Hermetically Sealed

Of all the things I miss about the time in which I grew up, I miss the packaging most.  Yes, the packaging.   In simpler times, we didn't wrestle with childproof caps, tamper proof shrink wrap, vegetables and foods sealed into bags that would withstand rocket re-entry from a moon voyage.  No! Caps twisted, popped and bags zipped open with ease....sigh.

This all came to a head this morning as I struggled to open a bottle of rice vinegar.  The screw off cap seemed to be quite enough protection to me.  (After all, the terrorist warning codes for vinegar haven't been elevated in months.) The inner plastic block with a round rubber pull-ring seemed over the top.  It is, after all, vinegar.  Of course, the pull ring broke, leaving me with two options.  One: find a very sharp, thin bladed knife and dig the whole thing out or, two: get dressed, get into the car and drive to one of our local football-field sized grocery stores to look for more.  I opted for the first, all the while cursing the people who work overtime to come up with the impenetrable packaging that protects us all from those who would foul our vinegars.

These small aggravations always make me think how unnecessary this stuff was in my youth.  I guess one might glean from todays security measures that people are more inclined to tamper with food or steal things nowadays.  I've read a few stories about tampering with food and OTC drugs, and I understand the bulky, uncooperative packaging of so many items is to make theft more difficult.  This wasn't something necessary to keep me on the straight and narrow when I was a kid, because I had the greatest deterrent to theft ever known to the world....a fully engaged mom.

I am not looking back at my childhood with rose colored glasses, lots of kids has "sticky fingers" back then, too.  I remember some girls bragging about shop lifting; they considered it a sport.  I asked one girl, sporting a freshly acquired cashmere sweater, how she accounted for a stack of things that didn't belong to her.  Her response was her mom didn't pay any attention, and if she did notice the girl just said she had borrowed it from a friend.  No problem.

Here is just one of the ways my life was different from those gals: boy did my mom did pay attention!  If, on some sunny Monday afternoon, my mom had been filling my dresser drawer with freshly washed, Montgomery Ward cotton underwear and her fingers had struck a vein of cashmere she would have investigated immediately.  Her mom-radar would have locked onto anything that had not come through our front door under her watchful eye.  She knew what I owned, how much it cost, and what my babysitting money had been used for.  In true Mom fashion, could also detect a lie before it crossed my stuttering lips; if she had identified a stolen item I guarantee the woman would have marched my shameful butt right back to the store to return it. It never would have crossed her mind that I might have been embarrassed and scarred for life; no excuse would have changed my fate. In addition, I'd have been grounded so long she might have missed out on grandchildren altogether!

We certainly weren't rich, but I had the luxury of a stay-at-home, dinner-on-the-table, full-time parent.  She wasn't Donna Reed or Harriet Nelson....but she did her job so well I was shocked to discover how tough her career choice had been when my own kids came along. We need more fully engaged moms and dads today, an army of parents armed with love and expectations!

Next time you're struggling to open a vinegar bottle, or free a cd case from its three-foot square, shrink-wrapped block of plastic, or locate someone in the store who can open a locked case so you can buy a phone cord, remember this:  When we don't have the security of enough fully engaged moms and dads, we must make up for it in other ways.

It's a different time and a different world, but the need for parents who pay attention has never been greater.  Hold your kids accountable...and hold them close to your heart.  Let them know you’re on the job, because it's the only way to teach your kids the things that stay with them for a lifetime.

                                                               Life is Good

   

The New Continental Breakfast: Politics and Hashbrowns

This morning, like most Monday mornings, my husband and I met a group of neighbors for breakfast.  Although we’ve moved from our old neighborhood, these are people with whom we keep in touch because we like them. 

Like most weeks the discussion eventually wound up on politics.  Understand, this is a diverse group.  We have feminists, democrats, republicans, concealed carry advocates, vegetarians, and one person who is politically confused…that would be me.

Sometimes the discussion gets lively.  Other times, like today, the conversation might be full of dismay.  It’s never dull, it’s hardly ever shrill, and it sometimes changes the way I look at things because I come away with someone else’s viewpoint to measure against my own.   In short…it’s healthy.

As the coffee pot made the rounds we talked about how politics had become so volatile, severing friendships and dividing families.   For me, I can honestly say many of my long-term friends have been in my life without my ever knowing (or caring) what their politics are.   Every now and then a badge or bumper sticker might show up, there might be some ribbing associated with it, and then the subject was dropped to discuss more important things like kids, house repair and vacations.   I don’t attribute this to the fact that I only associate with politically and intellectually lazy people, I know it to be quite the opposite.

Today it is so easy to be angry; each television channel and radio broadcast is filled with political rants and venomous attacks on every political figure and everyone with whom they’ve ever had a conversation.  The internet is filled with misinformation, ugliness and hatred.  People aren’t just convinced they’re right, they are foaming at the mouth right!  Do unto others has been amended to ‘do it to them first’.  As we left the restaurant I had to pause and wonder how such a group as ours could meet each week and not end up in a food fight.    

Somehow our little group does okay, and I think I have it figured out.  I like these people, and I know them.  Despite any political differences we have I believe I could ask for help from any one of them and they would reach out a hand just as I would for them.  I believe when they make a decision it is based upon a good moral character and a kind heart.  We have a great deal in common; love of family, home and community. The fact that we may differ politically does nothing to convince me that these are anything but good people.  I respect their right to disagree with me, and their opinions more than anything I see on Face Book, in a right/left wing newscast, and more than any political ad.  For the most part we listen to one another, and while we haven’t had an “conversions” we sometimes leave the table with more than we had.  

Unfortunately, our breakfasts won’t cure the problems of this shaking, quaking country or calm the nerves of its citizens.  But, for half a dozen people enjoying breakfast and conversation, it gives us a look into the thoughts and lives of neighbors with whom we may not always agree, but always welcome with care and respect.   It’s a start.

                                                              Life is Good