The stages of suffixes

When we are young we often see our place in our peer group defined by “ –est.” With a September birthday I was usually the youngest in my class. I was often the shortest and due to a lifelong struggle, among the largest. I had friends who were the opposite. Those extremes are objective and defined by numbers. The subjective “est’s” are trickier. Stereotypically, girls want to be the prettiest, discounting that we are such in our parents’ eyes, and young boys aim for the strongest, not buying in to the brains over brawn theory. Nicest and meanest are slippery slopes that might include elements of wimp vs. standing for one’s rights. We think that smartest means the best grades not understanding it would better to be the wisest, something that Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory might argue.

Add on a couple of years and we shift from “-est” to “-er” as in “I’m taller than…” or “our house is bigger than…” Much of this gets internalized as “I’m better than…” which helps us once again find our spot in the pecking order of things. We adjust to being more in the middle but still compare ourselves to others. We continue to look up to or down on those who remain at the extremes either by perception or fact.

With a few more years comes some self-acceptance and we make the best of what we have and who we are with ‘ly’ descriptions. We call ourselves comely or moderately good-looking. We figure out we can handle things adeptly or quickly. Before we know it we take on more roles and besides being daught-er we are now ‘one who’ such as moth-er, teach-er, manag-er, act-or.

I’ve liked entering the ‘ive’ place in life. This is where I can acknowledge that my looks might be distinctive. I realize there are things I can do to make who I am as a whole be attractive. My outlook and abilities make me creative and, more important, inclusive. Growing disabilities are disruptive and cause me to be reflective.

Now there is no prestigious study behind this musing, just some random thoughts woven together as I do so enjoy flushing out an idea, making pieces fit. Perhaps you’ve got your own suffix thoughts or, allow me to be suggestive, maybe together we can explore prefixes another time.

Marilyn

Overcoming

Today we celebrate the birth of Martin Luther King, Jr. It also happens to mark the 111^th birthday of my father, Ralph Frederick Huebel.  Both men:

• Had dreams, including wanting the world to be better for their children.
• Knew hard physical work. My father had to leave school after 8^th grade to work on the farm and King worked in the fields. 
• Lived through troubling times and overcame obstacles. 
• Married strong women whose career was housewife but who wanted to do more. 
• Enjoyed making connections from one thing to another, making them creative individuals. 
• Left legacies that they might not have envisioned.

There is someone who touched your life and, while he or she may not share today’s birth date, they share some similarities with Dr. King. Let's take a minute and toast all who have done some overcoming and let's not forget you and me!

Marilyn

Movie memories

The first movie that made me cry was Old Yeller and the most recent one that evoked tears was Into the Woods for its superbly crafted words and truths. As a ‘tween I sobbed at the end of Love is a Many Splendored Thing when I realized William Holden was really not returning to Jennifer Jones and during the old black and white version of A Tale of Two Cities. Everyone in the group of 7^th grade friends who went to see West Side Story gasped “No!” when Tony was killed and I remember being confused when we walked out of the theater into afternoon sunshine for the movie ended with a night scene.  

I fidgeted through Fantasia while my mother was enthralled but sat on the edge of my seat in front of the TV and clapped along with Mary Martin to make Tinkerbell well again. What teenage girl didn’t want to be Liesl in the gazebo in The Sound of Music? Operation Petticoat and the original Pink Panther and had me laughing until I cried. Exodus was my first book-to-movie and I was bothered by some of the translation from what I’d read and envisioned to what was on the screen. Today’s younger audiences may be surprised to learn that there used to be news clips and a cartoon that preceded the feature film and that longer movies had intermissions. I remember exploring the theater during the break in the two reels of Ben Hur because we were in New York City and were sitting up in the theater’s balcony.

In college we discovered Ingmar Bergman who taught us that movies can be more than entertainment. I remember feeling sophisticated as I watched and later dissected the acting, the script, and the use of Mozart in the film’s score. I agreed with the lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel and loved The Graduate. Back when there were large screen theaters, 2001: A Space Odyssey was stunning while Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was a sheer joy, even with the ending.

Then came violence so different from the Westerns we were used to. I had such a visceral reaction to Joe in 1970 that I never wanted to see Peter Boyle again, was appalled at Billy Jack, but enjoyed much of Easy Rider, well, until… My eyes were closed through most of Mean Streets and Day of the Locust so I started to be more selective in what I was willing to see. I made it through Spielberg’s Schlinder’s List and Attenborough’s Gandhi but choose to not see so many other historical dramas because of man’s inhumanity but it’s not always easy to tell what is violence-free. We all might love Finding Nemo and The Lion King, but my four year old grand-niece screamed through parts of Aladdin.

Much of my queasiness at seeing violence on screen has to do with an image that still haunts me and that I’ve never talked about. When I was around eight years old I walked through the living room while my parents were watching a movie on TV. That sounds like a normal everyday thing. Unfortunately, it was at a point when three prisoners of war were being released. They were roped together because one of them had been blinded, another made deaf, and the third’s tongue was cut out. As disturbing as that is to write, it was a terrible image for a child to see and hear about.

That makes me worry about the thousands of images that bombard today’s generation on all fronts. From billboards to downloads on computers and phones, kids, well all of us really, are exposed to so much and I think we all have become jaded to a certain level of violence considered acceptable. I’ve learned there are certain 9pm TV shows I cannot watch right before going to bed because for me they cross that line.

I have no solutions or even suggestions but this is something I’m going to continue to consider. What about you?

Marilyn

Shared laughter at midnight

Some friends and I ended 2014 with a potluck meal and game of Tripoli. It was my turn to host. The weather cooperated so no one called to cancel. Folks found easy parking. Everyone looked festive, duly admired the seasonal decorations, and we settled down to enjoy tasty and lovingly prepared food and one another.

Within this group there are various sets of twos, threes, and fours that enjoy doing different things together. Some worked in the same office decades ago, two are sisters, four cruise companionably every year somewhere warm. Three are part of a pinochle group that has gathered monthly for thirty years.

You may be part of a similar conglomeration of people. There usually are one or two people who are the glue and one or two common elements. Over time there is a shared story, often ways various members have reached out to and been supported by the others throughout the years. Rivalry and disagreements occur and then become part of the group’s history. A chair may be empty for one get together or an extra chair made ready for a guest or potential new candidate.

Such groups, however tight or loosely formed, are important. They bring a sense of continuity and community to each person’s life. Within their confines we can find a safe place to vent or a place where we know we can be challenged to be the best we can be. Together we mourn and salute those who were once around the table. We boost up when needed and celebrate minor and major successes.

Our evening last week included the usual catching up, gossip, and ‘remember when’ stories. It also contained much laughter. We had the brief ‘ha ha’ moments and several of the deep belly laughs that, well, you had to be there to understand why we were laughing so hard while wiping away tears. At midnight we were busy blowing horns – well, some of us were trying to – and toasting one another, but the shared laughter of the night was a lovely way to usher out the old and welcome the new. It set a great tone for the year ahead. May we all find much to smile at and chuckle over – including our own foibles – in 2015, and may each group we are part of experience some laughs that resound throughout the hallways.

Marilyn