BUSINESS 101

Many years ago I determined to NEVER go near a retail business again. After twelve years of a personal struggle with a business, successful in spite of me and only because my husband was a dynamo of energy and optimism, I loudly conveyed the stress I felt while managing the office and bookkeeping part of the adventure.  In fact, I wrote a poem in the 70s about that very subject. To set the stage, I repeat the poem:

 

Want to own a business

You say you like that

Let me introduce you to

Business 101, let’s chat

First and most important

Is to have an idea born

One that you can master

And even then I warn

Just around the corner

Is another real smart guy

Who has the same idea?

Or at least he’s a good spy

Second is the bank account

Must be six figures high

Budgeting a new business

Shoveling smoke from the sky

Then there’s human resources

That’s people to do the work

Their troubles never go away

Their cost, demands, and perks

Next comes the vendor problems

That’s where you get your supplies

They always want paid on time

What a problem, so do I

Then there’s customer service

Now it’s called consumer needs

No matter you own the business

He’ll show you who’s in the lead

The bank wants an accounting

The accountant tells you to lie

The IRS wants everything

You get a small piece of the pie

Still haven’ t learned this lesson?

Let me add, no vacation time

Twenty-four-seven, and then some

Three hundred sixty-five, your prime

I’ve been there with HIS OWN BUSINESS

Wives, let me tell you true

When he says he wants his own business

Tell him to do it without you

Now that it’s crystal clear how I feel about the retail business, I will come to the point of this discussion. Recently, my caregivers, Robyn and Tracey, have embarked on the journey of becoming antique dealers. It all began when my sister died in Texas, and we brought home some family heirlooms in the form of antique glassware. Tracey became obsessed with research about the origin and age of the pieces, and as a result of this exercise, she became knowledgeable and discovered a yearning to become involved in the antique business. They joined a glassware group and began lurking on estate sales, telemarketing in antiques, and trying their hand at picking winners in the antique trade world.

After two years they have accumulated a sizable inventory of antiques, collectibles, and memorabilia. As the inventory overflowed into warehouses, first one, then two, they realized the love of antiques and estate sales had opened the door to a goal of an antique store to enhance their retirement.

With their public school careers still the focus of their lives, they work steadily in their spare time proceeding slowly with the establishment of the business. Since I live in the midst of this industrious adventure, I have become interested in their endeavor and find myself cheer-leading the entrepreneurship of a new retail business. Rue the day, we’ll see.

Bayou Menagerie Antiques opened three weeks ago at The Westbank Market in Harvey. The market’s hours are 9:00 to 5:00 on Saturday and Sunday. The first three weekends resulted in optimism that will, hopefully, continue throughout the summer. The store boasts of a variety of items, vintage, antique, and upcycled. With enthusiastic proprietors eager to bring the antique lover and his favorite, sought-after antique piece together, they are available by phone, online, or in person at the market. If you live in the area, look up BAYOU MENAGERIE ANTIQUES and stop by to browse.

Although not the best venue for book sales, they provided a corner for me to display my book titles. I hope to be there with my pen poised to sign books (as long as I can stand the heat) for anyone who may be interested. You may find me there on Saturday and after Church Services on Sunday. Somewhat optimistic for an old lady - - as I said before, we’ll see.

ANTIQUES

The official definition of an antique is “an old collectible item that is desirable because of its age, beauty, rarity, condition, utility, personal emotional connection, and/or other unique features. Such objects represent a previous era or time period in human society.” In recent months, antiques have become the item of constant discussion in my space because my caregivers are deeply involved in establishing a new business, Bayou Menagerie, which will include all forms of aged items. Refurbished antiques possibly re-purposed for contemporary use will be unique to their inventory.  Robyn and Tracey spend many hours studying information to gain knowledge to recognize value and quality. They also travel extensively to view estate sales to purchase or simply learn more about the business.

I find the study of antiques to be a fascinating mystery. A small, low to the floor rocking chair and a lovely silver tea service brings to memory the scene of the lady of the house (shorter in stature than her descendants) dressed in uncomfortable girdles and petticoats dutifully serving tea to her afternoon callers. The small chair is evidence of the changing size of humankind that has evolved in recent years possibly because of better health, exercise, and dietary habits. The magic of touching items aged with use and still beautiful from care of previous generations conveys the mystery and awe that inspires the collector. Those who deal in the sale and survival of aged items have a different more emotional attitude toward their profession than the normal retail entrepreneur. Without exception, they become more emotionally involved with compassion and historical interest in their transactions. A truly unique profession.

Referring again to the definition of antique, notice the personal emotional connection and focus on the value of relationships. An adage often referred to is, “The most valuable antiques are old friends!” As a member of the “golden” generation, I find this adage to be close to my heart as I revere many old friends that certainly qualify as “antiques.” As we live through a period of time rampant with disrespect for others, whether it be an organization or personal, perhaps a moment to reflect on this behavior is crucial. Contention and discord  destroy relationships.  Perhaps  a truthful review of our attitude toward each other will shock our nation into self-examination that will change our direction. Build relationships that will result in antiques in the form of old friends!

 A warning to all of us who share this planet – while we fret with great concern about “climate change,” perhaps equal focus should be proclaimed for how we treat each other. What have we gained if we provide a healthy environment, but fail in human relationships, having no treasured antiques in our future in the form of old friends? A lonely, Godless world indeed. Divine inspiration admonishes, “Therefore, all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets." (Matthew 7:12)  More simply stated to those who are unfamiliar with the Bible, this is the golden rule, “Do unto others as you would have them do to you!

THE UNANSWERED QUESTION

                      

With the dawn of April, 2017, spring is upon us following the mildest winter in several years, now fading into history, for the New Orleans area. Evidence of spring rises before us with the warm breezes and blossoming of nature. We welcome April with warm showers to bring us closer to May flowers. Unfortunately, the change in nature seems to be the only progress evident. Government deadlock continues to cloud any vision of improvement the 2016 election promised. A virtual kindergarten of incompetence prevails among elected officials.

Spend only a few minutes reading periodicals and newspapers, or listen to radio or television to observe the level of ineptitude permeating Washington. Soon you will hear about the “unanswered question” that may be asked and answered at “the end of the day” if at least one or two government officials could get on the same page.. Tomorrow, repeat the same routine, and you will hear the same drone from reporters, pundits, politicians, and the man on the street.

Give this a few moments of serious thought. What is the “unanswered question?” What is the question? What is the answer? Nobody knows, but everyone is searching. One of these days they will find the question. Then, just maybe, they will stumble on the answer to the “unanswered question” that seems so elusive. It occurs to me that everyone expects the answer to that question is the fix for every problem facing the nation and the world. The answer will bring world peace, feed the poor, provide comprehensive health care, show us which bathroom to use, return the coal miners to work, clear the nation of turbulent weather, control the price of foreign trade, eliminate climate change, defund Planned Parenthood, disconnect Russia’s cyberspace connection, convert Islam to peaceful cohabitation, bring peace of mind to Paul Ryan and the Republicans in Congress, settle the Supreme Court Justice debate, give the Trump family a day of rest, reduce the national debt, raise Melania’s neckline and access to sequins, cutoff Donald’s twitter phone, and build the great wall so “We can make America Great Again.” It would be wonderful if we could prescribe a pill for Washington and everything would just go away.

However, keep searching, Washington. You haven’t asked the right questions, stumbled on the right answers, or found a solution in a timely manner in 240 years. Why should we expect changes now?  Somehow, in spite of you, the politicians, we, the people, seem to keep level heads, look after each other, and in general, survive you, THE IVORY TOWER, we pay to support on April 15^th annually. Lately, you have failed us BIGLY by allowing our back yards to be overrun by problems from outside our national boundaries. You have wasted our wealth with self-serving decisions that benefit YOU instead of the American people, and you have diminished respect for America in the eyes of the world. Shame on you, Washington!

 My answer to that “unanswered question” is to build a wall around Washington, DC, confining all government officials inside without a gate to go in or out. Then, we can have our guns and Bibles, work in peace without useless government regulation, do what we want in our own bedrooms, choose our doctor, and arrange for term limits on government elected officials. Maybe after a year or two of confinement living with each other like the rest of us do without all the perks, government will find the question, work out the answer, and do the ONLY job required of a central government. Keep the nation safe with rules of law to bind us together in strength, facilitate a military force, and assure us a peaceful, orderly environment that allows us to pursue our dreams.

However, don’t hold your breath, America!

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH!

 

March marks the time of year that normally begins the transition of weather from winter to spring. Folklore describes the explosive weather that may occur at this time of the year as “If March comes in like a lamb (calm weather), March will go out like a lion (stormy unsettled weather), or the opposite being March comes in like a lion and will go out like a lamb.” I don’t know how much accuracy may be attributed to this adage.  However, as a child, I do remember noticing that many times it worked out to be true. At least, it’s a fun game to play. In my part of the country, March began like a lamb with sunny skies and warm breezes. Remains to be seen if the month will end in lion fashion. New Orleans has experienced a warm winter with very little “coat-time” and many days of lion-like weather including unusual tornado action. Only God knows what the future holds

 The planet is warming? I agree, but only in part caused by human behavior. In my opinion, the universe moves in seasons in the same way the sun and its planets move in seasons. For this reason, hundreds of years could pass as the universe moves in the summer of its seasons.  We can look forward to warmer, hotter weather, vicious summer-like storms (both winter and summer), rising oceans, and blistering sun especially near the equator. Is true climate change caused by humanity, or the nature of the universe? Humanity is limited in what can be done to change the pattern ahead. I do not believe we can legislate or regulate our way out of climate change. We simply must endure the changes and adjust our culture to meet the challenges while doing our best to protect our environment.

March records few holidays of interest. However, especially if you are Irish, you will enjoy celebrating St. Patrick’s Day on the 17^th. St. Patrick, a legendary Catholic hero of fourth century Ireland, died on that date, and he has long been remembered with the wearing of bright green for the Emerald Isle. My Irish Mother, who could explode into temperament often ascribed to the Irish red head, my fiery-red-headed brother, Donnie, my second brother, Bob, who didn’t share the red hair, but possessed more than average the aggressive temperament of the Irishman, my out-spoken sister, Joyce, whose golden locks filled me with envy, all passed into eternity except Bob Halstead, whose pearls of wisdom can be viewed daily on Facebook, will be remembered as long as I live with unconditional love. Although I’m not Catholic nor do I celebrate saints, I always enjoy the memories of the wearing of the green on March 17^th.

“Beware the Ides of March,” said the soothsayer in the Shakespearean play, Julius Caesar. The term “ides” as defined means to divide as referred to calendar division of the months of the Roman calendar proposed by Caesar. The ides occurred every month on the 13^th or 15^th. However, March became the harbinger of superstition as the 15^th brought assassination to Caesar. Many other events of tragedy or mishap are attributed to that date. Generations of superstition followed with those who cite the “Ides of March” as a time to beware. My very superstitious Dad would not plan or agree to any event with risk in the month of March. Major surgery became necessary and should have been performed in March, but he waited until April citing “the Ides of March” as his reason. His superstition, commonly held by his generation, has disappeared with the enlightened wisdom of the present day. Or has it? I’ll let you decide. Have a happy, safe, uneventful March always being aware!

A MEMORABLE VALENTINE'S DAY

As we grow older, our calendar of remarkable days grows longer and often more precious to us. Many treasured Valentine celebrations have decorated my life, but the following story relates the most memorable in my life’s journey. Thank you for allowing me to share this memory with you.

Awakened by the shrill sound of the alarm, I jumped from the bed and headed for the bathroom. As usual, my brother had the room occupied, and I sat down on the edge of the bed to wait. Like a flash I remembered today was a special day. I raised my hand and the diamond ring sparkled in the morning light. The memory of the cold December evening when, my high school sweetheart of two years met me after work in Galveston, our usual routine on Tuesday evenings.  I climbed in his old 1940 Plymouth, a relic of the past, but it served as transportation with a payment he could afford. Quite a handsome “Prince in shining armor” dressed in his Navy Uniform with steel blue eyes that could make my head spin, he greeted me with a quick kiss, and we drove to a Drive-In restaurant where we ordered dinner, a hamburger and fries served by a car-hop.

As we relaxed in the comfort of the old Plymouth enjoying our dinner, we discussed the movie where I would go alone while he attended a compulsory Navy Reserve Meeting. The Korean conflict raged in 1951, and he expected deployment soon.  As always, news of the war dominated the conversation – not a particularly romantic scene. However, the moment became a memorable event in our lives as he pulled the ring from his pocket and said, “Let’s get married before I leave.” The next few weeks were hectic with parents to please and so many weighty decisions, but as the war news darkened, and the military draft expanded, the future became more fragile to our young hearts.

“You can have the bathroom, Betty Jean.” my brother interrupted my reminiscing.

“Okay, have a great day,” I responded and immediately claimed the bathroom to prepare for the day of work. A beautiful sunrise greeted me as I relaxed in the car with other passengers bound for Galveston. The chatter among them that morning included remarking about the old sailor’s adage, “Red in the morning, sailors take warning.” As I gazed out the window at the angry waves crashing on the Galveston Causeway, I noticed the dark ominous clouds gathering in the distance. Weather predictions were unreliable, and the sun sparkled on the water with the promise of a beautiful day. I thought, why did I agree to work today? Of course, we needed the money.

My boss greeted me with, “Bring your pad, we have some letters to do,” and I set aside personal thoughts, diving into my day of work. Early in the afternoon, the dark storm clouds moved in with high winds, thunder and lightning, and torrential rain. We had arranged for Shep to meet me at 4:00 pm. Old town Galveston is below sea level and protected by a seawall, and a torrential rain storm guaranteed deep water in the streets. I had been delayed and waded out of this area on several previous occasions. As I looked out the second story window to the street below, my heart sank. This no doubt will be one of those days.

I thought about the old 1940 Plymouth. Rain and water in the street would most certainly be a challenge. We had often teased about how it struggled to run even when the dew was heavy, but somehow I knew Shep would be there. This was our wedding day. After wrestling with indecision knowing deployment was imminent, we settled on Thursday, February 14^th at 8:00 pm. We had rented an apartment, arranged a three day weekend, invited a number of friends, and the hour was near.

With the crash of thunder and streaks of lightning flashing through the windows, my fellow employees gathered around my desk to honor me with gifts and best wishes. As I opened the gifts, a power outage occurred, and I remembered the comment about bad luck for the bride the rain falls upon. However, anxiety and excitement prevailed, and I struggled down the dark stairway with my gifts where, indeed, Shep waited at the curb in the deep water. He kept the engine running knowing it would never start again, and together we managed to get the packages and me in the car. We greeted each other with “let’s try to get out of here” and began the trip home, about thirteen miles. With torrents of rain pouring through the front panels, we were just as wet inside as outside. The old engine sputtered, stopped, and finally started again several times as we rolled through the streets of Galveston to higher ground.

“You should’ve stayed home today,” Shep shouted over the storm raging and thunder crashing.

“Yes, but we needed the money,” I snapped back noticing the stress levels were rising. “With all the advice I’ve heard today about bad luck with the rain, the ceremony on the down stroke of the hour, and the bride and groom seeing each other, maybe we should just call it off.” My voice cracked with emotion as I felt tears near the surface, and fear mounting in the midst of the rising water. Shep reached over to pat my hand.

“We’ll make it.” I would learn over the years that optimism was his finest characteristic, but didn’t always serve him well.

“You keep your eyes on the road; what you can see of it,” I sobbed as I trembled in the cold air (the heater didn’t work) and shifted with discomfort in the wet seat. At last we reached high ground and the thirteen mile, thirty minute trip took two hours in the slow traffic and poor visibility. Arriving home at 6:00 pm, my mother, and others who were preparing for the wedding in my parents’ parlor, grabbed me and shoved Shep back out the door into the raging storm.

“Where have you been? Do you know the time?” I burst into tears and sharply reminded them of what it’s like in Galveston on a rainy day. They expressed sympathy rushing me into my room where I collapsed on the bed. I remembered the joy of this morning when I sat in the same place. What a difference a day can make, I thought. The door opened and neighbors, along with my maid of honor, slipped into the room and began thrusting clothes and words of encouragement to me about how I needed to hurry. Someone shoved a sandwich in my hand; I took a few bites and set it aside feeling the nausea rising.

“I’m sick,” I said as the tears returned. Thinking of all the bad luck signs, I felt a reprieve remembering that for a bride to cry on her wedding day is good luck. Someone handed me Kleenex and said, “Wipe your eyes and get into this dress.” I followed all the instructions and sat before the mirror looking at my image (another sign of bad luck). That’s really not me, I thought, but just then my Dad knocked on the door. We embraced and he whispered, “I love you.”  Somehow, his words reassured me with renewed courage. As I heard the Wedding March in the background, I summoned all the poise I could muster as he escorted me down the hallway to begin my future.

The storm continued to rage with thunder crashing and lightning flashing as Shep and I said our vows. However, later after the reception, we stepped out into the night to leave; the rain had stopped, the clouds moved away, and the moon cast a silver shadow across the old Plymouth revealing the decorations our friends added to assure the whole town would recognize the newlyweds, and they had to do this in the rain storm. We dove through the shower of rice, slipped into the still very damp seats, and waved goodbye to the guests. The old Plymouth struggled to start in the aftermath of the storm, backfiring with a loud boom from the potato stuck in the tailpipe, the engine responded sputtering with the gear changes until it finally moved down the road dragging the load of noise making tin cans tied to the back bumper.  Of course, the noise attracted neighbors on the streets who waved and wished us well as we drove into the night on this special Valentine’s Day sixty-five years ago.

GOLIATH AND THE IVORY TOWER

Once upon a time, there lived a nation of rational folks who dwelt in houses, some of them spacious and elegant, some medium-sized but nice, and others smaller and maybe not so nice, although usually a comfortable roof over their heads. Most of them owned a car or truck, or at least a bicycle. These normal folks were composed of families with a father, a mother, and children. Fathers worked, mothers cared for the home, children attended public schools with honest, loving teachers who taught them how to read, write, spell, count, and treat each other with respect, but left social values to be taught at home. Fathers and mothers cared for their young’s physical needs, discipline, and nurturing which included spiritual training.

When the children grew up, they left home, found a job, and created their own homes and families. In that world every able-bodied man and some women worked, every worker paid taxes, participated in his community, and voted for leaders to maintain order and keep the community safe. Parents taught their children to be civil, law-abiding, respectful, concerned contributors to their communities. Homes provided consistent counseling and a loving safe space. Medical facilities were available, dependable, and paid for by the patrons who used the services. Communities arranged for infrastructure, care of the indigent, law enforcement, fire protection, and entertainment - all paid for by the citizens. Where did that nation of normal, rational folks go wrong?

First, as the population and the community government grew, leaders lusted for power creating a monster, we’ll call it GOLIATH,* that built an IVORY TOWER** named Washington. Disregarding the needs of the rational folks who blindly paid to support Goliath, they took advantage of the situation and found loopholes to enhance their own pet projects and bank accounts while they multiplied like rabbits and dug into their holes. Living sumptuously, they refused to leave even when voted out. Divided into factions pandering to the rational folks to take sides, Goliath thrived on confusion.

Second, although across the oceans that served as natural protection, the folks became closely involved with other countries that are ruled by their own covey of Goliaths who built even more powerful Ivory Towers and decided to intrude on their neighbors with physical abuse that ended up in huge disputes. 

Third, soon the Washington Ivory Tower began to struggle over who is the greater Goliath. With little knowledge of Goliath, the folks took up arms to fight just because the Ivory Tower told them to. Fathers and sons left their homes and families and crossed the ocean to help the little Goliaths destroy the big Goliaths. History supports the need to eliminate cruel and inhuman behavior by some Goliaths although many times unwise decisions prevailed.

Meanwhile, mothers became breadwinners, leaving children alone, homes neglected, and communities changed forever. Many fathers died in the Ivory Tower wars. Womenfolk shared motherhood with staffing factories to supply armor for Washington. Having tried this method of control more than once, perhaps the folks should have asked questions and demanded more accountability.

Soldiers that survived came home. Women refused returning to full-time homemakers after joining the work force with all its perks, and the little folk, well, they became latch-key kids. Divorce began to invade the homes. Some parents no longer shared mutual goals. They built bigger houses with each family member in a room alone with a television, an electronic game controller, and a cell phone. The family dinner table disappeared along with family interaction. Churches were replaced with bars, dance halls, and cultural arts events. Families demanded two cars, Sunday dinner at the favorite restaurant, and a work-out at the local gym, along with many other materialistic toys that pleasured them. Everyone selfishly demanded the right to do his own thing while our Legislative and Justice Branches enacted an unprecedented liberal agenda.

Meanwhile, Goliath continued to multiply in Washington while the folks, distracted with greed and wealth, paid little attention to the ideology.  And they totally ignored the powerful Goliaths across the oceans. Education improved with the birth of high-tech, the young submerged in pleasure with God eliminated from society in general. With new methods of communicating, boundaries all but disappear into a maze of cell phones, internet, and jet planes.

No barriers, no fences, no morals, and more Ivory Towers and Goliath everywhere. As fate would have it, an especially wicked Bantam Rooster arose having a different goal, he began to torture and kill, even beheading many folks, while attempting to frighten them into submission to his seditious views. The Washington Goliath wallowed in the Ivory Tower wringing their hands with anxiety while they contrived schemes to coerce the folks to protect their dynasty, and largely ignored the wicked little Bantam Rooster who soon grew into a huge Goliath.

Finally, it became time to vote again. With little choice of candidates, folks survived the contentious year of campaigning between the two chief Ivory Tower Goliaths, Donald and Hillary. Will wonders never cease? Unexpectedly, Donald became the top Goliath. The loser and her followers refused to fade into their burrows quietly; instead they multiplied shouting obscenities, carrying signs, protesting all over the world – even across the oceans where the dispute was generally none of those folk’s business.

As top Goliaths continue to rattle their swords, otherwise rational folks became completely irrational in behavior shouting at the top of their lungs; Goliaths spewing falsehoods about each other, and absolutely no one is listening - it’s simply noise. Chaos rules and reason is abandoned. Again, the question, “Where did the folks go wrong?”

With a bit of research and fact-checking, the issues begin to surface. The Washington Goliath, along with many other world Goliaths, played with the rule of law and buried its gigantic head in the sand, allowing too many abused, suffering folks to overflow into peaceful territories, instead of staying in their own territory and taking up swords (perhaps with some help from others) against their leaders, abusive, dictatorial Goliaths, who continually stir up dissension so they can prosper in their lustful, greedy quest for power.

Meanwhile, the Goliaths spar with each other instead of seeking solutions, the wealthy elites and Hollywood vipers comfort each other with obscenities, while the wicked Bantam Rooster, who killed for pleasure, has evolved into a huge leopard creeping around the world, terrorizing all the folks, enslaving them in their space.  The question that stands out is “Where were the world’s democracies when the severely suppressed folks needed them, how did this out-of-control situation explode with the supposedly active United Nations guarding the world against such behavior, and should we continue to support the UN when they have failed in their mission?”

Perhaps the real question is not “Where did we go wrong?” but “What can we do to fix it?” Repent, folks, which means to admit failure, resolve to change, and actively search for solutions. Will we stumble and fall again, yes, but rational folks rise up, keep their eyes on the goal, and above all, keep Goliath caged letting him know who is boss, “We the People.”

Remembering the words of a Goliath of the past, Admiral Yamamoto said in 1941, “I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and filled him with a terrible resolve.”*** Wake up, be reasonable, be vigilant and cautious,SLEEPING GIANT, unless you want another rude awakening.

*    A giant soldier from Gath in ancient Palestine, Biblical story , I Samuel 17
**  A state of privileged seclusion or separation from the facts and practicalities of the real world.

***Quote following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

REMEMBERING E.T.

On Saturday night, I joined with my family at the Orpheum Theater in New Orleans to enjoy the music of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra in their production of the music sound track to the classic movie E.T. A unique idea to adapt the score for live performance while viewing the classic film. I cannot improve on the note from the composer, John Williams that appears in the program. “Steven Spielberg’s film, E.T. the Extra Terrestrial has always held a special place in my heart, and I personally think it’s his masterpiece. In looking at it today, it’s as fresh and new as when it was made in 1982. Cars may change, along with hairstyles and clothes…but the performance, particularly by the children and by E.T. himself, are so honest, timeless, and true that the film absolutely qualifies to be a classic.” Referring to the Orpheum performance, Mr. Williams further states, “What’s particularly  special about tonight’s concert is that we’ll hear one of our great symphony orchestras, the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra, performing the entire score live, along with the complete picture, sound effects, and dialogue.” I completely agree with Mr. William’s note of confidence. His score is beautiful, the movie is magic, and the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra excels in performance.

   

Enhanced by the charm, authenticity, and excellent service of the Orpheum (my second visit for this unique art, the first being, Wizard of Oz, several months ago), I particularly appreciate this form of renewing remarkable memories of an earlier time. Quoting Mr. Williams comments as he concluded his remarks, “I know I speak for everyone connected with the making of E.T. in saying that we’re greatly honored by this event…and I hope that tonight’s audience will find great joy in experiencing this magical film.”

I know I speak for my family when I express my gratitude for this incredible evening that brought to memory a nostalgic era of the past. Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Williams have indeed created a magical event for all generations to enjoy. And the exceptional talent of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra adds to the perfection and excitement.  As the music combined with the intense action portrayed on the screen, suspended above the orchestra, drew to an end with the final overture performed while the credits rolled down the screen, I found my mind drifting back to the 1980s trying to remember just where we were in the space programs, and how much did we know about space at that time of the E.T. venture.

Recalling my experience working in the early space program (refer blog, Dare to Dream, 4/17/16), I realized that by 1982, NASA experiments with the Space Shuttle were well underway following the Apollo program that resulted in the moon landing on July 20, 1969. An optimistic future for the space program seemed evident. However, beginning with the Challenger accident in 1986 and several succeeding failures, the enthusiasm for pioneering suffered a huge setback. World affairs and softening of the economy defunded NASA and America abandoned space exploration. Presently, a private company struggles with the research and development of a positive space future, and we can hope they will succeed.

In the era of E.T. sightings of unidentified flying objects were common and stories of abductions by space men (usually thought of as little green men) were bantered about in tabloid newspapers. On occasion, a story would be reported by the news media and especially surrounding the often discussed elusive Area 51, supposedly tucked away in the desert protecting secrets for the government. Many science fiction stories filled our book shelves speculating about space travel and extra-terrestrials. E.T. is a magical fantasy surrounding children even as other science fiction stories have done. With no claim to reality, it simply portrays the link between children and the fantasy world with a touching story of the love that developed between the young boy and the space creature. If other life exists in the universe, and I believe it's possible (I find assuming the earth is unique, and God’s only creation, is questionable and limits His power), we could hope that men will control the quest for power and greed and react with caution when confronting extra terrestrial life, carefully creating an environment where the innocence of E.T. could be nurtured. However, in our present world, optimism is difficult in view of the aggressive nature of mankind.

In summary, the beautiful magic of E.T. continues to be loved by generations of new viewers as well as remembered by past decades of theater patrons.  The first time I viewed E.T. in the early 80s when it premiered, the film aroused a standing ovation. Certainly, Saturdays’ ovation expressed the greatest appreciation and love for the LPO as well as the classic movie. For those who live in Louisiana communities, I urge you to become acquainted with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra making opportunity to enjoy their many venues of performance afforded Louisiana citizens. For their Calendar of Events for this season, visit LPOmusic.com. I guarantee you will be rewarded with excellent talent and entertainment regardless of your music preferences.

MAKING LEMONADE

 With limited time left as a citizen of this world, I think about the quality of my grandchildren’s lives as I observe behavior around me. I remember many of my generation predicting the future would be effected by a few of the spoofs spewed into the rearing of our children, especially by Dr. Benjamin Spock. He told us how to make formula, bathe the baby, and provide first aide, but his parenting concepts led us astray. The “handwriting appeared on the wall,” and we ignored the warnings having been “weighed in the balances and found wanting” as did the King in Daniel 5.

The first of these spoofs is don’t “touch” your child as you discipline him. Reason with him per Dr. Spock. This resulted in undisciplined children acting-out in all phases of growing up.  A pat on the behind gets his attention so you CAN reason with him. Childhood discipline teaches the individual to respect authority, and he will soon learn there is always someone above him in rank. He will also learn that he can’t have everything he wants, and all actions have consequences. (Dr. Spock failed to point this out in his “child-rearing bible.” Spare the rod and spoil the child. (paraphrasing Proverbs 13:24). 

Of course, I don’t advocate beating or abusing a child, but misunderstanding the discipline of children is the number one blunder of the present day home. A wise parent determines what action best motivates his child to respond to discipline and consistently demands obedience and proper behavior. Children are like sponges; they soak up knowledge and the example of parents, and generally want to please a parent or guardian. Give them a warm, consistent, loving home, and they will respond with respect and maturity that will reward loving parents. (Proverbs 22:6). We are reaping the consequences of the post-war, supposedly peace-loving, passive generation of permissiveness that historically follows unfettered prosperity. 

The second spoof that poisoned parenting is don’t “isolate or recognize” individuals as they excel in talents whether it be in academics, sports, or the work place. Everyone deserves a reward. Example: when a child is an “A” student, don’t tell him where he stands beside his peers. Tell him his work is “Satisfactory.” When children play sports, give them all a trophy for participation; eliminate MVPs or any image of such distinction. Why should we be surprised when our college campuses are filled with young adults who expect everything handed to them and equal, equal, equal on every hand?  No competition – that’s unfair; everyone should be rewarded for participating, and these pampered youths rebuke any concept of restraint; they must be heard and sheltered, and they expect and demand a hand out instead of a hand up. 

We are NOT all alike with equal talents. And competition is mentally healthy. Why do we presume that our children will excel with well-rounded personalities when we fail to challenge or motivate them? How can we expect them to become mature adults when their mentors condone acts of rebellion and make excuse for their immaturity by providing them with “safe space and tiny furry things to quiet their fears?” What they need is to be ordered back into their classes to learn what it means to be a citizen of the greatest nation on the planet – liberty and freedom are costly and many have paid the ultimate price with their lives. Give them freedom and opportunity to weigh conflicting facts, but teach them to discern with wisdom. Perhaps another learning process would be to eliminate some of the luxuries they have come to expect, and I might add, demand. The greatest lesson on earth is to recognize the fact that we are duty-bound to change the things we CAN change, accept the things we CANNOT change, and have the WISDOM to know the difference.*

The third spoof hawked by our educators and political leaders is that “God” should be eliminated from everything. Because I’m a Christian conservative, I’m convinced much of the deterioration in our society is the absence of God in our homes, schools, and government.  When humanism controls our leaders, educational institutions, and homes, the urge to “do your own undisciplined thing” becomes embedded in our youth resulting in the rejection of moral values, misdirected patriotism, rejection of religion, suppression of individual thought, and the lack of motivation to excel. The champions of such ideals speak loudly about their concern for human rights, inequity, racism, and a list of such issues. However, they often just talk and DO nothing about these issues, while engaging in promoting numerous subversive activities designed to enslave the masses, resulting in widespread socialism and dictatorial government over the humanistic world. Are we (the USA) destined to join them?

Perhaps the latest election (2016) reflects the rejection of this humanistic ideology rather than the selection of a person to lead our country. Instead of complaining of the loud noise of the academic world parroting that religion and conservative ideology bears responsibility for all the ills of the earth’s population, we would be better served by reviewing our history (without editing out the chapters our present day educators don’t find supportive of their progressive agenda) and honestly accepting the fact that those who do not learn from history are destined to repeat, and we should proclaim these facts at every opportunity.

These are my views as I surf the media, read the web, and reason for myself. Everything appears tilted, filtered, corrupt, and many live in denial of the facts and are blind to the truth that well-funded, silent proponents of globalism seek power to deny the democratic freedoms of our Republic. Each citizen must stay informed, research carefully recognizing truth is often elusive, and make your VOICE HEARD. Of course, I failed the political correctness exam. I use the pronoun “he, his, or him” instead of person or whatever applies in today’s literature. I resent being referred to as an ignorant, gun-toting, Bible-thumper who is clueless and uneducated. I make no apology for my 1950s education and philosophy.  I still read and believe my Bible, and I can relate to those who believe they need a gun. The streets are no longer safe. 

Our country faces difficult issues on every hand. However, history reveals we have always faced difficult problems and managed to seek and find solutions, and we always survive (no matter what pitfalls the presidential administrations dig up for us), but what do I know? I’m just an old lady trying to get into Heaven who believes we should appeal to God for strength to endure and optimistically march onward with the philosophy that  “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”**

* Paraphrasing the Prayer of Serenity, author, Reinhold Niebuhr

**Quote attributed to Elbert Hubbard in 1915 and later credited to Dale Carnegie in his 1948 writings.