Checking out for a bit...

Epochal news! Olympia! I am taking a short break!

After several years of taking time off work for Doctor appointments - not mine and time out for "needed" errands, I am finally taking some time of my very own to go under the knife in a very ordinary non-bombastical procedure.  However ordinary, this medical event taking place tomorrow has afforded me a few solid days of a disconnect; no words nor texts.   I look forward to the fluid rhythms and the oozng vibrations of a veritable Juno of peace.  I will practice the sport of mouth breathing while lying on my back.

Out of these things and many more, I will practice the spectator sport of cinema verite;  some of my own video indulgences and some borrowed for just this occasion.  I have an ample supply of reading materials to toy with and will happily choke down some healing chicken soup et cafe au lait. 

If I become too disengaged, I  may even accept the challenge of uncovering the answer to one of the greatest questions of all time:  Why has Tarzan  captured several generations in print, cinema and remakes? Will keep you posted if I actually find an answer. 

Strictly speaking, tomorrow after its all over, I am staging an appointment with myself in one of many lounging devices in our home designed strictly for the purpose of vegetation. 

This is it.  I am checking out for a bit and will leave behind a whimsical icon I once used in the past at another occasion for disconnect.  The last time  I put out this shingle I was on an American safari to North Carolina in a race to secure a plane; a joint venture that traversed two continents! But, that is a story for another day. 

Laters!



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821-4621

821-4621. Life was so much easier then. My house phone number had just the right amount of digits;  no prefix, no suffix...just a cord, a dial that rat-tat-rattled when you spun the wheel and probably the most obnoxious ring ever emitted; alarming. Yes, indeed, the world was an easier place then and the memory of it and my family still make me smile. Circa 1965.

On days that I stayed home from school because of some form of elementary school malady, I would get spoiled by my grandparents.     They had an amazing and healing bedside routine. 

 (They were funny; funny, humorous.  They argued passionately about groceries and electricity and soup, but they were inseparable and they were a perfect example of  how to love completely even if you don't always agree.)  In any event, on days that I stayed home, I would  stay  in one of three air conditioned bedrooms.  Back in the day, central air was not the status quo.  Typical Florida homes would come equipped with terrazzo floors that would keep the house cool and jallosie windows that let in the fresh Florida breeze and the smell of green, crisp smelling rain, as well as, the tempestuous heat and  humidity.  Still always in the end, whenever I found myself convalescing, I got the coolest room in the house.  This was my Ritz.  I was the center of the universe and all the planets aligned and surrounded me like a cozy bubble.

It was predictable. Every illness would begin with a phone call to my grandparents from any family member, asking, ¿Cómo esta la niña ?  and would later end with 'le voy a dar un Cafe con leche'; the healing staple of all remedies! Then I would be served, my idea, a ham and cheese not toasted sandwich, a bag of Frito's Corn chips avec a Tylenol or something like it. The last call of the day would be something like, "Todo esta muy bien. Se lo tomo todo."  I was never one to turn away comfort food - I still don't.


I would spend the day propped up between countless fuzzy pillows, a variety of dolls for company and a compact 5X7, pink flowered diary with inside pockets  that had a pretty matching pen attached to the side; all of these helped me navigate all illnesses.  

In addition to all the goodness showered upon me, I watched episodes of 'I Love Lucy', 'Voyage to the bottom of the Sea', 'McHale's Navy' or 'Hogan's Heroes'.  No reason to hurry back to school... I loved staying home.

Even better, this time in my life represented a time of grace whereby all my family members were alive and full of verve; we noisily gathered on weekends and holidays; always around giant ( I really mean giant) pots of grandma's Cuban/ Iberian home cooking.  

*Grandfather was a Spanish immigrant and Grandma loved to feed him his favorites from his native "Aviles." It never failed, after every meal she would heartily accuse us collectively of not having eaten enough;  She always made too much to eat and everyone went home with a doggie bag.

At my place, all the cousins and friends (friends: I still consider to be extended family today, e.g. Betty and Annie) played countless hours under the old mango tree strictly because in those days children were seen and not heard. I didn't care, as an only child the geography of our play date just didn't matter. Best thing they could have done; we loved playing outside. A lack of vitamin D was never an issue and every visit provided us a new adventure; always deciding as to what would serve as our  newest protagonist in our backyard worlds like  moths, lizards and dirt. There were sleep overs and cook outs; Grandma's croquetta factory was always churning out a batch for everyone; one batch in the grandma conversion table was equivalent to 100 croquettas. She would pack them neatly into over-sized shirt boxes that she would get, for free, from Jackson.Byrons. The house smelled of family and familiar food.

The world was smaller then, but the love felt really really big.

Back Row left to right: My Dad Raul; Tio Pepe; Tia Estela; Tio Manolo
Bottom left to right: Mom and I; Abuelo; Cousin Jose; Abuela; Tia Nidia; Cousin Ily
Cousin Lourdes came into the world the following year

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Things that go bump

Rule of thumb:  (a term used not intended to be accurate for every situation).  The rule of thumb for things that go bump in the night are: before bedding down each night it is good practice to check under the bed for monsters, in the closet for the Boogie Man and leave a little $1.99 night lite plugged into the wall to keep any creepy crawley creatures from coming out of hiding for a midnight snack.  At least, that was my enbedded belief and there were no certain rules about things that go bump in the day.

On most days, the after work ritual begins in the kitchen minutes after putting down the contents of the daily train travel gear on the dining room table.  On other days, a lethargic breeze arrives at the same time I do and I have to take a nap. There I was, last Wednesday, drifting into some shut eye while listening to an Eddy Murphy dialogue from "Trading Places."  I can't remember the last time I saw this movie, but this time it I only half listened while I gazed very still into the back of my eyelids.

After dinner, Mom decided our dog, Sonata, should go for a walk.  She placed the bedazzled collar and leash on her and she headed into the house with dog, collar and leash in hand to deliver to me so I could go the rest of the way around the block. "Ana, ve con Sonata a dar una vuelta a la manzana." Mom ordered.  We, Cubans, affectionately call going around the block as, "la vuelta a la manzana." 'La vuelta' means 'go around' and 'la manzana' means 'the apple'.  I suspect, planned communities in Cuba must have been apple shaped in order for this term to be coined, but that is a story for another day.   

Buzz...the door bell rings.  I find this to be the most annoying sound, especially a week night and after dinner when all is calm and all is bright in the peaceful privacy of an evening at home alone with the family - the family that sleeps under our roof that is.  Note: also common in tribal homes like ours; people who do not sleep under our roof spend endless hours under our roof daily.  This had to be said. 

As I looked out the window,  I saw four tall people; two couples to be exact.  I did not recognize them, but I opened the door just the same.  If you live in Hialeah, the other rule of thumb is that you have the option to fore go the opening of a door, just proceed to dial 911.  I should have done the latter.

I gathered my strength and decided to face the conversation. This is where the evening became as bitter as a gin and tonic could get.

Stranger number one: " Ola.  Somos Fulano and Fulana y amigos. We are here because your cousin said to meet her at your place since they did not have enough room to have the get-together at theirs."

Me: "Um, Ola...ahhh...You are kidding, right?  I had no idea."

Stranger number two: "No, her place was full and we couldn't even park our car."

Me: " I am terribly sorry, but you need to make other plans.  I am not up for hosting another's reunion.  You will need to make other arrangements. I can't. I - I didn't know anything."

Stranger number one: under his breath, "Guagh. Not very hospitable." "What do we do?" He says to strangers two, three and four.

Stranger number three to Stranger number four: "We will wait for the others. Here."

Me: "Here? Others? What others? Others?"

Stranger number one: "She told the rest of the group to come here as well."

At that very moment, before uttering an audible sound since my vocabulary had just deteriorated into a gargle, a car pulled up with a load of my cousins entourage - a movable party wagon.  I was beyond horrified. 

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse,  Sonata released herself from her bedazzled collar and bejewelled leash and charged for the bushes after the neighbor's inopportune cat.  I ran after her in a frenzy while watching my front lawn overflow with cars and solo cups- naturally. 

No sooner did I have Sonata plugged back into her be-clumsy collar, I realized that some of the "guests" had slipped into the house and had planted themselves inside my living space.  How was I to explain this to my family? My husband was going to blow a flammable Iberian fuse! How do I stop the insanity? My neighbors? Why does my family do these things? ...All of these ramblings and more raced through my curdling, blood boiling cells...

I ran inside and locked the door.  I frenetically and not very gracefully started shouting, "Out! You need to leave! Out! Fuera!" I started plucking people out of the family room and living room while single filing them out the door.  What anguish and what relief!

I walked over to my master bedroom to find three elderly ladies going thru my drawers.  I saw RED.  I lightly searched them over when I saw they were helping themselves to some baubles from my jewelry box.  How is this possible? I couldn't help myself and led them abrasively through the hallway and to the front door.  SLAM! As I closed the door, I heard someone outside asking about the food service.  You know, "Where do we order some grub?"I can't imagine where we would have ended up that night had I not taken my blood pressure medicine that morning.  Well, maybe I can.

As I saw the last person out, I told my son to call the police (911) because the ho-down was still happening on  my formerly manicured and newly trashed front lawn.  It was a scene out Dante's inferno.  My heart was beating out of control.  I was certain I was going to have a heart attack.  I was even dizzy.  I slowly turned my head to compose myself when I realized that the room was dark. I had been asleep all along. It was so real; a nightmare.   Eddy Murphy's chaotic back drop must have creeped into my silent space and stimulated my lethargy. Hmm, I must have sleepwalked feet-first into the scene which Murphy invites all of his  homie barflies back to his new luxe condo and later kicks the very same out for smashing his new place to bits.  

A half hour passed and my heart rate was still doing a bongo beat instead of pleasant pulse.  I have invested in brighter night lites and plan to keep Eddy Murphy out of my room. Sometimes things that go bump in the night are brought on by things that go grind in the day. 

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Expect the Best!

Starting Over: 

By the time you first realize that you need to start a weight loss program, you have no doubt, already waged war with  the 'mirror, mirror on the wall.' Instantly, you feel an immediate rush of boom-boom- pow! Not only do we become agitated, anxious and feel a burn that festers inside your newly discovered pot belly, but the experience takes on a life of its own; as urgent as an appendectomy.  All the time wasted packing on unnoticed pounds is forgotten and discarded somewhere in mental file drawer number 10 located near the unopened orange wrapper of Reeces Pieces and the chalk it up to food under the damn bucket. 

Unlike other times in my weight-less past, I am not the protagonist on this road to a leaner and keener way of life, I am simply the wingman. This one is for "my little".   The wingman according to our global Urban dictionary is described as follows :wingman: orig. e.g. US Air Force n. A pilot whose plane is positioned behind and outside the leader in a formation of flying aircraft.  In essence, I am the 'I have got your back guy!'

Getting Help: 

The Dream team is in place, research over and commitments finalized.  This next phase I happily navigate to the tunes of a litany of country music ballads that I have newly discovered.  

L.A.. Fitness  has provided, Daniel. Yes, our very own, "Daniel Boone" conqueror of all frontiers.  Win!!! 


Dr. Dolittle's place has gifted us with a modern day wellness coach named, "J.C." good karma and all. No, No, Great karma! Can't go wrong with J.C.  Win x 2!! 


I have spent the last week animated, optimisitc and engaged in putting all these fat free piggies in a row...on the road we go...

 In order to begin the good nutrition/ wellness coaching  end of our venture, it was necessary to shore up some Doctor details.  Naturally, wanting to quickly comply, coupled with all that good holistic energy com-busting spirit harnessed under our humble Hialeah roof, I took the day off from work to get it all done. 

1. Doctor: Check

2. Medical Clearance letter from Pediatrician: Check

3. Schedule Labs for Saturday: Check

4. Requirements: completed.  Approved.

...On a country pick up high, indeed!

Next phase: 

On your mark get set...stop?... Wait! Just Wait! No, Really? 

As in any best laid plans there are always a few hiccups; for me, it was more like indigestion.  Yesterday, was just that kind of day. We immediately delivered all of the task related results to Dr. Dolittles' place: Screeeech! Catapulting Halt! 
We hit the Dr. 'Do"little" wall.  


In spite of our best efforts to complete our part, we came face to face with an unbending resident of Mount Olympus; a no getting around myopic and cold as marble opposition.  Much like the country hit , namely, "You Were Only A Splinter As I Slid Down The Bannister Of Life." And, that is all I will say about that.  Program start date t.b.a.  Thanks. We got over it.

A New Beginning - in two weeks: 

The good news is that  we are on our way! Two weeks should pass soon enough! Well, for "my little" it will pass like a kidney stone, but in any event, we have J.C. to look forward to - "knee deep" in good advice and positive energy. Expect the Best!

I am actually a perfect size 10; I just keep it covered with fat so that it doesn't get scratched.  - Barbara Johnson (from Sheila Walsh's book - "I'm not a wonder woman but God made me wonderful')...
http://www.amazon.com/Im-Not-Wonder-Woman-Wonderful/dp/0785262938 ...this too shall pass...

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Write your memoirs in only six words...

I did the unthinkable. Standing at the checkout counter at my favorite local "we sell everything" market, I picked up a magazine and I began to read.  I had little intention to toss a $4.50 magazine into my grocery cart.  I was sadly in the midst of fracturing one of my very own golden rules.  Reading a magazine without buying it is up there with pirating music and videos, white lies and sins of omission.  A faux pas to be sure! 

Snap - I saw it: Word Art! The cover of "O's" February issue beckoned to me like a snake to a Burmese snake charmer. Lucky as a shiny penny, I was, I was. The lady ahead of me was trying to make a WIC purchase and had picked out all the wrong items.  She proceeded to march in and out of the aisles exchanging one brand for another.  The folks behind me were hissing like that very  same aforementioned  Burmese cobra.  Any other day, I would have been doing the WIC jig, but there I was completely captivated; Express Yourself.

Inspired by Larry Smith's Challenge in the Smith Magazine, Ashley Williams, Senior Editor to the Oprah Magazine, gave birth to a brilliant article: "You...in Six Words."  

 Dana Tanamachi, http://www.danatanamachi.com/, added Chalk art to bring the message to life. I was having the best time while WIC lady did the grocery shuffle.  

My top faves are: 

Fat. Thin. Fat. Thin. Fat. Thin.

I have time to fix this.

Still fit into high school earrings.

Every twenty years, I reinvent myself.

Sorry I'm not married yet, Mom.

*Might as well eat that cookie

Paula Deen.  

(Paula may be rethinking this one since she was recently diagnosed with some form of Diabetes.)  Her new memoir may read: 

Cookie jars for sale. Contact Paula.

I knew my six word memoir immediately as I have been saying the very same six words since I could speak:

Ana:  always

same  forwards

and backwards.

 I bought the magazine, after all.  For more memoirs see: oprah.com/memoirs or share more memoirs at smithmag.net. What are your six words?

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I am taking them with me!

January 19 - It is quiet here - sitting in the waiting room at my Doctor's office and I have had sufficient wait time to nurse the terms of my departure from this earth hopefully at a later date. This is the kind of thing you think about two weeks before any surgery.  In brief, most of the planning is muddy at this point, but of this I am clear, there are two things that I am taking with me.  

Last Will and Testament

I, Ana Place Ordinary, now residing amongst the living, declare this instrument to be my Will, hereby revoking all prior wills and codicils.

Article I:  DEBTS AND ADMINISTRATION AND FUNERAL EXPENSES.  I direct my Personal Representative to pay all my unsecured enforceable debts, my funeral expenses, the expenses of my last illness, and the administration expenses of my estate.  Poor soul, not sure who will get this headache, but they must have earned it in life or not.

Article II:  RESIDENTIAL PROPERTY.   I give all of my residential property to -  Drum-roll, please! This is tough! I am leaving this one wide open for the vast possibilities. Given the economy, I may be left holding a brown paper bag with an extra change of clothes. 

Article III:  TANGIBLE PERSONAL PROPERTY.  A.  INCORPORATION OF SEPARATE LIST.  I give specific items of my tangible personal property to the persons I have designated to receive them in any written statement signed by me either before or after the date of this Will - provided I have anything at the end of my days...open ended

B.  BALANCE OF TANGIBLE PERSONAL PROPERTY.  - N/A 

Accompanied by a price tag befitting to the name and brand are my Valentino's.  I may not arrive to the pearly gates with them on, but I assure you I will leave this planet  harnessed to them! These fine peeps were the signature purchase for my daughter's wedding and as of that day where I go they go!  

 Valentino Nappa Couture Bow Pump

Many years ago, my husband traveled back to his country on one of his many trips to his mecca.  The next day looking over some papers he left behind I found this note.  

 To date, where I go it goes.    

Valentino's: $XXX.XX. 

 Note: Priceless.

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Ain't no sunshine when she's gone - a day without Wiki

Saved by the Wikipedia black out! In my quest to exercise my literary acumen at least once a day, I was going to compare and contrast life in general to my umbrellas! Not!  I have a change of heart due to the fact that I have arisen today with a belly full of greek fire and artillery punch! 

LA Fitness once more.  Yesterday, Mr B., full of his customary enthusiasm took the first step in revitalizing his spirit and his body at our new adoptive recreational center, alone. Better said, without me at his side. (Truth be told, this was our first mistake.) He was greeted by a confident crackerjack (Also found in: Wikipedia) training salesmen for his first conditioning.  

As I understand the account after an endless amount of palaver, the pitchman-sales-trainer says, "I will have you up and about in two months- you are going to walk (with emphasis)!" Suppose we link arms and mindlessly venture into the elliptical together... However, optimistic of Mr. Kettle-bell man, the last time someone chided that out Mr. B came home with a stress fracture and then some.

I have soon become a high voltage protagonist when it comes to leg-ocities; four doctors, two surgeries and six plus therapy centers later...I beg you, please reserve the tall tales for someone more talented than I.  My serenity was short lived and an extra dash of an unforeseen dust bunny has upset the program.  

Note to LA: 

Diagnosis: Femoral nerve damage to leg.

F.Y.I.: Nerves regenerate a hair's length every month and we are now entering year three.  WE kind of know the drill.

I have nervously and aggressively comprised a list of do's and don't for the LA protoplasms: 

1. Mr. B cannot do stretches on ground level nor can he kneel...just can't do it...and when he says he can't - don't insist.

2. Weight bearing exercises: NO weights, just repetitions...just can't do it...and when he says he can't - don't insist. 

3. No rushing, the man knows what he can or can't do; simply monitor and make sure he is stable and following good form...just can't do it...and when he says he can't - don't insist.

4. Speak as little as possible; so far there have been too many words and they just don't make for good sentences..don't do it...its just better that way - s'il vous plaît,, j'insiste!

By the end of the day I will be pitchforking myself to see Hans the head trainer, no relation to Conan the Barbarian, but I submit, close in stature and gray matter and give him some pointers.  Something to look forward to.  Enjoy the black out and see you tomorrow, Wiki!

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I Can't have the Toy Until I Get Rid of the Nuggets!

The fingers of fog drifted over me last night and  when I opened my eyes I realized I have been a gym rat my entire life.  My nutrition trail has been paved with the stones of sweat since I was in my teens.  

Indeed, I do not have the chiseled silhouette of my dreams, but my very own Dr. Dreamy "the" cardiologist, blue eyes and all,  from Mount Zion blessed me and sent me packing for another year with a clean bill of heart health. I guess all of those years running, jumping and cycling have paid off.  Note: personal best was never very impressive to anyone but myself. 

Yesterday was family field trip day; we left home empty handed and returned to 714 with a new bundle of joy; a family membership to LA Fitness.  Each one of us clearly had a vision that cried out for attention; Tony wants to walk, Armando needs the cardio and I need to be fit enough to take on the 150,000 projects that are colliding under my thick skull and screaming to come to life.  Now what?

The plan.  Inspired by a very poorly delivered episode of "Wife Swap" it came to me.  In case you are not familiar: "Wife Swap" is a reality show where two families, usually from different social classes and lifestyles, swap wives/mothers – and sometimes husbands – for two weeks.

  e.g:  http://youtu.be/9m8BC8NGHJI

Oh, enlightenment! In yesterday's episode Mom number one would deal with all family issues by answering, "No Problem" to any requests and or problems because she wanted to maintain a constant Nirvanic cloud floating mist-fully in her home.  The family theme revolved around fun.  Consequently, five out of six adults in the home did not report to a job except for the patriarch of the family. The group enjoyed the art of video gaming all day, sometimes fishing and spent money without much discernment.

On the other hand, Mom number two, would vehemently, hands down, address her  family's needs  by saying, "No Way" because discipline and duties were by far the diamond standard to life's goals.  She created tools for the family like charts and reward tokens to encourage good behavior and discourage the bad; Pavlovian theory at its best.

Back to the plan: I am going to need a chart.  Give me a chart!  Now that we have a family partnership, in fitness, we need to coordinate our schedules so that we can all benefit from this investment in our health; together.  I choose "Wife Swap's" Uber Mom number two's plan for direction. I have adopted her tokens, tags, bells and whistles..on our marks, get ready and and go.

The party starts today!

One last clarification, this is not a 'B" Family New Years resolution, this is what I have personally declared as a three month challenge to redefine and improve our lives and health wealth...

...the treasure is at the end of the rainbow, take me home to Kansas and we can't have the toy until all the nuggets are gone! 

Wish us luck!

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A one act tragedy in 'K"

This is a story about what I agitatedly call the Big 'C', that quickly deteriorated into the Big 'K.' - 'K" for Kardashian.  At some point after 9 p.m. last Friday, I discovered that I was coming down with some type of conventional Miami malaise; hard and fast.  The timing on this could not be worse since I am destined for female fixation  surgery in two weeks.  Immediate action was taken.  I have my personal theory on this bloody beast of burden: rest, chicken soup and the remedial "cafe con leche con tiee-le-nol!"

Like any local familiar with Floridian flora and fauna discomforts, you know how it goes...you just have to rise above it either by hitting the Vitamin C trail, echanazia or some A thru Z bomb that sells over the counter. 

This story takes a turn for the worst.  Saturday morning, with nobody pointing a gun at my head, I tuned into my friendly cable channel to "Khloe and Kourtney take New York or is it Kim and Kourtney?" Hmm, I am still in a daze of K!  I did it; I fell into the slippery dash slope of the Kardashian-like Valley! Like, it was serious...'

s"Faugh!"  The Big 'C" inadvertently turned into the The Big 'K."  There are no concise or felicitous words to describe the hours that followed.  At the end of the day, I was only left with this question: "What ?"... I have discovered that I may have to recover the little grey matter unaffected by my sebaceous sinus condition.  I may not reconnect in a long while with any academic circles, if discovered, as I would be labelled a "feulletoniste" inferring that I am a writer with few leaves. I am certain I lost something along the way.  I acquiesced to Kris Kardashian's  media feed; like  painted lips on a polished 'K' Promotional Poster,  I was weightless and helpless to change the channel.  There I was, devoid of espirit de corps and so I watched with a curious sinus stare.

Out of these things and many more, It  will suffice to say that in the non-glam world good taste forbids any excessive displays; the Big 'K" modus vivendi is unnatural to us regular folk and that is why we watch and can someone tell me how they can walk on those fashion stilts?  Rush hour clearly does not apply to them...no rushing in those puppies.  Them-there high heals are collectively a workers  comp nightmare to any employer.  If they had any type of office job the pink slip would be inevitable.  With all that said, I found them entertaining and they somehow got me through two horizontal days of jammies, tissues and a truly non glamoured image. The ladies are the true "It" girls and their wing men are just that. Kudos to the entire global  business...The 'K's" have it; they offered up some great bed side healing.

http://khloekardashian.celebuzz.com/

I, in turn, am feeling much better.  I have not only released The Big 'C', but I am done with The Big 'K"...for now.

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La pacotille - cheap piece of junk.

What is New and Improved?
Certainly not my phone skills.  First, I am officially apologizing to all who have been a captive victim to my old phone, the 'BB'.  I typically toss the little orange fellow into my purse and he would automatically snuggle up against some bauble and dial out.  If you were lucky, you would get a 'Y' call or   sometimes the 'A's' would have it.  All of my  peeps   have been nailed at least once.  I finally said good bye to "la pacotille"
Good riddance.

Yes, I have arrived at the age of Aquarius! Ana has a new phone thing!  No reason to get too excited, I have not upgraded to the latest and greatest just the later and greater than I had.  However, I have now inherited a whole new set of issues.  As obsessed as I am about all things grammatical  and spelling, my fingers seem to touch all the wrong letters and numbers e.g.: instead of writing 'good morning', my greeting translates into 'Food Moran'. The language corrector is another inhibitor as I tend to write in different languages and words like 'fuego' become "Diego."  Mendacity, I say! This time around I feel obligated to deliver apologetic prose to everyone that is exposed to my learning curve.  Those of you concerned for me, please know that if you receive a ridiculous message from me; its not the consequence of a a second round of wine or a frenzied night of drunk dialing or texting.  Let's chalk this one up to poor digit-eye coordination. I am certain I will master this gadget in time for another upgrade and the saga will continue. Should you wish to join me in this struggle; please feel free to contact me in a weeks time and I will give you more information in my new support group for the digitally challenged or a new venture called "Digitalis Anonymous."

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Pew Pain!

It has taken me one night and one day to recover from Confirmation fever.  It was truly an event to mark as "Favorite" in my life events database.  Yes, all Eucharistic celebrations are special and each carries a significant message and feeling depending on the season and the reason.  

Giant community masses, however,  are unsettling for me personally.  More times than not they are a testament to the lease favorable of behaviors.  It jump starts in the parking lot; biggest and fastest car wins.  The reward is lotto-like with the prize being the closest and most strategic spot.  My favorite of the two maladies is the latter because I am more than accustomed to parking wars and terrible drivers since Miami and it's surrounding areas are rated worst in the country.

That's my kind of  town!

Okay, let's visit the proprietary of pews.  

A harmless word (with a big bite): pew [pyoo] noun 

1.(in a church) one of a number of fixed, bench like seats with backs, accessible by aisles, for the use of the congregation.  So far, I understand.  Seats with backs to be shared by a congregation. 

Affirmative; good so far.

2.an enclosed seat in a church, or an enclosure with seats, usually reserved for a family or other group of worshipers.  

Warning! Here  is where we start sinking into the deep murky waters of "pyoo" despair.  The word "reserved" infers that the occupying party has a right to defend a seating position. I am now confused. Yes, possession is nine tenths of the law.  You arrive, you sit and that is your spot. Possessed. Okay, it's yours. Defend a position or row? What are we in church or on the football field? Another possibility: could it be that the bench was a purchase and thereby now sports a tidy bronze plaque with a familial name on it earmarked for a family of 12? Probably not, but all of these add up to pew pain.

Unfortunately, pew wars happen in community masses, simply stated, because you cannot fit two pounds of bologna in a one pound bag. Final result: poor and pitiful pew behavior. The passive aggressive rises to the surface, the shining moment becomes dim and the mood is altered from happy blue to a dark grey...just like my long forgotten mood ring.  I don't know of anyone that didn't own one; but that is a story for another day. In any event, the message of the celebration can easily be missed.  This pitiful pew epidemic can only be rivaled  by black Friday at a Wal-Mart.

3.those occupying pews; congregation

I will hang onto definition number 3.  Pews are to be occupied by any and the many, not saved,  not hoarded and not battled.  You get there you sit, when the next guy arrives he or she sits. Problem solved. Seems simple, right?   

The good news is all family sacraments, to date, are done.  I leave the puny  pew-ness to the next guy and I will park far and away from the maddening crowds.    

See you...on a pew! 

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Check!

And, why should today be any different or should I rephrase: the night? I have been up since four a.m., my usual bewitching hour.  My eyes are lit like a Fresnel Lens on steroids that guides ships into safe harbor.

It's all good because today is different.  This time tomorrow, Armando will have been confirmed; Archbishop Wenski et al.  Years of preparation and good ole fashioned roll up your sleeves hard work will have paid off.  And, not just paid off, but I get to place another bold stinky red magic marker checkmark on the family sacramental to-do list.

Todays' order of business will include: artificially removing dark circles from under the eyes, hair-a-washin and all that comes with that and a big cup of tea sprinkled with cream of peace.  
*Note to self: pack tissues and don't wear any eye candy.

Last order of business: pin my dragonfly to my dress and enjoy the blessing!

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I passed it on.

It’s finally over! I passed it on; an act of kindness, that is: to myself. 

Over the past holidays, I unconsciously, deliberately, decidedly, and inadvertently attempted to spare myself the whole jump in the car to the Okeechobee station; run to the platform; change trains at Government Center; navigate to the Bayfront Park station; walk across the street and elevate myself 47 floors to my office; truly a mission.  I  get tired just describing it. 

Over time, I had diplomatically convinced myself that I preferred this routine to driving. I am clear that I really enjoy me-time in the car on the way to the day.  I am pleased as petrol that I gave myself this gift, if only for a short time. Yes, it's over. I am back on track riding the trains.  It was inevitable.  I am officially a modern day, train jumping hobo, pouch and all.  Yes, pouch and all.  In case you are not a user, the majority of commuters sport at minimum two carry on bags and a pair of sneakers which are conveniently switched out once a destination is reached.  Let us not forget the auxiliary rain gear and lunch box.

The sweet mornings of sliding into first gear and riding into the city to the tunes of “a red solo cup, ”Deep blue need you eyes,’ and “You'll be my sunny day; I'll be your shady tree; You'll be my honey suckle; I'll be your honey bee” are pretty much over. 

Hello again cruel world.  Peace off! 

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The Rules rule! Go I.C!

This is a big red letter week at our house in many ways! As Catholics, Red is the color of fire and so symbolizes the presence of God. It is the liturgical color for Pentecost.  It is considered the color of the Church, since red can also symbolize the blood of martyrs. It is sometimes used for Maundy Thursday and during Easter-tide. In Roman Catholic tradition it is used for Palm Sunday in anticipation of the death of Jesus. In some traditions it is used to commemorate special days for martyrs or saints, or for the ordination of priests/ministers. 

http://www.crivoice.org/symbols/colorsmeaning.html

Red, is for the Holy Spirit, Red is the Confirmation robe, Red is the "X" on my calendar and red is for the color of my ears when my blood pressure rises due to all the "reds" in my life.  I am very satisfied... ah, yes, my son, Armando, the new "Antonio" is being confirmed. One more Antonio in our midst.  I suggested awhile back that perhaps one day a week we could all change our name to Armando but, he rejected the idea, so now he too is an Antonio. Antonio number eight arriveth; all under one roof! 

As I have been following his trot to the canons, I realized these very same dictum's that he will confirm on Wednesday are but a simple template I mostly try to live by and comfortably wear like an old and worn  fuzzy sweater; maybe because I am kind of old and worn these days too.  I have listed some tips of our practices and find them to be simply stated in the following.  I submit, they should be a formula for the many; not just the newly divinely conferred.

Tips for kids:
    Things to remember when visiting God's house:
   * The Church is a sacred place. Always show respect for God and the church.
   * Always genuflect to the Tabernacle.  Jesus is present
   * Do not talk during Holy Mass.
   * Do not bring games or toys to Church.
   * Try to go to the restroom before Church. If you must go, leave by
      the back door and be as quiet as possible.
   * Do not stand on the seats or put your feet on the back of the pew in front of you.
   * Take your bulletin and other papers with you when you leave..
   * Always walk in the Church.
   * Do not eat food or candy, chew gum or take anything to drink into the Church.
   * Take good care of church property and buildings.
   * Be kind to other people.
   * Be a good listener.

An Examination of Conscience

by Fr. Edward Filardi

 I am the Lord your God. You shall not have strange gods before me.
Do I give time every day to God in prayer?
Do I put my trust in superstitions, good luck charms, rather than God alone?
Have I rejected any Church teaching or denied that I was a Catholic?

II. You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
Have I used the words "God" or "Jesus" in anger or irreverently?
Have I used foul or ugly language? Have I wished evil on another?

III. Remember to keep holy the Lord's day.
Have I missed Mass on Sunday or any holy day of obligation?
Do I arrive at church late or leave early?
Do I try to be reverent and pay attention during Mass?
Do I avoid unnecessary work on Sunday?
Do I make Sunday a day of prayer or rest?

IV. Honor your father and your mother.
Do I respect and obey my parents?
Have I dishonored or mistreated them by word or deed?
Am I willing to help around the house or must I be nagged a hundred times?
Do I try to get along with my brothers and sisters?
Am I a tattletale or bully?
Do I give a good example, especially to younger siblings?
Do I respect others in authority: priests, nuns, police, old people, baby-sitters?

V. You shall not kill.
Do I beat up others or hurt their bodies?
Do I say cruel things, or make fun of others to hurt their feelings?
Do I say mean things about others behind their backs?
Have I stopped speaking to anyone?
Do I encourage others to do bad things?
Do I try to love all people, born and unborn?

VI. You shall not commit adultery.
Do I treat my body and other people's bodies with purity and respect?
Do I look at television shows, movies, or pictures that are bad?
Am I modest in my speech and the clothes I wear?

VII. You shall not steal.
Have I taken things that were not mine from a store or another person?
Have I destroyed or misused another person's property for fun?
Do I return things that I borrow? In good condition?

VIII. You shall not commit false witness against your neighbor.
Am I honest in my school work?
Do I tell lies to make myself look good?
Do I tell lies to protect myself from punishment?
Do I tell lies that make another person look bad or get them in trouble?

IX. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife.
Do I allow my parents to spend time with one another, or do I get jealous and want them to pay attention only to me?
Do I get mad when I have to share my friends?
Are there kids I will not play with or be mean to because they look different?

X. You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.
Am I jealous or envious of the things or abilities that others have?
Am I thankful to God and my parents for what they have given me?
Do I share the things I have with my family, friends and poor people

I don't know, but it seems like most of these can be a good fit. I personally admit to vacillate on some points and fail to comply, but I am human and I like that about myself.  It's okay, I am a work in progress...still.

Wednesday will be a stellar day for an amazing group of young men and women and I am proud to have watched them grow up and am humbled to be in their company.  I am grateful to the Clergy, the administrators, the teachers and faith community that have brought them to this moment.  Note to self: remember to ask to be blessed after mass so I can get a piece of their new Spirit! Happy Confirmation to Immaculate Conception's 7th Graders! 

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After the three wise men came three great meals...

Epiphanies can arrive in the form of a celebration, an idea, different shapes and endless colors.   Traditionally, Epiphany or El Dia de los Tres Reyes, the twelfth day after Christmas celebrates the visit of the three kings or wise men to the Christ Child, signifying the extension of salvation to the Gentiles.  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/01/04/epiphany-2012-dates-customs-history-explained_n_1183892.html 

January 6th, 2012, began as it does every year with attention to Mass and celebratory chachkies for the littlest members of the family. I, in turn, found this year to be an unforeseen surprise and experienced what seemed to have been a move-able culinary feast; one meal following another.  Lunch at "Cafe Bastille, 248 SE 1st St, Miami" was the launch to a palatable cool and tasty shrimp Ceviche juxtaposed with cilantro, cucumber, and avocado a-top a layer of a sultry vinaigrette sauce. Awe, and I didn't mention a Roasted Red Pepper Soup appetizer with a dollop of blue cheese;  I thought I had died and landed in a Food Channel heaven.   Thank you, Cafe Bastille! 

Shrimp Ceviche from Cafe Bastille

Hours passed and the work day ended; I routinely made my every day way home to find as I entered my front door the most amazing aroma that seemed to marry garlic, pancetta, rosemary and tomatoes. Two for two! A mad dash of excitement traveled through my entire essence as I tumbled to the kitchen. You see, meal time at our homestead has become more than a ritual meal around our table. It is more like a food network challenge and more.  It is also the theater for daily events, discussion, drama, passion, arguments and attempts at resolving impossible world problems and a pinch of laughter and maybe even some friendly gossip.  The second meal of the day had all the makings of a scene from "Julia and Julia" 

http://www.sonypictures.com/homevideo/julieandjulia/

...and more; far more than I expected and a wonderful way to spend my favorite evening of the week: Friday! 

Pasta, garlic, pancetta and tomatoes by Tony

"Its Complicated" Chicken

The last meal following the arrival of our Three Wise Visitors was my very own creation.  After watching, "Its Complicated"  for what seemed to be the 25th time, I decided to make "Jake's" favorite Baked Chicken   with Rice Pilaf and Cornbread stuffing with spicy sausages, carrots and celery bits followed by a very rich dark chocolate "gateau."  After all, television can be the mother of an olfactory sublime invention and feast.  

Well, this years Three King's Day is behind us and so are the three great meals that followed.  Ana's place was a good place to be this past weekend as we relished in the art of food creation, libation and consumption! Not too shabby a way to celebrate the twelfth day after Christmas after tracking a long awaited for North Star!   Buon Appetito

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