Are hospitals ready for the IT onslaught?

Last night I was in the ER with my folks. My father, 86 years young, was having some shortness of breath. Since he had two angioplasties, he is extra cautious these days when something "doesn't feel quite right," as he puts it. There have been enough times when he was right so no need to take chances now.

While waiting for the test results, we ran out of chit chat about the Patriots (ugh), tennis, my children/their grandchildren (their favorite topic). We were into hour two, and I was bored. I happened to notice a computer in the room. Just for kicks, I clicked on the MSFT Explorer browser. The machine was completely open and I logged onto my Facebook page to show them what that was all about. Bad Davida. But am I the only bad one here?

The nurse came in and told me I should get off the machine. It was hospital property. She was right on that. She also said that there was sensitive information in the system. She was also right on that. I apologized, logged off and took my hand slap. I decided not to bother a busy ER nurse, who was treating my father, with a lecture on HIPAA security and how the hospital should add a layer of password protection for the machines in any of the rooms. I did see that the MedHost application was on the machine.It is great that the hospitals have computers. But have you ever seen a doctor or nurse use one of those machines in an ER room?

I have had my fair share of ER visits between kids and my parents, and not once have I seen a medical professional use a machine in the room vs. near a nurses' station or a private office.Information technology is all well and good, and it will probably be the key to moving healthcare into the black, but healthcare organizations must use IT wisely. And if IT will take an even greater role in healthcare, regulations, such as HIPAA, must be better enforced. Are hospitals ready for IT?

The Pursuit of Happiness

Earlier this month, I read and heard about a study about happiness. For me, if it has to do with happiness… humor… anything of that ilk, I want to know about it.

The article quoted Dr. Nicholas Christakis, a coauthor of the study and a professor of medical sociology at Harvard Medical School, as saying, "Your happiness is not just about your own choices and actions and behaviors and thoughts. "It's like there are emotional stampedes that ripple across this infinite fabric of humanity."

I would like to turn your attention to one part: Some findings seem made for a sitcom about family life. While a cheerful next-door neighbor increases one's likelihood of happiness by 34 percent, a happy spouse who lives in the same house contributes just 8 percent. The authors said happiness seemed to spread more through same-sex relationships, and suggested that might help explain the neighbor effect.

That 8% is troubling. Do spouses and family members feel they don’t have to be cheerful with one another? Are we of the mind that the people we live with must love us? Richer or poorer. In sickness and health. Happy or grumpy?

Maybe so, but it wouldn’t hurt to put on a happy face at home and be the one to cheer your spouse, son, daughter, mother, father or whomever you live with. That person shouldn’t feel he or she must go next door or down the street for kindness and support all of the time. Granted, we all need to vent. We aren’t always in the best mood. When one person is down in the dumps, another could help pick up the pieces. And we all reveal things to a good friend about a spat or problem at home to try and get an objective opinion about a solution. But I don’t think that should be the main source of one’s happiness.

My point? This might fall into the category of why we should eat at least one meal as a family to talk, share the day’s highs and lows, and try to understand what’s happening in one another’s lives. Good communication is the key to any relationship. Have you asked your spouse or children lately, ‘How are you?’ or ‘What did you do today?’ and really meant it? If not, try it. See what happens.

It’s never too late

Have you ever dug so deeply into a situation, that you feel you could not find the entrance or exit? For reasons which I will not get into here, I hadn’t seen much of my father’s side of the family since my son’s bris in 2001. I kept in touch with a few cousins, and after a while, it became more and more difficult to find the right words, the right time, the right anything to connect again with others.

To be fair to myself, I didn’t want to at first. I was angry. I was torn. But would I be disloyal to him if I were to even speak to these people? Then, I realized, “What the heck am I doing?” Whatever beef my father has with his family is his issue, not mine. One of my cousins, Leanne, is good at putting that kind of situation into perspective. She has this innate ability to see into people’s minds and say just the right thing.

I shattered the silence last Christmas, when I invited one cousin, Lori, and her husband and three beautiful daughters, for the traditional Chinese food meal. I did see a few other cousins over the year, but there were still a few I still needed to catch up with.

This past Rosh Hashana, I went to Leanne’s house and saw a few more relatives on the “wanted” list, and it was as if a load was lifted from my shoulders. People were happy to see me and my family, and it seemed that we picked up where we left off. It’s not easy to fill a seven-year void, but we did our best.

Then, the other day, we got an invitation to celebrate an early Chanukah at Lori’s house with family from our side (my father’s sister) and her father’s side, as well as some of her husband’s. We had plans that evening but made it a point to go there even for an hour. I walked toward the house with some anxiety, but that quickly passed. We had a great time catching up. My husband and children met cousins they didn’t know existed. I did too. I left so relieved. Tomorrow, I will invite relatives for that traditional Christmas dinner of Chinese food.

My point? We all have regrets. We have all said, “If I could turn back time…” Although we cannot recreate lost years, we can try to begin anew. You can sit and think about it, or you can do something about it. It’s not easy. It won’t happen overnight. You might even swallow some pride. It’s your life. You can choose to live it.. or just think about it.

If at first you don't succeed, try again

I finally did it. I finally made it to Nationals. I have been playing league tennis with the United States Tennis Association for the past 12 years. My team has made it to Districts and Sectionals. But it always stopped there. This past season, I merged my team from Natick with the one from Weymouth, and we created quite a group of fantastic players. But more importantly, they are a group of fantastic people. We got along well. We enjoyed being together. We played on and off the court. Everyone dug deep and did what they needed to do, when they needed to do it.

It is a long road to Nationals. First, we needed to win our division. Then, we played the Districts and Sectionals -- two grueling tournaments where stomachs do somersaults because it means so much to you.

My top singles player wasn’t able to compete at Sectionals in August, so we were on a mission. We wanted to win for Jessica. Fast forward to the final match at Sectionals. We were tired after having played for two days straight in brutal heat, but we were more hungry for the win. One doubles team came off the court victorious. Another doubles team won.

By then, I was in tears with excitement. My head was swimming, but I had to concentrate on my own battle. My other singles player lost. One other doubles team lost. I was the final match. Admittedly, due to the overall win-loss record for all of the teams, we needed one of the matches to win. But we wanted to win the cup outright and take 3 of the 5 individual matches. I lost the first set and took the second. It was up to a 10-point tie breaker. I found the edge. I hit the ball over the net one more time than she did. I won the 3rd point. I was finally going to Nationals.

My point? Anyone who knows me knows how passionate I am about the game of tennis and about competing in tennis. I had a goal. I knew how to get there. Maybe it took time, but I did it. The quality of one's life is not dependent on external situations. Every life situation is an opportunity for growth. Try to learn something from each experience and then to do it better the next time.

Thank you, Justine, for a Great Decade

At the ripe young age of 26, Justine Henin retired from professional tennis. Everyone has some kind of opinion about this. Was it the right thing to do? What will it do for tennis? But the bottom line is that she felt it was her time to spend time on other things she likes to do. She wants to put more energy into her academy. Maybe she will get married again and have a family of her own. She might have been one of the most focused and driven players on the circuit. The energy she put into her training day in and day out would make any of us faint. She will move on to other projects with the same intensity and passion.

My point? I think we can all learn from such a strong willed and excellent athlete. When I watched her, I felt like I was playing every point with her. And by the way, she’s one of the few players who still has a one-handed backhand.

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….

The Grammar Sheriffs Are Coming!

If you think you have a keen eye for grammar, well fuhgetaboutit. Two men, Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson from Somerville, MA, and both Dartmouth ’02s (yay!), will out “find a typo” you any day, any time, anywhere. Literally. Jeff and Ben seek to do for America's public signage what spell-check software has done for interoffice e-mail: smarten it up and make it easier on the eye. Their weapons: Wite-Out, markers, ink pens, tape and nerves of steel. See “On the road looking for typos: Grammar-conscious pals set signs straight” (http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/articles/2008/03/29/on_the_road_looking_for_typos/). How are they doing this? By schlepping in a ’97 Nissan Sentra across the country of course. Jane Connolly, Jeff’s girlfriend, is managing the team’s Web site (jeffdeck.com/teal), which traces their path and where Jeff and Ben are blogging (http://www.jeffdeck.com/teal/blog/). TEAL stands for typo eradication advancement league.
According to the article, the idea came to Jeff while he was in the shower. At that moment, he said, he thought about how irritated he'd become at the profusion of grammatically challenged signs. Here a "they're," there a "their," everywhere a "there" but where it ought to be.

My point…Although I might not go to this length to reform the world of its grammatical flaws, I have been known to offer solicited and unsolicited corrections to just about anything that crosses my desk, home and work. I have toned it down a bit, but I feel people should not live in the dark about proper spelling and grammar. Jeff and Ben, you go guys! Maybe we have the next “Strunk & White” in the making.

Friends

I was thinking about how we have different categories of friends. At any time, one friend may become more important in our lives. And that can change at any time and for any length of time. We have friends at work with whom we communicate, gossip, and maybe socialize. I love my colleagues at Schwartz Communications (http://www.schwartz-pr.com/).






After 12 years here, I have met many fascinating, smart and interesting people. I have made a lot of friends. I don’t socialize much outside of Schwartz with my “work friends,” although I do not discourage that in the least. Then there are neighbor friends. We have lived in Ashland for nine years and are fortunate to have a number of friendly neighbors. The people who live across the street have two boys, so that works for my son. But we don’t go out with them. Our next door neighbors are also wonderful people. Ari plays with their son, but we don’t seem to socialize with them outside of neighborhood events, such as sledding or standing at the busstop. Then, we have friends through our children. But for the most part, the parents speak during drop-off. Sometimes we stay and talk.

We have a number of friends through our synagogue, Temple Israel of Natick.




One could say that everyone at the Temple is our friend, but we do not get together socially with all of them. Another category is our long-time friends – those whom we have known since childhood, through school, as a couple. Many of these friends aren’t on the primary radar anymore for such reasons as location and schedules, and the fact that other friends are more prominent in our lives now. But we stay in touch through holiday cards, email, phone and letters (yes, the thing you use with a stamp and put in the mailbox) when we can. I might also mention those friends who aren’t friends anymore. They simply dropped from your radar. Is there anyone in that category with whom you’d like to connect?

So, what is the point? Friends are important. The saying goes: “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other is gold.” Not sure about the silver and gold, but I like the beginning. It is hard to stay in touch with all of your friends all of the time.

But isn’t it great to hear from someone out of the blue? Why don’t you call a friend you haven’t seen or heard from in a while. He/she might move to a new category.

Ch-ch-ch-anges

When you’re a kid, you want so badly to grow up. Every birthday is so special. You even count the half birthdays. When I tell someone my son’s age, I must put the quarter year in to be precise. That much closer to 6… 7. My daughter, Abby, couldn’t wait until she turned 10, as we had made a deal that at the age of 10, she could get her ears pierced. I am also amazed when the kids start to read. That opens a whole new world. First, they can learn more. However, it also means that Brad and I cannot spell words when we don’t want the kids to understand. I have heard some parents speak another language – even Pig Latin – for that very reason. Or we simply cannot talk about surprises in front of them anymore. But I digress.

In the 12 + years I have been married, and the 10 years I have been a mother, I too have changed – in good ways of course. Brad has changed, also for the better. Everyone in the family is a moving target, and with that we all need to learn how to adapt to each other’s growth and development. Some changes happen slowly enough, that we adapt automatically. Or perhaps my cycle of life matures at the same time as the kids’ cycles. Other changes might happen more quickly, and we need to quickly adjust our cycle to keep up.

One example that comes to mind is Abby. She has clearly stated that she is a pre-teen. We know she is getting smarter and more self-sufficient. That’s superficial stuff. Sure, she can be moody. That gets more into psychology. But the biggest change, and perhaps one of the most exciting, is her need to learn about herself as a girl turning into a woman. She asks us questions. We read books together. We talk. She shares her feelings with me and Brad. It makes us happy that she feels she can trust us as her parents and as people with the answers. So instead of perhaps dreading the changes, we celebrate them. And, by the way, Brad and I are changing with her.

My point? As a child grows, she can also grow out of… toys, books, phases. But G-d willing, she will never grow out of us.

It's Spring! Celebrate!

Every year, despite the weather, the calendar turns to March 20. But I don’t have to look at a calendar. I can tell it’s spring in a few other ways. The first is that my kids’ clothes get too small. My son will happily wear pants until they come up to his knees. My daughter is a different story. The minute an article of clothing feels the slightest bit tight, it goes to the pile for Big Brother Big Sister (http://www.bbbsa.org/) or a friend’s little girl. Sometimes I do have to nudge her along to get rid of some favorite shirts that come up to her belly. The next thing that comes out of her mouth is, “We gotta go shopping.” That’s ok by me if it means they are growing and healthy. In fact, they each went up a shoe size and a clothing size since the beginning of the school year. Hoorah!

The other event that happens at the beginning of spring is baseball spring training. We are Red Sox fans (http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/index.jsp?c_id=bos). My kids love David Ortiz, or as we fondly call him in Beantown, Big Pappie. It is hard to believe we are back into the baseball swing, so to speak. We are all healed from the end of the Patriot’s season and are fortunately still involved with the new and improved Celtics. The Bruins. Well, I don’t know about hockey so much.

And another big event that happens in the spring is gardening. I heard the most interesting and wonderful story on NPR. Go to www.npr.org/talkingplants and then down to the March 22 story titled, “Tips from an Amazon Gardener.” (See photo at left).

It is about the knowledge and practice of raising plants by a woman named Dona Raimunda, who lives in the Amazon. Some might call her eccentric. I call her fascinating. Take a few moments and learn some interesting facts about raising plants. In my experience of growing a veggie garden, I have found that less is more. Don’t crowd plants. Manure is cool.

No point, but I wish you a Happy Spring!

Long live Mister Rogers

I realize I already blogged today, but I couldn’t help sending this as well…

If you were fortunate enough to enjoy the Mister Rogers era as I did, you might take a moment to remember that wonderful man. Today would be his 80th birthday. He would walk down the little steps while singing “Won’t you be my neighbor?” He would remove his jacket and put on the cardigan, remove his shoes and put on sneakers, and get comfy in his home. He fed his fish. He accepted his mail from “Speedy Delivery,” he cooked with the chef that always said, “shh, shh.” He welcomed the trolley that would take us all to the Neighborhood of Make Believe, where there were puppets: King Friday XIII, Queen Sara Saturday and Prince Tuesday, X the Owl, Daniel Tiger Henrietta Pussycat, Lady Elaine Fairchilde, as well as real people who interacted with the puppets. It was relaxing and simple, which I argue was a good thing. It was a time to just feel good about oneself and learn about sharing, patience, cooperation, persistence, self-control. Now, of course, children can go online to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood on http://pbskids.org/rogers/ to play games and hear songs. It’s not the same. There is also a section for parents and teachers to serve as ambassadors to his wonderful philosophies and messages. It’s not the same, although a good second place.

My point? Mister Rogers, you were one in a million. Thank you for being you. You are special. Happy birthday.

Have a good day, but bad days have their place

Sports can teach you lessons for other aspects of your life. They can teach you how to win and lose graciously. They can teach you how to think quickly. Studies have shown the split second decisions a tennis player must make when the ball zooms toward her. Should I go down the line, crosscourt, lob, run to the net, hit a drop shot… the options are numerous. But those options are nothing without the actions of your opponent. The funny thing is a good tennis player doesn’t think much during each point. She has already thought about scenarios prior to the match – during the hours and hours of practice – or prior to an actual point. Then, she develops a kind of mind and body muscle memory that will take her through a point. If you are winning, stick with the strategy. If you are losing, time to go with plan B, a plan which you had already worked out by the way. A tennis player, like any athlete, has good days and bad days. Some days, every ball you hit is a winner. On other days, you might as well have stayed home. Accepting the good and the bad is part of the game of sport and part of the game of life. You practice. You study. You put your hours in. Some days you have a golden touch with a pitch or blast out a press release with ease. On others, you couldn’t sell ice to an Eskimo; the technology is mumbo jumbo. The trick is to listen to yourself. Sure, get frustrated. Don’t discount your feelings. But then settle down and figure out plan B. And if you'd like more information about playing tennis, let me know or go to http://www.usta.com/home/default.sps.

My point? Bad days can help you appreciate the good days. And I hope you have a good day.

Making a Life Better

I recently learned that two of my friends, Amy and Marilyn, helped make a life better in a big way. For eight weeks, Amy and her family hosted a 16 year-old girl and her mother from the Dominican Republic, while the girl was having heart surgery at Children’s Hospital. This was a huge undertaking on many levels. First, Amy and her family didn’t speak one word of Spanish, and their guests didn’t speak one word of English. But, as Amy said, “we communicated through hugs, laughter and the help of a Spanish-English dictionary.” Additionally, nearly every day, Amy drove from Natick to Boston to be with the patient and her mother. She did their laundry, made sure they were properly fed and added the support they needed in this world so foreign to them. Scene to Framingham High School, where Marilyn, a Spanish teacher, found a tremendous opportunity to teach her class the power of charity and giving, while they practiced their language skills. Marilyn’s classes wrote letters and cards to the girl, describing life as a teen in the U.S. and offering support during this difficult time. The students even raised $120 dollars to buy the girl and her mother a Target gift card, as these people came in January with very few belongings. I could certainly go on and on about the value of helping others. My family and I do a good deal of volunteering at our synagogue and town. This story truly illustrates the intensity and energy of giving, not only for the recipient, but also for the donor. There are endless ways to volunteer your time to help those less fortunate. From Big Brother Big Sister to local charities or fund raisers in your city, you can offer as little or as much time as you are able. For example, I recently learned that the National Down Syndrome Congress will hold its annual convention this year at the Seaport World Trade Center in Boston from July 11 – 13. The Massachusetts Down Syndrome Congress has been tasked with finding 300 volunteers. There are a number of opportunities. If you are interested, you can zip a note to msdc@mdsc.org or call 800-644-mdsc. Another great organization is Relay for Life by the American Cancer Society(http://www.relayforlife.org/relay/).

My point? Whatever you do, I promise the rewards come back to you many times over. And enjoy.

Welcome

Hello. My name is Davida Dinerman. And this is the first entry for my first blog. Many blogs wax eloquent, or not so eloquent, about news of the day, politics, celebrities, technology, health… you name it. There’s a blog for it. Some are meant to post their own news and are truly informative. So, what’s the difference between a blog and an ordinary article you might read in, say, a newspaper or magazine (yes, those archaic things still do exist)? Not much really, except timing to the market. It allows someone to let his/her thoughts out ... well, quickly. Our lives have reached an insanely fast speed. Mine is no better. With a full-time job, a husband (and a fabulous one at that), two young and active children (also fabulous), more family, numerous volunteer activities at the kids’ schools, our synagogue, my college alumni class, tennis team... you get the picture, even the thought of writing a blog seemed like an enormous undertaking that would make the rest of my to-do list crumble from the weight. On the other hand, as I write this, I am actually feeling relaxed. Maybe it’s cathartic. Maybe it’s because it’s a Saturday, and my family is occupied at the moment and not asking me to do something or be somewhere, or a client isn’t calling me to draft a press release or write a PR plan. Maybe a blog will let me write my thoughts unconditionally. Call it a public diary. I will not relate every little thing I do or say. But you will likely find a funny story, a suggestion, a tidbit of information and/or a thought for the day. Could writing a blog actually be good for me? Would you benefit from reading it? All of that remains to be seen. But I might end this entry with one thought…. Oops. Gotta go. My son needs help with his GameCube. You'll have to wait until the next one for a real point.