GRANDMA & "ONLY IN AMERICA!"

Whenever my grandmother would learn of something unusual, she would say, "Only in America!" Sometimes she said this in awe. Sometimes she said it in exasperation at something she felt was wrong headed.

I thought of my grandmother today on the day of Christmas Eve, on the fifth day of Hanukkah and on the day just before Kwanzaa begins. I was listening to NPR when I heard a report about "Cup Stacking." The sport was begun in the 90s. It has serious contenders who carry their cups in specially designed shoulder cages. There are local and national rules for regional and world competitions.

Right in the middle of holiday celebrations with lights, tinsel, ancient music and customs and the news of the world, all gave way to cup stacking. As I listened to the report, I thought of my grandmother and how in awe she would have been to learn about the serious business of cup stacking. I think she would have smiled and said, "Only in America!" as did I this morning!

PROBLEM SOLVING OR SCAPEGOATING?

As the political rhetoric heats up in Congress, many of its member are tossing about scapegoats in the name of problem solving.

They are telling us that immigrants, teachers, scientists, environmentalists, unionists, regulators and, of course, the "other guy's" political and religious beliefs are the cause of our problems.

Seems to me we need to decide who we really are and who we really want to be. We need to ask ourselves and those who represent us some hard questions about where we are headed. I don't think that relying on irrational hostility toward others can lead us to a sustainable future. It will only lead us to lose our once sure footing going over a cliff we are unable to climb.

Scapegoats offer enticing, easy solutions for our problems. It will take the hard work of all of us to assure plans for the future are consistent with our views of justice and equity least our Representatives take our country in a detour from where we ought to go.

SURPRISING SOLO PERFORMANCE

I am constantly encountering interesting people either on the elevator or in the laundry room in the apartment house where I live. Next to the laundry room is the Business Center where I write or read until my clothes are ready.

Today, as I was about to enter the Business Center, I stopped in my tracks. Through the glass door I saw a young woman, playing the violin. It was obvious she was practicing and I did not want to intrude on her space, but she gestured to come in. She explained that I might not enjoy her playing but I sat down and began to write anyway. She played beautifully and at times I found myself tearing up because of a delicate melody.

I learned that she had arrived from China six months ago to play with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. Her name is Xiaoxiao Qiang. I shall look for her at the next concert I attend and remember that she honored me with a solo performance on a day that would have otherwise been uneventful and mundane.

MINATURES & A WINDMILL IN BEVO

Sometime ago, I was perusing a list of Museums in our area. Each was dedicated to different interests, activities and collections. Almost unnoticed was a small listing for the Miniature Museum of St. Louis. Intrigued, I drove out with a friend to see it in a neighborhood called Bevo.

The museum has a wide assortment of miniature houses, churches, and buildings filled with people and animals. A Victorian house features, among its many rooms a woman taking a bath. In a shoot-em-up saloon, cowboys tote their guns and neglect a horse that has wandered through the swinging doors. One home, decorated for Christmas had a train about the size of a thimble actually running on its tracks. Displays enclosed in glass are donated by collectors and creators.

In contrast, across the street from the Museum was a giant Windmill that towered over houses, shopping centers and boarded up warehouses. I was told that the Windmill Restaurant was built as a midway point for guests on their way from St. Louis to the Anheinser Bush family farm in carriages drawn by Clydesdale horses, a way of life represented now by the Windmill and the Museum across the street.

MY GRANDCHILDREN & THE FUTURE

My grandchildren, Hoben (16) and Emma (17) took me on a tour of their school on Grandparents Day recently. Both are heads taller than me. Both are articulate, good looking, avid readers and accomplished in many ways.

Emma, who from an early age rode horses many times her size, now has her own horse which she rescued and cares for at a barn in Illinois. Her imagination lends itself well to writing and music and I was told excels at both. She plays guitar and piano and has a lovely voice like her mother and gets her musical ability from her father.

Hoben, now taller than his six foot father, has always had a curiosity about the way things are put together. His understanding of math and geography far exceeds my own. He plays drums, idolizes the Beatles and has his father's sense of humor. When he pitches for his baseball team, I am reminded of a choreographed dance.

Both children's illustrations and special projects were displayed in classrooms and hallways. When their science teachers spoke of their abilities I was hard pressed not to show my pride in them. When I left I was sure that both Hoben and Emma,like many of their peers are capable of shaping their country's future in a good way.

HOW A SEVEN YEAR OLD SEES THINGS

As I went for coffee this morning I passed a table filled with five children and an adult. I stopped to ask if they were all from the same family. Their mother told me they were sisters and brothers. She pointed out a set of twins, another young boy and girl and her oldest, a bored adolescent who seemed in need of attention.

I mentioned to the younger children I thought it was wonderful to have a big brother. One of the girls, about seven years old, piped up, "No its not!" I leaned down and whispered in her ear, wait until you are a little bigger. Without skipping a beat she answered, "Why? Because I will want his inheritance?"

It took my breath away and I wondered, how many more seven year old children see our world this way?

"ANGER" ON THANKSGIVING?

When I write, I describe events and opinions of importance to me and hopefully the reader. Readers have suggested that I was less than clear with my Thanksgiving 2011 message when I wrote, "Her anger came in biblical proportions."

The sentence in question was an acknowledgement of the horrific natural disasters that have occurred here in Missouri, in our country and around the world in the past year.

We share this planet with uncountable other species, animal and otherwise. Thanksgiving provides the opportunity to recognize and respect nature's ability to bring about major disasters unanticipated by people, even as we can be grateful for our own specific good fortune.

SEVEN BILLION AND COUNTING?

Sometime during the month of November, the seventh billion baby was born. Mind you, that was not an exact figure but an approximation. I don't know about you, but I can't get my head around a number like that, or around budgets of trillions, or the hundreds, thousands,millions or more of one individual being worth more than another.

The resources of this planet are finite. How do we manage ourselves as well as others when there are seven billion of us? When we were children we played the game "Monopoly." We were able to count and collect each denomination and hold the bills from one to 500 dollars in our hands. We rented properties. We bought and sold utilities. It made sense!

We stopped playing "Monopoly" a long time ago. I wonder what kind of "game" will these new children play as they join us on this planet and will it make sense?

SIGN OF THE TIME: SWITCHING GEARS

For a number of years, I have sent a small, plain Thanksgiving card to friends, family and colleagues at the start of the holidays.

This year I will send my greeting electronically by e-mail on the first of November.

I hope my verse will be as well received in this format as it was in the other.

IMPOSSIBLE! NEVER HAPPEN!

Just a few weeks ago, the St. Louis Cardinals did not seem to have a chance to take the Pennant, much less get to the World Series. And now, look at them!

I don't usually get excited over baseball, except when my grandson pitches. He's terrific! Yet, I found myself cheering the Red Birds and listening as their games were broadcast, even though I am loyal to the Phillie's. I joined in the announcer's "gt yp, gt yp, gt yp" when the ball was hit.

It was impossible! They were so far back. Beat the Phillie's? It would never happen! But beat them they did and became the National League Champs. Can they win the World Series? Well, I wouldn't bet against them.

NEW YORK'S TAPPEN ZEE BRIDGE

Recently I learned that New York's Tappen Zee Bridge, built in the 1950s, will be torn down. It is one of many bridges that need to be repaired or replaced because of neglect or because the structure can no longer safely serve ever increasing traffic.

Yet, understanding all this and agreeing that neglected structures are unsafe for man, woman or beast, I will be sad to see the Tappen Zee torn down.

Sometimes,when I visit New York, I go to Tarry Town where I stop at a dockside bar across the Hudson River facing the Tappen Zee. When I see her, she reminds me of a grand dame's elegant tiara. I know that if I had to use the bridge, as thousands do daily, the Tappen Zee's elegance's or lack of it would not be on my mind as I crawled along in traffic.

But sitting in Tarry Town facing the Bridge I wonder will she be replaced by an impossibly high, cold cement overpass? Will that overpass be as satisfying to the senses as watching an elegant tiara sparkle in the sun or moonlight. I think not, but everyone will get home quicker!

WHICH WAY AMERICA?

The Internet has made us aware of citizens and regimes around the world. As a result, I often wonder how did the ordinary person in England or France live with the fact that their country was no longer the greatest Empire it once was? How were people able to understand and make the necessary adjustments for a different kind of governance so that their national culture and values were not destroyed?

Here in America, right now, in the 21st Century, we are being pulled from one ideology to another as we try to find our footing in a world that is rapidly changing.

It seems to me that we need to put political parties aside. Check our emotional rhetoric at the door. Sit in the quiet of our home and ask ourselves am I prepared to make adjustments that will help this country meet the future in a fair and open way? Are we prepared as individuals to look at the greatness of this country without resorting to demagoguery or hyperbole and ask hard questions of ourselves as we face reality? Or do we accept the demagoguery and hyperbole?

MOVE OVER MEXICO OR WHEREVER

If Missouri is not known as the Salsa state, it should be.

On a perfectly beautiful day I attended the 20th Anniversary of the "Best of Missouri Market." It was held in large white tents on the grounds of Missouri's Botanical Garden. It attracted hundreds of people on the last day and probably thousands for the three days it was opened. There was plenty of food and wine sampling, but everywhere we turned we found a different variety of Salsa samples
sweet, mild and hot!

In terms of examples of Missouri crafts, I was disappointed, though three craftsmen did catch my attention. Joseph Farmer created metal sculptures out of ordinary things like hedge sheers, old cameras and musical instruments. Nena Galloway Potts designed imaginative and delicate jewelry. Vic Barr made colorful and sleek fountain pens out of wood.

Except for these few craft artists, Salsa samples seemed to steal the show.

CHILDREN, US AND THE FUTURE

I have always wondered why we behave as we do toward children in public places. Sometimes we are indifferent, almost as if the child is invisible. Sometimes we are easily annoyed if a child cries or is misbehaving. Sometimes we are almost deliberately rude to a woman traveling with a child on a bus, train or plane, rather than offering to assist in some way. When we fail to take a moment to recognize the child in our midst, do we send a message that this is a hostile environment?

It seems to me that when we fail to notice children or wonder about their treatment anywhere, we shut off our own opportunity to shape and influence, even ever so slightly, the future.

Beyond this, try smiling at a child and you will see real energy at work when your smile is returned.

MY GRANDFATHER,ME & TECHNOLOGY

The story goes that when my grandfather first heard a radio, he thought a man was hidden inside. He could not understand that the voice he heard was body less.

Internet Technology is almost incomprehensible to me. I cannot figure out how what I put on paper, now known as a window, gets from here to you my reader. With my trusted typewriter I was able to put words on paper, mail that paper and you would receive my message. True, I never did figure out how the postal system worked, but I knew it involved earth bound people and equipment. With my PC it's hard for me to comprehend how my message gets to the reader.

Recently, I had a problem with my computer. I was asked to describe the problem. I replied, "They were giving me directions which did not work." The person listening said, "Who is they?" Before I answered, I smiled and thought of the story about my grandfather and the radio.

ABOUT THE BIRDS: NOT THE CARDINALS

I do cheer for the Cardinals even though the Phillies are close to my heart. But this post is not about baseball. It is about real birds. How strange they seem to act at times and how, in some ways they mimic human behavior.

In the Spring, it was reported that Pink Flamingos dropped from the sky over Siberia. Later in New Jersey, red winged black birds were turning up claws to the sky dead. And here in St. Louis on a chilly day in September, I watched chicadees, wild sparrows, ugly starlings and a boisterous, large crow all fighting over a bagel in the street. As I watched, I thought how much like us are these creatures. Fighting with each other. None helping the other. Flying nerviously to and fro. Until the crow decided enough was enough and swooped down, picked up what was left of the bagel, leaving the others excited and bewildered.

There was no sharing of the bagel and I bet the kiddies back home never got a crumb.

SHE AIN'T NO LADY!

As if to show me who is boss,this morning August unleashed the dogs, sent them headed for the thermometer and we are about to have days of O my gosh heat!

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT AUGUST!

As the rest of the country suffered through floods, hurricanes, tornadoes and draught, here in St. Louis, the weather had been delightful. Since the middle of the month, life slowed to a lazy pace. Breezes have been gentle and the temperature stayed out of the 100 degree zone.

The annoying sound of Springtime Cicadas had been replaced by the steady hum of crickets. Clear blue skies with billowing clouds became a canvass for our imaginations and probably a sailor's delight.

In the park, evenings provided an array of color at each sunset. Bicyclists and joggers passed people strolling and no one seemed in a hurry. There is something luxurious, yet unpredictable about August as she prepares for the coming of September. If only she would not unleash her dog days and frightening storms to remind us she is about to leave and go quietly and, dare I say, lady like?

WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT?

I attended three celebrations in August, each held in a different venue at a time of national unease and natural disasters. Yet, there was a sense of joy in each.

A 70th birthday was marked in a country club in Florida where participants were taught the Belly Dance. Here in St. Louis, sixty years of marriage was celebrated in a modest home with old and new friends overflowing the space. The third was held in a synagogue packed to capacity to honor a couple still vibrant after 65 years of married life. The "groom" with his "bride" at his side, was asked to provide words of wisdom about married life. He smiled and replied in front of children, grandchildren and hundreds of friends, "Well, it wasn't easy!"

His answer reminded me that the roads we take are not always easy to navigate. But family and friends, along with a sense of humor, help us get over rough parts so that we are able to look at life truthfully, while appreciating moments of joy. Maybe that is what it is all about!

IMPRESSIONS: ON A TRIP TO NEW YORK

Picked up at LaGuardia, traveling out to the "Island,"wondering how anyone can find their way around; viewing the New York skyline across the bay from a new city-like community; spending a day in the lower East Side, pushing aside people to get a theater ticket to wait in line for a corn beef, cole slaw, Russian dressing sandwich on rye; marveling at the make over of Orchard Street where once immigrants sold their wares on push carts now an upscale neighborhood of shops and apartments; listening to an articulate Brandeis graduate as she spoke of the realities of immigrant life as we toured a turn-of-the-20th century small, cramped, dark three room apartment in which a family lived and worked; to extremes in 2011, a small, intimate Italian restaurant in which we sat at a small table for eight regaling each other with good conversation, wine and hilarious memories.

On streets, where buses' heavy exhaust pushed aside the intense heat and their front ends kneeled leaving off passengers in wheelchairs and senior citizens pushing shopping carts with groceries; marveling at dog walkers with six to 12 dogs, some pedigreed, some not, all coming at me on the sidewalk; sirens wailing; horns honking; people walking, running, some half naked, others dressed and holding umbrellas protectively against the sun; restaurants with big alphabet letters on their windows to designate they had passed the Health Department's test for cleanliness, while others shut tight because they had not.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art with lines one usually sees at stadium-sized events waiting hours to see the Alexander McQueen extraordinary exhibit of clothes, accessories, using feathers, sea shells, metals, chiffon, materials earthy and voluptuous, costumes of all kinds mimicking cultures from the world over along with our own, some galleries entitled "Savage Beauty," all of it in an erotically pulsating setting at times three dimensional and digital as people strained to get close enough to the displays, creative and theater-like.

Leaving the hustle and bustle behind, traveling about seventy miles out to a serene area in the country to a small cottage by a lake; refreshed by cooling breezes and a full, beautiful moon; Caramoor a 90 acre Mediterranean estate built in 1930s as a private home, now a center for music and arts, listening to a concert of Beethoven and Max Bruch's Violin Concerto No.1, played thrillingly by Sarah Chang and the Orchestra of St. Luke's.

Coming back over the TriBorough Bridge the heat had obliterated the city's skyline with a veil of haze, smoke and fumes; on my way home to St. Louis, sharing with much of the rest of the country unbearable heat and savoring a good time.

ALL THIS AND ERRORS TOO?

Since 2009, I have shared my observations, experiences and opinions with my readers. In turn, readers have shared their comments with me. When I have been wrong or made a mistake, much to my embarrassment, readers have let me know.

In one of my June posts, I described the less than friendly reaction by a neighbor to a stray Canadian goose that had alighted close to his property. In my description I called the offspring of the goose "ducklings" instead of goslings.

I was surprised by the number of readers who advised me of my error. So herewith, is my correction and apology, amidst urgent national and international issues. Though I have had no buy out offers from Murdoch or Huffington, I am delighted my blog is even read.

HOME GROWN TERROR HERE TOO?

Reading today's New York Times (7-24) I looked for an explanation for the tragedy which unfolded in Norway. I found some of my answer in the article which carried a quote by Kristian Anderson, a researcher at the London School of Economics.

Anderson is quoted as saying, "In some ways the homegrown nature of the terror made it harder for Norwegians to accept. With 9-11 in America people could ask. 'Who are they?' and could pour their rage out on someone else," he said. "But we can't disavow this person he's one of us. That's a sobering thought."

Our home grown tragedies were Kent State University, a high school in Columbine, a day care center in Oklahoma, a shopping center in Arizona, on a quiet street as a child walked home from school in New York City, and in communities across the country where shoot outs are commonplace every day.

When we permit unreasoned rhetoric to overtake our thinking, our language and our actions, there are not guns enough, nor walls high enough to secure us from terrible invasions of loss of life, property and our way of life. Perhaps that is the sobering fact we need to face.

THE SUMMER OF PARADOX?

As the summer gets underway, I am struck by the number of paradoxical events that are unfolding. On one hand, the Space Shuttle Atlantis, engines spewing fire and smoke roars off toward the heavens. While here on Earth, individually and collectively we work to conserve energy.

The Atlantis carries with it, in addition to brave man and women,a large payload of food to store in the Space Station for the future. On Earth, we grapple with the need to feed our growing populations as we attempt to inventory and conserve plant life, even as untold number of plants and crops were destroyed by floods of biblical proportions.

The roar of Atlantis as she lifts off fills us with awe and a sense of adventure. Yet we look for a way to escape the roar of a tornado, hoping it will pass without destroying life and property.

For all its sophisticated equipment, Atlantis is tethered to us to work out her problems here on Earth while she floats majestically in the Universe.

ONE FAMILY: TWO DIFFERENT PATHS?

I am fascinated with the story of the capture of James (Whitey) Bulger, the FBI's most wanted criminal. I had never heard of Bulger before, nor had I ever read any books about him. I had heard of the ascent of his brother William from local Boston pol to President of the Massachusetts State Senate to president of the University of Massachusetts.

I am intrigued that two people with the same familial ties could go in such drastically different directions. One to a life of killing and jeopardizing the lives of people, the other to a life advocating for minorities, children and the under privileged.

We often look to parental guidance or the lack of it to explain childhood and adult behaviors,or we look to environmental or societal circumstances to explain criminal behavior. Yet, the story of James Bulger and his brother William needs much more than a clinical formula to understand why each brother took the path he did.

"HIGH NOON" AT STARBUCKS?

Recently, Emily Rasinski's photo in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch illustrated what "Open Carry" gun laws looked like. The photo showed a tall, handsome, smiling man leaning against a wall at the entrance of Starbucks in Olivette, a community outside St.L. City limits. Thrust in his belt and visible for all to see was a gun.

Along with the photo was the article, "Openly carrying guns is in vogue," by Shane Anthony. According to the article, the man claimed to be carrying the gun openly to demonstrate his right to do so, and "to deter others with ill intent from committing a crime."

Reading the article and looking at the picture, I was reminded of Gary Cooper in the film "High Noon." Cooper plays a renowned gunslinger who defends a whole town with people who have been bullied to immobility by a band of outlaws. At the time the film was made, Cooper was appealing and seemed heroic.

Today, people are coming to understand that dialing 911 is a better way to protect people against crime, rather than gun toting, self appointed vigilantes. Did I hear Cooper utter "YUP!"?

NICHOLAS KRISTOF & THE MILITARY

The columnist Nicholas Kristoff recently suggested that we need not look to other systems of government when our own military structure could be used as a model to get us through tough economic times. He recounted the many benefits the military provides our society in terms of education, integration, child care, health care, with a high mission of ethical purpose. Many of the points he made were valid, except his omission of military history was glaring.

Integration of minorities by the military occurred not within the military system but by Congressional oversight and legislation. The ethical mission of the military is beautifully written and distributed to all within the military as well as its contractors. Yet, the individual and collective greed for profit was exposed, changed and is still changing because of public and press exposure not because of the structural workings of the military.

Yes, the military is a model for many things, but governing a free society is not one of them.

HOUSE HUNTING? NOT HERE PLEASE!

Canadian Geese are at once fascinating and a menace. They mate for life. They are beautiful in flight and gliding across water. Yet,they land in an ungainly almost comical manner using their webbed feet for brakes.

When they land,the couple builds their nest together. After laying their eggs, both alternate between feeding each other and sitting on the nest. When anything gets too close one parent begins a hissing sound, assumes an attack mode with his/her long neck, spreads its wings wide and runs directly at the intruder. People have been held hostage in their home and car by their menacing manner.

I was startled recently to spot a goose standing silently, neck tall under a shady street in the city. I wondered where it came from? I asked a neighbor if he had seen geese in the area. He said, "Not in years." When he turned around, all he could say was "Oh my God!" And with good reason. when the eggs hatch, the small, fuzzy, cute ducklings will form a line and follow their parents as they learn to swim, grow to full size and poop all over the place.

GEORGETOWN: I FEEL YOUR PAIN

NPR recently reported that Georgetown University had misspelled the word University on the cover of the Graduation Program. The news stopped me cold in the middle of my workout. Spelling has always been my nemesis contributing to more than an anxious moment or two in my career.

A letter of mine was sent to the President of Temple University. It contained a misspelled word. The President was a kind man who responded without mentioning my blunder. Not so his diligent assistant who enclosed a note, written in red ink with the words, "THIS IS A DISGRACE." I was mortified.

Writing errors of any kind are unsettling, but I would give Georgetown a break. The Class of 2011 should hold on to those Programs as they will probably be worth a lot of conversation at the 25 Anniversary Reunion.

MAY OVERSTAYED HER WELCOME!

May arrived with bags filled with gifts. She brought clear skies, glimpses of moon and stars, snatches of good weather, and the full blooming of flora and fauna. Tucked away in a gift box was the excitement and joy of ceremonies for graduation, marriage and birth.

She stayed on through storms, floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, and devastation of biblical proportions. We argued over the differences of man made and natural calamities. Conversation became tiresome and went on for too long. Her voice was loud and grating, at times scary. Like an unwanted guest, she just stayed too long.

When, finally she decided to leave, she reminded us not to forget friends and family who had contributed much to quiet us down in turbulent times and to console us in our grief. Remember them we did with reverence and parade. When she returns we hope she leaves her nasty behavior behind. But for now, dear month of May, here's your hat! There's the door! Just go!

FIVE GENERATIONS OF COMRADERY

The Piccadilly at Manhattan is a small, out of the way, bright restaurant in the Ellendale neighborhood of St. Louis. According to its owners, Nick and Maggie Collida the restaurant was established in 1901 as a corner tavern to serve "working stiffs" and neighbors with drinks and food. Renovated a few years ago, the bar is still there but it is known now for its good food.

It has been owned and run by five generations of the same family. Nick's son is the chef. Other family members help out from time to time. Nick and Maggie live above the restaurant. They can be found sitting on the outside patio where they often greet customers.

When I was there the food and home baked desserts were delicious. The menu offered dishes for sophisticated palates as well as wholesome food at moderate prices. On a gloomy afternoon, it was a delight to encounter a place with pleasant service, good food, warm fellowship and quite a bit of history attached to it.

THE UGLY BRUTALITY OF NATURE

The destruction caused in Joplin, Missouri is hard to fathom. I tried to imagine the tornado's huge footprint, nearly a mile wide and six miles long. A tornado that size would have traveled a distance comparable to the distance between where I live in St. Louis' Central West End neighborhood to University City and would have been as wide as the distance between Forest Park and my apartment house.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to look down my street and see this monster coming at me. I tried to picture what it would be like to walk amidst so much destruction and death and to know that all I had was gone. Whether a tornado, earth quake, flood or some other natural disaster, it is impossible to really understand what it is like to live through the wrath of nature.

No matter what we attribute the unusual weather to around the globe and in our country, we are fragile before nature. Yet,as we confront the ugly, unstoppable brutality of Mother Nature, our human response is to help and heal each other for strength and inspiration in face of that which is uncontrollable.

ANONYMITY OF THE INTERNET

I was discussing my discomfort with the anonymity of the Internet when friends reminded me that readers of this blog don't know much about my background. So, I decided to tell my readers whence I came.

My maternal and paternal grandparents were hard-working immigrants who settled in Pennsylvania and New Jersey and valued education and the opportunities this Country offered above all else. Between both sets they had 13 children. Some children were brought here at a young age, while others were born here. Descendants now live in New York, New Jersey, Long Island, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Vermont, Georgia, Washington, DC, Virginia, Florida, Colorado, California, Washington State, Missouri, and abroad in Denmark and France.

My immediate and extended family participate in an eclectic assortment of nonprofit, cultural, governmental and political organizations. Familial loyalty and memory is held by most members except for those who chose to go their own way.

My parents taught me to question the fairness of all things. I am influenced by identifiable sources while acknowledging that they and I are capable of error or changing opinion as new information becomes available.

The idea for a name for my blog was given to me by a valued friend with whom I have corresponded over the years.

SANDRA DAY O'CONNOR

We are all concerned about the direction the country is taking. We may be coming from different points of view because of our experiences and the opportunities we have had. Yet we all wonder what if anything can be done to ameliorate the present climate of false accusation and insults.

Former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor is taking an important step toward doing something about the nastiness we sometimes exhibit toward each other. She is helping us reacquaint ourselves as well as teach future generations about the United States Constitution and the laws which enable it. She has established a nonprofit web site (icivics.org).

I confess to being an admirer of O'Connor while she served the Court because of her ability to reach decisions based on the experience of ordinary people, her respect for legal scholarship, and her knowledge of the history of the Constitution.

Her continued effort toward this end is to be commended and could point all ages toward a more constructive climate for talking and listening to each other.

HOORAY! HE'S CONQUERING THE WORLD!

St. Louis residential neighborhoods have small islands of greenery between streets that are only a block long with dead ends. Cars enter at one end and loop around to exit at the same spot. Home owners, or renters, park their cars on these streets yet there is little traffic. Whether people are gardening, walking dogs or children playing, there is always something going on.

On Mothers Day, I was returning from my favorite coffee house when I spotted a child half a block away. He was walking and running and weaving from one side to the other like a sailor just off the ship. As the child came closer, I realized he could be not much more than a year old. He was not slowing down for a minute even though he was about to lose his diaper. It was apparent that he was new to this walking and running business. As he came toward me, I began to yell, "Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!"

He ran up to me. Buried his head in my knees and hugged my legs as if to say thank you for noticing my accomplishment. Then he ran back to his father. All else seemed irrelevant, he had indeed conquered the world!

SYSTEMS THAT THREATEN SECURITY

I was relieved when the tornadoes that marched through Missouri and Illinois took few lives last week. My relief was short lived as I watched in horror as an unbelievable number of tornadoes swallowed everything in their paths. This time hundreds of people were killed in the South.

This morning came the news of rivers rising beyond flood levels in Illinois and Missouri, not to mention the flooding last week in the Midwest.

I would have liked to close out April with a lovely story, or relate an interesting encounter or even write about a humorous situation. Instead the weather has me, along with many others fixed on it.

We have always challenged or treated the weather with benevolent tolerance even though it is a power which we need to better understand and treat as seriously as other systems that threaten our security.

PASSOVER, EASTER AND TORNADOES

Nature demonstrated her might as we ushered in Springtime. She stirred up the seas and oceans to create record breaking storms and dismissed our best efforts to control her.

Families gathered together around the world to retell centuries-old religious stories. Here in St. Louis, the rains brought hail of grotesque sizes that bounced off pavements and porches, much to the delight of children.

Our first night Passover Seder was attended by 27 family, friends and seven University students some of whom will graduate in May. We recited the night-long ancient story as we lent our voices in song and discussed each other's views.

Tornado sirens half-way through the Second night Seder forced participants to continue in cellars even though the tornado was a no show in St. Louis. For me, the cellar served as a reminder of other times when people gathered there for safety not from nature but because of a difference in beliefs.

Three days later as the calendar marched toward Easter, thunder storms, furious winds, and incredibly beautiful lighting against the night sky announced the approach of tornadoes.

Terminals in the St. Louis Airport were destroyed. Homes in a cul-de-sac in one neighborhood were flattened as if in one sweeping gesture. Other homes, barns, businesses, schools, houses of worship, and trees in the tornado's path were demolished in a matter of minutes through the night. In areas not hit directly, the roar of the tornado was heard from miles away as it advanced toward Illinois.

When all was still, at day break people emerged from sheltered areas to view piles of lumber, emptiness where once stood a structure, cars flung about and great trucks turned upside down amid vast destruction.

On Easter Sunday, people darted under umbrellas as they entered the Great Cathedral of St. Louis for Easter Sunday Services. Some people were grateful their areas were not hit. Still others wondered how to regain a sense of stability now that all was gone. And in spite of everything, children ran to splash in puddles.

Which ever holiday we celebrated, and for those who celebrated none, we are all grateful that no life was lost, for the willingness of friends and neighbors to help those who did lose much, and for the human ability to acknowledge and respect the mighty force of nature.

EARTH DAY TWENTY-ELEVEN

As we recognize Earth Day, I am preoccupied with the natural and man-made events that have happened to this Planet and its inhabitants in little more than a year's time. Human beings are only one among an untold number of species here on Earth.

We consider ourselves more advanced beyond the hierarchy of all others. We attribute our human advancement to our ability to learn, plan and innovate. Yet, when we study nature we find that we and all other species are of the same or similar order.

Each has the ability to reproduce. Some care for their young, some do not. Some live in isolation while others live in groups. Some are mobile and migrate while others stay put. Some are endowed with the ability to ward off predators while others have little or no defenses. Just as birds show off their plumage, so too do humans demonstrate their need to be recognized through their accumulation of things and power.

However, unlike other species, we can question each other as we proceed through life. Whether its drilling or mining or using technology for less than worthy endeavors, perhaps we need to ask what price do others and the environment pay for our own accumulation of things and power. Earth Day provides the opportunity to ask these questions as we seek answers.

YO PHILADELPHIA! WHAT HAPPENED?

Recently, a friend told me he was going to attend a conference in Philadelphia. I began to wax nostalgic describing the National Constitution Center, the wonderful view of Boat House Row from the Water Works, and a small Greek restaurant hidden away in an alley off Locust Street.

He told me his Alma Mater is Villanova University and he loved to explore Center City "Philly." Yet, he said he "dreaded" using Philadelphia International Airport. He told me getting from one gate to another was a "nightmare" and getting information from PIA people was less than helpful, sometimes "even rude."

As I recall, about ten years ago, PIA was funded for an Employee Training Program to motivate people to better represent the City of "Brotherly Love" to visitors. What happened that a traveler using it had such a poor impression?

WHAT PRICE HUMAN ENDEAVOR?

Much of the world witnessed the destruction that nature let loose on Japan last week. Television captured the Tsunami as it moved at unimagined speed. I thought of the people and the terror they must have experienced.

It reminded me of the fear I had as a child, and still have
when the Atlantic Ocean pulls away from its accustomed place at the surf and the narrow beach widens. The water suddenly, rapidly rushes out to meet swells forming in the distance and then brings huge waves crashing back to shore.

As this tragedy unfurls the Japanese people remind us of the human capacity to go on in the face of great loss while reminding us of the cost we pay in our effort to control Nature.

THE FUTURE AT MY COFFEE SHOP?

Weather permitting, I enjoy my morning coffee and newspaper in a small coffee shop. Usually, "regulars" of all ages and interests are there. Some with books, or electronic gear or, like me with a newspaper. But over the weekend, a whole new cast of people show up.

This morning in particular there was a table filled with students, still wearing their beads from the Mardi Gras working together over an assignment. Across the way, a group of bicycle riders were beginning to peel off jackets as the sun came out. In one out-of-the-way corner of the room, sat an old woman with her winter coat on. What appeared to be all her possessions were placed in a shopping bag next to her as she slept.

A young couple had come in carrying a baby, bundled in a warm blanket and still stirring from sleep. As the child came awake he was intrigued with all he saw in his new environment. His mother stood patiently waiting for him to come fully awake. When he was ready, he kicked off his blanket, smiled and reached for his mother. I was struck by the mother's patience and the baby's inquisitiveness with all he saw.

It may seem strange, but for me this milieu of people and activities at a nondescript coffee shop suggested a tableau that gave me heart about our future.

THE LION CLOSES OUT FEBRUARY

Tornadoes targeted Missouri and Illinois last night. They came through St. Louis just before midnight and headed East. Winds, much less tornadoes are not my favorite weather things, but in the blackness of the night they are particularly worrisome. Some buildings and homes were affected and there were power outages. Was I scarred? Well, when the winds began to buckle the windows i n my 15th floor apartment I hid out in my small kitchen and hoped it would blow over. It did and I did not have to add surviving a tornado to my life experiences.

FORE! FISH SPAWNING!

On a recent trip to Florida, I had the chance to watch the spawning habits of tilapia, an ordinary-looking fish. On the edge of a manmade pond, fed by a natural spring, the tilapia were busy building their round, muddy-looking nests that appeared out of place in the clear, clean water.

Their nests were close to each other and they socialized with their neighbors. At one point, two fish seemed to be puckering their lips and kissed each other, whether before or after laying their eggs was a mystery to me.

What struck me about all this was the determination of this fish, normally found in Africa, to continue their ancient reproduction ritual without shame in the middle of a golf course.

"THEY ALL LAUGHED WHEN I SAID I WOULD MOVE TO SAINT LOUIS"

I moved to St. Louise in 2007 to be near my son and grandchildren. At the time, friends and family questioned my decision. There was a sense the Midwest would hold little interest for me. Since I came, I have been impressed by the revitalization of this City and its many advantages,some of them reported in the news recently.

Empty nesters, young energetic people, businesses, national corporations along with high-tech firms are resettling the once forgotten and abandoned downtown areas. Gardens are sprouting in neighborhoods and parks between office buildings. The St. Louis Orchestra is among the nation's finest and one of a few operating in the black. Jazz still reigns supreme in small bars and in larger venues. The St. Louis Art Museum has an impressive collection and is building a new addition. It and the St. Louis Zoo and Science Museum still do not charge an admission fee. The City's large German, Italian, and Bosnian populations are found in ethnic neighborhoods where new and old restaurants are having a colorful resurgence.

Least I sound like a Commercial for the Chamber of Commerce, our community issues are no less nor more than communities elsewhere. We have less than worthy laws being supported by State and County elected officials. We still support candidates who advocate carrying concealed weapons in public places. We carry guns proudly, defiantly, openly even after the most heinous of crimes. Environmentally, existing standards and regulations for water, air pollution and land use are less than well enforced. Lead Poisoning is still a problem as is educational opportunity for all ages. We share budgetary issues with the rest of the country and are as illogical and emotional about our sports, politics, and health care as are others.

Saint Louis is home to national and international celebrities who are loved and loathed. We get our news through technology, gossip and one of the country's oldest newspapers. Our scandals and corruption give evidence to our similarity with other cities. Yet, we are blessed with institutions of higher learning and men and women working to improve and renew our future.

The history of this City, once larger than Chicago, Illinois, reminds me that people once stopped here on their way to seeking fortunes in the West. Others came and stayed to develop this place on the Mississippi. Now, many are coming once again for new opportunity and for the promise of this City's reawakening.

Like the song says, "Who is laughing now?"

VALET PARKING NO MATTER WHAT!

This morning our temperature reached a warm 31 degrees. The snow came off and on, the streets were filled with ankle deep slush and the sun was trying desperately to come out. On my way to my favorite coffee shop, I noticed a tall, slender young man wearing a red parka standing in front of an up scale restaurant in the area. He was standing by a "Valet Parking" sign, sunk in a river of slush.

There was something incongruous about the picture, so I stopped to talk to him. He was indeed waiting to park cars for patrons of the restaurant who might be arriving for brunch.

He was still there when I returned. As I tried to find a passable path back to my car and finally climbed into it, I wondered does he earn enough in tips and gratitude to make up for his lonely, wet vigil?

WEATHER PREDICTOR FOR FAITHFUL?

In the middle of one of the largest winter storms to hit this country, a fat, fuzzy brown creature burrows out of his hole, pops his head out of the ground and predicts, "an early Spring." His name is Punxsutawney Phil so named after the Pennsylvania town in which he lives. He has been "predicting" the weather for about 125 years and has gained quite a following of "true" believers.

No matter what may be happening in his state, the country or the world people come from all over to witness the ritual conducted every February 2. Officiating are officials, elected and otherwise, dressed in top hats and ready to record his "prediction."

There are other ground hogs that have tried to match Phil's ability, there may even be one here in Missouri. I remain loyal to Phil's prediction and feel sure Spring will soon be here. But please, no phone calls when Mother Nature provides us with one last blast of winter in April.

MY TRIP TO EGYPT THROUGH CAIRO

As events unfold in Egypt, I am reminded of a trip I took to Cairo en route to Israel in the 90s. I was met at the airport outside of Cairo by a family friend who greeted me with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. On the way to his car, I was startled by the press of people begging and calling out to us. My escort shouted at them, took my arm firmly and quickened our pace to his car, a Mercedes Benz Limousine.

On the way to my hotel, on a small island in the Nile River across from Cairo's downtown section, I was struck by the contrast between us and other traffic. Sharing the street with us were camels, donkeys, pushcarts, and scooters along with vendors carrying their wares. Neither pedestrians nor traffic stopped for each other. The shops we passed were bustling with activity. Merchandise included animals, dead and alive. Even the exhaust fumes could not hide the smells, and among all the noises was an occasional sound of music.

In addition to the spectacular and ancient sites I would later visit in Egypt, it was the memory of my entrance into Cairo that remains with me still. Even then, I wondered how long could the disparity between wealth and poverty be sustained?

WHAT IS A POLAR BEAR WORTH?

Recently, NPR reported that we are changing the formula for making environmental policy. In the past, we asked, what is the cost of what we want to do and what are, or are not the benefits? Through scientific study we determined when a species was about to become extinct and why. Now we ask, what is the "total economic value" of other species and their environment?

Used as an example was the "total economic value" of the polar bear. I am intrigued that as we prepare to experiment with the natural and fragile tundra of Alaska, we develop a new formula to help us accept yet another questionable environmental intrusion and perhaps the loss of magnificent animals.

Will a formula of "total economic value" give us yet another way to justify our disregard for our role in the extinction of other living things.?

JANUARY: WHAT A MONTH!

In January, clergy from all faiths, elected officials and representatives from different community organizations celebrated Martin Luther King Day with prayerful observance. I attended the event sponsored by the Jewish Community Relations Council where choirs of school children from interdenominational schools sang. I was touched not only by the program but by drawings which surrounded us in the auditorium. Created by 4Th and 5Th grade students, each artist depicted the meaning of Dr. King's "I have a Dream" speech.

We remembered the 50Th Anniversary of John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Speech and his inspirational words to his fellow citizens. "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."

In between reflecting on these speeches, came another. President Obama reminded us of the preciousness of all life when he told us, "Gabby opened her eyes!"

And finally, Mother Nature informed the world she was still in charge as we dealt with tornadoes, earth quakes, floods, draught, rain and blizzards. Even so, she delighted us with a gorgeous, full moon not often seen in January.

And we still have almost two weeks to go before February arrives.

ARIZONA: ARE WE ENABLERS?

Yes, public civil and political discourse has become a thing of the past. But before we point fingers, did we as individuals have any role in the unspeakable tragedy in Arizona? I believe we did when we accepted half-truths, simple answers and sensationalism to solve complicated issues.

Do we solve the problems of mentally ill people by accepting less funding for programs? Do we accept legislation that allows concealed weapons to enter public spaces? Do we urge students and teachers to carry their own weapons to ward off acts of violence? Do we provide decent wages and training to the police, other civil servants and workers? Do we accept the spoiling of our environment by powerful interests? And do we accept less than equitable solutions for issues in our educational, health and justice systems?

Until we as individuals, support representatives who advocate funding, legislation and regulation that speak to quality of life issues, we will enable the destruction of all we hold dear.

P&CR, NEW CERTIFICATION?

I had just finished making a purchase when I noticed a large hand-drawn sign at the check-out counter. It said, "6 DAYS TO P&CR."

Being ever vigilant, I asked the cashier what the sign stood for?. I was sure it was a new regulation that would assure customers, this merchant will be Certified for having good services and worthy merchandise in six days. I was told the sign means, "Six days to the Pitchers and Catchers Report."

In St. Louis, where Baseball news outweighs all other happenings, that sign means the Cardinals will announce their starting lineup of pitchers and catchers in just six days and Spring Training was nearly here.

Wish I knew where to buy a copy of P&CR. Maybe it would hurry Spring along.