Focused at Fifty

After deciphering Charlotte's rambling message, John and I decided to donate a bunch of Christmas ornaments for her to use on the school tree. I called her back one evening to let her know we would be bringing some over. "Hell-ooo??" Charlotte asked answering the phone in a sing songy voice. "Hey Charlotte, it's Marc from next door. How ya doin." "Why hello Marc from next door. I am fine."  There was an awkward pause .... "Uh well, I wanted to tell you that John and I are gonna bring you over some Christmas ornaments." "Well, I don't know why ... I haven't got a Christmas tree...." "Uh... you said you wanted some ornaments." "I don't think I did, because I  haven't got a tree this year, just my decorations out front. I put up the lights and the garland. I have a wreath for the side door and a wreath out front and ...." "Charlotte!" I interupted laughing. "Not f

I was in a large department store when I overheard this conversation. To my right, was a young Asian man of about 18 or 20 who was speaking into his cell phone in an Asian language I did not recognize or even try to guess.  I was busy looking at shirts when I heard the conversation begin. I quickly ducked behind the ties so I could listen in. A thirty something father with his young son looked at the young Asian man and said, "Konichiwa."  Now I don't profess to know any Asian language but I do know that this is a Japanese greeting. The young Asian man halted his phone conversation, turned to the father and responded in English, "I'm South Korean." The American man replied, "So? What's the difference?"   YES HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT. The young Asian dude politely and calmly responded to him, "Well, you said 'Konichiwa' which is Japanese. I am South Korean and am speaking Korean." "Oh ... I dunno the dif

 When I was a child, I used to hate peas. My Mom always served them for dinner and I just couldn’t stand them. I would hide them under the chicken bones, under mashed potatoes, under noodles, or even in my napkin. It was a very dramatic event, trying to get Marc to eat his peas. Mom and Dad would tell me that I couldn’t leave the dinner table until I ate them. I would hold out and once even sat there for an hour after dinner until Mom finally gave in and let me go. There the peas sat on my plate, cold and mushy. I think it had to do with the peas being canned. They may have been hot when served, but still ended up being mushy. Mom bought the canned peas because they were readily available and more importantly, cheap! Once we could afford the splurge of fresh frozen peas, with their fresh “snap” when you ate them, the tide began to turn for those peas. Now they still weren’t my favorite, but they were now palatable. There are a lot of foods I disliked as a kid but began to

One Christmas, many years ago back in the late 70’s, my grandparents from Colorado came to visit us for a week over the holiday break. I was about 9 at the time. It was Christmas morning and we had all opened our gifts, had breakfast, and were just relaxing in the living room going through our new toys and presents. My brother Adam, a year older, had gone upstairs for about 30 minutes and came down dressed as Santa Claus wearing his red bathroom stuffed with newspaper for a belly. He has fashioned a white beard out of cotton balls and was walking around to everyone saying “Merry Christmas!!!” It was really cute and he did such a good job until I started getting antsy. Feeling left out of the limelight (imagine that), I got up from my seat on the couch and much to everyone’s dismay, tore off his cotton beard while yelling dramatically, “YOU’RE NOT SANTA! YOU’RE AN IMPOSTER!” and effectively ruined his holiday show. Santa Adam, started crying and ran up to his room screaming, “You’ve

By now, most of you know of my beloved neighbor Charlotte, a feisty 70 something woman with a small side of daffiness which adds to her wonderful personality. She is extremely active in her church and volunteers at the local school. She called John and I the other week asking for holiday ornaments to decorate the tree in her school.  Below is the 'word for word' message that she left on our answering machine. We were touched by her sincerity with a bit of chuckling from the rambling nature of it. I think we have all been there though, rambling on someone's voice-mail until you are unceremoniously cut off! Try and follow it now! Charlotte leaving her message: "Marc. Hi John. No need to worry, it's Charlotte, your neighbor ... next door. We're doing a multiple Christmas celebration on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, whatever it is for whatever we celebrate the birth of and whatever the celebration is for the holiday season. Do you have anything we can us

I had a twentysomething woman in my office the other week that could not read or write. She could sign her name but just barely. When I asked her to write down her children’s names because they were oddly spelled, she could not. Her children's father had to write down their names. It was very sad. Adult illiteracy is still prevalent in our county. According to the US Education Department, 14% of adults in the USA cannot read or write with basic proficiency. I remember back to the 1st grade when I was beginning to read. I actually remember Mrs. Broomall, my 1st grade teacher from Wenonah Elementary leading our small reading group of 6 classmates. We sat in a semicircle reading from a Dick and Jane story with Spot the dog. I remember looking at the three word sentence and sounding it out. "See Spot run."  I am proud of this memory; my first true memory of reading on my own. As we progressed with reading, I remember reading a children’s book in 1st grade on an young girl

One recent evening out at the bar, a couple I was speaking with asked me about my plans for the holidays. I started talking about celebrating Hanukkah and Christmas and living in a multi-religious household. I was raised and am Jewish, but my father is Christian, and I actively celebrate those holidays for him and other Christian members of my family. And honestly, I just love Christmas! At a table next to theirs was seated two good friends who I will call Michelle and Rihanna, whose nice evening was crashed rather abruptly by another woman who frequently drinks to the point of embarrassing inebriation. I will call her Mrs. Tequila. I actually had wanted to just say hi to my two friends Michelle and Rihanna but Mrs. Tequila wasn’t budging, so I chose to be polite and say hi to her as well. It just so happened though that I had caught Mrs. Tequila before she had begun imbibing so I figured it was safe. Little did I know... Mrs. Tequila had overheard me telling the older couple that