The other night I was on a mass Zoom call with the author of White Fragility. The group sponsoring the call was Women for Biden, and from the nature of the questions I’m guessing most of the several hundred participants were white suburban women like me. One of the questions for writer Robin DiAngelo was how to deal with racist comments made by others. The speaker said the first step was to recognize your own racism. As in, stop trying to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye when there’s a big fat log in your own, even if you’re very, very sure it’s the other way around. She said we…
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Eye spy
If I were a cat, my breed would not be a Sphynx. Hairlessness isn’t in my DNA. What could evoke such an unusual start to a blog post, you may wonder? Too much sun, perhaps? “She’s a dog person,” you say. “Why in the world would she ever want to be a cat?” I don’t. Cats make me sneeze. And they’re too moody like people. In fact, the Sphynx reference stems from something called a “writing prompt,” put forth by my writers group instructor, whom we fondly call Anastasia Beaverhausen (“AB,” to her face) for reasons I cannot go into. Our regular Wednesday two-hour Zoom sessions have given each of…
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Everything
To everything (turn, turn, turn)There is a season (turn, turn, turn)And a time to every purpose, under heaven. A time to be born, a time to dieA time to plant, a time to reapA time to kill, a time to healA time to laugh, a time to weep … Lyrics excerpt from “Turn, Turn, Turn” by folk music icon Pete Seeger Weeding in the yard the other day, it occurred to me that more than likely the most useless thing I’ve ever bought was a 2020 planner. I should have listened to my gut and stuck with the iPhone calendar. But no, I required old-school backup. It’s no wonder they…
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WWJS?
My thoughts have turned inward over the past couple of weeks. Perhaps it’s coronavirus blues. Or COVID-19 overload. Maybe it’s “Zoom fatigue,” which is a thing now. More likely, it is because I am focused on the loss of my father, Jimmy John, who died May 20, 2009, already 11 years ago. I’ve decided to embrace my restless heart and see where it leads. Can’t hurt. Might help. (SCENE: The kitchen table at my parents’ condo, where we spent most visits sipping a glass of Fortissimo California full-bodied red from a gallon jug.) My father and I are having a conversation about the global pandemic. I’ve wondered how he’d react…
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Just OK
First off, I hope you’re all doing OK. Not necessarily well or fine. Just OK. Because being just OK is about as much as some of us can hope for during this unprecedented global pandemic. Unless you always fast-forward through taped TV shows like me, you’ve probably seen the AT&T commercial featuring a group meeting at a conference table called Just OK is not OK. It goes something like this: Boss: Tell him we’re flexible. Bearded guy: Don’t worry. My Dutch is OK. Boss: Just OK? Bearded guy: Uh-huh. This man is very bendy. Boss: Tell him we need this merger. Bearded guy: He says he needs a hug. Puzzled, the Dutch…
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Will Zoom for smiles
Who knew screen time would bring such joy? Not me. Since we battened down the hatches here in Michigan to follow the state’s stay-at-home order, I’ve disabled my Screen Time counter on all of my devices, mostly because I don’t want to know how long I’ve been texting, emailing, surfing, scrolling and watching mindless drivel. We’re talking years of my life I won’t ever get back. Oh well. We have a rule in our house: An hour before turning in, we must turn off all of our devices. That’s right. Screen time’s over, kids. Or, as my new favorite YouTube star, Pluto the talking dog, says, “The two-leggeds are unplugging…
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This is 60
Tomorrow, apparently, is my lucky day. At long last, I finally get to experience living in my “birth year.” Born on April 11, 1960, I will turn 60 years old. My age will match the last two digits of the year in which I was born. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Yippee. I had never heard of this. That is, until my good friend Miriam from Delaware emailed me a New Yorker article from 2007. “Hey, Jinny! Here’s a pertinent piece for your pre-birthday perusal,” she wrote with her usual aplomb and alliteration. Miriam is a wordsmith and the best copy editor I have ever known. She still makes me pee my pants…
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Keister eggs
Like most of our social life since the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, this Easter will be spent at home. On our keisters. Granted, around the first two weeks of April, we’re normally in Florida on our annual spring visit to Lauderdale-by-the-Sea with friends. It’s a fun trip, albeit rather late in the season, which annoys me to no end because it’s starting to get nice here in Michigan, and we’ve already spent a month in the sun as snowbirds. The struggle is real. But I tend to get over it quickly. When we call family and friends to wish them a Happy Easter, the conversation generally drifts to the…
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‘Quarantine’
It’s a good thing Americans are so adept at national lampooning. Laughter may be the best medicine when you’re sheltering in place with loved ones, pets or all by yourself. As the world tries to limit the spread of COVID-19, the disease caused by the new coronavirus, perhaps a healthy dose of humor can help alleviate some of the stress and anxiety we’re facing. Along with silly jokes, funny memes and goofy GIFs, coronavirus parody music videos are flourishing on YouTube. Seems that even in a global pandemic, music remains a universal language. Some well-known performers, stuck at home with nothing but time on their sanitized creative hands, have joined…
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Front lines
TROY, Michigan, 8 a.m. — Cover me. I’m going in. With all of the gumption I could muster before my second cup of coffee this morning, I headed out to the front lines. Compared with first responders and health care professionals – the real troops fighting this battle on the front lines – my assigned duty was small potatoes. Yet in these uncertain times when a night out means sweeping the garage with the door closed, I have to say that today I took one for the team. Or, as my commanding officer said: “You’re going to Kroger to shop for us since you’re not 60 yet.” And I don’t mean for…
