Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

MotherAunt and SisterCousin






















Some of my favorite memories involve my aunts. Connie and Judy are my mother's sisters and have been a constant presence in my life. They used to babysit me, take me along on their dates, dress me up like a doll, etc. Note to Aunt Connie and Aunt Judy: Feel free to buy me pretty dresses any time.) The first time I got on a plane was to visit my Aunt Cess and her family. (Note to Aunt Cess: I still love to visit you and my cousins.) I still have frequent conversations with all of them.

The ladies posing in front of the tree are/were another generation of my mother's side of this wacky family. I can say that because I am also wacky. Front and center in this circa 1988 photo is Zelma (Bobbie,) my grandmother great aunt. Like many families, it was not uncommon for more than one sister to participate in rearing another's child/children. Grandma (on the left) gave birth to my mother and her sisters but Bobbie raised them.

Aunt Ann (next to Grandma) is the baby. She's always had the legs of a woman half her age. She and Uncle Harry have always lived nearby -- sometimes just down the street. Aunt Ann's daughters were my idols when I was in grade school. I didn't want to be like them -- I actually wanted to be them. Since I couldn't accomplish that, I would copy their mannerisms, their clothes, etc. I get to see them this weekend and I can't wait. No one laughs or makes me laugh like my Aunt Ann.

Aunt Jo (other side of Bobbie) died several years ago. I can't say I knew her well but she and my grandmother were thick as thieves. They might have been thieves for all I know; they walked a little bit on the wild side. Like my grandmother, Aunt Jo had some assistance from a sister in raising some of her children.

Aunt Hazel and Uncle Bob's (far right) youngest child is about my age. I used to go over for sleepovers with her. Aunt Hazel declared me, "Best Eater." Her children all had issues with vegetables or phobias about one food touching another on the plate. I was taught to eat whatever was put in front of me, especially at someone else's house. I'll have to let Aunt Hazel know that I still am a pretty good eater. It helps that all of the women of this generation are/were amazing cooks. Most, if not all, of their daughters are too.

Aunt Wanda and Aunt Grace died before the photo above was taken but I still have vivid memories of them too.

From a family of 13 children, (most of them pictured in the photo above taken in 1934) a large and blended family has emerged. I see parts of personalities that remained true their entire lives. Bobbie is sitting in a proper and ladylike way on the porch. She remained a pillar of strength and ladylike kindness her entire life. Grandma is sitting alone at the other end of the porch on the swing. She often removed herself from people and situations.

Each generation since then has become a little more fragmented but many of us are closer than ever. Can you imagine the two people sitting on that porch swing in the 1934 photo (my great grandparents) being told that in a few short generations, their offspring would travel by plane or communicate regularly through computers and cell phones. What if someone had told them that I would learn of my cousin's new job through a text message? While posing with their children, imagine if someone had told them that in 2009, their great granddaughter would take 10 seconds to scan this photo and write about their legacy.

Some people have mothers who they find out later is really grandmother. Some people have sistercousins and brothercousins. Some people go far into adulthood before finding out that mother is really auntmother. Our family has some of those mixed relationships. For the most part we don't hide it; we embrace it. There's enough love to go around and then some.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Peggy Lynn


There is a fourth goldie. Or, she was supposed to be. The goldies call each other, text and email. We are not afraid to say, "I am in my closet and I am scared about my life" Until the other night, I had not spoken to Lynn in 25 years or so.

So I answered the phone to hear, "Hi Sher, it's Lynn." (Very few people call me Sher." Just hearing her voice sent me over the moon.)

I couldn't put a sentence together or gather a coherent thought. I kept picturing us in high school. I was so busy with memory lane that I could not concentrate.

She was the smartest person I knew in high school; she skipped graduation ceremonies.
She was the first person I knew to get a tattoo.
She was the first person I knew to have a baby out of wedlock, even though I personally took her for birth control.
She was the first person I ever knew to steal a car (her parents) and wreck it.
She left a toilet on my parents' lawn. Her sense of humor was contagious.


In our brief conversation, she still managed to shock me:
She does not have a computer, therefore no email.
She does not have a cell phone.
She only gives her phone number to trusted people. (I have it.)

Here's the kicker: she told me she named her second son after my father. For someone who did not spawn a boy, he seems to have a lot of people name their sons after him. She also asked, by name, about my mother. I could not tell you her parent's names if you threatened to pluck my fingernails out.

Jan and I are having lunch with her on Sunday. I cannot wait. I wish Deb would get on a plane and come along.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Texting

I am a dinosaur. I try to keep up with technology and then I get overwhelmed. I am so far behind the times it becomes absurd. I think I'm really hip (no one says that anymore, do they?) that I know how to blog and post comments.

Yesterday, the baby showed me how to send and receive text messages. I don't know all the lingo or shortcuts but now I'm a mad woman on a mission. I also (half way/sort of) learned how to program my phone.

My iTunes library had lots of duplicates so I worked on cleaning that up. It was definitely a techie day. Several of my friends will be relieved that I am trying to catch up with the times.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Do You Google Yourself?

Another confession. Every few months I google myself to see what shows up. (I also google lots of you.) Try as I might, technology is always way ahead of me. But I made the conscious decision to put myself out there with a blog and a website. It's funny to see the key words that pop up.

When I did it this morning, the first thing to pop up was my fierce attachment to the "Riley" name.

It made me smile.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

90 Minutes of Fun

A recent study in Women's Health Magazine announced that men spend an average of 90 minutes more fun time each day than women.

To which, I say, "Duh!"

I can only comment on what I see in my world. Here's what I see:
Women with young children who bear the bulk of the child care.

Women who work outside the home and then come home to do the majority of the household stuff.

Women (like the Belle) who devote their entire lives to making sure their spouse is happy.

Women who feel guilty if they read a book or take a bubble bath when there's work to be done.

Women who can balance a baby on one hip (child or grandchild) while loading a grocery cart, unloading the trunk and making something for dinner.

Women who visit friends in the hospital, parents in assisted living and children who might need a hug.

Women who stand by their husbands when he needs it.

Women who know how to use pliers, the snow blower, the lawn mower and more.

Women who juggle a social calendar for their spouse, the never-ending calendar for their children and the medical appointments for the entire family.

Women who wear boots because they couldn't find a pair of matched socks.

Women who know where the spare set of keys are located. All of them.

Women who don't need to scroll through the contact list. They know all of the numbers by heart.

Women who file the paperwork, whether it's insurance or the accountant.

Women who automatically know if the household is low on milk or light bulbs.

Women who suffer and live with arthritis, MS or even more dire circumstances but they still leap the fence for someone they love.

Women who learned the latest technology because that's the preferred way to keep in touch with their children or grandchildren.

Women who make daily to-do lists and later realize there is nothing on the list about their life or their needs.

Sorry guys. I suspect a lot of you owe your wife, daughter and mother a big "Thank You" for keeping your life in order.

Monday, April 28, 2008

The Sandbox



I guess I was born attracted to sand.  My mother grew up in Florida.  I have lots of relatives in Florida and the south. My grandparents (Bobbie and Pa) had a sandbox in their back yard, built especially for me.  I shared it with my cousins but always considered it mine. This photo is my hunky dad and me on the beach.  I believe it's circa 1966.

Last week I had lunch with a very talented writer. I used to work with him in my corporate life. His grasp of opportunities and technology inspired me. It also made me want to throw my head in the sand.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Quakin'

We had an earthquake Friday. I was clueless until my phone started to ring and I turned on the news.

Indiana is known for snow storms and tornadoes. We don't deal with earthquakes often, although we are close to a fault line. This one took every one by surprise.

I thought maybe I could count on the dog to clue me in on aftershocks. Since she barks at air, this does not seem probable.

I'm quakin' for other reasons:
Is the oldies' paperwork ever going to diminish?
Can I take some of my knowledge gained through my conference and turn it into productive activity?
Is my judgment so askew that I have misread situations and friends?
What can I do (more/better) to help friends in rough times?
Will I ever feel up to speed regarding technology?
When the husband and I have different goals, will I find the compromise? Will he?

A minor earthquake doesn't rock my world. The daily questions make me shake, rattle and roll.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Ring Tones

When I call my girlfriend, her cell phone ring is REO Speedwagon's "Time For Me to Fly." (We were listening to it on 8 track in high school.) That was one of our favorite groups and one of our favorite songs. Her phone could be buried in the bottom of her handbag but she knows instantly that it's me. I'm impressed and jealous. She programmed my phone so when Big Daddy calls, instead of his phone number, it says, "Husband."

The baby has different ring tones for different people. I have no idea what mine is but we've joked that maybe it should be that old song, "The Bitch is Back." Yet, he still answers.

Big Daddy and the daughter text each other. Learning text messaging is next on my technology agenda but I'm not sure I have the dexterity. How did I get so far behind?

Sunday, December 2, 2007

Christmas Music -- The Hunt

Technology changed at a frightening pace in my childhood and early adulthood ... microwaves, VCRs, etc. One of the biggest changes was music. We went from 45s to 8-tracks to albums and cassettes to CDs. Today, you can download anything you want on the Internet.

We played a lot of Christmas music in my childhood home. When CDs became the norm, smart music companies released old, old tracks and albums on CD. My mother and I went on the hunt. We had to find all of our old favorites on CD.

Don't underestimate us. We did it. And we continue to call each other and ask, "Do you have (name an artist) version of (name a song.) There are only so many holiday songs and carols but we all have our opinion of the singer who sings it best.

My parents have CD players in their home and CD capabilities in their car. I have these things too. But, I also have my iPod which allows me to download and program. (When did I become this geek?) I've made this extremely elaborate holiday play list. The great thing is I can plug it in the household sound system or I can keep it just for me when everyone else gets sick of it.

I'm a successful hunter too. Just not for the same things that my animal hunter friends and family do. I can't shoot a deer but if you need some holiday music, come to my house.

I love everything from the hymns to the current (last 20 or so years.) Here's a sampling of my faves:

My Grown-Up Christmas List, Amy Grant
Blue Christmas, Elvis
Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, Brenda Lee
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Tony Bennett
White Christmas, Bing Crosby
Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer, Gene Autry
Santa Baby, Eartha Kitt
O Holy Night, Johnny Mathis
Silent Night, Barbra Streisand

I have a ton more but I suspect you do too.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

An Oldies Thing

There are certain things that I am convinced simply happen due to aging. I call them, "Oldies Things." Oldies things are not possessions; they are quirks and bizarre behaviors. I am comfortably settled in middle age but I watch and notice. I am developing some of these tics. Are you?

Here are a few I've noticed lately. And no, I will not tell you which ones I am also experiencing.

Wrapping everything in tissues, rubber bands, Ziploc bags or all of the above.
Repeating the same stories.
The daily diatribe about aches and pains.
Spending days on end without leaving home.
An insane focus on medications.
Constant discussions of bodily functions (and applause when the plumbing is working.)
A complete lack of interest in technological changes.
Routine. Routine. Routine.
The inability to remember your children, grandchildren, in-laws or siblings' names.
The inability to remember that a cell phone works differently than a land line.
Everyone and everything is involved in a conspiracy.
Food is the sole focus of the day.
Kids, dogs, drop-in guests make you crazy.
The weather channel and the Game Show Network are your favorites.
A never-ending compulsion with, "What's the date today AND what time is it?"
It's always cold.
Entitlements from everyone are expected: The government, children and more.

Just as I clamp my tongue between my teeth like Wild Bill, I catch myself wondering, "Is this my future?"

Thursday, October 11, 2007

The Little Black Book

People used to joke about single men's Little Black Book. They kept girlfriends' or dates' phone numbers at the ready. Some men put little stars or their own rating system in there. I think that's weird but Que Sera Sera.

Speaking of Doris Day ... in Pillow Talk, Rock Hudson went through his little black book and called every women to say "bye" so they could get married.

Everything is electronic now. People keep their calendars on their computer, their Blackberry or whatever the latest gizmo allows. If they need to reach someone, they scroll through their cell phone to find the number.

Not Me.

I am a dinosaur. Oh, I'm technical enough. I spend an incredible time on the computer. I email a ton. I do all of my research online. But if you need to ask me about something on the calendar, I will go pick up my trusty datebook. It's the same style and format that I've used for the last 20 years. It ain't broke so I'm not changing.

And then there's my little black book! It's magical. If I know you, you're in there (but I don't rate people with little stars.) It rarely leaves my possession. I have been on a beach (out of this country) and someone needs a phone number. I've been in a number of social situations and phone/fax/cell/email information was needed. Got it! It's in my book. My friend Cynthia thinks this makes me the perpetual Girl Scout.

Once I loaned the little black book to the mother-in-law -- just for a minute to jot down some phone numbers. She lost it for a bit. I sort of had a heart attack. (Kidding!) But, I was manic. She does every correspondence in bed so I was crawling around under the bed with no luck. Then, I started flipping the Unabomber around like a grilled cheese sandwich. Found it!

The dog took it off the counter once and I had to chase her around. I'm freaking out and she thinks this is A GREAT BIG FUN GAME. Well, I won. But, I had to tape parts of it back together.

I may not know what the husband or the children are up to at any given moment. I may forget to return a call. There are a lot of little details in life that escape me.

I know where my little black book is hiding.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

She Wants an iPod

This family is filled with music nuts. The husband plays in a band and listens to music every day. He and his mother relax by sitting at the piano and playing by ear. Both children have a fascination with music -- they're constantly introducing us to new groups or discovering musical interpretations that we've known for years. They both attend lots of concerts. Now the daughter lives in Austin, one of the music capitals of the country.

Thanks to the family, I own an iPod. Big Daddy, the daughter and the baby all have their own. I am not very skilled with programming it but I do listen to it every day. My favorite times are in the car or plopping it in my speaker system and taking it out on the patio. I have sole possession of the remote control.

Now the mother-in-law wants an iPod. She is not subtle. Every time she sees me headed to the patio with my little speaker system (remote control in hand,) she announces, "I want one of those." When she's in my car and I plug it in, she says, "I want one of those."

She did it again last night. I wanted to scream, "Then go buy one!" But I didn't. The husband said, "Maybe you should write a note to Santa." (That caused a little mini-stroke because I'm slapped with the knowledge that another holiday season is approaching and we will have passed the two year mark.)

We get a million catalogs. One of them is old music on CDs. For Christmas last year, I bought her every single one she had circled. Between what she already owned and the additions to her collection, she's built up quite a music library.

So, the husband said, "Even if you get an iPod, someone has to program it."

Suddenly, all eyes were on me.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Technology

I'm not super-smart and I'm not dumb. I'm muddling through the middle.

The mother-in-law often awes me. She's trying to understand her cell phone and its various features. We've had lesson after lesson about how to check voicemail on the cell phone and the home phone. She's almost there! Every electronic gizmo has multiple remotes. She's mastered the ones she needs.

An editorial I read recently went through the changes we've all experienced in the last 20 or so years related to technology. Manual typewriter to electric typewriter to desktop to laptop to Blackberry. Eight-track tapes to cassettes, 45s to albums to CDs, Beta or VHS -- now DVDs and Tivo. Not to mention the Internet.

I have great respect for people who keep learning.