It’s hot. It’s humid.
It’s summer and the only thing to do is get wet, stay wet, and wait for the cooler weather to come!
It’s hot. It’s humid.
It’s summer and the only thing to do is get wet, stay wet, and wait for the cooler weather to come!
I have seen many plays that were interesting, but way too long. The producers had to fill out the required time for a Broadway play, whether or not they had enough good material. A lot of movies are also too long for the same reason.
To me, most action movies are no more than a series of barely distinguishable scenes of violence strung together from the opening credits and beginning “premise,” to an even more spectacularly violent dénouement. As far as I’m concerned, you could cut movies of this genre in half without altering the plot (what plot?) at all. But then, you might have a 47-minute movie which no one would pay to see. I would be one of the people who didn’t pay to see it.
This is particularly painful with comedies, particularly on television. Many sit-coms have a few funny bits and that’s it. The rest of the show just isn’t funny. In a perfect world, you could air an 18-minute episode because that’s all the funny material you had. You should be able to present the material that works, then call it a day.
For the most part, half-hour shows are only 21 minutes after subtracting commercial breaks. Take off another one or two for coming attractions and you’re down to 19 minutes. So maybe the problem is the really bad scripts? Maybe they only feel long because they are so bad? Or maybe they are so short, there’s no time to develop a plot?
I worry about this with blogs too. I have good ideas but I they don’t always add up to a whole post. So I’m simply going to present a few paragraphs from a couple of interesting articles I read recently.
First, apparently, babies and young children are ‘designed,’ by evolution, to seem cute and winning to adults to ensure kids get the maximum love and attention they need to thrive and grow. Infants’ big eyes, button noses, and chubby cheeks elicit a kind of primal bonding reaction in adults. So do the sounds they make and the way they smell. It’s a visceral, chemical, and nearly universal reaction.
Children start to lose those physically attractive ‘baby’ features around age two or three, so adults are hard-wired to respond equally strongly to the speech patterns of young children.
The way kids perceive and say things sound funny and charming to us. Their observations about the world seem irresistibly adorable. This phenomenon has a name: “Cognitive Babyness.” Studies show that between age two and seven, a child’s cute behavior replaces their cute faces in stimulating a caregiving response.
So much for interesting factoids. I’ll move to my next mini topic.
I taught Yoga and Meditation for eight years. I know the enormous benefits to adults — increased focus, attention span, calmness, control, and confidence. Also, decreased tension and stress, anger, frustration, distractibility, and fewer physical aches and pains. It never occurred to me that teaching some form of Yoga and/or Mindfulness into schoolchildren might have the same amazing benefits. \
Recently, I’ve read articles about these kinds of programs being taught in kindergarten through high school, all around the country. They have produced outstanding results.
The skills taught have reduced the symptoms in ADHD kids. Calmed children with anxiety disorders. Helped kids with learning issues, behavior problems, and social deficits. The same studies have shown improved grades, a higher degree of empathy and kindness between kids — and an enhanced enthusiasm for school.
Many schools have incorporated some form of mindfulness into the curriculum for teachers as well as students.
Way to go! Good for you! Over and out!
I have a friend who has three daughters, including a set of twins. They are now in their late twenties and early thirties. And they are all back living at home now. I was shocked to hear this.
All three girls have four-year college degrees. All three have full-time jobs. But none can earn enough to live on their own. One of the girls has a one and a half-year-old baby. The mom is no longer with the father, though he is still in the baby’s life. He also works but doesn’t earn enough to contribute to his daughter’s support.
What is going on here? What a tragedy, that middle class, educated working, young people can’t afford to live on their own without their parents’ support. It can’t be good for twenty and thirty-somethings to be living with their parents. It’s infantilizing and demoralizing. There also doesn’t seem to be any prospect for them to move out in the near future. This set up is not necessarily great for the parents either, especially if they want to retire at some point.
Starting wages today don’t seem to be high enough to pay for a home and even minimal living expenses. At least in New England, where I live. And this is even true with a college degree. Part of the problem may be that kids leave college with heavy debts that contribute to their financial dependence on their parents. So, it’s a vicious cycle.
And if you have a baby, the financial situation becomes exponentially worse!
My friend’s daughters are lucky that their parents can afford to support them. And that they didn’t already downsize their home. The kids contribute to the household, but not significantly. What will happen when my friend and her husband want to retire? They probably won’t be able to.
My friend is also lucky that she can work part-time from home. So, with the help of the other girls, they don’t have to pay for daycare or other childcare. This makes a big difference, financially. I know young people who pay a large percentage of their annual income on childcare – just so they can continue to work. This is also a travesty.
I don’t have any earth-shattering insights or solutions to any of these problems. I just got to see first hand what this economy and this society can do to young adults and their retirement age parents.
I’ve read about this phenomenon, but things affect you differently when people you know are involved. I can now put a face on this problem. It’s no longer an abstract issue, but a personal story. I’m shocked, appalled and depressed.
What will happen to whole generations? What will happen to our society? This is our future. And it looks pretty bleak.
One day (true story), my granddaughter told her father she would prefer that he would beat her because almost anything would be an improvement over another lecture.
There are times in life for children, adults, and dogs when your best bet is shutting up and pretending you are paying attention.
I haven’t written an introspective blog in a long time. I’ve written about things that have happened in my own life and stories about other members of my family. I’ve written a lot about the political situation in America and the social schisms it has created. I’ve written about my dogs and the weather and what I’ve watched on TV.
But I haven’t checked in with myself recently – and there have been some internal resets. Over the past six months, I’ve had some uncomfortable and inconvenient but not serious medical issues. I forgot how closely one’s mental state shadows one’s physical well-being.
Constant physical issues for months at a time can really take a toll, both mentally and physically. I was chronically exhausted. No energy for anything. That translated to demoralization and withdrawal. Doing anything outside of the house became a big deal.
I started believing that my life was seriously lacking in many ways. I fixated on those deficiencies and my glass suddenly became half empty instead of half full.
When I started feeling better physically, I could step back and see where my body had dragged my mind. I realized I had to turn myself off and then back on again. I had to totally reboot my attitude.
I realized that I am, in fact, fine as I am. My life is fine as it is. Is it what I wanted, ideally at this stage of my life? No. Is it where I imagined I’d be at my age? No. Is that bad rather than just different? No.
I wanted to be a grandmother by my age, with a life revolving to a great extent around my nearby adult child and my grandchildren. Many of my friends are ecstatic and devoted grandparents. But I’m not a grandmother. And the most likely child to give me grandchildren in the future lives in LA, 3000 miles away.
As a retired person, I expected to be part of an active and gratifying social life with my large group of local friends. But people moved away. My remaining best friends still work 60 hour weeks and have limited time to socialize. As a result, Tom and I spend a lot of time alone with each other.
But this doesn’t make my life bad or inferior or deficient. Just different than planned or expected. I can’t compare my life to other people’s lives. I can’t measure my life against my past expectations.
Am I actually happy spending most days at home with my husband and my dogs? Yes! Am I fulfilled reading, writing blogs and working on our Audio Theater Group? Yes! Do I love my wonderful friends spread all around the country plus England and Germany? Yes!
So I wake up happy every morning, looking forward to another quiet but satisfying day. I focus on what I have and who I share it all with. I’m good. I’m lucky. And I’m grateful. I just have to try to keep this positive outlook when my body throws me the next curve.
Sunday was the day to stay near the telephone, the computer too for that matter. Robert was not about to go anywhere before receiving his phone call. He always stayed where he could hear the phone. The computer was also a possibility for calls but in truth Robert only received one call on it and that was more in the way of a test. His son, Corey, set him up with Skype and then called him when he got home just so they could test it out. That was the only time Corey called him via Skype in the six months since their brief trial run. Now he either called on the landline or not at all.
Robert tried diligently to be a good father to Corey after his divorce from Corey’s mom. Corey was in his mid teens then and the boy seemed to follow the divorce with making his own plans and avoiding family obligations. Robert could never figure out whether this was a teenage thing or a reaction to the divorce, but either way Robert did his best to be a dad whenever Corey needed him. Corey needed him less and less as time went on.
Now that Corey was in his twenties, Robert and Corey had hatched a plan to keep in touch. This was more Robert’s doing, of course. If they did not get together on the weekend, then they would at least share a call on Sunday afternoon. The problem with this plan was Corey rarely called and he preferred that dear old dad not call him as he was usually “busy.” So Robert waited patiently in his small four room apartment for a call that was not likely to come. Perhaps if Robert had been more outspoken, even demanding, maybe Corey would be more dependable. At least that is what Robert thought. But it was not in Robert’s demeanor to be pushy so he waited patiently every Sunday for the call.
In Robert’s own mind he had convinced himself that waiting on Sunday’s was a good thing. It would keep him at home to take care of the often neglected chores. He did the dishes, made the bed, swept the floor, looked at all that junk mail he tossed aside all week, but he never took out the garbage. That would mean leaving the apartment for a few minutes and Robert certainly did not want to do that. What if the phone should ring and he did not hear it?
Finally in late afternoon on this super cold, super Sunday the phone rang. Robert was on it like a shot. “Hello,” Robert announced in his cheeriest voice.
“Robert, it’s Bill. How about we go somewhere to watch the game? You know, wings and beer!”
“Uh, OK,” Robert said reluctantly.
“Good, I can be there in a half an hour.”
“No,” Robert said quickly, “I am in the middle of something. Give me at least an hour.”
“Fine,” Bill replied. “I will be there in about an hour.”
In truth, Robert was not in the middle of anything. He just wanted to leave extra time for Corey to call. He never gave a thought to the possibility that Corey had already gotten together with his friends to watch the big game. He just figured that if he left too soon, he would miss his Sunday call. So he placed his coat, scarf and hat on a chair near the door and sat down to wait for Corey. Robert worried about missing the call and not having enough time to talk. He thought of the most important things he should say if they only had a short time. He thought of nice questions to ask, without prying too much into Corey’s personal life. After all, Corey was all grown up now and he needed to be treated like an adult. At least, that was the thought running through Robert’s head.
When just over an hour had elapsed, the phone finally rang again. “Hello?” Robert said tentatively, fearing it was not Corey but actually Bill again. “It’s Bill. I’m out front. Are you ready?” “That darn Bill,” Robert thought. “He’s always rushing me.”
“Yes,” Robert said. “I will be out in a minute.” “Poor Corey,” Robert mumbled. “If he calls I won’t be here.” Although he felt a little guilty, Robert threw on his outer wear and headed out the door.
When Robert got in Bill’s car, Bill immediately started talking about the game. “This should be a great game this year. The teams seem evenly matched. Whoever has the hot hand will win. It could be either one. What do you think?”
“Yes,” Robert replied. “I think so too.” He obviously was not listening to Robert, his mind was on Corey.
As they drove away, Robert did not hear the phone ring in his apartment. It rang seven times before it went silent. Robert never even knew there was a call as the caller did not leave a message.
I had a brief shining moment as a parent. I did something right. It felt right then and I still believe that it was right now. I even think that my daughter, Sarah, would agree.
It has to do with Sarah’s Bat Mitzvah, which took place in January of 1998. We started planning it in 1997, when Sarah was twelve. Sarah has always been a very organized, efficient person. She could reorganize her closet, on her own, when she was five. So, my brilliant idea was, why not give Sarah the lead in planning her Bat Mitzvah events! She loved the idea.
I gave her the budget and off we went to the invitation lady, the potential venues, the party planner, the florist, etc. Sarah got the final word on all decisions (after some maternal prodding and advice) as long as she stayed within the budget. That got tricky, which was the point of the exercise.
I remember, at one point, she fell in love with some fancy invitations. But, she realized that if she spent the extra money there, she’d have to cut back on the party favors for her friends. It was a carefully thought out decision. She finally went with the simpler invitations and the better favors.
She had to use a calculator to plan her menu. For table decorations, she decided to save money on flowers. So she used balloons and paper decorations to supplement the very basic floral treatments on each table.
It was an enjoyable as well as an educational process. Sarah took great pride in doing everything herself. She learned about budgeting, time management and other sophisticated organizational skills.
The event was beautiful and lots of fun. I think it also had more meaning for Sarah because the day’s festivities were a result of her own input and effort. She not only had a memorable coming of age party, she actually grew up a lot in the process.
I’m proud of Sarah for handling everything so gracefully, maturely and responsibly. I’m proud of myself for giving the reins to the soon to become Jewish “woman”. We both benefitted from the experience and Sarah blossomed. A+ for the Bat Mitzvah, A+ for parenting.
NO LONGER ENCUMBERED BY ANY SENSE OF FAIR PLAY, EX-JOURNALISTS RETURN TO ACTIVE DUTY TO FIGHT THE TRUMPIAN MENACE!
Writing & Coffee. Especially coffee.
Welcome to the Anglo Swiss World
Light Hearted Mysteries
Curiosity Ends Here
Fun, unusual and forgotten designations on our calendar.
Your second chance to be creative. .
To See More Clearly
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!
Fun, Fitness & Photography
...with a twist
Knows a lot & wants to learn a lot more
Highs and lows of life.
People, Places, Nature, LIFE!
explorations on the journey of living
Random musings on life, society, and politics
Independent blog about literature, philosophy and society in words and images
A Modern Mystery School
Martha Ann Kennedy's Blog, Copyright 2013-2018, all rights reserved to the author/artist
The Inane Ramblings of a Fractured Mind
Writing Down The Bones
my tales, travels and photography
by Taswegian1957 & Human59
Playing with dolls is not just for kids.
EMBERS FROM SOMEONE DOGGEDLY TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF IT ALL...
An unexpected retirement
the inward path is the way ahead
follow us as we write our way round the world
Happiness. It's relative.
Learning and teaching the art of composition.
age is just a (biggish) number
Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter
From the Poet's Heart