The Astronaut Birthday Cake

At eight years old, my favorite sound was the school bell ringing at 3 P.M., which signaled the end of the school day!. Once outside the school, I would run to the corner and meet with my friends, my older Sister and her friends. We would begin our walk home in a large group, taking turns in exchanging the classroom happenings.

With each passing street the group shrunk in size as our friends went into their homes. The last two blocks was just my Sister and me. We always took a brief pause in our walk to check out the corner bakery and would marvel at the front window displaying the most sumptuous desserts,.

It was fifty years ago, yet the sight of this one particular cake is forever engraved in my mind. It was one week from my 8th birthday, “Look at that birthday cake!” I exclaimed to my Sister. The cake was a half dome, smothered with white icing and three astronauts planted on the top. “Oh man, my birthday is coming up and I hope I get that cake!” I said excitedly to my Sister. My Sister, had inherited the disciplinary side of my Mom replied, “Forget about it, it’s probably too expensive, Mommy can’t afford it and if you eat it, you’ll get fat!” I was pulled away from the window with my wishes falling to the concrete. My parents had recently divorced and even my small immature mind sensed the dire circumstances.

The week passed quickly and my birthday came. It was on a Sunday and my Mother took me and my two Sisters to a local amusement park where we spent the afternoon going on rides, eating cotton candy and laughing at the clowns that passed by. A neighbor had joined us for our Sunday dinner, my favorite, roast beef and mashed potatoes. The table was cleared, and as my Mom came out from kitchen, she dimmed the lights and started a chorus of “Happy Birthday to you”. She lowered her homemade birthday cake with nine burning candles. My eyes focused on the candles and the wish I was about make.

The ringing of the telephone interrupted our song. . “Oh honey, please hold on to that wish…I’ll be right back.” I stared at the brightly burning candles reminding myself they had to blown out with one breath. A few seconds had passed when our neighbor suggested that we check up on Mom, as those candles were making their decent into the cake. We walked into her room and could not believe what we were seeing.. My Mother slumped over in her chair, her face in her hands and sobbing. The phone dangled by its cord. Our neighbor picked up the phone, listened, then said “O.K., I’ll tell the children, I am very sorry, she’ll call you back.” The neighbor turned to us and said, “I’m sorry, but your Grandfather has just passed away.” My Sisters shrieked and began crying, I was too confused. I ran back to the cake with the candles burning, drew a deep breath and wished this wasn’t happening, that my Grandfather was still alive and my mother wasn’t crying.
I blew out the candles and ran back into the room to the haunting sobs. It was my turn to cry.

The neighbor escorted us out of the room and cleaned up the table while my sisters and I wept ourselves to sleep.

I woke the next morning and had hoped the night before was a bad dream, but one look at my Mom and I knew this was real. I was always proud that my Mom was a pretty lady, but on this morning, she was a stranger to me. Her face was drawn; the life had been pulled from it. She wore large sunglasses to cover her puffed eyes and her hair completely disheveled. I could not believe that grief and sadness could change the way a person looked. “I will be going to California for the funeral; Lottie will come and stay with you for the week that I am away. Please behave yourself, and listen to everything Lottie says.”

The week passed my young heart was heavy with sadness and despair for what my Mother was going through. I prayed that when she returned she would look like “mom” again.

Our neighbor took us to the airport to meet her. As soon as we spotted her exit, we charged at her, her face seemed to brighten, her eyes still covered by the sunglasses.
We piled into the backseat of the car and she in the front and told us about her trip, how Grandma and our Aunts and Uncles were doing. She asked how we managed during the week and we filled her in. She turned around to me and said, “I know how hard this must be for you, as the news came at the worst possible moment. When we get home give me the names of your friends, I’ll make out invitations, and next week we will have a make-up birthday party for you.” I didn’t understand how someone could have a birthday party on a day that wasn’t their birthday, but I accepted my Moms suggestion feeling that I would never be able to celebrate my birthday on that same day ever again.

The following Sunday arrived and my friends showed up. We played board games, spin the tail on the donkey, ate candy and made noise. My Mom served up some hot dogs and just as we finished eating, the lights went out and she began a chorus of “Happy Birthday to You”, I shut my eyes and prayed that phone would not ring. When I opened them the brightly light cake was positioned in front of me. It was the astronaut cake! “WOW” I exclaimed, “I can’t believe it!” My lungs felt lighter and took a huge gulp of air, made my wish and blew the candles out with a hurricane force wind!

I leaned forward and removed the three astronaut figures from the cake. I licked the icing off their boots and placed them next to my plate. My Mom cut the cake and gave me the largest piece saying that the birthday boy gets the bigger piece. I dug my fork in and scooped up a piece that was larger than my mouth and as I began to stuff it into my mouth I glanced over at my sister who was laughing at the sight. My eyes caught a glimpse of my mom, who was once again smiling and looking like her beautiful self. For the first time in what seemed a dark eternity, my world seemed right again.

A parent knows all too well how confusing this world can be to a child. Grief, disappointment and deceit enter without an introduction or warm up. We are too unprepared to deal with the event but are always left carrying the scars of it.
The sky had fallen on my head, and her sky had fallen on her, yet she had the inner strength to come lift mine first. On that day, with allowing a few friends to celebrate and an astronaut cake she was able to take hold of my hand and walk me through a terrifying pathway of life.

So I have learned, with the love of a parent, a child will be able to defy the gravity of life’s harsh realities.

Peace…Marc J

UNBREAKABLE VOWS

    Imagine for a moment, that movie theaters had no marquis. That's right, no names in the bright lights, no posters on the front doors. You enter the theater, sit down, and must watch whatever appears on the giant screen!

   Now imagine, that you are the main character in each movie!  "What? How did I get in this flick?" you would always ask yourself! "I must be dreaming!" The truth is, you would be dreaming!

  We close our eyes each night and are escorted into a theater where we have no idea what scenes are about to take place. Most likely, we are the main character, speaking lines and playing a part that we have not rehearsed.

  The other night I closed my eyes and was eascorted to my seat in this theater. The scene opened, and standing before me was my first love, wearing a wedding dress and white flowers in her hair. She had aged the many years that lie between us, but had that youthful look in her eyes. A voice spoke loud, "You may now kiss the bride". In the same instant a narrative explained that we met later on in life and were now being wed!"At Last" I breathed,as we both slowly leaned towards each other. Our lips met,and I could feel the warmth and tenderness of this special kiss. As our lips parted, I took her hand  and placed it on my heart heart. I smiled and said, "look how fast my heart beats from your kiss". There was a twinkle in her eyes, and a smile on her face as she said "you remembered".

  In the next instant I was jumping out bed, beads of sweat running down my neck and my heart racing as if I swallowed a bottle of rocket fuel! In my altered state I went straight to the bathroom and turned the shower to full blast. "What was that?" I mutered to myself as the water pounded down on my head. "What was that?" ....Puzzled like a person who lands in foreign country and can't speak a word of their language.

 I replayed the dream over and over, very careful not to edit or embellish, as if it was going to be evidence that would be submitted in court. I was locked in this altered state, unable to sort out the meaning. Her last words "you remembered" haunted me. What was it that I remembered?  What was it that she thought I had forgotten?  What could have created this whole scenario?  Slowly, the truth began to emerge, not all at once, but slowly, like the sun rising over the horizon.

   When we close our eyes and enter the arena of sleep, we let go of reality. Once reality is tucked away, a cinema that we are not aware of begins playing. The doors to our heart open and many emotions come pouring out seeking a direction.. If we are lucky, the heart will take them to place in time when great changes occured in our lives. If we are really lucky, they return to the point where the toe of innocense made its fist step into the sea of love.

    My rapidly beating heart occured at our first kiss.We always ask ourself when engaging in that first kiss,"what does he/she think?"  There was no denying thet her kiss could make my heart pound and I was happy to show her. She always responded, "yeah, but will you say that tomorrow?"  

   What I had forgotten in reality, I remembered in a dream!

Only in a dream can one be returned to place where all the broken promises are put back together to form an unbreakable vow.

  So, as you wander through your days and close your eyes at night, just know, that someone, somwhere has placed you in their cinema, reassembled all the broken promises and remembers what reality has taken away. May you rise in the morning knowing,there exists a place where there are unbreakable vows.

Marc :)

 

 

Young At Heart

The newspapers are loaded with the back to school advertisements. As the school bells ring they signal not only the start of a new school year, but they signal the end of summer.

The first day of school was always exciting. It was a time to take the new sneakers out of the box, to sport a new outfit and the new lunch box! The first day was all about introductions. The teacher introducing herself, her expectations and her groundwork which had to be followed. It was a time to introduce yourself to your new classmates. In each new grade, the same exercise  was imposed upon us by the teacher. "I want you to stand up, introduce yourself and tell the class briefly what you did this summer"

There was one year, many years ago, that I couldn't wait to stand up and boast to my friends about my summer! I took a deep breath, "My name is Marc and this summer I visited my family in Los Angeles. I went to 5 Dodger games, saw Sandy Koufax pitch a no-hitter, went to Disneyland and Knotts Berry Farm. Spent a lot of time at Santa Monica beach,learned how to body surf on big waves. I went to Carmel California where I visited the Hearst Castle. Went to a drive in movie theater a few times. Visited the production lot of Twentieth Century Fox and saw them film the TV shows "WagonTrain" & "The Lucille Ball Show". Had lunch in the commisary and Rock Hudson was sitting at the table next to mine! Flew in a big jet, and that was my summer!

I remember getting my share of attention from the girls at the mention of Rock Hudsons name. It was resonated like Pavlovs theory. I employed it often.

One thought provocation often leads to another, my mind has intervened and asked me point blank.."O.K. Marc, please stand up and tell the class what you have done in the summer of 2008" 

(kness cracking as I slowing rise).... I purchased a Blackberry, Also purchased a compact car that gets over 30 miles to to the gallon. Had my first MRI, a hearing exam which revealed a hearing loss,. Got new glasses, stronger prescription, switched to decaffinated coffee. Between the blistering heat and smoke from summer fires and the soaring gas prices, spent quality time indoors. Painting doors, rearranging the pantry and closets.Dropped the Blackberry in the toilet. Went to a ballgame,caught the same fish twice in the same day! (I guess even fish can get bored). Scheduled a colonoscopy.

WHAT????  "I can't believe this" I murmed to myself. "I want to be 12 again!!".

There are pills, longevity diet plans, elixers, etc that all promise the "Fountain Of Youth".  Nothing can turn back the hands of time....no nothing. The worst part about growing older is when you feel older.While there isn't a cure for aging,there is something that keeps the spirit vital and vibrant. The walk down the road of time should always be with chin up and the world in view.

This is best achieved with a simple dance, so if any of you ladies care to join in, my good friend Frank will serenade us while we slowly dance....

by the way,,,did I ever tell you that I once sat next to Rock Hudson?

...on 3 Frank..."1,2,3"

Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you're young at heart
For its hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If youre young at heart

You can go to extremes with impossible schemes
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams
And life gets more exciting with each passing day
And love is either in your heart or on its way

Dont you know that its worth every treasure on earth
To be young at heart
For as rich as you are, its much better by far
To be young at heart

And if you should survive to 105
Look at all youll derive out of being alive
Then here is the best part
You have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart.

May your summer days be filled with dreams that will bring you warmth for years to come!...and may you stay, Young at heart!!!

~~~Marc :)

Every Step we take

From the moment of birth we take countless steps. The paths go off in  many different directions and will intersect with other paths, but the last step we take brings us all to the same place, our death..

Imagine for a moment that you were living in 1776, and that you walked through a door and found yourself here in 2008! Highways, cities, cars, planes, cell phones, computers,supermarkets, toilets!! You would be overwhelmed by how far we advanced, but not knowing how we came to the way we currently live, much of this could not be fully appreciated.

We must take the steps, as ordinary as that might be.Some directions we choose, and some are chosen for us. Each is with a reason, whether we are meant to understand it or not. The language of Nature has been open to interpretation since man took his first steps.

Now too retrace some of mine.....

Fifteen years ago to this day, I was dressed in a coaches uniform and was surrounded by my team of 13 year olds, waiting for me to deliver a pregame pep talk. "Guys! Look at me". I commanded. I could see their eyes were focused on the opposing pitcher warming up on the mound. I could hear the boys whisper,"look how fast he is throwing the ball". "Yeah," chimed another, "that's Maudy Hernandez, he hasn't lost a game yet!"..."YET!!" exclaimed Bill Riggans,also a Coach of the team. "Even Nolan Ryan loses games...the best pitchers in baseball always lose games, and today is Maudys turn!"

Bills delivery of inspiration was strong and blunt.He insisted that the boys could beat anyone they wanted to with blindfolds on. I was the methodical one, always giving them a plan of attack. I'm certain if we were alive  5,000 years ago, he would have been the one telling David to kick Goliaths butt. I would have been the one to suggest that he aim between the eyes.

Yes, Maudy Hernandez was one of the best players in our park (along with Jeff Keppinger who now plays for the Reds). Opposing coaches were always in unison in admiring their talents and seeing their potential.

The years rolled by,Bill and I coached a few more years together and shared many great times together. All along, his hopes were for his son to play as long as possible. However, his son Shawn, was never given the opportunity to play in any of his High School games. Against all odds, he walked on at College, and against bigger odds, was drafted by Tampa Bay!

Bill and I stayed in touch over the years and  we kept tabs on the boys that played with us and against us. We had lost touch with Maudy Hernandez until  last August, when his face appeared on news. Maudy, a detective was shot in the head while stopping a man who was driving erratically. We were devastaed. We knew him not only as a fine athlete, but as a wonderful, very mature young man,who was humble in his victory. No one minded losing to him. His parents and younger brother were fixtures at the park as they watched every game and attended each of his practices.

Maudy was clinging to life, his prognosis was dark.

A few months passed and Maudy was in the news again, against all odds he survived and was being sent home. It was time to take the long road towards redeveloping his life.

Last year, Shawn suffered a season ending injury and could not play for the Rays.This year, against the odds, he recovered, made the team and is thrilled to be playing for a first place team (this too is against the odds, Tampa has never had a winning season!)

A few days ago the Rays came to town, Shawn called to let me know there would be tickets waiting for me at the Marlin Stadium. As I walked through the stadium, chills ran up and down my spine, recalling the pint sized boy with huge dreams, and how his father insisted he could outmatch each and every Goliath that stood in his path.

Bill was seated, I approached and said "your heart has to busting through your shirt!" He smiled, "I can't believe I am here!" "Well", I continued, "you can strike this off your bucket list". "Bucket List? What's that?"  I asked if he had seen the movie "The Bucket List" and then began giving him a summary and equated us to the two main characters."Oh yeah, well then I might as well cross off seeing Shawn play at the Marlin stadium, but heck, I still have one long list of things before I kick any bucket!"

Just then our conversation was interrupted by the voice over the loudspeaker system. "Ladies and gentlemen, please draw your attention to the mound,throwing out tonights first pitch of the game is Maudy Hernandez".  Bill and I gasped, tears filled our eyes, suddenly being at the stadium that night had nothing to do about Shawn. Maudy dressed in a Marlin shirt raised his arm and fired a strike to the catcher! The stadium rose and gave a standing ovation. Flanked by his parents, Maudy slowly walked off the field . As he was passing the Rays dugout, Shawn Riggans stepped out. Maudy stopped and with a look that his mind was playing tricks he said "Shawn is that you?" Shawn nodded, the two boys embraced, Maudy exclaiming "I can't believe you made it!" and Shawn echoing "I am so happy you made it through!". Shawn, Maudy and his parents chatted for a minute, then exited the field. Just as I was wiping away some straggling tears, the voice came over the loudspeaker once again, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please draw your attention to  first base where tonights honorary Marlin is Hollywood actor and film Director, Rob Reiner!" (He directed "The Bucket List"). I looked up into the night sky and smiled "got it".

  Within moments of that event, a stadium representative appeared in front of us and explained that Maudy and his family would like for us to come up to his box and say hello. Despite the years that had passed, the memories of all were sharp as we recanted the good old days at he park.

If you put meaning in your steps, they are never washed away by the sea of time.

Bill and I returned to our seats and spent the remainder of the game "coaching from the sidelines". "Come on Carl" Bill screamed "This is your pitch-take it deep".  I questioned why Carl why was batting 3rd in the lineup as a matter of fact, I questioned the batting order. Bill said,"Well the Coach is only two rows in front of us, why don't we just walk in the dugout and ask!"  ....and as the ump called "ball four" giving the opposing batter a walk I yelled out, "ball four?..It was right there!" Bill questioned my judgement saying I was too far from the plate and didn't have an angle. "I don't need an angle...I know if I was in the batters box , I would have swung at that pitch!"   The dialogue continued and it felt like we were transported back in time. Retracing years of steps in the course of one night!

The game ended and as we exited, I could not help but muse on how and why I was there that night. How all the steps that I and others have taken would lead us to this moment...a higher moment. A moment where seeing the extraordinary within the ordinary occurs.

Once again I realized the importance of each step we take. "Fast Forward" doesn't work.It would be like falling asleep on Space Shuutle before it takes off and waking up when its landing in Houston!

There is meaning and purpose in everything and every step you take. Should our paths cross we will see each other at level not imagined.

Its a new day...time for another step. May you step with Peace~  Marc

 

 

 

 

Mountain Of Knowledge-Castles made Of Sand

A warm "thank you" to Vish who selected me  this week for guest editor role. My only regret is that I could not mention the many other fine journals that I visit . Everyone here has a heart that reaches out with words. They are placed here , and like grains of sand they form a mountain of knowlege. Each of your experinces, each of your thoughts, each of your photos, evidence that the pathways to our soul is always open! All of your journals are a complete joy to visit !

Now, back to the topic....Mountain Of Knowledge...

I confess, I haven't quite gotten over the fact that Adam ASSUMED Eve knew what she saying when she said it was ok to eat the apple.

Not sure why, but "making assumptions" is definitely blended into our nature.How many times a day do we perform an act because we "assume" that act is expected of us?

I have made many trips to that Mountain of Knowledge, and only once did I come close to an answer.....................................

 

       One day I climbed to a plateau on this mountain, and as I was inhaling the soft breezes, I could hear cries coming from the side of the mountain. I went to the edge, looked down and saw two damsels were stranded on a ledge just 12 feet below!

 

 “Please help us” they sobbed. I rubbed my eyes, for these damsels in distress were no ordinary damsels, they were Wisdom and Peace!  I assumed  that if I could rescue them, they would share their inner most secrets with me! “Help is on the way” I called out. I turned to a nearby tree and broke off branches and leaves and fashioned a vine. I secured the vine around a rock and lowered myself down to the ledge.

I held one arm open to Wisdom and said “come, place your arm around my waist and I will carry you up”. Wisdom approached and as she took the vine from my hand , gave me a nudge. “Do you really think that Wisdom doesn’t know how to climb?” she asked with a smile. In the blink of an eye, she  climbed up to the plateau. I held my arm open to Peace, and said “come Peace, hold on to my waist and I will carry you up”. Peace approached me, and also nudged me to the side and placed the vine around her waist. “When you have Wisdom as a friend, you don’t need more”. In the blink of an eye, Peace was lifted up to the plateau. I looked up to see the pair looking down at me,”ok, very nicely done, please toss me the vine”. I said with a tone of defeat in my voice.   Their smiling faces disappeared and their laughter began to fade away. “The Vine!” I called out. Wsidom called back, “you don’t need a vine, you will figure out how to get back up, and when you do, you will be Wiser and at Peace with yourself!” As their laughter faded, I mused, now I know  why Adam made his assumption, it was his absolute faith in God that led him to believe he was ENTITLED to have knowledge!

 

 Believing and  having faith does not constitute entitlement to Knowledge! Knowledge must gained through experience , through pain, through struggle and through fear.I needed to be defeated by those damsels, to learn that it cannot be gained by assuming how to act! 

And I mused,  How foolish to think that Wisdom and Peace would need me to rescue them!

 

Yes, I still go back and climb upon that Mountain, despite the bumps and bruises and those "sprites" that inhabit it, each lesson learned bears the taste of fruit, wisdom and knowledge.!

 

Have a wonderful Week...towards the light......Marc :)

 

The List

    It was the end of a long day and all I needed for a final send off was a glass of milk. I opened the refrigerator and reached in for the milk conatiner which had just enough to lighten a cup of coffee. This reminded me to check the can of coffee, which had enough grinds to make a "two sips" worth! I began taking attendance, Juice also low, bread, two slices of which one was the end slice. I glanced at the clock, 10:30 PM, just enough time to make it to the supermarket and thwart what would become  a dreadful morning.

  I pulled in the parking lot, opened the car door and barely had the energy to get out of the car. "I should be crawling into bed" I muttered to myself. I pulled a shopping cart from the rack, and slowly made my way down the aisle. As I placed the carton of milk into the wagon I noticed a neatly folded piece of paper resting at the bottom. I lfted it up and unfolded it to its original 8 1/2"X 11" size. It was a shopping a list and the handwriting with its soft curves was undeniably, feminine. The list read, ....ground beef, bread crumbs, ketchup, milk, cookies, ice cream.  Then in another column, away from this list, on the lower right hand side of the page was another short list,....Tampons, panty liners,douche, pamprin.  In an instant, I could feel a tingling run down my spine. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened, and I stared at this list as if I had uncovered a map leading to a buried treasure. I whispered to myself, "I can't believe it, the answer was in front of me all the time,and I never noticed!"

  Woman....Nourisher, sustainter, healer. She always places the needs of others ahead of her own. Of the two genders, she is more empathetic,and less selfish. She has been that way since the dawn of time. How was our Creator to know that he could trust one of genders to have such a power?  In order to feel someone elses pain,one must feel it for themselves first. In order to comfort another before you even think of comforting yourself, one must feel its own discomfort first. In order to willingly give life to others, one must feel the preciousness of life from within. So, our Creator, with his subtle ways, created a time clock of discomfort and pain,which  would serve as a reminder that one of the species would always be attentive, caring, loving to others. To provokea person in such a way they would  INSTINCTIVELY always place the needs of others ahead of her own....and so, Woman was created!

  I folded the list and placed it back in the wagon. I had come for a carton of milk , juice and coffee and came away with a new persepective, another piece of the puzzle.

Bob Dylan wrote, "The answer my friend is blowing in the wind". No words resonate with more truth....the answers are as close to us as the wind is to our faces!  All we need to do do is stop and feel it!

Another Coin In The Cup

    My daily walk to the office has me pass down this one block where the homeless congregate. Several weeks ago, upon reaching the end of this block, I noticed a new member to this brigade. An old man, bound to a wheel chair that had  warped wheels and a rotten wooden  board as a backrest. My heart sank at the sight of  him and his misfortune. He sat there lifeless, holding onto a soiled papercup that had a few coins in it. I stopped, reached in my pocket and tossed a few coins in. The sound of the coins woke him from his slumber.He looked up at me, "Bless you!Thank You! Bless you!" he said. The mere emphasis on the "thank you" sent goosebumps up my arms, and a tingling sensation down my spine. I never knew that 50 cents could still buy me such a thrill.

    Weeks passed, he became a permanent fixture on the corner, and my donation, a daily ritual. The other morning, I received a phone call as I was walking and was deeply engaged in the conversation. I walked past the homeless man, and was halted by his cry, "Hey! You forgetting me today?" I stopped, turned, and habitually placed my hand in my pocket and tossed a few coins in his cup. he smiled and drifted back into his slumber.

    After I finished my conversation I was overwhelmed by what had taken place. The whole act of charity had been sabotaged. I was giving out of habit, and he was thankless because it was something he come to expect!

 Gratitude is best expressed  when you receive something beyond your expectation.

Of course, I mused.  I am thankful for each day. Each day is like a coin in my cup. The day does not need to be filled with accomplihments or dreams being fullfilled. Just give me a day, and I can fill it with so many simple small things, that by the nighttime it is too heavy to lift. Just give me a day, where I can say a few "I love Yous" a few "thank Yous" and other mutually uplifting words, and I am in debted to the donor!. Just drop another day in my cup, where I am given minutes to recall what  it felt  like to hold your hand, hold you in my arms,  and look in your eyes. Just drop those minutes in my cup, allowing me another opportunity to add something to your memory! Drop this coin into my cup and I feel like the richest man on earth!

I am this way, because I have never expected how wonderful and fullfilling thesethings can be.

Tomorrow the sun will rise, and when I see it, I will hear the clinking...another coin in my cup!...and I will raise my head and thank the donor!

May you all hear the same jingling!

The Worlds Greatest Roller Coaster

  While sitting quietly and being entertained with a fine glass of wine, I could not help but overhear a conversation two women were having at a New years Eve gathering. "How did you make out with your New Years resoloutions from last year?" asked the first woman. "Surprizingly, I did pretty good" came the cheery reply. Continuing she went on to explain,"last year I made a resoloution to pay off my Visa credit card. I took a part time job on the weekends, and every dollar I made went to pay that debt off. In October, I made my last payment and then cut the card up!, I am so proud of myself!"   The other woman complimented her resolve and in the same breath said, "Don't tell me, but are those Jimmy Choo shoes you have on?" The second woman giggled, "I can't believe you noticed, they set me back 300 bucks but they are worth every penny! When I cut up my Visa card, I took out a mastercard with no interest for the first six months!"

 I sipped my wine, and was compelled to muse. Our two favorite pastimes, making resoloutions on New Years Eve, and Roller Coasters!  No wonder, the two have so much in common!  When making a resoloution we strap ourselves into a seat that will point us into the face of tempatation and in the same instant, take us away.As we have our withdrawals from our habits, we are not sure if our cries are from pain or joy!

Naturally, I had to recall my flashback of the resoloutions that I made a year ago, and how I fared. I remember making the resoloution that I would completely refine my diet. I embraced a whole new pantry of wholesome foods. I learned to love  shakes  that looked like seaweed ..I have consumed berries, mushrooms, and teas from lands I never knew existed. The buyer at Whole Foods Market calls me for advice! While I have imbibed all this wonderful life extending food, I still managed to gain 10 pounds in the past year!. I am not concerned, the weight gain is all antioxidants!

My other resoloution was designed to increase my overall productivity. This is hard for a man who dreams. I made the resoloution not to spend so much time thinking about the way things once were. I succeeded, by unfortunately, I found myself thinking more about the way things are. In doing so, I took an uncomfortable notice.The present is a place of highs and lows, the present is a path that runs straight, then banks left, right and left again! One moment there is calm, the next is filled with anxiety, fear , or with love and joy. When you are in the present nothing stays the same for too long!  This is why keeping resoloutions is so very difficult. The tracks of time we are fastened to have so many twists and turns,ups and deep drops dowward, its amazing that we can even stay on the path!

So as I embark this ride into the next year, I resolve to enjoy the  feel of the wind against against my face, to maintain my balance with  faith that after  each sharp twist and turn, I will still be safely seated. My heart will beat wildly with joy and fear,and my exuberance will be from knowing that both joy and fear bring me closer to a higher power.

When the ride comes to its end next year, I will be allowed to look back at the way things were and will only conclude "what a wonderful ride".

I wish each and every one you a Happy, joyous and breathtaking ride through next year. More importantly...we are ridng this together..so fasten your seatbelts....the ride begins!

Peace and many blessings to you all.....Marc :)

 

Giving Thanks

At this time of being thankfull, I would like to give thanks to all of you who have spent countless hours creating your wonderful journals! Thank you for providing me with something to think, laugh and smile about. Thank you for provoking me in ways I never expected. ....and...Thank You for coming here, and leaving your kind words and sharing your thoughts! You are a very special and dear group of people!

While I am giving thanks, I would like to thank a few people who unknowingly affected me in such profound ways as to alter my way of thinking.

I would like to thank the woman who applied her make-up at a traffic light and gave me a glimpse of how a womans true beauty is revealed. "Lovely and Amazing" (entry 12/18/05)

I would like to thank Hilda for stuffing food in her bra while on the buffet line and showed me that when a love becomes so selfish, it ruins the picnic! "Hildas Bra" (entry 9/17/06)

I would like to thank the cast of Sesame Street, who in two hours taught me the most important lesson I could learn about being a parent! "Sesame Street Live" (entry 6/18/05)

I would like to thank Pearl King, who taught me the weight of a soul is more important than the weight on the scale! "The Weight" (entry 9/3/07)

I would like to thank Carrie, a date, who taught me that laughter is the most  powerful aphrodesiac. "Lotus Eaters" (entry 7/19/05)

I would like to thank Kenny, the spoiled one, who gave me the answer to "How many Mantle cards Does A Boy Need" (entry 10/18/05)

I would like to thank that 30 something Blonde in the Bloomindales lingerie dept, who allowed my imagination to transcend time in "Breathless in Bloomies" (entry 12/27/05)

I would like to thank my son for picking up 3 pennies off the floor and allowed me to learn how the highest fence we have to climb is our own ego! "Pennies From Heaven" (entry 2/20/06)

I would like to thank the camper who in bringing me a meatball sub actually brought me the way I would live the rest of my life! ---BIG THANKS FOR THAT! "Meatball Sub" (entry 3/2/06)

There are so many more to thank, but I have to run...as you can see,  we have a photographer here that will do a family shoot.  There will be no need for me to say "cheese", I'm just going to think of all the wonderful souls that have crossed my pathhere, and I'll have the biggest smile!

Happy Thanksgiving to All!

Marc :)

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Love Bites

 The other day a young co-worker arrived at the office sporting a "hicky" on his neck. "Nice tattoo" I commented as I handed him his daily task list. "It's only temporary" he replied. As I walked away, I mused,"that's what you think!" My mind quickly ran back in time when I received my first hicky.

  It was a summer long ago, I was 14. In the apartment building I lived in, there was a group of us who spent our summer days as if we were cloned . We'd all get up early, watch re-runs of "I Love Lucy, Andy Griffith Show, Leave It To Beaver and Father Knows Best" . By 12 noon we would all meet by the swimming pool and spend the next 5 hours having splash fights,holding your breath underwater contests, perfecting our cannonball dives off the board, and taking siestas inbetween the laughter and the chat. At 5 P.M. we'd all head back to our apts and have our dinners, shower up, and by 7 we'd all reassemble, squeaky clean, in the courtyard.

 The courtyard was the hangout for all the residents of the building. Our small group, needing its privacy had a small corner that was exclusive to us, we called it, the "Chit Chat Corner".

On one such evening, just as I was approaching the sacred ground, Lovely Laurie, walked up to me and with her reassuring smile said, "Marc, tilt your head a little". Her wish was always my command, I would have jumped off a building for her, so this seemed rather simple.  Without a chance to comprehend her wish, she quickly leaned over, and nibbled on my neck for a mere 3 seconds. She pulled away and her friends who were flanking her right and left shoulder immediately commented. "Nice Laurie, very Nice". Then, my freinds joined in with their observations, "wow Marc, nice looking Hicky". 

"Hicky?" I asked in puzzlement, "what is a hicky?"

They all laughed at my naivety. "You don't know what a Hicky is?" they chimed. My level of wisdom was challanged, but these were my friends, so I felt fine in pleading to my innocense. "When you suck on your skin for a few seconds, you break the blood vessels and a mark appears."  Somehow, this did not make much sense to me, so I paid no further attention to it.

We disassembled for the evening, I returned home, greeted by my older sister (she was 18 at the time, and the "rebel" amongst the 3 of us) "Wow Bro, nice Hicky you have there!" She looked examining the mark. "Who gave that to you?" .....Justthen my other older Sister appeared on the scene (16 at the time and she inherited the "Mom" side) . "Oh my, Mom is gonna be real mad when she sees that on your neck!" she admonished.I tried defending myself  explaining that Laurie was just practicing but it was met with a several disbelieving "uh hums". The commotion brought the attention of my Mom and Step Dad (my step dad was a Lee Marvin look alike and soundalike...tall with a deep husky voice) My mother came into the kitchen, "what's going on here? Did I hear something about a Hicky?" My Step dad moved right in, peered closely at my neck, pressed his finger down hard on it...and looking me in the eye, he said aloud, "Nah, it's a bug bite, go put some calamine lotion on it now!"

  I moved quickly past the crowd, into the bathroom and doused cottonballs with the pink lotion and then painted my neck. Yes, that did the trick. As I admired this "bite" on my neck,with all the attention it garnered, I began to understand its significance!

  It wasn't till a few years later till I received my next Hicky, and not only understood, but deeply appreciated its significance! My level of wisdom elevated....the next few days I wore a turtleneck sweater!

Yes, the Hicky only lasts a few days on the skin...but in the heart....it lasts much longer!

The Voice

   There is little enjoyment in being told what to do. This is where many an offspring takes a detour from that abiding path it walked with its parents. This is where many a loyal employee seeks shelter in extra coffee breaks and "sick days". This is where many a spouse begins building "the wall".  Face it, young or old, it just doesn't sit well with us when we are told that we must do something.

  It was many years ago, my first week in the Army I observed that the best way to de-humanize someone, was to tell them what they had to do, every minute of every day! It was there, I was told what to wear, when and what I could eat, when I would wake up and when I would sleep. I was told how to stand ("ATTENTION"), I was told when to relax ("AT EASE,SOLDIER"). I was told which way to face ("right face") and worse, 90% of the steps I took, I was told which foot to place on the ground ("left, right ,left"!).In just a week, I asked myself, "who am I?"

It was during those days that a voice from within emerged loud and clear. This was my inner voice. It brought me the songs that warmed my soul, it comforted me when I was wounded, it encouraged me when I needed a double dose of bravery. This voice carried all the words of my sweetheart that I left behind, it kept a count on the days that remained till my tour was up. It entertained me like Bob Hope would entertain the troops, and thus, I was still able to smile and share a laugh with others. As I boarded the bus to return home, my inner voice yelled "Yahoo, you made it, you see, you did it, just like I said you would!"

Since that day, I never argued with my inner voice.

  Two weeks ago, I received a phone call from my son who was in tears. A relationship that he thought would be "everlasting" came to a screeching halt and smashed into too many bits and pieces to put together again. "I know you are calling me with the hope that I am going to give you some special message that will make this pain go away" I said. "Yes,I can really use something to grasp onto" he said with the sound of despair in his voice.       I drew a deep breath and said "I am not the person you should be speaking to. You need to speak  with the most intelligent person that I know, a person that I trust will steer you in the right direction".   My son paused, "who is that?" he asked . "That extremeley intelligent person is your inner voice!  Sit down and listen to that voice that has taken you further than I ever imagined you going. Have a chat with that voice that knows you better than anyone on this planet!" 

I explained the answers won't pop up like a magic wand has been waved, but clarity will come with time , and healing with introspection.

We spoke yesterday, he sounds just fine and is moving on with his life, fortifying his resolve and saving his energy for the next possibility.

I just love how that inner voice works!

So, the next time you feel that need to hear someone really intelligent, someone who really knows you....just let that inner voice begin to speak! You'll love what you'll hear!

The Weight

                                     The Weight

   "Uh-Oh" were the first words I uttered today. It was my commentary after reading the numbers on the scale. "Time to start another serious diet" I contemplated. This lament is not new. It seems most of my life has been a series of starting a new diet just as the old one ended!

   My first battle began at age 11. My mother had taken me to a clothing store for a suit. The salesman ( once known as a Habidasher), measured my waist, my inseam, my shoulders, and then slipped the tape measure around my chest. He  gently placed his hand on my shoulder, smiled cordially at my my mom and said " you have a fine young growing boy here, we shall need to look in the "Husky" section. "What's a Husky? I innocently asked. my mother quipped, "it means you are growing the wrong way! Instead of growing taller you are growing sideways!". I glanced over to her, she had this look, like I had double crossed her. I felt awful. I never liked that look. It was a guilty verdict that diminished my feeling of  self-esteem.

  In those days there wasn't any no Jenny Craig, NutriSystem or Weight Watcher Programs. There were no Lean Cuisines, Healthy Choice Meals and the word "Low fat" was not a concept on packaging labels. There wasn't Diet Coke!

  The following week I found myself in the backseat of the car being driven to a clinic to be consulted with a "dietitian".  Learning experiences...I was always open to what they had to offer.

  We arrived at the assigned room. The dietitian sat at her desk and took down all types of information about me. She began explaining about calories, food choices and the importance of keeping a diary of what I ate. She handed me pages of the food groups that I could  pick from and a suggested menu for the next seven days. "Next week, you'll come back, report to the room marked on the paper and we will monitor your progress".  My world was slightly inconvienced, but anything not have my mother give me that double crossed looked again!

  The next week we arrived at the room. I opened the door to find a room filled with people sitting in chairs. The dietitian was sitting at a desk in front of the room, next to her, an assistant. "Sign your name on the sheet, have a seat and wait till I call your name" she commanded with a voice of authority.   I signed my name at the bottom of a long list and then took a seat with my parents in the back.

  The silence was broken by the loud announcement of a name by the assistant. I observed a person get up from their chair, walk to the front of the room , stepped  on a Drs. scale."One Hundred and Sevnty Four pounds, You lost two pounds" came the unpleasantly loud voice of the assistant. My heart jumped, "oh my, how embarrassing!" I began to sweat as my pulse heightened. I carefully paid attention as each name was called, trying to imagine how I was going to summon enough courage to do this. The assisant called out "PEARL KING"...I turned to my mom, her name was Pearl, not a common name, I chuckled and she smiled at me, "not me" she said. Two rows ahead of us, the chairs squealed as they were slid across the floor. A woman slowly rose. I could not believe my eyes...she had the biggest backside I had ever seen! She had a large dress on, there was no telling where her tush began or ended. As she approached the scale I began to immediately feel sorry for what she was about to experince. She stepped on the scale, the assistant quickly slid the weights to the end of the beam, making a loud "clack" sound as they hit the end. The assisant took a quick look and loudly announced "NO WEIGHT FOR PEARL KING".  Pearl stepped off the scale and sat down next to the dietitian and handed over her diary. Confused I asked my Mom for an explanation. "The scale doesn't go high enough" my mom explained.  "Without a weight, how does she know if she is gaining or losing ?" I asked. "She won't know, and she will have to try  till her weight comes down to the where the scale measures it".  this transcended my abilty to comprehend, imagine walking around and not knowing what you weigh! How awful!

  The weeks passed, and I made progress. Each subsequent week I returned with more self confidence and a better understanding of what I could and should not eat. But, poor Pearl King, each week was the same "NO WEIGHT", despite the fact that it appeared she was making some progress.

 By the third month I had made enough progress where my Mother said, "I think this will be your last weigh in, I can take over from here". So on that last trip to the clinic, we waited for my nameto be called. "PEARL KING" the assistant called out. Pearl walked up the scale and the assistant once again slammed the weights to the very end, gave a quick glance, then...paused, jiggled the weights, stared and then said aloud " TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY EIGHT POUNDS.....WE HAVE A WEIGHT FOR PEARL KING".  My mom and I let out a small "yeah". I was so happy for Pearl, she finally knew her weight!  I think I was more relieved about her, than my own progress!

On the ride home my mother told me how proud she was of me, how good I looked and that I needed to continue with my efforts. I could only think of how happy I was for Pearl King.

.....................Now, many many years later, I understand why.   We are all here in this world for a limited time. The years go streaming by and it seems like we are just "passing through". We can step on a scale and see what we weigh "physically", but there is no scale that weighs our "usefullness, and  fullfillment". That measurement has us all guessing ! Not having such a scale has us pause and ask, "am I doing what I was supposed to do? is the the way I was supposed to spend my life here?"

 One can say, that an act of kindness, a blessing rendered onto another is like consuming spiritual calories.If that is the case, then I pray that when our time comes, we all will tip the scales!

The "other" diet begins tomorrow!

Marc :)

Points Of View

    While waiting on the checkout line at Target a woman pulls up behind me with two wagons of patio furniture.She has one of those tabloids and quickly flips the pages, stops, and  with a look of concern on her face, reads an article. She reaches for her cell phone. "Hi honey!" she exclaims with a high frequency pitch, "listen, I just checked out my horoscope and it says that I need to spend more time outdoors. I need to take in the summer sun and I will become inspired to do wonderful things!"then continuing in the next breath, "listen, I'm at Target and that Patio furniture we were looking at is on sale, so I'm picking it up!" There was a moment of silence, a noticable expression of disapproval and a subdued, "OK, I'll see you later, bye."

  She noticed my stare and expression of disbelief. "Did he actually buy that explanation?" I asked with a broad grin. She smiled back, "nah, he is the same sign as me, he just told me "whatever", then explained that his friend just called and asked him to go fishing on his boat, and his horoscope said he needed to be in the sun too!" Then with a frown, "now I'm going to have to unload this out of the truck and carry it into the backyard myself!"

I turned, a message flashed in my mind like a large billboard that you see on the highway. "We all see the same the thing, we just see it with a different point of view."

The gauntlet was now thrown. My mind tangled with this message. Can it be? All our lives, we look at the same thing and see it differently? I began processing images, a box of chocolates...heavenly to some, deadly and unwanted if you are a diabetic.Marriage, sex, work, food, art, I went through them all and no matter which image I brought up, I could hear two different points of view for each! Goodness! It's a miracle that we can even get along!

My approach to this became forensic, pulling apart moment by moment to find an element that universally we can all see, and have the same point of view! My investigation left me with two such moments in our life, birth and death. A newborn infant, the sight of one has us pause and smile. Even little children, when they see a newborn infant are magnetically drawn to the preciousness and delicateness an infant posseses. Simply, there is nothing as precious and delicate. ....The other element that we all see the same way, the sight of a person that has passed away. Whether we know them or not,the sight of person has all of pause and reflect. Our reflection can be different, but the sight will have us pause and think.

"That's it?" I asked myself. Birth and death are the only images that we can see and have the same point of view", and everything inbetween is open to personal interpretation?  "It can't be!"  I said. I became overwhelmed with a wave of depression."Life is just too precious for us to march through it and not be in some sort of agreement about what we see!" When I worded it in that form, the answer became apparent! "Life", yes,seconds, minutes, hours,days, seasons, years....each so very precious! It is so precious that it does not matter if we all see it with the same point of view. It matters only if YOU see it that way!   When you see each new day as precious as newborn, it will be filled with your love and kindness. And a day with YOUR love and kindness added to it....is something that is universally seen in the same warm and wonderful light!

Wishing you all a wonderful day and a front row seat with this point of view!

 

Don't Think Twice It's Alright

The power of our intelligence easily overwhelms our intellect.Look at what man has done in the last 25 years. We have built spaceships that journey to the ends of our universe that can  send back color photos! We carry devices that allow us communicate both voice and video to others all over the world! We continously stretch the borders of what we can only imagine!

Despite all of this intelligence, the one thing we struggle with is the ability "to think twice".We just were not wired to stop, think twice before submitting to our impulses.Thus, our closets are littered with items purchased on an impulse, our waitlines expanded from that piece of cake we just had to taste and sadly, we walk with the scars on our hearts from hurtful words spoken to us without thought being placed upon them before they were hurled at us.I often wondered what our Creator was thinking when he imbued us with this "impulsive" behavior.

This morning I headed out early to the supermarket to rent a carpet cleaner. I entered the store and passed by a shopping wagon marked "Items Reduced For Clearance". My quick glance stopped me cold in my tracks, the wagon was filled with candles! While I love candles, I already have enough to light St. Patricks Cathedral for a year! I noticed a nice small pack of tea lights. They were scented, ginger & pear, subtley delightful! There were 3 packs and I quickly scooped them up! A voice rang loud in my head.."PUT THEM DOWN!...They are the last thing you need, so put them down!" I rarely argue with my mind, and I put them back in the wagon. Another voice chirpped in "ARE YOU NUTS?... You were going to buy those candles a month ago at three times the price, pick them up NOW!" I reached back in the wagon and lifted them out. This prompted the first voice "YO MARC, What did you come here for? To rent a carpet cleaner...not to buy candles because they are on sale....PUT THEM DOWN!" Back into the wagon they went. This prompted the the second voice.."just remember, they won't be here when you finally realise that you want them!"... "Enough!" I muttered...this is crazy...I did an abrupt about face and headed straight to the service counter to rent the carpet cleaner....no candles.

 The clerk greeted me and began preparing the paperwork for the rental. I happened to turn around and noticed a woman walking straight towards me with the three packs of tea light candles in her hand! My mind flashed,"oh no, she saw my little spectacle of " in and out of the wagon" and she is going to insist that I buy them" (I have a an imagination that runs wild...) She stands behind me and calls out to the clerk "can I pay for these here or do I need to stand on the cashiers line?" He smiled, "you can pay for them here, I will be ready to ring you up in a minute". The second voice summoned , "well, there they go.., no chance to get them now"... I watched the woman as she was smelling the packs....I smiled, "it's Ginger and peach scented, they are very lovely". "Oh, I don't care about the scent" she replied.."they are not for me....I  work in a nursing home that has Alzheimers patients and I thought it would be nice to burn some candles....ya never know what a little atmosphere will do for them".  My mouth fell open, my heart immediately warmed, "oh how wonderful of you!" I exclaimed.  Her facial expression poised, she explained that the Nursing home does not have funds for such things, so when she saw these so deeply discounted, it was something she could take care of herself. "Bless you!" I said as I was interrupted by the clerk telling me my rental was ready.

 As I exited the store, it became clear to me about the issue of why we were created with impulse and not  wired to "think twice". When it comes to performing acts of kindness, charity and being selfless....we need to act on impulse! We should not think twice and ask "should I?" 

May you all have those moments, where you don't think twice...cause it's alright!

 

 

Transformations

Transformations

 

The seventh grade coincides with an awakening to puberty that makes for  a very powerful transformation for any adolescent! Physical changes induced perceptual changes. Schoolyard conversations were migrating from who was the best ballplayer of the day to who was the prettiest girl in the school. In our school, there was no debate who the ugliest girl was. There was no one even comparable to poor “Miss M”. I even believe that “Miss M” knew that she could win that title. It was sad, and I often wondered why and how God could place a person in such a lowly position.

 

   “Miss M” had a very light complexion that was sprinkled with thousands of red and pink freckles. We marveled at the quantity and the different shapes that had  camped out on  her face! Her hair was a short growth of frizz, and was a fiery orange…which of course brought out the freckle syndrome. She was topped off with a very large nose …which brings us to the opening act of this recollection.

 

   During lunch break we would eat lunch in the schoolyard and the guys would go off and flip baseball cards, play a quick game of “flip the penny” or try to elevate their stature with intelligent conversation. Intelligence at the seventh grade level is measured by how gross a statement or insult you can make!   I recall a few of those conversations regarding “Miss M”.  “I swear I saw her pull a booger out of her nose that was as big as my thumb!” said one of the guys. “That’s why she’s so ugly, cause she eats those boogers”. I confess, there were times I chuckled at the insane remarks, but deep in my heart, I always felt sympathetic towards the day to day plight she lived.

 

  I am not certain of the event, but I do remember returning to class after lunch and happened to look over to “Miss M” who sat a row away from me and few seats back. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was clasping a tissue. She had been crying and was trying to hold back her tears. “Oh no” I said to myself, she must have heard the remarks that the guys were making about her. It’s funny how insults always traveled faster than the answers to Miss Goldberg’s math quiz.

 

  The next day I told the guys that “Miss M” spent the afternoon crying, and asked if any of the insults were spread about. The guys seized the moment to turn on me, “oh so you like “Miss M”? They laughed. I defended my statement, “it’s not right, she knows she’s far from pretty, we shouldn’t get our laughs by rubbing it in her face!” I exclaimed.  I startled myself; it was the first time I was sticking up for someone other than myself!

 

 In a world where everything is “just and fair” these boys would have woke up the day with foot long noses and boogers hanging down like icicles. But no, I arrived at school the next morning to find a huge, chalk drawn, heart shape with both my name and hers in it! The guys laughed, “She’s all yours”.

  The chalk drawn heart had a very short life span. As we exited the school that afternoon, we were surrounded by Dominic and his gang. Dominic was the “Soprano” of the school.

The gang cornered my friends, Dominic got very close in their faces. “If you knuckle heads ever draw anything on a wall where my name is on it, I’ll bounce your heads on the ground like a Spaulding ball! His entourage removed erasers from their back pockets and threw them at us. “Get this off the wall NOW” he demanded!  My friends raised their bowed heads to notice that the heart with my name and “Miss M” was on the same wall as “Dominic & Anita  4 eva”. Dominic turned and looked at me, “and you….you get some taste”.  Little did he know, I had a slight crush on Anita and she always had a smile for me.

 

The years passed. We all moved up, grade by grade. Fortunately, that period of insults was replaced by greater conversations, “which girls were the bad ones”, and “who I’d like to spend the night with”. Nobody even cared who the best  ballplayer of the day was!

 

  Enter “The Summer Of Love, 1967” . Like a wave, it covered and transformed each and every one of us. Our hair expanded on top of our heads like yeast filled bread. Our dungarees were bell bottomed, our shirts tie-died, our language transformed with words of “groovy, peace brother, and dig it.” We all returned to school and could barely recognize each other (except me, who still dressed as if he were an ivy leaguer). However, the biggest transformation was “Miss M”. Her bright orange hair, now fully grown into a very hip perm. Her heart shaped, oversized sun glasses fit nicely on her nose,(they dwarfed it!) and the freckles were now a unique accoutrement to the large plastic “peace sign”   earrings that dangled from her ears. She walked down the halls with confidence; she was now flaunting her uniqueness! She was on all accounts, “groovy”!

 

  Over the years we rarely spoke, but always acknowledged each other with a smile. I would get a chuckle when I would hear a guy mention her name with a desire of getting to know “the cute chick with the wild orange hair”.

 

 

  I have often wondered about her transformation. Was this an answer to a mother’s prayer? Was Miss M’s” transformation a result of a friend taking her out for a makeover? Or, was this part of Gods plan, The Summer of Love, ushering us through a portal where we came out more loving, more compassionate and wearing flowers in our hair?

 

  A girl, plagued at a tender age, having to carry an unbearable weight. Then being transformed so dramatically where her appearance and personality could take someone’s breath away! Imagine, one tiny insignificant person merging onto the highway of self confidence and self esteem…..flaming orange hair and all!

 

….To those that may be discontent with their appearance, feel like they are in a ugly relationship, or if they feel like they are facing life in the wrong direction, just remember, there is a highway up ahead ….merge on!

 

Hope always has a free ride….it’s Gods plan!

How to hold on to a dream

    At the tender age of 7, my parents divorced. The meaning of this was not my vocabulary. I was raised on a steady diet of images from a black and white T.V. set, living in the world  of "The Donna Reed Show", "Ozzie & Harriet" and "Leave It To Beaver". Despite moving from L.A. to N.Y, I believed that at any moment, my father would be walking through the door.

    I was already accustomed to waiting. He was a traveling salesman and was not a "household fixture"prior to the divorce. A few years passed, and he showed up a few times. The visits were always brief and integrated with a business call to a client. I never had his undivided attention.While I became accustomed to waiting, every once in awhile that feeling would get interrupted by friends who boasted of going to Yankee games with their Dads.

  In the fourth year of the divorce,a clearer picture of the reality of the divorce was received. Both my parents remarried. I inherited a new stepdad and stepmom almost simultaneously. Nevertheless, I kept my eyes glued to the door, and waited. I was not waiting for him to come and turn my world right side up again, I was just waiting for that moment , where I could know him as my Dad.

  My Mother was well aware of my feelings and thus arranged for me and my sisters (both older) to spend a summer (1962)with him and our new stepmom. My 11 year mind kept it simple for me, it was a chance to spend time with my Dad, visit my cousins, Aunt and Uncle and Grandma who also lived in L.A. and to be in the same town as the L.A. Dodgers! (I was a huge Dodger fan).  I went to my shoebox of baseball cards and selected the top players of my collection,  and slipped a rubberband around them. I packed my one and only favorite board game (called All-Star baseball) and told my Mom, "I'm ready". (I let her pack my clothes!)

 She took us to the airport. There were no police, security guards or resticted areas. She was allowed to walk with us to the door of the plane and hand us over to the stewardess. The stewardess took me in the cockpit to meet the pilots, who showed off all the dials and handed me a plastic set of wings to pin on my shirt. We all saluted each other, and I was escorted to my seat. I may have been sitting, but my young spirit was flying!

 My Dad greeted us with his big warm hug and carried our bags to his car. It was like a dream, being withmy Dad, in Los Angeles, Summertime. I sat next to him in the front seat of his Caddy. "You a Met Fan?" he asked. (It was the first year of the Mets). I made a face of disapproval, "they are the worst team ever!" I exclaimed. "I am a true blue Dodger fan...they are in first place ya know!"  ... He laughed, and said.."well I wasn't sure, and I wanted to play it safe" as he pulled a pair of tickets from his shirt pocket ..."tickets for Friday nights game ...Mets Vs. Dodgers!'  My mouth fell open, blood rushed to my head,I shrieked..." Oh My God!!!I'm going to see the Dodgers!!! ...at Chavez Ravine...Oh My God!!"  I reached in my pocket and pulled out my deck of baseball cards and flipped through till I came upon Dodgers. Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax, Murray Wills, Duke Snider....I was to see them at last!.   My fathers voice broke in.."Now hold on to the tickets....O.K.!".....He handed them over to me, Bright orange tickets with the date June 29, 1962. (I still have the stubbs)

  I was in his car no more than 5 minutes when I already declared that this was going to be the best summer that I would ever have!

  "Dad?" I asked...."Have you ever heard of the board game "All Star baseball?".... Of course, he had no idea and did not know why I was asking..."Well, I brought it with me, and I was wondering if you would like to play it sometime?"

 He smiled and said...."sure...afterall, we have the whole summer".

__________________________________________

Forty five years ago, to this very hour, I returned home that night from a game and a time that fulfilled a dream of mine, and I have learned...you only need to fill a dream once and it lasts an eternity in your heart.

Field Of Dreams...What you can't imagine, most often comes true

With boys grown and out of the house, my mind slips back, around the corner....

 To those who have dreamed upon the baseball fields, there can be nothing as elegant as the sight of a neatly cropped baseball field, with its white lines tracing a path from the batters box to the green grass of the outfield.

  At the tender age of six, my fisrtborn sons addiction began. I was impressed at the valor he displayed while fielding ground balls that were taking wicked hops right at him! I was impressed with the courage he displayed at swinging at a ball thrown mightly in his direction! I was impressed with his energy scampering around the bases with a hard plastic helmet on his head that wobbled like a wounded wing of a bird!

 It was my greatest pleasure to be able to coach him and the boys in the neighborhood on this field of dreams. Our abundantly eager appetites to play this game, made Spring the most heavenly season of them all! With each new Spring, new lessons were taught, new strategies were added to our arsenal. Curveballs and sliders were tweaked, pickoff moves precisely tuned, and diving catches perfected as we dreamed of snatching victory from the opposition in their last at bat.

  The years rolled along, trophies and team photographs lined our hallway. Our conversations were a mixture of what he learned in school that day and a scouting report of who we were facing in the next game.

  We traveled far and wide to meet the competition. It didn't matter where, just as long as there was a team and a field to play on.

  The final Spring came, his Senior year in High School. We both knew that it was time to put the glove down and concentrate on a college and a career. My heart sank with the final out of his last game.It was a long and fabulous run. In the salt of tears was the sweetness of the memories that I was blessed with.

  A few weeks after that last game,it was time for him to depart for college. The car packed with his belongings,gave me the sinking  feeling of an exodous, not the joyful feeling of an adventure. Before we headed onto the highway, I pulled into the complex of ballfields where he played and I coached. I asked him to come out to the mound with me (he was a pitcher). As we headed out to the mound, I began playing a mini highlight reel of the many years we practiced and played there.The countless hours that we spent dreaming, hoping, laughing.

  We reached the mound and we both looked around, this time, there was no battle to be fought, no stategy to be executed, just a father and his son. I began telling him how proud I was of him. That it was a joy and an honor to have had such a wonderful front row seat to his "field of dreams". I removed a small jar from my pocket and squatted down. My hand cupped some dirt from the mound. I stood up, removed the lid from the jar, and slowly poured the clay dirt into the jar. I gave the jar a little shake, smiled and said "that does it". Continuing with a baseball sized lump in my throat, "Being your Coach all these years gave me a very distinct advantage. Everytime I felt you about to falter, everytime I felt your disappointment with yourself I could call for time out and walk out to this mound. I could come out here and give you the words of reassurance and blow a little wind beneath your wings to carry you through. While you are in college, I won't have that privilige to call "time out". In this jar, I have collected the sand from every field that you have played  and dreamd on. Your dreams are very alive in this jar. Keep this close at hand, let it serve as a reminder to you, of those that love you and will always cheer for you."

  He smiled and read the inscription on the jar's label. "Every Spring there was a new season...a chance for us to watch you on your Field Of Dreams....Always dream!"

...............One the true blessings in life, What you can't imagine will happen , most often comes true.

At The End Of Two Roads

   I wrote this when I was 18 ( so many years ago)...its meaning has deepened with the passing of years........and even more so with the events of the past week......

                                           At The End Of Two Roads

  Two wanderers met at the end of two different roads. They greeted each other with a smile and began exchanging the tales of their long journey. "I was on the most awful road you could imagine" moaned the first wanderer. "All I saw was war, famine, illness, greed and hate". The people  on that road were ruthless!...Why, I am lucky to even have made it out of there!"

  The second wanderer waved his hand "that's nothing compared to te road that I journied on. My road was far worse! First, the streets, they were lined with gold. There were diamonds the size of your fist, everywhere! Trees were bent over with huge fruits.It was a horrible path to be on! Especially for such a long  time!"

  The first wanderer had an expression on his face of complete puzzlement. "What??" He questioned. "How could you possibly believe that the road you were on was worse than the road I was on?"

   The second wanderer drew a thin smile and then replied "there was nobody on it."

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   Now many years later, I look at this road we are all on...there is war, there is hatred, we have mad men killing our children, killing each other! I see illness and disease taking away the love of life from so many. Yes, this is a hard road indeed., but I have come to witness......that for every heart which is torn, there are a ten hands around that will try to mend it. For every person surrending their life there are 100 hands that want to carry it.For every soul that has lost its way, their are ten hands that want to guide it.

We are on a road that is paved with something that outshines diamonds and gold..we are on this road together!

I hope you see this before you reach the end of the road.

My thoughts  go out to all whose lives are being affected by grief and despair...I hold my two hands together and pray.....

Peace....Marc :)

Binoculars hang from the head of Mule

 

   I grew up in a "black and white" world. Television sets and programs were in black and white, kitchen appliances were available in white only, All the colors of wheel were in an 8 piece box of Crayola Crayons.

 A movie was released "The Mask" where you were handed a pair of 3 d glasses to watch the movie with. While viewing through the glasses, it seemed as if the characters were just a few feet in front of your nose! I was overwhelmed by this extraordinary technology! I was allowed to see something...that really wasn't there!

 I held onto my souvenier glasses, believing that they might help me see other things that were not there! Ah! the imagination of an 11 year old! I kept the glasses in the top drawer of my desk. They were always ready at a moments notice. I used them to decode secret messages on cereal boxes, I used them to watch the black and white programs, feeling they gave color to the screen. A few years passed,and yes..late at night, when the house was asleep,...I used them to carefully view each image in my sacred copy of Playboy Magazine...making those women come to life! Superman had his cape, Marc had his glasses.

  Time passed,and on one very hot July day, I was cooling off at the swimming pool that belongs to the apartment complex I lived in. I can recall enjoying the refreshing crispness of the cool water, and the big blue, cloudless sky above. The sun beaming its rays across the surface,making my eyes squint. My attention was drawn to the diving the board, where the most beautiful girl in my universe was standing. She called out to her friends below. "watch me!!...Look at this dive!" I stared, and could not believe what I was witnessing....I could see right through her pink and white bikini!  I gasped, this was not a picture, I was not wearing those glasses, this was real!  She jumped in the pool with a scream! I held on to the side of pool, closed my eyes and murmered, "please....jump off the board again!"  

  That was the first and only time she wore that pink and white bikini, perhaps her mother or her friends saw the same thing I did.I just saw it with a great sense of admiration and an acute sense of provocation!

   Around that same time, my drawers were dumped.Many things I had carried with some type of childhood endearment were discarded...amongst them, those glasses.....the extra sensory powers that I had given to them had lost their significance. I was on my own...stepping into the threshold of adolesence.

Now, many years later, my glasses are back on....not the 3 d type, but binoculars...always keeping an eye on my past!

 

BLACK MAGIC WOMAN

....Along came an afternoon when the college gave us one of those days off. She invited me over to her house to spend the aftrernoon. When I knocked on the door, she opened it just a crack and commanded, "close your eyes or I won't let you in". Always an obedient one, I shut them tight. In the next instant she was fashioning a blindfold over my eyes. Speaking softly, "don't worry, I have a surprise for you" she said. She took hold of my hand and instructed me to follow her. She led me a few steps and then said, "there is a chair right behind you, sit down!" Then continuing with her commands, "I will tell you when you can remove the blindfold".

   There wasn't enough time to anticipate..this was so unexpected, like a person woken out of deep sleep. Then the sound of an erie organ chord began playing, the opening chords to Black Magic Woman by Santana..."OK, take the blindfold off!" I removed it and was simultaneously joined with the percusive beats of the song....and there she was...in a black leotard and black tights.....doing a modern jazz dance to the song!

Got a black magic woman
Got a black magic woman
Ive got a black magic woman
Got me so blind I cant see
That shes a black magic woman
Shes trying to make a devil out of me

A student of Modern Jazz dance, she sauntered, swayed, arched her limbs in a way that I had never seen.The suppleness of her feminity told me I was outmatched. A lump quickly formed in my throat, my rapid pulse kept it there.

On the last notes she moved ever so close to me, and with the finish she setlled herself in my lap., her arms lightly wrapped around me.

I applauded her with my smile.....the line of the song "make a devil out of me" resonated.

I invoked a French accent..."ooh la la, Pierre likes  your dance very much... I have a Swiss Chalet with a fireplace...will this madamoiselle like to join me?".... She loved Pierre, a romantic, French Playboy character that I had invented ..who always promised her the finest that the world had to offer...."wee" would be her pat reply....."Then close your eyes and we'll be there soon."

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These moments quietly flicker, like candles, in the deep recess of my mind. So many years later I am left wondering, did she really put a spell on me....as the song goes...

Got your spell on me baby
Got your spell on me baby
Yes you got your spell on me baby
Turning my heart into stone
I need you so bad, magic woman
I cant leave you alone.

Well....at least I left her with "Pierre".........