Focused at Fifty

During one of our "on the road" conversations the other morning, my sister Sheryl and I remarked to each other about how not many people take the time to write out a thank you card anymore. Now I am not talking about the verbal expression, although that has fallen into disuse as well these days. A verbal thank you is better of course than nothing. I am talking about the written expression of thank you. In our increasingly instant messaging society, written thank yous are a dying breed. They are going the way of birthday cards, holiday cards, and telephone landlines. People have stopped sending cards and instead Twitter or Facebook “Happy Birthday” or “Merry Christmas."  When it comes to the Facebook "Happy Birthday," I admit it; I am guilty as charged. We, as a society, have become so wrapped up in our own lives, that the quick electronic greeting is now becoming acceptable! Also, people no longer call each other for Sunday evening calls to find out how the ext...

I have only ever been summoned for jury duty once while living in Pennsylvania. Everyone can now let out their collective groans and say "Ugh!" I know that’s just what I did. For years, I had avoided jury duty by not being in the right place at the right time. My number just didn’t “come up.” I was moving every other year from apartment to apartment in different neighborhoods in Philly. I moved from Society Hill to Graduate Hospital to Rittenhouse Square to Olde City to the Art Museum neighborhood. And I am  thankful that the wonderfully "slow on jury duty paperwork" City of Philadelphia just never pegged me down for the time honored tradition of jury duty. It was June of 1998 when I moved out to Media, PA in Delware County and I loved it. I was living there happily for a couple years in suburban bliss when one day I received that letter marked JURY DUTY that everyone hates to get! I was to report to the court house in one month's time and take my me...

A new segment in my blog will be photos, architecture, sculpture, and artwork that I have studied, admired, or just been blown away by! I hope you enjoy them as much as I have. ***I do not own these photographs and are just displaying them for educational purposes. Man Ray "Tears" 1930 I have always been in love with the Surrealist photographer Man Ray. This is one of my all time favorites. Dorthea Lange "Destitute peapickers in California; a 32 year old mother of seven children, February 1936" 1936     I always felt the mother in this photograph looked so worn out, so sad, without hope. It conveys such feelings of struggle and emotional exhaustion. Charis Wilson "Nude" 1936 I love the angularity of the woman's body in this photograph. Robert Mapplethorpe "Grace Jones" 1988 I love this picture by Mapplethorpe. Grace Jones has such a haunting look about her. I particularly like her eyes.

One of the things I enjoy about getting older are the good conversations that I have with others. In my 20's and 30's, conversations could range from being passionate about causes or just gossiping with friends. I still do this, but I realize a couple of things. Even though I may be passionate about a cause, such as saving the rain forests, I now listen to the other side and think about what they are saying. I have learned that listening in a conversation is just as important as correctly articulating my point. I also still like to gossip. I admit it. But this gets rather boring after awhile. You hear the same stories: who is sleeping with who; who is heading off to rehab; what is the hottest trend; etc. etc. Since I have turned 40 and am progressing headfirst towards 41, I realize I enjoy really good stimulating conversation. I drive each day about an hour back and forth to work, the same boring drive 48 miles to Allentown. Before Mom passed away, I would have conversations...

I don't smoke, I never have. I really don't care if you do, that is your health and your decision. I know my mother's smoking directly contributed to major health problems including lung cancer, brain cancer, and liver cancer. Food for thought. Whoever delivers newspapers in the morning to the set of mailboxes in front of my house constantly drops their "butts" on the ground. Besides it aggravating me because it is littering, I hate the fact that those damn cigarette butts take years to biodegrade. Specifically, one butt can take 3-10 months to decompose. Some say it can take as much as 12 years. The filter, which if made up of acetate, will never full break down.  Information is available on this, look it up on the internet. The Palmetto Pride organization of Myrtle Beach, SC have a great campaign. Their website is http://www.palmettopride.org/ . Check it out. They have put out drink coasters at various bars which argue against littering with your cigarette...

Definition of a "pipe dream" according to Wikipedia: A pipe dream is a fantastic hope or plan that is generally regarded as being nearly impossible to achieve, originating in the 19th century as an allusion to the dreams experienced by smokers of opium pipes. I love the origination of this term! I used to think that writing on an active basis, much less having a blog, was my pipe dream. Now I just think getting paid for it is. Ha ha.  I still have other pipe dreams I have yet to see come to life.  I am afraid my pipe dream list may one day segue into a bucket list. Definition of "Shanghai'd" according to Wikipedia: Shanghaiing refers to the practice of conscripting men as sailors by coercive techniques such as trickery, intimidation, or violence. Those engaged in this form of kidnapping were known as crimps. Until 1915, unfree labor was widely used aboard American merchant ships. The related term press gang refers specifically to impressment practices in...

My earliest memory was of my Mom and I. I was 2 or 3 and had managed to climb out of my crib in the apartment we were living at The Crossings in Glassboro, NJ. I clearly remember swinging one leg over and then the other and basically falling onto the 70's carpet below. I wandered down the hallway and surprised her in the kitchen. She wasn't upset but she was a little shocked that I had figured out how to get out. "What are you doing Marc!" she said surprised.  I said "I got out Mommy!" "You sure did!" Another of my earliest memories was drinking out of a glass for the very first time. It was apple juice, sweet, and I remember holding so tightly with both hands while in the kitchen. I was a green juice glass. It seemed so big and heavy at the time. In retrospect, I figure my hands were just so small. I was so proud of myself. I said to Mom, “Look Mommy I am drinking just like a big kid!” She smiled and agreed. No more bottle for me! I have fond me...