Monday, March 18, 2013

TECHI I'M NOT

TECHI I'M NOT

Today was a day of either hitting the wrong keys or just plain not knowing how to communicate.  Strange, if you are thinking of buying something usually you only have to push a key and you are immediately in contact with 4 pages of addresses who can offer you many varieties and prices for the very same thing.  If you want specifics, knowing the firm's email address is essential and other than calling the business on the phone I haven't apparently found one Google recognizes for this particular item.  So guess what....    I finally just called the company direct on my land phone and left a complete message as to what I was requesting.  Of course when one calls the company you have several extension nos. to choose a specific person or subject.   Then like as not you are asked to wait for the tone and leave a message.  And you eliminate Google.  Frankly I was considering a separation which would involve as much emotion as a marriage.  (I exaggerate)  But seriously, are we making a preference for machines over people?

So we are into my own future of bells and whistles which I only imagined as a child.  I can easily make contact with numbers of people in various countries who are interested in similar subjects.  Wow! I can even play bridge on-line with partners across the sea.  I can get information on any subject that I want to study anytime.   I can see the person I am speaking to.  I can send videos of what I am seeing or photos.   And sometimes someone in another land decides I would be a soft touch and tries to make a bad sell.    BLOCK is the word we use.  Yet your own doctor, you are lucky to speak to much less have more than 15 minutes.   So many patients and so little time.  And not another Medicare!  You know there are many examples of care for the poor under charity systems.  Most of these like the old poor house my parents used to show us children as they drove by the Provo bench, and the other charities connected to churches or specific groups had their own rules as to who "were deserving poor."  I digress.  Please excuse me.  Its the social worker coming out of retirement again.  I hear that we will in the future communicate directly with our Doc by computer.  Or maybe the computer will be the Doc.  doing diagnosis, surgery and the whole sheebang.  

Yesterday the hubby & I played golf with another twosome we had just joined.   I was happy just to keep up with three guys who were such gentlemen and gave me lots of space and encouragement.  At this time of the year my drives are good, my fairway shots are fair,  but the chips and putting put me in disgrace and high scores.  I guess grey hair gives you a bit of leeway AS WELL AS THE FACT THAT YOU NEVER EXPECT TO BE A PRO.    My friend, Janet, and I signed up for a fund raising competition.  We have joined together on several competitions and usually we have done well.  Most of all it is the laugh=joke=cry over the course of the day's play.  I consider myself extremely lucky just to be out on these spectacular courses surrounded by desert beauty.  RED HILLS has over 127 women who each is  fascinating in her own way.   Over the years most of us have played other courses in this area and now are finally choosing to play with a nine hole group.  A reunion of sorts.  Usually one good hole, a chip-in, a birdie, or a par can raise one's spirits even if the final score is a wash-out.  I like to watch the golf channel and the new players heading the leader boards.

I would like to encourage my grandchildren to play golf.  My grandson does, but the two granddaughters are too busy raising the greats to take time off.  We each have our time to play etc.
I plan to make the most of it  and hope they will have the opportunity someday.



Friday, March 15, 2013

THE IDES OF MARCH

Now that daylight saving time is here I am almost asleep at this computer.  Dawn in the desert brings an alertness to silence and the gradual awakening of a bird, or a dog, or distant cows in their corral.  The red rock crevises and shadows fall away gradually to growing lighted clouds and individual sun rays that shoot across the valley.  More green on the mesquite trees, some budding under dry leaves of last years lantana, and yellow buds force their way atop leaning cactus.  Utah agave and mormon tea appear to have survived again.

We plant less these days and Ed has become the major gardner, overviewing the drip system, the plants that have wintered over under the garage window and those that must be replaced outside.  A cold, cold winter was 2012.  For the state as an entirety and don"t mistake this as a complaint.  Water reservoirs need what little moisture this cold and dry snow has given.  Snowplows, snow blowers, shoveling and spreading salt and sand were a major factor in our move south.  Some visitors came over the last two weeks to get respit from the clogged northern Utah air and repeated snowstorms.  Brother Gary and his wife Julie, and following them, daughter Pat, granddaughter Lisa and great grandchildren Jude and Leland Forester.  Jude is a thriving running young man who can be both a challenge and a joy.  His little brother, all smiles and chuckles, is content and quiet.  We found a grand play ground over on Dixie Drive.  Whoever planned the site for children must have brilliantly noted the fire station directly across the road.  It may have been wash day for the fire trucks that pulled in and out of that station all shiny and bright.  A great safety factor for climbing kids and a major attraction for them to watch.  So much fun for us all.

Sometimes the mailbox nearby makes up somewhat for the lonesome aches that begin as I watch their cars pull away and hear the gravel crunch as they back away from the house.  Today was a marvelous surprise.   Among the huge, normal amount of travel brochures and envelopes was a very large manila folder addressed to me.  Not a free lunch offer for attending and investment seminar as I first thought, but a pulitzer prize winning story from a new writer, undoubtedly talented, imaginative and bright.  Ava, Ava, Ava.  Her first production at age 8.  The Girl Who Loved Music ,  illustrated and also
 written by her for me, and "she hopes I like her story. "  Like it?  I treasure it!  Her story has a plot, a protagonist, action, emotion and a conflict resolution.  The happy ending while a fantasy reflects every young performers wish for stardome.  Not at all bad for budding author.

We have four great grandsons, Slade, Cruse, Jude and Leland.  Ava is (to this point) the only girl and she also helps guide and play with the boys.  She is incredibly talented and I am so proud of her.  One can only hope that these years for us will be filled with all that these youngsters can produce.  The boys chase geccos and bunnies when they are around the desert.  We are thinking a miniature horseshoe pit and over to the Sand Hollow pool as they visit again.    They keep everyone of us on their toes and their knowledge of computers, phones and ipads amazes us.  Getting older is a gift that keeps on giving.  

 

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Women Lost

I am so happy to be reminded and informed by the NPR recent reviews of the women's liberation movement both in Utah and across the nation.  I recall the day of the Utah  Womens Conference I was making a presentation at the University of Utah where I was then attending class.  After I finished, a board member of the Utah Division of Alcoholism and Drugs(where I worked) approached me and enquired as to whether I was going downtown to the womens conference which was being held at the Salt Palace.  When I said yes she said I might want to reconsider because there was going to be a huge confrontation as bus loads of women were being sent in from all over the state to confront the push for ERA.  I was surprised and somewhat shocked.  I knew and had worked with some of my colleagues who were in the planning stages.  My own role was simply to talk about the growing and unusual rates of Utah women's use of over-the-counter and prescribed drugs.

As I walked to the doors of the conference hall I observed gatherings of women, lists on paper which I assumed had something to do with the agenda, and occasionally men who stood amongst the women discussing the various subjects.  My own small group presentation was filled and the women were respectful and had many questions.  Most of their worried concerns were to object to family therapy which they believed could be destructive.  My goal had been to get them to consider their own independent thinking with regard to purchasing, selecting and depending on drugs and to talk to their physicians more about the reasons and the effects of those prescribed.  The up-side down result was that they seemed to blame the physicians for the existence of their drug problem.  If he or she prescribed then that was obviously what they should do and they were not to blame.  Whatever.........

Well I don't know what Beverly White, Karen Shepherd and some of the other great women are doing who faced off during those times are all doing to day.  Still working I hope.  My daughter and my granddaughters and my great granddaughter I hope will and have benefited from those efforts.  My husband was surprised to think that after all these years ERA has never been passed.  I never marched, I never threw away my bras.  I think I read the Feminine Mystique.

Soon to be an Octogenerian, I told Ed that I should name my blog, Octopussy.  He said that has already been taken.  I am so behind the times.  So many years, so many tears.  I said to one of my dearest friends, I hope, in 2016, to vote for Hillary Clinton.  I would not have voted for her before but I am reading a book about her by Bernstein, and it has changed my mind.  I will vote and I would like you to think about it.

Her comment. _" I don't think I will be here in 2016 to vote."  Our generation is passing.  Hopefully we  have passed on attributes to our kinswomen that they can be what they want to be, Senators, Mothers, Housewives, Lesbians. Marines;  and that they and all women contribute immensely to this life we live.

Friday, February 22, 2013

February 22, 2013  GUN CONTROL?

Something about this month or this season comes out of the clouds.  Maybe the legislature on Capitol Hill.  Been thinking of a letter to write on gun control which they could think over as they push on those bills.  Difficult for me emotionally and professionally.  Sometimes I think our USA has been conquered by terrorism.  Imagine wanting to own a gun army caliber and force in part because you are afraid our government will require insurrection.  Do these people vote I wonder!  The constitution gave that right as well.  And registration and background checks?  God forbid that they should be a senior asked to take a day each year to relicense as a driver, to prove you have been a native law abiding citizen in this country since the day that you were born.  Also please get your annual medical statement from your doctor to assure your physical/mental capacity to remain a safe driver.  And get that car, that means of destruction on our 80 mph freeways, inspected each year to assure its drive-ability.

My sadness:  A background as a teacher, a mental health therapist, and a governmental employee convinces me that there are reasonable and necessary reasons for guns.  But there are excesses and dangers because of purposes of intended use, whether their use and care and safety precautions are kept, whether mental and physical health of the owners doesn't need to be reviewed periodically.  From my professional perspective I would want to ask the person buying the assault rifle or heavy magazines of bullets why these purchases interest him.  Am I violating his privacy or is he violating mine.  I am pleased that my neighbor is a retired police officer who knows how to use guns.  I don't own one and I have not had one in the house since my only son was killed in a hunting accident at age 22, the fall before he would have graduated from Weber State College.  He was the only grandson of George Francis LaTullipe who served on the Salt Lake City Police Force.  A career officer who saved his own life and that of a fellow officer when he shot and killed a most wanted felon from Canada being taken in for questioning on a minor offense.  So Mark was raised as a toddler that knew his grandfather had guns, wore hostlers, he knew dangers and he was a boy who excelled in many activities including hunting and survival training.  But accidents happen and forgetting to safety the pistol before it is handed to another and is dropped resulted in his immediate fatality.  I was relieved he died quickly from a severed aorta and bled out in minutes.

When my son was 4 and his sister 2, I removed them from a neigbors yard in Roy, Utah.  I had been able to observe them from my own home but we needed to drive to Salt Lake City that morning.  My neighbor was sad to see them leave her kids and requested another little girl to come to play.  Less than a half an hour later we heard there was a shooting in Roy, Utah in which a 7 year old boy carrying his father's pistol out the front door discharged the gun and the bullet ricocheted through the car port killing the new playmate who had just celebrated her 5th birthday a week or so before.  Tragedy follows guns.

As does money and politics.  Our country militarized quickly for WWII.   From peaceful manufacturing to support heavy military support.  The world has changed, as have we, as have companies.  NRA has changed.  Corporate lobbying includes the gun and ammunition industries.  And a sinking economy torn between building a peaceful loving nation and continuing in world leadership and growth presents monumental needs for cautious, thoughtful government.  I have great respect for those women and men who serve and are assuming these tasks.  Yet.....I would not visit a legislator on the floor of the Utah senate or house if I knew he or she was packing.  I always felt armed guards at the Capitol Building were competent and trustworthy in the past.  I would not have become a teacher or have carried a gun into a school room.  I loved my students.  And as a therapist I became aware of patients who used guns, colllected guns and I knew of patients who had shot at therapists.  But As The World Changes is no longer a daytime soap.  We have changed.  Perhaps we have met the enemy and it is us.

Sorry to burden with this lengthy spillout of thoughts and emotions.  I am sure you have your own thoughts as well.  But isn't that what blogs are for?