[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
When I was around age five Grammy helped me take a bath and told me to put on my yellow dress and my good shoes. Then she came into my bedroom and braided my hair and made sure I had brushed my teeth and that I looked like the perfect little princess that I was. She took me by the hand, picked up her purse and car key, and gently guided me through the house. As we passed through the kitchen to the garage, mom looked up from her task at the sink. Smiling from ear to ear, she gave me a huge hug, and exchanged a warm familial wink with Grammy. We got inside Grammy’s very old car and off we went on a secret adventure.
It was my very first movie (Snow White). There were hundreds more after that first movie, most always with my grandmother, even well into my teens. Once my teen friends and I took her to the drive-in with us and watched Hud. Her insightful comments were hilarious but not suited for a “G” rated blog posting.
Maybe it was the elaborate way my grandmother set up my first movie experience, and the conspiracy with my mom and probably my dad, my aunt and uncle, the neighbors, and all her friends, that developed my passion for movies. I still love Snow White perhaps even more now than I did when I was a little girl. Snow White started me on my lifelong path of movie adoration.
So the other day I engaged in a lively discussion about a movie with one of my son’s friends (hence, this posting). He wasn’t thrilled about a particular movie and I loved it. I don't think it was entirely age-related but that may have been part of it. His reasons for being disappointed in the movie were more thoughtful, technical, and analytical, and my reasons for loving it were purely emotional. He gave it a 2 out of 5 and I gave it a 5. This is a very sharp young man and after thinking about his criticisms of the movie I came to agree but it didn’t reduce my love of the movie. (The Machinist)
Sometimes I may not like much about a particular movie but perhaps there’s an actor I love so it’s worth watching (anything with Paul Newman). Or maybe the director is a favorite (Pedro Almodóvar). Or maybe it’s a story I like based on a book but maybe the movie falls flat of delivery of the story (Da Vinci Code). I can still enjoy elements of a movie even if not the entire movie (McLeod’s Daughters). Even stinkers sometimes have redeeming value in part (Attack of the Killer Tomatoes). Sometimes I just like the sentiment of the movie even if it isn’t my type of movie (Forest Gump).
Over the years movies slipped into our homes. I was happy to have that first VCR that was the size of a small car because it was expensive to go to the movies with two small kids and not all movies were suitable for kids. I never censored their movies or reading materials but I did have control over what we did when they were very young so I chose more mainstream movies for many years until I lost control. If they requested a movie they heard about I rented it for them. Sometimes I clinched my teeth as we watched certain scenes but it opened up discussions that I may never have been brave enough to bring up myself. They learned that though a movie may be titillating it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good.
Sometimes I would go to the movies with friends and I became increasingly more disappointed with theater audiences. Chewing, crinkling paper, and a selection of smelly foods has now infiltrated the movie concession stands. People can now buy the most disgusting foods and eat them in poorly ventilated theaters then dump their containers on the floor where the smells linger and sometimes remain for the next set of movie attendees. That mess is often accompanied by body emissions. The odors oozing from the patrons sometimes arrived with them to the theater having stopped for a yummy meal with lots of garlic and perhaps alcohol before the movie. A nasty combination.
The staff tries to clean the area after each presentation but it never is clean enough for me. I have moved several times when encountering a sticky seat. Once a soaking wet seat. I prayed it was soda. And people no longer whisper. They just simply talk like they’re sitting at home. (Which, by the way, is forbidden when watching movies in my home. We either watch the movie or we talk. We don't do both at the same time.) And then there’s the cell phone invasion. Even if the phones are on “silent” the little screens light up the theater rows and glisten throughout taking me out of the “moment” of the movie and putting me right smack dab into someone’s cell phone. And some people haven’t figured out how to adjust the clicking of their text messaging.
Eventually I stopped going. Certain movies my son insists I see with the proper sound and screen size but it’s about once or twice a year. Yet, I watch movies every day at home. In fact, I’m planning on cutting down. I usually flip on my stereo first thing in the morning then when I’ve finished projects and dog walking and other things I select a movie. Sometimes I watch a movie, read a little, watch another movie, paint a wall, etc. Sometimes I watch two or three movies in a day depending on the weather and my possible activities for the day.
Like most phases in our development from childhood to adulthood our tastes change. I think we are all pretty much whom we start out to be forever but many of us refine ourselves and many of us remain childlike and petulant and it causes grief in our society. It’s reflected in the movies we see and the movies that are made to appeal to certain paying customers. Whether movies define our culture or merely portray it has been a popular discussion amongst critics and moviegoers alike. I suspect it’s a little of both.
Some are absolutely awful but receive huge revenues and thousands flock to see a movie appealing to our odd need to be embarrassed or disgusted. Others are life changing, but it’s often hard to find two friends who have seen such a movie. I do have a small circle of substance-movie devotees and I appreciate they are out there. Documentaries have come into their own as an art form as never before in the history of films. People create these pieces sometimes risking their lives to capture pristine nature or cruel human disasters, manmade or otherwise.
Anyone with a computer and a fairly new TV can now watch movies and documentaries and even their favorite TV shows 24/7 in the comfort of their homes. I have a Netflix subscription and I hook up my MacBook laptop to my nice new flatscreen TV (which was a gift on my 65th birthday from my daughter and her boyfriend) and watch movie after movie for $9.82 a month. Hulu and Fancast have countless movies for free that can be streamed from our computers to our TVs. The cord that connects my MacBook laptop to my TV was $29. There are other methods for watching the Internet on a TV and worth investigation. I thought $29 was a great price and a simple process. I no longer need cable service or satellite service.
In addition to the above, I downloaded free software from Boxee.com, which turned my computer/TV into a media system. With that was a free app for my iPhone turning it into a remote control! Truly, it’s amazing and I’ve only begun to explore the multitude of possibilities in this area. However, TV addiction is still TV addiction. I recently read an article concluding that too much TV for seniors is not good for them. So after the thrill of all these new movie delivery systems has worn off I’ll put myself on a movie diet and continue with other pursuits.
The offerings television cable companies or satellite companies provide are chosen for mass interest. I guess I’m not part of that group because there’s very little I like to watch on regular TV and yet the cost of service is exorbitant. Now that I have this set up I can watch things I absolutely want to watch when I want to watch them. Yes, I know TiVo and similar DVR technology does that too but it isn’t free. For my Netflix $9.82 a month I can watch countless movies. If I don't see anything I like on Netflix (which is practically impossible) I can go to Hulu or Fancast or many other sites and find incredible things to watch. For free. No cable service, no satellite dish, no wet movie seat, exactly what I want any time I want it.
I do pay for my DSL but I need that for my computer and it’s just an added benefit that I can utilize it for TV viewing also. I recently dumped my telephone landline. I never used it and paid $50 a month for it when I only use my cell. No cable TV service, no phone. Huge savings. All the networks offer many of their programming free to watch. There are a few ads per viewing but I don't mind that because I select the program that I want to watch and it’s free. Did I mention it’s free?
But the fact all of this is free isn’t as important as the fact that it can be tailored to one’s exact viewing preferences and times. So often when watching regular TV we flip through the channels trying to find something. Maybe we have an hour to kill before going somewhere and it’s 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon. Flipping around the channels trying to find something in that time slot is not easy. Flipping on my MacBook laptop and picking up episodes of a favorite TV show is very easy. In fact, it’s become important to me now more than ever to find things I believe have quality and value.
I find I’m not as interested in the big blockbuster movies as I once was. I now like movies with a bit more texture and grit. I watch independent film companies and foreign films most often. Even if it’s a comedy I like the comedy to be meaningful, a bit irreverent, satirical, and not loaded with crude toilet humor. I do like all types of movies but I lean toward quirky odd stories with quirky odd people. My favorite movie genre, when done well, is science fiction. (Captain Kirk, Teal’c, Jean-Luc Picard, Han Solo, etc. Pitter-patter.)
I still love Snow White. After all, a beautiful young girl living in the woods with a bunch of old men is quirky and suspicious. And the deal about the handsome prince rescuing her is quite controversial. (I plan on watching it again and again.)
[Note: I wasn’t going to end this with my choice of best movie of all time but I absolutely must. It’s My Favorite Year with Peter O’Toole who is so charming and so sexy and so adorable and so funny and so sympathetic and so intense and so wonderful right down to his toes that I swoon every time I watch it. Which is often. I swear I would adore him even if he read my grocery list out loud to me. I can hear him now . . .]
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
For Auld Lang Syne!
[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
I frequently gush about my long time love of the computer. There are countless benefits I have received from the computer but none so priceless as connecting with family and friends who are far away or rediscovering friends I thought I had lost track of forever. Over the last couple of years I have been in the happy state of almost weekly discoveries and transported back to my youth in a way I never thought possible.
I spent my teens in a small town known for long hot summers. My family moved to the small town from a large city. I was thirteen and learned life in a small town was very different from life in a large city. Add to that all the kids grew up together as a cohesive bunch of semi-siblings. It made me the “new” kid for my entire time there and made for interesting moments. It was very different for my city-born mother too but not for my dad. He thrived from day one having spent his youth in a small farming community in the south.
Though I experienced an unsettling period of adjustment early on, after enrolling in school I found I was enjoying life as a small town teen. The first few weeks were tough but the kids were a friendly bunch. I made a few cultural mistakes but I learned quickly. I wrote to my friends “back home” and they thought my new social activities and experiences were funny. I still had family in my previous hometown so we visited a few times in the first few months and I was able to visit my old friends but after a while the visits stretched to once a year then I don't remember going back until I was a young adult. Now I rarely visit my birth home though it isn’t that far away. I lost track of all my city childhood friends. I now think of the small town as my hometown though I only spent a little over six years there yet spent thirteen years in my birth city. That's how significant teen years are to a person's development.
There were cliques much like all schools but in a small town kids move freely between the cliques and for the most part everyone gets along. Of course there are always a few exceptions. While whiling away those years I often felt like I was in a teen movie: snappy cars, hamburger drive-ins, drive-in movies, outdoor skating rink, swimming in swimming holes or the rivers or lakes, cruising the drag, rock and roll, baseball in the park, stock car racing, dancing forever. It was our American Graffiti. (In fact, American Graffiti was filmed in the town I currently live in which is only an hour south of my small town home.)
When I left home I then lived in many places throughout my adult life. I married, raised a family, divorced, and kept on moving. Because my parents remained in the same town I always knew it was my home base, which was comforting no matter where I lived, or what I was experiencing. I loved visiting the folks during summers to enjoy the summer nights again. I could always go home to touch base with my comfort zone before heading back to my sometimes-complicated life.
Teen life in a small town, especially with hot days and warm summer nights, is special. Though there may not appear to be much to do in a small town, we always managed to have a fun time. We also got into our fair share of trouble. We were young and spirited and full of “ideas.” Not all of our ideas were good. I do not recall ever being bored. When my kids hit their teen years I was disappointed their social lives and that of their friends wasn’t as deep or rich as mine was. They too went to high school in a small town but it was a small town that was close to urban areas and the influence and availability of activities in the urban areas pulled them in that direction unlike the small town activities I enjoyed. Basically, I loved my teens and they did not love their teens. It was something they had to “get through.”
Though I experienced my right of passage and angst like all teens I still loved it. I remember getting ready to go to a dance with my friends and the minute I opened the front door and felt the warm summer night I was filled with great expectations. We were all decked out with poofy hair and snappy summer outfits, most of us sporting tans, and as was fashionable in that era, makeup fit for Cleopatra. To this day I long for those summer evenings but live in a town with frigid windy summer evenings. It’s the middle of July as I write this and I just watered my garden—in a parka. I might have to make a change.
Over the last few years some of my old teen friends have found each other. We have gone on a few “field” trips and met here and there and we have communicated by email. We are spread out all over the country. More recently social networking has opened up a whole new method for finding old friends. The referrals are flying. It’s amazing how we’ve connected and that we still enjoy each other’s company.
Because of a popular social networking site I’ve been on for about two years, last weekend I had yet another actual reunion with friends at my house. I admit that these reunions I’ve experienced over the past few years have turned me into an emotional and sentimental pile of mush. I adore seeing these friends and can’t wait to find more. This past weekend was so special I couldn’t stop smiling long after it ended. All day the following day as I walked around my house I kept thinking about how amazing it was we were all sitting in my living room chatting about everything as though we were getting ready for one of those warm summer night dances.
Sometimes these reunions I enjoy so much require that some of us travel great distances to reunite. It doesn’t matter. Most of us have retired or are about to retire and have lots of vacation time at our disposal to take these trips and visit. I’m not sure why it took so long to get to this point but I suspect a couple of reasons kept us apart.
First, we all went our separate ways and developed lives and lost touch. In urban areas many teens stay put because education and jobs are more easily found in that setting. Small town kids typically must move to attend college and find jobs. It didn’t mean we didn’t want to be in each other’s lives but it wasn’t practical and time marched on and we met new friends and developed other interests and lived adult lives. Also when we were developing our adult lives we didn’t have today’s technology and it wasn’t as easy to keep in touch. I suppose we could have phoned but if we weren’t keeping up with the daily life of a friend it was hard to sustain a phone conversation. No back-story to keep it going and one can only talk about the “good old days” for so long.
With email, text messaging, and social networking sites, we can catch up with a friend’s life in a relatively short period of time and from then on it’s simple to have a daily “hello” either with social networking or more privately with email. We can exchange photos and view a person’s entire life with a click.
Technology has reunited millions of family and friends around the world. We are so lucky to live in an age where we can extend our friendships for many years. I can’t wait to find more friends. I’m going to start looking for my pre-teen childhood friends next. [I know you are out there.]
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
I frequently gush about my long time love of the computer. There are countless benefits I have received from the computer but none so priceless as connecting with family and friends who are far away or rediscovering friends I thought I had lost track of forever. Over the last couple of years I have been in the happy state of almost weekly discoveries and transported back to my youth in a way I never thought possible.
I spent my teens in a small town known for long hot summers. My family moved to the small town from a large city. I was thirteen and learned life in a small town was very different from life in a large city. Add to that all the kids grew up together as a cohesive bunch of semi-siblings. It made me the “new” kid for my entire time there and made for interesting moments. It was very different for my city-born mother too but not for my dad. He thrived from day one having spent his youth in a small farming community in the south.
Though I experienced an unsettling period of adjustment early on, after enrolling in school I found I was enjoying life as a small town teen. The first few weeks were tough but the kids were a friendly bunch. I made a few cultural mistakes but I learned quickly. I wrote to my friends “back home” and they thought my new social activities and experiences were funny. I still had family in my previous hometown so we visited a few times in the first few months and I was able to visit my old friends but after a while the visits stretched to once a year then I don't remember going back until I was a young adult. Now I rarely visit my birth home though it isn’t that far away. I lost track of all my city childhood friends. I now think of the small town as my hometown though I only spent a little over six years there yet spent thirteen years in my birth city. That's how significant teen years are to a person's development.
There were cliques much like all schools but in a small town kids move freely between the cliques and for the most part everyone gets along. Of course there are always a few exceptions. While whiling away those years I often felt like I was in a teen movie: snappy cars, hamburger drive-ins, drive-in movies, outdoor skating rink, swimming in swimming holes or the rivers or lakes, cruising the drag, rock and roll, baseball in the park, stock car racing, dancing forever. It was our American Graffiti. (In fact, American Graffiti was filmed in the town I currently live in which is only an hour south of my small town home.)
When I left home I then lived in many places throughout my adult life. I married, raised a family, divorced, and kept on moving. Because my parents remained in the same town I always knew it was my home base, which was comforting no matter where I lived, or what I was experiencing. I loved visiting the folks during summers to enjoy the summer nights again. I could always go home to touch base with my comfort zone before heading back to my sometimes-complicated life.
Teen life in a small town, especially with hot days and warm summer nights, is special. Though there may not appear to be much to do in a small town, we always managed to have a fun time. We also got into our fair share of trouble. We were young and spirited and full of “ideas.” Not all of our ideas were good. I do not recall ever being bored. When my kids hit their teen years I was disappointed their social lives and that of their friends wasn’t as deep or rich as mine was. They too went to high school in a small town but it was a small town that was close to urban areas and the influence and availability of activities in the urban areas pulled them in that direction unlike the small town activities I enjoyed. Basically, I loved my teens and they did not love their teens. It was something they had to “get through.”
Though I experienced my right of passage and angst like all teens I still loved it. I remember getting ready to go to a dance with my friends and the minute I opened the front door and felt the warm summer night I was filled with great expectations. We were all decked out with poofy hair and snappy summer outfits, most of us sporting tans, and as was fashionable in that era, makeup fit for Cleopatra. To this day I long for those summer evenings but live in a town with frigid windy summer evenings. It’s the middle of July as I write this and I just watered my garden—in a parka. I might have to make a change.
Over the last few years some of my old teen friends have found each other. We have gone on a few “field” trips and met here and there and we have communicated by email. We are spread out all over the country. More recently social networking has opened up a whole new method for finding old friends. The referrals are flying. It’s amazing how we’ve connected and that we still enjoy each other’s company.
Because of a popular social networking site I’ve been on for about two years, last weekend I had yet another actual reunion with friends at my house. I admit that these reunions I’ve experienced over the past few years have turned me into an emotional and sentimental pile of mush. I adore seeing these friends and can’t wait to find more. This past weekend was so special I couldn’t stop smiling long after it ended. All day the following day as I walked around my house I kept thinking about how amazing it was we were all sitting in my living room chatting about everything as though we were getting ready for one of those warm summer night dances.
Sometimes these reunions I enjoy so much require that some of us travel great distances to reunite. It doesn’t matter. Most of us have retired or are about to retire and have lots of vacation time at our disposal to take these trips and visit. I’m not sure why it took so long to get to this point but I suspect a couple of reasons kept us apart.
First, we all went our separate ways and developed lives and lost touch. In urban areas many teens stay put because education and jobs are more easily found in that setting. Small town kids typically must move to attend college and find jobs. It didn’t mean we didn’t want to be in each other’s lives but it wasn’t practical and time marched on and we met new friends and developed other interests and lived adult lives. Also when we were developing our adult lives we didn’t have today’s technology and it wasn’t as easy to keep in touch. I suppose we could have phoned but if we weren’t keeping up with the daily life of a friend it was hard to sustain a phone conversation. No back-story to keep it going and one can only talk about the “good old days” for so long.
With email, text messaging, and social networking sites, we can catch up with a friend’s life in a relatively short period of time and from then on it’s simple to have a daily “hello” either with social networking or more privately with email. We can exchange photos and view a person’s entire life with a click.
Technology has reunited millions of family and friends around the world. We are so lucky to live in an age where we can extend our friendships for many years. I can’t wait to find more friends. I’m going to start looking for my pre-teen childhood friends next. [I know you are out there.]
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Sunday, July 18, 2010
I feel pretty!
[New blogs posted every Sunday. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
When Janet Reno became our attorney general back in the dark time, not a day went by that someone didn’t comment on her appearance. And not favorably. Early on Barbara Bush received the same treatment. Hilary is constantly criticized about her wardrobe choices and sometimes her hair. Like vultures at a kill, paparazzi pick movie stars and celebrities apart. If they wear the wrong shoes it hits the headlines. Recently we had Barbara Boxer’s hair.
Who cares?
Though Janet Reno and I do not share the same political leanings, I never once questioned her appearance. In fact, I didn’t understand what was wrong with her appearance. To me she was an intelligent, sensibly dressed woman. She was not Paris Hilton and I bet a million dollars she wouldn’t want to be. I also suspect her simple clothing choices were selected for comfort to hold up through what must have been very long tortuous days.
Same with Barbara Bush. I’m not a Bush family fan but it has nothing to do with their physical attributes or lack thereof. She is not Shakira and doesn’t pretend to be. Why would she even care about her appearance other than to be expensively and modestly dressed, neat and tidy, with her signature white hair? I do not care for the woman for many reasons but her appearance is not one of the reasons. In fact, she has a friendly motherly demeanor though I believe she is as far from that as a barracuda is to a bunny. (I don't believe respect for the elderly is a given. It’s earned. She didn’t earn it. There are many people in rest homes that do not receive visitors and it’s not because they have mean families though there is that too. It’s because they made enemies. White hair doesn’t mean you’re sweet.)
Carly Fiorina’s accidental open mic comment about Barbara Boxer’s hair amazed me because it came at a time when political crappola was flying and she should have been concentrating on issues and not hair--I thought. I realize Carly didn’t mean for that comment to hit the airwaves via the open mic but though it was a mistake the fact she said it and thought it makes me wonder why she felt it was important enough to repeat at all? If she has nothing else pushing her brain cells around but Barbara Boxer’s hair is she worthy of public office?
It’s like Clinton and the blue dress. Was he a good president? Did the blue dress matter? Yes, it mattered. Being the leader of our country should have made him tend to his zipper while in office. Total lack of judgment. Did I want that man with access to the button if he couldn’t zip?
The paparazzi of course are responsible for most of this. We also sometimes hear such nonsense from our mainstream “reporters.” They have created the monsters we’ve become by blasting us with comments about celebrity appearances. If a celebrity is seen at a grocery store in sweats it’s the lead story on the evening tabloid “magazine” show. TMZ, the most repulsive of the bunch, is particularly disgusting when it comes to catching people at leisure, some when they aren’t feeling well and look like they’ve been run over by a steamroller. As I’ve mentioned in a few postings I’m preparing a blog on TV and I’ve forced myself to watch certain shows to get a feel for their contributions to society. Argh.
When I garden sometimes I find I have to dash to the nursery to get something I need. My gardening ensembles are frightening. They are also stained with countless spots obtained from years of gardening and house projects. I wear them over and over because they are comfortable and protect my skin. I have transparent skin. I can get sunburned watching the sun set in a movie. Snow White doesn’t hold a candle to me.
So my outfits used for gardening and projects are intense and ugly. They are always clean. Before I begin each project I leave the house in a clean gardening outfit. I also select a project hat to cover my head and protect my neck from the sun. If I need to dash to the hardware store because my fence is about to fall unless I buy supports I don't change and wear heels and makeup. I jump in the car and run through the store and get my item and head home. While there I see plenty of other disheveled shoppers crouched over and running to avoid eye contact. If I was a celebrity I’d be on the evening “news” in my special outfit. I’m sure the tag would read “Sharon Strawhand Garner was observed at Sam’s Nursery, drunk and disheveled and behaving bizarrely,” with video depicting my hunched over dash to the car.
For many years I’ve observed appearance “issues” in the work place. As the years progressed casual dress began to surface. My first work experience was in San Francisco in the financial district. Though the city was filled with flower children during that era there were those of us who wore sandals and peasant dresses and beads and braids on the weekends but traded it all in on Monday mornings for nylons, heels, and smart little dresses and suits, our hair coiffed and unbraided.
I’ve lived in many cities over the years and most of the offices I worked in were somewhat formal for men as well as women. In most offices way back then (yikes) men wore their jackets all day. They didn’t hang them on the back of their office doors, they kept them on. No tie loosening either. I was happy when the dress code began to relax. I switched from heels to flats or one-inch pumps and toward the very end of my career I wore slacks exclusively with knee-hi stockings rather than nylons. Today many women do not wear nylons at all. I don't like it but I applaud it. (When I grew up we wore gloves when we went shopping in San Francisco. White gloves for children, kid-leather for moms.)
Years ago I wore makeup in whatever style was popular in the magazines. Some eras were ghastly but I still got up way too early and put on my face. I couldn’t eat breakfast because it would take time away from applying my makeup. About fifteen years ago I developed a problem with mascara and though I tried many brands I finally had to give it up. I live in a county known for allergies and I believe it wasn’t the mascara but the tiny particles drifting in the air which then adhered themselves to the mascara. I tried wearing the rest of my eye makeup without the mascara but it looked odd to me. So I gave it up. Next I gave up foundation. I now wear sunblock and lipstick. I have a publicity photo with full makeup including the aforementioned mascara. When I got home from the photo session, which was held outdoors in a beautiful setting, my eyes were almost swollen shut.
What’s truly strange about my transformation to a natural look is that at first I thought I looked ugly. Maybe that’s too strong. Unattractive might be a better choice. Plain might be even better. I’ve come to love plain. In fact, I like that I look “clean” with a fresh face and no greasy makeup. I still wear lipstick because as I mentioned above, I have transparent white skin and without lipstick it is difficult to determine where my mouth is. My family and friends might find that amusing since my mouth is rarely closed.
I took the time to explain all that because over the years through the various changes we were all going through in our appearance it was frequently discussed by coworkers who commented negatively on the changes of women who were changing. “Oh, she looks terrible. She doesn’t wear any makeup at all.” "Oh, she looks terrible. She doesn’t wear nylons.” “Oh, she looks terrible. She never wears a skirt or a dress.” I heard it all and many more (she’s too fat, she’s too thin, she’s too plain, etc.). Again, I ask, why do we care? Often the people commenting on their coworkers were no visions of beauty themselves. We pride ourselves that we live in a free society and we can be individuals and do whatever we want but then we turnaround and criticize those who operate outside of current fashion trends.
I just read my blog from the beginning and I answered my own question. We behave this way because of the media. We are told what is pretty and what is not. We are told what to buy to be pretty and acceptable to the world. Baloney. Let’s not do that. We were born with everything we need to be perfect just as we are. Just put on a smile and walk out the door. You might need a little lipstick if your gene pool is similar to mine.
I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.
-West Side Story
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
AT&T wireless
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
When Janet Reno became our attorney general back in the dark time, not a day went by that someone didn’t comment on her appearance. And not favorably. Early on Barbara Bush received the same treatment. Hilary is constantly criticized about her wardrobe choices and sometimes her hair. Like vultures at a kill, paparazzi pick movie stars and celebrities apart. If they wear the wrong shoes it hits the headlines. Recently we had Barbara Boxer’s hair.
Who cares?
Though Janet Reno and I do not share the same political leanings, I never once questioned her appearance. In fact, I didn’t understand what was wrong with her appearance. To me she was an intelligent, sensibly dressed woman. She was not Paris Hilton and I bet a million dollars she wouldn’t want to be. I also suspect her simple clothing choices were selected for comfort to hold up through what must have been very long tortuous days.
Same with Barbara Bush. I’m not a Bush family fan but it has nothing to do with their physical attributes or lack thereof. She is not Shakira and doesn’t pretend to be. Why would she even care about her appearance other than to be expensively and modestly dressed, neat and tidy, with her signature white hair? I do not care for the woman for many reasons but her appearance is not one of the reasons. In fact, she has a friendly motherly demeanor though I believe she is as far from that as a barracuda is to a bunny. (I don't believe respect for the elderly is a given. It’s earned. She didn’t earn it. There are many people in rest homes that do not receive visitors and it’s not because they have mean families though there is that too. It’s because they made enemies. White hair doesn’t mean you’re sweet.)
Carly Fiorina’s accidental open mic comment about Barbara Boxer’s hair amazed me because it came at a time when political crappola was flying and she should have been concentrating on issues and not hair--I thought. I realize Carly didn’t mean for that comment to hit the airwaves via the open mic but though it was a mistake the fact she said it and thought it makes me wonder why she felt it was important enough to repeat at all? If she has nothing else pushing her brain cells around but Barbara Boxer’s hair is she worthy of public office?
It’s like Clinton and the blue dress. Was he a good president? Did the blue dress matter? Yes, it mattered. Being the leader of our country should have made him tend to his zipper while in office. Total lack of judgment. Did I want that man with access to the button if he couldn’t zip?
The paparazzi of course are responsible for most of this. We also sometimes hear such nonsense from our mainstream “reporters.” They have created the monsters we’ve become by blasting us with comments about celebrity appearances. If a celebrity is seen at a grocery store in sweats it’s the lead story on the evening tabloid “magazine” show. TMZ, the most repulsive of the bunch, is particularly disgusting when it comes to catching people at leisure, some when they aren’t feeling well and look like they’ve been run over by a steamroller. As I’ve mentioned in a few postings I’m preparing a blog on TV and I’ve forced myself to watch certain shows to get a feel for their contributions to society. Argh.
When I garden sometimes I find I have to dash to the nursery to get something I need. My gardening ensembles are frightening. They are also stained with countless spots obtained from years of gardening and house projects. I wear them over and over because they are comfortable and protect my skin. I have transparent skin. I can get sunburned watching the sun set in a movie. Snow White doesn’t hold a candle to me.
So my outfits used for gardening and projects are intense and ugly. They are always clean. Before I begin each project I leave the house in a clean gardening outfit. I also select a project hat to cover my head and protect my neck from the sun. If I need to dash to the hardware store because my fence is about to fall unless I buy supports I don't change and wear heels and makeup. I jump in the car and run through the store and get my item and head home. While there I see plenty of other disheveled shoppers crouched over and running to avoid eye contact. If I was a celebrity I’d be on the evening “news” in my special outfit. I’m sure the tag would read “Sharon Strawhand Garner was observed at Sam’s Nursery, drunk and disheveled and behaving bizarrely,” with video depicting my hunched over dash to the car.
For many years I’ve observed appearance “issues” in the work place. As the years progressed casual dress began to surface. My first work experience was in San Francisco in the financial district. Though the city was filled with flower children during that era there were those of us who wore sandals and peasant dresses and beads and braids on the weekends but traded it all in on Monday mornings for nylons, heels, and smart little dresses and suits, our hair coiffed and unbraided.
I’ve lived in many cities over the years and most of the offices I worked in were somewhat formal for men as well as women. In most offices way back then (yikes) men wore their jackets all day. They didn’t hang them on the back of their office doors, they kept them on. No tie loosening either. I was happy when the dress code began to relax. I switched from heels to flats or one-inch pumps and toward the very end of my career I wore slacks exclusively with knee-hi stockings rather than nylons. Today many women do not wear nylons at all. I don't like it but I applaud it. (When I grew up we wore gloves when we went shopping in San Francisco. White gloves for children, kid-leather for moms.)
Years ago I wore makeup in whatever style was popular in the magazines. Some eras were ghastly but I still got up way too early and put on my face. I couldn’t eat breakfast because it would take time away from applying my makeup. About fifteen years ago I developed a problem with mascara and though I tried many brands I finally had to give it up. I live in a county known for allergies and I believe it wasn’t the mascara but the tiny particles drifting in the air which then adhered themselves to the mascara. I tried wearing the rest of my eye makeup without the mascara but it looked odd to me. So I gave it up. Next I gave up foundation. I now wear sunblock and lipstick. I have a publicity photo with full makeup including the aforementioned mascara. When I got home from the photo session, which was held outdoors in a beautiful setting, my eyes were almost swollen shut.
What’s truly strange about my transformation to a natural look is that at first I thought I looked ugly. Maybe that’s too strong. Unattractive might be a better choice. Plain might be even better. I’ve come to love plain. In fact, I like that I look “clean” with a fresh face and no greasy makeup. I still wear lipstick because as I mentioned above, I have transparent white skin and without lipstick it is difficult to determine where my mouth is. My family and friends might find that amusing since my mouth is rarely closed.
I took the time to explain all that because over the years through the various changes we were all going through in our appearance it was frequently discussed by coworkers who commented negatively on the changes of women who were changing. “Oh, she looks terrible. She doesn’t wear any makeup at all.” "Oh, she looks terrible. She doesn’t wear nylons.” “Oh, she looks terrible. She never wears a skirt or a dress.” I heard it all and many more (she’s too fat, she’s too thin, she’s too plain, etc.). Again, I ask, why do we care? Often the people commenting on their coworkers were no visions of beauty themselves. We pride ourselves that we live in a free society and we can be individuals and do whatever we want but then we turnaround and criticize those who operate outside of current fashion trends.
I just read my blog from the beginning and I answered my own question. We behave this way because of the media. We are told what is pretty and what is not. We are told what to buy to be pretty and acceptable to the world. Baloney. Let’s not do that. We were born with everything we need to be perfect just as we are. Just put on a smile and walk out the door. You might need a little lipstick if your gene pool is similar to mine.
I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.
-West Side Story
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
AT&T wireless
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Jury Duty 101
[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
I’ve received five invitations to be a member of our jury system in two California counties, but many years passed between invitations. There were significant differences in the management of jurors in both locations. I understand the jury system has improved over the years but there’s room for more improvement. The jury pools were made up of an interesting group of folks on all of my visits. The jury pool selection procedure can use an overhaul too. For the most part I enjoyed the experience and was fortunate that all five times I found the system worked reasonably well, but with flaws. The flaws ranged from the issuance of the summons to preparing a verdict. In one instance the phone number to the “jury hot line” was dead. Improvement efforts continue.
The first two times (in another county) I requested postponements because my daughter had a health issue. I remember being concerned I wouldn’t be excused and would have to hire someone to take care of her but the system understood my situation and I was released. She grew out of her condition by around age two but I did not receive another summons for many years.
The last three summonses for duty were in my current county. The first time I was required to call the jury coordinator’s message line for a week to see if they needed me and I was excused without having to visit the courthouse. That concluded my responsibility for quite some time. The second time I was invited down to the courthouse for a few days and finally placed on a jury. When the attorneys began questioning us I was excused almost immediately. Must have been my perfume. The last time I was summoned I was selected and impaneled for a one-week jury trial--that lasted a month. That’s another area needing improvement. Too many unforeseen circumstances are allowed to alter the course of a trial and prolong it long after most of us desperately need to return to our lives.
High profile cases have entered our lives over the years and a growing animosity for juries has developed. For those of us who have never served on a jury it’s understandable to second-guess. All of the evidence in the media pushes at us and makes those of us out here in TV-land decide the case on our own. What we see and hear every day for weeks and months certainly places people in either camp and very few are on the fence. Worse, prospective jurors for the sensational trials are privy to media blitzes about the facts of the case long before selection. It’s a wonder that any jurors can be selected without bias. Attorneys must strive to interview and question jurors in such a way as to find people who truly can listen to the official court case without preconceived notions. Not an easy task and yet it’s how our system works—or doesn’t. In today’s technology changing venues seems a waste of time. On the big public cases if one had a case in San Francisco it would be difficult to change the venue to Paris to find jurors without an opinion. Everyone on the planet knows the details and the players from the beginning and we all form opinions. Where do we go for an untainted jury?
I was a legal secretary for many years with my local municipal government. During that time I worked on many court cases and prepared dozens of sets of jury instructions and proposed verdict forms along with boxes of documents and mountains of exhibits. The jury instructions and verdict forms prepared by opposing sides are then given to the judges and may or may not be accepted as presented and often the instructions and proposed verdicts are drafted and redrafted before the jury gets them. Those two documents are almost more important than all the evidence the jurors hear during the course of a trial. Those documents form the basis of how the jurors will deliberate. They are designed to remove personal opinion and emotion out of the jury verdict process. The rest of us sitting in our living rooms do not receive the jury instructions or verdict forms. A pity. Motions produced at trial change allowed information dramatically.
Judges rule their own courts. Certainly they are required to follow regional and/or district rules and regulations but each judge has a set of his or her own rules that opposing counsel are required to obtain and study. It’s wildly different court to court. A little overhaul in that area wouldn’t hurt either. Though it’s proper for a judge to have authority, there are good and bad judges. There are judges with biases, jurors with bias, and attorneys with biases. It’s a miracle we get anything passed through our courts without riots.
Once a case has concluded the judge delivers the jury instructions and verdict forms to the jury. They must then only consider the direction of those two documents when deliberating. If they heard about something on TV related to the case but never heard a word of it during the trial, they cannot use that information in their deliberations. Some things heard outside of the courtroom in the high profile cases are extremely damaging to one side or the other but if not allowed into evidence the jurors must struggle to keep that information out of their thoughts. Not an easy thing to do which is why we have jury instructions and verdict forms.
When I visited my courthouse on the last two occasions I was called to duty, we were gathered together in a large room filled to the brim with people. For the most part my co-prospects were normal, average, every-day people. There were a few fringe citizens in the group and they were quickly dispatched early on. The last time I served two young men were sent home to change clothes. One came back and the other didn’t. We learned later that deputies were going to visit him at home. The room we stayed in was not very large and every seat was taken. There were vending machines and bathrooms that were remarkably clean. The room went from hot to freezing. It was an old building. No windows. My desk at work was piling high. Stress loomed for many. Babysitters needed notification, spouses needed notification, and work needed notification. But there we sat.
Throughout our time in the room groups were called to follow a deputy to a courtroom for final selection and were never seen or heard from again. In the late afternoon I was called with a large group and we were told to drive to an off-site location, an annex to our crowded original courthouse. Transportation was provided for those who used public transport.
This was my second actual selection. I hoped to be selected because I was eager to see the trial experience from the other side of the fence. By the time we got to the annex it was late in the day. The judge and attorneys met with us briefly and explained the procedure for final selection the next day. The next morning after questioning and dismissing and questioning and dismissing the final twelve and alternates were selected and we began. The building was new but the AC and heating system were awful. We were always too hot or too cold. We had one sleepy juror and court staff tried to find the right temperature but the system did not provide a comfortable setting. She was uncomfortable the entire month. A bailiff was assigned to us and took care of our every need. We were the last jury he would babysit. After our trial he was retiring and going off to the land of fishing and travel after many years devoted to the courts.
Our case was a civil matter and we were a cohesive group from day one. Each of us adhered to the admonishments handed down by the judge to not discuss the case at all during our break times nor with anyone else we knew. Because it was not a high profile case we did not see anything about it in the news. We were all obedient and during our breaks and down time we discussed books, movies, travel, and our personal lives, and all became quite friendly. I thoroughly enjoyed this group and because our one-week trial stretched to a month we became oddly close. We loved our bailiff. The experiences of my family and friends were similar but some of their co-jurors were not so “enlightened” and the juries were not up to the job. Jury selection is an art form.
Finally the case was given to us for deliberation along with the verdict form and the judge read the jury instructions. It was late in the day so we had just enough time to select a foreman and our deputy told us to come back the next day at 9:00. As we gathered our things to leave I noticed a shift of in our group. Though we were still friendly we had all become very quiet and serious. No chitchat about what we were cooking for dinner, no lingering to discuss our new shoes, no laughing, and no casual discussions. We made straight shots to our cars and were gone. We all knew we were now deciding the fate of two people. Plaintiff was suing defendant and it was going to be bad for one of them, but which one? It was medical malpractice.
The next morning we sat in our cold room with our morning beverages of choice and passed around the verdict forms and set up an easel and marker pens. We each had our note pads we had used during the trial. We were all diligent note takers. Our foreman was an organized woman and her first suggestion was that we read the verdict form and try to answer the questions preliminarily to see where we stood and to determine how much deliberation we were going to need. As we read through the form we hit snags in agreement and made notes. The case was complex. After that we spent the day meticulously going over allowed material to use for deciding. We discussed verbiage and some were being very literal about the wording while others thought it was more of a guide.
I’ve heard some juries have been problematic when it comes to the written word. If one is a literal reader or comprehensive reader or someone else just takes it all in generally, real problems can occur. In our group we were able to overcome these differences more easily than I had expected. We all felt that without an understanding of what we needed to consider we could not go forward. I’m so proud of our earnest group. It was difficult for me to keep my mouth shut regarding various legal protocols. My main contribution was to explain the basics of how we needed to operate. I realized I could have swayed the group but I chose not to. Do all jurors operate in a fair manner? Does everyone with any “power” use that power wisely or is it used to strong-arm? I chose gentle guidance.
Finally, we went through the verdict form again, this time with agreed upon guidelines, and suddenly we all realized we were headed to a verdict. We then did a thorough review of the case. By spending time ferreting out what we could consider and what we couldn’t consider the outcome was clearly before us. As it turned out we found for the defendant. The most amazing part of this decision, we learned much later, is that we didn’t like the defendant and we all felt terribly sorry for the plaintiff. The defendant appeared to be smug and arrogant, his attorney had a big city demeanor (for our medium sized town) but the fact of the matter is, that doesn’t matter. The case fell in his favor and that was our decision. His attorney simply developed a better case and we could not decide in plaintiff’s favor based on the jury instructions and the verdict form.
Before contacting our deputy to tell him we had a verdict we sat back and agreed to meet for dinner in the next few days so that we could speak openly about the case and the process. Like I said earlier, we had gotten quite close. When we met we chatted nonstop for over an hour and said things we had all been dying to say but the overwhelming theme of our group was how sorry we were that we couldn’t find in favor of the plaintiff but that we were extremely proud of ourselves for coming up with a proper verdict based on what we were allowed to consider. We never met again.
Since then I have often wondered what the Rodney King jury had to work with when making their decision. How about the O.J. jury? Robert Blake? The list is huge. So many cases have come before the general public and when concluded we are often stunned with the outcome because we didn't have the information the jury did. This past Thursday it was the Mehserle criminal case verdict. I saw the videos, I heard the legal analysts, I watched countless reports, saw hundreds of interviews with the “man on the street,” read news reports for months, and this past week it all came to an end. All that’s left now is the sentencing.
I wasn’t on the jury panel. I know what I saw on TV and read online, but I didn’t have access to the jury instructions and did not read the verdict form they were given. If they were a conscientious group of jurors, then they made a decision based on the choices they were given—even if they didn’t like their choices. It isn’t always pretty and tied up with a bow. I feel for both families. Not only did they suffer from the event but also they had to endure the ordeal in front of the world. More is coming their way with sentencing.
Perhaps one way to ease the public angst in these cases is to give us more genuine information instead of sound bites when the jury is set to deliberate. Maybe if we could hear the jury instructions and read the verdict forms we would know the parameters. We hear so much in these cases but the information we need is not provided and so we are often outraged.
Over the next few days, weeks, and months, the case will be analyzed before the world and perhaps everyone will understand the jury’s verdict. The jury could only follow the order of the court in deliberations. I suspect the jury is feeling pain knowing there were real families awaiting their decision, twelve strangers deciding the fate of two families based on two simple documents. At some point in the process the people fade into the background and it’s all about the documents. That’s how it works.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
I’ve received five invitations to be a member of our jury system in two California counties, but many years passed between invitations. There were significant differences in the management of jurors in both locations. I understand the jury system has improved over the years but there’s room for more improvement. The jury pools were made up of an interesting group of folks on all of my visits. The jury pool selection procedure can use an overhaul too. For the most part I enjoyed the experience and was fortunate that all five times I found the system worked reasonably well, but with flaws. The flaws ranged from the issuance of the summons to preparing a verdict. In one instance the phone number to the “jury hot line” was dead. Improvement efforts continue.
The first two times (in another county) I requested postponements because my daughter had a health issue. I remember being concerned I wouldn’t be excused and would have to hire someone to take care of her but the system understood my situation and I was released. She grew out of her condition by around age two but I did not receive another summons for many years.
The last three summonses for duty were in my current county. The first time I was required to call the jury coordinator’s message line for a week to see if they needed me and I was excused without having to visit the courthouse. That concluded my responsibility for quite some time. The second time I was invited down to the courthouse for a few days and finally placed on a jury. When the attorneys began questioning us I was excused almost immediately. Must have been my perfume. The last time I was summoned I was selected and impaneled for a one-week jury trial--that lasted a month. That’s another area needing improvement. Too many unforeseen circumstances are allowed to alter the course of a trial and prolong it long after most of us desperately need to return to our lives.
High profile cases have entered our lives over the years and a growing animosity for juries has developed. For those of us who have never served on a jury it’s understandable to second-guess. All of the evidence in the media pushes at us and makes those of us out here in TV-land decide the case on our own. What we see and hear every day for weeks and months certainly places people in either camp and very few are on the fence. Worse, prospective jurors for the sensational trials are privy to media blitzes about the facts of the case long before selection. It’s a wonder that any jurors can be selected without bias. Attorneys must strive to interview and question jurors in such a way as to find people who truly can listen to the official court case without preconceived notions. Not an easy task and yet it’s how our system works—or doesn’t. In today’s technology changing venues seems a waste of time. On the big public cases if one had a case in San Francisco it would be difficult to change the venue to Paris to find jurors without an opinion. Everyone on the planet knows the details and the players from the beginning and we all form opinions. Where do we go for an untainted jury?
I was a legal secretary for many years with my local municipal government. During that time I worked on many court cases and prepared dozens of sets of jury instructions and proposed verdict forms along with boxes of documents and mountains of exhibits. The jury instructions and verdict forms prepared by opposing sides are then given to the judges and may or may not be accepted as presented and often the instructions and proposed verdicts are drafted and redrafted before the jury gets them. Those two documents are almost more important than all the evidence the jurors hear during the course of a trial. Those documents form the basis of how the jurors will deliberate. They are designed to remove personal opinion and emotion out of the jury verdict process. The rest of us sitting in our living rooms do not receive the jury instructions or verdict forms. A pity. Motions produced at trial change allowed information dramatically.
Judges rule their own courts. Certainly they are required to follow regional and/or district rules and regulations but each judge has a set of his or her own rules that opposing counsel are required to obtain and study. It’s wildly different court to court. A little overhaul in that area wouldn’t hurt either. Though it’s proper for a judge to have authority, there are good and bad judges. There are judges with biases, jurors with bias, and attorneys with biases. It’s a miracle we get anything passed through our courts without riots.
Once a case has concluded the judge delivers the jury instructions and verdict forms to the jury. They must then only consider the direction of those two documents when deliberating. If they heard about something on TV related to the case but never heard a word of it during the trial, they cannot use that information in their deliberations. Some things heard outside of the courtroom in the high profile cases are extremely damaging to one side or the other but if not allowed into evidence the jurors must struggle to keep that information out of their thoughts. Not an easy thing to do which is why we have jury instructions and verdict forms.
When I visited my courthouse on the last two occasions I was called to duty, we were gathered together in a large room filled to the brim with people. For the most part my co-prospects were normal, average, every-day people. There were a few fringe citizens in the group and they were quickly dispatched early on. The last time I served two young men were sent home to change clothes. One came back and the other didn’t. We learned later that deputies were going to visit him at home. The room we stayed in was not very large and every seat was taken. There were vending machines and bathrooms that were remarkably clean. The room went from hot to freezing. It was an old building. No windows. My desk at work was piling high. Stress loomed for many. Babysitters needed notification, spouses needed notification, and work needed notification. But there we sat.
Throughout our time in the room groups were called to follow a deputy to a courtroom for final selection and were never seen or heard from again. In the late afternoon I was called with a large group and we were told to drive to an off-site location, an annex to our crowded original courthouse. Transportation was provided for those who used public transport.
This was my second actual selection. I hoped to be selected because I was eager to see the trial experience from the other side of the fence. By the time we got to the annex it was late in the day. The judge and attorneys met with us briefly and explained the procedure for final selection the next day. The next morning after questioning and dismissing and questioning and dismissing the final twelve and alternates were selected and we began. The building was new but the AC and heating system were awful. We were always too hot or too cold. We had one sleepy juror and court staff tried to find the right temperature but the system did not provide a comfortable setting. She was uncomfortable the entire month. A bailiff was assigned to us and took care of our every need. We were the last jury he would babysit. After our trial he was retiring and going off to the land of fishing and travel after many years devoted to the courts.
Our case was a civil matter and we were a cohesive group from day one. Each of us adhered to the admonishments handed down by the judge to not discuss the case at all during our break times nor with anyone else we knew. Because it was not a high profile case we did not see anything about it in the news. We were all obedient and during our breaks and down time we discussed books, movies, travel, and our personal lives, and all became quite friendly. I thoroughly enjoyed this group and because our one-week trial stretched to a month we became oddly close. We loved our bailiff. The experiences of my family and friends were similar but some of their co-jurors were not so “enlightened” and the juries were not up to the job. Jury selection is an art form.
Finally the case was given to us for deliberation along with the verdict form and the judge read the jury instructions. It was late in the day so we had just enough time to select a foreman and our deputy told us to come back the next day at 9:00. As we gathered our things to leave I noticed a shift of in our group. Though we were still friendly we had all become very quiet and serious. No chitchat about what we were cooking for dinner, no lingering to discuss our new shoes, no laughing, and no casual discussions. We made straight shots to our cars and were gone. We all knew we were now deciding the fate of two people. Plaintiff was suing defendant and it was going to be bad for one of them, but which one? It was medical malpractice.
The next morning we sat in our cold room with our morning beverages of choice and passed around the verdict forms and set up an easel and marker pens. We each had our note pads we had used during the trial. We were all diligent note takers. Our foreman was an organized woman and her first suggestion was that we read the verdict form and try to answer the questions preliminarily to see where we stood and to determine how much deliberation we were going to need. As we read through the form we hit snags in agreement and made notes. The case was complex. After that we spent the day meticulously going over allowed material to use for deciding. We discussed verbiage and some were being very literal about the wording while others thought it was more of a guide.
I’ve heard some juries have been problematic when it comes to the written word. If one is a literal reader or comprehensive reader or someone else just takes it all in generally, real problems can occur. In our group we were able to overcome these differences more easily than I had expected. We all felt that without an understanding of what we needed to consider we could not go forward. I’m so proud of our earnest group. It was difficult for me to keep my mouth shut regarding various legal protocols. My main contribution was to explain the basics of how we needed to operate. I realized I could have swayed the group but I chose not to. Do all jurors operate in a fair manner? Does everyone with any “power” use that power wisely or is it used to strong-arm? I chose gentle guidance.
Finally, we went through the verdict form again, this time with agreed upon guidelines, and suddenly we all realized we were headed to a verdict. We then did a thorough review of the case. By spending time ferreting out what we could consider and what we couldn’t consider the outcome was clearly before us. As it turned out we found for the defendant. The most amazing part of this decision, we learned much later, is that we didn’t like the defendant and we all felt terribly sorry for the plaintiff. The defendant appeared to be smug and arrogant, his attorney had a big city demeanor (for our medium sized town) but the fact of the matter is, that doesn’t matter. The case fell in his favor and that was our decision. His attorney simply developed a better case and we could not decide in plaintiff’s favor based on the jury instructions and the verdict form.
Before contacting our deputy to tell him we had a verdict we sat back and agreed to meet for dinner in the next few days so that we could speak openly about the case and the process. Like I said earlier, we had gotten quite close. When we met we chatted nonstop for over an hour and said things we had all been dying to say but the overwhelming theme of our group was how sorry we were that we couldn’t find in favor of the plaintiff but that we were extremely proud of ourselves for coming up with a proper verdict based on what we were allowed to consider. We never met again.
Since then I have often wondered what the Rodney King jury had to work with when making their decision. How about the O.J. jury? Robert Blake? The list is huge. So many cases have come before the general public and when concluded we are often stunned with the outcome because we didn't have the information the jury did. This past Thursday it was the Mehserle criminal case verdict. I saw the videos, I heard the legal analysts, I watched countless reports, saw hundreds of interviews with the “man on the street,” read news reports for months, and this past week it all came to an end. All that’s left now is the sentencing.
I wasn’t on the jury panel. I know what I saw on TV and read online, but I didn’t have access to the jury instructions and did not read the verdict form they were given. If they were a conscientious group of jurors, then they made a decision based on the choices they were given—even if they didn’t like their choices. It isn’t always pretty and tied up with a bow. I feel for both families. Not only did they suffer from the event but also they had to endure the ordeal in front of the world. More is coming their way with sentencing.
Perhaps one way to ease the public angst in these cases is to give us more genuine information instead of sound bites when the jury is set to deliberate. Maybe if we could hear the jury instructions and read the verdict forms we would know the parameters. We hear so much in these cases but the information we need is not provided and so we are often outraged.
Over the next few days, weeks, and months, the case will be analyzed before the world and perhaps everyone will understand the jury’s verdict. The jury could only follow the order of the court in deliberations. I suspect the jury is feeling pain knowing there were real families awaiting their decision, twelve strangers deciding the fate of two families based on two simple documents. At some point in the process the people fade into the background and it’s all about the documents. That’s how it works.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Sunday, July 4, 2010
A waste of time?
[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
A few weeks ago a friend with a large collection of beautiful jigsaw puzzles asked if I’d like to set one up at my house for a few weeks. I don't remember the last time I worked on a jigsaw puzzle but I suspect it was when my kids were little. I recall setting up puzzles on our dining room table from time to time and we’d all work on them together and sometimes individually as we passed by the table throughout the day. Sometimes I’d see one of the kids placing a few pieces before heading out to school. Often if one person sat down another would join in. I liked that about working a puzzle. It was an ongoing family project. When completed I left it up for a while so that we could admire it for a few days, then I'd put it away. In a few weeks or months I’d pull out a new puzzle.
I accepted my friend’s offer and went to work on a 500-piece scene of a village in Switzerland. Once completed, I left it out for a few days to admire my handiwork just as I did many years ago and it brought back fond memories. It was a pleasurable passage of time. I’d put something on my stereo and pass a little time here and there. After a few weeks I bought a 1000-piece puzzle because I wanted the enjoyment to last longer. As of this writing I’m about one-quarter of the way into it.
I recall the same activity when I was a young and I was glad my kids enjoyed it too. In fact, I’ve always enjoyed many types of puzzles and find them relaxing. In particular I like puzzles that can be left for long periods of time because sometimes things come up preventing my return. I became absolutely hooked on Sudoku a few years ago and found that once I started I couldn’t stop. In the beginning I worked on them for hours then finally I put myself on a Sudoku diet. Now I can only pull out a Sudoku puzzle with a specific time allowance. Once I pass the allotted time for Sudoku I don't touch them again for many weeks. The jigsaw puzzle isn’t like that.
I also like to read, write, garden, walk, work on computer projects, knit, crochet, create craft projects, sew, and many other leisure activities. Recently at lunch with friends we discussed some of the projects we were working on and I mentioned the puzzle I had set up in my dining room. Every one of them groaned. It was, they said, a waste of time.
We then launched into a discussion about leisure activities and the consensus was that reading expands the mind, writing likewise, gardening maintains one’s property, walking is good for our health, computer projects are important for organizing life, knitting, crocheting, crafting, and sewing produce garments or decorative pieces for gifts or the home, and so forth. Puzzles did nothing.
I recall sheepishly agreeing with everyone. I got caught up in the moment. These women are always constructing every part of their lives and there’s little time for frivolity unless it’s carefully factored into their planners. But later at home I passed by the table with all my puzzle pieces neatly arranged into color categories, sitting in tidy rows next to two large plastic plates that I use to piece together segments before joining them to the master puzzle, my tiny spatula used to carefully move joined pieces about because my fingers are too clumsy for delicate placement, my magnifying glass used to detect slight variations in color shades, and I thought to myself-—this just can’t be bad. I put a lot of effort into this activity. Is it a waste of time?
I think I temporarily fell victim to the mindset that every moment of every day must be filled with important content. I was slightly embarrassed that I had gotten caught in mindlessness at lunch. To spend even a minute of time doing something without meaning was wasteful. But when seeing my beautiful puzzle later that day I snapped back to who I really am: someone who loves to fritter away time in pursuit of meaningless and silly activities.
Interestingly, this same group spent a portion of our lunch discussing the latest happenings on American Idle, Dancing with the Stars, and others. It just so happens that I have never watched those shows, never will, along with all the other shows of their ilk, and I’m embarrassed they exist. (That’s a very unpopular opinion. I have a list of TV shows I find vile and will eventually produce a blog on the topic. I actually had to watch them to write about them. It was ugly.)
I was surprised to learn how many hours these women spent watching TV. They all defended their time in front of the screen as their down time, the time they use to unwind after busy days. Yet, these same intelligent task-driven women that watch trash TV felt compelled to inform me that working on a jigsaw puzzle was a waste of time. Really?
So naturally that drove me to my trusty computer and I did a little research on the value of puzzles, word games, and TV. Everyone agrees we can strengthen our brains by exercising them. This is not done when passively staring at a TV screen. If we are studying language through a telecourse, or playing a video game then watching TV is productive and we create new connections in the brain while strengthening old ones. Take a peek at the Internet and there are countless articles on the benefits of working a variety of puzzles for children and the elderly, both groups needing regular stimulation of those dear little brain connectors.
The Journal of the American Medical Association stated that elderly people strengthen their synapses through brain-boosting exercises and show improvement in memory, reasoning skills, and mental processing [paraphrasing]. Here’s a helpful link. (There are many.) You may have to cut and paste.
http://www.ehow.com/facts_5201227_puzzles-good-brain_.html#ixzz0sAQt0aiD
I also read that in 1969 a researcher by the name of Herbert Krugman monitored a person over a period of time and found that in less than one minute of television viewing the person's brainwaves switched from Beta waves--brainwaves associated with active, logical thought--to primarily less productive Alpha waves. When the subject stopped watching television and began reading a magazine, the brainwaves reverted to Beta waves. But all of that isn’t the point, is it? What we do in our leisure time is personal and what works for one person is not necessarily going to work for another. We are not wasting time if we are relaxing because we are—relaxing!
I watched part of the World Cup recently because the USA was playing and I enjoyed it and it turned out to be an exciting game. However, I can’t see myself spending that much time on a regular basis watching TV. Over two hours. I heard today that the average person watches more than two hours of TV per day. It’s a leisure activity that many enjoy even if we are reduced to Alpha waves. We are relaxing.
But I’d rather work a jigsaw puzzle with the Beatles streaming from the Bose and I’ll be building brain connectors while doing so. American Idol vs. a jigsaw puzzle with the Beatles? Maybe a jigsaw puzzle depicting the four lads? Let it be.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
A few weeks ago a friend with a large collection of beautiful jigsaw puzzles asked if I’d like to set one up at my house for a few weeks. I don't remember the last time I worked on a jigsaw puzzle but I suspect it was when my kids were little. I recall setting up puzzles on our dining room table from time to time and we’d all work on them together and sometimes individually as we passed by the table throughout the day. Sometimes I’d see one of the kids placing a few pieces before heading out to school. Often if one person sat down another would join in. I liked that about working a puzzle. It was an ongoing family project. When completed I left it up for a while so that we could admire it for a few days, then I'd put it away. In a few weeks or months I’d pull out a new puzzle.
I accepted my friend’s offer and went to work on a 500-piece scene of a village in Switzerland. Once completed, I left it out for a few days to admire my handiwork just as I did many years ago and it brought back fond memories. It was a pleasurable passage of time. I’d put something on my stereo and pass a little time here and there. After a few weeks I bought a 1000-piece puzzle because I wanted the enjoyment to last longer. As of this writing I’m about one-quarter of the way into it.
I recall the same activity when I was a young and I was glad my kids enjoyed it too. In fact, I’ve always enjoyed many types of puzzles and find them relaxing. In particular I like puzzles that can be left for long periods of time because sometimes things come up preventing my return. I became absolutely hooked on Sudoku a few years ago and found that once I started I couldn’t stop. In the beginning I worked on them for hours then finally I put myself on a Sudoku diet. Now I can only pull out a Sudoku puzzle with a specific time allowance. Once I pass the allotted time for Sudoku I don't touch them again for many weeks. The jigsaw puzzle isn’t like that.
I also like to read, write, garden, walk, work on computer projects, knit, crochet, create craft projects, sew, and many other leisure activities. Recently at lunch with friends we discussed some of the projects we were working on and I mentioned the puzzle I had set up in my dining room. Every one of them groaned. It was, they said, a waste of time.
We then launched into a discussion about leisure activities and the consensus was that reading expands the mind, writing likewise, gardening maintains one’s property, walking is good for our health, computer projects are important for organizing life, knitting, crocheting, crafting, and sewing produce garments or decorative pieces for gifts or the home, and so forth. Puzzles did nothing.
I recall sheepishly agreeing with everyone. I got caught up in the moment. These women are always constructing every part of their lives and there’s little time for frivolity unless it’s carefully factored into their planners. But later at home I passed by the table with all my puzzle pieces neatly arranged into color categories, sitting in tidy rows next to two large plastic plates that I use to piece together segments before joining them to the master puzzle, my tiny spatula used to carefully move joined pieces about because my fingers are too clumsy for delicate placement, my magnifying glass used to detect slight variations in color shades, and I thought to myself-—this just can’t be bad. I put a lot of effort into this activity. Is it a waste of time?
I think I temporarily fell victim to the mindset that every moment of every day must be filled with important content. I was slightly embarrassed that I had gotten caught in mindlessness at lunch. To spend even a minute of time doing something without meaning was wasteful. But when seeing my beautiful puzzle later that day I snapped back to who I really am: someone who loves to fritter away time in pursuit of meaningless and silly activities.
Interestingly, this same group spent a portion of our lunch discussing the latest happenings on American Idle, Dancing with the Stars, and others. It just so happens that I have never watched those shows, never will, along with all the other shows of their ilk, and I’m embarrassed they exist. (That’s a very unpopular opinion. I have a list of TV shows I find vile and will eventually produce a blog on the topic. I actually had to watch them to write about them. It was ugly.)
I was surprised to learn how many hours these women spent watching TV. They all defended their time in front of the screen as their down time, the time they use to unwind after busy days. Yet, these same intelligent task-driven women that watch trash TV felt compelled to inform me that working on a jigsaw puzzle was a waste of time. Really?
So naturally that drove me to my trusty computer and I did a little research on the value of puzzles, word games, and TV. Everyone agrees we can strengthen our brains by exercising them. This is not done when passively staring at a TV screen. If we are studying language through a telecourse, or playing a video game then watching TV is productive and we create new connections in the brain while strengthening old ones. Take a peek at the Internet and there are countless articles on the benefits of working a variety of puzzles for children and the elderly, both groups needing regular stimulation of those dear little brain connectors.
The Journal of the American Medical Association stated that elderly people strengthen their synapses through brain-boosting exercises and show improvement in memory, reasoning skills, and mental processing [paraphrasing]. Here’s a helpful link. (There are many.) You may have to cut and paste.
http://www.ehow.com/facts_5201227_puzzles-good-brain_.html#ixzz0sAQt0aiD
I also read that in 1969 a researcher by the name of Herbert Krugman monitored a person over a period of time and found that in less than one minute of television viewing the person's brainwaves switched from Beta waves--brainwaves associated with active, logical thought--to primarily less productive Alpha waves. When the subject stopped watching television and began reading a magazine, the brainwaves reverted to Beta waves. But all of that isn’t the point, is it? What we do in our leisure time is personal and what works for one person is not necessarily going to work for another. We are not wasting time if we are relaxing because we are—relaxing!
I watched part of the World Cup recently because the USA was playing and I enjoyed it and it turned out to be an exciting game. However, I can’t see myself spending that much time on a regular basis watching TV. Over two hours. I heard today that the average person watches more than two hours of TV per day. It’s a leisure activity that many enjoy even if we are reduced to Alpha waves. We are relaxing.
But I’d rather work a jigsaw puzzle with the Beatles streaming from the Bose and I’ll be building brain connectors while doing so. American Idol vs. a jigsaw puzzle with the Beatles? Maybe a jigsaw puzzle depicting the four lads? Let it be.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Saturday, June 26, 2010
When the dog bites!
[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower left of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]
“When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad.”
That lyric from the song My Favorite Things (Mary Poppins), has a whole new meaning for me. Recently, I reached across my daughter’s small sleeping dog, a Chihuahua mix, and grabbed my cell phone. Her sweet adorable little head was resting near to it, in fact, was slightly touching it.
As I reached I must have grazed her face and she bit me. She did not snarl at me, she did not nip me, she did not growl a warning shot. Nope, she jerked awake and went for the bone. I have a photo I took the next day when I changed my bandage and it depicts a perfect impression of her teeth. There are two deep gouges from her canine daggers in addition to a perfect row of her tiny teeth. It looks like a vampire bite. Don't worry--I am not sharing the gruesome photo in this blog.
I’m not a newbie with dogs. I’ve had dogs almost my entire life with very short periods in between dog ownership. I’ve had all kinds of dogs including a Great Dane we rescued from the pound in Detroit. I am in tune with dogs and their various behaviors and have been lucky to have had dogs that live long, healthy lives. I’m good to them, they live in my house with me as little furry sub humans, they go most places I go, I never ever leave them in the car, not even for a moment, I walk them every day unless it pours, I take them to the vet regularly for exams and vaccines, I’m careful when they meet strangers, I never allow them off leash when we walk, I pick up their droppings, I keep them clean and maintained (fur, nails, ears, anal glands), I wear out vacuums every couple of years, and I love them deeply. A friend of mine in Arizona has said many times that when she dies she wants to come back as a dog but only with owners like us. Our dogs are treated better than many people treat their children.
And so I am devastated.
I spend a great deal of time researching information on a variety of topics for my blogs and for my books. In fact, I recently finished my second book and I’m in the process of fact-checking and editing. Not my favorite part of writing but absolutely necessary. Didn’t do that the day after the bite, however. No, that day I was online all day reading about dog bites. More than half of the information is about stray dogs that bite and legal issues. The subsequent problems involved with medical care and a stray dog bite are unpleasant. Still, it’s not a walk in the park for one’s own dog to bite its beloved owner.
When I walk my dogs I carry a little fanny pack with poop bags, tissue, my cell phone, house key, water, iPod, Band-Aids, and a fondue fork. Fondue forks are very long and crazy sharp on one end. I carry that fork because it fits in my fanny pack if I need it to ward off a stray dog with a desire to bite me.
Once when walking a cute little dog I had years ago a giant Rot came after us. His owner screamed bloody murder and ran after his errant Rot while waving a leash over his head as a warning to me. But he needn’t have wasted his energy. I knew that dog wasn’t on a leash. He ran like the wind.
Just as the dog got to us my dog tried to climb inside my rib cage. I have scars to this day where she dug in through my blouse to my skin. My blouse didn’t survive. The Rot was only interested in my dog and not me so I had the advantage, sort of, to use my feet and I just stood still and kicked him in the head as hard as I could. I felt teeth at one point but no bite and no broken skin. The man reached us and wrapped the leash around the dog like a lasso and pulled with all his might. I used bad words.
After that incident I spent the next two days looking for a fanny pack sized weapon. I have a pocketknife but I don't want to kill a dog, I just want to keep it from eating me. So when I got around to my kitchen utensil drawer, after eliminating many nasty looking tools in my garage, I saw the fondue fork and I knew it would be perfect. I haven’t had to use it, thankfully, but I know it would hurt with just a few pokes. I know that because I poked myself with it a few times when removing poop bags from the fanny pack and had to put a small piece of cork over the prongs. (Hence, the Band-Aids.) A friend once used some kind of spray in a small can (pepper spray or Mace) and it didn’t work at all. In fact, the dog attacking her became even more agitated when sprayed. I’ve heard an air horn works well and can be purchased in pocket-sized cans.
Another time when walking by myself on a bright sunny day, three young people approached and hassled me for money and the contents of my fanny pack (I now keep my cell and iPod in my pockets and I have an old cell in my fanny pack as a decoy. Somewhere around the house I think I have an old MP3 player that I need to place in the pack as my iPod decoy).
They encircled me and I explained I didn’t bring money when walking. One asked where I lived. (Yeah, come back to my house and I’ll serve tea while you rob me.) It was broad daylight on a fairly busy street. I pushed my way to the middle of the street and started running and waving my arms and they took off. This occurred pre-fondue fork. Now I have the fondue fork and I’m ready for all comers.
Some counties require that doctors report all dog bites (so I didn’t go to the doctor). The culprit is then placed on a list. In the case of our little biter it would be a “watch” list and not a “three strikes you’re out” list. Her bite was involuntary. Sort of like when the doctor whacks your knee with his little knee whacking tool and you involuntarily kick his gut with your foot.
She did not bite me because I took her toy, or ate her food, or disciplined her, or a myriad of other slights. She was asleep. She bit me coming out of a deep sleep. And touching a dog around the head when they are asleep is considered by dog experts an unwise thing to do.
I have a large lab mix and he has the most incredible dreams of any dog I’ve ever owned. When he dreams he can rock the house with the snarling and leg twitching. I usually just give him a shove in the hindquarters and he blinks and rolls over. Though I do not ever recall tapping him on the head while he’s dreaming I certainly will never ever never do that never ever never in the future. If he had bitten me instead of the little Chihuahua I would be without a hand today. They do not know what they are doing if startled from a deep sleep with a human hand/arm hovering over their face. Do they even know it’s a hand/arm? If I awakened in the middle of the night with someone’s hand/arm hovering over my face what would I do? Start punching? Wet the bed? (Both.)
Having this bite is heartbreaking because I’m feeling a loss of trust with both dogs. It’s sort of like having one’s husband cheat. Can we ever really trust them (or a new husband) again? I know she loves me in her doggie way and I know that in her waking hours she would never hurt me. She’s young so we play many times a day. In fact, one of our games is tug-of-war with her toys. As I tug she growls. Sometimes I win, sometimes she wins. Her tail wags the entire time. However, a friend told me her trainer advised never to play tug-of-war with a dog, even a friendly dog. It’s all about the alpha thing and power and control. They cannot rationalize situations quite like we can. They are animals. They are our beloved sweet pets, but first and foremost, they are animals.
I’ve watched various animal shows where people have trained grizzlies and tigers and chimps and dogs and other animals and we know that sometimes they bite, or worse. My little Chihuahua granddog’s bite cannot be compared to a tiger bite. I have new compassion and empathy for Roy of Siegfried & Roy. Not only did he almost die but he was completely heartbroken. Many animal experts have since declared it was an accident. The tiger wasn’t angry but something tweaked his animal instincts. Steve Irwin, The [late] Crocodile Hunter, remarked often about treating pets or semi-tame creatures with care because they are first and foremost animals. Even his expertise couldn’t protect him and he paid the ultimate price for his love of animals.
Part of dog ownership is protecting them from their own potential bad behavior. I have always done that. When my dogs are around children, depending on the dog, (and mostly depending on the children) I may or may not allow the dog to visit with them. Sometimes I put my dog or dogs in my bedroom when I have certain guests. Some people behave inappropriately or incorrectly around dogs and I don't want an accident that would send my guest to the hospital and my dog to the pound. I’m 65 and it has never happened. I don't let strangers approach quickly and start petting the dogs until I size up the stranger. All dogs need the human protection barrier to keep everything nice and friendly.
As I completed this post I looked around to find both dogs sleeping peacefully at my feet. They are always here when I work on my computer and I often bend down and give them each a little pat on the head as they sleep. They always wake up and produce eager tail wags and ask the silent question “can we go for a walk now?” Sadly, I will never ever pat them on the head when they are sleeping. I will forever follow the wise idiom: let sleeping dogs lie.
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
“When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad.”
That lyric from the song My Favorite Things (Mary Poppins), has a whole new meaning for me. Recently, I reached across my daughter’s small sleeping dog, a Chihuahua mix, and grabbed my cell phone. Her sweet adorable little head was resting near to it, in fact, was slightly touching it.
As I reached I must have grazed her face and she bit me. She did not snarl at me, she did not nip me, she did not growl a warning shot. Nope, she jerked awake and went for the bone. I have a photo I took the next day when I changed my bandage and it depicts a perfect impression of her teeth. There are two deep gouges from her canine daggers in addition to a perfect row of her tiny teeth. It looks like a vampire bite. Don't worry--I am not sharing the gruesome photo in this blog.
I’m not a newbie with dogs. I’ve had dogs almost my entire life with very short periods in between dog ownership. I’ve had all kinds of dogs including a Great Dane we rescued from the pound in Detroit. I am in tune with dogs and their various behaviors and have been lucky to have had dogs that live long, healthy lives. I’m good to them, they live in my house with me as little furry sub humans, they go most places I go, I never ever leave them in the car, not even for a moment, I walk them every day unless it pours, I take them to the vet regularly for exams and vaccines, I’m careful when they meet strangers, I never allow them off leash when we walk, I pick up their droppings, I keep them clean and maintained (fur, nails, ears, anal glands), I wear out vacuums every couple of years, and I love them deeply. A friend of mine in Arizona has said many times that when she dies she wants to come back as a dog but only with owners like us. Our dogs are treated better than many people treat their children.
And so I am devastated.
I spend a great deal of time researching information on a variety of topics for my blogs and for my books. In fact, I recently finished my second book and I’m in the process of fact-checking and editing. Not my favorite part of writing but absolutely necessary. Didn’t do that the day after the bite, however. No, that day I was online all day reading about dog bites. More than half of the information is about stray dogs that bite and legal issues. The subsequent problems involved with medical care and a stray dog bite are unpleasant. Still, it’s not a walk in the park for one’s own dog to bite its beloved owner.
When I walk my dogs I carry a little fanny pack with poop bags, tissue, my cell phone, house key, water, iPod, Band-Aids, and a fondue fork. Fondue forks are very long and crazy sharp on one end. I carry that fork because it fits in my fanny pack if I need it to ward off a stray dog with a desire to bite me.
Once when walking a cute little dog I had years ago a giant Rot came after us. His owner screamed bloody murder and ran after his errant Rot while waving a leash over his head as a warning to me. But he needn’t have wasted his energy. I knew that dog wasn’t on a leash. He ran like the wind.
Just as the dog got to us my dog tried to climb inside my rib cage. I have scars to this day where she dug in through my blouse to my skin. My blouse didn’t survive. The Rot was only interested in my dog and not me so I had the advantage, sort of, to use my feet and I just stood still and kicked him in the head as hard as I could. I felt teeth at one point but no bite and no broken skin. The man reached us and wrapped the leash around the dog like a lasso and pulled with all his might. I used bad words.
After that incident I spent the next two days looking for a fanny pack sized weapon. I have a pocketknife but I don't want to kill a dog, I just want to keep it from eating me. So when I got around to my kitchen utensil drawer, after eliminating many nasty looking tools in my garage, I saw the fondue fork and I knew it would be perfect. I haven’t had to use it, thankfully, but I know it would hurt with just a few pokes. I know that because I poked myself with it a few times when removing poop bags from the fanny pack and had to put a small piece of cork over the prongs. (Hence, the Band-Aids.) A friend once used some kind of spray in a small can (pepper spray or Mace) and it didn’t work at all. In fact, the dog attacking her became even more agitated when sprayed. I’ve heard an air horn works well and can be purchased in pocket-sized cans.
Another time when walking by myself on a bright sunny day, three young people approached and hassled me for money and the contents of my fanny pack (I now keep my cell and iPod in my pockets and I have an old cell in my fanny pack as a decoy. Somewhere around the house I think I have an old MP3 player that I need to place in the pack as my iPod decoy).
They encircled me and I explained I didn’t bring money when walking. One asked where I lived. (Yeah, come back to my house and I’ll serve tea while you rob me.) It was broad daylight on a fairly busy street. I pushed my way to the middle of the street and started running and waving my arms and they took off. This occurred pre-fondue fork. Now I have the fondue fork and I’m ready for all comers.
Some counties require that doctors report all dog bites (so I didn’t go to the doctor). The culprit is then placed on a list. In the case of our little biter it would be a “watch” list and not a “three strikes you’re out” list. Her bite was involuntary. Sort of like when the doctor whacks your knee with his little knee whacking tool and you involuntarily kick his gut with your foot.
She did not bite me because I took her toy, or ate her food, or disciplined her, or a myriad of other slights. She was asleep. She bit me coming out of a deep sleep. And touching a dog around the head when they are asleep is considered by dog experts an unwise thing to do.
I have a large lab mix and he has the most incredible dreams of any dog I’ve ever owned. When he dreams he can rock the house with the snarling and leg twitching. I usually just give him a shove in the hindquarters and he blinks and rolls over. Though I do not ever recall tapping him on the head while he’s dreaming I certainly will never ever never do that never ever never in the future. If he had bitten me instead of the little Chihuahua I would be without a hand today. They do not know what they are doing if startled from a deep sleep with a human hand/arm hovering over their face. Do they even know it’s a hand/arm? If I awakened in the middle of the night with someone’s hand/arm hovering over my face what would I do? Start punching? Wet the bed? (Both.)
Having this bite is heartbreaking because I’m feeling a loss of trust with both dogs. It’s sort of like having one’s husband cheat. Can we ever really trust them (or a new husband) again? I know she loves me in her doggie way and I know that in her waking hours she would never hurt me. She’s young so we play many times a day. In fact, one of our games is tug-of-war with her toys. As I tug she growls. Sometimes I win, sometimes she wins. Her tail wags the entire time. However, a friend told me her trainer advised never to play tug-of-war with a dog, even a friendly dog. It’s all about the alpha thing and power and control. They cannot rationalize situations quite like we can. They are animals. They are our beloved sweet pets, but first and foremost, they are animals.
I’ve watched various animal shows where people have trained grizzlies and tigers and chimps and dogs and other animals and we know that sometimes they bite, or worse. My little Chihuahua granddog’s bite cannot be compared to a tiger bite. I have new compassion and empathy for Roy of Siegfried & Roy. Not only did he almost die but he was completely heartbroken. Many animal experts have since declared it was an accident. The tiger wasn’t angry but something tweaked his animal instincts. Steve Irwin, The [late] Crocodile Hunter, remarked often about treating pets or semi-tame creatures with care because they are first and foremost animals. Even his expertise couldn’t protect him and he paid the ultimate price for his love of animals.
Part of dog ownership is protecting them from their own potential bad behavior. I have always done that. When my dogs are around children, depending on the dog, (and mostly depending on the children) I may or may not allow the dog to visit with them. Sometimes I put my dog or dogs in my bedroom when I have certain guests. Some people behave inappropriately or incorrectly around dogs and I don't want an accident that would send my guest to the hospital and my dog to the pound. I’m 65 and it has never happened. I don't let strangers approach quickly and start petting the dogs until I size up the stranger. All dogs need the human protection barrier to keep everything nice and friendly.
As I completed this post I looked around to find both dogs sleeping peacefully at my feet. They are always here when I work on my computer and I often bend down and give them each a little pat on the head as they sleep. They always wake up and produce eager tail wags and ask the silent question “can we go for a walk now?” Sadly, I will never ever pat them on the head when they are sleeping. I will forever follow the wise idiom: let sleeping dogs lie.
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
N/A
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Ribbit, Ribbit?
[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower left of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.)
With the high number of celebrity relationship splits, along with a few I’ve heard about in the “real” world where I live, it’s put me in my “what’s the point” mode. From time to time I try to work through the mysteries of relationships and why so many fail. I’ve done this recently with the Sandra Bullock situation and Al and Tipper. I’m not interested in celebrities and their personal lives but those two “stories” actually hit the “real” news. Both couples seemed to have found “true love” and they may have. For a while.
Many of us are familiar with the concept/theory/hypothesis of “six degrees of separation.” It was originally conceptualized by Frigyes Karinthy, later developed into a play by John Guare, and then eventually made into a movie. It’s intriguing to read about so here’s a link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_degrees_of_separation
Six degrees of separation is the idea that everyone is at most six steps away from any other person on Earth, so that any two people can be connected in six steps or fewer. There are popular games people play utilizing this concept and in particular there’s the Kevin Bacon Game. I’m not sure how it started but actors then others started connecting themselves to Kevin Bacon and amazingly many of us could somehow in some way connect ourselves to him. He could be in a movie and work with a wardrobe employee (1) who has a sister (2) that works in the fashion industry who has a friend (3) who lives in Thailand who visited her uncle (4) in London who is a writer whose wife (5) is an actor whose friend (6) had a bit part in a movie with Kevin Bacon. I made that up and it’s not part of the real game but that’s how it works. These people are not related to Kevin Bacon but are connected. (It’s a small world after all.)
Along with all that, genetics have come so far that we can have a simple test of our DNA performed and the results can tell where we come from and what part of the world our ancestors originated from, from the beginning of humanity, and it can prove we are related to kings and queens and share the same gene pool with movie stars and famous criminals. There are a couple of interesting TV programs that do this with ordinary people and famous people. I’ve included an interesting link on how that works:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetic_linking
So we’re all connected and there are approximately 6,826,900,000 of us on the planet as of this morning (June 13, 2010, though I won’t be posting this blog until the 19th or 20th). I visited the World Population Clock for that figure.
Along with all of this I once read that there are 250,000 perfect love matches for every single person on the planet. That has probably changed along with the population since I last checked that figure. Not only that but if something happened to your perfect mate you could theoretically go back to your remaining 249,999 perfect mate pool and simply pick out another perfect mate. I’m not talking about simply available love matches I’m talking about perfect matches. Soulmates.
So why do we have so much trouble finding them? My address book looks like divorce court. Very few people I know have dipped into their 250,000 selection pool. They keep finding matches outside that pool and they are far from perfect. And to define “perfect” I don't mean someone you can live with without being miserable or bored to death or burning their dirty socks. I mean, why can’t we find the loves of our lives? They are out there because we are connected (as tediously outlined above).
Early on I kissed a few frogs then found a toad, warts and all, and when the toad hopped away, leaving me with two tadpoles, I decided to call it quits. So many friends over the years have begged me to drop back in the pond but I kept going back to my sad address book with all the cross outs of husbands and wives and kids and stepkids and I just didn’t see the point. I figured out finding the perfect soulmate, though possible, was simply not probable. I think my perfect soulmate might be in Zimbabwe or Iceland. He is not in California. Of the 250,000 that are out there for us, there are no guarantees they will be in any reasonable proximity to our location.
I have over the years had friendships that were solely based on a friend’s endless relationship misery. We would meet for lunch and the entire lunch discussion was about another failed relationship she was experiencing. I could have had open-heart surgery the day before but it wasn’t discussed. Instead I had to listen to yet another litany of complaints about another boyfriend or another husband. Or both.
It was especially amusing to me when friends who were in horrible relationships would nag me to meet someone and “get back out there.” Is it because they wanted me to be just as miserable as they were? Why are we so attached to the dream of marriage and soulmates? I know why. Romantic novels and movies. (I watched Persuasion last night on PBS. I loved it (again) and I love Jane Austen (always). She wrote f-i-c-t-i-o-n.)
I have now lived without a frog in my life for many years. I do not live a loveless life. I have my family, friends, pets, peace, music, books, movies, peace, contentment, tranquility, peace, gardening, traveling, peace, writing, and peace. Did I mention peace? We don't appreciate ourselves and our abilities to create full lives without a mate. And that includes creating financial comfort which we can certainly manage all by our little ole’ selves. There’s a great line attributed to Ann Landers, the famous lovelorn columnist: it’s better to be alone than to wish you were. It’s my mantra.
I know there are some reading this thinking how nice it would be to spend this lovely weekend with family and friends and read outside on a little swing and have coffee with a neighbor, and take the dogs for a walk, and a million other things. Instead, too many of us are arguing with a spouse, or worse, not communicating at all. Too many of us are bone weary of the partners we are living with and dragging us ever downward into despair. Some of us are living with people who not only emotionally hurt us but physically hurt us. There are those of us who though they are not truly suffering they are living lives of crushing boredom and suffocation. Remember my address book.
Of the relationships I’ve known, read about, or heard about in my entire life, only a few can be considered “good.” Of those, an even smaller number can be considered “soulmate” quality. Devoting my life to family, friends, pets, the arts, and other quality attachments has allowed me to develop areas of my life that may have been lost to me had I endured a long sad unfulfilling relationship.
Many people have actually begged me to find a beau and almost in the same breath have told me how lucky I am to be on my own. And countless friends in what they consider good marriages tell me that if something happened to their husband they would not remarry. It’s not puzzling. It’s just a little flash of realism that hits them when they know I am going back to my peaceful quiet life as we leave our lunch and they are going back to numbing dullness and the thought that this was it forever. The human lifespan is short. Too short to suffer years of discontent. Is it any wonder that so many have affairs?
Most of us are in love with love. That type of love also sells products via commercials. Buy this product and find love and happiness and soft shiny hair too. Not all of us are destined to find perfect love but that doesn’t mean we settle. Instead, we find something else that fulfills our lives equal to if not greater than romantic love.
And let’s not forget that love is most often confused with lust. Sometimes the lust can last a long time and even in a bad relationship lust can keep it going. When lust diminishes or disappears entirely, some adult relationships progress to deep committed love and respect. Without lust, some relationships fall flatter than a Julia Child soufflé.
It doesn’t do any good for people to tell me how wonderful marriage is or a committed relationship is because of course I know they exist. But the effort it takes to fly to Zimbabwe to find my soulmate is too much and I’m just not interested in kissing more frogs. At some point we have to love ourselves to find the true meaning of love. If a cute frog happens to hop into my yard, maybe I’ll give it a try. Or maybe I’ll just get the cat.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
VM Fusionware-tech support
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
With the high number of celebrity relationship splits, along with a few I’ve heard about in the “real” world where I live, it’s put me in my “what’s the point” mode. From time to time I try to work through the mysteries of relationships and why so many fail. I’ve done this recently with the Sandra Bullock situation and Al and Tipper. I’m not interested in celebrities and their personal lives but those two “stories” actually hit the “real” news. Both couples seemed to have found “true love” and they may have. For a while.
Many of us are familiar with the concept/theory/hypothesis of “six degrees of separation.” It was originally conceptualized by Frigyes Karinthy, later developed into a play by John Guare, and then eventually made into a movie. It’s intriguing to read about so here’s a link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_degrees_of_separation
Six degrees of separation is the idea that everyone is at most six steps away from any other person on Earth, so that any two people can be connected in six steps or fewer. There are popular games people play utilizing this concept and in particular there’s the Kevin Bacon Game. I’m not sure how it started but actors then others started connecting themselves to Kevin Bacon and amazingly many of us could somehow in some way connect ourselves to him. He could be in a movie and work with a wardrobe employee (1) who has a sister (2) that works in the fashion industry who has a friend (3) who lives in Thailand who visited her uncle (4) in London who is a writer whose wife (5) is an actor whose friend (6) had a bit part in a movie with Kevin Bacon. I made that up and it’s not part of the real game but that’s how it works. These people are not related to Kevin Bacon but are connected. (It’s a small world after all.)
Along with all that, genetics have come so far that we can have a simple test of our DNA performed and the results can tell where we come from and what part of the world our ancestors originated from, from the beginning of humanity, and it can prove we are related to kings and queens and share the same gene pool with movie stars and famous criminals. There are a couple of interesting TV programs that do this with ordinary people and famous people. I’ve included an interesting link on how that works:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetic_linking
So we’re all connected and there are approximately 6,826,900,000 of us on the planet as of this morning (June 13, 2010, though I won’t be posting this blog until the 19th or 20th). I visited the World Population Clock for that figure.
Along with all of this I once read that there are 250,000 perfect love matches for every single person on the planet. That has probably changed along with the population since I last checked that figure. Not only that but if something happened to your perfect mate you could theoretically go back to your remaining 249,999 perfect mate pool and simply pick out another perfect mate. I’m not talking about simply available love matches I’m talking about perfect matches. Soulmates.
So why do we have so much trouble finding them? My address book looks like divorce court. Very few people I know have dipped into their 250,000 selection pool. They keep finding matches outside that pool and they are far from perfect. And to define “perfect” I don't mean someone you can live with without being miserable or bored to death or burning their dirty socks. I mean, why can’t we find the loves of our lives? They are out there because we are connected (as tediously outlined above).
Early on I kissed a few frogs then found a toad, warts and all, and when the toad hopped away, leaving me with two tadpoles, I decided to call it quits. So many friends over the years have begged me to drop back in the pond but I kept going back to my sad address book with all the cross outs of husbands and wives and kids and stepkids and I just didn’t see the point. I figured out finding the perfect soulmate, though possible, was simply not probable. I think my perfect soulmate might be in Zimbabwe or Iceland. He is not in California. Of the 250,000 that are out there for us, there are no guarantees they will be in any reasonable proximity to our location.
I have over the years had friendships that were solely based on a friend’s endless relationship misery. We would meet for lunch and the entire lunch discussion was about another failed relationship she was experiencing. I could have had open-heart surgery the day before but it wasn’t discussed. Instead I had to listen to yet another litany of complaints about another boyfriend or another husband. Or both.
It was especially amusing to me when friends who were in horrible relationships would nag me to meet someone and “get back out there.” Is it because they wanted me to be just as miserable as they were? Why are we so attached to the dream of marriage and soulmates? I know why. Romantic novels and movies. (I watched Persuasion last night on PBS. I loved it (again) and I love Jane Austen (always). She wrote f-i-c-t-i-o-n.)
I have now lived without a frog in my life for many years. I do not live a loveless life. I have my family, friends, pets, peace, music, books, movies, peace, contentment, tranquility, peace, gardening, traveling, peace, writing, and peace. Did I mention peace? We don't appreciate ourselves and our abilities to create full lives without a mate. And that includes creating financial comfort which we can certainly manage all by our little ole’ selves. There’s a great line attributed to Ann Landers, the famous lovelorn columnist: it’s better to be alone than to wish you were. It’s my mantra.
I know there are some reading this thinking how nice it would be to spend this lovely weekend with family and friends and read outside on a little swing and have coffee with a neighbor, and take the dogs for a walk, and a million other things. Instead, too many of us are arguing with a spouse, or worse, not communicating at all. Too many of us are bone weary of the partners we are living with and dragging us ever downward into despair. Some of us are living with people who not only emotionally hurt us but physically hurt us. There are those of us who though they are not truly suffering they are living lives of crushing boredom and suffocation. Remember my address book.
Of the relationships I’ve known, read about, or heard about in my entire life, only a few can be considered “good.” Of those, an even smaller number can be considered “soulmate” quality. Devoting my life to family, friends, pets, the arts, and other quality attachments has allowed me to develop areas of my life that may have been lost to me had I endured a long sad unfulfilling relationship.
Many people have actually begged me to find a beau and almost in the same breath have told me how lucky I am to be on my own. And countless friends in what they consider good marriages tell me that if something happened to their husband they would not remarry. It’s not puzzling. It’s just a little flash of realism that hits them when they know I am going back to my peaceful quiet life as we leave our lunch and they are going back to numbing dullness and the thought that this was it forever. The human lifespan is short. Too short to suffer years of discontent. Is it any wonder that so many have affairs?
Most of us are in love with love. That type of love also sells products via commercials. Buy this product and find love and happiness and soft shiny hair too. Not all of us are destined to find perfect love but that doesn’t mean we settle. Instead, we find something else that fulfills our lives equal to if not greater than romantic love.
And let’s not forget that love is most often confused with lust. Sometimes the lust can last a long time and even in a bad relationship lust can keep it going. When lust diminishes or disappears entirely, some adult relationships progress to deep committed love and respect. Without lust, some relationships fall flatter than a Julia Child soufflé.
It doesn’t do any good for people to tell me how wonderful marriage is or a committed relationship is because of course I know they exist. But the effort it takes to fly to Zimbabwe to find my soulmate is too much and I’m just not interested in kissing more frogs. At some point we have to love ourselves to find the true meaning of love. If a cute frog happens to hop into my yard, maybe I’ll give it a try. Or maybe I’ll just get the cat.
www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com
Each week in this spot I will report an instance of good customer service (if any) but without embellishment. Just a business or entity that knows how to treat customers at least some of the time if not always.
This week I received excellent customer service from:
VM Fusionware-tech support
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
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