Wednesday, October 31, 2007

UFOs - My Sister Kerrin Had a Plan (politicians see them too). I want one!!!!

Well no, I haven't seen one for sure. But I wish I did. I thought I did a few times. I hope I will. Poor Dennis Kucinich tried to explain with dignity, from the platform of the Democratic debate a few years ago, that he had seen a UFO, and then tried to validate himself by saying "Jimmy Carter saw one too!" He pretty well cooked his goose with that one. But now that UFOs are fodder for presidential debate, then laughed off and brushed under the rug by everyone in the media or the public eye who wants to be taken seriously, I think there needs to be a little affirmative action for those of us who still believe. We are innocents in a cynical world!

Eons ago, when I was ten and had a fearful heart, I asked my eight year old sister what she would do if a flying saucer landed and a martian started walking up to her. This question was not really so odd coming from an introspective child in the first few decades after Orson Welles sent a nation into panic with his Halloween '38 broadcast of the War of the Worlds. And the topic was a schoolyard curiosity for those of us who had heard whispered denials about Roswell.

My sister's answer was so good that I was nearly consumed to ashes by flames of jealousy right then and there on my mother's kitchen stoop. She thought for a little bit, coyly twisting her beribboned blonde ponytails as I, an intense and ribbonless brunette, stared at her from behind bandaged eyeglasses. "Well," she said, "I would get a chair and ask him if he wanted to sit down and then I would ask him if he wanted a glass of water."

This made so much sense to me that I immediately decided to find this little martian and outdo my sister's hospitality, come hell or high water. And I did date a few. But alas! never found my own personal E.T.

Who knows what wonders God hath wrought? There's universe upon universe, the scientists are saying now. Surely a few unidentified flying objects needn't send us into a lather of defense. Anyone smart enough to get here could very well teach us a thing or two. It could be fascinating and exhilarating for every single person on earth. Clap your hands if you believe!

So I'm watching the skies and loving little Dennis Kucinich. He didn't need to be president but I'm glad he got a shot at stating his case. If those aliens ever do land, I hope it's in my sister's field. She'll set a pretty little table and treat them good.

Casting a Spell on Hallowe'en

One of my daughters called from far away and asked if I was ready for Halloween, She told me it was her favorite holiday when she was young because the house felt so magical. I live away from the hurly burly of town and don't have many trick-or-treaters anymore, but I know my precious 2-year-old granddaughter Maya will come by, and that is inspiration aplenty. I have always loved to cast a spell on this wonderful night. Or rather, I allow the night to cast a spell on me. It's easy! Here's how.
Put on a cape. Put a pumpkin on the porch and hang up a respectable looking litttle skelton (not a silly or scary looking one), to remind you of your mortality. Set out a bowl of apples from the farm market, a kind of apple you don't usually eat, a true tasting apple that tastes like it just came off the tree. No mass-market red delicious, try McIntosh or Winesap.
Make the house smell like it should. Get out the dark molasses and bake some gingerbread. Put some cider in a pot on the stove and add cinnamon sticks and cloves. If you have the spot, build a big fire in the fireplace. Have plenty of low light in every room of the house, but no overhead lights, just candles and lamps with soft bulbs. I have a wall sconce that holds half a dozen candles- perfect for this night. Put on Van Morrison or Bob Dylan or whatever you love, full blast. Lay out some Hawthorne and Poe books. Hope to see a beautiful child at your door. Dance.
Remember that it is All Saints Eve, All Hallows Eve- a tradition regarded in one form or another across history and throughout many cultures, particularly those with Gaelic roots, as a time when the dead are near. With the changing seasons, the death of nature's summer vibrance, the harvest over, the falling of leaves and the natural melancholy of fall, there is a momentary crack in the veneer of life. Stay attuned to the restless spirits wandering free of the grave tonight. Welcome them in. Grant them peace. Hope for wind.

Simply thinner with Whole Body Vibration

People keep asking me what my secret is, they say I look great. I assure them that I feel great too. I look different to them, but they don’t know why. How could they? What I’m doing is pretty new to the world, at least in this context. It’s called Whole Body Vibration and my tool of choice is called a Soloflex. It’s a simple platform that looks like a big skateboard with a little motor underneath. You plug it in and set the speed, and stand, kneel, sit, lay or do asanas on it for five or ten minutes a few times a week, shaking every cell in your body, no matter how deep it is. Most people looking at me wouldn’t discern that I am vibrating but oh boy am I! No stasis in this body!! It’s something I wanted to invent myself because it makes so much sense. But somebody got ahead of me. Must have been a boomer who realized that we need to VIBRATE every cell in our body to face down the last leg of our trip.
Actually it was the Soviets who developed the technology now known as Whole Body Vibration for their cosmonauts back in the day when they first sought means to keep the poor guys strong and toned while aloft.
Thus we now have Soloflex, Power Plate and a rapidly growing legion of vibration platforms to aid us in our ongoing search for ultimate well-being. Lots of gyms have Power Plates now. Sports teams use them for warm up. The platforms are very popular on the golf circuit.. Old folks’ homes have them because it’s believed they build bone and muscle with virtually no effort. The claims, proven and unproven, go on and on. You will have to research and make your own decision at your own risk. As for me, I thank God I purchased it ($300) because I feel so great these days, and I attribute a lot of it to my friend, my vibrator, as my family and friends refer to it. Take heart! Such slurs and innuendoes are part and parcel of the perils one encounters when one is a community trailblazer-- striking out into new vibration territory. Ah yes, this is the focus of endless jokes, and I can handle it pretty well, so it’s all fun. I hope this blog will not bring on such jokes, as I’ve already heard them all and don’t want to hear any more. I am here for the good of the order. My good-natured television repairman saw the thing in the living room (It can slide under the couch) and when I showed him what it was he said “Wait till the guys at the office hear about this one!” So if you’re going to get one – get ready, because the jokes never end. And it’s really fun. And you can be truly innocent.
I am not going to endorse or recommend anything to you, because the jury is still out. It’s all new. I decided to place my bets on it after hours of online research and writing to researchers conducting ongoing experiments who refused to commit til next month or next year when the study is complete. They all caution that you should use only a very low vibration but I am reckless and impulsive and voracious at times, so I always turn it up full blast, I love the energy and the changes it makes, and only time will tell what the damage is, if any. I acknowledge it could be dangerous. There are so many caveats in the literature that you absolutely must and will think twice. No artificial joints, pacemakers, recent surgeries allowed onboard. I wondered “What if I shake loose a clot or a carcinogen that would otherwise have rested peacefully until the end of time?” AH but the energy! I’m taking some chances. And so far I just love the chances I take. It's no secret!

It's Not Dementia. It's ADD!

The coffee ran all over the counter because you forgot to put the pot back. The microwave is suddenly inscrutable, how did you ever know which buttons to push? You can’t find your keys. You sit down at the computer and can’t remember your password.. A word or a name won’t come to your lips. There’s an utterly unfair and terrifying blank but in a few moments the blank fills in and you carry on. These things happened when we were young too. But now we, a generation attuned to our well-being, rush to fear dementia. When you were young and let the coffee spill or forgot your keys or couldn’t remember a name, it was cool. Mighta had a little buzz on, mighta had the kids running all over the house, mighta had a lot going on. Mighta had a long-standing undiagnosed attention deficit disorder. Just a thought.

Remember when ADD wasn’t a buzzword, when the kid in the class who had it was just the smart kid or the bad kid or the teacher’s pet, but not a classified student entitled to all kinds of accommodations and modifications and medications? Well those were our days. We made it through. We dealt with the stimuli - the emerging technologies - television waves, xrays, microwaves, video games, headsets and earphones and gym equipment that now includes (my favorite) Whole Body Vibration equipment. We’re not senile, we’re just ADD for crying out loud! Why wouldn’t we be?

When your body is starting to go and your face is pretty much gone, the path in the wood diverges and you have to choose. Are you going to fight against time and cling to your youth or are you going to segue into the life of the mind and the spirit, those parts of you that are not only intact but still developing?
I am not “letting myself go” by a longshot, but I am calm about the encroaching void. Each day is a gift – I laugh all day long, and not always like a fool. We have to lay down our childish ways – we saw through a glass darkly but will soon see face to face- I want to be sober and upright and clear-headed as possible as I observe the life and the lives unfolding around me. I definitely want to pay attention.

Sixties Blogging

The idea of a blog is hard to grasp for a neophyte boomer. But when I recently complained to a young relative that my dream of writing the great American novel -or any book - was fading, she told me that writing a blog was much much better than writing a book, and that the rewards could be far greater. Really?!?!? How so???

She said that you can reach far more people, and that the number of readers can grow exponentially so much faster than you could ever imagine. She also said that there’s money to be made- that some bloggers eventually “take on” advertisers and make some income. This I find absolutely fascinating, don’t you? Or perhaps you knew it, but just haven’t found the time to make your niche in the blogosphere. And perhaps you have. I’m here to tell you: nothin’ to it but to do it.

I, who write daily and prolifically to my five children who no doubt occasionally gloss over my well-intentioned observations, was quite interested to know that I could cast these nets upon a larger water. You mean someone might actually read and respond??!! Maybe I don’t have to limit myself to a younger and very busy group of readers, all of whom I gave birth to many years ago- yesteryear, when I knew so much and they knew so little.

So who is the audience? What is my voice? What happens if I’m schizo, a Libra, I can see both sides of the coin? I’m not sure what I think! “Just write and keep writing”, saith she. See what the wind blows in, what the cat drags in, what kind of shape I’m in. It’ll take on a life of its own. So be it.