#ThrowbackThursday! Back to Tully’s pup
#ThrowbackThursday! Back to Tully’s puppy days & the only serious thing she chewed (usually just tissues & socks). She looks so innocent.š http://ow.ly/i/2763513-QBSVT4uw
#ThrowbackThursday! Back to Tully’s puppy days & the only serious thing she chewed (usually just tissues & socks). She looks so innocent.š http://ow.ly/i/2763513-QBSVT4uw
It’s #WhateverWednesday, and today’s “whatever” is the timeline of how my October novella, Meet Me in the Middle (part of the Falling For You anthology released yesterday) and Nora’s Guy Next Door (Harlequin Superromance) fit together. They both take place in Gallant Lake, NY, and are stand-alone stories. Chronologically in the stories, however, Meet Me in the Middle happens first – it starts in October, and runs into early November. During Thanksgiving Week, Nora meets Asher for the first time in the opening scene of Nora’s Guy Next Door (just a couple weeks after Ben and Sarah “meet in the middle” on a mountain road). There are a couple of characters who show up in each story: Sheriff Dan (although very briefly in Meet Me), and Cathy of Crazy Cathy’s Caffeine Cafe. Those readers with a sharp eye will get a clue in Meet Me of what’s going to happen with the cafe in Nora’s Guy Next Door (what is it Ben spies in Cathy’s window?). Will there be more stories from Gallant Lake – a fictional town in the Catskill Mountains? Absolutely! š http://ow.ly/i/2763513-gOT3s3fG
#MusicMonday – This is one of my favorite songs on my playlist – I put it on “Repeat” every time it comes up. I picture this as the goal of every romance hero and heroine – they want to be the one to wreck the other for anyone else. š https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQAdI2nqgMA
I should have known I was in trouble last Thursday when that pop-up zit appeared on the edge of my lip out of nowhere. Up at 5AM to catch a flight north for work, I stared in disbelief at the mirror. Just when I thought the menopausal acne was behind meā¦ But the road to menopause is full of surprises.
Acne. Mood swings. Bloating. Hot flashes. Mood swings. Exhaustion. Hot flashes. Ā
Yes, hot flashes can be surprising, as they come and go and change and morph throughout the years leading up to āofficialā menopause, defined as twelve consecutive months with no āmonthly friendā (Iām on a six month roll right now ā woo-hoo!!). Not only do hot flashes arrive unexpectedly, but they vary widely in intensity. Iāve had some big ones ā rolling heat waves that start in my chest and roll upwards until my scalp was tingling.Ā Iām talking about strip-off-your-clothes-in-mid-winter major hot flashes (indoors and at home, of course). Weāll be watching television quietly at home, and suddenly Iām flinging off my sweater or sweatshirt in a panic. Poor Hubby barely raises an eyebrow anymore when I start peeling off my clothes. Then the hot flashes will subside for a while, with just the occasional night sweat. Mild night sweats have become fairly routine, but theyāve never been debilitating for me.Ā
I know Iāve been relatively lucky. Iāve heard stories of horrendous night sweats, where women wake up so drenched they have to change the sheets. Women who had to keep spare outfits in their offices to change into because a hot flash would ruin their clothes. But not me. My hot flashes are just the nuisance type. Annoying, but manageable. Kinda like me. And it was all under control.
After Thursday, Iām not so sure anymoreā¦
It happened at the Charlotte, NC airport Thursday morning. I caught the 6AM puddle-jumper from home to Charlotte (a 50-minute flight) to connect with another flight north to my office, where I was due to attend an important meeting shortly after landing. I was wearing comfortable dress pants and a colorfully patterned, lightweight polyester knit top. I had a 3-hour layover, so there was no hurry as I strolled from one end of the airport to the other. I felt the hot flash begin, and I knew it was a strong one. I was not only hot, I was also very light-headed, felt faint, and my hands were shaking. I stopped, and I started to feel better. Wow. That was a good one. I figured Iād get something cold to drink and Iād be fine, as usual. I stopped by a little tourist shop along the way, mainly because it was extra cool in there. I strolled around a bit, not to buy anything, but just to enjoy the coolness for a minute.
An employee in the shop looked at me rather oddly, and instead of saying āgood morning!ā or āCan I help you?ā he said āIs everything okay this morning, maāam?ā That struck me as an odd thing to say, and then I thought my mega hot flash must have made my face red. I told him I was fine, and decided Iād better go get that cold drink and sit down somewhere.
As I walked out of the shop, I felt something on the side of my face. I put my fingers up to my left temple, and discovered water was running down my face near my scalp. I was covered in sweat. Iām not talking about a soft dewy glow here. I am talking about big drops of water. Dripping down the side of my face. Good lord, the guy must have thought I was crying, or justā¦wellā¦a crazy lady drenched in sweat at 8:00 AM. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my face. My scalp was sweating. My hair felt damp and limp. Whoa. This was no normal hot flash.
I grabbed a yogurt parfait and a cold drink, and got settled into a seat at a quiet gate. As I sat back against the chair, my back felt cold and clammy. I sat forward and my shirt was clinging to my back. Good grief ā I was soaked! I put my hand back there, and sure enough, my shirt was not just damp ā it was wet with sweat. The chair was wet. From me. Gross.
I analyzed my options, and wearing this shirt for the rest of the day was not one of them. I had to buy something. I was heading into a meeting less than an hour after landing, and I couldnāt go in wearing a bright t-shirt that said āNorth Carolina Rocks!ā A golf shirt was not dress code compliant. Maybe I could get away with that some other time, but not now ā not when Iām trying to convince my employer that I can be away from the home office and still maintain a high level of professionalism.
That left me with two stores: Lacoste (expensive) and Brooks Brothers (more expensive). Lacoste had a sale rack, but nothing on it would work ā too clingy, too sheer, too heavy (being warm triggers hot flashes). Why spend $50 on a sale shirt that I know Iāll never wear?
So I went back to Brooks Brothers and spent a ridiculous amount of money on a very nice cotton pinstripe shirt with Ā¾ sleeves. Beautiful fabric. Lovely tailoring. Very professional. Looks great. It is easily the most expensive shirt Iāve ever purchased. The sales tax brought the total over 3 figures. For a shirt.
All because of a monster hot flash at a really bad time and place.
And thatās the story of my first sweat-through-my-clothes hot flash. I donāt need to have another one. Truly, I donāt. Once is enough.
But just in case, Iāll start keeping an extra dress shirt in my office (and in my carry-on when Iām traveling). Ā
Because I simply canāt afford any more hot flashes like that one.
I canāt really say that I was sorry to see 2011 leave.Ā It was stressful year.Ā
We (finally) sold our house and completed the first phase of our move to North Carolina.Ā Packing boxes, unpacking boxes, settling into a very temporary rental house that is reminiscent of my first apartment thirty years ago, complete with cheap and/or borrowed furniture.Ā Itās been an adventure.Ā
I said good-bye to some dear friends in 2011 ā dear friends who were my age or younger ā a sobering part of growing older.Ā These friends all left this earth far too soon.Ā While I blogged about losing Donna and Billy, just this past week Iāve also said good-bye to both Betty and Steve.Ā Itās even more tragic that Steveās death was due to alcoholism.Ā Younger than I, he just couldnāt defeat the demons that cost him his career, his marriage, and ultimately his life. Ā Ā
And we added the happy stress of a new puppy, who has unexpectedly grown to the size of a small pony and threatens to become a dog of Marmaduke proportions and adventures.Ā Even now, as I type, Tully is prodding at my elbow and whining to be taken for a walk, which Iāll have to do if I expect to be able to finish this post, so excuse meā¦ā¦ā¦.okay, Iām back.Ā Welcome to my world since Tully entered my life.Ā Itās all about her.Ā All the time.Ā Really.
I avoid making detailed new yearās resolutions, because theyāre just a recipe for failure, depression and frustration.Ā Itās so easy to rattle off a list of goals on January 1st, and they seem so reasonable at the time.Ā Lose 20 pounds.Ā Exercise daily.Ā Stop eating sweets.Ā Organize my closet.Ā But by January 31st, like the vast majority of people, my resolutions have fallen to the wayside, and the mere thought of them makes me feel like a fool.Ā And who needs that?
So, for the past few years, Iāve gone to setting āthemesā ā one-word goals that I try to frame my year around.Ā Iāve used āde-clutterā (moderately successful), āfocusā (moderately successful), and last year it was āfinishā (not so successful).Ā But the joy of one word resolutions is that failure isnāt glaringly obvious, and they can still help me set and meet smaller goals through-out the year. Ā I donāt know if Iām any better at finishing things than I was a year ago.Ā But give me a break – itās tough to change a life-long habit of being a starter.Ā
Todayās the day I have to set my theme for 2012.Ā
Drum roll, please ā the word for this year (for me) is – āfearlessā.Ā
2012 will be a year full of changes.Ā Moving out of state.Ā A new career (and possibly a job hunt for a new employer ā yikes!).Ā Making new friends in a North Carolina.Ā Leaving dear friends behind in New York.Ā Settling finally into our new home.Ā Maybe even starting a business of my own.Ā Or writing more (for money).Ā Ā
This year ā I will be FEARLESS!Ā I will push myself to do things that scare me.Ā I will push myself out of my comfort zone.Ā I will do my best to not worry about failure.Ā And if I fail at something, Iāll just get back up and FEARLESSLY try something else.Ā One example is the new look for the blog – a change was long overdue.Ā Hope you like it!Ā I’ll admit that’s a baby step when it comes to change, but it’s only the first day of the year.Ā Give me time to build momentum.
I tend to not be terribly bold in general.Ā Some people might find that surprising, because I can fake it pretty well.Ā But I have that female-born-in-the-fifties angst about drawing attention to myself and being in charge of my own fate.Ā Too much Ozzie and Harriet when I was growing up, perhaps.
Will it be scary to act so boldly?Ā Yup.Ā
Setting a resolution of āfearlessā doesnāt mean āfear-freeā.Ā It means acting fearless, taking bold action.Ā And I can do that.Ā Iāll reinvent myself, or better yet, find my true self, in a new home in a new state.Ā Instead of struggling to finish that first novel, Iām going to start a new one, and the story is already kicking around in my head, getting ready to hit the page.Ā Iāll figure out how to make a living somehow, in a way that doesnāt stifle me.Ā
How?Ā No clue.Ā But Iāll figure it out as I go.
So tell me – what would you do in 2012 if you were truly fearless?Ā And whatās stopping you?
Iāve struggled to come up with a Christmas message this year.Ā In fact, Iāve struggled quite a bit with Christmas in general this year.Ā I have friends and co-workers who have told me they feel the same āfunkā about this Christmas.
Iām blaming the news.Ā Weāve had 18 months of relentlessly bad news, a particularly obnoxious election season, terrorist threats, and most recently, miserable weather basically around the globe.Ā Itās getting harder and harder to feel warm and fuzzy and Christmas-y.Ā Banks are going belly-up, homes are being repossessed, people canāt find jobs, gasoline is going through the roofā¦.bah-humbug.Ā
As a Christian, it shouldnāt be this difficult for me.Ā After all, āJesus is the Reason for the Seasonā, āPut Christ Back in Christmasā and all that.Ā But frankly, knowing that and feeling that are two very different things.Ā In fact, just the idea of putting Christ in Christmas has taken a bit of a militant edge this year, with people getting way overworked about the phrase āhappy holidaysā in stores.Ā Iāve never taken offense to it, or considered it some kind of anti-Christian rhetoric.Ā After all, āholidayā means āholy dayā.Ā But the talking heads took aim at it as if it were part of a vast left-wing conspiracy, and some folks are going a little nutty about it.Ā A very rational co-worker proudly exclaimed that they āwonāt buy anything from any store where employees say āhappy holidaysā instead of āmerry Christmasāā¦āĀ Thatās their choice, I suppose.Ā
But worse was the mall shopper who approached my friend while she was ringing bells for the Salvation Army donation kettle.Ā The shopper looked at the big red kettle and all the signs and said āDoes it say āMerry Christmasā anywhere here?āĀ Surprised, she responded that she didnāt think so, and the shopper turned away and said āThen youāre not getting my money!āĀ
Seriously?Ā Not giving to the Salvation Army, a religious charity, because the signage doesnāt say āMerry Christmasā?Ā It doesnāt say āHappy Holidaysā, either! Ā It just says āSalvation Armyā.Ā How ridiculous can you get?Ā Some Christian spirit there, huh?Ā
Juggling holiday travel, family pressures, work pressures, money pressures, and the struggle to get the perfect gifts ā itās a lot to process.Ā Why are we doing this?Ā Ā How did the celebration of the birth of the Christ-child evolve into this?Ā Have we come full circle?Ā Christians adopted and transformed pagan holidays through the centuries, and now our decidedly Christian holiday seems to be becoming more pagan in many ways.Ā We are worshipping the same golden calf of materialism, pride and greed that Moses destroyed.Ā
Time to step back.Ā Time to remember that I believe in a tiny child born 2000 years ago, and in the love He brought to the world.Ā And I do believe.Ā I do choose to believe in the birth of Christ.Ā Ā Ā Ā
That belief is pretty out of character for me.Ā Iām generally very skeptical and yes, cynical in many ways.Ā If something sounds too good to be true, then I know it probably is.Ā Iāve been betrayed by people Iāve trusted.Ā Iāve seen people Iāve known for years end up inexplicably on the wrong side of the law.Ā Iāve seen loved ones die far too young.Ā As you work your way through decades of life on this earth, you learn to shield your heart and use your head.Ā And yetā¦I believe that a child was born in a stable, laid in a manger, and was worshipped there by shepherds, angels and kings.Ā I believe that He grew to become a teacher, to bring God to earth, to flesh, and to death.Ā Itās the ultimate ātoo good to be trueā situation, and yet, I believe without question.Ā
Christmas isĀ about belief in the incredible, the unbelievable.Ā For children, itās the wonder of flying reindeer and a jolly old elf dressed in red.Ā For adults, itās the miracle of God-on-earth in the form of a baby.Ā Of course, itās more than a baby.Ā Itās what that baby represents ā the rest of the story that transformed the world.Ā We know the end of the story, weāve read the final chapter, and yet we canāt wait to read it all over again every Christmas.Ā We need to look at that pretty nativity on our mantle and remember that itās not just a decoration ā itās the start of a wonderful story.Ā Itās the birth of Love.Ā
Because I believe in the story of Jesus, I am able to believe in the inherent goodness of human beings, despite evidence to the contrary.Ā I may get discouraged, but I am not broken by the constant stream of negative news.Ā I have faith in my fellow man.Ā I have faith in this āgrand experimentā that is the United States.Ā I have faith in my husband and in his love for me.Ā I have faith that the bad times will pass.Ā
Because I am able to wonder and worship, I am able to feel awe at the tiny, perfect fingers of a newborn baby.Ā At the incredible beauty of a 90 year old woman singing in church.Ā At the musical laughter of children.Ā At the power of tears, and the power of a touch.
Do I forget to believe and wonder?Ā Sometimes.Ā I sometimes have to force myself to sit still in silence and just ponder it all.Ā I have to dust off the Bible and refresh my spirit with the Story.Ā It is a story that makes me weep in awe and joy when Iām able to silence the screaming rush of the world.
Christmas is not about presents and parties and decorations and outdoing the neighbors and baking cookies and getting the latest video game.Ā Those things can be fun in moderation, but theyāre not Christmas.Ā Christmas is a baby laid in a straw-filled manger, lulled to sleep by angels.Ā Nothing more.Ā Nothing less.Ā
And thatās all we really need to know, to believe, to trust.Ā The rest will take care of itself, so just let it go.
My wish for you is that you have a very Merry Christmas, and that you are able to feel wonder and magic and joy in your heart.
I have come to the conclusion that in business, talking sports can be a really good idea for women.Ā Before I go any further, let me throw out a few disclaimers here.Ā Rest assured that I am NOT a proponent for women āacting like a manā to get ahead in business.Ā I think women bring their own special gifts to the workplace, and that we can succeed just fine by acting like ourselves.Ā Donāt allow anyone to patronize you or dismiss you in any way. Ā And yes, I understand that there are plenty of men who could care less about sports, and thatās just fine, too.Ā Ā Ā
But business is all about relationships, and the best way to build a relationship is to find areas you have in common with the other person.Ā When youāre a woman in the business world, sports is usually a great ice-breaker.Ā I discovered this by accident years ago.Ā I always was a sports fan to a certain degree.Ā I am particularly enamored with NASCAR racing.Ā People are always surprised by that ā I refer to myself as a ācloset redneckā.Ā Iām watching the race in Pocono as I type this.Ā Seriously.
Anyhowā¦I was sitting in the break room at the large call center where I was a manager about ten years ago, having lunch with some of the male managers there.Ā It was a Monday, and one of the guys mentioned the weekendās auto race.Ā He said something disparaging about āmyā driverās involvement in an accident, and I jumped in with a detailed rebuttal explaining why it was really some other guyās fault.Ā Along with the surprised looks of āhey, she knows NASCAR!ā, I saw something else in the eyes of these guys who were always polite but never exactly friends.Ā They were looking at me like I suddenly existed.Ā If youāre a working woman, you know what I mean. Ā When I saw them looking at me with that strange expression (āWho is this woman?ā āWhy didnāt we know she was cool before?ā), a light bulb went off.Ā
But not all guys love NASCAR, so I decided to experiment.Ā Iād sit with the guys and jump into their conversations about baseball, football, basketball, whatever was the sports du jour.Ā And hereās what I learned then, and since then.
1.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Donāt fake it.Ā There may be times when you can fake it with men (get your mind out of the bedroom ā Iām talking about the times we refer to our brand new shoes as āwhat, these old things?ā).Ā Sports isnāt one of those times when you can fake it.Ā Donāt say you saw the fantastic play theyāre talking about unless you really saw it (even if it was just in highlights).Ā Itās okay to say āYeah, I heard about that catch ā they said it was awesome!ā.Ā Donāt gush about what a great game it was just because you saw the score and the home team won.Ā Itās embarrassing to find out that the win came at the cost of the best player being injured, or that they blew a 10-point lead and barely hung on for the win.Ā Yes, itās a win, but itās whatās referred to as āan ugly winā.Ā You donāt brag about ugly wins.Ā You breathe sighs of relief that the team pulled it off.Ā Learn the lingo, ladies.
2.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Pick a team to cheer for.Ā Youāll look like an idiot if you rave about how much you love baseball, and then, when one of the guys asks you which team you follow, you gush āoh, I love them all!āĀ Only dweebs say that.Ā Youād be much better off saying you donāt follow the sport.Ā Itās always a safe bet to back the hometown team.Ā But donāt say you follow them if youāre not ready to do at least a little homework (learn a few names, watch the local scores, etc.).Ā If you really want to stand out and be bold, then follow a different team than everyone else.Ā But if youāre going to do that, be ready to take the heat and the ātrash talkā (thatās sports lingo for someone belittling you and everything you stand for to throw you off your game).Ā And also be ready to step it up ā youād better really know your stuff if youāre going to be a Red Sox fan in Yankee country.Ā Trust me, I know this first-hand.Ā
3.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Watch ESPN. Really.Ā You donāt have watch it 24/7.Ā You donāt have to watch entire games.Ā But watch āSportsCenterā.Ā The show runs basically all the time.Ā Not exactly, but it seems that way ā theyāve run more than 30,000 episodes.Ā Itās on and off throughout the day (and night).Ā Itās the āCliffNotesā version of the sports world, and you can learn a lot in just one 10 minute segment.Ā If you want to know enough sports to sound authentic, just watch 10 ā 20 minutes of āSportsCenterā every morning.Ā The show quickly runs through multiple sports headlines, and shows the best and worst plays of the day/week/whatever in their āTop Tenā and āNot Top Tenā clips.Ā A nice plus is that itās also pretty entertaining, with some good humor.Ā Watching it wonāt kill any brain cells, I promise.
4.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Be prepared to surprise yourself.Ā As Iāve mentioned, I never considered myself a true sports fan ā other than the stock car thing.Ā Okay – Iāve always loved the beautiful corny poetry of American baseball in general (confession: āField of Dreamsā is my favorite movie ever), but I really didnāt follow specific teams.Ā When I met my Boston-raised husband, I was instantly brought into the world of Red Sox baseball, Patriots football, and Celtics basketball (I just canāt get into hockeyā¦).Ā So those became āmy teamsā when I wanted to talk sports.Ā I donāt live in Boston.Ā I live in New York.Ā So I have taken a fair amount of heat.Ā I had to keep up with the teams to hold my own.Ā And a funny thing happened. Ā I started to really enjoy it!Ā Ā Okay, it helps that all three teams have won at least one championship in the past few years (the best way to shut up the trash talk is to win), but even in the tough years, Iām still having fun.
I have learned that guys arenāt aliens when they start talking sports.Ā Sports can be cool.Ā Donāt just walk away when the sports talk starts, or when ESPN pops up on the television screen.Ā And, if you want to learn how to open conversations at work, or in any public setting where you want to build relationships (like the corner barā¦), learn at least a little bit about sports.Ā Keep yourself up to date by scanning the headlines and watching a little āSportsCenterā .Ā Youāll be surprised what some sports knowledge can do for you, and you may even find yourself liking it!
My family is a microcosm of the span of the famed āBaby Boomerā generation.Ā Ā Having met at a USO in Chicago during World War II, my parents married after the war and began their family.Ā My brother was born in 1948, in the early years of the post-war Baby Boom.Ā For another 17 years, there were enough babies born every year (lots and lots) to count as the Baby Boomers, even though āthe warā was long past.Ā I was born in 1958, near the end of the boom, which officially closed in 1964.Ā
Every time those first Baby Boomers hit a milestone, it makes news.Ā āBoomers Turn 40!āĀ āBoomers Turn 50!āĀ Boomers Turn 60!āĀ āBoomers Retire!āĀ
Well, when the afore-mentioned Boomers were turning 40 and facing their burgeoning mid-life crises, I was hitting 30 feeling footloose and fancy-free.Ā When they reached 50 and changed the cosmetics market forever in a panic to stay young, I was just heading into my 40ās with a new husband and a soon-to-be blossoming career.Ā And, while older Boomers are now retiring in droves, Iām still stuck in job-land for another 10 years or so.Ā Ā
Iām a ābabyā Baby Boomer.Ā I was shaped by the 1960ās, but via the television screen, not a college campus.Ā One of my earliest memories is watching the JFK funeral on a small black & white TV while my mom cried.Ā I was five.Ā In 1968, my brother (the Old Boomer) paid my best friend and I fifty cents each to tear all the Bobby Kennedy campaign banners from his car the day after Bobby was killed.Ā At 20 and involved in his first presidential campaign, he was too heartbroken to do it himself.Ā
My view of those years was skewed by looking through the prism of how they affected him.Ā I paid attention to the war in Vietnam because my big brother was eligible for the draft.Ā I watched violent college protests on TV because he was headed off to college on the other side of the country (Momās advice ā ādo whatever you want out there, but donāt ever let me see your face on the national news!ā).Ā Ā I was 12 when four students were killed by the National Guard at Kent State.Ā I couldnāt understand it, and I worried that my brother would be shot on his college campus.Ā Ā
Our childhoods were so very different.Ā He grew up with Andy and Opie.Ā I grew up with Laugh-In.Ā He was an Eagle Scout with a stay-at-home mom in a one car family.Ā They had a fishing boat and went tent camping in the Adirondacks for vacation.Ā He played Little League on a small local diamond (thatās still there).Ā I had a working mom in a family that boasted two cars, three snowmobiles, two boats, and a camper.Ā We went to New York City for vacation and stayed at the McAlpin (not quite the Waldorf, but almost right next door).Ā I showed horses for fun.Ā Yeah – being ten in 1968 was a whole lot different than being ten in 1958.
1958 was full of hope.Ā Ten-year-olds didnāt have a care in the world then.Ā 1958 was Sputnik, Elvis, Alaska, de Gaulle and Eisenhower.Ā Yes, Castro and Khrushchev made a little noise, but that stuff rarely made it into the family living room.Ā Good grief, the musical hero of the year was Van Cliburn.Ā Ā
1968 was a whole lot more complicated, and the news of the day was in our living room in living color.Ā It was LBJ, Vietnam, Nixon and hijackings.Ā Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were both gunned down.Ā Campuses burned, and Led Zeppelin rocked the radio while Hair rocked Broadway.Ā In ten short years, the world had turned upside down.Ā
My mom often says she feels like she raised two āonly childrenā.Ā I thought she meant it was just because we were ten years apart ā he was an only child for ten years, then I came along, then he was off to college with I was only eight.Ā But I wonder now if her statement also covers the fact that she raised two children in two such completely different eras.Ā
Some studies show that young Boomers like me donāt like being called āBaby Boomersā.Ā Thatās probably a knee-jerk reaction to wanting to clarify that weāre not as old as those other guys.Ā But I donāt mind it.Ā Being a Boomer is cool.Ā Weāre part of the generation that changed the world.Ā We may not be the āgreatest generationā like our parents, but we were the 500 lb. gorilla that had to be dealt with.Ā We changed everything ā politics, entertainment, fashion, civil rights.Ā We rocked the workplace, and powered the economy as we set aside our hippy beads (well, the old Boomers had more of those than usā¦), and we went into the workforce ā men and women.Ā As weāve aged (weāll all be over 50 within 4 years), we continue to throw our collective weight around, for good and for not-so-good.Ā Weāre spending Social Security dollars faster than our children can replenish them.Ā Senior living centers are springing up everywhere.Ā Powered wheelchairs now come in bright colors and stylish shapes.Ā Weāll need more doctors and nurses as we all begin to fall apart.Ā Weāve got another good 40 or maybe even 50 years of making our mark on society.Ā Sorry, kids!
Why would I want to be called the āXā āYā or āZā generation?Ā What does that even mean, anyway?Ā Itās lame.
Nope, call me a Baby Boomer, and Iāll take the name with pride.Ā Just donāt mix me up with those really old Boomers like my brother.Ā Iāll stick with being a Baby Baby Boomer, thank you very much!
The news has recently been full of stories about women being abused and treated like property, culminating in the tragic death of Yeardley Love, a beautiful and talented 22 year old college student in Virginia.Ā As someone whoās been in an abusive relationship (many years ago), these stories cause me a tremendous amount of anger and frustration.Ā As much as I intend this to be a light-hearted blog, I feel forced to get serious for a moment.
Thereās no way to understand what was in the heads of Ben Roethlisbergerās body guards as they blithely allowed a drunk 20-year-old girl to be led behind closed doors by Roethlisberger.Ā Maybe they thought he was trying to help her get a career in sports broadcasting?Ā And her girlfriends?Ā As worried as they were, and for all their reported efforts to check on her, apparently no one had a cell phone that could have been used to call police.Ā And the father and brother of another girl who was reportedly abused by Roethlisberger (if true) must be so proud that they convinced her not to file a complaint.Ā Itās nice to know the men in our lives have our backs, right?Ā
Yeardley Loveās relationship with the fellow college athlete who killed her was filled with warning signs.Ā Some of them were giant neon blinking ones ā yet it seems that no one saw this coming.Ā The young couple fought and argued ā sometimes violently.Ā She described him as āaggressiveā.Ā He attacked another young man who he suspected of kissing Yeardley.Ā Even his buddies describe him as an angry, violent drunk.Ā The night she was killed, he was reportedly smashing bottles before he stalked off to āget her backā, according to some reports.Ā How did no one see this coming?!?
But, of course, Iām looking at this from my vantage point of experience and years. Ā My years have taught me that not only can bad things happen to good people, but that āgoodā people are capable of doing really terrible things.Ā That a smiling face and smooth manner in public do not guaranty that kind of behavior behind closed doors.Ā Once we hit 50, weāve seen plenty of people we thought were āgoodā surprise us with their utter lack of goodness (or at the very least, lack of good common sense).Ā
Forgive us Baby Boomers for our skepticism, but itās founded in experience.Ā After all, we grew up watching a president being impeached and run out of office for a third-rate burglary gone bad.Ā Ā The clean-cut, charming and so-talented Pete Rose was accused of not just gambling, but gambling on his own baseball games.Ā A blonde, blue-eyed skating champion, Tanya Harding, was involved in a crazy attack on one of her competitors.Ā Ā Another president carried on sexual affairs with women in the White House.Ā Squeaky-clean cyclists in the Tour de France were forever tainted by accusations of doping.Ā Corporate giant Enron bilked retirees out of every penny they had.Ā Ā More recently, Bernie Madoff did his own brand of damage, largely to charities and pension funds.Ā Catholic priests are making not-nice headlines, along with more evangelist preachers than I can list.Ā Even sportsā golden boy, Tiger Woods, recently showed himself to be not just a cheater, but an absolute cad.
Yes, those of us whoāve reached a certain age know how badly things can go wrong.Ā Little surprises us, really.Ā But the people partying with Ben Roethlisberger, and the college friends of Yeardley Love apparently donāt know what we know.Ā They donāt realize that when people, like Loveās accused killer George Huguely, give us those little momentary glimpses of their not-so-nice sides, they are offering us the opportunity to prevent a tragedy.
PLEASE ā if you see a friend or relative in a relationship where one partner (usually the male, but not always) is a total control freak, is completely possessive, is wildly jealous, is quick to anger ā take action.Ā These behaviors arenāt cute, or temporary, or mistakes.Ā They are warning flags.Ā Does every jealous person turn into a killer?Ā Of course not.Ā But combine jealousy with possessiveness, absolute control, paranoia, rage, and alcohol or drugs ā well, chances are, something bad is going to happen.Ā Not always murder.Ā But some form of physical or mental violence is likely.Ā The victim, at the very least, will be made to feel stupid, weak, trapped, and responsible for every bad thing that happens (āif only you hadnāt looked at himā; āyou made me do itā; āyou asked for itā).Ā
Help your friend/relative get out of that relationship as quickly and safely as possible.Ā If there is any threat of violence, get them somewhere safe (keep yourself safe as well), make sure they are never alone, and donāt let them convince you that āhe wonāt really do anythingā or that everyone is over-reacting.Ā If you see a very drunk young friend allow herself to be led away by anyone, even a famous personality ā call the cops.Ā If you see a drunk young man smashing bottles in a rage, and then saying heās going off to get his ex-girlfriend back ā donāt laugh and hope for the best.Ā Call the cops.Ā Or, at the very least, go with him.Ā Donāt shrug and tell your friends heās a āgood guyā or that heāll āsnap out of it.āĀ
If you yourself are in a relationship with someone like this ā GET OUT.Ā I know heās supremely and magically charming, funny and loving when things are good.Ā I know you think you can āfixā him.Ā I know heās convinced you that his temper tantrums are your fault.Ā That heās sorry.Ā That heāll never do it again.Ā If you are with a man who has harmed you in any way in a rage – run.Ā Seriously ā get out.Ā It will not change.Ā He will always be sorry, but he will continue to hurt you.Ā If you really, truly think he can change (as a Christian, I have to say that nothingās completely impossible), then let him do it while you are at a safe distance. Ā Ā And donāt take him back until you know heās gone through some serious counseling for his issues.Ā
We can stop young girls from making terrible mistakes in an effort to please.Ā We can stop young men from causing harm because of their own insecurities. Ā Ā But we have to take action and get involved.Ā If your only action is to forward this, or to print it and leave it anonymously for someone who might need to see it, then thatās at least a step in the right direction.