Beddy White's Party

Children amaze and amuse us in so many ways.  They can do things we can only envy from afar.  One such talent is their magnificent ability to fall asleep, instantly, anywhere, midst any occasion.  I have seen them drift away in a car seat, on a couch, on a table, in a high chair, on a shoulder, on a lap, on the floor (sounds like a take off on “Green Eggs and Ham”), and, of all places, a Pack ‘N Play, a crib, or even a bed - go figure that. 

And their sleep is so … deep.  The final 15 minutes of the 1812 Overture could be playing 10ft. from their little ears and they would not stir a limb, or scrunch a face.  Little do they know that they will soon outgrow this blessed gift and not possess the ability again until they are well into life.  But that’s another story.

So, what has this to do with a blog post.  Well, I got to thinking, as I am wont to do at times, about all the funny little daily “habits” we humans engage in.  It is my belief that if we could shadow someone for a full 24 hour day, we would see them doing things that would curl our toes.  The behavior patterns witnessed we would call everything from crazy to bizarre to odd to weird to just plain silly. And yet for the person being observed, what they do is all perfectly normal and chock full of common sense.  Because, of course, everything  “we” do fits us to a “T.”  Thank you very much.

Take sleep, for instance. Once our little childhood is behind us and we are “big people,” we acquire certain fiercely followed routines that accompany our night’s slumber.  How on earth did we get them?  Where did they come from? Why do we do what we do?  And do you ever wonder if other people do this too, or are you the only one?

In keeping with the precedent set down in my post titled “Two a Day” (June 2012), I now offer you some of my little bedtime habits.  I always sleep with the window open.  Even at 20 below, fresh air must find its way in thru a millimeter wide slot.  Warmer weather, then wider open the window goes.  Summertime?  Why, wide open the whole time, of course. A bedroom lacking fresh air is a stuffy bedroom.  A stuffy bedroom smells.  Just ask any kid.  And that’s that.

Window blinds, shades, curtains, etc. need not apply for work in my bedroom. I know people who completely seal up their bedroom at night….door shut, every window completely covered, leaving them to while away the night in absolute blackness.   OMG, how could anyone do that, I wonder in shocked disbelief?  Being a touch claustrophobic, I would feel like Injun Joe trapped in Tom’s cave.  And you know what happened to him.

Even though my sleep is restful and deep, I must sense that the wind, the stars, the rain, and the snow, are right outside.  I must know the lingering moon ever so slowly traverses my window.  I have to be connected to the world, even in my slumber.  And besides, every morning, my window bequeaths to me, free, nature’s alarm clock. What a start to the day!

  

Bedrooms must be of a nice, soothing color.  I think it’s been proven more times than the Pythagorean theorem that certain colors are “restful” and conducive to imparting the slumber mood to the weary would be snorer.  Yet, some people, I’m sure, think that a bright red wall would be just the accent needed for a well attired sleep chamber (think Coneheads).  Sure, for a matador, maybe. 

I have never seen the need for a television either.  Anything, and I mean anything, I have ever read or heard about good sleep habits screams – no television in the bedroom.  And yet I feel strangely open to the idea that I would like one.  But not yet.  For now, I read before lights out.  That sets me up for dreamland just fine.

As to the other stuff….what people wear to bed, what they put on their nightstand (I know someone who religiously places a full glass of water on their night stand every night, yet never takes a sip), how the room is decorated (think pictures, wall accents, lamps, furniture, etc.), well, we won’t go there, at least not in this post!

So, there you have it.  In addition to my shower rituals, you now have a glimpse into my bedroom. And thru this little blog, I can now share that with the world. Too much information for your senses?  Well, too bad.  I find what people do in their little world a fascinating topic, and ponder that part of our humanness often.  And this is an “Eclectic” Fence Post, is it not ... to write about anything that strikes my fancy.  Well, this struck. And, I assure you, it will strike again!

Just enjoy it, and you may want to think to yourself ….. do you have weird sleep habits?  What would other people think of your little rituals?  I’d bet you’d be surprised.  You’re not as normal as you think!

And on that note, have a great 2013….Happy New Year, whatever your little oddities are.

Mark Twain Quote: “Well enough for old folks to rise early, because they have done so many mean things all their lives they can’t sleep anyhow.”

So This Is Christmas

I didn’t do this last year, and I don’t know why.  Perhaps it was the newness of the blog, and my desire get meaningful posts out.  Or I could have just plain forgot it.  Funny I would do that, as Christmas is my favorite “time” of the year.

So, whatever your deal is at Christmas, I hope it is for you a season of peace, love, remembrance, and hope.  Just try and keep it going, will ya?

I love Christmas carols, so to pick just one would be tough.  My dad loved “Little Drummer Boy.”  My personal favorite, if I had to choose, would be the Syracuse Symphony playing of Calvin Custer’s “Holiday Medley,” which has a rousing finish featuring a unique interpretation of Little Drummer Boy. You’ll never hear another like it.  This is followed closely by another Custer original, the “Twelve Days of Christmas Medley.”  They’re favorites cause they squeeze lots of carols into one, easy listening place.

But for all of you, all over the globe, I’d just suggest you listen carefully to John Lennon’s “Happy Christmas.” Couldn’t think of a more perfect song for all the world to hear.   So, to readers from the UK, to Brazil, to the Far East, to the Europeans, to those folks who read this “way down under”  -  Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  () () ()

Mark Twain Quote:  “The approach of Christmas brings harassment and dreads to many excellent people.  They have to buy a cart-load of presents, and they never know what to buy to hit the various tastes; they put in three weeks of hard and anxious work, and when Christmas morning comes they are so dissatisfied with the result, and so disappointed that they want to sit down and cry.  Then they give thanks that Christmas comes but once a year.”

Evil, Plain And Not So Simple

Once again, this time in Connecticut, evil thrust its way into our lives.  It came with lightning speed, and left just as quickly. In less than 15 minutes, it did its terrible work.  What it left behind will forever haunt our sensibilities. 

And it was so frustrating, on that awful day, that the talking heads that bobble, erroneously reported most of what happened just to “get the news to us first.”

This event was just so horrific that we could not process the facts or the emotions. We were all rocked by the news, but comprehension of the full scope of what happened was not to be ours.  I believe there was a reason, best explained by Mark Twain.

Twain had four children.  In his lifetime, he buried three of them, plus his wife.  No stranger to grief, Twain knew life’s ultimate cruelty. But once, even he was at a loss.  His oldest daughter Susie died at the tender age of 24, from meningitis, at their home in Hartford, CT, while Twain was on tour in England.  Susie was his favorite daughter, and he treasured her above all else.  Upon hearing the news of her tragic and untimely death, far across the ocean, he felt a grief he could not fathom, and wrote this:

“It is one of the mysteries of our nature that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunder-stroke like that and live. There is but one reasonable explanation of it.  The intellect is stunned by the shock and but gropingly gathers the meaning of the words.  The power to realize their full import is mercifully lacking.”

I have granddaughters named Emily and Mary.  Two of the kids murdered in Newtown were named Emilie and Mary.  Every time I even heard those names, I was immediately transported to hell, such was the horror evoked by even this innocent calling of their names.

We cobbled together this world we now live in.  Whatever it has become is our  handiwork.  It will also be our legacy one day. When we search for the source of this evil, we need only look around us.  We blame all our ills on those things we ourselves made.  What transforms human beings into the living evil that violated Newtown?  Chemical imbalance, medications, organic disease, lousy parents, drugs, video games, poverty, abuse, movies, television, accessibility to firearms, and the list goes on.  They all, in their own proportion, are ingredients in the recipe. 

Now, commissions will be formed, committees will sit, and words, and promises, like water, will flow copiously. Will anything meaningful come from all this pontificating? Is this latest affront to humanity enough to make the difference?  Will anything good come of yet another tragedy?  Can we make the decisions that need to be made?

I heard a most interesting proposition on the radio today.  We now have the ability to identify and profile the most dangerous mentally ill among us, the very ones who are most capable of committing such acts. We should be allowed, the reasoning went, to separate them from society, now – and forever.  A very proactive approach this, but if history be our judge, then it would be wise not to hold your breath. Ours is probably the least proactive country on the planet, which by default, makes us the most reactive.

So much to think about, so much to do. So little time.

When I grow very weary from all this, and it is finally time for me to rest my head upon the pillow, I am left with two thoughts that trouble me greatly.  One is a question – three simple words.  The other, a disturbing observation.

Where was God?

The only sure thing we know is that someone….out there….is planning….is getting ready.  Right now.

Mark Twain Quote:  “It is one of the mysteries  ……  full import is mercifully lacking.”

OOPS!

The feedback I received went like this:

“When you went to Denver, did you take your camera?” was the question.

 “Yes,” the answer. 

“Did you take lots of pictures?”

“Of course, it was Colorado for crisssake.”

“Were any of your friends Angela and John?”

 “Uh, sure, of course, why?” 

“Well, don’t you think it would have been nice if you included one with their post?”

Gulp!  My bad.  Of course it was an essential missing piece.  Of course it should have been displayed along with the post.  Of course I’m a stupid.

With apologies all around, I now include one in this “PS” post.  At the time this was taken,  we were hanging out at, now get this – Sports Authority Field - at Mile High Stadium, home of the Denver Broncos.  They even have naming rights for the damn grass.  Tell me we’re not over saturated with an obsession for money.  At every SU home game now, I feel as though I’m at some entertainment venue and they throw in a football game to fill the space between advertisements of every stripe.  But I digress, as this is a topic for another time.  Let us enjoy this moment.

Aren’t they a cute couple? 

Mark Twain Quote:  "Humor is mankind's greatest blessing." 

The Kargobais

My recent trip to Denver was to visit an old friend.  John and his wife Angela are from Sierra Leone.  They came to the United States for college.  They stayed to marry and share a life.  Some of their relatives preceded them, and some came after.  Together, they formed family and friendships in New York city, first in Brooklyn,  and then in Queens.   Some relatives moved on to Colorado, and eventually, many of those still left in New York followed, in dribs and drabs, to this new place of opportunity. Their only child, Anna, was one of them.  Soon, she lured  John and Angela there, for she wanted her parents close. Anna is married and now lives within walking distance of her parents.

John and Angela  made that move 6 or so years ago, and in Denver, what I will call the “Kargobai Clan West” was formed.  They live in a very nice housing development between downtown Denver and the airport, but much closer to the airport than the city.  A short walk through neighborhood streets brings you to the corner of Tower Road and East 43^rd Ave.  It is from this vantage point that you can see, unimpeded, the majestic rocky mountains to the west.

They live in a large house that boasts 6 bedrooms.  All are currently filled. Nieces, nephews, and other relatives move in and out as family circumstances dictate.  If there is a situation in one area of this extended family, John and Angela are there to fill the void. Angela’s sister and her husband moved from Tennessee, and while they get on their feet in this new setting, they will be cared for by John and Angela in their home.

Angela’s sister Imelda had been looking for a job for well over a year (talk about perseverance!).  During my visit, she was successful in finding one.  I saw the sense of pride and accomplishment light up her face upon hearing the news.  There was a bounce in her step and she wore a big smile  as she prepared herself for her first day of work.  John and Angela’s love and support helped make that day possible.

Angela’s mother is in her 80s, and also lives with them.  Just over a year ago, she suffered a major stroke, and requires constant care.  While eating out one night, I asked Angela,  “I think I already know the answer to this question, but did you ever think about placing mom in a nursing home?” The look on her face, which was my answer, said absolutely not. There would be no nursing home for the woman who raised and nurtured them. There was no question, no discussion, no hesitation.  Today, mom is doing very well and her family truly believes that home care is the reason.  They do not accept for one instant that institutional care would have produced the same result. For this family, mom will be taken care of by family, thank you. Any alternative would not even occur to them.   

Personal rant:  Sadly, this is probably an exception in the fast paced and impersonal “life” we have invented. The time is not far off when the capability to place a parent or loved one in an institution will be done using an “app” on a smart phone. 

Quite a group, these Kargobais.  They gather often, and with large batches of people.  Friends and relatives simply drop over, and stay anywhere from 10 minutes to - hours.  There is no formal “visit” time (think “play dates,” one of the evils of our children’s generation - but sadly, necessary), they just get together whenever they feel like it, which is often.

And I do think that something needs to be repeated.  These good people are first generation immigrants to our country.  They have been here long enough that I don’t even think of them in that way, but it’s so.  Immigration problems?  Sure, we have many no doubt, but let us never lose sight of the fact that good and deserving people still want to come to this increasingly flawed, but still fabulous, land of opportunity.

John and Angela also make it a priority, every couple of years, to return to Africa to visit family and friends that chose to stay behind.  They regularly send support money back home to help loved ones in that decimated country.  They’re family, remember.

I don’t know if it’s the inherent culture of first generation immigrants from their country, just the loving and sharing nature of these two wonderful people, or a combination of both.  But what I do know, what I did see, and experience, and feel, is a commitment to family sadly lacking in many homes in America.

They simply embrace the belief that family is everything.  All decisions flow from that premise – no exceptions.  They will do anything to preserve, protect, and nurture that precious gift.  The Kargobais may be swimming against the tide of everyday modern life, but they don’t seem to care.  And it shows. They are a one happy lot. They feel blessed, and enjoy life with an optimism many of us would die for. They are content, which is way ahead of where most of us are. I wish I knew 1,000 Kargobais.  I could use some of their “vibe.” We all could. 

Mark Twain Quote: “True love is the only heart disease that is best left to “run on” – the only affection of the heart for which there is no help, and none desired.”