Just Iguanas

Photo: Vojko Kalan

Back in the day, whenever Cyndi Lauper's hit single, "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" would play, my bestest girl friends and I would crank up the radio and then gleefully drown out the chorus with our own improvisation. Cyndi would sing, "They just a' wanna/They just a'wanna..." and we would top her with "They're just iguanas/They're just iguanas..." Don't ask me why we did this . . . no doubt for the same reason we had Prince getting diptheria instead of delirious or wore our pajamas to get ice cream at midnight . . . it was silly and it made us laugh.

I've been a little short on laughter and silliness this past week or so but, thankfully, NOT short on friends. My Just Iguana friends -- one of whom was scarcely walking when that tune was in its heyday and another of whom was (dear GOD!!) not even BORN at that time -- have been rallying around to keep my spirits up. (Even the Iguana in Absentia has been doing her part. She assures me she's eating gelato and cannoli in Italy for me. You can't beat a friend like that, now can you?!)

You can tell who your real friends are . . . they're the ones who walk in with casseroles (well, in New York, they take you out to dinner . . . or buy you cupcakes from Crumbs or Magnolia. But it amounts to the same thing.) when the rest of the world walks out.

But . . . and maybe this is more important . . . no, wait, I'm pretty sure this is more important . . .okay, okay! I KNOW this is more important. (But please don't stop giving me cupcakes!) Your real friends are also the people who will keep you true to yourself. Because your real friends not only want the best for you, they expect the best from you.

So thanks to all my Just Iguana friends -- and the Iguana Men in my life, too! -- who keep me singing on key! (Uh . . . metaphorically anyway . . . )

I Have Candy

Photo: Petr Kratchovil

I have the world's coolest brother in law. Seriously. The absolute coolest. He dropped a little comment after a recent post to remind me of all the candy I already have in my pockets! Starting with my seven adorable (and adoring, come to that!) nieces and nephews AND the World's Coolest Brother-in-Law. (Now, being the World's Coolest Brother-in-Law, he was too modest to lay title to the claim himself. But I'm here to tell you: He IS the coolest!!! Hands down, bar none, don't care who your candidate may be! He's smart, kind, funny, tolerant of squirrely in-laws and he has EXCELLENT taste in the blogs he follows!)

So this is for you, Bill . . . thanks for the "glass is half full" reminder. And how appropriate that the candy in the picture is a pile of Smarties!! (Hey . . . you are what you eat!)

I Want Candy

Photo: Wesley Tyler

I'm in sort of a low-tide frame of mind this week and feel a little like that boat that's listing in the photo above. It's been . . . interesting. And I know I am NOT supposed to compare myself to others but, being human, I occasionally do. (Oh, tell the truth! You do it, too, from time to time! I'll bet Bill Gates and Warren Buffet are guilty of it every now and again...MAYBE even Oprah. . . . no wait. Not Oprah . . . yeah, probably even Oprah. Remember that Tina Turner phase she went through?)

So . . . here is what some of my Fabulous Friends have been doing recently:

• One has a new play opening next week -- and I KNOW it will be amazing.
• One is in Iran on some sort of artists exchange or symposium or some something -- sounded grand and exciting to me, anyway.
• One just hobnobbed with glitterati at a private gallery showing of some rare Picasso works.
• Two spent a week relaxing at the Hamptons home of one of Hollywood's greatest old-time movie stars (Marilyn Monroe used to babysit for his children, for crying out loud!)
• One sets sail as I write this on a cruise that will take her to England and Italy and Greece.
• One just came back from DC where she is helping to design the garden at the Supreme Court.

And I really am not jealous . . . just a little wistful, like a kid with her nose pressed against the glass window outside the candy shop. The kid knows there's candy in her future . . . I mean, she's not the Little Match Girl or some ill-fated Dickens character! She's just a girl who has tasted candy in the past but doesn't have any today. And she's a little bummed about that.

Perry the Peacock

http://www.perrythepeacock.com//


I called the folks at Simple Truths today to see what their policy might be on sharing materials like the movie attached. They told me that I could share the link with you but that I couldn't embed the actual video. (On the one hand, I am eager to try some of the things I've been reading about -- such as embedding video. On the other hand, it's not a secret that I am . . . um . . . technologically challenged, so I am secretly just the teensiest bit relieved!)

So anyway, I'm switching it up today and offering you all a little video feed because, after all, variety is the spice of life! (Also, it dovetails nicely -- no pun intended! -- with yesterday's mention of Yankee Ingenuity!) Hope you enjoy!

Other People's Dreams

Photo: Petr Kratochvil

You can't turn on a television or pick up a newspaper or listen to NPR without being deluged with experts sharing their opinions on the current state of the economy. But just in case you've been cloistered in a Tibetan monastary, here's the 411 -- to quote one of my friend Q's favorite lines from Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby: " 'There's been some bad trouble here!', Tom said excitedly." And, as is true in the book, that's something of an understatement.

On one of this morning's programs, a newscaster lambasted a financial expert for pointing out that America's greatest resource -- the productivity and creativity of her workers, or what has traditionally been called the "American work ethic" and "Yankee ingenuity" -- has NOT been compromised by the current problem. He asked that Americans keep some perspective and expressed his belief that the economy will right itself and life will go on. He said, "We haven't had a nuclear war. "

The newscaster responded by repeating every negative thing any other analyst she knew had said. I don't need to go through any of those here because we all have been steeped in them. Her goal, apparently, was to get him to recant, to join the chorus of voices telling us that the end is at hand. To his credit, he did not. He stuck to his principles and maintained that we can rise to the occasion and make it through this mess, just as we've made it through others.

But the fact that he was challenged for stating something positive got me thinking . . . and remembering how, in the wake of 9/11, our President urged us to go to the mall. (?!?!) People, I love a good shopping spree, too, but we were a nation in mourning! A nation on the brink of war! We were sad and we were frightened and we were angry. And the leader of the Free World advised us that the most appropriate response to this national crisis was a trip to the mall?! Not, mind you, the Mall in our nation's capital. That might have made some sense . . . to visit the monuments and remember the sacrifices others had made in preparation for the days ahead. No . . . we were supposed to get out our credit cards and head to TJ Maxx and JC Penney to indulge in "retail therapy." And, apparently, the fact that we are "cutting back" and using those cards in moderation now is part and parcel of the crisis.

Which raises a question for me: At what point was our value as Americans commuted from producers to consumers? When did it become irrelevant that we are a creative, ingenious people and matter more that we will rush like lemmings to purchase the latest XBox or iPod?

And why, with all the analysis that's being tossed like chum from a fishing boat -- except I think it's the sharks who are doing the fishing -- is no one saying what seems so obvious. Surely I can't be the only person who thinks that somewhere along the line our economic model made a fundamental and dangerous shift that has served the short term at the expense of the long term. No one is saying -- "Hey. Maybe an economy that's based on convincing people to buy things they don't need with money they don't have is doomed to fail. Maybe, while we straighten out this mess, we could improve on the basic model." Yeah. Maybe. Do you think?!

There's a Janis Ian song -- I think it's called Between the Lines -- which contains the lyrics: We live beyond our means/On other people's dreams/And that's succeeding . . .

There are so many of us who are smart enough to know that isn't true. Quick . . . let's tell the others!! And maybe we should start on Wall Street and Madison Avenue.

Bless the Beasts

Photo: Robert Kraft

This past Saturday, I joined some friends at a neighborhood church for a ceremony that's held each year in honor of St. Francis of Assisi -- The Blessing of the Animals. My friends have made this event an annual pilgrimmage for several years now, but it was a first for me.

The sanctuary was simple, with bare white walls and hardy, straight backed chairs -- the perfect backdrop for the purpose at hand. The pastor wore a hooded robe and a stole that was covered, ever so appropriately, with animals. He gave a beautiful homily, sharing the story of St. Francis and the Wolf of Gubbi0. (Oh, brother! I SO need a refresher course on hyperlinks!! Please be patient with me . . . I PROMISE the links are coming!) We sang hymns like All Things Bright and Beautiful.

But, of course, it was the animals themselves that were the highlight of the service. There were big dogs and little dogs, fat dogs and thin dogs, old dogs and young dogs. There were lovebirds who amused us by singing along with every hymn and a large cockatoo who flew around the pastor's head and nearly choked the man. (The pastor was utterly unfazed by this.) There were cats -- or, as my dog-loving friend insists on calling them, "heathen cats" -- who joined the line and were blessed in their turn. Each and every animal present was blessed, along with a few who were there only in spirit.

One of the most touching moments came when a tall woman with square shoulders, who carried herself with an air of great strength and dignity, presented a photo of her cat to be blessed. She murmured something to the pastor, who laid his hands on the photo and prayed quietly. Then this strong, dignified woman turned on her heel and hurried away, shoulders slumped with the weight of her grief, unsuccessfully fighting her tears. Her pain was so palpable that I cried with her.

Anyone who has loved and lost an animal understands perfectly. They share our lives and are ready, at every moment, to give us their all. They make us laugh. They teach us to relax and live in the moment. And best of all, they love us unconditionally. And by doing all that, they take us all a little closer to heaven.

The World According to Oprah

Occasionally, when my path seems especially rough, I’ll have a visit with Oprah and she’ll manage to say exactly the thing I need to hear . . . the thing that will keep me going in the right direction. In my dreams.

I mean that literally . . . in my dreams. You know, kind of like the Beatles sang in Let It Be? Except I hear words of wisdom from Oprah instead of Mother Mary. (No sacrilege intended, but I’m sure Mother Mary has her hands full what with all those appearances in potato chips and mildew patterns and what not. Listen, I happen to believe that the sacred is everywhere and that God is always speaking to us, so who am I to say aloud what I think about the Virgin Mary choosing mold as her medium? It might even make sense for her to appear in such humble terms . . . she did give birth in a stable, after all. But I can’t help feeling skeptical. So maybe that’s why Oprah speaks to me instead.)

Anyway, after a couple of especially rough weeks during which I’ve been so stressed that it feels like the back of my head is going to shoot off my body and/or that my head is floating somewhere over Cincinnati and must be reeled back again and again, Oprah and I had a quick visit in her Green Room . .. you know, just catching up. I told her what was going on, trying to be cool and light-hearted about the whole mess because Oprah is all about personal responsibility and I didn’t want to sound like I was whining. Heaven forbid. But she probably knew I was on the verge of tears. It’s not like she’s never seen a woman on the edge of hysteria, after all.

After I’d finished, Oprah looked at me thoughtfully. “Tell me something,” she said kindly. “Which one of the causes on your list did you donate to this month?”

Um, I didn’t. Give anything to charity this month. I mean, except for a small donation to a Wolf Sanctuary upstate, but nothing to the causes I try to support regularly.

The rule is (and no matter what you may have read it is NOT a secret): you focus on what you have, not on what you don’t. And you ALWAYS have something to give. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. You don’t always have to give money – in fact, it’s not the most important or valuable gift most of us have to offer. But there is a reason we’re asked to tithe 10% . . . it’s a spiritual practice that serves as a very tangible reminder of how incredibly blessed we are.

Thanks, Oprah. You always seem to know just what to say.