An underrated site in D.C. – The Library of Congress

My family and I spent four days touring D.C. last week. I hadn’t been there since junior high school, ahem, 30 some odd years ago. And frankly, the only things I recall are eating every meal at Roy Rogers and a kid getting lost in the Smithsonian. Times have changed. I didn’t see one Roy Rogers restaurant. And although my daughter lost her lunch in the security line of the airport, we kept the family in tact for the entire trip.

I don’t have to tell you about the usual sites. You have to see The Mall – Capitol Building, Washington Monument, WWII memorial, Lincoln Memorial, the Smithsonian Museums, the White House. Enough said.

But there was one place which really knocked my socks off – the Library of Congress.

The Library of Congress is the nation's oldest federal cultural institution and serves as the research arm of Congress. It is also the largest library in the world, with millions of books, recordings, photographs, maps and manuscripts in 470 languages. In 1814, British troops burned the Capitol building and destroyed 3,000 of the volumes. The next January, Congress approved the purchase of Thomas Jefferson’s personal library of 6,487 books for $23,950. The doors first opened to the public in 1897.

For some reason, it wasn’t an easy decision, but I am glad they did it. Being able to view some of Jefferson’s original collections of books – from dictionaries and geography books, to the first bibles, to books on politics, in a variety of languages – was chilling.

To see documents titled, “The making of the Declaration of Independence,” or “the making of the Bill of Rights,” makes you feel very proud and patriotic. Letters to and from our forefathers, documents that helped form our country. It is amazing how much foresight these men (and women) had to preserve these documents and be sure we could learn from them years later.

And I haven’t even started on the magnificent art and architecture of the building and its rooms. We walked on the original marble floors. We viewed the friezes and sculptures and paintings which 50 American painters and sculptors created. There is a mosaic of Minerva, the goddess of wisdom waiting for you to climb the stairs of the Great Hall.

My point? Quite simply, if you go to our nation’s capital, please take some time to visit and tour the Library of Congress.

Opening Day

If I say the words, “Opening Day” in Boston, your immediate reaction would be something like, “Yeah, can’t wait to see the Sox at Fenway again.” But I have another Opening Day. Mine comes when the six beautiful Har-Tru courts are ready for play at the outdoor Sudbury River Tennis Club in Framingham, MA. This is my little hamlet. My utopia. My short-term vacation spot 15 minutes from my house.

This year, April 19, 2008 is my Opening Day.

I first stepped onto those courts when I was about two years old, with diapers hanging beyond my hand-made tennis dress, sewn with love and care by our family friend, Emily Taygan. At that time, the courts were a velvety rich red clay. The kind that sticks to your socks and the pockets of your shorts, and stays there no matter how many times your mother washed them. Those were the times when you opened a can of white tennis balls with a key, and if you weren’t careful, you could cut your hand along the rim of the can. I used to sweep the little porch that overlooked courts 1 – 4 with a broom 10 times too big for me.

I loved watching my Dad play and just being there. The clay had a certain smell. The gravel in the parking lot had a certain smell. The porch had a certain smell. Then, Dad would get me on the court and toss me balls. I didn’t even have a racquet in my hand. I would run around the court, catching and throwing the balls, pretending to “play tennis.”

As I grew older, and I really learned how to play the game, SRTC became a part of me. We could “run down and hit a few” before or after supper. Since it was open from dawn until the last squeeze of light, we could go there to warm up before a tournament.

Fast forward to 2008. I have had my own membership at SRTC for several years and serve on the Board of Directors. Many of the members have been there for decades, and I meet new people every spring. As a working mom with an insanely busy schedule, I have become very efficient with my tennis games. I have learned to love early morning tennis. I am talking 6 a.m. when the birds are waking up. I go there with the hushed anticipation of stepping onto a freshly rolled court. My sneakers make the first marks onto the court. Maybe there won’t be a lot of traffic noise along Edgell Road. I can hear the sound of the ball hitting the racquet and look forward to a great workout before the rest of my day begins.

My point? I hope you have a place you really look forward to being at. do you have a place where you find comfort and reenergize?

“Oh, Say Can You See…”

On April 4, I read a disturbing article in the Boston Globe titled, “Over 91,000 infants abused or neglected in 2006, study says.” As a mother of two, and someone who believes that children are the most precious commodity on the planet, it is difficult for me to fathom this. “A total of 905,000 children younger than 18 were reported to have been abused that year, including 91,278 who had not reached their first birthday,” according to the analysis published in the CDC’s Morbidity and Mortality Week Report. Abuse killed 499 children in 2006 before their first birthday. Ok, I gotta stop. You get the picture.

Scene to Red Sox Opening Day 2008

Believe me, I’m just as proud as the next person about our home team. The entire organization is top notch. But do you know how much a World Series ring costs? My understand is that it is $2K.

How many rings do they make? For argument sake, let’s say between 50 - 100. A very simple calculation brings me to $100,000 - $200,000. I am pretty sure that the Department of Social Services could use that money to monitor their cases and help stop and prevent this unconscionable child abuse in the US. I am also pretty sure that whomever receives a ring, puts it in a drawer. Granted, the Red Sox organization is a philanthropic ballclub. They give their time and money to Boys & Girls Club, Make a Wish, and so forth. But this seems to be a no-brainer. If Mr. Epstein reads this and says, “Why pick on me?” “Heck,” I would say, “I am happy to pick on other ball clubs or businesses that produce extravagant things, which elicit excitement for about 30 minutes and then are forgotten.”

My point? We can talk all day long about “robbing Peter to pay Paul,” but talk is cheap. In this day and age of such crises as child abuse, towns in dire need of funds to keep school libraries open and enough teachers in the classrooms, senior citizens who cannot afford their homes, healthcare (‘nuf said), would it be so bad to open our eyes to the bigger picture and rethink how we are spending money?

Do as I do, and do as I say

Something is bugging me. People who don’t do what they say they will do. And not just that. I understand deadlines can slip. Things come up. But let me know the new deadline or reset expectations. I have two examples just from this week. Example number one: The Contractor. If you have ever had to deal with contractors (I hear your eyes rolling), you know what I mean. It doesn’t matter what kind. They all know they have you by the “you-know-whats.” We contracted a company to have the driveway paved. It was a mess. Long story short, they wanted a bunch of dough upfront. Then they said, “We’ll be here tomorrow by the early afternoon.” My husband worked from home to monitor things. Even after a call to the manager in the early afternoon asking, “Where are you?” the guys didn’t show until 5:45 p.m. I don’t think they were working on Pacific Time. This is small potatoes compared to the time we had a study rebuilt. If I let my clients wait like these contractors let me wait, my tuchus would be on Route 128 looking for a job.

That example came on the heels of another one. My daughter needed to finish a project at school and asked her teacher if she could come before school one morning. The teacher said, “Sure. I am in every morning at 7:30 a.m.” Sounded like a no-brainer. Abby was up and out in record time the next morning. We were proud of her for her determination and effort. We arrived to school at 7:29 only to have the office staffperson say, “Oh you can’t go to the class now. The teacher is setting up her room. You can’t go in until 7:45.” Whaaa? I needed to get to work. Abby needed to finish her project. Why did the teacher say 7:30 when it meant something else?


Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard. And mostly what I need from you
-Billy Joel


My point? I realize these example are small potatoes. But I could cite so many more. They add up. Noone is perfect. I certainly am not. If you tell me you’re going to do something at a certain time, do it. If you can’t make the deadline, fine, let me know. Be honest with me. I’ll respect you more.

Just for Fun

F-Minus, by Tony Carrillo, is another comic strip I read in the Boston Globe. Some days I think it’s brilliant. Other days I find it offensive.

I cracked up laughing when I read this and wanted to share.



'nuf said. No point. Just enjoy.

Remembering Dr. Martin Luther King

Forty years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King was slain in Memphis. I am not going to pretend that I am an expert on Dr. King. And although I have heard this speech on TV or radio, it is one I would have liked to have witnessed. Dr. King was a true leader and visionary for racial equality and instilling dignity in every human being. But he wasn’t only words. He marched. He protested. He preached. He prayed. People marched and protested and preached and listened and prayed.

You can read the entire text at http://www.usconstitution.net/dream.html.

Here is an excerpt with perhaps his better known words. I always get the chills when I hear this. Can’t you hear the expressions echoing into the air in his preacher-like manner?

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

He ends with…

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

It is curious to think what a man like this would have done had he not been stopped in his tracks before his time. People have worked hard to continue his legacy - his children, other leaders of our nation, secular and religious. It starts and ends with you, me, your next door neighbor, your aunt, your cousin, your children, your grandchildren. It is about respect and dignity. My point? Equality won’t stop the world’s problems, but it’s a start. It makes people understand that there is something bigger than themselves. Just take a moment and remember a great person in our history. I hope we have learned something from it.

A Tribute to Bob

I grew up watching Channel 4 WBZ News with my parents. A duo that really stands out in my mind was Bob (Lobel) and Liz (Walker).

Bob was the sportscaster.

Liz was a news anchor.
They sat side by side and literally shoulder to shoulder. He is a tall man. And she.. well, I saw her in the Fabric Store in Framingham not too long ago. She is one tall lady! Liz left broadcasting in 2005 to pursue a career as a youth minister.

Liz and Bob had a most wonderful on-air repartée. They would banter and tease one another. I nearly forgot I was watching a newscast. In fact, I probably didn’t remember what they were saying. For some reason, I just enjoyed watching them. Bob used props and catchphrases. He also did a lot of local charity work.

I learned the other day that after 30 years in Boston, Bob was let go from WBZ-TV (now it’s CBS). TV is a-changing. ESPN and other cable sports channels are taking over. There are channels devoted to football, golf and tennis. Ratings… salaries…the way the news is presented…who’s cool… ESPN…I am not sure of the reason. It’s a business decision they’ll say. Let’s forget that part now and think about Bob. Globe Columnist Jackie MacMullen wrote a biographic, yet heartfelt, piece about Bob and his talents as a sportscaster. He didn’t report sports, he lived it. He didn’t report on people, he knew them personally.

That is what made Bob Lobel so good at his job. It wasn’t just a job.

My point? Passion. Passion will take you to where you need to go. Liz found a wonderful new passion. Bob Lobel is still passionate about sports,- about the people in sports and about reporting sports to his viewers. What are you passionate about?

My secret vice -- the comics!

I admit it. I love to read the daily comics in the Boston Globe. Some are one-shot deals, like Rhymes with Orange, F-Minus and Rose is Rose. Others, like For Better Or For Worse, offer a serial style. The current theme in For Better Or For Worse (http://www.fborfw.com/) is that the Elly and John Patterson’s middle daughter, Elizabeth, has finally reunited with the love of her life Anthony, who is divorced with one daughter. The author, Lynn Johnston, gently took her readers hither and thon with Elizabeth to get to this point. And to my great joy, Elizabeth, or Lizard-breath, as her older brother Michael always called her, will be marrying Anthony. Another theme of this strip is that the mother’s father, Jim, had another stroke. He is home and being tended to by his wonderful 2nd wife, Iris. The grandfather, Jim, recently gave Elizabeth his blessing to wear his first wife, Marian’s, wedding dress for her wedding. I was practically in tears. I pray that Jim will live to see Elizabeth walk down the aisle. Oh Lynn, please have a heart!

My point: Do I need a life? Well, some watch American Idol. Others watch soap operas. I happen to think the comics have more truth and lessons packed into 3 – 5 frames than many articles. Stay tuned….