Operation Fatty Down

Today is the first day of “Operation Fatty Down”. Well honestly there has been some pre-prepping since the beginning of the year. We have been changing our diet and eating healthier meals, drinking a lot of water, cutting down on the carbs and eliminating soda. We are not dieting!! The minute I say diet, I start to eat like famine is going to strike tomorrow. No, we are changing our diet in order to be healthier people. Remember we are foodies and I personally like to eat. So it has been about making fantastic tasting healthy meals and we are doing great. Portion control is key and really thinking about what we are eating with each meal. It is a true adventure into the food arena, especially for folks who never think about the “real”contents of their food. There are some backslides but it’s all good and I know the next meal will be back on track.

Okay, so I woke up on fire this morning. It’s time to get moving!! Washed my face, threw on some leggings and a wrinkled top, laced up the sneakers (no socks, I hate socks) and headed out the door. We live across the street from Prospect Park, it’s a beautiful park, and I was determined to start my walking regime. 3.3 scenic miles around the bike/running path, let’s go. I ran into a neighbor, walking his dog, at the entrance. I told him about Operation Fatty Down and he wished me luck, pushed me gently onto the path and I was off and wobbling.

I have always wanted to live across from the park and here I am, on the path to health and a more slender version of myself. I breathed in the air, nodded smiling at my fellow walkers, joggers, runners and bikers and set off at a nice clip. Sidebar; Derrill and I have been walking as much as two lazy slugs can walk so attempting the three miles is not an unreasonable stretch. Hmmph

It is a beautiful morning and I am doing okay walking at a nice pace, communing with The Universe, planning out my day, my weekend, next week, and considering what I may want to do during the summer months. Now you would think that all of that mulling would take me pretty deep into the 3.3 miles, right? Nope, not even near the library yet. Turns out I am a pretty swift thinker and pretty slow walker. Sigh But I am feeling great.

As I pass the library and enter into unchartered territory, I realize that everyone and I mean everyone is passing me. Don’t get it twisted, I am passing no one. Old, old people are zipping past me. Two Grandma Dynamites whizzed past me so fast they kicked up some leaves and dust that swallowed me up for a moment. Really?!?! Oh and then as I get onto a really good stretch, a couple of stroke victims zoomed past me as if I were standing still. Hmmm, it’s okay, I am moving along, except that I can no longer see the GD’s or the SV’s anymore. I am going to concentrate on the glorious fact that I am in the middle of nature, with the lake on my left and wonderful grassy knolls on my right. Life is grand.

I have reached the 2 mile point and this is where my legs start burning and I know if I stop my feet will immediately swell like crescent rolls, so I keep moving and hope that this Operation Fatty Down doesn’t turn into Operation Fatty Face Down. It is at the 2.5 mile point that I realize I will make it and do you know what happened? My gait got stronger and I straightened up from the half crawl position I had adopted to that of the marathon runner who can see the ribbon at the end of the road. As I came around the last bend, I saw the ribbon and walked briskly to my starting point, closed my eyes, pointed my face towards the sky, thanked The Universe and wobbled off the path.

I stretched at a bench, patted myself on the back and flat-footed it out of the park to the supermarket to get fixins’for dinner. I also picked up some Special K and a couple of bananas, in for a penny… The bananas are a big deal for me because while I may like fruit, I never eat it and am always on the verge of scurvy. Thank God for wine.

When I got to my building, a nice pre-war, I remembered the stairs and almost blacked out. We are on the third floor. Oh boy. This must be some kind of bad joke. But you know, it wasn’t that bad, okay it was terrible and as I slapped my hand onto the railing of my floor, I knew one thing, I would be doing this again tomorrow and I smiled, alright grimaced and felt pretty good about starting something that is good for me, even if I felt like hell.

Who knows, maybe I might rejoin the gym…Oh stop that madness.

So here is to health and the wonderful knowing that I am making it happen all for me.

Never Let Me Go

I saw a movie last night called “Never Let Me Go”, a sci-fi romance. Although it isn’t presented as such, it was definitely one of the most disturbing films I have seen in a long time and I have been unable to think about anything else. I must add that it is beyond my comprehension why the people (clones) in the film wouldn't try to get away. In thinking it through I have come to the conclusion it is because they didn’t have anything to go towards and aren't clear about what they are running from.

The most disturbing thing for me about the film is that the clones are people who learn, laugh, love and cry. And, some question the terms of their existence. In order for a society to collectively feel okay about creating these beings and then taking their organs in order to prolong life, there was a determination that they did not have souls. They were merely vessels housing life-giving organs to the “real” people.

This made me think about our society as a whole and the measures that people go to in order to distance themselves emotionally and intellectually so that the belief of human inequality may exist and flourish. If we dehumanize or decrease the value of a race, it makes it easier to believe that your position is warranted when you breach the lines of ethical responsibility. And for me, more horrifically, is the subliminal and integral belief that this is true and all parties play into it.

No matter how we come into being, we are all equal, and for one race to expend energy or time trying to convince others that this is truth, is ludicrous and speaks volumes about conditioned learning and belief systems.

I would suggest that everyone look at this film because while it is sad and at times horrifying to the emotional sense, it is thought-provoking and perhaps will serve as an eye opener for some and will allow for a serious self-evaluation of their conditioned learning and belief systems.

Synopsis
At the beginning of the film captions explain that a medical breakthrough has permitted the human lifespan to be extended beyond 100 years. The film is narrated by main character Kathy H. who at 28 years old takes us through her childhood at an English boarding school and her adult life.

The movie starts at a seemingly idyllic boarding school.  Kathy has two friends Tommy and Ruth. It is here that you start to realize that everything is not as it seems. At one of the major points in the film, one of the teachers is fired after she tells the students that they are in fact clones and their only purpose, their entire existence is to provide donor organs for transplants. After they become adults they will be available for “selection”. After their third “selection”, they will “complete”. Some “complete” after their first or second “selection” and most don’t make it past the third “selection”.

There is one scene at the school that started the emotional landslide for me; there is a day when a delivery of boxes that hold a “bumper crop” of items arrives that may be traded for tokens collected by the children. Everything is laid out on long tables and the children, who are overcome with excitement, carefully examine everything and take their treasures back to their rooms to enjoy. The reality is that the items are all junk, toss-away things that no one would want.

Kathy falls in love with Tommy but Ruth seeing this takes Tommy for her boyfriend, thwarting any opportunity for a relationship.

There is a woman, “Madame”, who comes to the school and wants to see the artwork the children have done in order to determine if they have souls. Later in the movie she tells Tommy and Kathy that clones do not have souls.

It was somewhere in here that you realize they wear wrist bands that monitor their coming and going and will wear them their entire lives.

When they become teenagers, they are sent to a farm to live in cottages. They meet other teens who have come from similar schools. While no one at the farm seems to question the ethics of their situation, the three friends do want to find the people they were “modeled on”. A rumor has surfaced that if the clones can prove that they are in live they can “defer” their selection for a couple of years.

Tommy and Ruth are still in a relationship and Kathy who is very lonely and sad applies to become a “carer”, a clone who is trained to give post-operative care to others and receive a temporary reprieve from selection. By the time she has become a “carer” Tommy and Ruth have split up.

We fast forward and Kathy has been a “carer” for some years and is now 28 years old. She reunites with Ruth, who has made two “donations” and is very weak. She has been keeping track of both Tommy and Kathy and helps to arrange a reunion.

Ruth confesses that she did not love Tommy and seduced him because she was jealous and didn’t want to be alone. She believes that since Kathy and Tommy are in love they can get a “deferral” and has the address of “Madame”, convincing the couple to go to see her to make the request.

Ruth "completes" on the operating table shortly afterward.

Tommy and Kathy drive to visit “Madame”. There is no such thing as deferral after all and the couple is devastated.

Tommy is selected again to make another donation and "completes." Kathy is left alone. Two weeks after losing Tommy, Kathy is notified that her first "selection" will take place in one month. Contemplating their childhood, she speculates whether their fate is really all so different from the people who receive their organs; "We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we've lived through or feel we've had enough time."

Spinning Wheels

Sometimes, I think that routine more than fear of change is what keeps people on the same spinning wheel.

I’ve been thinking about that recently and dug back in the old memory archives for something that would give me a visual of this thought. I finally found the one memory that allowed me to play this out; with what resolution I am not sure, but something must be decided.

Growing up a few of my friends had hamsters and a couple of them had the spinning wheel in the cage. I remember sitting on my friend Hope’s bed watching her hamster Ben running and spinning the wheel and thinking, after I got over the fascination of it, that it looked kind of dull and definitely tiring.

Hope added a few other “fun” things for the hamster to do but after an awful lot of sniffing and running back and forth, Ben would always go back to the spinning wheel. Why? Was it was easy and he didn’t have to learn anything new or maybe because the new “fun” toys really weren’t that much fun? Hope did spend a lot of time trying to get him to try the new things and even took the wheel out of the cage. Ben sat like a lump until the wheel was returned.

Perhaps her rewards system was weak or maybe Ben was just a creature of habit. I do know that there are a lot of “hamsters” aka people out there on the old spinning wheel and I wonder what keeps them there. Is it routine or fear or is routine fear?

It is a question without a clear answer today because I am mulling over my own routines and feeling rather snarly about them at the moment. Why? Because, I have some routines that aren’t leading me anywhere yet I find them comforting. I stood looking out the window, sipping a cup of tea and thinking, “hmmm, this isn’t going anywhere and I think I am wasting time, big time, and that is not good”.

So for today, routine is on my mind and I need to make some hard, fast decisions about these routines because I “fear” they have me on a spinning wheel and I have never liked things that spun.

Whitney

I always say that I am not really interested in what goes on in the lives of celebrities and people that are not in my immediate circle.

Well, Whitney Houston died yesterday afternoon and I had to re-evaluate my thoughts about my interest in people; mainly people who populate our airwaves and screens and how their existence plays an important role in my life.

Reading the thoughts of people posting on Facebook yesterday was enlightening as most offered prayers and expressed sadness at her early demise. Others had harsher commentary and it seemed thought she got what she deserved as a substance abuser.

I am not an avid fan of Whitney; yet I do know her music and have danced to and lustily sang her songs. I have seen and enjoyed all of the movies she has been in and re-watched them on television. I have watched with sadness her descent into the hell that is addiction. I have cheered her on as she gamely tried to fight her way out of that hell. And…I have nodded knowingly as she would fall back into that pit.

I am not here to judge anyone; all of our journeys are individual, private and ultimately what defines us when we leave this crazy splendor called life. Even those who populate the public eye are working out a private journey; it is just one we can see played out on the big and now little screen. We are all watching each other’s private journey play out day to day. It is when we are open to the possibility that some of us will fall and may never get up that we learn tolerance. I cannot berate you for your weaknesses when I possess so many of my own.

Addiction. Fortunately for me, my biggest addiction seems to be the love of a pork chop. I know addiction first hand; growing up with an alcoholic mother and sibling. Addictions ravage not only the people living out that horror but everyone around them, in ways more numerous than I care to expand. Almost everyone I know has someone in their lives: immediate or extended who battle some type of addiction. It is our process, evaluation and determination of it that makes the difference.

The passing of Whitney gave me pause and allowed me to do some introspective work that I needed to do and here is what I have come up with from my midnight musings.

Simply this; Whitney had a beautiful voice and face. She was excellent to look at and to listen to and she made a difference. She made a difference in my life because she made me pause: pause when she was on top of the world and at its underbelly. A gift was shared, perhaps in a way that isn’t immediately clear to all of us looking in at this short span of life. Whitney could have gone underground when her world was unraveling but she stayed where we could see her and perhaps that is the gift she left us; a reminder of what can and cannot be, what should and should not be and what is and was.

Understanding is what is key as we wish her farewell. Understanding of a life lived perhaps not the way we would but one that affected some of us anyway. We pay homage to her by listening to her music and perhaps reliving a memory her melody brings to mind because more than anything Whitney evoked emotion and that is a true testament to life.

I hope that many, many, many years from now when I leave this amazing globe I’m remembered for good things done or said and that the not-so-nice things are either a lesson or reminder to those who care to take a moment to remember me.

Rest in Peace Whitney, may your spirit find a new home that keeps you smiling and singing.

LIONS - GRRRRRR

So I was standing on the train station platform today and found myself casually looking over my shoulder to see if there was perhaps a lion sneaking up behind me. Crazy right? Who thinks about things like that. I do and here is why.

A couple of years ago I watched a movie on tv called "The Happening" with Mark Walhberg. The earth was retaliating for all of the bad things people had been doing to it and strange things were going on with the trees whispering to people to do themselves in and in rather nasty ways. There is a scene, where after what I am sure had to be an inordinate amount of whispering, a man goes into the lion cages at the zoo and tries to pet them. After losing both arms, I think he realized that might not have been the best use of his entrance ticket. Needless to say, the image stayed with me and overnight I developed an unreasonable and all encompassing fear of lions.

Now what do we all think is the likelihood that I will run into a hungry lion on my way in from the supermarket or drycleaners? hmmm I am going to go out on a limb here and say zero. Does that dissipate my fear in any way at all? Nope, not a whit.

What am I going to do with this fear? Nothing. What can I do? It's ridiculous. I know that and you know that, but...sigh.

I had seriously thought about carrying a big rump roast in my bag to use as a diversion. You know, throw it at the lion and then run while they were occupied with munching. But after a careful inner debate, while standing at the butcher's counter in the grocery store, I realized that if I did that I would move into a new kind of crazy. So I carefully backed away from the counter and tried to think of what my other options would be. REALLY!?! Nutjob.

I say this because I was thinking about fears that may stop us from doing the things we want. I don't stay inside because of this insane fear that I have of lions. Good grief, even saying that sounds crazy. But some people might. My thought is that we must do things in spite of being afraid because at the end of it all, our fears are usually ghosts, these transparent whisperers that can hold us in place unless we decide not to listen.

So yes, I will occassionally peek over my shoulder or carry that rump roast, but I am still going outside and maybe just opt to run like the wind. Grrrrrrr

I think I can out run this one!

Passion

Okay, so I really try to live my life with passion. Not always easy because the daily grind of living can really suck you into a mediocre abyss. You know, get up, shower, get dressed, go to work, get coffee, have lunch, play around on the web (sneaky highlight of the day), get your coat, say goodnight, get on the train, head home, make or order in dinner, check Facebook and other various sites, settle cheeks into the corner of the sofa and then go to bed. Whoo Hooo Good Times!! hmmmm I don't think so.

Now of course you may pepper some of these days with shopping at lunchtime, going to the post office (Really?!? I haven't bought a stamp in over a year, but hey its an activity) or if you are really ambitious going to the gym for a lunchtime class (you are ninja, if you do this). Ahh and the best addition is going out after work for cocktails. That really shakes the schedule up. Now if you aren't wise and have one too many, then you wobble home, eat some cereal because oh boy are you starving and must eat something. A trail of Toasty Oats follows you to your bedroom where you pass out on the bed. When you wait up and take a look in the mirror you are confronted with this...

and realize that you just can't hang the way you used to and know that its going to be a long day. So its shower, get dressed, got to work, blah, blah, blah.

I'm not with that and try really hard to introduce something new and exciting and though-provoking into each one of my days or daze (ha ha depends on how you look at it) It must be something I am excited about. A new experience. And that means stepping outside of my comfort zone. I always say I am never bored, although I have been in some boring situations but here is the thing, I will get my coat and leave. Oh well. Sorry. I just don't have the time to waste. If its boring and I stay, there REALLY must be a good reason and the benefit needs to be immediate.

Why am I saying this? Because after the rosiness of a new year starts to fade, it is very easy to fall into the old familiar trappings of what makes up our days. It is safe to stay the same and I don't want to be safe. I want to be scared and thrilled. I want to not know how my day will end. That on my train or bus or cab ride home I am coming from someplace new, that I met new and interesting people and had new conversations. I want to be constantly surprised and I want a lot to think about. I want the excitement of the world to propel me forward on my own personal journey. And it is clear that I have to seek that out and make it happen.

A couple of years ago, well more than a couple, now that I think about it (it is all one long day to me, a good day, but one day) I had a tattoo put on my arm just above my wrist. The tattoo is the Japanese character for Passion. It is a daily reminder to me of how I want to embrace this journey of life.

I was on the train the other day and a young Asian woman (maybe 21 or so) was standing in front of me, I was leaning against the door holding onto the overhead rail, and she was staring at my tattoo, then she looked really closely into my face. Now she had to look up at me, because I am pretty tall, 5'10", and she wasn't. She smiled at me and I smiled back. It's nice to smile. Anyway, when she got off the train, she touched my arm and said, "You will have a happy life". So I said, "Oh, thanks". And she was gone. I felt great after that. Why?! Because a complete stranger took one moment to say the very thing we all want, happiness. It was really a confirmation for me because I am already happy and in her one brief comment, she added to that happiness.

So here it the thing, find your passion and your happiness. Make your life full. Don't expect anyone to do it for you because these two things you must do for yourself. Make this your never ending adventure and your life will be amazing. Start by looking up at the sky everyday and smiling.

Art - The New Black

I went to the Outlaw Group Art Show last night at the White Box on Broome Street. It was mobbed. I had to wait on line for a bit but it was well worth it. You were greeted with a glass of bubbly when you first came into the space and pushed into the crowd. We all know that I love a little bubbly, so I knew I was off to a good start. The artwork is fabulous, created by a number of talented upstart artists, who were in attendance and looking excited and hopeful.

There are a number of things that I am determined to do this year and keeping true to my word and experiencing everything that I can are just two. My friend Paul has art in this show and I said was going and I went. First I stopped in Chinatown to buy fish and meat and ended up with a bag weighing at least 25lbs. Lugging that thing around with the veins bulging out of my neck was not fun but the bubbly did put me in a better frame of mind. Did I mention that I am sadly out of shape and desperately need to exercise? It is on the long list of to-dos.

What I loved about going to this show is the level of excitement that was pulsating all around me. I didn't know anyone and never found Paul but it didn't matter. Everyone was smiling and open-eyed and supportive of the artists that were showing. Here is the thing, I don't have any issues doing things by myself but I know a lot of people do and I guess it can be a little scary venturing out on your own. Trust me when I tell you, that you have nothing to worry about and here is a little secret; when you are on your own, you can completely absorb everything without interference. It can be quite liberating.

On the other hand, hanging out with friends new and old while you enhance your cultural palette is very, very nice too. I have re-started my museum club and dubbed it, The Adventurers Museum Club. Check it out on Facebook and become a member. Look in Docs for how it works. Our first outing is on January 27th and we are going to The Museum of Sex. Whooo Hoooo. http://www.facebook.com/groups/327272357297746

I've already gotten word that people I have never met are coming and they are very excited. Let the adventure begin.