I just deleted all my old posts

 I clicked the little box that chooses all my blog posts and I hit the trash can icon. 

I guess it's a way of saying that my life has a need to be refreshed. It's been refreshing and going through a heckuva lot of changes since my husband died almost 3 years ago and I started mourning him. It hit a huge milestone on the freeway of change when I started a full-time job in a profession I thought I'd turned my back on.  I'm now the news director for a radio station in Annapolis, Maryland. I find myself saying out loud to people "I love my job." 

I looked into the job because they had a need and I had the skills. It was as simple as that. My skills were sitting there, in the back of my mind, just waiting for the opportunity to be awakened. Unlike when I was fresh out of college, those skills are seasoned by experience, time, and being willing to learn from others. I have benefited from my relationships, some closer than others, with journalists, commentators, writers, and newsmakers.

Some might ask if you love your job so much why did you not stay with your profession. One might think that would be easy to answer. There is a simple answer. For the uninitiated in the art of love, preserving relationships, and sacrificing for the sake of others, it's hard to understand. But, what if I told you that my heart knows that I did what I needed to do for the sake of another's soul and that I'm okay with my decisions? 

I can hardly believe it myself.

If I am anything or nothing, at least I'm honest. Some say I go with G-d. Maybe that's true? 

Talk amongst yourselves.  

 

News from my sister--there isn't any...and other musings.

No news means it's not over yet.
My last post was about feelings of sympathy for my oldest sister who has been visiting a comatose friend in the hospital. Nothing new to report. My sister deals with her pain in what seems like a solitary-fashion to me.

Meantime, my parents visited a dear, decades old friend of theirs who has Alzheimer's.

Yup--my family has had less than fun times.

Some of my friends are having less than fun times as well. Just heard that a friend has been out of touch since December because she's been dealing with "elder care." Another got sick and had to be quarantined away from her husband with M.S.

Time is a warped thing. You grow up thinking about what things, events, milestones in life that are important. But, like a sand castle, easily toppled by a charging child, a gentle wave, or a gust of wind--those things just sort of disappear. They can be money, career, ambition, or dreams. So, with the naive dreams of a gal who should know better I write--can't we all just get along?

I'm getting so tired of the Presidential political poopy-poo. I'm getting so disappointed that real things that can assuage the anxieties of so many aren't getting discussed. I'm getting sad about the foreclosed homes on my block and directly across the street from my house.

I want to hear young children laughing and playing, not crying because they have to move.

Gosh. How I do adore those closest to me. So, I feel for them. I wish them all the gentleness of younger, healthier times -- times that are more exciting than they realize. I wish them the times that I hope they can one day look back upon and wistfully dream about.

The stuff you think you'll only experience by watching a TV drama

My oldest sister is visiting a friend, one she's known since Junior high, who is now in a drug-induced coma, in a Long Island hospital this morning. She's not going to come out of this coma. This is part of her dying. I know how close my sister and this woman are. They double dated together, cut class together, shopped, shared their life's pleasures and worries, everything friends do.

How do you say so long to a friend like that?

This was a person who shared in the delight in learning about your life's triumph's and shed tears with you when you sobbed about the disappointments. You didn't just invite them to your wedding, you made them part of your ceremony. If they got pregnant before you did, or got their period before you did, or knew of a doctor that you should go to, they were there. They were just there.

I don't know how not to cry when thinking about the tears my sister is swallowing so that she can drive on the Northern State or the Long Island Expressway to visit her friend, and walk through the hospital door. I don't kow what kind of anguish she is in when nobody is around. But, I think I feel that anguish now.

It just is.

Dr. Phil--just go away.

You heard the latest about Dr. Phil and some alleged "rouge" members of his staff bailing out a 17 year old girl-bashing teen. The staff were "reprimanded." Sure. I believe that. They were yelled at for getting caught!

Watch the FX TV show Dirt? If you do you see that the tabloid-zine depicted actually encourages staff, from writers, photographers and gophers, to do whatever it takes, to get a good story, photo, what-have-you to sell copies. (Just as long as the expense account doesn't suffer TOO much from it. But, they do buy lavish gifts to bribe sources and spend more money than most of us do for groceries.)

Well, don't tell me that Dr. Phil, who seems like a real control freak to me, didn't know that his producers would stoop to bailing out a teenager in order to get her on the air. Producers have to fling some "dirt" sometimes to get good guests. I've even heard (ok, overheard) some cable news outlet producers discuss what it would take to get celebrities to show up for events, that were OFF camera, in order to make their hosts happy.

Well, blame the lack of ethical-fortitude on supply-side economics. If the hosts, audiences, and networks suits didn't want the type of guests that we all gawk at, like the proverbial traffic accident, "rogue" producers wouldn't still be on the payroll at the Dr. Phil Show.

I'm just sick of the man. I didn't quite get what made self-made billionaires, Harpo, go gah-gah over him. I didn't think he offered anything that my own father didn't already offer. But, my dad has a less than charming (but very charming and warm to me) Brooklyn, NY accent, and Dr. Phil sounds like a cartoon character. I guess we tend to gawk at him too.

Why I don't blog much....

My friend, Chickaboomer, of Chickaboomer blog fame posted an entry on how blogging may be dangersous to ones health. The New York Times wrote an article on it that you can find here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/06/technology/06sweat.html?ei=5065&en=1c3f36a3531123cb&ex=1208059200&partner=MYWAY&pagewanted=print
I started working out of a home office, in part, because I wanted to be less stressed. But most bloggers, who get paid for their writing, do it from home offices, and the article details the death by stress, or by unhealthy living habits that can develop when a person works from home.
Chickaboomer took some time off. I don't post much when I'm busy writing for clients.

The Internet has inspired new ways for people to keep tabs on one another. There's a Twitter account linked up to this blog. If I was so inclined, I could have text messaged to Twitter, an hour ago, that I took my 14 year old dog walking with a kid who is off from school today. Her parents work. She's hanging out with her grandparents and uncles who live across the street from me. She's got nothing to do other than to play video games, watch TV and hang out with my husband and me and our four dogs. Reading books isn't tops on her list. Well, she is in third grade. She might not have developed the reading skills to be able to get absorbed in the types of books that are as exciting as video-gaming to the hard rock-n-roll of the 70s and 80s; or shooting bad guys out of her anamorphic alter-ego. The good news is that she doesn't have the broadband access that will allow her to get hooked in the alter-worlds of social clubs on the Internet, including reading Twitter or blog posts.

I've often pondered in my writing here whether I would have anything worthy to muse about when compared to all the other blogs out there. Now I know I shouldn't worry so much about that. The volume of my posts don't earn me any money. My paid clients couldn't care less about my inner thoughts. I write for my own pleasure, mostly, and as a release of creative forms of thinking--or an outlet for my free-thoughts; those not tide to work that I'm (hopefully!) paid to perform.

How about you?

Just testing this clipart.

I've been searching on the web for some art that would go with my website...to give it a little animation when I post new stuff. How do you like the star?

Garnet got his license for 3 more years.

It is with great pleasure that I announce that the honorable Garnet the IV has had his federally sanctioned assistance dog license extended for three more years.

Garnet is the second assistance dog that my husband, Chuck Rich, has been blessed to have been teamed with by the fabulous folks at Canine Companions for Independence.

Last week Chuck and I attended a workshop for puppy raisers in our region that includes Virginia, Maryland and Washington, D.C.. There were easily 20 dogs, ranging in age from 12 weeks to at least 4 years old. I'm so proud of my "Mr. G" He didn't get all goofy and silly at the sight and smell of these puppies. He was in full uniform and was very disciplined.

Ok, he did sniff and touched muzzle-ever so briefly-with a rather petite hearing-assistance dog, a very pretty yellow law mix named Maya. She's a great working dog and her person, Kara, is very much in love with her. Kara also told her story. Maya has that same look of self-assurance and "I'll take care of you, friend" in her eyes that Garnet has. No wonder they touched muzzle!

The whole idea of our being at the workshop was to inspire the puppy raisers that no matter how hard the training may seem at this time, no matter how hard it will be to give that puppy back and turn-in to CCI, they should feel very, very proud of the role the played in raising the CCI dog.

Chuck and I both spoke to the puppy raisers and while we were there the CCI staff assessed how well Chuck and Garnet worked together. The result: Mr. G and my "Mr. R" have had their federal license renewed for three more years, which is the longest extension you get before you have to be tested again.

I started to choke up at the end of my presentation. You see, it would be very easy for my Mr R to not venture out in the world as much as he does. And, I don't know what it's going to be like to grow old with a man who is paralyzed from mid-chest and down. (I often misspell parplegic so correct my spelling if I got it wrong.) But, this dog is strong enough to help him move around, by pulling him in his chair. And, he cannot wait to get up and carry stuff for us. He loves working. He wakes up in the morning in a great mood, and reassures me whenever I spot him looking at me or being my "watch dog." Now, that's what he does for me. What he does for Chuck, Chuck will have to write about one day.

I've always been a dog person, ever since I was young. If you go to the Rich Dogs blog on blogger.com you'll find some of the posts I've written about my connection to my pet dogs. (Yes, Garnet lives with three other dogs and is part of a dynasty of great dogs that have graced our lives. And,I mean it. They've all graced our lives.)

I've got anxieties about the future that Garnet, and his predecessor, Greg, have helped calm. I wish everybody would look at a dog in a work vest the same way I do. They are my heroes and my best friends. I respect them. In return, they give me so much more.

CCI Dogs

Went to a puppy training presentation today in Columbia, MD with my husband Chuck, and his faithful helper dog, Garnet IV. I'm so proud of my husband and his k-9 partner.
More on this tomorrow.

PS3---you sure got a strange way of signalling a firmware update..

Ya know!
Some of the most infuriating things that occur on a regular basis to me these days is when a piece of technology, or a machine that I've grown to depend on, stop functioning for no apparent rhyme or reason. And, so it was with the Sony PS3 player. It's not that I have time to play games. We got the game console because it was the most affordable way to get a BlueRay disc player.

So, we're minding our own business, trying to watch a movie, and because we bought a high def monitor (before the law required they had to be tv recievers--it doesn't have an hdmi in...just a pc in, which we use a hdmi converter plug, so we can get the video from the PS3 to the high def Samsung monitor---a monster of a screen, as big as a typcial kitchen table.) In order to get audio, in full surround sound glory, we plugged an optical audio chord from the PS3 into our Sony receiver. And, it was working great! Then.....it stopped working great.

After fooling around with setting, and swapping chords, and searching-via Google of course- for any messages online from other PS3 users, I suggested to my husband that he once again check for a firmware update. See, he had already downloaded an update.
Well, wouldn't you know it? It needed another one.
And, the audio, magically came back.

Why oh why did Sony set up the PS3 to have technical difficulties when a firmware update is needed? Why aren't we "sent" the message some other way? And, if they were going to make the audio pooping out or the video going crappy the default signal that a firmware improvement needed to be downloaded, why wasn't this made abundantly clear to the PS3/blueray disc viewer in the first place!

False eyelashes...

I've got to be brave....yes..I've got to be brave.
Well, not too brave. After all, a few posts ago I wrote about how vanity will probably be saving my life. I told you all about how I started exercising regularly to look better, and as a wonderful side effect, it's controlling hypertension (don't tell my health insurance company--they'll find a way to raise my rates. Pre-existing conditions are very damnable, indeed.)

Well, now I'm considering throwing out the brown/black mascara that I've been using since I was 12 and buying my first pair of "falsies."
There..that's my brave confession.

No. Not those.

Look at the photo-wise ass. I don't need THOSE falsies. Heavens no.

False eyelashes. How lady-like of me.

I'm just finding that many women are wearing these things. And, they don't smudge!

And, I just did a google news search on False Eyelashes....girls are now getting their lashes permed! Do you get triple the wish power when you blow one of these suckers off your finger tip when they fall off after you wash your face?

Now, I realize I'm way behind in my beauty news. But this is Rita's Musings. You're more than welcome to talk to me about this post,my twitters and other social networking messages you've found that I've put out there in the vast digital traffic jam.

Hello Hollywood? Can you try to trump reality? Holy Cow!

http://ehrenreich.blogs.com/barbaras_blog/

I just read this post and the comments about this post.
My friend, Marty Davis, of Chickaboomer blog fame pointed me in this direction.

What is the old saying about reality being stranger than fiction?

Seems that she who would be president is part of a Christian Fellowship "hell bent" on taking over the world! No, I'm actually exagerating for effect.
Seriously, folks. There is an elistist group of public officials, who are members of an organization called The Fellowship, who regularly pray together both on Capitol Hill, and in nearby northern Virginia. And, Hillary Clinton is a member. From what I read, the services include a rather dramatic interpretation of a piece of classical music, written by Waggner, having to do with the Holy Grail.

Well, Holy Cow! I'm not kidding, Hollywood. Can you trump this? You've tried.
But, truly...reality kicks it all up a notch doesn't it?

Paterson--Oops.

Well, I liked the guy. I just didn't know that he "liked" me. In case you missed it: Paterson AND his wife both admitted to having had extra-marital affairs. The latest twist is that Paterson is paying back his campaign war-chest some $250 dollars he used to pay a hotel bill for one of his assignations. Just google the story for yourself. I'm having trouble inserting hyperlinks to one I found at www.newsday.com









Now I'm reading about Detroit's Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick. He was on TV with his wife, apologizing for the pain he caused her by shtooping a senior aide.

I don't know what to say about these men of power and influence that hasn't been said before. It doesn't take a brilliant commentator to ponder the influence of a nation's or world press/media that enjoys talking about the personal problems of public figures--as well they should. I'm all for exposing hypocrisy. I'm all for the reporting of public funds being used to pay for hotels, motels and other things a person needs in order to have a tryst or screw around on ones spouse. These guys/gals call for everybody else to be "transparent" and "accountable." But, then they are surprised when reporters remind them that they to have to follow the same rules.

Arrogance can be the downfall of civiliazations and empires and as these public officials are learning, careers

Spitzer--Prostitutes and DC--and David Paterson

How ironic....I just picked up a book that a friend of my husband's bought for him, years ago. A book from the 1950's called Washington Confidential written by old newspapermen named Lee Mortimer and Jack Lait. Once I got through the shock of reading words such as, "the Negro problem." (Does my computer not know how to even spell the word "Negro? Is it even in spell check?) the authors stunned my naive 21st Century sensitivities by writing about how lonely and desperate are Washington professional women that one wonders why men would buy sex from whores! But, they did write that, and then went on to talk about the white ones and as they put it, "their black sisters." So, big woop! Madams and their prostitutes inhabit the Capitol.

So, today's shocking news (reporters were gasping, we're told) that Eliot Spitzer cavorted with a New York prostitute, whom he imported down to DC to have a dalliance at the stodgy Mayflower Hotel doesn't surprise me. Why, if you believe the two Washington Confidential newspapermen that's been going on ever since the first hay sucking legislator rode the first carriage in from the foothills, and into the District of Columbia. It's just too bad that a former Attorney General, the self-proclaimed Sheriff of Wall Street, thought with the little brain in his pants, instead of the one encased in his skull.

I don't know much about Eliot Spitzer, other than what I've read in the papers and from what I've heard from some knowledgeable Dems inside the Beltway. I hope he didn't use government funds for his dalliances. If he didn't, it's between his wife, and three daughters and him. If he did, New Yorkers will have to face the fact that once again, a politician they voted for, fooled them and isn't worthy of their votes.

I met the lieutenant gov of New York, David Paterson, at a progressive Democrat function two years ago, and found him to be very open to speaking to former New Yorkers, such as myself, and anybody else, who would strike up a conversation with him. He's visually disabled and sometimes the disabled don't have many people who are willing to talk to them. But, I'm a former New Yorker. And, he was open to hearing my ideas and thoughts about things, and was interested in learning where I was born, where I grew up and what I'm currently doing. Want to make friends with me? Ask me to talk about myself! He didn't act as if he expected me to know all about him, or his history, like some important people do. I didn't feel like he felt I was out of place by asking him lots of questions about himself like where in Brooklyn he was born, went to school, and what his Dad did for a living. He very openly explained without any of that big shot-attitude that I've come to expect from some public officials, about how he was currently serving in the same State Senate seat that his Dad served in, and how his father, when he was a kid temporarily, if I remember the story correctly, moved the family to Queens, when David as a kid so that David could get a good education--one that would work with him and take into account his disability. I remember that Paterson told me that his Dad made it clear that when the time was right the family would be moving back to Harlem because that was their community.

Well, that's as close as I'm going to come to the Spitzer scandal.
I wish Spitzer, Paterson and all the personal relations these two men have, luck with it all. I guess the ultimate lesson that should be learned is that the more power you assume in public life, the more exposed to scrutiny you are. You better live a cloistered perfect life because mistakes are too easy to make any other way.

I hope that Spitzer doesn't have to step down. But, if he does, I can say that I met Governor Paterson before he was even Lt. Gov and I liked him. New York will be in very good hands.

It's been nearly two years....

....since I posted "One More Voice in Heaven"
and today I got an e-mail informing me of a comment left by Kurt's daughter.

Back then I was working for just a year on my own as an independent contractor, "gun for hire," in PR. I had recently had my gall bladder removed. I was dealing with a pet who had a chromic illness that later killed him. Our country was dealing with just over 2,000 dead in Iraq and I think we started to forget about our, and our allied countries', fatalities in Afghanistan.

Since then there have been many personal and some professional experiences in my life; some that I've dared to write about in this space, most that I've kept inside.

I suppose I suffer from being "inside the beltway" syndrome. One dare not share too much with the universe, at least not without the non de plume of "anonymous," lest it get dredged up from the muck of forgotten history and used against you in a dreadful way.

But, it's not just politicians who shoot back to you things you wish you hadn't written, be they e-mails, letters, blog posts, newspaper articles. It's business associates, and friends, who when they think they're being exploited or hurt wish to remind you of your words, search their archives and then with italices rub your nose in your own prose.

Now, don't get me wrong. I've had to search my e-mail to remind a former employer of his remarks that "we are true to our word," in regards to him rolling over 401K plan money that I didn't even realize that I was entitled to. Six months later I still haven't seen that money in my self-employed retirement account. I'm ok with using his own words to remind him of his commitments to me. However, he still hasn't acknowledged my voice mail and the e-mail that I sent him about this matter of a few hundred dollars. I suppose he's been very, very busy .

But, when you get your words back from people whom you think you've had cordial relations with, who you think trust you and even like you enough to ask you to work on a project it's a little bit disturbing. Oh, all is forgiven on my end. I understand that business is stressful and that managers have to hold their charges feet to the fire. Still, a burning toe hurts!

Well, let me send out another message to the world---Hey! I know you're out there reading this. By now you might have gotten that I'm a gentle soul, hard working, in need of more work that actually pays me money. I'm pleasant enough that everybody wants me to volunteer my time for their special cause. But, unfortunately my bank, credit cards, mortgage and grocer won't let me volunteer instead of paying them with legal and tender currency. We all need to earn a buck or a few thousand of them a month.

Hey world? Care to send some work in the direction of this gentle muser? And, perhaps you can actually pay me within 30 days of getting my bill?

And, oh, world? With the state of the U.S. dollar these days, think that my friends overseas will want to hire me?

Well, as Kurt Henschen might share with me, this downturn, too, shall pass.

Meantime, I'll use my extra time to take care to see a dentist, enjoy the gentler days of the waning winter in my part of the world, and to finally post another blog.

RR

Politics...

I've been avoiding writing about politics. It's hard to say something original without giving away my personal beliefs and party affiliation. Those who know me know that my affiliation is very transparent. I am what I am with no apologies.

I must confess to liking the spectator sport of politics. But, it often makes me wonder about the dexterity of our brains. Why do we forget so fast what we've heard in the past and have unwavering feelings that:
a) people can change their minds?
b) people can change what's in their guts - their convictions?
c) people can learn on the job - and we'd elect them "president?" Remember in olden days they used to call them apprentices or interns.

Well, America, we're in the thick of it. Don't lose your heads over the celebrity personas that these men and woman have.

Benazir Bhutto assassination-famiiar feelings

In a previous career, I met friends of Bhutto, who have written their own blogs about her death, her career, her devotion to Pakistan and the politics that she inherited from her father. When you get close to people who are great in their own right, and who are friends with other great, historic, or soon-to-be historic figures in world history, well, that's pretty heady stuff. I was fortunate to have worked in the news and talk radio industry and when you work in an industry that provides a conduit for media exposure you meet some very important people, and people who would be important. As a result, when a great person is murdered, I feel for the people I know who knew that person. I had those types of feelings during 9/11, except I actually knew some of the people who died both on a professional and personal level. Today I have the same sense of sorrow for those who shared conversation and friendship with Bhutto as I did for my classmates, and colleagues who lost loved ones in New York and at the Pentagon.

Additionally, I recognize some of the names and voices of those who are asked to comment on her death as I either booked them to appear on talk shows that I produced or represented them as a publicist. Indeed it's something else to feel some link, even if it isn't that direct, to world figures and news events.

I guess it makes me think about the small world we all live in, and how there really aren't that many degrees of separation between all of us, and the powerful few, or elite, who claim control over all of our destinies.

It's the Day after Christmas Day...New Year's Resolutions, anyone?

I really don't like resolutions. They seem to set you up to not do them. But, I suppose it's good to have reasonable goals. Here's one: I'll get back to going to my Curve's club 3 times a week, even if it means that I have to work out with the sourpusses who work out when the club first opens, 7:30. They don't like the music loud or driving, and they intimidate the club staff into silence. They just want to go through the motions in obstinate silence and if you don't like it you can show up later--like some of us have all the time in the world to break from whatever we're doing to show up later. I might just have to finally set up a two year-ago model of an I-Pod that my husband got me, and program my own workout music. Any Curve's goers know this can interfere with my ability to hear the command, "Change stations now." But, a gal has got to do what she's go to do. I'm just sick of being sick.

Next: make an appointment with my dentist and get my old dentist, one that's not in my current health insurance plan, to pack up my records and send it to the one who is in the plan.

Happy Holidays

http://www.sallylogue.co.uk/

Chanukah came and went with me being worried about some health issues. After some outpatient surgery, in which the anasthesia knocked the heck out of me, I'm feeling better, although I'm still dealing with backpain, most likely, the result of socoliosis, specificially, the curviture of my lower, sacral discs ofmy spine.

My husbands been dealing with a very harsh cough and possibly bronchitis. It's finally starting to show signs of letting up. We're babysitting for a visitor, a beautiful black lab named Morphias-aka-Mo'Mo'. He's a 3 year old-a puppy. Full of energy, always wanting to play, who has a bit of a Mommy fixation.

Thanks to Sally Logue, an artist in England for posting the portrait you see in this post. You can find her here: http://www.sallylogue.co.uk/


May you live life with great pets, and animals whose only goal is to better understand you better

I'm a part time staffer for a radio reading service for the blind, visually impaired and physically people who cannot effectively read print. And, I often fill in over the holidays. I have some time to sit here and think about the whirlwind of the past few weeks and to add to this blog.

I've been shying away from politics, policy and other controversial issues lately. Frankly, I've been too busy working and trying to wrap my mind around organizing my life and household better. Finally, I'm feeling a little more relaxed. I suppose that comes from being confident in the jopb that I'm now doing, while writing this blog. Also, my husband's friend is a very good doctor, and he put my mind at ease about what some previous lab results have shown.

So, back to me talking to you: I hope that you enjoy these holidays, despite the problems, and challenges, that may be weighing heavily on your mind as they weigh on my mind.

Blog Topics--

I was pondering why I find it safest to blog about entertainment, sports (or "sport" for my friends across the Atlantic) and books.

I work in an industry that often uses blogs in order to keep clients interested in them, their thoughts, their credentials. So many blogs, in order to be safe from copy-infringement accusations, post links back to websites, and other blogs, where they've found the stuff that they write about. This can be a dangerous thing. For instance, you want to "wow" a client with your brilliant thoughts, and you write a blog about a project, and how similar projects fared, complete with links to words about this similar projects---and those links take you back to your competitors. Well, how do you keep your clients from getting competing proposals, that can threaten your livelihood?

I suppose you've got do a "Smith Barney"--that is, "we make our money the old fashioned way. We earn it." Your competition might cut its rates to get your client, but if you know your client, understand their "institutional history" and make an effort to have face-to-face relationships with them I believe you will keep your clients. They'll see you as part of their team. And, that takes work, and most clients want to see you working for them. Well, that is, well, unless your clients keep pushing you back and then you have to face the facts---you don't have them as clients any longer.

Tofurkey--and it was good

It's so easy to make I don't want to talk about it, lest it diminish my efforts to put together THE Thanksgiving meal.

I can get it only at Whole Foods, in my neck of the woods. I'd love to get it at other stores because I'm sure the price would go down for this meal. I often feel gouged, well, a wee bit, whenever I go into a Whole Foods.