The Adventures of Nellie and Doris: Gym Membership

Right down the street from us--only about three miles--sits Mt Scott Park.  What a glorious park! Nellie and I would take the kids swimming in the summer. We'd take them roller skating--Robbie was so young that the park people would tighten his wheels so they weren't rollering. You know, so he could just walk. Still, he'd enjoy himself playing with the others.

Over the years, Nellie and I joined different groups to help us lose weight. Mt Scott Park was a great place to try out things.  We tried Jazzercize. I can still remember the moves  to Steal Away (Robbie Dupree, 1980). Of course, we didn't have any of those cute little outfits, but we moved to the music as if we did.

We went to TOPS (Take Off Pounds Sensibly) meetings at the center. We tried walking to the center. Weight Watchers was our most frequent go-to, but the meetings weren't held at our beautiful Mt Scott Park. Obviously Mt Scott Park wasn't our only spot!

One time I was given a coupon for a free week at the Cascade Fitness Center. I could bring a friend.  Of course, it was Nellie. Of course. So we set up an introduction meeting with one of the fitness instructors. She walked us around the gym, showing us the different machines. She talked about the different programs they offered. She enthusiastically explained the hours and the best times to come. She gleefully told us about the friends we would make and all those good times.

She asked us questions about our daily routines. I worked outside the home and Nellie worked in the house.  That woman would babysit anyone's kids. Mine. The neighbor's. Her grandchildren. Her great-nieces and -nephews. Every kid in the neighborhood. Plus she cooked meals for everyone who stayed with her, my kids included.

One of the questions the trainer asked was what type of diet were we eating.  I hemmed and hawed.  I mean, did she want to know about my cookie fascination? Nellie didn't hesitate to answer: "I'm on the Sea Food diet."  The trainer looked at her and asked if that was working.  "Yes," said Nellie. There was a pause with both of us looking at her. "Yes," she repeated. "I simply See Food and eat it."

We all got a laugh out of that.  Okay, Nellie and I got a laugh out of that. The fitness instructor was pretty sure we were not great candidates for a subscription.

As we left the gym, still giggling at Nell's joke, we noticed directly next door was Stark Street Pizza. That's where we decided to have lunch. 

and the beat goes on...
peace~~~

Remembering Times Past

I've been watching my grandson meander through his romantic life. I've followed him through the ups and downs, the sighs, the fears. The joys. He's a great young man who is exploring everything and having the time of his life. And all this youthful romancing and dating and dealing with new feelings brings back memories of my own.

Understand that I am trying to support his choices and celebrate him as he goes through his days-by-days.  When he was dating a person who didn't want to be in a monogamous relationship. I stood by him, being there. Over the two years of being polyamorous, my grandson was unhappy, often angry--at us as it was much less scary than showing this anger to them.  

At one point I told him about my own four-year monogamous polyamorous relationship. For a year or so at a time, we remained monogamous but then my partner would date someone else. I said to my grandie he needed to understand the consequences of this--heartbreak on occasion. Soaring pleasure and loving on occasion, and wondering when the next change would come.  He knew I was supporting his decisions, but that I wanted him to be aware of possible consequences. 

The highs were soaring. We met at college and I flirted, teased, and laughed with him, this sassy red-haired girl. We began having lunch together. Then taking walks around campus together. Dating. We played; we cavorted. We were together, two minds, together greater than each singular. My sons adored him--he had a computer!! And they would laugh at our antics. I was his partner. And then...

The lows were deep in the mire. He told me right up front that he didn't want a monogamous relationship. But I knew he loved me and I knew he would change his mind. And then, after 9 months to maybe a year into our time together, he would just start dating someone else. Oh the angst. Oh the heartbreak. Great bunches of angst poetry came from these periods. 

There comes a time when I needed to let go. I came to believe that he was telling the truth that he didn't want to have a relationship with only me. I knew he loved me. I knew we were also best friends. But I could no longer just tread water.

First there's no going back.
Then there's no going back ever.
And then, and then there's no wanting to go back.

We stayed friends until he died and I still grieve that loss. But letting go of a relationship that was no longer working allowed me to find my life in a whole different way.

My grandboy finally broke up with his former partner and has moved on. He recently started dating a good man who makes him happy, who likes to spend time with us as family, and will speak up when the popcorn isn't cooked right (yes, I did burn it a little...).

and so it goes~~~
peace

Where Have All the Objective Journalists Gone: Long Time Passing

While in college, I decided to diversify studies from my two majors of Speech Communication and Sociology. I moved into Journalism. I took Journalism courses and started writing for the Portland State University's Vanguard. 

It was a challenge for this Junior who had been studying and practicing how to communicate through the act of building relationships in mind. I learned about the five W's as a framework that journalists use to structure stories and communicate key details. I learned how to write the lead, or opening paragraph, as the most important part of a news story. This gives readers the most important information in a clear, concise and interesting manner. It also establishes the voice and direction of an article. I learned to write with brevity.

One of the most important lessons as a journalist was learning how to remain objective.  I was taught that journalists should present the facts whether or not they like or agree with those facts. Objective reporting is meant to portray issues and events in a neutral and unbiased manner, regardless of the writer's opinion or personal beliefs. An objective or unbiased news source is one that that reports “what is” and leaves interpretation up to us.

I also learned that no publication or news presentation is without bias; each writer and organization has its own perspective and agenda.  Some organizations excel at maintaining objectivity in reporting, but still it's essential to diversify your sources, including non-profit and international  media; it is important to use critical thinking in order to shape your own opinions. There's no one-size-fits-all publication or media source. 

These days of polarized viewpoints and politics, we seem to have forgotten how to be objective. The Right says all media has Liberal Bias. The Left says that the Right only reads Trump Biased reports. When did journalism stop being objective?

According to Donna Halper, Former Professor of Communication & Media Studies at Lesley University, the news stopped being unbiased "in around 1770..."

Almost from day one, journalism was influenced by the views of the men who owned the newspapers or magazines. Later, journalism was influenced by advertisers, or causes, or even political parties. There were newspapers that supported slavery, and later, segregation; and newspapers that supported abolition, and later, integration and civil rights. And while there were always some dedicated reporters who challenged the people in power or championed fair treatment of the oppressed, there were also tabloids, scandal sheets, and publications that accepted whatever the people in power told them.  

Perhaps it seems that journalism is more biased today because we hear that claim a lot—usually from politicians who don’t like the way a story was reported. Sad to say, we are very polarized as a country, like we were during the Civil War era or the Vietnam War era. And perhaps we notice claims of bias more now because we live in a world with a 24/7 news cycle, where people expect instant information; it’s a world with partisan commentators, activists who use social media to promote their perspectives, and a president who constantly accuses reporters who don’t praise him of being “unfair.” However, the reality is that most journalists are trained to report the news as accurately and fairly as possible. In other words, while “objectivity” may not always be possible (it’s tough to be objective about, let’s say, Nazis), accuracy and being fair to the facts are still what the majority of today’s journalists strive for. 

Okay, so who's the least biased/most objective news source out there? According to Ad Fontes, who has studied 3600 news sources, 700 podcasts and 474 TV/video programs, the three most accurate and unbiased news sources are

1. USA Facts with 50+% reliability and left-leaning .05 bias rating 
2. WSJ: The Journal with 49% reliability and left-leaning .27 bias rating
3.  CBS Evening News with Norah O'Donnell with 48% reliability and left-leaning 3.3 bias rating or
   Air Force Times with 46% reliability and right-leaning 1.2 bias rating

I don't know. I was really frightened about freedom of the press when the president and EM stated they were cutting public funding to PBS because it only gave "liberal disinformation." My fear of ridding of all news sources that are not Trump News Approved (Fox News, the most watched and quoted media by the Right, holds a reliability rating of 35 and a right-leaning bias rating of 11%) is the government-control of media. This fear comes from how fascism has been spread throughout history.

But I digress. In my search for that "golden age" of objective and unbiased journalism--my search for another Walter Cronkite out there--has lead me down the road out of the idealism of journalism to the reality. So I will continue to listen to multiple sources and use critical thinking.  Then I'll know what to fight for and understand why.

And so it goes~~~
peace

I Accidently Summoned a Lemon!

 

I grew up in a house with parents who tended to be Passive-Aggressive. For example, they never told me what I did wrong; I had to guess. Dammit! There were too many choices! Since I was a dumb kid, I frequently didn't know that I had actually done something wrong, so my response was, "I didn't do anything!"  And their response was, "That's the problem!" I still don't know what that means.

One day I was visiting my sister and I accidentally shut a kitchen cupboard a bit too hard. She came into the kitchen and asked me if I was upset. I looked at her, trying to think what I did to be asked...aha! The cupboard door! And started to laugh. I told her at what I was laughing--Mom would never tell she was mad but slammed cupboard doors. Sis started laughing as well. Like Pavlov's dogs...there we were.

I majored in Communication in college. It was there I learned about double-binds and passive-aggressive communication. Recognizing this as behavior I had witnessed growing up and was actually practicing, I worked hard on how to respond in a positive manner rather than the same-ole-same-ole. Instead of trying to guess when Mom or someone would give a vague request that sounded like a loaded question, I learned to ask what was wanted. That way I could decide if I wanted to follow-through. Instead of having people guess what I was REALLY saying, I said what I was really saying. (and yet, how many men told me what I really meant. And I'd tell them if I had meant that, I'd have said that.  Some learned....)

And I learned how to calmly and responsibly argue with someone. I learned to take responsibility for how I feel and state it as such--instead of saying "you make me feel/angry/crazy," I'd say, "When you do this (describe the behavior), I feel this way," (describe how I respond). Now this was a great way to disagree as I am taking responsibility for how I am feeling and describing the behavior of the other. Hopefully this can help them not feel attacked and we can talk about the behaviors and the feelings. 

Okay, the truth about the best part of arguing was that I smoked.  Yes, it know it's a stinky horrible habit, but it was great when arguing.  I could think before speaking because I could take a puff or two before responding. And then the response could now be a thoughtful calm statement.

Yes, that was when I was a smoker. [un]Fortunately I quit smoking on March 24, 2001. And suddenly I had no filter! OMG! Everything that entered my head flew out of my mouth. I found I was terrible at the behaviors of staying calm and responding respectively!

I thought about taking up smoking again so I could get back to my good discussion behavior. But naw...that had been too much work quitting. So instead I started to try to practice calmness. 

Do you realize that when someone is calm while another is angry and frantic that this makes them more angry and frantic? Yeah I didn't either. Communication research says that we will match each others communication behavior...but either I'm suppose to get angry and frantic or I'm suppose to walk away because being calm never calms the other down. *sigh*

Well, there is a reason we are simply "practicing communication".  We all want to be understood; how we achieve that is often a mystery. I hope I can get this right at least a day before I die. 

Nirvana

and so it goes~~~
peace

Finding the Perfect Ratio

As kids, my sister and I ate cereal every morning for breakfast. We loved cereal. Mom would allow us to select our own cereal. For many years, our selections had to be non-sugar-coated selections. Dad loved Wheaties. Mom loved Grape Nuts. Kix was good choice for us.

Pat and I always ate breakfast together. The story we heard from our parents is that one morning when we were very young, Patty came into our parents bedroom on a lazy Saturday morning. "Moke," she said to the sleepyheads. "Make moke go way." Yeppers, they jumped up and ran into the dining room to see the toaster on fire. My sweet big sister was making the two of us breakfast of cereal and toast. The bread caught in the toaster and set the dining room on Smoke. The burnt spot under the cabinet was still there when Mom sold the house in the late 1990s.

Yes, breakfast was a sister-together project.

As we grew a bit older, we would read while we slurped our cereal. It started by reading the cereal boxes. The backs of the boxes had reading and crafty stuff. There were adventures. There were advertisements. There were things to cut out and make. Heck, they even had records on some of them. Very entertaining, these cereal boxes. And when Mom allowed us to select certain sugar-coated cereals, life just got better and better. Sugar and wheat and box-backs! Pat's favorite was Sugar Crisps and Sugar Pops. I loved Alpha Bits. Oh and when they arrived in 1958, I loooooved Coco Krispies.

Now there was always a problem with the balance of milk-to-cereal ratio. Often when the cereal was gone, there was too much milk left. So we would need to pour a bit more cereal into the bowl. You know, to keep the ratio correct. And perhaps a bit too much cereal was poured into the bowl; therefore, we needed to add more milk. This might go on for a few times before we achieved the best ratio. We went through many boxes of cereal that way. Coco Krispies was very difficult to find that ratio ;)

So we read, kept our eye on the perfect ratio, and enjoyed breakfast. We moved from the back of the boxes to bringing books to the table. And there we'd sit, slurping cereal, reading our books.

As we grew older, cereal became a true comfort food for me. As an adult, I couldn't buy it because I would eat too much too fast. It didn't matter what I'd buy. I even tried Wheat Puffs, but to make them palatable, I needed about a cup of sugar.  So I changed my breakfast to eggs and toast, or simply a drink of something--maybe milk or juice. Now I make myself a Iced Chai Tea Latte every morning. I still read while I eat breakfast. Breakfast is for reading.

My sister never left behind cereal for breakfast. She has it every morning and happily goes about her day. Whine she was here nursing me back from knee surgery, as with every visit, there was a box of cereal for her. She would make my breakfast of eggs and toast and latte, but rarely ate anything but cereal. When she left (thank you so much for helping me!), Doug made my breakfast for me. 

When I could stand for a bit longer, I began to make my own breakfast. I found that pouring a bowl of cereal was much faster than making eggs and toast. I started by eating the remainder of Pat's cereal instead of cooking something. Then, with my bowl and little plate, I'd hobble back to The Chair and settle in. Instead of reading, I started watching old episodes of Perry Mason. Why Perry? Well sure...because he is Perry Mason.

And now, thanks to my sister, I have cereal again every morning. As an older adult, I no longer buy Coco Krispies (I still can't control myself!) but eat Raisin Bran Crunch every morning. Milk is poured just right so that there is a bit left over to slurp from the bowl. 

Who wants to cook eggs when you can simply pour and slurp?

And so it goes...it's all my sister's fault that I must have a bowl of cereal every morning. That's just the way it goes.
peace~~~