Recently, a meme on social media showed photographs of important international events, political gatherings, and business meetings. One picture shows a group photo, the next photo shows the same photo with all the men removed. The women are few and far between. It was a stark reminder of how far women have yet to travel on the business journey.

The other day I related to another woman in business some of the more outrageous things that happened to me during my 30+ years in the business world. She is younger and had a hard time believing some of them. These events really happened, and I thought I’d memorialize some of them here.

I spent many years in male-dominated businesses. But then again, what business has not been male-dominated? When I worked for one of the largest printing companies in the country, I realized I was missing out on business connections because I didn’t golf. This was the late 1980s / early 1990s. Many of the printer’s suppliers networked with my male colleagues on the golf course. I decided to learn to golf. I bought a set of used golf clubs, and took some lessons so that, at a minimum, I learned golf etiquette.  I began to golf and practiced on Saturdays. I was eventually invited to attend some golf outings, too.

One of the more memorable ones was an event at Wynstone Golf Course, in South Barrington, Illinois. It was a beautiful course, and Michael Jordan played there back in those days.  It was fancy! First of all, there were only two other women playing in the outing. What did the organizers do? They put the three of us together in a threesome.  Nice. Next, one of male golfers took it upon himself to yell at me after the golfing was completed.  He stood across from me and pointed at me: “If it wasn’t for you, we would be playing at Medinah.”  The Medinah course, at that time, did not allow women to play on its master course.  I was around 30 years old at this time, and it was disconcerting to have an older businessman yell at me.  My only retort was: “I would love to play at Medinah but they won’t let me. Why don’t you take it up with them?”

Another memorable time came when I was the only woman vice president and on a leadership team for a publishing company. My company engaged a management consulting firm to help us improve productivity and “re-engineer” the manufacturing processes we had. The consulting company took us offsite to a retreat they owned in rural Louisiana for a few days. This place was like something out of Deliverance, very rustic and remote. We met as a group during the day, had dinner, and then the evenings were to be spent in the main house where the meetings and sleeping quarters were. The only hitch was that they hadn’t had women there before and all the washrooms, sleeping areas, and public areas were communal. They scrambled to figure out what to do with me, and decided that I would spend my nights in a separate cabin on the property. Each night I was escorted there, and I was given instructions to stay in my cabin and not venture out. Why? Because they had guard dogs securing the property in addition to the fences and other security measures. The dogs would attack me if I went out alone. I felt like I was in a prison camp, and missed out on the opportunities to “bond” with my colleagues in the evening because I was stuck alone in a cabin in the bayou. My imagination heard the faint chords of banjo music drifting over the swamp at night.

I participated in diversity training at a large printing company in the early 1990s. When the diversity instructor asked the male manager of the facility if he went out with the guys for beers after work, he most assuredly said, ‘of course’. When the instructor asked the manager if they talked about work issues there, the manager assuredly replied, ‘of course’. When the instructor suggested that the manager include the women supervisors, like me, in the after work events, the manager replied: “That’s impossible. What would my wife think?” That manager was an older man who regularly hosted poker games at his house for my male peers. No women allowed.  After the diversity training, he invited me to my first poker game. What a triumph! The win was being invited. Since I don’t play cards or gamble, I was able to politely thank him for the invitation and show my appreciation as I begged off.  Was that really a success for women?

I’m sure many of you, other women executives, have stories like these:

•  The male customer who literally chased me around a party when I was in my 20s. My boss at the time helpfully told me to “be nice to him, but run faster and don’t let him catch you.”
• The conference calls I’ve been on when I hear male colleagues literally going to the bathroom and flushing the toilet on the call.
• The first time I managed men who were older than me and listening to comments about my inexperience, and “what does she know, she’s just a girl.”

I love men. I’m married to one.  It seems a sad commentary that in my 30+ years of business, there are still so few women at the top of businesses. Very few in boardrooms, too. Until I retire, I will continue to coach and mentor young women in business today. They can still get far, if they have the stamina, the perseverance, and the stomach for it. Diversity is the future, and the growth of today’s businesses depend on it. What are you doing to help the cause? Let’s work together to make sure women have a seat at the table and not sit alone in a cabin, guarded by a dog.

The impact of one person's life

From the film "It's A Wonderful Life"

You hear about the impact one person can have on many people, and most of us have watched the movie "It's A Wonderful Life" and saw the impact that George Bailey had on his family and town. I recently experienced this first-hand when my primary physician unexpectedly passed away. She had been my doctor since I left my pediatrician more than 40 years ago. While I knew she was not taking new patients, she was still working a full schedule.

Her death was sudden, unexpected and made me incredibly sad. When I heard the news, I burst into tears. This was a woman who had seen me through illnesses, literally saved my life when I had toxic shock syndrome in 1981, who saw me through marriage, the death of my mother, and more. Her absence is profound, and intimate in a way that is hard to describe.

Her physician son took over the practice, but did not want to continue with it,  and abruptly closed the the practice. Gone are 40 years of health records, which really were the history of my body. My husband is in the same boat although he had "only" seen her for about 28 years.

She was a general practitioner in the truest sense of the term. With her as our doctor, we did not need to see other specialists. She even played the role of marriage counselor at times, with her engaging personality, sparkling wit and common sense. The search for a new doctor has been rough. We found a GP, but also now need a cardiologist, a neurologist, an ob-gyn, and who knows what else.

She died last October. It is now September and almost 11 months have passed. We are still feeling the impact and the loss, the incredible loss. The ripples from this death have amazed me and surprised me. I'm sure I am not the only person feeling this loss. Employees were suddenly without jobs, a family was without a matriarch, and a church lost an incredible leader and parishioner.

Life is short. Enjoy it. Do good things. Spend time with the people you want to spend time with. To me, that has meant spending time with people who share my values and people who I have known over a long period of time. Don't waste time on the "small stuff." Life is short. Enjoy it.

Guns, guns and more guns. Now in your pockets and purses.

I was working today and heard the news that Illinois just became the final state in the U.S. to allow people to carry concealed guns. This news sickens me. Over the July 4th weekend, 70 people were shot in the city of Chicago. Eleven of them died, and the rest are in various stages of pain and misery.

As I talked with some friends last night, the topic of what can be done about the recent violence came up. There are a lot of opinions about what should be done to stem the bloodshed. Some in the law enforcement community believe that the hands of police officers are tied and that they cannot do their jobs. Why? Some ideas: Smart phones with cameras. Fear of lawsuits. Who knows.

Some people believed that the areas in which shootings happen are prone to gang violence and that much of the crime is isolated there. But some of the most recent shooting victims are children, babies really. Innocents. They didn't choose where to live; don't they deserve more?

Guns are everywhere already and now it is legal to carry them in your purse or pocket or wherever. I know that smarter people than me are trying to figure out how to deal with this problem. I can't reconcile the good parts of the country that I love with the right-to-bear-arms contingent. I don't understand people who love guns. Most of the time, people are hurt or killed because people who have guns illegally use them for crimes. Innocent people are caught in crossfire. Some people are killed in accidents. And some people kill themselves with guns because it is easy and very final. I agree that the current gun laws should be enforced more strictly. I also agree that the only thing that will get peoples' attention is money. The NRA and politicians don't want to lose money from gun owners' contributions. The gangs make money from illegally selling guns that are bought legally and illegally. Lots of people who oppose guns don't have the money to fight in this arena. It is a complex issue, but I understand that the big money wins. It makes me sad. Let's take the big money out of gun-owning and see what happen.

Women and Work: Bands are businesses too!

This is really a note of appreciation to a band: Heart.

I recently watched the TV special about the bands and artists that were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year. One of them was Heart, a band founded by two sisters, Ann and Nancy Wilson.  They have been together since the early 60s, almost as long as the Rolling Stones, but really became popular in the 1970s and after.

Photo courtesy Heart-music.com

As they accepted their award, it was interesting to listen to them talk about being women in business. They talked about having kids, working when their kids were small, and dealing with a male-dominated business all these years, too. It was interesting because you really don't think of a band as a business, but it really is. They are artists as well as entrepreneurs. Their business employs a lot of people and earns a lot of revenue. I saw Heart for the first time at the University of Illinois on November 15, 1978. They absolutely blew me away. I covered the concert for the yearbook, Illio, and in the yearbook I wrote that it was strange to see men carrying roses to them on the stage, and that they really had a cult-like following on campus.

After all these years, Ann and Nancy Wilson showed during their recent Hall of Fame induction that they have aged well, they appreciate their fans, they have remained with their band, and held their business together against many odds that have shattered and shuttered other businesses, let along bands. As a woman who came of age just a few years behind them, I appreciated seeing them in 1978, and they gave me a perspective on music that I didn't have before. This year, they gave me a perspective about being women in business and entrepreneurs that I didn't fully appreciate. I have tickets to see them this summer at Ravinia here in the Chicago area, and I am really looking forward to it. It is great to see strong, talented women who have beaten the odds, created amazing songs and memories for their fans, and earned their place in music history. Cheers to Ann and Nancy Wilson, and to the boys in their band too!

There's something to be said for leisure....

There's something to be said for leisure. One of my good friends recently reminded me of that line from one of our favorite movies, White Christmas. The line in the movie was in the context of the retired general remaining retired and being too old for active duty.  My friend reminded me of it as I prepared to leave one professional role and begin to determine what my next role will be. She assumed I would be taking it easy for a while while I had my thinking time.

My trouble is that leisure is not a word associated with me or my workaholic family. I come from a long line of people who think that holding down only one job makes you a slug. Most people in my family have a primary job and then one or more other jobs. It is probably the work ethic of my Polish ethnicity that has been handed down through the years.

So, as I determine what I want to do for a living for the next few years, I am very busy with non-profit work and for giving my skills to friends who own locally-owned businesses.

So I am sure there is something to be said for leisure, only I am not sure what it is!

What inspires you? Here is one of my inspirations.

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." 

This was written many years ago by someone who has been a true inspiration to me for close to 30 years: Eleanor Roosevelt. Eleanor Roosevelt was born 129 years ago, but her wisdom is one for the ages. I began my fascination with her in 1984, during the centennial year of her birth.

In 1984, my husband and I were living in Washington, DC and had been there for about one year. The Smithsonian Institution, where we were members, put on an exhibit about Eleanor Roosevelt that was dramatic, poignant and yes, historical. This woman was remarkable, and it is clear to me that she was modern for her time, wise beyond her years, and cared deeply for humanity.

Starting in 1984, I devoured every book written by or about Eleanor Roosevelt. I found her inspiring, strong, and someone who I could model my behavior on as a young wife moving to a new place. To this day, I often read her words to give me inspiration. Sometime I wonder about how she would fit into today's world. I think she would fit right in. Her daily newspaper column would be posted online and perhaps she would have her own blog or web site. Her behavior, some of which at the time was deemed outrageous, would fit in today and some of her pro-woman, pro-diversity and inclusion opinions would still be ahead of the times.

We all need someone to inspire us, and I, along with many others, found Eleanor Roosevelt to be a perfect source of wisdom through the years. For those who have not studied her, you might be interested in reading about her. I highly recommend it. Thank you, Eleanor!

Some down time at last

Another Christmas Day is here. Time to reflect on the year and on those who have made an impact on me. Today is perfect. The snow is falling lightly, just enough to make things look festive outside but not enough to really impede travel. We will be spending time today with good friends and family. We spent Christmas Eve in Wisconsin with my sister and her family. My sister and brother-in-law led the music for the Christmas Eve service and it was beautiful as always. God has given them musical talent that they use to make others happy at this time and throughout the year. One of my nieces got engaged, and it is hard to imagine that since it seems like just yesterday that I was holding her in my arms as a baby.

The cookies are baked, the other food is prepared, and we are relishing the quiet and down time. We have seen more movies in the past couple of weeks, which shows that we are trying to make time for our "dates." We saw The Hobbit, which is good but so far not as inspired as the Lord of the Rings. Perhaps we are all too jaded and spoiled from that magical trilogy. We also saw Skyfall, which is probably my favorite James Bond movie to date. I wonder what it means that I liked it more than my husband, who is the hard-core James Bond fan? If it appeals more to women, is the Bond genre losing its "edge"?

So as we head into another new year, I hope you all find peace and contentment through this holiday season, remember those who are gone fondly, and treat others kindly. For that is really what matters in the end.

Time to slow down

This time of the year usually feels so rushed. This year I am going to try to slow down and enjoy my friends and family. The decorations are up, the gifts have not been bought yet (but that's OK) and I have begun my annual baking today.

Keeping things in perspective is important. I think about the strife in the world and feel blessed to live where I do in a free country, despite our political divides. As a former journalist, I watched yet another decline in journalistic / media civility this week when some radio hots made a prank phone call to the hospital where one of the British royal family was, and a nurse subsequently committed suicide, apparently over the call. Perspective. It's important.

Enjoy the holiday lights. Enjoy your families, Enjoy your friends. Be happy to be alive. If you have good health, be grateful for that. If you have an extra few dollars, give to a non-profit that helps others. The feeling you have at this time of year is more important than the things you have. Slow down and enjoy.

Lincoln: the Movie

I just saw the new movie about Abraham Lincoln in the last few months of his life. As a history buff and movie lover, I found the movie fascinating and interesting. I highly recommend it. The authenticity is remarkable, and it also humanizes and brings Lincoln to life in a way that the animatrons at DisneyLand cannot.

I am sure that Daniel Day-Lewis will be nominated for an Oscar, and so might Sally Field. James Spader was magnificent as a scoundrel who helps Lincoln pass the 13th amendment. I read that even the sounds in the movie are authentic: the ticking of Lincoln's watch came from Lincoln's real watch that was found in a museum. The squeaking of chairs and floorboards, as well as the creaking of old doors, came from actual sounds recorded at the White House from furniture, floors and doors that Lincoln really used. A former high school classmate of mine, Gary Rydstrom, has won many Academy Awards for sound and I saw his name in the credits for Lincoln, too, so he may add another statue to his collection. We will see what the Academy does with nominating Steven Spielberg - he so deserves to win more statues.

If you like history, if you like to see the sausage-making process that goes into making a bill become law, or if you simply just like a film with great dialogue, I highly recommend the investment of your time to see Lincoln.

Is Twitter the new AP wire?

Why do people like, and some even love, social media? The Internet has been around for a long time now, and the rise of social media has eclipsed some of the more meteoric technology advancements of the recent past. In my opinion, what is important is the engagement and sense of belonging that people get from this medium. As a former journalist, I find the rapid fire reporting on Twitter to be similar to the old days of the AP / UPI wires. The difference, however, is that in the "old days" of the AP wire, the facts were checked and the information was considered reliable. Today, you have to be your own fact checker. I really like Twitter for the information it carries (knowing I need to check the facts), and for the engagement it can inspire. But beware that most items are opinions and some can be really off the rails. That is also the fun of it.

Twitter, like Facebook, Pinterest, and other social avenues, requires interaction to really get the most out of it. For all these media (dare I call them that?) you will get out of them what you put into them. Responsiveness is expected, maybe not immediately but soon; and you should be authentic in how you present yourself and your ideas. This is another difference between social mediums such as Twitter, and the " old days" of journalism. In the past, if you were a writer you were not expected to have an opinion. Now, it is "opinion-palooza" all the time! People who engage with you want to hear and read your personality and followers you have want to learn from you and hear your opinions.

If you are just starting out and learning about social media, dive in. That is the only way to learn about it. You will make mistakes, but that is OK. Have fun and engage. I will be interested in hearing about your experiences!

Something to fall back on

I'm on vacation and reading the book "The Good Girls Revolt" about the women at Newsweek magazine and how they sued the magazine in order to be writers, in the 1970s. It really occurred to me that I was not too far behind these women as I was coming up in my career. I, too, wanted to be a journalist. I had no idea in the 1970s that journalism was a difficult role for a woman. As I read the words of Lynn Povich about how she took stenography even though she had a Vassar degree, I thought back to my own high school days. I took typing class in high school, because my mom thought I should "have something to fall back on" in the event I could not get the job of my dreams someday. In other words, I could always fall back on being a secretary somewhere if a real career was not in the cards for me.

Although I do not consider myself old, I look back at some of the toxic sexist situations I have encountered in my life and shake my head: yes, I lived through some sexist times myself.

When I worked for a television station as a reporter in my college town, the news director would not put me on the air until I cut my long, curly hair. "I don't want you looking like a college kid," he growled, even though I was a college kid. And when it was convenient for the tv station, I was asked to do promotional commercials that ran during Saturday Night Live.....to draw in the younger audience, the college students. And when the same news director asked me to come over to his apartment to review tapes of my stories, the only way I got out of it was by letting him know my boyfriend would be joining me since he would like to hear the input, too. Needless to say, the invitation was rescinded, thankfully.

At one of my first jobs post-college, ironically at a weekly newsmagazine, I was literally chased around a piano at a New York party by one of the magazine's customers. I recall running up to my boss at the time, a New York woman about 10 years older than me, and asking what I should do. "Just remember he's a big customer, and try to be nice....and don't let him catch you" she advised. He didn't, but when I tell that story now it sounds like something out of an old Doris Day movie or 1960s sitcom, not something that happened in the early 1980s.

Through the years, I have been in work situations in which I have been groped, leered at, flirted with, and asked out.....all the while being married and trying to do a professional job at the companies I have worked at. I have reported some men's behavior to my companies in the past, and have never seen a man obviously reprimanded or penalized for boorish behavior. Are women still discriminated against in the workplace today? I would say yes. It can be overt sexist behavior, or more subtle discrimination that prevents women from moving ahead or getting certain jobs, or discourages women in other ways: to leave certain industries for ones that are more woman-friendly. Women still need to appear at the top of companies more often, and we will need to continue to ignore bad behavior around us, boost one another as much as we can, and be role models for those women younger and just coming into business. The younger women need to see our success, and perhaps hear our war stories, so that they can be encouraged and not  discouraged themselves. It is good for them to see us helping one another, and not tearing one another down. You never know where life will lead you, and what nuggets from your past can shape someone else's future. As it turns out, I am glad I took typing in high school. Even though I could not have imagined it then, the typing skills I learned have been invaluable in today's computer age. Who knew? And who knows what words you tell a young woman can help her, too. You may tell her something that she can use to fall back on someday.

The day after September 11...

I read a post online today about the day after 9/11 in 2001. About how our nation was in shock and disbelief. If you read my older posts, you will see that I told my own story about 9/11 on this blog last year, but I found it interesting to think about the day after.  I began to think that maybe America was softening in its memory of that horrific day.

In parallel to reading the online post, I watched the news today and saw yesterday’s tributes to the victims and heroes of 11 years ago. There were photos of people in small country towns holding flags and signs that said, “We will never forget.” There were images of the tributes and the broken families left behind at the Pentagon, the World Trade Center site, and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

But I realized that America was not softening when I heard the news about the U.S. Embassy in Libya. The reports now say that the protest outside the Embassy may have been used as a front for a terrorist act by Al-Queda. The U.S. Ambassador was killed, along with three other brave Americans. Our President made it clear to the terrorists that we will get justice for this act, and it is a sober reminder that Americans remain targets in this world. We will never forget. 

Memories of Ray Bradbury

Independence Day 2012 has now come and gone. This time of year reminds me of Ray Bradbury and his beautiful prose. The wonderful descriptions of small town life in the Martian Chronicles and Something Wicked This Way Comes. The buzzing of bees, the twinkling of fireflies, the searing summer heat, and the tinkling of ice in glasses of lemonade are all reminiscent of a Bradbury story. He lived a good long life and made so many people happy with his richly described characters and his fantastic imagination. 

My neighborhood in Chicago held its annual 4th of July parade yesterday, going from one neighborhood park to another. The scene was nostalgic: the small children waving American flags, the brightly painted antique cars, the red Chicago fire engine with its siren blaring, and the tossing of penny candy to the people who lined the streets......again, reminders of Bradbury to me. 

I drew so much joy from his books as I was growing up, and have re-read them many times as an adult. His writing influenced my writing. I followed his lead, and I try to be as descriptive as I can when I write, yet also use words sparingly and clearly. Bradbury painted a vivid picture with each story. He brought the sparkly night skies to life. He perfectly described the dry red ravines of Mars. He nailed the portraits of lush green foliage in small towns in the summer; towns full of children bursting to have adventures and succeeding while experiencing the everyday monotony yet miraculous distinction of their summer days.

Ray Bradbury, I miss you already, yet I truly appreciate the joy and inspiration you gave to me and others like me for many years. You truly made your mark in this universe, and it is lasting.

The death of journalism in my lifetime, and the birth of ....?

I never thought that the profession of journalism would die during my lifetime. It is really amazing to me that it has had such a quick demise. I always dreamed of being a reporter, telling the truth about what was going on in my community, my country and the world. I have two journalism degrees and when I went to school, the concept of the "fourth estate" was taken seriously. It has been 40 (!) years since Watergate, an event that inspired me, and lots of others, to imagine themselves as crusaders in the foot steps of Woodward and Bernstein. But what do we have now, 40 years later? The Internet, which I love, enables "citizen journalists," an oxymoron if I ever heard one. Anyone can write anything online and it becomes the "truth." What in the world ever happened to fact checking? No time for that I guess. Reputations are gained....and lost....in a day, an hour, a moment today. Is there hope for this, for optimism? I hope so. There is a long trajectory of learning and experience that the Internet and social media is on. It is a journey and we are at the beginning of it, really. What will be next? What will happen as the medium matures? It is fascinating and I look forward to experiencing, witnessing and participating in it!

Resuscitation Annie, NSGW, and more......

I keep seeing the phrase "high school hijinks." I believe it is because it is the end of the school year and lots of kids are graduating and hijinks are being discussed. What hijinks did you do in high school? Mine are more numerous than I can fully relate, but here is a sampling: 1) Orchestrated the kidnapping of "Resuscitation Annie," the doll we used to practice CPR on. Donna and I lured the health teacher to the office by sending in a note that an urgent phone awaited her in the office (this happened well before cell phones). One of us was in the courtyard while the other hoisted Annie out the window. We hustled her to a secure hiding place in a washroom. Oh, yes, and we left a ransom note demanding all the sex ed videos (film strips?) from York High School. Needless to say, the teacher was not amused but we somehow returned the doll without ever being caught. 2) Painting the courtyard of said York High School. Who knows if a courtyard exists there anymore? The school has been made over at least once since then. But back in 1976, the Bicentennial year, Beth, Matt and I drove my mom's Oldsmobile 98 to the scene of the crime, spilling red, white and blue paint in the trunk - but successfully entering into the courtyard and painting over the traditional York green and white with the patriotic hues of the bicentennial. What a mess but the patriotic paint lasted well into the next school year. 3) NSGW. Donna and I talked this up for weeks before its arrival. "NSGW is coming!" "NSGW is arriving" and so on. What was it, people wondered. On the infamous day, Donna and I sneaked to the front of York High School and unfurled the banner so the arriving buses would see it: "National Squirt Gun Week" had arrived. Squirt guns for all! The administrators were not amused but we had a lot of fun with it. Elton John parties, York Dukes homecoming float parties, Elves crashing sock hops - yes, we did this and more. Lots of fun, and maybe you call them hijinks.

What a great day!

We had a great day in the San Francisco area. I began the day by taking a morning walk from Union Square to Fisherman's Wharf and back. The weather was perfect and it got the day off to a good start. Next up was a visit to Muir Woods. The majestic redwood trees always help put my life I perspective, and walking through the quiet foliage makes me feel at peace. I make sure to see Muir Woods every time I visit the Bay area. It is nice that there are well marked trails, and it is impossible to get lost. While some people may think the trail at Muir Woods is too commercial, it is perfect for people like me who want to experience the magnificent trees, but aren't able to rough it in the real woods. We had a fabulous lunch at Sam's Anchor Cafe in Tiburon. The place always has a positive vibe and when you sit outside and look over at the San Francisco skyline, it is bliss. Especially on a beautiful day like today, the day ended in North Beach, at the appropriately named North Beach restaurant. It is one of the best Italian restaurants around, and the veal dish I had was the best veal I ever had. It was a perfect way to end the end perfect day - lots of exercise, food, and good conversation with Ed!

The emotional memory lane

I always seem to post when I have an emotional connection to writing. Today would have been my mom's 83rd birthday. Seems like a long old age, except when I think that that she has been dead for 22 years. Then it seems like she died too young and it has been way too long since I have seen her. I got a wist of sentimentality today and went to the cemetery. It had been too long and I was worried that something bad might have happened to her burial place. With all the issues around cemeteries in the Chicago area, I was worried. But I went to the cemetery and the mausoleum where she is buried seemed in better shape than the last time I was there. Ed went with me and we visited his grandparents' graves and my grandparents' graves also. They are all in the same graveyard. We couldn't find my grandparents' graves but went to the office. The people there were kind and looked up the plots. It was interesting because they pulled old handwritten documents from the files in which my grandparents' handwritten notes were in the files. We eventually found the plots and they are very close to where the circus people are buried - the "show folks." It was time well spent and I am glad Ed went with me to the cemetery. The drive down there was interesting - down Mannheim Road - and we also decided to drive around Ed's old neighborhood in Westchester to see the house he grew up in. He will report back to his parents tomorrow about the graves and the old house. Definitely a trip down memory lane today.

My Winter Walk

A flash of red against the snow.
The friendly chirp of the cardinal sings.
They brighten up the winter sky.
Spring cannot be far behind.

The bobbing white of the tail of the deer.
The graceful leaps over the fallen brush.
The contrast between their fur and the snow.
Seeing them makes my walks worthwhile.