Observation – Page 2 – All The Best

Operation.Boot.Return

It sounded like a CIA operation. It was not what I intended.

My operation was a simple and straightforward return. Amazon has certainly spoiled us for that; no bag, no box, no return label.

This shipping and shopping behemoth spoiled us with quick heck even same day delivery. There was a portent in this order; it took weeks to arrive.

My complaint wasn’t the delay; even the vagueness of who the merchant might be didn’t rile me. Yes, portents and mystery came with this transaction.

I was promised an infomercial’s worth of ‘great for wearing in the snow’ and ‘so comfortable for older women’ that the stiffness of this boot irked. Of course, the boot looks great from its forest green exterior and nice design to the neat angle of its raised heel. It doesn’t feel great.

So, long story short [I hear you saying ‘that ship has sailed’] I called customer service. “We’ll call you in 26 hours; if you don’t answer, we’ll send an email with the address for the return.”

I asked about the logistics of my return.

“You’ll get an email telling you all about that.” Click.

The address for the return is somewhere in Guangdong Province China. I am not kidding.

Shipping charges would fall to me. Unheard of in the annals of easy returns!

Included in this email was this wisdom: “We advise you to stay with the product and we can give you a $ 18 dollar refund otherwise continue to send the product back to us.”

Always accept good advice when it’s generously offered. At least I shall.

In the pod

Huddling with podcasts has become a source of comfort for me. I spend a part of my respite time under earphones and tuned to one of these specific three.

At the moment, that rotation is led by Julia Louis Dreyfus. I am caught up on Wiser than Me, which gladdens me (I have been enriched), and I can’t wait for Wednesday.

Anderson Cooper offers wisdom on grieving; perversely, I find tremendous uplift in listening to All There Is with…. I am far from done with the seasons of this series.

Somehow, Brooke Shields snuck on to my listening cycle. On Now What? she interviews people who have dealt with moments of transition. (Who hasn’t?) These shared pivotal moments are enlightening.

I found myself listening to one of the most distinctive voices the other day. [Bebe Neuwirth has a special timbre when she speaks.]

I appreciate her work as a dancer and actress, but I love her for a moment at a Broadway Cares event some 4 years ago.

The audience was instructed “cell phones off.” A routine command in the theater. Within minutes, a phone went off.

Ms. Neuwirth rose to the occasion in righteous outrage admonishing the offender.

I hate hearing ringing during a performance, don’t you?

Apparently, she and I are in sync on this one.

Fight fire

For those traumatized by the blazing forestland in New Jersey and California, the appeal of flames rising is probably gone.

Fire can also be a metaphor. Fire in the belly signifies ambition and the Doors sang of stoking desire.

There is passing the torch, a tradition exemplified in Paris this summer. Fire also captures the idea in getting burned [or its alter ego, not].

Fires give heat and light. The campfire is benign and contained and well-loved. Fires can rage, giving birth to an angry modality.

Pastel crayons are waxy. I also used red pencil for definition and outline.

Our art therapy/connection group used it as a metaphor symbolic of what moves and inspires us.

Mine kind of, you know, “wrote itself.”

A collage occupied me while we did our introductions. I was multitasking.

Thank you

We are thanked for voting.

Voting is our privilege, a right that comes with democracy. We should treasure it. No thanks necessary.

The video artist I passed in front of our local school[slash]polling place seemed to share that p.o.v.

“In Argentina,” I think I heard her say, “You have to vote.”

Apparently, it’s beyond your right so that it’s illegal not to cast a ballot.

Hmm.

“Wade in the water”

If anyone or anything can convert me towards religion, it would be a snippet from Alvin Ailey’s Revelations. Yes, it is a masterpiece. Yes, it has stunned audiences all over the globe since its creation in 1960.

This audience included. Tonight, I caught a glimmer from archives of this rich inclusive robust dance work on a PBS American Masters show. It sent shivers. Just as it had when I first met it on a stage in the ’60s and every encounter since.

There’s a purity to Alvin Ailey’s choreography that gives his dances grandeur.

Journaling

Lately, my favorites have been those that specialize in Japanese paper goods; there are so many adorable, and useful, little amusements to discover. I recommend starting out in midtown, at Kinokuniya USA, a giant bookstore whose basement level is almost entirely devoted to notebooks, pens, and letter-writing sets. You can then trek to the East Village, to niconeco zakkaya, a cute-as-a-button spot that specializes in journals, sticker books, rubber stamps, and washi tape.

The New Yorker Daily By Rachel Syme

There are many platforms for the many disciplines of self-expression.

Journaling is a way to get control of your life or at least chronicle its natural disarray. Generally, the journal is used to report to oneself on oneself.

In my books, it’s separate from the blog posts I share with others. [There is an intended pun in there.] My writing is often a chronicle of my life, but the one I post is more organized than it would be in a journal.

Here, I try to make some order of it all. My posts, whether poems or opinions, intend to make a point.

My preferred “journal” is Samsung Notes. I type, therefore, I can read what I wrote. In my long hand, yesterday’s entry would remain a mystery; well, not just yesterday’s but most days’.

Nonetheless, I am attracted to the paperback book journals Rachel Syme describes and recommends.