RESPECT

It’s not hard to observe the lack of respect today. Nearly every day there is something written about it, posted about it or filmed about it.  Why do children seem so disrespectful?  What happened?

How did the noun – respect – become such a bad word?

I’ve asked friends how they were taught respect. We all agree there was a very fine line between respect and fear when growing up.  I understand why you shouldn’t respect someone because you fear them, but we were definitely raised on that fine line.

We feared disappointing our parents and the consequences for misbehaving.  We were taught to respect the law or there would be hell to pay. As children we respected our elders no matter what race, sex or ethnicity because we were told to.  As I grew I then understood why we should.  In the hierarchy of the family we were placed at the bottom; we were definitely seen but not heard when adults were speaking.  We feared our teachers but most of all the fallout from our parents.  There seemed to be a direct hotline from school to our homes.  Our parents knew the things we had done before our feet even hit the door step.  And I love this one – our parents gave permission to our teachers, in front of us, to discipline as they saw fit.

The disciplining thing happened to some of “us” in the family, more than others…

We were grounded, had things taken away and if the family couldn’t afford something, we didn’t get it. In a home that didn’t have central air conditioning, our parent’s bedroom had the window AC unit; we had to sweat ourselves to sleep. In a family of six, we had to find our own way to events or school; our parents were the only ones who used the car in our family.  Phone conversations were present for everyone to hear because the corded phone was in the kitchen.  We had curfews and hand-me-downs and ate what was served at dinner, period. Going out to a nice restaurant was about once a year and it was a treat to drive 12 miles for fast food every month or so, if that.

My parents weren’t my friends…

They weren’t my friends until I was in my mid to late 20’s.  I often told my children when they were growing up, that I wasn’t their friend either, I had plenty of those.  But I was assigned the task of parenting them which didn’t allow us to be friends – until later.  Thank God they’re old enough – I love hanging out with them now!

I need to make something perfectly clear; I do not blame the disrespectful children of today for their behavior. How can you, they didn’t come out of the womb with an attitude.  But somehow many parents stopped the whole fear/respect thing and decided it was easier to be friends with their offspring than to teach them hard lessons.  Life at home was easier if they defended their child’s bad behavior rather than standing up for the teachers who are with them all day.   Giving in to tantrums or shoving an electronic device under their noses was easier than taking the time to speak and interact with them.  And it appeared to be easier to give and give until the checkbook said $0.00 than to say no.  A lot of parents believe their children are perfect, polite and kind when in reality their children are imperfect, rude and disrespectful.

Children should have a voice, after they’ve gained the respect to be heard.

Good behavior, good work ethics, good deeds, and responsibility earns respect.  A kind heart, respecting themselves and others, plus animals, property and laws, earns respect.  Learning to fail, to try, fail and try again, earns respect.  Being grateful for whatever is laid before them, earns respect.

And although I sound like children aren’t being taught by their parents or the adults around them, oh, they are. Children are observing their parents yelling at their teachers, flipping off people, cutting each other off in their cars, and hiding behind electronic screens while rudely attacking another person’s opinions with offensive and hurtful replies.  They’re watching adults ignoring laws and proceeding through life with an “I do what I want” attitude.  They are also being taught that they are not as important as the cell phone, that never leaves their parent’s hand.

Children look up to us as role models, and we as adults often search out the worst in people, their faults, their imperfections, and their differences. We’re addicted to see which person will be kicked off the island or who the latest victim in the headlines might be.  We’re the examples these children emulate.

When did we, the adults, lose our sense of respect?

We need to begin practicing respect –  like holding doors and saying please and thank you, plus letting those last minute cars merge in without having a heart attack. We need to actually read what we’re commenting or posting and stop to think – “Is it true?” and “Will it help?”,  then hit delete if either answer is NO.  We’ve got to reintroduce ourselves to the often forgotten world that’s just outside the door – nature.  We need to realize it might not always be around if we don’t respect the earth.  And maybe it’s time we all respect the fact that we are pretty damn lucky just to be here, in this moment, in this country and on this planet.

We need to start respecting ourselves more, too. Besides the obvious of eating better, drinking less and exercising more, we need to disconnect.  We have to begin to think our own thoughts rather than the thoughts that are constantly being infused into our heads by the news, social media or acquaintances.

We need to be quiet, talk less and listen more.

A neighbor shared with me two words from the sermon at her church – Taste and Talk. I thought, ok….?  She went on to explain how the priest shared that in today’s world we care so much about what goes into our mouths, the TASTE of food or drink, but we think nothing of what comes out of our mouths when we TALK, words that are full of anger, untruths and cruelty.  His observation was so precise!

There has to be a breaking point where common decency, respect and courtesy returns. The youth of today won’t find it in social media or the news.  They won’t find it in adults who break the law or who only think about “me.”  They need to be shown by their family, their neighborhoods and their schools.   They need to experience the reward of a job well done or owning and taking care of something, plus they need to experience the consequences for their lack of respect.

We don’t need to be friends with these little darlings; we just need to be better teachers of the word: respect.

Grateful for you,

Sheree

“During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.“

– George Orwell

I know it’s been awhile since my last entry, over two months in fact. It’s not that I haven’t been observing things, because I have, but what I’ve been “absorbing” hasn’t been so pretty.  Not sure if you feel the same way, but so many things that surround us today make me feel so dirty.  I want to take a shower for about two weeks to get rid of the stickiness of hatred, division and sadness.

After taking down Christmas décor in January I returned to my home which had already been stripped of its glitter and garland. I love Christmas decorating, but after packing it away the house feels so much lighter.  It’s as if it’s gotten things off its chest, sort of like coming clean.  So I’ve decided in this year of 2018 to risk being hated, unfriended and chastised.  I’m coming clean with my thoughts on current events and don’t need to announce it on a billboard or in the news.  This mind dump of mine will do just fine.

Coming Clean

Politics:

I am a liberal in my heart and a conservative in my brain. There… I said it! At first I thought this was a detriment, but in reality it actually allows me to view things from both sides of the aisle.  I have friends who are conservatives and some who are liberals.  You all need to know that I give equal time to researching articles you post, for the facts, so don’t take it personally.  Sadly, I just don’t believe what is reported, or posted or quoted anymore.

Remember when we all used to make fun of the Enquirer and how we never believed anything that was written in it?  (Well at least I thought that way.)  That’s how I now feel about every news outlet and every article that is written.  It’s pretty hard to get the facts today without them being camouflaged in personal opinions.  Before the internet or Facebook we read newspapers or listened to a few news stations that appeared to report, not opinionate, the news.  They didn’t share the opinion of every person in the world, which Facebook, Twitter, and Hollywood do today.

I had to form my own opinions, not absorb someone else’s.

Sorry got off track… Now that I think about it, I may really be a constitutionalist. I tend to like order so following rules or laws makes sense to me and calms me down.  Using that little document in Washington D.C., called the Constitution has helped us make decisions for the last 230 years.  I do wonder, though, why many think it’s a pick and choose document.  Pick and choose what rules they’d like to follow when it is helpful in their discussions or endeavors.  I never thought that’s how it was intended to be used… but I’m not a history major either.

I’m very sad that I can’t talk politics with people who don’t lean the same way I do. When speaking with them I always feel as if what I have to say is not as important or accurate as what they’re sharing.  I feel like they are always trying to make me believe their truth, as if what I believe has no merit.  My opinion is undervalued and I must have been living under a rock and have no clue what the entire world knows to be true.  I wonder if conservatives made liberals feel that way for the eight years of President Obama.  I wonder if both sides know that’s how they make people feel.

I’m waiting for the scales to start balancing out in this crazy world. It seems we all tip left, then right, then left and right again.  There have been times that people on the left have supported things people on the right support now and vice versa, but short-term memory loss kicks in and they forget their speeches and actions.  Can’t we all just hang out in center field for a bit?

Religion:

There’s another set of simple rules I “attempt” to follow: The 10 Commandments.  Although I don’t attend a church and I’m not too religious, I have used these guidelines since Catholic grade school.  I have failed at a few, one being No. 8.  Weirdly a collection of tiny spoons has found their way into my kitchen; I’d like to think that I saved them from accidently being thrown out. Shit I AM a rule-breaker…

If you look at other religions they also have a set of 10 rules – Buddhists (not fond of their “don’t be intoxicated” one), Muslims – yep there are 10 Commandments in the Quran (again, not crazy about their “cutting off of the hand” or “stoning” sections). Most religions have “rules” which are not too complicated.  They’re basically a ‘how to be a nice person’ list of rules. (Disclaimer:  This author does not support the concept of Sharia Law).

Immigration:

I have mixed feelings about immigration, obviously, since I am a rule follower. Because of gangs, drugs, and corruption splitting up families – how would people not want to search out a life in America to raise their family and find work?  But in reality, I cannot go and stay in another country without following their laws.  So I wonder why can’t the funds that support these hopeful people in America go to making their homelands safe and prosperous.  I’m not sure but I think many of them would not have wanted to leave their homes if their countries were safe, had work for them and had a supportive government.

Things I think about at 2:30am…

If “sanctuary” cities, counties and states can break a federal law, then why can’t I break city, county and state laws?  And if cities, counties and states are breaking the law, how are we to teach our children to follow the law?  How is it that we pick and choose which laws to follow?  When children break the law, disrespect, hurt and kill people, how can we all be so shocked?  If we as adults stop following the laws, what keeps this country from falling into complete anarchy?  Research anarchy in countries, it’s not pretty…

History:

I don’t want to eliminate things in the past that we don’t agree with today. Young people need to read about our history, without erasing or destroying it, so we can keep from repeating the stupid stuff.  There’s something called the internet that can help them look it up.  They can see how far we’ve come. They can stop looking back to reignite wounds and try looking forward to revive healing.

#metoo:

I’m trying to think of what women friends I have that have not been harassed by some dingle-butt in her life.  I’m not saying that all men are dingle-butts and I hope that I didn’t raise one, but there were and are men out there who were not raised to respect women or men or things for that matter.

Whether it’s being dragged into an office, smacked on the ass, spoken shadily to in another language or had their boobs looked at instead of their face, it’s all degrading.  I’ve personally had women in an office turn against me because I “didn’t” have sex with the boss (not a good day for womanhood).

I want to stand up right now and applaud all those women and men who said, “hell no” and walked out, quit the job or promised themselves that when they could, they would…  Now let’s get on with living and stop accusing every person who ever hugged you or called you babe, an abuser.  It minimizes the real trauma women and men have experienced at the hands of their abusers.

Gender and Race:

I don’t want this to be a genderless, grey world. There ARE differences between men and women; they are supposed to be different.  A lot of people like that there are differences.  This goes with skin color too.  I love that we live on a Technicolor planet.  So people, please don’t try and make us all genderless clones and colorless….

My mind is made up; I won’t stop calling men, men or women, women. If I try to call them a huMAN or a perSON I will somehow offend someone.  And if it comes down to calling people, people, how will I be able to determine who a “people” is?  If I describe them by gender, race, hair color, height, or clothing, I’m most certainly going to hurt someone’s feelings.  It’s a description not an attack on their PERSONhood.   Shit, is hood a bad word too?  I am happy to be a WOMan in the huMAN race.  I’m not intimidated by men, and I’m not apologizing for being a person of the lady-kind…

Abortion:

My feelings have changed quite a bit from my twenties to my sixties on abortion. “No one should dictate what I do with my body”- that’s something I felt very strong about in the 70’s – before I had children.  To help you understand my thought process today, here’s an example:

I skateboard down a hill and I break my arm.  It was my bad idea and I’ve got to deal with the consequences.  I could have taken precautions like wearing protective gear. I possibly should NOT have skated down the hill or perhaps I should have gotten lessons.

I’ve used the letter “I” a lot in this section, because it was all about ME.

When getting pregnant though, it’s not all about “I” anymore, it’s about him and me and the little life that is created.  I could have abstained, used the pill, and he could have used protection.  Ultimately the act between a male and female is to make a baby – I know I’m sounding like my mother on this point. I mean it’s also fun, but that’s not the subject of this paragraph.

I just can’t get my head wrapped around the idea that it’s ok to end a 20 week old pregnancy, which is halfway through the term.  How is that ok?  That baby has toes and hands and breathes and can wave at you in an ultrasound.  It’s no longer about “I”, it became “WE” 20 weeks ago.  I’m going to have to go back to the how come we can pick and choose what rules we follow.  Just my opinion, at 20 weeks, ending that baby’s life seems like murder (see my thoughts in the Religion subheading regarding No. 6 in the Commandments).

In 38 states if you kill a pregnant mother and her unborn child dies, it’s a double homicide.  Looking through my eyes it’s not only the woman’s body we’re talking about anymore, it’s their houseguest too.  Tons of people believe life begins at conception, I get it.  But if there is to be an abortion why not do it within the first four weeks when that zygote is a bundle of cells?  You know then that you ARE pregnant.  Don’t wait until it’s actually waving at you.  I’d need law and theology degrees to discuss this further…  (Disclaimer:  I’m talking about consensual relationships, not the exceptions, i.e. rape/incest, medical issues etc.)

Why does it seem that this world, as a whole, has digressed like 50 years?

Have we really digressed or is it just what news outlets want us to believe?  Do they have a vested interest somewhere to divide this country?  I see people of different races, genders, and sexual preferences talking with each other, laughing and working together.  They’re raising their children and attending church together.  They’re doing acts of kindness all over the place, but it seems like all we hear about is the .001% of society who are messing up.

Although the topics listed above come with a sticky side and very adamant or angry people, I truly believe in my heart that all, if not Most People are Good.  Enjoy the song and lyrics (after the ad of course…) by Luke Bryan.

Grateful for you and coming clean,

Sheree

Christmas, a Season of Hope.  So here are MY HOPES for Christmas…

HOPE — transitive verb — 1: to desire with expectation  of obtainment or fulfillment

I hope I won’t throw a shoe through the TV if I hear one more Christmas commercial for Mercedes Benz.

I hope that people will use Facebook less and actually speak to each other.

I hope more happy memories will fill the personal sadness I carry for the loss of friends which happened in the month of December.  Kelsea, Pam and Marian, loved by so many, left this planet w-a-a-a-a-y too soon.

I hope that all those who walk with the diagnosis of a disease can go for just one day without being saturated in all the worry, pain and fear that goes with it.

I hope that I will never be discovered as the person who writes the “Santa Letters” to my grand-nephew. (I don’t think Henry reads my blog yet…)

I hope that people will stop dwelling on the bad in every situation.  That they are able to shift gears to the good, even if it takes a night of sipping wine and rocking in the corner.

I hope that firefighters and law enforcement individuals feel our support and gratitude each day when they wake up and put on their boots and badges.

I hope that all those in the Service find the strength each day to continue to protect the freedoms we so easily take for granted and know how much we appreciate them.

I hope the line at Costco is less than 15 people deep when I return for a seafood-run later this week.

I hope that lonely individuals are greeted with a smile, a kind word or a call not only on Christmas, but throughout the year.

I hope that I’ll be able to find another pair of these comfy jeans.

I hope that I will continue to laugh until I cry or snort, with my family and friends.

I hope that I will never forget the true meaning of Christmas.  Cause if you stop believing — you get underwear.

I hope people can look at each other without seeing the scarlet letter of C (conservative) or L (liberal) tattooed to their foreheads.

I hope the fires that continue to burn in California will soon be contained.

Hope from the Ashes – Canyon Fire 2

I hope that egos and the need to be right can be erased from the minds of those in conflict. That speaking your truth and listening with an open heart can happen without anger towards each other.

I hope that every automobile built will come with turn signals, because so many of them don’t have them…

I hope with all my heart that you have a magical Christmas; one that is filled with twinkling eyes, laughter and hugs. A Christmas that is filled with joyous reunions of loved ones here and wonderful memories of those who are gone.

Here’s a little Christmas gift from me to you on “Christmas HOPE” from the Skit Guys…

Grateful for you and the gift of Hope,

Sheree

It started out with a little haze; I thought it was just the marine layer hanging out longer than normal. Then the smell, the one you fondly remember when camping out, but dread when living right next to acres and acres of brush-land.  My husband, luckily home today, sprints up the block to the ridge and returns with the words…“It’s definitely a fire!” that was at 10:15am.

We haven’t received a warning on the phone or email, so I checked the Twitter feed of Anaheim Fire & Rescue – yep they posted at 9:57am a vegetation fire was confirmed.  Weirdly enough there was a fire at that same location the previous week, so I felt like my mind was semi-prepared. The first fire moved toward the east but unfortunately today’s fire is being blown towards us due to the Santa Ana winds blowing southwest.

10:26am – Be Prepared to Evacuate – Phone alert

I call our neighbors and go to notify the caregiver for Evelyn, the 97 year old who lives below us. As I go outside the sun is eerily shadowed by the veils of smoke now reaching us, the smell is getting more intense.

Looking out the Condo

Texts and calls go back and forth from neighbors. One call is to possibly grab Sandy’s dog if she can’t get home.  Another is from Julian to check on his fiancé who isn’t answering.  He’s stuck on the freeway and won’t be home in time, he said she will be afraid.  Everyone is good and on the move, time to pack.

We have a list of important things to take in case of an emergency.  Like a fire or that inevitable earthquake we all wait for in California.  It’s a list to follow when panic takes control of your senses. I start going through it:  cat/carrier/food, medicines, clothing, important paperwork.  Oh and the fire box – why do I need to take that if it’s a “fire” box?

We carry labeled boxes of pictures down the spiral staircase then down the stairs to the garage. Damn view, the elevation of the condo is great for enjoying sunsets, but hell on your legs when trying to evacuate.  This fact is proven when carrying a CPU, a laundry basket full of hard drives, baby books and essentials from the loft to the garage (thank you husband).

10:37am – Evacuate due to Fire- Phone alert

A calm panic now begins. We have all the picture boxes in the cars, cat carrier is loaded with cat and food, and bathroom items and prescriptions are laid out. Clothing and essential paperwork are next.  I start going through my files and grab medical files, insurance paperwork and auto paperwork – not sure why I grabbed these, but at the time I felt they were very necessary.  The check book, weird receipts on the desk, my address book, safety deposit key, IPad and a current client file are thrown into my briefcase.

Priorities….

The calm panic has now accelerated and so has my breathing. I get my suitcase out and throw in underwear, shorts, t-shirts, and the cool new black blouse with the crazy buttons – wait, what?  Will I really need that?  It’s an effort to stand before my closet as the panic increases and then I decide – I don’t really need any of these clothes.  As an afterthought, perhaps packing a pair of jeans and maybe a sweatshirt would have been nice.

On the other side of the suitcase are the framed pictures taken from the wall and carefully wrapped in our Blackhawk jerseys?   Sensibility has left the building, guess my calm plan of actually putting clothes into the suitcase went out the window.  Oh crap that’s right we need to close the windows so the smoke and ash don’t saturate the inside.  Too late – it smells like a bonfire in here.  We do manage to get them closed and the air on before we leave.

I grab the beautiful picture book from our Italy trip last year and head down the stairs. I come back up for one more look at everything we have worked so hard for or have been given or have collected and say goodbye to it all, not knowing what will happen next.

It’s true it’s only stuff, and I’ve said it a billion times to family, friends and clients, but when taking that last look at everything my heart did hurt, just a bit. All my paintings, books, the champagne glasses we received for our wedding, the signed Bears helmet, Jeff’s train set from his youth and my box of treasures are all left behind.

11:15am – We leave our Home

We pull out just as the police go door to door and the helicopter starts a run on the ridge with a water drop. As I drive out I can see the hills surrounding us on fire and have no words.

Back of Car

We are safe, our cat is alive, our family pictures, clothing, jackalope and already wrapped Christmas gifts (don’t judge, they were already in the laundry basket) are safely in the back of the car. We are safe…

After spending the afternoon at my husband’s work with a few neighbors, we head out to a Sheraton who graciously allow us to bring the cat – maybe because I sounded stressed when I made the reservation or maybe because I had reiterated at least 5 times that we have been evacuated .

In the parking lot I remove the framed pictures from my suitcase to lighten my load. I drag the suitcase; carry the cat carrier, my briefcase and a backpack.  My husband meanwhile lugs his suitcase, laptop, backpack and cat box.

What a sad smoky site we make!

In the room we start to calm down after ordering dinner and a bottle of wine.  I look in my suitcase to see if I actually remembered to pack some pj’s.  In my search I find a few items that I have no idea how they got in there.  A winter long sleeve shirt – perfect for 80⁰ weather.  Then there’s a spandex body shaper that you wear under tight dresses – what the?  Something every evacuee needs…  I guess panic also causes you to become blind when packing.

I lie in bed and try to go through every detail of the day.  What would I have done differently? A phone tree would have been great!  That way I’d only have to call one person with the details. Our emergency list could have been a bit more complete.  Perhaps setting aside those important papers in one special spot labeled “IMPORTANT PAPERS” would have helped.  I would have put clothes in my suitcase instead of framed pictures and should remember my hairbrush, because you know you can’t buy one of those…

Once again the universe opened up and reiterated the lesson it’s always trying to teach me –

WHAT IS REALLY IMPORTANT?

I’m getting better because I was able to walk away from everything, except those baby pictures and wrapped Christmas gifts.  I was able to smile and feel blessed and grateful to be able to drive away because we were safe.

If I can share one thing with you it would be this.  Walk through each room in your home, open each closet, look in each drawer and cabinet then decide – “What would I take?” What would be important enough to put in the car those last 15 minutes before leaving, forever?

It was cathartic going back to the house when the evacuation was over. Knowing I can enjoy everything in it but having the ability to lose everything without being too emotionally attached – because after all – it is only stuff.

I realized I’m surrounded by things I love but I’m not burdened by them. Which is sort of a cool way to look at life and relationships, don’t ya think?

Grateful for you and my spandex body shaper,

Sheree

P.S. My heart and prayers go out in a special way for those who lost everything here in Anaheim and in Northern California.  Thank you to the Anaheim Fire and Rescue and all the firefighters throughout Southern California.  You worked tirelessly to save ours and 3500 other structures, losing only 80.  There were 1,660 of you, plus 36 hand crews, working on 9,217 acres.  You used everything you had:  21 aerial support resources, 8 dozers and 255 engines to protect us all.  We are blessed by your courage.

Exhausted Fire Hero…

It once was green…