In Defense of Gift Cards

I have heard many times over my gift giving years that getting people gift certificates or gift cards gives the impression that you do not care about the person enough to give great thought to their gift. I call balderdash! And, I say that the practice of giving gift cards is quite the opposite.

Think about it...wouldn't you rather have the freedom to choose something you will really like or actually use than to have to pretend you like the ridiculous deviled egg dish someone got as a free gift for their Pampered Chef order and decided to give you because they didn't have anything else to give? Many a year I have sat under the Christmas tree wondering who the heck my loved ones really think I am. Judging by some of the Christmas gifts... Alas, I digress. The point is that a damned deviled egg dish is neither something I want nor that will get used unless I regift it. Hell, I haven't the faintest idea how to even go about constructing the little buggers!

I could go on for days about this...I guess what I'm trying to say is that for me, I am tired of having to house items that I will never, ever use. I take these things and say thank you and then stash them somewhere to be found on a cleaning binge a year later. They then find their way to Goodwill or the like. I just don't want to do the dance anymore. I am trying to declutter my life and my possessions.

As an example, a gift card to iTunes, Target, Starbucks, or a bookstore is perfect. I love music, I regularly shop at Target, I enjoy the occasional soy latte, and I love a good book. These things do not take up space unless I choose to purchase something that I want to take up space.

So, if you're stumped on what to get someone you love, look at what they like to do and get them a gift card accordingly. I promise, they will love it!

Happy Christmas! Rant over.

An Attitude of Gratitude

I know, I know.  Anyone who has read or even gone near a copy of "The Secret" is rolling their eyes right now.  Okay, now that you're done, hear me out on this.

It's Sunday morning.  We've just finished the Thanksgiving holiday festivities, put up the snowman explosion that counts as Christmas decor in my house (well, my sister put up the decorations...I don't decorate), and have finally gotten all of the "real" dishes we've dragged out back where they'll live until Christmas dinner.  It's quiet this morning.  The Westies are sleeping next to me on the couch.  (Trust me when I tell you the couch is full up with me and three Westies!)  My laundry is churning in the washer and tossing in the dryer. 

As I'm sitting here, I find myself in total amazement at the quiet beauty of this house, these pups, my weekend chores.  And, I am thankful that I have the luxury of sitting here like this.  I am thankful for this house, for this silly snowman explosion that reminds me how much my Mother loves Christmas, and for the great thing that is owning one's washer and dryer.  I am truly thankful I don't have to schlep my skivvies to the laundromat! 

I am thankful for the five days off from work I've had.  I am thankful.  Today, I have an attitude of gratitude.  The trick is keeping that attitude when I'm stressed out at work...

What are you thankful for today?

Thanks

We do not say thank you enough to those we love, and to those we do not love, but that teach us every day why we feel so strongly that we mist be who we are without compromise. We wait until the prescribed holiday to air our thankful thoughts when we should be in a state of rich gratitude year-round.

Today, this Thanksgiving day, I am indeed very thankful for all that I have. And, I am thankful for all that I do not have. It is my "resolution", for lack of a better word, to show my gratitude every day from today forward.

I hope you all had a wonderful day filled with family, friends, great food, love and thanks. I am thankful for all of you.

Trying to Understand...

My heart aches each time I see a story in the news detailing a teenager, a child, taking his or her life.  The reasons for their suicide matters to me very little in that moment.  What hits me with the force of a Mack truck is that a sweet soul has been lost to this world.  He or she could have been President of the United States, a doctor, a Peace Corps volunteer, a teacher.  He or she could have been a wonderful parent.  He or she could have worked to make peace in this screwed up world of ours.

It is only after the initial sadness of the loss of a child that I wonder what led them to make such a final decision.  Were their parents not listening to their cries for help?  Were their teachers deaf as well?  What about their friends?  And their friend's parents?  My God!  How does a child even know how to kill themself?

And what about the parents of the children, because they are children, who are calling names, pushing around, and making life miserable for others?  Did they learn their behavior at home?  Are their parents "bullies"?  Why do they not reign in their children and teach them right from wrong?  I have no problem with someone not liking another person, after all, not all of us are the same.  And there lies the perfect irony of the problem.  Differences breed discomfort.  Parents should be teaching their children that the discomfort they initially feel at difference should lead them to curiosity and a willingness to acceptance. 

I was taunted as a child.  I cannot think of one person in my acquaintance that was not.  In my case, it was fatness.  After graduating high school I heard that there were many more rumors swirling about me than I was aware of, but they did not directly affect me because I didn't know about them.  People can be awful and I suppose, that if I had not developed my sense of self and sense of humor, I could have been a casualty too. 

Let us learn ourselves what unconditional love really means and let us teach our children.  Let us teach and support each other and be receptive to the messages of peace, love, and acceptance of difference.  We are alll human beings trying to make our way through this world.  Why make it harder than it has to be?  Let's be good to one another.

The Downfall of Humanity

I have a great friend that I admire and adore that feels that the downfall of humanity is upon us.  Now, this is no religious belief.  She fervently believes that we are doomed because we refuse to take the time to truly listen to each other.  We refuse to acknowledge any path other than that we have selected to follow. 

She and I were talking today about the Michigan Assistant Attorney General that has launched a campaign of what can only be termed harassment against the student body president of the University of Michigan.  She became quite agitated during the discussion and said that it is precisely this kind of disembodied attack upon others that defines our lack of engagement.  We are all too ready to believe what we read on the internet, whether it is true or not.  We are too ready to be spoon fed an opinion.  The lack of critical thinking in the public discourse is the decline of civility.  It is the reason we are continually dissatisfied with our leaders. 

I have to say that I am inclined to agree with her assessment.  When I take the time to stop and think about the absolute inanity that is a public official going after a college student, whether it is on his "own time", as has been stated by the harasser, or not, I shudder at where we are in the world. 

Of course, my friend would say that I am perpetuating the problem by publishing this post too. 

Musings on a Sunday Morning

During half-time in the Birmingham City v. Liverpool game, I began going through my minimalist blog list to read recent entries.  I am completely new to blogging, both reading and writing, but I am continually surprised by the level of discourse among the bloggers and their readers.  It's pretty great to read honest and engaging conversation on topics ranging from organizing bins to simple cooking. 

Today I read a few posts by a 23 year old recent college graduate named Reggie at www.peoplenotstuff.wordpress.com.  He's got some really interesting insights on getting out of school and realizing you're already upside down in your life because of student loan debt and no job prospects in this economic hard time.  He is taking a minimalist approach to his life out of school.  I applaud his decision.  I also think that adopting such a lifestyle at such an early stage in his life will be enormously beneficial to him. 

Recently, I went through my closet, cleaned it up and binned all of the items I don't use, and donated all of the clothing and shoes I don't wear.  It felt good...especially on the heels of doing the same in my bedroom.  It seems more comforting to be in a room that has little or no clutter.  I have noticed that I have a tendency to want to slip back into putting things any old place, but I am training myself slowly to have one spot for one item.  That's it.  I am doing the same thing in my office at work.  It's working well at the office, but I fear people think I'm not doing much because I haven't got the stack of endless papers as I did before.  I've got two monitors, which virtually eliminates the need for paper to computer input.  I can put the document on one screen and do the input I need to do on the other.  It's awesome!  I still have an inbox that's overflowing, but that's only because I've been using it as a place to put things I don't know what to do with...for now. 

Something else I've been thinking about is the tendency of Americans to tie their patriotism to events.  Don't get me wrong, I believe the events of nine years ago to be a tragedy.  I believe the people who engineered the destruction should be punished, but I have a real problem with the incessant replay of the two airliners hitting the two towers.  Media is a dangerous thing. The never ending reel of that footage doesn't serve to remind us of the loss of the people, it serves to incense and encourage acts of absolute stupidity such as this Koran burning business in Florida.  In my opinion, that man is as misguided as the people who hi-jacked the airliners.  Forced reflection is not reflection at all.  I support the men and women who fight in the name of freedom.  I do not, however, support this war or the reasons the public was told we entered into it.

Perhaps our "leaders" should take a lesson from history...it repeats endlessly if one doesn't analyze why the events occur and what can be done to alter their outcome or stop them altogether.  

Happy Sunday.     

All Shook Up

Losing interest in things you once loved...when is it depression and when is it growth?

Writing instruments are a passion in my life.  Always have been.  And, for the last four years I have attended the Los Angeles International Pen Show.  It's a pretty big event with lots of retailers and traders that come to show off their wares.  Now, if I were to be completely honest, the whole thing scares the bejesus out of me.  It's a banquet room smashed full of pens and people.  I get a little (okay, a lot) anxious in rooms full of people and very little space to move about.  I've braved it for four years...even dragged my sister and Mother along for the experience (they could care less about pens, but support me) and had a good time...but in thinking about returning in February 2011, my desire is gone. 

I haven't purchased a pen in months.  That's pretty unusual for me.  There are a few inks I would love to own, but I haven't bought those either. 

So...I guess the question for me is: Is my lack of desire in things regarding a passion in my life the result of some new depression or is it a result of a growth process wherein I have learned that I do not need more or the latest and greatest to be satisfied?

More and more, since the death of my Uncle John, I have been thinking about "stuff".  The man had at least two of everything ever made!  (That's nearing hyperbole, but not quite there...)  I look around me and think: Why do I own so much junk?  My Mother says it's engrained in me to be a pack-rat from my father's side.  And, perhaps it is...all but one of my father's siblings are truly pack-rats.  Now, pens are not junk by any means...not to me, anyway...but I do not need all of the pens in the world.  I do not need all of the inks in the world.  

For me, it's pens and books.  For others I know it's clothes or jewelry or cars or purses or shoes or whatever else the Jones' have.  What is it in us that wants everything?  Why do we feel entitled to have that everything?  When is the line of enough crossed?  Is it security?  Why do things make us feel secure?  I've heard tales of people having lived through the Great Depression, having nothing but holey shoes and the tattered clothes on their backs, that now possess rooms and rooms of items they never use...but they possess them.  Do those items really make them feel secure?  

As I look around me, I find insecurity in all of my stuff.  I find an attempt to bury myself in things.  I find wastefulness.   I find myself yelling, "No more stuff!"  

Perhaps I don't want to go to the pen show because I don't need to be enticed to buy more pens and ink.  I don't need to be an impulse buyer anymore.  Perhaps I should take Leo Babauta's (http://www.zenhabits.net/) advice and have a running 30 Day List.  If I see something I want that is not necessary to my existence, i.e. a new pen, I will put it on a 30 Day List in my planner with the date.  If, after 30 days have passed, I still really want the item, I will give myself leave to purchase it.  

I think I'll chalk this up to growth...   

Back To School

Ah, back to school time.  It used to be my favorite time of year...not because I liked school, but because I loved new notebooks and pens and textbooks.  To my Mother's chigrin, I could care less about new clothing or shoes.  I wanted the tools of school.  Admittedly, I was raised comfortably seated in the middle class.  My Mother did everything she could to see that my sister and I had every opportunity, everything we needed, and most things we wanted.  It never occurred to me then that there were students in my class that could not afford even a notebook or pack of pencils.

Over the last five years, my Mother and I have bought backpacks, supplies, underwear and socks for elementary school aged children and delivered them to local schools.  I always knew the need for these items was great, but last year I discovered that here in Las Vegas, there are a number of elementary schools that have 80% of their student bodies made up of severly impoverished and/or homeless children.  The economic straits we find ourselves in has only served to exacerbate an already horrible problem.  Some of these children only get the two meals provided for them by the school's cafeteria each day.  Their evening meals and weekend meals are very often non-existent.  Hollingsworth Elementary School, located at Bruce and Fremont Street in Las Vegas, has a sort of supply closet that they've turned into a "store" for these students.  They stock sneakers, socks, underwear, coats, sleeping bags, backpacks, school supplies, and non-perishable food items such as jars of peanut butter and loaves of bread.  They try very hard to give some food items to students they know will have no meals while they are not in school.  

On Tuesday, I will be dropping off four backpacks loaded with supplies and bags of underwear and socks to Hollingsworth.  To me, no child should have to worry about simple things like the lack of pens and pencils and paper, when they don't know where they will lay their head that night or where their next meal is coming from.  They have enough impeding their precious futures.  I know school supplies are expensive for families...but would you pick up some extra supplies for those in your child's class that may not have the means to get them otherwise?

mnmlsm

I've been reading a lot about minimalism lately via blogs and a book called Put Your Life On A Diet. 

The idea of having only what I need...not all of this clutter around me is wholly appealing.  One guy has even put forth a "100 Thing Challenge", whereby he will pare down his personal possessions to only 100 items.  Quite a lot of people have joined him in his quest for a minimalist life...but they all seem to have their own rules regarding what counts as one item.  One participant says that her 40 pairs of shoes count as one item.  Um...I'm not sure if that is in keeping with the sentiment, but to each her own.  Admittedly, my pens would be one item, as would my ink.  End of story. 

"The Blues is the roots. The rest is the fruits."

You might be wondering where "Bluenotes" comes from.  The blue note, or "worried note", is what makes the musicality of blues and jazz so special, in my opinion.  The I, IV, V, then flat VII of a chord progression is typical blues and it evokes the longing and aching so indicative of the art.  I love the blues.  I believe the blues to be paramount to the American musical lexicon.  To me, it is the only truly American sound.  All other forms of popular music - jazz, country, rock & roll, and hip hop grew from the ingenuity and raw art that is the blues. 

One of my favorite websites is http://www.yearoftheblues.org/.  In 2003, the Year of the Blues project celebrated 100 years of recorded blues in America.  National Public Radio ran an incredible thirteen part series on the evolution of blues, from the African slaves who turned their native musical traditions into the roots of blues, to today's greats like B.B. King, Bonnie Raitt, Robert Cray, and Taj Mahal (to name a scant, but notable few).  If you get a chance, check it out.  It's full of great recordings and great commentary. 

A new television series on the TNT network, "Memphis Beat", starring Jason Lee, showcases some pretty great music.  While the premise of the show is a cop's life in Memphis, Jason Lee's character Detective Dwight Hendricks, is also a musician and a student of Memphis' musical traditions.  Each episode is full of amazing tunes.  Here's hoping TNT puts out a soundtrack...  A recent episode featured a great tune by Tony Joe White called "Polk Salad Annie." 

(Spoken)  "If some of ya'll never been down south too much...
I'm gonna tell you a little bit about this, so that you'll understand
What I'm talkin' about
Down there we have a plant that grows out in the woods and the fields,
Looks somethin' like a turnip green.
Everybody calls is Polk Salad.  Polk Salad.
Used to know a girl that lived down there
And she'd go out in the evenings and pick a mess of it...
Carry it home and cook it for supper, 'cause that's about all they had to eat,
But they did it all right.

(Sung) Down in Louisiana, where the alligators grow so mean
There lived a girl that, I swear to the world, made the alligators look tame

Polk salad Annie, polk salad annie
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was workin' on the chain gang
(A mean, vicious woman)

Everyday 'fore supper time she'd go down by the truck patch
And pick her mess o' polk salad
And carry it home in a tote sack

Polk salad Annie, 'Gators got you granny
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was aworkin' on the chain gang
(A wretched, spiteful, straight-razor totin' woman,
Lord have mercy, pick a mess of it)

Her daddy was lazy and no count
Claimed he had a bad back
All her brothers were fit for was stealin' watermelons out of my truck patch
Polk salad Annie, the gators got your granny
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was workin' on the chain gang
(Sock a little polk salad to me, you know I need a mess of it)"

Listen a bit here http://s0.ilike.com/play#Tony+Joe+White:Polk+Salad+Annie:80278:s53766291.13123166.22882058.0.2.277%2Cstd_47c61a6202764a3498e28a4cb3dd753e

Check out some blues and tell me what you think. 

Something New...

There seem to be blogs about anything and everything.  A few of my friends have them to document their children's lives and achievements.  A few more have them as platforms for their musings.  I enjoy reading them, but never thought about having my own space to muse until just recently.  A pen pal of mine through The Fountain Pen Network (http://www.fountainpennetwork.com/), Dizzy Pen, has started a blog to discuss and review fountain pens, inks and paper - and seeing her beautiful work has inspired me.  I doubt that I will be able to keep myself limited to my pen collecting...mostly because I'm a talker.  I like to discuss varied topics, sometimes beating them into the ground. 

I hope anyone who reads this little bit of me will enjoy what they find.  Perhaps they'll even leave a comment or two.