Happy New Year, Rump

     December 31 marks the end of a year for us all. For Karin Rumpza, it also marks the end of another year of life. For the sake of our friendship, I will not mention how many years of life she has had; however, next year the first digit will change. Let me tell you about my friend.

     The last name, Rumpza, has left her open to a variety of nick-names; Rump Roast, Rump Shaker,etc. I just call her Rump. I feel comfortable saying that the girl is a mess; the reason being that I am a bigger mess. Over the last dozen years or so, I have had a number of heartbreaks and upheavals in my life. With uncanny precision, the worst of the painful events in my life occurred when Rump was out of the country...God has a wicked sense of humor. I had other friends that were compassionate and comforting but it wasn't the same; I needed Rump. Those of you who know Rump must understand why. For those of you who don't, I'll tell you why.

     Rump meets upsets in her own life with great passion and when a friend is in need she commits that passion to the other person. With her humor and understanding (I almost wrote, "patience," Ha!) she adopts the pain and therefore lessens the suffering of her friend; in many cases, me. There is a special comfort she offers; I believe it is due to the deep and inherent goodness of her soul. But that's not all there is to Rump.

     She is funny, very funny. Much of her humor is unintentional. One early memory I have of Rump happened at work. Several of us ladies were sitting in the locker-room chatting and laughing. In all sincerity, Rump stood on a bench; with her arms spread wide and a room full of people looking up at her, she declared, "I hate being the center of attention."  Another episode took place when we were hiking the Superstition mountains; in Phoenix...in July. Rump disregarded my advice to wear a hat and bring lots of water. After a few hours of hiking she asked, "Is this a good time to tell you I'm out of water?" There is no good time to say those words. We both feared we were lost (and we were) and began to take shortcuts through the thorny brush. Being as coordinated as ever, I stumbled into a plant that broke off in my knee. I later learned this type of plant has poison in the tips. As we tramped and limped through the desert, Rump heard her first rattle snake. At this point I was having great difficulty walking. Good friend that she is, when Rump heard the snake, she pushed my from behind screaming, "Get out of my way!" She left me in the dust with one good leg to escape the diamondback. She did redeem herself, however when we finally sat and she pulled the tip of the plant from my knee. She saved me that day; and on so many others.

     I am writing this off the top of my head thereby making it impossible for the reader to truly appreciate Rump. I am writing for two reasons: First, because I didn't get her a gift. Rump, this is your present. Secondly, because I want people to know how important you are; not just to me but to the world. Rump (and Kari) worked at a refugee camp in Ghana for a month to help people who literally had nothing but the clothes on their backs. She volunteered in Haiti after the earthquake and helped people who had lost everything. She is an advocate and volunteer at the Welcome to America Project in Phoenix, helping to feed and clothe refugees who had to flee their homes in order to survive. Through her benevolent actions, she has instilled this sense of duty to humanity in others; myself included. Her kindness and generosity are surpassed only by her compassion. 

     Rump has her faults and over the years we have had a tiff or two, yet there is nothing she can do to diminish my opinion of her. From me to you, Rump: Thank you. You have helped and inspired me more than you know and from the bottom of my heart, I offer my gratitude and respect. I love you, my friend. Happy Birthday, Rump.

     

                                                     

                                                                    For the Families of MH370

     You are angry; and you have a right to be. You are afraid; and you have a right to be. You are confused, lost, and physically ill; and you have a right to be. You have a right to any feelings you have at this time. From my little corner of the world, so far away, I too am afraid, confused, and scared. To say I understand your feelings is a lie, and you've been lied to enough. By enduring what you have over the past 5 days, you have more strength than I can ever hope to have. I admire you. I respect you. And I am angry with you. 

     Every hour or so, a "breaking" news report is released with some astonishing development, only to be refuted the next hour. Today we find out that the aircraft changed direction at last verbal contact but was visible on radar for another hour or so. Today we found that out yet the airline new about it days ago. And when I say "we" I really mean "we" as I fear you are discovering new information in the same manner as the rest of the world; via Internet or television. That is just so wrong. I wish I had a better vocabulary to describe just how wrong it is. 

     I read an article just now, which may or may not be correct, that said a few senior managers from the airline came to give you folks a briefing. Some threw water bottles and one man said "All Malaysians are liars." I immediately thought that's wrong. However, when I let it sink in for a moment I scolded myself for judging you people. How do I know I wouldn't do the same thing if someone I love was on that plane? Unless we are standing beside you, how do any of us know?

     Many of us all over the world are standing beside you in thought and spirit; some in prayer. Trying to make sense of what is happening must come second to letting you know that there is a sense of humanity in the world. Geographical boundaries do not matter. What matters is we are all individual persons who share the bond of humanness. Language, culture, nationality, religion, or skin color matter not. You, the families of those who boarded flight 370, are important. You matter. Your feelings matter. And when you are feeling confused and alone, remember that the humanity of the world stands beside you.

Boston Bombed

It's been quite some time since I've written anything; partly because I'm lazy and partly because I don't have much of an audience. But I am compelled to write this evening after my home town has been bombed. I don't mean the fun kind of bombed...I've been bombed in Boston plenty of times. I mean the kind of bomb used by an ideological miscreant; a coward; a senseless drone who lacks so greatly in intellect that he sees his only recourse as being violence. Maybe it's a group of people; that means they are an inane group of extremists which does not possess even the slightest semblance of gray matter. We must be careful to remember the word extremist. When angry and hurt one can let his emotions take over and condemn an entire group based on the actions of the relatively small number of violent operatives. I urge everyone (all 4 of you that read this) that violence answered with violence produces a never ending circle of senseless pain. We are better than that. This of course was an act of terrorism. The first known terrorist group in the U.S. was identified in 1866---the KKK---a group of white, Christian males. Let's all remember that terrorists come in all colors...including white. There has been a hatred in this country of anyone betraying indications of a Middle-Eastern background. I believe that Bostonians---Americans--- and all human beings are wise enough to understand that those who engineered a horrific event such as the one we witnessed today are extreme members of whichever group to which they belong. We know this. We must remember this. Today's tragedy was perpetrated as a symbol...though I'm not sure of what.

The Boston Marathon is run every year on Patriot's Day. This holiday has been celebrated in Massachusetts in recognition of the beginning of the Revolutionary War. For me, it was always a day off of school. It was usually opening day at Fenway. The runners used to get a wreath and a bowl of stew. There was no money involved. People ran to be a part of history. Perhaps today's bomber(s) doesn't understand what Patriot's Day really means. Against seemingly insurmountable odds, men from numerous towns in Massachusetts met the British army on Lexington Green and the first shots of the War were fired; April 19, 1775. Though many Minutemen were killed, the British eventually had to retreat. A group of rag-tag farmers sent the most powerful army in the world a clear message; Don't mess with New Englanders. Bostonians don't quit. Nor do they cower. They do get afraid, but instead of succumbing to fear, Bostonians forge ahead. That is what they will do now. Unfortunately, there will be some who will profile and hate as a result of today's tragedy. Like I said, all members of a certain group are not of the same mind.

My family is safe. My nieces were just a few blocks away from the bomb area and are now home safely and physically unharmed. Unfortunately, not everyone can say that tonight. To those people, I offer my sincerest sympathy. And to those of you who will insist on hating all the members of the group to which the extremists belong, you have my sympathy, too for you will retain a bitterness in your heart that will permeate every aspect of your life. You hurt yourself the most. There's been enough hurt today.

Another Sandy

     Obviously I do not have to preface a discussion on the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. It was horrific. It was  a massacre. It was the loss of 28 lives...yes, 28; I refuse to follow along with the current trend of excluding the shooter from the death toll. He was a human being. He may not have been 6 or 7 but in my mind, he too was a kid. He was a severely, mentally disturbed kid.
   I was listening to my favorite talk radio show today; Mac and Gaydos on KTAR in Phoenix. Every Tuesday Meghan McCain---yes, the senator's daughter--- joins the guys over the phone. I have always kind of liked this woman but after hearing her today, she is now someone with whom I wish I could have dinner. I was going to say have a beer but, well I just don't like beer. Have you ever had a moment when you thought "She took the words right out of my mouth?" I had that today. Everything I have been spewing the past few days, she said for me. On paper, we are complete opposites. Our one common ground is Phoenix. She's a Republican, whereas up until last year I was a registered Democrat; I am now an Independent. I did not vote for her father in 2008 and I am not a member of the NRA as is Meghan. She came right out on the radio today and said that though she was an NRA member and a 2nd Amendment supporter, she thinks assault weapons belong with soldiers only. She thinks legislation needs to be put through to tighten restrictions. As a gun owner, she has no problem with a two week waiting period to conduct a proper background check. She thinks there should be limits to the amount of ammunition one can purchase. Yes, this is a GOP, 2nd Amendment supporting, NRA gun carrying Arizonan. Hell, you can't turn a corner out here without seeing someone with a gun strapped to his hip. And she has the courage and strength of conviction to speak against what has traditionally been her party's stance on gun control. This, my friends is a strong woman. This is a woman who intelligently speaks her mind. This is a woman who won my heart and loyalty when she stated what I have been saying for days; we have a severe problem in this country when it comes to dealing with those who are mentally disturbed. There is and has been such a negative stigma attached to being diagnosed with mental disease that it often times gets overlooked, misdiagnosed, or neglected. I am certainly not a mental health expert but I do know that schizophrenia can be a dangerous mental disease when not diagnosed and treated. I also know that schizophrenia manifests and presents predominantly in males in their early twenties; Newtown, Aurora, Portland, Virginia Tech, Tucson....too numerous to mention. I also know then when a tragedy such as the one that took place last Friday occurs, everyone turns to the 2nd Amendment; Lefties want to take drastic measures, while Tighty Righties invoke the Constitution. These are perhaps the same Right Wing extremists that complain that God has been taken out of the schools. They really should read all of the Amendments. And it has always been my understanding that if you believe, God is everywhere.
     Now, back to Meghan. Ms. McCain, I applaud you. And I thank you as I at last have someone who truly speaks for me. What I think I like best about MM is that she's not afraid to say she doesn't have the answers to all of the problems but understands that answers will not be found until we first have conversation. Not yelling or name calling but actual productive conversation about mental health first and guns second. The two together are in fact the perfect storm; another Sandy.
     I also want to let you folks know that if you would like to send a letter expressing condolences to the families, that you can do so through my favorite radio guys; Mac and Gaydos. They are excepting written letter...NOT emails, but actual, old fashioned letters...through the end of the month and will then send them on to Connecticut. Just go to ktar.com for a mailing address. And maybe some Tuesday give these guys a listen and hear what Meghan has to say. You can listen on the computer; maybe streaming or podcast; some computer thing like that. You'll figure it out. After a few listens you might be hoping for what I'm hoping for...a Meghan McCain and Chelsea Clinton presidential ticket someday....Mac and Gaydos just aren't good looking enough.
    

Milking It....

     Hello everyone, it's been a while since I blogged---I still don't know what that means. Now that the election is long over, I'd like to "get out the vote" for something that may not be as important, but it is certainly more satisfying...chocolate milk. I don't like milk; never have. I have a friend, however who really digs chocolate milk. Just today I learned that this tantalizing, brown cow juice is used as an after exercise recovery drink. Who knew to associate chocolate and exercise? My friend Kari knew; she knows a lot of stuff. Let me tell you a little about my friend Kari de Jong. We got off to a rocky start but over the last few years we've established a loyal and respectful friendship. Those two words---loyal and respectful--- are words that immediately come to mind when describing Kari. She understands that friendship is not just a fleeting instance of laughs and fun. In fact, when things are tough in one's life, true friendship is revealed. A few years ago I had to have some surgery at a moments notice. By the time I was brought up to a room in the hospital, it was around 10:00 at night. A short time after getting my wits about me, Kari and Karin---who will from here on out be referred to as Rump, walked into my room. Rump brought me a picture of my one year old dog, and for some reason I still don't understand, the ashes of my old dog. Kari also came bearing gifts of the finest kind; two Dunkin Donuts coffee rolls...one of God's greatest creations. I thought to myself, this is the girl who for the longest time wouldn't even speak to me and now she's at my bedside with the perfect food. As this wasn't a planned surgery, I had to take care of the leave of absence red tape at work from a hospital bed. Not to worry, Kari took care of it the next day. I can't remember if this was before or after she and Rump went to Ghana for a month to volunteer at a refugee camp. I know it was before she stayed up half the night making cheesecake cookies for my dear friend Al who was dying of lung cancer. She had worked a double shift and had to have the cookies ready for me to pick up by 6 the next morning. At 6:00 on the dot I turned onto her street to see Kari standing in the street barefoot and in her p.j's holding a pastry box full of goodies. She had a treat in there for me, too...which I devoured on the way to work.
     You're probably wondering how this all ties into chocolate milk. I babbled so long, I almost forgot myself. Oddly enough there is a website for chocolate milk lovers---www.gotchocolatemilk.com. They have a campaign going on called "Refuel with Chocolate Milk." Kari does just that after she works out...Rump has the cookies. From now until December 31, 2012, Kari is one of the finalists in a contest sponsored by the site. Each finalist describes his or her post-workout routine and explains why chocolate milk is part of his or her recovery process. I want Kari to win. Look, I'm sure there are other people that may have done a nice video, too but they're not Kari. There is only one Kari de Jong. The winner gets some kind of personal coaching and some other cool stuff. The best part is,  every time a vote is cast, for any of the contestants, $1 goes to challenged athletes. If for no other reason, go to the site everyday from now until the end of the month and vote.If we all do that everyday for the next three weeks, it will really add up. So those of you who exercise passionately, make sure to go at least once to give back those athletes who are mentally or physically challenged. And since you're going to visit the site anyway, vote for Kari. That's Kari de Jong...spelled just like that. She has no idea I'm writing this, which is strange because when I write for a professor, she is my indispensable editor...yes, she does that, too. And she asks for nothing in return. Loyal, respectful, talented and generous. I'm actually glad she won't see this because I know this is punctuated terribly.
     Ok, thank you for reading and I'll thank you in advance for voting for Kari. Next time, I'll tell you all about Rump.

Stuff That Drives Me To Drink...so I do

     I realize that I have been "musing" from Cork but I have not been Amusing. I'll give it a try with some of the things that drive me absolutely crazy; I bet you'll see some of your favorites. First let's start with bodily functions. Number one on my list is spitting. I have to ask, why? Those who spit, and you know who you are, really make me want to throw up. You may be very nice people otherwise but this habit of yours is utterly disgusting. I have the ghastly misfortune of working with a great number of spitters. After ten minutes at the smoking area I start looking around for pieces of lung on the ground. One of the great fortunes of living in America is that you will find tissues wherever you go. It's ok to use them. If money is a problem, I would be happy to buy you some tissues if the spitting ceases. And really, if you have to cough that much, maybe it's time to stop visiting the smoking area.
     Following closely behind spitting is open-mouth-chewing. God gave you lips for a reason; use them. Aren't you people afraid the food will fall out of your mouth?  Sometimes I sit at the table in the breakroom, quite nicely enjoying some solitude, when all of a sudden an infamous open-mouth-chewer (OMC) will plop down at the table with a big basket of chips and salsa. I have to go. I mean I just have to get up and leave. Once I got up and walked around the corner to the other side of the room only to walk into a grown man clipping his finger nails right next to another lunch table. Again, I must ask, why? We have locker rooms. And I think it's a safe bet that we all have nail clippers at home. Put them next to your bathroom sink, along side the tissues, and use them both. For the love of God, you're adults! I do, however  believe I work with children with pituitary disorders; young minds in large bodies. Which brings me to one of my greatest frustrations; 12 year old supervisors on power trips.
     I have a couple of supervisors, one in particular, that were not yet born when I graduated high school. When he first started, I noticed while I was training him that he had no beard; not even one little stubble. He played the game and when we got a new manager who wanted young boys with pliable minds (Hitler liked that, too), he became my boss. I know more about my job than he'll ever forget. I don't begrudge anyone for wanting to move up in the company regardless of his age but I just can't sit still while a little boy micro-manages me and everyone in his path just for the sake of flexing his managerial muscle. I find this so annoying  due to the fact that he contributes nothing productive. The managerial hierarchy at my place of employment is based on the age old "Good-Old-Boys-Network(GOBN). We have three supervisors who are women, one Hispanic male, and a black guy; just enough to keep it legal. A friend of mine used to work with us. She was pleaded with almost daily from the day she started to become a supervisor; she's black. They would have killed two birds with one stone if they had convinced her; she wisely declined.
     Well, now that I have strayed off the amusing trail I will close for now. Next time I'll elaborate more on my company and perhaps racism; huh, another chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Sandy: The Bright Spot

     Superstorm Sandy devastated the people on the east coast; especially those in New Jersey. People have died and homes were destroyed; literally razed right to the ground. I am a weather buff and followed the storm closely. Once I was able to ascertain that my family in New England was ok, I watched those not as fortunate  return to empty lots that once contained their homes. My heart goes out to them all. They have my compassion and sympathy but I cannot even comprehend what they are feeling.
     With the election so near, it was a nice surprise to see two opposing politicians unite for the good of the people who elected them to their positions. President Obama took control as a leader should and did what all politicians should do more often; cut through the red tape to get results. Governor Christie has done a remarkable job and made it quite clear that he had an urgent job to do and didn't "give a damn about politics." I applaud you, Governor. You gave President Obama the recognition he earned; I imagine much to the chagrin of your party. You prioritized. People had nothing but the clothes on their backs and needed someone to turn to and you did the job.
     I hope, naive as I am, that this is a trend we will see continue; leaders who get the job done without politics. Christie is correct; he was elected to that office by the very people who are now in dire need of his assistance. My dad told me when I was very young, "believe half of what you read in the paper and none of what you hear from a politician." In this one instance, this very brief moment in time, I believe Governor Christie. I may not believe what he says tomorrow but I believed him this week. Thank you for giving me this brief moment, Mr. Christie. It may not come along again for quite some time but in the midst of disaster you became a leader and forgot about being a politician. I am 3000 miles away from Jersey but the Governor helped me this week, too.
     Now, let's all do what we can to help the people who have lost so much. Let's not forget the now homeless pets. They will need food. The Red Cross had to cancel several blood drives in the area and needs blood. Let's all step up and do what we can to help. Thanks.