Untouchable

How often do you touch another human being? How often are you touched by another person?
Perhaps you are a parent of young children, or you have a lover, or you are a caregiver. This question then may seem very weird to you.

I am an untouchable. I am fat - who wants to touch that. I'm old, but not old enough to be considered non-sexual. I am a woman who has worked her entire life in a male dominated industry, where touch has become dangerous. I am a NY'er, our reserve is legendary. I am a recent emigre' so I do not have a history with the other folks in my community.

Listening to an interview with Russell Banks about his book Lost Memory of Skin, it dawned on me how easy it is for me to go a whole day without touching anyone. Not even accidently. Though I work directly interacting with the public, I mostly never touch them. If it happens it is the accidental touch of our fingers as I hand them their change.

How common is this? Certainly I can think of other outcasts in our community who probably find this to be true. The smelly homeless guy. The crazy street lady. But how common is this amongst people who seem to lead ordinary lives? And what does it mean for society that it is so prevalent?

I am nervous to mention that almost all of my human contact is with children. Will you assume I am a pedophile? Or will you recognize that I am a Grandmother whose grandchildren are still young enough to freely hug an old lady?

Mirror Image

I came upon this review for a new book, "The Woman in the Mirror" by Cynthia Bulik PhD.

Many women-regardless of income, size, shape, ethnicity, and age-are uncomfortable in their own skin. We fixate on our body image and try endless diets, implants, hair extensions, and new shoes, but it's never enough. The problem is that girls and women have been socialized to mistakenly conflate body esteem and self-esteem. Body esteem refers to how you think and feel about your physical appearance: your size, shape, hair, and features. Self-esteem refers to how you think and feel about your personality, your role in relationships, your accomplishments, and your values-everything that contributes to who you are as a person.

So far - so good.

The Woman in the Mirror goes beyond typical self-esteem books to dig deep into the origins of women's problems with body image. Psychologist Cynthia Bulik guides readers in the challenging task of disentangling self-esteem from body esteem, and taking charge of the insidious negative self-talk that started as early as when you first realized you didn't really look like a fairy princess. By reprogramming how we feel about ourselves and our bodies, we can practice healthy eating and sensible exercise, and focus on the many things we have to offer our family, community, and job. Bulik provides us the tools to reclaim our self-confidence and to respect and love who we are.

Wait - what was that?

By reprogramming how we feel about ourselves and our bodies, we can practice healthy eating and sensible exercise....              

Did anyone proof read this review?

So in the end - if you by this book - you too can be skinny and fit.

So much for disentangling our self-esteem from our body esteem.

Getting Over Married

Yesterday was my 34th wedding anniversary. I went to work. Took a nap. Went out for pizza with a friend and my granddaughter. Then came home and went to bed.
Beyond that - I obsessed over the idea that my husband, was blithely passing the day away with his new honey totally oblivious to the life he had thrown away.
Most of the day wasn't too bad. Interacting with customers kept my mind mostly off of the anniversary cards that I wanted to deface and send to him. The evening with my friend kept our conversation around local issues. And at first I was tired enough to sink into sleep, comfy under the quilt.
Then, after the initial exhaustion had worn away, came the tossing and turning. My daughters were out partying. With my blessing and encouragement at a charity event that I did not wish to attend. Loud music is not, and really has never been my thing. They are oblivious to the days significance, having long since moved beyond it.
Not me - oh no. I reviewed my wedding day, or rather that night. We spent our wedding night in my Aunt's camper van, on my parents lawn. We couldn't afford a honeymoon, and we needed to be around to do barn chores. We had planned our wedding to be between haying season and corn harvest. Weeks of rain had kind of messed that up,but our day turned sunny and nice, for our indoor/outdoor reception.
These years were supposed to be a return to our beginnings. A time when I could finally turn my attention back to my farm after retiring from an exhausting career that had turned completely sour. Instead, the rat bastard, stuck in the knife, twisted it and stood there smiling. Bitter? Yeah. I am.

There goes the Weekend

I was supposed to be in the Adirondacks by now. When the kids were little I'd have the gear all packed and the canoe tied to the top of the car or truck and we'd hit the road ASAP when work was done. We've even arrived at midnight and camped on shore, uncomfortable in the car, and paddled over in the morning.

Then things got complicated. Even as teenagers the girls had jobs which usually took over their weekends. Retail doesn't stop, so holiday weekends meant mandatory hours for the young staff. One daughter often worked in restaurants and they certainly don't close on summer holiday weekends.Then came grand-kids. Their schedule had to work in too, including getting Dad to give up one of his weekends.
Now one daughter doesn't want to go if all we are going to do is sit in the woods, so her daughter doesn't want to go if we're not going to the amusement park. An old story, but now that my daughter is an adult she can be adamant about it. So she and our car and my granddaughter have headed to NYC.

And me I'm heading off to work. Yeah. Crap.

Columbus Day - I'm outta here.

A tent by myself if need be. 

I'm gonna get out of the city and into the woods.

430 am cool and quiet

As the summer has waned and morning light has come later and later, so have I slept. This morning I woke early and so, fed the cat, made my coffee and walked the dog at 430. I'm so glad I did.
I've had several days of poor sleep due to the traffic outside my window. By the time the bar crowd finally makes its way home there are only a few good sleeping hours, except on every other Monday when the garbage trucks start early.
It was so nice out this morning. The air was cool and I made it all the way around the block before I heard my first car. From my porch, when it is quiet you can just hear the waterfall as background for the crickets and peepers. Since it is still dark now, the birds have not yet begun their song.
Soon one, and then another vehicle came by. The parking lot across the street is a meeting place for many contractors, so the diesel pickups are rampant. I don't know why, but those pickups are louder than dump trucks. Even a small car is disruptive, the squish of tires on the road and the rumble as the engine revs to bring the car up and over the knob at the intersection.
As the sound of the vehicle slowly recedes the song of the peepers emerges and you can hear the breeze and early morning rain on the leaves of the trees. By 530 the constant thrum of commuter traffic is enough to drive you inside. Even trying to have a phone conversation is impossible.
By 9 things have subsided a little. The neighborhood has emptied out and now it is generally delivery vehicles and buses. Still, the magic is lost. My brain takes on the hum of hubbub, and my pulse is up. No peace now until after midnight.

Down in CNY

I am incredibly depressed right now. I'm not sure exactly why, but the weather is likely to be a big part of it. As I have aged I have discovered that barometric pressure can really alter my moods.
There are a few social reasons for it also.
Last night a busload of people arrived at the bar across the street. These revelers were obviously already loaded and needed to go to a coffee shop, not somewhere to top it off with more booze. Of course it got loud. Since smokers bring their drinks out to the stoop to smoke and drink.
Sitting at my desk I became aware that one middle aged man had left the group and was accosting a group of young men. Apparently they had the temerity to try to walk across the parking lot on their way from the basketball court at the school, to their homes down the street.
One young man refused to be intimidated. He didn't holler back. He got on his phone and called his Mom. I went out in front of my house in case the intoxicated person got pushy. He was being energized by his friends up at the door to the bar. Finally he went back to them and I went up on my porch.
The young man waited in front of a neighbors house for his ride.
After a few minutes Mr. Intoxicated realized the kid was still there. He started yelling obscenities and I told him to watch his mouth. At that point my neighbor who was watching from her living room quietly said she had called the police.
Four squad cars showed up. By that time the young man's ride had come and gone, and the rowdiness was the upscale, drunken white folks from the bus tour. I'm not sure what came to pass but they were all asked to go inside since drinking on the sidewalk is technically not allowed.
Need I mention who was white and who was not? Who was from the neighborhood and who was probably former University grads who think they own the world because they can afford to rent a bus for a day of revelry? Yeah I didn't think so.

The other thing that has me pissed off is this stupid recurring post on Facebook, often all in caps.

Thank you Florida, Kentucky, and Missouri which are the first states that will require drug testing when applying for welfare. Some people are crying and calling this unconstitutional. How is this unconstitutional? It's OK to drug test people who work for their money but not those who don't?… Re-post this if you'd like to see this done in all 50 states and Canada!!!

or this one

F YOU CROSS THE N.KOREAN BORDER ILLEGALLY~YOU GET 12YRS HARD LABOR! IF YOU CROSS THE AFGHANISTAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU~GET SHOT! IF YOU CROSS THE.U.S.BORDER YOU GET~A JOB~A DRIVERS LICENSE~FOODSTAMPS~WELFARE~A PLACE TO LIVE~HEALTHCARE~HOUSN~CHILD BENEFITS~EDUCATION N TAX FREE BUSINESS FOR 7YRS. NO WONDER WERE A COUNTRY DROWNIN IN DEBT!! RE~POST IF THIS PISSES YOU OFF!! 

 

Yes, this post pisses me off. 

What is it with the war on poor? You must be a drug crazed, lazy assed criminal, and of course, if I'm wealthy it must be because GOD has shone his golden light of glory on me because I am such a wonderful person.

sheesh

What cost success?

What does it mean to be successful? From a biologist's point of view it means to live long enough to successfully reproduce. For a species it means having enough members successfully reproduce so that the species continues. Similarly for a tribe, or herd, it means to have enough members to continue.

I have a cousin who runs his own business. It's small. Often struggling. He could probably do better financially working retail. But he loves his work. He loves his work, he pays his bills, and he has enough for some of the fun things in life. Isn't that success?

Oh - and he makes the world a little better, happier

or more friendly - every day.

I understand his house is not up to par with what most folks think is necessary (never seen it for myself). Does that matter? If it's adequate for him and his spouse, isn't it a success?

When I retired from my high pressure job I made a choice to live well within my means. My basic needs can be covered by my small pension. I have a part time job which provides me with food, clothing, entertainment. In this economy I chose to work part time so that someone who had a family to care for could have the full time job I might otherwise take.

Am I not successful?

I met a man through my work who gave up working. He gave up the constant struggle and pressure of working and is happier for it. I hope to speak with him again. I'd like to know more. I think he meant he had enough to provide for himself, and so he stopped trying to scramble up that ladder we call success.

We keep hearing about the death of the middle class. Maybe we should let it die. Corporations have power over us because we are scrambling to achieve a certain level of living that we have been trained to believe is success. And it is never ending. As soon as we get that house in the good neighborhood, the SUV and the golf clubs, we see something else that we "need".

I recently read an article about Endicott Johnson, a CNY shoe factory. The owner felt that his workers should be well paid, have benefits and that he should contribute to the community. Interestingly the union was suspicious of this. The union felt these perks were intended to make the employee feel grateful and therefore indebted to the company.

I can tell you that a good job is its own shackle. If you hate the job, or the job becomes oppressive or abusive, it is difficult to leave because, where will you find another job that pays as well or has the same benefits.

Maybe we would be better off, emotionally and socially if we simply called their bluff. What if we were content with what our grandparents or great grandparents had. Do we really need more than a sturdy roof over our heads, a warm bed and a chair to sit in, enough food to keep us healthy, and the proverbial pot to piss in?

If we let go of the race, stop running the treadmill, "the man" won't be able to Lord it over us anymore. Instead of going with our plate in our hand and begging for more bread, he'll have to come to us and say "mow my lawn, polish my silver, please". And if we aren't stressing over that next car payment or getting the new xyz phone, we can think about it, consider it, and say yes - or no - depending on our needs or wants.

Certainly our clamoring for the good life has been detrimental in the long run. The quest for stuff has left us with huge garbage piles, chemical waste leaching into our water, traffic and bad air, and less time than we'd like with our family. The stress itself is killing us, and sending us stumbling after the pied piper of big pharma, big food etc.

As I made dinner last night my family eschewed the TV for the front porch. My granddaughter rode her scooter around the block and entertained some passing friends. Neighbors out walking their dogs stopped for a chat. And my daughter was able to squelch a particularly dangerous form of entertainment some youngsters have been subjecting the neighborhood to.

Seems like that is a better life than the one found in front of a 60" TV with surround sound.