"Jumping The Shark"

There comes a time when many great things become victims of their own success.  This is partly because the PEOPLE behind the great things start believing that they really are just too good for the rest of us.

The saying "Jumping The Shark" comes to mind because it's one that Stu and I often use to describe something that's just crossed over from being "bent" to being "broken".  I believe the original saying had to do with the sitcom "Happy Days" when there was some sort of silly stunt that Fonzie did related to a boat and water skis and a shark.

"Happy Days" was supposed to be about the 1950's, but I'm sure that anyone who actually grew up during that era, assuming they had time to be watching TV then as opposed to raising children, would spot a few things very wrong.  I had a similar situation myself watching "The Wonder Years" which was supposed to be set in the 1970's and actually aired when I SHOULD have been busy raising children.

What is it with things that are trying to be something they are not and never have been?  How about the ostentatious sign pictured above?  Is this appropriate for an abandoned shopping mall that was once "The Great Northwest; the biggest and the best?" I am quoting, from memory, a radio jingle from sometime in my youth, but God only knows what year.  I could actually sing it for you, but not in a blog.

Anyone who spent any time there during the 1990's was probably alarmed by the presence of obvious gangs with their trademark red or blue colored clothing and do-rags (I don't even know how to spell that, I'll admit, that's how naive I sometimes am).

Now, it's this big abandoned once-great shopping mall trying to be something else.  The only thing that appears to have changed there since August is this huge sign.  Someone is trying to get rich off of it, and they figured why not start with the sign.  Good luck with that, my friends.  You have zero control over the surrounding demographic, of which, ironically, I am currently a part.  This behemoth is just minutes from my beautiful new home.

I don't understand this, and I'm not going to try.  I just need to remember who and what I am in the here and now.  At this exact moment, I am getting a decent paycheck but no benefits from a good friend who is a small business owner in dire need of getting her assistant position defined properly and documented.

But until I can gain control and help her in the long term, I need to be quiet and not unintentionally get in her way.  I need to show up and answer her telephone and greet her customers from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Monday through Friday and try not to get sucked into the madness myself.

You see, she is a strong lady who has always run her own small business.  At the moment, she is struggling to keep her mind and family intact, thanks in part to some large companies who are literally in the business of screwing her over.

I get it, and that's what makes me valuable to her as a friend more than an hourly employee 35 hours a week.  We'll see how long this friendship and work relationship lasts.  For right now, we're both OK with it being temporary.

But the one thing I will try very hard NOT do is "Jump The Shark" and desire to have her life or business.  I need to be OK with the here and now.  Because, let's face it - this very life is temporary.  And I am already beyond blessed in so very many ways that my boss/friend is not.

And that's how I became Rose the Temp from 9-4 M-F.  I'll greet you pleasantly, I'll talk to you on the phone, I'll take your payments.  I won't engage with you because I simply can't.  I'm playing my role and nothing more, and therefore doing it well.

*Formerly Middle Class (FMC)

I just listened to bits and pieces of what sounded like a very interesting radio show on KTRS 550 AM on my way to the library and back.  The topic of the show was the cost of health care and health insurance and who is paying the bill.

This argument will continue to rage with a lot of angry energy spent on the parts of many people of many socioeconomic classes.  The closing words of the show seemed to indicate that "the middle class" was having to pay for those others known as "the poor".

What interests me lies below the surface, partly because of my unusual perspective on this situation.

First of all, I don't necessarily agree with how the United States of America defines "the poor".  But I'm not anxious to change that right away, because at this moment my very life may depend on my staying as part of that labeled group, at least temporarily.

Secondly, how many of "the poor" as currently defined got that way as a direct or indirect result of corporate greed which is running rampant in this country?  (And no, I'm not discounting stupid investments or failure to see obvious red flags, which are the major part of my recent financial history.)

The poor are totally invisible to those who are busy working day jobs, and I don't blame them.  It works well for me, as I can run to the library in my dirty car and dressed like a homeless person (long story) and not have to speak to a soul.

But I would love someone to do a statistical study on the current poor in this country, as opposed to the poor in this country 10 or 20 years ago.  I really want to know:  how many of "the poor" are like me?

Yeah, I realize it's not all about me.  But I still want to know.  I bet others do, too.

The message I keep hearing is that somehow everyone in this world needs to stop all the yelling and listen to each other and be willing to work together on a solution that is going to involve compromise for us all.  THERE IS NO QUICK FIX.

Middle class is shrinking rapidly in this country, as it has done in many other once-great countries.  Is anyone paying attention to that fact?  Or are we all (myself included most likely) so caught up in our own drama and troubles that we just totally fail to see it?

If anyone wants to offer to shut me up by giving me a full-time job, I'm still listening.

Sincerely,
MaryRose Cassell, FMC*

(I like that better than The Dropouts.  What do you all think?)

I'm Listening

There are many lessons in every single day.

My current illness is a lesson in patience.

My most recent botched job interview is a lesson in humility, and perhaps in career choice.

The honor of being trusted by a professional to perform temporary work for her is a lesson in my personal value.

I know there are many lessons out there for me that I'm not learning correctly yet, because I still need a steady income to support myself and my husband.

But I'm still listening.  Bring me the message.  I'll try to be patient.

I Procrastinate Because...

• I'm afraid of it
• I hate it
• I'm angry about what's behind it

How about you?  Admitting it is a step towards fixing it.

Public Radio is Classic (I Love It!)

I know it's been around for years and years -- but honestly, it has been years since I have even had access to it for free via an old-fashioned AM/FM radio.

National Public Radio is the greatest thing since sliced bread!

Oh dear, I did just show my chrono-age, didn't I?  LOL

I just discovered today that St. Louis Public Radio 90.7 has apparently picked up the Saturday noon feed of the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts, formerly aired by the late Classic 99 (99.1 FM), which I occasionally still mourn.

I'm not a fan of opera, although maybe I should try to acquire the taste-- for SongPop purposes, if nothing else.  But my late and great-in-her-own-way mother, Alice Elizabeth Hurford Lucas, was an opera fan.

I can remember Saturdays she would have KFUO-FM radio blaring in the kitchen while she did some chore, with that awful screeching in some foreign language.  I was a child and didn't know any better, but that was my perception then.

I'm not sure if I avoided the kitchen to avoid being forced to help with some awful chore like silver polishing, or because the music was just way too loud... or maybe I just didn't think Mom was in her "happy place" -- if she had one.  Who knows?

In December of 2012, with Mom having died in June of 1998, I could only guess that she acquired her love of opera while she was working in "sh-caw-go" for a period of time, living away from her childhood home and loving it.

For me, I'm just glad that I now have one less reason to dislike the new Christian station at 99.1, which one of my favorite Realtors has said that she finds quite enjoyable.

The World Continues...

The humans on this planet got it wrong, didn't they?  Mayans, Aztecs, Oreo-lovers, political pundits... whoever.  All of US.  Glad to still be here.

On a more local note in St. Louis, MO:  the weather guys also got it wrong - again.  No lovely blanket of white to share on Facebook for me.

But let's be fair:  this is not a town for the faint of heart to pursue careers in meteorology.

It's my hope that I shall never complain about a sky this blue and beautiful behind a starkly bare tree, as viewed from my office window.

(Next door neighbor's roof is way less interesting than the people living  there.)

I'm not sure, however, that I will be able to brave the current "23 degrees, feels like 9 degrees" that my internet screen tells me it is outside.

Poor Jack might miss walkies again today.  I still love my treadmill and my National Public Radio shows.

It's All Good.  Very Good.

Thin Line Between Love And Hate

Growing old is a challenge at any age.
Cloudy, overcast and chilly is a challenge for many people's attitudes.
Adjusting to one's first real winter since 2008 is a challenge for ME.

"Holidays are joyful, there's always something new."
"Oh, that we could always see such spirit through the year."
"Dysfunction rears its yuletide head."

Getting a job is a challenge at any age.
Getting a job in St. Louis depends largely on who you know.
Getting a job is going to happen soon for ME.

I love it here.  There are jobs.

I hate it here.  It's cold.

This is my personal least favorite time of year, but I always have secret hopes that this year will be better.

St. Louis is in my blood for several generations, and it shows.
I'm highly changeable, and that's OK.

I'm learning to love myself.  I've always been a late bloomer.  Others are learning to love me, too.