DeeEl's Mo Chroí Scríofa

Sombody!!

I have barred the door as I feel the mob gathering to charge, armed with clubs and torches.  Words that have been slowly mulling in my mind for years spewed out into an astonishing reality in my dreams last night.  The song that resounded over and over and over in my dream was one that Frank Sinatra made famous, “You’re Nobody, Til Somebody Loves You”.  I am a fan of Ole Blue-eyes, but I must admit, this song has left me confused.  The song implies that you can’t be somebody till someone else loves you, however the end tells you to go and find someone to love.  How does finding someone for you to love cause them to love you and thereby make you a somebody?  This had been my life’s theme for a long time as I didn’t feel as if anyone loved me and therefore I was a nobody.

Not long ago I was watching a crime drama on television.  Before this girl went missing and was ultimately found dead, she reached out to an FBI agent that she remembered due to his kindness towards her.  Alas, the FBI agent, through the entire show, could not remember her.  She had been, after all, a lowly receptionist where he used to work.  In other words, a nobody.  While the agent never remembered her, he did try to change his ways at the end to be more aware and more mindful of those who were seemingly of less importance.

In my dream last night, the part I remember most, an older woman had passed away.  Another woman, who turned out to be her daughter, read off a list of the dead woman’s accomplishments.  I felt impressed by all she had done.  However, the orator stopped abruptly without finishing and blurted out, “In other words, a nobody”.  I snapped my head up and snatched the paper away and reprimanded, “No, she WAS somebody”.  Then, as I began to berate the daughter, I woke up.

What makes one person more valuable than another?

Why should one race, religion or nationality be more vital than any other?

Every person, every human being IS somebody!

Just because one cleans toilets for a living while another lives off his trust-fund, doesn’t make either less important.  Just because one owns many multimillion dollar homes and businesses while another lives on the streets and scrounges for food,  does not make either more of a person.

I once heard a story that Donald Trump was in his limousine when it got a flat tire in a rain storm.  A passer-by changed the tire and Mr. Trump wanted to repay him.  The man left his business card and only asked that Mr. Trump send his wife a dozen roses.  However, the “generous” Mr. Trump sent her dozens of roses and paid off the man’s mortgage.  Whether or not this tale is true, I don’t know.  But I wonder, does Mr. Trump even know anything about the people who clean his toilets everyday?  Or are they faceless nobodies to him?

No, this is not a bash against Mr. Sinatra nor Mr. Trump.  Due to illness I sit in my home pretty much all day, every day.  The only “human” contact I have is on the internet.  People do not drop by nor call just to chat.  To them, I suppose, I am just an unemployed nobody not worthy of the time in their busy day.  But that’s okay.  Think about all the people you encounter every day.  Office workers you hardly glance at as they rush by on their way to the lunchroom.  The receptionist who manages so much for you, you don’t know about.  The person on the street you bump into while trying to talk on your cellphone.  Nobodies to you, but somebody who is just as important as you think you are.

Devastation In Haiti

On Tuesday, January 12, 2010, an earthquake measuring 7.0 on the Richter Scale struck the country of Haiti leaving devastation in its wake.  This is the first earthquake of this magnitude to hit the country in a century.  I have, watched passively the news casts containing graphic photos of the pain and destruction.  I spent a week in Haiti back in 1989.  During this week I celebrated my 24^th birthday.  While I did not go to Haiti to celebrate my birthday, it was an added bonus while I was there.  One of the shots shown on the news was the, now flattened, National Palace.  I looked away fast as tears began to well up in my eyes.  I remembered the day I took this photograph of that same National Palace.  Now it is rubble.

There have been so many thoughts going through my mind the past week since the story first broke of the earthquake.  I think about other natural disasters in recent history around the world.  I think about the loss.  And yes, I think about the time I spent there all those years ago.  I fortify my thoughts by looking through my scrapbook and remembering as if it were last week I was there.  As I look, listen and remember I find myself experiencing a wide range of emotions as well.  Sadness and heartbreak for all those who are there or have loved ones there.  I also feel relief as I know it could have been much worse.

The other emotion that seems to have taken over is anger.  Not because this happened, but anger over the reactions of some Americans.  I can understand they are grieving as their loved ones were there when the earthquake struck and have still not been found.  My issue is with them thinking and crying out as if American lives are of more value than other lives around the world.  There are still many Canadians, Europeans and especially Haitians unaccounted for.  There are over 100 UN staffers missing as well.  I hear the pleas of Americans begging the President of the United States to do everything possible to find the missing Americans.  Why are their lives more valuable?  From what I have seen in news reports the world around is sending aid in some form or fashion to try to find the missing and bring comfort and relief to the rest of the country.  There is nothing more that can be done than is already being done.

Human life is human life.  One life is not of more value than any other.  Narrow mindedness breeds resentment.  It is okay to grieve and want your loved ones back safely, but when you believe they are more important than another persons loved one, you make way for resentment.  I hope they find all those who are missing no matter their skin color, religion or nationality.  Hold good thoughts for all those who are missing, those who are injured, those who died and all their loved ones around the world.  Remember Haiti in all her beauty and splendor.  Like the grandeur found in this, the oldest church in Haiti.

Getting A Job In A Recession = FRUSTRATION

Being out of work for nearly 15 months has given me pause to consider many things.  To start, I hit the rewind button and go back to September ’08.  The boss came in and let me know what he would be telling all the other employees two hours later (a meeting I couldn’t attend do to a doctor’s appointment).  He began by sitting down and pulling his chair over and said that the decision was made to run the station with only two employees.  He was not one of the employees who would be remaining either.  This was devastating.  I went to keep my appointment and then stopped at the package store on the way home.  I sent e-mails to those I had obligations to that weekend (it was a Friday) to advise I would NOT be in any condition to honor those obligations that weekend.  I then proceeded to plunge into the bottles of tequila, rum and Kahlua I brought home with me.  I remained in a state of shock thinking it was just a dream.  Even after October 31st (the last day of work for all of us) came and went, I was numb with shock (no I did not finish all of the contents of my bottles that weekend, nor did I imbibe continuously).

I finally began looking at things with open eyes (after using my already soaked handkerchief to dry my eyes).  I knew that due to my health I would not be able to get another regular job until I could regain more of my stamina lost from my chronic illness.  I also watched the unemployment numbers soar both locally as well as nationally.  To say I was scared is an understatement.  I had already considered the possibility of my needing to do freelance writing as my physical condition worsened.  But I never anticipated being thrown into it.  I mustered every ounce of focus I could to put things together.  I began by making the decision to start my own business and become a freelance writer.  I then set about reading and studying and putting money into the things I would need to help me along the way.  I even went to a writer’s conference in New York City (Oy vey, what a trip).  Some writer friends shared links to sites where they bid for jobs.

I took an online career test to help me figure out my direction.  The test determined I should be a writer or work in a museum.  I thought, why not put them together and write about museums and historical events.  I laid it all out in my head and then on paper.  I knew the types of magazines and publications I could submit to.  I bought a small camera outfit to add photos to my work for better sales opportunities.  With the help of a friend (the best graphic designer any where.  Just check out my website and other blogs to see her work) I set up my website to begin “pimping” myself out.   I was going in the right direction.  Then I came to a screeching halt.  I realized that I didn’t have a clue about how to get to that place I wanted to be.  I attempted to ask those who have been in the business on a large scale for a long time and was pretty much shut out.  Two even said they would help me and make an appointment with me to just sit down and talk and then they avoided me like the plague.  I guess they saw that I have the talent and they felt I wanted to take over their jobs and clients.  Oh well.

As time has worn on in my endeavors I have grown more and more discouraged.  It doesn’t help when I see those I know with jobs and making an income complain how much they hate their jobs.  I would love to trade with them.  It seems that those who complain about their jobs get all kinds of sympathy from everyone else (I am speaking of status updates on various social networks).  However, when I have made comments voicing my frustration and discouragement from being unemployed and the lack of prospects, I get met with short, bitter statements like “move” or “get over it princess”.   Then there are those who pose questions and when I answer them in a realistic manner (not saying I am giving up totally) they make it sound like I am saying I am doomed and will find nothing.  It seems all of the advise and “encouragement” is coming from those who have at least one household income, their health and continual moral support and encouragement.

Doors get closed (some in your face).  Opportunities fizzle.  Unemployment funds run out.  Bank accounts dry up.  Desperation sets in.  Some folks turn to robbing and conning to get money to pay their bills and put food on the table.  Others take what little money they have and “invest” it in the lottery.  I have been tempted at both of these.  Especially seeing the billboard which brags that the Power Ball is up to $30 Million for the week.    The former, I blew off steam by IMing a friend that I am considering white-collar crime.  Then I can be sent to prison and have my needs taken care of and just spend my days writing.  I even jokingly posted a status update asking if someone could teach me how to get rid of my conscience so I could indulge in criminal behavior since it pays better than being out of work.  I can understand why people turn to this kind of behavior, but I don’t condone it.

The only thing worse than trying to find work during a recession would be to try to find work during a depression.  That is economical or emotional.  So what is one to do in this situation?  There are the optimists who would say to make some lemonade out of these lemons.  Then the pessimists who would tell us to just stay in bed it will never work out anyway.  Cynics?  nothing matters anyway, so why bother.  Nothing I have covered is news.  Well, perhaps you didn’t know about my weekend binge.  I am venting my own frustrations of not being able to get a viable job in the middle of a recession.  Yes, I said middle of.  I know the President and all his mouth pieces have said the recession is ending, but when you have no job and none in sight it is like trying to see the end of your car while driving in the middle of a fog in East Tennessee.  You can’t see that far.

Resolution To Resolve

The new year was ushered in a week ago.  Immediately people were buzzing about their resolutions for 2010.  Statistics have shown that more gym memberships are sold in the month of January than any other month of the year.  Memberships in weight-loss programs skyrocket.  Smoking cessation programs are entered into by the droves.  These acts are good for the people selling these products, but what happens after the initial resolution is passed?

A resolution is a declaration to make a change.  This can be a good thing, if the resolution declared is seen through to the end or determined outcome.  Unfortunately, but February and March the gyms empty out and the weight-loss programs see a drastic decline in numbers and sales.  The smokers find warm places to indulge and ease the stress they encounter trying to quit.  Dose this make the New Years Resolution something that we should take with the mentality that it will fail so why bother indulging?

It seems that making resolutions should be goals that can be kept and should be made and revisited throughout the year.  I have also considered another facet to this annual melee folks seem fascinated with.  All the resolutions are individual.  I propose more global resolutions.  Last week reading the newspaper (yes, the one you hold in your hands and get newsprint all over your fingers) I looked at the editorial comic and pondered.  The parents were putting the Christmas decorations away and the son was watching and questioning.  Sticking out of cartons were a couple of banners.  One read “Peace On Earth” and the other “Good Will toward Men”.  I quickly understood the meaning in this cartoon.  It seems that along with the decorations, we pack away peace and good will as well.  there was the usual quote in the Editorial section and it seemed to me to go hand-in-hand with this cartoon “Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.”  ~~  Peg Bracken.

These commodities which are part of everyone’s vocabulary in November and December seem to fade or get packed away when the season ends.  Peace, good will, time and love should be as much a part of our lives and vocabulary in June and July as they are in November and December.  We should set more global resolutions that we can follow through with not only the rest of the year, but the rest of our lives.  I am not talking about scheduling a trip every year to take money to third world countries.  We cannot reach out to those across the globe when we can’t even open our hearts to accept our next door neighbor for who they are.  Making thing better or striving for peace is not about changing the other person.  It is about changing our own hearts to accept them for who they are and what they are.

Sometimes it is even closer than the next door.  There are many people around the world who can’t even accept the differences in the souls who reside in their own house, their own family.  Accepting doesn’t mean changing that person to be like you or believe the way you do.  The change is in your heart and seeing that person as a human being, a soul.  All human beings deserve to be seen as individuals.  Resolve this year to be accepting of others to visualize an end that includes a world that is able to live more peaceably.  Set a resolution to resolve a change in your own heart to provoke change around the world.

Learning The Heart

I started writing more than 30 years ago when I was in the 7th grade in junior high.  I wrote a blog post a while back about how I got my start writing and being able to communicate my heart to others through poetry.  I had been writing for nearly five years when I graduated from high school.  Each year at the time of graduations our congregation would honor the graduates during a service and then present them with a gift, usually a book to offer guidance as they set out on a new and wonderful adventure.  On June 5, 1983 I was one of six in the congregation graduating.  We were presented a book of poetry and verse.  I was told that when they were deciding what to present, I was the one who came to mind.  They chose that particular book because I have a way of “reading between the lines”.  I was a stupid 17 year old kid and, while I felt honored, I didn’t have the slightest idea what was meant by these words.

It wasn’t till more than twenty years later that I would be able to really feel the honor that was bestowed that day.  I had heard the term reading between the lines before, but I don’t think I actually understood it to its fullest meaning.  I have never set out to be special or try to do things that are different from everyone else.   I think it is just that I see things from my hearts point of view and thus find different meanings in the way things are spoken and written.  After my book was released, I had a friend come to my house and ask me to sign a few copies so she and her mama could give them as gifts.  I sat looking at her and the books pondering what to write.  They wanted me to address them to certain people, write something and then sign the book.  I didn’t want to be like everyone else.  I have received autographed books and had a few signed personally as well.  I either get just a signature or “Best wishes” and a signature.  Then my mind went back to the person who told me I have a way of reading between the lines.  I had my autograph.

It made sense to me to do it this way.  There is so much to be learned when you go outside the box or in this case read between the lines.  So often we go through the motions of everything we do.  Our lives are so routine that we can drive our cars from point A to point B and sometimes wonder what happened in between.  We read the paper (or the on-line news) and it is all the same unless something really juts out and is different.  Try taking a breath and look at things from a different point of view.  Go outside the box, read between the lines and there you will find pleasure.

FIND PLEASURE BETWEEN THE LINES!!

Too Much To Ask?

I have been contemplating this post for quite some time now.  We go to supermarkets here in the states and you cannot get the sale price listed on the items and in the circular ads unless you have that particular stores savings card.  I have seen many people with at least a dozen of said cards on their keyrings for both supermarkets and drugstores.  What happened to the days when you could walk into any store and save?  Long gone are the days of having one or two markets in a town.  Now we must chose which card we desire to carry or have a dozen of them in our billfolds or cluttering up our keyrings.  I went into an Ingles Market once and the girl at the cash register asked if I had an Ingles card.  There are only two of these markets in town and neither are near my home.  I politely said I did not have one and the girl just looked at me and laughed.  I looked at her, gave a sarcastic chuckle and left without buying anything.  Another store I didn’t have a store card for (can’t recall which) the cashier got into an ugly discussion with me when I said I didn’t want the card as I rarely shopped there and it wasn’t worth my time to fill out the paper and then to carry the card.  Finally, I gave up and just left.  My choices are being limited because of the merchandisers desire to control the population.

Generally I have done my weekly marketing at Food City.  I get good customer service for the most part at the main store I shop in.  The one that used to be closest to my home (practically across the street till it closed) I would always get bad customer service.  The last time there, I told the girl at the customer service desk who was ringing up my items that I would not be returning and she leaned across the counter and said that it was okay, because she wouldn’t even shop in that store.  What a representative for the store.  I did have to lodge a couple complaints at the two primary locations I go to due to milk going bad.  I was led to believe that my complaint was not the only complaint.  I found I could get good milk at Walmart and started doing my marketing there.  Produce is the main thing I would go to Food City for.  It has been my experience that the produce sold in Walmart, no matter how nice it looks, isn’t the best.

This morning I got up and went to Food City desiring some fresh produce.  It was snowy, but I went anyway.  I arrived at the store closest to my home (about 3 miles) and went in to begin my excursion.  There was a gentleman there buffing the floors.  It seems he followed me around the store with his machine which emitted fumes that left me feeling dizzy and nauseous.  The produce was less than attractive.  The kosher section has diminished to almost non-existent.  The stock clerks had their giant stock-laden hand carts placed strategically so that a shopper could not get to items they desired to look at and possibly purchase.  I gave up.  We are living in tough times financially.  I am at an even tougher disadvantage as I have (like so many these days) been out of work for over 14 months and have no income in sight.  If I am going to pay the already outrageous prices for things, then I should get quality products.

By the time I got to the self-checkout I had already decided I would not be returning to this particular store.  It would be well worth the gas to schlep across town to the other location I frequent to purchase what I need.  I do try to go to that side of town once a week to run other errands and can easily fit this in.  I decided that in stead of just leaving and not returning, I would tell a manager why.  I had to drawl the attention of someone who just looked at me like I had three heads and ask about a manager.  The front-end manager was conversing with the operator of the wretched machine which followed me around the store.  She came over and I began.  I also reiterated my complaint about the milk and she indicated I am not the only one with that issue, just no one seems to know why it is bad.  I told her that I didn’t feel I should pay all that money for less than perfect merchandise and would spend the extra gas to go across town to another location of Food city.  She wanted me to wait till she could call someone else.  I was not happy, it was getting late.  I had groceries to get home and put away.  It was still snowing and I was still feeling the affects of the buffer.  I gave her my business card and left.

No store is perfect.  The checkout clerks at Walmart still don’t know the meaning of the word “everything”.  I say divide everything between my two bags and they still leave out the milk and other items saying they didn’t think I meant those to go in.  Everything, means everything.  You still find some customer service personnel who are having a bad day.  But is it too much to ask for to get quality for the money we have to pay?  If all we do is complain about these things to our friends and family, or in a blog post, then we get nothing, except the satisfaction of venting.  If you are having issues with poor quality in products or continued bad customer service then tell the proper people.  Speak to the manager while you are in the store since it is fresh and can be confirmed immediately.  If you have lodged complaints with the manager, write a letter to the corporate office.  Always keep a copy of the letter for your records.  Venting can be useful to help you get the ill feelings out of your system, but it can also lead to others who have had similar experiences.  Get them to file complaints as well.  having handled complaints for a company at one time and actually initiating the conversations to find any complaints, I speak from both sides.  let the proper people know what the problems is.  On the other hand, also let them know when they are dong things right. We all like compliments and giving the right compliments can keep things good in the establishments you frequent.  Then pass the good words along to the rest of the world.