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.