Halloween, Part Four.....and the Survey Says.......

In a manner most fitting, the Cape Cinema in Dennis had a Halloween showing of the National Theater Live's production of Frankenstein last night.  Produced in 2011, this critically-acclaimed version of Mary Shelley's classic was meticulously directed by Oscar-winner Danny Boyle. It was magnificent and thought provoking.

Along with the notions of good and evil, viewers were asked to think about the themes of scientific responsibility, cognitive development and the effects of parental neglect. The neurotic Doctor Victor Frankenstein created a living, breathing, nameless creature whose biggest desire was to be accepted as a human.  A scientist, and  man of great vision, Frankenstein used his intellect and  gifts in ways that, in the end, proved to be not only irrational but irresponsible.  After all, creating a monster who killed innocent people is not exactly a socially responsible endeavor.  The first twenty minutes of Boyle's stage play shows the creature  as he is born, bursting from what appears to be a huge amniotic sac. Incapable of much more than a series of  flips and flops on the ground, his brain an empty canvas, he must first learn to walk.  The birth of intelligence, with the rapid acquisition of cognitive skills astonish us as we watch the monster mimic and learn. We see the pathetic scorned creation of Victor Frankenstein, unloved and uncared for by his only parent after repeated attempts to gain his attention.  In the end, both father and son go off toward their mutual demise. Was it all worth it?

Hours before leaving our home for last evening's show, I read about a study which was almost as frightening as Mary Shelley's novel.  This study, by "Common Sense Media", a non-profit children's advocacy group, says that 38% of children under age two, have had experience with mobile media. Children, just learning to walk, have used mobile devices, including iPhones,tablets and Kindles.  The figures have skyrocketed  from a mere 10% in 2011. This statistic might not come as a surprise to anyone who has visited a playground, a mode of public transportation or a restaurant in the past several years.  Recently, I watched a baby, surely not even eighteen months old, holding a small touchscreen device which displayed a kiddie video meant to amuse as his mother grocery shopped.  We don't have to be told that children are using smartphones and tablets for longer periods of time, watching videos and playing games.  We witness this, every day and everywhere. In addition, we see parents, eyes glued to their own touch devices, seemingly ignoring their children.  Is this the new neglect? Or is this the new parenting?  It's scary either way.

I just can't help but wonder where all of this is heading.  True, the babies of today are growing up to face a world very different from their grandparent's, even from their own parent's.  We hear that schools are allowing students to bring their devices to school and, with careful monitoring, teachers who now teach in a digital age find this beneficial.  The Brave New World is here and the babies have so much to learn.  Or do they?  Will the future generations need to learn anything or will they have all the information they could possibly need, right before their eyes at all times?  Will they have to acquire social skills or will their connections be exclusive to the devices in their hands?  What will future hands actually look like? Will all digits be in use in the digital age or will we see hands with large thumbs and no others. When I think back to the report cards of our yesterdays, I see columns checked off by teachers.  "Plays well with others", the prerequisite to "works well with others" stands out in my mind.  I fear the total demise of social grace and skills approaching as the percentages laid out by the Common Sense Media report rapidly escalate.

Is science being irresponsible?  Perhaps Mary Shelley, back in the early nineteenth century had a message for us, one that we need to ponder carefully as our civilization progresses.  Is technology creating a nameless monster?   I find myself asking again, was it all worth it?

To read more: http://www.entrepreneur.com/article/229640#ixzz2jOSCBKKL

Halloween Morning and the Painters are Still Here!!

Ladders thumping against the side of the house, boom, boom as they hit

Long, long lengths of heavy duty electrical cords, extended everywhere that I need to be

Green paint

Black paint, railings that will take days to dry

Already got some green paint on one of my favorite new thrift shop bargain rain coats.Can you imagine, I snagged it for five bucks and it sold for over a hundred originally. Painters told me it will come out.  We'll see.

Boom box boomba di boomba.  I think it's Portuguese. A lot of the men are Brazilian.  Loud and lively.  Good, because they need it to work and so do I.  All those parties this week meant laundry did not get done.  Now, it's getting done.

I'm sitting here, watching a guy on a ladder, way high up on the house next door.  Not one thought to safety.  If he falls, he'll get hurt and won't be able to work unsafely or otherwise for a very long time.  But he does not seem to care so I'll close the curtain and stop being an occupational health nurse for now.  Or a mother.

Oh, joy!  Someone is blowing leaves with a noisy leaf blower.  What's next?

All of this reminds me of the workmen underneath the window in Assisi.  Also young, foolish, unconcerned about their safety or the well-being of the residents.

No matter where you go, there you are.

Halloween Parts Two and Three. I Get Inspired by my Friends

Very soon, it will be time to start what I hope might result in the loss of some body fat.  But, this is not the week for any measurement of success in that particular area of my life.

Halloween, Part Two came yesterday and Part Three, just this afternoon.  Two luncheons with two groups of wonderful friends.

Every Tuesday morning, a small group of us gather at the home of our friend Lois.  We're all former members of a series of classes that were taught at the Museum of Art in Dennis.  That's where we all met for the first time and the bond formed.  We've been pursuing our creative dreams since then and while it has come in many forms, the bottom line is and always has been, fun.  Tuesday mornings feel very much like our kindergarten days. Pam says we're going to Brownies.  Boxes of paints,seashells, papers and whatever it takes to create what we may all have earlier dreamed up, appear on a table for sharing.  Scissors fly as we cut and tear.  Glitter is poured out as we sparkle our conversations and sometimes, we succeed in making something good enough to take home and put on display. Our coffee hour often morphs into prosecco time.

Yesterday, Lois hosted our Second Annual Halloween luncheon and it was a doozy.  She's a fabulous cook, loves to entertain, and does it all so well.  The entire house was decorated, Martha Stewart was channelled and the food was amazing.  The "Tuesdays at Loie's" group had a heck of a good time.

Lois' Dining Room

Several months ago, a group of five women met for the first time at a local coffee house for the purpose of sharing their creative lives.  That group is now up to fourteen members. The premise is that  creativity is inborn.  Human beings, by their nature, are creative.  It's just that sometimes we get sidetracked.  We don't believe that we have the ability because someone might have told us otherwise.  Perhaps, in our childhood, we were given the wrong message. Even if we do realize our creative talent, we often get too busy.  There are so many reasons why people need to be pushed back into their creative lives and that is exactly what we, the "Creative Chatters" do for each other.  We decide on a word and we create, based on that word.  Some of us write, some draw, some collage, some paint and one quilts. We surprise each other, like show and tell for grown ups.  We're strictly a no-judgement zone.  Everything is wonderful and the stories.......they are fun.  We're friends and we inspire each other as friends should.

Today, we gathered at "Chatter" Imogene's for a potluck holiday lunch and again, all the stoppers were pulled.  Her lovely house was decorated, the table was full of  fun and the food, way too much of a good thing.  We said "yes" to everything and we had no regrets.  There's always a next week, isn't there?

The hostess with the mostess

I'm exhausted.  But geesh, how lucky can one woman be.  I have to laugh every time I'm asked by an off-Cape person, about how we spend our time when summer ends.  We kind of would like to keep it somewhat of a secret because we love the peace and calm after the busy season.  Truth is, we have a life, a good one.  Friendships are very, very important to us and when we are together, we understand the meaning of life and we truly are inspired by each other.  Each and every day of the year.  Not just Halloween. What we don't have, we create because it's in each and every one of us to do that and it's all okay.

Halloween, Part One

Tuesday is off to an un-nerving and noisy start.  Painters are outside all of our windows, high up on ladders, sanding, sanding and sanding more.  There is NO getting away from it.  It sounds like we are living in the biggest dental office in the world and I'm just happy that for once, neither of us has a headache.  For now, I'm just trying my best to cope and to not get caught coming out of the shower or putting on my Spanx for the next part of the day. Most of our windows are uncovered.  We live in a tree house and we're birds on display at the moment.

VICTORY is sweet

Sara and Lucy

The week had a better start, trust me.
 We were privileged to have spent all day Sunday in Sudbury with our girls.
Our son in law left in the wee hours of the morning for his weekly ritual, yet another business trip.  We arrived to a huge welcome from daughter Sara and granddaughters Lucy and Phoebe.  And then the fun began.  A 5K road race, beautifully executed by Sara and seven year old Lucy, during which five year old Phoebe got full court press from Nonno who did playground duty.  Same playground that we visited with same kids two years ago but this time, something very different to observe.  Where were the Smartphones? Last time, all the daddies were busy with every virtual thing they could get their hands on, barely glancing up at their children at play.  Not this bunch.  These were the dads who actually participated in life.  They were here for the Sudbury Halloween Family Run and the difference was palpable.  I think these kids stand a good chance in the game of life.  It was fun waiting near the finish line for my baby and hers and as they came around the bend, the joy of the accomplishment was easy to see on that beautiful little face.  The joy wasn't too far from the face of the mommy who wins life's races every day.  Sure, we were proud but mostly, we were just plain happy.

Monstermashing with Phobe

Sara and the goddess Lucy

After a birthday party drop-off, lunch with Sara and Lucy which included a discussion of current events as deemed important by a second-grader (Woody Allen could NOT be the father of Mia Farrow's son.....he looks JUST like Frank Sinatra)......we were off to Round Two in the Halloween celebration.  Costumes on, makeup just right (I introduced the babies to my hot new lipstick color, Wild Orchid, and they got hooked),  we all headed to their ballet school for a huge party.  These lucky little ladies don't go to "Miss Frisbee's School of Dance" as did I at least a hundred years ago.  No, they attend what is the second best school of ballet in the state, MassBallet.(Guess which one's the first)  In addition to watching the beauty of lots of little girls in their fun and creative interpretations ranging from Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz to the most adorable little lady bug in glittery Ugg boots, we were treated to a short ballet. The talents of a few dozen "older" girls who have made the decision to use their bodies in beautiful ways and to move more than their fingers was showcased.  Funny, we did not see any tattoos or piercings.

  I wonder if their dads and moms made some kind of commitment years ago on a playground?  Maybe. It's hard work this mommy-daddy business of today but we ask God to bless them all and to inspire some wisdom into them, perhaps a peek into their futures would be the kicker.  As their approaching 68 year old grandfather says to his fitness students every day, "keep moving folks"

Memorare

Here it is again.  Monday.  Dreaded by some, loved by others.  Those of us who no longer have to report to work look forward to this day each week.  New start.  All new entries on the whiteboard calendar on the refrigerator.  Full days, especially this week.  Creative pursuits await.  Gatherings with friends are on the horizon.  Lots to talk about.  Lots to write about.  The sun is shining and I wish I could invite the world in to see the view from the back of our apartment.  Breathtaking.  Alive. Hard to believe that one year ago, we awaited a hurricane.  Hard to believe that we, living so close to the sea, escaped the ravages that our neighbors to the south were forced to endure.  Sandy.  SuperStorm.  Just beginning this time last year.

And, at the very same time, my personal SuperStorm was concluding.  Fierce winds blowing about me had come to a calm and the beautiful aftermath was preparing to become the beautiful hereafter. A story that had been long overdue was about to unfold as I found my peace and closed chapter after chapter.  I'm calm and I'm gloriously happy as I notice in my own self a more creative and productive life, filled with confidence in my ability to weather storms of most any magnitude.

And, to all who weathered the storm, peace to you.  You are proud and you are stronger than any storm that comes to your shores.  You are Americans.  Never forget that.

I'm Listening.......

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

“	Really pay attention to negative feedback and solicit it, particularly from friends. … Hardly anyone does that, and it's incredibly helpful." Elon Musk Elon Musk: The mind behind Tesla, SpaceX, SolarCity ...

In the Neighborhood

The documentary class that I wrote about a few weeks ago, well, it's become a vital part of my life now.  I look forward to Friday afternoons and cannot think of anything that might cause me to stray from the path that leads to the college library at the appointed time.

We've already been treated to some great films.  We don't get clues beforehand, just show up.  My friend Miriam always gets there early and saves me a seat.  That kindness comes in handy because I come to the doc class directly after a quick lunch, having spent the morning in my writing class.  There's nothing that could make me feel more like an eighteen year-older than racing across a college campus to get to another class. Somehow, it was all so easier back in those days.  For now, I need that good friend who saves me the seat!

Yesterday's selection was extra-special.  With all the worries that are currently plaguing the country and touching our daily lives, Lily thought it might be good to see a film that was just about as carefree and flawless as one can get.  She was spot on when she suggested that we sit back and enjoy what she promised would be a film about goodness and purity, light and easy.  Her choice for this mission, "Me and Mister Rogers" a seventy nine minute love note produced by a team of brothers who befriended the PBS icon and found their lives transformed from the first moment.

In our usual fashion, the film was followed by group discussion. The discussions are an exciting and oftentimes exhilarating part of the experience.  This is a group of highly educated and opinionated people.  Not only do they share a love for the genre, but they also share a love of freedom of speech usually resulting in different and oftentimes passionate presentations of ideas.  One can only imagine those presentations last week when we viewed a film on the rise and fall of Elliot Spitzer in New York.  But this week's after-discussion was very different.  We were talking about a person who apparently never did anything wrong in his whole life.  Or at least, we would never believe it if we were told otherwise.  The world's most beloved neighbor, Mr. Rogers.

I don't think mine were the only tear-filled eyes.  Fred Rogers.  Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.  How can I ever, ever thank you enough.  Mr. Fred Rogers, now dearly departed Mr. Rogers.  Not a day went by without his voice softly invading our living room....at just the right time of day.  Were you a babysitter? If you were, you were the most perfect babysitter.  Were you a teacher?  A preacher?  Or, were you just a good friend, one who really and truly believed that  deep and simple is far more essential than shallow and complex, that respect for each other is paramount and that we're all just fine, just the way we are?

I'll never forget the tone of voice, the gentle movements as a grown man sat on a bench to tie the laces on his tennis sneakers, his white shirt, his tie and his cardigan sweaters that his own grandmother had made especially for him.  He soothed the children as they readied for bed.  He told us all that we would be fine and that we would be loved no matter how bad our days were or how scary the night ahead.  He told us that our bodies were fancy, just like his, and talked about respect for ourselves and for others.  Not one word ever had to be censored and we hung on every one, distinctly feeling that Mr. Rogers was speaking to each of us personally. To this day, I miss Mr.Fred Rogers and I hope that he is in the best neighborhood in Heaven with every day beautiful. Somehow, I'm sure he is and I'm sure that they are, just as he so richly deserves.

The greatest gift you ever give is your honest self.”
― Fred Rogers