A Thing I Do Not Understand

There are so many things in life I don’t understand. This one is most likely controversial and will probably anger some people. But it’s something I truly do not understand.

Why cathedrals are built so big, so majestic, and filled with what man considers “wealth” when there are people who are out there who are starving? I don’t pretend to know when this propensity started, but I do know that going back to at least the Middle Ages great expense went into building temples when people could have been clothed, housed, and fed. The attitude seems to be that G*d prefers gold to people.

The Egyptian pyramids tombs were built to honor the dead that were buried within. But the famous cathedrals of Europe were built to..? The same thing happens in the US. Some of these structures are more like theaters than places of worship.

I’m not bashing any particular religion here. Ostentation comes with every creed. The pouring of resources into material manifestations of what man values seems like a sin to me. All religions preach the sanctity of life, but feeding the poor doesn’t seem high enough on many agendas, especially when they can build idols to their own wealth.

Religious institutions  should put their money where the hungry mouths are.

#UpbeatAuthors: The Face of Perseverance

This is Laurence. He was once an intern at the TV station where I worked. Back then, we called him “L-Train.”

The next time I saw Laurence, he was manning the Breast Cancer Awareness Booth at the local baseball stadium. Passionately.  It seems a very good friend of his died of multiple carcinoma.  Remember the movie The Blues Brothers? The characters claimed they were on a mission from God. Well, that’s Laurence when it comes to breast cancer.

Most recently–for several years–Laurence collects bottles and cans for their five-cent deposit and donates the money to breast cancer research. He’s found a place that will give him six-cents for every can/bottle, one penny more than the state deposit. Laurence knows every penny counts.

Here’s an article from 2015.

And another from 2017, which talks about his connection to the Carol M. Baldwin Cancer Research Fund.

Laurence is serious. But he gets discouraged. I follow him on Facebook. There were incidents several years ago when he had a deal with a car-wash franchise to retrieve the bottles and cans customers tossed in the garbage. Yes, Laurence picks through garbage to retrieve every nickel he can.  Customers complained. Even after the management explained the situation, customers complained.  So Laurence couldn’t “scavenge” there any more.

In August, the Great New York State Fair happens. Laurence gets his signature pink cans into the fairgrounds for people to donate their cans and bottles. But people can’t read or don’t care. They toss dirty diapers and other disgusting bits of garbage into those pink cans. Laurence has to sift through the crap for every five cents. He has a room at the fair to store his daily take. In past years, it’s been broken into, his hard work stolen. This year someone damaged the lock trying to break in.

I took the above photo at a concert in July at the local amphitheater. Laurence and his team of volunteers went around the lawn seating area and retrieved as many bottles and cans as they could. When my husband and I handed Laurence our empty water bottles, he said, “Another six cents for cancer research. We going to beat cancer one bottle and can at a time.”

Sometimes, on Facebook, he lets his frustrations out. He says he’s going to quit. People mock him and are mean to him. They insult him. He gets discouraged. But he never quits.  He is not only the face of, but also the personification of perseverance.

 

 

 

 

Getting Rid of Make-Up

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Many years ago, I let a couple of friends talk me into wearing makeup on a regular basis. So I had a couple of professional consultations. Bought reams of the stuff.  Way too much of it. It took time in the morning to apply. It took time at night to remove. I could never rub my eyes. No matter what kind of mascara I used, I ended up with racoon eyes. Makeup came off when I blew my nose. My winter coats had makeup on the collars. And my left eye watered nearly every day. I’m sure people thought I was crying.

A little over two years ago, during a hot spell, I was putting on my foundation, lamenting the fact that it was only going to melt off, when I realized I didn’t have to smear cosmetics on my face in order to go to work. My husband didn’t care. So I stopped. I thought I’d stopped just for the summer. But Labor Day came and I was enjoying my freedom from the routine too much. A year went by. Then two.

It was time to toss the stuff. A drawer full of little plastic compacts and tubes…

…became a waste basket full of the same.

The only thing I’ve used for two years is moisturizer and lip balm.

I’m still trying do decide what’s the next thing to go: coloring my hair or bras

#UpbeatAuthors: Tolerance & Stereotypes

My children attended an “inner city” high school I don’t think they ever thought of it in that light, though, unless the media made a big deal about school performance. They’re both proud alumni. They were active in band, chorus, drama, National Art Honor Society. Both got into good colleges with no problems. There were advanced placement classes available–maybe not as many as in some of the wealthier suburban districts, but some.

They attended religious education with students from some of those wealthier suburban districts and were stunned when they were asked, “Aren’t you afraid? Don’t your school mates come to school with weapons?”

“Where did they come up with that?” X-Chromo asked.

Stereotype. Inner-city school with minority students = danger.

I was working in local TV at the time and was part of a committee that decided which Public Service Announcements (PSA) would air on our station.  This was not long after Columbine. There had been a few other school shootings. One organization sent us a PSA deploring gun violence. The problem with the spot was that all the “students” with guns were black. The assistant news director–who happened to be a black man–and I both immediately vetoed the spot. For the same reason. The people who put the spot together used stereotypes to scare people, when in fact every school shooting at that point had been done by white kids.   After vetoing the spot, I went on to list a bunch of local situations in schools that had all been perpetrated by white students.

I am glad my children grew up in a multi-cultural environment. Their friends are of many races, colors, religious backgrounds, and sexual orientations. They’ve moved beyond tolerance and even past acceptance, to normal.

 

 

What I Need to Write

There are certain things I need around me when I’m writing.

I’m not talking about scented candles or mood music. I’m talking about other things that I must have when I’m seriously at work.

I need an insulated cup for my cold drink. This one is the one I use on writing retreats.

I need a box of tissues. I don’t know why, but I need a box of tissues everywhere. I’ve started bringing my own on writing retreats.

Lip balm. Again, I have lip balm in all of my purses, computer bags, my desk at home and my desk at day job. I never have to buy it because my sister is always winning it at golf tournaments and passing it on to me. I will confess, though, I tossed the pumpkin spice flavored one. I really gave it fair shot. It was revolting.

Hand cream.  Rubbing hand cream into my fingers also massages them, a must after a long day of typing.

And finally:

A small chunk of labradorite. This was given to me by a witch, who was rubbing it. She handed it to me and said, “You need this. It likes being rubbed.”  Deep within the gray, there is turquoise and gold, some of which you can see in the photo.. Labradorite it supposed to help with creativity. Also, some studies suggest that rubbing a stone will release calming endorphins into the body. All I know is that rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger helps me think.