Do you know where you were the day Kennedy was shot?

November 22, 1963, 12:30 pm CST, I was sitting in my homeroom at Bolton HS, Alexandria, LA when JFK was assassinated. As soon as the full story was known an announcement was made and the principal sent all students and staff home for the day. Almost everyone in my age group remembers exactly where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot. I had just turned 17 the month before and, to me, this seemed really surreal. Our president had been killed by a sniper while he was visiting Dallas, TX. He was riding in an open convertible. FDR rode in an open convertible and he wasn’t shot. Lots of important people rode in open convertibles and they weren’t shot. I sensed that the world had gone crazy and might end any minute and I felt numb as I rode home on the school bus. I don’t remember much about that ride. I thought that if my country was not a safe place for the most guarded man in America, who had secret service around him 24/7/365, how could it be safe for me? Things like this happened in other countries but not in America. Television was filled with everything about the assassination for weeks. Every picture, report, and film was in black and white which made the blood spattered suit Jackie Kennedy wore at LBJ’s swearing in all the more graphic. I watched the funeral cortege, little John John saluting his slain father, the Zapruder film, reporters trying to piece together a timeline. We may never know what really happened, whether it was a conspiracy or a lone gunman, but November 22, 1963 was the day my generation lost its innocence. The horrific events were shattering to our collective psyche. And yes I know where I was the day Kennedy was shot.

It’s your turn now…

I just finished reading a rant from a member of the generation who are now in their late 30s and mid 40s. They are the Gen Xers. They are the children of the Boomer generation. I am a Boomer. I sympathize with the “squeezed” generation but they don’t have a corner on disappointment. My parents were conscripted into WWII and the Korean War. Boomers were conscripted into Viet Nam. Conscription in the US lasted from 1940 to 1973 when Congress abolished it in favor of an all volunteer military. So the majority of Gen Xers have not had to register with Uncle Sam for Military Duty and sweat out the possibility of being sent overseas to some rathole of a country to fight and die or to come back horribly maimed and emotionally traumatized with “shell shock” or PTSD. Everyone now can CHOOSE to go to some rathole overseas and get blown up by an IED and come back with PTSD (which has finally been recognized as a legitimate disability). Beyond the specter of watching the Viet Nam war rage on the TVs nightly newscasts from the early 60s through the mid 70s, my generation spent a majority of those years in civil disobedience to “end the war”. (I recommend renting “Fog of War” on DVD to understand why we had to fight to end the “never-ending” Viet Nam war.) We demonstrated for “civil rights”, gender equality in the workplace (Obama finally signed “Lilly Ledbetter” in 2008), and we did smoke a lot of pot. We paid cash for our healthcare and if we could afford health insurance, we filed the claims ourselves and waited months for reimbursement. Few employers provided health insurance coverage. The countertop microwave oven was first introduced in 1967 by Amana, but it was still too expensive for most households till the 1970s. Cell phone testing was permitted by the FCC in Chicago in 1977.  The first Apple computer was available commercially in 1977. Email was invented in 1971, global networking in 1973. Desktop computers were viable in 1983. So Boomers grew up writing love letters on paper and mailing them at the USPS. If we wanted a more immediate communication we called the object of our affection long distance from a land-line tethered to the wall in the kitchen where there was no privacy. Photos were taken with a regular camera and film and it took a week to process the film. (No X-rated photos were allowed.) Color pics were a luxury. Some other luxuries were automatic transmissions, dish washers, motorized lawn mowers, and air conditioning, We worked part time jobs and saved for a “rainy day” because by the time we were 18 years old, we were expected to find a job and “pay our own way”. My first job at a for-profit company was working at JC Penneys in the record-keeping department for $2.50/hour. I worked my way through college at an insurance company, selling funeral plans for a mortuary, and modeling for art classes at University of Texas. I graduated in 1971 with a BA in art. My first job was at another insurance company, keeping records. Complaining was not an option. I kept looking for a job in my field. I started my own company in St. Louis in 1975 designing business cards for clients and worked my way into more “artistic” designs. All of my “equipment” was paid for and I had 6 months of living expenses put away in case the business failed. Not exactly the glamorous life of an artist that I had envisioned when I graduated from UT, but I persevered. So to those Gen Xers and the current generation, the Millenials, who are disillusioned with the state of their world, this is your time to protest, demonstrate, create a new paradigm, change the dialogue. Don’t complain, and move your collective ass(es). I’m old and tired and I have participated in changing the social contract for my generation. It’s your turn now.

My Best Friend…is funny again!

It’s been close to a year since my best friend had surgery on her neck. She is walking much better but I have to support her with a “homemade” sling when she poops and pees. Her balance is pretty good for her age and condition but she still needs some help. She has lost a lot of weight, from about ten pounds to about seven pounds. Her spondylosis has not gotten much worse, and we have had many other health battles to deal with since her surgery. She had a severe vomiting reaction to the antibiotics and pain killers from her surgery, a urinary tract infection (e-coli) that took over six weeks to cure, kidney stones that we hope will stay in her kidneys, a blood test that showed her BUNs were really high indicating kidney weakness so we have to get her hydrated every ten days, surgery on her corneal dystrophy and now an indolent ulcer on her left eye. There are probably a few other medical problems that I have forgotten about in the last ten months. Thank goodness I have “pet medical insurance”. Pica will be seventeen years old in September. I will be sixty-five in October. She is way older than I am. She is even older than my husband who will be eighty-one next week. I think she is doing remarkably well. She gets me up each night between midnight and 4AM. I try to go back to sleep but can’t. It’s maddening that she sleeps most of the day except when she has to poop or pee or when I have to give her medicine and I have to go through the day bleary eyed unless I can take a nap and try to make up for sleep lost. Before her medical saga began she slept through the night, had a healthy appetite, loved to chew on her toys, and would play “dodge the human”. Of course the injury to her vertebrae changed everything. We were watching a film we made of her playing "tug the rope" with us when we lived in California. She was growling and barking and jumping around. It was a far cry from the frail “little old lady” she is now. But tonight, after such a long time of being sick, she seems to have gotten back some of her former “funny” ways. She came into the living room where we were watching TV, sat down and just looked at us while tilting her head from side to side. When she couldn’t get our attention she slowly walked halfway down the hall, turned around and barked. When we still didn’t respond she continued a few feet further, turned around and barked again. Before she was sick, this was her signal to us that it was time to go to bed. She would choose the time, usually around 10PM, and we would obey. So tonight it was like old times, following the orders of our seven pound Chihuahua (even though it was 9PM and our favorite series “Suits” was on the TV, and it was a little too early for us to go to sleep). These many months that she has been recovering have been difficult. But tonight’s return to Pica, “The Chihuahua Formerly Known as Boogie Boogie Choo Choo”, was such a special reward. I will get up with her at any hour she needs me to get up and take her out to poop and pee. I will hold an umbrella over her when it rains. I will shine a flashlight for her to see where she is going. I will gladly give up a few hours of sleep to have her with me a little longer. I can’t wait till she walks down the hall tomorrow night and barks her orders again that it is time for us to come to bed!

Summer Songs to “Beat” the heat

It’s going to be a long hot summer! 

You can hum some cool tunes by going to...

http://www.billboard.com/column-the-juice/features/top-30-summer-songs-1004101310.story#/column-the-juice/features/top-30-summer-songs-1004101310.story

...for the top 30 summer songs of all time from Billboard.com. This collection is multi-generational, beginning in 1958 with “Summertime Blues” by Eddie Cochran thru “California Gurls” by Katy Perry feat. Snoop Dogg in 2010. One of my favs is “In the Summertime” by Mungo Jerry, 1970. There have to be way more greatest summer songs than just these 30, but it’s a start. Feel free to leave a comment about your favorite summer song.

Unemployment Benefit…

 I have been unemployed (this time) since November 11, 2010 and I was sure I’d go stark raving mad. Having to start looking for a job all over again at my age is depressing and tiring. I have been through this cycle 3 or 4 times since I graduated from college in 1971 and each time I contemplated making an appointment with a psychiatrist because I’m not used to being idle for long periods of time. That’s probably my German ancestry kicking in. I like being busy and working at something productive. My career as a graphic designer has always given me a creative outlet. Each project I have been given is unique and even when a project is less creative than I would like, my mind is constantly working on something for future design projects. Interacting with clients and co-workers keeps me on my toes intellectually and artistically. (Of course I still like dogs better than I like people, my closest friends and family excepted.) But this time around seems different. First, I am closer to retirement. Second, my house needs cleaning out of all the collections and memorabilia I have hoarded over the years. My sister in Dallas belongs to a church that supports charities overseas and a band of Indians on a local Native American reservation. So I am cleaning out my “stuff” in anticipation of traveling lighter in the future. I’m sending her and my other sister in Minnesota those things I no longer need or want. They can use them or sell them.

When I began this purge I held each item that I was giving up, thought about how I felt when I acquired it, reasoned that I never used it anymore, resolved to put it into a box and send it to a new home. The first few items were difficult to part with because I grew up in a military family and each time we were transferred to a new post, I had to throw away most of my most treasured items. I spent the first 20 years of my life having to leave my things, every 1-3 years, in a garbage can so it is very difficult to divest myself of anything (even if I never use it). Now, 45 years later, I am ready to jettison my things so I can travel lighter. I want to be ready to go when the opportunity is there. Being attached to “things” can get expensive when I have to pack and store them each time I move. I like moving around and experiencing the cultures in different parts of the world and I don’t want to be tied down by “things”.

Having cleaned out most of the bedrooms, office, and the living room, I am now going through the kitchen and dining room. Lots of “stuff” in these two rooms that I really need to sell or donate. Most of it was given to me by my mother-in-law. That makes parting with it really emotional. These are her treasures, entrusted to me. She used these elegant dishes when she entertained formally back in the 1920s. Lifestyles change with each generation and we were two generations apart. I use disposable plates and cups when I entertain.

So my time now is split between cleaning out my house and applying for jobs on line and I am staying busy. Because the economy is still recovering (probably will be for some time to come) and because my maturity doesn’t exactly WOW a prospective employer, I will probably have ample time to finish cleaning out my house. This also might last long enough to take me up to the age when I can draw my full Social Security benefits, if they are still there after Congress finishes with the budget. I’m thinking this Unemployment Benefit was cosmically timed for me!!

MY 10 LESSONS FROM LITERATURE

The Puppet Masters – Robert Heinlein (1951)

War of the Worlds – H.G. Wells (1898)

1984 – George Orwell (1949)

Brave New World - Aldous Huxley (1931)

These are a few (and some of the most important) books I have read that portray a world in the grip of mind, culture, and societal control over which we have little or no way out. A few have been made into movies. Some are stories of physical controls by alien beings, some are stories of controls contrived because of an environmental disaster and some are stories of collectivist controls by the government or “Big Brother”. These ideas of controlling populations are sold as Utopian Societies guaranteed to bring peace, security, and order. The stories are based on our belief that a Utopian Society CAN be achieved. They are oligarchic, dystopian, and brainwashing allegories that echo our fear of loss of personal freedom by losing our freedom to think independently whether that loss is from invaders from outside our solar system or because of a necessity to bow to dictatorial rule in order to survive. They are metaphorical lessons we seem to have forgotten from the last century. They are symbolic illustrations of what can happen if we willingly give in to the comfortable, the easy, and the collective insanity of a few.

Fahrenheit 451 – Ray Bradbury (1951)

Logan’s Run – William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson (1967)

Animal Farm – George Orwell (1945)

This Perfect Day – Ira Levin (1970)

These books are probably more familiar because a couple of them have also been made into more recent movies. They carry the same warnings of loss of control of our way of life, our societies, and our minds. Burning books to control ideas that might upset the political balance in a society, executing everyone on their 21st birthday to keep population growth stable, the corruption, ignorance, indifference and greed of leaders that want a smooth transition to a “peoples” government controlled by oligarchs, domination through forced uniformity by a “Family” machine.

“Anything one man can imagine, other men can make real.”

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1870)

A Journey to the Center of the Earth (1864)

Around the World In Eighty Days (1873)

From the Earth to the Moon (1865)

– Jules Gabriel Vern, “Father of Science Fiction” (1828-1905)

My 10 lessons from literature are:
1. don’t ignore events from the past as they may repeat themselves, with a new twist
2. even science fiction can become reality
3. don’t settle for the status quo
4. conspiracy theories may have some truth in them
5. looking for perfection may be more exciting than finding it
6. there is always a price to pay for anything you want
7. be prepared to defend against faulty logic and extremism every day
8. never follow a crowd until you see where they are going
9. don’t make hasty decisions without gathering the facts,
and most importantly
10. always think for yourself.

Primum non nocere

It’s been 3 years and 4 months since my mastectomy, but who’s counting? In September this year I will be within one year of the magical five-year window when doctors declare a cancer patient is less likely to have a recurrence. For me, the window will never be closed. My mastectomy scar is a constant reminder that I could develop cancer in the other breast. I am much more proactive about my lumps and bumps now. I ask, probe, and demand that my body be given the attention it deserves. When I first felt THE lump back in 1999, I consulted my gynecologist in Atlanta. I was also having severe hot flashes and she prescribed HRT (hormone replacement therapy) in pill form for the hot flashes and other menopausal symptoms. I had a mammogram and was assured that the lump was fibrocystic disease and not to worry. The lump became painful after I started the HRT but my hot flashes and my risk of heart disease were under control, which, I was told, was the conventional medical wisdom then. After moving to Los Angeles in 2000, I had a follow-up mammogram and ultra-sound. My doctor again assured me it was only a fibrocystic lump. My mother and my sisters have fibrocystic lumps so I was not worried and there was no history of breast cancer in my family. I was more worried about our family history of heart disease. The HRT was now being delivered into my system in the new, more convenient, patch. So I had my annual mammograms and every year I went for a follow-up ultra-sound and every year the lump got bigger and every year I was told it was just fibrocystic disease. I moved to the Antelope Valley in 2003 and made my annual appointment with an OB-GYN. I continued having annual mammograms and follow-up ultra-sounds. My 2004 and 2005 mammograms and follow-up ultra-sounds showed a fibrocystic lump once again. Then I moved to Mississippi and missed my annual mammogram and follow-up ultra-sound in 2006. I made an appointment in September of 2007 for an annual check-up and mammogram with my new OB-GYN. After my exam she sent me immediately for a biopsy. It was cancer. Stage-3. How did I go from a fibrocystic lump in 2005 after 6 years of mammograms and ultra-sounds to stage-3 cancer in 2007? What happened to the fibrocystic lump? How could it turn into stage-3 cancer in less than 2 years? Had they misdiagnosed me in California? Warnings about HRT patches causing an increased risk for breast cancer were ignored by my doctors in California because of the protection the medication claimed to offer against the greater risk of heart disease and because of the relief it gave me from menopausal symptoms. There is no empirical proof that the HRT patch was a main contributor to my breast cancer, but I am convinced that it was the patch that elevated my risk unnecessarily. My sisters have never used the patch and they don’t have breast cancer. I don’t have any psychological issues about losing my breast. I feel a little lopsided occasionally and I’m not really comfortable with my prosthesis. My main issue is loss of my peace of mind. I will forever be wary of claims touted by pharmaceutical companies or by my doctors about the benefits of some new medicine or delivery system. HRT and HRT patches are no longer regularly given to menopausal women for their symptoms and have since been proven not to offer protection against heart disease. In fact HRT may contribute to a woman’s risk for heart disease. Big Pharma is worried more about its bottom line than about my quality of life. That’s just big business. My bottom line IS my quality of life. I no longer trust the medical community implicitly. I question every prescription and treatment. Our healthcare system is so overly dependent on maximizing profits that they have forgotten the warning “Primum non nocere” which is Latin for First, do no harm, a fundamental principle for the practice of medicine.

What’s really important?

I’m still not totally sure “what’s really important” to take into a safe-room or shelter when faced with an emergency like the one I experienced last night. I will have to think about what is essential first. I live in Mississippi and at about 5pm New Year's Eve a line of severe storms with 100 mph straight line winds, probability of tornadoes, and flooding was headed in my direction. This escalated to a tornado warning by 6pm. I reasoned that I had about a half hour to prepare. The warning system of sirens and voice we have here was giving instructions to seek shelter. My Chihuahua was the most important thing on my mind…and her food. My husband was working at the local WalMart where he and the other employees and shoppers had gathered in the middle of the store. He kept calling me to give and get updates so my cell phone and spare batteries were the next most important items I thought of. Flashlights, battery powered radio, paper towels? I had already stored 6 gallons of water under the sink in our designated “safe room” which is our guest bathroom located “dead center” in our house. No windows and plenty of pipes, studs, iron tub, and custom cabinets for protection. I rounded up my medicine and then threw my husband’s medicine into a “clean” garbage bag along with additional gauze, bandages, peroxide, and alcohol. Then I gathered up all our laptops, storage devices, and 2010 tax info (I keep the tax stuff in a binder). Can’t forget that the IRS needs to be fed in about 3 months. My purse and our social security cards, a blanket, two really thick pillows, some crackers and a banana were the last things I thought of just before I turned the sound up on the local weather on our bedroom TV so I could hear what was going on up until either the electricity went out or until the emergency sirens signaled the crisis was over. Then my Chihuahua and I settled down to wait for the storm or for the storm to be over. So what did this practice run do for me? A lot! I know now that I need to store a 3-day supply of “real food” in pop-top cans so we can eat till the rescuers can to get to us. I need to assess the important items I will need during the emergency (and after) and have them centrally located so I can grab them all at one time. I might not have the luxury of 20 minutes to think about what I might need to survive. I need to have at least $200 so that afterwards I can buy the things I need at the super inflated prices vendors will be able to charge. Money talks and bullsh*t walks. I need to keep all my important papers that prove who I am and what I own and how it is insured in the “safe room”. Today I am going to make a list of all the things I need to buy, and all the papers I need to have and put them together where I can grab them in less than 5 minutes in case of another emergency. I will have to re-assess “what’s really important”!!!