It’s Not Just Politics 2: Good People Don’t Continue to Support Bad People

unknownIn 2016, right after the presidential election, I wrote a blog called “”. I was dumbfounded, shocked, and utterly despondent that our country could elect such a terrible human being to the highest office of our land. I heard people who either voted for Trump, didn’t vote at all, or who casted a protest vote for a third party nominee they knew couldn’t win, saying “just give him a chance” and “he can’t be that bad” and “I just couldn’t bring myself to vote for Hillary”. I wanted to try. I wanted to believe he couldn’t be that bad. Really, I did.

Three years later, it’s crystal clear that they were all wrong. Trump is ten times worse than I could have ever imagined. And our country – and real people the world over – are suffering as a result. We’ve rarely had a single hour – much less a single day – without an assault of “what did he do?” or “what did he tweet?” or “oh no, how could he say that?”. It has been a constant barrage of awful – and I’m utterly exhausted from it. And I know I’m not alone.

Now, on the brink of another election that may not even be valid because of the Republican leadership’s refusal to put in place any safeguards against interference (which we know for a fact happened last time), an election that is likely to be full of anger and protests because our country is more divided than ever, I want to ask those same people who either voted for him – or couldn’t bring themselves to vote for – GASP – a Democrat, exactly how bad does it have to get before you stand up for your country, our democracy and most of all, DECENCY?

One argument I hear is “yeah, he’s an idiot, but I like his policies”. Never mind that you’re on board with allowing a terrible and wholly unqualified human being to hold the highest office in our land – one who cheats, lies, lines his own pockets with taxpayer money, refuses to show his tax returns, and demonstrates racism, misogyny and constant signs of utter dim-wittedness on a myriad of issues – I can’t get past that, of course – but let’s talk about those policies you like so much (and do check my hyperlinks for factual back-up of all of these points, in case you’re inclined to do as Trump does and question the legitimacy of a free press in a Democratic society).

Do you like his idea that he can order American businesses to do what he says? You used to call that “socialism” (though most of you don’t even know what socialism actually means nor have you ever lived in a country that practices it) and you railed against it constantly when Obama was president. But I guess you’ve decided you like it now?

Are you a fan of the tariffs and trade wars he has initiated that are causing rising prices and damaging our economy? Funny, I thought you conservatives would never want to do anything to harm farmers, businesses, the American consumer and the precious economy, but I guess you’ve changed your mind.

Perhaps you fiscal conservatives are fond of the record deficit that this White House occupant has driven up during his past three years in office? You complained continually that we had no money to pay for education, infrastructure, healthcare and other priorities that might help America lead in the 21stcentury because you said they would cost too much. But the tax cuts for the wealthiest 1% were cool and so is funding all those Mar-a-Lago and Trump resort trips and don’t forget that border wall that Mexico was going to pay for! $1.067 trillion in debt – the highest the debt has been since 2012, in the aftermath of the financial crisis? I guess you must have changed your mind on those fiscal policies you claimed to favor.

I’m guessing you must be a big fan of the idea to hold secret meetings with the Taliban – a terrorist organization that harbored and helped the people responsible for 9/11 – on U.S. soil?And the timing – just before 9/11- was impeccable, right? Remember when some of you called Obama a Muslim and thought he was in bed with the radical extremists? Even finally doing what the Bush administration couldn’t and killing Bin Laden wasn’t enough to convince you that Obama had America’s best interests at heart, but I guess Trump convinced you that he did when he ignored the pleading of his third and now departed National Security Adviser, his Vice President and I’m guessing nearly everyone else who tries their best to advise the unadvisable, and invited the Taliban to a little get-together on American soil…then tweeted out his cancellation of the meeting. Maybe you ought to start reading something into the fact that this administration has had a record number of job-holders vacate their positions just three years in? Maybe you should also take a look at how many of these folks related to the Trump campaign and administration have been indicted – by Robert Mueller…a Republican. Perhaps you should also remember that the only reason Trump wasn’t? Because Mueller and his team came to the conclusion that a sitting president cannot be indicted. They never said he wasn’t guilty.

I guess like most conservatives (and – you’d be surprised – a lot of liberals), you think that we need to reform immigration policy. But I guess if you like Trump’s policies, you’re in favor of separating young children from their parents, putting them in terrible conditions that will undoubtedly affect them not just physically, but mentally, for years to come – something other countries have clearly called out as a human rights violation – and doing so indefinitely. Yeah, big fan of cruel and unusual punishment to helpless children, myself…

Perhaps you like the shifting of $3.6 billion in military construction initiatives towards building that border wall that Mexico was supposed to pay for? Oh, I know, you’d be out in the fields picking strawberries, doing your own damn gardening and sending your housekeeper on her way if it wasn’t for all those Mexicans taking those jobs you so want for yourself. But do you really believe building a wall that requires taking away land from private citizens and will only be possible if we take funding from the military that conservatives profess to love so very much is a good policy? I guess you aren’t convinced that this is a supremely bad idea – not even after the U.S. Air Force report that shows that diverting funding from the 51 targeted projects will actually pose national security risks? I guess not.

Maybe your favorite policy is the introduction of that rule that says those serving in our military – serving our country and living on military bases abroad –  now cannot guarantee U.S. citizenship for any children born to them abroad? Because you’re a patriot and you stand behind our military, don’t you? So you’re certainly on board with taking away their rights as citizens of the U.S. when they’re – you know – serving the U.S. interests abroad.

Maybe you’re just a big NRA fan and not part of the 90% of Americans who are tired of watching mass shooting after mass shooting take innocent lives and want better background checks and gun controlI can certainly understand that you like the Trump policy of doing whatever the NRA tells him to do. And you probably forgot that even under your conservative hero, Ronald Reagan, we enacted gun legislation that worked.

Speaking of Reagan, who must be rolling in his grave at this point, you must have forgotten that he was actually quite an environmentalist because it seems you’re in favor of all those Trump roll-backs of anything Obama’s EPA did to ensure our water and air stays clean, that polluters are punished, and that we try to move into the 21stcentury by using things like energy-efficient lightbulbs. Well, but he has such a good argument, that you’re surely in favor of, right? The lightbulbs “make him” orange, after all, and well, if Obama did it, it must be bad. I guess you think policies should be based on good reasons like this and we should enact them via tweets.

Do tell which of these policies exactly allow you to continue to put blinders on when faced with the despicable behavior of a man that – if you’re honest – you would NEVER associate with in your everyday life. Had your sister met this guy in high school, you would have, as Joe Biden says, taken him behind the gym and beat the hell out of him. If your brother was friends with this guy, you would have gone right to your parents to let them know that you were worried about the crowd your sibling was hanging around. If your parents said they were thinking about going into business with this guy – a guy that has bankrupted nearly all of his endeavors – you’d tell them they were crazy and to stay away from the con man. The guy has been married three times, dumping his previous wives for the one that came after, he has paid off porn stars, and there is video evidence of him saying horrifyingly sexist and misogynistic things. He has called Nazis “fine people” while refusing to call out white supremacy. He has told more than 12,000 lies or misleading claims since taking office. But I get it. Those policies you love are worth having this guy lead and represent our country and be a role model to young children across the country. After all, you’re for family values and boy does Trump model them like no other, right? The saddest thing – I’m how many pages in? And I have barely scratched the surface of the awful things Trump has done in just three years.

Let’s be honest: both the man and the policies stink and you’re afraid to put aside your partisan views and vote for your country, its democracy and ideals first. Stop telling us the lies about loving his policies. You didn’t love them before. You don’t love them now. You only love the idea of blind loyalty to a party and hatred for the one that opposes it.

I’m a life-long Democrat and liberal (though I have voted for a Republican before because, when faced with a bad person, I vote for the good one). I didn’t vote for Nixon, Bush the first, Reagan, or Bush the second. But I lived through them. And I’m no worse off today because of any of them. And while I vehemently disagreed with many of their policies, I never for a second doubted that they loved their country and had its best interests at heart. You know that’s the same for you with Carter, Clinton and Obama whether you voted for them or not, whether you liked or hated them, whether you want to admit it or stubbornly refuse to do so.

I don’t know how much worse it has to get before good people (or what I thought were good people) decide that a very bad man should not be allowed to sit in the highest office of our land and represent our country on the world stage. I don’t know how much worse it has to get before these good people recognize that no policy is worth allowing a liar and a cheat who demeans people constantly, to get richer and more powerful at our expense. I don’t know how much worse it has to get before these same people admit that they were wrong, that they’re just clinging to a party-first mindset and ignoring the fact that none of these policies are actually things they want or agree with. And I don’t know how long before they will see that by accepting this man, these policies, they are allowing our country to lose its way, allowing our democracy to be threatened, and our place in the world to be diminished, and that these things pose real danger for real people everywhere. I don’t know how long before good people realize that history will look back on them some day with shock and horror that they allowed a criminal to sit in the White House and spread corruption across our Nation.

Good people make mistakes. But if they are truly good people, they are big enough to admit them and do all they can to correct them. If you’re one of these people, and faced with all that we’ve seen in the past three years, still can’t bring yourself to vote for anyone who runs against this corruption and criminality, then I have to say, I just don’t know how long I can call you “good people” anymore.

You Don’t Know How it Feels…Or Maybe You Do.

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I had last seen Tom Petty in 1981. I wasn’t about to miss what was billed as his 40th anniversary tour with the Heartbreakers and what he, himself, said might be his last tour. And turns out, sadly, he was right about that “last” bit.

Well, it was nearly Summer as we sat on your roof
Yeah, we smoked cigarettes and we stared at the moon
And I showed you stars you never could see
It couldn’t have been that easy to forget about me

It seemed an eternity between the time I bought the tickets – as soon as they went on sale – and the night we finally walked up the familiar path to the Hollywood Bowl. Side note: you haven’t really lived until you’ve experienced the magic of the Bowl in the waning days of summer. Or in Los Angeles, well into September, during what…

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It’s Not Just Politics

The past few days have been tough. Following what will likely go down as one of the most bitter elections in U.S. history, America has elected Donald Trump – a morally (and literally, six times over) bankrupt man with no experience in governing or world affairs who ran a hateful and divisive campaign.

I’ve been posting to social media. A lot. At first it was the only way I could process and make sense of the situation. And then it actually became somewhat comforting to share thoughts and feelings with all of the other people I know who are equally dismayed about the future of our country.

Many people misunderstand the sadness and anger. No, it isn’t because “my team lost”. This is not a football game. This is real life, the future of a country and its people, what electing this kind of person means not just in terms of policies he might set and enforce, but the kind of climate we live in – what is acceptable and what is not.

I’ve battled with the fight or flight syndrome. Stay and put up the best fight I can? Or move to a place like Canada or Sweden that better suits my values? I realized that while flight could be a long-term prospect (and I’m awfully thankful my daughters are dual citizens), at least I’m fortunate enough to live in a state that overwhelmingly voted against Trump and is filled with people who believe in equality for all and many other values I hold dear.

So what do writers do in these times? Write. Write to make sense of it all. Write for purposes of release and catharsis. Write to share with others and perhaps, gain understanding.

The first point I’ve had to battle with friends or acquaintances who either voted for Trump, voted third party or simply – and worse – didn’t vote at all, is that it’s just politics, it’s only four years, move on and come together. That he’s just one man.

  1. Point One: It isn’t just politics this time, folks. It’s the future our children and grandchildren and it’s the kind of country we want to live in. When you elect someone to the highest office of your land,  you’re saying that this person – and all they say, do and embody – represents your country to its children and to the rest of the world. You hold the person to a higher standard and you hold him or her accountable for his or her behavior. To elect a man who ran the most hatred-filled and divisive campaign in history, someone who demeaned and assaulted women, who threatened to ban all Muslims, who referred to immigrants as rapists and criminals, who has offended African-Americans, Jews, the disabled and LGBT people, says something about your country and who you want to lead it. It isn’t just politics. The electing of this man to our highest office is not just politics as usual. It is unprecedented.
  2. Point Two: It isn’t just four years, but let’s talk about those four years. In those four years, so much progress could be rolled back and so much damage could be done. Trump will likely appoint several Supreme Court justices. These Court appointments are for life and those justices could make decisions that affect the present – and future – of every American. If you’re a white male living in America, you may not see much at stake. But already we’re seeing the effects of electing someone who has spewed racist, misogynistic, homophobic and xenophobic rhetoric, seemingly making it “normal” and “ok” when it is anything but that. We’re seeing a rise in hate crimes, bullying and excitement among groups like the KKK, who suddenly feel their positions have been legitimized and they can operate as if they are normal – rather than unwanted and despised elements of society. I hear people claim that Trump is not responsible for that, nor are the good people who voted for him, voted third party or didn’t vote. I beg to differ. Trump spewed the rhetoric, incited the violence, called his comments about grabbing women’s genitals just “locker room talk” and because we as a country did not reject any of this, we have given the signal that all of it is ok – more than ok , he somehow deserves to hold the highest office in our land. This is beyond despicable. Yes, I’m having trouble coming to terms with the fact that not only did people in this country vote for him, but many people did not do all they could to stop him.  I have gay, immigrant and Muslim friends, and at least half of my family are Jewish and women, and you’d better believe that we are all worried and fearful of what the next four years hold. Only four years? For a white male, perhaps. For the rest of us, it isn’t just about the policies a Trump administration could put in place, it’s about the climate of our country where it is suddenly ok to hate and discriminate against all of these groups of people.
  3. Point three: Move on and come together. I see the wisdom in not spending my days posting on social media. I can’t be angry forever. I can’t cry many more tears. But I will not “move on” and “come together” under someone whose message was the exact opposite. Trump and his supporters drove a hard line of division into this country and his election lit a fire under all those who would hate and discriminate against people of color, immigrants, women, Jews and Muslims and LGBT -and I will NEVER come together under anyone who holds those views. Instead, I will do everything in my power to fight against the views and policies of Trump and those who support him, I will do everything I can to protect innocent people from falling victim to anyone who hates, bullies or tries to discriminate against them. Many think we are overreacting. Open your eyes, turn off Fox News and look at a variety of news sources both in and outside the United States right now. You will see exactly what I’m talking about. It’s ugly and I, for one, will not accept it.
  4. He’s just one man. Certainly. And we have a congress – now fully in control of the Republican party. Again, this isn’t about politics. While I am a registered Democrat, I have voted for Republicans in the past and I have many moderate Republican friends (most of whom wisely voted for Hilary Clinton) with whom I share both differences and similarities. I never felt the world was imploding when Ronald Reagan or George Bush the first were elected. Indeed, I was upset by the second election of George W. Bush and was horrified by the Iraq war quagmire, but I never thought our basic humanity, decency and all of the tenets our country was founded on were at stake. With this one man, they are. It’s possible that even without the checks and balances of Democrats leading the House or Senate, sane Republicans will curb Trump’s desire to radically change policy. But regardless of the policies – again – this isn’t just politics. It’s about human decency, equality, the way we behave with our fellow man and woman. I buy the argument that many good people voted for him because they wanted change or hated Clinton, but they still knew the full package they were getting and those who couldn’t bring themselves to vote for anyone or at least not for Clinton, knew what Trump brought to the table. They knew he was endorsed by the KKK. They knew David Duke rallied for his election. They knew Putin and the Russians were hacking the DNC and rooting for Donald Trump. They knew that Trump was guilty of saying and doing horrific things against women and people of color because they HEARD and SAW it with their own ears and eyes. And yet – they still elected or allowed him to be elected. He’s just one man, but he has changed the climate of our country for everyone – especially those who are not white males.

To quote Dylan Thomas “do not go gentle into that dark night”. Or to quote my favorite NHL coach, “We will not go quietly.” I will not go gently or quietly. I will speak up. I will use my voice. I will use my actions. I will watch where each dime I spend goes. I will fight against Trump and everything his election says about this country and everything he stands for. Most of all, I will fight for those people who are endangered not just by potential policy changes but by the horrifying change of climate in this country where it’s suddenly ok to bully, hate, exclude and discriminate. In short, Trump’s vision of America? This will never, ever be my America.

Is This What it Sounds Like When Doves Cry?

when-doves-cryPrince died today. He wasn’t my favorite artist nor did I ever have the chance to see him perform. But he was certainly a touchstone for a time in my life that was peppered with equal measures of excitement, angst and emotional upheaval.

That time was the 1980s. I was at UCLA and life seemed to be spread out before me like a banquet, ripe for the tasting. You didn’t escape Prince on the radio or on the newly-launched MTV back then whether it was “Little Red Corvette”, “Controversy”, “1999” or his masterpiece, “Purple Rain”. In the early 1980s, when I turned my borderline obsession-compulsion with going to aerobics classes into a part-time job, Prince’s “I Would Die for You” was featured on my very first aerobics tape (that’s right: cassette tape). It was a fun time to be young. I think Prince knew that.

This isn’t just about Prince, though. It’s about David Bowie, Glenn Frey or any of the many talented musicians out there that bring us joy, pain and sorrow through their art. And it’s about the actors, writers, painters, athletes that are all part of the fabric of our lives and to which we form an attachment. It’s about emotional investment.

Some people call me “passionate”. I am ultra-aware that I am often too emotionally-invested in things that bring me pleasure, but in equal measures, pain. It’s why I am an easy target for taunting when my Los Angeles Kings or UCLA Bruins lose. It’s why in my work life, I often follow my clients to their next job and their next, and why I sometimes go to bat beyond the point of reason for a decision I disagree with. It’s why I cried when David Bowie died. And again when I heard about Glenn Frey. And again, today, for Prince.

Partially, it’s about feeling your own mortality. If Bowie and Frey and Prince are gone at ages that are now not too far from my own, I am suddenly cognizant of how fast time is moving and how little time might be left. In part, it’s the reminder of people I used to know, places I used to go, things I loved and lost, memories that are stored away but brought quickly to the surface just by hearing a few notes. I’ll never hear “Young Americans” and not remember a particular summer between junior and senior year of college when two of my friends – one, a summer love – painted my Mom’s living room in exchange for beer and that song blared from the speakers. I’ll never hear “I Can’t Tell You Why” and not think of my college roommate who loved – and actually possessed the vocal chops – to sing it around our apartment on Gayley Avenue. I’ll never hear “Baby I’m a Star” and not think of the little aerobics studio in La Jolla where I first started teaching and where my summer was a blur of teaching classes, riding my bike to the beach and drinking margaritas at Jose’s Cantina.

Certainly, it begs the question: is such a fervent emotional investment worth it?  My girls sometimes make fun of my intensity watching hockey games or my excitement at a concert. Or wonder why I would cry over the death of someone I never knew personally. I tell them it’s not just about the game or the team or the artist or the song. It’s about what it all represents. And it’s simply inevitable that anything that gives you so much happiness when it’s all going well, is going to bring you sorrow when it doesn’t.

Is it worth it? As I listen to “Purple Rain”, feeling a familiar pang as the memories shelved long ago flood over me, I want to say no, but I know that’s not true. For me, the answer can only be yes. A resounding and emphatic yes.

The Thing Worth Remembering: Thoughts on the Anniversary of September 11th

 

imagesWe awoke to an unremarkable Southern California day. That is to say, it was brilliantly sunny and warm with blue skies – unremarkable for our little corner of the Earth.

It was a workday and a school day and like most families, we were preoccupied with our morning routine. My husband and I were getting our then-eight year old ready for school and preparing breakfast for our then-three year old. I would take our oldest to school, our nanny would arrive so my husband could go to work and then I’d head into my home office to start my workday.

The phone rang. It was my Mother.

“Are you watching the news?” she said, a little breathless.

“No, we don’t have the TV on in the morning,” I answered, a bit irritably. Our days were typically a jam-packed juggling routine and I didn’t have time to watch — much less chat about – Good Morning America or whatever else was on that time of morning.

“Turn it on,” she commanded. “You won’t believe what’s happening. New York is under attack.”

Like millions of Americans, I tuned in that morning and for weeks could not tune out. Smoke was billowing from one of the World Trade Center towers. The scene was unreal – like something out of a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. This couldn’t be the actual news, could it?

We stumbled through our routine that morning, in a murky haze of uncertainty. Our younger daughter was too little to understand what was happening. Our older daughter had a vague notion that something bad had happened and airplanes had crashed into important buildings in New York, but of course, at that time of the morning, no one knew the hows and whys. Would school be cancelled I wondered? As the scene unfolded before us on TV, the entire country woke up to the nightmare of September 11th. Neighbors and friends began calling and talking, wondering and worrying. Did we know anyone on those planes? In the towers?

I remember scattered fragments of the day.

I remember taking my older daughter to school, reassuring her that everything was fine and it was a safe place to be, all the while realizing that my whole notion of “safe” had been turned upside down. Nowhere was safe. Every parent dreads the day when his or her children begin to realize that Mom and Dad can’t protect them from all the bad things in the world and the events of September 11th underscored this all too well. The tragic events brought home for all of us the fleeting nature of life, the way it can all be swept away so suddenly and without any warning.

I remember arriving at our elementary school, walking my daughter to the square in the center where the students recited the pledge of allegiance, the administration made announcements and the teachers and students lined up to file into their classrooms every morning. On this completely foreign morning, our principal talked to us about how important routine can be when and event like this occurs and how letting our children attend school and have a “normal” day was the best thing we could do for them. We envied our children their normal day in the middle of such an abnormal circumstance.

Parents who had barely spoken to each other before, hugged in the courtyard and clung to each other, speaking in hushed tones about waking to the tragic news. We left our children reluctantly, knowing how hard this simple act would be today. It was pre-smartphone and pre-social media days – we did not know how we’d wait six hours to see or hear from our most precious treasures.

I remember that no one could focus on work that day and no one expected us to. My husband stayed home. We took a walk around the lake by our house in the afternoon. We still didn’t know how to process what had happened. The skies were eerily quiet since no planes were allowed to fly.

That night, I remember not being able to sleep, laying in bed, listening to the complete and utter silence outside and wondering if it was over, if the terrorists were done, or if there would be more devastation. We still didn’t know all of the details and Los Angeles was mentioned as a potential target. I remember thinking that this sort of thing just didn’t happen in our country. But now it had.

Over the next few days, details emerged, names and photos of the missing and dead began appearing. All of us felt touched deeply by the tragedy, but we also all knew someone who had been affected more personally, whether they had been in New York at the time, had family there or had a loved one who worked in the twin towers. Some of us even had family and friends who died that day. It was a painful time and tears flowed easily.

A few nights later, our neighbors, like many others across the country, gathered at our community park just up the street from our house, with candles lit to remember the fallen, to pay tribute, just to be with each other in our sorrow and grieve together. We had a new family who had just moved into the house across the street and diagonally from ours. I had not met them yet, but when I stepped outside that evening, the parents sat on their front porch with their two year old daughter in their arms, holding candles, the Mom with tears streaming down her face. We acknowledged each other with a small wave, understanding that we didn’t need to speak.

The remarkable thing is that it still hurts. To watch the footage of the towers falling still causes me to gasp and turn away. To watch video of the tributes from those in the public eye on that day, whether it be interviews with the firefighters and police who valiantly stayed to search and repair, addresses by Mayor Giuliani, the late night talk show hosts or the stoic news anchors who simply couldn’t remain stoic, still brings tears to my eyes. I know I am not alone.

But what also remains is the feeling of bonding together during that time – not just friends, family and neighbors, but even those we barely knew, the strangers on the street, the heroic first responders we might never know save their weary faces in newspapers and TV, those we never agreed with and might still not, but in whom we found temporary kinship and solace. We were all impacted by this terrible nightmare. We were all one nation.

Though “cherish” is a strange word to use when remembering a terrible tragedy, that bond we felt to our fellow humans may be the thing I cherish most from those long and sad days. With so many things about that day we don’t want to recall, that human bond, the way we came together in love and acceptance, may be the one thing we so desperately need to remember and cling to each and every day of our lives.

It’s a New Year…How about those Resolutions from the Last Year?

And so, it’s January again.  Time to take stock and look back at the New Year’s resolutions that have come and gone. While I say I’m not one to make resolutions, I did, in fact, make a small list of things I wanted to work on last year.  How’d I do? Well, let’s just say that of the six I listed in last New Year’s blog post, I probably made some minimal progress on three of them. Hey, that’s a solid half, right?!

The issue with resolutions is that, once made, we need checkpoints to assess how we’re progressing and take action when we’re not making progress. Just like at work, there are certain milestones that need to be checked off the list and progress reports, if you like, need to be turned in.  I don’t know about you, but given I have to be accountable for these kinds of activities at work, I’m not likely to hold myself to that same structure on the personal front!

How, then, do we actually resolve and take action to improve certain areas of our life? It seems trite to simply say “I plan to be a better person in 2014”, but really, that’s the heart of it all, isn’t it?  Being kinder. Less irritable. More patient. Less hurried. More giving. Less judgmental. More understanding. Less stressed.

So this year, I’m going to give myself a break from the traditional list, knowing full well that putting in place the measurements necessary to ensure success is something I just won’t take the time to do.  I resolve in 2014 only this: to be a better person, in whatever way I can be.  That means taking time to connect with those I care about, rather than getting too wrapped up in the minute details of the day. It means making sure that all my good intentions don’t remain just that…that I occasionally take action and give to that charity, spend time doing something that yields no personal return for me or simply deciding to be understanding, rather than judgmental in situations that test my patience.  It means ignoring the insufferable, materialistic social media posts that clutter my news feeds and remembering that my family values experiences over things. Maybe it’s as simple as letting that car cut in front of me without swearing to myself or giving a stranger in the grocery store a complement, just because.

I know. It sounds like a lot of rainbows and fluffy puppy talk. But sometimes I think the world could use a little more of that. And a little less of the standard “10 Ways to Improve Your Life”.

Happy New Year, everyone. Enjoy 2014, however you resolve to do so.

Am I Still A Writer?

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Once a writer, always a writer…until doubt enters the picture, that is.  Every writer knows that to really call yourself a writer, there’s only one thing you must do and that is…write. It’s as simple as that. John Grisham was recently interviewed by the LA Times and was asked about the discipline it must take to write one or two books every year. Grisham said his goal each year is to begin writing on January 1st and end by July 1st. And within that timeframe, he writes five days a week, for three or four hours every morning.

To the average worker, that probably sounds like luxury, working only three or four hours per morning, but if you’re an aspiring writer, you know that three or four hours per day of writing is quite a bit. It takes discipline to sit in front of the empty page and fill it.  The ideas don’t always come easily and when they do, sometimes the words are lethargic and jumbled, not elegant and flowing.  It is trying. It can be depressing. It can make you stop writing altogether.

Those of you who follow this blog have witnessed this in action. One day I was full of ideas and writing regularly. The next morning, I woke up and realized five months had passed without a word. There are no explanations or excuses really.  Sometimes it works that way. It just stops.  In the interim, there has been much to do. Work. Family. Reading books. Watching hockey. Laundry. Dinners with friends. There is always something, but nothing that should really stop a writer from writing?

Am I still a writer if I do not write? Ideas spring forward in the mind but never make it onto paper.  Writing is happening…in my head, but not on the page. Am I still a writer? Maybe. Time will tell. Stay tuned and watch this page.

Summer is the time for adventure…so off we go!

Unknown-2Summer is finally here. The air is warm, school is out and I’m yearning for the more relaxed pace that we associate with summer days. Never mind that daughter #2 had to be at her morning swim practice at 6:15am every day the past week and there was still work to be done. In the back of my mind, I knew our vacation was nearly here, so it made the getting up and pushing through just a bit easier.

But this summer we won’t be lying on a beach or sipping margaritas poolside. Tomorrow we leave for the hubby’s homeland, a two-week sojourn to Sverige, followed by five fabulous days in Paris.  Yes, first there will be packing, airports, long flights, jet lag and adjustment, but  once we make it through all of that, it’s time for adventure!

UnknownFirst stop: Uppsala, where hubby’s parents live, just north of Stockholm. We’ll spend the first week there, visiting family, friends and some moose (seriously), and definitely partaking in some good food and drink. On the must-haves list: nice, strong, Swedish coffee, tunnbrudsrulle (a Swedish-style hot dog…look it up!) and mjukglass – essentially, Swedish soft-serve ice cream. Oh, and maybe some aquavit to wash it all down.  A few days into our stay in Uppsala, daughter #1 will leave us to join the local Uppsala swim club for several days of training camp to prepare for Swedish Nationals. Luckily for her, nearly every Swede I’ve ever met speaks English and her roommate will be a Swede who attends college and swims in the U.S., so they should have plenty of common experiences to share.

imagesSecond stop: Halmstad, Sweden, in the Southern part of the country. Unbelievably, my world traveler husband and his family have never visited this part of their homeland, so it will be a new experience for all. The city is located right on the ocean and is the site for this year’s Swedish Nationals swimming competition. We’ll see the sights and watch daughter #1 compete.  It will be a great international experience for her and my in-laws will be able to watch her compete live for the first time.

After two weeks in Sverige, we’ll take our leave of hubby’s family and just the four of us will travel to Paris for five days. I haven’t been to the City of Lights since I was 18 and fresh out of high school, and while I”m sure many things have changed, I’m hoping that more of them have not. Daughter #2 can’t wait and has her brand new camera packed and ready to take all those classic shots by the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe. For my part, I hope that if I try to dust off my four years of high school French, I won’t be met with same blank stares I faced the first time around.Unknown-3

When our European/Scandinavia adventure comes to an end, I’m sure we’ll all be ready to come home and get back to our usual routines, but I feel grateful for the time to embark on this adventure with my family.  For me, one great experience is worth so much more than all the things we could be spending our time (and money) on…I’m pretty sure my kids will soon forget that first iPod they received for the holidays, the new shoes and dress they got for a high school dance or the fact that after 15 years in the same house, we never remodeled our very old and outdated kitchen. But trips like this? I hope they will remember. I know I will.

Post Play-off Depression: It’s All About Connecting

UnknownWhen I was nine years old, my family moved to Atlanta, GA for a couple of years, settling into a lovely little apartment complex called Windy Hill Village, notable for nothing much but its proximity to downtown and the newly built Omni Center. The Omni Center was the home of the then-Atlanta (now Calgary) Flames hockey team. Because of its location, Windy Hill Village boasted not only the Rubin family as its residents, but also most of the Atlanta Flames hockey players. Somehow, my parents became friendly with a few of the players and next thing I knew, we had become hockey fans. I could name all of the players (to this day, I remember Captain Keith McCreary, Ernie Hickey, Jacques Richard and goaltender Dan Bouchard) and loved boasting to my classmates that I actually knew these guys personally! For the first time in my young life, I felt the excitement of attending a live sporting event, the bonding that occurs with a crowd of people all chanting the same thing in a great big arena, the emotional connection one develops with a local team – particularly, when you know the players personally.51LTCH15-9L._SL500_AA300_

Cut to many years later, after living in a hockey-less San Diego for most of my teens, attending UCLA where football and basketball were front and center, finally settling down to love, life, marriage and kids with a Swede who played hockey growing up. The fires were rekindled a bit and then, when our oldest daughter went off to college, befriending a couple of Canadian hockey fans (yes, I recognize that’s redundant) and realizing that she also enjoyed the game, it was time to really reconnect with the sport and our local team, the L.A. Kings. It didn’t hurt that the Kings were experiencing a resurgence that would soon lead to a 2012 Stanley Cup win – just in time for us to remember what it was like to be part of an entire city rejoicing over a shared victory.

Cut to this year when after watching nearly every game either from our couch or at Staples Center, after heated rivalries with friends and colleagues, Twitter wars, Facebook posts and many evenings of bonding over the details of a game, our beloved Kings have just been pushed out of the play-offs, after a valiant effort to win game 5 against a powerful Blackhawks team. There is a sudden empty feeling now that our team’s season is over – not just sorrow for their loss, but a definite void where it feels like something more important than just a hockey series is missing.  It made me wonder what this hockey passion is really all about.  What is it about this weird, emotional investment we humans make in a sports team that is so compelling and at times, all-encompassing?   Is it as simple as sharing a common interest with other humans? Is it living vicariously through the players, being competitive in a way that you might never get to experience on your own? Or is it deeper than that, the thrill of being part of something larger than ourselves, a connection to humanity that sometimes goes missing in our everyday lives, particularly now that connections are less face-to-face and personal, and more online and distant.

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Even if you have no passion for hockey, football, baseball or any other sport, you may still understand this urge to be part of something larger than yourself. If you have a favorite band, think of how it feels to be in a crowd of people at that band’s concert, all singing the same words to the same song, surrounded by a shared connection that seems to transcend a simple concert performance. (Anyone who has seen U2 live must know what I’m talking about, right?)

I’m sure in a few days, I’ll go back to “life before hockey season” where I am not racing to finish up my work so I can don my jersey and join my hubby on the couch or pick up our younger daughter early from school so we can battle the freeway traffic down to Staples Center to make it to our seats before warm-up starts.  There are plenty of things to occupy all of us until the fall and soon, the normal routines will again take over and my Twitter and Facebook posts will not longer be all about that bad call or that amazing goal in the last 10 seconds of regulation. But I’ll still be looking forward to the next season, the next game, the next opportunity to share in that connection to something bigger than me – a way to share an experience that is all at once exciting, emotional, aggravating and compelling with my family, my friends, my team, my city, with the other humans who share the planet – and a passion for hockey with me.