A Dream Shattered

When I was growing up in the South, there were basically two types of neighborhoods:  White and Black.  There wasn’t much mixing it up unless you were black and employed by whites.  Those were the days of segregation…separate but unequal restaurants, motels, drinking fountains, schools.

Pretty early in life, I understood intrinsically this was wrong.  When you’re a child and being inundated with Christian and American values, how does segregation hold up?  For me, it was impossible to rationalize the obvious discrepancies.  I knew I had to leave the South.  I wanted to embark on an adventure that would open other worlds for me.

At age 16, I took a train by myself to visit friends on Long Island.  This was my first trip to the Northeast and I was enthralled with the accents, dress, hairstyles.  New York City!  Museums, Broadway, taxis, Macy’s elegant holiday windows.  But, what I really remembered was Greenwich Village.  This was 1963.  I saw my first interracial couple.

After graduating from Florida State University in 1969, my new husband and I moved to Massachusetts.  What an education for me!  First, I was shocked that people upon hearing my accent assumed I was racist!  Second, I learned the Northeast was pretty much as segregated as the South….without the overt Jim Crow laws.

There, the neighborhoods were even more segregated due to immigrant status.  There were Italian neighborhoods, Irish…French…Lithuanian…Romanian…German.  You name it, it had a neighborhood.  I remember when I was in grad school, living in New Britain, Connecticut, walking into any grocery store and never hearing a word of English.  I didn’t even recognize what language it was….not Spanish, French, German.  Later, I learned the area was an Eastern European enclave.

I eventually became one of those urban pioneers…white people moving into black neighborhoods, hoping to integrate schools through housing.  We wanted to help create a more diverse culture for our children to grow up in.  As long as groups and races are separate, a culture of fear of the unknown exists, persists, and thrives.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work where I lived.  There was too much crime, too much intimidation.  Neighborhood associations tried to accommodate the different groups and promote harmony but just couldn’t.

During this time, I learned about Jim Rouse’s experiment:  Columbia.  A planned community founded in 1967 where all races and socioeconomic groups were welcomed and accepted.  A community built on the village concept.  Each village contained a shopping area and schools, surrounded by apartments, condos, townhouses and single family houses where anyone regardless of income could live.  Coventry, Connecticut was trying to clone it but never did.

After my divorce in 1973, I eventually found Kevin, my best friend and confidant, who I married in 1982.  I had a 12 year old daughter, who I did not want to send to any city public high school and private school was financially out of the question for me.  I was also sick to death of New England winters and the fact is, we knew only one other couple in a biracial relationship.

When we had our son, we made the decision to leave.  Kevin was from Silver Spring, Maryland, so Columbia seemed like a place we should visit.  Before meeting our realtor, we walked around the Mall to get an idea of what the atmosphere and culture were like there.  As trite as this sounds, we were blown away by the diversity that already existed there….black families, white families, Asian families and interracial families galore.

This was an obvious choice for us.  We both wanted our children to grow up in a town that was inclusive, welcoming and academically challenging.  We hit the jackpot!  Howard County schools still rank as one of the top school systems in the country.

Our youngest was born in Columbia seven months after we moved.  Our kids grew up on a street with 40 kids around their ages.  Every afternoon, they were playing street hockey or basketball or soccer.  The place was a regular United Nations with Vietnamese, Indian, French, Middle Eastern, African American and several biracial children.

The Columbia Mall was our Main Street, our town center.  It’s where we went for lunch after soccer games.  It’s where the kids rode the merry-go-round on Saturdays.  It’s where we bought their first pair of shoes.  it’s where we went for brunch after their baptisms.  It’s where my oldest worked at Le Baguette for years…where my son worked at Panera and my youngest worked at The Lang Store.

It’s where we called home….our refuge.  I cannot tell you how grateful I am for Jim Rouse and the little bit of heaven he created for interracial families and for all families in his great experiment, Columbia.

I grieve that we have had our dream shattered.

Eyes On the Prize

It’s cold here in Florida.  Of course, that’s relative.  Florida is where us Northeasterners come to escape winter.  A real winter….like sub freezing temps and snow and ice storms.  Here, we just have 60 degree days.  Occasionally, we get close to freezing nights where people put sheets over their plants.  Buff Honey and I are tough….we’ve never even turned on the heater.

Last January, we had a ton of 80 degree days…we were the envy of our friends up north.  So much so that they decided to come down and spend January here.  Unfortunately, not too many beach days this year.

But, so what?!  We can still party, right?!  Five couples happy to shake those winter blues, sitting around noshing, drinking, and sharing our stories on aging.  Seriously, doesn’t that sound fun?

Does anyone sleep together anymore?  Sleep patterns are all askew.  One has to go to bed at 9 to read and fall asleep.  The other has to stay up ’til God knows when and then can’t sleep.  Some have to have white noise.  Others can’t stand it.  Some have to fall asleep in front of the TV.

Most everyone has some form of sleep apnea….not kidding here.  Most go through the nightmare of going to sleep centers where they put 50 wires on your head and then tell you to fall asleep.  Right.

Who could wear those sleep apparatuses anyway?  I know I could never sleep with that thing on….I’d be fighting claustrophobia all night long.  Sleep?  Not on your life.  The choice is feeling suffocated or dying in the middle of the night.  I’ll take Plan B.  Just the way I want to go….in my sleep.

And, then, there’s my mother who can drink a cup of black coffee, crawl into bed and be snoring in 30 seconds.  Do I have to wait to my 80s to get back to real sleep?

When the ‘girls’ get together, it’s all about our sagging boobs, chin wattle, unsightly necks, crepey skin.  My personal issue is with my hair.  I used to be one of the hairiest women I knew.  Tons of hair on my arms…at least, it was blond.  I had to shave my legs and underarms almost daily.  The hair on my head was so thick, it would take four hours to dry.

Now, I’m constantly patting the sides of head…what happened to all that hair?  I guess an upside is that it’s curlier and takes almost no time to air dry.  Rarely do I have to shave.  In fact, I don’t think I have any hair on the back of my legs.

Sometimes I wonder if I had cancer again and had to get chemo, would my hair ever return?  I guess that’s a minor question relative to surviving the disease.  Just get a good wig.

I ponder what my life lessons are supposed to be and I know one of them is vanity.  I also know I haven’t mastered that lesson yet.  It’s just a fact.  I don’t judge myself…another life lesson.  I’m not a saint.

I go back and forth about cosmetic surgery.  I say, if you will feel better about yourself, then just do it.  But, then, I think….can’t you feel fine about yourself without altering your appearance?  That’s rather hypocritical coming from me as I’ve already had my eyes done and I am very satisfied with the results.

This time of the year, all kinds of articles are being written about staying committed to those New Year goals, especially when it comes to health and wellness.  Change your lifestyle…stick with it….promise yourself a big prize!

AHA!!!  A big prize?!  Like a facelift??!!  I like it!

Movie Day

If it’s Tuesday, it must be Movie Day.  All you seniors out there know it.  Especially you cinephiles like Buff Honey and me.

Ya gotta love Frank’s Galleria Cinema here in Venice, where long lines form early for that $5 ticket and $5 senior snack pack of small popcorn and drink.  Cheap, cheap, cheap.  We never miss a week!

I admit I’m a movie snob....no action thrillers, no horror pictures.  Don’t love science fiction or animated films.  I abhor violence.  I can’t take anymore slavery movies or holocaust movies.  I know, I know, it’s important to remember our past so we don’t repeat it.  Got it.  And, I agree, but I got that lesson a long time ago and now if I see that kind of violence, I can’t sleep for days and just feel sick that people can treat others so horribly.

BH, however, doesn’t have those hangups....although he will pretty much ignore the one star or no star movies.  The great thing about Frank’s is that they show pretty much everything!  Even the independents...a rarity for most big theatres.

Now is one of my favorite times of the year.  The awards.  I know it’s cheesy and ridiculous to pick one movie out of great movies.  Really....can you choose the best child out of your own tribe?  Of course not.  But, I still love the excitement of trying to predict the best...or more to the point, will they agree with me?

That’s hardly likely since I rarely pick a winner.  I’m sure this year will be no different.  Now, the nominees are coming out....Academy Awards tomorrow.  Golden Globe winners were announced Sunday....if the producers of these events would just let Tina and Amy host all of these shows, the ratings would be astronomical!

I have a couple of favorite movies this year.  Loved Muscle Shoals.  It’s a documentary so I guess that doesn’t count; but I’m a blues and southern rock and roll lover and seeing that live footage and interviews with the under-knowns that made it happen was awe-inspiring.  I could see it over and over, especially in a theatre with fabulous sound.

Dallas Buyers Club moved me more than any other film experience I had this year.  It’s heart wrenching yet courageous.  I’m sure it probably affected me more profoundly than many people because of my direct experience with AIDS. but haven’t most people by this point, had a connection?  Matthew McConnaughey lost nearly 50 pounds and was nothing less than brilliant.  Even more impressive was Jared Leto as the transvestite, Rayon....he as a she was beautiful and vulnerable.

When they both won awards at the Golden Globes, I jumped out of my seated with joy!  That will probably not repeat at the Academy Awards but what an affirmation for their performances in a truly gritty movie.

Saw American Hustle last week.  Extraordinary ensemble...David Russell, director and screenwriter, is again fearless in this fictional comedy based on the ABSCAM scandal of the 1970s.  You won’t even recognize Christian Bale, he’s so bloated...or for that matter, Jennifer Lawrence who’s so hilariously brazen.  I need to see it again.  There’s just so much there.

Did not love Her, but BH totally disagrees.  Futuristic.  That’s my problem...just too grounded in the present.  Joaquin Phoenix plays a sad introvert who writes beautiful prose for a living but can’t convey emotion in his own reality.  Gradually, he falls in love with Samantha, a computer operating system, who becomes so real to him that he brings her on double dates and totally loses it when he learns she is dating 3000 other people and is in love with 691 of them.

You can definitely see Spike Jonze’s point as you walk on the street and see hundreds of people texting on their cellphones.  Are we losing the art of conversation or relationship?  Geez....I really hope this is not our future!  Of course, it won’t be my future as I’ll be checking out long before that happens...lol.

The Wolf of Wall Street.  A Martin Scorsese production...ya think??!!  Completely over the top in every conceivable way.  I read one interview where Leo DeCaprio and Scorsese would ruminate about whether some of the scenes were too much.  Believe me, nothing was vetoed!  A three hour movie?  I love movies but around the two hour mark, I’m ready to move on.  I can honestly say I was captive for the entire time.

Didn’t see 12 Years a Slave....just can’t handle it.  BH thought it was the best movie of the year.  He also thought Gravity was excellent...too out there for me.  Too science fictiony...too suspenseful.

Suspense is just not good for me....or the people around me.  I get so scared I jump in my seat, grab BH and throw my popcorn into the air.

Better that I see something totally inane like The Millers or This Is The End or The Heat, where I can laugh my head off!

Hey!  I never professed to be an intellect!

Beginning Anew

It’s a new year....again!  How joyously I can report that!  I’m alive and so are you.  What fun!  And, so what did you do on New Year’s Eve?

I can honestly say I’ve made it to midnight every year of my adult life.  However, I am not one to drag myself to Times Square or to First Night or any of the other big events that require mobs to celebrate.

I’m one to stay home....or to celebrate quietly with a few good friends cooking lobster or steak and reflecting on our hopes for the coming year.  Sometimes, I’ve watched the TV entertainment.  My sister loves Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin.  I never even knew they had a show on CNN.

There was always Dick Clark, right?  You know you watched it, too.  Millions just like me.  Then, he had his stroke.  Did that stop him from ringing in the new year in front of millions?  Noooo....  Okay, on the one hand, you have to celebrate that he wasn’t going to let something as catastrophic as a stroke stop him from taking center stage.  That’s admirable, right?

But, on the other hand, didn’t someone tell him how difficult he was to watch?!  I hated to see my American Bandstand idol slur his words.  It was nothing if not disheartening and I could only take about five minutes before switching the channel.

This year, I watched nothing at all.  Buff Honey and I sat in our respective chairs reading our current books and around 11:30, we eased ourselves into the hot tub for a nice, relaxing soak.  Ahhhhh.....a glass of wine and some dark chocolate....perfect.

What are my hopes for 2014?  Last year, I was determined to lose weight...15 pounds.  Is that so impossible?  Well, I didn’t and I think I even added a couple.

Of course, this is soooo ridiculously common that I hate to even write it.  I’m making changes this time.  I learned I can’t drink and lose weight.  I can’t snack at night and lose weight.  I can’t skip my daily 30 minute workout and lose weight.  I can’t eat sugar.  I can’t eat processed or fried foods.  No fast food.  No chips or fries.  I have to be totally honest on my LoseIt app!

Then, I’d like to sell my house in Maryland....doesn’t help that a pipe burst in the garage a couple of days ago and it’s still only 13 degrees there today.

I’d like to have my osteoarthritis disappear...no more achy hips and knees...no more popping iburpofen and tylenol.  I’d like my chin to reappear.  What happened to my formerly angular face?  All soft and round now.  Who is that woman in the mirror?

How is this year going to be different from last year?  For one thing, I’m meditating every day.  I used to only meditate when I know I’m going to write but the benefits of meditating are limitless.  Fifteen to twenty minutes every morning.  It gives me energy, a softer outlook, insights that are so close to us but that we often miss because we’re so involved in our busy-ness.

Yesterday, after meditating, I just gave up being anxious about my house.  This is a short term problem.  This, too, will pass as my mom used to say.  I can’t obsess about this.  Do I love giving up half my income to a place I don’t live in?  A thousand times no but it won’t go on forever.

I need to volunteer more.  In Maryland, I worked for Hospice, which meant a lot to me (although I hated having to get flu shots!).  My brother works for a homeless kitchen in North Carolina several times a week.  He really makes a difference.  I’d like that again.

I’m grateful for being nearsighted so I can read to my heart’s content!  I just finished The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt.  784 pages.  Really.  I had never heard of her but the Washington Post raved about this book.  That’s double the number of pages I usually read.  I took the plunge.

In the first chapter, an eight year old boy goes to an art museum in New York City with his mother on their way to meet with the principal at his school.  She’s killed when a bomb explodes in the museum.

His alcoholic father left years before, his grandparents want nothing to do with raising him.  He’s on his own with the huge hole in his heart that had been filled with his mother’s love.  It’s a devastating intro.  It was difficult for me to get into because it was so painful.

But, I did.  And I was rewarded with some exquisitely philosophical prose.
 “That life--whatever else it is--is short.  That fate is cruel but maybe not random.  That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to grovel and bow to it.  That maybe we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves in it anyway, wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.”  

For me, the meaning was about being courageous and living without fear.  One thing I do know is that living in fear is living in the dark.  If there’s one thing I’d like to remember is to act out of love.  Love is where the light is.

I think 2014 could be a great year, especially if I could find my waistline again!