Benches and Neighbors

The Bench

Every day, we passed it by. All of us.

On the way to the pool. To walk our dog. To play with our children. In hindsight, we may not have given it the attention it deserved. The respect it had earned. But, it was there for us.

The bench. A child near it. That’s all it really took to get the others outside. Then, the games would start. Volleyball. Soccer. Wiffleball. Football. Simon Says. Mom says come home.

Children jumped from it, mostly. Onto the soft green grass below. Or, rested their skateboards against its side. Admittedly, the adults were the ones who actually sat on it most. Watching their children. Catching up. Getting advice. Did you hear this? Did you hear that?

If you listened, you could hear from the bench. The sounds of a piano, guitar and even a cello. Vacuums and an occasional bark. Did we really appreciate it at all? Did we need to? Come on, it was only a bench.

We avoided it at times. Late at night, a group of strange teenagers wearing all black, cigarettes burning. Turn your head. Did they really have the right to choke it, to chill on our bench?

It stood strong, at first. Made of concrete. It listed and crumbled. Gone. Replaced by a sturdier, more handsome iron. The grass surrounding it exchanged for drought-resistant landscaping.

It unknowingly, perhaps, but willingly participated in our rituals. On Labor Day, the entire street gathered around it, squeezing and crowding with barbeques and lawnchairs. We valued that day. Could the bench have known? It stood steady. Unwavering. 

On the first day of school, every child met at its side, cameras poised. Rows of smiling. Shiny new backpacks ready to face a new year. The bench seemed to grin as well. Twenty. Fifteen. Ten. Six. Four. One by one, the children were gone. High school. College. Paris. New York. Scholarships to accept. Landscapes to view, far away from the comfort of the bench.

This year, one child sat alone. A lone little girl. Enough room for her backpack and lunchbox by her side. She smiles. Click. She doesn’t feel alone. She, after all, is not. She is with her bench. Our bench. Strong and resistant. Ready to face the world.

One bench, under the sycamore shade. 

Appreciated by us all.


That's is...from the juncture of appreciating benches and the communities they help build.

Little Miracles and Everyday Life

In reading, Peggy Noonan's John Paul The Great, I was struck by the number of times prior to becoming Pope that others had premonitions that he would be.  Especially amazing was the young child who, when hearing him announced as the new Cardinal, blurted out in a crowd that he would now be pope.  While everyone laughed, he walked up to her and kissed her.  Out of the mouths of babes.

This got me thinking about the little miracles in our own everyday lives that we sometimes meet, but oftentimes don't.  Mainly because we simply don't pay attention.  Everyone has them.  One time, during college, I drove with a girlfriend through the town of Berkeley.  We passed by an decrepit old building  on the corner of Oxford and Hearst, directly across from campus.  A little old lady was outside the building selling junk, mainly dead plants.  As we drove past, I said to my friend.  With my luck, I will probably end up living there after college.  Not less than a year later, I did.  I moved a two hour drive away and ended up in that very same building.  That little old lady became my neighbor.  My mother would often visit and give her money for the dead plants.

Another time, while working in the Bay Area, a work colleague said to me.  "You should look into moving to Orange County and live in Irvine.  It's very nice.  I think you would like it.  Allergan is a good company, you should check it out."  At the time, I wasn't even considering moving to Southern California. And, where did I move just a few short years later?  And, where did I work?

My neighbor, from early on in her childhood always said that when she grew up she wanted a daughter named Jessica and a son name John. She ended up not being able to have children of her own.  But, when she went to the adoption center and selected the one boy to adopt, even though the staff there encouraged her to select more than one in case the adoption didn't go through, she said, "No.  That's him."  His name, she then found out, was John.  Two years later, a woman knocked on her door and asked if she could take care of her granddaughter for the afternoon.  Even though my friend had never met nor seen either the woman or the child before, she couldn't refuse.  The woman never returned and my neighbor ended up adopting the 5 year old.  Her name was already Jessica.

God speaks to us in many ways.  Sometimes we ourselves know in a mystical sort of way.  Oftentimes, others have the foresight that we may lack.  It may come to us through their voice.  Or through prayer.   Sometimes it comes directly to our door.  It is our job to listen.  To open the door.  And to pray that we recognize it when we see it.

That's it...from the juncture of our miraculous and everyday lives.

Overdressing at the Beach

Don't get me wrong.  I love my brother-in-law.  He is the most positive, energetic guy I have ever met.  And generous.  He lives by what he calls - The 7 Rules.  Some are just plain smart -  "Tip High, Early".  Some make life more interesting. "Talk to Everyone".  He's right.  Every single person has something to say that you don't already know.  Hear their story.  And no matter where you are, "Act Like You Belong."   Needless to say, he is a very well-connected and personable guy.

I thought one of his Rules was one I would adopt -  until I saw it implemented in, what at first glance, seemed to be absolutely the wrong venue.  That Rule is "Always Overdress".  I like it.  A lot.  It works for getting better treatment at Nordstrom's.  Might help you get an upgrade from United.  Make you look classy.  And, it may even make you feel better.  But, it seems my brother-in-law has taken this particular Rule to the extreme.  Whenever he is out, he is always wearing a suit, tie or sport coat.  Did I mention always?

One of the things we do annually is a New Year's Eve trip as a family.  We like Cabo.  Now, Flora Farms, amazing restaurant by the way, would be perfect for a light sport coat.  So would attending Mass in the square.  Or, maybe even Happy Hour in the hotel lobby.  But a walk on the beach?  Well, let's just say, someone is a little too Rule driven!

But, everything has a purpose and a reason, in this case even under the sun.  Wear a sport coat to a beach hotel, ask the security pool guard about himself and walk in like you own the place.  No one will question the color of your hotel wristband.  In fact, they may not even see it.  So, a walk along the beach at sunset wearing a sport coat may just turn into the best decision ever.  It's now Happy Hour with nachos and drinks at the all-inclusive resort of your choice along the way!  Just make sure to tip high and early.

The guy is brilliant.  And looks great.

That's it...from the juncture of looking smart (and feeling pretty happy) on the sand.

Male Speedos and This World

It's not always easy to find things in life that should never intersect.  There are those 7 degrees of separation and all.  Besides, life would be ultimately dull if things that really weren't supposed to meet never did.  See most Match dates, for example.

But, there are two things that really should never have met.  Male Speedos and this world.  True, a well-shaved, well-oiled swimmer dawning this teeny weeny apparel could arguable go a little faster in the water.  But, now, there is the body suit.  You know, the one that was so controversial in competitive swimming a few years back.  Come on people!  Who really cares about fairness.  It's NOT a Speedo!!!  And, that's a good thing.  The body suit has my vote, hands down.

A Speedo can cause extreme embarrassment for both the wearer and the looky-loo.  There's a guy I know who used to walk home from the pool across his college grounds wearing a Speedo and carrying only a towel.  He was from another country (maybe even another world), not realizing this was largely inappropriate and perhaps the funniest thing ever to happen on campus!  We need to protect innocent foreigners from future follies.

No offense, of course, to the hard working people at the Speedo company.  Thankfully, you can happily go back to designing next years' female suit models and even throw in some protective fabrics for the UV-conscious. Just remember, some girls still love to get tans of stars and stripes under their suit - there's still a market for that.  That's interesting.  Maybe even fun and useful.  Male Speedo's...not so much.

So, here is my suggestion.  Stop manufacturing the skimpy, male Speedo.  There are plenty of other places to get entertainment these days.  Harlem Shake.  Hugh Jackman.  Heck, even Honey Boo Boo.

That's it from the juncture of far too much information and this world.

Pretty Women and Things that are Meant to Be

Some things are meant to be.  I like to think that all are.  But then there's that occasional thing - like a tsunami that kills hundreds of thousands a people.  Really?  But, I still try to believe.

Some things are meant to meet.  Like Pop Tarts.  And me.  Given.

Some things aren't.  Like lace tops and baseball.  (Note to self, the lace sticks to the velcro on the glove...ugh!)


This blog is meant to be.  I'm thinking it must be.  Because I recently lost my job and I need something to do, else go insane.  Besides, I met a psychic and she said that I was in healthcare.  Check.  She didn't see me doing it for long.  Ummm...check.  And that I would be a writer.  Does a blog count?  If yes, I am so getting the winning lotto numbers from her.  Very worth the $35 investment.

So, I will blog.  Do you get paid for this?  Like six figures?

For your benefit, I actually gave a little thought to the blog topic.  You're welcome.  I thought about writing a blog about the funny things that happen living in a planned community.  Total bore.  How about an entrepreneurial mom forced back into corporate America.  Crowded space, nope.  So...here I am.  Blogging about things that should, or shouldn't meet.  It's broad.  It might be boring, but I will do my best not to be.  And, come on, are there possibly any two things that may not fit within this topic?  See...it's awesome!  I am a genius.  Why did I lose my job again?  As Julia Roberts once said, "Big Mistake".  And, in the interest of not losing future readers, I promise never, ever...ever to quote Julia Roberts again!

That's it...at the Juncture of Pretty Women and things that are meant to be.