And I am not talking geography or land mass. I'm talking body mass. I just learned today that no state in the country is exempt from the obesity issue. And that obesity is a predictor for massive health problems. The presenter at the workshop I attended wasn't talking about no state being exempt from morbid obesity. There is not, she said, one state where the average weight is not overweight.
I'm going to be writing more about this but right now I've got to go take a brisk twenty minute walk.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
How Do They Know?
In my comings and goings around Glendale, California, I have often passed the Kabab Way restaurant on Glendale Avenue and Acacia Street, and whenever I do, it gets me wondering. Their sign boasts that you will not get heartburn from their food. Well, of course I hope not. But how can they be so sure? I once had a stomach ailment for a few weeks and just about everything I ate gave me heartburn. If I had eaten a meal at Kabab Way during that time, it probably would have given me heartburn. I'm sure there are people whose insides are far more delicate than mine, and eating their kabab would probably set them off. And if you do get heartburn from their food, what are you supposed to do? Go back to the restaurant with a doctor's note and get your money back?
Someday, I will eat at Kabab Way, just to get the answers to some of these questions. But in the meantime, it keeps my mind busy while I'm driving around.
Little Gestures Of Kindness
It's often all to easy to think - to believe - that what we do doesn't matter. The next time you (or I) start thinking that way, watch this video about a volunteer fire fighter and a pair of shoes. We matter and our little gestures of kindness matter, too.
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/mark_bezos_a_life_lesson_from_a_volunteer_firefighter.html
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/mark_bezos_a_life_lesson_from_a_volunteer_firefighter.html
Friday, May 4, 2012
Changing Sizes
They say that the world -- because of technology -- is getting smaller. Except that when someone you love with all of your heart is on the other side of it, the world is unbearably large.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
The Main Thing Is That We Keep Reading
From The Huffington Post --
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mary-walker-baron/print-books-ebooks_b_1469623.html
I recently witnessed a passionate conversation between dear friends championing the merits of the printed word over the digital word and, conversely, the merits of the digital word over the printed. Even though I love and seek impassioned discourse, I couldn't participate in the discussion because when this subject comes up, I hop right on the fence and straddle it.
As an avid reader I take pride and comfort in my library of printed works ranging from Primo Levi's The Periodic Table to Sue Grafton's methodical trek through the English alphabet. I enjoy my books. I wander from bookcase to bookcase gazing at titles. I marvel that I have read so many books and that I have so many more to read. To further complicate my fence straddling, I own a digital reader from which I frequently, well, read. I love my books. I like my digital reader.
As an author I also straddle the paper-versus-virtual fence because my novel But This Is Different is available in both printed and digital form. The format in which readers experience the speculative relationship between Amelia Earhart and Margaret Mead matters less to me than their act of entering the story's 'what if' world. On days when the digital versions outsell the printed version, I am not devastated, nor am I on days when the print version appears more popular than the digital versions. Either way, I am honored that people purchase and read the book.
The rising popularity of digital readers, according to the conversations I overhear (but in which I cannot participate because of the fence thing) is perceived by the devotees of paper as a threat to the very existence of the printed word. The defenders of paper truly care that books as we know them today not disappear. They cite a variety of observations to prove that print is more meaningful than digital.
"You don't have to stop reading when the airplane takes off or begins its descent."
"I like to underline and make notes and that's harder to do with an eReader."
"I like the feel of a book. I like to hold it and turn the pages."
"I don't have to plug in my paperback book. I can read it during long power failures."
Those are all valid points and if I were participating in the conversation I would not argue against any of them.
Devotees of the digital don't seem so impassioned. They don't seem to worry that the way they read might be putting an entire industry, an entire culture or even civilization itself out of business.
"It's convenient."
"When I go on trips I can take a lot of books with me without lugging around the actual books."
"It's fun. I read more."
Oops. I may be sliding off the fence and moving into the land of 'As Long As We Read It Doesn't Matter How We Do It.'
While I'm still straddling the matter, though, I will share some observations. My first observation: Guests in my home will know because of the books I display that, while I am not Catholic, I am a person of catholic interests. They will also know that I am a lover of the written word and hopefully will take the next step and presume that I am also a reader of the written word. My second observation: When I am a guest in a home, I can browse the books and better know the person I visit. My third observation: If it's the middle of the night and I want to delve deeper than a quick internet search into any given topic, I can have immediate access to thousands of books in digital form. My fourth observation: My home can contain a finite number of books and bookcases. Unless I rent or buy a second home just for my books, there can only be a set number of books in my home that I have yet to read. With my digital reader I can own a practically unlimited number of unread books and thus feel even more overwhelmed with the knowledge that I can never in my lifetime read everything of interest than is my current dilemma with my library of printed books. My fifth and final (at least for now) observation: Hearkening back to my first observation, by our libraries are we known. Our digital reading provides invisibility and with invisibility can come anonymity and isolation. Isolation and anonymity concern me because neither taken to extreme speaks to wellbeing.
With this writing I have abandoned the digital versus print fence to claim residence in the land of 'As Long As We Read It Doesn't Matter How We Do It' with only one caveat. For the sake of our own and for the sake of all critical thinking, caring communities, let's keep talking with passion about what we read. Let's agree, disagree, and challenge but let's keep the discussions alive. By so doing we contribute to our own survival.
Come to think of it, let's also keep the digital versus print debate going and hope that the issue is never resolved. After all, it's the conversation and not the outcome that matters. It's the reading and not the format that defines who we are individually and collectively.
by Mary Walker Baron
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mary-walker-baron/print-books-ebooks_b_1469623.html
I recently witnessed a passionate conversation between dear friends championing the merits of the printed word over the digital word and, conversely, the merits of the digital word over the printed. Even though I love and seek impassioned discourse, I couldn't participate in the discussion because when this subject comes up, I hop right on the fence and straddle it.
As an avid reader I take pride and comfort in my library of printed works ranging from Primo Levi's The Periodic Table to Sue Grafton's methodical trek through the English alphabet. I enjoy my books. I wander from bookcase to bookcase gazing at titles. I marvel that I have read so many books and that I have so many more to read. To further complicate my fence straddling, I own a digital reader from which I frequently, well, read. I love my books. I like my digital reader.
As an author I also straddle the paper-versus-virtual fence because my novel But This Is Different is available in both printed and digital form. The format in which readers experience the speculative relationship between Amelia Earhart and Margaret Mead matters less to me than their act of entering the story's 'what if' world. On days when the digital versions outsell the printed version, I am not devastated, nor am I on days when the print version appears more popular than the digital versions. Either way, I am honored that people purchase and read the book.
The rising popularity of digital readers, according to the conversations I overhear (but in which I cannot participate because of the fence thing) is perceived by the devotees of paper as a threat to the very existence of the printed word. The defenders of paper truly care that books as we know them today not disappear. They cite a variety of observations to prove that print is more meaningful than digital.
"You don't have to stop reading when the airplane takes off or begins its descent."
"I like to underline and make notes and that's harder to do with an eReader."
"I like the feel of a book. I like to hold it and turn the pages."
"I don't have to plug in my paperback book. I can read it during long power failures."
Those are all valid points and if I were participating in the conversation I would not argue against any of them.
Devotees of the digital don't seem so impassioned. They don't seem to worry that the way they read might be putting an entire industry, an entire culture or even civilization itself out of business.
"It's convenient."
"When I go on trips I can take a lot of books with me without lugging around the actual books."
"It's fun. I read more."
Oops. I may be sliding off the fence and moving into the land of 'As Long As We Read It Doesn't Matter How We Do It.'
While I'm still straddling the matter, though, I will share some observations. My first observation: Guests in my home will know because of the books I display that, while I am not Catholic, I am a person of catholic interests. They will also know that I am a lover of the written word and hopefully will take the next step and presume that I am also a reader of the written word. My second observation: When I am a guest in a home, I can browse the books and better know the person I visit. My third observation: If it's the middle of the night and I want to delve deeper than a quick internet search into any given topic, I can have immediate access to thousands of books in digital form. My fourth observation: My home can contain a finite number of books and bookcases. Unless I rent or buy a second home just for my books, there can only be a set number of books in my home that I have yet to read. With my digital reader I can own a practically unlimited number of unread books and thus feel even more overwhelmed with the knowledge that I can never in my lifetime read everything of interest than is my current dilemma with my library of printed books. My fifth and final (at least for now) observation: Hearkening back to my first observation, by our libraries are we known. Our digital reading provides invisibility and with invisibility can come anonymity and isolation. Isolation and anonymity concern me because neither taken to extreme speaks to wellbeing.
With this writing I have abandoned the digital versus print fence to claim residence in the land of 'As Long As We Read It Doesn't Matter How We Do It' with only one caveat. For the sake of our own and for the sake of all critical thinking, caring communities, let's keep talking with passion about what we read. Let's agree, disagree, and challenge but let's keep the discussions alive. By so doing we contribute to our own survival.
Come to think of it, let's also keep the digital versus print debate going and hope that the issue is never resolved. After all, it's the conversation and not the outcome that matters. It's the reading and not the format that defines who we are individually and collectively.
by Mary Walker Baron
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Mood Ring Puppy
She said that her dog had been getting sick lately. So sick, she said, that the dog had required several visits to the vet. She also spoke of her own family stresses. Her husband recently received a promotion which involved not only higher pay but longer hours. "It's a good thing," she said. "Except that he comes home late and too tired to do anything around the house." She added that they had been fighting on and off over the past several weeks. "Nothing like we're getting a divorce but we have been yelling at each other. And I feel angry much of the time." Then she began putting the pieces together. The dog had started getting sick shortly after the husband's promotion and the beginning of the fights. "Oh, my! Our stress is making our dog sick." It was then -- because of the dog -- that they decided to incorporate immediate stress reduction into their lives. "We stopped shouting and started talking. We played soothing music. We spoke gently to each other." The dog got better. In fact, there hasn't been a vet visit for some time. "The dog is healthier and we are so much happier," she concluded.
We visit our moods onto our dogs. When we practice healthier emotional habits we're not the only beneficiaries. And, as the now far less stressed woman concluded, if we can't do it for ourselves, we can certainly give stress reduction a try for our dogs.
We visit our moods onto our dogs. When we practice healthier emotional habits we're not the only beneficiaries. And, as the now far less stressed woman concluded, if we can't do it for ourselves, we can certainly give stress reduction a try for our dogs.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Stopping Time At Social Security
Time really does stand still when you're in the Social Security office. I know this for a fact because I entered the crowded Ellis Island like room at 12:15 and, after going through a metal detector, noticed right away that the big clock on the wall had stopped at 8:40 either morning or evening on some day or other. For the two hours I sat waiting to beg for a replacement social security card because I had put mine years ago in a now forgotten safe place the hands on the clock did not move nor did anyone even seem interested in getting them moving.
When time stands still at the Social Security office no one cares, apparently.
I waited two hours. Toward the end of my wait the security guards cautioned people just entering the large and completely not an empty chair crowded waiting room that the wait would be at least three hours. What the security guards didn't mention was that the office closed at 3:30 so there wasn't a prayer of a chance that someone entering at 2:00 would ever make it up the line to talk to anyone except the security guard.
I should mention that my number was 53. When the next number was 12 a woman just entering asked someone to shout out that she was in the restroom should her number be called. Her number was 87 and unless she was planning on performing a major organ transplant on herself in the restroom there was little chance 87 would be called that day.
Finally it was announced that anyone waiting to ask for a replacement card should line up at window 7 and I was first -- you better believe me -- in that line. The woman who helped me was charming, efficient, and polite. Come to find out we share the same birthday.
Her mood, the way she treated me, and that she took the time to share with me our common date of birth made the wait seem like nothing.
And that, my friends, is the power we have when we choose positive energy.
Go for it.
When time stands still at the Social Security office no one cares, apparently.
I waited two hours. Toward the end of my wait the security guards cautioned people just entering the large and completely not an empty chair crowded waiting room that the wait would be at least three hours. What the security guards didn't mention was that the office closed at 3:30 so there wasn't a prayer of a chance that someone entering at 2:00 would ever make it up the line to talk to anyone except the security guard.
I should mention that my number was 53. When the next number was 12 a woman just entering asked someone to shout out that she was in the restroom should her number be called. Her number was 87 and unless she was planning on performing a major organ transplant on herself in the restroom there was little chance 87 would be called that day.
Finally it was announced that anyone waiting to ask for a replacement card should line up at window 7 and I was first -- you better believe me -- in that line. The woman who helped me was charming, efficient, and polite. Come to find out we share the same birthday.
Her mood, the way she treated me, and that she took the time to share with me our common date of birth made the wait seem like nothing.
And that, my friends, is the power we have when we choose positive energy.
Go for it.
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