Better Late than Never

Apparently old injustices are never forgotten! The very first thing one of the very first women to arrive at the 50th reunion of the St. Vincent High School graduating class of 1960 said to me was to remind me that our yearbooks had arrived late and so she never got her book signed by all of her classmates. She figured she'd remedy that situation by bringing the book to the reunion and having us sign there. One other person had done that too. I've lived with the guilt of that for 50 years and here I was at the start of this event, reminded of it right away!

I signed the book, "Better late than never. Sorry your book was late!"

See, the book was late in arriving because I, as the editor, was terrible at getting anybody to help me. My friend Anne (who did not attend the reunion) and I put it out almost single-handedly, missed most of the print deadlines, and thus it could not be delivered before graduation.

I will never forget that awful day when the printer gave me the bad news over the phone. I still remember that lonely walk back to class, knowing that everyone was going to hate me, and hearing Sister Zoe, our homeroom teacher bawling the class out for their lack of help on the book and telling them that nobody was to give me a hard time about it because they had brought the situation upon themselves.

Sister Zoe, who, it seemed, made it a point to give every single person in her class a hard time during the course of our year in her homeroom, had never been so kind to me and I always actually get very emotional when I remember how I felt on that fateful day.

And nobody did give me a hard time about it. Until yesterday, that is! When the books finally arrived, my friends, Anne, Joyce, Marge and I think Toni all had a great time delivering each book to every senior in the class (not a huge task, as there were only 60 of us). That was when I learned my away around, not just my own neighborhood in San Francisco, but all the other neighborhoods too,.

But yesterday, after 50 years, at least two of the graduating class of 1960 had a chance to get their books signed.

Della, Carol
Carmen

What a wonderful day it was! This was the event to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the class of 1960 from both St. Vincent High School (all girls) and Sacred Heart High School (all boys).

I arrived at the school early. I have no emotional ties to this building, since the school we attended was long ago demolished. Not even the name survived.

It used to be St. Vincent High School, then Cathedral High School (since it was attached to the Cathedral which was built on the site where the original school stood). And then when it merged with the boys' school, it became "Cathedral-Sacred Heart." So the buildings are unfamiliar and the tuition today is definitely unfamiliar--I learned that in our day it was $150 a year, and is now $15,000 a year. A Catholic school education doesn't come cheap these days!

People began arriving. Eleven in all, out of a class of 60. At least two people were unable to come because of health problems and one had a family emergency at the last minute. But those who came thoroughly enjoyed the day. Rose deLuna had flown in from Texas to be there and it was great to see her.

Gail - Carmen - Me - Rose
(It's nice that Gail, Carmen and I were color coordinated!)

Of course I had to answer, more than once, the question I hate most of all: "How many children do you have?" My answer is always "we had five," and hope that nobody picks up on the past tense. This was not the occasion to get into the deaths of David and Paul. I usually deflect follow-up questions with "how about you?" or "How many children do you have?"

The most special part of the day was the presence of Sister Louise, our homeroom teacher, who is one of, I think, only two of the sisters who taught us who are still alive. The other, Sister Mary William, is ill and not able to travel.

Sister Louise told me that she had come because I had convinced her to, and I am happy to hear that! She was always one of my favorite teachers, and had been a good friend to Sister Anne, who was my lifelong friend, and after whom Jeri (Jerilyn Anne) is named.

There was a Mass to start things off. I can't remember the last Mass I attended. It was undoubtedly a funeral a few years ago. As one of the planners of the event (though my participation was definitely minimal), I was invited to participate in a part of the Mass, though given my feelings about the Church (which will probably be a shock for my former classmates to read here), I declined. I debated about taking communion, but then decided that my anger is at the institution of the Catholic Church, not at God and that if my taking communion angered Him, he could smite me. He didn't. He's a loving God after all.

During the course of the Mass, we were given "gold diplomas" and a pin that showed we are now part of the "Gold Club," which entitles us to attend a reunion luncheon each year. We also were given a slide show of memories of our class.

Then there were group photos taken by the professional photographer hired for the event (which will eventually be visible on the schools web site). I handed my camera to the friend of one of my classmates and she took some photos for me.

(my photographer didn't have as good an angle as
the professional did, and two women are hidden)

There was a no host bar...they make money on that for someone like me who doesn't drink. I had half a glass of wine and lots of bottled water!...and a chance to visit and check out the "memories" table.

There was a huge lunch, following which memories were offered by both the male graduates (lots and lots and lots of football stories, which we couldn't relate to at all, along with a singing of their school song, which we didn't know), and then memories by two women in our class, Dr. Rose Lewis, who was asked to talk about her own history, and I learned something I didn't know before. I knew she had retired as a plastic surgeon, but I didn't realize she was the very first African American woman in the United States to be trained as a plastic surgeon.

Rabbi Ruby Buffin read memories of the class of 1960, written by Sonia Guiterrez, who was unable to attend.

And when it was all over, nothing left to do but say our goodbyes.

Rose and I decided that we really need to continue the reminiscing and perhaps have some sort of social event that might be attended by those who came yesterday and those who weren't able to attend. She also pointed out the remarkable volunteer things our classmates have been involved in over the years and felt we needed to record such things. I am trying to figure out how to gather that sort of information...and what to do with it if I am successful!

Basically it was wonderful seeing these women again, remembering our years together in school, and seeing what wonderful women they have become.

All of the photos I took will eventually be available on Flickr (the uploader for Flickr is being very stubborn today (Sunday), and the upload is very, very slow, so they may not all be there if you check them too soon) and the Video can be seen by clicking on the link at the left, here.

(My mouth was open because the door was about

to slam shut and hit the professional photographer!)

Brand Loyalty

5 June 2010

I don't know about you, but if someone gives me the fixings of a sandwich, which includes a jar of white stuff that has the word "Miracle" in it, I'll leave my sandwich dry, just bread and meat and maybe a bit of onion and tomato. The spread that goes on my bread, or into which I dip my artichoke leaves, or what I mix if I'm going to make potato salad has to be Best Foods (Hellman's east of the Rockies). I might, if I absolutely have to, use some other brand of mayo, but nothing satisfies my taste buds but Best Foods. It was what I was raised on, that taste of home.

When people ask about brand name loyalty, I say that I pretty much don't care, one way or another, but when I think about going through a supermarket or looking for something specific to purchase, I realize that I do have some strong brand loyalties.

Take English muffins, for example. I was raised on the nooks and crannies of Foster's sourdough English muffins, which may or may not have been available outside of San Francisco. They no longer exist, unfortunately, and haven't for decades, and I had to make do with all sorts of definitely unacceptable brands until Thomas' came along. Thomas' English muffins have the nooks and crannies that hold in all that good butter, just like Fosters did. Never cut an English muffin in half. You have to pull it apart to create nooks, create crannies, create goodness.

If it's peanut butter, it has to be Skippy, preferably creamy. There was a time when I succumbed to pressure and bought Jif but it just didn't have the Skippy flavor and when the kids weren't around any more, I went back to buying Skippy again. We use a lot of peanut butter in this house. Rarely sandwiches, but more a quick spoonful as a snack, and very definitely to wrap a pill in to make a dog take it unquestioningly! (Of course, I don't think the dog cares what brand of peanut butter is wrapped around her pill!)

I will eat other yogurt, but Yoplait is the only kind I actually buy, usually strawberry flavor. It's one of the few "low calorie" things that I actually prefer over its higher calorie counterpart. Oddly enough the creamier yogurts don't appeal to me (which is a total contradiction in everything I've ever felt about my food likes and dislikes!)

I haven't had carbonated beverages in a long time, probably not in years. Not from any sort of religious or dietary principle but just because I prefer to drink water. But in the days when I actually drank carbonated beverages, the only one I really liked was diet Coke. Not regular Coke, it has to be diet coke. And don't offer me any Pepsi either. If my choice is Pepsi or nothing, I'll take nothing. Some people say there is no difference, but I really can taste the difference. If the opportunity arises, and if I'm at an A&W, I might have a rootbeer float, but I don't like the stuff without ice cream floating in it (I also don't like any other sort of root beer but A&W).

My dentist has me using a prescription toothpaste (Prevident), but if I am buying off the shelf, my choice has been Colgate for years. I just like the taste of it. I don't like peppermint flavored toothpastes. I'm a little less wedded to my toothpaste than I am to other things, but I think it's mostly force of habit that keeps me buying Colgate.

When it comes to shampoo, though there is only one and that's Prell. I don't know how many years I've been using Prell, but probably all of my married life, at least. There were periods of time when you couldn't seem to find it anywhere, so if I happened across it in some oddball store, I would buy several bottles of it so I didn't run out, but now it seems to be back in the mainstream again, so I'm a happy camper.

I'm sure there are other name brands to which I'm wedded, but these are the biggies that come to mind. Basically, I don't care about most brand names and go for the lower priced item, but when it comes to mayonnaise, it has to be Best Foods!

---

On Saturday I am attending the 50th anniversary celebration of my high school graduation. It's going to be a Mass and luncheon in San Francisco and I'll be seated with my freshman homeroom teacher, Sister Louise, whom I am very anxious to see again. She was always one of my favorites.

I was going to take the computer with me because I'm spending the night at my mother's, but in anticipation of photos and perhaps some video to add to a report on the event, I will wait and write it after I get home, so the next entry of this journal is going to be posted late.

What's that needle doing in my skull?

I'll be fine, just as soon as the stabbing pain in my head stops. It's a familiar pain. I've had it many times over the years, just not recently. It's not a headache. It's also not a sore throat, though my throat hurts too. It's like someone has jabbed a needle in the very top of my head and sent a nerve pain shooting down the back of my skull or the side of my face (it alternates) and into my throat (and then if I swallow, it shoots the pain back up into my head again).

It's not terrible. It comes and goes. Kind of like the throb of a heartbeat, only much, much slower. If I massage the area where the pain comes, it feels better, but I can't massage it all the time. It's just a bother and I want it to stop. Now.

It almost kept me from driving to Sacramento this morning, but I finally accepted that I simply had to get some clothes for the trip and so I went anyway. I hardly noticed the pain while I drove to Catherine's Fat Lady store (I think it's technically called "plus size" instead of "fat lady" but let's be honest here).

And I didn't notice it while I was standing in the dressing room, sweating like a pig in the June heat and trying on clothes.

I actually found two pairs of pants that fit, one blouse that I really liked, and a lightweight knit sweater thing that had been reduced from $50 to $10 and was too good a bargain to pass up.

I noticed the pain again while I was waiting to pay for my purchases.

I tried to pay with my Catherine's credit card, but it had been so long since I'd used it that they didn't even recognize it (as in--the old old cards are pink and this one is SO old that it's brown and nobody could remember seeing a brown card). This told me how long it has been since the last time I went shopping for clothes, because I don't think I have ever bought clothes in a store other than Catherine's. I've ordered sweat pants from a catalog, but that's about it.

I could have paid with my Visa card, of course, but then I'd miss out on the automatic 10% discount you get from using your Catherine's card. Added to the 30% that I got because I have a Catherine's card which allowed me to get a scratcher card that let me know how big an additional discount I got.

Then because the computer was down and they couldn't look back in their old records for my information, they just issued me a new card, which meant I got an additional 15% off for opening an account. Ultimately with all the discounts they kept piling on, my ~$160 worth of purchases cost me $85.

Wincing my way back to the car because the pain was coming in throbs at that point, I drove to the nearest Red Lobster for lunch because I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get more of those good snow crab legs while I was in the neighborhood. I didn't notice the pain while I was drowning my snow crab in melted butter. I think it was still there, but the pleasure sensation buried it.

Back to the car and turn on my audio book again and back out into traffic. I was stopped at a very long stoplight and looked to my right to see a woman in her car lovin' whatever it was that she was hearing on her radio.

I debated about stopping at Costco, my original plan, because what I really wanted to do was to get home and take an aspirin (which, as it turned out, didn't help anyway because this is more a nerve pain, like a toothache in your head...I guess toothaches are in your head too, aren't they? Duhhh.). But we were running out of doggie treats and one cannot be out of doggie treats! I also thought I would get something easy to fix for dinner so I didn't have to deal with cooking.

I did a quick tour through Costco, getting the treats, and some individual pizzas for Walt to cook for himself, and some cherries for the fruit cravings I've been having (cherries at Costco were $8 for 3 lbs; at my local market they were $4.50 a pound and had been packaged in 3+ pound packages!), then I drove the last leg of the trip, really looking forward to getting everything put away and collapsing in the recliner.

Of course, with six dogs in the house it's never that easy. The chaos starts when the car turns into the driveway. Polly starts that yappy chihuahua bark of hers and Lizzie starts leaping at the door. I hear yip-yip-yip, thud, yip-yip-yip, thud over and over again while I get my keys out. When I open the door there is a flurry of activity. Mom's home! Mom's home! Mom's home!

The babies have now learned about the front door and are forever darting outside as soon as the door is opened and then I either trip over them or start to shut the door on their bodies.

Five of them know that when I come home there are treats to be dished out (the way I keep them all from running outside when the door is opened). This is fine when there are only two, but five bodies leaping at me becomes chaos. It's only a matter of time before Bitsy figures it out too, since her brother already has.

Somehow I managed to get treats dolled out and food put away and I got myself a bowl of cherries (because life is, after all...) and collapsed in the recliner. But four dogs immediately had to get in my lap and Emmy, who is convinced that anything that goes into my mouth belongs to her alternated between trying to take cherries out of my mouth and trying to get them out of the bowl. I don't know what she would have done with a cherry if she HAD succeeded.

I managed to get them distracted with a new toy I'd bought at Costco. One of those long dogs that you see in Petco ads. It only took Polly 30 minutes to start ripping the stuffing out of it, but it was a good 30 minutes and the entertainment value for both the dogs and me was easily worth the $2.50 I paid for it.

Now I just have to cook the individual pizzas so Walt can have dinner (I'm not feeling hungry), feed the dogs, and settle in to watch Russian Ark, the new movie I just got from Netflix, which is about a tour of the Hermitage and which my friend Ron tells me is great if you need a sleeping pill, and hope that the pain finally subsides.

I know from experience that what happens is that the intervals between throbs get less and less and eventually, hopefully by tomorrow, I just don't notice it any more. Like I said, it's a familiar pain that I've had off and on for years, but just not recently.

It's not a great story...

There was nothing earthshaking going on today, but it was just a...pleasant day.

At 11:30, I met my friend Ruth downtown for our regular lunch. We get together usually every other week, a practice we started a few months back and I am enjoying it immensely. She's a woman who has always fascinated me and we have much in common. We discuss books and California history, theater, and politics and just whatever comes up. We meet at a Chinese restaurant that has a reasonably priced all you can eat buffet and we eat too much...

...and then discuss our respective fortunes.

(I figure that given our upcoming trip to Russia, this was pretty accurate!)

When we'd said goodbye, I decided to stop at the supermarket (which is also my bank!) to deposit some checks and to pick up a few things. I have been craving fresh fruit and juice just wasn't cutting it.

I was coming up on the potato/onion section of the produce section, waiting for the woman ahead of me to move her cart when she turned around and it was our former next door neighbor, whom I had not seen in about 3 years, so we had a lot of catching up to do.

Her family was responsible for our family getting involved in theatre, when her girls were cast in a production of The Sound of Music and we went to see the show. That show resulted in the formation of the Sunshine Children's Theatre (where Jeri first met Phil) and started our kids on the path that many of them followed into adulthood.

We had a nice chat that went on despite the other shoppers stepping in to get their produce. I learned about her husband getting his pilot's license and learned what was going on with their children and grandchildren.

We eventually parted but passed each other a couple more times as we made the rounds of the store, each time remembering one more bit of news to give the other. It was very nice seeing her again.

Going down the last aisle, I spied the snack size Haagen Dazs bars in the freezer compartment and picked one up to eat on the way home.

My favorite check-out clerk was there with only one older man in her line, who had only a couple of things to buy. But it turned out he didn't know how to work the ATM machine and his purchase had to be re-rung, and then he had lots of questions about store policy, so it took a long time for him to finish up, while I looked down the row of other clerks and discovered that not one had a customer. But I was in no hurry, so I just stood there patiently and waited for him, marveling that in years past I would have been very impatient, but now it just seems too much energy to get upset about it.

It's a hot muggy day, so I sat in the car, cranked up the a/c and sat there enjoying my ice cream bar while I listened to my new audio book (Diana Gabaldon's "The Drums of Autumn"). I watched a woman who may or may not be part of the writing group walking with some young people who may or may not have been her child and a spouse, but I never did figure out if it was her or not.

Finally I decided to go home. I pulled into the driveway 30 seconds ahead of a Prius that pulled in behind me. Valerie. Polly's trainer. I had completely forgotten she was coming at 2 p.m., but fortunately I got here on time anyway, no fault of mine!

She helped me unload groceries and I got the leash on Polly for her. Polly now sits on command (after only a month of training. LOL) She was also somewhat excited about going outside on a leash until she realized I wasn't going to go along. But they had a decent walk and came home to work on "sit" some more, while Itsy climbed all over Valerie's feet and tried to steal treats.

And then she left, I let the other dogs back in, settled in to watch the Glee recording on my DVR, which recorded while I was out reviewing a show last night, and that takes us up to about now.

As I said, it's not a great story, it's just what happened.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen TV Duos

1. Jed Bartlet and Leo McGarry (The West Wing)
2. Napoleon Solo & Ilya Kuriyakin (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)
3. Dick & Laura Petrie (The Dick Van Dyke Show)
4. Lassie & Timmy (Lassie)
5. Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke (White Collar)
6. Oscar Madison and Felix Unger (The Odd Couple)
7. Richie & the Fonz (Happy Days)
8. Kirk and Spock (Star Trek)
9. Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler (Law & Order SVU)
10. Kermit & Miss Piggy (The Muppet Show)
11. Monk & Natalie (Monk)
12. Johnny Carson & Ed McMahon (The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson)
13. Denny Crane and Alan Shore (Boston Legal)

Beyond Livid

I am beyond livid.

Sister Margaret McBride, a Catholic nun in Phoenix has been excommunicated by the local bishop for being part of a hospital ethics panel which permitted the abortion of an 11 week fetus in order to save the life of the 27 year old mother of four.

The patient had "right heart failure" and her doctors felt that continuation of the pregnancy would have "a mortality rate of 100%."

The hospital had two choices: terminate the pregnancy and save the life of the mother, or don't terminate the pregnancy and allow the death of both the mother and the child. They chose to terminate the pregnancy.

Now Sister Margaret has been excommunicated because, according to the bishop, a good outcome cannot justify an evil act.

Well, isn't it nice that the Catholc Church has finally acted swiftly to enact punishment against someone perceived of doing wrong in the eyes of the church.

Too bad it's against a woman trying to save the life of a mother of four, not a priest trying to take the innocence and childhood of a child or several children. If it were a priest who had been molesting children for years, he'd just go to a halfway house and then after a period of time sent to another parish to work with more children. (Oh wait--that's what they do with pedophile priest.)

The gall of these stupid old men. The unmitigated gall!

This church which has protected pedophile priests for decades, and only now is being slightly more open about things because they got caught literally with their pants down, has the effrontery to excommunicate a woman placed in an impossible situation: Choose abortion, kill the baby. Choose NO abortion, kill the baby and the mother both.

According to a statement by the office of the Diocese of Phoenix, "Formal cooperation in an abortion constitutes a grave offense. The Church attaches the canonical penalty of excommunication to this crime against human life."

Oh well...if it's a crime against human life obviously vengeance must be swift and terrible.

Unlike pedopohilia, another crime against human life, which apparently can be shoved under the carpet until the police get wind of it.

When asked "what is the purpose of excommunication," the Bishop's office responded, "The purpose is to repair scandal, to restore justice and to reform the offender.

Anybody know how many of the hundreds of pedophile priests were excommunicated before being sent back out to work with children again...? According to the Rev. Thomas Doyle, a canon lawyer, no pedophile priests have been excommunicated.

Did you read that? NO PEDOPHILE PRIESTS have been excommunicated.

"When priests have been caught, Doyle says, their bishops have protected them, and it has taken years or decades to defrock them, if ever.

"Yet in this instance we have a sister who was trying to save the life of a woman, and what happens to her? The bishop swoops down [and] declares her excommunicated before he even looks at all the facts of the case," he says.

Oh yeah--the Bishop's office also requires that this member of a religious community be dismissed from religious life.

Anybody know how many of the hundreds of pedophile priests, or those complicit in their cover-up were actually defrocked (I'm sure there were some...but then Cardinal Law was elevated to a high position at the Vatican despite his complicity in the coverup in the Boston Archdiocese.)

But I suppose that the very best thing of all would have been to stand by and watch this mother of four die. Gather her husband and four children around her bed to say goodbye to Mommy.

What would Jesus have done?

I was so angry when I read this story that I was literally screaming in the kitchen this morning. The dogs and Walt went and hid.

June is Bustin' Out All Over

It's hard to believe that it's June already.

And if it's June, that means that we will be leaving on vacation in just a little under 3 weeks.

And that's the reason for the look of the June pages of this journal, with the St. Basil background and the little smiley comrade.

We are going with Char and Mike to Finland, and then on to a boat cruise from St. Petersburg to Moscow.

It seems so strange to write that. In truth, Russia was never high on my list of places to explore, though I'm starting to get excited about it all, now that we seem to have gotten all of our documents.

I know I mentioned this briefly before, but perhaps in a bit more detail, we fly out of San Francisco to Helsinki (3 flights...here to Detroit, Detroit to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Helsinki), where we will stay for 2 nights, I think.

Then we take the train from Helsinki to St. Petersburg, where we board the Viking Cruise Ship the Kirov. We don't leave right away, but have 3 days to explore St. Petersburg (while having meals and spending nights on the ship) and then we take off down the Neva River, for a week, headed toward Moscow, where we have the same 3 days to explore before getting back on the plane and head home again. This is not an ocean cruise, but a river trip, kind of like the river trip we took with Mike and Char in England, only instead of carrying 8 passengers, this ship carries 210.

I suspect that by the time we get home, I will have seen all of the onion domes, churches and monestaries that I want to see for a long time, but it certainly is fun looking at the books, photos, and web pages of the places we will visit.

While you don't need visas to enter any of the countries we have visited thusfar, you do need a visa for Russia. It was a little scary to send off our passports with a big check to ask for a visa and trust that it would be returned. But we did get the visas a couple of weeks ago (Mike and Char are still waiting for theirs and getting nervous).

On Friday we got a packet from the tour operator with all of our documents--our itinerary, plane tickets, and all the books we need to prepare for the trip.

This morning we got an e-mailed itinerary with all the plane information (and a follow-up, after my e-mail expressing some concern that we don't seem to have any information about our travel from Helsinki to St. Petersburg, with information about our train travel).

Ashley, bless her, is going to move in here while we're gone. It's easier for her to move here than try to move all four foster dogs to new homes at a time when foster homes are more scarce because of summer vacations. It would be especially difficult to try to find a new temporary home for antisocial Polly and frightened Emmy. I don't even want to know how many dogs she is bringing with her, and perhaps the less said to our neighbors about that, the better! I hope I will live in blissful ignorance of any chaos that is going on in the zoo while we're gone.

In looking back on the "this day in my history" entries, I realize that the day we leave will be almost exactly a year ago that Jeri and I left on our trip to France and Italy and I face the same fears this year that I did then--ability to keep up and is it going to be too hot (based on how last year's trip went!) It occurred to me to ask why we keep taking trips with Mike and Char in June, when all four of us are retired and could pick a cooler time, before school is out, to go on these little jaunts (not that we are likely to encounter a lot of school age people on a river boat cruise in Russia!) Of course we did have to work around our teacher-daughters last year, I realize. But what's our problem this year?

I may regret this, but I'm going to take my computer with me. We'll have wifi at our hotel in Helsinki, and wifi (albeit very slow, I'm told) on the ship. I'll give it a try, but if it turns out that posting entries proves difficult, I can at least get them all written and post when I get home (because I am nothing if not compulsive). I may regret carting it around from plane to hotel, but once we get to the ship, it can just stay there. (You can all laugh and say "I told you so" when I complain about having it with me.) If nothing else, I won't have to worry about what type of keyboard I have to deal with when I want to try to write an entry!