http://www.chinadaily.cn/china/2006-09/22/content_694556.htm
Fifteen years ago I joined the Rotary Club of San Francisco. I met many incredible humans doing good work. One of these members, Anita Stangl, and I became good friends. I was inspired by her flashy fashion sense and gregarious personality- this woman never met a stranger. She immediately made me feel part of the group.
A member of our club, Peter Lagarias, thought up this idea to do cleft palate surgery in Chile. Our club got a team of doctors, nurses and Rotarians together and changed the lives of children in Chile inflicted with the disfiguring malady.
http://www.rotaplast.org/about_us/our_history.php
I tell the story often of how proud I am of our club- more than 9,000 free surgeries. Surgery proved not to be enough for this group of do-gooders - next they started investing in research to figure out how to stop cleft in the first place.

My friend Anita, now devotes her life to this cause. She runs the organization Alliance for Smiles. (after leading Rotaplast for years)

Such an inspiring way to live a life. Years ago, when in Santiago Cuba, my husband and I befriended a young man of about 19 or 20 years old. The lad tried to pick my husband’s pocket one night while he was out having a scotch and a cigar. John held his hand and shook it. Looked at him and said, “rather than settle for what I have with me, how about becoming friends with me so that you can have access to capital when our countries finally open up to each other. You can get $50 now.. or tons later. ”
We spent the next few days with this kid. It was incredible the long talks we had. Cubans are very well educated in art and history. I can remember telling him about Rotary and what we do. I swear, he asked me about it at least 30 times over the next week. He kept trying to see what our angle was - he had learned that Americans never did anything for charity… just for money.
We talked about the cleft palate surgeries. This seemed to connect with him more than anything else. Cuba has great health care- he understood how lucky we both were to have that. I think if him today as I read this article. It is still years later and he can’t come see Rotary first hand- learn what is good about the humans who live in the behemoth country to his North.
If you have time, read her thoughts below. This makes for a long blog and SO WORTH READING. There is so much wrong in our country.. our world right now… this woman is doing her part to make it right. I am very proud to know her.

Alliance for Smiles lands in Shenyang

· 32-member team on two-week mission to China performs cleft lip and cleft palate surgeries for children in need
· Partnership with Red Cross makes mission possible
· Team brings families hope, one surgery at a time

What would you do …

… if you knew your child faced a world where he/she would have a difficult time communicating with others because they couldn’t be understood?

… if feeding your child was a challenge, if you didn’t know if their milk would go into their tummies or come out their nose?

… if your child refused to study, to go outside, to go to school because they were mocked by their classmates?

… if the problem with their cleft also created problems with their ears meaning often they heard the world under muffled tones?

… if the future happiness of your child was at risk because 15 years from now it was going to be very difficult for them to find a partner to marry?

… if you knew your child faced a world of ridicule because they looked different from their classmates?

… if you knew it was going to be difficult for your child to find a good job because school was so difficult, because communication lies at the root of human understanding?

Making a difference one child at a time

You can see it in their faces. Parents are parents in any language, any culture. They want, desperately, what is best for their children.

Without change, this isn’t going to happen. Alliance for Smiles is molding that change.

AFS is on its fifth trip to China, its second to Shenyang and changes are happening.

The premise is simple. A team of highly trained, highly experienced medical personnel travel as volunteers to areas in need providing cleft lip and cleft palate surgeries to children who otherwise could not afford the procedure. AFS has one goal and one goal only – helping children – changing lives one child at a time. This goal has a second part, to help establish treatment centers manned by trained local talent who will also take care of the children of families who couldn’t afford the procedures.

It’s an uphill battle. In Shenyang 164 children were screened in the first two days of clinics, 98 selected for surgery. The doctors cannot take care of them all. There is simply not enough time. That’s not easy to explain. It’s not a matter of adding just one more – the surgical crews work grueling schedules taking them well into the night. Still, the desperation when someone is told no breaks your heart.

A couple of their stories …

Two brothers, Xiang Bin Sun and Xiang Hai Sun arrived Tuesday. One is 9 and one 14. Both need cleft palate surgery and mom is beside herself. They are farmers. She says without Alliance for Smiles it wouldn’t, it couldn’t happen. It’s their third trip. Each of the other times they were turned away – not enough time, not enough slots. They are a full-days journey from Shenyang. The 9-year-old is in fourth grade and a good student. He does well, he studies hard, said mom.

The 14-year-old is another story. He dropped out of school in the sixth grade. The teachers couldn’t understand him, she said, he wasn’t doing well. Even mom has a hard time understanding when her own son speaks.

Family finances are a huge factor. His father needed his help, so he spends his days helping out on the family farm. Xiang Hai told his mom he wants to work hard, that way his brother can stay in school. His words don’t come quickly. He chooses carefully and speaks slowly. But mainly he smiles at the doc. They high-five, a gesture requiring no interpretation. The meaning is universal.

Plastic surgeon, Dr. Richard Siegel, smiles back.

***
Shu Hua Zhang wants for the other school children to stop laughing at her son. Bao Yu Chen is 9 and in need of a cleft lip revision. Bao Yu has dreams of his own. He wants to be a basketball player.

Their trip to Shenyang took four days, 17 hours by bus, followed by the train. His surgery is set for Wednesday. He spent Thursday and Friday in the dentist chair, an added bonus provided by Alliance for Smiles for the children and their families.

“Most of these children have never seen a dentist, and then we ask them to open up, come at them with a jack hammer, and they still think we’re OK,” said mission dentist Dr. Michael Gonda.

Bao Yu just smiled and shook his head as he promised to brush his teeth everyday.

“This little lad was so nervous the first day his ears filled with tears. And look at us now. We started with a handshake, moved to a high five and now we’re bumping knuckles,” said Gonda.

Life is hard. Money is difficult to come by. They had to borrow money to make the journey. They’re not for sure how they will pay it back. A friend in another province heard about the program, made contact and told them to come. They live by the wood factory in the mountains where her husband finds work.

The mom, Shu Hua Zhang, grows a garden to supplement their food supply. “When someone gets sick we don’t go to the doctor. There is no money,” she said. “We do not have enough money for the operation. Sometimes he does not want to go to school. He has no confidence.” She gives her son a look as only a mom can look, turns and says, “I love my son very much. I am very happy. We really appreciate Alliance for Smiles.”

****

The Chinese government recognizes the problem, but there is not enough money to create a solution. The partnership between Alliance for Smiles, the Red Cross and at other sites, The China Population Welfare Foundation, and the hosting hospital are critical to the success of the mission. Even with volunteer help, even with the working partnerships, it is very expensive for Alliance for Smiles complete each mission. Each trip costs an estimated $80,000. Taking into consideration the hospitals partnership and the volunteer expertise, the value of the services provided is in the excess of $600,000.

Because the children face a lifetime of challenges in a world, until programs can be established in China to take care of all children based on the model present in the United States, how can we say no?

For more information contact Alliance for Smiles
2565 Third Street, Suite 237
San Francisco, California 94107
www.allianceforsmiles.org
info@allianceforsmiles.org
415-647-4481
415-647-7041

“Fit the metal fitting into the buckle.” I snort at this part of the safety lecture. I am reminded of George Carlin’s Airport rant and how silly these instructions are. We are a nation surrounded by pillows and orange safety cones.
Sebastian’s first birthday is coming up. A very exciting day indeed. We decide to have the party at the cement slides in the Castro. The best way to enjoy them is with wax paper or cardboard and we did not have either. We scrambled up and down the cement swell for about an hour. Perfect place for a birthday party.
Sadly, there was no safety lecture this day. Somehow, I ended up with a concussion and road rash on the side of my face. Maybe a 40 foot slide is not the best place for a party of toddlers.
Or is this just a sign of age? My inability to act like a kid and not cause serious harm. And why is it the frozen Bean and Cheese burrito my husband bought at the liquor store to reduce the swelling did not feel cold.
It concerns me. How much our world is changing. As I held that burrito to my hamburger face I thought about Iran. I am unsure how my brain led me to that thought.. maybe it was the brain swelling. Maybe thinking about Iraq and bombs and mothers with devastating injury and harm. Feeling a mother 7472 miles from my little town, holding her son injured in all the fighting. My brain scanning all of the scary things in the world, I suppose my temporary pain placed me on a slippery slope of fear for the world.
Iranian President Ahmadinejad has repeatedly made some scary statements about Jews in Israel. One in particular, called for Israel to be “wiped off the map.” I worry about these statements. It seems there is a movement to another holocaust. Perhaps not just of Jews, but all infidels who do not believe in the same things.
All of the Bush war machine crap is perhaps making us numb to a growing movement away from acceptance and toward persecution. Is there someone standing in the aisle way clearly pointing out we are not safe and there needs to be a move toward the freedom we are all so accustomed to enjoying? Can I even write these words with out sounding like the current government who has done so much to let the world’s people down?
Heavy stuff for 5am.
My husband told me this morning that the Berlin opera house elected not to allow the Mozart’s “Idomeneo” due to Muslim protest and fear of retaliation.
“We know the consequences of the conflict over the (Muhammad) caricatures,” Deutsche Oper said in a statement. “We believe that needs to be taken very seriously and hope for your support.”
The German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, thank goodness, said today, “We must be careful that we do not increasingly shy away out of fear of violent radicals,” Merkel told the Hannover Neue Presse. “Self-censorship out of fear is not tolerable.”
I wish for every human on the planet to believe what they want to believe. Allow them the wide arms of god, their god, or lack thereof, to embrace them in their practice. (or no practice) As long as they are not hurting anyone. Martyrs are not supposed to kill innocent people- this just does not make sense.
Do I wish someone would have been at the playground to stop me from temporarily destroying my brain and my face? Yes. Is it my right as a human to make my own mistakes, especially if those mistakes are about my own salvation and any after life that might be. Yes. I do not need to be harmed, or see others be harmed, to get the lesson.
All of this fundamentalism is flashing red light and a slippery slope.. a cement slide - we need to be mindful of the freedom we give up to assuage fear and accomodation. The progressives are avoiding this discussion as it sounds too much like the Republicans. I can’t even write the word “t_rr_rist” here as I do not want to use Bush’s favorite word. We are becoming numb to the fear mongering…
This isn’t about a religion - there are incredible humans who I love with the same beliefs. This is not about politics - we are all human and those of us in the United States demand a certain level of those unalienable rights we learned about in 3rd grade. We are damn lucky.
This is about fundamentalism and using violence and force to push a belief on another. This is about our government talking so much about something that we are numb to it. This is the rest of the world wanting so much to NOT be like Bush that they are making some dreadful missteps in how they deal with this issue.
History has shown us what can happen to 6,000,000 people when we sit and ignore all the little things that happened before the trains came to pick them up. A slippery slope indeed…

A 6-hour drive. With an infant. Winding nauseous roads. A little bitching here and there. Getting ready, husband and I, for an 8-day retreat for our new business, Allegory.
We passed the Fat Quill Quilt shop, the Two-Fat Guys Restaurant and the South Park Yellow bus. Wife in backseat with baby asking every 10-minutes.. how much longer?
We get to Arcata California. A friend told us to go there- said we would like it. I look around and in such a catty way say, “Um. Why would I like this place?”
How cosmopolitan and lame of me. Husband and wife decide to give it a try. It will be great, husband says, as we come upon a green square surrounded by little shops and hippies. Hey, I went to over 100 dead shows in my youth, perhaps this is my speed. As long as no one makes me smell any Nag Champa
Our little baby was READY to get out and crawl around. One thing we had not factored in is that our baby isn’t quite walking well enough to get his energy out when we stop at parks.. the little crawler eats everything on the ground and thus he was READY to crawl. Big time.
The front desk person tells us we are in the best room: a Master Suite. We are excited. The Hotel Arcata is a Historical destination according to the plaque. Cool.
We open the door to our room and out wafts a pretty scary yucky smell. Old. Mold. Dust. Rust. The room is dark and needs some paint. The carpet is old commercial variety. The room is just weird.
Ok. I am a princess. I am used to clean. and austere when I go to hotels. I was not prepared for this room. I make a few noises about it and my sunshine hubby says, “Hey let’s make the best of it. It will be fun.”
We set up the flip chart easel and put our agenda around the room. Unpack. Set everything up. Go on a hunt for a steak. John jokes about it being a hippie town. (We passed numerous pickers hitchhiking on the freeway on the way it. (it is harvest season in humboldt.)
SOme really friendly cops give us the lay of the food land and we end up at the finest restaurant in Arcata. The steak was leather. I mean it. Really bad.
It’s ok- John says, we aren’t here for food. Let’s get to work. We walk around the sweet town with our baby. Everyone seems so detached… distant. I remind my husband that we can not assume everyone is high. That would be wrong and the opposite of what we teach.
It’s all good, a deadhead phrase, was repeated many times by hubby and I. We walk past 5 bars on the way to our hotel .. 5 bars with tons of college kids in them. Not even thinking about what that would mean in a few hours.
We settle the baby in.. we do a little work… go to sleep.
At 2am- the bars let out. For the next 2 hours we listened to loud slurring drunken people trying to figure out where the party was going to be. It was worse than pile driving. We decide we should move to the other side of the hotel.
The next morning… rummy, red-eyed….We talk to the front desk person. No apology. no, Gosh I am sorry your baby was up all night. She just said, “It is worst on Thursdays. it is like that all week.”
Now, I am thinking , we told you we were coming here for a retreat AND that we had a baby. Could you maybe have mentioned this on the phone?
There are no other rooms for us .. she hands us ear plugs and goes about her day. John and I joke in the elevator that the customer service portion of our company will be busy with folks like this.
Ok. We can live with this. It will be fine. John goes to get provisions. We realize there is no air conditioning. We also realize there is a festival or something setting up across the street from the hotel. The noise is building. (Turns out it isn’t a festival- it is like this every Saturday and Sunday)
While John is gone, I am afraid to write what happens next. There was Blue Grass music. With each song the sound system cranked up a little louder. Ok. I can handle.. as I sat typing away.
Then I heard the first few chords of a Marley song.
Hearing the first few chords of a Marley song is like being in the middle of the ocean, with a bleeding cut and hearing Da Duh Da Duh *the first few chords of the Jaws soundtrack”
John came home- full of food and good news. He stepped in the room. Heard the music.
We were packed in 7 1/2 minutes. I can handle ANYTHING but Reggae.
The drive home made it all worth it. We made several stops and created some Metaphor lessons for our teaching material.
http://www.confusionhill.com/confusionhill-attractions.htm

What we learned on Confusion Hill will be at least two chapters in our book. An incredible place if you ever have the chance to see it.
Gary Warne once said, “Disaster is an adventure you aren’t looking at right.” Arcata, California is our favorite destination - as long as we don’t actually get there!
We are so glad we made the trip and happy to be home. We have disconnected our phone and will pretend we are at a bed and breakfast. A secret hideaway in our own back yard.
Great things learned from bad experiences. The same is true of every communications interaction I have ever had. The bad ones create incredible lessons that are the fabric of this business. Our gift is metaphor- the way to create it… more road trips!!!

We drove through a tree today. We paid $5.00 to go into the forest on the way to Arcata, California

As we drove through the tree- I wanted to be there on the day they created this crazy thing. Of course, I have driven through trees before.. this was different,. I am a mom now- I had a baby to film and interact with.
We drove through it twice. Laughing all the way.. ha ha ha ha., We got out of the car and walked through it a couple of times. Then I noticed something. Everywhere around me… people were giggling. The same giggle. It is hard to explain the sound- not a chuckle.. you know, a chuckle being a very short compensatory laugh… ha ha…. not a ‘can’t breathe this is too funny’ laugh either.
Just this super long… constant string of sounds… a giggle. I watched as the passenger and the driver looked at each other. This look and this giggle.
Car after car- the same response.
Now, I wish I had been there the day they cut the hole in the tree. I am sure the environmentalist vehicle that drove through the tree, they had bumper stickers all over their car for the environment, yes - they giggled, liked to imagine that the hole was already in the tree. Had that car full of people , had they been here that day, allowed the drilling?
Perspective is often changed by history or experience. Perhaps it is ALWAYS changed by history or experience. The media used to have that. perspective. A super intelligent woman I know, Darolyn Davis, (www.Davis-pr.com) told me over a ‘big girl lunch” at the Rotunda, (this is not an exact quote, it has my perspectve in it) “The media used to provide a perspective- now it is a targeted weapon of manipulation.”
The tree reminds me of that. How easily that little drive could be shifted into something ugly or fabulous depending who is doing the typing.
This blog is like that. Human interaction is like that. If only I could get out of my head. During a meeting the other day I couldn’t help but notice all the little under the breath verbal jabs going on. Followed by a laugh of course- and yet they were passive agressive little attempts at control. Some of them were really mean.
And some of the jabs came out of my mouth. Disgusting what happens when a room isn’t facilitated or when unresolved hurt feelings get in the room.
Why is it the human element- our emotions- can be so fragile and powerful at the same time? If I could figure out a way to harness in my rabid desire to understand every human interaction I have- I would have a little more fun.
It seems that every interaction of late is a Petri Dish- the world is my communication science lab for me to mix my potions and test my theories. I watch a group of incredible people get snarled up in the miscommunication barbwire.
And I watch in horror as I go first. I am paying such close attention right now to the solution. My friend tells me I am like Jonas Salk- when I find the vaccine i will be heralded a genius but until then I am the freaky geek who keeps trying new things in rooms.
Freaky geek rhymes wih control freak. that is more like it. My frustration level - or maybe my frustration switch is close to the surface and I am trigger happy. Couple this malady with a history of unsaid hurts or misguided beliefs or just plain perspective: it will take the giggle out of any room.
I will not do that again. Remain lofty, my dear friend Andrea once said. (see earlier blog) Remain lofty Christina especially when you feel undervalued.. not heard… pissy or just plain frustrated.
I will figure out how to remain lofty when I feel unloved or attacked. I will come up witha formula for others to use when the hackles get up or when we feel that folks are not listening or understanding us.
I am human. Just like everyone else. I have my foibles- my miscommunications. There is a giant hole cut through me and I put it there. It is worth it all - just to hear someone giggle.
Months ago I coached a business associate on how to talk to his daughter. She has attempted suicide earlier in the year and the stakes were very high. It was critical he figure out a way to shift his behavior and save her. He took me aside at a fancy pants dinner and let me know it was working. That my lunch with him- my perspective- was making a difference.
Ok. It is all worth it. All of it.
Love, The Tree Hugger

met an incredible woman tonight. After a 15-minute conversation with her, I realized I my life was about to be changed.
After discussing the issues, I asked her when she decided to run for Congress. “The day I checked out of the hospital after 18-months.”
When I returned home, of course I googled her. I read this quote in an article, when asked how she came to the decision to run, “Duckworth chewed it over for two months with her husband, whom she describes as a true partner: “He annoys me. I annoy him. He chews gum with his mouth open. I leave my legs lying around on the floor.”
Damn. This woman really has it. Read the article.. read her website - what an incredible story about guts and gratitude.
I will never complain about my life again - ever.
Geez. See article below…
http://www.washingtonpost.com/

May I be blunt at the risk of sounding judgmental? It is very sad to watch the Angelides campaign. It feels to me they have been lofted several opportunities to truly spotlight his direction and abilities and he has failed to show any personality whatsoever. It really causes me to worry about the Progressive Movement and what we are doing.
We, in the progressive movement, want to be elected because we are nice people and doing right- rather than accepting the cold heart American fact: The number one restaurant in our country has the worst food. In fact, we have convinced the world that consistency is more important than quality- every McDonalds serves exactly the same quality of crap.
Doing good and doing right ? Not enough in our culture.
I watched an incredible woman speak Friday night. She is running for Congress in New York and I believe she will win. She is an excellent speaker- for a room full of politicos. For the politically minded we LOVE her. She really does have the right ideas to take us to the next level… back toward the innovative and inspiring way of being in the US.

I fear out in the brisk world of the voter- she will not be remembered. The voters need goose bumps. They need to be entertained or at least enchanted. Campaigners need to communicate to be heard-and remembered. It is that simple. I am beginning to feel that the folks running the campaigns see things through their own lens- not through the lens of the voter. It worries me.
At least Phil has a myspace account. It isn’t as spicey as my neice’s… at least it is there.

I can’t seem to find a comfortable pair of stilletos. The girls in my office have the cutest shoes… I walk in them and I am in a tunnel of hurt. Pinched toes and unsupported arch cause me to focus on my feet rather than my world.
Yesterday, I wore my clogs. I couldn’t help but notice how much more I noticed when I was not wincing with each step. Not so pretty- and much more fun. As I raced against the red countdown to get across market street, I stopped. The “Black Skinny Pant” ad annoyed me. I used to be the girl. Before baby, before my love for movies, before cream fraiche. I missed the light- that stupid advertisement caused me to miss that millisecond of opportunity to leap out before the number 7. (or was it the 66?)
I noticed that a lovely human had altered the street advertisement. Written on a sticker on top of the word “Skinny” was the word “Sickly.” I laughed out loud and applauded the person. (A few around me moved away from me slowly… sure I was about to ask for a dollar or something.) I looked again at the advertisement- in the lower left hand corner it read “I Starve for Gap.”
Nice job liberating that advertisement.
I went about my business day and ended up walking down 6th street. not the Happiest place on earth- a wee bit grungy and hostilly interactive. I noticed one of the hotels had a sign out front “Best Rates” is what it said in its hey day. It appears someone decided to liberate the E and send it to Tahitii…(Where all E’s go to rest.) The sign now read, “Best Rats”
Wow! Two in one day. I was feeling great. Communication is going on out there in the world. In a subversive way. I jumped in my car and headed over the Bay Bridge- actually thinking about the written messages I had seen. I get majorly cut off by an SUV- I tried to imagine that the person driving is he mother of 6 and late to pick up her youngest. (I do this often when cut off in traffice, i imagine the person is in the hurry to visit a dying relative or a sick friend.) The traffic on the on ramp is STOPPED DEAD as my husband says. I read her license plate frame.. it says God’s Blessin’ . I wonder,does that mean god IS blessing or God (possessive) blessing. Then I see the rear windown. The owner of the car has used individual letter stickers to match her license plate frame. What she doesn’t realize is someone has altered the letters so they no longer match the license plate frame. it sayd
God’s BS’n
Ok. This is too much. Is this some sort of sign from the univers- all these alterations in just a few hours. What is the message?
don’t take myself too seriously. lighten up.
or
do ‘ ta m e u
oh who knows. all i know is i have a comunication and company and the world seems to be my science project. We must stop worrying about what others think about what we say - let them LET THEM .. no ENCOURAGE them to make our message whatever works for them. Put it out into the world and then let it go.
Rejoice in all of it’s reincarnations…. laugh… love the sublime.
This morning i called one of my dearest friends and asked her to come over. She made a joke that she had to wash her hair and organize her sock drawer.
Funny thing was, at that very moment, I had actually dumped my sock drawer out on the bed.. and ..i …was…reorganizing it.
Life is funny already. Imagine what a screen writer with a pen and some white out could have done with that moment. yes, I encourage improvement to my message. Welcome it.

The Cell Phone. The Electronic Leash. Now, we can be found everywhere. Our long quiet drives between appointments are filled with returning calls and scheduling appointments.. or maybe just catching up with some folks we miss. Our driving meditation has been excised from our daily lives. Constant input. We are miraculously surviving in a state of constant input.
I wrote a short story once. (okay, maybe more than once) about a future America when the average mortality rate dropped substantially to an average of 46. Ten-years before a scientific study proved that television watching was indeed a form of meditation. That is was the television, not medicine and science, that was causing folks to live longer. With the high level of stress in the world- folks lived longer because they went home and ‘meditated’ every night to pulsing light for at least 3 or 4 hours. Folks were amazed about this founding and many were excited. Wow, something that is good for you and a habit too.
Things changed, almost dramatically. The parks became busier… the streets full of more people.. stoops had people in the swing after work. There seemed to be a little bit of a buzz in the air. As soon as it was discovered that TV was good for Americans- Americans stopped being interested in it. There were TV studios opening up everywhere to encourge more watching. Folks set their alarms and dragged themselves to the Birkrum TV Station to watch in a hot environment… to a 24-hour TV Station to watch when they got done with their night job and TV Boot Camps to force feed those who really needed it.
Suddenly, the average age at death plunged below 50. With out the TV Crack, that ended up being like Wheat Grass, folks got weird diseases, heart attacks and strokes from the stress of the world.
We do not have television in the house. My sister says I am missing a lot of learning by not having the glowing box. True, when I visit a hotel, i sit glued in front of the tube.
Is technology good for us? I wonder if all of this technology is destroying romance. I know a lot of people who have dialed while drunk (not a good idea) or butt dialed someone (not a good idea if they listen to a conversation you do not wish them to hear) And these examles are not what I mean.
I mean those long romantic chases. Suddenly realizing in your New York 6-story walk-up that you are in love with your husband. Throwing on a brown suede jacket on a brisk February New York day to find him… running all over town ..through the village…calling his name.. Paul… Paul… finding him.. your stuffed shirt, uptight, conservative husband in Washington Square Park, dancing around.. Barefoot in the Park. (What makes this super cute is on a past date he wouldn’t take his shoes off in the park with you. )
You fall in love again. The sunsets on your kisses.
If this were 2006, he would have dialed while drinking and interupted your romantic quest for him.. he would have reminded you why you shouldn’t be looking for him in the first place.. and you would have never known about his naked tootsies. You would have packed up your stuff, slept on the couch of a friend for a few weeks and went about your life.
Video killed the Radio Star? Nah. It never came to pass. Technology has taken a bite out of romance… and caused a few of us to wake up hung over with our head in our hands checking our cell phone call history praying we didn’t actually make that call. Only to find we called our ex 17 times in one-hour with the average call time at least 3 minutes.
There are times when verbal communication is not the right thing to do.

I am still getting the hang of this mother’s intuition thing. I can look at my son for a few seconds and just “know” something isn’t right. It isn’t a ‘visual’ thing and it always leaves me feeling like the hypochondriac mom who just likes drama in her life. The last few times it has happened I have been right on target and very glad to have taken him into Kaiser.

Thursday morning Sebastian seemed just a little bit off. I coldn’t pin point what it was and chalked it up to a poor night’s sleep. There was pile driving the night before, really, I am serious, and the clang clang of a Giger - Lovecraftian  machine building a bridge in our town. The pile drive at night so they do not stop the CalTrain during the day.
I am at the office on Thursday and I get this little tickle in the back of my neck. I can’t explain it - I just know I have to go get my son. When I get him home I change his clothes and VOILA little red bumps all over his body. I check his temperature: 101.
I take him into Kaiser and it is not the chicken pops. It is some sort of crazy virus and our doctor had already seen 6 like cases that day. She called it a ‘benign’ virus as it only brings fever and mild discomfort - in fact it is an immune-system building sickness and not to worry. It is highly contagious and we might want to stay away from kids the next 3 days.
We had tons of plans. Crap. Disinvite everyone - stop everything. Started to feel a wee bit bummed… then we remembered of course the dang book we are writing. We got excited.
We decide to make the 2nd weekend of every September “Family Quarantine Weekend” We get some movies, order a turkey and all the trimmings from Safeway delivery, and hunker down for a lovely weekend. (With a very grumpy child) ((not my husband.. the baby!))
One of my candidates has an event I am supposed to attend. I warn everyone ahead of time that I can not touch there kids while i am there. My doctor says the chance of me passing it along to adults is extremely small- yet I refuse to hug everyone. I walk around with a vessel of that germ killing alchol gel stuff and religiously slather my hands with it. (just in case I forget and shake someone hand. I did. it is very hard to not be a touchy feely person when in fact you are a touchy feely person)
It was a successful day for the blue team. The progressive movement has a candidate who has the experience and can rallly the troups. I watched an entire room ignite into a festive community because one person risked convention to do something different. To be himself. The him he was before he was a professional. The him he was before kids. Before politics.
It was cool.
I rush home to find my red-bumped bumpkin sleeping peacefully in a puppy dog suit. his hat with ears flopped over his face leaving him looking like an angel.
Fast forward a decade or so and that little puppy will be rolling his eyes as he tells his friends, “Yeah.. I gotta stay home this weekend. I got some silly rash when I rash when I was a kid and my dorky parents had to make a national holiday out of it. Ugh.”
Naysaying. I am sure there were people in the room yesterday who would have preferred the candidate stick to convention. Give me the dry boring talk.. talk to me about sidewalks and buses and let me get on with my day. As I looked around, I say people smiling at each other.. doing some toe tapping. I still see folks shy away from the weird. Look around the room to make sure everyone else thinks it is okay before enjoying what is happening. A woman stopped me in the restroom and told me how amazing my hair was. (I have no fancy cut- just bright red hair.)
Alas, I think of the White House Correspondents dinner. Have you seen it?
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-869183917758574879
It is a must. Watch the audience. At first folks are having fun- then the little p president starts looking miffed.. slowly the crowd turns into this VERY uncomfortable room. So much in fact it is uncomfortable to watch it AND SO FANTASTIC!
Red Bumps and blue states? This experience indicates to me that risk, discomfort and the sure to follow judgment are the precursors to strength and true change: in our world and with my son’s immune system.
Careful. My sickness is contagious.

I can remember the first time I encountered a CD. I was enchanted by the pretty rainbow colors on the play side of the disc. I salivated at the absolute ease in which I could play my favorite song over and over again without toil.
Yes, I had my humble music beginnings in he 8-track tape. Sitting in a 66 Dodge Dart i would dread the end of my favorite song realizing I would have to sit through 4 so-so songs to hear it again. After a summer of too hot vinyl seats and Cola-Cherry Icees, I would start to enjoy the latter songs. I can remember hearing “Hey Tonight” by Creedence Clearwater Revival (Creedence to those in the know) ((CCR to the tragically hip)) and immediately singing the opening bars of “It’s Just a Thought” (A song I acutally didn’t come to love.. just got used to) and feeling shortchanged .. incomplete.. as the DJ shifted to some other song from another band. I remember popping a Zot (remember those candies that fizzed in the middle) into my mouth and asking my brother to pop in the 8-track CCR. He smiled knowingly and we both signed as we heard the last few chords of “Hey Tonight.”
Back at the homestead I spent many an evening with my ‘portable’ pink record player playing my 45’s. Begging my brother to let me borrow the orange die cut inset that kept the 45 from wobbling around. I was always losing those darn things and my player didn’t have a permanent one. One scratch on one of my records and it was the end of the fun. The diamond needle of my player carefully navigating the groove to emit a sound… ‘oh oh big old jet airliner.. don’t carry me too far away… oh oh big old jet airliner.. cuz its here that i got to stay.” Steve Miller was god to me then.
I had a deadline today. I am a wee bit late in producing some proposals for a couple of big hitters. I just haven’t been able to figure out why I am dragging my feet in creating the pre-game that will get me in the field doing what I do. I had a glorious lunch with a couple of friends teaching them some communication techniques to sell folks on the idea of their organization. In the middle of training, I realized that we all have grooves in our communication style- not necessarily ruts - just comfortable places where we go.
I was i the same industry for nearly 23 years. Today, as my friends left my office to take what we learned back to their organizatons.. I realized that my groove is not creating the right music for me right now. The groove I am in is belching out “I can feel your heartbeat” by David Cassidy instead of “Sweet Home Alabama” by LS. Huh?
My bio years ago said that for fun I enjoyed teaching classes. It seems that perhaps I have not caught up with myself yet. Um, Christina, you are doing the training now as your day job. You get to do this for fun - yes… and now you must do the work during the day. Not after hours when you used to do it.
I used to come home and work on the training stuff - it was fun. Now I have this sweet little boy waiting for me at home.. waiting for me to pop in some music (not by 8-track, record, or even CD … by On-line Internet Radio) Tonight as we danced to “BustAMove” by Young MC I promised myself i would never bring work home again. It doesn’t belong here anymore. The fun for me is watching this little boy learn the white man’s overbite dance. Who teaches them this anyway?? He is naturally doing that weird dance.. all on his own.
A new groove- a new tune. Yum.