What's A Mill?

Today while browsing through the realtor section of the newspaper, I saw the vast majority of homes and condos were selling for well over a million dollars. Without getting into the matter of overpricing and sheer greed, it seems to me that things are getting out of hand entirely. What is the market? Who is shopping for a home with a suitcase full of money just to buy a place in which the cost of materials is just not worth that kind of coin? Those who sell these places, not new, must be looking, for the most part, as everyone else, for something affordable and perhaps if their dreams of selling "the farm" work out, they will get a place just as good or better than what they are walking away from so they can put money in the bank. This seldom happens. So they buy a new place and fork out a good deal of their new-found wealth. All the inherent expenses of re-location kick in. Remodelling, furnishings, taxes, moving, and changes, all flood in the door and the cash pours out. Home and condo home owners I happen to know of, often learn that what the ads said are not what the ads did. Even with insurance plans taken into consideration. Things such as plumbing that somehow passed inspection, has troubles. Or finishings. Or structural matters. Some of the great sounding amenities may not be complete or show up at all, and worse, the new council has signed on the dotted line thinking they, and the other new folks, now own the place all to themselves. The learning begins. The tiny grey print on the bottom of the lovely illustrated brochure that enticed everybody to buy, meant what it said. Changes could (and did) occur and yes, descriptions might not be as illustrated. But, it's too late. The deadline has passed and the developer is on to new and better things. Your cash helped him/her developer to head out to greener pastures, thank you very much.  And since the ink is dry, the proud new owners of the "finished" complex are, for the most part, on the hook. Developers have lots of experience, big bucks and big lawyers. The lesson? Beware and be careful about what you buy. A picture can be worth lots more than a thousand words. If in your sparkling new digs, there is a pipeless drain that goes nowhere but into the floor or wall, who pays for it? The condo owners own it now, and unless legal battles are fought and won, the owners pay the price to straighten out the mess. All of the owners, since they own the entire thing together. Be prepared for an increase in your fees. Read the condo act carefully. Most of the time, the developer is cooperative. He/she doesn't want a bad reputation. They plan to make a lot more millions and grab some respect for their name at the same time. They have reputations to protect. Prospective condo owners,  watch diligently and ask questions about the developer and the construction company. It could pay off.

Open And Shut

Doors used to be made of good, solid stuff called wood. Now, while some are metal, most are a plasticy material that looks like wood. They are made to tell anyone passing by what good taste you have in putting up a door that matches the ambience of what lies inside. It's called "sidewalk appeal" or something similar. Anything else put around the door, has to follow suit. Doors "speak" apparently. "Hey look everyone. Come in and find traditional or contemporary or antique things inside just like this." It's a kind of invitation or shop window ploy to draw customers/guests into the depths of the place. The door knobs were once lovely things, usually rounded, and had character. Some were gold or silver or burnished. Others were made of glass, crystal and had designs. Now, doorknobs are not knobs any more and come with apologies to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry. They are metal things that look like hospital equipment or coat hooks from Venus. You have them like that, they tell me,  because someone may come along who can't turn a door knob but in an emergency like a fire, can bash it downwards to get out easily. And it's true. We have a big dog, where I live, who lets himself out his space age door so that he can run up and down the hallways barking joyfully at the accomplishment. His owner found out one day when her dog greeted her in the lobby, as well as the flock of pursuing neighbours following close behind. And it isn't just outer doors that have changed. Cupboard doors are trying to get into the act, too. I know someone who just bought a new suite similar to mine in which the cupboard doors open like flour bins. They do not swing left or right. They lift. Or fall. Luckily, in his case, his are made to stay open long enough to remove things or put them in. Mine don't. The cupboard doors stay open only if you hold them up. It's clear to me that the individual who designed these freaky things, must have been a soccer player with a good strong forehead or a guy with three hands. When I put my steel coffee maker away the other day, I had to hold the door thing open with my head so that I could use the other two hands to lift it inside. It does havoc to hairdos, not to mention foreheads. Who invents these modern space-saving wonders and obviously doesn't use them? Ah progress!

Busyness Business

The other day while waiting for an auto oil change, dropped in for a coffee to a well-known establishment where one could have a nice Italian cuppa. With coffee and book in hand,  I found a comfy chair, sharing a coffee table that had a young woman at it, laden down with the usual stuffed back pack. Latte by my side, I turned to my page and began to read. My table mate had her cell phone out and started in. Trying desperately not to eavesdrop, but being unsuccessful, my novel protagonist was forced to share its trials with my nearby fellow. She related her whole medical history as she pleaded with the doctor's office to tell her how her thyroid was doing after the extensive testing. I also became quite enamored by the gland, since it and I had become friends of an intimate sort.  Just across from me, another customer, his notebook and phone out, was peddling his services as house inspector. I learned all about his specialty and how well trained he was during the intense six-months schooling it took to assist buyers such as that of his respondent. He spoke of the inherent dangers of everything from flooring and walls to insects and rodents during the proposed sale. On the spot, I vowed to do some cursory investigation of my own new condo. As he remarked repeatedly,"you never know". And I didn't, but I vowed to take a look. The person I sat next to, called her friend to meet her as support in the quest over her thyroid gland issue. Shortly, the friend breezed in, backpack adangle with water bottles and spare running shoes, and I sighed back into the pages of my book once again. A young man in his three piece suit, likely on a break, came and sat down in the chair plopping his laptop on our table. His fingers flew over the keys rapidly, his coffee mug largely ignored. The tiny tappings denoted great skill. My book character, formed of letters also, would have adored him. He was much too young for me, and furthermore, I didn't know his cell number. That, apparently, is how one communicates now. I looked around and saw that no one in the place spoke to one another even if they sat together; all were occupied with their devices, digits racing. I felt archaic having my smart phone sulking in my handbag pocket, but I couldn't think of a soul who would understand an inane call or text at this time of day. My friends are occupied with actually doing things like golf, babysitting grandchildren or making bazaar crafts to peddle at the next calendar holiday.

Being No One

Most of us are no one. We will never be famous or make an important contribution to the world. We live and will die having done nothing particularly wonderful. Realizing that, after watching a film about the late Susan Sontag, for example, or the lives of other intensely committed, productive people, is humbling, and even could be rather depressing. But then, on thinking about the matter of having been born and living our lives and what matters to bringing it all around to making sense, is the job of the masses. It's knowing there are those just like me who will not make any special impression at all, but who will simply have an existence and then depart to be forgotten eventually. So what's it all about? Why were we born? Why do we live? Those who accomplish great things, do it for us: those who didn't or couldn't.  Here we are, the average folk, using all of the wonders of discovery: the inventions, the creations, the scientific inroads to medical and all other practical solutions and innovations manufactured just to keep us going. We look around at the engineering marvels: roads, bridges, buildings, vehicles, and we use them without giving a second thought to the human beings who laboured to make them for our use. If it were not for us, they would have had no motivation, no reason We are the world, we the average people. Our importance is in using it all and respecting the convenience, the aid, the benefits of such things. It was done for us, and sure, maybe vast amounts of money were made by the few, in the development along the way, but for us, there is a very small cost in using and existing and taking advantage of that  progress. We are the recipients and benefactors. That's our reason for being here. Someone has to be the audience, the users. Of course, there is a minority of  the negative human kind who put out bad energy to do bad things, but they are merely bumps in the road of  life. They don't matter. They are warped people who can't and don't win. They can't because the world's people are in nature, focussed on positive progress. And though we are sometimes intrigued by evil, we don't tarry there. The regular people of the earth want to go on and on.  We deal with the criminals and greedy and all of that sort but step over them and their wrong, to head into the future with hope for all that is good and beautiful and true. That's our purpose and goal just to be as we are, us.

Resolution Desolation

Evidently, the most popular New Year's resolution is to lose weight. Come on ! What could be more stupid. I can see "eating better" or "watching my foods" but losing weight on some fad diet for the sake of wearing a size whatever is brainless. Sorry fashionistas, but it's true, and you know it. First, I'd ask why are you doing this to yourself? You know perfectly well that most of you except those sadly ill with anorexia, will fail and then your body will say "hey I'm not going to do that again, therefore, I'm going to put on more pounds this time, just to make sure". I am not saying you should allow yourself to be obese, I'm merely suggesting that eating healthy foods may not make you the ninety pound wonder, but it will keep that healthy glow everyone sees and likes. If you are dieting to look like someone else you admire, it's your body you have to consider not that one on the glossy magazine page. Perhaps you feel that if you don't run around with a 20 inch waist and 30 inch hips, you'll lose your lover. Ask yourself is that all your lover wants? A skinny body? Time to run to the nearest exit in that case. You matter. You. Not a two dimensional image on the screen or off. Ah yes, there are dear folks out there who happen to be larger than others. If that's the body you've been handed, go for it. Take it along with you but treat it right. You know what's good for you and what's not and fad dieting or bingeing is not. Fad diets are like all the fads. Add an "e" and what do you get? Right! Fade. Fad diets fade and they fade because they don't work. I've been around the block a bit and I know women who did the drop into "our studio" thing with the counselling and shots, got on the groupie soup diets and the protein only diets but none, not one of those people kept the pounds off. Not one. For one thing, most of the dieters I know are not obese. They simply get a bug in their bonnets that they are "fat" which means to them that they need to become a size one instead of the one they are. Obese people need other kinds of help that are not diets but complex changes about complex issues. The tiny, skinny women I know, don't like their shapes either. They want to gain weight here or there and believe me, that is harder than losing it. Women with new babies worry constantly about the baby's weight not being enough. They brag when the infant gains. Then they worry about their little children gaining too much weight. There must be a middle road. What we put into our bodies shows. We all know what to do about it. No one needs to tell us what to eat. Off to the new year making healthy good sense and choosing better foods!

Oof!

Oof! That's how it must feel to get a solid blow in the middle of one's middle. Sometimes you say something not intended to inflame someone else, and their reaction is sudden and hard just like an "oof". There isn't a soul who can say this hasn't happened to him or her self. You can't always go around with a filter or a gag on your mouth.  Worse still is when you tell someone how badly you feel about it, and they respond that you shouldn't have said what you did: oof and ouch! Now you have two counts against you. But it's one of life's lessons. First, try to forgive yourself for the first offense in saying something with a double meaning, and second, forget about looking around for sympathetic support. You won't get it. You're on your own. When it happened to me the other day, not only did I lose one friend, but later, two. Not that they were close friends. My close friends are not that vulnerable, thank goodness. One of the big disadvantages of modern communications systems is that they are immediate and instantly accessible and furthermore, they don't, so far, offer the advantage of tone. When you speak, you put variations in tone that affect the meaning of your chat. They are not possible to put into the symbols that are written words. The sender makes an assumption that his/her message will convey as it is intended. And often, that may not happen. Written language can be toned to have many meanings. This is what can get us into trouble. They send, we receive. They mean it one way and we receive it thinking it means, another.  Simple as that. And yet very complicated. So how do we avoid the horrible accident of someone de-friending another because of a message miss-taken? Best way, is to ask what is meant. Easy? Not always because at times, it means dropping one's pride simply to ask. You know what I mean if ever you've had to do it. "Do you mean..."  "Are you saying..." " Am I to understand that you..." To ask these is  self-deprecating in a way. The solution?Better say nothing at all and wait until the sender thinks "Why are they not answering?" and reviews what was texted and then does the asking. Might work. Best is to speak to each other. Texting is limiting - and can be "dangerous".

Is That All?

There's an old song from the time when songs actually said something, called "Is That All There Is?" The other day while having dinner in a restaurant with a fascinating ambience, a collection of arts and decor that intrigued, I saw, at a table nearby, a group of four people in their twenties, who entered dourly, sat down with hoodies, tattoos and hats in place, ordered their food and drink but said not a word to each other. In their hands, were the usual devices. Their eyes were constantly on them with thumbs flying. Our table conversation got around to young adults and their overwhelming desire to "have it all". The table next door folk, appeared to be one of the set who had succeeded in having it "all". Their clothes were high style, their meals, obviously from the upper price page of the menu and drinks followed suit. None of these attractive, healthy, rich-looking types conversed or smiled with, or at, each other. Their full attention was on their phones. And while we discussed what young people wanted these days, that table was, in fact, giving us the answer. To some, they may appeared to have it all. Later, I thought about "having it all". To many, it means having a personal style that fits the latest trends,  having a place to live in that looks like something out of a magazine and is located in the "best" parts of town. It means going to all of the hot clubs to imbibe in trendy substances, legal or otherwise, and partying the night away. It means driving the sports car of the moment, and I don't mean the bargain model. It means having endless amounts money, either one's own or that of  indulgent parents. It means something that most young adults simply can't have. The facts are harsh. The average young person may dream all-of-the-above, and complain that the reason they don't have it "all", is because only the rich can afford it and it-was-easy-in-your-day-Dad. They are perfectly correct. Getting rich is how it works. Getting a good education, not necessarily just academic, is how it works. And that takes a lot of work - and money. To get an education in this country is out of reach without a huge loan. To have all the rest of it, you need opportunity and luck. It doesn't just happen. Those are the facts, and Hollywood, and other media hype that puts out visions of "having it all" being easily reachable, are mere fairy tales. Having it all, may not entirely be possible, but aiming for it "all" is a reality. It takes determination and long, hard work. It always did. Even in Mom and Dad's day.

Curiouser and Curiouser

That's how Alice described they way things became for her in the well known tale, and that's what brought us to where we are today. Curiosity. The first men were curious. They learned about and used what was around them including the turnings of the earth that cause day and night, weather and seasons. They were curious about all of nature and ever since, have turned their curiosities into  experimentation and invention. Man wondered enough about life and his surroundings, to devise better ways of living. Along with adding positive conveniences and friendlier living conditions, unfortunately, he also found ways and means that were destructive. It seems there is always good and along with it, bad. But if there were not curiosity, we wouldn't make the good inventions we have. In my lifetime, we went from radio to computers. Now technology is not a choice, it's a necessity. Curiosity begins almost at the moment of birth. Little brows frown and tiny fingers reach and mouths want to taste. All the senses come to bear. At that age, curiosity can become trouble, therefore, vigilance is key. Parents protect the young from allowing the great force that is curiosity, to get out of hand. In the older child, curiosity leads to choices and once again adult guidance is called for. When the young adult arrives at the independent stage, curiosity can be lethal or educational or inspirational. It pulls us along at any age. Great scientific advancements were born of curiosity. How much better, how much faster, how much more useful can something be? How much more can we go on learning and changing?  These are the questions that drive development. At the same time, they can cause havoc and stress. Some people don't like change. They are happy the way things are and they fight or deny it. They fear it. The fear is that they are full of it and want to step off the bandwagon of change. They've found their level of coping. "Enough", they say. It's usually, but not always, those who are aging who are sated with change. The young desire to speed on into the next phase and they have the energy and will to get there.  I cheer them on, but hope there is an understanding of the effects. At times I am curious about how much more change can happen on this rapidly crowding planet.

The Unsung

The unsung heroes are the women and men who receive no accolades or rewards or media attention but who hope to effect change. They are the people who appear at rallies and protests, the peaceful folk that make up the numbers that are seen and reported. Size is noted. I was once told by a politician who said, all letters to ministers are placed in files and they do count. The thicker the file, the more attention it gets. That is logical since each letter represents a voter.  I don't speak of the sort of professional protester who is among the well-trained individual that educate others in the how-tos and what not-tos. No. These are the ordinary persons who read in the press or watch on line about certain matters that will directly affect not only them, but also everyone around them: their families and community, in fact. I live amongst a number of these admirable citizens who take the time and trouble to appear at town halls and forums and become perhaps not one of the identifiable speakers who are brave enough to go to the mike, but are those who make up the numbers in the audience. They know they are what counts. The larger the representation, the greater the attention. Although I appreciate the speakers,  I take my hat off to the unsung heroes who give up their quiet evenings at home, to show their support for what they believe in. I was once one of them but age doesn't allow all of us elders to feel comfortable carrying signs or risking being pushed over and trampled by an emotional crowd. But that doesn't mean we are inactive.  There is something we can do. We can write letters, make the issues known to those around us and socially offer opinions to support what we believe in. Elderly doesn't mean helpless. While our lights may dim as we all succumb to time eventually, we have to remember that the starry sky above, has enough small lights to make it bright on a clear night. After researching the truths, we  elders, may make our needs and those of our fellow beings known by first finding out the truths and then deciding to do some shining.