Tag: politicians

Peace in Purpose Meets Peace Love and Rock and Roll

“Humans need something to do, someone to love and something to hope for…” recipe for happiness.

I had the most amazing dream the other night. I dreamed everyone was nice to one another. People were having conversations without an anger. I saw smiling and waves as I walked the streets and a part of me said, this is a dream, I’m sure of it.

Then I remembered that in another time and place it was real. There was talk and no yelling. Peace love and rock and roll. Flowers and rainbows. Conversation and no arguing, disagreements in a pleasant manner and people being okay with someone that disagreed with them.

Upon awakening I realized it hadn’t been so much a dream as a memory.

A time when life was quiet and comfortable. I needed to understand why.

So I thought long and hard about what might have happened to change people.

To turn friend against friend, family against family and humans into uncompromising and angry beings.

It took some time, but not all that much once I realized a universal truth.

Happy people don’t lash out.

Being fulfilled creates a peaceful spirit and feeling safe allows for acceptance.

Yet there is so much anger, volatility, resentment and negativity it has literally drown out all the good emotions.

I know Baby Boomers are often accused of sugar coating the past. The back-in-my-day rhetoric is a source of amusement for those unable to relate.

I understand that if one has never experienced an emotion or experience it’s impossible to comprehend.

So I can’t help but have sympathy for generations that can’t remember a time when kindness was the law of the land. When respect for yourself and others ruled the day, and good works and personal achievement were noble goals.

What can be done to return the human race to its former state as human beings?

I’ve given this a great deal of thought. Not because I was elected to office to do so, but because I want to leave my grandchildren a better world.

Politicians are the last people on earth to want to make the world better. Watch their campaign ads and it’s obvious hatred is good for business and they lean into it with all their might.

Politics has become a terminal illness for which there is no cure. The need to blame and vilify has been raised to an art form and people are the victims of this sick and corrupt mentality.

If anyone is offended by my feelings toward politicians, good.

But they are only one part of the problem. There are other reasons for this sudden inability to show anyone grace any longer.

Sadly I must resort to a trite and over simplified cliché, “hurt people hurt people.”

Yes I know, but actually let’s face it, they are overused for a reason, they fit.

Back in prehistoric times when I was growing up, there was a certain vibe in the air. Not loud, but quiet and hovering, like a fluffy white cloud on a perfect summer day.

It was that feeling of acceptance. A certain knowledge that allowed for contentment.

The formula for happiness has never changed. It’s simple and despite the changing times remains a constant.

Humans need something to do, someone to love and something to hope for.

There is peace in purpose. Knowing what is expected of us and others creates a timeline to follow and a path to walk. Life isn’t as fraught with danger when we simply have to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. Belief in the future, despite our inability to actually foresee destiny, dispels uncertainty.

Do our plans always turn out as we envision? Of course not, but usually better things than we’ve planned crop up in their stead. Thus the whole go-with-the-flow mentality is positive and healing.

People with a purpose aren’t bored or unsettled. Okay, to be trite once more, idle hands are the devil’s workshop.

Baby Boomers had a sense of destiny. We grew up in times when hostilities had ended and new life was beginning. Professions and businesses were in their infancy and everyone had a role to play in this new vision for America.

The war had changed everyone and it was now a chance to rebuild the world through hard work and big dreams.

Sure I sound pollyannaish. I get that, but it was calm and safe. There wasn’t constant fear or unrest, but a sameness about each day that was comforting and tranquil. The unrest came later.

There was love and respect for our parents, teachers and one another.  We knew right from wrong and understood the meaning of accountability for straying.

I get that it may sound like we were Stepford children, but it was the opposite. Our teachers gave us the facts we needed to think for ourselves and make our own decisions. I imagine that’s what lead to the peace movement in the sixties.

Baby Boomers had all the ingredients necessary to be happy. Purpose, love and hope for a future we could build.

Still, nothing is perfect. There were glitches along the way for sure.  We were in many ways pampered, spoiled and our parents wanted us to have great lives. Maybe at times there was an over-abundance of all this love. It did however give us a sense of social compassion for those who needed more than what we were so lucky to have had.

The sixties were turbulent times for our generation. War, civil rights, and assassination. As Bob Dylan wrote, The Times They Are A-Changin’.

We felt unsettled, uncertain and unhappy. Too many succumbed, many overcame.  We ultimately plowed through the winds of change with new strength and respect for what we could achieve.

So what went wrong with us and when?

It’s obvious when you hear new generations crying out against work, confused about love, because they are lacking it for themselves, and deriding any hope for the future, unhappiness is inevitable.

All the ingredients necessary to forge a contented human have been cast out in favor of anger and hatred.

Replacing love and purpose with rage and futility is not a formula for a positive outcome.

So what can be done to cure this illness of anger permeating our society?

Could it be so simple as a return to the basics, love purpose and hope? I say yes.

Children must be taught there is nobility in work, there is love in each of us and there is a future if we build it together. It’s the easiest math I’ve ever done. Three simple parts added to create a happy and healthy whole.

Good and evil are movable concepts. They spread and encompass areas dropping specks of emotions on all nearby. No one can deny a bad aura can cover up a good one in no time. Simplistic? Perhaps, or maybe not.

What must we do to begin anew? It’s up to those who remember to pass along those good vibrations to anyone who will listen. And most importantly actually live that peace, love and rock and roll. Then rinse and repeat until we wash away the bad.

The Tragedy of CA Fires Seen Through the Eyes of an Old Broad

Our lives are fraught with emotions. Each day we experience a cornucopia of feelings as we trudge along the path.

Yet there are times when we must admit to ourselves these emotions actually exhaust and deplete us, both emotionally and physically.

When we are spent from a mind and body overload of constant barrages of emotional bullets hitting their target.

The Los Angeles fires were just such an emotional roller coaster of exhausting proportions.

There are those that would say any natural disaster would feel the same. Watching the recent floods after Hurricane Helene was tragic and beyond belief. Seeing devastation and total loss tears into one’s soul like only a knife dipped in reality can cut. The chemical disaster in East Palestine, Ohio brought fear and anguish for those afflicted and their prospects of further dangers.

War, floods, earthquakes, tornados and all the frightening sights we as humans witness and experience each day, deliver a clear message that we are powerless against the forces of nature. This is a knowledge mankind has never responded to well.

So we attempt to shore up our chances of survival by building guards against these events, and as we have seen we fail miserably with many attempts.

Oh sure we can put shutters on homes to avoid the winds of hurricane force. But there is no defense against the power of rushing waters the ocean can deliver to our doorstep.

We can try, but we fail. Not often because there aren’t ways to avoid some of the harm or disasters, but because we depend on others that are incompetent to make decisions that will stand between us and safety.

The Los Angeles fires are a perfect example of nature enjoying an easy conquest because our generals lead us blindly and unarmed into battle.

Last year there was so much rain in Los Angeles I was waiting for Noah to return and build an ark.

This is of course a rare occurrence. One that should be embraced fully as an opportunity to collect and store much needed water to use at a later date.

This fire was no surprise. One can count on the Santa Ana winds coming every year as much as a five-year-old counts on Santa to deliver his presents.

A nationwide report in 2024 by researchers with the Pacific Institute,” ranks California ninth among states with the most estimated urban runoff. Rainwater flows off streets and yards into storm drains that eventually empty into waterways and the ocean — carrying pollutants picked up along the way.” 

According to reports, the last major reservoir built in California was New Melones Lake in Calaveras and Tuolumne counties in 1979.

That seems a long time to go between adding new sources of water to a state that grows increasingly more arid each year.

So where was the water? And why wasn’t anyone responsible for ensuring there was enough?

There is a sea of blame to go around for these fires. And like most other issues that will make bureaucrats look bad, the truth will be covered up and shifted onto those with less power.  If I sound cynical it’s the investigative reporter in me unleashing my frustration and mounting up to do battle. Yet the simple truth is like President Harry Truman said, “the buck stops here.”

Gavin Newsom is responsible for running an incredibly hypocritical so-called environmental state. They run around beating their chests about how they care about nature even as beaches are being closed because of the raw sewage on the sand where children walk and play. Or as surfers become ill from fecal matter piped into the ocean.

It’s a joke to anyone who understands how tragic ego-driven madmen and women can be.

Watching the fires I listened intently for the sounds of the clip clop of the Four Horseman galloping down the street.

The movie visuals of end-of-world scenarios were suddenly happening in full technicolor. Including all the smells and sounds to convince one of the impending Apocalypse.

Natural disasters are an act of nature. Man cannot avoid these battles, and of course we understand well that the odds are with the house here. Mother Nature’s house. Yet with intelligence and some prevention lives can be spared.

If that weren’t the case why would the state retrofit buildings against earthquake damage? Why would the army engineers build dams in New Orleans or cities salt the roads in huge snowstorms.

No one is saying the Santa Ana winds could have curbed.

Yet, couldn’t they have been anticipated. One hundred per cent, yes. Could the brush and dead twigs that acted as tinder for the fire been cut away after all the growth from last year’s rain? Absolutely.

Is anyone with half a brain aware that after these fires rain will threaten burned-out areas and create mudslide dangers for most homeowners in the burn belts?

Absolutely.

As someone from the Midwest where we “cotton to” common sense solutions, it has been increasingly difficult to understand how the minds of Californians operate. I am not speaking from a political point of view, just a midwestern belief in solving problems with good old down-home know how. It’s as if I’ve entered a foreign land and cannot speak the language.

Yet at the end of the day I may not understand what they are saying or doing, but the repercussions of their flawed thinking are felt by all.

The fires were a tragedy of apocalyptic proportion. Everyone is involved whether their house burned or not. We all experienced the emotional toll of watching and worrying for loved ones and friends whose homes were threatened or ultimately succumbed.

Yes, there are unbelievable amounts of donations to help the victims. But perhaps we should have all donated to some common sense votes last election.

Sadly, there are still many who will give these inept politicians a pass for their egregious policies. Actions that caused more harm than would have happened if they weren’t so busy with their own selfish agendas.

As always, it’s the innocent who suffer. But is innocence any excuse for bad judgement and believing corrupt and uber-ambitious politicians?

I guess that will be determined in upcoming elections.

For the good of the people of California and everywhere, I sincerely hope so.

I Have No Words

How many times have you repeated the expression, I have no words?

I seem to find myself using it more and more in so many situations. Far more than ever before.

It’s really a very versatile expression when you think of how much it covers.

It can be a compliment. After you’ve expressed every adjective in the book to describe how fabulous your grandchildren are, I have no words would cover whatever you’ve left out.

It can be used when one is surprised. “Oh you’re kidding. They ran away together. I never even thought they liked one another.”  I have no words is the perfect follow up to express your shock.

Let us not forget how perfect I have no words becomes when you are disgusted and frustrated by politicians or some outrageous act by a government official.

Sadly, it also serves to cover your sorrow when a loved one or friend is suffering.

And this is my point. I seem to have run out of words lately. I suppose at my age that might be an age-related situation, but I can’t seem to find the right language anymore to cover how I feel about all the craziness I witness each day.

I wonder, is it me, or has the world seriously gone crazy and I’m left without the proper vocabulary to define this new insanity.

If that is the case, I imagine I can’t be blamed for a lack of language to describe the indescribable.

I’d like to believe my memory is as efficient as ever, although I know that may be a bit of wishful thinking on my part, but I do find myself at a loss for words more often.

Where once when a teen I looked forward each night at six o clock to hear Goodnight Chet, Goodnight David after the Huntley-Brinkley report on NBC News, now I recoil with fear at news reports.

There is no one to take their glasses off like Cronkite anymore. His way of letting me know he is about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.

I no longer want to hear any of it. But when Cronkite said it, at least I knew it to be true.

Knowing I wanted to be a reporter at a very early age, I became a news junkie before most of my generation. When I got home from school there was very little programming to watch so I watched the McCarthy Hearings or HUAC the House Un-American Activities Committee.

Now I’m not implying that at eight years old I fully understood what was happening or what a red scare was, but I sensed the importance of what I was watching. The seriousness of the tone, the accusatory nature, the senators leaning over and whispering led me to believe there was definitely something consequential going on there.

I imagine that’s when I began to find journalism so intriguing. Reporters were in the room, they were commenting afterward on the proceedings, they had a voice. I wanted that voice.

So now that I have a voice, I can no longer find the words. They elude me at a time when it’s most important I am able to use them.

Use them to say how frightening this world has become.

How sad I am for my children and grandchildren.

How guilty I feel for my generation not doing a better job creating a better world to leave behind.

How horrified I am by the atrocities evil performs against the innocent.

How clueless and immoral politicians are while the country burns and they seek only their own selfish agendas.

How upside down life has turned until it’s almost impossible to discern right from wrong or good from evil any longer.

How truth has been relegated to someone’s own point of view, whether it’s right or wrong.

Where do I find the words to speak the horror I feel because there are no words to cover today’s world.

It would be so easy to say it’s unspeakable, but for someone who has valued language their whole life, isn’t that a cop out?

Isn’t it too easy to simply throw one’s hands up in the air and in defeat say, I have no words?

Yet in truth I have to admit words can no longer express what we are living, feeling or seeking to escape.

If we could find the words or invent new ones, would that even change the state of affairs we are distraught about now?

What can you say to someone who has twisted and turned truth into a pretzel of wickedness?

How do you communicate with someone who can’t discern good from evil?

How do you speak intelligently to the stupid?

How can you have a conversation with a zombie mind that has been brainwashed and indoctrinated to absorb insane, intolerant and hateful ideas?

This is what words have come to…a useless flow of language out of one’s mouth without meaning or substance.

A futile effort to relate to others who have been brainwashed in malevolence.

Where have the words of kindness and tolerance been buried?

How have words of compassion and love for another human being been erased?

How will the twisted brains taught by the immoral be undone?

With my voice I can now only ask questions. Questions for which I have no answers.

I still believe the world should be made up of balance.

Question, answer, that is how it’s been done up to now. What can rational good people do to get the balance back?

Has language been so corrupted and twisted good people will ultimately find it impossible to undo the perversion?

Is the planet to continue spinning out of control on an axis of hatred and wickedness?

Would that I could find the language to solve these problems. To restore hope and optimism into a beleaguered world.

Tragically, I have no words.

Hey! Boomers Exercise, Too

Hey! Boomers Exercise, Too

Someone asked the other day if I exercise at all. I indignantly responded that it depends on what type of exercise one means?

I must admit my exercise is age related. In other words, appropriate for someone in their laugh laugh, golden years to be doing.

They looked at me quizzically and I said I suppose one could say that yes, I actually get a great deal of exercise. Just not the same as one might be doing in their forties.

For example, when young you might do a series of yoga poses like cobra, lotus, downward dog, happy baby, etc. All very effective and good for the body and soul. Whereas I might do another type of yoga pose like say snoring dog, where I fall asleep on the floor while watching television with one leg up on the ottoman and the other on the floor. Good for the inner thigh muscles.

Or instead of cobra pose I might fall on my stomach and reach for my phone for an hour while I try to slither forward to retrieve it. I call that one the Apple worm slide pose. Same idea just a different name, but great for stretching.

Of course, the most exercise I get each day is moving the heating pad from one part of my body to another. You’d be shocked at how much exercise is entailed in picking up the heating pad and adjusting and shifting it into a new position. Wait, shouldn’t walking to the wall to plug it in count for something? And how about all the steps to take the heatable neck roll to the microwave? And the balance it takes to keep it around your neck?

I am very well aware of movement and I must say I get plenty each day.

First there is the number of steps to take my meds in a timely fashion. Each glass of water I ingest with my pills equals at least three trips to the bathroom. All cardio is welcome here.

I counted and most of my steps are a result of bathroom trips and I also count the ones to the bathroom during the night. I’m just not sure if the ones after midnight should count in the previous day or current day’s step total.

There is a great deal of hand exercise that goes on each day punching the phone to make doctor appointments. Keeps your fingers agile. Sometimes it might take as many as four or five calls to get through to a human being.

I am adamant that putting on spanks should be counted as weight training.  Does anyone have any idea how much muscle it takes to pull those damn things over your hips? Who needs dumbbells when you’re lifting your whole lower body weight?

I don’t discount how much energy is expelled when bringing in the grocery bags from Amazon and putting the food away. I refer to that particular exercise as the Amazon cardio/muscle building combination.

Does it count as resistance training if you stop yourself from eating a second sleeve of Oreos?

Recently I have been the recipient of comments from numerous people that my eyelids look anorexic and very wrinkled.

This is obviously the result of constantly closing them to avoid watching politicians when they appear on the news. I do also count bending and ducking their constant bullcrap whenever they speak for those newly lost inches on my waistline.

I am always working my upper torso by what I call the no-no-no workout. This entails raising my arms to tear my hair out over the crazy lies that come out of Washington. Who says politics aren’t healthy?

A great Cardio workout is easily accomplished just trying to find a salesperson in a mall. I only spend half the time traveling from store to store these days, because just walking through Macys to find some help can add up to a thousand steps.

One must not forget the health advantages to preparing meals. I mean walking to the freezer, removing the Lean Cuisine, walking it to the microwave, waiting for it to cook, placing it on a plate, opening a drawer to take out a fork and then walking into the dining room can provide all the steps you need in a day. I’m tired just thinking of it.

I’m not certain, but I believe it’s fair to count head shakes when my daughter asks me if I’m getting enough exercise.

The up and down movement of yes, I am, counts for something, I think. I mean it helps the back and neck muscles, right?

There are some lesser exercises and after all each step counts.

Things like answering the door for the cleaning service.

Never valeting my car in LA, which I count as quite a commitment to my fitness regime.

Dressing and undressing for every MRI, CT Scan, X Ray and doctor’s appointment surely must increase that activity level.

I’m not sure; does moving your eyes back and forth when you read a book count as facial exercise?

Many of my friends tell me they get great upper body breathing exercise from screaming at their husbands to get up and get their own damn diet coke out of the fridge.

There have been many studies proving it’s easier for Baby Boomers to get back into shape than today’s children to get into it. This is due to muscle memory from our active childhood lifestyle.

This sounds great in theory, but one must keep in mind at our age one cannot be certain our muscles still remember any better than we do.

Oh yes, I know how important it is to move your body each day so I make a conscious effort. There is of course a problem when you are intent on getting in as many steps as possible, and your body is intent on stopping you from doing just that.

But I have learned that with a constant supply of ice packs, heating pads and Motrin on hand, I shall prevail.

So take that Gluteus Maximus because Baby Boomers never quit!

Hmmm, how many calories do you think I just burned typing this blog?

No Yin to Soften the Yang; Maybe America Needs a Royal Family


No Yin to Soften the Yang

Maybe America Needs a Royal Family

Life is a process and must possess a delicate balance. The Chinese expression yin and yang has always referred to the state of being that creates a fulfilling and stable life.

Sadly in today’s world chaos and insanity are out of proportion and out of control.

So what does this mean for individuals that seek happiness and contentment, that long for equilibrium?

Well one could look to England for inspiration. Just go with me here for a minute.

In 1960 the United States found itself in a new position. That young family in the White House was not simply the first couple, but for the first time the closest thing to royalty in United States history. Now of course our forefathers, who in their infinite wisdom foresaw the dangers of a monarchy were probably correct. Even George Washington was loath to be President because he thought it might too closely resemble a kingship. Okay, so they gave us Uncle Sam as a consolation prize and he’s a favorite, unless he’s been cancelled, I’m not sure.

Yet look at the facts. The Kennedy dynasty’s indiscretions, with a patriarch far less than noble, were pretty much kept under wraps. With no Internet information access was in quite a different state. The Kennedy brothers’ reputations as womanizers weren’t acknowledged and American people only saw a young, elegant and beautiful couple to admire and hold in high esteem.

When Jackie went to France and captivated the French by speaking their language then enthralled De Gaulle and Khrushchev, we watched proudly. This was our first lady and probably the closest thing to a queen America would ever know. Ah, Camelot was alive and well in D.C..

Americans felt a deep sense of pride over the Kennedys. Her sophistication, elegance and style rubbed off and every woman wanted a pillbox hat or a Jackie style suit. Women copied her hairstyle and men were in awe of her beauty; women by her grace and femininity. We were thrilled to be able to say, “That’s our President and First Lady.” They rivaled any stars in Hollywood and of course we weren’t aware he was sleeping with one.

Of course we all know things have changed dramatically. We no longer view politicians as anything but subhuman and we hold no illusions. Our repulsion returns each November when we are forced to cast a vote for either bad or horrible and those of us who remember the age of innocence are saddened. Oh to be dumb once more.

So I imagine that’s why many Americans are so possessed with the British Royal family. Yes, I’ll say it, “they look to the Queen as their rock and their comfort and in bad times she is there.” She’s the Mom of Great Britain and the Commonwealth, strong, tough and never veers off course. No matter what chaos reigns around her she steadfastly faces it down. She’s the Queen and they are her loyal subjects.

She brings some stability even when their politicians behave like, well politicians, and act reprehensively and corruptly. They have the Queen to fall back on. It is Her Majesty’s government after all. 

Who can Americans look to when our politicians make us sicker to our stomachs than a night of binge drinking and downing tacos? No one! We can’t look to our Queen to reassure us all is well in the kingdom when it is far from that.

So we are forced to face this new reality alone without a monarch. 

Horrifying suicide rates, rising crime, inflation and having to sell your house to fill your gas tank. What does this do to a person’s psyche?

When I was younger life seemed easier. Despite difficult times one could look forward to a happy occasion or event to take the edge off. There were weddings, confirmations, sweet sixteens, holiday gatherings and other upbeat events to allow one to forget the sadness of the week. 

The last three years in the world there has been an overabundance of yang with no ying to soften the blow.

We have been cut off from the world and even now attending parties or events comes at a risk. 

The world is always changing and yet humans could cope by depending on the comfort of a happy time to ease the difficulty of a crisis. We need more joy, more parties, perhaps although it will never happen, our own Queen. 

Many have ventured out into the world deciding against allowing the forces of evil to impede their ability to live a full life. This has worked out well for some and not so much for others, but risk assessment is an individual’s prerogative.

So I guess we’re on our own here in the USA. By the way there is a rumor Uncle Sam has COVID so we may be out of luck there, too.