Entitlement Attitude

While lying in bed, recovering from a severe flu, it dawned on me that we are responsible for an entire generation of spoiled and lazy young people…and by “we” I mean you. That may sound harsh and judgmental but my kids are grown and highly responsible, gainfully employed, hard working individuals. So, it wasn’t me,



and probably not too many in my generation…but those of you who whined until you got the soccer team (or whatever sporting team applies) to give all the kids a trophy for “showing up”…c’mon! That is exactly what creates an entitlement attitude. Life isn’t fair! The sooner you buck up and face it, the sooner you can find a way to deal with it. Little Johhny who doesn’t hear “no” until he’s 16 and in the back seat of his car with Susie and has no way to deal with the word or the concept or the feelings it creates because he’s never had to deal with it before now¬†either rapes Susie, or he comes to school the next day with dad’s hunting rifle and starts shooting everyone who looks at him like they might say no.

You don’t get a paycheck because you show up at work, you get a paycheck for doing something at work. Olympians don’t get medals for showing up at the Olympics, they get medals for being the best. Being the best Olympian means they worked hard for years and made sacrifices to get that good. That’s the kind of message we need to be giving our kids. That it takes dedication, hard work and sacrifice to get the goodies. To teach them anything less is unfair to them and the rest of us because it teaches them the wrong values and kids who feel cheated of their entitlement too often hurt others.


So stop. Let them get their feelings hurt when they are little and then help them deal with those feelings in a¬†healthy way. Kids don’t need pity or a trophy for showing up. Kids need an example to live up to. Kids need help learning how to deal with their emotions. Kids need adults who are strong enough to help them learn how¬†to be responsible, hard working teens and adults.


Be a strong adult and help the kids learn the right kinds of lessons so that they can cope in a world that is unfair on a daily basis.




Jackson Pollock

While some of his work is very pretty, I find that the chaos of the majority of his work¬† disturbs my energy field. The one below I find most disturbing of all. Just personal preference I imagine, but…geesh…..

Perhaps I just don’t get it,¬†everyone has a different take on what they find artistically pleasing but most of his work is not that for me.

What do you think?

Jackson Pollock


On Getting Older

When I was a child, I had younger siblings, I also had neighbors who hired me to babysit, so I had a vague idea of what parenting was about. There were many surprises, don’t get me wrong, but I had the basic concept. Plus there are magazines galore, movies, documentaries, self-help books by the score on parenting and…people talk.

Old age is different. There weren’t a lot of books on the process, and very few magazines, and not much in the way of documentation and hey, let’s face it, what is out there is scary or boring and who wants to be bothered? I mean, I’m not going to ever get O-L-D anyway, right? Well, I hope to share the truths (at least the ones I know about) here with enough humor that learning will be fun. Because…in this dimension, if we are lucky, we will be old people, and that my friend, is no job for sissies.

So please revisit this section of my blog as I share with you what it means to get old from my perspective and the perspective of my aging friends.




Attention! Calling all inventors‚Ķ

As I sit here, suffering from a summer cold (blechkt! the worst!) I have solved the world energy crisis.

Now that I have the perfect fuel and the free source…I need an inventor or inventors who can figure out the specifics.


During a cold, the human body can produce incredible amounts of the stuff. There must be a way to harvest this crap for fuel…burning it up would be the perfect way to get rid of it and as long as the body chooses (or is forced) to produce it by the bushel during a summer cold….we need to put it to work.

Surely, nature, in its perfection, wouldn’t create something that didn’t have a fabulous use. Everything is in balance…I’m sure it’s just a matter of getting the right genius on the problem at hand….so here it is…let the best genius succeed. Oh, and when you do, a small footnote that leads back to this blog would be greatly appreciated.



Do you remember the TV show Airwolf? It was one of our family favorites with fairly clean language, adventure, clothing, and the star was a flying machine. A parents dream program…something for every age group. With the characters played by the easy-on-the-eyes Jan Michael Vincent and the lovable Ernest Borgnine, it was a pleasing program.

The sound of that state-of-the-art helicopter was absolutely unforgettable…we all loved it. Not so much, however, in real life…

We lived in a huge old farm-house at the time that show was on TV. We had a double bed, four kids (the three boys in one bedroom with bunk beds, and our daughter in her own room) and a large German Sheppard. Every night we would all go to bed at about the same time and even though I would tuck them all in, we would do a round of “good-nights” very much like the Walton family from TV’s “The Waltons.” The Walton’s “goodnight” was different at the end of each episode, and so was ours every night.

Somehow most mornings we would¬†wake up with four kids and a German Shepard in bed with us. As often as not, I would be more off the bed than on, but the oldest child and the German Shepard laying across my legs held me firmly in place so my head didn’t hit the floor. I was thankful for that, I think.

One night, I heard the Airwolf scream. It woke me out of a dead sleep. My eyes were wide, every nerve in my body stretched taut…staring into the darkness trying to figure out what on earth was going on! I strained to see into the¬†black, to hear into the silence. Silence, wait, my hubby snores, Oh My Gosh!!! Why was it silent??? I held my breath as I felt across the bed to where he was lying on his back, I whispered, “Did you hear that?” He whispered back, “You mean…Airwolf?”

I responded, “Yes, I wasn’t dreaming?” At about that time Airwolf screamed again into the night and bright lights filled our second-story bedroom window as the kids came running into the door from two directions screaming, “Mom, Dad, do you HEAR that?” as they jumped into the bed on top of us and each other¬†the lights came closer filling the room with brighter and brighter light blinding us as it lifted up over the roof top and flew away.

It flew to the southwest before we heard it turn North by northeast. We had no idea what we had just experienced! Airwolf wasn’t real! It was a TV show! What had just happened?!?!?! It took awhile to settle the kids and the dog down again and get everyone ready to do a second round of “goodnight’s” but this time the voices didn’t ring throughout the house, they were softer and quieter, subdued in the inky darkness because they were in the bed with us for the rest of the night, they weren’t going “out there” all alone.


Several days later we learned that neighbors down the road had come home to find their son (late teen or early 20’s) had attempted suicide and the grizzly scene that met them will probably haunt them forever. I won’t go into detail, it is far too gruesome and sad, but suffice it to say that we learned that Airwolf did exist, and it wasn’t just used in war, it was used to save lives, or at least to give the desperately injured the only chance they were going to get.

And what better day than this inauguration day to tell this tale?