Today I spent the morning at my favorite food bank who serves the men, women and children in our county who live with HIV. We provide groceries and provide referrals and resource contacts. We sometimes are their sole contact in life and so we cajole and show interest in their lives. I find it to be the best volunteer service out of many as it has a fun loving spirit with hundreds of volunteers who are very dedicated to the clients.
I have been working there on Thursday mornings this month to sub for a volunteer who is off gallivanting in Europe. Lucky man. Each volunteer time slot has its own click it seems and I have not felt that cushy feeling I get on Saturdays. They know one another and not me so they have their preferences. However, two volunteers have been friendly and I felt comfortable with them. We all serve the clients first and foremost so it isn't that hard to just do the work. It is a pleasure actually.
Truth be told, I am there to be of service and I get some happiness from pretending it is a grocery store where I work. I still yearn to stock groceries and produce. At FFT, I do just that. I laugh too and meet new people. It is a place with a big heart and I feel honored to be one of the many, many volunteers.
However, today I came home feeling distracted by the two deaths of volunteers recently. J. and E. were volunteers and men living with AIDS. I was stunned in a way and kept thinking of their faces as I drove home past the few apple orchards left in Sebastopol and now blooming. I thought of J. who had a very wry wit and whom I wrote about in this blog at one time. I thought of E. who had served at FFT since the 1990s and I cannot imagine that he has died.
It is that simple, in life, that the deaths of people who came into my circle made me feel their loss profoundly. Being at FFT is all the more meaningful because we help people living with HIV live. Some of us have become complacent about the idea of cocktails as a prescription for eternal life. As a friend who came in for groceries today said, "We have been through this before." AIDS is still killing our brethren. God speed my friends, you are already greatly missed.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Bumper Sticker Of The Week
One has to wonder sometimes just what exactly those guardian angels are thinking of when they pull stunts like this week's finest.
The sewer pipe replacement project continues at our corner where the front loaders and crane thingee with the tank-like appearance grind away our street, rattling the windows and coating the sidewalks with grimy dust. Those guys work hard and drive those huge pieces of machinery around the corners at amazing rates of speed. Not one collision. Knock wood somewhere.
However, my laptop crashed last night with some kind of DOS warning page that led me to call Dell. You know what I am going to say. A man who called himself "Charles" with a very heavy Indian accent spent an entire hour putting me on hold and not helping me one bit. I was civil and calm until the end when he charged me another $20 for the program disks that Dell never sent with my laptop two years ago. Funny, he didn't ask me how he could "provide me with excellent service."
I am now writing on our desktop computer. If and when the disks come to me via some freighter from somewhere, I will try to do it myself. Maybe my laptop is toast but I am not ready to recycle it just yet and I still know what excellent customer service is and that was not it. Somewhere in Texas, Michael Dell is sipping his California Chardonnay or Pinot and I am wondering how I will afford a new computer two years after I bought it.
Seconds come via the job market in life or something that looks like a chance to put money in my dwindling savings account via Craigslist. "ORGANIC PRODUCE STOCKER" was listed on Craigslist and yes, all caps. That should have been my forewarning. True enough, the small market in Occidental would be a hard, 30-40 minute drive west from here with only 16 hours promised on the weekends for a minimum wage. Still, I felt a tingle at the idea that I might be able to gain some experience. I applied for other jobs this week as they came along, keeping Occidental in my mind.
Yesterday, there was a missed call and no message. Hmmmm. Telemarketer? I called Occidental Market today once my volunteer morning stint was done and was told the job had been filled. I thanked the woman and wondered if her all caps and her lack of a voice mail were my work of just grinding along trying to find something that will sustain me no matter what or my guardian angel keeping my Mini from scooting off Occidental Road in the fog? Believing the later keeps me from feeling bitter.
Third, yet another volunteer orientation to walk dogs at the Sonoma County Humane Society, three weeks after the first volunteer orientation led me to feel like it was all just a terrible waste of human effort. I understand, from that two hours of "orientation", that the entire dog behavioral department had been laid off and the Director rehired with no support staff. Additionally, only five volunteers could handle the dogs with behavioral issues, of which there were more than not, and I wondered what was really wrong there. I am not a dog trainer though I walk three Greyhounds each morning and it just felt so wrong. I want to help where I can but don't make it so freaking complicated.
Fourth, I showed up to do some office volunteering at a local organization, only to find that the volunteer coordinator was out sick. I had driven 20 minutes to get there so I was angry. She called me and apologized and it is hardly her fault. Overworked and understaffed as well, they use volunteers to get by on a string and a prayer.
From an underpaid produce job to a home made latte this afternoon, I wonder if there is something out there for me or is this going to be a very long summer. It is not true that if you do good deeds you will be rewarded though most of us that were raised in our Judeo-Christian culture know that message so well. However, if I have angels flying close to me-one has to be a white and red, party color Greyhound with big freaking white wings, I wish they would get to the punchline. I am plum worn out and it isn't funny anymore!
Finally, I saw the best bumper sticker this week and that is my big finish here-and really, this blog is something I write from my true self so I want that other me to listen up:
"What is right is not always popular.
What is popular is not always right."
The sewer pipe replacement project continues at our corner where the front loaders and crane thingee with the tank-like appearance grind away our street, rattling the windows and coating the sidewalks with grimy dust. Those guys work hard and drive those huge pieces of machinery around the corners at amazing rates of speed. Not one collision. Knock wood somewhere.
However, my laptop crashed last night with some kind of DOS warning page that led me to call Dell. You know what I am going to say. A man who called himself "Charles" with a very heavy Indian accent spent an entire hour putting me on hold and not helping me one bit. I was civil and calm until the end when he charged me another $20 for the program disks that Dell never sent with my laptop two years ago. Funny, he didn't ask me how he could "provide me with excellent service."
I am now writing on our desktop computer. If and when the disks come to me via some freighter from somewhere, I will try to do it myself. Maybe my laptop is toast but I am not ready to recycle it just yet and I still know what excellent customer service is and that was not it. Somewhere in Texas, Michael Dell is sipping his California Chardonnay or Pinot and I am wondering how I will afford a new computer two years after I bought it.
Seconds come via the job market in life or something that looks like a chance to put money in my dwindling savings account via Craigslist. "ORGANIC PRODUCE STOCKER" was listed on Craigslist and yes, all caps. That should have been my forewarning. True enough, the small market in Occidental would be a hard, 30-40 minute drive west from here with only 16 hours promised on the weekends for a minimum wage. Still, I felt a tingle at the idea that I might be able to gain some experience. I applied for other jobs this week as they came along, keeping Occidental in my mind.
Yesterday, there was a missed call and no message. Hmmmm. Telemarketer? I called Occidental Market today once my volunteer morning stint was done and was told the job had been filled. I thanked the woman and wondered if her all caps and her lack of a voice mail were my work of just grinding along trying to find something that will sustain me no matter what or my guardian angel keeping my Mini from scooting off Occidental Road in the fog? Believing the later keeps me from feeling bitter.
Third, yet another volunteer orientation to walk dogs at the Sonoma County Humane Society, three weeks after the first volunteer orientation led me to feel like it was all just a terrible waste of human effort. I understand, from that two hours of "orientation", that the entire dog behavioral department had been laid off and the Director rehired with no support staff. Additionally, only five volunteers could handle the dogs with behavioral issues, of which there were more than not, and I wondered what was really wrong there. I am not a dog trainer though I walk three Greyhounds each morning and it just felt so wrong. I want to help where I can but don't make it so freaking complicated.
Fourth, I showed up to do some office volunteering at a local organization, only to find that the volunteer coordinator was out sick. I had driven 20 minutes to get there so I was angry. She called me and apologized and it is hardly her fault. Overworked and understaffed as well, they use volunteers to get by on a string and a prayer.
From an underpaid produce job to a home made latte this afternoon, I wonder if there is something out there for me or is this going to be a very long summer. It is not true that if you do good deeds you will be rewarded though most of us that were raised in our Judeo-Christian culture know that message so well. However, if I have angels flying close to me-one has to be a white and red, party color Greyhound with big freaking white wings, I wish they would get to the punchline. I am plum worn out and it isn't funny anymore!
Finally, I saw the best bumper sticker this week and that is my big finish here-and really, this blog is something I write from my true self so I want that other me to listen up:
"What is right is not always popular.
What is popular is not always right."
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Ashley Judd Rules
Spinning my wheels on a rainy day after applying for jobs that fall into the black hole and trying to deal with my anger over the unspoken reality of how we look, when we look like we are young, who gets job offers because of how they look and why, oh why are women scrutinized for a sign of aging, Ashley Judd tells the media to take a hike. Actually, she told them the truth though it won't change a damn thing that they do.
I love it that she used that word "misogynistic" because it explains so much in those few syllables. Fear of death, vanity and the reality of the sun's rays on our faces, Ashley stood up for we women in a way that fame can in its' flaming voice. True enough, Ashley has those sharp cheek bones that run in my family. True enough, we women should all be so lucky to have a great face like Ashley.
However, more than ever, I appreciate her conviction, her strength, her fury and her words in a world that takes one look and marks a box on a piece of paper on a clipboard at a group interview and decides where you will end up. Not so much.
What makes a beautiful woman beautiful? Maybe it is character as much as it is what we see. Actually, the absence of character and plain old balls to the wall moxie are the kind of beauty that lasts a lifetime, long after youth has gone the way of the Dodo. Puffy indeed. You rule Ashley. Thank you.
http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-ashley-judd-body-image-20120410,0,756459.story
I love it that she used that word "misogynistic" because it explains so much in those few syllables. Fear of death, vanity and the reality of the sun's rays on our faces, Ashley stood up for we women in a way that fame can in its' flaming voice. True enough, Ashley has those sharp cheek bones that run in my family. True enough, we women should all be so lucky to have a great face like Ashley.
However, more than ever, I appreciate her conviction, her strength, her fury and her words in a world that takes one look and marks a box on a piece of paper on a clipboard at a group interview and decides where you will end up. Not so much.
What makes a beautiful woman beautiful? Maybe it is character as much as it is what we see. Actually, the absence of character and plain old balls to the wall moxie are the kind of beauty that lasts a lifetime, long after youth has gone the way of the Dodo. Puffy indeed. You rule Ashley. Thank you.
http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-ashley-judd-body-image-20120410,0,756459.story
Friday, April 6, 2012
Standing In Front Of The Urinal Of Life
I went to yet another "group interview" last night and came home feeling furious, confused, used and yet strangely informed. Apparently many companies have stolen Apple's techno interview style of dragging young-almost always the bulk of job seekers in the room-humans into a warehouse or a conference room, showing them some propaganda about their wonderful company and then making them do exercises together in small groups while lurking in the background with a clipboard assigning them points for their ability to work together. Contrived, off-putting and vague, somehow the trend is now the "group interview."
As this was the second time I had gone to one of these sorting process events, I was not surprised to see that I was one of four old people and the rest 20 somethings-about 25% of the job seekers. This event was slightly better than the grocery store company but the amount of women there was the same-about 25% which is not indicative of our population or job seekers. I was the old one.
I can tell you that these were interesting and alive people however who talked easily about themselves. Ah, they are young and yet to be denied promotions or drug through ethical dilemmas that will teach them about their character. They are neither jaded nor wise yet they were fascinating to me and so very alive. I enjoyed them. From the summer firefighter to the white water rafting aficionado to the rock climbing fencing instructor to the trail running physical therapy intern. Impressive.
Two hours of this experience and then we were each pulled into a one on one interview with the store manager and another supervisor to further refine their sorting process. I was the very last one that they called and I sat alone in the back of house room for quite a few minutes. I wondered if they had forgotten me and felt what it was like to have gone through this strange experience yet again. So few jobs, so few interviews, so much effort to be considered for one of five jobs and only a few months of seasonal work.
By the time I sat in the office with the two honchos-yes they did remember me, I was calmer and observant. They gave me the spiel and they informed me that they could not guarantee any amount of hours of work each week and really, this job was for two months, five at best. That is where I began to back out of the door in my thoughts. I began to feel that they had wasted our time and our lives. Truthfully, if they are what they say they are, working there could be a great experience-in line with my ideal job. However, it feels like fighting for birdseed and there is not enough to go around. Not even. I felt angry.
I imagine that many other more retail savvy men will be hired for those five vague jobs and maybe one woman. Maybe just to match the mission statement of inclusivity. However, this morning, before I take my old body for a long run around Spring Lake and off to the gym to lift weights with my fellow old people, I cannot help but feel that last night was a similar experience to February's group interview.
In fact, being authentic and enthusiastic can get you into trouble if you are not observant about what is being offered. The game is to appear happy, alive, I-will-take-whatever-you give me and a bit hyper to put yourself ahead of everyone else in the room. You may however, end up in front of the men's urinal with a bottle of cleaning fluid wondering how you ever got there after all you said and did to make yourself stand apart from your fellow interviewees. Tell me, is that all there is to this life or did someone just break all my balloons?
I'm going for a run, damn the performance that puts me in front of the urinal of life!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Royal Blue Flush
The clear, royal blue backdrop of
a crisp morning curtain rises above the eastern sky on
a Sunday morning in Northern California.
I have dyed my hair, something I said I would never do,
and waxed my eyebrows hoping that age would
turn down another block and
pass me by
but my body aches when I rise from a night of sleep
and I forget the names I held
so close once.
Try as I might I cannot get a
job that I can live with though once
in my not-so-well-spent youth I felt the fullness of
success that left me with a sense of security.
Now I fight everyone younger than 20
for a spot inside the door and seldom make it across the threshold.
I find solace somewhere running a 10 minute mile at
my age and reveling at
a river otter scampering around the water tank near
Howarth Park,
a white egret poised, statue really more than bird, near the lake's
edge,
and my breath and legs in unison and
enough money in my wallet for a perfect latte.
It is not enough and
yet
it is what I have in this life that includes
getting older and
being present to win.
Any day now things will change, I tell myself, and
for today,
I shall hold the image of a royal blue flush
across the sky above Annadel
as my northern star.
a crisp morning curtain rises above the eastern sky on
a Sunday morning in Northern California.
I have dyed my hair, something I said I would never do,
and waxed my eyebrows hoping that age would
turn down another block and
pass me by
but my body aches when I rise from a night of sleep
and I forget the names I held
so close once.
Try as I might I cannot get a
job that I can live with though once
in my not-so-well-spent youth I felt the fullness of
success that left me with a sense of security.
Now I fight everyone younger than 20
for a spot inside the door and seldom make it across the threshold.
I find solace somewhere running a 10 minute mile at
my age and reveling at
a river otter scampering around the water tank near
Howarth Park,
a white egret poised, statue really more than bird, near the lake's
edge,
and my breath and legs in unison and
enough money in my wallet for a perfect latte.
It is not enough and
yet
it is what I have in this life that includes
getting older and
being present to win.
Any day now things will change, I tell myself, and
for today,
I shall hold the image of a royal blue flush
across the sky above Annadel
as my northern star.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Purty
My brother-in-law sent me this youtube link today and I started my job search this morning with something moving and cried.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt3Utn4mjeg&feature=player_embedded
I cannot help but notice that the audience rose as my emotions did while watching and listening and I think I know why too. All of us judged the young couple by how they looked before we had a chance to find out how stupid we all are for doing the same thing at once.
We all heard something incredible from someone we had decided could not be successful or brilliant or just plain incredible because of how they look. And we were all astonished as they proved us totally wrong. I love that. I just love that. I think we love the irony that the voice behind the image brings to us because each one of us feels left behind because of the judgements of others. Almost all of us know what that feels like and stomping on that assumption is a glorious victory.
So if you are too purty to relate, you don't have to listen. Or you can wonder what it is like to be stigmatized and still sing with the kind of fury that some kind of divine gift brings into the room. Paybacks are a you-know-what.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt3Utn4mjeg&feature=player_embedded
I cannot help but notice that the audience rose as my emotions did while watching and listening and I think I know why too. All of us judged the young couple by how they looked before we had a chance to find out how stupid we all are for doing the same thing at once.
We all heard something incredible from someone we had decided could not be successful or brilliant or just plain incredible because of how they look. And we were all astonished as they proved us totally wrong. I love that. I just love that. I think we love the irony that the voice behind the image brings to us because each one of us feels left behind because of the judgements of others. Almost all of us know what that feels like and stomping on that assumption is a glorious victory.
So if you are too purty to relate, you don't have to listen. Or you can wonder what it is like to be stigmatized and still sing with the kind of fury that some kind of divine gift brings into the room. Paybacks are a you-know-what.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Laughter And Gluten-free Recipes
Last night we went to see Lily Tomlin in our podunk town of aging baby boomers. As is her style, Lily came on stage full of that energy that is amazing, brilliant and funny. I laughed so much and smiled so much that my face hurt when it was all over. A respite from any troubles in life, laughter doesn't mean you have to be anyone special or have a job or be pretty or even laugh correctly. Laughter is unavoidable if you want it. It just comes right in and tickles you and then you find yourself pounding your knee in exclamation!
Most of us in the audience were old enough to have watched Lily Tomlin on Laugh-In and been fans ever since. We all laughed knowingly in the same parts of her routine and in unison. We are the aging population of baby boomers and their trailing edge siblings. We actually remember that era of television when there were only seven channels locally and cell phones had not entered our world like a cancer never to be outlived.
Other gravity defying recreation has involved a new cookbook for me-Babycakes Covers The Classics by Erin McKenna. I am attempting to illuminate or expunge gluten from my diet and it isn't that easy. The bread is like dried out cardboard and my attempts at making cookies has been a real joke that should not cause laughing. In fact I tried some online recipes from a blog I won't mention and they became doorstops that were tasteless and dry. I then tried converting old favorites into gluten-free objects of desire and they came out flat and crumbled into a pile of ingredients. I am a bad cook but something was really wrong here.
So, I splurged and bought Erin's new cookbook and we shall see. Some of the recipes are beyond me and I love her writing style and the idea of making gluten-free donuts. She makes me laugh. I really just wish she had a bakery here so I could go and eat through the display cases. Guess I shall have to work harder since I live in podunk northern California. Just the same, check out Erin's website for some fun: http://www.babycakesnyc.com/about.html
I am going to keep trying to have some more fun today even though it is rainy out there because Monday comes whether we have a job or not, whether we worry about our lives or not and whether decisions about what to do next are clear to us or not. Laughter can always lead the way because it doesn't cost a cent.
Most of us in the audience were old enough to have watched Lily Tomlin on Laugh-In and been fans ever since. We all laughed knowingly in the same parts of her routine and in unison. We are the aging population of baby boomers and their trailing edge siblings. We actually remember that era of television when there were only seven channels locally and cell phones had not entered our world like a cancer never to be outlived.
Other gravity defying recreation has involved a new cookbook for me-Babycakes Covers The Classics by Erin McKenna. I am attempting to illuminate or expunge gluten from my diet and it isn't that easy. The bread is like dried out cardboard and my attempts at making cookies has been a real joke that should not cause laughing. In fact I tried some online recipes from a blog I won't mention and they became doorstops that were tasteless and dry. I then tried converting old favorites into gluten-free objects of desire and they came out flat and crumbled into a pile of ingredients. I am a bad cook but something was really wrong here.
So, I splurged and bought Erin's new cookbook and we shall see. Some of the recipes are beyond me and I love her writing style and the idea of making gluten-free donuts. She makes me laugh. I really just wish she had a bakery here so I could go and eat through the display cases. Guess I shall have to work harder since I live in podunk northern California. Just the same, check out Erin's website for some fun: http://www.babycakesnyc.com/about.html
I am going to keep trying to have some more fun today even though it is rainy out there because Monday comes whether we have a job or not, whether we worry about our lives or not and whether decisions about what to do next are clear to us or not. Laughter can always lead the way because it doesn't cost a cent.
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