"You've Got Mail!"

I'm watching "You've Got Mail" on AMC. It's a holiday movie. I love "You've Got Mail." Yes, I love Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks and "Sleepless in Seattle." And I love book stores of all kinds. Big, little, with or without coffee shops... but most of all I love my old 'hood.
(H&H Bagels-- look, it's H&H!)
The entire movie was shot on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I lived at 96th and Columbus for 12 years. The neighborhood changed a lot-- when I moved in, 96th Street was like the final frontier. Go north-- sketchy 'til you got to Columbia. Go South-- classic Upper West Side: restaurants, delis, small stores and more and more boutiques the farther south you went. By the time I moved to the 'burbs, gentrification north of 96th street had brought new businesses to Columbus and Amsterdam... It was safer, but it sort of lost some of its character.
I loved Shakespeare & Co. It was the famous not-so-little book store in my 'hood. I lived on the Upper West Side when Barnes & Noble opened its first store in Manhattan.
It was Fox's in the movie. Everyone thought that B&N would kill Shakespeare & Co.-- as Fox's was going to kill the Shop Around the Corner in the movie. Actually it was Manhattan's rising real estate prices that killed it-- to which maybe B&N contributed indirectly.
(Zabar's-- they just showed Zabar's. I loved Zabar's, too.)
I love this movie-- for the memories, the romance, AND the books!

Caving or compromise?

Is there a difference between caving and compromise?
I found myself getting mad at President Obama last week for caving into Republican demands for an extension of the Bush tax credits in exchange for extending jobless benefits. I couldn't understand why he caved on the tax credit issue--- the part about letting the credits expire for only those in the top economic tier, an issue he campaigned on two years ago. I wanted more backbone, more stick-to-it-iveness. We're told it's a compromise, a way for the Administration to get through an extension of jobless benefits-- a give-and-take. But I still wasn't satisfied. People who can't find a job in this economy are more the rule than the exception. It takes longer, and when they do find one, it usually pays less than the one they had, and probably doesn't come with the benefits they had with their previous job either.
People who make $500K or more a year won't get hurt if their taxes go up. People who lose their unemployment benefits (and the health insurance that goes with it) will.
This week, I'm beoming a little more sympathetic with the President's stand. My daughter wants a cell phone for Christmas. She's not getting one. I thought I'd get her the very expensive boots she wants instead. She's lobbied for them before-- unsuccessfully. As my husband and I explained to her and her siblings, we're open to well-reasoned arguments for almost anything, but since our house is run as a beneficent (and financially strapped)dictatorship, we get the last word.
Now I find myself caving into her arguments. But it's not caving, is it? It's a compromise, right? Even though the boots won't keep her feet dry (we live in the snow belt, remember?) and have no support for her still-growing feet, I'll get her the boots to make me feel better about the fact that she's not getting a phone.
Or, not. I still haven't made a decision. I wish I had a Congressional committee to consult...

Moms: Just Say No! (or Not)

An article in yesterday's New York Times piqued my interest. It seems that many moms are feeling overwhelmed and stressed out, not by their family's finances or a loved one's illness, but rather by volunteering too much and too often in their children's schools.
I'm a compulsive volunteer. I sit and lead committees in both the elementary and middle school PTSAs. I teach religion and am on the board of a local light opera company (not because I'm a big donor, but because I can "communicate".) My husband and I volunteer to help out with each sport (soccer, baseball, softball) or activity (choirs, community theater) my kids are involved in.
I could just say no. To all of it. And if I worked full time, I probably would cut back-- a little. But, maybe naively, I think you need to help out if you expect others to help you when you need it. I want my kids to understand that.
And if you're involved, you have more of a voice in how things are done. You have more of a right to complain when things aren't what they should be.
I wrangle volunteers for middle school activity nights. Many parents say they can't help out because their child doesn't want them to be there. It's not cool to hang with your friends under your parents' watchful eye... Really, who is the parent here? My daughter doesn't have a choice. I want to see her with her friends and keep an eye on the middle school scene. And, once at the event, she doesn't seem to mind. More importantly, if parents don't show up, there is no activity night. That may be OK-- it's not like activity night participation will get your kid into a good college-- but I think the kids lose out.
There are certainly very late nights or very early mornings when I'm putting together the school newsletter that I would like to throw my computer against the wall, wondering why I decided to volunteer for that particular job. And it's never fun avoiding my husband's rolling eyes after I tell him of yet another thing I've volunteered (or volunteered our entire family) for. But you get as much out of something as you put in...
Yikes-- gotta go make a "healthy" treat for my son's holiday celebration.

It's gone!

For as long as I can remember I've had a callous on the side of my right middle finger, probably a result of holding a pen or pencil too tight when writing.
Recently I noticed that the callous was gone. I rarely write anymore-- in the sense of using a writing implement, that is. In some ways I write more than ever. I correspond with friends through e-mail or Facebook. I blog. I take notes at meetings. I develop content for web sites and print materials. But I hardly ever use a pen! I do all my writing on the computer.
I don't have callouses (yet) on my finger tips. I don't do a lot of texting on my phone, but I wonder if those who do actually have callouses on their thumbs?
Will my kids have calloused thumbs from constantly texting their friends?
The callous is gone, and I kind of miss it!

Homework Hell

My middle schooler is still up. It's 9:51 p.m. and she hasn't done her math homework yet.
Instead of making her stay home and get it done, I let her and her friend head to the store to buy things for their Halloween costumes. Of course they got back later than I anticipated. And now she's still up.
It's not that late, you say. Oh, yes, it is! Particularly if she has to be up at 5:45 to shower, dress, eat breakfast and actually make it to the bus stop on time! Nevermind that she's keeping me up, too-- and I also have to get up with her at 5:45 just to make sure she gets out the door.
Luckily, academics are fairly easy for her. Like her mother, she loves to be busy and is constantly signing up for activities she just doesn't have time for.
I don't remember having as much to do as she does, though.
I made it out of middle school and high school, and did OK. I'm sure she will, too. In the meantime, what is she still doing up?

As each miner in the little cartoon-like rescue capsule surfaced, cheers erupted and the world wept tears of joy... finally, some good news. It's amazing how starved we all are for good news. The miners' story had nothing to do with a global recession or global warming or greedy banks or intertribal strife or terrorism. Their story was one of incredible survival, of determination and discipline in the face of odds stacked so high against them you'd think giving up would have been the only option.
Yet, they persevered, and so did the people who worked so feverishly to get them out.
It's a story of human strength, faith and, yes, love.
As an aside, last night I turned to my usual news source in times of breaking developments: CNN, As the last miner emerged to the waiting arms of his family and the tear-y smiling face of his country's president, CNN allowed Larry King and his guest for the night-- the ever-cynical Michael Moore-- to continue talking... Michael Moore can't say anything good about anything good. It's not in his nature to concede that humans may actually be capable of coming together to work a seeming miracle... I had to change the channel, and may be off CNN for good.
Granted, the miners are victims of our ever-expanding demand for natural resources, supplied by an ever-greedier corporate culture that will cut corners, even those that put the lives of their workers at risk. But in that moment all that mattered was that somehow, some way, these 33 men survived in and emerged from hell-- and we're all better for it.

I had one of those experiences yesterday that renews your faith in your fellow man...
After a great lunch with a friend and mentor, I headed out to run errands before meeting my kids at their bus. On my way to a neighboring town, I heard a "whoompf" coming from the rear of my car. Within a half mile, my right rear tire was completely flat and my mini-van was riding on the wheel's rim. Luckily, I was near a commercial intersection and was able to pull into a parking lot to get out of traffic.
I called our insurance company's roadside assistance, only to find out the car wasn't in the system (it should have been-- our insurance was up-to-date), and even if it was, it would be an hour before anyone could get to me. Across the street was a service station. I walked over and asked the guys working there if they could help. They told me to drive the car over and they'd see what they could do.
Within minutes, Chris, the guy in the oil-stained overalls, had my car jacked up and the wheel off the car. While he was doing that, I hit the car's owner's manual to see how to get out the spare. I pulled up the rug in the back seat of the van to release the spare which should have been screwed under the car, but there WAS NO SPARE. Chris politely reminded me that Toyota Siennas these days come with "run flat" tires, and that often there is no spare.
I felt like an idiot-- and then it all came back to me. Our 2008 mini-van needed new tires last winter, just 2 1/2 years after we bought it. Those fabulous "run flat" tires didn't last long, and the replacements were $1000. Too rich for our blood. So we opted for the less expensive, may-get-flat-if- punctured model. It never occurred to us that the car didn't come with a spare tire!
Chris looked at the tire and told me he could fix it. He took it in the garage, plugged the hole, filled it with air, replaced it on the car... done. "How much do I owe you?," I asked, the former N.Y. City girl inside of me sure that I was about to seriously get ripped off. "$12," he replied.
My reaction was one of stunned and grateful silence as I took a $20 bill out of my wallet and gave it to him.
I head to my original destination, a gift store nearby. As I'm making my purchase, I converse with the owner and share my adventure. She immediately knew who I was talking about. She had had the same pleasant experience with Chris...
SO, if you have car trouble-- find Chris at Pen-Fair Service on the corner of Penfield and Five Mile Line roads. My husband always says, if you have something nice to say-- SAY IT!

Rochester Fashion: Not an Oxymoron!

Rochester's first ever Fashion Week debuted last Thursday with a "Boutique Crawl." It was like a pub crawl but with sequins and stilettos instead of beer and wings.
I joined the "crawl" downtown at Eye Candy, a new-ish boutique for Rochester hipsters. While the clothes on the whole were lovely, what fasinated me most was the crowd. Old, young, male, female; gay, straight; pierced and tatooed artists along with Eastside housewives; people from every ethnicity and background-- they were all there to toast Rochester's young designers and creativity.
I've attended art openings, concerts and theater events, and have never seen a crowd quite like it!
Wrapped up as I am in the ebb and flow of my kids activities-- artistic, academic, athletic-- it was such a reminder to me that while Rochester is a small city, it is not homogenious. Here's hoping that future events bring together this same variety of Rochester's population!

All men are created equal...

Why is it that we insist on finding people or classes of people we can disdain, or to whom we can feel superior?

All the vitriol surrounding the propsed mosque at Ground Zero in the shadow of the anniversary of 9/11 on Saturday is making me nuts.

We are supposed to be better than this. In the short history of our country, people who have been shunned in their homeland would come to the United States seeking a better way of life for their families, seeking equality and opportunity. At first, many considered them ignorant or dirty or somehow "less." ("No Irish need apply.") Hard work and personal connection changed the perception over time.... lessons were learned. But apparently they've been forgotten.

Nicholas Kristof wrote in the New York Times on Wednesday about two Jewish women whose husbands were killed on 9/11-- both women were pregnant at the time-- who have gone on to truly "turn the other cheek." They're turning an act of hate and violence into an amazing act of positively "paying it forward." They established a foundation to encourage Afghan women to start their own businesses-- to empower them and allow them to make their own way.

I'm hopeful that the vitriol will lead more rational people to step up and take a stand against bigotry and for equality... It's NOT about the building of a mosque near Ground Zero. It's about fear, and worry that somehow what we have materially is threatened. The fact that we can all yell and shout and cry about it is good, but violence against another's culture or religion is not the answer.

The "On Ramp"

As a former journalist and current stay-at-home mom of 4, job hunting is a start-and-stop process. The motivation level waxes and wanes with the seasonal changes in schools, camps, sports, etc. The desire to get back to work, sooner rather than later, never changes.
What's changed since I last looked for a job? The biggest difference is the use of on-line job listings and application processes. If you have a somewhat unique background, the on-line application forms are a disadvantage.
Colleges accepting what used to be known as the common application received more applicants. That doesn't mean the quality of the applicants was any higher; it just means that there were more applications for the admissions office to go through (and that the college's published acceptance rates in the end seem more selective.) I think it's the same with these on-line applications: HR receives boatloads of applications-- doesn't mean the applicants are more qualified; there are just more of them. And if what makes you the right person for the job can't be summed up in the key buzz words the computer looks for, your resume never reaches the real decision-maker's eyes.
Frustrating.
Right now I'm a square peg in a town of round holes...

I have enjoyed watching and cheering the Winter Olympics and the Olympians these last few weeks. I bit my nails and hollared when the US scored with 25 seconds to go in yesterday's big game. I cried with Joanie Rochette when she finished her short program. And my stomach hurt for the Georgian team when it lost its teammate and friend.

I looked forward to seeing the athletes in a more relaxed and joyful atmosphere at the Closing Ceremonies. It's one of my favorite television moments: the officials handing over the Olympic flag and flame to the next host city's mayor, the athletes-- this time not separated by nations but rather joining together to party and celebrate their accomplishments; the visible pride of the host nation's citizens...

Instead, I was gypped. By NBC-- and by Jerry Seinfeld. Instead of letting the emotions and energy flow 'til the end, the network cynically cut the party off at the knees to air a half-hour of what it hopes will be its next commercial hit. After encouraging me to buy into the athletes and the events they tackled for 17 days-- in spite of endless commercials and promos-- NBC wouldn't give me the satisfaction of seeing these same athletes finish out their Olympics. Rather, I COULD-- if I stayed up past midnight, certainly something my tween-aged daughter could not do.

So I didn't get to see Alannis Morrisette and Avril LaVigne and the athletes dancing and hugging. What did I miss, really? A feel-good opportunity that's way too rare in these days of devestating earthquakes, mounting bills and potential foreclosures. I think I missed a lot.

Snow day!

Living in Rochester, you get used to snow. It's there, you shovel it, the town plows, and it pretty much goes away-- though not as quickly as my husband would like. The panic in DC earlier this month gave us Upstaters the giggles. When I lived in NYC, snow was a treat. Central Park in the snow is beautiful and quiet and mysterious, a wonderful place to cross country ski. Snow made NYC seem like a much smaller place. The brave souls who ventured out on the slippery sidewalks and in the park shared a friendly comraderie, smiling and saying hello... I loved the snow in NY.

And I loved it in VT when I was in college. Those sunny, bright, over-exposed, sparkly days after a big snowfall... frigid but gorgeous.

The snow is falling here today, in what is supposed to be the storm of the Rochester season. So far, it's a little disappointing. All the storms this season seem to have gone south of us, or east of us, or west of us. I'm probably begging the fates to hand us a whopper, but I wouldn't mind enough snow for my kids to have a snow day. There's nothing like the feeling of waking up in the morning to snow piled up against the door and the voice on the radio reading your school district's name on the closing list... it's not unlike that Christmas morning rush of euphoria, only there is no wrapping paper to get rid of.

You're not alone....

I got an e-mail from a friend last night. She's depressed, worried that at mid-life she isn't where she should be, overwhelmed by day-to-day stressors that seem to grow as each day passes.
I told her I could relate to her frustration. I wonder how many of us are at a place in our lives that actually matches the expectations we had when we were younger? Some things in my life have turned out as I hoped: I'm married with children and we live in a house in a good school district. Those are important things.
But there's an on-going dissatisfaction with the passage of time-- the feeling that there was supposed to be something more, something greater I should have accomplished by now. Was it writing a screenplay? Earning an Emmy? Actually, in my case, all I really hoped for was a succeesful work-life balance: a satisfying career -- with a temporary step away to parent my preschoolers-- and happy homelife. Wierdly, that goal seems more unobtainable than the Emmy. Too much gets in the way: the car breaks down and needs an expensive new transmission; a planned addition to the house costs way more than anticipated and leads to crushing debt; income is unpredictable and health insurance more and more costly...
As the old saying goes: "At least we have our health."
As we get older, I think we wind down our own aspirations and replace them with aspirations for our kids. I want my children to have experiences, not stuff. To be everything they can be-- while understading the need to help others along the way. When I get too wrapped up in my own dissatisfaction, I try to remember that crabby moms create crabby kids... and they don't need that.
I think I still have great things to accomplish. This blog is one way of getting me there. And in the meantime, I still have my health! Fingers crossed!

Gotta start somewhere....

So often, my husband Frank and I read what someone else has written about various topics du jour... and we say "that's our column!" Or "we should have written that!" So now I will... regardless of whether anyone is there to read it!
I'm a writer. It's what I do; it's what I know how to do. It's a marketable skill-- or so "they" say. We'll see. In the meantime, I'll write about what piques my interest. I'll write every day. Politics (from the common sense angle), media (the good, the bad, the ugly!), my family (my kids will hate me for this), education, arts, the outdoors.... I want to write about it all.
Wish me luck!