I'm Gonna Let It Shine: A Street Light Saga And So Much More

 

Julie wrote a terrific post on 20 January that resonated so much with me. I think you should go read it, but in summary, it was about feeling awful about the results of the election, but at the same time, not wanting to go back to that stress we constantly felt in 2016-2019. So many of us worked hard, writing letters to voters, campaigning, donating money and time, and phone banking--and of course, voting ourselves. Was there really anything else we could have done? It's time now to focus on what we can change, and make the world around us--our communities--a better place.

I did just that recently in my community, right here on my street. It's quite a saga, so get comfy.

In late September of 2024 the streetlight right across the street from our house went dark. That light has been problematic for years, going through bulbs like crazy. We didn't think anything of it, figuring that pretty soon, it would be repaired. 

During Trick-or-Treat on Halloween, however, it was still not fixed. Kids were going from house to house in the dark; not everyone on our street participated, so lots of porch lights were off. Some parents had flashlights, but not all. It really wasn't safe. 

The first week of November, the clocks turned back, and the street seemed dark all the time. People started leaving their porch lights on in the morning before they went to work so that they could enter their cars safely and come home to a well-lit driveway. Still, no repair crew had been out, nor had any representative from First Energy Co. I called their office and was routed through a lengthy automated system which demanded my account number. I didn't have it; Rick pays all the bills online. When I finally got to a Real Person, I was told she could not move past the initial screen to do anything without my account number. I hung up.

Rick called--with our Sacred Account Number--and filed a repair request, receiving an email notification of same. Two weeks later, no repair, and our mailman, on a late route, needed a flashlight to deliver mail on our end of the street.

I decided to get online and see if I could file a request for repair that way. I could, and they did not need my account number! And thus began our long journey, which you will see chronicled below:

  

Name: Nance D
Account Number: null
Request Type: Public Safety
Subject: # 000772104226
Text: This work order represents 8 weeks of continued inaction on the part of Ohio Edison to replace a bulb on a streetlight. In the meantime, USPS workers have had to use flashlights to deliver mail, children trick-or-treated in the dark unsafely, women (and men!) go out to their cars in the morning for work in the pitch dark and come home to the same, unless they leave their own porch lights on all day. When I made two phone calls, I was told I could not make a report unless I gave my account number, which is ludicrous.
The last contact via email was on 12/3; it said repairs would occur in 5 days. It is almost 2 weeks later, and no one has even been out to look at the streetlight.
Doubtless this report will also be ignored, which is sad. Our street is unsafe. You have failed your responsibilities.

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Monday, December 16, 2024 7:51 AM
To:
Subject: Re: # 000772104226 #167122390

 Nance D;

 Thank you for bringing your streetlight concerns to our attention. We are happy to assist you. We recognize the importance of making timely repairs to malfunctioning streetlights.

Our records show a repair notification was entered on 12/03/2024 has been forwarded to the appropriate work center for completion. The ticket is still open and active.

Please be advised, if the repair involves more than a bulb or photocell replacement, it can take longer than 5 days for completion. There is currently a backlog of repair orders, and our crews are working to schedule and make repairs as fast as possible.

 We appreciate your patience and apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

Sincerely,

Josh | Customer Service 

On 18 December 2024 20:17 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Josh (Customer “Service”),

 Hi there.

Regardless of how happy you may be to assist me, you really haven’t. Your email simply told me things I already know:

1. My work order is still not being acted upon.
2. My original work order back in November was ignored, as were my phone calls.
3. The lack of repair and lack of a working streetlight is an inconvenience for you.
4. You falsely presume that I have patience in this matter.

 Again, not a single crew or repair person or representative from Ohio Edison or any person subcontracted by Ohio Edison has been out to look at this streetlight to even ascertain what it needs; therefore, the excuse of the repair possibly needing more than 5 days due to a complexity is moot. Also, I outlined the reasons this outage is more than an inconvenience and is a public safety hazard.

 This response, emailed within five business days, serves to advise you that this issue has not been resolved and has not adequately responded to my concerns.

 Thanks, Josh. I appreciate your immediate attention to this matter and please be advised, I won’t hesitate to contact you again since you’re so happy to assist me.

 Nance D

Customer of over 40 years whose bills are paid on time

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Friday, December 20, 2024 8:21 AM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

 Nance D;

 Thank you for your reply. We have reached out to the local repair center and spoken with the work coordinator. He is assigning the order to a field crew for repair today.

 We hope you have a great holiday season!

Sincerely,

Josh | Customer Service 

On 21 December 2024 12:49 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Josh,

I’m sorry (but not at all surprised) to inform you that no field crew or repair responded to the above work orders. The streetlight at 210____Avenue, ____Ohio,  remains dark and ignored. Perhaps when you said, “He is assigning he order to a field crew for repair today” you really meant to say, “He is assigning the order today to a field crew for repair.” Syntax matters, Josh. I think you can see the difference here. So…which was it? Either way, we still don’t have a streetlight in working order, and our street isn’t safe.

Sincerely,

Nance D

Trying to sustain a holiday mood  

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Tuesday, December 31, 2024 6:24 AM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

 Nance D;

 Thank you for your reply. We have reached out to the local repair center for an update. We will reply to this email as soon as we receive a response.

 We apologize for the delay and appreciate your patience.

Sincerely,

Josh | Customer Service

On 31 December 2024 12:47 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Josh,

Just by way of an update, and to clarify, it is now ten (10) days since you told me that the streetlight at 210____Avenue, ____Ohio, was being repaired. Previous to that, its outage was reported over two months ago. It is still NOT repaired.

I am also not a patient individual, either. Nor is this a delay; it is an outright denial of service.

Let’s do try to deal honestly here.

Sincerely,

Nance D

Gathering Evidence

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Friday, January 3, 2025 1:55 PM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

Nance D,

Thank you for your reply. We have been in contact with our dispatcher on 01/03/2025 to have this request expedited be completed as soon as possible, however, an exact completion date has not been provided.

We understand the potential risks associated with this light being out, and we share your commitment to resolving this matter promptly. Rest assured, that we have forwarded your concerns, and we are making every effort to finalize our schedule and allocate resources to address this concern. The repairs will be completed as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Andrea | Customer Service

On 7 January 2025 14:10 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Andrea,

I see that I have been handed off to you. My previous dealings had been with Josh.

As of today, 01/07/2025, nothing has been done to repair the streetlight at 210____Avenue, ____Ohio. It remains dark, as it has been for over 3 months. Yesterday, our postal carrier had to use a flashlight to deliver mail—again. With the recent snowstorms, people are having to go out and shovel/snowblow in unsafe, dark conditions.

It’s not enough to “understand the potential risks with this light being out.” I understand them, too. The difference is that I actually care. My concerns keep being forwarded, yet they never arrive to a destination where anyone shares my concerns enough to do anything about them.

You/First Energy and I have a vastly different idea of what the word “promptly” means. And kindly do not insult me by saying that you share my commitment to resolving this matter promptly.

Nance D

Ready to engage a third party

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Thursday, January 9, 2025 11:57 AM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

Nance D,

We regret any frustration that has been created. We spoke with our dispatcher again on 01/08/2025. Unfortunately, our Line Crew is experiencing delays and are behind in scheduling. Our Line Crew is still aware of this request, and due to the volume of streetlight requests, this caused a backlog in our streetlight repairs. In addition, to the volume of streetlights, when storms, outages and emergencies beyond our control arises, our crews are assigned away from their day-to-day duties to assist. While we will continue to make our best effort to expedite this request, sometimes factors beyond our control can cause delays.

Sincerely,

Andrea | Customer Service

On 14 January 2025 15:27 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Andrea,

Please understand that this light has been out for several months. It’s incredible to me that in that time a crew could not be sent out to make that simple repair. If there is such a backlog of streetlight requests/repairs, then it would seem that there is insufficient manpower. While this may not be in your purview, it certainly seems as if it’s an insufficient reason for the lack of timely action. And I must disagree that a best effort is being made here. Absolutely no effort is being made. Basically, someone has a request for a repair to a streetlight that has been nonfunctioning since at least October. That is not effort.

Nance D

Aware of my bill; does that mean it is paid?

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Tuesday, January 21, 2025 1:39 PM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

Nance D,

I have forwarded this information to the correct department. I hear your frustration, and once I receive a reply, I will follow up with you in a separate email. We appreciate your continued patience.

Sincerely,

Andrea | Customer Service

On 21 January 2025 18:52 UTC, Nance D <> wrote:

Oh, hey, Andrea!

So funny. The streetlight at 210____Avenue, ____Ohio, was actually repaired a few days ago, but due to a backlog of other tasks that required my attention, I’ve experienced a delay in getting correspondence attended to. In addition, the volume of said tasks has been such that I’ve had to be elsewhere rather than at my computer, creating even more delays. Rest assured, however, that I appreciate your patience and, even though you have absolutely no idea or authority concerning this matter, I know you’ll continue to do whatever it is that you’ve been doing. Or not doing.

Sincerely,

Nance D

From: FE Customer Service <fecustomerservice@firstenergycorp.com>
Sent: Tuesday, January 21, 2025 1:41 PM
To:
Subject: Re: [EXTERNAL] RE: # 000772104226 #167122390

Nance D,

We are happy to hear the light has been repaired. We were made aware this afternoon by our Line Crew that the repairs have been completed. Thank you again for your patience and letting us know. Have a wonderful day!

Sincerely,

Andrea | Customer Service 

******

Victory! Of course, we did lose Josh along the way, but every battle has its casualties. Our street light is shining brightly, and our street is so much safer. And even though I was serious about my cause--and frustrated mightily--I admit to having fun, too. Could you tell?

So I'm adding my voice to Julie's. Focus on what you can change. Work hard for what you believe in. Accept what you cannot change, but make your voice heard. Shine your light!

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A January Report: Winter So Far (Spoiler Alert--AUGH!)

Just me, reacting to January In General

 Northeast Ohio has remembered Who It Is, geographically speaking, and we are back in the Frozen Tundra of a real winter instead of the El Nino Sissy Winters we'd been having. Temperatures have been in the 20s, and I feel like I haven't seen grass in aeons. I don't even bother chasing squirrels away from my feeders because I feel so sorry for them (but aren't they supposed to be hibernating or eating all that stuff they stashed away in the fall?). Little sparrows sit all puffed up and miserable in my barberry bush whilst my fat and lazy cats, all warm and comfy, stare at them from the back of the couch.

It's too snowy and icy for me to take my walk. We shovel our sidewalk, but we are in the distinct minority in our neighbourhood. This morning I watched in horror as the skinny guy across the street fell hard on his back as he cleared his driveway. He tried so valiantly not to fall, but it was hopeless. He scrambled to his feet quickly and resumed his labours. I was shocked. This man is so terribly thin and frail-looking that I expected him to literally break apart. He finished up with no further incident except a few slippery missteps. 

I went out an hour or so later to shovel out our driveway and sidewalks. Rick had used the snowblower a few days ago for the worst of it, so I didn't have but a light coating to dispatch. I hate how the snowblower makes our driveway look; it doesn't scrape down to the bare concrete, so it's not nice and neat and clean. I want my driveway to be the envy of the entire street. Because I...need a real hobby?

Anyway, it was good to be outside a bit and be active even though the wind hurt my face and my thumbs froze. I calculated whether or not it was worth it to try and take a short walk in my snowboots, but decided against it. Not worth the risk. 

We're not warming up anytime soon. I might have to go to our now defunct mall and walk there. I'm not excited about that. It's depressing, and it sort of gives me the creeps. Still, it's better than nothing, and I'm really feeling the need to walk briskly and get moving. And be Outside. 

It's befuddling to me, always, when I hear people say they love winter and love snow. I've lived in northeast Ohio all my life, and I've hated snow and winter all my life. Even as a kid, I dreaded wintertime. Snow is such a barrier and an inconvenience. It makes everything harder. 

(It even made getting my hair cut harder. On Friday we drove through bands of snow and almost zero visibility. Rick, however, is intrepid. I got my hair shampooed, cut, styled/blowdried, and with a Happy New Year tip, I dropped 25 bucks at Susie's:  "Nance, are you sure? Wow! Thank you very much!" Susie is the gift that keeps on giving.)

Lots of winter remains. My SAD light has been deployed and so has my snow shovel. What I really need is a January thaw so that I can deploy my walking shoes, too. 

Five On Friday: The Fussypants Edition

 Enough of this Christmas Cheer already. I woke up feeling a little crabby and fussy today, and despite our mild weather and a good, brisk walk, I'm not getting any better. Let's see if I can Write It Out of my system.

1.  Food:  I have a New York Times subscription. It includes access to NYT Cooking and all their recipes. "Oh boy!" one would think. "That sounds like a great resource." Well, it can be, but for the past 18 months, all the food editors can think/write about is gochujang and chili crisp. Before that, everything was about chickpeas. Salmon is featured constantly, and I detest salmon in any form. (That made our Alaska vacation awkward, let me tell you.) Do not get me started on their fixation with kale, which I think tastes like dirt.

2.  Hair:  Once again, I waited too long (no pun intended!) to book a haircut, and now I am in Ugly Mode. Absolutely nothing is working with my hair. The ends are dry and terrible. The layers are too long. It is flat. I have completely butchered my bangs so many times that--what? what can I even say? I am in such Desperation that I dragged out my old hot rollers and tried those with predictably clownish and frightful results. Susie booked me for 11:30 on 3 January thank heavens and she will get a sizeable tip.

3.  Amazon:  I'm happy to say that Rick and I did the vast majority of our Christmas shopping In Real Life and I only used Amazon for a handful of gifts. However, those gifts, although they were ordered on 11 December, did not come until TODAY, 27 December. Sam, whose Christmas shopping is almost done exclusively online and at the very last minute, had all his gifts arrive on time. I struggle to understand WHAT I HAVE LEARNED.

4.  Old:  There is no getting around it; I am Not Young Anymore. I thought I was Perfectly Fine with this fact, but apparently I am NOT. Did you know that, as you age, your body starts aching and bitching when you do stuff you always used to do? Right now, my neck and shoulder hurt a lot. And they have for days and days. So do my feet. Did I do anything different to cause this? No I did not.

5.  Over It:  I want my house back. All this Christmas stuff has got to go. Tomorrow, the tree comes down. Trust me, I don't decorate the house even a tiny fraction of what I used to, but I need the serenity of Things Back To Normal. Things would have been put away today, but Rick is now a Social Butterfly in retirement and had lunch plans and dinner plans today with friends. While he is gone tonight, I am going to take a muscle relaxer, put on my jammies, finish my book, and watch something not at all cerebral on television, and I will take recommendations. 

Are you feeling a little crabby, too? If not, make me feel better in Comments.

Merry Christmas From The Dept. Of Nance

 I hope this holiday, whether it is Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, finds you happy, warm, and able to--at some point--do exactly what this Christmas Cat is doing.  Do find some time for yourself to cozy up in a chair with a glass of wine and a good book, and enjoy the lights and the lull that always seems to follow all the excitement. Well done, Holiday Bringers. We did it again.

As always, thank you so much for being here. You are a Gift to me the year round.

Sincerely,

Nance

image

The Nature Of Change

 When we decided to buy our house, Jared was just a few months old. We were on a very bare-bones budget, so our plan was to look for the worst house in the best neighbourhood. We found one that fit nicely into our plans for everything:

1.  It was in our budget at $32,500. 

2.  It was mere blocks away from the same schools Rick attended, all of them excellent.

3.  The work it needed could be done by Rick and me.

4.  It was an older home, a sort of Craftsman/Cape Cod built in 1940, that had plenty of charming features, especially all natural woodwork and hardwood floors.

We even lived right across the street from Rick's kindergarten teacher. The boys walked to and from school every day to the very same schools their dad did from elementary school through junior high school.  And they rode to school with me for high school. 

Rick and I live in it still, and we still love it. That hasn't changed. But a great deal else has.

Probably you still haven't closed your jaw since reading that we paid only $32,500 for our house. Even back in 1985, that was a hell of a deal. Our house then was a story and a half, two bedrooms, one bath, and a semi-finished attic room, dining room, living room, kitchen. There was a garage, but there was a huge tree in front of half of it, and it was in pretty bad shape (the garage, not the tree). Full basement, too, unfinished, but dry (at that time).

Houses certainly don't go for that now. We're constantly astonished when we read what homes in our neighbourhood sell for. 

Rick's kindergarten teacher, who you met in 2009 in this post, and learned more about in this one, this one, this one, and finally this one, has been gone for almost ten years now. Her home was a rental for a bit, but soon it went on the market. Its new owners are a young family; they have two little boys. I often watch my new friend Charlotte managing Ollie and Archie and think back to my early days in this house. Astonishingly and poignantly, Charlotte planted rows of marigolds along her front walk. I felt the Universe come full circle.

Sometimes my walk takes me through the parking lot of the elementary school that Rick, Jared, and Sam once attended. It's five blocks from my house. The oldest part of the building is older than my home. It has beautiful brickwork and scrollwork. So many memories are there, but there are no longer any children. Our city built all new schools with levy funding and grant money. They're State Of The Art and safer. They're far more able to handle the demands of new technology and security. They have air conditioning and smart boards and beautiful libraries. 

This school is now owned by the hospital next door, who is leasing it to police, fire, and rescue for school shooter drills and other training. During the pandemic its parking lot held refrigerated trucks for makeshift morgues. I once peeked through its front windows and saw that it looked the same as it did the very day the last kids left it on its final day of school in 2021. I don't do that anymore; it made me sad and uneasy. But I'm so grateful for the time my sons spent there and the memories they made.

Once in a while, people take their dogs to play in the field where the playground equipment used to be. I love to see that. And neighbourhood kids sometimes run and skateboard and bike down the big hill that I walk up briskly to strengthen my knees.

I think about the Nature of Change and how easy it is to mourn for the Past. We miss and grieve for things we can no longer have. It is our nature. Loss feels final to us. We are conditioned to rail against it.

But in so many cases, Loss is not final or fatal. It's merely Change, Metamorphosis; Matter, as we were always taught, can neither be created nor destroyed, merely transformed from one form to another.

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Life Goes On, So Let's Ketchup: Good News, Good Music, Good Dog

 So! November. I put a lot of miles on my walking shoes last month. It's amazing how therapeutic it is. Walking was my way to cope with The Results. I'm not going any farther than that--no need to bring everyone back to that mindset. Let's just say that it's way worse than I felt after Gore, Kerry, and Hillary combined, and as a political activist of many years, I'm cocooning now. Please don't judge. (But do read this; it's enlightening.)

Back to Walking:  I used to walk in silence, appreciating the ambient noises of my neighbourhood. For some reason, however, I began to get bored and frustrated. I didn't feel energized. I began using my earbuds and chose music for my sojourns, varying my playlists among the music I grew up with and loved in my earlier life. Now I feel so much more spry, briskly striding to The Beatles, Genesis (whose catalog is excellent for walking), and an eclectic mix of artists from Aretha Franklin to Bruce Springsteen. I still carry dog biscuits in my pocket, just in case, and even in this cold weather, I'm out there (thank you, Rick, for my heated coat).

Good News:  Sam and Emily vacationed in Hawaii and got engaged. Emily has been part of our family for years already, so we couldn't be happier. Theo had his first birthday. He celebrated with Jared and Jordan in Pittsburgh, where he visited the Children's Museum. On Thanksgiving Day, J&J hosted. Some of her family came into town from out West, so we all got to celebrate Theo's birthday together as well as have a terrific feast. Jared made his first turkey ever (he brined it), and it was tremendous. So much to be Thankful for!

More Good News:  Rick semi-retired in November, going part-time, but at his full salary. His boss is so kind and generous. As of January 1st, he will officially be retired. Rick has been working since the age of 15 and mostly in construction, so I'm very happy for him. The boys are, too. Sam's first reaction was, "Dad. Mom lives a very quiet life. And she really likes it. Just saying." That boy knows his mother! And it is true that it'll be a big transition for Rick and me both--it already has been. His part-time schedule is Mondays and Fridays off, so we are already navigating what shared space and shared time* look like. (Sam has also lamented that he will be the only one in the family who has to get up and go to work, a singularity that he feels keenly.)  *I will always walk and go grocery shopping alone. 

Random Splotches:  Here's where I use up what could be short blogpost topics, mainly because I might forget them later.

*I think Heaven & Earth Grocery Store is going to be a DNF for me. I find myself annoyed and disconnected when I read it. I'm over you, James McBride, once and for all. Nothing personal.

*There's a new Beatles doc out, but it's on Disney+. I don't have that. I guess I'm going to have to pay 10 bucks for a month just to watch that one thing. There's no free or cheap trial because I already have Hulu. I'm going to have to swallow my disdain for Disney and pay it. Sigh. (But I still love Winnie the Pooh. Oh bother.)

*Speaking of Hulu--if any of you have watched the last season of Only Murders in the Building, were you as disappointed in it/its quality as I was? I thought it was terrible and jumped the proverbial shark.

*I'm having a terrible, TERRIBLE time finding Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt. As in, nowhere around me carries it and I had to order it off Amazon. The box I got was clearly marked "Not packaged for retail. For Food Service Use." I feel like a criminal. 

*Finally, another Dog Show has come and gone, and still the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever has not made it into the final round, let alone won Best In Show. The fix is in, and why Canadians aren't doing something about it is beyond me.

Thanks to those of you who kept writing in November. I appreciate you. 

Shopping My Way To Sainthood: My Husband Needed New Sneakers

 

Wow. These photographed
way better than they actually look

Rick and I went on a trek to find him a new pair of tennis shoes. If you think this sounds--for me--like A) fun; B) no big deal; C) one of those simple Guy Errands; or D) absolutely no cause for Deep Breathing or Xanax, you'd be wronger than wrong. Whereas I approach shoe shopping with Joy and Glee and a sense of Wonder, hoping to be Surprised and Delighted, my husband has a different expectation. 

As in, he expects to walk into any shoe store and see THE EXACT SAME SHOE HE HAS BEEN WEARING FOR ONE HUNDRED YEARS sitting there, waiting for him. In his size. So that he can merely stride purposefully over to it, procure it, and take it to the cashier, where he will pay pretty much what he paid for it the first time he bought it. 

The. End.

I have no idea where this Fantasy originated. This has never, ever been his experience that I know of. As a matter of fact, I have accompanied him on his shoe shopping quests since before we were married, lo these past 45 years. His shoe shopping habits are so frustrating for the both of us that I often buy him shoes for gift-giving occasions.

Rick's requirements for The Perfect Tennis Shoe are:  absolutely all white; no ostentatious logo; no cloth; if there are ventilation holes, they must not be too numerous; the sole cannot be too clunky or chunky; no Nikes (they do not accommodate his very high arch); he prefers K-Swiss, but they no longer make the ones he used to wear; no high-tops.

The last time I bought him The Perfect K-Swiss Shoes, I bought two pairs. It was, I must say, A Genius Move. Except for the fact that he got far too attached, obviously, and now here we are. 

We went to four stores. I did not look at a single pair for myself (it must be said). I was Gentle, Kind, Patient, and Helpful. I did not roll my eyes one single time, even when he couldn't see me. I did not make any menacing movements behind his back or stick my tongue out at him when his head was turned. I didn't even show him really ugly shoes while pretending I thought they were nice. I was, in a word, Perfect.

Here are the shoes Rick finally chose. There was a lot of concern about that flashy air cushion thingy that's visible mid-sole. It is not optimal, and was--briefly--a sticking point. I sort of wandered away and let him decide while I did some deep breathing and thought about Theo being a cow for Halloween.

You can order this shoe here rather than wander all over two counties.

Only when I saw him give the cashier his credit card did I walk up to the counter and witness the end of our quest. "Yay!" I said, smiling and cheery. "That's accomplished! How do you feel about it?" 

"I'm just glad that's done and off my list," he said. 

The Big Question now is when will he wear them? There is always a Transitional Phase wherein the new shoes are slowly phased in, worn only for certain things, and the old shoes continue to be the main shoes. Eventually, the new shoes are pressed into more service, and the old shoes are relegated to lawn mowing, basement work, or get taken to the lake for jobs around there. This could take months (and all of my Patience). It reminds me of this story about his wallet.

My sons are more like me when it comes to shoes. Sam is a sneakerhead; his collection of sneakers is vast and eclectic. Jared loves shoes, the more unusual the better; the shoes he chose for his wedding were fantastic (so were Sam's). I want very much to believe that this sort of thing is not exclusive to my husband. Tell me in Comments if any of the Men In Your Life have a Shopping/Fashion Quirk. Failing that, you can pat me on the back for my Patience.

Six Questions

 

Thank goodness for Ally Bean, who gave me something to write about. I'm not feeling particularly Thinky or Inspired lately, so I'm borrowing from her latest post in which she asks and answers some questions about herself. She chose ten from an interview that she read, and I'll see how far I get, depending upon how much I want to chat about each one. I've altered the wording of some questions to better suit my purposes. Let's go.

1. What is a character trait you most dislike in yourself?

Oh, just one? I am not as patient as I'd like. Many people are very surprised by this, especially knowing that I was a teacher for thirty years. Perhaps that's where I used it all up. I find myself always feeling impatient, as if I'm in a terrific hurry:  in the car; in the checkout line; doing tasks at home. I have no idea why. I'm rarely on a schedule or deadline. Fortunately, I rarely show my impatience, so few people even know. 

2. What is a character trait you most dislike in others?

Again, just one? I'd have to say Willful Ignorance. I have the hardest time with stupid people, and with stupid women especially. I get so tired of hearing about Undecided Voters in this election or people who say they don't ever watch the news because it's too depressing or people who say they don't vote because it doesn't matter anyway. I just want to light those people on fire. 

3. Describe yourself in three words.

Intelligent. Kind. Concerned.

4. What do you most dislike about your appearance?

The dreaded menopot/meno belly, that little belly that won't go away now, no matter what. If I hadn't grown up with weight issues, it probably wouldn't be such A Thing with me. Thanks to so much fixation on and bullying about my weight when I was a kid, it's something that has become ingrained. Even when I was ill and size 0 clothes hung on me, I didn't have a realistic perception of my appearance and looked for bulges. To this day, when I see my reflection or a photograph of me, I don't recognize myself; I have no real idea of what I look like. Other than that, I'm pretty happy about how I look, despite the signs of normal aging. I decided long ago that I'd age as gracefully as I could and not be a big baby about it.

5. If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?

Civility and decorum in the public square. I can pinpoint exactly when rudeness and disrespect took over our Politics, and no, it wasn't when the adjudicated rapist descended his golden escalator. It was the moment when republican representative from South Carolina, Joe Wilson, shouted "You lie!" at then-President Obama during a speech to a joint session of Congress. At first, the retribution was swift and strong:  both parties condemned the action; his own wife called him an idiot; he apologized. Later, however, he had a change of heart and fundraised off the moment, appealing to the worst elements of the party, a faction which has only grown stronger since then.

I'd also like to include in this what I call the Great Casualization Of America. I'm so tired of seeing people wearing pajamas and slippers in public. I hate seeing men wearing baseball caps in restaurants and anyone wearing flipflops or crocs unless they're gardening or boating or on the beach. I can only imagine what is being flipped and flopped up into my food or produce. America:  where khakis are the new tuxedo. Sigh. (And longtime readers know how I feel about feet. Ugh.)

I don't want to end on a low note, and this is getting longish, so let's do one more and leave it at that.

6. Who is your celebrity crush?

Oh, we've talked about this before. Actually, I just talked about this yesterday on Football Sunday over at Sam's house, a quieter affair since Jared, Jordan, and Theo weren't there. (Theo is growing so fast that they had to take the day to go buy him warm clothes.) Not only was there an ad for the new Dylan movie starring Timothee Chalamet, but the Browns were playing, so I could gaze at Myles Garrett. 

Nance:  Oh, Timothee Chalamet. He's just beautiful. And he does all the singing in this film.

Rick and Sam:  (no response; Rick is dozing; Sam is feeding Zydrunas some tortilla chips)

Nance:  You know, I'm old enough to be his Nana. Myles Garrett's, too. (sighs) I don't care. They're just beautiful to look at.

Sam:  Wait. If you could be their Nana, that means I could be...their DAD?! How could that work?

Nance:  They're 27. Their moms would have had to have them at like 19 or something. It has nothing to do with you right now. 

Sam:  Oh. Okay.

(Poor Sam--the Browns continue to look just awful this season. He cannot handle anything else during games.)

Now it's your turn. I can't wait to hear from you in Comments.

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I'm Voting Hard For Harris-Walz And Langston Hughes

 

Last night Rick and I were trying to watch television, and we were unceasingly assailed by political ads for Ohio's US Senate race. Even on streaming channels (YouTubeTV and Hulu), we can't escape them. I detest the person running for the republicans. It's no secret that I love Sen. Sherrod Brown, who's just an all-around Good Guy. 

Anyway, every time the republican's ads come on, I mute them and get snarky and truthy with them. I used to have to prompt Rick to do the same, but now he does it on his own. That makes me feel good. Last night, we had this conversation after back-to-back-to-back political ads for the Senate race.

Scene opens in Rick and Nance's living room. Nance is on the couch, legs tucked under her. Rick is in the recliner, sitting like a normal human adult. She rolls her eyes and points the remote, exasperated.

Nance: (mutes TV) Rick! Tomorrow is already October 1st. Early in-person voting starts October 8th.

Rick: (turns to her, waiting) So you told me.

Nance:  I can't wait. I'm going to be there on the first day. I'm so ready. And I'm going to vote so hard. I mean it. I'm going to vote so hard. What about you?

Rick: (very serious) I don't think I can vote as hard as you, but I'm going to give it my best.

End Scene

(I may complain a lot about his snoring, his lack of fastidiousness, and his corny sense of humour, but the man gets me.)

In all seriousness, however, this election and what's at stake made me think of Langston Hughes. Cleveland loves to lay claim to this Harlem Renaissance poet, playwright, author, and activist. He wasn't born here, but after moving around awhile, he and his mother settled here, he went to school here, and he did publish his first poem while living in Cleveland. I love his work, and I taught a great deal of it. His poem "Let America Be America Again" makes me think about what is at stake in this critical election. Because it's really this simple, as I said over at maya's place:  In whose hands do you want to place the fate of those who need our help?

I hope you'll read this moving poem by Langston Hughes. And I hope you'll vote so hard to 

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!

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Clearing Out My Cranial Clutter: Drugs For The Elderly, The Dress, And Marcel's Philosophy On Blog Comments

 Let's start right in, shall we?

After three days of suffering a vicious migraine that my meds would not even touch, I called my neurologist for a cycle breaker. This is a steroid med pack (6 the first day, 5 the next, and so on). I put on my sunglasses and drove the short distance to CVS to pick it up and gobbled the first 6 in the parking lot like an addict needing her fix. It was only when I got home that I looked at the attached paperwork and saw this very Disheartening missive:

I am the Older Adult In The Combination

Because I have reached The Magic Number, I'm now asked a bunch of questions I never got a year ago. Like Do you feel safe at home? (Honestly, I think every patient in the ER should be asked if they feel safe at home, don't you?) Anyway, so much for the whole Age is just a number philosophy.

 
Some of you asked to see my dress for Jared and Jordan's wedding. The photo isn't very good, but here it is:

Just imagine my head, arms, and legs poking out, and my feet wearing great shoes

What you can't see is that the skirt is split at the side wrap with cascading ruffles, and the front is shorter than the back, like a cutaway. Here is a link to the actual dress online, but it's not that great of a photo, either. Regardless, there it is. 

One more note about the wedding. Last weekend, Rick and I hosted the family along with Jared and Jordan's parents at the lakehouse before they had to fly back to Colorado. We talked more about the wedding, and I said I realized I didn't cry a single tear during the whole thing. Not one (and I had even bought waterproof mascara). Jordan said, "I know. I was watching you. You were so incredibly calm. But you were radiating Joy." I agreed. I said that I simply felt complete--contented and complete. I knew that everything was right and perfect about their marriage. I felt like I was watching the natural next step, the culminating event. I was just so happy.

Finally, during my Migraine Days this week, I was edgy and restless. I couldn't do much, but I didn't want to just sit in a darkened, silent room. I could read on and off, or watch television if it was something quiet. I found the movie Marcel The Shell With Shoes On, a film which had intrigued me a while ago, but I had forgotten about.

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 It's a lovely little film with an endearing protagonist and a dear, yet important, message that resonated with me. And it expresses my philosophy about blogging, specifically the Comments section.

Over at Kyria's place, several bloggers spoke about not answering Comments at all, and others spoke about not checking back to even see if their Comments had been answered. To be blunt, I find that dismissive and rude.

In the film, Marcel reluctantly goes online to find his family. Instead of receiving help, he gets fans and followers. At one point, he says something like, "This is an audience, not a community." And that's what those kinds of blogs are to me. People who don't engage with their commenters are just looking for an audience, not a community. Wouldn't a Like button serve the same purpose for them? I don't know. I know that I choose carefully who I read and want to spend time with.

Thank you for spending time with this broken down, yet joyful, old lady who feels quite safe in her home (both of them). 

Have you reached a Milestone Birthday, and did it come with some unexpected baggage? Have you seen Marcel The Shell With Shoes On? Do you cry at weddings? Chat with me (and everyone else!) in Comments. 

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

When I was in junior high and high school, I used to write my own Excuse For Absence notes and sign my mother's name. I had her full permission, always. She rarely wanted to take the time to do this herself, so she was happy to have someone else do it. Trying to get all of us to eat something in the morning and get us out the door to school was enough of a project without adding to the process. It is entirely possible that I wrote my brother's and sister's as well. Anyway, consider this post my Excuse For Absence from this space for the last four months.

In May I celebrated a milestone birthday, becoming an Official Old Lady. Thank you all (in the USA) for your contributions to the government coffers so that I can be a Medicare recipient (even though it took many irritating phone calls and one morning of standing in line in the cold sleet to prove to a clerk that I was worthy).

June found Rick and me in Niagara-on-the-Lake again, celebrating with our friends at our favourite winery and restocking our cellar. I started looking in earnest for a dress to wear for Jared and Jordan's wedding in September, a mission which proved to be nearly impossible. My requirements:  long or 3/4-length sleeves, lightweight, not clingy or tight, not black, not high-necked; and harmonious to the wedding colours of burgundy, gold, navy, pumpkin. 

The whole family spent Independence Day Weekend at the lake house. It was wonderful. Theo loves the boat, and we had so much fun together. To make it even more special, Theo said Mama for the first time ever! Once he realized the power of saying it, he couldn't stop. July ended with me actually finding my dress--two of them, in fact. The family came over one day, and I let them choose between the two. They all chose the same one. (It was the one I liked the least.) Here's the best part--I got it online from TJ Maxx on clearance for about twenty bucks. 

Another note from July--Unfortunately, in this month I also had a terrible fall. I was on a 6-foot fiberglass ladder on our new concrete patio taking a bird nest off the gutter. The ladder failed--it actually split near the bottom--and I fell about 5 feet. I never lost consciousness or broke anything, but when I felt my head, it was wet, and when I looked at my hand, it was full of blood. Luckily, I always have my phone, and it landed right next to me. I called Sam, who was at home three doors down, and he came right over to take me to the ER. I ended up with a mild concussion and five staples in my head. Thank goodness they didn't have to shave any hair off! It didn't take me long to recover at all.

View from my bed in the hallway, parked in front of this

In August we only made it to the lake one day. We were so busy with wedding things and babysitting Theo, who is such a happy, goodnatured baby. Rick finally got his insurance settlement from his accident three years ago. It was less than what we had hoped for, but at least this case is finally over. If Rick were younger, they said, the amount would have been more, but because he is 65, the lingering effects of injury won't have as great of an impact on the (shorter) remainder of his life. Insurance companies, huh? Nice.

Rick mowed, we took a boat ride, and then ate ice cream for dinner before going home.

On September 1st Jared and Jordan were married in the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. The ceremony was a very personal one, a perfect reflection of them both. I did a reading from Jane Eyre, a favourite book of theirs (and mine!)--an excerpt from Chapter 27, a bit of Mr. Rochester's impassioned speech. Their vows, which they each wrote themselves, were poignant and funny. And at the reception, Jared and I danced to "I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders.  Sam gave a heartfelt Best Man speech that made everyone know what a strong and special bond he and Jared have and just how seamlessly Jordan fits into it. It was such a joyful day. Oh, and Theo came down the aisle pulled in a wagon that gave Jared and Sam countless rides around their neighborhood so many years ago.

The next day we picked up Theo and brought him home with us for a few days while the newlyweds went on the Bourbon Trail for their mini-moon. I was catapulted back into my past, caring for a baby again, waking up at 5:30, making bottles, feeding, diapering, bathing, strollering, and watching the magic of a baby's body completely relax and give in to sleep in my arms. Sam came over every day at lunch and after work, much to Theo's delight. They are completely smitten with one another. When it came time to take him home and deliver him to his other grandparents, awaiting Jared and Jordan's return, I felt a real sense of loss (and exhaustion!). 

😢I miss that little boy.

This is a long-winded post, and I'm leaving lots of stuff out, mainly some Not So Good stuff. We all have those things that knock us off our moorings and take us out of ourselves for a time. The important thing is that we celebrate and remember The Good Stuff. 

As of August, I've been writing here for 19 years. A few of you have been with me for the whole time, and the sheer math of that astonishes me. You are dear friends to me now, and I'm grateful to have met some of you in person. I feel a sense of connection and camaraderie with my regular Commenters and Writers, too. We are a loyal and supportive clan, and I look forward to spending time with each of you every morning as I start my day. Now, I feel like my Real Life is back, and I am, too. Thanks for reading, and thanks for your affirming presence. Never forget that words are a beacon for many.

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