Advice for Young Women.

Getting old has been a journey that didn't come with special instructions. I don't remember anyone who is my age now, sitting me down and telling me about the facts of old age. Not to be confused with the facts of life. ...which you would think would include old age.

You would think that they would be willing to share their experiences with young folks. They sure didn't mind telling me how they raised their children. They didn't mind telling me how not to wear my clothes. They didn't mind telling me how they didn't like my music.

I had always heard that life begins at 40. I'm way past 40 now and I can tell you that was baloney. I heard that wisdom comes with old age. I'm not so sure that's true either.

So, I decided to take it upon myself to use my personal experiences to shed some light on a subject that should be shared:  "Getting old. "

First of all, let me just say to those of you out there who have been blessed with great legs.... Wear shorts. Wear them often and wear them, well, short. There will come a day when you can't show them off because the varicose veins and cellulite have made themselves at home.

For those of you who have been blessed with great boobs....Show them off. Show them off and be proud of them. Because there will come a day when you will find yourself looking for them under your arms, behind your back. Anywhere but where they use to be. And wrestling them into your bra will be your new Olympic sport.

For those of you who have been blessed with great hair. Flaunt it. Throw it around on your head and sling it with great pride. Because there will come a day when you find yourself paying less attention to the hair on your head and more attention to the hair growing under your nose. And we won't talk about what happens to your 'plumbing.' Let me just say that the fittings are loose and the pipes leak. And the gas lines are completely unpredictable.

For those of you who have never considered the day when your beauty will have faded and no one will give you a second look. Oh, you'll get second looks alright. And you'll question whether they are looking at the stuff you must have stuck between your teeth....or god forbid...hanging out of your nose.

Don't waste your precious time worrying about your weight. Be glad you're young. And don't hang around people who make you feel self conscious about your weight. They'll be the first to leave you when you're old.

So, my advice is this. Appreciate what you have. Appreciate what God has blessed you with. And work on your sense of humor more. Definitely work on your personality and sense of humor. Because at the end of your journey, when your beautiful hair is gone, your boobs are hanging around your waist and your legs will barely get you up a short flight of stairs, you'll need a sense of humor to get you through the day.

You're welcome.

Twenty Years In The Making.

This spring, the idea that I had twenty years ago will be celebrated. I still can't believe it.  Twenty years ago, we started the Spring Arts Festival.  I had waited for the arts to be included in the public school system because now I had my own little fella in the system.  Then I  realized that it probably wasn't going to happen. Instead of more concentration on the arts and validation that there was value in arts-in-education, I saw a decline and I saw more and more of what was offered slowly but surely being eliminated.

Having established the first afterschool enrichment center in Minden with the emphasis on the arts, I came to recognize an enormous opportunity to bring the arts to the community sans public education.  So, I pitched the idea of a festival for children to the board of Cultural Crossroads and it was an easy sell. Well, I say that now, maybe I didn't give them much of a chance to disagree. When you're talking about children and what they need, Minden is a great town to pitch.

We started planning and our first festival was held downtown with our now ever popular hands-on museum held in the same building that now houses City Artworks. We blocked the downtown area and brought in every imaginable arts discipline from music to theatre. Harmon Drew Super Group performed on the brick streets of Minden. Privately, I was disappointed in the turn out. I thought Harmon and his group deserved a bigger audience. But through the years, I would see disappointment again in many things that I thought would be cheered, celebrated, promoted and most importantly appreciated. And not that they weren't but not to the degree that I thought they should be.

It's been a labor of love and of heartache these twenty years. But I guess anything worth the fight is worth the battle. And I am admitting now that it has been a battle. As an advocate for the arts and certainly an advocate for children, I thought combining the two would be an easy sell. But to be honest, it hasn't.  Every year I would agonize over what could we do this year that would really get their attention? What could we offer that would really show them that this is truly a good thing? And when would the school system finally understand that they need Arts-In-Education?

So, now here we are 20 years later and I am looking over the many 'moments in time' that we captured on film and it makes me ponder. So, what did we want to accomplish? What benchmarks did we hope to reach? I guess in my heart of hearts, I was hoping that the town and more importantly the children would see the beauty in the arts. I thought they would come to understand as I have that the arts makes life so beautiful. And sometimes art makes life bearable.

As I gaze over the many photographs that captured the beauty of the moment, I realize that I was wrong. We had accomplished what I wanted. The children had embraced the beauty of the arts through their dance, music and spoken word or painted images. We captured it in time, at the time, for the moment and for the experience.

I am proud to tell you that after 20 years, I am still amazed at the talent we have in this little community. I am still appreciative of the many volunteers who seem to find the time each year to help us give to this town the gift of the moment!

It's our birthday! We're 20 years old and still growing! No gifts, please! ...just money, so we can continue to do what we love.

Love doesn't always come easy.

My father was a beaten man.   All my life I witnessed his addictions, his anger and his abuse.  I didn’t hate him but it did make it difficult at times for me to find that bond that I know exists between children and their parents. …a bond that I have with my own child.  

When I was in high school, I realized that if I didn’t distance myself from this life of abuse and addiction that I would fall victim to it, too.  So, without consciously knowing it at the time, I slowly but surely put time and distance between us.   It wasn’t hard to do at times since my father was a lifer. A decorated military man.  He spent more than 20 years in the military traveling around the country. Sometimes with his family and sometimes without us.

I don’t remember my father sharing his childhood experiences with us.  I would hear from my Aunts and Uncles of the abuse my father received as a child at the hand of his own father.  And when I heard about those incidences, it made me wonder if that is what made him so angry all the time.  My father followed in the footsteps of his father and his abuse towards his own children was another demon he had to face.

My father was a beaten man.  I read a quote from someone recently that said the bully and the bullied  are both victims. And I think that is true. 

My father passed away today.  His struggles and his sorrows are gone. He can rest now. While my emotions have been hidden or suppressed all these years, they surfaced today with a forgiveness  that I can’t explain and heartfelt love that I can’t explain either.

I visited my father this past Christmas Day for the first time in years. I don’t know what made me go. We had not exchanged words in years.  While it was strange, it wasn’t strained. And I was so glad. My last words to him were “I love you.” 

Today I am finding comfort in having had one last chance to ‘love’ him and tell him so.