SHIFTING TO A NEW PARADIGM?

 As the New Year was waiting in the wings, I met a friend for lunch.  Our conversation turned to an assessment of this past year's events.

We spoke of the advances made in science and technology in 2012; of the incredible fete of people to use and create the instrument known as Marscuriosity that now skips across Mars like a child in a playground.

We spoke of the inability of people and nations to respect each other; of the fears, man- made and real, that seemed to keep us from resolving conflict without doing further damage to people or communities on this Planet.

We spoke of reverence for so much of what we knew as acceptable communal behavior in the past; of whether or not people of all ages and cultures really understood the great, historical shift in paradigm we are a  part of and entering.

Neither of us ventured any answers. But we did seem to think the New Year gives people and nations the opportunity to meet and discuss issues and take actions that may have seemed improbable in the past. Would that will be so!

MOTHER NATURE CONFUSED NO MORE!

Just before solstice, old man Winter blew his way into St. Louis with strong winds, rapidly dropping temperatures and a delicate dusting of snow. After so much warm weather even the birds were confused by the abrupt change.

Starlings which swarm in trees behind my new apartment were hard put to fly straight home. They found themselves suspended in mid air unable to go anywhere. Electric lines snapped by falling trees caused blackouts. On the street, coats, sweaters, gloves and ear muffs were seen everywhere.

Mother Nature is now right with our calendars and the seasons seem to have righted themselves.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF A DEFLATED IMAGE?

He sat deflated, forlon on a neighbor's lawn,  almost unable to move. Companions near him were on their  knees.

His bright color, gone. He was half the size from when I saw him last.  There on the lawn he looked more like a pile of rubble than the celebrated figure he was.
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How had this happened?  Was it a stray, tearing stone or a mean spirited person that brought him down? Was it an accident?  Could it have been avoided? What do we need to do?  Will he recover?

Somehow, as I passed this heap of plastic, inflated Santa Claus the scene represented  feelings of people morning the deaths of so many, even in the season of bright twinkling lights, morning also our loss of common sense as a nation.

EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY

During the first two weeks of December there may be a glitch in communications between my readers and me. I will be moving to experience another way of living here in St. Louis.

I have lived in my present apartment for almost six years opposite the majestic Cathedral of St. Louis. The location has provided me with a Parisian sometimes Roman view of the City. It also has provided me with a 15-floor, constantly moving panorama of life's sad and joyful moments.

I watched the elaborate installation ceremony for the new Arch Bishop as well as the quiet,dignified candle light demonstration by nuns and lay people opposed to Rome's edicts for nuns. I became a real fashion maven on the latest bridal wear as brides and their courts paraded below my windows on Saturday mornings. On solemn occasions, I heard the bag pipes and mighty Church bells tolling at funerals.

My fellow renters include a wonderful assortment of children, families, university students and dogs, many of them were known to me. Others were only fellow elevator travelers whose greetings were brief. The neighborhood was close by the Park and invigorating to walk through. I was able to recognize and greet home owners and small business people. I usually wound up at a favorite coffee house where the regulars became like family. To me the area represented the multifaceted joys and problems of urban living.

The new apartment I move to is once again a studio on the 6th floor where I will enjoy a cityscape of lights, highways and, on a cloudless night a sky filled with stars. The ages of other residents at my new address could probably be best described as in the new old, old and older age groups. Truth be told I am not sure what those terms mean. I suspect the terminology describes the clinical needs of people but tells us little about who they are. I hope to find out.

Because the City itself is so important to me, I expect to still discover many places not yet visited and continue visiting my favorite haunts. So, I ask for your patience and continued readership as Beverly's Notebook blog gets hooked into a new Internet system.

Oxford's Word of the Year

Oxford Dictionary selected "omnishambles" as the word for the year. According to the publisher, omnishambles is defined as a "situation that has been comprehensively mismanaged, characterized by a string of blunders and miscalculations."  It may be descriptive of the era in which we live, but I wonder. Whatever happened to "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?"

THE MILITARY AND ME

In the early 60s, I found myself headed toward Fort Stewart Georgia.  I had married a Major in the United States Army.  Fort Stewart was described to me as being a small base located outside the "sleepy" town of Hinesville, Georgia.

Little did I realize that I had been placed smack dab in the middle of the Cuban/Russian missile crisis. I found myself on the  military base which would become the one where  thousands of men, women and equipment would go to war if Russia would not back off.  I met people of all ages and experience from across the country and formed a number of friendships across the ranks.

I learned much about military life at Fort Stewart. Some of what I learned was in sharp contrast to the information provided to the public by the Army: discrimination, alcoholism, abuse of women and children, and an attitude held by many that the military were the only true patriots; justice was administered by officers who, along with  a training manual, the military felt were competent enough to defend men and women in civilian courts.

Since that time, I have been reassured that much has changed for the better in the military.   But with the recent revelation about the elite web of inappropriate Internet messaging by our military I wonder just how much has changed.

Any one of us can be intoxicated by superficial words and actions or dress.  The military holds no exemption to this, if anything is more susceptible to encouraging an attitude of elitism and privilege.
As an example,  whenever I entered or left the base, I was in a car with the Major's insignia on it.
Each time I came or went,  the guard at the gate came to attention, clicked his heels and gave me a snappy salute. Man, did I feel important and privileged!.

SHORT TERM STAY IN EXTENDED CARE

In October I had a fall.  Luckily, I am still in one piece but wiser for spending two weeks in a rehabilitation facility.

My experience gave me the opportunity to meet people who shared their life experience with me, sometimes in a halting way as if searching for a memory that seemed to evade them.

Where I stayed, the staff worked tirelessly to provide the kind of personal care I often take for granted, as well as helping each of us relearn simple skills.

Don't miss understand me.  All was not sunshine and roses.  Two nurses in particulare stand out in my memory.  One I called "nurse wretched" with whom I had major communication problems until I learned to ask may I? While the other, nurse Esther "loved my patients", and was truly an unsung hero to many of us.

There were funy moments like when I was watching the second debate.  I had sat through much of it quietly listening to the candidates.  But when Roomney began his slick sales pitch, I could not contain myself. 

I shouted at the television loudly, "I'm electing a president not a circus pitch-man" which brought everbody on the floor running into my room thinking there was some kind of emergency.

I am glad to be back home.  Writing again, grateful to friends and family for their support and encouragement and looking forward to my next adventure.

WHY DO WE SEEK EDUCATION?

In the heat of the political season I ask myself what does education provide? The question is easy enough to answer politically. It helps provide a step up the ladder. It sure does!

But is that enough of an answer? Because of simplistic rhetoric, I wonder can we meet the challenges ahead when so many of us remain uneducated, unfed people? Can we remain insensitive to the difference of others while being manipulated by dogma, political or religious?

Is the answer to all this the size of our government or an ism? I think not. Education gives us tools to measure the realities of our past, to appreciate today's opportunities, and help us recognize leaders who can lead us through the challenges of the future.

SPECIAL GIFT FROM NATURE

Recently I was given a small bouquet of purple and white flowers from an event I had attended. When I brought them home, I snipped their stems, freshened their water and placed them near a window filled with sunshine.

They thrived for about two weeks. When it came time to throw them out, I noticed two small flowers, still sturdy and with two unopened buds on their stem. On the chance the buds might still open, I saved them and placed them in the sunny window. Two days later, much to my delight, one bud opened.

As nature begins her new cycle of seasons and I begin my own season of contemplation, I feel as if I have been presented with a very special gift. I extend the hope for the same sense to all readers, friends and family.

WHO BUILT WHAT ON LABOR DAY?

The remarks of Elizabeth Warren, made last year,who is running for the Office of Senator for Massachusetts, seem especially appropriate for Labor Day 2012.

"There is nobody in this country who got rich on his own-nobody !" she said. "You built a factory out there? Good for you. But I want to be clear: You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you all were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for...

"You built a factory, and it turned into something terrific or a great idea? God bless. Keep a big hunk of it. But part of the underlying social contract is, you take a hunk of that and pay forward for the next next kid who comes along."

A NEW MOVEMENT UNDERWAY?

Here, around the country and the world, nature has played topsy-turvy with the weather. Lack of rain has turned the Mid West into a dust bowl killing crops and obliterating streams and rivers. Even the great Mississippi has been reduced to a dusty "road" which has curtailed river traffic and commerce. How do we deal with it?

Some people in St. Louis have come up with the solution to stop human and natural abuse of the environment.

On one of the hottest, three digit days this summer, they organized "The World Naked Bike Ride." People were invited to turn off the air conditioners, and "come as bare as they dared to protest our dependence on oil." Some decorated their bikes. Some wore outrageous hats. All looked as if they were having a good time.

As serious as environmental concerns are, it did seem to me these folks may be onto something. Maybe "The World Naked Bike Ride" could really take hold.

ANATOLIA, ROOTS OF LANGUAGE?

Language and what influences it has always fascinated me. I have always wondered how infants learned to talk and understand words in many different tongues. I know there is scientific, environmental and biological theory about how children's senses are awakened, but where did the language come from?

The New York Times, August 24, reports that a new attempt is being made to prove that much of the origin of Indo-European languages originated from Anatolia, in modern-day Turkey. Yet another Study places the origin of language in the steppes of modern day Ukraine and Russia, North of the Red Sea. Each Study reflects geographical and cultural character of the area.

I was intrigued by both theories though neither really explained how children are able to master more than one, sometimes many languages from around the world while even English sometimes defeats me.

MIDDLE EAST DILEMMA: COMMENTARY

The Middle East Dilemma reminds me of what families go through when a distant cherished member becomes ill. It is often difficult to make a decision about what should be done.

Here in America, families and friends are often unable to discuss reasonably and without rancor the stalled peace initiative between Israelis and Palestinians. Family members become accusatory, questioning legitimate concerns and disparaging others about what to do next.

Unlike my fictional example of what happens when a distant beloved family member becomes ill, the Israeli Palestinian dilemma is real, yet in many ways it is distance and experiences that separate our opinions about how to proceed.

One thing I am sure of, calculated political rhetoric helps neither nations or people when less than constructive behavior is exhibited. It does seem unsavory and destructive to me when politicians use such a situation as fodder for their election.

ST. LOUIS "GUN GUY" IN THE BEACON

Shortly after the killings in Colorado The St. Louis Beacon our Internet newspaper carried the commentary, "Reflections of a gun guy in the wake of a massacre." The writer explained that he had spent his entire life in law enforcement and is the owner of eight hand guns.

He described his knowledge of a broad range of weapons while criticizing the press for less than accurate description of fire arms. He said he did not mean to trivialize "an atrocity" into the minutia of nomenclature and said the press did get the big story right: "lunatic armed with potential weapons shots lots of innocent people."

He sited the 16,000 murders a year in the USA and says he is sympathetic to concerns about self defense. He concludes with the question, "At what point does self defense become self destructive?"

I wondered if gun owners and other citizens would take part in small community gatherings to talk about the "Gun Guy's" question?
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HOT, HOT, AND HOTTER

This morning the sunrise was like a lovely pastel painting. The red ball, with the ability to cause so much distress, lingered, almost shyly as it cleared the horizon and then ducked into low hanging clouds on the horizon. As it did so, shades of blues, greys and pinks streaked across the sky.

The night had been the gentleness it has been in weeks. We welcomed evening breezes and temperatures in the 70s, but were told to expect another week of triple digit days and nights that hover in the 80s. Even native Missourians admit to never having seen temperatures or remembering anything like July 2012.

People remain as in cloisters, coming out only for necessities or to get to cooler places even as some forgo caution to try to keep to whatever morning ritual is theirs as St. Louis breaks all records and 105 seems to be the "norm" for each day. It is hot!

INITIATION FEE TO CLUB EIGHTY

I am now a full fledged member of Club 80 having broken my toe recently.

After much testing, and a couple of pieces of tape across my big toe, I learned about the delicate balance between things inside and outside my body that keep me going. One of the tests that fascinated me allowed me to hear the rhythmic pulsing and the orchestrated sounds of blood as it made its way through my veins.

The Emergency Room of the hospital I visited was neither as glamorous nor exciting as are those portrayed on TV. It is rather an untidy bedlam of humanity of the stricken and the healers. Sometimes services were provided swiftly with great caring. While at other times overworked staff and overburdened facilities provided little time for caring or for conveying information.

The ER brings together people of all ages faiths, social and economic differences and political beliefs. The whole experience was an eye opener for why Congress needs to pass The Affordable Health Care Act, as it was a less than easy introduction to Club 80 for me.

The Law, Common Sense & July 4

As I look forward to July 4th I am reminded that much of this Country's history as a nation grew out of laws and a common understanding of right and wrong. The Supreme Court decision to allow the Constitutionality of the Affordable Health Care Act is such an exmple.

Just as I was, and still am, distressed with the Court's decision to equate corporate with citizen influence in legislation and elections, so too am I encouraged by Jurists who showed common sense in today's decision.

July 4th can inspire and celebrate the ability of "We the People" to use our common sense to define right from wrong under the law, no matter how long it takes. Now we need to assure that those who represent us will help to implement the much needed Affordable Health Care Act.

DOG TRAINING AND MORE?

The couple were having their coffee outside. They had their dog an Alaskan Husky with them. The dog was held on a close leash by its big, strapping owner. It soon became obvious this was a young dog being trained by its owner.

A small black Terrier walked by and wanted to take on the Husky. The Husky wanted to take on the Terrier. The Husky owner tensed up, and commanded the dog to sit. The dog sat. The Terrier walked on. The couple finished their coffee and left.

As they left, I noticed the woman was quite pregnant and walking behind the man who was still training the dog. I wondered how much of a role the man would have with the forth coming child, and thought, the baby will not be so easily "trained."

ALISTAIR COOKE VS CITIZENS UNITED

Alistair Cooke was an articulate British television host and American journalist. He was intrigued and wrote extensively about America and its system for governing. At one point, he was discussing what would happen if a single, unjust law came into being in America. "Well then," Cooke replied, "there is always the Supreme Court to rectify things."

I was reminded of his words when I recently read an account by Brian Schweitzer, Governor of Montana, describing what has happened in his State because of the Supreme Court's infamous Citizen's United Ruling. Reading about the impact of this Law on Montana it is difficult to understand how some members of the Judiciary could so easily give up their power to protect society from the tyranny of organized idealism.

Would that Alistair Cooke's observations and belief in the strength of our judicial system was upheld by the Supreme Court.

SUMMERTIME AND OTHELLO

I do not know how many summer theaters there are throughout the country. I do know that St. Louis is blessed with a gem.

Early in June, I attended a production of Shakespeare's Othello. It was held in the City's free, professional summer theater situated in a Glen beneath the graceful Art Museum Fountains in Forest Park.

The acting was richly complimented by imaginative staging,lighting and excellent audio. In addition to the main stage, jugglers, fire eaters, and musicians roamed the grounds. Small tented stages carried quick time quotes and Shakespearean acts of lure. Everywhere, people on blankets enjoyed simple and gourmet-like picnics.

Othello may seem less dark when staged under star light but it still asks us to examine our attitude about others while recognizing the harm rogues can do to the purest of heart.

MS. PIGGY & VOTER I.D. IN FLORIDA

This past February, I visited a friend in Florida. While there, I went with my host to the Palm Beach County Office to renew his Driver's License. At the County Office, there were almost 200 people in the Waiting Room. Most everyone had been there more then two hours, us included.

My friend and his wife have been living and voting in Florida more than 25 years. They have maintained their Driver's License and their Voter Registration Cards all that time. For 2012, they were required to produce original copies of more documents than I have space to enumerate.

Waiting with him, I thought of Ms. Piggy and how she would handle all this. I think she would go to the middle of the room and yell, "ATTENTION!" The room would quiet and she would say, "We all know what this is all about! ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS INDEED! All of us have enough documents right now! I am going home and write a letter to the most important person I know to put an end to all this nonsense." She would toss her hair, twirl around and leave. As I wished we had done.

TRIP ENDS IN PHILADELPHIA

We came back to Philadelphia on an especially auspicious weekend.

It was graduation day for the University of Pennsylvania and other schools. Hundreds of teams of scullers from all over the country were vying in the Mother's Day Race on the Schuylkill River and The Barnes Institute of Art formally opened on the Parkway.

We stayed near Rittenhouse Square, a small Park surrounded by old brownstones, apartment houses, shops and of course, restaurants with sidewalk cafes. We walked there to find a restaurant but it was virtually impossible to get through the crowds.

We opted instead for Effie's, a small Greek restaurant where I often met with fellow writers. We passed Kimmel Center, home of the Philadelphia Orchestra, where people were watching the concert broadcast on a large outdoor screen.

I was born and raised in and around Philadelphia. The reason for the week long trip was that Ed was curious about the places and people he had heard about and it was an opportunity for me to catch up with so much that is a part of me.

Broad Street is the City's spine off of which run a multitude of ethnic and tony neighborhoods. It runs from the Naval Base in the South to Cheltenham Avenue in the North. Market Street runs East from the Delaware River to the Schuylkill River and West. The streets intersect at City Hall.

Ed and I went North on Broad. We traveled past Temple University. As we did, I wondered if the students I taught there still remember my charge to them, ask hard questions, and use P.A.M.?

The Spanish-Portuguese Synagogue an imposing building where my sister and I first attended Hebrew School is still standing but is now home to a Vietnamese Congregation. Across the street was the "Hinky Tire Company," my father's first business. We had lived in the aparment above. It is uninhabitable.

A long row of Brownstones, boarding and flop houses were on the rest of the block. All have been demolished. On the corner of this same block was an elegant florist, Grakelow 's which catered to the carriage trade. Up the street, only a historic marker shows the site of the Shibe Park/Connie Mack Stadium, home to both the Phils and the "A's" baseball teams.

As we explored the neighborhood I spotted my first public school,the Staton. Children were playing in the schoolyard. We traveled past the house where I was given a doll by a neighbor. The doll is still sitting intact in my curio.

Good friends and family came out to join us for coffee one morning. We sampled Philly's cheese steaks near the Italian Market and drove past the house where my father was born and raised and went to school. We were hosted by a close friend for dinner on the Main Line and stopped in Swarthmore to visit more family.

The day before we left, more family came in from New Jersey, New York and the suburbs for brunch. We all bemoaned the distance that keep our visits infrequent.

Before we headed for PIA a guard at the Philadelphia Art Museum in the Raymond G. Perelman Building told us that children who saw the 1969 Olivette portable typewriter display wanted to know how it worked.

It was a wonderful trip. Ed took me to the Airport, then went on to D.C. I came home happily exhausted after seeing so many people and places unique and important to me. Andrew met me at the Airport.

ON THE WAY TO CAPE MAY

We left Absecon Island for the Somers Point Dinner. Old juke-boxes are still on tables where Ed and his brother had earned "Clean Plate Badges." The bridge leading to the Dinner, once known as the rickety-rackety bridge has been replaced by one high enough for the QB II to sail under, by my estimation.

We traveled along coastal roads passing through one seashore town after another. In Ocean City, I pointed out the home of the late Jean Fuschillo who I worked with along with Ruth Fisher and others to create awareness of the worth of wetlands and the natural environment.

Jean's home faces the Ocean behind the dunes. Ed and I walked out on the beach in something of a tribute to her memory and to Ruth Fisher, too ill to see us on this visit.

We passed the little known Carson's Inlet with its almost pristine hidden beach and the towns of Strathford, Sea Ilse City, Avalon and Wildwood, all similar but each with its own special identity. McMansions in Avalon seemed out of place even with with the City's well-tended bird sanctuary for egrets.

As we traveled, we were entertained by a profusion of birds as they left their nests in the brush. Red winged blackbirds came zipping across the road.

When we came into Cape May, we were pleased to find our accommodations had a backyard with eight purple martin apartment houses. The martins were constantly busy building their nests and chirping loudly to let us know this was their territory.

Cape May Point is the very Southern tip of New Jersey. It's State Park was established because of the efforts of local citizens. The Light House, built in 1859, is still used by The Coast Guard as a navigational beacon.

The hull of a concrete Merchant Ship which sank is visible from the beach. A concrete Bunker built in the event of an enemy invasion during World War II was equipped with living quarters and long range howitzer guns. The Bunker once stood off shore in the Ocean, today it is beached.

While we were there a group of Amish teenagers set up a volley ball net on the beach and played in teams of mixed gender. In addition, they brought thermal food containers and large beach blankets. All of them reminded me of simpler times and summer-time excursions to the Ocean.

Before we left for Philadelphia, we had breakfast in Congressional Hall a restored hotel built in the 1800s. From 1968 to 1995, Congress Hall was operated by the Cape May Bible Conference under the infamous Reverend Carl McIntire. Our server was a Russian exchange student working for the third summer at the hotel. Other guests in the dining room represented different nationalities and ethnic groups. I had the feeling McIntire must be turning over in his grave.

From there we headed for the Atlantic City Expressway and Philadelphia.

ATLANTIC CITY & WETLANDS

My son Edward lives in Washington, D.C. He invited me to join him in Philadelphia where we once lived. My other son Andrew who lives in St. Louis encouraged me to take up the invitation.

I flew into Philadelphia International Airport on Mothers Day. As the plane approached PIA, I looked for the statue of William Penn which had once been the City's tallest building. It is now hidden by taller buildings and the Comcast Tower. It seemed ironic that Penn, the patient, quiet Quaker who planned this City could no longer be seen from the air.

Ed met me and we drove to the Shore. In Atlantic city, the Casino/gambling glitz has faded. Revel, the newest Casino was sleek, modern and cavern-like amidst a neighborhood trying hard to resurrect itself. Even the shabbiness of the City could not lessen my sense of excitement about seeing, and smelling the Atlantic Ocean.

Some of the old hotels like the Shellbourne, the Claridge and the Haddon Hall are still standing though "cassinofied." We ate in new ethnic restaurants and in others that we remembered from years ago. As we walked the Boardwalk, we hunted out the few amusement arcades the children loved.

In Ventnor, my parents year-round home which was also home to my children and me, still remains. The Morris Hardware Company, owned by my parents, where children received free balls and mailed letters to Santa, has been replaced by a 7-11 store. My children's public school has been replaced by single family homes. The Custard Stand we walked to on summer evenings over the Bridge to Ventnor Heights still stands with a big sign on the door, "See You on Memorial Day!"

Magnificent dunes, running along Absecon Island beaches now serve as protection for property, wetlands, and the Inter coastal waterway against coastal storms. In Longport we stopped at the rocks where Bay and Ocean waters meet. As ocean spray wet our faces, we were able to see at the same time, Atlantic City on our left and Ocean City on our right.

At the other end of the Island, the Atlantic City Light House, once standing in the Ocean, now stands several blocks inland serving as testament to the power of tides, storms and the unpredictability of nature, even as existing beaches shrink and the water comes up higher toward the Street.

Before we left Atlantic City, we drove out to the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge. It is there we were able to see the beauty and ecological activity of the vast expanse of wetlands. We were able to see this part of New Jersey's coastline against the horizon as it was before being over run by development.

WHAT DO WE SEE?

I was attracted to a small article about the plant life recorded by Henry David Thoreau in today's New York Times. The article is a collaboration between Richard B. Primack, Boston University, J. Miller-Rushing,science coordinator at Arcadia National Park, and Becca Stadtlander, illustrator.

"Early Bloomers" is a brief account of what has become of the plant life of Thoreau's time. It concludes with a timely quote by the naturalist, philosopher and writer: "The question is not what you look at, but what you see."

As we celebrate Earth Day and remember the Holocaust, would that we take to heart that quote by Henry David Thoreau and ask, what do we see?

SHE ARRIVES LIKE A LADY THIS TIME!

Since the first of the year, Mother Nature has been playing coy with us. At times viciously letting go with tornadoes out of season and monstrous, like the economic and political roller coaster we've been on. The next moment bringing us summer time when we least expected it and having us search for lighter clothes. While, literally as we turn around, we are covering shrubs flowers and fields to protect against frost.

But this morning, all was sunny with temperatures and breezes that are more in keeping with the arrival of Spring. What convinced me that She is really here to stay was the sweet, melodic chirping of birds.

As I walk, I welcome her in a whisper. I know this Lady has another part to her nature which is less than gentle and I don't wish to provoke her.

IS ALL BUDGETING THE SAME?

When a candidate running for public office compares government spending and deficit reduction to managing household budgets, we are in trouble. Here's why.

Ordinary household budgets do not, except through taxes, build and maintain infrastructure like transportation, bridges, sewerage, highways, roads and streets. Government has the wherewithal to expedite such community-wide and national projects. Nor do individual households provide community-wide health care for veterans, children or families. Government has the ability to do so and should do so.

When we hold up household budgeting as an example of why we need to "balance" governmental budgets with cuts to libraries, educators,and health care workers, we jeopardize our quality of life and the country's future. When a candidate tells us to buy our own guns for protection, while cutting budgets for police, firemen and the justice system, the candidate's budget plan contributes to community-wide lawlessness.

How a candidate for elected office views budgeting and deficit spending for the enormous issues and opportunities before us could put us on the road to the future or the road to an unobtainable past. Is personal and government budgeting and deficit spending all the same? I think not!

WHAT A NAME: PINK SLIME!

I had never heard of "pink slime" until I read about it on the Internet. Reading about it I was reminded of a friend who put himself through college working as a waiter for a large fancy caterer. He would regale everyone with stories of the people he met at some of the events he worked.

He also told us if we saw how the food was handled, we would not eat it. That was a time when restaurant kitchens were off-limits to diners. Now there are glass enclosed kitchens and some restaurants encourage patrons to go through them.

Today there are governmental standards for cleanliness around food service and sales. Still, we are confronted by "pink slime." Congressional hearings are planned. Businesses rightly or wrongly have been shuttered and consumers are outraged.

There is a remedy for all this. Manufacturers should be required to list everything contained in the packaged food they produce. We need to buy more local, small farm-raised food and animals or become vegetarians. Having said all that, I wonder who the heck ever came up with the name. But then, I suppose there is no other way to describe the product.

SHE HAS THE VERY LAST WORD!

The crocuses, daffodils and forsythia all showed their heads a few weeks ago. Our city is awash in color. Here the parks are alive with activity and people. We take our conversations and food outside. It's Spring! But wait!

Mother Nature reminds us we are still in March and she has stored plenty of wind, fog and rain. Whenever She makes an exhilarating dip to spread frost we prepare to cover buds, flowers and trees. We wait to put winter cloths away. We hope she gets over surprising us.

We try to reason with her. No more trading winter for summer and summer for fall. No more tossing things about. Let the seasons be as you arranged them so we may admire your beautiful handiwork.

With it all, we know that she will have the last word, uttered in a very loud voice.

SILENT ABOUT WHAT WE KNOW?

Trayvon Martin, 17 years old was shot and killed on February 26 in one of Florida's many gated communities. We know that federal, state and local agencies are investigating the case. We know that like Florida more than 20 states have little or inadequate gun control legislation, including the "Show Me State" of Missouri.

We know gun Laws like "Carry," concealed or otherwise, and "Castle " Laws, as in "my home is my castle" are expanded through national campaigns by the National Rifle Association supported by our elected officials and us. We know that our presidents, elected representatives, children, and innocent people have been shot and killed by guns, legally and illegally purchased.

We know that parents and grandparents in all communities, gated or with special security patrols, speak of their realistic fear for the safety of their children and grandchildren when walking "outside." We know that the meaning of the "right to carry arms" is debated by lawyers, Constitutional Scholars, and voters. We know that laws giving each of us the ability to kill each other outside of our judicial process do not strong communities or a nation make,leading to anarchy.

Yet, as voters we remain silent bemoaning our legislators' inability to fight the power of misguided citizens and the organized gun industry. We know these laws, passed by the men and women who are and who would be elected by us, make our future bleak and cheapen our quality of life, yet we remain silent.

SARBANES-OXLEY LAW TO BE GUTTED?

According to the March 11 New York Times editorial,there is bipartisan support for "gutting" the Sarbanes-Oxley Law. The name of the law may not dance trippingly off your tongue but it is or should be known to directors of present and past profit and nonprofit making organizations.

It came into being after the havoc caused by ENRON, the Texas company that functioned with little or no regulatory oversight in the 90s. Enron grew like a giant octopus with tentacles that surrounded and destroyed much more than investor portfolios. It destroyed lives, communities and institutions around the country.

In the field of energy it trampled environmental concern, disregarded responsibility for human welfare, and was lead by a calloused management some of whose actions were found to be criminal. We are going backwards if we pass a politically expedient, watered-down version of the law whether nonpartisan or not.

ANGELA DAVIS: ACTIVIST STILL!

Angela Davis activist for human rights since the 70s, author of 8 books, Professor Emeritus of History of Consciousness at University of California at Santa Cruz spoke to hundreds of people, some seated, some standing inside and outside of the St. Louis Christ Church Cathedral. She was here at the invitation of the Central Library in observance of Black History month.

She is still the woman I remembered. Tall, striking and still able to bring a cheering crowd to its feet. Students, people of different colors and life styles,
people young and old were stirred by her words.

She spoke of her own imprisonment for a crime she did not commit; of the need to divert funding for prisons to community-wide education and asked that the Occupy Movement work toward the goal of making all levels of education available to all people; urged that capital punishment be outlawed; and cited human and economic figures showing capital benefits and costs for each.

After she spoke, a friend asked if I thought she had changed since the 70s? No, I replied, but I have!

THREE STRIKES: YOU ARE OUT!

I have always questioned "three strikes and you are out" law because it often usurps judicial deliberation. On the other hand, I wish such a law was available to me on a recent Delta Airline flight.

All passengers were seated and the luggage stowed when the Captain announced we would be delayed. We were waiting for passengers who missed their connection from Belize to Atlanta. Fair enough. Ten minutes later, the family of seven, with five children all slipped into two rows directly in front of me when I learned they had been in Fort Lauderdale not Belize.

Our take off was delayed three more times. Each time, the Captain announced over the inaudible humming intercom that we were having "mechanical problems." We did not know what the problems were. Still, we took off and arrived an hour late in St.Louis but not before the ramp to the airport had trouble hooking up to the fuselage. Finally, we got off the plane.

We had made it safe and sound but I wish I had asked the Captain if Delta had ever heard about "three strikes and you are out!"

"A SEA OF RED"?

Recently, one of the candidates running for office described the middle part of the Country as a "Sea of Red."

When I first began to paint, I learned about the use of color. I learned there was no such thing as a "pure" color. Tints of blue, yellow, green, purple, black and even white can be found in any color including red. Since moving to Missouri, I have been exposed to the many colors and broad range of thinking of my fellow citizens. Misleading pundits and political gurus often place people who live in the Midwest, East, West, and South for that matter in a one-color landscape.

Folks, there is no such thing as a "pure" color, unless we believe that the colors of nature are "pure" and without different shades. The next time you hear of a "Sea" of any color, open your eyes and ears, take a walk outside, look at the nearest bush, squint your eyes and you may find what you are looking at is made up of many colors just as are the needs of people.

WEAKENING LINKS TO EACH OTHER?

I had the benefit of growing up close to loving grandparents. All four of them shared the same faith. Yet,the differences between them was striking. One set of grandparents accepted the doctrine and customs of their faith without question. The other set believed questioning led to greater understanding. Sometimes, this difference created a schism between them and their links to other family members.

I thought of my grandparents when I heard the news of the divide between two major organizations dedicated to serving the health of women.

Denying funding to Planned Parenthood for questionable reasons is a set back for the health of women, men and families. It also weakens America's policy for Women's Rights and our links to each other as women.

MUSIC: ANOTHER GATEWAY?

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra announced it will travel to four European cities, Berlin, Switzerland, Paris and London in September, 2012.

Supported by loyal subscribers, an innovative Music Director, accomplished musicians, prudent management and a committed Board, the Orchestra is one of few in the country that is in the black. The expenses of the four-day tour will be paid for by dedicated funds raised through the effort of the Orchestra's former chairman of the Board, Virginia Weldon, and Monsanto Co., and other anonymous donors.

At a recent concert of the Orchestra I heard Tchaikovsky
Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36 and Sibelius En saga, op.36. The music carried with it magnificent images of desire, failings, sadness and joy. Music talks to us about human experience in a universally understood language which is in itself another Gateway to overcoming differences.

THE ARTS: GATEWAY TO THE WORLD?

In September, the Pulitzer Foundation of the Arts presented "Reflections of the Buddha." Figures, paintings and delicate wall hangings from private and public collections were exhibited in the Pulitzer's magnificent museum. The exhibition was an example of faith, culture and ceremony dating from the second to the eighteenth century.

One month later from France, The St. Louis Art Museum brought together a delicate exhibition of the works of Claude Monet featuring a large scale triptych of the artist's "Water Lilies." Other works seemed to carry the bright sunshine of Monet's beloved gardens at Giverny even on cloudy St. Louis days.

Around December, "Icons in Transformation," a solo exhibit of nearly 150 works by Ludmila Pawlowska was shown at Christ Church Cathedral, the oldest Episcopal Church West of the Mississippi. Traditional Russian style Icons, also on display, were the inspirational source for the artist's own mixed technique Icons. Fabrics, metals and wood were used to inspire self-reflection.

As 2012 got underway, children displayed contemplative illustrations of their understanding of Martin Luther's famous "I have a dream" speech at the Jewish Community Center. These events reminded me that the arts provide us with gateways to better understand ourselves, others, and the world.

SURVIVING CHANGES IN BUSINESS

Recently, I came across a relatively small business established 98 years ago by an immigrant who came to this country from the Ukraine. When he arrived here he sold pots and pans from a horse and buggy. From this humble beginning he was able to establish a manufacturing business which is still operating. He retired in 1987 when he lost a leg to diabetes.

Through the years the business has provided for four generations of families and their descendants. There have been prosperous and lean years. Products have been changed to meet new trends and global competition. The CEO, a grandson who works with his father and grandfather, attributes the ability to survive by "Remaining small so we can move quickly. When the market changed we were able to meet our market's changing needs quickly."

As I listened to this family's story to build upon the skills and ethics of their ancestors, I thought of the many businesses and institutions which fail by loosing sight of both the skills and changes needed to survive in rapidly changing times.

SEEKING PLEASURE AND STABILITY?

As 2012 gets underway the weather here in St. Louis, as elsewhere across the country has been as volatile as the political seesaw we are on. Almost makes one wonder, what has gotten into all of us and when will we see some stability, human and weather-wise that gives us pleasure?

I found my answer recently as I sat in my car waiting for the red light to change. A bright yellow something darted in front of me. At first I thought it was a butterfly even though it was January. Then I realized it was a wild sparrow or a golden breasted waxbill that had escaped its cage. At the same time I noticed a young child happily skipping along as she held the hand of the woman next to her.

Both the skipping child and the tiny bird represented for me a pleasant oasis in the midst of the unsettling time in which we live, and the many simple pleasures we can find if we but look for them.