How short is the time!

The long pause is only partly inertia.  I thought every day that I'd be announcing the debut of "Mrs. Job" but little glitches keep coming up -- some annoying, like the proof reader's efforts to get "Ph.D." changed to "PhD". Confusion has ensued on the covers (hard and soft). And I've [re]learned something about myself. I tried so hard to figure out what I should do about the cover errors until -- ah-ha -- I realized it wasn't in my court, but in theirs, because they hadn't applied the corrections I'd agreed to. So, here I am, waiting.

In the meantime, I realized the other night, as I watched the young lady directing the Orchestra of the Enlightenment, how really short are our productive years. Every once in a while I see a "Want Ad" for some form of psychological work or teaching and think, "Oh, I'd like to do that." And then I wake up to the facts. I don't even want full-time work any more. But it reminds me of my father during his last year in the nursing home, actually wasting away with cancer, suggesting to my mother that they should buy a little house for themselves, small enough so the care of the house wouldn't be too heavy. And that reminds me of my mother in the nursing home, looking at herself in the mirror and seeing the beautiful young blonde my father married. I like that thought.  I hope I keep seeing someone attractive in the mirror. I have changed my goal, though. Now I just want to look dignified and welcoming. What did I say about our productive years?

And let me add a bit about patience. Finally rejoicing in the new administration after weeks - months - of stress in the campaign, I realize how important it is to wait -- and work. Do you remember when we thought the atomic bomb would take us all out? Or the Korean war? Or the Cuban missile crisis? Or being kept out of our offices at school because of a bomb threat? Or the horror of brave people being killed marching for peace and justice? Or Vietnam? Or the sadness and anxiety over the invasion of Iraq? Or Darfur? Or -- ! If you remember those things, then you can add to the list. And we fortunate ones are still here. Amazing!

I'll be back soon, I hope, with a "Mrs. Job" announcement. In the meantime, those are my thoughts. Feel free to add them to my "Aging Diary." And please, feel free to comment.

No "Aging Diary"

Some time ago I started a document I called "Aging Diary" because I thought that after I die at the age of 104 it might be interesting for geriatric students to observe the process of cognitive/verbal change. The problem is that I never seem to find time to write in it. I'm too busy with working on all the issues I care about. I guess that means that this blog becomes the equivalent of my "aging diary." -- somewhat more public than I had planned, but...

Aside from the fact that "Mrs. Job" is uppermost in my mind, I find myself thinking about some colleagues from my years at Southern Connecticut State University who write me that they have decided to leave their social action projects to their children and just relax and enjoy retirement. In the same "bubble" I think about a colleague who has moved on from her life's journey, no longer here to stay in e-mail contact. Then there are those friends and colleagues from so many sources who strike me with awe in all that they do. Sometimes I think I want just to throw it all in, relax, read, and take it easy. Then I realize I really need to feel at the end of each day that I've really "done something." I suppose this is the problem of retirement. When do we do it? My hope is that I will know when the time has come, just as I knew when the time had come to give up teaching at the Adler Graduate School. 

I need to see clients. I need to advise on thesis projects. I need to work for restorative justice. I need to work on "Riding in the Back Seat," (my next writing project). I need to continue working with the wonderful folks at JustFaith+. I need to support (mostly financially) the causes of health and homes for all, end of war (dare I believe?), the termination of torture, the opportunity for everyone to live to their fullest (aha - now education comes up), equal rights, respect for all races, religions, and ethnic groups, family connections and strength, oh, and so much more. Thank goodness for the folks who need only my regular (and not very large) financial support. Because the fact is (note this in the aging diary) that I don't have the energy I once had. And I do look forward to letting my mind go numb at 9:00 Central Time with some CSI program or other, with it's fake blood and promise of a clear solution at the end.

My thoughts are a-buzz now with plans for marketing "Mrs. Job." But that's for tomorrow.

Mrs. Job's coming out appearance

Today I approved the cover for Mrs. Job. Finding no photo of a woman of her period who even began to convey her personality as I know it, we decided to go with an acacia tree. Elaine Ward of iUniverse did a fantastic job, patiently meeting the requests of my "good-artistically-eyed" daughter, Lisa. I tried to post a photo of it on Facebook, but I guess is must be in the wrong format. I'd have it on my web site, but that program doesn't like my Mac, so I have to wait for someone with a PC to help me get that accomplished. 

Anyway, she's ready. I hope she'll be really productive after her debut.

Travel Woes and Pleasures

I have taken it as a personal affront that Northwest merged with Delta. I think I can understand the need to charge for luggage, but the rest of it was not so great.  Back in the old days when I purchased a flight through Northwest all I had to do was click on the link they sent to my e-mail 24 hours before flight time and, with no problem, I could check my seat assignment and check in. Not so this December 16. It took me an hour finally to get the Delta confirmation number which was different from the one I'd received from Northwest. Part of the problem was that they insisted my first name is not "Mona." It turns out my first name was "Monagms." Now just try to pronounce that. The lovely man at the curbside check-in tried, with a smile. Of course, it was an amalgam of "Mona," plus the middle initial "G" plus my "title" - Ms. Sometimes when I'm required, against my will, to give a title, I'll use Dr., but I certainly don't want anyone in a medical emergency on the plane to think I can help. Maybe someone can explain to me why I can't just be Mona G. Affinito. Oh well.

I won't go into more detail -- boring. Suffice it to say that there was no "uniformed representative at the end of the jetway" as promised, and making connections was -- shall we say -- not terribly successful. Those reps I did find were hassled, overworked, and -- understandably -- cranky. Twice my luggage trailed me by a day, and once I stayed overnight in Atlanta at Days Inn. (Well, that was a computer problem at Atlanta airport.) But here's the good part: I met Ed (A real southern gentleman who hadn't lost his manners, though he had lost his accent) and Ankie, trying to get back home to Amsterdam. Days Inn provided their van to drive us to "Joe's" where we enjoyed a bottle of wine, purchased, chosen, and served by Ed, as well as a first course of Calamari. The burgers were dutch treat, and the company delightful. I didn't get more detailed information about Ed and Ankie, but I did give them my card, asking that they look for Mrs. Job. To Ed and Ankie, if you do happen to see this, please let me know. You were such a pleasure in an island of annoyance.

I want also to say that the passengers were, though tired and frustrated, a really patient lot. And my return trip from Portland, Maine to Minneapolis was a delight, thanks to the very pleasant Northwest agent who lengthened the time spent at the Detroit airport between legs of the flight. And I do love the tunnel there.

Oh, by the way. Delta still served peanuts and pretzels.

Williamsburg was a great Christmas experience with family, and Portland was a wonderful place to welcome in the New Year with friends from (gulp) as far back as 1947.

All in all, TGIJ. January and February, cold and snowy as they are, provide a great opportunity to settle in and catch up -- or even get projects going.