If Only ...

... computer Internet connection glitches hadn't occurred, the following piece would have been posted sooner. As I am writing how encouraged I now feel with being able to consistently access the Internet, I see the lights on my modem fluttering, losing connection, then connecting again for a short time. Seems my posting and commenting future remains a mystery.

The recent July 12th post about "What if ... If only..." elicited a consensus of thoughts I found to be of interest. I realized that commenters and I have likely already lived over half of our lives. So, we do have some experiences over a lengthy period of time on which to reflect. Thanks to all for offering your thoughts on this topic.

There seems to be universal agreement among us that we all wonder from time to time, "what if?" other choices had been made, or different events had occurred during our lives than what we actually experienced.

There may have been isolated specific events over which we had no control, that we would have preferred never happened, but we have adapted, assumed a learning perspective.

Sometimes we’ve made choices not in our own best interest, but we’ve made an effort to not repeat those same mistakes – no matter how many times we’ve had to keep trying.

Also, what seems to be true is that we don't invest in excessive thoughts of regret over our past life experiences, which I think is healthy.

Generally, we concur that whatever our experiences, they have made us who we are.

No one seemed to conclude that their lives would automatically have been better had other choices or circumstances prevailed. That, too, seems to me like a pretty realistic way to view life.

Our truth is we'll never know "what might have been," but we aren't going to expend our time and energy, or make ourselves unhappy thinking about "what if ... or if only..."

I believe such a positive view is significant, since I would surmise that many our age and older have encountered difficult times, had personal or professional setbacks, or what seemed to be so at the time. We should all be quite proud that despite all we may have endured, we have survived. Just as I drew strength from the knowledge of how my elders had coped with life experiences, perhaps those younger than us may be equally affected by our stories that we share with them.

I am reminded of a Stephen Sondheim song, "I'm Still Here," written for a 1971 Broadway musical "Follies."

This "Follies" production, viewed retrospectively, has been described by New York Times writer Barry Singer as a hallmark of Broadway's musical theatres past glories. The 2001 article, stimulated by a restaged version of the show, notes "Follies" embodies the death of musicals as once known, while at the same time heralding the advent of musicals as we know them today.

He also writes "Yvonne De Carlo, who, in the supporting role of Carlotta Campion, stopped the show nightly by singing "I'm Still Here," a song Mr. Sondheim wrote for her." Here’s a YouTube link to Yvonne De Carlo singing that memorable song at The Hollywood Bowl.

Mr. Singer also writes, "Old age is old age and I'm not going to go in a corner and pout about it," Ms. De Carlo said" by telephone from her California home. "Back then, all I thought about was, `How long am I going to be able to go on like this?' Now, I've lived through a stroke. I can't tap dance anymore. But then again, I never really could. I am, however, definitely still here." She continued to be "still here" until January 8, 2007.

The "I'm Still Here" song lyrics have been reproduced by June Abernathy who has accompanied them with brief comments explaining the colorful names and memorable historical events mentioned in the song. Some of us will make the association immediately with lines such as "Five Dionne babies," "Major Bowes," and "Windsor and Wally's Affair" along with many more.

Shirley MacLaine sang a poignant rendition of “I’m Still Here” in the movie “Postcards From The Edge” (1990) also viewable on YouTube.Other artists’ interpretations may be seen at YouTube.

My favorite version is available on a CD sung on "Elaine Stritch At Liberty" from her one woman stage show.

This famous Broadway entertainer's comedic lead-in line to the song jokingly takes liberties with her age as she entered her sixth decade in show business with voice at full strength at this CDs recording time.

I should acknowledge to having an “If Only…” fantasy. I do wish I could have been in the house on many an opening night during the years some have referred to as The Golden Age of Broadway.

But then, there have been a number of musicals since that time I would have enjoyed as a first nighter also. Seems there is always something to look forward to in life. I hope I never lose that outlook.

Internet Connection Glitches

Recurrent tech problems and out of town. New post sooner or later.

Phyllis Diller -- Happy 90th Birthday !

The first solo female stand-up comedienne I ever saw perform was Phyllis Diller in the 1950s. She had a somewhat outrageous appearance, offered a humorous perspective on life, that resulted in almost automatic laughter from her audience. Her jokes were often accented by her own "deep throaty laughter." She is thought by many to be "...a pioneer of female stand-up comedy" as noted HERE where you can read more about her and see a most recent picture taken in February 2007.

You'll read of her many movies, television shows, other talents, including the fact "Phyllis Diller has appeared as a piano soloist with 100 symphony orchestras across the country..." She, also, often performed with one of her favorite comedians, Bob Hope, entertaining our military troops on USO tours around the world.

She elicited many laughs describing life, including family interactions, sometimes portraying a fictional version wife and mother. She created characters many thought to be actual people, such as her husband "Fang." She said, even her real eventual ex-husband wanted to be thought of as Fang.

Some of her one-liners can be read at BrainyQuote including these about being old:

"You know you're old if they have discontinued your blood type."

"You know you're old if your walker has an airbag."

I have continued to enjoy her humor through the years. I don't recall being aware of any solo female stand-up comics until she came on the scene. The fact that she came from my home state at the time, and a city not too far from where I was living, pleased me that "local gal makes good."

She was appearing at a rather exclusive local supper club, Danny Deeds' The Maramor, where celebrity stars generally performed when they made appearances in our city when I saw her. I was elated when she agreed to make a guest appearance on the local live TV show with which in earlier posts I have mentioned my association. Subsequent years she usually made a guest appearance whenever she was performing in town.

I was always impressed with her manner as she had achieved international star status by that time, but made no pretense at being other than her ordinary self. She always arrived promptly at our studios unaccompanied, unlike some entertainers who came with a large entourage. She had the taxicab driver wait for her, then left after her appearance, equally unobtrusively.

Our station did not provide the luxury of a special room in which guests could relax with beverages and treats prior to their appearances, unlike television networks' "Green Rooms," but she didn't protest. Instead she was ushered into our other smaller studio that wasn't in immediate use. Each time she appeared, off camera she was very genuine, unassuming, friendly, what is sometimes characterized as down to earth. She often engaged in entertaining banter, likely as warm-up for her appearance, with any of us present, along with some of our technical staff who managed to find some excuse to come into the studio where we were.

Once she was on camera her quick repartee' followed by her loud laughter had our cast, studio audience and staff joining along with her. Our at home audience likely was infected with that same raucous laughing reaction as we were.

You can hear her laughter and comments by listening to an NPR "Weekend Edition" audio interview with Scott Simon, see several video excerpts from a documentary, "Goodnight, I Love You," and learn about her book Like A Lampshade In A Whorehouse.


One feature in her comic routines often made reference to her eccentric looking appearance. Her hair standing straight out from her head, looked as though it was electrified. She often humorously belittled her own facial features, especially her nose, not unlike the attitude of many women toward their bodies. Truth be known, some women probably responded with laughter to this self-deprecating humor as did I. Even then the worship of youth, facial and body perfection features was, and has continued to be promoted as the appearance to be emanated for all women at whatever the cost.

How refreshing it had been to see a woman overcome that idea by becoming a star, a celebrity, loved by many men and women world-wide. She went out of her way to not adopt the desired perfect appearance, or even try to approximate it. On some level, I always thought that was part of her attraction, certainly a focus of her humor.

I must admit to thinking she just might have let down all those women when some years ago I read that she had undergone plastic surgery to "correct" those "flaws" about which she had for so long humorously lamented. I suppose there are several ways in which to view her actions. For some women I expect they shared the same disappointment I felt that the face with which she had achieved stardom, at a level beyond that which many of near-perfect sculpture never acquire, had been rejected.

On the other hand, she was at least characteristically honest and forthright as she well should have been. Her appearance was altered, so to deny she had surgery as so many do, would have been unbelievable. She did receive recognition for her public revelation as noted in this biographical quote with picture HERE:
"She was recently honored by the American Academy of Cosmetic Surgery for having the courage to publicly bring plastic surgery "out of the closet." A 2007 photo of her is HERE.

One other view on the pros and cons of cosmetic surgery is that her body is her own, she earned the money her surgery cost, therefore she is fully entitled to do as she pleases. That's certainly a philosophy I support, that a woman's body is her own, as is the right to make decisions about the welfare of that body.

Still, I think there are wider implications impacting health care, cosmetic surgery and all who are aging as we all are. Some thoughts well worth considering have to do with the effects of perpetuating the youth-look as the ideal over a natural aging appearance. Regrettably artificially acquired youth-seeking looks may magnify adverse attitudes in our society toward aging. I have expressed my personal view on that topic in archive post (11/16/06) "Redhead Aging Naturally".

I respect Phyllis Diller's right to make the choice she did for her own cosmetic surgery. I continue to laugh at most of her jokes. I think she was a ground-breaking entertainer whose feat should make all women proud. I speak of her in the past tense as an entertainer, only because she is retired though she is obviously alive and well. I envy those lucky friends and family around her that I'll bet she continues to regale with her special humor.

Happy 90th birthday, Phyllis Diller ... and many more !

Here's a news item link I just located HERE. Seems we need to send a "Get Well" wish to Phyllis Diller, too, because she injured her back.

What If ... and If Only...

Occasionally through the years, in moments of contemplation, I've thought about how an individual’s life might be different from the one they have, based on circumstantial changes in their activities, events, residences, other variables, earlier in their life. What if, at various times, anywhere along the way, the twists and turns of choices and changes affecting them were made in directions other than the ones they did experience, thus leading to different outcomes or destinations?

I don't think about this for myself, generally, from a sense of regret. I think about it more from a standpoint of curiosity. I wonder how others view that question? I've thought, wouldn't life be interesting if we could just put on hold whatever our existence was at a given time. Then, we could go off on an alternate route, full well knowing we could come back to the place we were before, then resume life where we left off.

As for myself, I experienced events at five or six years of age I would like to have avoided on both a personal and family level. One that comes to mind is having the spokes of a moving bicycle wheel, over which I was sitting behind the rider’s seat, become entangled with my foot. The wheel spokes penetrated my ankle, though thankfully left me with only a large scar present yet today. What if... I hadn’t tried to find a foot rest for my dangling little legs, but instead caught my foot in those bicycle spokes?

What if, some other changes, experiences, relocations, in my life hadn't occurred? For example, what if... I had grown up in my birth city? What if... my birth family had remained intact? What if... my mother had not had some of the medical problems she developed? What if... I had been able to continue my music, dancing classes, attend the private university to which I aspired? What if... I had never lived for a few years in the country with my primary companion, nature? What if... I hadn't had to give away my dog when we moved?

What if... I had been allowed to accept the offer to ride a horse in an annual special western parade in a new state to which we had just moved? What if... a generous family member hadn’t offered to loan me the money to attend college in a day when scholarships were limited, student loans unavailable? What if... I hadn't made what seemed like foolish mistakes on occasion? What if... I hadn't had those instances in speaking when I "put my foot in my mouth"? What if... I hadn’t met some of the people I’ve met, or I had met some others I didn’t meet? What if... so many more "what ifs" that I could mention.

There is one interesting observation I've made over the years whenever I’ve heard most people engage in "What if...?" speculation. Invariably, whatever the past event or previous experience about which they are speculating, their assumption is, the result would have turned out better for them, "If only ...?"

Would my life have been better “if only…”? I wonder, do others ever consider the possibility the consequences just might have been worse when they envision their “What if…” and "If only..."scenario?

Our Nation At Risk

Two Hundred and Thirty-One Years

Our nation's birthday, our 231st, July 4, 2007, is past. Our citizens have celebrated this year, each in our own way, across this country. Many small communities from coast to coast sponsor patriotic parades, generally composed of local residents. This has been true wherever I've lived, in the east and now here in the west. In addition to the parade of the military representatives from all branches of the service, and those still living from the various wars fought for our freedoms, we generally see city officials riding by, the local high school bands marching proudly, antique autos being driven by their owners accompanied by festively dressed family and friends.

Often there are red, white and blue streamers colorfully decorating bicycles ridden by young people of the community wheeling down the parade route. Some older bikers may be pulling equally colorful wagons filled with smaller children. Special novelty groups often band together and march, such as the precision team brief case brigade, business and professional men and women with their brief cases in hand engaging in various maneuvers. Residents of all ages line the streets, conversing and laughing with loved ones, often waving miniature American flags, applauding or calling to those recognized marchers. Each community probably creates and gives some unique quality to their parade.

Some 4th of July celebrations this year may even be postponed by a few citizens until this coming weekend, since this day fell on a Wednesday, exactly in the middle of the week. Actually, I'm having such a delayed celebration myself, with dear friends whose family will be coming from far and wide as is their annual tradition. I have considered our family, and now that there's just myself, quite fortunate over these years to have been so generously included in some of their annual celebration of various holidays.

For most in our country our Independence Day celebration occurs on the fourth, however. Often when the parade has passed, some watchers adjourn to nearby parks or recreation areas for picnics featuring the special fare each individual group prefers. Others may return home for outdoor barbecues with invited groups of friends and family. Those with access to a swimming pool will cool themselves in those waters. The children and young adults will engage in seemingly exhausting pool play consisting of games, diving, just generally splashing around in the water. Some adults may soon tire of water game participation, retiring to sun themselves or recline in available shade. Young lovers may separate from the group seeking privacy.

Later in the afternoon certain groups may travel to nearby designated stadium areas where special entertainment has been planned. Musical groups may appear, then as the skies darken, the entertainers show concludes, the real show that everyone came to see begins. Fireworks slowly explode into grander and more spectacular displays in that golden moon and star sprinkled sky that mesmerizes those watching.

The times have changed from the days of my childhood, even from those of my children when we often had some small select firecrackers we could light ourselves. I recall especially the sparklers, and snakes. Fireworks can no longer be purchased or set off for private individual use in our community, or that of surrounding cities. This is especially critical this year due to the dryness so early in the season that has our area a high fire risk. I can't help thinking that fire is not the only risk, that not just our community faces, but our whole country.

As our nation begins another year, the very foundation of our belief system, that was the basis for the founding of this country, is under duress. The strong values and moral beliefs the founders of our country endorsed, wrote into our Constitution and described in our Declaration of Independence have been under assault from within. We have seen this in many ways during the governance of our current administration including, but not limited to, their stating deliberate blatant falsehoods, disregarding human rights, engaging in practices above the law.

If you were busy celebrating our nation's Independence Day, as many were, maybe you missed at least two special blog posts, there are others. I would highly recommend you read these July 4th posts now. They pertain to our Declaration of Independence, why our founders sought independence in the first place, and the significance of those issues for each of us today.

You may click on these links to access these July 4th posts at:

"Time Goes By" - "The Fourth of July 2007" by Ronni Bennett

"Nobody Asked" - "Whither Liberty" by Winston Rand

Sunday Afternoon with ZZAJ

…ZZAJ Music Infusion …

Our community has the good fortune to experience free concerts weekly that various musical groups are hired to present as mentioned in my previous post, "Music and Memories." On a recent Sunday afternoon one such group, known as ZZAJ, provided an enjoyable music infusion to the soul and spirit of those of us fortunate enough to be present. They didn't play just any music, but being extraordinarily talented musicians they performed some very special jazz including traditional, current and original songs.

As they describe themselves:
"ZZAJ is a contemporary music group offering a blend of Jazz, R&B and Latin styles."

The ZZAJ group consists of:
Rich Sumner, guitar; Joel Paat, keyboard; Tom Barnett, bass; Roger Gillespie, drums
with DiAne Gillespie as vocalist.

Their impressive musical backgrounds and experience can be read about HERE.

We enjoyed the music that afternoon as we sat shaded from the hot direct sun at large umbrella covered tables. The comfortably warm weather embraced the slightly cooling breezes dancing around us, as though drawn by the music. We listened, swayed to the sounds that some accompanied with rapid head nodding, others tapped a foot or fingers to the beat, as these professional musicians performed well-known familiar tunes plus their own compositions.

I enjoy their instrumentals, but especially appreciate the singing quality of their vocalist, DiAne Gillespie. She is a unique performer in her own right that I first heard sing last year. I'm quite impressed, as I was then, when she sings "God Bless The Child," a classic jazz tune primarily associated with Billie Holiday, "Lady Day," an icon of jazz vocalists. DiAne's special vocal expression makes the tune her own.

The group performed a recent arrangement of a favorite song of mine, "Louisiana Sunday Afternoon," highlighting DiAne's vocal skills as she emotionally conveys the longing feelings imbedded in the excitement of anticipation in seeing a missed loved one again.

She shared the story of an unexpected pleasure the ZZAJ group recently experienced at a local resort performance. The well known singer, Jack Jones, unexpectedly joined them on stage to sing with DiAne another favorite song of mine, "Love Dance." He has a solo CD album recording of that tune.

This is not an easy song to sing requiring challenging vocal changes, but when I heard her solo rendition again, I could only wish I'd had the good fortune to hear her duet with Jack Jones. Her vocal nuances with this tune clearly and effortlessly evoke in her audience the feeling sensations that exist in that dance that engages lovers around the world.

DiAne is also an accomplished artist who creates the group's CD album covers. Her picture titled "Rehearsal" reminds me of ZZAJ and groups from my husband's music days. That picture and others can be seen HERE.

I'll be looking forward to ZZAJ's continued future appearances on certain Sunday afternoons that others, too, can enjoy.

I find myself wondering what music genre most appeals to this blog's readers; if similar pleasurable quality music is as readily available where you are? Music feeds the soul, I believe. As an afterthought, I wondered who else might say similar words and discovered Laura Niles, classical violinist, expressing a similar idea at “Violinist.com.”

She has an interesting article with a link to the “…2007 Lifetime Achievement GRAMMY Award recipient and soul great Booker T. Jones” where you can listen to this accomplished rock and jazz musician.
Music forms are all connected to each other and to us, whatever the genre’.

Music and Memories

Joined with Computer Woes and Blue Flowers

At a recent regularly occurring informal musical concert I attend, the name of singer, Jack Jones, was mentioned.

The name reminded me of many years ago when he appeared on the TV show with which I was associated then. His coming to our studio was no small effort by him, as it meant he had to arise early for this live hour and a half morning talk/variety show. He had been up into the wee hours the night before singing in his own local engagement limited performance.

As with many artists who appeared on our show, he was generous with his praise of our musicians and vocalist. In fact, performers often registered enthusiastic surprise with the talent of our musical quintet and would ask to sing or play with them. They often told us later they had intended to graciously decline performing using the excuse of the early morning hour. For the singers they could cite concern for their voice health that early in the day, but rarely, if ever, did they, after they heard our musicians.

The subject of Jack's famous father, Allan Jones became a show topic. You can also read about Allan HERE.
Many older viewers at home, we learned later, had fond memories from their parent's stories or from their own youth of his Dad's celebrity. Our live audience had similar thoughts brought to mind as did our popular vocalist, Jeanne Cummins, who provided her own recollections, stimulating interesting, sometimes humorous conversation with Allan's son, Jack Jones.

Jeanne surprised me in July of '06, not having known earlier I had returned to town for a short time, by coming to the airport as I was departing from the city where we first met. Fortunately, I had an hours wait for departure which allowed us special moments together to talk about so much in so little time. I might add that after all these years she appeared vivacious and attractive, much as I had remembered her. I have since phoned her across the miles as I have a heightened awareness of how important keeping in touch and renewing contact with old friends can be for all.

When she was "Jeanne Bennett", she sang with the Bernie Cummins Band, later married his vocalist brother, Walter. Scroll down on her name link for her reappearance in recent years in New York City. The orchestra had played all the famous NYC hotels along Park Ave., 5th Ave. for dinner and dancing. Here's a U Tube video link of the band's 1920's era performances before she joined them.

When they had toured the country, after starting in Akron, Ohio, one frequent performance location was at "Pappy's Showland" located between Dallas and Ft. Worth, Texas. Thanks to Cowtown Pattie at "Texas Trifles" who surprised me about a year ago having located some interesting photos associated with "Pappy's" HERE. Pattie has a fascinating treasure trove at her blog and access to more that I appreciate her having shared on occasion.

Music was evolving into a quite different style from the twenties music, while Jeanne was singing with the band. It wasn't until the late 1950's that I met her as the family was growing and the road tours stopping. I was young and single, delighted to visit their home for moonlight ice skating on a frozen pond, thanks to her daughter loaning me her skates. A nearby bonfire provided warmth when the winter's chill penetrated our woolen wear.

I had the good fortune to work with Jeanne when she created a weekly children's TV show. She selected for the shows theme a relatively unknown song, "Put On A Happy Face," from the Broadway musical titled "Bye Bye Birdie."

The lead character of this Bye Bye Birdie was patterned after that new gyrating white singer who made rhythm and blues music more acceptable to a young white audience in a place and during a time when segregation reigned supreme, but this post isn't about him, that music or social transition.

I wish there was a recording of Jeanne singing this song for me to enjoy, so I might provide a link. I could only wish that we'd had then the abundant inexpensive technology that is available today. I'd have her voice on a CD or a music video. So I have to just use my visual and auditory memory to recall the pleasure of hearing this song, with a sample by a male vocalist available HERE.

I've found myself thinking of these lyrics from time to time, as some of the little annoyances, much as we all experience, have complicated my life. In my case, issues associated with keeping my lawn and other greenery watered became a problem along with a few other matters. Then just as all seemed headed toward resolution, my computer became contrary. I would indulge in what seemed to indicate relatively normal operating as I was able to send occasional emails, make a comment on a blog. Then when I thought all was clear for blog posting, more commenting, other blogging activities, suddenly all went awry.

Night before last, several hours last night, now in the early hours today I have engaged in that tech dance during which I met seven new people with various levels of tech knowledge through my outsourced ISP. They were all quite nice, helpful, ready to acknowledge when they had reached the extent of their skills to solve my problem, thus referring me to another. I had the usual need for some verbal repeats from some of my "problem solvers," as might be expected when talking with some people using a second language.

I have learned a great deal. I like to learn. That is a good trait for anyone learning new skills and using a computer. Yesterday my problem was diagnosed as a line problem. Last night my problem was determined to be my modem. They said I might need a new modem within three to six months; that mine had aged to the point of being ready to "die," or whatever they do. But they had fixed everything for the time being while this "dying" process proceeds. Several hours later as I was contemplating my choices, what should occur again, but "the problem." I thought, dying so soon?

I called for help and am now told that once again I have a line problem they will address. Meanwhile, I'm on a dial-up connection that seems none too steady to me as I watch one or two of the green lights on my modem fluttering occasionally. Maybe someday I'll get back to my regular irregular activities in the blogosphere. Meanwhile, those activities will be more regularly irregular, or something like that. Wonder if it's my ISP and I should think about a change?

Meanwhile, "back at the ranch," (as used to be said in the days of movie westerns,) in honor of resolving my grounds watering issues, I purchased a plant I have wanted for years. It's not expensive. This plant first caught my eye many years ago upon entering the city where I now live. I planted my drought resistant plant that has touches of tiny white flowers at the upper edge of the blue flowers and it's thriving. The flowers look almost the same as the fresh ones when dried. I especially like blue flowers and these remind me of the ocean. Also, I'm taking better care of my dwarf citrus than I have the past year. They are now in bloom in their half whiskey barrels. Maybe everything, including me, is coming more to life again in 2007 in a more calmed less hyper manner.

Just to see me through as I await resolution of my computer problems, I'll keep these lyrics in reserve just in case I might need them on any given day. Read them below and HERE, while I re-live in my mind the sound of Jeanne Cummins' happy lilting voice delivering the promise of these words:

Gray skies are gonna clear up,
Put on a happy face;
Brush off the clouds and cheer up,
Put on a happy face.
Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy,
It's not your style;
You'll look so good that you'll be glad
Ya' decide to smile!
Pick out a pleasant outlook,
Stick out that noble chin;
Wipe off that "full of doubt" look,
Slap on a happy grin!
And spread sunshine all over the place,
Just put on a happy face!
Put on a happy face
Put on a happy face
And if you're feeling cross and bitterish
Don't sit and whine
Think of banana split and licorice
And you'll feel fine
I knew a girl so glooming
She'd never laugh or sing
She wouldn't listen to me
Now she's a mean old thing
So spread sunshine all over the place
Just put on a happy face
So, put on a happy face

Conclusion of Brash Young Adult - Part IV

(This is the final part of the first three or so years of my early ventures into full time employment. Scroll down for those three successive posts immediately preceding the special one on "Friendship".)

Brash Brazen Young Adult

These stories of my ventures into the full time employment world as a young adult surprise even me. In retrospect there were more than I initially remembered, my actions seemed more than a bit erratic. Actually, I experienced those times as quite exciting while I was living them. I did also enjoy activities that allowed me some creative expression and social life during those years. While I tired of the routine nature of some of the tasks in my work positions, wanted new challenges, I generally appreciated the moment in my actual day to day activities. I also enjoyed most of the people with whom I was associated. This has been true throughout my life.

I have been able to see the value of what I've been doing. I have been able to refine work tasks when possible, so that each position became worthwhile for me while benefiting my employer. Despite all that, I just wanted to be more challenged in a less predictable environment, have the opportunity to contribute more creatively. Also, I wanted to know there was potential for developing new skills, possibly leading to new and even more desirable positions, to have experiences new and different to me; to believe that what I did mattered.

During these years and what must have been a lull between seeking other positions, I recall I also had an interview with what was then one of the major airlines. My motivation for inquiring about such employment was rather spur of the moment when suddenly the imagined perks of a lot of free travel became very attractive. Airline positions had lots of applicants, were glamour jobs in demand, partially for the reason of lifetime flight benefits. A few weeks later, a letter revealed no offer was forthcoming to me. I was only slightly disappointed, but my ego had me wondering what I was lacking, or if the competition was such there were just too many superior in appearance to me. Those were the days when airline coach travel was more pleasurable in comparison with today's flights. What coach passengers today experience is more like being compressed cargo, or virtually vacuumed packed baggage.

Back then, I had also answered a help wanted newspaper advertisement placed by an employment agency in a major metropolitan area that was a distant (by mid-western standards) two-hour automobile drive from where I was living. They were seeking a promotion manager for one of the television stations in their city. I didn't know much about that local TV because our area didn't receive any stations. There was topography signal interference and cable was just beginning to penetrate such areas. Later I learned the wanted advertisement was for one of three affiliate stations associated with what was then just the three major networks--ABC, CBS, NBC. The agency had obtained an interview for me at the TV station. Following that interview, when I received an offer, I thought, "I must get my 'foot in the door'," so again I too quickly accepted the position through the employment agency.

Then when I got home, I started thinking about that windowless room slightly larger than a closet, with a desk piled high with papers and more strewn about, which would be my office. I recalled the position had been vacant for some time, and thought about why they hadn't promoted from within or hadn't been able to fill the job. Common sense left me with apprehensions. TV positions were highly sought after with lots of competition, usually. Just to work at a TV station was often thought of by many people as quite glamorous work and many wanted to be part of that world. I knew the realities of that partially erroneous perspective. I pictured in my mind, again, that suffocating room environment, knowing I would not tolerate it for very long.

I knew that just getting my foot in the door of the business was important, but I decided I wanted a different door. Years later after becoming quite familiar with all those TV stations, there was no doubt in my mind that I had made the correct decision. Ironically, at a much later date, I had another opportunity to work at that station, but this was the second instance which I described earlier, where I turned down the job, due to the employer's love affair with the bottle which meant lots more work, little additional pay for me.

Back to the first offer through the employment agency. I thought, how silly to go through an employment agency that I would have to pay for finding me this job, when I had just learned there were only a few stations in that market, so why shouldn't I just apply directly to them myself? I did take some liberty when I expanded on the kernel of truth in the story I gave the employment agency for the station, as to why I must regretfully withdraw from that position. I have no idea if they had told the station yet of my acceptance, much less if they had, what the employer's reaction was to my change in plans.

The employment agency representative was very accepting and understanding of my withdrawal, but I'm sure they were not happy. I allowed considerable time to pass, then I sent my letters of application accompanied by a resume as I had begun doing, to all those television station general managers (including the local PBS) except the one where I had previously interviewed. I knew by now, it was the low ranking station of the three.

A resume was rather unusual for a young woman to have prepared and submitted at that time, at least as far as I knew -- something generally only male management executives did. I included samples of some of my commercial writing based on station sponsors I viewed, because by that time cable and television had come to our town. The resultant effect was that I garnered myself an interview at one of the stations where I ultimately was employed.

I have since wondered, whatever was I thinking and doing during those three to four years. My family was not in a position to underwrite me financially. If my bank employer had not generously kept me working, despite my, perhaps, overly self-confident attitude toward leaving, I realize now, I would soon have found myself in dire financial straits, as I had no savings.

Actually, despite all this, after I started work at the TV station weekdays, then drove home every weekend, my old employer invited me to continue working on Saturdays when I came to town. We had bankers hours then, so once the bank closed, at noon on Saturday, the bookkeeping department balanced all the bank accounts for the day, we were free to leave. Usually, I was home by one or two o'clock every Sat. The cost of my commuting was amply covered, in those days when the price of gas was considerably less than a dollar a gallon.

Before starting these employment searches, I had just completed the final payments on a private loan from another family member. Her generosity in those days before federally-backed college loans, had enabled me to attend college in the first place. No doubt this release from that obligation contributed to the euphoria I felt at finally being free of financial debt, coupled with the earlier freedom from emotional entanglement.

Perhaps the confluence of these factors had contributed to the beginning of my restless employment change dance. During those years, I was much like a skiff swept by waves on the rough seas crashing against the rocks in pulsing but erratic movement, forced out to sea, then back to a different spot along the shoreline, by the ever-changing tide of employment waters.

Ah, the brash, brazen, bold risks we take when young.

Story of a Friendship

(The final portion of my early employment years story will be posted at a future time. I felt compelled to write what follows, but oh, how I wish thare had been no reason to do so.)

Story of a Friendship

Our families met when she was in her early thirties and I was pushing forty. All of us sometimes gathered at a neighborhood pool on those late summer afternoons where we all enjoyed the outdoors, the light warm breezes that wafted through the air around us, and the cooling water. Our children became friends in those early years. We kept busy with our own separate activities, only occasionally crossing paths. She was teaching part time at a local college, completing academic classes in English literature toward her doctorate.

She had a special rapport with younger students, so was sought after each year to teach entering college freshmen writing skills they had been unable to hone adequately during their high school years. She had established her credentials as an outstanding instructor, warm, personable, a caring individual with a sharp keen wit, who was quick to laugh when the situation warranted. Her knowledge, teaching skills with young adults, and personality had resulted in her obtaining a steady position at a time when others did not, as she pursued her own higher education.

She could be demanding with high expectations for a student's performance, but also recognized their limitations. She was able to maintain just the right tenor in her relationships with students, sometimes having to tactfully cope with those who developed a crush on her. She gave every indication of being on a path that would allow her to successfully meet her goals and fulfill her dreams. Some of her dreams shattered years later due to circumstances not entirely a consequence of her actions.

But before those times, over the next few years our friendship grew as we seem to come into contact more frequently. Our trust and confidence in each other evolved, ultimately resulting in our recognition that on occasion we might have need of each other for additional support toward reaching our goals. By that time, I had returned to university classes as a student to fulfill plans of my own. One afternoon, I remember the frantic phone call I received from her. There had been a meeting of mothers to select volunteers to assume responsibility for various committees in our daughters' branch of a national girls organization.

Because my friend had not been present to explain her unavailability at that time, she had been appointed to head an activities planning committee. Her daughters were pleased and she did not want to let the group down either, though she was annoyed that someone else had confirmed her availability to do this in the first place, having not checked with her. This may not seem like much, but was the proverbial straw that could have broken our camel backs.

I certainly didn't have the time to take on those duties myself either, so for our children's sake we agreed to share the responsibility. I knew between the two of us, we would complete the task quickly and efficiently. We did so within several days or so, then we were no longer burdened with the matter. We only had to show up once a month to accompany the girls to each different scheduled activity location.

During the ensuing years there were times in both our lives when, having settled our children for the night, we noted our husbands were engrossed in their own interests. We would engage in our own studies, then one or the other of us would spontaneously phone the other to determine if a study break was being scheduled there, too. If so, we walked to a nearby restaurant for relaxing conversation, coffee and an accounting of how we each were progressing along this part of our life's journey. Yes, there were sometimes serious matters we discussed, but we always found something about which to laugh before returning to our homes, and often more studies, into the wee hours of the morning.

Then we were always up bright and early to send household members out the door to work and school. We had to think about and perform all the household duties, go to our respective classes, study, and in her case teach, too. There were other family responsibilities for each of us associated with parents. You could say, we were "sandwiched." Those were extremely hectic, challenging, times, mixed with periods of pure joy and happiness for each of us. Our families managed occasional varied vacation trips though not together. My friend's family often enjoyed camping trips driving off in their VW bus on their journeys.

As I write this, I am aware that last night at this very time, my good friend was making that final journey we all make at some time in our life. She was entirely too young to go on this journey. She was only in the early years of the second half of her life. Her youngest daughter phoned me from along the Atlantic seaboard across the miles this afternoon. I was quite unprepared to accept her words informing me of the finality of her mother's life on this earth.

Only this week, the thought had crossed my mind, wondering if my friend's California family had moved as planned to the Midwest, or if she might come west anyway, and we would manage to spend a few hours together. I remembered last year at this time she had phoned weeks earlier to express her sympathy when she learned of my husband's death, then let me know she would be coming later in the summer. I remembered just how much that time together had meant to me, though what brought her here was related to the death of her parent some months earlier.

During this time we had together, we had shared a humor predicated on similar type unique coincidental events associated with circumstances that occurred long after our loved ones deaths. We had each long since shed many tears, so we indulged our residual pain by engaging in a type of emotionally releasing humor that we could not have shared with anyone other than each other.

We laughed, then laughed some more. I held my side from the ache of laughter, leaned my head on my hand with my elbow on the table, pounded the table with my other hand as I was regaled by the real life story I was being told. I shared my own in similar manner. My friend and I shared a special bond in our ability to find humor in what to others might have seemed irreverent or even disrespectful to the loved ones about whom we were sharing memories. This was the kind of conversation I could only have with someone who knew me intimately and I them. This was the kind of relationship that had developed over many years, many confidences, many shared experiences, that rarely occurs with anyone known for a lesser time.

We had much history together, our families, each other. There had been additional sorrows, an earlier death, and other tragedies of life. There was a mix of joys from our children and more positive life experiences, we each had, along with some we had shared together. Our family members had gradually scattered about the nation those years ago. I had once given much time and energy to this friendship, but the distance of miles and changing circumstances had resulted in a lessening of contact between us.

Mostly our contact had dissolved to an infrequent once a year holiday greeting by mail, or that additional visit if she happened to come this way. We just seemed to be on different paths and I was quite preoccupied with my own activities as she seemed to be with hers. Yet, on each of her visits westward she always arranged for us to spend some time together and I made myself available. I didn't initiate contact other times, perhaps I should have.

When we did talk, I skirted asking specifics of her day-to-day life, nor did she volunteer them. She carefully painted a rosy picture in generalities and I left the matter at that. She did not die from any intentional deliberate act, but then she did not have a traditional terminal illness or disease, either. I don't think she consciously meant to die. I think she died of heartfelt pain from within, deep inside her, not associated with any one individual other than herself. I think she ceased to love herself.

Heaven only knows, had she sought love outside herself, there had always been an abundance of that available wherever she looked, had she wanted it. She had the admiration of adults and students, love of family, love of friends, but she self-destructed. I cry for her, for her family, for all those who knew and cared for her, for all those who will now never have the opportunity to know her. I will miss her.

Onward Brash Young Adult

This extended story of my first years of full time employment is happening over a three to four year time period described in the previous two posts about the actions of this brash young adult.

An opportunity for me arose at the local radio station owned by the same family who published the local newspaper. I interviewed, then accepted the behind-the-scenes position at that station. A couple of weeks before my start date, I became aware that the owner/employer with whom I would be working, had a rather serious debilitating habit. Now I was no prude, but this was the first of two instances during my early employment years when I avoided desirable positions offered to me because the individual with whom I would be working reportedly had a serious social problem that came in a bottle. My reasons were based simply on the fact that confidential information had been provided to me indicating that I would be doing all the work there. Much of the time I would be covering for and doing that person's duties and my own for little pay accordingly, and that person would be reaping all the financial benefits.

I phoned that new employer-to-be, told him that I would honor my commitment to accept the position, since it was so close to my scheduled start time, but I thought it was only fair to tell him that after a period of time that I would seek employment elsewhere, probably out of town in television. Now, television wasn't too highly regarded by radio people then, since fear abounded in many that radio listeners would abandon radio to become TV viewers. Radio would die as broadcasting employees would simultaneously lose their jobs. I had literally waved a red flag in front of the bull, so to speak, which likely escalated his anger toward me, because he did become more than annoyed. He, of course, did not know all of the factors motivating my decision. He, also, likely resented being placed in the position of having to accept me under those circumstances, or needing to hire someone else.

He tried to convince me of the folly of my intent when his position had so much to offer me. I was firm in my conviction which escalated his outward expression of displeasure with me even more. I didn't mind his anger, since my forthrightness allowed him to save face, essentially forced the withdrawal of the offer, which is what I wanted in the first place.

By this time, I was feeling a bit guilty about having withdrawn from positions I had accepted much too quickly. I was beginning to realize I was allowing the enthusiasm of the interview moments to affect my reactions. Also, affecting my actions were my concerns that if I didn't act immediately the job would no longer be available to me. I just was not giving the positions ample consideration before accepting or rejecting offers. This kind of behavior was not in keeping with what I believed to be a moral imperative, which was to honor commitments, not back out on them once made. Throughout all this, I was creating dilemmas for myself. There was little doubt how the employers felt as each, finally, vitriolically informed me that if I ever wanted to work for them again they would not be favorably disposed to hiring me. Their words were in considerably stronger terms.

Years later, as news of our nation's first manned flight into space emerged, I thought, just think had I accepted employment at that college I would probably eventually have met their famous alumni, astronaut John Glenn.

I had already given notice and a final employment date to my present employer at the bank. After they learned of my change in plans, I did not rescind my resignation much to their consternation. I remembered the previous conversation with them about future opportunities for my career progression. I pictured that glass ceiling still hanging pretty low, so I knew I would leave there.

Despite all that, my employer at that time ultimately did seem pleased I was still around, and asked me to stay on there despite all my machinations, though I hardly viewed them as such then. In all my wisdom, I knew for my own well-being I needed to leave that town. So, I politely declined, saying I was leaving sooner or later. They must surely have thought I was crazy. They accommodatingly said I could continue working until I actually had a position to which I could go.

Somewhere in the time frame of all this, I answered an ad for an interesting sounding position in the northern part of the state by one of the Great Lakes. There was a distance problem for me as I would not be able to drive home quickly and easily, if needed. There was no commercial airport in town, but then air transportation was not used as readily as is done now.

I was invited for an interview, so drove up the day before, stayed overnight in a hotel, entertained myself the night before by going to a movie premiere of "South Pacific." I quite enjoyed the story, the music, everything about this show. This trip alone to a new and distant city was quite a rather adventuresome undertaking for a single young woman such as myself in those years. Questions would be raised about a single young woman seen out and about, especially at night, in the minds of most men, and many women, too. You can be sure very few, if any, of the young women in the town where I was, would have done such a thing.

The next morning I had my interview. The only thing I remember about the actual event was that it was with some new publication hoping to capitalize on the television mania sweeping the nation. They hoped television viewers would eventually subscribe to this weekly publication that was named TV Guide.

I wasn't really interested in celebrity stories and gossip, though I had met a few such individuals who peopled the then considerably more limited entertainment news, so expect that attitude came through loud and clear in my interview. They said they'd let me know of any offer after they completed other interviews. Obviously, they weren't concerned I wouldn't be available if they didn't hire me on the spot. Ultimately they didn't offer me a position. I can honestly say I wasn't disappointed.

Employment life went on at the bank, I continued to be restless, and searching for a special employment niche I hoped I would recognize on sight. Then, what should appear in a newspaper from a more centrally located metropolitan area, but a "want ad" for a position at a television station. I'd better save that until next time.

Glass Ceiling for a Brash Young Female Adult

My Brash Young Adult story published here June 1st, provided an account of my introduction into the full time working world.

This is a continuation of that story which includes a dispelling of some youthful ideals. I was a bit reckless following my own standards, but then I learned the older adults were, too, in the interest, I suppose, of what they believed to be justifiably good business practices.

I could not quell my restlessness that resurfaced not too long after that frustrated employment change effort I first wrote about. Once again I sought to satisfy this need for more challenge in my work by seeking employment at a different business, but locally. They said they wanted to hire me, but had to resolve some issues beyond my control.

Little did I know, there was an unwritten understanding among the major employers in town, national companies, banks and other establishments that they would not hire employees from each other. If they did hire another's employee, I expect they wanted to be certain that competitive salaries didn't enter into the mix. This was the matter my prospective employer had to resolve with my then employer.

Because of the efforts of my previously described employer-guardians, as I now thought of them, (one was the son of the company president, the other my immediate supervisor,) they prevailed upon the president of the company to act in a manner I would want. I could not believe it when I heard, that this top national company official, of the second largest corporation in the country in their line of business, had met with the president of the local bank, where I had applied for a job. I was told they had to discuss my situation, agree they would let me change jobs, then establish there would be no hard feelings between them. I began later to wonder, just how far such business management networks extended.

I was allowed to change employers, but unfortunately, once I mastered that bank position, I immediately wanted something new. I inquired about the opportunities for my advancement now, considering I had been one of the two first women they had ever selected to attend special banking classes. I was among the top performers completing that class that was now no longer gender limited to just males. The question to my bank vice president employer was, what other positions did they have for me, coupled with increased salary? I indicated a willingness to pursue additional education and training they might require.

Imagine my disappointment when I learned just how low "the glass ceiling" for a woman was at the bank. Any move would be, at best, basically lateral, or would consist of a title and little more. Even that wouldn't happen until someone then in that position retired. Plus, that would be as far as I could go there. I was already frustrated to know I was making considerably less than my male, married with children, co-worker, who was employed after I was hired. This clearly illustrated my gender as a college educated woman (he didn't have any post high school education) and my single marital status with financial obligations of my own, were hardly assets deserving of a higher pay range. They were, possibly even liabilities for me.

About that time, a change in my personal life resulted in ending an "affair of the heart," as certain relationships are sometimes described. This added momentum to "my restless nature" surfacing once more. I became very discontented, making successive arrangements over a period of time for several employment changes that I later cancelled each time, a couple of weeks before I was to start work. One was a position I had accepted at a college some miles away to which I had planned to commute, together with a younger acquaintance who had simultaneously been hired at that same institution.

After accepting my position, on a first meeting with her parents, I was told how pleased they were that she would be with me, with words to the effect I was being viewed as being responsible for her well-being. This was a responsibility I did not want. I had enough of my own. So, for that reason and other second thoughts, I withdrew from that employment position, assuring her she would do quite well without my presence.

I stressed the opportunities she would have to meet new and interesting young people her age with wider interests than those she knew in our town. Additionally, she could begin to pursue a college education. That wasn't enough motivation for her, I guess, as I learned later she withdrew from her position, too. I know the high level university administrator for whom I was to work was more than a little unhappy with my decision. I was angrily told that if I ever applied for employment there again, I would not be looked upon favorably, to put it mildly.

I could have conducted myself better in these employment pursuits, and resolving my various personal issues. I certainly did subject myself and others to considerable drama. I blithely proceeded ahead during this early period as a young adult, but I was not yet finished creating complexities in the manner with which I was directing my life.

Then, an opportunity for me arose at the local radio station owned by the same family who published the local newspaper, but I'll save the portion of this story for later.

BRASH YOUNG ADULT

One of the interesting aspects of aging is that over the years we generally tend to become much less brash, brazen, and reckless, reducing risks in our actions, compared to when we were younger. I guess this is probably a positive state in which to be as we get older. Perhaps I should have become that way earlier. Nevertheless, when I think of some of my youthful actions, I find myself not at all remorseful over what I did. That's not to say I recommend young people today should model themselves after me, as the consequences of what they might experience could be quite different now.

I've often wondered what stories others might have about their own youthful brash and brazen behavior. My story started with feelings of dissatisfaction immediately after college graduation. I uprooted myself from tentative plans for career pursuit due to a sense of obligation pertaining to my mother's welfare. Thus, I found myself moving some distance to another state, ultimately into a very small community, where I knew no one, nor did she, for that matter.

I successfully sought employment there, though hardly of the type of which I wanted to make a career. The promise of working with the advertising and sales promotion manager who hired me, expressing an intent to help me develop further writing skills in the areas of his expertise made my position palatable. After a learning period developing my position's basic skills, practicing these same skills for a relatively short period of time, the work quickly became incredibly boring. To make matters worse my employer was so overwhelmed with his own responsibilities, as he worked at home to 2 a.m. and 3 a.m. many mornings, the expected special training he intended to provide me, understandably never materialized.

I became so dissatisfied, coupled with the fact that other opportunities in that town were so limited, I desperately answered an advertisement for a position which would take me out of town quite frequently. This was hardly a wise move at that time in my life, on many levels, other than this was designed to help me retain my sanity.

My employer seemed extremely sympathetic and sensitive to my needs when I told him of my intent to leave his employ. He arranged for us to meet with his good friend and immediate superior, a vice president and son of the president and primary founder of this company. They tactfully intimated that talents well beyond the artistic variety might well be unofficially expected of me by some male business leaders in some towns where I would be sent by this new employer. I was not completely naïve, just very anxious for reasonable change in my life. They cautioned even my artistic skills would be unreasonably tested.

I agreed to visit a nearby town, unannounced at a public fund raising theatrical performance comprised of a cast garnered from local people. Producing such events was to be the primary function in my proposed new position with the new employer. I could see for myself another person in the same position I was considering, perform some of the public skills entailed in the job.

They, in turn, arranged for an appointment with a former university instructor of theirs at a private university that had been my unfulfilled childhood dream to attend. He also worked professionally in a manner to which I aspired as he commuted to NYC, moonlighting in broadcasting assignments. I am forever indebted to having had my welfare taken so seriously by these employers-turned-guardians, and their efforts made on my behalf. After visiting that nearby town, witnessing a theatrical debacle of which I knew I would never want to be part, I remained in that original position. I had reconciled myself to staying a while longer in town.

HAWAII LANTERN FESTIVAL

Memorial Day 2007



The Hawaii Lantern Festival is in progress as I write this. I imagine the evening to be much like this brief highlighted version of the annual commemerative event last year. As darkness falls, the lanterns will slowly float out to sea honoring the spirit of so many no longer living. On this particular evening, for our family, the names of loved ones, so recently with us in body and spirit, will be launched from the shoreline to ebb seaward.

Here is a link to closeup pictures of the event, lanterns from the
2006 Hawaii Lantern Festival you can view by clicking on the arrow above the photos.

This a Memorial Day annual event that a local Honolulu station, KITV-TV, will televise. Reportedly, one week later, the program will be aired on the Internet.

My sincere wish on this day is Peace for all.

TV Days Memories & Glass Ceilings for Women

This is a continuation of memories and thoughts stimulated by a preceding post “More Movies” in which I ended the piece with observations about one of the movies I had viewed being a sometimes overlooked suspenseful psychological thriller.

I will repeat here some of my comments with a quote from an interview in special features on “The Night Listener” DVD with the book’s author, Armistead Maupin, on whom the movie’s lead character is based.

“…I was intrigued by some of Maupin's observations about the world in which we live today and how we frequently find ourselves in virtual relationships. He talked about how we "...have constructs about the other person that are often more about what we need than what that person actually is and we fool each other by mutual consent in order to get what we want." Interesting thought for those of us in the blogosphere.”

And now … TV Day Memories …

Glass Ceilings for Women …

The classic for me along the psychological thriller line, as for many people, was "Psycho" and Janet Leigh in the shower scene. Here's a bit of behind the scenes humor I learned recently
about the filming of that scene for the movie trailer. Seems another well known actress may have been coerced into playing that role for the filming of that trailer as retribution for her earlier withdrawal as the lead actress in another of this director’s movies.

Before “Psycho” many years ago, I recall seeing a movie that may have been "Cat People."
This was the first and only movie, that quite unnerved me, until "Psycho." I was haunted, literally for years, after exposure to some of that movie’s cat scenes. My horror film aversion developed then.

I recall when "Psycho" was finally first released in movie leasing packages for airing on television stations. I was working at a TV station during that time when movies were carefully edited to allow far fewer commercials than today. Film editing was seriously taken to minimize disruption of the mood and storyline with commercial scheduling sometimes adjusted, even omitted, for a film judged to be of top quality. Movies then were not made to accommodate the time schedules for television showing to end on the hour or half-hour, unless specifically edited to do so, unlike many today. There was little or no TV cable service, much less all movie channels. Old movies were shown for night owls, shift workers just returning home, those who just couldn't get to sleep in the early wee hours of morning.

Also, more serious consideration was given as to the time of day and/or evening when some movies would even be allowed to air, in consideration of younger eyes and ears. The expectation also was that parents used some influence on the viewing habits of their children to enable them to develop some critical judgments about what they viewed, that still seems like a good idea today.

Our station had acquired a certain number of runs or airings for "Psycho," so, it came to be one afternoon, unbeknown to me, the time had come for the engineers to follow-up on our film director's careful editing instructions on "Psycho." Knowing of my sensitivity to this "Psycho" shower scene, and on what must have been a dull afternoon for those engineers, they contrived to lure me into the edit room where I was treated to the shower scene, audio, video in all it's gory glory. My imagination created the rest from the stimulation of a stabbing knife, running blood, a collapsing victim, and that instrumental eerie-sounding music segment. To say that I became unnerved would be putting it mildly. I just could not help myself, to their great delight, since this was probably the only time they ever got the best of me in such a manner. Keeping one step ahead of their pranks took some pretty fancy dancing footwork, let me tell you. Of course, when all was said and done, that was a fun and enjoyable time of my life and the guys were a great group with which to work.

These thirty to forty engineers were all members of the IBEW (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers.) At that time B&W television cameras were huge in size and heavy in weight, were mounted to a cameraman’s eye level, then the mount on wheels had to be pushed around on the studio floor (see the evolution of the floor camera size in pictures HERE at the site of a then major powerhouse electronics manufacturer.)

Cameras became even more cumbersome when we went to color. In both instances there were large circumference thick black cables spread out all over the studio floors during our live programming. These cables came under the province of engineering, to be moved only by them. If the cameraman's responsibilities were such he was unable to do so, then clearly another engineer needed to be hired was the classic view. This increased the costs for producing programs and commercials. Cost containment was always of concern to programming, production, sales, sponsors and managment.

The cables often needed to be pushed out of the way so guests wouldn't trip over them. If the need arose I could with some slight effort readily push the cables aside with my feet (couldn't touch them with my hands.) This was more than welcomed by engineers and all production crew members as an incidental little act, a quick convenience for all concerned, since I was there in the studio, responsible for the welfare of guests and audiences and a multitude of other tasks required of all in a station of only one hundred or so employees. Periodically, though, union contract negotiations with management would occur. Sometimes they could become quite contentious. I was young, new and these engineering guys carefully protected me with a reminder that no one could touch the cables, not even with just their feet but them during this time, or a grievance would be filed. That was my first experience with labor unions.

This was the late fifties, early sixties. It did not escape me that there were no women in their ranks, nor until someone slightly older than me, who later became my good friend, returned at the behest of a male supporter to our NBC-TV affiliate station in her home state from then network offices at NYC’s ABC-TV did we have a woman in the control room. This was one of many glass ceilings in various professional areas of which I had been aware. I challenged them first hand as best I could in my limited way. I am quite confident pressures brought to bear by many women of that time, with the support of numerous men, resulting in some limited success, laid the groundwork for the gains from which later generations of women have continued to benefit.

The gains of these later generations of women, to some extent, are a matter of timing and when they were born. The time was ripe for break through and those in later generations who have done so were quite fortunate to have been born into the generation they were. For anyone to fail to recognize groundwork laid by this earlier fifties generation, and the one before them, and the part birth timing played in women’s gains in the sixties and later, or to fail to accord consideration of these older women’s contributions is simply ignoring reality.

The fact there continues to be a disparity of income between the sexes would suggest the women of today should not be idly resting on their laurels, but pressing ahead, enlisting the support of fathers, brothers, other males who understand and support the women in their lives, much as increasing numbers of those in earlier generations have for their own benefit and the benefit of daughters, granddaughters, all women to come.

MORE MOVIES

"East of Eden" was the recent opening feature of weekly Saturday Night movies hosted by Martin Sheen on one of my favored viewing PBS television stations, KCET-TV channel 28 in the Los Angeles area. I remember seeing the movie many years ago with James Dean in his very first starring role. I thoroughly enjoyed that movie adaptation of John Steinbeck's novel.

Jo Van Fleet in her role won an Oscar as Supporting Actress portraying an unorthodox character pivotal in the lives of the family in this story.  [Up date 3/7/13 to John Steinbeck biography at "Nobelprize.org" replacing the original link that discontinued publishing, another that requested removal.] 

Richard "Dick" Davalos created a significant contrasting character role as one of the two brothers with Dean in this classic Cain and Abel story, with an especially memorable action scene by Davalos that resulted in devastating personal consequences for their father, portrayed by Raymond Massey.

The youthful Julie Harris demonstrated her versatile acting skills caring lovingly for each of these family members as she partially compensated for needs resulting from her own family situation.

I rarely enjoy watching movies more than once because they seldom ever re-create the same feeling and reaction for me as the first time I saw them, but I did rather enjoy seeing this one again. Perhaps if I was in the movie business, and wanting to analyze various aspects of the production I would view it forty or fifty times as I've heard some directors say they've done with movies to tease out specific threads for analyzing various aspects of the whole production.

Having made plans to watch this movie, I then decided a special indulgent bring-in menu for the evening was in order. The restaurant considered my Italian salad, spaghetti with marinara sauce, two large meatballs and garlic bread a take-out order, but it was bring-in for me. Also, before the movie started, there’s nothing like throwing a little laundry in the washer to create a sense of doing something constructive while indulging in self-gratification. I accomplished a lot that night, even had half of my bring-in order left over as I just can’t eat that much at dinner.

I decided to add a couple of DVD rentals to my viewing plans, including "The Queen" starring Helen Mirren in her Oscar winning role. This actress has been a favorite of mine from years ago when she first appeared on the U.S.A. PBS television viewing screen resulting in my awareness of her in "Prime Suspect." She's one of those few individuals who populate the world of acting that stimulate me to view whatever they appear in, because I can be pretty sure the role they play will be well acted as likely the whole production will be, too. I was not disappointed. I found myself wondering how closely the character she created paralleled the person she portrayed? We only know our own perceptions from outside Queen Elizabeth's world, so I wonder what the real Queen would say about the approximation of the character Queen to the real Queen's reality during that time surrounding the death of Princess Diana?

The other movie I selected to watch was "The Night Listener" starring Robin Williams, creating the character of Armistead Maupin. Given the fact that this psychological thriller was based on Maupin's real life experience, as written about in his best-selling novel, with some dramatic license reportedly taken, the story became even more fascinating.

In the special features section of the DVD I was intrigued by some of Maupin's observations about the world in which we live today and how we frequently find ourselves in virtual relationships. He talked about how we "...have constructs about the other person that are often more about what we need than what that person actually is and we fool each other by mutual consent in order to get what we want." Interesting thought for those of us in the blogosphere.

As I thought of psychological thriller movies (some, I learned are actually considered horror films, a genre that I generally avoid,) one that I've enjoyed viewing over the years, "Night of the Hunter" came to mind, starring Robert Mitchum. Roger Ebert's review superbly describes this outstanding movie. That's the story where the villain has the words "love" and "hate" on the opposite knuckles of each hand. You may see almost 10 minutes of YouTube's video of "The Riverboat Scene" here:



 

I did not think the remake a few years ago remotely compared to the suspense of the original movie. My imagination responding to my own thought creation usually expands exponentially on created tension, anxiety, suspense. These are the factors that I experience as being most effective in movies such as these. I find that usually the effort to inject realism with graphic visual actions incorporating blood and gore does little toward enhancing the quality or overall effect of the scene. These added visuals become much less effective, even distracting for me, than what my own thoughts conjure. Regrettably, movie makers didn't listen to Betty Jo Tucker at "Reel Talk" as she lists a number of classic movies that Hollywood should never try to remake, including "Night of the Hunter."

I recall watching a movie a few years ago that was a remake but can't recall the title.  There was such a protracted over-long scene with the villain constantly resurfacing in the water again and again and again, when we were supposed to think he must surely be dead by now, that the ending gave a bad name to even melodrama. That ending surely made a joke of that remake for me, becoming all too anti-climatic, as the writer, director, producer or film editor just didn't seem to know when to stop. This was a river/water ending of another thriller/horror movie I saw some time ago that was too much of a bad film sequence which was disappointing to me. 

Fortunately, the movies I viewed in this marathon were entertaining, even provided some interesting ideas about which to think.

Writing about this experience stimulated some additional thoughts, reference to "Psycho," that will be posted later in: TV Days Memories and Glass Ceilings for Women.

WE NEED TO TALK

End of life directives are not enough, since we never know when we may be faced with serious issues associated with continued living, dying and death. We don't even know which issues might confront us -- where, or at what age. There may be decisions to be made about loved ones, or ourselves to which we've never given adequate thought. I have periodically encountered some of these various issues for a number of years both personally and professionally.

One experience from numerous others proved to be among the most challenging I've had professionally, while simultaneously being the most satisfying. The satisfaction was largely due to the fact the individuals involved were so open, honest, and most important, comfortable discussing the issues of continued living, dying and death with each other and those, such as myself, with whom they needed to interact.

I was comfortable in that situation and have been in others because of my own experiences with loved ones. I attribute this largely to my mother. She fostered such communication throughout my life in such a warm accepting manner without belabouring the issues. When life issues were at the forefront of decision making for her with me we were as prepared as we could be, though I'm not sure anyone is ever fully prepared for the inevitable when that time comes. We certainly can make the preparation easier for ourselves, loved ones, dear friends, enriching all lives in the process.

In my most recent experience, I was engaged in daily weekday sessions for about two months or so, with a couple who were involved in examining quality of life issues, considering ending alternative ways for sustaining life by means other than eating and drinking by mouth, use of supplemental oxygen for breathing. They were assessing their choices in terms of the means to safely continue life versus risk associated with using or not using these alternative methods.

The pros and cons of compromise for safety versus a desired life style was the basis for their considerations. The major questions centered around how best to receive nutrition and hydration, by mouth or other means, but the former also meant living apart from the healthy spouse in a more restrictive nursing supervised setting that might also lessen the risk of serious life-threatening health issues, or could even prolong life.

The greater risk was present by returning to a prior shared spousal living arrangement in a much less nursing supervised setting that also necessitated receiving nutrition and hydration by mouth. That placed the spouse at significantly increased risk of potential terminal health problems. What if the spouse's health became worse; would they want then to revert to the surgery again so he could resume alternative life giving support?

One of the references provided this couple is a booklet (also available in Spanish) I do recommend that was written by Hank Dunn called "Hard Choices For Loving People" that provides practical information regarding "CPR, Artificial Feeding, Comfort Care, and the Patient with a Life-Threatening Illness."

My involvement with this couple initially was directly related to maximizing an aspect of the ill spouse's physiological functional safety impacting their decision process, but I was drawn in by their clear desire for my inclusion in all of the matters. I had no hesitation in being included in their process as I always respond to the individual with whom I'm interacting as a whole being that encompasses their mind, body and spirit.

So, I responded in such a manner as to facilitate their conversation, sometimes just listening, other times asking thought stimulating questions, always providing them the real facts of his functional condition based on my assessments and perceptions in the area of my expertise. I made no effort to influence their choices or project on to them my own beliefs.

They made numerous plans from the certain to the uncertain decisions, only to rescind them, then alter them again as the ill spouse experienced changes several times in health status across a fluctuating full range framework with sometimes a promising, and other times a not so promising prognosis. Culmination of this whole process occurred in an ethics committee meeting with the couple, where they reiterated their thinking, then fully expressed their final decision with the clear knowledge that we all understood and respected their choices.

Living and dying issues are not always simple, even when advanced directives are
present, which is why I believe we need to talk more freely about this topic throughout our lifetimes. As I reflect on this whole experience, I recall this couple's disappointment
with the loss of intimacy from which all lives would have been richer, when they recounted their interaction with friends and loved ones. They said often those closest to them did not know how to talk with them, were uncomfortable with the subject matter on such a level, or simply could not allow themselves to discuss the topic of dying.

The Los Angeles Times featured an article by James Channing Shaw, a physician at the University of Toronto, in their February 28, 2007 Health segment, in a "My Turn" column that was titled "The acceptance of death can be a gift." His thoughtful comments relative to the choices some individuals encounter include:
"I would have to question whether an extra year or two of life would be worth the potential suffering that goes with treatment. Patients should be respected for thinking the same."

What also comes to mind is a post at "Time Goes By" written by Ronni Bennett titled "Fear of Death" I found the ideas expressed there quite powerful and meaningful. So did the couple about whom I've written here, after select writings, including that one, were shared with them at their request. I was particularly impacted, as were they, by that portion of the piece about half way through the post that begins:

"We fear not being. And that fear -- the most primal of fears -- is built into our DNA."

Later Ronni Bennett writes:

"...most people have made it taboo to speak of death in ordinary conversation even though it is the central problem of life. Have you ever tried? Even your friends will say, "oh, don't be morbid" and change the subject."

This is some of what the couple to whom I refer experienced. They were realistically facing the facts, others with whom they most cared were the ones with whom they wanted to speak of some of these matters, but were unable to bridge this conversational gap.

I find the specific matters in that post discussed above of most significance to the focus here. However, that whole "Time Goes By" post addresses even broader issues that bear serious consideration. I think these are all matters worthy of contemplation for both young people living for their future, middle age individuals determining how they want to live the second half of their lives, and older people engaged in enjoying their lives to the fullest. We all would be wise, as Ronni Bennett wrote there:

"...to pay attention to the changes the later years bring -- to see them, feel them, think about them and to talk about them and the mystery of life."