Matters of Politics

The word politics means people setting policies based on what will work to benefit the whole of the population.  The policies are meant to benefit us and organize our lives, to make them orderly and ensure  peace and safety for all. We choose among our people, certain ones we think will do this job and if there are many of them, we choose whom we think is best by having elections.  We listen to what each of the people who want to be our alphas, say what they will do for us if they are chosen. We are given an opportunity to make that choice in one vote per person. It's our only opportunity to express our needs and wants and responsibilities as a society. Why anyone would be stupid enough to deny themselves this opportunity to make a choice that will affect their lives and those of the ones they care about, is beyond understanding. It's all we have as a collective people and it's so precious a thing. Why someone would say, "I did not vote as a protest" or "I didn't know who to vote for" or "none of the people up for election were good enough" is ridiculous. All you have is this one opportunity. When matters arise out of what we see happening in some other countries after an election, we ask  "who is to blame?" It isn't likely those who did vote, but more, those who didn't. Not voting makes the system break down. It's the only system we have. Some others have the misfortune of dictatorships,  allowing powerful bullies with their gangs of other bullies, to walk in and simply take over the governing of a people and do everything to their own advantage, be it a so-called  benevolent one or not. Statistics tell us that whole percentages of persons did not vote. Why? There is no excuse since senior's homes are given an opportunity. Those absent are considered and can vote. There are rides to polls. There is time off work. Lazy people who simply loll about with "my vote doesn't make any difference" excuses, are also heavily to blame for post election chaos. We are left with decisions that are made by those passionate enough to make their choices count in a vote and those who were apathetic or ridiculous enough to waste their one vote. The latter especially, should not dare to comment on the outcome they had nothing whatever to do with, or perhaps they had all to do with.

Art of Conversation

Young people don't know how they sound. We adults are inclined to be kind and accept their quirks as cute things that will pass and are thus acceptable since they will likely go away in time.  There is a certain quirk among the habits of youth, that is not admirable or acceptable. They speak as though it's a race to get as many words into the shortest time frame possible. What they need to learn is that talking isn't lightning speed texting. Conversation, now an old-fashioned method of speech with the advent of hand held junk, is becoming extinct. Flying thumbs are not voices. They are texters that do not make sounds. Voices that speak words, need to be encoded by a listener. Most teens use not more than three words orally at a time. Listen to them sometime. When I encounter teen clerks or servers over a counter in a store or other situation, I find that they speak so quickly that it's like reading something that has all the spaces between words, removed. Many times, I have had to ask more than once, youngsters serving me, to please repeat what they said. Of course, they give the eyeball roll which I suppose means "oh here's another old duck who is half deaf or stupid". Nope. I am neither deaf nor stupid but I do like to know what on earth you are trying to impart with your machine gun patter. "Slow down" is what I would like to say to this individual. What causes this aberration in speech?  Could it be due to the fact that so few of our young actually speak or converse with each other or anyone for that matter. I find the California drawl that has them ack acking their words and then holding onto the last syllable over-long, an example. This isn't the movies and they are not the Kardashians or Paris Hilton. I say to them, lose the drawl and voice growl. If you don't know what I am saying, tune into Netflix and watch a teen movie if you can stomach it. I am not speaking of Disney sorts of cartoons that are generally clearly spoken, but of the high school angst sorts of mindless films. The over-use of "like" and the usual foul four letter expletives  have become rampant and aped as cute and useable, sadly, by our young folk.  I suppose parents are the people responsible for language training since it begins at home and not at school, as some misinformed may believe. Do parents sit down and talk to their young other than the usual "clean up your room" and "where are you going" which doesn't require other than a grunt in response. Perhaps families ought to gather sans hand-held devices present,  and actually have discussions together to get back the beautiful art of conversation that is almost extinct.

The Greatest

The word "great" means large. "Greatest" means "largest". In that case, "the greatest country in the world" is China? Or Russia? It certainly isn't one of the countries in North or South America as is often and mistakenly termed. What someone who purports "their" country to be deemed as "the greatest country in the world", must mean something other than size. So what does it mean? Does "greatest" mean "best"? If that's the answer, the country that is best, is likely to be the one that a person has or people have, chosen or otherwise, to live in. Some politicians who are renowned for  exaggeration, might speechify and choose to call their place of residence, "the greatest". Given that, what does the term "greatest" mean in reference to a country? Does it signify anything relative to other countries? Does it mean the greatest in economy, the greatest militarily or culturally in its determined values, or its population size and or variety? In fact, it doesn't signify anything until a specific descriptive is put in place. It might describe what one  thinks is its better attributes in whatever sphere it desires to select for that comparison. Or perhaps those who use the statement merely aver theirs to be "the greatest country" measured by their personally chosen standards, the ones they honour themselves and hold to be important. To people in the other countries listening to these designations spouted by someone foreign to them, are likely to find this kind of remark questionable, if not objectionable. What is valuable to one set of human beings may not be deemed to be so by others. Each country has a natural right to be somewhat offended by hearing another saying that theirs is the best country. Even though one expresses  love effusively for his/her own dwelling place on earth, they go too far in using expletives if their words are addressed to the world at large. I speak of those in high political or regal places. It's much more politically polite and harmonizing to be specific in  labelling one's country in such broad determinations without due consideration of the effect of the terms they use. The planet on which we live is now global in every sense. There is not a place on it, that is not thought to be less than the best, by those who breathe the same air and walk on the same earth as everyone else.  While we are inclined toward a possessive sentiment for the piece of the globe we inhabit, we are all creatures crawling on its surface completely, humanely the same, with exact needs for survival and happiness and freedom. That's what makes our planet the best "country" on earth.

Millenium Me Gen

Our newest breed, Millenniums, are said to be selfish, spoiled "youngsters" who think only of themselves and no one else; that they have been privileged with all the post war ( pick one) benefits. They look good, feel good and don't do a lot of good. But let's take a second look at that judgement that, I think, is quite unfair. Why I say this, is that I know a couple of them who are bordering on being Millies. Yes, they have straight teeth, good educations and loving parents even though they don't live together any more which is the norm these days. One is, after a university degree and a couple more years in a specific field, employed, and the other is working her way into her planned future. It looks ideal from the outside but it is incredibly hard work to get that far. Millies who are in the same position don't get there as easily as it looks. They face competition right from the day they are born. Competition is frowned on by well-meaning educators of the young, but it is, first of all, what makes us the alpha species and the successful creatures we are today. Second of all, it hones us into finding out about what personal attributes we have to use in order to best succeed. In the past, there wasn't the kind of competition there is now. You could plan your future and work toward it without having to scratch to find a part time job in order to educate yourself. Jobs for teens were plentiful and paid well enough for you to save money. (Who saves money today?) You went to the institution of your choice and took the courses that you wanted. You spent happy years plying the profession or job you wanted to be in. You married, built a house, had children and eventually retired, Tick and tock. It's not like that now. First, an education is horrendously expensive beyond high school, and if you do hit the halls of ivy, you will likely, unless your parents are wealthy, have a gigantic loan dogging you for a very long time when you leave with your diploma or degree. And good luck finding the field that you educated yourself for. You will likely marry late, if at all, and live under a roof that is mortgaged to the hilt with your two and half children who will naturally want everything their parents had, and certainly what their friends and neighbours have. That's the good news. The bad news is that life gets in the way, as is said, and marriages crash, jobs end, mortgages default and unseen disasters happen that knock you off the lovely future you planned. So what is the answer? What the Millenniums have, that we more modest previous gens didn't have, is big egos. And you need a good solid ego, the strength within your strong, well care-for and attractive body, to carry on and carve your rightful space in this complex world.

But I Don't Want To See It

I try hard not to censor most things that I experience. It seems not to cause harm as an adult to witness events that actually happen, no matter how difficult they are to see. To a degree. There is the matter of good taste to remember. There are uncomfortable visuals, however, that I eliminate from my sight vocabulary because they are too memorable in a negative way and I don't want them hanging around in my mind, thus my private life, thank you very much. What we see can stay with us. It's as though it's imprinted on our psyches. Clearly, we don't want children to be exposed to certain sights that may influence their minds if they are not correct according to our standards as parents and care givers of youngsters. Many of these offensive items are something that adults can process but not most younger formative persons. More and more, with freedoms of the media and others, we are smitten with visuals that are designed to hook our emotions in a way that might control our opinions and sometimes, beliefs. As grown-ups we develop in time,  a sort of filtering system that allows us to make judgements as to what should enter our lives or not. Children haven't yet acquired that facility. When I watch movies or other entertainments, there are some kinds of modern sights that I don't want to see, adult or not. I am speaking here, not of specialty productions, but of ones that are put on regular television or movie screens. At present, there is some kind of warped idea that film watchers want to see males with their backs turned or women seated, urinating. This natural act is one, that is private and therefore, is best kept out of public view. Please. Whoever came up with the ridiculous idea that this kind of activity is fun giving, and needs to be part of something called entertainment? It isn't cute or amusing. A scene like that, seldom has anything to do with the plot. It has no value whatsoever unless to a urologist, perhaps, and even then he or she'd probably like a day off.  Scenes of torture fall into the same category. Sure, hint at it, if necessary to the tale,  but I can do without watching someone acting out giving or being in dire pain and suffering. I go to a film to enjoy myself. I also object to sex scenes that are too real. It's  uncomfortable to watch, unless you have voyeuristic tendencies. You are sitting with your family and friends and have to listen to and look at, a couple of people doing something very private and personal. Why do we, as viewers,  need to be on hand? The scene can probably be done so that we get the idea, but please, not the sounds and sights. Maybe it is appropriate to the story, but for those of us watching,  it's just plain embarrassing. It seems that films are desperately looking to use violence and immorality to shock us. That's not entertainment. The excuse is that we need to experience reality. I can take that film makers want to show us real life, and that's okay, but don't, don't shove it into our faces in a rude and crude way. We pay good money to be entertained, not offended.

Cushion Souls

When you get a new duvet and pillow covers, something magazine happens. That pile of little useless cushions you see on bedroom décor pages, begins to haunt you. You must have them.When you look at the cost of these tiny bits of fabric, you shudder and try to think of something more practical but just as nice. Rest assured, it can be done. I speak from your corner if you don't want to spend upwards of twenty, thirty or more dollars for a cushion something to take off and put on every day, never actually using it. From my collection of scarves, the pretty light ones for use over summer dresses, I found a bird and floral patterned one in the same shades as my bed spread. With little effort that even a hand-stitcher can manage, I made a small cushion cover and stuffed in an old used one before sewing the whole thing up. Then, I scouted about in my "to donate" sack and found a couple of blouses and shirts that had like colours but different patterns that would become more small cushions, Never mind if one side is different from the other, they can be deemed reversible. Sometimes using up your favorite tee shirts or even jeans and jacket backs puts memories on your bed to dream on. When you can't find the exact colours to match your scheme if you are into matchy matchy, those of you who are determined not to leave a single footprint, can scout the closets of your pals or go to the local thrift store and stock up on old-fashioned silk scarves, give them a rinse out and voila, you're back in the toss pillow vein once more. Now, you have a lovely collection of hand-made cushion covers from blouses, tees, skirts, camis, dresses and whatevers. All very well,  but what are you going to use to stuff these delights? Using up all the old tacky cushions to stuff them, and having run out of shredding up old sheets to use as stuffing, there remains the problem of not enough. I solved it by using  my large collection of grocery plastic bags that recycle does not allow for some odd reason, and used them. They work like a charm and your cushion can be light or packed according to how many bags you saved. Granted, the plastic stuffings crackle a bit when you are dressing up your bed top, but hey, they are washable and also re-useable when you decide to take your cushions apart because you got a new duvet. I can see teen rooms with their old plaid shirts, wordy tees and tattered jeans, now cushions, playing toss-the-cushion when friends are there on a sleep over. I can see gramma hugging her once baby blanket cushions and whispering them goodnight. I can even see Junior flopping down on his bed full of hockey and soccer jumper cushions that Mom made especially for him. Cushions are good for the soul.

Don't Need You Any More

I looked at the body, not young but still sleek and pretty much wrinkle free and said, You know what; I really don't need you any more. Fortunately, my sports car couldn't answer back, but if it could, I'm sure it would have had no problem turning about and running off to serve a new owner just as diligently as it had mine. The car may be seven years old, but there's still a lot of km to go in the old girl. The reason for speaking this way to my shiny red vehicle sitting quietly in its slot in the underground parking space, is that I read this afternoon, its flashing light saying, Oil Change Needed 3% . After just getting over holiday expenses, feeling the tax man looming and insurance deadlines approaching in the spring, I seriously considered parting company with my beloved four wheeler. I am not a driver of long distances, but I do love the wind and sun in my hair and feeling the acceleration as my car and I ply the highways and roads throughout the countryside, over the bridges above rivers and along sweeping green meadows and fields. But there are realities. It's time to do some adding and subtracting. During the coastal winter this year, one that was unusually cold and snowy for us, I took taxis here and there. I found it comparatively inexpensive and most convenient. A cab took me right to the door of my destination and picked me up the same way. I didn't have to drive around trying to find  parking spaces or shell out change or pop a card into a slot to pay for a spot that I thought my taxes had already taken care of, especially in  those hospital visitor lots. But that's another tale. Also, I began to add up insurance, parking, gas, oil, repairs, tires, other replacement parts and devaluation on aging. It adds up to far more going out of my bank account, than into it. The so-called convenience of having a car looked like an extravagance. I also remembered when, at one point, for convenience sake, I took the commuter train to and fro. It was comfortable, cheap. frequent, reliable and fast. I started to add up the cost of owning a car against the ways I could save by not having one. How often did I use it and for what purpose that could easily be met by taking a cab instead? While a car is a lovely convenience when you can toss things in the back seat or trunk, drive people hither and yon and be in out of the rain as you pass those poor souls waiting for a bus. But maybe the latter are the smart ones.  I can tell you, it would save me a bundle if I opted for taxis instead of car ownership. I hasten to say that when I had children and/or worked, it was good to have a car. There were late meetings and getting kids to their appointments and going on car trips and lots of shopping for a family. But now that I am single and in the elder stage, plus what with on-line buying and deliveries, easy-to-find cabs and appointments that can be planned well ahead, the only reason I need a car is that I want one.