We are living in an age wherein people don't seem to ever believe the rules are meant for them. They do as they please and are as quick to misuse the Constitution as they are the Bible to find proof they are right. A couple recent events illustrate the point.
First, there was the tragic accidental fall of an actor performing as a stunt double in the Broadway production of "Spiderman: Turn off the Dark." A video of the incident was provided by an audience member to the New York Times. From there, it made its way through the various television networks. No one ever questioned why the video exists since all recording devices are banded in live theatrical productions. An announcement stating this is made prior to the start of every performance. Are we to really believe this person just happened to pull out her camera at the precise moment to capture this tragedy? Isn't it more likely the entire performance had been recorded illegally? It is a serious violation of copyright laws, not to mention the distraction it would have been to fellow theatergoers in the vicinity. The recording served no purpose other than to sensationalize the beginning of the performers 30-foot plunge. It did not show his landing, nor any of his injuries, so it would be of no use in a lawsuit. Yet, this person has gotten off with her crime (the Times identified the source as a woman without divulging her name) in the name of news. She didn't accept that the rules included her, and she is not having to take responsibility for her defiance. Amazing.
A more recent incident centers around the shooting of an Arizona congresswoman. Several people who have recently entered the political arena have been using militant rhetoric to make their points. One in particular went so far as to post photographs of democrats in Congress with crosshairs over their faces on her Facebook page. One of those "targets" was the congresswoman who was shot. The shooter is being characterized as "mentally unbalanced," and acting on his own initiative. There are those who defend the postings as well as the rhetoric as "metaphor," not intending a call to violence. Yet, the rhetoric was quite clear. "It's time to reload." Again, people are not taking responsiblity for what they have said. They claim they can't predict this kind of reaction to a speech. Yet, everyone agrees that there are people who are having mental health issues exacerbating other life issues who are in the audience of these speeches. Knowing that, should there not be some care taken to keep the rhetoric within the range of a civilized discussion and not a call to war? The Right of Free Speech does not protect someone who yells "Fire" in a crowded theatre when there is no fire. Should not such vehemently violent imagery be considered in the same vain? Democracy works through dialog, debate and compromise; killing off the competition is not what we do.
It is time that we all take responsibilty for our behavior, what we say as well as what we do. Consider who is watching and listening. The difference between an "off-the cuff" remark and a speech is time, time to rethink and edit. Being dramatic and sensational may get our names in the press. The news media and reality television has blurred the line between fame and infamy. This needs to be brought back into focus. Clear thought followed with appropriate action will help to accomplish this. It will also make our lives legendary, in the best sense of the word.
Living The Legendary Life
Reality tv has led a lot of people to seek fame for the sake of fame. This blog is about the search for the quintessential human experiences in body, mind and spirit and the people who show us the way. Fame is fleeting but legends are timeless.
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Sunday, January 9, 2011
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Divine Intervention: When Angels Speak
(Off-stage there are sounds of jostling, shoving and whispering.) What do you mean I have to go on instead? I can’t go on. I don’t talk in public; I have nothing to say. Get one of the others to do it. Not me. God!
Announcer
And so, ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that we present to you, Gabriel. Let’s have a warm welcome for this outstanding archangel! (The audience applauds.)
Harold
(Harold comes out on stage as though he’s been forcibly pushed. He’s a nerdy looking guy and appears to be quite shy.) I’m not who you were expecting. I am not who you came to see. I am not Gabriel. Gabriel has been detained. Actually, Gabriel isn’t even here…well, he was here but he isn’t now. He had to go somewhere. He was called away. Actually, he was here…oh, I said that already. He, uh, he got mad and stormed out. Yes, he left here in quite a fury. (To someone in the wings.) Well, I think they deserve to know what happened. They paid to see him and now they won’t. They deserve the truth. (To the audience.) The truth is, ladies and gentlemen that Gabriel overheard a joke someone told about him and it made him angry. I don’t know why; it was just a little joke. Well…someone said that when it comes to news you can tel-ephone, tel-agraph or tell Gabriel. (Laughs weakly.) It was just a small joke; nothing to get all pissy about…it’s true, of course. Just let God say something about someone or something at dinner and Gabriel takes off like a jet to announce it to the world! That’s what he does. He’s a good speaker. He’s very good at making announcements; it’s his job. He’s made a career out of telling people things, like Louella Parsons or Hedda Hopper. Oh, I guess these days I should compare him to Liz Smith or Barbara Walters. Absolutely nothing wrong with telling gossip as long as it’s true. Gabriel always says if something is true it’s news and not gossip at all. Anyway, he took offense and took off.
Me? My name is Harold…that’s right, Harold Angel. Oh, I know what you’re thinking: Hark! That Harold Angel sings. I get that all the time; I’m not psychic or anything. Sadly, no. I don’t sing, can’t sing. I can’t carry a song in a bucket as you say. During services I just stand there and lip-sync. I don’t’ know why really. Everyone knows I can’t sing, have been forbidden from singing, so I’m not fooling anyone. I guess the boss thinks it helps to make me be part of the group. Silly, really. I shouldn’t have said that! The boss hears and sees everything. He’s older than dirt, but he doesn’t miss a thing, the lilies of the field, a sparrow…but you know all that.
In addition to not singing, I also can’t dance. I guess I missed out on the music and rhythm gene altogether! Speaking of angels dancing, will you take a good look at me? (He turns in a circle so the audience can see him from all sides, like he's modelling an outift.) I am one of the smaller angels. The others are much, much bigger than me. Now can you really imagine one thousand of us dancing on the head of a pin? Where do you get these notions? Oh! And speaking of things you believe that aren’t true. What is with all the bell ringing that you do? Some old movie tells you that “every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings” and you take that as gospel! You aren’t giving us wings. You’re giving us headaches. What do you think we are a bunch of celestial caterpillars, wingless until some idiot…sorry, no offense, but can you hear how irritating it is? Angels are created complete. Nothing develops on our person as time goes on. Where we are there is no time.
Thank you for letting me get that off my chest. It’s been bugging me for eternity! As I said before, I’m one of the smaller angels, nothing special about me, just your average angel. I tend to blend in, as you can or cannot see. (Giggles.) I don’t ever deal with people, or even with the grander angels for that matter. I’m what you might call a personal assistant. No that’s too important sounding. Maybe I’m a go-for. No that also implies a little more importance that I have. No, I’m more of an elf, I suppose. They get no respect. We work hard doing what bits need doing in such a way that the Grand Ones are left with the impression they must have done it themselves and somehow forgot. We are the ones who are never to be seen, not be to heard, but who step and fetch and like tonight, fill in on a moment’s notice. Wow, speech is power. I shouldn’t be venting like this, but here on stage and actually being ordered to speak I’m thinking of all kinds of things I want to say! (Glancing around, he suddenly realizes that he is being observed and heard by the boss. He resumes after this awkward pause.) Enough about me, I’m meant to be telling you Gabriel’s story.
Gabriel is a big, strapping angel, archangel. He works with Michael, Raphael, and Ariel. The guardians are the angels you come in contact with, they watch over you and the other creatures of Earth. The Guardians of Heaven are the Seraphim. You would think they look like fire-breathing snakes, something out of Harry Potter’s world. You don’t want to mess around with them, believe you me. Best not even to talk about them. I just wanted to be clear about the type of angels you’re dealing with when we speak of Gabriel. There use to be another member of their group, Samiel. You know how even now when you see John Travolta walk you can hear the Bee Gees singing “Staying Alive?” He just has that beat going on with his walk. Well, with this band of angels, you hear “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Just wait until you see them next and see if you don’t hear it, too! After the boss got all of us together, he told us rule number one is that he is the boss. There is not now nor ever will be anyone else we should bow down to. Suddenly he encounters Mankind and tells us we are to bow to them, too. Samiel had a problem with this. He loved the boss more than anything. He would do anything for him, but he absolutely refused to honor Mankind as he would the boss. So the boss told him to take a hike. Isn’t that how youse guys on the Jersey shore would say he got thrown out? By the way, you know Samiel as Lucifer. He uses an alias, though I don’t know why since the boss knows who he is and where he is at all times. Guess it makes him feel safer. I think it was all a tempest in a teapot anyway. The boss soon got over Mankind and had them escorted off the estate. That was one of Gabriel’s first assignments.
It wasn’t long, though, before the boss eyes this new guy named Daniel. Ah, Daniel! Now there was one good looking Jew. If we had known Daniel when the boss said we had to honor Mankind, we would have all bent over for that one! What am I saying, bent over, I meant to say bow down. Daniel was as smart as he was handsome and he was built like the Eastern Wall! Solid, you know, small gate for a tight, exclusive entry. At any rate, Daniel was royalty on top of everything else. His parents sent him to the Babylonian court so he could get an education, learn diplomacy, and be a voice for Jews who didn’t exactly chose to leave Israel, you know what I mean? Gabriel had seniority and his eye on Daniel. He decided that he would make Daniel a star. He taught him the art of interpreting dreams. When Daniel was called before the Babylonian king to hear his disturbing dream, Gabriel was there, whispering to Daniel what the king needed to know. Later on, the Queen awoke screaming one night because there was some kind of mysterious writing all over her bedroom walls. None of her attendants or sons could read this to know what the message was. Gabriel had written it while she slept and then told Daniel what it said, so he could be the hero of the day. The message was that the king was going to be killed in battle, so the son needed to be prepared to take over. So now you know why people say you should read the writing on the wall when you’re about to be fired from a job or dumped by a boyfriend or girlfriend. You know something else I always thought was a bit queer? This Babylonian Captivity of the Jews? Daniel had free access to the royal family, to the royal court through it all. Daniel was indeed the Star of the Middle East. When the Jews were allowed to return to the land of Israel, Daniel stayed behind. No one ever really understood why. For once, Mary Hart kept his mouth shut!
When the boss decided that a woman named Elizabeth was to have a baby even though she was passed the child bearing age, Gabriel could not wait to start spreading the news. When Zechariah heard this he didn’t believe it and didn’t want the story told. Zechariah was a member of the priesthood. He was too old to be a father and considered this to be the worst gossip. Gabriel was quite indignant and said that if the father to be didn’t want to talk about the pregnancy he wouldn’t talk about anything at all. Gabriel silenced him until after the baby was born, lest a curse be leveled at the child or its mother.
Elizabeth’s cousin Mary was also the subject of Gabriel’s happy news. Not yet married she was told she too was having a baby. Not great news in those times to be an unwedded mother, even if she was engaged. So Gabriel convinced Joseph not only to proceed with their wedding plans, but to do it quickly.
Funny thing about Gabriel is that he never contacted the parents afterwards. He never had any contact with either of the boys nor the men they grew to be. He simply withdrew. Both men were murdered with no one to protect them or to come to their aid. No one heard from Gabriel again until a particular man with a camel caravan caught his eye. This man was very devoted to the boss and wanted badly to know him and to know what the boss wanted him to do. The boss had been so busy with the sons of Isaac that he had neglected the sons of Ishmael. Gabriel was going to change that.
The man from the caravan had been orphaned and raised by the Bedouins until he was finally adopted by an uncle. Since he had stayed with the Bedouins longer than was the usual custom for wet-nursing, the man had never learned to read. This meant Gabriel had to repeat the lesson over and over until the man had it memorized. For someone who loves the sound of his voice as much as Gabriel, this shouldn’t have been a problem. However, the man kept straying off topic wanting to know more about the messenger at times more than the message. He wanted to see Gabriel, to know what he really looked like out of his disguise. Gabriel told him to be happy with the disguise because the real Gabriel would be too much for him and to stick to the sura at hand. Finally, in exasperation and anger, Gabriel threw off his disguise and showed the man just how big and powerful and terrible his is. The man went running from the cave where they had met for these lessons in sheer terror. When he arrived home, he locked himself in his bedroom. He refused to see anyone or to eat or drink anything. His wife thought he would surely die. Even seeing, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t comprehend the enormous presence of Gabriel. If the boss had paid him a visit instead of Gabriel, the man probably would have died. Best to know what you ask for because you will get it.
I suppose in this light, you’re lucky Kitty Kelly left the building. The moment a cell phone would go off, he would have, too.
At some point during this holiday season, I’m sure you’ll either ask God or ask Santa for the things you want, for things you need. Remember to ask for that and then a little bit more. The little bit more is so that you can fulfill your greatest need, the need to give to others, to be generous. I think of all the things Gabriel would have told you tonight, he would have told you to be kind to one another. Generosity is how you throw off your disguise and show the world how enormous your being truly is. How legendary you are!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Survivor Mom
The most important take-away concept of the book "The Survivors Club" by Ben Sherwood is that survivors are vigilant. Such is the case of a New Jersey mom. The name Amy Schmalbach probably doesn't mean anything to you. No reason for it to, until now.
When a census-taker knocked on her door, she says she expected the visit because she hadn't sent in her census form. As she answered the man's questions, she had an uneasy feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. She thought she knew where. She asked him to step back so she could close and lock her door and then went to her computer. She pulled up the New Jersey sex offender website. There was a photo of the man at her door. She called 911 and the man was arrested.
This man had all the correct government credentials for is job. He had gotten them, however, under an assumed name. Her vigilance in checking the list stopped this man who had been convicted of exposure and child endangerment. She may have saved her child. She certainly saved someone's.
We should all follow Amy's example. Check the list. Whether we're parents or not, we know children who need protection. We teach them to respect authority, but these days recognizing true authority isn't easy. The evening news is peppered with stories of fake policemen, fake firemen, fake utility workers all using official looking credentials to rob, assault and rape. Making ourselves familiar with details can help to prevent us from becoming victims.
While cellphones can be very helpful in cases of emergency. Misuse can also cause the emergencies. Every day I see people walking the sidewalks of New York while pushing strollers and talking on cellphones. I have seem some that were so involved in their phone conversations that they didn't notice the traffic light had changed.
Even without a cellphone, people can be dangerously distracted if they don't practise awareness. At a grocery store a mother picked up her child and swung him around, nearly hitting me. I had noticed her and was able to stop in time. I could have just as easily been watching her and used the collision as an opportunity to snatch the toddler from her arms and jump into a car waiting at the curb outside. When I suggesting being more careful, she snarled back, "You be more careful!" I replied that I was and that I'm not the one with a child. She told me I was rude. She had no idea the tradgedy she might have had.
I try to be aware and anticipate the actions of others around me. "Defensive Walking" is just as important as Defensive Diving. Today, Amy has taught us a new lesson in vigilance. Find the sex offender website for your state (for NYC, there would be at least three state websites to check: NY, NJ, CT) and check it periodically. It just might save a child, a neighbor, a co-worker or friend from abuse, rape, or even death. This is certainly a lesson in living a legendary life. Thank you, Amy!
Survivor MomWhen a census-taker knocked on her door, she says she expected the visit because she hadn't sent in her census form. As she answered the man's questions, she had an uneasy feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. She thought she knew where. She asked him to step back so she could close and lock her door and then went to her computer. She pulled up the New Jersey sex offender website. There was a photo of the man at her door. She called 911 and the man was arrested.
This man had all the correct government credentials for is job. He had gotten them, however, under an assumed name. Her vigilance in checking the list stopped this man who had been convicted of exposure and child endangerment. She may have saved her child. She certainly saved someone's.
We should all follow Amy's example. Check the list. Whether we're parents or not, we know children who need protection. We teach them to respect authority, but these days recognizing true authority isn't easy. The evening news is peppered with stories of fake policemen, fake firemen, fake utility workers all using official looking credentials to rob, assault and rape. Making ourselves familiar with details can help to prevent us from becoming victims.
While cellphones can be very helpful in cases of emergency. Misuse can also cause the emergencies. Every day I see people walking the sidewalks of New York while pushing strollers and talking on cellphones. I have seem some that were so involved in their phone conversations that they didn't notice the traffic light had changed.
Even without a cellphone, people can be dangerously distracted if they don't practise awareness. At a grocery store a mother picked up her child and swung him around, nearly hitting me. I had noticed her and was able to stop in time. I could have just as easily been watching her and used the collision as an opportunity to snatch the toddler from her arms and jump into a car waiting at the curb outside. When I suggesting being more careful, she snarled back, "You be more careful!" I replied that I was and that I'm not the one with a child. She told me I was rude. She had no idea the tradgedy she might have had.
I try to be aware and anticipate the actions of others around me. "Defensive Walking" is just as important as Defensive Diving. Today, Amy has taught us a new lesson in vigilance. Find the sex offender website for your state (for NYC, there would be at least three state websites to check: NY, NJ, CT) and check it periodically. It just might save a child, a neighbor, a co-worker or friend from abuse, rape, or even death. This is certainly a lesson in living a legendary life. Thank you, Amy!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
A Legendary Case for National Healthcare
He was standing at the foot of the stairs of the Columbus Circle subway station. As I got off the B train and crossed the platform to wait for the A train to arrive, I noticed him. A young hispanic man with the brightest smile I have ever seen, was standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the 1 train or the exit, whichever. That smile was so captivating that I almost miss the sandwich-board size sign hanging around his neck. Like any other sandwich board sign it was professionally printed with large letters. The smile was so engaging I had to force myself to read the sign: I lost my arms in a terrible accident. I am collecting money to buy my prosthetics so that I can return to work. Please help.
That was when I noticed that this young man with the beautiful smile with a large sign hanging from his neck was holding the sign in place with his upper arms which now ended just above where there should have been elbows. Those elbows did not have the smoothe scars I have seen on other amputees. These arm stumps had scars that looked like the mangled wounds that cost this young man his forarms and hands. These were scars that reported on emergency care that was substandard to our expectations. I know this because this young man wanted help badly enough to wear a short sleeved cotton dress shirt.
Suddenly, I didn't know where to look. I didn't want to stare at his wounds, but they commanded the same powerful attention as his smile. In spite of whatever he had been through, all that he had been through, he smiled as his sign asked for a second chance to make a living for himself.
I counted 20 people on that platform. Two of us approached him with cash, which we placed in a shoulder bag hanging on one side. The other person who made a contribution was a well-dressed black lady carrying a Louis Vuitton bag, a new LV bag, a real LV bag. I watched as she looked into his eyes, smiling at him and caressed his face as a mother would after putting her money in his bag. The other 18 people on the platform this day chose not to see him. They missed out on seeing one of the most radiant smiles they would ever see in their lifetimes. They missed out on an opportunity to do for someone what our governemnt should be doing. That is, to make sure that everyone has the best emergency healthcare possible. To make sure that everyone has the tools they need to make a life for himself...something as basic as hands.
He asked for hands so he can work, not a lifetime of hand outs. What he must of thought when people didn't see him! It didn't seem to matter. He kept smiling, kept trying to engage people. If this isn't a prime example of how to be legendary, I don't know the meaning of the word.
A Legendary Case for National HealthcareThat was when I noticed that this young man with the beautiful smile with a large sign hanging from his neck was holding the sign in place with his upper arms which now ended just above where there should have been elbows. Those elbows did not have the smoothe scars I have seen on other amputees. These arm stumps had scars that looked like the mangled wounds that cost this young man his forarms and hands. These were scars that reported on emergency care that was substandard to our expectations. I know this because this young man wanted help badly enough to wear a short sleeved cotton dress shirt.
Suddenly, I didn't know where to look. I didn't want to stare at his wounds, but they commanded the same powerful attention as his smile. In spite of whatever he had been through, all that he had been through, he smiled as his sign asked for a second chance to make a living for himself.
I counted 20 people on that platform. Two of us approached him with cash, which we placed in a shoulder bag hanging on one side. The other person who made a contribution was a well-dressed black lady carrying a Louis Vuitton bag, a new LV bag, a real LV bag. I watched as she looked into his eyes, smiling at him and caressed his face as a mother would after putting her money in his bag. The other 18 people on the platform this day chose not to see him. They missed out on seeing one of the most radiant smiles they would ever see in their lifetimes. They missed out on an opportunity to do for someone what our governemnt should be doing. That is, to make sure that everyone has the best emergency healthcare possible. To make sure that everyone has the tools they need to make a life for himself...something as basic as hands.
He asked for hands so he can work, not a lifetime of hand outs. What he must of thought when people didn't see him! It didn't seem to matter. He kept smiling, kept trying to engage people. If this isn't a prime example of how to be legendary, I don't know the meaning of the word.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
If you seek truth you will not seek victory by dishonorable means, and if you find truth you will become invincible. ~Epictetus
Growing up Catholic and attending Catholic schools put me under the influence of the Sisters of St. Ursula, and later the Sisters of St. Joseph. The Ursulines were my teachers in elementary school and high school. Some of the older ladies of the cloth constantly reminded us to be "true to our school." If we misbehaved in public, they would be sure to hear about it. They taught me that it isn't what I do in front of them, or anyone else for that matter, as much as how I act whenever I think no one would ever know. Public sins are publicly repented, punished, and forgiven. The secret sins are the malignacies that harm our well-being. Such secrets create fear of being found out which leads to mistrust, paranoia, and often, even more bad behavior.
This is certainly evident in the current child abuse scandals rocking the Catholic Church on a daily basis. It doesn't help that certain church leaders keep stirring the pot by blaming outside influences instead of taking responsibility. The priesthood has long been one of the most honored professions in the world. Now it is sadly one of the most despised. Even within the American prison system, "snake eyes" as child molesters are called, are dealt with by the prisoner community. Truly there is "honor among thieves," who may not respect themselves or others in general but respect the sancity of a child's innocence.
The first play Joseph Papp produced for a prison inmate playwright was "Snake Eyes" by Miguel Pinero. The story centers around the treatment a convicted child molester is given when the other prisoners learn of his crime. It is a tough show to watch, but the message is clear: children are off limits. They deserve the opportunity to live and grow, to learn and to play, to make themselves legendary. Regardless of the choices the people we send to prison make, they know this one truth and they honor it. I was assigned this role once in an acting class, that of the child molester. It was a very difficult role because there wasn't anything about him with which I could identify. My only way into this character was to remember that this man was married, respected and well-liked by his community until his secret sin was discovered. This wasn't a public sin that could bring easy absolution. It was a sin that required punishment, degradation, and pain of the purpetrator, both outside of the prison as well as inside. He may have thought no one was looking, but someone always sees. God is always there. The priests, bishops, and especially the Pope would do well to remember the lessons taught them by the nuns. There are no secrets which cannot be discovered. There are no secrets that can escape justice.
When Pope John XXIII openned the Second Vatican Council in 1962, his theme was a command from Jesus: "Go, rebuild my Church, for it has nearly fallen down." If Benedict is to walk in his predessor's footsteps, he had best adopt the motto of legendary the people he follows: "If you seek truth you will not seek victory by dishonorable means." The Church cannot hide behind itself and expect to survive. It needs to stand for truth above all else.
If you seek truth you will not seek victory by dishonorable means, and if you find truth you will become invincible. ~EpictetusThis is certainly evident in the current child abuse scandals rocking the Catholic Church on a daily basis. It doesn't help that certain church leaders keep stirring the pot by blaming outside influences instead of taking responsibility. The priesthood has long been one of the most honored professions in the world. Now it is sadly one of the most despised. Even within the American prison system, "snake eyes" as child molesters are called, are dealt with by the prisoner community. Truly there is "honor among thieves," who may not respect themselves or others in general but respect the sancity of a child's innocence.
The first play Joseph Papp produced for a prison inmate playwright was "Snake Eyes" by Miguel Pinero. The story centers around the treatment a convicted child molester is given when the other prisoners learn of his crime. It is a tough show to watch, but the message is clear: children are off limits. They deserve the opportunity to live and grow, to learn and to play, to make themselves legendary. Regardless of the choices the people we send to prison make, they know this one truth and they honor it. I was assigned this role once in an acting class, that of the child molester. It was a very difficult role because there wasn't anything about him with which I could identify. My only way into this character was to remember that this man was married, respected and well-liked by his community until his secret sin was discovered. This wasn't a public sin that could bring easy absolution. It was a sin that required punishment, degradation, and pain of the purpetrator, both outside of the prison as well as inside. He may have thought no one was looking, but someone always sees. God is always there. The priests, bishops, and especially the Pope would do well to remember the lessons taught them by the nuns. There are no secrets which cannot be discovered. There are no secrets that can escape justice.
When Pope John XXIII openned the Second Vatican Council in 1962, his theme was a command from Jesus: "Go, rebuild my Church, for it has nearly fallen down." If Benedict is to walk in his predessor's footsteps, he had best adopt the motto of legendary the people he follows: "If you seek truth you will not seek victory by dishonorable means." The Church cannot hide behind itself and expect to survive. It needs to stand for truth above all else.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Legendary Bliss
There was a book-signing last night. Or was it a class reunion? Several of my former co-workers from when I first came to New York were there. It certainly felt like a class reunion! We had come together to honor one of our own, and of course, to buy his book. Sure, it was an exciting event, especially since we knew the author!
The man of the hour is someone I have long admired. Scott Sanders left a management position to come to New York to work as a sales associate while he went back to school so he could make a major career change. He had reached a point where he was compelled to follow his bliss, and had the courage to follow through. It has paid off for him, after all the book is not only a compilation of his interior design work, but a journal of his career, his inspiration and the people he has met along his way.
Scott speaks very eloquently of the influence of his family roots. He is not abashed to admit his taste comes from his mom and grandmothers. What makes this even more interesting, is that he expresses his "genetic taste" through very feminine colors (shades of blue), accentuated by the masculine (fire engine red, orange and yellow). His childhood clip file of magazine photos along with his own drawings are the visible seeds of his passion. Family means a lot to him and it shows in the homes he has created for his clients.
He could have stayed in retail management and had a lucrative career, I'm certain. However, I think his free time, his dream time would have continued to be spent drawing and sketching fantasy houses/ homes for a community of fantasy people. How much better that he said yes to his creative impulses and turned his passion into his career!
In one of my earlier pieces, I wrote that however high you throw your heart, the rest of you will follow. As all of the people who write motivational books tell us, if you are following your bliss, working with your passion, your work ceases to be a job. We simply have to be willing to let go in order to hold on to something else. Scott did this, and in my book it makes him legendary.
Oh, by the way, his book is entitled "Picture Perfect: Designing the New American Family Home," by Scott Sanders. You can purchase it right here through my Amazon.com associates link on this page.
Legendary BlissThe man of the hour is someone I have long admired. Scott Sanders left a management position to come to New York to work as a sales associate while he went back to school so he could make a major career change. He had reached a point where he was compelled to follow his bliss, and had the courage to follow through. It has paid off for him, after all the book is not only a compilation of his interior design work, but a journal of his career, his inspiration and the people he has met along his way.
Scott speaks very eloquently of the influence of his family roots. He is not abashed to admit his taste comes from his mom and grandmothers. What makes this even more interesting, is that he expresses his "genetic taste" through very feminine colors (shades of blue), accentuated by the masculine (fire engine red, orange and yellow). His childhood clip file of magazine photos along with his own drawings are the visible seeds of his passion. Family means a lot to him and it shows in the homes he has created for his clients.
He could have stayed in retail management and had a lucrative career, I'm certain. However, I think his free time, his dream time would have continued to be spent drawing and sketching fantasy houses/ homes for a community of fantasy people. How much better that he said yes to his creative impulses and turned his passion into his career!
In one of my earlier pieces, I wrote that however high you throw your heart, the rest of you will follow. As all of the people who write motivational books tell us, if you are following your bliss, working with your passion, your work ceases to be a job. We simply have to be willing to let go in order to hold on to something else. Scott did this, and in my book it makes him legendary.
Oh, by the way, his book is entitled "Picture Perfect: Designing the New American Family Home," by Scott Sanders. You can purchase it right here through my Amazon.com associates link on this page.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Isn't That The Way They Say It Goes?
"Operator, can you help me with this call?" There's a phrase right out of a lexicon of the past! Not only are there no operator assisted calls, but there aren't many operators. Today communication is all a "twitter" with instant messaging, emails, texting. The human voice is bound to become a victim of natural selection, the "use it or lose it" evolution.
No longer will we be wooed by a sweet voice at our ear, but rather the rapid clicking of a keypad. Humans will become creatures with extended thumbs and index fingers. Actually, we've seen this before. Oh, yes, the hands and feet of the great apes! Are we then "devolving?"
The apes seen on National Geographic verbalize with one another. They observe one another so carefully that they pick nits, and smoothe the appearance of one another. If humans were to do that, they would have to set down their iPhones, Blackberries, or cellphones. Furthermore, the stars of National Geographic, are always on the lookout for a mate, tracking their children, searching for and sharing food, watching for danger. I recently learned that Oranutangs are models of sharing. They give away half of anything they find to eat. By comparison, humans have developed to the point that they can text while driving or walking down a sidewalk, somehow with the full understanding that it is everyone else's responsibility to clear their way. When it comes to health care or food, well, "survival of the richest" overrides any natural instinct to preserve the species.
Technology offers instantaneous communication as abbreviations, a sort of techie shorthand, all on a hand sized, hand-held keypad. Every advance we make, takes something away in the name of progress. Soon we will be incredulous when the "old folk" talk about the days when a man appreciated a great pair of women's legs, or breasts. Men were worshiped for their broad shoulders and chisled chests. The youngsters will giggle and ask, "But how could they text with those?" Those extended thumbs will be the new "turn-ons." We are approaching the point where to remember what it was like to be human in the "old days" we will have to watch National Geographic. By observing the behavior of the great apes, perhaps we will see what used to be so great about being human.
Isn't That The Way They Say It Goes?No longer will we be wooed by a sweet voice at our ear, but rather the rapid clicking of a keypad. Humans will become creatures with extended thumbs and index fingers. Actually, we've seen this before. Oh, yes, the hands and feet of the great apes! Are we then "devolving?"
The apes seen on National Geographic verbalize with one another. They observe one another so carefully that they pick nits, and smoothe the appearance of one another. If humans were to do that, they would have to set down their iPhones, Blackberries, or cellphones. Furthermore, the stars of National Geographic, are always on the lookout for a mate, tracking their children, searching for and sharing food, watching for danger. I recently learned that Oranutangs are models of sharing. They give away half of anything they find to eat. By comparison, humans have developed to the point that they can text while driving or walking down a sidewalk, somehow with the full understanding that it is everyone else's responsibility to clear their way. When it comes to health care or food, well, "survival of the richest" overrides any natural instinct to preserve the species.
Technology offers instantaneous communication as abbreviations, a sort of techie shorthand, all on a hand sized, hand-held keypad. Every advance we make, takes something away in the name of progress. Soon we will be incredulous when the "old folk" talk about the days when a man appreciated a great pair of women's legs, or breasts. Men were worshiped for their broad shoulders and chisled chests. The youngsters will giggle and ask, "But how could they text with those?" Those extended thumbs will be the new "turn-ons." We are approaching the point where to remember what it was like to be human in the "old days" we will have to watch National Geographic. By observing the behavior of the great apes, perhaps we will see what used to be so great about being human.
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