HAPPY NEW YEAR -- Again

It's 7 p.m. on December 31st.
The weatherman's warning that things will get worse.
I'm in for the night; not up for going out.
I've never quite learned what the fuss is about.

2009 sucked, we all can agree.
It sucked all the energy right out of me!
I'll be glad when it's gone; good riddance I say,
"So Long!" to this three hundred sixty fifth day!

But what will we all get from two thousand ten?
Do we really think starting all over again
Will make things all better, will move us ahead?
Make us wake up and just jump out of bed?

Well, we'd better start thinking with hope in our hearts,
Because pouting and brooding while playing our parts,
Will only bring more strife, more sorrow, more doubt.
And cause us to miss things that could bail us out.

So here's to the New Year and to a new start.
Here's to the prayers that we say in our hearts
That this time next year, when another year ends
We each will still have every one of our friends.

Do the American Media Talk Too Much?

My friend Cecelia is from Nigeria. She came by today and we talked at length about the shame she is feeling because of the young Nigerian man who attempted to blow up that Delta Airlines flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas Day. We also had a fascinating discussion about her community's grave concern for the safety and well-being of the would-be bomber's family.

Some white Americans seem to have difficulty understanding the concept of collective shame -- the kind I feel, for example, when an African American commits some horrible crime; the kind felt by some Italian Americans when a mobster of Sicilian descent orders a hit that becomes front-page news. Cecelia told me today that ALL Nigerians, both in the United States and in Nigeria, are mortified by the involvement of Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab in a plot allegedly sponsored by Yemen-based Al Qaeda functionaries. She even confessed that she had recently decided to say she is from Ghana or from "the Islands," rather than let on that she is Nigerian.

As I listened, I understood. This was something I could wrap my brain around because I had experienced it -- often.

Cecelia's fear for the safety of the Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab's family was another matter. Naively, I asked "Why? Who would do harm to his family?"

There has never been a moment of greater clarity for me about the cultural differences between an American of African descent and a native African. Generally, when an American double crosses an adversary or commits some transgression against another person, the retaliation is visited upon the person who did it. In Nigeria, I'm told, because Mr. Abdulmutallab's father went to the U. S. authorities in Nigeria and warned that his son was up to no good, not only Abdulmutallab Sr., but also every member of his extended family -- sons, daughters, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews --will be targeted for death. Cecelia said there is no way to hide in Nigeria. No matter how rich and prominent this family apparently is, they will be hunted down and slaughtered by Islamic jihadists.

The American press, with its never-ending need to be first with a story, the more sensational the better, might well have sentenced to death a host of innocent people who are guilty of nothing more than being related to a father who desperately tried to prevent another unthinkable assault on the American people. We are notorious for being oblivious to and ignorant of the cultures of the world. We tell it like it is. Let it all hang out, in front of God and everybody. Let us pray that Cecelia is wrong, that she is simply overwrought and embarrassed by this mad man's actions. But what if she isn't wrong? I believe journalists have a responsibility to learn enough about the cultures of the world to know when their zeal for the scoop could result in catastrophic events far away from their keyboards and microphones.

It's a Small, Small, World Indeed

In my previous post, I talked about having hosted my high-school sweetheart and his wife for a brief visit. On the second day of their visit my guests took a short day trip to the town in Georgia where the husband's father had been raised, just to see what it was like and to do a record search for relatives. About 15 to 20 minutes before their return, the doorbell rang. I looked out the glass door, spotted my son's best friend standing there, and smiled broadly. He is like another son to me and I was delighted that he had dropped by during the holidays. As I opened the door, I saw another figure hiding in the corner of the porch. My son had done it again! He loves to tell me he can't make it home for the holidays or Mother's Day and then just show up at the front door. I was thrilled!

Soon my house guests drove into the driveway and were soon meeting my son for the first time.

My high school boyfriend has a son who was born exactly two months before mine, and we had just discovered, while sharing family photos, that these two young men looked enough alike to be be brothers! We laughed at the irony of that and continued to chat. At one point, someone mentioned that the couple's son works as a sports agent in northern California. My son said, "Really? I think my half-sister works at that agency as a sports agent. What's your son's name?" My son then texted his sister and, sure enough, these two young people were colleagues. What are the odds of this Six-Degrees-of -Separation type coincidence occurring?

The two boys will be playing golf together soon at the golf course in the town where my son was raised -- about 2 miles from where my high school boyfriend's son now lives with his young family. Go figure.

Trips Down Memory Lane

I have just waved goodbye to my house guests of two nights. If you are wondering why that would merit a blog entry, here it is. The guests were my high school sweetheart and his wife! They had just flown into Atlanta at the end of a 12-day Caribbean cruise and were visiting their way back to Westchester, IL by automobile.

Obviously, a lot of history has passed since my old boyfriend and I were an item, but there was still the potential for some tension between the Mrs. and me, especially in light of something I have been noticing in recent years. As a lot of the men I know age, they tend to become significantly more sentimental and they like to reminisce about "back in the day," recalling specific dates and incidents that included the two of us. Many women might find these trips down memory lane distressing, especially if they are feeling a little insecure about themselves.

But I needn't have worried, because this man's wife is the coolest, most secure and warm-hearted woman I have ever met.

We had met several times before, but only briefly and under circumstances like funerals, which don't lend themselves to getting to know one another. Over the years we developed the kind of friendship that can exist between two women who have once loved the same man -- phone chats comparing notes sometimes, sharing secrets that only we might have in common, that sort of thing. She is a talker, so I usually spend most of the conversation listening. But this time was different. This time, the Mrs. sat back and watched the dynamic between two people who knew each other at a much different time in their lives, who were clearly no longer interested in each other on a romantic level, but who immediately slipped into their familiar, bantering style of communicating.

At the end of the two-day stay, the Mrs. said that she had learned new things about her husband by watching him interact with me. She said she understands clearly why we would have been a couple while growing up because we had so much in common and were alike in so many ways. She hugged me hard as they prepared to leave and told me she loved me. And as she shut her car door, I overheard her say to him "She's my girlfriend now!" What a great woman.

Random Thoughts on 2009

Time Magazine named Ben Bernecke Man of the Year yesterday, and Barbara Walters has crowned the year's 10 most fascinating people. These are the events that usually herald the end of another 365-day stretch of human history, the time when we pause to look backward and relive our trials and triumphs.

Here is my take on 2009:

• It has been a rough year for almost everybody, yet most of us will make it through. I have learned that the things we dread most are usually not as bad as we feared, especially if we face them head-on and refuse to allow them to overtake us.
• The weather has been anything but normal -- not even close. Georgia went from drought to floods with barely a time for transition. But our water bills have risen steadily. And the debate over global warming drones on.
• It is one thing for a political leader to pass a bill, state a policy or institute a new program. It is quite another thing to get the money out to the people, the jobs created, the banks to make or modify loans.
• The 2-party system of government doesn't work for anyone except those who choose to play in the governmental sandbox. The rest of us are incidental beneficiaries or victims, depending on our luck.
• The Swine Flu pandemic has been bungled badly by the CDC and we saw it coming. Heaven forbid we should face biological warfare!
• The death of Michael Jackson and the fall of Tiger Woods have punctuated my belief that Fame and Fortune are more of a curse than a blessing. Michael died lonely and isolated. Tiger is alive, lonely and isolated. Their money hasn't helped.
• Being a superior athlete (Governor, Senator, rock star, actor, whatever) does not translate into being a model husband (wife, father, mother, citizen, leader, etc.)
• "Sully" the pilot came the closest of anyone to being a bona fide hero when he landed that aircraft on the Hudson River.
• Sarah Palin, train-wreck that she might be, appeals to an awful lot of Americans on a level that is just plain frightening.
• Guantanamo Bay put a blazing spotlight on the conflict between the American philosophy of warfare and the philosophies of our enemies.
• Justice Sotomayor prevailed and added another level of diversity to the U.S. Supreme Court. Slowly, but surely, America is moving toward the realization of its original promise.
• Flawed as we are, Americans are lucky to live in a country that is based on the freedom to protest when we disagree with the direction the country is taking. Watching Iran handle its citizens' protest of the rigged presidential election reminded us of how lucky we are.

What Has Become of Self-Respect?

The unfolding tragedy of the Adventures of Tiger Woods has been a fascinating study of modern American morality. It is a tragedy on so many levels.

First, of course, are the feelings of Elin Woods, who has suffered the ultimate disrespect from a spouse, not once, not twice, but almost a dozen times that we've heard about so far. She had seemed willing to stay in the shadow of her larger-than-life young husband, caring little about the limelight. Words become ineffective when attempting to describe the exquisite pain caused by such betrayal. She will be very lucky if she hasn't been exposed to a lifetime of illness thanks to her husband's infantile failure to protect her health, much less her heart.

The Woods children, too young now to understand, will certainly be humiliated as they grow older and learn of their father's wild display of --what? Narcissism? Sex addiction? Arrested development? How will Tiger explain it all to a son who will look to him for guidance to become a man, and a daughter who must find a way to trust men to live up to their commitments to her?

Equally tragic, however, have been the so-called "bimbo eruptions," the outing, whether voluntary or involuntary, of the women who have romped with Tiger Woods during his 5-year marriage. The two who have actually appeared on national TV to give "their sides of the story" are particularly interesting. It is tempting to judge them for being so gullible as to believe that they each were Tiger's only extra-marital love interests, or to allow themselves to help a married man cheat on his wife, but I am way more disturbed by their decisions to speak publicly and to say what they said!

To discuss any man's sexual prowess and his private physical attributes with anyone, other than him, is about as cheap and tawdry as one can get without participating in porn for the camera. To openly admit that, no, they hadn't really given the man's wife and kids much thought during the months and years that they met him in hotel rooms throughout the world, even allowing themselves to be flown to the Woods residence for sleepovers, is so sleazy it's laughable. Both profess to being heartbroken themselves because of the existence of so many other mistresses in Tiger's lair. Is Elin Woods' heart so irrelevant that they would exchange it for a few minutes of notoriety on television?

The word class is frequently used to describe an individual's possession of elegance, grace and dignity. It is generally regarded as quite desirable, at least among those who also have it. I thought Tiger had that kind of class, but as it turns out, he doesn't. He needs to find some, if he is going to be the kind of father to his children that his father was to him. I can only imagine what his mother is feeling today about her son and his behavior.

When I was young I used to roll my eyes when adults would sigh heavily and ask "what is this world coming to?" or say "these kids today." So, if you are a young person, ready your eyeballs, because I have to ask "why aren't parents teaching their daughters to have some respect for themselves and others these days?" I suspect that the search for fame and validation, by any means necessary, is the unfortunate by-product of reality TV, and shows like American Idol, America's Next Top Model and Real Housewives of (pick the city). Whatever the reason for all these vapid young women, running around half-naked. wearing somebody else's hair and manufactured mammaries; who are willing to bed down with any high-roller who "sends for them to join them at their tables," it is really, really sad.

A Friend in Need

A message hit my email inbox early this morning that took my breath away. It was from one of the many high school friends I have recently rediscovered. He was one of my first romantic interests, very briefly, until we both moved on to the next one. He wrote to say that his 48-year-old first-born son has passed away after a two-year illness.

Who among us who are parents have not thought with dread about the prospect of losing one of our children? Nature does not intend for that to happen. It's just wrong.

This poor man--I'll call him Jack -- has suffered through so many heartbreaks in his life. He didn't even know he had this son until a few years ago. He and his girlfriend had been teenagers when she became pregnant, and they did what couples "in trouble" did in those days -- got married. Predictably, that didn't work out so well. When they fought for the last time, she cruelly told him that the son that was born to them was not, in fact, his. That was enough for him; he left and never looked back. Several years ago, this son's children enlisted the help of another old friend to help track down the grandfather they never knew. Jack was, in fact, their dad Brian's father.

In the interim years, Jack struggled to find his way. He remarried and had four other children, all wonderful, ambitious and successful. On one day, on this exact date ten years ago, Jack watched as his 34-year-old son, Michael, was crushed to death between a truck and a loading dock. The trauma of this tragedy destroyed his marriage and left his ex-wife emotionally impaired to this day.

Jack kept his children on track and threw himself into his work, amassing a fortune. He finally met his soul mate and is now happily married. When Jack was located by his grandchildren and learned of Brian's true paternity, he also learned that Brian was in prison. Jack beat himself up relentlessly, believing that had he not left him Brian might have turned out better. Ever since, Jack has been trying to make up for it. When Brian was released from prison he was already ill, and Jack did everything he could to support him. Now, he's gone.

Jack is a wonderful man who loves his family so much that he will soon travel to the Philippines to walk his niece down the aisle at her wedding. His brother cannot find it in his heart to accept the Filipino man his daughter has chosen, so Uncle Jack stepped up. He cried as he told me this when I called him this morning. Through his own pain, he found the strength to cry for the pain of someone else he loves.

Be strong again, Jack. Your remaining children will get you through this and you will smile again soon.

The Truth DOES Set You Free

Over the years of my adult life I have come to dread the November/December holidays. It is such a stark contrast to the delicious anticipation I experienced as a child and young adult, I almost feel guilty about it. But the truth is that the pressure to have a feast on the table twice in about a month's time; to get the house decorated to feel festive and special; to choose just the right gift for everybody in your life; to write and mail impressive and personalized holiday cards before it's too late; to bake the special cookies and treats; to look like a million bucks on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, and to pay for it all, is exhausting.

This year, however, has been an extremely pleasant surprise. My regular readers know that I have had some major life-changing events in 2009, most of which have changed drastically my financial status. And because I have chosen to be totally candid about it all, this has been the most carefree holiday season of my adult life! Now I understand the real meaning behind that old "every cloud has a silver lining" adage. Because everybody I know has been made aware of my unemployment, my loss of equity and investments, and the fact that I am old now, with little hope of generating the kind of income I once had, no one is expecting much of anything from me this year. It's liberating!

Whatever I do this year will be straight from my heart. Small gifts have been chosen with great care, so that their relevance to the recipient will be absolutely and instantly obvious. If I choose to skip the obscenely expensive tradition of mailing fancy cards to people I don't even talk to or think about throughout the year, I will do so without the usual concern about what those people might think. (As if they stand by their card collection and discuss the cards they haven't received!) Since it is my turn to host my small family for Christmas dinner, not one of those special people will care if I serve sandwiches or standing rib roast, because they already know I will do what I can.

Several people have remarked about how brave I have been to be so open about my setbacks. At first, I thought I was being brave because I was basically admitting some level of failure, a behavior that I haven't often displayed. But it turns out that by laying it all out there, I gave myself a huge (and free) gift: the time and inclination to think about what is really important about the season. I highly recommend it.

A Day of Complete Gloom

It is raining and has been for nearly 24 hours. It is the kind of rain that just keeps coming down. No wind, no thunder, no lightening; just rain.

The gloom around me mirrors my state of mind. It would be better, today, if I weren't such a news junkie, because then I wouldn't have listened to the President's speech and the subsequent commentary last night, nor would I have watched the morning news. But listen and watch I did.

The President is in such a terrible predicament. He is damned if he does and damned if he doesn't. In order to lay out his Afghanistan initiative, he had to remind us that the people who flew into our buildings and killed 3,000 people had been dispatched from that far away country.
That reminder had the desired effect on me as I sat and tried to actually visualize how many people that really is. It made me angry all over again. We have to do whatever is necessary to prevent such a thing from happening again. We must.

But we have been trying to do that for 8 years straight! We have taken some wrong turns, made some questionable detours into Iraq and under-sourced the Afghanistan forces. The Taliban is stronger than ever and the perpetrators of 9/11 are probably not even in that country anymore. And now we have to deal with Pakistan and the terrorist-haven it has become. So now we have to send reinforcements in to finally get the job done. We must.

But wait a minute. At $1M per troop per year, those 30,000 additional soldiers are not going to pay their own way. How do we pay for this surge? We need money that we don't have to pay for healthcare reform and unemployment benefits and stimulus programs. Where are we going to get MORE money that we don't have? And even if we do what we have been doing to solve all our other enormous problems -- charge it -- who's to say that any of it will actually work? Many have tried and many have failed.

So I woke up this morning feeling the proverbial weight of the world on my aging shoulders and turned on the news. OMG! Now the last hero of our modern world, the icon of golf, the epitome of professionalism and wholesome family values, the pride of Asians and African Americans and all minorities, has fallen on his ass. Another woman -- one with about as much class as the spikes on his work shoes -- has taken him down. What is wrong with these men!? The history of the world is littered with powerful and important men being toppled by their own testosterone. Is it really that overwhelming, that irresistible?

The final light went out of my day when I read my own son's Facebook update and he took a shot at the woman for keeping all those text messages and voicemails in order to set up "another icon." He was probably thinking of Mike Tyson or Kobe Bryant or...
No mention of being disappointed in Tiger's lack of marital integrity or even in his obvious poor choice in paramours. Nope. Once again, blame the harlot, blame the media, blame El Nino, blame anybody or anything but Tiger.

I think I'll go to bed.

Slow News Weekend?

The world's greatest golfer and his wife had a fight. Something about a tabloid story accusing him of hanging out with some cocktail waitress. The argument escalated because the wife wouldn't let it rest. She kept talking and talking; he kept hanging his head and saying nothing. Finally, his legendary temper took a hike and, then, so did he. He jumped in his Escalade and started the engine. His wife followed him into the garage and picked up a nine iron from one of the 30 golf bags lined up against the wall. She didn't want him to leave, so she started wailing on the back windows, so as not to injure his money-making apparatus. He squealed out of the garage and down the driveway in a rage and forgot about the fire hydrant at the bottom. He hit the hydrant at about 40 mph, lost control of the car and smashed into his neighbor's tree. His mouth hit the steering wheel on impact with the hydrant; the airbag didn't deploy until he hit the tree. End of story.

You have just read what I consider to be the most logical explanation for Tiger Woods' mishap with the tree. My question is What married couple on the planet hasn't had a couple of rough days and nights in their time together? And why does the media believe that it is any of our business? I'm just glad that the original reports of serious injury were apparently overstated and that Tiger will eventually return to his work.

I am grateful that we managed to get through the Thanksgiving weekend without a major world crisis. I understand that the cable news organizations have to fill the hours they spend on the air with something, but give me a break.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

The distinctly American holiday of Thanksgiving is a mandatory no-whine zone. Whichever Creator you pray to already knows that times are hard, the government sucks, today's kids are out of control, and older age comes with an assortment of annoying aches and pains. Every day when I wake up I have the choice to either wallow in my problems all day or to smile and work toward solving them. I'm human, so some days I wallow. Not on Thanksgiving.

This year required serious introspection in order for me to make the list that follows. But, unless you are deceased, there are things for which you can be thankful. Here are some of mine, in no particular order:

• My son, Stephen, the center of my universe. He has the ability to make my day turn from sad to joyous by making the kind of phone call he made just before Thanksgiving. He was extremely excited about some progress he had made on a project that could have monumental consequences. He said, "You know, Mom, it's really not about the money. I LIKE doing this." I am thankful that after all these years, he has found something that could make him say that.


• My sister. Our bond is more often unspoken than not, but it is as solid as Crazy Glue. She is the most loyal person I know.


• Facebook. Since deciding that it is okay for geezers to participate in the social networking craze, I have reconnected with friends from as far back as elementary school. And now there is no need for people to write those comprehensive holiday newsletters because I can keep with their daily lives on Facebook. Or not.


• My family. As families go, mine is small. At my age, it keeps getting smaller. But those who are left are standup people who I can be proud to call family -- at least most of the time. My three cousins feel more like siblings because we grew up across the street from each other and spent many, many holidays watching the adults behave badly.


• My real friends. I am not the greatest friend in the world. Of course, I'm there if I am needed and someone tells me that I am needed. But I am the worst at just reaching out and seeing how you are doing. I get lost in my own head and before I know it another birthday or Christmas has rolled around and I haven't made one call. My real friends understand that about me and have learned not to keep score, but just yell when they want my attention. There are two in particular who have stuck with me in spite of my quirks: one who I've known since I was 4, and one who I've known for about 4 years. I am also fortunate to be real friends with my former husband, from whom I have been divorced for nearly 25 years. Time heals.


• Coqui, my Bichon Frise dog. She is always at my side, does exactly what I ask and greets me with exuberance every time I leave and come home.


• Atlanta. This city is has breathtaking beauty, especially during the Fall. This year the colors of the forest we call home are spectacular.


• Great neighbors. I am never worried about what will happen if I should become ill or incapacitated, even though my sister and her son's family live almost an hour away. They are the best neighbors in the world.

I am thankful to be alive, with reasonably good health, and to still have a handle on my sense of humor.

Women: Take Charge of Your Own Breasts!

If there is anyone left out there who questions the motives of the opponents of health reform, they have not paid attention to the latest "guidelines" released yesterday by the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force. This is an odiferous case of a secret partnership between this task force and the insurance lobbies if I ever saw one.

There are sixteen members, all physicians, on this task force, but not one oncologist. http://www.ahrq.gov/clinic/uspstfab.htm#Members . This same web page explains the process by which the USPSTF arrive at their recommendations. It is not the task force itself that conducts the clinical studies and research underlying their findings. No, instead they contract with an 'Evidence-based Practice Center' (EPC), an entity which apparently operates independently and for profit. Nowhere on the web page is there anything that explains how these EPCs are held to a standard that would prevent them from falling prey to outside influences.

Kathleen Sibelius, Health and Human Services Secretary, was quoted in a Reuters news story today as saying that the task force does not set policy in her department, and that this recommendation is in no way an excuse for insurance companies to refuse to pay for mammograms under the current guidelines. We'll see about that.

In the interim, I suggest that any women reading this blog continue to do their monthly self-examinations and, if they are 40 or older, to go ahead and have those annual mammograms. No scientist, task force or politician can tell me that there is no need to stay on top of my health. Even if today's practices only save a handful of lives each year, it is well worth the time and expense.

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up?

My computer crashed Sunday night! Right after I published my blog about Sarah Palin, I closed Blogger and noticed that the caricature I used had accidentally become my desktop background.
Two seconds later I received one of those scary Fatal Error messages, and this time it was real. None of the tricks I have learned over the years were working. I had a full-blown computer CRASH on my hands.


Now far be it from me to assign any paranormal powers to the ex-governor of Alaska, but something happened with that picture. You are probably thinking that there must have been a worm or a virus attached to that caricature. It's possible, I guess. I gave it the proper attribution at the bottom of my post, trying to avoid being zapped for using the drawing illegally.
But, somehow, the darned thing took me out of business until just about an hour ago.

Computers can be evil things. It took about a nanosecond to miss-hit the key that sent that drawing to my desktop. It has taken the greater part of two days for me to get it back up and running the way it should. And I am still two days away from restoring all the files and settings, which at least I have, thanks to several previous crashes and the lessons they taught. I now have an online backup service for just these occasions (and I seriously recommend that you do the same.) I had 33GB of files on this computer before the crash, and it takes hours to restore them. Without the backup service, I would be sunk.

I'm pretty proud of myself for having the knowledge and the patience (my sister calls it stubbornness or plain craziness) to work through this challenge. I had to start over with a totally blank computer. I had to clean the entire system with three different anti-spyware/malware/virus software titles before I could be sure I was out of the woods. There were a few moments in the process that I feared I had killed the whole machine, and I began thinking about what magic I would have to work to buy a new one. Life without my computer is out of the question. That's how much of a geek I have become.

She's Baaaaaack!

Sarah Palin's at it again. Under the guise of a tell-all book, Sarah seems to be launching her 2012 Presidential campaign with a frenzied book promotion tour. This time, however, she is unfettered by McCain campaign "handlers," those obnoxious functionaries who she claims told her when to speak and what to say, where to go and what to wear. Whether "the Media," which Sarah has accused of being extremely biased against and unfair toward her, will respond any differently this time remains to be seen. One thing is for certain: Sarah Palin gets all the attention from the media she wants and then some.

I, personally, cannot wait for next week's series of TV interviews with the industry's heavy weights. I might even buy her book, so that perhaps now I will be able to see and understand the appeal this woman has to her supporters. Is there really something more to admire than a pretty face and figure? Will there be a level of critical thinking revealed that will negate the inane remarks she made during the 2008 campaign?

I am well aware of how suspicious conservatives are of so-called Democrat intellectualism. Although I have never thought of myself as an intellectual, I do tend to rely on rational thought and I try to fight my strong tendency toward the emotional when I'm trying to solve a problem or make an important decision. If that makes me an intellectual, I'll take the label, but I can't figure out why that makes me a suspect. I can, however, understand why conservatives might not be suspicious of Sarah Palin. No one has ever called her an intellectual!

So far I know a handful of FACTS about Mrs. Palin:

* Despite her annoying (to me) voice and speech patterns, she has been successful at being elected to public office, so she does have the ability to make a case for her leadership potential.

* For reasons that must be a secret, because the stated "reasons" do not make any sense, she quit the job her state elected her to do.

* She can deliver a scripted speech extremely well. No script? Not so well.

* She has had to deal with the same kinds of family issues we all do in some way, at some time.

* Lots of people find her attractive.

The very fact that Sarah Palin has a large following makes me curious -- about those followers and about Sarah. What am I missing? I intend to find out.

Sarah Palin caricature by Steve Thomason , http://www.spot-studios.net/

Happy Birthday, Coqui!

Today is Veteran's Day, the official day to celebrate all the brave men and women who have served in the U.S. military. My flag is flying out front in tribute also to those who are not yet veterans, but who are deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq.


But today is special for a far more personal reason to me. Today is my little dog Coqui's 8th birthday. Coqui is short for Coquette, a name that this little beauty has earned over the years. She drives my friend's Lhasa Apso, Gizmo, absolutely mad by totally ignoring him whenever they meet. She knows she is beautiful and struts her fluffy little body as if she is above all the drooling and sniffing going on around her.


I put off getting a pet until I retired from the daily grind. I never felt it was fair to leave a dog home alone while I worked 10-12 hours a day, even with the services of a dog sitter. When I did decide it was time, I spent several weeks determining which breed would be best for me and my life-style. A life-long fan of large, male dogs, I thought it was time to downsize and to reduce the effects of canine testosterone in favor of a more manageable size and temperament.


The Bichon Frise was the recommended breed by the AARP magazine the month before I began my search in earnest. It would be a perfect choice for me because it is hypo-allergenic, extremely intelligent and too cute for words. They do not require a lot of exercise --they can be happy in a small apartment or a large home like mine--but they love to romp and play. Their average weight at full growth is around 15 pounds and they live an average 16 years.


The $1200 I paid for Coqui might just be the best money I have ever spent. Despite my earlier declarations that "she is just a dog," Coqui is like another child to me, except she never asks for money. She is always glad to see me when I return; never lets me out of her sight when I'm around. She sleeps with me, runs errands with me and lies at my feet for hours when I'm reading, writing or watching TV. She is the best antidote to loneliness, and her high-maintenance coat keeps me busy every day. Our twice-daily walks around the neighborhood help to keep us both reasonably fit.

Coqui is the best and I am fortunate that she chose me for her companion. Happy Birthday!

It's A Wonder We've Made it This Far!

Mad Men is a TV series, currently ending its third season, about a Madison Avenue advertising executive in the early 1960s. Both the writing and the acting in each episode is nearly flawless.I have become addicted to the series, so I spent the better part of Saturday and Sunday watching the Seasons 1 and 2 DVDs.

The authenticity of this program is impressive. All managers are male. All secretaries are female. Everybody smokes cigarettes constantly. Hard liquor is available in the boss's office. The three-martini lunch is de rigeur, and marital infidelity is as common as the snap-brim hat worn by all class of men. And the women wear curve-hugging clothing, the highest of heels, and carefully coiffed hair, all designed to attract passes from the bosses and their minions. Everybody is a WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) and ethnic jokes flow like the booze they all drink.

Female employees are patronized or objectified, sometimes both. Most of the time, they are ignored. They are expected to "cover" for their bosses' indiscretions and lapses in character, while enduring snarling wrath when their covering doesn't work.

The men feign camaraderie while operating under a brutal set of Rules of Engagement. They will do anything (or anyone) to get ahead while keeping secrets capable of undoing it all. This is certainly the 60s I was trying to grow up in.

It is often painful, sometimes shameful, to watch these scenes play out. But I love it because it proves how very far women (and men) have come in the American workplace, and I have lived through it all. Luckily, I was still in high school in the early 60s, oblivious to shenanigans in the offices downtown. With all the smoking and drinking and carousing that went on, it's a wonder anybody lived to old age!

H.R.3962 Affordable Health Care for America Act

I wanted to feel happy that the House of Representatives passed the President's Health Care Reform Bill by a very narrow margin last Saturday night. I wanted to celebrate, but I had an uneasy feeling about it all because I really didn't know what the bill actually said. After spending my Sunday morning in the usual way, i.e., watching the Washington talk shows, I still didn't know much about what the bill says. I knew which of the panelists were anti-big-government and anti-spending. I knew how many times the word "shall" appears in the 1900+ page document (something like 3,400 or more), but very little about which parts of our ailing health care system were being reformed.

I did an Internet search and found Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi's web site http://www.speaker.gov/newsroom/legislation?id=0327. There is a list of several different ways to become familiar with the details of the bill. There is a full pdf version, a full html version, a 4-page summary, a 10-page summary, and several other forms of information. I, of course, chose the 4-page summary, and while I probably did miss out on some of the specifics, I think I am now on firmer ground for coming to conclusions about the bill.

Several items particularly caught my eye:
1. Parents will be able to keep their young adult children on the family insurance plan until his or her 28th birthday, instead of the 24th birthday.
2. Obscure pre-existing conditions will no longer be an impediment to getting health insurance, because the insurance companies will only be allowed to look back 30 days into the applicants medical history instead of the current 6-month window.
3. No public monies may be used for abortions, except in the case of rape, incest or danger to the life of the mother.
4. A history of domestic violence will no longer qualify as a pre-existing condition.

I now understand why this document is nearly 2000 pages long. The level of detail in this bill is, while overwhelming, truly necessary to cover the many issues faced by ordinary Americans.
Am I ready to celebrate? Not quite. I still don't understand how all of this is supposed to be funded, and until I know just how large or small an addition to an already unwieldy bureaucracy will result from this bill, I will not be cheering.

Oh, yes. And about item number 3 above: I can hear the sounds of escalating outrage among women coming closer and closer. The next stage of this debate will be a barn burner!

Remaining PC in an Insane World

I am reeling from the tragedy unfolding at Fort Hood. This incident provides so many different principles to ponder, it was hard to zero in on just one. But this one is one of the toughest among the very tough ethical issues of today. I'm talking about the decidedly INcorrect practice of racial and/or cultural profiling.

When I saw the bulletin crawling at the bottom of my TV screen yesterday, my first thought was that some soldier or civilian resident on the U.S. Army base had gone "postal" over either a domestic dispute or some barroom brouhaha. Minutes later, the news department broke into the programming to say that the shooter had been identified, he had been shot by a U.S. soldier, and his name was Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan. Even more noticeable to me than the distinctly Middle Eastern sound of that name was the lack of any remark about that name on the reporter's part. The following string of thoughts raced through my head:

1. I wonder if he's a Muslim
2. What's he doing in the U.S. Army?
3. I'll bet this is a terrorist act.
4. They wouldn't have just promoted him to Major if he was anything but a model soldier!
5. As an African American who has lived for 65 years dealing with racial prejudice, you (meaning myself) should be ashamed for even thinking these thoughts.

So I sit here now, attempting to come to terms with what is clearly a dilemma, not just for Americans or fill-in-the-blank-Americans (i.e., Native or Asian or Italian or Muslim, etc.), but for humankind. Our brains are wired to develop conclusions based on a series of visual or auditory clues. It works very well for most of us most of the time. But try these on for size:

-On bad hair days I like to tie a scarf around my hair with the knot on the side, just above one ear. When I do, I can count on having at least one person say "you look like a gypsy!" Am I a gypsy? Hardly. But what if I took to carrying a crystal ball around with me and wearing a long, full and colorful skirt? Chances are the responses would change from "you look like a gypsy" to "Are you a gypsy?"

-A man named Bill DeBardelaben submits an application for an important job in Amsterdam. His Dutch name jumps off the page at the hiring manager, immediately piquing his interest. But when Mr. DeBardelaben arrives for his interview, the hiring manager is flummoxed and hardly able to speak. It turns out that Mr. DeBardelaben, an American, is clearly of African descent and his skin color is that of the darkest ebony. There is no hint whatsoever of his being of mixed race. Because he's not. He is from Alabama and his ancestors were slaves owned by a Dutch plantation owner.

In either of these examples, no one would accuse the people who made these assumptions of being prejudiced; at least not to the level of cultural profiling. They took in clues, processed those clues based on previous learning and/or experience, and drew conclusions. The problem is that there was crucial information missing, but neither observer knows that or what it is.

If I were to say out loud that all Sicilians are Mafioso; all diamond merchants are Jews; all black men are dangerous; all Irish people drink a lot; no white people have rhythm; all cops are bullies; all politicians lie; and all married men cheat, I would be pummeled by any world citizen interested in being politically correct. But who hasn't had one or more of these or similar thoughts about whole groups of people?

I believe strongly that we should continue to encourage ourselves and others to avoid making snap judgments based on limited visual and audible clues. It's not fair and, ideally, we all deserve the benefit of the doubt. But will we ever be able to totally overcome that which makes us human, that ability we have to think critically and quickly to determine if we need to engage our fight or flight instincts? That might be just a little too much to ask.

It's Official: I'm A Real Senior

Looks like I made it to 65, and I am really glad I did. I have already documented the drawbacks of being this age, but there are plenty of things to celebrate about it.

I have always been outspoken and independent, but at this point it has become unbridled. I do what I want, when I want and with whom I want -- every single day. I go only to functions in which I have an interest, and I have permanently retired my wardrobe of formal wear, which had become significant because of my career in Public Relations. No more cocktail parties with people I must know, but wouldn't, if I didn't have to. No more rubber chicken luncheons and brainless small talk.

Life has become relaxed and quiet enough for me to actually meet and know all my neighbors, their children and their dogs. I stroll when I walk my dog instead of pulling her down the street in an effort to get somewhere on time. I marvel at the number of cardinals I can spot on a given morning, and I watch in amazement as the squirrels play chicken with the cars on the busy street. Most of the time they win; not always, though.

Sometimes this leisurely pace affords an opportunity to see things I would rather not. This morning, for instance, I observed a rat the size of my neighbor's Chihuahua strutting across the patio of a local restaurant carrying Lord knows what in its mouth. These are the kinds of things we expect to happen in a big city, but normally we are moving too fast to see them. This is one of the few times when I wished I was still rushing! Maybe, since I am 65 now, I will actually forget what I saw the next time someone suggests dinner at that particular restaurant.

News Talk Show Moderators: Hosts or Hosers?

I'm starting to wonder why I treat David Gregory's Meet the Press, George Stephanopolis' This Week in Washington and John King's State of the Union as Must-See-TV. The roles of interviewer and interviewee are being played these days by The Hammer and the Artful Dodger!

By the time I had watched all three programs this past Sunday I was gritting my teeth in frustration. The host asks a loaded question, hoping to get a sound bite that can later become a controversial headline. The guest, it seems, would rather eat ground glass than respond with a straight answer, because he or she knows full well that the words will undoubtedly come back to bite. The host says, "Why can't you just answer yes or no to this simple question?" or something similar. The guest repeats a long statement, relevant to almost anything but the question, and talks long enough for both the host and the viewer to forget the original question.

After one complete hour of this back and forth game of Gotcha, the only news that's been made is that the Sunday morning talk show has become a place where a highly-paid bully engages a highly skilled evader of the "whole truth" until the time is up!

Statistical Smoke and Mirrors

Many of us absorb news reports about the effects of the global recession, hoping to relate the details of those reports to our own individual realities. A little over a year ago, despite local and personal evidence to the contrary, Americans were being told that the economy was "strong" and showed no signs of weakening. We all now know that, whether intentionally or unintentionally, we were being misled.

Today we are seeing news stories suggesting that the recession is over, unemployment is declining and the housing market has bottomed out. My own personal reality says otherwise. I haven't been able to sell my house and I haven't been able to find a job, which causes me to question exactly how these things are really measured by "officials."

As an example, let's look a employment statistics. Comparing the number of new claims for Unemployment Insurance benefits in a given month to the number of new claims for UI benefits in the previous month can result in what looks like a reduction in unemployment. In fact, that seems to be the way the official unemployment numbers are being reported. But in reality, that only tells us that fewer new people showed up at the Unemployment Office this month compared to last month. What it doesn't tell us is probably a much better indicator of the health of the labor market -- under-employment.

In economics, the term underemployment has three different distinct meanings and applications. All meanings involve a situation in which a person is working, unlike unemployment, where a person who is searching for work cannot find a job.

Meaning 1: The employment of workers with high skill levels in low-wage jobs that do not require such abilities, for example a trained medical doctor who works as a taxi driver.

Meaning 2: "Involuntary part-time" workers -- workers who could (and would like to) be working for a full work-week but can only find part-time work.

Meaning 3: "Over staffing" or "hidden unemployment", the practice in which businesses employ workers who are not fully occupied---for example, workers currently not being used to produce goods or services due to legal or social restrictions or because the work is highly seasonal.

The U.S. Department of Labor's Bureau of Labor Statistics does provide data that takes labor under-utilization into account. On the BLS website (http://www.bls.gov/news.release/empsit.t12.htm) there appears a table that shows the labor statistics in a variety of iterations. For instance, the first row of the table shows "persons unemployed 15 weeks or longer, as a percent of the civilian labor force," the most familiar to most readers. It shows that in September 2008 that percentage was 2.3 versus 5.3 in September 2009. When the data is adjusted for seasonal factors, those percentages went from 2.4 in September 2009 to 5.4 in September 2009, a small difference.

However, when the measure included "Total unemployed, plus all marginally attached* workers, plus total employed part time for economic reasons, as a percent of the civilian labor force plus all marginally employed workers," the seasonally adjusted figures went from 11.2 percent in September 2008 to a whopping 17.0 percent in September 2009! The term "marginally attached" is defined as persons who currently are neither working nor looking for work but indicate that they want and are available for a job and have looked for work sometime in the recent past. Discouraged workers, a subset of the marginally attached, have given a job-market related reason for not looking currently for a job. Persons employed part time for economic reasons are those who want and are available for full-time work but have had to settle for a part-time schedule.

In an October 26, 2009 news story in the San Francisco Chronicle, writer Tom Abate reports that California's already scary 12.2 percent unemployment figure becomes a terrifying 21.9 percent when adjusted for underemployment!

Credit Card Holders: Watch Your Back!

"Since passage of the Credit CARD Act, we found that credit card issuers have done little to remove practices deemed unfair or deceptive by the Federal Reserve," said Shelley A. Hearne, managing director of the Pew Health Group, which oversees the project. "In fact, some of the most harmful practices have actually grown more widespread-not one of the bank cards reviewed would meet the legal requirements outlined in the Credit CARD Act, which is bad news for consumers."

This quote was taken from a press release on PR Newswire. This story was being reported by Meredeth Viera of the Today Show when I was waking up this morning. Ms. Viera closed the segment with "Why am I not surprised?"

Are these big banks deliberately thumbing their noses at their customers by milking their ability to gouge credit card holders until the new Credit Card Act of 2009 becomes effective in February? Sure seems like it. The nation's largest banking institutions have been raising their interest rates without warning, resurrecting their old annual fees, charging more late charges and doing everything else they can think of to finish off the financially-injured consumer, while they still can. This is the thanks we, the taxpayers, get from the recipients of government bailouts?

I ran to my laptop, pulled up my credit card statement and saw the evidence in black and white.
There in my Recent Activity section was the entry: ONE-TIME MEMBERSHIP FEE! The entry was made on October 26, 2009 and the amount charged was $0.00. Phew!

You might think that I am relieved. Not at all. Today the amount charged might be zero, but they were thinking about it, weren't they? Why else would it suddenly appear?

Republican Hi-Jinks

For the past month or so I have been getting extremely frequent phone calls from someone with the following caller ID information: Unknown Name, Unknown Number. I don't even answer some calls that identify the caller, so there was no way I was going to answer these. Except they started coming in morning, noon and night and then every 30 minutes or so.

This morning I answered. "Is this {My Name}?" To which I replied in my most menacing tone of voice "Who's calling!?" "This is the Republican..." CLICK! I hung up.

Before these totally anonymous calls began, I was receiving the same volume of calls from NRSC with a Washington, DC area code. Googling NRSC, I discovered that these calls were from the National Republican Senatorial Committee. This was a first! Never, ever, has anyone from the Republican Party approached me about anything. Did they really think that their relentless efforts to get me on the phone would increase their chances of getting a donation out of me? Resorting to telephone trickery, while typical of the tactics of the GOP, is a new low, even for them!

It is bad enough that the one exception to telemarketing to people on the Do Not Call list is political campaigns. The Democrats have also done their share of harassing me. But at least they never tried to hide their identity!

The Illusion of Democracy?

Yesterday I was in documentary film mode. Being a movie buff since childhood, I have only recently developed a taste for learning via documentary films. The first one I watched, called Who Killed the Electric Car?", delves into the short life of the GM EV1 electric car -- a fuel-efficient electric auto that was once all the rage in the mid-1990s and now has fallen by the roadside. GM developed the spiffy little sports-like car in answer to the California Air Resources Board mandate that all seven car manufacturers selling cars in the state would have to develop and market a zero-emission car. The filmmaker, Chris Paine, interviewed government officials, GM executives and several Hollywood celebrities lucky enough to have leased an EV1.

The second film was The U.S. vs John Lennon, about a slice of American history that I obviously lived through. This retrospective of the events of the Nixon, Johnson and Peacenik times chronicles our government's response to the former Beatle's anti-war activities from 1966 to 1976.

Conclusions:

1. The success of the Toyota Prius flies directly in the face of the geniuses at GM who, fueled by their overriding greed and their affair with the oil industry, determined that there was little demand for an electric car. The Prius was developed by Toyota at the same time as the GM EV1 and for the same reason.

2. Those of us who take literally the phrase "government of, by and for the people," owe a lot to the eccentric and brilliant John Lennon, who wasn't even an American, but who used his celebrity to help put the spotlight on the anti-war movement.

3. A handful of people who have been placed in critical positions within both government and big business have the ability to alter the fate of millions of unsuspecting Americans. That is simply terrifying.

Medicare Madness

So on November 1 I will officially become a Medicare recipient. I'll let you know in a few months whether I think that is good or not. But I wish I had a dollar for every page of "information" I have received about Medicare in the past six months! Since someone, somewhere wisely decided to make it illegal for insurance companies to use telemarketing for the purpose of hawking their Medigap programs, my mailbox began to fill up with unsolicited envelopes containing letters soliciting my request for them to send me information! You can reread that sentence -- I'll wait, because it may sound wrong, but it is exactly what happened. The aforementioned wise person apparently also made it illegal to just go ahead and mail the information without my prior permission.

About a month after all these insurance company mailings started arriving, the company from which I am retired with full benefits started sending random, legal-speak letters about things such as Assigned Coverage, Part B Premium Payment Assistance, and How to Sign up for Medicare (even though the company later signed me up themselves!) Every day that something new arrived, I became more and more confused. I had no idea what was about to happen.

THEN one day I received a letter from the Social Security Administration saying that based on my 2007 tax return, I would be required to pay an additional premium for Medicare Part B -- a little less than $40 would be added to the basic premium of little less than $100 per month!What a minute, 2007? I was laid off in 2009! Why should I pay extra now, when I have no job?!?
The SSA website was ready with an answer. If I had a "life-changing event" such as a "dramatic reduction in income," I would have to prove it and they would reconsider. A phone number was given to call to get this accomplished. I encountered the usual automated menu and pressed the number associated with Medicare. There was a recording which described what Medicare is -- period. There were no options for getting a customer service associate to take my information. Exasperated, I grabbed my documents and drove downtown to the public office.

THREE hours later, after being grudgingly interviewed by a surly government worker; after being assigned to a "specialist" because of the complexity of my mission; after explaining to the so-called specialist why her computer "wouldn't take the information;" after watching several citizens with hearing problems or intellectual issues be cruelly disrespected; I left not really knowing if i had accomplished anything, despite the fact that I was told I was "all set, but it wouldn't take effect until next year." What?!?!?!? Fortunately, something worked correctly; I received a letter less than 10 days later saying my premium was changed back to the basic.

Call me crazy, but I would think that, given the target audience of Medicare correspondence and processes, there would be an effort to simplify things for those of us who are heading into the autumn of our years. If this is any example of how well the government "runs" a 75-year-old program, let's give a whole lot more thought to the wisdom of a public option for healthcare insurance! And I will remind you that I am a Democrat -- a Democrat with sense enough to recognize a problem when I see one.

The Healthcare Debate

A conservative friend of mine (yes, I have two or three) told me earlier this week that he thinks President Obama is spending too much time on the healthcare issue and not enough on the economy. I was inclined to agree, not because I don't believe the American healthcare system is broken, but because so many Americans are just plain broke -- especially this American!

But yesterday I heard a story that made me think again. A couple with a young son decided to leave their respective corporate jobs to start their own small business. Of course that meant that they would give up their group health insurance, and that was factored into their decision. They knew they would have to buy health insurance independently.

Both Mom and Dad had had their share of medical challenges over the years, including multiple back surgeries, but they both qualified for their new insurance without a hitch. The toddler? He was denied coverage. Why? Because when the child was 2 years of age he developed the habit of pulling out the hairs from his eyebrows, which is sometimes a manifestation of an emotional disorder. The parents sought and received treatment for the child and the behavior stopped and has never returned. The insurance company denied coverage on the basis of a pre-existing condition!

News junkies like me know that just this past week there were two ridiculous stories in the news: One about a 4-month-old baby boy who was denied coverage for obesity at 17 pounds; and the other, about a 3-year-old girl who was denied coverage for being too small. The little girl had no underlying medical issue; she is not a person with dwarfism. She is just tiny. These were considered by the insurance companies involved to be pre-existing conditions.

What?!?!?

Conservatives have been screaming about the burdens small businesses are bearing in today's economy. Some of those same politicians appear to be absolutely opposed to healthcare reform. Guess which segment of the economy is being shut out of healthcare coverage on the basis of arbitrary and nonsensical decisions?

Social Networking Perks Me Up

Yesterday's melancholy post elicited concern from loved ones, so today is about fun.

Many seniors have the idea that Facebook, MySpace and Twitter are strictly the domains of young people. That's not true. Facebook has provided me with daily injections of happiness as I reconnect with people from as far back as high school, and stay in touch with people all over the globe. One of my fellow high school drum majorettes shared one day that her husband was buying her a puppy for her birthday. The next day, her birthday, we were formally introduced to said puppy via a photograph.

Another friend had been uncharcteristically quiet for some time and I was starting to worry that he might be ill. Then one day on Facebook I discovered a new picture album from him entitled "Special Lady." Aha, so that explained it!

Give it a try. There is no reason to feel lonely and isolated when there are all these tools for staying connected.

The Invisibility of Seniorhood

Being unemployed and single leaves a lot of time for me to think. Lately I have given a lot of thought to what has happened to my ego over the past 20 years.

Confidence has always been a strength for me. It was ingrained in me by my family from the instant I was born. God had given me unusual intelligence, they told me, and it was my duty to maximize that gift to the fullest. And so I strove to do so. Later, when the boys starting buzzing around, I was shocked to learn that they found me attractive. That little surprise was to become as valuable a gift as the intelligence would be. Sometimes the two "gifts" collided, because some men/boys seemed to prefer not to hear much from my brain. It got confusing.

Somehow, though, I figured out how to navigate the world and enjoy a life of achievement and recognition, both of which were very important to me.


Around age 45 I began to think of myself as a person at the top of my game but running out of time. The pressure to produce more, faster and better than everyone else, came from the workplace, yes; but it was also coming from inside me. Subconsciously, I think, I was feeling the pull of professional gravity -- the closing of that "window of opportunity" which appears on the career continuum. Now, looking back, I know that's exactly what it was.

Over the next 20 years, life happened. I grew older, shorter, thicker, too gray to keep up the hair color, more accident-prone. The mind stayed sharp, but the short-term memory faltered progressively. I retired early (age 55), started my own business, and set out to realize my dream of being my own boss. That sounded so great--until I tried it. I loved working on client projects, but absolutely hated the business part -- the quarterly taxes, the invoicing and bookkeeping, and worst of all, the hounding my clients for payment. I hightailed it back to a company with a staff!

10 years later, there are days when I don't speak a word to another human being because I don't leave the house and I communicate via email. I am totally uncomfortable with my matronly silhouette and the lack of attention from random men who seem not to even see me. Outwardly I believe I still appear to be highly confident, but inside my confidence is shaky at best.
And it is not because my birth gift, intellect, has diminished (except for that pesky short-term memory!) It's because of that "only skin-deep" quality that has never solved a puzzle, never invented a life-saving medical procedure, and never written a book. How absurd.

Dear Mr. President:

I was watching the Sunday morning talk shows today, and I decided the time had come for me to give you a piece of my mind. I know you are aware of how hard I worked to get you elected -- you keep sending me emails telling me how much you appreciate what I've done so far. Then you ask me to do something else. I'm cool with that. I understand the Saul Alinsky brand of community organization; I'm a Chicago girl. But Mr. President, I've gotta tell you: It's time for you to start delivering!

I heard Valerie Jarrett spout the litany of things you have accomplished since January, after she said one more time that "we have to remember the mess he inherited." Well, my birthday happens to be November 4, the same day all of us succeeded in sending you to the White House. So it's easy for me to remember that you have been at this for almost a year now. As you like to say, "Let me be clear:"

• I was laid off on February 28, 2009. I have been looking for a job ever since. I have even applied for some of the Federal jobs advertised under the Recovery Act. I have never had the courtesy of a reply from anything other than a computer. Where are the jobs you keep referring to? I read about programs in place to try to put seniors back into the work force, and at almost 65, I certainly could use some help landing a job. But I don't see any jobs listed under the programs.
• I put my home on the market on March 15, 2009. I discovered, to my shock and dismay, that the value of my house declined some $200,000 since the last time it was appraised in 2006. Not one offer came in before the listing expired in September.
• I have been talking to Wachovia Mortgage since March 2009, trying to get myself positioned with a loan modification so that I can avoid going into default. They are still not offering a loan modification under the Housing Affordability and Stability Plan you announced back in February 2009.
• I received my property tax bill two months late, because my county's tax commission couldn't figure out what to do about the loss in property values. Guess what they did. They raised my already exorbitant taxes another $400!
• Thankfully, I do receive Unemployment Insurance benefits for the time being. Soon they will run out. But I am paying income taxes on these payments! Why? How hard would it be to suspend income taxes on UI benefits, leaving us with a little more to try to survive on?

Mr. President, I understand that your plate is overflowing, what with Afghanistan, health care, Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Wall Street Behaving Badly, and so on. But I'm sinking fast over here. When are you going to force these states and municipalities who are receiving all this stimulus money to pass it on to those of us who are paying for it?

Talk is cheap, Mr. President, and frankly, I'm having a hard time defending you and your policies when all my family members and friends are losing everything they have worked for all their lives. Please do whatever you have to do to start producing some results. I'm on your side, so I can imagine how frustrated those who aren't must feel. Can we count on you?

GRRRRRRRRRRR!

Yesterday was not a good day. I want to tell you about it, but it is so convoluted, circular and crazy, I don't know how to begin. It all began back in March 2009 after I was laid off. I knew I was going to run into problems paying my mortgage if I didn't find another job, and I also knew that at age 64 I was probably going to have a hard time finding one.

So I called Wachovia Mortgage and started the conversation about what to do to avoid going into default and eventual foreclosure. I knew to do that because I am a political news junkie. I knew every component of President Obama's Home Affordability and Stability Plan, and I knew I qualified for a loan modification under HASP. Turns out I knew way more about it than did any of the people I would eventually talk to at Wachovia Mortgage. More on that on another day.

Yesterday's issue stemmed from an observation I made on my credit report. Because I have a credit monitoring service that notifies me whenever something changes on my credit report, I was aware that there had been two "hard inquiries" -- one in August 2009 and one in October 2009. Both inquiries were made by RELS Credit Service on behalf of Wells Fargo Bank. Each of these inquiries occurred exactly one day after I had spoken to someone in Wachovia Mortgages Loan Counseling department. Also relevant is the fact that Wachovia Mortgage had been purchased by Wells Fargo Bank and the merge of the two entities was in progress. I figured these inquiries had something to do with my "talks" with Wachovia, but the reason I was concerned is that my credit score was immediately lowered each time they hit.

Back in August, when the first one hit my credit report, I called the bank and asked why there was an unauthorized credit report pulled. They denied having done it, insisted that they never do that without my permission, and suggested I contact the company that made the inquiry. Made sense, right? Problem was that RELS Credit doesn't seem to want to be contacted, because there is no phone number listed in their contact information on the credit report. I Googled the company and found a number of blogs complaining about unauthorized credit report inquiries from RELS Credit. I then checked the Better Business Bureau and found that they were not members and carried a B- rating. Hmmm.

When it happened again on October 2, I assumed it was the result of the Forebearance Agreement I had signed with Wachovia, which was an interim solution while we waited for Wachovia Mortgage to get their act together on their government-mandated Loan Modification program. (I had been given two prior dates by which Wachovia Mortgage would have that program up and running -- both dates slipped. Now they won't state a date -- just that they MUST have it up and running by the end of the year!) But I must have had too much time on my hands yesterday, because the fact that my credit score had dropped 15 points as a direct result of these inquiries suddenly bugged the heck out of me. So I started up again.

Let's just say that, after two hours, calls to both RELS Credit and Wachovia Mortgage (yes, I did find a phone number for RELS Credit on the Better Business Bureau website) and finally screaming at a very rude and sarcastic so-called supervisor at Wachovia Mortgage Loan Counseling after having been transferred five different times and having to start from the beginning each time (what's your name, what are the last 4 digits of your Social Security number, can we call you on your cell phone, etc., etc., etc.) I am in the exact same place I was two hours before -- nowhere.

So, I filed a formal complaint with the Better Business Bureau!

Seniors: Beware of FreeCreditReport.com

We are all being reminded daily how important our credit scores can be when we go out to buy something requiring credit. Be very wary of the so-called "free" credit monitoring services -- they ARE NOT FREE!

Case in point: FreeCreditReport.com advertises on TV and all over the internet, convincing you that you can pull your credit report and credit score at will. Hidden in the print too small for most seniors to see without high magnification is the fact that by pulling the "free" credit report you are signing up for a monthly credit monitoring service. If you are dilligent about checking your credit card statements (and you must be!) you will suddenly notice a charge of $14.95 or something similar. This website, owned and operated by the credit bureau Experian, counts on the likelihood that you will either not notice the charge at all, or simply tell yourself when you first see it that you probably did order it and just forgot about it.

If you think you need a credit monitoring service, make sure you are getting one you actually want -- not one you have been duped into buying.

Welcome to My Blog

If you have landed on my blog space, you undoubtedly have searched to find some perspective on the effect the recession is having on seniors in the United States. Lots has happened to me since January 2009. I have been disappointed a lot, frightened, exasperated and, at times, humored.

Never in my wildest nightmares did I expect to be in this predicament on the eve of my 65th birthday. I retired once in 2000, but became both bored and apprehensive. Bored because there is only so much daytime TV one can take. Besides, I missed the sense of purpose I had taken for granted during my career. Apprehensive because the way money was flying out of my retirement account, I realized it might not last long enough. The women in my family have impressive longevity -- my grandmother passed away in 2006 at age 98! My mother is 85. I could be living for quite a while longer.

So I went to work. I had a great job that allowed me to work at home, apply all the skills I had amassed in my 30 years of working, and make a decent salary. I was laid off in February 2009 and have been looking for a new job ever since.

Join me each day to see if I have learned anything new that you might find helpful. If not, I will post my current thoughts, small victories, etc.