"Collectively Speaking"

   

     With the holidays quickly approaching, I wish to mention two of my favorite charitable organizations, in the hopes that you will include them on your gift list.

     I have long been a supporter of St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, and more recently, The Seeing Eye.  St. Jude’s conducts research and cares for children stricken with cancer, and the Seeing Eye breeds, trains, and provides guide dogs for the blind.

     I have listed both web addresses below for you to peruse.  Please consider becoming a supporter. 

     Please mail your donations to the following addresses:

     St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital

     P.O. Box 50

     Memphis, TN 38101-9929

     The Seeing Eye

     P.O. Box 2068

     Morristown, NJ 07962-9921

I realize times are tough, and many of us, myself included, are out of work. However, I believe that collectively, even small donations can make a difference. Consider this: if each person in my town donated a dollar, it would add up to about $15,000.00.  Please give what you can.

Thank you.  Wishing you all God’s blessings this Holiday Season.

Marcy

http://www.stjude.org

http://www.seeingeye.org

"Stamina, or Lack Thereof"

     The fall semester is winding down quickly.  In just over two weeks, it will be done.  I have been diligent about my school work, as always.  One of my (very young) nieces, also a college freshman, had indicated on her FB page that she was starting to write an eight page paper on the night before it was due.  I also had an eight page paper to write.  I wrote it and turned it in more than a week before it was due. My reasoning, however, was not entirely a result of the heightened sense of responsibility that comes with age. It also has to do with stamina, of which I am sorely lacking. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t pull an all-nighter to complete an assignment. Heck, I don't even stay up to watch the ball come down on New Years Eve. Those days (or should I say nights) are long gone...

Silence

I loathe the silence of my pen

When my inspiration wanes.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

I want to hear her sing again.

I loathe the silence of my pen

When my creativity escapes.

I loathe the silence of my pen,

The echo of emptiness she makes.

I loathe the silence of my pen

For every day and every night.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

I need, once again, to write.    

I loathe the silence of my pen.

She has left me filled with longing.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

It’s my own passion I am wronging.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

Can’t bear that she has been so still.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

I’ll make her write, if by sheer will.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

A writing prompt will show the way.

I loathe the silence of my pen.

Her damnable silence shall cease today.

"Retribution"

      

      As many of you know, the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico deeply disturbed me.  I am happy to have read in the NY Times that BP has finally been held accountable for this environmental disaster.  

     I wrote my poem, Black Bayou, in May 2010, a mere month after the explosion.  In it, I indicated that over 7 million gallons of oil had spilled in the Gulf up to that point.  Here are some astounding numbers:  according to a recent article in the New York Times,  BP had reported that 5000 barrels of oil were spilling into the Gulf daily.  In actuality, the number was in excess of 60,000 barrels per day.  The Times also indicated that an estimated 4.9 million barrels spilled in the accident.  How many gallons are in a barrel? I looked it up: 42 gallons per barrel.  Therefore, more than 2.5 million gallons of oil spilled into the Gulf of Mexico!  Additionally, the NY Times reported that BP pleaded guilty to 14 criminal charges in connection with the spill, and will be paying penalties in excess of $4 billion, over $2 billion of which is going to the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation for remediation efforts.  Furthermore, the Times reported that BP agreed to a settlement of civil charges for having misled investors about the flow rate from the well. At long last, retribution for BP.  Kudos to our Justice Department!

      As for me, I have played my own small part in holding BP accountable, as I have with Exxon, (remember the Exxon Valdez oil spill of 1989?)  I refuse to purchase my gas from either of these companies, ever. I haven’t bought Exxon since 1989, and BP since April 2010.  I realize I am only one person and that this will not impact either company, but it makes me feel better.

"Black Bayou"

The Gulf of Mexico is now filled with oil.
It is a dismal place where no fishermen toil.
They stand in a line awaiting soup and bread.
Thanks to British Petroleum, the fishing industry is dead.

An endless flow of oil, it seems,
Is devouring rivers, marshes, and streams.
Dead and dying animals numbered in scores
Float in the waters and litter our shores.

Helpless animals at the mercy of man
Are left suffering, dying, time and again.
Unparalleled arrogance of a few
Precipitated the demise of the Blue Bayou.

BP officials in their fancy suits
Are living the good life while ignoring the news.
They fly in the face of God with no backup plan,
 No regard for the environment, wildlife, or their fellow man.

The oil's flow is left unabated.
BP's feeble attempts to stop it, overrated.
Over seven million gallons of crude have now spilled
From the hole where these greedy vultures once drilled.

When will the catastrophe come to an end?
It's time to take action, no longer pretend.
Quit leisurely waiting for your pockets to fatten.
Stop pointing fingers, and take significant action.

"Arctic Gale"

     I just arrived home from class, frozen to the bone.  The air conditioner was blowing full force in our lecture hall, for no good reason. The temperature outside is in the 30's.  There is frost on my car's wind shield. Yet a draft that would rival an arctic gale was swirling about the room throughout the entire three hours that we were there.  I was so cold that I had my coat draped over my lap like a grandmother's lap robe-and I didn't care who saw it.  I was so cold that I welcomed a hot flash.  I was so cold that the hot flash didn't help.  I could not have fallen asleep in that class if I wanted to! 

     As you know, last evening I did not attend class, a first for me since returning to college.  Apparently, my professor was less than thrilled with my absence, because...she called me on my cell phone to admonish me!   Talk about feeling juvenile!  (Teachers didn't have this particular luxury back in the 70's when I was in high school!)  Fortunately for me, I didn't answer the phone. ( I never answer if I don't recognize the number.)  The message she left was painful enough.  I won't be skipping that class again!  Though in reality, one of the the qualities I admire about her is her strict manner.  She keeps all of us kiddies in line!

"Rank Has Its Privileges"

     You must be familiar with that saying! Well in this instance, sometimes simply being of a certain age has its privileges!  I am playing hooky from school tonight! (Sounds juvenile, doesn’t it?) It feels really cool to cut a class, and not have to worry about my folks finding out. On top of that, I wrote my own note to the professor excusing myself!  Of course, being absent is not something I make a habit of.  In fact, this is the first time in fourteen months of classes (and six courses) that I am missing one. (When I went to high school, I cut one class-ever-and it was at the end of my senior year. I was always a goodie two shoes). I really do have a valid reason for missing class tonight, although there are some who may not agree with me. Additionally, all of my work is done. No, not the work that is due now-my assignments for the remainder of the semester!  Some of my classmates have yet to take the midterm exam, and that was three weeks ago!  Ah, the nonchalant attitude of youth…

     Last week my other class was cancelled at the last minute.  My professor phoned me and requested that I notify the class (since I was already en route), and also update them on certain assignments.  He indicated that he felt reassured having someone “mature” to handle this for him. I was so proud!  Except that I relayed one minor point incorrectly.  He indicated a particular quiz would be postponed, and I somehow interpreted, and related to the class, that the quiz was cancelled.  I guess Professor should have contacted a young student-one that still has fully functional brain cells. Or maybe it was a toss up: diminished brain cells versus nonchalant attitude. In any event, due to the confusion, the quiz was ultimately cancelled. Thank goodness. I absolutely hated that particular novel…

"Vertigo"

Five mornings in a row

I woke up with vertigo.

I still had to walk my dog,

So off, stumbling, I did go.

     Vertigo is a new ailment. The symptoms just started a week or so ago, and they last for about the first twenty minutes that I am up in the morning. I wobble around the apartment, and outside walking Buddy, my arms extended in the air like a novice surfer, trying to stay balanced. Thirty-something son likens me to an old car that simply needs to be warmed up. I liken him to someone I still have authority to discipline.

     I had my first date with the comedian last evening.  It was the closest thing to a blind date than I have had in more than thirty years.  Relatively speaking, it went pretty well.  I have read and reread my trusty dating manual, “The Rules, Time Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right”. (I’m pretty sure I told you about that book. My best friend picked it out for me…)  My mother told me some of this stuff years ago, but I never believed her.  Now it’s time to test these theories…

      The fellow seems pretty nice.  If he were a woman, I would liken him to a “chatty Cathy”, which is actually good for me, since I tend to be quiet.  (I am only wordy when I write. You know that about me by now).  The strange thing is, he looks a lot like my ex.  A couple of times I near did a double take because of the resemblance…Do you want to hear a very odd coincidence?  I have a favorite road to drive on that is centrally located within the state, in an area that I visit about once per year. It is very rural, with farms on either side.  He lives on that road…How weird is that?  Hopefully, it’s a good omen.

"The Comedian"

     I have had my first phone conversation with the comedian.  He asked me a question that no one ever asked me before: am I retired?  Ouch!

      I am not retired. I consider myself a “semi-senior”.  That’s the “old” version of a “tween”. In case you aren’t familiar with the term, a “tween” is the age of development between child and teenager. A “semi-senior” is no longer young, but not yet old enough to reap the rewards of being a senior, like qualifying for SSI and Senior Citizen discounts.

      I do feel the conversation went quite well. We spoke for 40 minutes. Not bad for a first phone call, right?  Of course, some of that time was chewed up by each of us saying “what”, “excuse me”, “I beg your pardon”, and “could you please repeat that”, and then ultimately repeating ourselves, because neither of us can hear very well.

     I am finally taking the plunge. I am meeting him for lunch this weekend.  I actually only wanted to meet for coffee, but he prefers to eat.  That’s okay with me. At the very least, it’s a meal that I don’t have to cook, or pay for. Fingers crossed!

“I’m Too Old For This…”

Since you walked away from me

The tears I’ve shed could fill a sea.

Though at times I’m happy to be free,

‘Tis a sorrow filled life I lead.    

     You may be wondering why I have incorporated Internet dating into my blog, which mainly is about a 50-something woman returning to college. Well-don’t most college students date?  I don’t always have amusing stories to relate regarding school (it is school, after all), but I am hopeful the Internet dating topic compensates. 

     I have decided to take a leap of courage, and give my phone number to a couple of fellows I’ve been Emailing (and no, not the young one).  Issue number one: the “man of few words” doesn’t like to Email. I don’t like to talk on the phone.  Already, we disagree. However, I relented and provided my phone number.  He called pretty quickly, and I…declined to answer!  He left a voicemail message, which I…retrieved promptly. Here’s another problem. I don’t like the sound of his voice.  I know-I’m anal, and slightly shallow. I always have been, and keep in mind that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.  So now I’m wondering how recent his picture is, because he sounds considerably older than he appears. How do I get out of this one?

     The other fellow asked me out to dinner, and also indicated that we should probably talk first.  I responded agreeably, but (deliberately) did not provide my phone number. He subsequently responded that he was going to send up smoke signals! I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.  Once I regained my composure, I sent him my phone number.  I will keep you posted on that one.

     You know, one thing I have realized through all of this is that it’s no fun being a teenager. It’s even less fun living like a teenager when you’re approaching retirement age. I’m too old for this sheet…(I didn’t say it, although I was tempted).  I don’t want to be alone, but I also don’t relish the idea of starting over.  Also, I really don’t want to be distracted from pursuing my college education…Why is nothing ever simple?

    

"Prince Charming"

      I have been Emailing back and forth with the young man fairly regularly now. His accurate spelling, grammatical prowess, and ability to communicate intelligently, continue to impress me favorably.  One of my friends has dubbed him my “boy toy”.  (You know who you are! Thanks “D”!) In reality, that term does not apply, at least not yet ...

      I just realized today that he was born the same year that I ...graduated high school!  If we are a couple this coming spring, we can celebrate his 40^th birthday at my 40^th High School reunion! 

     Have I mentioned that his screen name is “Prince Charming”?  I am planning plan to change mine to... “Queen Mother”.