It’s been a rough week.
· Monday, finances hit a bottleneck
· Tuesday, sick kid & a deadline to meet
· Wednesday, three-hour board meeting
· Thursday, fallout from the Wednesday board meeting
· All on top of a full work-week and personal projects that need constant tending
Friday morning arrives and defeat from a failed project and overwhelm about future projects weigh in on me. Doubt and regret brew in my early-morning coffee and I grumble to my kind-hearted husband who pointedly stands clear as I grab an eight inch knife to cut the breakfast Cantaloupe. Life would be so much better if I didn’t have to deal with other people’s mishegas! (Who hasn’t had that thought at least once?!)
I have got to get a grip so I opt for walking to work (not appreciating the fact that I actually have that option) I wonder and ruminate asking the universe why people act the way they do. The answer comes at once: Opera.
Humanity is a messy ball of wax. We cheat, we lie, we triumph, we lament, we love, we sulk, we fall and we get back up again. Opera embodies all this, it takes our feelings and literally gives them voice. As I schlep I plug in Mozart’s Don Giovanni. From the first terrifyingly thrilling chord I am pulled out of my mind-chatter and suddenly notice that I’m enjoying the walk. I listen to Leporello complain about his job;
Notte e giorno faticar
Rest I’ve none by night or day
Scanty fare and doubtful pay
Ev’ry whim I must fulfil
Take my place whoever will
I myself will go accounting
I the gentleman will play
But with him no more I’ll stay
No,no! But with him no more I’ll stay
Hey, at least my days are not filled with babysitting a sexual psychopath on his journey to destruction. Immediately I feel better about my own situation. The behavior of people that annoyed me an hour ago now seems almost cute. Donna Elvira makes a ferocious entrance seething about the recent ill treatment she has received:
Ah che mi deceemai
Where shall I find a token
To guide my steps to thee?
My heart is nearly broken
The world is dark to me
Ah! If he stood before me
Fiercely his vows I’d spurn
The love that once he bore me
Can never more return!
Donna, darling, we have GOT to talk!
The grip on my negative attitude is released and the self I know and love emerges as Mozart takes my hand and graciously accompanies me up Sixth Avenue.
Grazie Maestro, grazie.
Thanks to Mr Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart at Blogspot for the libretto translations
My definition of a lovely lunch: Start with a fresh apple (Fuji is good) cut into slices. Add several chunks of a favored cheese like Asiago Fontina or Port Salute and a slice of good artisinal whole grain bread. Fill a small dish with natural peanut butter & place a few select pieces of dark chocolate next to it on your plate. Brew up a decent cup of Earl Grey tea & find a spot where people will leave you be for a while. I like going to Bryant Park on a nice day or slipping into a vacant office to gaze out the window onto Manhattan island while I feast.
You will enjoy the many culinary combinations you are able to make; apple & cheese, bread & cheese, peanut butter & apple, apple & chocolate, chocolate & bread, chocolate & peanut butter, chocolate & peanut butter & bread! The tea helps bring it all together in a harmonic syncopation that warms your entire body.
This makes for a delightful, healthy & impressive lunch that powers you for the remainder of the afternoon.
Have fun & get inspired to improvise.
It is with sadness that we announce the passing of Clyde Carp the 18th, descendant of the famed gangster, Fish Bowl Charlie, and his consort, starlet of the great reflective pool, Goldie Carp.
Clyde led a colorful life as a student in the local fish tank hopping from school to school. His final gig was in a Jewish house of worship where he met Bonnie Cyprinidae Hadassah who was performing as Queen Esther at the Purim carnival. They settled down together in the home of Aaron Newirth, a student at the synagogue Hebrew school.
Mr. Carp died peacefully in the middle of the night nestled between the large colorful marbles in the spacious fish bowl that Bonnie & Clyde had moved into just the day before his untimely passing.
When questioned by authorities the two cats who reside in Aaron’s home, Calypso & Zephyr, were found to be innocent. “I had nothing against my fine finned friend,” Calypso was overheard saying “in my humble opinion he really added to the enjoyment of my day.”
Clyde is survived by Bonnie Hadassah.
Condolences may be posted in the comments section to Aaron Thomas Newirth who was truly distraught this morning at having found the dearly departed.
A private burial will take place for immediate family at sundown.
Saturday night while absorbing the disturbing news pouring out of Arizona I reached my own breaking point. Having personally tolerated the media vitriol for much too long, Jared Loughner’s action only confirmed my fears that enough “Fox Newspeak” would cause damage in the world. So I did something I try not to do; I picked up my mobile devise and opened up Twitter to post an angry entry. It was a simple statement;
“#giffords and all the collateral damage is tragic & I blame #palin.”
I put my phone down and got ready for bed. By the time I crawled under the blankets I saw my phone blinking. It’s hard to resist that little light tempting you with every passing wink so I took one last look and found a note waiting for me on Twitter.
It read; “and if anything happens to Palin, I’ll hold you responsible, hypocrite”
I could feel the ire rise in my gut as I re-read the message. The hair on the back of my neck pricked with indignation and my comportment became that of a cat ready for fight. I felt under attack just as assuredly as if this guy were physically coming at me with a 2×4.
I am a nice person and I try to stick to relatively benign posts because I really don’t like stirring the pot that much but hypocrite?! Was I being hypocritical? No, I don’t think I was–based upon my understanding of the definition of a hypocrite*. But I had to ask, after berating myself for posting under the influence of rage, was I in the wrong somehow? I decided to sleep on it rather than fire back an off-the-cuff reply. Needless to say I did not sleep well that night. Visions of Twitter feeds slipped in and out of my awareness. Vague feelings of aggression and fear tugged at my temples. Witty come-backs and impassioned diatribes filled my mind as I composed the perfect Tweet to this twit from Texas.
Morning came and in my hazy grogginess with phone in one hand and coffee in another I swyped my reply.
“the day I run national ads citing violence on specific people u may call me hypocrite. Ms. P must account for her words & deeds.” And I went on with my day. I found myself checking Twitter more than ever before in my life. There was something thrilling and maddening about this cross-country argument before an audience of anonymous millions.
The day passed and as the sun set his reply came screaming out of the ether into the devise I was holding in my hand; “actually, twitter is international. Your insipid comments know no borders. And you are asking for violence against Palin.” Several things happened for me in that moment. First off, I got pissed. But the longer I studied his message and gazed at his profile picture taken while he was driving his car the more it dawned on me that here was a human being. He was obviously passionate about his beliefs and maybe he had just about enough of this nonsense too. Compassion welled up within me. He didn’t like my post, I reasoned, it was perceived as a threat to his beloved former Governor of Alaska. Maybe all he wants to do is protect her. I tried to understand how “blame Palin” had become translated by this guy into “violence against Palin”
I don’t want anyone to get violent on anyone. I never called for that! And the moment of clarity rang ever deeper: this man is not responding to me. He’s responding to ‘the other’ that I represent for him. The ‘other’ that he learned to mistrust and fear and hate. Truth be told I was relating to him in the same light.
My urge to counter attack lessened. “i never said that, you did” my tweet began. “but u r right, I was reactionary & should know better than to post a Tweet when upset. Peace”
End of conversation, for him at least. To date, I’ve never heard back from him which actually makes me sad. The following day I sent him a message:
“so let’s open up a new dialogue. What is your take on the attack on Rep. Giffords? What do we learn from this?”
Then 8 hours later:
“I’m honestly looking for common ground. I want to hear ur thoughts about our current situation. Repairing the world starts here”
And the next morning:
“sad that you seem to only want to insult & not engage in genuine dialogue. I tried.”
Don’t ask me to explain why I still carry this guy around with me but I do: a young Republican, active in his Texas community, probably religious. I wonder what he’s like when he’s not warding off evil liberals like me. I wonder if we’d enjoy each others company if we met and agreed to talk about anything but politics. I wonder what he reads at night. I wonder if we really could just get along.
*hypocrite-adj: 1- a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion. 2- a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings.
Cited from Websters Dictionary.com