Family Witness Protection Program

Thursday evening I had a wonderful dinner with a dear friend who has been a wise guidepost for the past 20 years. The issue was my career but I will elaborate on that another time.

It was 7;30 and I was getting settled to watch the replay of the Phillies game when my phone rang. It was my older brother's number. Since we usually chat in the morning, I knew it wasn't good.

When I answered, all I heard on the other end was my oldest nephew had accidentally set the garage on fire, please hurry. She did say no one was hurt. UGH.

I threw on whatever clothes I could find and ran out to my RAV4. Half way in my 30 minute drive I realized I forgot my shoes. Details, minor details.

My brother's family lives in a small community. As I approached their neighborhood, I have never seen that many fire trucks in my life that weren't in a parade. Clearly every community in a 20 mile radius responded judging from the names emblazoned on the side of their trucks. Holy hell.

It was surreal.

The closest I could get to their place was three blocks away. As I jogged to their place, I ran into my youngest nephew and his little girl friend He has the same laid back disposition of my brother. Is anyone hurt? I asked. Nah, Mom is just freaking out, as usual.

(His mother is crazy, recently she was placed on meds. However, this was cause to be a little distressed.)

By time I reach their house, the WOODEN SHED and all of the combustible crap was a charred memory. The fire was contained and no one else's property was involved, thank God.

Now the fun begins.

My older brother arrived from work minutes before I did and was hugging his son.

Trying to be sensitive, but by my claim adjuster in me kicked in.

So, what happened?

Young Einstein decided to fill the gas powered lawnmower in the WOODEN SHED filled with combustible crap. The Shed is easy 12 x 12.

He says that during this process, he somehow bumped over some matches and the next he knew the lawnmower was on fire......

Did I mention the fact, that my sister-in-law grabbed me before I encountered my brother and nephew, and asked about investigative dogs?

Why dear sister is this an issue? I dared to ask.

It seems as though one of her friends was storing her pot in the shed. I assured her that based on the damage that there were just very happy firefighters. Oh dear God.

Because I couldn't help myself, I pressed on, was there anything else in there? Dad's antiques and my craft stuff. Newsflash, rich people have antiques, poor people have old shit)

The fire and police chief questioned my nephew. I could tell that the Fire Chief wasn't buying his story but there was no evidence to point to arson.

I love my nephew but the chain of events does not make sense.

Before I left for the night, I looked at my brother and it seemed to be a backdrop of his life. He looked so beat down. His road has not been easy. His wife and kids have been the source of plenty of heartache.

The next day, I shared my concerns with my brother. It didn't make sense to him either but his son is sticking with his story.

My heart just sunk. So I suggested that we put him in a Family Witness Protection Program. He is very low maintenance. Just go for bread and not come home. He could take the youngest but that is it.

We laughed sort of...

Tomorrow is Father's Day

I just returned from a few days in Dallas, TX. I had a safe trip, no dead pilots or water landings.

It was sunny and 100 degrees. In between meetings, I did get to the pool. I had no problems with the weather.

There were those flippin' Cowboy stars everywhere you go. AND one of the local news stations had it impeded in their logo. Dear God, make it stop. 

When I was still married and my daughter was not even a year old, we had an opportunity to relocate to the big D. I am sooo glad I vetoed it. At the time, I was making more money and it would have killed my career. Furthermore, it would have radically hurt our standard of living. To no surprise, the ex currently resides in Dallas with his wife. 

It worked out for everyone.

I managed to get in a brief ride in this morning before the rain came. Sitting at home this morning was not an option. So I decided to write at the local cafe. 

The Gryphon is a eclectic little coffeehouse. The staff is friendly and efficient. The decor is funky but practical tables doted with fresh flowers. The walls are lined with artwork by local artists, available for sale.

Judging by the flow of traffic, I am the only new customer. When the customers arrive, the staff  confirms their order.

As I stood staring  blankly at the menu board, a very attentive staffer, informed me what I was looking at was not available for a couple of hours but recommended other items not listed.

Ignoring the baked goods, I settled on a simple salmon and capers breakfast with a cafe au lait. A welcome change from the chain coffee shops.

Despite the rain, I am glad to be home.

Tomorrow is Father's Day. At my age, each milestone that passes with my family is good. Most of the time......

On Mother's Day, my folks, daughter, grandson had dinner with my older brother's family at a local restaurant.

Normally, my sister-in-law hijacks family events but at my parent's 50th anniversary party there was no drama. None.

Maybe the stars would line up and we would have another successful outing.

Upon my brother's late arrival, he bounced out of the car with a warning "She is a mood about whatever".  With a glare, I asked, "Why didn't you either leave her or stay home?"

Now I'm hoping for the best.

We arrived at the local restaurant. We agreed to go for something nicer than our normal Old Country buffet. A modest Mainline Restaurant.

The food and company were wonderful until dessert. 

After dessert arrived, my oldest nephew, who is 16 and stands about 5' 10" popped up almost knocked over a waiter with a full tray of food as he ran to the men's room.

We all looked at each other assuming dinner didn't sit too well. No big deal.

Or so we thought.

He came out and started crawling on the floor, clearly looking for something. When he could find what he was looking for, he knelt in the middle of the floor and began weeping.

Did I mention the fact that this was a Mainline restaurant on Mother's Day and we were the only colored folks in the place, not members of the wait staff?

My brother tried to find out information and comfort his distraught namesake.

After removing him from the center of the restaurant, we learned that he lost a ring his off and on girlfriend had given him.

Seeing his anguish, the wait staff and other customers are crawling on the floor looking for this piece of jewelry. 

We sat horrified at the scene unfolding. It was so surreal. This simply could not be happening. We are now grateful for Mom's dementia. She was enjoying her pie and coffee ignoring the chaos unfolding.

As I'm trying to get the check and get the hell out of there, my father, who is Never Politically correct, leans over truly befuddled and says "Do you think the boy is gay'?

In his world it only acceptable for girls and gays to weep over jewelry. At that point, I had to just laugh.

The manager comes over, and promises to find this ring. I told him not to fret about it. At his insistence, I gave him my contact information.

We returned to my place. Everyone is trying figure out why he was so upset. This behavior came out of left field or did it? Instead of his Mom hijacking an event, he did.

 I just wanted this family outing to end.

When we realized the boy was still in the family vehicle, my daughter, the eldest grandchild, who is all of 5'3', goes to the van, and demanded that he apologize.

As he sheepishly followed her in, the phone rang and it was the restaurant manager.

"Ma'am, we found the ring."

With this bit of wonderful news, my brother and his family left to retrieve the lost treasure.

Later that night, I checked in my kid brother who couldn't make the dinner because of transportation problems. He was a little down when he answered the phone.  I shared with him the days events.

Little did the boy know, that he cheered up his uncle. He couldn't stop laughing.

Tomorrow is Father's Day. We left it Pop as to what he wanted to do. Returning to the scene of the last meal was not going to happen. " You know we can't go back there," he said with a hearty laugh.

He still hasn't decided. 

Hancock: Super Hero with an Attitude

I had the pleasure of spending a good part of the holiday weekend with my nephews ages 12 & 15.

Since they were kind enough to join me for the latest Indiana Jones flick (they loved it), I let the choice be theirs.

They picked Hancock. Being a Will Smith fan, this was not tough duty. The critics trashed it but I didn't care.

We loved it. It was funny, fast moving and sappy in some parts. It took an unexpected twist, which was fine.

If you are Will Smith fan, ignore the critics and go see the movie!

Everyday is Father's Day

I'm so lucky. I still have my Father.  He has battled two rounds of colon cancer and one round of prostate cancer. Diabetes and blood pressure are his current inconveniences.

Even the wait staff at our favorite diner know what he is not supposed to eat.

My Father's presence in my life was just assumed. I learned so much from my Dad. Hard work, persistence, spirituality, community/political activism, and the responsibilities of parenthood.

My folks were young when they married. Mom was 19, Dad, 23. Trying to raise a family in the turbulent 60s was not easy. What this generation is experiencing is nothing compared to what my parent's generation experienced "living while black."

Dad sat at the head of the supper table, with my Mother seated to his left. My older brother sat at the other head of the table. My kid brother sat next to my Mom because he was "the spirited one." Current events, work drama, politics, community events and our daily activities were discussed during supper. 

A common suppertime lecture from Dad was making babies. "Don't you kids bring home any babies I didn't help make." My mother would sigh, roll her eyes at the crudeness of the message but was supportive of the message. "Get your education before you settle down, " was another frequent lecture. 

Of course these sex talks were more for my brothers because I was never ever to have sex. Period. Since I have just my daughter, my Dad is convinced that I only had sex once and really didn't like. I let him live in that happy place.

I digress.

Mind you my Father & I did not always see eye about many things. But the foundation of my parents love was always there. 

My marriage lasted eight years but my friendship with my ex-husband continues. Our marriage didn't work but his role as a Father did not end with the marriage. I chose well. He lived all over the country but was/is very much a part of my daughter's life. Our values were in sync, much to the annoyance of my daughter. Even if she thought about it, she knew that she couldn't play us off of each other.

His current wife is an angel. She treats my daughter as if she gave her life. Her children are equally loving. My daughter has an extended family.  This speaks to my ex's extraordinary taste in women.

I learned as much by my parents actions as their words. I treasure the time that I have with my folks. When I am not on the road, I share at least one meal a week with my folks. My daughter and her son usually join us. Watching my Dad play with his great-grandbaby is awesome. My Mom just sits back basks in the joy from their laughter.

When my ex and his wife are in town, they are included in the family meal.

Could the schools be better? Yep. Could there be more jobs with living wages? Absolutely. Could the criminal justice system be fair? Yah.

These boys aren't raping these girls. The girls need to value their bodies. If they don't, who will? However, these boys need to understand that it takes a real man to be a Father to the child they made. 

What is critical, is the the expectation of growing old and living accordingly. Too many of members of this generation can't see beyond today.

Barak Obama was raised by a free-spirited single Mom. His grandparents provided the grounding that he needed. He earned his education. He got a job. Married the love of his life.

He waited to become a Daddy which is critical to his story.  He is a living example of life's possibilities in our country. His presidential run does not wipe out the harsh realities of being black in our country but serves a sign of a better now.

Father's Day is a day to celebrate fatherhood. The daily activities leading up to that day should be worthy of that celebration.

More things I don't get.....

I try to spend at least one day a month with my older brother's family. Instead of heading "down the shore" on a beautiful holiday Saturday we attended settled on the Devon Horse Show. The proceeds go to the Bryn Mawr Hospital.

I confess, it was my bright idea. From the road you could see the ferris wheel, maybe there will be rides for the kids. My little community explodes with visitors, there must be something to this fair.  What the hell, something different. My folks, daughter and grandson joined me in this adventure. 

What surprised me was how much stuff they fit in such a small area. It was packed. The attire ranged from the old money dressed in old country fair attire to the jeans we were sporting. 

There were three rides, that's it. They didn't even have pony rides. We did spend a great deal of time looking down to miss the presents left by the horses. Surprisingly, the horse aroma did not mask the spell of the fair goodies.

There was standard fair food: ice cream, hamburgers, hot dogs, funnel cake, and FRIED OREOs. (Oh my God.....They should not be legal) combined with tea sandwiches and mint tea.

We watched small children and teenagers maneuver these large animals. We held our collective breaths as these kids performed their jumps. The risk manager in me had flashbacks to Christopher Reeves. The crowd cheered each time they cleared their obstacles.

It was fun hanging out with the family. The money we spent went to a good cause, but I don't see it as the hailed place to be...

True or BS?

Birth order discussion on Pandagon. Fun post for a rainy day...........

Phillies magical misery tour

Groan..........

I had breakfast with the family yesterday at a local diner. Before the waitress could bring the coffee, my Dad shook his head and scolded me. "Don't EVER mention THEM in my presence again." My mother rolled her eyes and piped, " Can we order first?"

i knew immediately who held my Dad's scorn. He stayed awake the night before and watched the Phillies collapse after having a six run lead. He even drug our poor waitress into the conversation. She informed my Dad that she stopped watching the Phillies ten years ago. She simply did not want to subject herself to the pain.
"
Dad was annoyed with the management and the players. Knowing the answer, I asked "Pop, why do you do this to yourself?"

With his notorious shit eating grin he responded " what would we have to talk about, the bonehead in the White House?"

Good point. With that, he dove into my Belgium waffle.

Baby shots, Market drops, Hirsch informs

My daughter just started a new job, so she could not scoot out to take her son to the doctors. My schedule lends itself to flexibility, so I took my grandbaby to the doctors. My dad was always willing to assist with this task, so I was satisfying my karmic debt.

This four month appointment involved shots. Wonderful. The little man and the nurse sobbed uncontrollably.
I looked at this crazy bitch and reminded her that she is a trained professional.

After that nightmare, I loaded little Mr. Handsome up in his massive carseat/carrier. The carseat weighs more than the baby. As he was whimpering quietly in his car seat, I settled in to listen to the news on NPR.

Well, the first bit of lovely news was the market plummeted. At one point, it dropped by the lowest percentage since 9-11. The spin was the market was "correcting" itself. Our ties to the global market place resulted in a direct hit. The Chinese market nosedived and our market joined them. The late afternoon computer drama did not help the situation. My headache was getting worse.

Next up, Terry Gross interviewed Seymour Hirsch. He is a good writer, but he never brings great tidings, per se. Tuesday was no exception. He was basically saying, that our country was inadvertently funding our enemies, through the mismanagement of this dumb war.

I began to whimper with my grandbaby.

Not having the courtesy to die

The fastest growing segment of our population are our seniors. A cottage industry of geriatric services has sprung up in the last decade. Unfortunately, accountability has not grown with the industry. These facilities pay their employees less money than one would receive managing a fast food restaurant. Most receive their operating funds from government funding sources.

Years ago, I one of my clients provided these services for their community. Because of the complicated bureaucracy mandated by the funding sources, they had to allocate resources needed to care for their senior toward accountants. The actual caregivers had to work in an organization or a lot of overtime in order make a living wage. The turnover is high because of the low wages and unattractive daily duties. Those who stay, generally love their job, but that number is in steady decline.

There are millions of dollars that flow through these companies. Unless you have older relatives in your orbit, you haven't noticed how seniors are afraid of people they perceive to be in authority. It is usually, a younger family who advocates for basic rights over the protests of the senior victim. So you have people who are spending their final years living in fear. Not good.

There are standards that exist, they must be enforced. The next step is to reduce the bureaucracy. Followed by increasing the reimbursements. Then the actual caretakers only have to work one job. This will reduce fatigue, stress thereby reducing the injuries to the clients and the employees. This will reduce operating costs such as workers' compensation and liability insurance.

Just like we in society are afraid to face the possibility of being poor, getting older is not high on our wish list. We as a society need to address this issue now, because we are more likely to end up in one of these facilities than the loving comfort of a family environment.

Every family has one, Milton Street arrested again

Look around at the your next family gathering, if you are invited. There is at least one relative that will be the source of anxious conversation. You know what this looks like, the grieving widow who throws herself in the casket, as all knowingly look on with her lover at the wake. The uncle who gets loaded at the reception and insists upon leading the "Electric Slide." Or the aunt who is mad at her sister for a thirty year old grievance. The list could go on.

Maybe you are that relative.

As bad as these relatives are, aren't you grateful that you are not a member of the Street family.

Joys of Parenting

Anyone who has the pleasure of reproducing, knows it is the most challenging job that you will even endure. You don't know how good of a job you have done until all parties are old and gray. If the tenure lasts that long.

You love your babies, give them what you think is wisdom. Ultimately, they choose their own journey. At some point, you simply offer healthy support then turn them over to God.

Andy Reid's adult children managed to find themselves in a shitload of trouble. No formal charges have been filed, yet.
Because of who they are I am sure things will be done slowly by the book. Will they be treated differently than some poor little black child? Absolutely. It doesn't make it right but that is the way it is. That is a rant for a different day.

I don't know Reid or his sons, but as a parent I am sick for him. From what has been reported his sons have issues. My view of world changed after I gave birth 20 years ago. I am less quick to judge a sitution and have become a little more compassionate.

In the meantime, it is not for you or I to judge this family or Andy's parenting skills. They are in plenty of pain, as is any family that finds themselves in inexplicable circumstances.

I will keep them in my prayers.

Look what's under the tree

Merry Christmas Philadelphia!

What a perfect Christmas present. The Eagles beat the 'Boys in Texas clinching a playoff spot. The bow on the gift was the camera focusing on T.O. pouting after he dropped yet another pass.

I give my future son-in-law credit for choking down this loss. He showed up wearing his Dallas garb. The blue stood out in the sea of Eagles green worn by the rest of my family.

Blessedly, my parents made the trip without incident. They took off before the game started because the weather was pretty crappy. Dad looked pretty good and ate too much. Everyone was glad to see him.

After eating dinner, we gathered around the tube to watch the game. It was cool having most of the family together. My kid brother called after dinner. All is well in his corner of the world. My ex-husband, a Philly native, who now resides in Texas called throughout the game to torment the lone Cowboys fan in the house.

All is well in my corner of the world. Merry Christtmas Jeff Garcia, Welcome to Philadelphia.

Eagles 23, Cowboys 7.

Daddy's Home

My Dad is resting an home today after four days in the hospital. According to my Mom, he is starting to look like his normal self today. A Christmas wish granted.

On Monday morning I saw my Mom's cell number flash on my cell phone. I knew immediately, something was not good. My mother never uses her cell phone, ever.

When I answered, Mom informed me that she and Dad were on the way to the hospital. Dad's heart rate was so low at his doctor's visit, he was instructed to go immediately to the local hospital.

My parents are old and have been married forever. I am not sure when they officially became old, but I am discovering that old people have rules. In my parents world, Dad always drives. Period.

Dad has a history of diabetes and high blood pressure. I knew that he was on a lot of meds but I did not know heart medicine was in the mix. Mind you, Dad could have had a stroke, seizure, or simply passed out. But there are rules. Mom rides shotgun.

Mom assured me that Dad was fine, under the circumstances and they would be at the hospital shortly.

During this brief conversation, I was not quite sure who to be annoyed with, the doctor or my folks. Fear was the best description of how I was feeling.

I love both my folks. I was terrified that they would, in this little 20 mile excursion, kill themselves and faceless strangers. Where my folks live 20 miles is local.

My best friend recently buried her father. His funeral flashed in my mind.

When I received the call, I was on my way to take an account that I actually like to lunch. Nice clients are rarity in my business. I would be two hours. Mom told me not to rush. Dad stopped taking one of his pills and it screwed up his system. The doctor told them once the old body was recalibrateted, he would be fine. The plan was to keep him at least overnight.

I called my older brother who was closer to the hospital at that moment. I told him what was going on and asked him to meet the folks at the ER.

I told him that I should get there in enough time to relieve him and chat with the doctor. He is money. "I got it, Sis," as he hung up.

It seemed like a week took place during the lunch. One member of my party was a nun. She sensed my anxiety and her words of kindness gave me comfort.

After lunch, I dropped off my employee who whispered a prayer for my family. The traffic gods shined on me. The route that i had to take always has either an accident or a construction project.

By the time I reached the hospital, Dad had been moved to a room and was hooked up to every machine imaginable.

By this time, Mom was worn out. My brother decided to take her home. I promised to wait for the cardiologist and call everyone with an update. With that my brother gave me a big old hug. I needed it at the time.

Dad was pretty spent, so we sat quietly as the sun began to fade into the evening. Before the doctor arrived I had to know why Dad was screwing around with his meds. He told me that the one pill "messed with my stomach." Unfortunately, it was his heart medicine and he didn't bother to tell his doctor until this morning.

I recalled my parents discussing the high cost of their medication. I could always talk to my Dad about sensitive stuff. Money is a sensitive topic.

I asked if he was he cutting back on his meds because of the cost. He said no. He is the collateral damage of the collapse of the American steel industry. After 38 years of service, he was forced into early retirement. They eliminated his life insurance policy, slashed his health coverage and cut his pension by 15%.

I made him promise if the cost of the meds were an issue to let me know.

Once we chatted with the cardiologist, we just sat with the sounds of the machines providing a break in the silence. I found comfort in the rhythm of the machines.

Finally, visiting hours were over.

As I was leaving, I told Dad " don't die yet, OK?"

With a big old grin, he told me "God didn't want him messin' up his Heaven."

Presumptuous aren't we? I responded. We both just laughed, and fought back tears.

What I am thankful for........

Thanksgiving officially marks the the start of the holiday season. Most people spend time with the folks that they love. If they are lucky, they like them too.

I must admit that I do enjoy cooking on Thanksgiving and Christmas, the only days that I committ to cooking. My Mom still brings her creamed mushrooms. My daughter prepares the mashed potatoes. When my kid brother lived closer, he prepared a killer cornbread stuffing. I took over the bulk of the duties from my mom, in time I will pass the baton to my daughter and her new family.

Dad will bounce in the kitchen and test everything to make sure it is OK. My Mom will yell at him for doing so. It is what they do.

We will eat too much, watch football and resolve the problems of the world.

Most stores used to close on this day. The supermarkets and convinience stores would open buit close early so that the employees could eat dinner with their families.

To my horror Kmart is open ALL day today. I am not much of a shopper but I think this is a little much. How much will you really save? What about the folks who have to work?

I am thankful for my good health, family and friends. I blessed that I have a job with benefits, a luxury in today's economy. I am blessed that my daughter, nieces and nephews are not in the military.

I very grateful that I do not have work for Kmart.

Sympathy for the She-Devil

Last Monday I received a call from my older brother. " Hey Sis, are you sitting down?" It makes me crazy when he starts a conversation that way. What follows is never good. I held my breathe and asked " Are there any accidents, pregnancies and/or dead bodies?" We are the sandwich generation. Harsh but fair questions. No, he assured me. But if you are not sitting down, you better.

I love my brother, but he can be sooo slow getting to a point. "Well?" I said trying not to be short with him. "Pop Pop left Grammy on Saturday. "Are you kidding me?" I couldn't contain my laughter. Pop Pop and Grammy are his in-laws.

I have known this pair for about 20 years. Grammy is bar none the nastiest person on the planet. Think about this for a second. I have worked in the insurance industry for 20 years and this in meanest person that I have EVER encountered. She reminded me of Roseanne Barr's TV character at her worst. My daddy once said " She will never die because God doesn't want her messin' up his Heaven."

From my encounters with Pop Pop he is a soft-spoken, loyal Eagles fan with a off beat sense of humor. My brother's children absolutely adore him. Behind closed doors he could be different. But, I doubt it.

Pop Pop and Grammy have been married for 56 years. It is my understanding that Grammy never had to work outside of the home. While they lived modestly, Grammy never wanted for anything.

As with most break ups it is usually what is perceived to most, a minor event that pushes a person into action. But, that event is the final straw. Pop Pop's straw came in the forms of dishes.

Pop Pop did not "do the dishes" to the satisfaction of Grammy. She felt compelled to bitch about it for two hours. Two flippin' hours. WTF?! I guess something snapped. He started packing his suitcase. He called a mutual friend and confided his woes. She said " Big Daddy, you've been putting up with her crap for too long, bring it."

Everyone was stunned. It did not stop the toxic waste that flowed from Grammy's mouth." You're children and grandbabies will never speak to you again," she screamed as he shuffled toward the door.

He called my brother from his new home. I am not sure of what the final chapter of this story will bring. If Pop Pop's new living arrangements bring him joy good for him. Life it too short to be miserable. He served his time in Hell.

Pop Pop is a diabetic. He told my brother that he was going to visit his doctor to get some of those little blue pills. I surmised that for the first time in a long time Pop Pop wants the intimacy that comes from sex. My brother's interpretation was a little different and probably more accurate. Hooray for him. Something we all can aspire to at 78. I think he will be ok. (I confess that chatting about these folks taking a tumble was a little disturbing.)

My brother is worried about his wife's reaction to this recent turn of events. She is upset. They are her parents. His kids wondered why it took so long.

However, after the amusement and sheer audacity of the event died down, I felt a sadness. A sadness for a human being to have lived for over seventy years and created a dynamic that has left her alone. I am sure there is more to her than I have been privy to.

My prayer for Grammy is that her heart softens and her tongue is less toxic. I hope that she finds if not joy, peace.