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Breathe With Me

Hi there, come on in.  No, I’m okay, but thanks for asking  … how are you?  Oh, good, I’m so glad to hear it.  She’s better?  Wonderful news, really, and thank you so much for letting us know.  What?  No … not now, maybe later … who’s that behind you?  Hi!  You’ve made my night just by showing up.  I’m sorry, I know.  I’m just distracted for the moment … you, too?  Seriously?  What’s going on?  Grab a seat on the floor with a pillow handy and wait for me, I’ll be right back.  Your place is beside me tonight, and mine is to sit and not move ‘til you breathe.

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Do You Believe Her?

You know the "her" - Christine Blasey Ford. 

I find myself unable to express more than that - do you believe her?  I find myself unable to ask more than that - do you believe her?  I find myself unable to require more than that - do you believe her?

I do.

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Oh, Florence ...

She's going to beat up my home of 53 years.  I can't fight back.  My body isn't there but my heart is, and emotions are everywhere.  It's almost surreal to remember being a part of it, in the midst of it - the fear, the unknown, the almost palpable relief when it finally started because even if you couldn't do more than experience it at least you knew.  While it lasted, you were a part of it.  Every rain drop, every gust.  I can't do that from here and it's crushing me.  I was just there less than three years ago ...

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It's A Get-Together

Hi there, come on in.  Yeah, I know I’m late … but what’s a mother to do?  You got it!  I love quoting him even if he rarely shows up just because he’s so him.  I know, right?  How many people do you know that are actually quotable?  Too funny … what?  Of course, silly, get yourself in here and have a seat somewhere.  No, it doesn’t matter, really, pick a place and tell me what you want to drink and munch on ...

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Is Humor Always Funny?

Here I go again!  A kinda cool piece about the National Gallery of Art's "Sense of Humor" exhibition.  It covers a lot, though I especially liked this one from 1988:

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Letters Of Hope ... To Freedom, Maine

I've rather come to like putting links here, in Creative Corner, to articles highlighting people, places and things that are too easily overlooked.  Not particularly political, not openly opinionated ... just stories that don't have a place In The News here at Dag but might fill in a vacant spot or two with its' readers. 

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Want A Smoky Drink?

Hi there, come on in.  No, for heaven’s sake, don’t worry about that, just get in here … what difference does that make?  Too funny – whoever told you that was either projecting or just being an ass, you pick!  Yeah, I’m with ya on that one.  Anyway, get in here and have a seat somewhere while there’s still space.  What?  Oh, you’ll know if I kick you off … just kidding, you should know by now I’m always on the floor with a pillow.  Very funny, everybody.  Yeah, laugh it up at my expense.  See if you get anything to eat!  Oh, crap, that reminds me …. no, I have an extinguisher ….

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Can You Say Hero?

I'm putting this article here simply because it's not "news", at least not in the way we know it.  It's also not current since it was published in 1998.  This is about love, and joy, and what it means to be a person ... it's about Fred Rogers.  I got to this Esquire piece via a review of "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" (a new documentary) in the NYT and the mention of an upcoming movie loosely based on it starring Tom Hanks to be released next year.

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The Scent Of Time

My mom’s birthday was March 25th, and I didn’t notice … she died in 2012, so while I’m sure she didn’t notice either it’s an odd feeling  that the day passed for me as nothing more than another ordinary Sunday.  I thought about it, and her, today when I read a wonderful piece in the New York Times titled, “Smells Like Home”.  Maybe more impactful than the article itself were the multiple comments from folks who contributed their little bits of themselves and what they remembered; what prompted their emotional reactions and why.  Really wonderful stuff overall, and more than worth a Sunday read.

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Who Could Argue?

I was a child in the sixties, and grew up with Billy Graham on our little black and white TV.  We weren't an overtly Christian family (far too admittedly dysfunctional), but he was my parental attempt at being mainstream, I suppose.  My Mom loved him, so I did. 

In a past life I was very close to someone who worked for  Samaritan's Purse as first a missionary and then, eventually, a numbers cruncher.  As the former, his family suffered due to his long absences and meager pay.  The latter came to pass because four kids and a wife finally said no more to both.  Even as true believers, the family complaints (and questions) were eventually enough to make the difference.  He was able to stay closer to home, though his pay was still minimal.

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Favorite Quotes

Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have.

~Margaret Mead

I can't breathe.

~Eric Garner

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