Author: patponderslife

I'm a writer, editor, wife, mother, grandmother, friend, seeker of truths with a small 't.' I've retired twice--once as a social worker/therapist and secondly as community college remedial writing instructor-tutor. My husband and I moved to north-central Florida in August 2015 when our grandson was born. Now he has a sister, and I cherish my time with them. I mostly reflect on life, and I write--essays, novels, novellas, stories, and lists.

Singing about freedom

~ patponderslife ~ 4 Comments

When I was in high school, I sang in a large choral group led by a human dynamo that probably stood no more than five feet tall. Her passion for music was contagious. When we performed, we filed in and placed ourselves on tri-level risers, girls unaccustomed to balancing in (freshly polished) three-inch heels, boys perhaps a bit self-conscious about wearing long robes. We shifted and adjusted ourselves, cleared our throats, then turned our attention to the front where she stood waiting patiently, expectantly. We knew all about what she expected of us: our best. And even if they wouldn’t have admitted it, not a single soul wanted to disappoint her.

Once we got settled, the altos, second sopranos, sopranos, the bass, baritone and tenors, all of us quiet and watchful, she raised her hands and held them there until she could see that every one of us were truly ready. All those practices would not hold a candle to the real performance, and we knew it. Her eyes found each face, she smiled with encouragement, then finally, she nodded, moved her hands, and we sang. When we sang for her, we did so with earnest and deep belief in the message of the song. Sometimes tears escaped from my eyes and the eyes of my fellow choir members. We were many youngsters who lifted our voices as one to the last chord, when she dropped her hands.

Can I say, it was magical? There is so much about high school that I have no memory of, but to this day, I can still hear that sound. Feel that moment.

“You’ll Never Walk Alone,” of course, was special and goose-bump worthy, but one of her/our favorites was a song adapted directly from Emma Lazarus’s famous 1883 poem, The New Colossus, which is (still) inscribed on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

When we sang, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” We didn’t just sing it; we poured every ounce of ourselves and our belief in our country into those words.

Because, see, at that time, it hadn’t been too long since our fathers, and perhaps older brothers, had gone to war to defeat fascism. We had joined with the rest of the free world to save those masses who yearned to breathe free and we thought we knew how precious that freedom was. Our country knew sacrifice and bore it proudly. Part of that pride was allowing—rather inviting—those seeking refuge to come here, to join with us and build our nation. To bring new customs and beliefs with them, share them with us, and to learn from ours.

And they came.

And, I would argue, we are richer for it.

Maybe someday we’ll remember what we stand for.

Thinking about intimacy

~ patponderslife ~ 6 Comments

Warning: This is not my typical post. In fact, depending on how you look at it, it could be considered offensive. However, if you don’t flinch at viagra ads, are okay with talking about breast cancer or menstrual pain, ask yourself: why did this topic make me uncomfortable?

I’m curious about the trend that some are describing as sudden. Women, so I hear, are opting out of dating. Some are saying that they are choosing their own company—with or without a good book and/or an animal companion—to the dating game.

First, let me place myself firmly in the married-for-over-fifty-years category. I was dating so many years ago that the pool, so to speak, was people we went to school with, worked with, or who were introduced to us by friends or family. Very few girlfriends ended up married to a ‘stranger,’ someone no one knew. And, needless to say, there was no internet, so there were no dating sites.

That said, I read. I keep up. And I have a daughter with a daughter. And I’m a feminist, so therefore interested in what’s going on in the world of women, part of which is coupling. I’m crusty enough to say that we, like all the other creatures on this planet, have a prime directive: assure the survival of our species. Procreate. It’s built into us, it is what causes us to be attracted to a member of the opposite sex, and to do what comes naturally with them.

The percentage of beings that aren’t wired that way is small enough that it in no way interferes with the prime directive, so don’t bother to argue with me about them.

So, what’s going on?

Lots of things, I would guess.

Number one, it’s a hassle. Way too much of one. To put yourself out there and sort through the eligible choices, then dress up, meet somewhere safe, take your own transportation, have a plan B, make sure your friends know where you are, etc. etc.

Number two attaches to number one: it’s scary. You never know about a stranger, no matter how clean and shiny his profile is. It’s too easy to fake everything, and the horror stories—although most of them are fictionalized TV shows—feel like warnings.

Number two attaches to number one: it’s scary. You never know about a stranger, no matter how clean and shiny his profile is. It’s too easy to fake everything, and the horror stories—although most of them are fictionalized TV shows—feel like warnings.

Number three, lots of women these days are pretty self-sufficient and have or make enough money to support themselves in a manner that suits them with enough left over to treat themselves at least occasionally. They don’t need someone to provide for them.

Which takes us to number four:

Have you shopped in CVS recently for, say cough remedies or Ace bandages, and made your way over to the personal care aisle? Good lord, the variety of personal vibrators is awesome. Who walks into a pharmacy and chooses a vibrator for personal care and pays for it without blushing? Today’s women do, that’s who! Not to mention the Amazon choices that they can buy and have delivered the next day with no one knowing that they haven’t given up on pleasure just because they aren’t dating.

I posted a joke on a Facebook group that I love for their irreverent, raucous fun that does not include being mean or rude, nor will it allow political comments. It’s called Writers, Readers, and Other Tom Foolery. It took me awhile to gather my nerve to post this joke, and you will see why: A woman walked into a pharmacy and asked, “Where are your vibrators?” The clerk nodded, crooked his finger and said, “Come this way.” as he turned and walked toward the personal care aisle. The woman then said, “If I could come that way, I wouldn’t be buying a vibrator.”

Within a couple of hours 143 people responded. Most of them by far posted laughing emojis and said (essentially) “Good one!” Only one lady said she thought the site was supposed to be clean fun, and lots of people encouraged her to lighten up. What I remember most about all that was the comments I got from women—probably younger ones—who not only got it, but also who participated in giving themselves pleasure routinely and weren’t embarassed to admit it. One woman even said it was how she relaxed enough to sleep every night. Every night! I applaud her willingness to talk about it. We’re all conditioned to talk about pain–all kinds–but embarassed to talk about pleasure. Why that is that? Maybe that’s a topic for another post.

Anyway,: back then, at the time of my joke, I hadn’t even heard about the trend to give up on dating, but once I did, I began to wonder. And then I went to the drug store and was surprised. Which led me to question if the personal care aisle at CVS had anything to do with it.

What do you think?