Joe Jackson - Steppin' Out

If there was ever a song that brings me right back to NYC during the 1980s, this is it. I remember the anticipation and the wonder attached to each venture out into the world of Manhattan on the weekends. Finding a place to dance was foremost in our minds, and the Limelight was the place to go to dance during the 1980s. We tried other dance clubs and discos as well, but always came back to the Limelight. I remember one evening when I was dressed to the nines and out on a date with a colleague who was also dressed to the nines. We were picked out of the crowd waiting to get into the Limelight, to visit their VIP room. I hardly remember what was so special about that room, just that I thought it was so much fun to have been chosen. I remember that I was wearing a Betsey Johnson dress that I loved and bright pink high-heeled shoes that were originally part of a bridesmaid ensemble. My date didn't like my shoes, but I didn't care, I wore them anyway. Those days were fun and adventurous, and to my mind, part of everything that makes those years in Manhattan special to me. I suppose one might call it nostalgia, but I just prefer to call them fun memories. No going back to those days, but when I think about how much I loved to go out dancing, those memories immediately come to mind. 

No comments needed

 Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis 

One of my two favorite comic strips these days; the other one is Peanuts. The latter was first published in 1950 and continued until Charles Schulz's death in 2000; it is amazingly relevant even though it's over seventy years old. 

Makes sense to me

Four by the Edgar Winter group

If you've never heard The Edgar Winter Group before, here's your chance. A great rock group from the 1970s......Their album, Shock Treatment from 1974, contains the following four songs that I personally love. Enjoy......

Easy Street - Edgar Winter group

Someone Take My Heart Away - Edgar Winter Group

Sundown - Edgar Winter Group

Miracle Of Love - Edgar Winter Group

The Church of St. Vincent de Paul

Whenever Jean and I are in Albany NY to visit our friend Maria, we go to Sunday mass at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul which describes itself as 'a place of courageous hospitality'. God knows that we need more courageous hospitality in the current political climate. The church is a welcoming place that practices what it preaches. You feel welcome there almost immediately as you step in the door, connected to the others around you. Parishioners sit in a circle around the altar that is placed in the middle. There is nothing old-school about this church, so those looking for an old-fashioned approach to mass and the church would be better served elsewhere. I happen to prefer this newer approach where parishioners are actively involved in the mass and have access to the altar. Some prefer more distance and I respect that too. In fact, I have no problems with either one, since my church in Oslo is more old-school and reserved, and I like being there too. But if you are alone in the world, or if you feel lonely, you might prefer a more open and connected church. Elizabeth Simcoe, the Parish Life Director, has this to say in the church brochure regarding the church's goal of hospitality and inclusivity: 

"Welcome to all, especially visitors, pilgrims and those seeking a spiritual home. We are glad you have found the Church of St. Vincent de Paul. We hope you will experience it as a community that is hospitable, prayerful, inclusive and committed to serving our neighbors". 

St. Vincent de Paul said the following: 

"Make it a practice to judge persons and things in the most favorable light at all times and under all circumstances". 

Again, a tall order in this world of ours. It means meeting strangers and people generally with an open mind and love in your heart. How many of us are able to do that? How many of us want to do that? In the brochure that describes the parish, there is another quote from Hebrews 13:1-2:

"Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels". 

Imagine that, that one may have entertained angels. It's a wonderful thought. Imagine too that our kindness toward another person may have resulted in that person finding the light they sought, finding the peace he or she desired, finding the gift of faith. Nothing more is asked of us than that we love our neighbor as ourself. I think it means being kind to others and since there is so little kindness in the world now, perhaps we could just start there, by making an effort to be kind when we really don't feel like it. That might go a long way toward restoring some amount of civility and respect in a world that seems to revel in the fact that they are long-gone, at least in the public and political arenas. 

Living through your phone

Yet another apt commentary from my favorite comic strip......

Celebrating fifty years in America

Apropos my last post, my friend Haika’s husband Ashok is celebrating fifty years since his arrival in the USA from India. He moved to the USA to start a new life, and he succeeded. He chose to celebrate by recreating his exact travel route to America in 1975 and then once in America, by reading the poem The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus. This poem is featured on the base of the Statue of Liberty. This is what America has meant and means to him. This is what the Statue of Liberty represents--a welcome to immigrants. 

Ashok at JFK 08-25-25.mp4 - Google Drive

Give me your tired, your poor

Emma Lazarus wrote this sonnet in 1883, and in 1903 the poem was cast onto a bronze plaque that was mounted inside the lower level of the Statue of Liberty's pedestal. We know parts of this poem since it is associated with the Statue of Liberty, which is one of the first sights immigrants see and saw when they first arrived in America. 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore'--these are the lines that most people are familiar with and that represent what America stands for and stood for a century ago. This is the entire poem: 

The New Colossus

by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Copyright Credit: n/a

Source: Emma Lazarus: Selected Poems and Other Writings (2002)

Staying positive during and after illness

A number of friends have commented on my positive approach to life in light of the serious operation I underwent in April. What I know is that I was one of the lucky ones--operated on about a week after my diagnosis and extensive testing--and a three-month recovery that was not fraught with major problems. I was well-treated by the healthcare system in this country, and from my conversations with others who have experienced the system, I had an excellent experience. I am thankful for that. Because had I landed on a long waiting list for an operation, I may not have concluded thusly. And I probably would not be doing well at all. 

The positivity comes from knowing that my diagnosis was correct and that the resultant surgery was successful. None of these things is a given, especially the latter. The tests I went through were extensive and difficult, but tolerable. The mitral valve repair surgery that I underwent is at present fairly routine, but still, there are always risks with any kind of surgery where anesthesia is involved. I knew beforehand that my quality of life without surgery would be null. So there was no question in my mind that surgery was my only option. I wasn't afraid of it. I was rather afraid of not having it soon enough, because my quality of life prior to surgery was poor. I couldn't sleep and I had a hard time breathing properly. You don't live long with those symptoms--all signs of congestive heart failure. 

I am a scientist by training and a fairly pragmatic person. I understand the pros and cons involved in most medical procedures and I can discuss them rationally with the doctors and nurses. I was interested in my condition and in the different types of testing, and told them so. So they weren't afraid to be open about aspects of my treatment that they may not have discussed with another type of patient. There are some people who don't want to know any of the details, and that also has to be respected. But I wanted to know. 

So my positivity evolved out of the knowledge that my only option was surgery, and that it went well. I am grateful for a second chance in life. My brush with mortality has taught me to be grateful for every single day, and to be grateful for my husband and the friends who have remained in my life. There are people who distance themselves from you when you become ill. Perhaps they think you will ask them for help, or perhaps they are scared for themselves. In any case, I am happy to be together with those I can call real friends. With them, I can let down my guard and they know that I can tell them that I have good days and bad days. But the good days far outweigh the bad ones, and knowing that makes me smile. 

The great divide

Parable is a poem I wrote many years ago--my reflections on the great divide between the wealthy and the poor, inspired by the parable in the New Testament about the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31 NIV - The Rich Man and Lazarus - “There was - Bible Gateway)

Parable

Lazarus in the street,
While in the penthouses above
The glitterati meet.
In the end I left
The glamour, the effete chic.
(Not that I belonged).
‘City of vipers’--
Women poised like cobras,
Bedecked in jewels and haughty crowns,
Ready to strike, tongues flicking.
Gold lame skins rise and fall
With their breathing.
Fixing you with their stares.
Outside the frost-edged window
Awaits the city---
The viper rich indoors
See it not, nor feel.
Teeth flash, capped, even, gleaming--
Fangs for the night about to end
About to start
That never ends, for reality 
Is a party, a toss of the coin--
One more Lazarus for the gutter,
One more snake for the pit. 

from Parables and Voices: A Collection of Poems 1973-2009: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9781452838762: Amazon.com: Books

All rights reserved. Copyright Paula Mary De Angelis

Autumn and moving on

I have begun to wake up around 7 am, a very peaceful time of day. There is some noise outdoors--garbage collection, children crying because they don't want to go to daycare--those kinds of things. Nothing that is irritating. We have had a wonderful summer--sunny, warm, and pleasant. There have been intervals with rain, but they don't last very long before we're back to sunshine. I've loved every waking minute of it. When I wake up, I thank God for another day of life, and then putter about until my husband gets up. I get an early start on most household chores, which I like a lot. 

I love this time of year--the transition from summer to autumn. It's still warm during the day, but chilly at night. Great for sleeping. I don't always sleep straight through the night until morning, but no matter. I know that I can catch up on some sleep during the day. My first thought upon waking is often my garden. I so look forward to being there. Today is one of those days where I know I can be in my garden undisturbed by obligations and chores. I'm done with most of the garden chores--harvesting, pruning the berry bushes, cutting the grass, and planting new perennials. I'll plant garlic cloves at the end of September as well as some tulip bulbs and the like. The major garden cleanup can wait until spring; that way the birds and insects have plants to feed upon during the winter months. There are so many birds, bees, and butterflies in the garden at present. I love seeing them there. 

When the sun shines like it does today, I feel happy and free. When I get to the garden, perhaps I'll continue reading one of the books I started months ago. I did that on Sunday when we had Visitors Day in the garden. I haven't felt much like reading since my operation, but the desire is slowly returning. Visitors Day was enjoyable; I met many people who visited my garden, and we talked about plants and being on the waiting list to get an allotment garden. Several people commented on how beautiful my garden is. I thanked them. It is a beautiful garden that I've poured my heart and soul into. I'm proud of the results, but I know that none of it would have been possible without God's help. He has been with me every step of the way, and I feel that even more since my operation. Just knowing that I could return to working in my garden was a major goal during my recovery. It waited for me and took care of itself while I was ill. That's the beauty of a (mostly) perennial garden. Eventually the only thing you really need to do is water the garden a few times a week. 

I could focus on a few negative things that have happened recently, but I won't. Suffice it to say that I've learned who my real friends are, and I'm intentionally moving on from those who are not. People show you their true colors, especially when you are ill. My husband commented recently on the few friends here who showed up for me. It's not that they could help me very much--he has helped me the most--but they visited, took contact, sent get-well cards or bought me flowers. It meant and means a great deal to me. Just to be able to talk about what I went through and to let it out, has been a relief for me. A relief that some people would actually listen to me without wanting to jump in immediately and tell me that it's all going to be fine. A relief that some people made time for me. I will forever treasure how I was treated by the doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, and the health personnel generally. Their kindness stands out and washes away the carelessness of the so-called friends who are not friends. I choose to focus on the positive, and have support for that approach from Matthew Kelly's book The Fourth Quarter of Your Life: Embracing What Matters Most. It is truly a wonderful book about how to approach getting older/old, and I recommend it for anyone over fifty years of age. The wisdom contained in its pages is priceless. Old age is often referred to as the autumn and/or winter of life. It's fitting that I finished the book as we prepare for the autumn season. Reading the book freed me from worrying about how to deal with certain situations. I've made some intentional decisions and have let go of what hurt me or made me sad. Life is too short to focus on the callousness of others. I am not callous nor will I ever be. Society encourages that now, but it hasn't changed me. What matters most is how we love others, and also ourselves. What matters most is integrity and remaining true to our values and the voice in our soul that guides us onward in life.