P.J. Colando's Blog, page 6

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

We – the majority of Americans who voted last week, not me, myself, or I –  just elected a guy who’s fine with

the climate crisis and increasingly drastic swirls of weather,children and teachers getting shot in school, with no Department of Education to reinforce a tenant of free education for all,disengaging from NATO and partying with Putin to leave Ukraine in the lurch, and,generally doing anything and everything for his gain and benefit, to hell with others.

We – the citizens of our household disagree and worry about the past, in which his nefarious acts will be pardoned and expunged; the present, in which fear will increase among immigrants and other groups marginalized by the thugs, and the future with portended higher prices for imported goods due to tariffs as well as the loss of rights of the many unfavored by the regime.

Perhaps nothing will change. Our fears for our democracy may not come to fruition because his pattern has been to loudly complain, lie, and not provide solutions or figure stuff out. Who knows how long the egos of Trump, Musk, and RFK, Jr. can mesh? Whose influence will prevail – which Steve, Bannon or Miller? Most of all, we think Donold doesn’t care: He wants applause and credit, not responsibility. His fear of failure disallows that.

No matter what this portends – the celebrated Thanksgiving feast could be filled with tension as families deal with election-spawned conflicts.

What topics are hot? What are not? What are off limits, and what rules of decorum will be obeyed? Whether we like it or not, it’s a re-do of 2016.

Who among your friends, family, and acquaintances share your beliefs and/or can agree to disagree? Time to take inventory. This issue can not slide. Who fills your heart with love, your mind with peace, and your soul with thanks?

 

Who are you inviting to dinner, Constant Reader Peeps?

Election Day

My husband and I will awaken before dawn on our national election day. Our lives will improve in a couple of ways, for better rather than worse we pray.

an ENT/surgeon will remove the two amorphous growths on my parathyroid, alleviating a long-standing issue with elevated calcium levels in my blood. The procedure is also anticipated to reduce the involuntary muscle spasms I’ve experienced for nearly four years. BTW, I asked tongue-in-cheek for a neck lift, but all the surgeon promised was a small incision with only a tiny scar.The endless polls, predictions, rallies, and rancor will end. That is if Donold accepts the defeat that I hope comes. For the sake of democracy and all of us, the incoherent wannabe autocrat must not get his clutches on our country. Please and thanks.

I voted absentee again. So, it’s likely my vote hasn’t been counted yet. Hopefully, it will be counted by the time my incision heals and I raise my head high, proud to be an American.

Proud to be a voter on the correct side where citizens are willing to abandon stances. A Patriot who isn’t into ‘tit for tat’.

Humpty Dumpty’s head is whole, and his heart is in the right place. A place that celebrates the land of the free and the home of the brave. A place where a robust economy is celebrated rather than decried. A utopian haven in which all are equal – at least in the eyes of their Maker.

One man, one vote is our country’s premise, and that’s what makes us equal. In my point of view, one hasn’t earned the right to bitch about one’s country if he/she hasn’t voted.

If you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.

So many platitudes, so much time… to digest and decide.

That’s what I did before I decided to have the surgery. After several years of contemplation, and several medical opinions sought, I hope to maximize the outcome.

May all be well with me – and my country.

Yes, what a fine country we share. I extend my arms to hug our ideals and peaceful intentions.  I believe the noise will diminish and we will return to enjoying our liberty, including the freedom to be very grateful.

News Caboose

So, on Thursday, October 24, I endured a lumbar spinal puncture ordered by my specialty neurologist, who’s in the hunt for a diagnosis for my intermittent muscle spasms/joint jerks. For nearly four years, this disturbing condition has ruled my life to varying degrees. I’ve found a comfort level with a small crew of medical practitioners who care, but still I wish this plague would vanish. Poof! Begone!

The procedure didn’t hurt because I was sedated, but the attending doc’s words did: “The purpose of this procedure is to rule out Stiff Person’s Syndrome like Celine Dion has.” I didn’t have time to process it because he continued reciting the entire litany of things that could go wrong. Holy crap there was no time to halt the train – holy crap!

I’d never heard this potential diagnosis applied to my issue before and I was freaked, frightened beyond reason. Sadly, the communication mode is confined to online. MyChart is the only method I had to let the neurologist know of my concern. I posted messages several times and spent the weekend trying to tread water and not succumb to terror. I didn’t hear from the specialty neurologist or five days… and her only reassurance was that the test results on the 15 cc. of spinal fluid hadn’t yet been processed.

Being the News Caboose in my illness’s diagnosis ain’t great. The irony of this being the holiday of tricks and treats is not lost on me.

This reflects my family of origin life, always the last to know. Out of the loop and redacted as an invisible sibling? I lament being the ‘News Caboose’ – does it happen to you in your family dynamic, too?

Thank goodness for my local circle of support, my chosen sisters, and my Bible Study group. They are praying, beseeching the Lord to rid me of the condition – and the dreaded diagnosis. The Bunco Babes, too. And my terrific husband and adorable dog.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0C58ttB2-Qg

 

 

 

 

Main Character or Protagonist

While you, Young Writer, may think the terms ‘main character’ and ‘protagonist’ are interchangeable and functionally the same, they are not. That’s what I believed until recently. I’ll help you change your understanding with distinctions I learned.

Main Characters are often narrators.

In two of my favorite books – and among the classics of literature–The Great Gatsby and To Kill a Mockingbird,  the main characters are also narrators. But in-story narrators aren’t always the story’s main characters.

Consider the tales of Sherlock Holmes. Dr. Watson is the narrator, but one could argue that he is not the main character because the actions of Holmes do not impact him; he is merely an observer. Carraway and Scout, on the other hand, are both impacted by the actions of Gatsby and Finch, respectively.

Who is driving the story forward?

The protagonist is the central character whose actions and decisions propel the plot. Identify the individual who takes charge, influencing the course of events.

Who is undergoing the most change?

The protagonist experiences growth and transformation as part of their character arc. Look for a character who undergoes significant development, faces challenges and evolves..

Who is the reader rooting for?

The protagonist is the leading character with whom the audience emotionally invests. Identify the individual for whom readers feel a sense of connection and empathy.

Tips for writing a strong protagonistThe protagonist must have a central roleGive your protagonist a clear goal or motivationPut your protagonist through challenges and obstaclesAllow your protagonist to grow and change. The hallmark of a memorable protagonist is their ability to evolve. Whether it’s a change in perspective, values, or capabilities, let your protagonist undergo a transformative journey. This growth creates a satisfying arc for the audience and ensures a dynamic, multi-dimensional character.

While the main character provides a narrative anchor, the protagonist drives the story’s momentum while facing challenges and evolving. Think about your story goal and what you want to convey through your writing. Recognizing the unique qualities of each role will allow you to create characters that resonate with audiences, adding depth and complexity to the storytelling experience, and perhaps allowing you to subvert character archetypes through a unique narrative approach.

What do you think of this tutorial?

 

 

Life as a Miracle: My Team

I haven’t written a blog post tribute to miracles in my life in ages. That’s because I haven’t been feeling it. Too many aches, pains, and complaints. Too much tainted, foul air due to the tedium of rancorous politics. And, the personal worst: my muscle spasms/joint jerks still plague me.

Thank goodness my brain has an overload of endorphins to combat the evil that’s within and without.

I love making people laugh; it’s better than pity.

But that’s what my life circumstances have evoked when I cite the litany of diagnostic procedures I endured: two EEGs, a complete set of head-to-tailbone spinal MRIs (four), dueling opinions of three neurologists, a lumbar spinal puncture. The worst predicament (besides the spasm/jerks) is the inability to secure an appointment for a coveted test until June 2025.

The list I recite to people who ask could be set to the tune of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” (which are near.) Click the blue link to listen to the cheer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwIv0xTDlcY

It’s been a siege of nearly four years, and there’s been little abatement. Along the way, there’s been a medication with great promise prescribed… that didn’t help ameliorate my issue and dashed my hopes. It was hard to rally after that one.

I guess I should consider it a miracle that the amplitude and frequency have reduced. That is, the involuntary muscle spasms/joint jerks have receded to nighttime, seldom to be seen and evoke the dreaded pity during the day. It was a miracle that the early embarrassment of big jerks and spasms was during our Covid Stay-cation.Another miracle is that an army of prayer warriors are willing to intercede and my physicians all care.

Further, I have a doting husband and dog in my corner. I am blessed.

Their love and support feed my soul and help me stay out of the depths of despair. Laughter is the best medicine.

Mistakes I Made between 7:00 and 7:45

I most often awaken, without an alarm, at 6:30 a.m. It’s tougher to achieve while it’s still dark, while the turning world jams winter whether we like it or not. I made it today with the help of a dog who wanted to be fed. To be awakened by licks on my face isn’t a bad way to go. We love our dog – he’s a cool dood.

But he’s lucky I put the correct ingredients – and their amounts for his best health – when he pushes his appetite on me before I’ve had coffee.

Each day is a struggle to sweeten my coffee with precision. I use Agave Syrup but seldom achieve the right dose, so adjustments consume up to five minutes. A time waste for someone in need of the caffeine jolt to think.

Coffee down my throat, dog fed, I see my husband off to the gym by 7:00. Then I make the first mistake of the day: I log onto Facebook… and remain there until 7:45. An hour gets frittered away.

After I consume the mug of coffee, I move on to tea. There’s seldom an error when making my preferred daily tea with the healthy green and a sweet & spicy tea bug. By now I’ve swallowed my morning dozen pills that make my aging body run as optimally as possible.

I realize I’m citing first-world problems, which leads me to the final error I’ll confess: taking my good fortune for granted. I am dazzled by life’s generosity. It isn’t an allegory, it’s just a gift, a premium of being born an American.

What about you?

Junk Mail

“If it weren’t for junk mail, we wouldn’t get mail.”

This is my husband’s complaint. Now that we’re older, he says we are no longer relevant to most merchants. Ha! Apparently I am. Especially when I order online rather than travel to the mall. I receive a half-dozen emails daily, urging me to shop for this and that and sundry, mostly clothing. When I already have two closets full.

As we near Christmas. we got catalogs from museum gift shops and low-brow vendors. We get a catalog that supports public television, too. I love this one because of its offbeat delights. Uncommon Goods is another with unusual offerings – most often hand-crafted treats made in the USA.

Penney’s and Sears have filed for bankruptcy, so their catalogs are defunct, but I rely on Lands End for bathing suits and tee shirts still made with pima cotton. My husband gets several niche clothing catalogs as well. Who’s he kidding that we don’t get junk mail?

Friday’s trash pickup is welcome because our junk mail gets taken away.

Saturday, of course, is powered by junk mail, especially politicians hoping to influence votes. Thank goodness the national election is only four weeks away.

Resilient

A famous writer wrote a screenplay for me, about me. It’s an extraordinary compliment, but I didn’t recognize the gesture until he told me long after I read it. I was busily helping cast the movie, suggesting women from Amy Schummer to Annette Benning to play the leading lady. Wowow! I was both bewildered and beside myself with glee!

You see, the protagonist in the play is a bag lady…

When my husband and I questioned him why me.., J said, “She’s resilient.”

He nailed it! I am resilient.

That he knew me enough to know my core values and behaviors is the compliment. He cares about me, a second compliment, perhaps more than I do myself.  J is intuitive and empathic. He listens beyond the words said. He knows the attitude, he knows the gist, he understands because he cares.

I have others who care deeply and love me no matter what. The first, foremost, and favorite is my husband extraordinaire. This photo of us says much-

 

 

 

 

Then there’s this one about whom I wrote a blog post in 2018- https://www.pjcolando.com/?s=Life+as+a+Miracle%3A+Sista+Suzi

There are other chosen sisters, people who tell me that I’m special. Their positive feedback feeds my resilience. I am blessed.

Finally, a couple of genetic sisters who misbehave and consistently mistreat me. It’s tragic, but my override of their blasphemous bullying throughout the years has contributed strongly to my resilience.

Albeit their curse, I’m still standing tall. I am stalwart, resilient, and true to myself because an abundant number of human beings love me.

I also have a dog that sparks joy in my life. Every day feels like Christmas for our family!

Here’s another ‘blast from the past- https://www.pjcolando.com/?s=Stalwart

My Dad was a Cheapskate

My Dad was a cheapskate. He was more than thrifty. “It’s his way, my mother would say to excuse his perniciousness which hurt me and curbed my enthusiasm for events and opportunities, field trips as a child. In my parents’ defense, he was the sole breadwinner, a public school employee, an institution with salaries renowned for being lower than in private industry. To their credit, they also established college funds for each of the four children.

Cheapskate is a very informal word always used negatively, always an insult.

Because my dad grew up on a farm during the Depression, that’s not the source of his thriftiness. The family thrived on its huge vegetable garden and my grandmother kept chickens so they ate chicken and enjoyed farm-fresh eggs. There was a dairy cow for milk and pigs to be butchered for bacon. A life of contentment and relative luxury while most people suffered through food kitchen lines.

My mother’s parents were school administrators during that Depression, so they, too, were always paid.

It was a control thing, me thinks. He famously didn’t allow my mother to work outside the home, despite her college degree. He made the money so he could mandate how it was spent. Miserly like Scrooge, he was stingy. He once won a beautiful blue Schwinn, perfect for me to ride to the country store or a friend’s house. But – no! The bicycle rusted away in a storage unit, not winning anyone anything.

Perhaps a wee bit narcissistic, perhaps a bit possessive of what he had earned.

Nevertheless, he was a jolly man, quick to quip and laugh. From him, I inherited freckles and a give for limericks and puns.

I cherish my sense of humor, inherited from my dad. My musicality… I could go on and on.

FaceTime is not for Me

I love the telephone; it can be so intimate. The voice carries so much humanity, even the silent pauses speak… Its communication facility keeps our loved ones who live in Elsewhere, USA, near and dear.

But I’m not too fond of FaceTime.

It’s a quirk of mine. Make-up, hairdo, and being dressed appropriately are involved. Sometimes our Midwestern friends and relatives forget the time zone difference. Note to them: because I’m a retiree with no particular place to go at 7:00 a.m., I’m likely to be dressed in my pajamas with uncombed hair and an unwashed face. I’m unnerved, not ready, etc. – especially because my morning caffeine intake hasn’t kicked in to fuel my abilities to think and speak.

Nor am I fond of texts.

Use of urban slang, lack of punctuation, and reliance on emojis pepper the texts of the young people I know as well as my friends. I don’t like spending extra  time trying to decipher the message. Just call me, dammit!

The utility of email and text that I do appreciate is the ability to inform more than one person at a time. This function is not only expedient, but it’s easy to to do.

What’s your preferred method of communicating with friends and family? Please share in the comments, peeps. Consider this an informal poll.

Here’s an important blast-for-the-past post, which delineates a time when a lone pay phone was a wonderful and necessary link between my beloved husband and me: https://www.pjcolando.com/life-miracle-att-phone-home/