Monday, March 27, 2017

Siblings as Friends



Siblings Growing Up

When I planned my family, I read that siblings who are at least three years apart tend to harbor fewer feelings of rivalry than those born closer together. My sons were born five years apart—not intentionally—it just worked out that way. Even with the age difference, after the youngest became old enough to interact with a playmate, the boys shared many of the same interests in children’s programming, indoor and outdoor games, and often friends.

I don’t remember any major fights and few minor disagreements. As young adults their individual interests and talents have set them on divergent paths, though not greatly dissimilar.  They both love music, the youngest with a wider taste in styles. Video games are always a favorite, though the older is also heavily into the game of Magic Cards, an interest his brother does not share.

Both are introverted, one more than the other, and have similar learning difficulties and philosophies on life, which gives them a lot to talk about and a built-in sympathetic ear in each other. I hope that continues as they mature and perhaps begin families of their own.

Siblings in Later Life

The oldest in my family, I have a brother, about fifteen months younger, and a sister seven and a half years my junior. My brother and I fought over toys occasionally—I remember stealing his bike for a friend of mine so we could ride together. We had few common interests. We’d try to beat each other home from school to get to the TV first. I loved Dark Shadows, and still like science fiction/fantasy books and shows. He prefers reality-based programs and movies. He loved sports, baseball, basketball—I forget what else. I had to be nagged to leave my current book to go outside and play.

Today he is one of my closest friends, someone with a shared history who understands all my references. We never lack for conversation. It took longer to achieve this relationship with my sister—too much of an age difference in the early years, I think. She was my baby, not an equal. After marrying and while raising our kids, we usually only got together for family celebrations, Easter, and Christmas.

We recently lost our mom, our father a year and a half ago. My brother was away driving a trailer truck on long-distance trips until the last few months of my mother’s life, which left my sister and I to cope with most of our parents’ failing health problems. This necessitated a lot of back and forth communication and working together to provide the care our parents needed.

I lost my parents but gained an admiring appreciation of my sister as an adult and a good friend to me. My biggest fear at first, after our mom’s death, was that my sister and I would slip into the old pattern of getting together only several times a year. How nice that she is now a friend to whom I can confide such fears. I’m no longer worried.






Monday, March 20, 2017

Hidden Figures



Hidden Figures

I finally got a chance to see the movie, Hidden Figures, with my sister, Darlene. I figured from the subject of the story—black women’s roles in the space race of the sixties—and the trailers I saw that I’d like it, and I did, though for different reasons than I’d assumed. The story included hard-hitting reminders of the unfairness of Jim Crow laws yet was basically a sweet, old-fashioned picture of the triumph of the human spirit.

The three main women in the story either had or wound up with loving partners, adorable, well-behaved kids, and a loving community, all of whom supported them in their careers, unusual at that time for women to hold, let alone black women. Based on historical women who were pioneers in their fields at NASA—the mathematics and engineering of space travel (humans who provided math support were called computers back then) and the beginning of the use of main-frame computers—the real ladies no doubt had far more personal and work-related problems than this movie wanted to handle.

The Story Arc

A well-written story basically has three acts, tension that builds to the story climax, and a short epilogue that makes sure all the story threads have been finished satisfactorily, not necessarily happily, but in context with the theme of the story.

Hidden Figures starts with a little girl, brilliant in math and fast-tracked to a Negro school for the gifted. It quickly transitions to that girl, now grown, working at NASA and eventually being recognized for her contributions to the space program. The movie has a good blend of conflict, tension, and humor.

It is more a feel-good movie than a hard-hitting social commentary that perhaps gets its point across all the better by not shouting about the wrongs heaped on people for no other reason than their sex and color, and instead shows the main characters’ persistence and courage in bucking social conventions intended to keep them from succeeding in the main stream and the respect for each other’s abilities when white supervisors and coworkers had little incentive or interest in providing the same.

I love when stories based on real people end with pictures and short biographies of what happened to them after the picture ends. These three women, brilliant and creative, were instrumental in getting an American to the moon. It would be interesting to know what fields their kids went into and how their mothers’ experiences molded their own.


Monday, March 13, 2017

A Grandson's Tribute



A Grandson’s Tribute

My kids are fairly young to have no grandparents left. Their last one, my mom, was laid to rest the beginning of March. I told my younger son that his grandfather wrote a poem to his grandmother before they were married when he was away in the Navy. I have to go through old papers to see if I can find a copy. My son wants to read it. In the meantime, he wrote a poem from my father’s point of view to read at my mom’s Memorial Service that I thought I’d share.


Our World Now


Rest now your weary eyes
For when you awaken, you’re once more mine.
Take my hand and leave behind
Your mortal shell while your essence shines.

Hear my voice call your name.
Your beautiful soul has never changed.
Exposed to me now, what was within
That always radiated beneath your skin.

Now you leave your grief behind
And join me now outside of time
No longer longing for the stars,
The Earth, the sea, the sky is ours.

We’ll dance amongst the midnight flora
And illuminate it with our aura.
Joy beyond the moon and sun
Fills me now that we are one.

Monday, February 27, 2017

2016 Oscars



The Oscars

Why do I continue to watch this award show when I haven’t seen one of the movies nominated and have rarely seen more than two or three in other years? Sometimes I tune in to watch a particular host I enjoy. I usually like the opening numbers and the performances of the songs nominated. I used to like the anticipation of hearing winners’ speeches, but now that they have so ruthlessly cut the time for each, not much of interest gets said. A continual list of thank-yous quickly becomes boring. Even the memorial for those who have died in the past year has been truncated and modified to banality.

Yet I continue to watch, maybe out of habit or tradition. I started watching as a child with my parents and can remember being nail-bitingly invested in who won in years past. I feel no anticipation anymore and certainly am not invested in the outcomes, and yet I watch.

2016 Awards

I watched the fashion parade prior to the show, which I don’t care about but, gold being this year’s haute couture, it was interesting to see how many shades and variations in style the gowns managed. The opening number was a nice song but tame to the point of ho-hum compared to past years. I thought the In Memoriam was a little better this year—a pretty song and some nice outtakes from the actors highlighted, ending with Carrie Fisher, as Leia, saying, “May the force be with you.”   

Considering the political passion of the last year, comments were fairly few, restrained, and respectful, except of course for the comic bits of the host, Jimmy Kimmel. He made a special point of eliciting a standing ovation in support of the overrated, has-been Meryl Streep (President Trump’s comments after she exhorted people to stand up and be vigilant against attacks on our civil liberties at the Golden Globes).

It was sweet though I couldn’t help wondering if some in the audience felt peer pressure to stand despite the fact that they thought she shouldn’t have used the Golden Globes as a political forum. Normally I agree with that. There are better forums than award shows. But Ms. Streep was receiving a life-achievement award, which should probably leave latitude for the recipient to talk about what is most important to them.

I was happy to see Jungle Book win for visual effects, which I thought were stunning. So I did see one movie nominated. I’d forgotten it was part of this year’s awards.

The Oops Moment

Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway gave the award for Best Picture and had the wrong card (it was for a different category) and announced the winner to be La La Land when it was actually Moonlight. Mr. Beatty looked odd when he read it and handed it to poor Ms. Dunaway to read. Price Waterhouse took responsibility for placing the wrong card in the envelope. I’m sure they will be very careful next year not to repeat what could have been a fiasco, but Jimmy Kimmel handled it well. Not the best, not the worst of the Oscar shows. I’ll no doubt watch again next year.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Supporting Your Children



Supporting Your Children

Not too long ago one of the cohosts on The View, who has young teenagers, said she thought it  was a parent’s job to encourage and support his or her children in all their dreams and endeavors no matter how unlikely or how little talent they might have for them. The world was more than able and ready to shoot them down. Home was their haven.

This simple perspective on parenting jarred me and I wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t I always encouraged my kids? Not unconditionally, I had to admit. One of them wants to make a living in a band, the other as a writer. I have a vivid imagination but am grounded in reality and have a rather literal mind. I talked to them about the hard work and determined persistence it takes to succeed at their dreams. Then in the same breath, I listed jobs where people were or would be needed.

My youngest considered pursuing massage therapy. I agreed he would be good at it but told him, for the same amount of schooling, there were more jobs for physical therapy assistants. He hasn’t looked into either since.

Financial Realities

The woman on The View has a successful career and is married to a successful man, not rich but certainly well off compared to many in the sinking middle class. Even those with better finances have to sacrifice for their children’s education. For parents with less means, their children exploring multiple career options in the education system would take more than they can afford. The child gets one shot and still may wind up with crushing student loans and a career they aren’t happy with or worse—all that education and no job.

It isn’t any wonder that parents feel constrained to guide their kids onto paths they hope will fill their financial needs. Statistics show that because of finances kids are staying longer in their parents’ home or coming back after attempts at independence lead to financial distress. For the most part it isn’t poor parenting or overly entitled kids causing the problem. The economy has changed drastically from two generations ago and many of us either didn’t see it or don’t know how to cope with it.

A Changing Economy

My parents’ generation was able to stop at a high-school diploma, buy a house, and raise a family—often on one income. They worked twenty or more years at one job and retired with a pension. Today’s college graduates frequently start their careers with temporary or part-time jobs, rarely stay at one job more than ten years, have to provide their own retirement income, and can’t survive on one job, despite daycare costs taking the majority of the second or third income.

All that begs the question, do you unconditionally support your teens’ dreams, bolster them against the world’s coldness, or steer them onto more secure paths? I’m still not sure of the answer.