No. 1 Billboard Hit, 1973

February 15, 1973 and the number one Billboard hit for my second birthday is Crocodile Rock by Elton John. It is a catchy little tune and if you have never heard it before, you are in for a treat. It is important to note that I am music illiterate. That being said, it should be no surprise that though I knew the song, I had no idea that Elton John was the genius artist that sang it.

It is a beautiful, sunny day here in Pennsylvania and I am heading to the pool to absorb as much of the rays the sun is so generously pouring down. I love the summer and it is trying so hard to break into the spring. I have to grab it when I can, you know?

Ok, everyone, grab your dancing shoes and crank up the volume!

Whoo-Hoo, But Dangit!

 

Is it possible to be happy and excited and be disappointed at the same time? I think it is. Let me tell you why. Yesterday when I woke up, I saw that I had 270 hits on my blog. I was so excited! I immediately checked my email to see if I had been notified that I had been “Freshly Pressed,” but there was not a message to that effect. So, I went to the freshly pressed page and looked and looked, but again, nothing. During this time, I had another 50 hits on my blog. I was confused and couldn’t figure it out. There had to be a reason. I clicked around my blog a bit and discovered that the hits were coming from StumbleUpon and that the post that was drawing all the attention was my post, The Hilarious Nag Song.

By day’s end, I had accumulated 643 total hits to my blog in one day’s time! My biggest week to date was 707 hits, but all this in one day? How very cool! Yet, at the same time, I felt very disappointed. I, like everyone else, have been, and apparently still am, waiting for the day that one of myposts is chosen to be freshly pressed. I thought yesterday was that day, but unfortunately for my ego, it was not. I suppose the bright side to this is that I still have something to look forward to, yes?

This is icon for social networking website. Th...

This is icon for social networking website. This is part of Open Icon Library’s webpage icon package. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No.1 Billboard Hit, 1972

Today, I am posting the number one Billboard hit from my first birthday, February 15, 1972. The song is Let’s Stay Together by Al Green. I may not have heard this song on my birthday, as I was having too much fun bathing myself in my cake, but I have heard it many times since then. I like this song much better than the number one hit of date of birth. I believe that most of you have heard it, so turn up the volume and sing along!

Whatcha Gonna Do?

I am working on a couple of posts, but have been a bit short on time. However, I do want to contribute a little something to my blogger friends, so here is another funny little clip. Try not to get it stuck in your head and end up singing it all night and all day tomorrow. He-he!

No. 1 Billboard Hit, February 15, 1971

I thought it would be kind of neat to post the number one Billboard song on the day I was born. Then I thought, why stop there? How about posting the number one Billboard song of each birthday since then as well? I began looking up the songs on Google that were number one on February 15, 1971 (my date of birth) and then 1972, 1973, and so on. I then looked these songs up on YouTube and spent a relaxing evening listening to many great songs, some of which I had never heard before.

I will begin today with my date of birth, and the number one Billboard song on that day, February 15, 1971, was One Bad Apple by the Osmonds. This being the first of the songs I had not heard until last night. Who of you does remember this song and do any of you remember it being among your favorites at one time or another?

Turn up the volume and enjoy!

I’m Not the Only One

We have all heard and love Jon Lennon’s song, Imagine. How could we not? I mean, it’s John Lennon and it’s a feel good song with an equally good message. I have written many posts in regards to bullying, gay rights, and even freedom of religion, and I feel this song puts it all into a very clear perspective that really cannot be argued. The question is, though we may not verbally argue John Lennon’s lyrics, do we argue them through our actions?

Do we judge others for their choice of religion or for making a choice not to recognize any religion at all? Do we discriminate against those who are gay or of a different  race, or disabled? Do we, no matter how seldom, berate, belittle, or rebuke others because they have made a mistake, are not as smart as we are, or are just not getting the point we are so desperately trying to convince another person is the right way of thinking?

Think about it. Really think about your own opinions, thoughts, and actions. Do you see your fellow (wo)man as your equal? Is it only your partner or spouse that you see this way? Or maybe the people at work or in the class, the people in your church or in your community, or the varied social groups you belong to? Do you treat others with a different color skin or an accent or a foreign surname as an equal in the human race? How about those with disabilities, whether they be physical, mental, or both? Could you, would you be their friend or cringe and walk by, being tolerant, but escaping quickly?

You may say I’m dreamer. Are you a dreamer too? Can you imagine? And what are you doing in your life to bring this imaginative world to a reality?

The Hilarious Nag Song

I have seen this several times now and it really cracks me up (remember now, I am easily amused) and thought maybe I would not be alone in thinking so. My own mother was not quite like this, but I do recognize several of the “nags” throughout the song. Happy Laughing!

Harvey Milk Day

Gay Pride Flag above Harvey Milk Plaza in the Castro neighborhood, San Francisco
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Harvey (right) and his older brother Robert in 1934
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Harvey Bernard Milk was born on May 22, 1930 in Woodmere, New York, on Long Island, to William Milk and Minerva Karns. He was the younger son of Lithuanian Jewish parents and the grandson of Morris Milk, a department store owner who helped to organize the first synagogue in the area. As a child, Harvey was teased for his protruding ears, big nose, and oversized feet, and tended to grab attention as a class clown. He played football in school, and developed a passion for opera; in his teens, he acknowledged his homosexuality, but kept it a closely guarded secret. Under his name in the high school yearbook, it read, “Glimpy Milk—and they say WOMEN are never at a loss for words”. 

Milk graduated from Bay Shore High School in Bay Shore, New York, in 1947 and attended New York State College for Teachers in Albany (now the State University of New York at Albany) from 1947 to 1951, majoring in mathematics. He wrote for the college newspaper and earned a reputation as a gregarious, friendly student. None of his friends in high school or college suspected that he was gay. As one classmate remembered, “He was never thought of as a possible queer—that’s what you called them then—he was a man’s man”.

Milk was an American politician who became the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California when he won a seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. Politics and gay activism were not his early interests; he was not open about his homosexuality and did not participate in civic matters until around the age of 40, after his experiences in the counterculture of the 1960s.

Milk moved from New York City to settle in San Francisco in 1972 amid a migration of gay men to the Castro District. He took advantage of the growing political and economic power of the neighborhood to promote his interests, and ran unsuccessfully for political office three times. His theatrical campaigns earned him increasing popularity, and Milk won a seat as a city supervisor in 1977, part of the broader social changes the city was experiencing.

Milk served almost 11 months in office and was responsible for passing a stringent gay rights ordinance for the city. On November 27, 1978, Milk and Mayor George Moscone were assassinated by Dan White, another city supervisor who had recently resigned but wanted his job back. Milk’s election was made possible by and was a key component of a shift in San Francisco politics. The assassinations and the ensuing events were the result of continuing ideological conflicts in the city.

Milk in 1978 at Major Moscone’s Desk
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Despite his short career in politics, Milk became an icon in San Francisco and a martyr in the gay community. In 2002, Milk was called “the most famous and most significantly open LGBT official ever elected in the United States”. Anne Kronenberg, his final campaign manager, wrote of him: “What set Harvey apart from you or me was that he was a visionary. He imagined a righteous world inside his head and then he set about to create it for real, for all of us.” Milk was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009.

The City of San Francisco has paid tribute to Milk by naming several locations after him. Where Market and Castro streets intersect in San Francisco flies an enormous Gay Pride flag, situated in Harvey Milk Plaza. The San Francisco Gay Democratic Club changed its name to the Harvey Milk Memorial Gay Democratic Club in 1978 (it is currently named the Harvey Milk Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Democratic Club) and boasts that it is the largest Democratic organization in San Francisco. In New York City, Harvey Milk High School is a school program for at-risk youth that concentrates on the needs of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender students and operates out of the Hetrick Martin Institute.

In 1982, freelance reporter Randy Shilts completed his first book: a biography of Milk, titled The Mayor of Castro Street. Shilts wrote the book while unable to find a steady job as an openly gay reporter. The Times of Harvey Milk, a documentary film based on the book’s material, won the 1984 Academy Award for Documentary Feature. Director Rob Epstein spoke later about why he chose the subject of Milk’s life: “At the time, for those of us who lived in San Francisco, it felt like it was life changing, that all the eyes of the world were upon us, but in fact most of the world outside of San Francisco had no idea. It was just a really brief, provincial, localized current events story that the mayor and a city council member in San Francisco were killed. It didn’t have much reverberation.” Milk’s life has been the subject of a musical theater production, an opera, a children’s picture book, and the biopic Milk, released in 2008 after 15 years in the making. The film was directed by Gus Van Sant and starred Sean Penn as Milk and Josh Brolin as Dan White, and won two Academy Awards for Best Original Screenplay and Best Actor. It took eight weeks to film, and often used extras who had been present at the actual events for large crowd scenes, including a scene depicting Milk’s “Hope Speech” at the 1978 Gay Freedom Day Parade.

Milk was included in the “Time 100 Heroes and Icons of the 20th Century” as “a symbol of what gays can accomplish and the dangers they face in doing so”. Despite his antics and publicity stunts, according to writer John Cloud, “none understood how his public role could affect private lives better than Milk … [he] knew that the root cause of the gay predicament was invisibility”. The Advocate listed Milk third in their “40 Heroes” of the 20th century issue, quoting Dianne Feinstein: “His homosexuality gave him an insight into the scars which all oppressed people wear. He believed that no sacrifice was too great a price to pay for the cause of human rights.”

In August 2009, President Barack Obama posthumously awarded Milk the Presidential Medal of Freedom for his contribution to the gay rights movement stating “he fought discrimination with visionary courage and conviction”. Milk’s nephew, Stuart, accepted for his uncle. Shortly after, Stuart co-founded the Harvey Milk Foundation with Anne Kronenberg with the support of Desmond Tutu, co-recipient of 2009 Presidential Medal of Freedom and now a member of the Foundation’s Advisory Board.  Later in the year, California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger designated May 22 as “Harvey Milk Day“, and inducted Milk in the California Hall of Fame. Since 2003, the story of Harvey Milk has been featured in three exhibitions created by the GLBT Historical Society, a San Francisco–based museum, archives, and research center, to which the estate of Scott Smith donated Milk’s personal belongings that were preserved after his death.

Harry Britt summarized Milk’s impact the evening Milk was shot in 1978: “No matter what the world has taught us about ourselves, we can be beautiful and we can get our thing together … Harvey was a prophet … he lived by a vision … Something very special is going to happen in this city and it will have Harvey Milk’s name on it.”

Wikipedia

You Can Make the Difference

Photo: Courtesy of Elizabethkuhnke’s Blog

Do you know those days when you go to a site, such as WordPress or YouTube or Twitter and you just get lost? Whether it is reading the blogs of others, listening to music, answering tweets, or some other form of locked focus, suddenly you realize that you have been at it for hours and are surprised by how time has just flown by?

Well, yesterday was one of those days for me, and YouTube was the site I found myself immersed in. It started out with music and somehow turned into viewing videos of really strange happenings, such as the 7-year-old boy who had an emergency operation and what would have been his twin, was removed from his abdomen, to stand up comics, to the kind of video that knocks your socks off and sort of kicks you in the behind.

One such video I must share with you all. If only more of us could have the passion and the guts that this girl has, we could make a difference. If only I, Cindy, could harness and develop my passion to the level this girl has already accomplished, I could make a real difference.

One person can and does make a difference. Because one person who speaks up or begins an action will be joined by one more, and then another and another, until there is a mass. Do you know the Trayvon Martin case? He was a 17-year-old boy in Florida who was shot by a 28-year-old neighborhood watch man. For more details, just Google Trayvon Martin. Due to some law called the “Stand Your Ground” law, the shooter, George Zimmermann, was not arrested and was not going to be charged. But the law did not fit the circumstances as a defense, so people immediately stood up, spoke up, and did something that made a difference.

According to the Washington Post, “44 days of marches, protest and acrimony on the air waves” led to Florida’s Special Prosecutor, Angela Corey, arresting and charging Zimmerman of Second Degree Murder. There have been quite a few updates and goings on about this case since then, and I do not yet know what they are, but the point is, action was taken and the goal of those actions was achieved.

The young girl in the following video is just one voice, but when one more speaks up and then another, the mass can and will be heard. This girl speaks of environmental issues. That may not be your cup of tea, but please do take a few moments to listen to her speech. She is knowledgeable, passionate, and angry. And she makes a damn good argument that I would be surprised if anyone would disagree with her.

What is it that I am passionate and angry about? Bullying! It is a national epidemic that needs one person at a time to step up, speak up, and do something, anything, to stop it. I am one person, but I am most certainly not alone in this fight. Many others are working tirelessly to educate, inform, and convince all who will listen that something needs to be done and is being done. Care to join me?

Let’s Laugh, Shall We?

I am a simpleton and I am easily amused. Very easily. For example, here is a couple of jokes that still seriously crack me up.

A duck walked into the pharmacy and asked the pharmacist for some chap stick. The pharmacist went to the back and promptly returned with the duck’s request, at which point the duck replied, “Just put it on my bill.”

Or, why wouldn’t the skeleton cross the road? Because he had no guts!

Yes, I find those silly kids jokes to be quite funny. Maybe because there wasn’t as much laughter in my childhood as there should have been. I don’t know, but I do love to laugh (I mean, who doesn’t, yes?) And sometimes when reality is lacking anything to find humor in, I turn to other people and their situations, realities, or experiences where laughter can be found. Sometimes it is through people I know, either in person or online through your blogs or through Facebook or from a comedy movie.

Today, I ran across something on YouTube that I first heard when I was in my early teens. My cousin Dawn, who is about 4 years older than I am, and her family came to visit from Michigan. We sat in a small trailer, owned by the man my mother was dating at the time, and listened to this on a cassette tape. I find it just as hilarious now as I did then. This clip is of Bill Cosby telling the story about chocolate cake for breakfast. I hope you can take the time to listen and enjoy a good laugh!

Brilliant and Bravo!

On May 14, 2012, a brilliant essay, Marriage is a Fundamental Right in a Free Society, was posted by Tori on Fork in My Eye (a blog that is among those I read most, because of its amazing content!) I do not believe I have read anything before, and so far, not since, that gives such a clear and objective perspective. There is little more I could add, so without further ado, here it is, reblogged from Fork in My Eye.

Today, I am hosting a guest writer for whom I have great respect.

He is a retired Navy Captain, a Vietnam vet, a student of American history, an engineer who spent thirty years building warships, and a fiscal conservative who believes in limited government and a strong military. Based on this, you might entertain certain preconceived notions about his other beliefs. You would likely be wrong. He is a man of great integrity who has always taught me that education, tolerance and compassion are the keys to maintaining our American way of life. See for yourself. Here’s an enlightening essay from my dad:

Social philosopher F. A. Hayek said “A free society is a pluralistic society without a common hierarchy of particular ends.” It should matter not to each of us whether our neighbor is a Buddhist, Islamic, Christian, atheist, agnostic, or free-thinker. It should matter not if a couple is of the same-sex. What matters is that s/he not infringe on the free choice of others. In order to achieve that free society we have established laws to protect our fundamental rights as established in our Constitution and the 14th Amendment.

Unfortunately some States, North Carolina being the most recent, have passed laws banning same-sex marriage. That may be due to ignorance, bigotry, a lack of education, a religious belief or some combination of them. It matters not. What matters is that they have elected to impose something as a rule of law that is counter to our fundamental right of free association.

Tolerance is a virtue. It is also a necessity in a free society. Our freedom means that we must tolerate what others believe whether we agree with them or not. We need not agree on every aspect of our lives in order to live peacefully with one another; however we should accept the actions of others so long as they are peaceful.

Compare this to socialism or fascism. Those systems require a single hierarchy of ends; the collective decides which ends will be pursued and which not. One’s particular ends must be subordinated to the priorities of the State or collective. The result is not the peaceful disagreement and tolerance of good order, but rather fighting over the reins of power in order to achieve one’s ends at the expense of others. Instead of a society where everyone wins, we have a society where the State wins and many of us lose.

Our society should be one where we may pursue anything that is peaceful; it should be limited only by our ambition and our respect for the rights of others. States that pass laws banning same-sex marriages are infringing on a fundamental human right. They are continuing us on a trend where our social environment is becoming less free and more controlled by the State.

by Tori on Fork in My Eye

One More Lesson About Bullying

Here is a wonderful clip I first saw on Hearts That Care. I want to post this for all to see, not just for the great sound of magnificent voices, but as another way to bring awareness about the wrongfulness of being judgmental and bullying. Listen to the pre-interviewing that takes place with Jonathan and hear what cruel words have done to him. And then listen to the words of Charlotte and the example she is to those who hear her perspective and the difference it made in Jonathan’s life. Finally, stick around to hear the two of them sing and see for yourself that no matter what wrapping we come in, there is something beautiful and awe-inspiring in all of us, if only we take a moment to stop, look, and listen.

Angels for Sara—reblogged

I recently started following  A Life Less Scripted, and the first post I read on her blog was titled Angels for Sara. A horrible thing happened to a very kind woman and the effects are still haunting her and her family. I am all for awareness, so I am reposting this for all my blog followers to read. Though I have been in a situation where my district Manager’s husband touched and tickled me inappropriately and made me extremely uncomfortable, and I was not fired, but quit because of it, I cannot even begin to fathom what poor Sara is dealing with and having to face on a daily basis. Please, please read this short post written by Karen and reposted from her blog, A Life Less Scripted. If anyone can help in any way, whether it is monetary, legally, in the form of helping her find work, or affordable counseling, or, like Karen says, just kind words and genuine support, please do so!

Sara, a business associate of my husband’s, was raped by her boss a couple months ago. Hubster found out about it because she posted a link on her Facebook page asking for help. He sent me the link and said, “You remember Sara. She’s the one who gave C the little blue sunglasses and outfit when he was born.”

Yes, I remember Sara. Sara, who always asks about the kids whenever she comes into Hubster’s office. Sara, who has 3 kids of her own and a huge heart. Sara, who cares so much about other people, even total strangers.

I can’t believe this happened to Sara.

Sara reached out to her friends on Facebook because she doesn’t know what else to do. She lost her job and has been struggling to find another job since, even though she is barely emotionally able to function. Her utilities are in jeopardy of being cut off and her rent is behind. She’s trying to be strong and wants to protect her 3 children from what happened to her. She is lost and scared and hopeful and praying.

Her story is heartbreaking and tough to read because it’s so real. It’s not professionally edited. It’s sometimes hard to follow because she wrote it under duress. Her pain is raw and she’s trying so hard to be strong.

Sara needs angels. She needs people who can spare a little money, who can give her encouragement and who can help her make sense of what she’s going through.

Please read her story. Please help in any way you can. Not everyone can help financially but prayers and words of encouragement are free. Share this link or the MicroGiving link with everyone you know. Please be one of Sara’s angels.

http://www.microgiving.com/profile/Feefer1979

You can send her encouragement through the MicroGiving site or email her directly at feefer1979 at hotmail dot com.

Blessings,

Karen

What a Wonderful World

I left off with kind of a sad and melancholy post, not feeling my usual self, and said I would return the next day to make up for it. Here it is, four days later, and I am just returning. Ouch! Well, Tuesday I was just exhausted and needed to rest and hang out with the ladies for a while and on Wednesday, I woke up with the worst back ache in my lower back and could hardly move. I took a motrin and a muscle relaxer and slept for 12 hours. Yikes! I suppose I really needed the sleep. I felt much better, though, when I awoke.

Thursday, the ladies had a doctor appointment, and then Mary and I spent two hours at the grocery getting an overloaded basket of things we needed for both houses. When I returned and put all the groceries away, Cherie was hurting pretty bad from the appointment (nerve doctor), so I laid in bed next to her and we watched Six Feet Under for hours and when I could no longer keep my eyes open, at seven this morning, I went to bed. I have slept for only four or so hours this morning, but I am feeling great! I will begin my blogging today with a much happier song than the one I left you with earlier this week. I love, love, love Louis Armstrong, and hope you enjoy this familiar tune!

The ladies have just recently obtained a fleet of boats. Now, now, don’t get too excited. There is a four seater paddle boat and two canoes. I am off to help Mary hose them down and clean them up a bit, so the muscular maintenance men can haul them down to the slip yard and put them on their perspective storage racks. We may take one of the canoes for a little test run. Fun, yes?

Now, crank up the volume, be happy, and be sure to check back for more of my posts later this afternoon!

The Sound of Silence

 

A very gray day today and I cannot seem to shake it. Here is a song that sort of conveys what I am feeling. Yuck! I can’t wait until it passes me by, which it will, but not a moment too soon. This will be my only post today, but I will be back tomorrow and make up for it. For now, for me, I think an early turning in and calling it a night is what is in store. Happy blogging, my friends!

I Won’t Give Up

My mother never gave up on me. Sure, there were quite a few years that we didn’t speak a word to each other, but that was my doing, not hers. While I was on drugs and sleeping on the street, my mother had no idea where I was or if I was even alive. She didn’t judge me; she only prayed for me, and patiently waited. On that first phone call, after five or so years without any, my mother was happy, relieved, and so genuinely grateful to hear from me. Her love never waned and her prayers may very well have been a huge part of what saved me.

My mother passed away almost three years ago now, but I truly believe she still watches over me, prays for me, and still has not given up on me. I miss her terribly, but I find comfort in the fact that, though she was only 61 years old when she died, she did have a full life. Her children were safe, happy, and successful; she had five grandchildren whom she adored; she had attended an extended family reunion just months before; she celebrated her 20th wedding anniversary a month before that; she was successful, very loved and respected, and enjoyed her career; she was very involved and deeply content in her church; and she had many loyal and dedicated friends. There was nothing left undone, and though her passing was sudden, unexpected, and tragic, God chose just the right time to bring her home to join her own mother and sister.

I have learned many things from my mother, and her not giving up on me was one of them. I not only will  not give up on myself, but I will Never give up on my two sons, Jeremiah and Zachariah. I love them so very much and today, in honor of Mother’s Day, I dedicate this song to them both.

74-Year-Old, Olivia Morgan, University Valedictorian

How could I not post this incredibly inspiring story! Not that I ever felt that I was too old to go to college (I attended my first class when I was 36; I am 41 and still going), but this proves to anyone out there who thinks they are too old, they most certainly are not! Most of what can be found on Google, about Olivia Martin, are news videos (I have included two of these at the end of this post), but I did find a thorough interview by Dennis Taylor from Mercury News. I have a really hard time with paraphrasing and summarizing, and though this would have been a great piece to practice on, I did not want a single detail left out. This is such a wonderful story and I would like you to enjoy Olivia Martin’s success as much as I have.

When a 47-year relationship with her husband ended abruptly as she approached her 70th birthday, Olivia Morgan found herself feeling sad and frightened in equal parts.

Not only was she alone for the first time since her early 20s, Morgan suddenly found herself financially vulnerable.

“Not only was I devastated by the emotional trauma of the end of a long-term marriage, but I also had some very real financial problems,” said Morgan, 74, a California resident since she moved here from her native Wales in 1962. “I realized I had to supplement my tiny Social Security check.”

Her solution was to fall back on 40 years as an educator in Great Britain and the U.S. — including a 24-year stint at Santa Catalina School in Monterey — and become a substitute teacher in public schools.

The bad news, she discovered, was that California didn’t care about four decades of experience or the lifetime teaching degree she earned with highest honors in 1959 from the University of Wales, an extension of Oxford University. In the eyes of the state, she had no credentials to teach in California’s public school system.

So two years ago, Morgan went back to college, enrolling in an accelerated, two-year course at the Monterey extension of Chapman University, recently renamed Brandman University.

On Saturday she’ll stand before her fellow graduates, their families, her three adult sons and her grandchildren to deliver the commencement speech as valedictorian of her class.

“My speech is about going back to college, but also about getting rheumatic fever when I was 11, being told I’d never walk again, then getting it again at 15,” she said. “A specialist said I might walk someday if I did years of physical therapy. I looked in the mirror and said, ‘I can do that,’ and I did. I actually danced with my dad on Christmas Eve.”

Born in 1938, Morgan’s earliest memory is huddling with her family in the dark and dampness beneath the streets of Swanzea, Wales, as German planes bombed the village.

“The house next door, where my best friend lived, got bombed and everybody was killed,” she said. “Our school was destroyed. It was a terrible, terrible time.”

She was the oldest of nine children born to a German mother and Italian father — not a desirable ethnic mix for residents of Great Britain during World War II.

“My parents had a lot of their property confiscated during the war and they never got it back, similar to what happened to the Japanese in the United States,” she said. “We all used my mom’s maiden name — Jones — during the war.” (Morgan’s birth name was Olivia Romano.)

In childhood she lived next door to the sister of future actor Richard Burton, whom she remembers as a handsome teenager with an unforgettable voice that made her believe, even then, that he was destined for great things.

As a 16-year-old she was hired as a cub reporter at her local newspaper, writing stories about singer Shirley Bassey, scuba diving, a scandalous “pajama dance” at the university, and whether drivers were more likely to change a flat tire for a pretty girl, as opposed to a homely one.

Morgan grew to be a statuesque beauty, winning 38 pageants in her youth — “Silly things, like ‘Miss Tea & Crumpets’ and ‘Miss Marilyn Monroe,’ she said with a blush — a trait that ran in the family. In 1960, her grandmother, a gymnast into her 90s, was named “Fittest Old Age Pensioner in Great Britain.” Her mother was “Mrs. Great Britain,” and 22-year-old Olivia won the “Miss Wales” pageant — an award that earned her a full-ride scholarship to the University of Wales.

From left: Hanora Jones (Olivia’s grandmother), Olivia Morgan and Olga Romano (Olivia’s mother) in a photo from 1960. (VERN FISHER/The Herald)

The same year she traveled to German for a study vacation, became lost and was rescued by a handsome American, Kelly Morgan, who helped her find a place to stay.

“I went back that Christmas to go skiing and saw him again,” she said. “Eighteen months later we were married.”

Morgan taught in Stuttgart, Germany, before moving with her husband to America in 1962, where she found a teaching job in an all-Latino class in East Los Angeles.

“They didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Spanish. It was a nightmare,” she said. “I was mostly babysitting, but they were nice kids.”

In addition to the teaching job she held to put her husband through school, Morgan raised her three sons while attending night classes at L.A. City College.

They moved in 1968 to the Monterey Peninsula, where Kelly became Monterey’s city planner and she was hired to teach at Santa Catalina, a job she kept for 2½ decades.

“I’ve always felt very confident about my teaching abilities, perhaps because I had eight younger siblings,” she said. “I’ve always believed in breaking the traditional teaching rules and doing things a bit differently.”

She once escorted Santa Catalina students into the pouring rain for a lesson about writing rain poetry. (The students had brought a change of clothes.) Another time she fed second-graders at Junipero Serra School “horse food” — oatmeal with dried apricots, cranberries and almonds — during a lesson about equines.

She regularly shows up at classrooms with her “Mary Poppins bag,” filled with lesson-related surprises for the children. And she showed up dressed as Cleopatra, bearing oat cakes made from a 500-year-old recipe, for a presentation on ancient Egyptian history at Chapman University.

But the prospect of switching from teacher to student at age 72 was daunting and unsettling. Surrounded by students bearing laptop computers, Morgan took her notes in shorthand she’d learned six decades earlier in Wales. A statistics class overwhelmed her, in part because she also had to learn how to use Excel computer software. She was unimpressed with some online classes she was required to complete, mostly because of the lack of teacher-student interaction.

“And I found out you don’t hand in your paper anymore — you attach a document to an email,” she said. “I accidentally sent the professor my favorite chocolate cake recipe, instead of my paper, on my first try.”

Classes often lasted until 10 p.m., and professors assigned four hours of homework for each hour of class.

“It was very intense, a full-time job,” she said. “But my love for learning returned, and, after feeling overwhelmed for a while, I looked in the mirror one day and said, ‘You can do this!’ And I did.”

She’ll celebrate graduation with a visit to Wales, where her family still lives, then plans to have hip-replacement surgery before applying for work in the local public school systems.

“I was reluctant to tell this story. I’m a humble person,” she said. “But I think it might inspire other seniors.

“And I’m very nervous about giving my speech to all those people at graduation — especially when I know my three sons and grandchildren probably will be making faces at me the whole time.”

By DENNIS TAYLOR from Mercury News

Reflections of a Recovering Addict, #10

A great place to find online support groups, believe it or not, is Facebook. Usually these groups are closed or secret, which means that only group members can view anything posted there. The group’s postings will show up in your news feed, but it is only visible to you and the members of the group, not by anyone on your friend’s list (unless, of course, they are also in the group).

How do you become a member? Another member already in the group must add you, so your best bet is to post a message that asks your friends to please add you to any recovery groups they are involved in. If that does not work, you may send me a friend request (Cindy Clark Riemersma), I will accept and will add you to any group I am in, once you let me know you would like to be added. I belong to about 10 or 12 of these recovery groups. By the way, I also belong to a group called Breaking the Cycle that is for survivors of abuse, if anyone is interested.

One of the groups I am a member of, and in my personal opinion, one of the best of the bunch, is called Relapse Prevention. There is a lot of good recovery there and a little joking around for fun. There are also many documents regarding recovery that the founder, Mike Vedovat, has posted. One such document contained the 12 steps in a simplified form. I originally thought that Mike had written this version and wanted to get his okay to post it on my blog before I did so. I have recently learned that he did not write these simplified steps and that he does not know who did, but Mike strongly encouraged me to post them for all to see.

If you are in recovery and follow a 12 step program, then you may get a kick out of this. If you are not, but always wondered what the 12 steps are and how they could possibly help someone in the razor-sharp grip of the talons of addiction, this just may clear it up for you. Believe me, these steps are crucial to the healing and growing process that we gain within our recovery. They take time and they take hard work. And every step is important.

Step One—There’s a power that will kill me. 

Step Two—There’s a power that wants me to live. 

Step Three—Which do I want? (If you want to die, stop here. If you want to live, go on.) 

Step Four—Using examples from your own life, understand that selfishness, dishonesty, resentment, and fear control your actions. 

Step Five—Tell all your private, embarrassing secrets to another person. 

Step Six—Decide whether or not you want to live that way anymore. 

Step Seven—If you want your life to change, ask a power greater than yourself to change it for you. (If you could have changed it yourself, you would have long ago.) 

Step Eight—Figure out how to make right all the things you did wrong. 

Step Nine—Fix what you can without causing more trouble in the process.

Step Ten—Understand that making mistakes is part of being human (When you make a mistake, fix it, immediately if you can.) 

Step Eleven—Ask for help to treat yourself and others the way you want your higher power to treat you. 

Step Twelve—Don’t stop doing 1 through 11, and Pass It On!!

As you can see in step 12, once you have made it through each one, you are not done, you are not cured, and you do not graduate. You continue working the steps, pass them on to others who are recovering, and understand that where drugs/alcohol/gambling/eating/etc. were your way of life, now recovery is your way of life. You must follow this program for the rest of your life. It is, what addicts like to call, a solution. The solution. And for those who stick with it, recovery is ongoing and so much can and will be restored to you.

It is not just our minds and bodies that have been wrecked. It is our relationships with family and friends; it is our financial history, credit history, criminal history, and over all reputation that is part of the damage. During active addiction, we have proven to be untrustworthy, unreliable, and unwanted for things such as jobs, apartments, and bank accounts. It is through the work of the steps that we begin to cut out our self-inflicted cancer and begin to build all things healthy. The steps for us, are literally the ladder out of our hole.

My hope in posting this is that those who are in recovery can see how simple the steps really are, and those who know people in recovery may gain a new level of respect for the work that goes into our solution.

Ghost Town

Ooooooo! Eerie! Spooky! Almost creepy, even. I am traveling to New York to pick up our good ol’ pup client, Tucker. I have my phone with me and get all my emails directly, and I keep my eyes peeled for new posts as we cruise along the highway. No, I am not driving, just riding along enjoying the scenery and the sunshine.

I am shocked at how very few new posts have hit my inbox. I am not complaining or criticizing in any way, but it is very unusual. I am guessing that between the nice weather and Mother’s day this weekend, all are out and about and enjoying life.

Good for you! But, please don’t be gone long. Selfish, I know, but I will miss you otherwise.

Happy Mother’s Day and have a Happy Weekend!

Cherokee Wisdom

Do you know those emails that are forwarded to you and countless others that clog up your box and are marked for deletion without ever being read? The ones where you see the three letters FWD, and you think Ugh, not another one? I know them well too, as none of the eight email accounts that I use are immune. However, every once in a while, something catches my attention in the subject line and I open and read what is inside. More seldom than that, I read something that I like.

One one of these occasions, I actually wrote down what the email contained. I came across it recently and was again struck by how profound the message is and I want to share it with you. I wish I could credit who wrote this, but I cannot because I honestly do not know. This little dialogue will conclude my post, as there is truly nothing more that needs to be said.

An old Cherokee told his grandson, “My son, there is a battle between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth.”

The boy thought about it and asked, “Grandfather, which wolf wins?”

The old man quietly replied, “The one you feed.”

Reflection of a Recovering Guest Blogger, #2

I am very honored, pleased, and excited to present to you the next Reflection of Recovery by a guest blogger from Rockdweller’s Blog. Who is she? Allow me to introduce her as she has introduced herself on her blog, as I believe it says it all

I do not want to be the Rockdweller any longer. The creature at the bottom of the river, clinging tightly to the rocks. Resisting the current, fearing the unknown.
No, I wish to let go – to become the Riversurfer. To surf the currents of the river, wherever it takes me
.”

Riversurfer’s sobriety date is December 13, 2011, so as of today, she now has 151 days sober! Though she wrote this post four months ago, she is continuing to succeed in sobriety, and, by the way, the job interview mentioned was very successful. Riversurfer is very bright, very insightful, and her journey of recovery is strong and true.

This story is but a blink of her recovery and I encourage you to check out the rest of her blog! You will laugh and you will cry, you will feel inspired, you will feel grateful, and you will shout Hurray! And if you really take the time to pay attention to the words she writes, you will find that she is both a very unique individual and very much like you and me. I have personally gotten a lot out of her blog, and, as a matter of fact, this is the second time this week that I have reposted something she has published.  Read on and be blessed…be encouraged!

Forty-one days sober and I have been blessed with a few days in a row, completely disburdened from any thoughts of drinking. Living is the key, simple as that.

When I stopped drinking it was with this crazy and wild idea that I wished to live life to its fullest. No more hiding, no more running away, no more cowardice. And with my mind and heart set on this LIVING mode it is as if I had opened a door, and I must tell you that there is a constant flow of life in and out through this door. By life I mean—thoughts, emotions, occurrences, interactions, relations, senses, advancement, reflection, appreciation, and oh, so much, much more. Sometimes life flows gently, sometimes a whole tsunami surges in or out. And yes, I have been tempted to quickly slam shut that door, only for some peace and quiet. But the peace and quiet in the mind of this alcoholic means to run away and to hide from life. To be completely alone… Would I have given in to the temptation of closing the door, the next step would have been to seek out my old friend, the wine bottle. Because, I really do not wish to remain alone.

Where I stand today, at last with a little distance to the alcohol – I can look back at my life with drinking and take a good look at the present. And I am so thankful to be able to tell that there is a gigantic difference between now and then!

And that was one of my greatest intentions when I became sober (and always will be), to make big changes in my life. I don’t mean on the material level, everything remains basically the same on that plane. No, the changes that are to be made are all regarding my body, brain, and soul. And so determined have I been that I can see that change has begun, and for that am I immensely grateful. I am more willing than I have ever been before, to carry this through. To maintain my sobriety.

Would I have not become sober, then I would not have had the meetings and conversations that I have had with friends and so many other people. These meetings have been very insightful and meaningful and I have not brushed them off, so that I could quickly move on home to the wine that was awaiting. Instead, these meetings have helped me keep my mind and heart open. Would I have not been sober, I am sure I would not had been asked to come back on a third job interview to that same place, next time to meet the people who might just become my future colleagues. Would I have not been sober then I wouldn’t have stopped in the hallway when I come home, to cuddle my welcoming cats, who only want tender love and care. Now I love them to bits and then I take my shoes and coat off to enter the apartment. Previously in my life with drinking, I’d step over my cats, as I take off my backpack to get the wine out. Quickly I’d need to pour up a glass and have a gulp. Then I’d return to the hallway to take shoes and the coat off. But my cats would’ve been forgotten, as I wouldn’t have any minutes to spare for them. Minutes were very precious and sadly all dedicated to alcohol.

When I was drinking, Sundays caused me great anxiety , knowing that tomorrow I must, yet again, take care of all my duties. A job interview would only be another pressure, a lump in my tummy, another reason to drink. Oh… I don’t even want to think of the prison that I lived in 41 days ago; it makes me sick, makes me want to weep, it hurts and it makes me feel so dirty. What have I done to myself!?

Being where I am right now, safe and sober, gives me courage to return to those days and sense that horrible life that once was. To remember… today is light compared to yesterday’s darkness. And in comparison to yesterday, today seems brighter than ever before. I have peace in my soul and I am truthfully relaxed. I have cuddled my two boys to sleep and I listen to their soft breathing. I’m enjoying a delicious cup of green tea with honey and my body, brain, and soul are not influenced by any alcohol—only purely by life itself. Bliss.

~ Riversurfer

If anyone has a reflection from their own recovery and would like to be featured as a guest blogger on my blog, please let me know. I would really like there to be a variety of experiences that others who are recovering from addiction can draw hope and strength from.