Friends & Gatherings

The holidays are over, but memories of friends and relatives still linger. Preferably warm memories; forget the unpleasant ones, unless they relate to something preventable we don’t want to happen again.

Life is unpredictable, but much is in our control. We may need the courage to say “No”, or to plan ahead for likely eventualities.

Assume that young Stubby’s restlessness or grouchiness tend to upset your other guests. Arrange beforehand with his mom that you’d like him and others to play a vigorous game outside or build a magnificent snowman—have carrot, hat and other niceties ready for them.

If someone is about to spoil the harmony of the festivities, be prepared to act quickly and request that person’s “capable help” and take him or her out of the room—you may want to ask for improvements to the cake's decoration, or get some opinion on a garment you have. People like to be asked; it conveys a sense of importance and may lift their spirits.

Who of us can truthfully say that the company of each relative or friend is equally enjoyable? Not many. There may even be one guest you’d rather celebrate without in the year ahead. If it’s a relative who is usually invited, let her know ahead of time that regretfully you’re having only a small gathering and won’t be seeing her.

Few activities lift the spirit of a group quite as much as singing does. Joyful music leads us sunward in the Triumph Song of Life. Ask one of your friends to bring an instrument and make a few copies of some favorites. Since I can’t sing, this works rather well for me—I have to urge everyone to sing louder than I do, so no one can hear me.

We are most fortunate to have friends; even just one true friend is worth our deepest gratitude.

Friendship

A friend who shared your early years,

your games, your school,

your joys, your tears,

he is indeed a kindred soul.

A friend who listens to your woes,

and understands your highs and lows,

knows truly well a real friend’s role.

A friend, who can your secret keep,

who does not run when you must weep,

reward her well with what you reap.

Without a friend this baffling earth

would be devoid of hope and mirth.

Be glad for every friend, and proud.

For friends who only drink your wine,

who gather ‘round when all is fine,

believe me, you can do without. *

Until next time,

Rosi

*  From "In Search of the Good Life"

The Joys of Volunteering

It’s one of life’s great blessings to be in a position to give rather than having to take. And it requires so little. We need not be rich, have great strength, big talent or an abundance of time. All we need is a kind, free spirit that is willing to help. Many a person is less fortunate than we are.

There are no monetary rewards of course, yet volunteering makes the soul rejoice. Aside from that, any interaction with people creates an endless variety of experiences; some of them can be quite amusing. Let me recount one that rather lacked what you might call the right spirit.

I’m on the board of managers of our condominium. There are five of us—hard-working volunteers. But once in a while someone gets on the board with a personal agenda. Aggie was one of them. She had hardly been elected when she requested $200 for supplies—paper (lots of it), stationary, pens, a stapler…. “They’re absolutely essential,” she insisted. “Otherwise I can’t be efficient and effective.” We asked her to submit an itemized list so we could mull it over.

Two weeks later she requested reimbursement for two projects she had undertaken.  One was for getting some 25 empty boxes from Safeway across the street. “We’ll need them when our office gets painted,” she pointed out. Eighty dollars for old boxes? We could have picked them up ourselves, for free.

But did she really pay someone? I asked our faithful custodian, “Max, did you get all those boxes for us?” “Yes, Ma’am,” he said. “Aggie asked me to.” “Did she pay you?” “Of course not, Ma’am; I did it during working hours,” he assured me.

The other request was for $185 for someone she had hired to test our intercom.  After much prodding she gave us the person’s name and city, a Mary Cushing in Walnut Creek. But why test the intercom? It works fine, and when it doesn’t, AT&T fixes it. Since the check was to be made out to Aggie, I decided to call all the Mary Cushings in W.C.  The fourth Mary C. knew Aggie and I cautiously proceeded, “Then you know her nice condo here in Alameda,” I said. “I don’t,” came her answer. “I’ve never been to Alameda. I know her only from work.” According to Aggie, Mary Cushing had called some 200 residents on our intercom from our various entry doors to test the system.

I wish we had asked Aggie how she defines volunteering. It might have enriched the Webster Dictionary, but probably impoverished those in need. Our president gave her two options—to resign from the board, or to answer a few questions during a full assembly. She resigned.

Too bad—no rejoicing for Aggies soul, nor money for her coffers.

Rosi

Warren Buffett's budget fix

“A balanced budget? No problem,” Warren Buffett told CNBC recently.  “You pass a law that makes any sitting members of Congress ineligible for re-election if the deficit is larger than 3% of GDP.”

Yes, we’d have a balance budget in no time! Most every politician wants to be re-elected. The problem is, Congress wouldn’t vote for it. Unless … there’s enough pressure from the public!  And that means pressure from 314 million people.

Warren Buffett has other splendid ideas, including these proposed in his 2012 Congressional Reform Act:

1. Pay and Pension. Members of Congress are to receive a salary while in office, not a life-long pension and continuing benefits. Their reward should be the very honor of serving their Country.

2. Social Security. Members of Congress will be participating in the same Social Security system they have designed for the American people. It's true, Congress has its own special deluxe system, at our expense, but I doubt that our Founding Fathers would approve of that. The Congressional retirement fund should be merged with the Social Security system. As to retirement plans, Members of Congress are at liberty to purchase their own just like other Americans.

3. Pay Raises. Congress should not be allowed to vote themselves pay raises. Their pay may be increased by the lower of CPI or 3%.

4. Healthcare. Presently, America has two healthcare systems, a deluxe system for Members of Congress, and Obama-care for the people. Since Congress is designing and voting on Obama-care, it should also participate in it, not just we, the people.

5. Same Law for all. Members of Congress will abide by the same laws as the American people, without exceptions.

Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. Our Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, who temporarily serve their country, not themselves. When their term is over, Congressmen and -women go home and back to work.

What we can do:

How can we get Congress to vote on matters that are good for the country, not just good for their personal advantage? Public pressure, says Warren Buffett. If everyone who reads this forwards it to friends and acquaintances, word will spread quickly.

Better yet, if we collect signatures, Congress will realize we mean business. Public media is another good way to start discussions and collect votes.

It is time to restore America to being the Land of the Free with Opportunity for All.

We’ve all suffered the consequences of recent laws that were motivated by unscrupulous lobbyists, selfish pork-belly deals and legislators who lost sight of America’s future. If Members of Congress have to abide by the same laws they impose upon the people, and be subject to them—such as social security and healthcare—they will give their task more thought.  

Public pressure can work miracles. In record time, Congress gave 18-year olds the right to vote—all because of public pressure. We can do it again.

So spread the word.

Pass this on.

Make it happen.

Rosi

No Computer!

Life without a computer? Unthinkable these days! We depend on it.

Here I was with two computers on my desk—a new one with a big screen, and an old one that had slowed to a crawl. But how to transfer all my files?  There are many ways of doing it, and I managed to transfer files in duplicate and triplicate. 

Being without my computer for a few days strangely reminded me of being without a toothbrush many years ago. Czech soldiers had broken down the door to our mountain cabin. They lined us up against the wall, hands above our heads, and pointed their guns at us, and searched us. 

Apparently, World War II had ended and the region was no longer German, it belonged to Czechoslovakia now. They took us down the mountain with nothing but the clothes we wore. No toothbrush, not even a handkerchief to dry our tears.

Miraculously, we managed to traverse much of Germany's Russian Sector, mostly on foot—there were no trains or buses after the war.

This was no minor feat. Mother and Maria were both in their twenties, good-looking and female. We had to avoid the open roads and  hide in the woods and fields, away from Russian soldiers. Everyone knew they were lusting for adventure.

Mother had her two children in tow, my little brother and me, always hungry and close to collapse. There was practically no food to be found. The stores were empty. Even the phone service had shut down.

We were hoping to find father. Had he survived the war? Would we find him in the city where his business was?

Late one miraculous and wonderful evening we found him! Still alive!

Our city home had been bombed, but a part of it was still standing; it totally collapsed a few months later. There was no water and no electricity. But we had a home again, and a toothbrush.

Sadly, it was not to be for long. One grim morning Russian jeeps pulled up to take father away. We did not breathe. We did not wait. We did not think. We ran! We ran as fast as we could. We never looked back. We left with what we were wearing. Again without a toothbrush and no place to go. But we were alive, and still together with father.

No computer for a few days?  Big deal, I still got my toothbrush. That little toothbrush has put the ups and downs of life nicely into perspective.

Until next time,

Rosi

What's in a Name—Different Pay?

There’s no sweeter sound than to hear one’s name! It means someone is addressing us, knows us, and is talking to us. Over the years we color our name with who we are and thus identify with it. Our name obtains meaning.

It jolts us if someone misspells or mispronounces it, or calls us by someone else’s name. There may be exceptions, though. I had an aunt who was extraordinarily beautiful and was always surrounded by countless beaus—too many to remember their names. So she called them all Peter—it was her favorite name, she told them, and she got away with it. Two of them even made the change of name legal.

It’s quite important to get people’s name right. I remember a beau who wanted to marry me, but I turned him down because he kept misspelling my name. Years later when he was between marriages he asked me a second time, and years later a third time. My friends were greatly in favor of it, he had looks, money and fame; but he still misspelled my name and I kept turning him down. I’m glad I did!  Who needs a life partner who’s so absorbed in his own world that he notices nothing else?

My grandmother chose my name after the Nun Roswitha von Gandersheim who lived a thousand years ago in Germany and is still famous today for the plays she wrote—not in Latin, as was the custom then, but in German so everyone could understand them. They were all about prostitutes! and their redemption to virtue and grace.

In the 70s I applied for a job as head of a research department. The director liked my credentials and the prospect of having to pay me only half as much as the male applicants. But something bothered him. In those days, the head of a department could not be a female! It had to be a man, after all, he had to sign research reports and letters for the company and would be receiving considerable mail.

Then it came to him. His face brightened and he turned to me, “Roswitha is a nice name, but you don’t mind if we shorten it to Ros—Mr. Ros McIntosh.

How about a man’s pay?  No way!

I nodded in stunned silence. A few months later I sent him my resignation: “Thank you for hiring me as Head of your Research Department,” it said. “But change my name and hide my gender—all for a secretary's meager wage? No thank you.”

It’s an up-hill battle for women to gain equal compensation, but then, it's just as tough for men to give up that pleasant status of male superiority.

Rosi

Line Dancing

The urge to move is inherent to all living creatures. Even the atoms gyrate—and they do it in extraordinary ways. It’s second nature for people to dance. Dancing can express joy or sadness, elegance or vigor, fulfillment or longing. If we don’t like to dance it’s often because we didn’t get a chance to learn specific dance steps at the right age. And who would want to look like a novice on the dance floor?

In our culture, women are particularly fond of dancing. They willingly teach each other and dance together. Yet, have you ever seen two men waltzing or tangoing with one another? The mere thought seems absurd; it might even raise an eyebrow. And yet, men are great dancers. What could be more spectacular than a group of floor dancers or a performance of Mikhail Baryshnikov or Rudolf Nureyev!

At most social dances, however, we find a preponderance of females. I didn’t notice when I was younger—I didn’t have time to look.

Line dancing may be a good alternative. It combines vigorous exercise with the joys of music, good company and dance. It certainly beats bicycling for an hour in a stuffy gym.

On Sunday afternoons, the Allegro Ballroom in Emeryville, CA offers a great class in Line Dancing ($3.00 for members, and $6.00 for non-members). The class is followed by ballroom dancing.

The instructor is capable and elegant Steven Louie, who instructs in impeccable English and occasionally summarizes in Chinese. He has performed, competed and instructed ballroom and line dancing for 17 years all over the SF Bay area. His students range in age from 18 to 85. He teaches by demonstration, not just in front of the class, but he alternates teaching from each side and the back of the class.

“Bring you cameras,” he told us last Sunday, “and take videos of the steps so you can practice them at home.” It’s a great idea—practice makes perfect. The video works fine on my screen, but it still doesn't play back on this blog. I'll try some more this weekend.

In the meantime, have a good one.

Rosi

The Mysteries of Human Nature

He looks disgruntled this morning, but why—I did him a big favor last night. And, look at her, she looks so happy—I wonder what she’s been up to? Wouldn’t we love to know the answer and many more!

Human nature remains a mighty mystery, in spite of the many attempts to unravel it. Neither the bumps on our head, nor the lines in our hand, nor the date of our birth have given us satisfactory insights. 
Even the art of graphology is being questioned after newspapermen misinterpreted a sheet of scribbled notes and doodles left behind at the 2005 Economic Summit meeting in Switzerland. 

They thought it belonged to Britain’s Prime Minister Tony Blair, and joyfully analyzed it. They discovered in his handwriting the doubts he felt concerning his upcoming reelection, his struggle to keep control of a confusing world, his preference for day-dreaming and his inability to complete a task as Richard Wiseman wrote in his book “59 Seconds.” They even read a death wish toward his political career into his doodles.

Can you imagine the papers’ immense embarrassment, when it turned out that the notes and doodles did not belong to the Prime Minister, but to mightily successful Bill Gates? Perhaps they should have engaged a better graphologist.

We are told that multiple bumper stickers are a good indicator of the driver’s strong feelings of territoriality—and are urged to give that car a wide berth.

I’d give the same wide berth to a person with a vicious-looking bulldog. It’s uncanny, really, how often and how much people resemble their pets, or vice versa.

A more recent approach is to assess a person on the sliding scale of five characteristics: to what extend is he or she open, conscientious, extraverted, agreeable and neurotic (i.e., emotionally stable)? It’s an amusing device, and could be useful if people were to answer all questions truthfully. 

But how often do we admit even to ourselves that we have shortcomings? Why would we admit them to others, especially if a job may depend on our answers—of course we are agreeable, and emotionally stable, and certainly most conscientious!

Do our basic characteristics change in the course of our lifetime? I doubt it. We do adapt to our environment and our circumstances, we learn and form habits, but our basic character remains pretty much the same. Though, hopefully with persistent effort we do improve.

Rosi McIntosh

Elections

Who’s going to win the next election? We won’t know for several months.

The outcome matters a lot, though often in imperceptible, unpredictable and long-range ways.

In Germany, dramatic and traumatic changes came about with Hindenburg’s election in 1932. Paul von Hindenburg, the beloved former field marshal and the second president of the young German Republic, had been persuaded to run for reelection. It was a reassuring choice for the voters. He was conservative and well known, but he was 84 and in poor health. Consequently, his advisors urged him to seek the support of Germany’s strongest party.

Whether we are 25 or 85, it’s usually quite desirable to get all the support we can get. So Hindenburg made a deal with the party— in exchange for their support, he’d take their spokesman into the Chancellery. The party was the German Nationalsozialisten; their spokesman was Adolf Hitler.

Did Hindenburg’s advisors ever take a good look at Hitler? Why weren’t they concerned about his bigoted speeches and his questionable background?

Did they know about his lack of education, his abysmal grades and dropping out of school? He stayed home with his mom, slept until noon and lived off her small pension.

Did they know about his false claim to be a student at the Vienna Academy of Art in order to get an orphan’s pension, even though the Academy had rejected him?

In the Hindenburg advisors’ defense I must admit that Hitler had kept all these unpalatable facts of his past carefully concealed. Today we know that he even had murdered those who knew—it was still the Dark Age before Google.

At the time, Hitler was known solely for his hypnotic speeches and for promising what most people desperately needed—work, bread and security. Germany was deeply in debt, the government had collapsed, and over a third of the population suffered stark unemployment and starvation. The rest is history.

More later this week.

Rosi (Roswitha) McIntosh