MENTORING

Through the years when I’d run a committee or an organization, I would always try to teach other members how to do my job. I guess you could say I was a mentor.

As an example, when I ran a large costume ball, during the second year I found a co-chair who would work with me and learn how to run the event the following year so that I could step down. I was always available to give direction if needed.

I did the same thing when running the musicians hospitality committee for the local jazz festival. As part of the yearlong Task Force, I learned how to find free food for two hundred or more artists which was part of their contracts over the course of four days. After visiting restaurants and grocery stores as well as the venders, who contracted to sell their restaurant food in booths at the event, I was able to get donated food. When I decided to step down as chair after being on the committee for seven years, and running it for four of those years, I found a co-chair who would work with me to handle the following year’s event.

The same is true of the card, singing and theater groups which ended up as my responsibility. I always felt that it was necessary to have a successor for any position I’ve held. I never felt the necessity of staying with a group just because I was elected or asked to run it. I’ve always been happy to go on to something different.

If only politicians would feel the same way. It’s not necessary to stay in office because they feel no one else can do it better or maybe until their sons or daughters could get enough recognition to run for the same office when Dad left the government with a lovely retirement plan.

People with enormous egos never learn when to let go.

A ONCE IN A LIFETIME EXPERIENCE

When I was in my late 60’s, for the first and only time in my life I was called for jury duty. I showed up at the appointed time and was shown to the courtroom where prospective jurors would be questioned. That’s when we found out that in our room, we would be the one’s selected to serve on the Grand Jury which would handle only capital crimes and it would be necessary to be available one day a month for a full year.

There must have been at least thirty or more people attending and we were each questioned as to whether we had been in jail or had any family in jail, our views on lots of legal issues and whether we would be available for the full year.

Because I had my own car, I could handle that and as an old ambulance chaser, I relished being able to be in the “know” about all sorts of murders in our county. Naturally, I was one of about fifteen chosen. Twelve for the jury and the rest as alternates who must attend all the sessions and hear the same evidence as us, in case one of the regular ones couldn’t make it.

On our first appointed day, we all arrived as scheduled at the Grand Jury Courtroom. Firstly, as on every day we attended, there was an anti-room in which coffee and fresh donuts were available. We socialized for a while and got to know each other. We were all ages of working people as well as retirees. The head court judge welcomed us, explained our duties as we sat in our jury chairs, and we chose as our foreman a young man in his thirties.

Then we were left alone, until a young prosecuting attorney presented a case to us. As a jury in charge of capital crimes, that meant we would only handle murders. The attorney would tell of the circumstances, present evidence and we would hear from the coroner, a police officer, witness or anyone involved with the investigation.  We were encouraged to question them.  After hearing from these persons, we would be left alone to decide if there was enough evidence to indict the suspect or suspects. No one was allowed in the room with us while we made our decision and we were never allowed to reveal what went on in the jury room.

We would decide on three or four cases each month and I will tell you that it was unbelievable how many ways there are to commit murder with a knife. I don’t think we had many murderers that year that even used a gun. In the thirteen years since then it seems that guns are available on every street corner and that every murder is caused by a gun.

One witness had driven in a car with the defendant while the body of her friend, a fellow prostitute was in the trunk. She had strangled her before she had picked him up. I questioned him as to why he did nothing after finding out about the body and he was seemingly stupid, evasive and a druggie to boot. He also said he was horny and the car driver was available for sex. He had known her before. The police found them after the body was dumped in a canal and they were photographed near the scene when they stopped at a gas station.

We returned indictments in all the cases which is what happens in grand jury cases because you are presented with only the prosecution’s evidence and no defense arguments.

We were paid a few dollars for our year’s commitment during which we were able to meet the head judge, all the prosecuting attorneys and learn how not to commit a murder with a knife.  In the next upcoming year, we would be able to read about the trials of all our murderers in the newspaper.

I announced at the end of one of our sessions that I wouldn’t be able to attend the following month because on that day I would be flying home from Paris. No one said anything, so I said to them that I always wanted to say that and no one seemed to be impressed and that I was disappointed at their reaction. So they reacted for me. They were great people. It was a memorable experience!

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WHAT A YEAR!

Just when my life seemed to be ending with my eightieth birthday, new things started happening.

First there was my birthday celebration, where we all gathered at a resort for five days. A once in a lifetime thrill for me, as I’m sure the trip the previous year was for my husband. I’m constantly amazed that our children have become so accomplished and are able to do such things for us.

Then there was my blog’s first anniversary in September. I couldn’t have expected such response.

I was asked to chair a committee for redecorating our large clubhouse and established a friendship with an interior decorator who gave us an exciting plan. Hopefully, in the next few months it will be competed.

When I suggested an idea for an entertainment at our club house, I met with a group that does “old time radio shows”. They rehearse near our home, so I stopped to introduce myself and ask them to do a program for our “Good Times Club”. Because I already knew one couple there, I mentioned my desire to do scenes from two plays which I had planned to do for several years. Not knowing how to present them because they were scenes from very serious award winning dramas, one dealing with a woman planning to commit suicide, they sat in the drawer for years. The radio show people asked me to bring them to a rehearsal so my friend could read them with me. It turned out that the one we read was so powerful we decided to do it as a play reading vehicle for our whole community. Our readings will be done in March.

I realized my dream of having wood floors installed in our two bedrooms. I never liked the carpeting in them from the time we bought eight years ago. Next year maybe there’ll be new counters in the kitchen.

Once again we held a Christmas Eve celebration for all the family in our home. This time it was totally different for us all. We bought Chinese and instigated a “Yankee Swap” where everyone got one present instead the usual dozens. A few were not happy, but all said they would do it again next year, maybe with pizza.

Although we requested no presents for us, we received a pile of gift cards for restaurants in the area. Over the past year we started to eat out more so they were appreciated.

What can I say about the final gift which I received? I now have my second book in print, thanks again to my son. The first was my cooking memoir; now one hundred of my blogs are in a spiral bound copy. One of his employees worked until Christmas Eve to finish it, which she did in tears of frustration. From my first blog to the last on December 21^st. they are beautifully printed with illustrations. (Of course, you can’t buy it at your local book store.) I was astounded!

What a year I’ve had. I’m so blessed.

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GREETINGS

I wish a happy and prosperous new year to all my worldwide friends. Peace to all of you.

Also I send a special greeting to our grandson on an island in the South Pacific which has no electricity. Maybe with the use the solar lanterns he will be able to receive this message. We enjoyed our special time with him at Christmas.

CHRISTMAS EVE DAY

Today I checked a “for sale ad” column in my local newspaper to take stock of what I learned earlier this year. Under the heading of “Sporting Goods and Services”, I counted 45 out of 69 ads listing guns for sale by individuals as well as gun shops.

I also read in todays’ paper of the various murders and shootings which took place yesterday and the days before, including the “shooting in the head” death of one more policeman.

Every time I read of such terrible things committed by someone still in their teens, I wonder if this is how they managed to get their hands on a gun simply by buying it from want ads in my local newspaper.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

There is one repentant Republican that I know of. Do you remember Lee Atwater? Maybe you don’t. Well to remind you, he’s the god-father of dirty politics. Everything dirty in George W. Bush’s campaign for president can be laid at his feet. Karl Rove was his protégé and continues his heritage today.

Living in Columbia, South Carolina, we were witnesses to the start of his tactics. Lee was raised in South Carolina, went to school there and is buried in Columbia. John McCain was a candidate in that presidential election and there was so many dirty rumors about McCain all laid at the feet of the blues musician, Atwater. I kept hoping someone with ethics would stop it, but it continued and was relished by Bush. He couldn’t run on his record as a drinker and druggie, so lies were created to make him look good by comparison. Finding God really helped there, too.

Here is something you probably weren’t aware of or maybe forgot. Lee Atwater died at the age of forty. After being diagnosed with a brain tumor, before he died he publicly renounced what he had been doing.  A Roman Catholic convert, he apparently developed a conscience, unfortunately the man known as the “Boogie Man” had opened a Pandora’s Box and all that nasty stuff continues today.

PS: This was all ready for posting when I happened to see an interview with Newt Gingrich this morning where he complained about all the negative advertisements about himself.  What ye sow so shall ye reap.

A GOOD LAUGH

On day one, I drank from a gallon container a liquid of something or other ordered by my doctor, a full eight ounce glass of it every ten to fifteen minutes. It was difficult after the first few. Starting at noon until I finished about three o’clock after throwing up twice, I felt as though the worst was over. It wasn’t, but we won’t discuss those things.

On day two, we arrived at the doctor’s surgery center for the two procedures, upper and lower GI’s. I was prepared by the nurse and given an EKG, which made me very happy because I hadn’t had one in many years. Although I had only seen the doctor the previous week to discuss my swallowing difficulty and expecting to have my esophagus stretched, he suggested I also have a colonoscopy. After checking with my primary care, I reluctantly agreed.

I was glad when I was finally sedated hoping the worst would soon be over. I woke up with tremendous stomach pains, a very sore throat and as well as a sore upper lip. The nurse informed me that a polyp was removed and that I had diverticulitus. The stomach pain was only gas, but I would soon get rid of that. The sore throat would last only a day or so.

When washing my hands at home, I looked in the mirror and saw how horrible I looked. Very pale and not exactly looking like myself, I thought how something like this could really age a person. I kept feeling uncomfortable about my upper lip and I looked in the mirror again to see myself and burst out laughing. No wonder I didn’t look like myself, my upper lip was humongous.

By the third day, my gas was gone, my sore throat was gone and I could eat almost normally, but laughed when I saw my upper lip was still swollen.

Today day four, I’m going to a party. All is well.