Author Archive
Seems Easy, But …
Posted on: November 18, 2025
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I just issued myself a challenge: At some point within the next week, I will go an entire day – the whole 24 hours – without spending any money. Ongoing subscriptions and automatic deductions don’t count. I mean, I will not reach into my wallet, my bank account or my plastic and BUY anything. Not online, not in a store, not that cute little Kind Mini Bar at a checkout station at a store that I will not being making any other purchase.
Sounds easy, yeah? Except for one thing … I honestly can’t remember the last time that has happened.
Sigh…
Can you do it? I challenge you!
PS: I’ll post my results by next week.
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Right now I’m watching part two of the Billy Joel documentary “And So It Goes.” The first part was great and this may be even better. But I had to stop for a minute. He’s talking about his successful grandfather’s life as a non-practicing Jew in Hitler Germany. Apparently the “non-practicing” part had no effect on the degree to which he was discriminated. Not only was he forced to give up his textile business, but he also managed to quietly leave the country, and barely avoided the concentration camps.
I had to hit the pause button. Why? Not just to absorb the story, but to once again wonder – why are nearly half the “good people” of the United States not making the connection between the parallel of where our country is right now, at this moment and Nazi Germany? Why are they not seeing it? I don’t understand. Avoiding cognitive dissonance? Too much social media? Fear? Bingo. I think that last one may have taken hold of more people “in the middle” than they’d like to admit.
And then there’s the thought that keeps me up at night: What should I do? What is my specific role right now?
So far, all I’ve managed to do is figure out what ISN’T my role. Everyone plays a different part, but I know that my part is NOT to:
- Rail on about things on social media
- Take a stand that radically pushes us farther apart
Beyond that?
I simply don’t know.
I’ve considered boycotting all the @$$hole businesses who have put greed above what’s right (networks, Amazon, social media empires, and so many more) but I don’t believe there could ever be enough numbers to even make a whiff of a difference.
I think the No Kings movement has potential. Not for our totally broken government, but for the big bucks industry folks to realize, “Wait. These are our consumers. Hmmmm.” Thus far I haven’t participated, due to hobbling around with a cane and very new knee the first time, and being committed to a district Rotary event this past Saturday.
Rotary. Now that’s a small part of what I CAN do. A service organization that does not take a stand on religion or politics is a great way to bring some good into the world. However, that alone is not enough.
Another route I’ve taken (and should put more energy into it) is focusing on politics on a more local level. I think individuals might have more impact on smaller races. And btw, although more often than not the candidates I vote for are Democrats, I also vote for Republicans who are moderate, supportive of human rights and (these days) not beholden to the current administration.
Those are nice little things, but still not enough.
Here’s my dilemma:
What I WANT to be is a little part of the mechanism that finds some bridges to help bring us together. And by “us” I mean the big middle. Yes, I am somewhat left of center. Yes, I could be considered a liberal. But that’s just me. Think of “the middle” as a broad width of moderates on both sides of an imaginary line. And THAT’s who I would like to bring together. Those on the far right and far left – I leave you for someone else to figure out.
I don’t know. I…just…don’t…know.
It would be so easy to just shake my head and then bury it in the sand. But I can’t.
So … I toss it out to the five people who read my blog (humor). Open to suggestions. Feel free to comment here or contact me privately. Thanks for listening. (Okay, reading but you know what I mean)
And watch the Billy Joel doc on HBO. It’s worth it. [Marti un-pauses it now]
Disco had its Moments…
Posted on: April 29, 2025
Like it or not, “Disco” was an experience shared by many of us in the late 70s, early 80s. Some of the songs were great (Donna Summer, Thelma Houston) and some were ridiculous (I’m looking at you, Disco Duck). But my favorite part was a phenomenon that happened in every disco, in every state. Picture this:
The Club is busy. People are drinking, laughing, talking. Some are dancing, others just watching it all. Then the sound system plays the recognizable keyboard run, following by Gloria Gaynor talk/singing “At first I was afraid, I was petrified, thinking I could never live without you by my side” while the percussion comes in with that heavy disco beat until Gloria begins really belting out I Will Survive. And by that time, the dance floor is full – of WOMEN! Oh, there’d be a few intrepid males dancing but mostly – I think we scared them. We danced, stomped, sang along with Gloria with focused determination – “Go on and go, turn around now and walk out that door, you’re not welcome anymore”- exorcising every break up, heartbreak or bad date to the best of our ability – for the whole 4 minutes and 56 seconds. Then we went back to our seats. Tired and happy. For years I thought of this as a rite of passage, frozen in the disco era.
So why am I writing about this now? Is something going on in my life that’s relevant? Nope. It’s because a thing just happened: A couple of hours ago, while queued up at Moo Moo Car Wash, I was listening to my Spotify playlist titled “Here Me Roar” and just as I was passing through the gate, I Will Survive came on my radio. Of course I cranked it to 11 and even though my windows were closed, I imagine most of Franklin County could hear it. As I pull up the the wash, a late 20s employee was waving her arms, directing my tires into the track. But then I realized she was also kind of swaying her body back and forth. Odd? Oh wait, she was upper body dancing to Gloria! So I grinned and did the same from inside my car and she grinned back. About then the office person, a 50ish woman, walked by and starting singing “I’ve got my life to live and all my love to give, I will survive, I will survive!” So for about half a minute, all three of us were boogeying along with Ms. Gaynor. It was the most fun thirty seconds of my day.
I guess some things are timeless…
Just a Thought …
Posted on: February 26, 2025
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Does anyone else wake up to an odd phrase or random thought? This morning it was “Time to release myself into the wild.” I’m not quite sure why that was on my brain or wtf it means. Maybe it has to do with watching S1Ep4 of Paradise right before falling asleep. My best guess – at least at the moment – is might be related to all the crap (even good crap) that influences our opinions, attitudes and what we “believe” about ourselves.
Who knows, lol.
As always, I’m open to your two cents’ worth. IM or direct messages are fine, for you reluctant sharers…
.
.
Tea Sets and a Teta
Posted on: February 6, 2025
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Five-year-old Marti Anne was a pretty savvy kid who had a fairly accurate BS detector even as a preschooler.
I had a whole slew of great 20-something aunts and uncles. I was one of the first of my generation (or, at least that lived locally) so I was like the family pet or plaything. In other words, I got LOTS of attention. One of my favorite aunts was the one I was named after – Aunt Mart. Or “Teta” Mart, if we want to be ethnically accurate.
During a 1959 December adventures, she let me peruse the toy section of The Hub, Steubenville’s flagship department store while she shopped nearby. After checking out all things Barbie, I joined her at the cash register and noticed the clerk wrapping a gorgeous “real china” child’s tea set, patterned after the fancy Blue Willow design. Oh my goodness.
“Aunt Mart, are you buying that?”
She hesitates. “Um, yeah. For some girl. I know her parents.”
I was stunned. How could she buy that for someone else? And who was this girl? I was hit with a wave of yuck that I later identified as jealousy. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a tea set like that? And more importantly, who was this … GIRL … who holds such a spot in MY AUNT’s heart? Finally the transaction was completed.
“Okay babe, let’s go to the Mezzanine for lunch. I’ll get you a chicken salad sandwich.”
Betrayal temporarily forgotten, I focused on the prospect of a chicken salad sandwich, a classy and rather exotic option in my young world.
If you remember, I said my childhood BS detector was FAIRLY accurate. Not perfect. So when I opened my Christmas presents a couple weeks before my sixth birthday, I was shocked, surprised and happily overwhelmed to learn that OTHER GIRL was in fact, me.
Last month I turned 71, and have tried to stay close over the years. And when my now 31 year old son decided at a similar age during visits to Ohio that she, in fact, was HIS favorite aunt, I was delighted.
Yesterday my Teta Mart passed away at 93. Thank you for being there my whole life. And especially, thank you for my surprise tea set. It forever set the tone of “us.”
George Seurat and Vacations
Posted on: February 5, 2025
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In the late 1800’s, a couple of French artists – George Seurat and Paul Signac – riffed on the popular Impressionism style of painting and came up with a technique that was eventually christened ‘pointillism.’ Pointillism is painting many small, distinct dots that, when viewed at a distance, forms an easily recognizable picture. Or for you pop culture kids – it’s what mesmerizes Cameron in the Chicago Museum of Art scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
The idea of standing farther back to see the picture more clearly is something I find endlessly fascinating.
So what does that have to do with vacations? Just this:
I’ve personally found that geographical distance tends to give me a different perspective on my life. What seems like negative or positive space, or parts that don’t make sense together – take on a whole new meaning when viewed from a distance. Or sometimes, the reverse.
What brings this on? Simple. I am about 36 hours into visiting where I lived for a long time after moving to where I currently live, and that’s a distance of about 4,500 miles. I’ve got nearly three weeks left and already I can see my “at home” life taking a somewhat different shape.
What about you? What do you do to gain perspective? Hit me in the comments or message me. Inquiring minds want to know…
Songs on the brain at 3AM
Posted on: December 27, 2024
Ok, so this is a “just can’t sleep” night. Yes, there are a few things on my mind, but mostly – nothing insurmountable. But here’s the thing …
You know how a tune, or a jingle or even just part of a song’s reprise will play in our minds, in an endless loop? Yeah, I know you know. Well it finally dawned on me that – if I want the song to quit playing in my head – what I need to do is to STOP and fully listen to it. Because really? I think it’s a way that our brain is trying to give us a little advice.
Tonight (today?) my 3 AM song is the late, great Dan Fogelberg’s “Part of the Plan“. So this time I listened. And now I’m going back to bed. But before I do, I thought I’d share it with you. The lyrics are totally on point, but don’t just read the words. Listen to the music of it. It’s the chorus that’s really speaking to me right now. But I know at least a few of you out there might need all the verses. 😉
You’re welcome. And good night.
Part of the Plan, Dan Fogelberg, 1974
I have these moments all steady and strong
I’m feeling so holy and humble
The next thing I know, I’m all worried and weak
And I feel myself starting to crumble
The meanings get lost, and the teachings get tossed
And you don’t know what you’re gonna do next
You wait for the sun but it never quite comes
Some kind of message comes through to you
Some kind of message comes through
And it says to you
Love when you can
Cry when you have to
Be who you must
That’s a part of the plan
Await your arrival
With simple survival and
One day, we’ll all understand
One day, we’ll all understand
One day, we’ll all understand
I had a woman who gave me her soul
But I wasn’t ready to take it
Her heart was so fragile and heavy to hold
And I was afraid I might break it
Your conscience awakes and you see your mistakes
And you wish someone would buy your confessions
The days miss their mark, and the night gets so dark
And some kind of message comes through to you
Some kind of message shoots through
And it says to you
Love when you can
Cry when you have to
Be who you must
That’s a part of the plan
Await your arrival
With simple survival and
One day, we’ll all understand
One day, we’ll all understand
One day, we’ll all understand
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Something I enjoy but seldom have the table space for is working a jigsaw puzzle. “Working” is not an exaggeration. It takes focus, stick-to-it-ivness and a subtle Sherlock Holmes vibe. It also takes hours of time with no lasting result but hey, I digress…
When I was a kid, Mom frequently had a puzzle in progress on a card table in our living room. Our house was like Coffee Central, so random family members and neighbors stopped by on a daily basis. They’d sit at the kitchen table and chat, and eventually notice the puzzle in the other room. No matter who it was, or how they scoffed at such things, everyone would eventually wander over to the makeshift puzzle station. It was not unusual to hear my big burly cousin Jim yell out, “Hey Anne! I got that sky piece you couldn’t find! It was mostly green leaves!” Or alternately, Mom would chastise “Stop trying to force it! I doesn’t belong there!” regarding a piece of scenery that really, really, really seems like it should be in ‘that’ part of the picture. “Leave it alone for now and start somewhere else.”
The crowning achievement – almost ceremonial in nature – was clicking that last piece into place. WHAT a rush of satisfaction and accomplishment! That, however, was followed by the inevitable “now what?” We’d leave it out for a few days, admiring our observational and deductive skills until finally – it would be disassembled and returned to the box and banished to the back of the closet. I don’t think we ever did a puzzle more than once. Not sure where they eventually went. Maybe there’s a Jigsaw Purgatory, for spent puzzles.
Why am I writing about this, so many years later? Because right now, my life feels like a jigsaw puzzle. I have all these colorful, fascinating pieces in front of me, but I can’t seem to find the box with the photo of the finished puzzle. I’ve managed to fit a number of sections together (some quite nicely!) but others are a cause for consternation. There’s a very cool piece with all my favorite colors that I want to fit over there, but I can’t tell just yet if it does. And those pieces down there are all jammed up and need to be spaced out better.
But that’s cool. I think I finally have enough experience with puzzles to just relax and enjoy each intriguing piece in front of me. I know they’ll all fit together in good time.
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The other day, a twenty-something young friend of mine asked me for advice regarding a situation in her life. I did the best I could, gave her a big hug and wished her the best. On the way home, I remembered an ancient blog post that I wrote when I was a …yikes… forty-something? Wow, more than 20 years ago? How does THAT happen? Rhetorical question…
Anyway, I fired up the laptop, plugged in an ancient thumb drive and found the blog. I just emailed it to her and decided to also post it the my Medium site, in case anyone else might get something from it. Okay, here it is – written in the nineties and overly wordy but here it is:
I do not believe in love at first sight. I’m not talking about puppies or when we first see our child. I’m talking about potentially romantic love between two people that is real and might stand the test of time. Nope, no way. I don’t buy it.
I do, however, believe in the following:
- Lust at first sight
- Attraction at first sight
- (and the one that I find most intriguing)
- Connection at first sight.
What do I mean by ‘connection?’ I’m referring to that inexplicable, almost déjà vu type feeling we sometimes get when meeting or even just seeing someone for the first time. It’s a bond that causes you to feel like you know the person, and you cannot for the life of you, understand why. There’s an inexplicable sense of recognition, without really knowing why.
The plus side of this phenomenon is that whenever I feel drawn to someone in that manner, my future experience with them ultimately confirms that yes, I absolutely have a special connection to this individual. In fact, it has netted me some of the best, most soul-to-soul relationships of my life.
But this type of “recognition” can also can be complicated when it takes place between a man and a woman (or, I assume, between any two people who are attracted to each other’s gender). I’ve noticed in myself that because the connection feels so strong, I automatically assume that it’s romantic in nature. But sometimes it’s not. Okay fine, sometimes it is. But therein lies the complication! Do you want my unsolicited advice about this? (As though I’ve ever hesitated to give advice) Okay, here it is:
The “wow, this person and I are really attracted to each other, I’m going for it” moments are totally cool. Jump in, see where it leads you. But if you think it’s ‘love at first sight’ – know it might not be that. Instead, kinda slow your roll a bit. Give yourself time to mull it over. Experience your responses and how they might change as time passes. Don’t jump to conclusions. Which brings me back to the original topic:
If I don’t believe in love at first sight, then what do I believe in?
I believe in all the corny seed/planting/nourishing/watering/growing clichés you can possibly imagine. I believe in letting that initial spark of attraction slowly reveal itself to the people involved. I believe in allowing it to be what it is – you can neither force it nor deny it. If it’s intended to be romantic love, it’ll happen. And if it’s not, it won’t. Or at least, it won’t for long.
I believe in love that grows. This happens consciously and from a strong foundation. It is ever changing, ever adapting. It’s based on an increasingly dimensional understanding of who the other person is. It has a foundation so strong that it easily moves from crazy initial passion to something deeper and, ultimately, easier.
I’ll take that over love at first sight any day.
So I Did a Thing The Other Day …
Posted on: July 8, 2024
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So I did a thing the other day …
When I want to read whatever book I’m on at the moment, I grab my Kindle, handbag, car keys and aim for a coffee shop or restaurant. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps I’m too distracted at home by “oh, there’s that thing over there that I meant to deal with” kind of of stuff.
Having foolishly signed up for a year of Panera’s Daily Sip Cup, I headed out for their store on East Broad. After getting my coffee and a bite to eat, I snagged a booth in the far, far back. Opened my e-reader and plunged into an early chapter of The Museum of Ordinary People. Just as I was settling in, the conversation at a nearby table broke into my reality. Unable to block it out and regain concentration, I gave up and decided to eavesdrop.
It was a job interview in progress.
Having a background in Human Resource Management, this was more intriguing than my book! I decided to suss it out.
There were three people, two women and a man. It was easy to figure out the voice of main interviewer (the man) and the interviewee (a younger sounding woman). The third woman was an interviewer, but secondary to the guy.
The interviewers were pretty good, but the interviewee was great. Her answers sounded honest and real and really painted a picture of who she was and how she may fit into the organization. She wasn’t selling herself and much as simply saying “based on these experiences, this is who I am, how I do things and why.”
I’d given up on my book, finished lunch, listened to way more of the conversation than is normal and decided it was time to go. But then I had an idea.
Finding an old paper receipt in the bottom of handbag, I wrote the following on the back of it:
“Hi. I am a retired Director of Human Resources and I would hire her in a heartbeat.”
Gathering my stuff, I deposited my trash, wiped my table and headed out. Passing their table, I handed the folded receipt to the man, who looked at it for a beat and finally took it. I continued walking and, after a few steps and without turning around, I raised my arm in a backwards wave and thumbs up and left.
Moral of the story: You never know who might be listening…
Is There Life After Retirement? 