Sights and Sounds of New York City

I'm struck by how different the sounds are here in New York City, compared to my new home in the UAE.

Brooklyn Museum

Frankie & Zadie in front  of Brooklyn Museum

The things I hear coming from outside my window in Brooklyn are varied.

Folks walking by in conversation - English sometimes; Spanish at other times.

Cars driving by.

Cars driving by with loud music blaring - sometimes hip hop, other times Spanish.

Dogs barking.

Police sirens.

Ambulances.

Planes going by.

On the subway, there are even more sounds.

Subway Sign for Coney Island

The rumbling of the subway trains as they weave in and out of neighborhoods carrying the masses.

Where is everyone going?

I listen to the conversations and chatter among the riders.

They're in English, Spanish, Chinese, Russian (maybe), French, etc.

What a melting pot.

What a city!

My favorite sounds of all though, are the sounds that Zadie makes.

Zadie at the New York Aquarium

Hearing her beginning to talk.

Hearing her laughter, and squeals when she's excited.

Hanging out  with Grandma Faye

Hearing her voice her opinion, sometimes rather forcefully, warms my heart.  It may be a challenge for her parents now, but her strong will will serve her well when she grows up and is facing situations where she'll need to stand up for herself.

Already a shopper

I'm confident she will do just fine.

She and I have been hanging out, having a great time.  Today we went back to Coney Island, and this time visited the New York Aquarium.  There were lots of preschool kids there on field trips, so Zadie had lots of company about her age.

Ready for the  road

Tomorrow, we're scheduled to visit Ellis Island.

There is no better way to experience the sights and sounds of New York, than with my girl Zadie Faye.

Random Traveling Observations

I arrived in New York on Friday afternoon.  It's great being back in the states.


I jotted these thoughts down during the time I was waiting for my flights, on the plane and on the layover in Italy.
  
Very few folks were in national dress; there were a couple of women in abayas & burkas, and they were with guys in shorts and t-shirts.

Dubai airport = spectacular!

PDA (public display of affection) = rarely seen in UAE, but evident in airport with some Arabs couples

The passenger scooter (that rides folks through the airport) sounds like chirping birds when the driver blows the horn alerting folks he's nearby.

What's the story with balding guys who have beards.  Are they trying to divert our attention from their heads to their faces?

Just saw a young white kid with cornrows.  Why?

At 2:00 in the morning, it has cooled down to 91 degrees.

My cab driver from Al Ain to Dubai was Pakistani and very knowledgeable about world affairs.

I'm seeing more blonds than I've seen since I arrived here in November.

Women of color can get away with not wearing makeup; our white sisters, not so much.

There are lots of little kids - bright eyed and bushy tailed at 2:30 in the morning.

Guys in pink make a statement.  It's that they are sure of their masculinity.

Have you ever looked at someone who looked youthful until they turned around? Have I become that person?

Comb overs - who are these guys fooling, other than themselves?

What is it with folks, including my kinfolks and one of my teachers - with not combing their hair?  What about the ones who do comb it but they work hard to make it look messy?  Who decided that was attractive?  If a combed head is old fashion, consider me real old.

Announcements given in three languages on the flight to Milan:  Arabic, English & Italian

Flight attendants' uniforms are regal.  They are worn with great pride by the Emirates Airline Crew.

Shocking how rude many of the passengers are to the flight attendants; it seems everyone (ok maybe not everyone) expects someone to wait on them; it is certainly strikingly evident in these parts.

A young lady fainted on plane.

There are some people who just naturally respond well in an emergency. The thing is, you have no idea how you'll respond until you find yourself in a critical situation.

I changed seats on the Milan to New York leg of the trip, so that a family with young kids could sit together.  I ended up sitting next to an extraordinarily interesting your man, who at just 25 years of age, had traveled the world.  Chatting with him certainly helped to make the time go by faster.


We arrived in New York almost an hour ahead of time!  


That extra time was spent waiting to get through customs though.  


That was OK, it was just good being back.


More soon.

Shackle Sneakers . . . REALLY???

 This is my second double post in as many days, but this is too outrageous not to share.

Shackled sneakers?

What's the intended message here?

Who is it geared to?

Who thought this was a good idea?

Apparently a whole lot of folks for it to get to market.

Note the picture at the bottom of the article.

Kudos to the Huffington Post . . . again.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/18/adidas-shackle-sneakers-controversy_n_1605661.html#s=1109374

A Hamburger Photoshoot

This captivating article was discovered in the Huffington Post today answering the question of why burgers look different in ads than they do in real life.  Be sure to check out the video.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/20/mcdonalds-advertising-behind-the-scenes_n_1611841.html

Juneteenth

Today is Juneteenth, the day that the end of slavery was announced in Texas.

Now . . .  a little history lesson for you and me.

President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, 1862.  It went into effect on January 1, 1863, but it took almost six months (June 19th) for the word to get to Texas.  Or maybe it took that long for it to be acknowledged.

Who knows?

Anyway, Black folks have been celebrating this day, in some form or fashion, ever since.

The celebration in Sacramento always included sweet potato pie.

Have a slice for me.

Paparazzi And Random Thoughts

Today I got a microscopic sense of what famous folks go through when cameras were flashing everywhere at an end-of-year celebration meeting I attended.

Cameras are huge in this culture, which is interesting because so many of the women cover up completely when the cameras come out.  However, be that as it may, every thing that is done, socially, in business, in their personal lives, etc., is captured and preserved on camera.

There was an Emirati gentleman who is a local/national "star," who was in attendance at this meeting.  Hence, the extraordinary presence of photographers.

Now to the random thoughts -

How many guys are needed to change a tire?  Apparently five, as there were that many on the side of the road, doing just that.  To be fair, they were young guys in national dress.  Changes are, changing tires is not something they've had a lot of experience doing.

Today I saw high school boys walking near their school.  This is the first time I've seen kids walking anywhere near a school.  As I've mentioned before, we have students who live across the street from our school, who ride the bus.  We went on a field trip that was a block away.  Yes.  We went by bus.

5th Grade Girls on field Trip to Cycle 2 & 3 (C2-3) School
(C2-3 = 6th thru 12 grade)

Speaking of buses, the 11 that service our school are still making their daily runs, but the students have stopped coming.  This Thursday is the official last day of school, but they stopped coming several weeks ago.  This is a cultural phenomena that we're trying to change.

I remember something a dear friend used to say - change is usually evolutionary, not revolutionary. 

So true.

Side note - The video below is of students performing at the 5th grade girls promotion ceremony.

The temperature continues to climb staggeringly high.  It was 111 at 6:00 pm yesterday.  Oftentimes there is a strong breeze, but the air is so hot, it feel like a fan is blowing air from an oven.

Anything under 105 is considered a cold front!

I've only recently begun using sunscreen, but I'm a faithful user now.

Final word -

Recent Camel Crossing

Recent Camel Crossing 2

Happy Father's Day!

I don't usually post twice a day, but I realized I forgot to mention Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there, and to you dads-to-be, too.

To all you dads who provide for your family . . . finances, security, support, and love . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who take the time to be with your family, when you could be hangin' with the guys . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who love your wives unconditionally, modeling how a man should treat a woman, to his kids . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who take the time to talk AND listen to your kids . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who provide support, but still gives his kids the room to grow and mature and make mistakes . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who remember what it feels like to blow "it," whatever "it" is, and provides comfort when your kids least expect it . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who are, and have been, role models to kids without a dad in their lives . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who recognize that parenthood is the greatest role you will ever have, and treat it as such . . . .

Thank you!

And

Happy Father's Day!

Best Explanation Yet

The N-word.

And who has the permission/right to use said word.

OK.

Clearly, this is a touchy subject.

But the video I've included provides the best explanation that I've seen on it yet.

Before I post the video, some thoughts.

Yes.  I know.

You're thinking . . . here she goes, on her one-woman philosophical journey.

No.  It's not that deep, nor am I.

All I know for sure is, this word has so many negative connotations.  I understand the argument that the rappers/artists use when they litter their lyrics with it.  I think it's an effort to take the "sting" away.

However, I'm reminded of the official dress code here in the UAE for women, which is basically to cover up from neck to toes.  Any yet, all of the malls have stores that sell some of the raciest clothes on the market.

If you don't want folks to wear this kind of clothes, don't sell it.

Likewise, if you're offended by other folks - other than Black folks - using this word, don't use it and throw it around casually, as if it's OK.

Part of the argument is a generational one.

I'm pretty sure my sons, and young folks their age, have a different take on this. They probably haven't seen, witnessed, or experienced the hatefulness associated with that word, certainly not to the degree that folks my age and older have.

So, what's the answer, then?

I don't know, but I like this guy's take on it.

What do you think?

http://vimeo.com/43636793
 

Another Lazy Day

Fridays are my "don't get out of pjs day."

I made the mistake of making an appointment last Friday, and reminded myself not to do that again.

I enjoy these days of doing nothing.

Well, I'm doing something, but it's reading and watching television.

I watched a movie that came out a while ago and had good reviews.  The title is "A Separation."  It's about a couple going through a divorce.  I don't usually watch this kind of stuff.  Who wants to relive a divorce?

However, this movie did not disappoint.

It takes place in Iran and involves a tough decision.  Do they stay in Iran and care for a parent with Alzheimer's, or move to another country to make a better life for their 12 year-old daughter?

Sometimes divorce isn't about falling out of love, but about sacrificing the relationship for the greater good, whatever that is.

It was thought provoking . . . my kind of movie.

Another favorite that I watched months ago is "A Better Life" that provides a personal view of the immigration debate.  It should be required viewing for everyone, no matter what side of the debate you're on.

Both are low budget, independent films.  Again, my kind of movies.

Side note -  Sunday is a holiday of some kind, and we have a day off from school. Yeah for holidays!

Side note 2 - My principal returned yesterday from her 4-5 month stay abroad, where she was with her sick mother.  It is great having her back.

Side note 3 - Generally speaking, no matter what the circumstance, when you ask an Arab how they are, they respond with "Thank God, all is well."  This is their response to whatever is happening in their life.  They believe that whatever happens, is the will of God, and not to be questioned.

It's a freeing way to live, don't you think?

Entitlement

I've seen entitlement from two extreme perspectives.

At one of my last schools in the US, all of the students received free breakfast and lunch, and all of their families were on aid.  We had several generations who continued to live in the neighborhood and they had attended the school too, which illustrated their status through the years had pretty much stayed the same.

We were fortunate in that the school was supported by many organizations, which included a wonderful church that provided backpacks of food on the weekends, and so many other things.  They even opened a clothes closet in an empty classroom so the staff could go in and get clothes for needy kids.

What was amazing to me though, was that no matter how much was provided, too often too many of the families were looking for more.

More handouts.

From the government.

From the church.

From the school.

From anyone willing to give.

You rarely got the sense that the things being done were appreciated.  What was clear was that most expected to be taken care of.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for the support that we have in place to help folks when they need it.  It has helped me, and many others along the way.  What I don't appreciate are the folks who sit back and wait for things to be handed to them as though the world owes them something.

Since I've been here, I've seen entitlement on the other end of the spectrum.

Many of the very wealthy folks also expect to be taken care of.

I'm sure this is common with folks of great wealth, but it is my first experience of seeing it first hand.

It's wonderful to see the systems that are in place to take care of the nationals.  It really is remarkable that the leaders made the decision to share the wealth.  This one decision alone is the reason there will never be an uprising in this country.

What's very sad though, is that there will always be people who take advantage of the system or are ungrateful for support that they receive, and this can happen at any level in the socio-economic ladder.

Through Thick and Thin

I'm so grateful for the men in my world, beginning with my brothers.

One of the lasting lessons Mom taught us was to "look after" each other, no matter what.

That started early when Forrest, who is ten years older than me, was busy most days babysitting my youngest brother, Terry and I.

He was fortunate to have a mentor and role model who guided him to college.  When it was time for me to go to school, he became my mentor and role model as he directed my steps and paid my way.  I would not have made it through college without his guidance and help.

When my twenty-year marriage came to an end and I was wallowing in self pity, it was my brothers who rallied around me.

When I was raising Ben and Frankie alone through the teenage years, they were in my corner.

When the boys graduated from college, they were there, standing with me.

When Ben had his accident, they came and provided tremendous support.

When I was living alone enjoying the freedom that comes from an empty nest, they were there cheering me on.

When I decided to make this journey so far from home, they were my champions, encouraging me every step of the way.

When it was taking forever-and-a-day to get final word on this move, they were there providing day-to-day support, refusing to let me give up on my dream.

Now that I'm here, they continue to cheer me on.

Have we always been this close?

No.  The many years between us was a barrier when we were younger.

But when Mom died, we made a conscious effort to stay in touch, and to be there for each other, no matter what.

I hope that you have a special relationship with your siblings.  If not, let me encourage you to do whatever it takes to get to that place.

I know my brothers will always correct me when I'm wrong; laugh at me when I goof up, and cry with me when I hurt.

So, to Willie, Forrest and Terry (deceased), thanks for always being there for me, no matter what.

Arabic Numbers

Arabic numbers are different than ours.  Numbers 1-10, along with their names, are listed below.

Arabic Numbers

My keyboard at work is in Arabic and English.  The same is true for the numbers - they're in Arabic and English, too.

Remember that you read Arabic from right to left, so when numbers are translated/transcribed, that has to be kept in mind or your numbers will be backwards.

Teaching kids how to write their numbers here is more challenging because of this, too.  Oftentimes when I'm covering a class I'll have the students to write the numbers from 1-100.  Many times they are transposed - 61 becomes 16; 29 becomes 92.  So, when I see that happening, I realize they have it, but because they learned their Arabic numbers going from right to left, they forget they need to go from left to right for English.  They usually catch on much faster than I would.

The only reason I've been able to pick up and remember some of the numbers, is because in most public places, you have to take a number, and when it's your turn, your number flashes on a screen.  The numbers always flash, and are spoken, in Arabic first.

Anyway, I hope you find this interesting.  

I sure do.

TEDx Al Ain - At Long Last

This is the video that I've been waiting to share with you.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zoDclDVj4M

Best Friends

What makes a friend, a "best friend?"

Does it have to be someone you've known a long time, or could it be someone new, or relatively new?

Is this person someone you can confide in, no matter what?

Does this person, in many ways, know you better than you know yourself?

Can this person be real with you, when no one else is willing to?

Is this the person you would call in the middle of the night?

Has this person stood with you through think and thin?  Would they?

Does this person need to be your spouse or significant other?

What if that person is not your spouse or significant other?  Does that present challenges?  Do you ditch the friend to keep the peace in your relationship?

Is this the person - although maybe you don't contact each other often anymore - that you can pick up a conversation with as if no time has elapsed?

What happens when you loose your best friend?  Do you search for another to fill the void, or do you rest with the memories you shared together?

Are best friends from college longer lasting than the ones from high school, or maybe even elementary school?

Does your best friend know they're your best friend?  Should they?  Does it matter if they know it or not?

Can you outgrow your "best friend" relationship?  How do you deal with resentment and hard feelings if that happens?

Are you missing out if you don't have a best friend?

Does someone consider you their best friend?

So many questions today.

And like many days, so few answers.

Camera Shy

A couple of weeks ago, there was a camera crew on campus from National Geographic.  They were filming footage for a documentary that will feature two of our students - a brother and sister.

We thought the focus was to be on the day-to-day life of the kids, but there were more questions about the way our school runs, and there were many questions about this education reform that we're very much a part of.

A variety of staff members were interviewed, along with members of the administration.  Thankfully, there was someone else who was much more excited about the prospect of being on camera than me, so she gladly filled in.

I was reminded of a time, in 1995, about this time of the school year, when circumstances thrust our family into the media spotlight.

In hindsight, I'm forever grateful for the support that came with the publicity, but it was a difficult time nonetheless.

Here's what happened.

Ben and Frankie were attending a Christian school, and had been a part of this school system for four years.  In 1995, Ben was a 13 year old 8th grader, and he was being recognized for his academic achievement.  He had earned straight A's in all grades, for all four years.  He was, in fact, the valedictorian of his class.  The middle school was modeled after the high school with this valedictorian position.

In anticipation of the big day, Ben got a haircut.  A very low, very typical haircut, seen on African-American boys everywhere.

Ben went to school, and was rehearsing the graduation/promotion service with his classmates, when one of the staff members noticed his haircut.  He was sent to the office, where a decision was made that he would not be allowed to participate in the ceremony because of his haircut.

There was a rule at this school against shaved heads because they were associated with Skinheads.

OK.

Again, the haircut was low, not shaved.  But, even if his head was shaved, how many black Skinheads do you know?

Long story short.

Ben was not allowed to be on campus or to participate in any of the end-of-the-year activities.  He was denied the opportunity to give the valedictorian speech.

Again, this was 8th grade.  I expected that we, his family, were the only ones who cared about this.

However, a dear friend and neighbor, thought differently.  She thought it struck a cord.  And as a writer for the local paper, she offered to cover it.

That led to extensive media coverage for several weeks.

It was even picked up by Bob Hebert, who until recently, was a columnist for the New York Times.

Fast forward to 1999.

Ben was the valedictorian of Jesuit High School.  There was a "where is he now" follow up in the media.

Fast forward again to 2010.

A staff member from the church/school contacted Ben through Facebook.  Ben was invited back to the church where the pastor publicly apologized for the school's action.  The current pastor had taken over for his father, who was the pastor when the incident occurred.  Again, there was media coverage.

As I said, I'm grateful this incident had a happy ending, but it was an incredibly stressful time while we were living it.  The media provided a platform to tell the story, but as a result, we were living in a glass house, with all that that entails.

I suppose the litmus test question is - what I/we do it again?

Yes.

Without hesitation.

I think Ben, and his accomplishments, were worth fighting for.

Two Articles Reflect Life in the UAE

The first one is about dressing modestly, or in many cases, not.

http://www.thenational.ae/news/uae-news/emirati-girls-launch-campaign-over-tourist-dress-code?utm_source=Newsletter&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=Daily%2BNewsletter%2B06-06-2012

The second is about a high school student thinking about the changes she'll face when going off to college.

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/lifestyle-comment/hesitant-to-leave-uae-luxury-for-university-living?utm_source=Newsletter&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=Daily%2BNewsletter%2B06-06-2012

Thoughts?

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger!

Tiger's winning today was big news.  He tied Jack Nicklaus with 73 wins.

I have mixed emotions about this.

On the one hand, I'm happy for him.  On the other, I'm still struggling to get over his infamous indiscretions.

I know.  I know.   I should practice what I preach and let it go.  I should forgive this low-down, dirty dog for his actions.

Why?

Not why should I forgive, but why does a guy like Tiger, with the world had his feet, feel the need to stoop so low?

We've seen it time and time again.  Powerful guys who scrape the bottom of the barrel, and for what?  A cheap thrill?

Why do they do it?

Is it really just because they can?

The men in my world think I should have let this go a long time ago.

I just couldn't let him off that easy.

Remember when I said I think like a man?  I take that back.  I'm all woman in my thoughts about this.  Guys are so much faster to condone this kind of nonsense.

Maybe that's it.  Maybe we women have been blessed with more common sense in this arena.

Whatever.

Guys (ok, people) are destined to do what they want to do, with whoever they want to do it with.

So, I'm letting go.

I just hope we've seen the last of this.

That's wishful thinking . . .  I know.

Temperatures Rising

We've been in triple digit heat for weeks now.  Some days don't seem quite as hot as others because of the warm breeze blowing.

Interestingly, in this heat, folks only drink water at room temperature.  None of the local folks will touch ice water.

One of our nurses can by and asked me for a bottle of water, which I gladly gave her.  She then attempted to reprimand me because it was cold.  She was quickly set straight.  In my world, in this heat, it will only be ice water.

Also fascinating is the fact that there doesn't seem to be any personal swimming pools either.  The only ones I know of are located in the hotels, and in apartment complexes.  I'm not sure if they're don't have them because of the custom of modest dress or the logistics of getting massive amounts of water out here.

As I said, we have a pool where I live that is on the roof of one of the buildings.  If it's 111 degrees on the ground, it must be 121 degrees on the roof!  That water is probably as warm as bath water.

Me, swimming?  No thanks.

Today I was at the mall and saw a guy sitting outside of Starbucks drinking coffee . . . in triple digit heat.  I was hot for him.

Thankfully, there is air conditioning, and it is everywhere.

I'm reading a moving story of a British woman who was here at the beginning of the wealthy period when money from the oil wells was (and still is) in great supply.  Her husband was a contractor for the Sheikh.  The Sheikh's two sons lived with her and her family in London, when they were there for school.  Her writing captures life 40 years ago, at the beginning of the extraordinary growth when she traveled back and forth and was spending a great deal of time here.  Forty-one years ago, the nationals were nomads living in tents in the desert.  Forty years ago, was the start of the mega-masions and skyscrapers seen all over this country today.

She speaks of daily blackouts when the local power source couldn't handle all of the electricity needed to cool the buildings.  Gratefully, that is no longer an issue.

Much of the book takes place here in Al Ain, and when she describes landmarks, I've seen these places, first hand.

Wherever you are, as summer quickly approaches, and you think about complaining about the weather, remember the heat I've described in these pages.  Chances are, those memories will cause you to be very thankful.

Sending cool thoughts your way.

Things I Learned From My Mom

If Mom were alive, she'd be 93 years old on June 15th.  She died in 1998, a week shy of her 79th birthday.

Her name was Rhilda Beverly.  I am named after her, but I have a middle name and use Faye because Rhilda has proven hard for people to pronounce and remember.

As I've mentioned before, Mom had very little formal education, but she had a PhD in common sense.  She only went to the 3rd grade in school, before she was pulled out to help work around the house.

I didn't fully appreciate her or her wisdom until I had kids of my own.  Then, I realized she was brilliant.

I find myself thinking about her and quoting her daily.

She used to say -

Choose your friends wisely.  


Tell me who you follow, and I'll tell you who you are.


Birds of a feather flock together.


Where there's smoke, there's fire.


Having money doesn't mean you have class.  


Being pretty will open doors; having sense will keep them open.


You can overdo anything (she liked saying this in reference to make-up and jewelry).


Be a child as long as you can and grow up when you can't help yourself.


The jailhouse is full of folks who were too cute to be disciplined when they were growing up.


If you don't discipline your kids, the police will, and you'll wish you had.


There's nothing cute about bad behaved kids.


If you don't discipline him at two, he'll be beating on you at 12 (referring to Ben who had a nasty habit of hitting and biting at two years old).


Always speak to folks, even if they don't respond.  You do your part, and let them worry about themselves.


The same God who took care of her here, will take care of her wherever she goes (when questioned about letting me go away to college; unheard of at that time and place).


If you stay on the right path, God will send someone to help you every step of the way.



Keep saying "good morning" (she would say when she talked about something that we couldn't fully understand yet).


As black folks, remember you have to be twice as good to go half as far.



Don't blow your own horn.  Let other people do that.  (I think this is why interviewing has always been tough for me).


Help others, while always remembering the people who helped you along the way.


Always be there for each other (a reminder to my brothers and I).


No matter how bad you think you have it, there's somebody, somewhere who has it worse off than you.


It is better to remain silent and thought a fool, than to speak up and remove all doubt (one of her favorite quotes found on a plaque hanging in her restroom).


When you choose to do what's right, everything else will work itself out.


Respect yourself and others will respect you.  


Always remember where you come from.


It is this last one that keeps me grounded.  No matter what happens or where I end up, I will always proudly be Rhilda Beverly's daughter - the country girl from China, Texas.

Making a Difference Through Music

I love Paul Simon.  Always have.  Some of my favorite songs are:

***Me & Julio Down by the Schoolyard
***50 Ways to Leave Your Lover
***Kodachrome
***American Tune
***Something So Right
***Loves Me Like a Rock
***Slip Slidin' Away

Treat yourself, and check them out on iTunes.  They're classics that will live on.

There's a new documentary about Paul and the making of his Graceland album in 1985, when he went to South Africa and, and defying a boycott, used local musicians.  This time was fraught with the reprehensible treatment of the native blacks and the danger that apartheid presented to them in their daily lives.

I'm sure this movie will be fascinating.  I can't wait to have the opportunity to see it.

You can find an opinion piece about this in the New York Times today.  The link follows:

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/30/opinion/friedman-paul-simon-takes-us-back.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=general

I was drawn to this article for two reasons:

First, I love Paul Simon.  Yes, I realize I'm repeating myself, but it bears repeating.

Second, having just visited South Africa, I feel I will have a better understanding of what the native black South African musicians - who were vital to the making of this album - went through.

There are no songs from the Graceland album that landed on my favorite list, but it was a breakthrough recording on so many levels.

It took courage for Paul to go against the grain of South Africa, and the African National Congress, who imposed the cultural ban.

He joins many courageous folks for standing up for what was right, in the face of serious opposition.

It's interesting how music provides the soundtrack of our lives.  In every important movement in the US, there were musicians who recorded the emotions of the time.

The Civil Rights Movement comes immediately to mind, and the great music from that era.

The Women's Movement, produced some incredibly powerful anthems on our liberation.

The Vietnam War, saw the making of many protest songs, that spoke of the anguish we were feeling as a nation.

This is a compelling argument for the support of the arts, because it is the arts, and especially music, that helps to define who we are at any given moment in history.

What does today's music say about us?

What We Learn & How We Learn in School

There's an intriguing quote from an article on the Salon website about Bruce Springsteen and his political journey - from basically being apolitical to the place now where he's comfortably making political endorsements.

True confession - I've never been a fan of his music.  It was always too hard rocky for my taste.

During a concert right after Ronald Reagan was elected president in 1980, he made his first public political comments.  You can find the whole article at the following link:

http://www.salon.com/2012/05/28/born_in_the_u_s_a_when_the_president_met_the_boss/?source=newsletter

The part of the article that was mesmerizing to me was this quote -

I never did good in school, never did good, and they always figured that if you’re not smart in school, it’s because you’re dumb. But I always felt that I never really learned anything, or learned anything that was important to me, till I started listening to the radio back in the early ’60s. And it seemed that the stuff that I was hearing off the radio in all those great songs was stuff that if they knew how, they’d be trying to teach you in school … but they just didn’t know how to. They always talked to your head, they could never figure out how to talk to your heart, you know. And it seems that, like all those singers and all those groups, there’s one thing that they just knew: what it was about. And when I started listening, I found out that the first time … that, instead of the fantasies that you have when you’re a little kid, I had dreams now and that they were different, it was different, and that if that was possible, that I didn’t have to live my life the way that I was, that things could be better. If you just go out, take a chance, find out what’s going on … - Bruce Springsteen, 1980.


Riveting, right?


Boy, did this cause me to reflect.  To think back.  Recognizing that reflection isn't always pretty.  And in this case, pretty scary would best describe it for me now.


How many kids have gone through my classes that I passed judgement on because of their lack of academic skills?  How many brilliant minds did I dismiss because I couldn't engage them in the prescribed lessons and required learning?  How many gifts and talents did I miss seeing in my students because they didn't perform the way I expected them to?  


How many students who were tossed aside grew up to do extraordinary things?  As teachers, do we recognize the power we hold?  The power to encourage, to promote and lift up.  And the power to discourage, demote and deflate.


What would I do differently if I went back to the classroom?


Would I be more patient and understanding, and more in tuned to the needs of my students, if given the opportunity for a "do over?"  


I hope so.  I really, really hope so.


Of course, knowing something intellectually is one thing; embracing it and using that knowledge to promote change, is another story altogether.


I shudder to think of the students I overlooked.  The opportunities missed.


As with parenthood - and what was done or not done as a teacher - the questions linger, waiting for time and history to judge.

Chocolate-Colored Camels

I spent the day in Abu Dhabi.  I was there for a meeting.  The highlight was sitting next to an acquaintance who shared some info on cruises.  I think that was the reason I was there.

Interestingly, this woman is a neighbor.  She lives on my floor, a few doors down, I think.  She also works next door to me in Um Ghafa.  However, I never see her, so we don't get a chance to chat much.

I'm working on plans to be someplace else during the massive heat wave expected soon, and the info she shared was most helpful.

Now about the scenery to and from Abu Dhabi -

Both ways, I was treated to sightings of dark chocolate-colored camels riding in trucks. I'm guessing they're rare because of the hundreds of camels that I've seen, I've never seen any this dark.  They're usually the color of sand, a golden brown.

These dark camels reminded me of the black squirrels on Stanford's campus.  They were seemingly a rare breed, too.  Of note - the black squirrels were mean and not at all interested in mingling with humans.  They simply occupied the same space as the folks on campus, reluctantly sharing it.  I wonder if there is a difference in the temperament of the different colored camels?  I'm betting someone, somewhere has done research on this very subject.  I should google it.

Maybe tomorrow.

It's late.  So, I gotta go.

Good night to me.  Good morning to you.

Jail Time

Warning:

This post is a little sleazy, but I wanted to share the cost of a roll in the hay.

http://www.thenational.ae/news/uae-news/couple-jailed-for-sex-out-of-wedlock

If we had this law in the US, they'd be a whole lot of folks in jail.

Thoughts?

New York, New York!

In less than a month, I'll be in New York for a week.  I'm really excited to be back in the US, if only for a short visit.

Frankie and his wife, Cara, are having a wedding ceremony, something they didn't have when they married almost two years ago.  I'm happy for them and I'm thrilled to be a part of the festivities.

Seeing Zadie tops my list of things to see and do.  She's 18 months old, and growing up so fast.

Today as we ended our video chat, she blew me a kiss goodbye.  The last time we chatted she said "I love you."  Precious!

It was years before I enjoyed motherhood.  Probably not until Ben and Frankie were grown and on their own did I really appreciate it.  When I was knee-deep in it, it was hard.

Being a grandma is a slice of heaven.  So much easier.  You get to enjoy the kids without the pressure of raising them.  I love this!

Funny, I didn't think I would be a doting grandma.  God knows, I wasn't a doting mom.  There was nothing warm and fuzzy about me or the way I did things, especially when it came to parenting.

I could absolutely be described as a doting grandma, though.  Oh, how the tables have turned.  I know Ben and Frankie have a hard time recognizing the woman/grandma I've become.

Side note - The visit will be short because my school doesn't end until mid-July and I need to be back here to help close it up.  July and August is when the temperatures start to rise past 120.  I'm planning several short trips to cooler climates during this time.

But first, it's . . .

New York City, here I come!

The Little Machine That Could

Years ago, I use to sew, making a lot of my own clothes.  But that was years ago. Now the only time I think about sewing is when I need to make some quick repairs.

Of course, with a "three luggage" limit traveling here, the thought of bringing a sewing machine didn't/wouldn't even occur to me.

Since I've arrived though, there have been a few things that needed repairing, so I went online - yes, to Amazon, my favorite store - and found the cutest battery (4AA) operated sewing machine that is so small it fits in the palm of my hand.  It costs $22.  It looks like a toy, but don't be mistaken, it's a powerful little booger.

"SMARTEK Mini-Sewing Machine
sitting next to a remote so you can get an idea of its compact size

For those of you who sew, you'll understand - It feeds the thread using bobbins on both the top and the bottom.  And, it came threaded and ready to use.

The reason I needed a sewing machine that is battery operated is because our electrical outlets run on 220 voltage instead of the 120V that we use in the US.

The quickest way to fry a motor is to plug a 120V into a 220V.  Yep, I speak from experience.

The uses for this little amazing sewing machine are countless.  And because of the compact size, you can take it anywhere.

Side Note - Interestingly, I haven't found anyone who knows what a crock pot is.  Of course, I could order one, but the voltage wouldn't be compatible and I would be adding it to the list of motors I've fried.

Side Note 2 - I think I missed my calling.  I should have been in sales because when I like something, I want the world to know about it and experience it.

Long Week

As I've gotten older, I've learned to appreciate time more.  Time to live. Time to enjoy life.  Time to experience new things.

But this was a tough week.  Time seemed to drag on, with each day longer than the previous one.

I'm dealing with sensitive personnel issues, and as the de facto problem solver for the school - how in the world did I get that role? -  it has made for some long days.

I went to bed as soon as I got home, with no intention of writing tonight, but Forrest called, as usual, but today it was sad news about a friend back home.  She had an aneurysm, collapsed and is on life support.  She is 54.  Her sister and I were the best of friends. We still are.

How quickly I went from feeling sorry for myself for being tired, to feeling like an idiot for making a mountain out of a mole hill.

My issues are microscopic compared to this family's.

On the days like today when I'm living in a fog, I hope that I remember how blessed and fortunate I am.

This news shocked some sense into me.

Don't make my mistake.  Take a minute now to recognize how good you have it.  No matter what's happening in your life, take the time to appreciate all of the goodness that surrounds you.  Even if you have to search . . . hard . . . I encourage you to do it.

I promise you - suddenly - your day will be better for it.

 

Mission Statement

Aramex is the awesome shipping company I use to get packages from the US here in record time.  I have the boxes shipped to their office because I'm not at home when they deliver.

There is a framed picture of their mission statement in their office that hangs prominently for all to see.  It reads, "The mission is to be one of the top five global logistics and express transportation service providers in the world."

This is fascinating to me.  

Why is their goal to be "one of the top five" and not number one?

Are they flying low instead of reaching for the stars?

Is this goal a more realistic one?  Is that why it was chosen?

And if one of the top five, why not the top ten or the top twenty?

My thinking is, if you're going to compete, shouldn't you always seek to be the best, to be number one?  

What do you think?

 

Last Minute

When the boys were growing up, Ben was always very punctual in every thing he did.  All of his assignments were turned in on time and often early.  He was always on time for events, sporting and otherwise.

Frankie, on the other hand, was perpetually late.  He would have his buddies fax over his assignments because he would loose his somewhere between school and home.  He always waited until the last minute to do his work.

Last night, when I started working on something that was due today, and I knew about it months ago, I knew then that Frankie is just like his momma.

I take back all those times I nagged him to do his work.

He would say he worked better under pressure.  Did he hear me use that excuse?

Oh, the things we pass on to our kids.  So much of which I wish I could take back.

Frankie hated homework.  Me too.

He would say - Momma, you know I know how to do it.  The teacher knows I know how to do it, so why do I have to do it?

He made a great point, but who cared?  He had work to do and all this lollygagging wasn't getting it done.

Round and round we would go.

Would I have dealt with him differently if I recognized he was just like me years ago?  Or, did I nag him because I "sensed" he was like me and I wanted him to be better?

Do we ever get to the point where we stop second-guessing our parenting skills?

UAE in NYC

I shared this with some of my New York City folks, but I think it deserves a wider audience.

The tourism department of Abu Dhabi set up a tent or majlis in Times Square in celebration of the opening of an office in New York City.


This is fascinating on many levels.


First and foremost, with the backdrop of 9/11, New York City would not be the first place I would think of to set up a tourism office for an Arab country.  On the other hand, I think it's a brilliant move.  It's a way to say, check us out.  Come and get an up close look at who we are and what we stand for.  


Secondly, they're reaching so many nations because of all of the international visitors to New York City.  They're tapping into many markets at once.


Finally, it's an opportunity for others to experience a little of the hospitality that the UAE is known for.  

Check out the article for yourself.  It was featured in The National newspaper a couple of days ago.

http://www.thenational.ae/news/uae-news/tourism/abu-dhabi-majlis-lights-up-new-yorks-times-square

Final, final note.

The temperature is averaging about 110.  It cools down to 100 at about 11pm.

I'm thinking they're probably not mentioning this in their presentation in NYC.

Leadership Styles

When I think of leaders, and the many different styles of leadership, I'm reminded of sports.  I think coaches provide great examples of the different ways of leading folks to success.

There is the Bill Parcell Style.  Loud.  Boisterous.  Confrontational.  In your face. Leading by intimidation.

There is the John Wooden Style.  Reserved.  Dignified.  Master of executing the basics to perfection.  Always the teacher.

Then there is the Tony Dungy Style.  Quiet.  Thoughtful.  Master of attention to detail.  And above all, respectful, of the game and his players.

I chose these three because, although the styles were varied, the end result was the same.  They were all winners.

So for the leader who rides, intimidates, embarrasses, humiliates and harasses, he/she continues to do that when they are winning with that strategy.  Their theory - Don't fix it if it isn't broke.

But for the leader who chooses to lead with dignity, humility, collaboration, and respect, he/she must win to prove to everyone that being kind doesn't mean being weak or ineffective.  I think, in many ways, this one is harder.

Here's why.

This coach/leader is in the minority.  That alone can be daunting.  The rule of thumb is coaches/leaders need to be tough to get the desired results.  This thoughtful approach dares proving because it goes against the grain.  Folks, by nature, tend to give this kind of coach/leader a shorter time to prove their worth.  Positive results need to happen fast.

I'm embarrassed to say that many times my style closely resembled the Coach Parcell Style. Thankfully, that was short-lived.  I hope it was anyway.  My staffs may think otherwise.

As I've grown in leadership positions, I've strived to emulate the style of the leader I had the great pleasure of working for.  Someone who was fair and reasonable. Someone who never asked her staff to do anything she wasn't also willing to do. Someone who helped to bring out the best in me.  Someone who was supportive, providing all of the resources we needed (that was in the good old days), but then expected us to do our best, and give our best.

Have I always succeeded in leading this way?  Absolutely not.

Do I always try?  Yes.  On most days anyway.

I think treating people with respect, is the most effective trait of an effective leader.

Unfortunately, our landscape is littered with bully leaders.  Here's hoping the tide turns in the other direction.  Soon.  But if the bully leader keeps winning, the wait will probably be a long one.

TV

I used to be hooked on television.  With the advent of TiVo, I had scores of shows saved to watch later.

When I was young, we had an elderly neighbor that I visited from time to time.  She always had her TV on, and it was always blasting.  It was "company" for her.  I swore then that I would never be an old lady with a blaring television.

Well . . . never say never.

I, in fact, became that woman.  Old, and watching way too much TV.

Thankfully, that is not the case here.

Of course, I'm still old, but I find that I don't turn on the TV for days at a time.  It helps that it's in the living room and not the bedroom, so it's not the automatic routine that it was.

So, how do I fill that time?

I'm reading much more.  Books.  Magazines.  Newspapers.

I like being informed.  Knowing what's happening in my world.

That world seems small when the headlines from the US are published prominently here in the UAE.

Again, I'm thankful for the online resources and outlets that feature the latest news and information from around the world.  It helps to keep me in the loop.

I also just downloaded a great app for my iPad . . . ESPN, The Magazine.  It features terrific articles and offers comprehensive coverage of sports.

Yes, I like sports.  I'm sure it's from growing up with all that testosterone.

I subscribed to Sports Illustrated years ago for Ben and Frankie, and kept it coming long after they were gone and only stopped getting it when they changed the font and I couldn't read it comfortably.  Clearly, it was geared for a younger, better eye-sighted, crowd.

The great thing about the iPad and iPhone and all the other i-gadgets, is the ability to increase the font size with your fingers by spreading them out on the page.  You gotta love the geeks.  Life is so much better because of them.

If you're still with me, you can see there wasn't much happening in my world.  Of course, if I waited for something exciting to write about, it might be a while.

Until next time, find something fun to read, and share it with me.  I'm always looking for something new.  Trashy romance novels count.  So do comics.

OK.  No comics.

Finally, this random reminder -

Forgive.  No matter what.  Choose to forgive.  Whatever the issue,  it's not worth holding on to it.  Just let it go.

Yes, you can do it.

Just let it go.

Take a deep breath.

Another.

One more.

Feel better?

I know.  I know.  I missed my calling.  I should have been a therapist.

Until next time.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms out there!  Here's hoping your day is filled with fun, relaxation and lots of love.

Your blogging buddy

Evolution

Texas is home for me.  It's where I was born and raised.  Although I lived in Sacramento for 22 years,  and Texas for only 18, China, Texas will always be home.

China was a very small town.  There were about 1100 folks, and I'm sure they counted pets and the deceased, to come up with that number.

It was/is an agricultural area, with rice being the biggest crop.  Most folks worked on farms, and the lucky ones at the oil refineries in Beaumont, about 20 miles away.

Like all town/cities/communities at that time, it was segregated.  The railroad tracks were the dividing line. All the white folks lived on one side of the tracks, all of the black folks on the other.  It was like that in 1956 when I was born, and to a large degree, it's still like that today.

I remember the "whites' only signs for the restrooms and water fountains at the gas station.  At the general store, the whites parked in the front, the blacks on the side.

The white side of town had paved roads, sidewalks and underground drainage of waste.  There were no sidewalks on our side.  The roads were layered in dried shells, which was hard to drive on and even harder to walk on.  The drainage pipes emptied waste into the ditches, which was a festering ground for the spread of disease by the many mosquitoes that lived there.

Of course, the schools were segregated.

Everyone in the school system was black.  The principal, teachers and all support staff.  It was like this for me from 1st thru 6th grade.  Our school served all students from 1st thru 12th grade.  When I was in 1st grade, my brother Forrest was in the 11th grade, on the other side of the building.

My black world extended beyond the school.  The doctors, dentists, pharmacist, and all the other professionals whose services we used, were black, too.

We integrated my school when I was in the 7th grade.  My K-12 school became the middle school.  Everyone in 1st thru 6th grade, now went to the white school across the tracks.  All of the white kids in 7th and 8th grade, came to our school, and in the 9th grade, we were all bussed seven miles away, to the town of Sour Lake, where we went to high school.

As I mentioned, all of my teachers were black before we integrated.  After integration, I had one black teacher from 7th thru 12th grade.  All of those black educators lost their jobs.

Although integration opened many doors, I'm not sure if we did an accurate job of counting the cost.  We didn't always have the latest textbooks or the best supplies, but we had role models and teachers who had a vested interest in our success.  The black staff knew the challenges we would face, and they worked overtime to ensure our success.  They absolutely refused to let us fail.

When we integrated, we shared the same space, but we didn't always get the same education.

As I look back on that time, I marvel at the fact that our coming together was peaceful.  There were no protests.  No sit-ins.  No demonstrations.  We black folks understood how dangerous it was to push back, so we didn't.  We were taught how to behave to avoid trouble.  We knew our place and stayed in it.

Some may see this as cowardly.  I see it as an exercise in smart thinking.  We understood our lives and livelihoods were at stake.  Literally.

The good thing about being raised in the South was, we knew where we stood.  Their was no ambiguity about how someone felt about you.  It was revealed for all to see and deal with.

This is my history.

This is what I passed on to Ben and Frankie.  This may help to explain why for years, I objected to their dating white girls.  My rationale was twofold.  I was absolutely concerned about their safety, and I wanted them to appreciate black women and the richness of our culture.

Both Ben and Frankie are married, and I love their wives and the choices they made.  Neither of the women are black.

My thinking evolved.

I loved what President Obama stated, when he said his thinking about gay marriage has evolved.  So too, has mine about interracial marriage.  I've grown.  I've matured. I understand that love comes is many packages and in many colors.

I always encouraged Ben and Frankie to marry smart women.  And they did.  Could they have found smart black women?  Of course.  But they didn't, and that's OK.

I've grown.  I've matured.  I've evolved.

Thank God!

Evolution is a good thing.

Tears & Rain

Yesterday was one big celebration at school.  We were honoring the conclusion of Dental Health Month in Abu Dhabi.

There were dignitaries present who were entertained with songs, dances, skits, and readings.  Some had nothing to do with teeth or dental health, but who cares?  It was a party and everyone was invited, whether they were relevant to the theme or not.

It lasted almost three hours.  We're serious about celebrations here.  We acknowledge something or someone with a celebration at least once a week.

The good news is the kids are good at it.  The grown folks could use some polishing, but the student performers are great.

The bad news is the amount of academics that is missed to make this happen.

On the other hand, the students here get to fully participate in the arts . . . music and creative arts.  Drawings, artistic creations, and projects can be seen all over the building.

It's a beautiful site.

One of the teachers, who was integrally involved in the planning and execution of this elaborate program yesterday, was in tears at the end of it.

I was definitely at a disadvantage in not speaking the language, in trying to find out what the problem was.  The explanation I could piece together seemed insignificant, but I've lived long enough to know that sometimes, the current circumstance causing the distress may be the representation of the "straw" that broke the camel's back.  It's not necessarily the current issue, but a culmination of things that causes folks to be upset.

We have no idea of what others are going through.  We have what they share, but most people are cautious about airing their dirty laundry.  That's especially true here where appearances reign supreme.

I'm guessing if we peeled back some of the layers, both figuratively and literally, we would find more than a little funky laundry.

After all of this, later in the day . . .

It rained.

A heavy drizzle really, and only at the mall.  Not even the whole mall, just on the massive concrete "front yard" of the mall.  It was funny watching people watch the rain. Shopping stopped in its tracks for this event. It's such a rare sight in these parts.

When I left the mall, Luther was a mess because before the rain, there was a mini-sandstorm.  The wind was blowing hard and hot.  It was 108 degrees at 4:00pm. The dampness in the air must have mixed with the sand because it was sticking to Luther.  I'd have to be sure to go to the carwash on Saturday.

Here's hoping that there are no tears in your world, and if there's rain, it's a welcome sight.

Gaudy, Gaudy, Gaudy!

On my way to get a haircut, I had some time to spare, so I stopped by - what we would call way back when - a five and dime store.

It was touted as a gift shop, but that's a real stretch.

What was so inviting, and yet in many ways, so repulsive, was the gaudiness of it all.

Even the cheesy stuff is done up in a big way here.

There were rows and rows of shiny gold things that I'm sure would turn green before you walked out of the store with it.

But for some reason, I was mesmerized by it all, and walked up and down each aisle . . . several times.

What does that say about me?

Please don't answer!

Yes, I did buy something.

It was only a little bit gaudy.

And yes, I will discuss this issue in my next therapy session.

Here's wishing you a good "gaudy" night.

Sandstorms, Music and Dating

I spent the day in Abu Dhabi for a meeting.  It wasn't as productive as I had hoped, but it was still nice getting out of town for the day.

On the way home, I drove through a sandstorm.  It really is pretty harrowing to see and experience.  The sand was so thick that visibility wasn't much farther than the front end of your car.

Side note - Each time I've experienced a sandstorm, I noticed that the wind blew across the road, horizontally.  The fierce windy sand moves from right to left or left to right, to swirls in big circles.

Side note 2 - I always thought storm chasers were nuts, but I can see the fascination now.  I was tempted to pull over just to have it swirl around me.

When there was a slight let up in the wind, I could see that the cars around me had on their emergency blinkers.  So, I turned on mine, too.  That really was the only way to see them.  Thankfully, the speed of the traffic slowed way down.  This is a road that folks fly on, so I was happy that cooler heads prevailed and they/we all slowed down.

As I was driving home, in all of this colorful weather, I was listening to music.  It had been a while since I'd done that.  Usually I'm listening to motivational speakers.

Anyway, I was listening to someone cover a Whitney Houston song, and I thought - why am I listening to him, when I could be listening to the real thing.  So, I was serenaded by Whitney, then Michael (Jackson), and finally Luther (Vandross).

Yes.  They have all passed away, but it felt so good to walk down memory lane with them.  Each song took me to a different place and time in my life.

I thought about all of the great music and musicians I grew up with, and how prolific that time - the 70's - were in giving us timeless artists and songs that have lasted the test of time.  

There was Aretha (Franklin), Gladys (Knight), Stevie (Wonder), Frank (Sinatra), Barbra (Streisand), The Temptations, The Four Tops, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, featuring Teddy (Pendergrass), and so many more.  Although I was not a fan, many people liked Marvin (Gaye).

Side note 3 - I've come close to having to turn in my "black" ID card when that tidbit was revealed.

Funny how many young folks nowadays, are using just the one name, like Beyonce (Knowles) and Joe (???).

Seriously!  They haven't earned the right.  Will we be listening to them 20-30 years from now?  I doubt it.

They can't hold a candle to Aretha, Gladys, Barbra, Frank or Luther.

OK.  I get all riled up about this, so I'll stop.

Finally, a comment about my dateless decade.

I was married for 20 years, and spent almost every day for much of that time trying to please my husband and keep a happy home.  Well, at about year 15, I realized that no matter what I did, it wouldn't ever be good enough, so after a while, I stop trying.

Now, it takes two to screw things up in a relationship, and God knows I was guilty on many levels.  So, after hanging in as long as possible, it ended in year 20.

That was my year of jubilee!  I started to experience a freedom I'd never had before, and I loved it.

I also discovered I liked me, warts and all.

And I made a promise to myself to never spend another day trying to bring someone else happiness.  That has to come from within.

So, I've guarded my heart and myself.  

My motto now is "to thine own self be true."

If that leads to a relationship, wonderful.

If not, I'm OK with that, too.


  

Kuwait

About a year and a half ago, I applied for a job in Kuwait, and was so disappointed when it didn't come through.  Little did I know at the time, there was something much better coming down the pike.  All I could see was the disappointment of not getting this job.

If the Kuwait job had materialized, I would have had to resign from my position in Sacramento, as opposed to being able to retire, which I did.  I wasn't old enough to retire the year before, so I can see now that some things had to fall in place before this move could happen.

Sometimes when you're hoping or wishing for something that doesn't happen, maybe, just maybe, it's because something much better is right around the corner.

I think about all the time I waited to hear from Abu Dhabi, wondering if, or when, I would hear from them again.  In hindsight, I see now that I arrived at the perfect time.  Landing when I did allowed me a month to sightsee and get acclimated to the new culture, and it allowed for a period of adjustment free from the stress of work.

And . . .

The temperature was 111 at 2:45 as I was leaving work today.  When I arrived in this country in late November, it was a high of about 75 degrees for the first three months.  That was heavenly.  This is HOT!  It would have been so much harder adjusting with this blazing heat.  It's 7:30pm and it has cooled down to 102!

I could go on and on about how things have worked out for the best, but I'm sure you get my drift.

I hope that by reading this you'll be encouraged to keep working toward your dreams, no matter the setbacks.  I heard someone say recently that your setbacks should be thought of as setups . . . setting you up for something greater.

If it happened for me, it can happen for you, too.

Sending good thoughts your way . . . always.

Your blogging buddy

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man

This is the name of Steve Harvey's book and the newly released movie based on it. I read the book and can't wait to see the movie.

Side note - The movie, The Avengers opened here last week, the same day as in the US.  I have absolutely no desire to see it, and can pretty much guarantee that I won't be trekking to the theater for this one.  I wished the powers that be had asked me which movie to release first.  The Avengers would have been way down the list.

Now, back to the book/movie.

I've got the second half of that title down pat - there's no doubt - I think like a guy. I'm sure this is due in large part to being raised in a household with three brothers, and no sisters.

The first part, acting like a lady, is what I'm always working on.

For years, I was Mom and Dad to my boys.  As such, I felt that I had to be tough to keep them in line.  Although many folks raise wonderful kids without going that route, this was the journey I chose, for better or worse.

I found it hard turning off the toughness, so I tended to be rough around the edges all the time.

Nothing ladylike about that.

One of these days I'm going to query Ben and Frankie about their take on the whole "growing up" experience.  I'm guessing it's still pretty fresh in their minds.  To be safe, I think I'll wait a few more years to get their thoughts on the matter. I'll probably wait until after they've experienced fatherhood for a while.  I'm guessing that will help soften their thinking, although I still think therapy would be helpful for all of us.

Anyway . . .

I feel so fortunate to have had my brothers' guidance in the matters of the heart. Forrest was especially helpful because he could always cut to the chase and read someone faster than they could say their name.  Nine times out of ten, he was right on the money, too.  As a result of his guidance in dealing with guys, I was able to navigate those waters pretty well.  Some might say too well, as it's been more than a decade since my last date.

Pick up your jaw up off the table.  It's all good.

Maybe I'll go into more details later, but at the very least, it's a few lines in a posting for another day.

I didn't/don't like typical girlie things, like shopping and hanging out with other girls.  I was always much more comfortable with guys.  I'd take an afternoon of roughhousing with guys any day over the cattiness that is too often present with a group of women get together.

So, I continue to work on softening my edges and acting like a lady, so that the number of folks I scare, gets smaller and smaller every day.

Of course, I'm always ready to blast anyone who rubs me the wrong way, but as I get older, I'm blasting less and less.

It's nice to know old age is good for something.