Anyone coming to visit?

Don't be discouraged by the weather reports. I just came in after playing tennis from 9:00 a.m. to noon. It was great! The new thermometer that I put out in the bushes in front of the lanai read 50 at 8:00a.m. I dressed in layers, Tennis shirt,skirt, warm-up pants and jacket with a light jacket layered in between. By 9:30 a.m. I had stripped off all my outer layers. Sitting in the sun at courtside, waiting my turn to play, it was perfectly comfortable in a tennis skirt and blouse. And on the court it was fine. Little wind, Bright sun. It is 60 degrees now in the bushes out front with a moderate NW wind blowing. I'm headed to the pool for a swim. Think I'll sit in a chaise lounge and continue with my Continuing Education Credit challenge.

I picked Holistic and Complementary Therapies for my 15 hour CEUs. It is actually interesting if written for Idiots. Nursing education for Idiots might be a better title, than Western School whatever it is. The rules say to keep track of time spent. There are, after the Introduction, Pretest, Index, Bibliography, Glossary, List of Online Resources and Exam questions at the end of each chapter, approximately 130 pages of actual text, maybe. I've covered Four Chapter in 2 hours, about 40 pages.

I've whipped through the differences Between Biomedical and Holistic Approaches to Healing, Common Types of Complementary and Alternative Therapies, Aromatherapy, Herbal Therapy and I'm on to Reflexology. I'm learned a few things. Not sure how much of it will be useful if I work at Hospice this Summer, but some of it may come in handy. When I arrive at my assigned patient's home I'll be wearing shorts, respectable shorts, and a blouse, carrying Lavender or Lemon Balm and Ginger cookies. It could work.

Back to the weather. Forget all that stuff about a Cold Front. Just because it isn't 70 or 80 doesn't mean it isn't pleasant here. What someone needs to do is find a place in the lee and enjoy the warmth, as I did yesterday and today. As I type this I notice that my hands are tanned. Maybe my face is.

So, if you are thinking about coming to visit or you have a visit planned don't, as I said, be discouraged. It is beautiful here looking out on the Inland Water Way. The birds are enjoying the wind. We had a Dolphin out front the other day doing a lazy cruise through. Diving and surfacing. No Killer Whales sighted in the Bay yet.

A group of White Pelicans are around with the Brown. Residen Osprey,t Great Blue Heron and Little Blue Heron, probably more herons and other species. I haven't spent much time looking. Great group of Black-headed Parakeets that shriek at the tennis players from the telephone lines along Midnight Pass Road. Of course, the "Uh, Oh, Uh, Oh," of the Fish Crows is omnipresent when they are congregating and vocalizing. As avertised by the Sun Rise Cove Yacht and Racquet Club, "Paradise."

Talked to the woman who owns the sailboat at the end of the dock, The Flo Along. It rarely, if ever leaves the dock. Well, last year they took it over to have the hull painted, but other than that it sits, or floats. It's about 25 -30 feet, slowly collecting barbacles. Kathy and Ron are very good-natured, have a sense of humor about the boat and its plight, non-sailing.

Don't know who owns the other sailboat. It appears to be larger, but I think it has a 29 on it somewhere. Could that be the length. Reminds me of my one sailing adventure back in 1969, sailing with three friends from Falmouth Harbour, MA to Norfolk, VA in October, I think it was.

That's a story for another time. Gotta Go. FAN

Response to Comments

Unfortunately, I am on dial up here. I have tried, unsuccessfully to send photos via aol. I have tried to upload photographs to the blog, but I can not. Perhaps I'll take this laptop to someplace that has wifi and try again. FAN

Approaching cold front, with addition.

Good News! It is overcast. Weather people predict a Cold Front approaching. Expected rain this afternoon, 39 degrees for Friday a.m. Temperatures in the 50's and 60's for the next week. Not a 70 in sight. I am thrilled because I have a lot of indoor things I'd like to accomplish.

A box arrived yesterday containing a Continuing Education Credit book, 170 pages, and test sheets that need to be completed and sent back before next week to enable me to be legally educated for renewal of my RN license. I still have thank you notes to write dating back to last Summer. I'm determined to write those and the others that Christmas created.

Luckily yesterday also brought sunshine, as evidenced by yesterdays' post. I was able to take a swim in the warm pool. I went back after the water color class, but got talking with a friend and didn't get another swim. As Lillian, who I haven't seen since late last March, and I gabbed we watched steam or mist or fog rise off the pool and swirl around. Some kind of phenomenon which occurs when cold air hits warm water. I tried taking a photo, but forgot to see if I captured the sight. It did not inspire us to take a dip. The thought of getting out of the pool is what is preventing most people from going into the pool.

Anyhow, the swim around noon was great. A few laps up and down the pool. Most of the people standing in the water up to their necks were people I'd never seen before. Lots of Mid-Westerners here. On a walk around the parking lot I noticed many license plates from Ohio, Michigan, Illinois. There is one couple who drives from Nevada, others from Pennsylvania, NY, NJ, MA a Minnesota and then some rentals.

Happily I spotted only one Mercedes in the lot and it might have been visiting. When we starting renting here about 8 years ago, there were no Mercedes. None or very few luxury cars. A near Paradise. East Chop was much the same 10 -12 years ago. One or two Mercedes, but times have changed. If use ask me times have changed, not for the better. Read on.

Now at Sun Rise Cove there are a few Cadillacs, dark, understated, no gold, a little chrome. Lots of Buicks. A few vans and SUVs. Some Toyotas, VWs. One Lexus. and One BMW. And, of course, Elvis' Bright Red Corvette. The BMW belongs to a friend. I don't begrudge her a luxury car. She owns a BMW dealership in PA. What is she supposed to drive?

Of all the LUXURY cars I find the BMW the least offensive and the most attractive, to me. I think it is well made, fun to drive, isn't too flashy. Doesn't shout LOOK AT ME, I'M RICH, like a Mercedes. If I had a Billion dollars I might buy one.

I do have a few friends who do own a Mercedes and I let them off the hook also, like my friend with the BMW. Why? Well, two of them are African Americans. I think if you are African American and you have survived the racism in this country to get to a place where you have become successful financially then you have a right to flaunt it. I think, and you may call it reverse racism or reverse snobbery or you may call it anything you like. I don't care what you call it. I'm simply stating what I think and feel. It doesn't mean I'm right or I couldn't have my mind changed. But I do enjoy seeing the two people I know, off the top of my head, who are African American, drive up or by in their Mercedes. They have earned it. They deserve a luxury car. It makes me feel good to see them behind the wheel, enjoying a little luxury.

Why doesn't it make me feel good to see somebody else, somebody I don't know, drive up or by in a Mercedes? I don't know their history. I'm not sure they struggled to get where they are. I'm not sure they aren't part of the crowd who are simply insecure, needy. The people who are either very insecure so they need to broadcast to the world, "I've Made It Financially." Or they are the people who are in the, "I've Got Mine," crowd. The people who think, becausee they can afford a Mercedes the rest of us are suppose to step aside, or respect them and their wealth. I hope they don't think they are better than anyone else because they have a little money. For all I know they are renting their Mercedes to use it to make an impression on others. Using a Mercedes as a status symbol because they want others to know how important or how rich or how something they are. Well, I'm one of the people who are negatively impressed by their short-sightedness. Their lack of regard for the environment. Their blatant display of wealth when so many people in this world have so little.

Perhaps I am bigoted. Perhaps I'm a reverse snob or whatever label you want to put on me. But forget about me. Think about why anyone buys a Mercedes. Is it because it is engineered better than other cars. it is because it is a better car, or does it appeal to them because of its beauty, its appointments, the way it drives. Or is it, like a Dior suit or a Channel something or an Armani something or a Hermes something, a status symbol? Is there anything wrong with that?

I'm not going to make a judgement, but I do wonder about people's priorities. Perhaps people who drive Luxury cars feel a special need for luxury. Perhaps they have given all the money they possibly can to charity. Perhaps they have so much money, like a Billionaire, that they are forced to spend money and have to buy an expensive automobile? NO, that isn't why someone buys a Mercedes.

Perhaps someone who owns a Mercedes and reads this blog, if there is anyone out there like that, will comment and tell me why they own a Mercedes. I'd like to take a poll. Ask Mercedes owners why they chose a Mercedes rather than a Buick or a Toyota or some other vehicle. Doesn't it have something to do with Image. Don't people make moral choices when they purchase something like an automobile?

Do you want to help the environment, or injure it less? Buy a hybrid. Do you want to impress certain people. Buy a luxury car. However, you will not be impressing me, at least not positively. If you drive up to my house in a luxury car you may set off a red flag in my psyche. If you are a friend of mine I may have to disregard your choice of car so we can remain friends. After all if I can be friends with Right wing Republicans, which I can, I can also be friends with people who drive luxury cars, but I may not want to emulate them.

If I ever do buy a luxury car I may have to recant all of this. I must say I am very much a lover of performance cars like a Ferrari, Maserati, Porsche, BMW. I love Saabs, Rovers, and of course, old Austin Healeys. I did own one in my twenties. When I was young, I wanted a red convertible with a great sounding engine after I sold my motorcycle.

How do I or does anyone, talk the talk and walk the walk. I want to support a healthy ecosystem. I drive a Prius, an old 2001 Prius that I bough second hand. I'll keep it as long as I can and then I'll buy another energy efficient car. What about my love for performance cars and motorcycles?

Paul, the handy man here at Sun Rise Cove, and I were talking yesterday as I was walking around the parking lot checking out license plates. I noticed his silver Yamaha motorcycle parked out back. Beautiful. We talked motorcycles for a while. Then he told me something very valuable. I can go on line, Google Sebring and find a place that will let me drive performance cars, I think, or maybe motorcycles or maybe both around the race track. Something I'm going to look into.

If I can drive a car, every once in a while, like the Ferrari I drove many years ago or the Porsche or a Maserat,i I don't need to own one. I could get the fun of driving without owning. I can save the environment or pollute it less than my gas-guzzling neighbor who drives a huge SUV, or luxury car, by owning and driving a hybrid, but every once in a while I can get my kicks by driving a fast, well-engineered car, built for speed. That might be a good solution for me. I'm not sure how the rest of you will solve this problem.

When I was a kid, under the age of nine, my sister and I would play the game - What would you do if you had a million dollars. We lived in a great house that I loved on the North Bluff, so we had to think of things, other than houses, we could buy for ourselves. Our neighbor, whose name I've forgotten, had a pretty large Cabin Cruiser. He took the neighborhood kids out for rides. It might be nice to have one of our own, I thought, but I thought an airplane would be great to have. A Piper cub or perhaps a Sea Plane. Yellow, perhaps. I could take it up and fly where ever I wanted to go. Great! A large, every thing had to be large if you were trying to spend a million dollars back in the 40's, sailboat sounded great too.

What else did I want to buy with a million dollars? Can't remember. Maybe some comic books.

Today, in order to play a game like my sister, Faye, and I played, I imagine it would have to be called. What would you do if you had a Billion dollars.

I've often said if I had a Billion dollars I would not spend money on dresses that cost thousands of dollars or fancy cars or McMansions or anything flashy. However, if I were forced to spend a Billion dollars and I had to spend it on myself, not give it to charity or to someone else, etc. what would I do?

I saw a very beautiful silver Maserati last Satuday. It had been quite a long time since I'd seen one. So, I took photos of it from the back, front, both sides, to document its existence parked on a side street in Sarasota. I've ridden in, but never drove a Maserati. Wonderful feeling of speed and elegance. But, where can you actually drive one the way they are built to be driven? The Autobahn.

I've been fond of Ferraris and Porsches. I've driven both. The Ferrari much more exciting than the Porsche, but both pleasing to look at. Would I want to own one? NO. No place to drive it. Too flashy. Once you own something that costs a fortune you, I suppose, have to "worry" about loosing it. What if someone stole it? You have to have elaborate alarm systems and locked garages and live behind gates, etc. That sounds terrible. Who wants to live like that worrying about possessions?

Lots of people want to live like that, I guess. There are people, as we know, who want expensive toys and things and want to live in exclusive areas or buy expensive art or jewelry or fancy cars or boats or whatever. The problem with owning all that stuff is: It owns you. Once you have a lot of stuff, you may find you spend your time taking care of it. Or you spend your time preventing other people from taking it. All a waste of TIME. TIME being the most important assest we posses. Time to relax. Time to spend with friends and family. Time to do what you damn well please. TIME.

Money can buy time. IF you have a lot of money you can pay others to do the things you don't want to do or the things that take up your time. You pay others and then you have the TIME to do what you want. So, money can be important and useful, But money itself isn't everything. In fact money can be crippling. Suppose you had a Billion dollars. How much time would that take to deal with it?

It is probably impossible to spend a Billion dollars on oneself, hopefully. It isn't impossible to loose a Billion dollars by being extravagant, investing badly. That's something most anyone could do. You can always give money away to good causes or friends. You could build schools in Afghanistan or Guatemala. You, probably, couldn't influence the government to do the right thing by the poor, the underserved, the people without healthcare, proper homes or good nutrition with a Billion dollars. It would take much, much more money than that to influence our government, i.e., the Congress, the Senate.

However, if I had "All the money in the world" as a friend used to describe the reality of being very wealthy, would I be able to hold to my principles? If you had so much money that you couldn't possibly spend it all, what would you do?

Gotta go get some lunch. I'll get back to this topic later. Meanwhile I think I'll drive Skip's Buick over to the mainland along with Skip and pick up some watercolor supplies. I found using a brush to paint color on a piece of paper much more fun than painting the bathroom. Not that I've ever painted the bathroom here. Maybe that's fun. Later, FAN

First swim in the pool!

"It doesn't get better than this". An expression I've heard a few times today. My watch says the time is 12:42. I'm sitting in a tanning sun in a plastic chaise lounge chair by the pool. I may be the youngest person by the pool. I may also be the thinest. I doubt that am the richest, if we're talking money. I don't see anyone else writing their blog. Bright blue sky, a few puffy white clouds to the East. The sun feels great! Temperature around 70, but the pool is protected on three sides with wind breaks. The water temp. is 86, light wind. I could stay here awhile and fry or go off to a watercolor class. It would be a first for me. Tough decision. Rain is predicted for tomorrow. Guess I'll try something new. The sun will probably come out again some day, the watercolor class meets once a week and I can't get to it next week. Gotta Go. Fan

Why do I write this blog?

Recently I’ve been wondering, from time to time, why I post to this blog. Why do I write? Who do I write to? My answer, off the top of my head without a lot of reflection is: I write because I get the urge to write. I want to write. Because I like to, because it’s fun. I write to keep a record for myself of what’s happening in my world. I write to keep connected to/with my friends and family. Knowing there are people out there who are interested in all, or some of, my ramblings, rantings, ravings, my opinions or what’s going on in my life is encouraging.

I write because no one has suggested I stop writing, quite the opposite. Every once in a while I get a personal e-mail, not a comment on the blog, that encourages me to keep on writing. In the process of writing I often find out what I think and feel. Often I start writing about what I’m thinking, with the notion I have something all figured out. My notion is I have an opinion. This is it. Then I start writing, which makes me start thinking and sometimes I find out I have an opinion that differs from what I thought I thought. That is a benefit.

Writing, instead of closing my mind to other ideas or solidifying my opinion on some issue, can open my mind to other ideas, opinions. I like to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions. Different ideas stimulate thought. I’m happy to have comments pro and con about my writing or what I’m writing about.

There isn’t much to say about my reports of what’s going on at Sun Rise Cove. I would like to know if anyone out there is bored with my writing, but I suppose anyone who is bored by my blog has stopped reading and isn’t around to tell me. I may have lost a valuable commentor or not. However, I understand that most of you reading this blog have a life, better things to do with your life than respond to what I’m writing. You are busy or not inclined to write.

Some of you may not be comfortable writing in a place where someone else can view what you write. That’s O.K. I’ll probably continue writing as long as it serves a purpose for me, whether anyone reads it or not. However, if I knew no one, not one person, was reading what I write would I continue? At the moment. Yes. Writing is a way to process my life, understand it, grow from that understanding. A little like dreaming.

Who do I write to? My friends and family. I have no idea who reads this. Well, I have some idea. I know four of you have signed on as followers. I know there may be others out there who read this. Unfortunately I’m not sure who I have told about this blog and who I haven’t told. I’m reluctant to send out an e-mail to alert people for fear of annoying someone I’ve already e-mailed. I doubt there is anyone reading this who doesn’t know me or know someone who knows me.

Some of you don’t know me that well, haven’t known me for very long. You’ll get to know me better by reading this blog, but I miss out on getting to know you better, unless you start a blog and tell me about it. One draw back of this blog is the one-way street aspect of it. Nothing is perfect.

My friend, Simone, told me she reads this blog. We have known each other since we were 5 yrs. old, although we didn’t keep in close contact for a number of years. My very first friend was Judy. We met shortly before I met Simone.

Judy moved to the Vineyard in 1948. At least this is what I remember. She may have different memories. She moved from Worcester, MA just after a Tornado went through there. She was born in October 1942. I was born in March 1943. We were both 5 years old, as I recall, when we met. Must have been in the Summer, before first grade began.

I lived on the North Bluff at the time with my father, Albert Edward H. and my mother, Dorothy Mae .....Norton H. 10 Saco Avenue. My father was the Postmaster in Oak Bluffs. Doris Shackleton lived across the street with her mother and older brother. The only other family on the Bluff in the Winter were the Willoughbys. Kendall was a little older than Judy and I. He had an older sister and, a younger sister. I’ve forgotten their names.

Judy, her mother, father and older sister lived two streets over. Her Auntie Serra lived at the bottom of the hill, during the summers, as I recall.

Before Judy arrived I had no playmates. I spent the first five years of my life with my parents, my very much older siblings, an occassional baby sitter or alone. For some reason my parents did not send me to kindergarten. They tried to send me to a sort of day care the summer I was four, l947. Mrs. Sharples, Stanley’s mother, took kids in for the day. That’s the way I thought of it.

That summer my father bought The Captain’s Table, a diner, now demolished, across from The Tivoli, now the OB police station. The diner sat where the Standby Diner was built, now a Chinese Restaurant. Both my mother and father worked there, my father after work in the PO. My half-sister, Faye was 21 and away at nursing school. My half-brother, Bill, was 18, probably working at Amaral Brothers, beginning his career as a plumber.

What to do with me? I’ll bet my mother wondered. So, I was taken over to the Sharples’ house, off New York Avenue, somewhere above and behind the stone house. The only thing I remember about that day was this. Me sitting at a table for lunch looking at food I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Something like spaghetti with tomatoes. The only way I would eat a tomato was in tomato soup, Campbell’s. There was very little I did eat when I was four, five, six, I’m told. I do remember I ate hamburg (hamburger), raw carrots, coffee ice cream, Coffee ice cream sodas, maybe some mashed potatoes, perhaps a grilled cheese sandwich, macaroni and cheese - comfort food. There wasn’t much comfort in my home. I got it from food.

Anyhow, I sat at the table, scared to death, not knowing what to do. I knew I couldn’t eat the food in front of me. I didn’t want to be impolite, but what could I do? I had not learned to speak up or even talk very much. I was painfully shy when I was little. I didn’t eat, probably cried. My mother came and got me. I remember telling her how much I didn’t like it there. How I couldn’t eat the food, didn’t like being in a strange place, with strange kids, strange food. I must have done a lot of crying, something I was pretty good at, because I never went back to Mrs. Sharples’ house, nice as she was.

The good news. I spent the Summer of 1947, at The Captain’s Table and my love of Diners began. Downstairs under the diner there was a cot across from the wonderful old ice boxes. The whole wall, as I remember it, the ice box/refrigerator, was covered with beautiful wooden doors which had stainless steel handles, cool to the touch and pleasing to the eye, that lifted to open. I read comic books and entertained myself down there part of the time as my mother worked upstairs. When I wasn’t hanging out next to the refrigerators I went next door to the Bowling Alley.

At the bowling alley was an old black man whose name I can’t remember, maybe never knew. He tried to teach me how to bowl. I wasn’t all that great at bowling at four, but I loved rolling the balls down the wooden alleys. The place seemed so huge to me. I loved how cool it was inside on a hot summer’s day. There must have been five alleys? Way down at the end of the alley sat the ten duck pins. The East wall of the bowling alley was comprised of large wooden windows/shutters, no glass panes. The wooden windows were propped open in some way. No screens. The breeze came in through the large open sections of wall.

I carefully carried the small, smooth, cool to the touch, marbled balls over to the alley with this kind man’s help and tried very hard to roll the ball, not bounce it, onto the alley, not into the gutter. I watched as it rolled toward the duck pins. No automatic pin resetting. There were kids sitting atop the alleys at the other end. When I rolled my third ball down they would clear the dead wood and reset the pins. I wished I could work in the bowling alley, but I think that wish came later, when I was a teen or pre-teen. No chance of being a pin boy, I was a girl. Girls need not apply. Only boys got to work there. There and at gas stations. Another job I wanted, but couldn’t have due to my gender.

Eventually, years later, I did get to walk down a wooden alley and reset the pins, but not at that bowling alley. The bowling alley where I first bowled was knocked down in the fifties or sixties. Somewhere I have a post card depicting the old green fronted wooden building next to the diner.

I got to reset pins at the other bowling alley in Oak Bluffs, Lenardo’s. (that doesn’t sound right. Was it Leonardo’s?) I wasn’t working there. I think I was allowed to reset pins a couple of times when the automatic machine failed. I was on a bowling team when I was seventeen, the year I spent working at Cronig Brother’s market in Vineyard Haven, waiting to be old enough, 18, to get off of Martha’s Vineyard and into nursing school. But that’s another story for another time. FAN.

Thursday, February 18th, Sun Rise Cove Yacht & Racquet Club

Arrived Monday evening. Tuesday breakfast at the Patisserie. Great place! Lots of grocery shopping at Public. Olympics and Dog Show. Unpack some more. Visit Ginny and pick grapefruits and oranges. Found a great bakery that makes Orange Rounds - $2.50- enough for at least 2 people. Gave one to Ginny. More Olympics. Cooking in. Eating healthy.

Today I went over to the office to get a current phone book for the Condo complex. Ran into Brooke, Lois’ daughter, a tennis player. She is here til March 1st, off to Aspen, returning March 9th for the Tennis tournament which is 3/10-3/12 this year. She’s a lot of laughs on the court.

While I was talking with her, along came Sid, another tennis player who made music videos for advertisers for a living. Now he writes, directs, plays piano for the annual entertainment put on by Sun Rise Covers the night of the tennis awards ceremony. Luckily I have escaped any singing and dancing again this year.

After hello to Monica, another tennis player not allowed to play with us because she works not lives in the condo complex, in the office and Paul, the handy man, went to check out if anyone was on the courts.

George, Jack L., John and his wife, Sandy, who has lost her teaching job, is subbing and playing in the tournament this year, were playing on Court One. Sandy is a very good tennis player. She’ll be hard to beat.

On Court Two, actually sitting in the sun beside the court were Carolyn, Jack S., Phil and Don. Hugs and kisses all around from the men.

Carolyn hugs too. She has a shoulder problem this year, Last year she had her foot operated on. She’s a good player. Jack S. says he has recently developed spinal stenosis and is having trouble walking and playing tennis, but he’s still playing. Phil’s wife, Jan, had her gallbladder out in December. Don rushed off to eat breakfast.

Harry is playing a little. His wife, Irmguard, is never on the court, but comes to social events. They live here year round as do Sandy and John K.

Everyone asking, “How’s Skip?” “Fine, Fine.” Not sure he’ll be playing tennis due to his problems with his eyesight, but we’ll practice some and see what happens re The Tournament.

Tomorrow is round robin. Friday, Wednesday, Sunday. Everyone welcome. Considering the fact I haven’t played since September I was hoping to ease into tennis, maybe have a lesson with Raj before hitting the court, but why worry. It may be ugly, at first, but with any luck it will come back to me. Best to have a lesson though first. I’ll see how bad/ugly it is tomorrow. It will be fun no matter how badly I’m playing. Good to hit a ball around with friends. Nobody really cares who wins or looses, except for a few very competitive types. Besides noone remembers who won or lost 15 minutes after play ends, including me.

Visited with Helen Q. Jack S is running the tournament this year. Jean H died, unfortunately. She was a wonderful, friendly woman who took photos of everyone and gave them away. She enjoyed people and the social events at night and down by the pool, etc. I’ve been asked to do her usual job, selling raffle tickets the night of the awards dinner. That will be fun. Get to see everyone, hand out prizes, etc. I can’t screw that job up too badly, I hope.

Helen has already bought a few things as prizes. She told me the latest news, most of which I had heard from talking to Kay in Columbus. Kay talks with Lois, Brooke’s mother, widow of a judge. Betty T. has lung cancer, smoked all her nearly 80 or 80 plus years. “She’s not going to make it.” Marsha O. has 4th stage Ovarian Cancer, taking chemo. Jean died. Phil’s wife had her gallbladder out in Dec. etc.

Helen looks around her condo, Jim, her husband, another retired Judge from MA,. is out golfing?, and said, “I’ve got to clean out some of this stuff.” We both remark on how much stuff we have. If we drop dead today or tomorrow it is going to be a big job for whomever (whoever?) is left. Helen is 75, Jim 77. I’m not too far behind, almost 67, but a youngster around here. Skip 80, Jack S turning 80 in April, etc.

All in all Sun Rise Cove Tennis and Yacht Club is about the same with some changes. PS There really aren’t any yachts. Maybe one down the end of the bulkhead, piers. One sailboat that goes out once a season. Pretty good sized, but immobile. The other slips are filled with whalers for the guys that like to fish out in Sarasota Bay.

A lot of the condo owners only live here Oct. - May. A few year rounders. About 140 condos in four, five story buildings. We are in the second building, first floor. We’re two buildings away from the two tennis courts -sandy courts, easy on the knees. No shin splints from hard courts here. The ball bounces differently than on clay, not good to fall on. I skinned a knee pretty badly one year. Mostly easy care though., no brushing. Once a week grooming.

We’re a couple of buildings from the large swimming pool and the small swimming pool. We are right on the bay. So the sun rises over the inland water way in the a.m. and sets over the Gulf in the evening. We are in a very narrow section of Siesta Key at the far Southern end across from Turtle Beach. We are gone by the time the turtles come out of the water to lay their eggs on the beach. Good swimming in the Gulf, but not today. The water is about 55 degrees due to the cold weather. However, I’m told the swimming pool is heated to 85! Getting in - no problem. Getting out into the North West wind is a bit trickier if you don’t have a Big, Warm Towel nearby.

Gotta go. Off to see what birds are around the Celery Fields east of I75, Fruitville Road. This a.m. I saw the parakeets by the tennis court. Everyone told me it was the first time they had seen them this year. About 20 of them. Used to be Monk Parakeets, then the Black headed came. I didn’t have binos with me so I couldn’t see them well enough to tell what kind they were, but it’s fun to hear their noisy screeches while flying around in flocks. More bird reports later. Oh, I found out that WWElvis is, maybe, not an Elvis impersonator. He may be a fan, that’s all. My mission, from Helen Q. is to find out more about him. I now know is real name, Paul D. He lives four floors about us. Stayed tuned. FAN.

Florida Update on Day One Plus One

The Temperature was not 68 degrees today. It was more in the 50's the weatherman told me early this evening. The sun felt good. We didn't get out to pick grapefruit. Too much unpacking to do. The predicted weather looks good. Maybe a couple more days of 50's, swinging into the 60's and then -Ta Da!- 70's beginning this weekend. Perfect! Down into the 40's/50's at night. Not bad.

The tourists on Siesta Key beach are not amused, says the newscaster. The lifeguard at Crescent Beach is tired of scraping frost off his windshield each morning before he drives to the beach for a day of lifeguarding. No one is in the water.

A bare-chested, barrel-chested older man was interviewed by a local, native Floridian. When asked if he was going into the water he replied, "I'm not crazy, I'm just nuts." He wants to go home with a tan, so he's not wearing a shirt. He's determined to get some color before his vacation ends, he says. Another woman from Norway was on the beach with her husband and kids. It looked like the kids could care less about the temperature. They were having fun, but their mother hoped for more-warm weather, hot sun.

There was the chimp attack on a volunteer at a Primate Sanctuary some where around here. The volunteer took full responsibility for not following protocol, appeared on TV with her bites and scratches, wrapped in bandages. The Chimps are O.K. The volunteer is going to heal and return to volunteer. Happy ending.

Then, the report of the fellow who was put to death by the State of Florida tonight. He murdered a woman, a wildlife refuge officer, about 25 years ago. Just before he was killed by lethal injection he made a statement to the woman's family. He said he was sorry for what happened, even though he couldn't remember all of what happened. This was the first time he had showed any remorse the TV reporter said. Although, The Pope tried to intervene, saying the man sought redemption, had found God, etc. It was reported he beat the woman many times with a flashlight, took her gun and shot her, execution-style. She was in her twenties and in the wrong place at the wrong time without backup, I guess. Tragic all around.

Enough of this. You readers can read all this elsewhere. Time to reduce the e-mails from 750 to ?

And, begin to read Canadian Meds by John Moynihan and Pals by Carl Ring, among other selections.

Reviews to follow, if I can just make time to do a little reading. :-) FAN, signing OFF.

Florida -Day one, plus one

Here we are without a thermometer. However, our friend, Ute, tells me by phone that it is 68 degrees in her back yard on the mainland. The locals, of which Ute is one in the "Winter," find this cold and I understand. It isn't bathing suit weather because of the wind out of the North West.

For me. This blog is mostly about me. Have you noticed? I'm trying to suppress my ego, but I'm not having a lot of luck. Anyhow I love this weather. I'm wearing sandals, flannel-lined black pants, a blouse and a fleece. Perfect! It's even too warm in the car with the windows rolled up. I can wait a few days to get into the pool or the Gulf. What's the Rush?

When we pulled into the parking slot for #115, the same condo we have rented for the last two or three years, I felt, as I often do, as if we had never left last April. Everything is much the same with a few differences.

Skip and I took a cart and unloaded the 25 bags, at my count. I think Skip's count was higher. I was able to catch a glimpse of the Elvis impersonator who parks his Bright Red Corvette in the slot next to ours in the car park. Last night the fellow who exited the Corvette looked shorter and darker than the fellow I'm used to seeing. But, it was dark and who knows, maybe he shrunk. The guy, whose name I don't know, doesn't converse much. He has had so much cosmetic surgery he may not be able to converse much. I have spent time talking with his sister who visits him some years. She walks around the complex taking photographs of wildlife with a camera with a huge lens. She is pleasant, friendly, but did mention her brother is "different."

I've seen him, in years past, leaving for a gig, I guess, dressed like Elvis, looking something like Elvis. His licensce plate reads Elvis. Somehow he isn't too convincing, but I've never seen him in action. And, he obviously doesn't like to talk to strangers. I've tried a "Hello," but I don't get much back. I may have had a single sentence conversation with him once about the weather.

Oh, yeah, I do remember the first time he saw me pulling in next to his car under the car park roof. He made some mention about not hitting his car. Well, you can imagine I wouldn't intentionally hit his, obviously, expensive car. It is very beautiful. Makes a great rumble when he drives in and out. I can tell he is really proud of it or attached to it, so I'm very careful not to hit his car. I suppose he thought he couldn't be too sure of what someone he'd never seen before might do, so he said whatever he said about not hitting his car.

He's a little menacing. Very tall. Big guy, not smilely, not friendly. A "different" sort of guy. Maybe this year he'll friendly up to me, a little. I'd love to know how he became an Elvis impersonator, how he remains one, etc. A photo op would be great too.

Gotta Go. Off to pick grapefruit and oranges right off the trees that belong to a friend's mother. I'm told she has lots and lots of fruit this year and we are happy to help her pick it and eat it.

There is always a lot going on here at Sun Rise Cove. I'm sure I'll have lots to report before long.

Could be a tough choice tonight on the telly. Dog show at Madison Square Garden versus the Olympics. Going for the Dog Show. The Olympics get repeated after midnight. At least they did last night.

FAN signing off, for now.

Arrived

We made it to Siesta Key tonight around 7:00 p.m. Great time on Skidaway Island over the weekend. Now to relax. AAAhhhh. FAN

Going South

We are safely in Williamsburg, Va., where we have been since Tuesday, around 8:30 p.m. We left The Crescent, officially, at 12:07 p.m. on Tuesday, stopped for gas on Bloomfield Ave and got onto the GSParkway, then to the NJ Turnpike. We skipped going to Cape May, NJ when we found out the Hotel we were planning to stay in had no heat, only partial electric and the Ferry from Cape May to Delaware was not running.
Interesting drive on the Turnpike. A BEAUTIFUL Bright Yellow Ferrari, followed by a Bright Yellow Dodge Ram truck passed us, at some point. I followed them down the pike. Got to hear the Ferrari as it passed, kept up with them, a respectable distance behind them - didn't want to rear end a Bright Yellow Ram or be involved in an accident with a Ferrari. There isn't enough money in the Insurance Co. pot to cover those costs. Well, I'm sure there is, but I'd hate to be in an accident with a Ferrari.
Anyway I was able to pass the Ferrari and the Dodge Ram when they pulled into the far Right lane to exit to Trenton. Couldn't see the driver, tinted windows.
Next, Four men in Black Robes at the Service Area off the NJ Turnpike. One wearing a Huge Silver cross around his neck. Another wearing a Black, what looked like, lamb's wool hat. Russian Orthodox, the fellow told me when I asked. Couldn't get a photo.
Then Two very plump Nuns in Two-toned, God-awful Blue habits going in and out of the Ladies Room. Another missed photo OP.
The rain was very heavy after dark on Tuesday, between, say, 5-8:30. as we drove down Route 13, some of which was not plowed too well. The rain washed away some of the old snow. Crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel in the dark, no birds. We were on Route 64 from Norfolk to Williamsburg in driving rain with the defroster not working well. Quite an experience, but not a lot of traffic. The rain began to turn to snow, sleet, hail as we blundered into Williamsburg.
I immediately took a turn into the Visitor Center Parking area where we drove around for a few miles looking for our destination. Found a Security cop idling in a vacant parking lot who escorted us to the Williamsburg Lodge, our destination. The signage has always been a problem in our travels to Williamsburg. We have, many times, gotten onto the Colonial Parkway and found two signs, one to Jamestown and one to Yorktown. Not all that helpful if you are, as we were, looking for Williamsburg.
However, despite their best efforts - the Colonial Williamsburg powers that be who design the signage, not-we were able to get to our destination ahead of the snow storm.
We have been happily ensconced here at Williamsburg ever since. Our only problem, which isn't that big a problem, is the New York Times did not get to Williamsburg yesterday. We heard that Amtrak wasn't running and we also heard about the crash on Route 64, the Route we drove from Norfolk.
We were on Route 64 Tuesday night. The Crash occurred on Wednesday a.m. around 10 a.m. 50 cars and trucks. Only minor injuries, luckily.
So we are fine and we hope you are. We have a few inches of snow on the ground here, bright sunshine, in the 30's. The wind that was so prominent yesterday has subsided. Looking forward to another visit to the Abby Rockefeller Folk Art Museum today and Bassett Hall. Checked off Carolina chickadee on the bird list. Seeing juncos and yellow-rumped warblers foraging on the ground here. Nice Red-Tail resident around.

More Later. FAN.

More about the Montclair Golf Club "Ladies"

   There are a number of women at the MGC that I like and admire, Janice Benton, comes to mind immediately. Rita Berkowitz, who I don't really know, but I spent a New Year's Eve with her and I was fascinated by the Turban she wears. I'd like to get to know her better, but that seems unlikely. Karen, a friend we had in common, has moved to Savannah, where we'll be visiting shortly.

       If I think about women who have been kind to me?  That would include Sue Lotz, Ellen Smith, Mary Jane O'Hare, Sigi Lindo, Karen Lindholm, Linda Sterling, M.T. O'Neill, Alex Mulderry, Gail Baird, Betsy Berra, Jane Berra, Penny Boorman, Terri Breen, Connie Duhamel, there are others, whose names I've forgotten.

     My second year playing paddle tennis, I got talked into being Captain of the lowly E Team by the Pro who has since left. It was hardly a team. There never were enough players. A real challenge. However, by making what seemed like hundreds of phone calls, I  amassed enough players who knew what they were doing to win our series that year, or whatever it was called and we moved up to another series.  Something, I'm told, that hadn't happened in a number of years.  Looking back, I now understand why.  Moving up, of course, being what a lot of people there were very interested in doing, Paddle wise and Socially, but it seemed to me there was a bit of team spirit missing. 

     So many women wanted to win. They were very competitive, but they didn't want to subjugate their ego to do so.  It made it difficult. Not much team spirit.  I remember one women whose only concern was to continue playing a lead position, whether she had the ability to play a lead position or not. The Pros really had their hands full. Their job depended on the Members liking them, but the Members also wanted to be on a winning team. They, the members, didn't want to be repositioned, they wanted to continue playing in whatever spot they had become accustomed to playing in .They wanted to win, but they might not really be an asset to a particular team, yet they wanted to win. That presented a dilemma for the Pros.

     The Pros didn't have the wherewithall to simply have try outs. Establish a ladder.  Let women compete for the best spots. The better player, plays the better spot.  Oh, that was too simple and too scary for all those women who were entrenched in "their spots."

     The A team had to have decent players and the A team players had been on the A team for a long time.  When a new member came along who could have and should have been playing on the A team, the Pros had a problem.  They couldn't upset the status quo. Someone had to break a leg or go out injured before the new person could get put into the game.

     The B, C, D and E teams were much more of a mess because those players didn't compete against other A teams, but B, C, D, and E teams from other clubs in other series and some other designation I can't remember now.  It took a computer, I'm sure to figure out the Paddle Tennis Season of games between all the competing clubs in all the different series, divisions, levels of teams, etc. If the B team had played against the A team they would have lost every game. Some of the women on the A teams won State and National Championships and they made it look so easy.

       The teams and the players on the B, C, D, and E teams had varying levels of playing ability and they all wanted to be, of course the #1 player on the nearest to the A team they could be.  There were a lot of good players who were not pushy, who didn't get to play up to their abilities. And there were a lot of soso players who, because of seniority or pull or a loud voice got to play above their abilities.  Sometimes it was subtle, sometimes not so subtle.

     So moving up from the E team to the D, to the C, to the B was like moving up in Society, but the small, cloistered Society of the MGC. I wonder if the new pros, there have been two sets since I played, ever established a Ladder, a roster where the best players are on the A team, due to their ability and the B players play not as well as the A team, and C team, etc. I'll have to ask the new Pro.  Nice guy.  They are all nice guys. They have to be nice to the Members.  Who knows what they say when the Members aren't around.

     Actually, hanging out with the Pros the day before the matches as Captain of the E Team, after practice, trying to figure out who to put in what slot, I got to hear a little of what the Pros did say about some of the Members.  Pretty funny!

     Perhaps what makes me remember the "Ladies" of the MGC and not think of them, overall, fondly, is, the women who weren't nice to me were so mean and horrible and hateful to me they made a much bigger impression than the women who were "nice" to me.

     I can say that of all the women at the MGC I have been invited to only one woman's house.  Karen. She is the wife of the former Mayor of Montclair who Skip worked with during his 25 year stint as Chairman of the Planning Board. All before my time. For some reason she took a liking to me and I to her, even though we can NEVER talk about politics.  She gets too upset if I say something negative about a Republican or something positive about a Democrat, kinda thing.

       Well, I/we did get invited to an elaborate cocktail party at a huge house on Upper Mountain Ave, when I first arrived in Montclair and first started playing/learning to play Paddle Tennis.  Everyone in Tuxedos before the annual Anniversary Ball, sort of thing.  We went, saw a couple of women I knew who were also learning to play Paddle, but I was never invited back. Nor did I invite any of the "Ladies" except one, Karen and her husband, to our place. Karen was amused. We like to laugh together.

       I could tell right away that our two bedroom apartment on the second floor in the Central Business District, where we can walk to everything including the YMCA, the Movies, Library and now even a Starbucks, without a dining room, might not be on the party circuit that these women frequented.

     I'll always remember a certain woman, who will remain nameless, unless you ask me off-line, who often played #1 on the E Team.  She had been an Investment Banker and her husband had retired at age 40 with approximately 40 million dollars, (that was the rumour) I happened to be having dinner with Skip at the MGC the night they threw a huge party to celebrate his "retirement."  They were in a private room off the dining room, but making, I thought, quite a lot of noise, so we asked what was going on and someone told us.

     It was my practice to call each woman the night before the weekly match and tell them what position they were playing, make sure they knew what Club we were playing against, etc.  I had trouble reaching this woman, had left messages at her home, on her cell, etc.  As I was walking my dog, old Shebarita, outside our apartment, She, the nameless woman, drove up in her powder blue Mercedes SUV.  She looked us over, Sheba Deba and me and burst out laughing.  I guess it was just too much for her to see where we lived or how I was dressed or the fact that Sheba was a "mixed Breed" not pure bred, or whateveritwas, she simply laughed right AT me, took in the information I gave her and drove off at speed.

     Now you might think I'm reading something into her behavior or I'm mistaken and she wasn't really laughing AT me. But this is the woman that I played against in practice.  She would simply hit the ball straight at me as hard as she could whenever she got the chance.  "That's O.K. Angel," I would say, "It's good practice for me to fend off, be ready, alert.  Keep 'em coming"  The Pro looked at me when I said it, smiled and we went back to practicing.

     She is also the woman I played with on the MGC tennis team, can't remember what team that was.  It wasn't the A or B team, I'm sure of that.  Anyhow I was playing with a woman whose name escapes me.  We had nearly won our match at the Far Hills or Short Hills or Some, very pretty, but forgetable Club. One of the women we were playing against had lost one of her Diamond ear rings just before the match, or misplaced one, and she was distracted, so we almost won our match, but didn't. We didn't care. We had fun.  However as we walked off the court in our white, white tennis clothes, over the grass, on a lovely, sunny, Spring day, we were met by, Nameless.  "Did you Win?" she asked. She turned her back on us and walked away when we told her no.    

     Or the day Sheba had a stroke a short time before I was due at practice.  I took her to the Vet, got some advice and some medicine.  Got Sheba settled at home and raced to Paddle Practice. As I walked on to the court I said to, "Nameless" and another woman who never spoke directly to me, "I'm sorry I'm late. My dog had a stroke."  The two women, one of whom had dogs of her own that she brought to the Club with her and left in her car during practice, looked at me, said nothing, and we preceded to practice for the match the next day. Do these women have ice in their veins?

     Something about that encounter made me realize that these were not your average friendly, "nice" people.  These were women who were looking out for Number One and if you didn't have something they wanted or something they could take from you they were not interested in you, your dog, or much of anything, as long as the E team won.

     When we did win our series one of the women bought a card, most team members signed it. I have it someplace. They gave me a gift certificate to Barnes and Noble, if I remember correctly.  I took the gift certificate and bought myself a copy of Sibley's book about birds.  When the Tennis Team or the Paddle Tennis Team I used to play on plays their matches on Wednesdays, in the Spring I'm leading a Warbler Walk up at Garret for the Montclair Bird Club, in the Fall and Winter I'm not even thinking about the Ladies Paddle Team.

     There were a number of women who returned by phone calls, women I'd never met, who graciously filled in on the E team and were fun to play with.  There were a number of women or a couple who became my "best friend" on the Paddle team, who wanted to play and play in the spots they were used to playing in, etc. I got phone calls night after night at home. I heard the MGC gossip, what I could follow of it.  I knew only a couple of people socially and couldn't follow who was related to who, who was getting married, divorced, cheating on their spouses.  I needed a play card, as "they" say, and I didn't have one, to know the players.  A card with a little bio attached.  All the gossip detracted from the Paddle team, I thought.  It was good that I didn't know who was friendly with whom.  I just concentrated on who could play Paddle and who couldn't and with the help of the two Pros we decided each week who was going to play where on the team.

       So, those few women were very friendly to me while I was Captain.  I don't think I have heard from them since and that was nearly ten years ago. I can't say that I have ever had much social contact with any of the women at the MGC, other than Karen and Penny, wives of Skip's friends, but it could be, as my mother always used to say, "For the Best, Dear."

Racism and LT. Gov. Andre Bauer of S.C.

In response to an email/rant from a friend. His message first, my response:

    .......I guess my rant/rave this week is about the comment Lt. Gov. Andre Bauer of South Carolina, who compared the poor to animals. This man is running for Gov. What he said needs to be quoted:

 "My grand mother was not a highly educated woman but she told me as a small child to quit feeding stray animals. You know why? Because they breed. You're facilitating the problem if you give an animal or person ample food supply. They will reproduce, especially ones that don't think too much further than that, And so what you've got to do is you've got to curtail that type of behavior. They don't know any better." 

Now what bothers me is that he obviously thinks this will bolster his candidacy. It is significant that South Carolina is one of the poorest states and I would speculate that there are many poor whites. Further, I think an African American President has surfaced (suffered?) racisim, the most classical denial of mankind. President Carter was right, a lifetime southerner who said there are many who don't believe an African American can be/should be the President of the United States of America. He was virtually lambasted for such a statement........Norma, you asked for it  and I have ranted and raved. 

I hear you and I agree.  What an outrage this guy is!  Let's hope the majority of people have evolved past the awful racism and hatred that existed back in the 50's and, of course, further back.

     It would be nice to think that we as a country have progressed socially and morally, but you and I know that there is still a lot, or a substantial segment of the population, that is not progressing.  They are stuck in a world of hatred which stems from fear and ignorance. People who have closed their minds and hearts to their fellow man and woman.

     Often the people who are the most bigoted and the loudest and the most hateful can't or won't listen to reason.  They are too afraid, under it all, to be open and affirming, so scared and protective of what they think is theirs that they can't listen, learn from others and open their hearts and minds to be compassionate and loving toward themselves and others.

     All we can do about them is to hope and pray they have an experience or some event in their life that opens their mind or their heart or both and changes them for the better.  In the meantime we have each other.  We can support what we know is morally correct.  What we know is the law.  We can support diversity. We can love our fellow man and woman no matter what the color of their skin, no matter what religion they believe or don't believe in, no matter what is their sexual preference, their sex, age, race, religion, etc.  Have I covered it all???

     Glad to hear your rant.  Rant on. Rave on.  Especially if it makes you feel better and it helps you to say what you think, feel what you feel and communicate it to others.  Yeah!!!  That's what I do on the blog I just started.  Perhaps I'll put some of this on the blog, minus your name, of course.

     Two weeks from today Skip and I will be in Sarasota, if all goes as planned.  Skip is well, working away, as usual.  Attending to last minute things at work.  He is executor of an estate that has a lot of details to attend to before we leave.

     So, glad to hear from you.  Glad to listen to you rave and/or rant.  I'll try to pay attention to what goes on in the Carolinas.  I'm afraid I have been paying attention to the Vineyard and now New Jersey, but haven't had time to follow the news much.

     See you soon.   Keep the sun shining in Florida.

Great! A couple of comments. That's a start. Thanks!

Good Point!  No Posts.  No comments.  Okay. How do Lurkers find a blog?  You ask?  I have no idea, but perhaps someone else does.  Below is my post for today.  Some of you will notice you received this message on New Year's Day.  Other blog-readers may have never seen it, obviously.

Today is, as you may know, February 1st.  I hope all of you who remembered said, "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit." For those of you who do not know why anyone would say, "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit," on the first day of the month, year, decade, READ ON.  My apologies to those of you who are receiving this a second time.  However, if you weren't able to remember to say "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit," the first words out of your mouth this a.m., it may not hurt to read this New Year's Day message again.  Good Luck!

Good Morning Everybody,

     Happy New Year, 2010!  It's a bright, sunny day here on Martha's Vineyard. In Edgartown at the Katama Roadhouse the outside thermometer registers 40 degrees at 9:00 a.m. My new digital, bathroom, scale registered 110.2 pounds, bare naked.

     Sitting here at the divider-dividing the kitchen from the Great New Room, I can't see the birds eating at their outdoor dining table, AKA the rotting picnic table patched with a large piece of plywood on which I've spread lots of bird seed.

     Today I put up a suet feeder for the woodpeckers.  Hope they come to it. I'm going to put out the goldfinch feeder which holds Niger seed and another Yankee Droll feeder, one with a seed-catching plate, to augment the lone feeder the chickadees love and share with the "English" sparrows and house finches.

     It's just as well that I'm not at my dining room table with binoculars watching and identifying the birds. When I walked over to get something off the table a minute ago, the crows, always so jumpy, flew off.  I spoiled their good time eating.

     So maybe it's best that I feed them, watch them a bit, and leave them to feed without my watchful eyes.  Who does want someone to watch them eat, anyhow?

     When I woke up this morning I repeated the phase taught to me by Christopher Riley, otherwise known to me as Chris, years ago, who became Topher later on. Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit.    

     In my twenties Chris told me the legend. I don't know who told him or where it came from.  You must say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit as the first words you speak in the morning on the first day of the month.  It will bring you Good Luck for the whole month.

     It was very difficult for me to remember to do that in my twenties and thirties, forties and fifties and still harder to do.  Sleeping alone made it easier.  No one to talk to or answer to when I awoke, but still, trying to remember to say those words, before answering the phone or groaning awake, groggy with not enough sleep or a head full of dreams, was difficult.

     Before I went to sleep on the last day of the month I would sometimes remember what I needed to do when I woke up the next day, but when I awoke I would have forgotten and I was destined to have Bad Luck, or at least that was the way I interpreted the legend, for a whole month until I had the opportunity to try again.

     Months went by without me being able to simply wake up on the first of the month, say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit as my first words and go about waiting for the Good Luck to come to me all through the upcoming month.

     On occasion, very few occasions, I did wake up, say "Oh" or something like that, try to discount that I had said anything and loudly repeat "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit."  I knew in my heart of hearts I was cheating, but I was desperate to have some Good Luck, especially in my twenties.  Those years I remember as turbulent.  Some happy times, but some not so happy times too.  I needed Good Luck and I wanted Good Luck every month, all the time.

     I don't remember when I finally got it right the first time.  I do remember being so shy and embarrassed about my need to have Good Luck and my preposterous belief or was it a superstition? (I didn't want to think of myself as superstitious or have someone else think of me as superstitious). I do remember being so shy and embarrassed about my need to have Good Luck that if I were sleeping next to someone when I woke up  and I remembered to say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit, I would mouth the words so my bed fellow couldn't hear or see me repeating Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit, instead of speaking those words out loud.

     This tact of mouthing the words, silently saying "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit" gave me fits.  I asked Christopher to tell me what the rule was.  Did I have to say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit out loud?  I knew those words had to be the first words out of my mouth, but did I have to say them out loud? " Yes," he told me.  You have to say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit out loud and they have to be the first words that you say when you wake up.  Then you get Good Luck.  There is No way around those rules.

     So.  I let the practice slide for a few years.  Trying rather haphazardly, when I remembered, to say the words and wait for the Good Luck I was sure, well, not really sure, I was hoping, would come.  Thinking myself "stupid" ( I always thought of myself as stupid, pretty much, anyway.  It had been ingrained in me to believe that about myself someplace way back in my childhood, I suppose) and being "fearful" (I was afraid of almost everything too, but I didn't let that stop me from doing, some, things). Thinking myself "stupid" and fearful that I was becoming superstitious (no intelligent person is superstitious, I thought, and I wanted to be thought of as intelligent, even though I was pretty sure I wasn't) I kept this "secret" under wraps.

     (I was very happy to read, while attending Art classes at UMB, about how superstitious Pablo Picasso was. He was hero of mine, an intelligent guy, certainly, and quite an artist.  If he could be as great an artist as he was, and the whole world or, almost, the whole art world, considered him a great artist.  If he could be as great an artist as he was and be superstitious there might be hope for me, an aspiring artist and perhaps someone who is, or was, superstitious.) But I digress.

     As I said, I kept this secret under wraps. It wasn't a secret among some of my friends, for instance, Christopher, Ruth and a couple of other people I told along the way.  Over the years, since my twenties, I am now in my sixties, I told more and more people.  I always told people that a friend had told me about this and I didn't really believe it, etc., but it was a fun thing to try and do.  A challenge.     

     I always liked a challenge, especially if there was some hope that I could perform. Do it.  Performing spectacularly was what I always yearned to do, but for this particular challenge I simply wanted to be able to, Just Do it!

     Many years have passed.  I've learned to meditate, focus my thoughts, let a lot of the "chatter" in my mind take a hike while I'm concentrating on my breath and other good, positive thoughts. Listening to messages, really, from the interior. Every once in a while, and more frequently, the more I meditate, I hear my inner voice of wisdom that directs me today, rather than the outer voices of friends, family, advertisers and the general public that try to direct me away from my own true path.

     So, this morning, January 1, 2010, I woke up, lay in bed remembering my dreams which I had intended to write down, but instead I'm writing this. Turned over. Looked at the clock, 9:02 a.m. Wow!  I almost got 8 hours sleep.

     And, I said Out Loud so no one could hear me, because No One was in the Katama Roadhouse but me. (I)  "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!  Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!  Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!"

     I have a thing for threes and I wanted to be sure.  Repeating something three times, I thought, would really reinforce the strength of my speech.

     Hooray!  I am going to, or I hope I am going to, have Good Luck for the whole month of January.

     But, there is an added bonus here.  If you/I say Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit on the first day of the month and it happens to be the first day of the New Year you/I will get, I hope, Good Luck for the whole year!

A fellow writer, (I love saying that, a fellow writer :-)) reminded me, when I read this to the Writer's Group at Howes House in West Tisbury in Janauary, that 1/1/10 is also the beginning of the next decade.  WOW!  Who knew?  Ten more years of Good Luck.  If I were religious, which I am definately not, I might think I'd been blessed.

     Welcome 2010.  I hope it's a year full of Good Luck.

Love and Best Wishes to All of you for Good Luck in 2010 and the coming years,

Frieda Artz Now  (FAN)