( a cut-and-paste LINK for Rolling Thunder Hits the Streets of Washington photo gallery)
http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/rolling-thunder-fills-washingtons-streets/2011/05/29/AGBxMDEH_gallery.html?hpid=z6#photo=1
If there's one thing you notice about Washington D.C., it's the noise, the rush on the streets. Everyone has somewhere to go and are in a whirlwind to get there. The streets even have digital timers. I had about 20 seconds to cross busy intersections with my huge, post-surgery foot in tow. I'm willing to wager, if Mississippi had street timers, our behinds and mid-girths would be a lot less in circumference.
And the bikes - - dotting the streets dashing in and out of mega-paced traffic. From businessmen in suits to businesswomen in skirts, these folks pedal. And there's essentially no bike shame. There were high-end bikes, rusty bikes, vintage bikes, bikes strapped to light poles missing a front wheel, cruiser bikes. It doesn't matter. These folks want to get from point A to point B using the fastest means possible other than cars that get trapped at intersections. Needless to say, the ratio of fat people there, was lower than the Mississippi landscape.
Amid the chaos and clamor of Washington streets, the tourists vaulting for museums and towering government buildings, there are places of solitude. It's there.
The highlight of my recent D.C. trip was where solitude lives among the chaos. It is not the noisy Smithsonian or other museums that line the Mall, but the monuments - - the testaments of history of where we've been as a nation that grab the soul.
The Vietnam Wall, The World War waterfall, the Korean War Monument were all places of absolute respect. These are places where it becomes difficult to keep a dry eye. These are places of sacrifice for those remembered and those left behind. These are places, especially the Vietnam Wall, where hands feel names, where red carnations are dropped and where people gaze behind sunglasses that are places of stillness in big city madness.
But the Lincoln Memorial has my soul. Walking into this ginormous open structure with Lincoln overlooking all, the Gettysburg Address etched on a wall and the Potomac River just outside, well, I have never felt so small in my entire life. I realize how small a piece of the human puzzle I am. Very small, indeed.
The American legacy intersects there, and it melts the heart into humble pieces. This Memorial Day, I carry these places inside, remembering the quiet among the clamor and those that made those special places possible.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Doing Slow Well
It's been almost a month since my foot surgery, having 7 mm two bones removed and a few screws now with me forever. And I do feel screwed.
One of my teaching cohorts once remarked how my toes are as big as Dum-Dum suckers, as my foot will never be a centerfold layout. Now more than ever, the toes are super-sized Dum-dums, and I am still in hobble mode with this armored-car of a boot, black, hot, and fleece lined.
No one really knows how wide a parking lot can be, or how long a dollar store aisle is, or the true circumference on the Oxford Square until you sport one of these. Yesterday, a big shiny black truck revved his big overcompensating-for-something engine at me, waiting for me and the boot to cut the Square in half, waking through the diameter to get to the only available parking space located on the other side during a Saturday afternoon.
I see cyclists with shirts flapping in the breeze, dog owners walking Rover, who has this big satisfied grin, and a few just in mid-stroll chatting, and my heart bleeds. It bleeds for all the things I took for granted. The simple things, now difficult.
My heart bleeds for those who have a lifetime of watching life roll by faster than they can move.
More than painful, immobility is down-right frustrating. When you can feel the bike seat underneath, hear the wind whizz your ear, and feel the sun on your neck, frustration alone could plant this boot in a few unmentionable places. And more tears have been shed over frustration than pain.
If God is trying to teach me patience, I'd like the accelerated course, please. And I'd like it now.
Now.
I just don't do slow well.
One of my teaching cohorts once remarked how my toes are as big as Dum-Dum suckers, as my foot will never be a centerfold layout. Now more than ever, the toes are super-sized Dum-dums, and I am still in hobble mode with this armored-car of a boot, black, hot, and fleece lined.
No one really knows how wide a parking lot can be, or how long a dollar store aisle is, or the true circumference on the Oxford Square until you sport one of these. Yesterday, a big shiny black truck revved his big overcompensating-for-something engine at me, waiting for me and the boot to cut the Square in half, waking through the diameter to get to the only available parking space located on the other side during a Saturday afternoon.
I see cyclists with shirts flapping in the breeze, dog owners walking Rover, who has this big satisfied grin, and a few just in mid-stroll chatting, and my heart bleeds. It bleeds for all the things I took for granted. The simple things, now difficult.
My heart bleeds for those who have a lifetime of watching life roll by faster than they can move.
More than painful, immobility is down-right frustrating. When you can feel the bike seat underneath, hear the wind whizz your ear, and feel the sun on your neck, frustration alone could plant this boot in a few unmentionable places. And more tears have been shed over frustration than pain.
If God is trying to teach me patience, I'd like the accelerated course, please. And I'd like it now.
Now.
I just don't do slow well.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
A Few Things I've Learned from a Chair on Wheels or Crutches
The whole thought of having two metatarsals sawed off and re-screwed down was not appealing. But neither was hobbling in pain on one foot day in and out. According to my new podiatrist, two bones have grown too long, dropped below the fatty pad of my foot and consequently rubbed a callous on the bottom of my foot. My livelihood stands on my feet and so do most things I enjoy. No choice here.
With that said, I was mentally prepared for the possibility of pain. I was not and am not mentally prepared for viewing the world from wheels on a chair or from crutches. It has been a dismal and frustrating perspective.
I have a new found empathy and respect for those wheelchair/crutch bound. It doesn't matter how much you mentally want to do something, if your body won't allow, it just won't allow. Wishes don't count.
Here's a short list of a few other things I've learned:
You have to eat like a bird or be as large as a barge. Physical restraint leads to weight gain. I've done my own physical therapy (yoga and massage), and it does little to elevate my heart rate to a fat burning level.
Organization is key. Most things I reach for are at the other end of the house or two inches beyond my grasp. This experience gives new impetus to get my house in order. Extra steps means extra time and extra energy. In fact, I think there should be whole new branch of organization created; "What Would I Do if I Were in a Wheelchair" philosophy?
I have new goggles for viewing those I meet who are overweight and with physical limitations. It is a situation that takes no prisoners. It's viscous. And someone with the know-how needs to reach out to these folks with a few physical conditioning/training options, if any exist.
I will never underestimate the power of friendship and empathy. My friends have helped me through this: subbing in my classes, grading papers while I am under the influence of pain meds, preparing food, phoning for foot checks, bringing food, sending pizza cash for my big boys, or just being there with an sympathetic ear.
Certainly not least on my short list, is the shame I feel for not being there for my own friends and family when they were in similar situations. My philosophy: someone else is better at this "caring thing" than I am. Let them do it. Shame on me. Every drop of care in the bucket counts.
With that being said, I stand grateful for the long arm of friendship and grateful for the perspective this experience has given. And even after I am once again standing on two feet, I stand thankful for so much.
With that said, I was mentally prepared for the possibility of pain. I was not and am not mentally prepared for viewing the world from wheels on a chair or from crutches. It has been a dismal and frustrating perspective.
I have a new found empathy and respect for those wheelchair/crutch bound. It doesn't matter how much you mentally want to do something, if your body won't allow, it just won't allow. Wishes don't count.
Here's a short list of a few other things I've learned:
You have to eat like a bird or be as large as a barge. Physical restraint leads to weight gain. I've done my own physical therapy (yoga and massage), and it does little to elevate my heart rate to a fat burning level.
Organization is key. Most things I reach for are at the other end of the house or two inches beyond my grasp. This experience gives new impetus to get my house in order. Extra steps means extra time and extra energy. In fact, I think there should be whole new branch of organization created; "What Would I Do if I Were in a Wheelchair" philosophy?
I have new goggles for viewing those I meet who are overweight and with physical limitations. It is a situation that takes no prisoners. It's viscous. And someone with the know-how needs to reach out to these folks with a few physical conditioning/training options, if any exist.
I will never underestimate the power of friendship and empathy. My friends have helped me through this: subbing in my classes, grading papers while I am under the influence of pain meds, preparing food, phoning for foot checks, bringing food, sending pizza cash for my big boys, or just being there with an sympathetic ear.
Certainly not least on my short list, is the shame I feel for not being there for my own friends and family when they were in similar situations. My philosophy: someone else is better at this "caring thing" than I am. Let them do it. Shame on me. Every drop of care in the bucket counts.
With that being said, I stand grateful for the long arm of friendship and grateful for the perspective this experience has given. And even after I am once again standing on two feet, I stand thankful for so much.
Friday, February 18, 2011
School bullying: Study maps teens' social status in relation to aggression - latimes.com
School bullying: Study maps teens' social status in relation to aggression - latimes.com
Bullying can have long term mental effects. Our school system has zero tolerance for bullying, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. It happens. Whether it is passive bullying, making consistent remarks under the breath, gossiping about someone on the playground, or making a kid give you part of their lunch, it happens. More study and consideration should be given on the many forms bullying takes in and after school.
The above L.A. Times Health piece is a good one on the psychological tentacles of aggressive behavior. We need to redefine the definition for bullying to keep more incidents from falling between policy cracks.
Bullying can have long term mental effects. Our school system has zero tolerance for bullying, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. It happens. Whether it is passive bullying, making consistent remarks under the breath, gossiping about someone on the playground, or making a kid give you part of their lunch, it happens. More study and consideration should be given on the many forms bullying takes in and after school.
The above L.A. Times Health piece is a good one on the psychological tentacles of aggressive behavior. We need to redefine the definition for bullying to keep more incidents from falling between policy cracks.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Mississippi School Cafeteria Food
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/08/health/research/08childhood.html
The above New York Times health article is an important battle I fight in our local school cafeteria. I wrote about this last year in my online Clarion Ledger Op-Ed column. Parents should also get involved, as it is an issue and affects so many, from food choices to the number of extra food sales offered.
Those "extra" food items offered in addition to the purchase of a cafe tray are often laden with fat, sodium and sugar grams. Food effects performance. No way around that.
Parents are not always aware of the problem as the extras are deducted from a child's account without parent notification. At our school, kids can get as many extra Snickers ice cream bars as their pocketbooks allow. So often, I see the kids eat the extra chips and ice cream bars without touching the tray food.
Food service administrators are quick to say the extra food sales fund worker salaries and equipment. They are not funded from the state but are self supporting. And the kids love it and the freedom to buy without abandon. That doesn't work for those who eat nothing but the snacks without the tray food.
It happens everyday in a school cafeteria near you. And by the way, or weigh, we still have that nasty little obesity problem in Mississippi.
The above New York Times health article is an important battle I fight in our local school cafeteria. I wrote about this last year in my online Clarion Ledger Op-Ed column. Parents should also get involved, as it is an issue and affects so many, from food choices to the number of extra food sales offered.
Those "extra" food items offered in addition to the purchase of a cafe tray are often laden with fat, sodium and sugar grams. Food effects performance. No way around that.
Parents are not always aware of the problem as the extras are deducted from a child's account without parent notification. At our school, kids can get as many extra Snickers ice cream bars as their pocketbooks allow. So often, I see the kids eat the extra chips and ice cream bars without touching the tray food.
Food service administrators are quick to say the extra food sales fund worker salaries and equipment. They are not funded from the state but are self supporting. And the kids love it and the freedom to buy without abandon. That doesn't work for those who eat nothing but the snacks without the tray food.
It happens everyday in a school cafeteria near you. And by the way, or weigh, we still have that nasty little obesity problem in Mississippi.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Medical News: Tainted Alcohol Pads Recalled - in Product Alert, Devices and Vaccines from MedPage Today
Medical News: Tainted Alcohol Pads Recalled - in Product Alert, Devices and Vaccines from MedPage Today
Heads-up. Coming to a retail pharmacy near you, a Walgreens, a CVS pharmacy or a hospital, tainted alcohol swabs. Another recall - - but alcohol swabs tainted with bacteria? Isn't that a medical oxymoron? How'd that happen?
According to this press release, the swabs, sold in boxes of 100 can cause "a non life threatening skin infection." Yum, considering the Triad Group corporation marketed these not only in the the U.S., but in Canada and Europe, too.
More info available by clicking on the link above.
Heads-up. Coming to a retail pharmacy near you, a Walgreens, a CVS pharmacy or a hospital, tainted alcohol swabs. Another recall - - but alcohol swabs tainted with bacteria? Isn't that a medical oxymoron? How'd that happen?
According to this press release, the swabs, sold in boxes of 100 can cause "a non life threatening skin infection." Yum, considering the Triad Group corporation marketed these not only in the the U.S., but in Canada and Europe, too.
More info available by clicking on the link above.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
A New Year & the Grateful Living
I made it through the gauntlet of food surrounding the holidays: Aunt Earl's pecan pie, mother's oil drenched peas, Noah's thick cornbread, and a plethora of dark chocolate, a house favorite here. According to Weight Watchers, I still managed to lose 2.5 pounds since the last attendance in November. That's pretty amazing.
So what will the new year bring? After reading New York Times health columnist Tara Parker-Pope's blog on keeping cells young with exercise, ( http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/01/27/phys-ed-how-exercising-keeps-your-cells-young) there must be regular exercise through the off cycling season or I am going to age at warp speed. Gee, I miss the bike.
I also picked up a book strolling through Barnes and Notable titled, "Living Life As A Thank-You" which has turned out to be a miracle read. Each day is a gift, each day we all should be thankful for the moment and what for we have been given. I don't usually do that.
I am guilty for approaching life with an outstretched paw, a give-me-more-attitude. My outstretched hand will reach toward grateful living, reaching for more life, health and well-being.
Health, life and gratitude. It's a complete circle. That's what I'm praying for in 2011.
So what will the new year bring? After reading New York Times health columnist Tara Parker-Pope's blog on keeping cells young with exercise, ( http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/01/27/phys-ed-how-exercising-keeps-your-cells-young) there must be regular exercise through the off cycling season or I am going to age at warp speed. Gee, I miss the bike.
I also picked up a book strolling through Barnes and Notable titled, "Living Life As A Thank-You" which has turned out to be a miracle read. Each day is a gift, each day we all should be thankful for the moment and what for we have been given. I don't usually do that.
I am guilty for approaching life with an outstretched paw, a give-me-more-attitude. My outstretched hand will reach toward grateful living, reaching for more life, health and well-being.
Health, life and gratitude. It's a complete circle. That's what I'm praying for in 2011.
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