lucky

I hopped a cab tonight because I really, really, couldn’t deal with the humanity that crowds the subway.  Well, actually, it was late enough that the trains wouldn’t be crowded, but still.  There was a chill in the air (frigid, perhaps) and I needed to get home.  A long-ish day.  Not like the “old days” but then again I am not in my 20s or 30s any more (barely still in my 40s).

The cab driver was talking on the phone.  His driving skills were basic:  if your foot is not on the gas (accelerating in a way that gave a born-and-bred Manhattanite motion sickness), then your foot must be on the brake.

Ok, so I needed him off the phone and off the gas pedal.  Hmmm.  I struck up a conversation.

“Where are you from?”

“Sudan.”

“What do you think of the elections?”

“I don’t think it will change much.  There will be fighting.”

“Are you from the north or the South?”

“North.  Independence won’t change anything.  People will fight each other now in the South.  Many different peoples.”

“Same problem in the North?”

“Government there is strong.  So, no fighting in north.”

I offered “brutal” as a more apt description.

He said, “way of life there, not here.”

I had no response to that simple statement of relief and admiration for this country.  I asked him what he thought about Egypt.

“Now the world knows what has been happening there.”

I was silent.  Maybe I should have known before.  I just didn’t think about it.

He offered up, “no one speaks to police.  too much bribes and danger.  not here, government is less corrupt.”

I had never thought of our government in terms of lesser corruption.  Not the superlatives we were raised to expect of our government.  But he meant it as a true compliment.

My world view, turned on an incline — “less corrupt” as a compliment and an ideal.

Another lesson in life from a stranger.

Dragon Wimpering in the Year of the Rabbit

My son keeps trying to teach me how to say Happy New Year in Mandarin, but he is soooooo frustrated with my horrible tones (for those of you who may not know, Chinese languages are tonal).  At the tender again of 8-1/2, he has been taking Chinese for a few years and apparently has really good tones.  But I wouldn’t know since I am obviously tone-illiterate.

As someone totally demoralized by the economic bloodbath of the last few years, I have taken to looking up any horoscope in any culture in a — yes, yes — futile attempt to divine (or control, let’s be honest) the future.

Since it is the Chinese New Year, I looked up Dragon in the Year of the Rabbit.  But that isn’t enough information.  I need to know my elements: am I wood or metal, earth or water or fire?  I always imagined my elements would be like 1920s-30s modern furniture — brushed steel or carved wood structure with fabrics in deep red accents or bright thin stripes.

But, you can’t simply pick what you think works for you.  That is determined at your time of birth.  Not so simple, now that Mom is gone.  But it wouldn’t have been so simple either if she were still alive. Mom gave birth in a classically 1960s way:  she was under anesthesia before the first labor pain and woke up for the hairdresser (surgery can play havoc on one’s slightly poofy, Jackie Kennedy look).

So, even when my mother was alive, she couldn’t say, “I stopped screaming at 3:00pm, so that’s how I know that’s when you were born.”  It would always have been, “Oh, darling, you were born sometime between when I was told to breathe deeply into the gas mask and when the hairdresser woke me for an in-hospital hair emergency procedure.”

So, it isn’t as easy as one might think to get tired, trite and vague prognostications.  I needed information from a third party reliable source.

I got out of bed where I was web-surfing and I started hunting around for my birth certificate.  I found only half of it.  The copy I have was the original copy given to my parents and, well, after 47 years, the part with the relevant information had disintegrated.

POB (partner of blogger) asked if she could help and I told her she would laugh at me if I told her what I was doing.  She didn’t laugh but she did roll her eyes.  The Big Eye Roll. The one that means “I had a crazy day and now you are going off the deep-end trying to find out the time of your birth so you can read some free, on-line horoscope and use that to guide your and — therefore my — life for the next 12 months?”

Ok, she had a point.  I cannot control the future.  I cannot divine whether my loved ones and I will be financially successful, or happy, or healthy or . . . or . . . .  But, crazy is as crazy does, because I keep trying.

We interrupt your usual programming

Egypt is still in chaos, Cambodia and Thailand are having border skirmishes, Southern Sudan is preparing for independence, and there are protests in Jordan, Lebanon.  Just to name a few things going on in the world.   Oh, yeah, and some asteroid will blow us up in 25 years.

But, we haven’t been able to talk about these things since Sunday.  Pre-game Superbowl coverage, the GAME and post-game jubilation and lamentation.  We’ll catch up with the world, let’s say, around Saturday, February 12.

So, please, rest of the world, forgive us.  We love you.  Really, we do.  But we love Super Bowl Sunday, chicken wings, salsa & chips, beer and barely-clad cheerleaders way better.

No, it is true that we love you.  We let our news coverage of the crisis in Egypt last one full week.  SEE?  The anchor men and women didn’t go back to being stupid until this morning.  And they say we Americans have attention spans of gnats.

Protesters in Egypt

I am following the events in Egypt.  As I understand the situation, there was long simmering unrest about the irreversible decades-long slide into poverty and human indignity.

Then, the harshness of life for one-third of the country crossed a line.  People took to the streets no longer fearful of the repressive regime because there was nothing more to lose.

I hope, naively for sure, that there is an orderly transition to representative government.  But not a government that looks like ours;  the government must be authentic and legitimate within Egyptian history and culture.

I think about these protesters and then I think back to the 2000 election in the US, where the voting irregularities, and finally a Supreme Court decision, effectively awarded the election to George W. Bush even though Al Gore won the popular vote.  Americans didn’t take to the streets.  Why?  Because we were rich, comfortable and had too much to lose by unrest.  Hey, I was angry but I didn’t really do anything but talk.

If we knew then what our nation would look and feel like 8 years later, would we have, should we have, taken to the streets to protest the fraud and the Supreme Court’s ruling?  Still, probably not.

And even thinking we might trivializes the determination and the courage of the protesters who are standing up against poverty, repression and hopelessness.

The caterpillar who became the butterfly

A friend told me a story about a caterpillar.

This young caterpillar was the first egg to hatch and ate up her shell faster than anyone else.  She was skating down the path to becoming the beautiful butterfly that was in her.  She did all of the right things.  She ate all of the nutritious stuff available.  Everyone around her said so.  They even told other, younger caterpillars to do just what this caterpillar was doing.  Months later, she started her cocoon, and she spun and spun and it was the best cocoon ever.  It had a separate chamber in case another caterpillar needed shelter from a substandard cocoon.

The caterpillar metamorphosed into a spectacularly beautiful butterfly.   The problem was that the cocoon was so carefully woven that the beautiful butterfly became ensnared in the fibers.  She couldn’t find her way out.  All of sudden she was frightened of what was outside.  Maybe she was meant to stay in the cocoon that was becoming her prison.

Her friends who were caterpillars had since become butterflies.  Some had holes in their wings, some had scars from life and some turned out to have colors as dull as moths.  But all surrounded the cocoon and begged the beautiful butterfly to come out and fly free.  Her friends knew that the world would be even a more wondrous place if she left her cocoon and spread her wings.  She would be so happy soaring!!

But the butterfly knew that her friends had been flying for a while and had laid their eggs and what if she couldn’t fly as high or as well because of all the years in the cocoon?  Nonsense, her friends told her.  “You were born to soar but you have to shed your cocoon.  It is dragging you down.  Flying weightless into the great blue sky and seeing the wonders of the great world is an experience like no other.  And you will appreciate it more because of your time in your cocoon.”

She whispered, “I will try soon but I am afraid right now.”

“We will be here when you first fly,” her friends responded.  “We know you won’t fall, but we will be there to catch you if you forget that you are not a caterpillar anymore.”

I asked my friend, “and, then?”

My friend paused and thought for a minute.  And my friend said, “There is no end.  There are only new beginnings.”

Winter

This morning there was a two-inch sheet of ice covering most of Manhattan.  I slip and slide on the un-shoveled sidewalks, comfortable in the knowledge that my father, who is over 90 years-old, is too level-headed to go outside.  He may be crazy when it comes to other things, and a little “vague” when it comes to yet other things, but about these things, he is a solid guy.

On a regular day, he would have gone to his sculpture studio, all the way down in Chinatown.  I call in the afternoon and, as I expected, he was home. 

I am soooo glad that you didn’t go to the studio, Dad.” 

 “Oh, no, no,” he replied, “not today.” 

I think, see, he is a level-headed guy.  But he continues: 

I had a check-up at 8:45am near NYU, so I wasn’t planning on going to the studio anyway.” 

My voice raised in alarm:  “Dad, that was when the ice was the worst!!!” 

Dad was reassuring in tone and demeanor, “Sweetheart, the sidewalks were shoveled in front of the doorman buildings.  And I only slid about an inch on one of those thick ice patches at a corner.

THUD.  My head crashes to my desk.  I lift my head.  THUD.  My head crashes again.  This feels so much better than what I am hearing on the other end of the phone call.

Do you need me to pick up anything for you for dinner?

Oh, no, after I came back from my check-up, I rested, and then I went down to the bagel store and over to the supermarket and bought what I need.

Ok, my 90+ year-old dad carried groceries over icy streets.  He is fine.

He sounded exhilarated, in fact.  Maybe because he is 90 years-old and can still take care of himself (on a day-to-day basis, at least).

Me?  I have grayer hair.  Maybe I am scared because one day he won’t be able to.

Elements of Life

POB (partner of blogger) and SOPOBAB (son of POB and blogger) went to the Natural History Museum today, while I stayed home, still on the “injured list” nursing my still aching back and trying not to feel useless and a slacker (it is ok to be a slacker when you’re not sick or hurt).

They returned in the mid-afternoon and SOPOBAB was so excited.  Not only did POB tell him that we got him the Clone Wars movie, so he would have something special to do while POB and I entertained some out-of-town guests tonight, but he got a new place mat of the Periodic Table in all these cool colors with all these things that were new to him.  “E-Mom, I never even HEARD of some of these things!!”

So we looked at the Periodic Table (click on it) together.

Apparently, when POB and SOPOBAB were purchasing it, SOPOBAB asked about hydrogen and helium, the first two elements, and why they were listed.  POB said that the table represented things that are not made of anything else, like a prime number.  And these were the basic building blocks of everything.  And, that two hydrogen molecules together with an oxygen molecule make water.  And that sodium chloride together make salt.

SOPOBAB got excited. Where are the french fries on the chart?

One person’s element of life is another person’s arterial occlusion.

Later, when we were going over the table together, he said, “E-Mom, I have bad news for you.  French fries are not an element, YET.”

Fitch Downgrades Egypt

“Tarek El-Tablawy, AP Business Writer, On Friday January 28, 2011, 2:20 pm

CAIRO (AP) — Fitch Rating on Friday revised down its outlook for Egypt, dropping it to “negative” as mass protests in the country turned violent, engulfing the capital and other cities in the most serious challenge to President Hosni Mubarak’s regime in years.

Fitch said it was holding steady Egypt’s other ratings, including its long-term foreign currency issuer default rating, which was held at the investment grade BB+.”

*******************************************************************************************************

As an aside, rating agencies generally condoned the “froth” and the bubble that almost ruined us financially.

So, here is the picture:  Egyptians are taking to the streets against its government, the military is locking down cities, airports are closed, the opposition leader is under house arrest and Fitch downgrades Egypt’s “outlook”.  But Egypt’s debt paying ability is holding steady, thank G-d.  That totalitarianism for you.   Because even though people are protesting and dying for change, the bills still get paid and the palace is still resplendent.  And no situation is negative until the financial markets say so. I think that is what we have learned from these last three years.

I wonder how many people are reading the articles about the protests, etc., and how many are reading about the financial impact on debt holders.  I don’t want to know the answer, because Jack Nicholson was right in a Few Good Men, I can’t handle the truth.

WTF?

This is now our national discourse?  WTF?  How about if you don’t like what you hear, instead of tearing it down, Build It, Tough CHick.

Ugh, I have stooped to her level.  Soon I’ll be sending my son to appear on Dancing With Famous People’s Children who should be home taking care of their love children.

But the person who out-Sarahs Sarah is Michele Bachmann.  Our founding fathers fought to end slavery?  Ever hear of the 3/5th Compromise in the Constitution that effectively legitimized slavery and kicked the issue down the road for a century?

Everyone has a right to an opinion.  And I have a right to determine that someone’s opinion is stupid, ill-informed and baseless.  And I have the right to believe that a scholar’s view has more weight than someone’s who has not studied the topic and relies on talking heads (on any network) for opinions.

WTF, indeed.  As in:  “Sarah Palin??? WTF is that Grizzly Mama saying?”

Calm in between the Storms

New York, along with most of the rest of the country is under a siege of extreme weather conditions. (Can you sa-a-ay, “global warming”?  I knew you could.)

I think it is part of the human condition to look at events like sappy metaphors.  (Proof positive: the popularity of Made-For-Lifetime-Channel movies.)

So, I think about enjoying the respites between the real snow storms as a reminder that we must enjoy the respites between life’s storms.  There are more and more challenges and less and less easy answers.  There is so much uncertainty about jobs, about global threats, about economic, social and emotional recovery in this nation.  As we get older, we understand that good health is a gift and not a right, and that our days are numbered whether they be measured in days or decades.

Now, I look for the small moments, not the big triumphs.   My son was so excited that I picked him up from school today (his babysitter flaked out a little).  He hugged me and introduced me around.  In the cab (of course, I am such a princess), he said, “E-Mom, this is maybe the best part of today.” I wanted to bottle that (even with the “maybe” qualifier). I wanted to record it to play it back when he is a teenager and he hates me.  No such luck (or quick thinking).  But what a beautiful moment in the middle of the calamity we call the “new normal”.

My son has already forgotten those words, but for me, for me, it made me feel as if all was right with the world.