I have a confession to make....

I have a confession to make.  I’m an ugly American.  There, I said it and I feel relieved.  I know there must be a support group for this somewhere.   I wanted to write that “we” are ugly Americans.  “We” meaning all the inhabitants of this household in upstate NY, but I didn’t want a revolution on my hands.

Let me explain what I mean by “ugly American.”  8 TVs for 4 four people and two dogs? Come on now, who needs 8 TVs.  Some may argue that we are only 2 TVs over an acceptable limit.  Shirl would point out that we only paid for two of them with 6 TVs being inherited from family members who insist on upgrading the moment any new technology hits the store shelves.  For the last several years I have been tossing the word minimalist around claiming “I want to be a minimalist.”  I admit that I really didn’t know exactly what a minimalist was.  In my mind it would mean that we would consume less, get rid of all the junk in the basement and save some money.  It sounds good to me. 

I knew that I needed to start with me before I could get this family on board and in shape.  You know, lead by example.  The time is perfect because it is time to put summer clothes away and take out the winter clothes.  So, our bedroom closet was the obvious place to start.  Once I cleaned a few things out I could announce and share my minimalist experience with my family and we would be clutter free. 

Well, what started out as an episode of Clean Sweep quickly turned into an episode of HOARDERS.  We’re talking just my clothing here.  This is just a very, I mean very small sampling.  

 

  

It’s just horrifying. 

Here are some quick numbers 16 pairs of jeans, 14 black pants, 15 brown, 18 tan, 6 green, 10 grey, 4 blue and 2 white.  This does not include the 19 capri pants in various colors, shirts, shorts, sweatshirts, tennis clothes, hoodies, etc.  This is just the closet.  UGLY!!!!!!!! (I won't mention the 2nd closet in the office.) I decided that I would not count anything else. 

I have to point out that I don’t have to dress up for work and for the most part, I don’t. I definitely do not look like a fashion diva when I roll out of here in the morning.  I probably wear the same three pair of pants and five tops every week.  I also need to mention that I am not a shopper.  I live with someone who treats me very well, so my clothing just appears.  It’s always perfect and it always fits.  Just one more fact.  I take really good care of anything I own no matter how much it cost, so my things tend to last forever.  Come on.  I even have a coat that I bought in Lord & Taylor when I was 21.  It’s in excellent condition and I still wear it.  No, it’s not out of style.  

How much stuff does a person need? Or maybe the real question is, “What are all these possessions really about?” Are these material possessions physical shields to our inner emotions and vulnerability?  I don’t have the answers, but one thing I do know is that in one year and one month I will be 50 and it’s time to shed. I have one year to shed not only all this excessive clothing, but also any excessive material possessions and to lighten my emotional load.  Let's face it, that's the real issue here. I’ve been carrying too much weight for way too long.  I’ve already donated nine contractor garbage bags full of clothing from just this one closet.  

Shirl has agreed to stop shopping and buying me things.  (I told her the IPAD doesn't count.) There’s a lot more to go. With 19.3% of American households below the poverty line, it’s time that I stop being an “Ugly American.  Now what to do with all the extra hangers?

Staten Island, Indiana, Michigan, NYC and Susan

Did I tell you, not only do I love Facebook, I love my IPhone?  I have to admit that when Shirl surprised me with the IPhone, I thought to myself, “What am I going to do with this?”  How connected do I really need to be?  I’m not really all that crazy about cell phones (we all know that they are used as tracking devices) and I loathe voicemail.  So, I smiled, said thank you and tossed the phone to the side.  Well, a few days later I finally took the IPhone out and began exploring.  Well, over the past year, the apps on my IPhone have changed my life.  I mean literally change my life.  How?  Here’s just a few and I mean a few of the things I can now do with little or no effort:

• Find an ATM in seconds flat
• Locate my car when I forget where I parked it
• Divide the restaurant bill by three with a tip included. This can be difficult after a few glasses of wine.
• Find out what movies are playing at all the theaters by my house or yours
• Locate a Starbucks wherever I am
• Read the NY Times or the latest book loaded on my Kindle
• Lose weight.  I lost 8 lbs with “Lose It!"
• Run a 5K with no problem
• I can even access my facebook account. 

Hmm, FB on my IPhone. Why would I need that?  Oh yea, that’s what this blog is supposed to be about.

Let’s back up to last spring.   I was meeting my friend Ray in “the city.”  For those who are not from “the city” that means NYC.  Ah, you know…..The city that never sleeps, the big apple, my home, the best place in the world.  I had time to kill and I needed to find a bathroom.  So, I parked on 13^th Street and headed to the GLBT center where they are always willing to accommodate anyone who needs a bathroom, a support group or wants to attend a date bait session.  It’s the only place that I know of that you can empty your bladder with a bunch of transgender women who know how to apply make-up better than any naturally born women I know, go to a group therapy session, join the lesbian sex mafia (no, I’m not a member) and find a date all in one visit. Always a win, win. 

So, while I was waiting for Ray to get out of work, I decided not to attend date bait (Shirl would have killed me) and instead pulled out my IPhone and logged on to FB.  Much to my surprise, there was a status from my dear friend Susan Cox aka Sue Carter.  Apparently, she was in town from Michigan sitting on the other side of the island of Manhattan sipping a beverage with her husband in an outside cafe.  Now, I would have had no way of knowing such a fact if Susan had not posted her status. I cannot tell you how excited I was.  A few FB exchanges later and we were all set to meet later that evening. 

From 1979 to 1983, Susan was such an important part of my collegiate years at Valparaiso University in Indiana.  We tackled the many challenges of higher education together. We worked very hard those four years.  I don’t know two women who worked as hard as we did at having a good time and graduating in four years.  My backgammon game reached new levels during that time period. We pledged the same sorority and eventually lived off campus with other sorority sisters during our junior and senior years. We drank quarter beers and were out almost every night. 

The Wizard of Oz took on a new meaning and pink became a very significant color.  We cruised Mound Street, went to keggers, ate at Sambos, knew every drinking establishment in town, listened to Devo, REO Speedwagon, Styx, Phil Collins, Journey, Fleetwood Mac (my Rumors album melted on her turntable in the sun), the Suger Hill Gang and many other artists.  Who could forget ....


I said a hip hop 
the hippie the hippieto the hip hip hop, a you don't stop the rock it . 


We traveled to spring break in Florida driving her parents paneled station wagon filled with sorority sisters.  We had a few memorable trips to NYC and I loved going to her home in Michigan where her family treated me as if I was one of their own. Most of all, we laughed and had fun.  No, it wasn’t all easy.  We both had times when we struggled.  We helped each other though those times and I think we may have grown up a little.  Susan became the sister I never had. 

We haven’t always been the best at keeping in touch.  That doesn’t matter because whenever we do see each other it’s as if no time has passed.  The conversation always flows and we always laugh.  I have to add that Susan was in town for a writer’s conference.  She is a talented writer with a very successful career as a freelance writer.

So, later that night after my dinner with Ray, I headed to the East side and met Susan and her husband Mike where we shared a warm hug, great memories and many laughs. FB was the vehicle that made that happen. 

Visit Susan at http://www.coxadoodle.com/

Shirl, Rain, The Beatles & How I Didn’t Get Arrested

OK, I admit it. This is really not a blog about Facebook, rather it’s a venting session for me.  Since Shirl was there we’ll stretch the Facebook theme and make it work. 

Let’s go back in time to Shirl’s  B-Day in March.  We really don’t do the gift giving thing any more.  I was surfing the web and decided to buy her tickets to see Rain at the Palace Theater in Albany.  Rain is one of those Beatles cover bands.  OK, stop laughing.  I know. I know.  We live in Albany and finding things to do can be a bit challenging.  We both grew up listening to The Beatles, so it was a night out. 

So, tonight I put on my Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band shirt and headed to The Palace with Shirl.  It’s been a stressful week, so I was planning on a Select 55 (I’m watching my weight), sitting back without my glasses (that way I wouldn’t really know it wasn’t The Beatles) and taking a trip back in time.  It was just what the Dr. ordered.  Ah, Select 55, tickets and our seats everything was falling into place.  There are those people.  You know them.  The ones you can tell are just going to be a pain in the ass.  Well, they were next to me with their very cute 4-year-old son.  I get it.  The older parents want their kid to experience and appreciate what was important to them.  Shirl and I love kids, we have three of them.  Let’s see……. school night.  Maria was home studying for regents’ exams and finals and Erika was home because she has school tomorrow.  Ryan as you know is all grown up and who knows what he was doing.  It’s called structure and judgment.  We all have different definitions of structure and we don’t all use the same judgment.  

This wonderful family started with the musical chairs. Dad switches with mom, mom switches with the cute little boy, and this continues for a few minutes.  When the music stops, the cute little boy was next to me.  All cool.  All cool until he starts using his chair as a teeter totter.  I was OK.  I thought, he’ll settle down.  No big deal.  If need be, I’ll just get another Select 55.  It’s only 55 calories.  I leaned toward Shirl and mentioned that I hope he settles down soon.  About 5 minutes later, a face suddenly appears one inch from my face yelling at me.  WOW! SHOCKING!  Mother, I’ve had kids way too late in life and can’t deal, is screaming at me.  Something to do with her cute little boy and how he paid for a seat too.  She was so close I’m surprised I didn’t get any spit from her mouth on my face.  It seemed like I had a million thoughts in such a short moment.  First instinct was to haul off and punch the beeatch in her face and send her a few rows closer to the stage.  Sharon from the past.  I’m so glad I’m older now.  Ah, I mean more mature.  My thoughts…. If I hit her I’ll get arrested and I need my job.  The cost of the attorney could be a trip back to Vegas.  Headlines in the Albany newspaper, “Lesbians attack mother and child at Beatles cover band show.”   I mean I once got caught in the middle of a fight at a Patti Smith concert, but that's Patti Smith and well not so shocking.  Sharon, I'm just too old for this shit, who now runs to get rid of stress prevailed.  I was Zen.  It was obvious this kid had a parent with major anger issues.  I needed to set a good example and not engage at all.  I just looked at her and said, “I believe in Karma.”  I realize what happened.  This beeatch realized she made a mistake taking her kid to the show and was so frustrated that he was ruining her experience; she took it out on me.  No problem nasty woman.  I went to Mr. Volunteer Usher Man and had our seats moved to what turned out to be a better location.  Whew.  All in time to settle back in and enjoy the show. 

Some people just don’t get the point of the music.  We just came back from seeing The Beatles' "Love" in Vegas.  

Isn’t that what this is all about any way?

Thanks for letting me vent. 

Give Peace A Chance,

Sharon 

Loop Planes, Tribeca and New Friends

Anyone who knows me well knows that I live for the arts.  I love music, film and the theater.  It’s what keeps me going.  Thankfully, there is plenty to do where we live up in the Saratoga Springs area.  Let’s face the facts, I’m just not in my City ….You know, New York City.  So, when Shirl told me that she reconnected with her high school friend, Fran, on “Facebook” and Fran wanted us to meet up with her and her family at the Tribeca Film Festival, I was in.  Fran had a special interest in the short films this year because her 16-year-old son Ryan composed and performed the music for the short film, Loop Planes.  Hmm, 16 years old, Loop Planes, short film….. I thought to myself, I guess it’s a night out. 

We drove down, hit Ikea in NJ, dumped our mega purchases off at my mom’s house in Staten Island and headed into the City.  Loop Planes was part of the Shorts Category titled Identity Theft, which was playing at the Village East.  FYI, there are no theaters in Tribeca.  Of course, I scored a parking space about 6 cars from the theater which by the way really is a special talent to not be overlooked.  A few text messages back and forth and we were in front of the Village East where Shirl was reconnecting with Fran and Vin, (two high school friends she hasn’t seen in more than 25 years) and their three sons Vince, Ryan and Frank.  I was so happy for Shirl.  Shirl had a little time to catch up before we headed into the theaters. 

As I mentioned earlier, Loop Planes was part of the Shorts category Identity Theft.  All the shorts in this category had to do with diversity in some way, shape or form.  Since diversity education is a passion for me, this was very exciting.  I just wish that my co-workers on the diversity committee at work could have been there with me. They would have loved it.  I’ll spare you the details on all the shorts and focus on Loop Planes, Fran and Ryan.  That is the reason we were there.

Cast & Credits

Primary Cast: Chloe Levine, Madeline Taylor, James Colby, Catherine Curtin, Jimmy Palumbo

Director: Robin Wilby

Screenwriter: Robin Wilby, Austen Rachlis

Producer: Christine Vachon, Julie Buck

Editor: Filippo Conz, Danielle Morgan

Director of Photography: Ming Kai Leung

Production Designer: Lisa Myers

Composer: Ryan Cassata

Synopsis

This is the story of Sam, a female-to-male transgender 13-year-old, who lives and works with his tough-looking, yet, sensitive, carnie dad at a small, family-owned amusement park. The film takes place on the day Sam's estranged mother, who's like a trashy Kathy Lee Gifford, is coming to take him away to live with her.

This is also the day that Sam meets Katie, the amusement park owner's 14-year-old, rebellious, pink-haired niece. The instant Sam and Katie meet, they totally hate each other. Sam is very proud of the legacy of the amusement park. Katie thinks the park is crappy and for little kids. But, over the course of the day, their animosity turns into romance.

And, just as Sam and Katie are about to share their first kiss on the little kiddy rollercoaster, Sam's mother shows up, calling him, "Samantha," outing him to Katie, and totally humiliating him. Katie freaks out and runs away. Sam, rejected and devastated, has to leave with his mother, who continues to treat him like a girl, and continues to call him "Samantha." But, that night, in a small act of defiance, Sam dyes his hair green with kool-aid and stands up to his mom, saying, "My name is Sam."

How lucky were we to be sitting there as the guest of Ryan Cassata and his mom Fran.

After the film, Shirl and I went out to eat with Fran and Ryan. Fran and Shirl finally had time to “catch up.”  Shirl was so happy.  I think I’m OK to talk about Ryan and Fran since they have been on Larry King and The Tyra Banks Show.  Ryan is an amazing singer-songwriter from Long Island.  He plays several instruments and has been performing since he was 14 years old.  Ryan has been sharing his story about being transgender via You Tube and the Internet.  He has become an outspoken advocate for the Transgender Community and has been a role model and source of hope and support for transgender teens from all over the United States.  He is brilliant, talented, open and honest.  His mom Fran is an amazing woman.  I admire her and the love that she has for Ryan, Vince and Frank.  I can’t begin to imagine what their journey must be like.  I know that when I came out I was told to, “Go get fixed.”  I still don’t know what that means and I don’t feel broken.  My relationship with my family has never been the same.  I broke “their rules” and when you break the rules, you pay the price.  To see how supportive and proud Fran is of Ryan and her two other sons was very touching.  It is because of Fran’s support that Ryan has succeeded and is making a difference in people’s lives.  I now have two new Facebook friends and we already made it real.  To read more about Ryan, his music and his journey, check out his website.

http://ryancassata.tumblr.com/

and on youtube

 http://www.youtube.com/user/xQUEERKIDx

For facts and myths about transgender people

http://www.hrc.org/issues/13098.htm

Oh Henry!

High School was an emotional nightmare for me.  I went from a very small private school to a very large NYC high school where the clicks had already been formed in Junior High and there was no chance of anyone letting me in.  To add to the mix, I was extremely shy and now know that I had some kind of anxiety disorder (you know, back in he day when your parents just thought you were either over reacting, needed to get over it or didn’t even notice there was a problem), making each day utterly painful and frightening.  No one had prepared me for the dramatic change that my 13-year-old world was about to experience.  One of the greatest things about Port Richmond High School was the wide range of diversity that was there.  In 1975, I don’t think I had ever heard the word diversity and I can assure you my family did not explain what it was to me But then again, it’s not like they even know what it today.  Here are just a few statistics to remind you of how different things were.  (What did I do before “Google?)?

1975

Yearly Inflation Rate 9.2%

Year End Close Dow Jones Industrial Average 858

Interest Rates 7.25%

Average Cost of new house $39,300

Average Income per year $14,100

Average Monthly Rent $200

Cost of a gallon of Gas 44 cents

Average cost of a new car $4,250

Foster Grant Sun Glasses $5

The Top Ten Songs were:

Love Will Keep Us Together–Captain and Tennille (Still painful to hear)

Rhinestone Cowboy – Glen Cambell

Philadelphia Freedom – Elton John

Before the Next Teardrop Falls – Freddy Fender

My Eyes Adored You – Frankie Valli

Shining Star – Earth, Wind and Fire

Fame – David Bowie

Laughter in the Rain – Neil Sedaka

One of These Nights – The Eagles

Thank God I’m a Country Boy – John Denver

Ugh!  Look at the top ten songs.  I listened to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Yes and the Allman Brothers.  I just knew I was never going to fit in. 

I’m not sure when I met Henry or rather when Henry found me but I am so thankful that he did.  I often thought of Henry throughout the years.  I remember Henry with his big afro and his tuba (I think he carried that fucking tuba everywhere), his sweet smile, the way he would watch out for me, sitting next to him and laughing in Mr. Berman’s Social Studies class, going to the Ritz Roller Skating Ring to disco roller skate.  Well, Henry disco roller-skated and attempted to teach me.  All right, I’ll admit it, I had a crush on Henry and I knew he liked me, but I was afraid of his girlfriend.  She was this tall, amazing athlete who you just wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of. Well, graduation day came and after that we never saw each other again.  I went off to college and Henry… well, I didn’t know where he went.  We lived in different neighborhoods, so there was very little chance that we would ever “run” in to each other. 

The years went by and in 1989 I was living in one of my past lives in Italy. One day when talking to my mom on the phone, she told me that someone named Henry called looking for me.  Henry told her that he was in the Army, living in Germany and left a number where I could reach him.  I have to admit I never called.  I wanted to, but wasn’t in a place in my life where I could connect with myself let alone anyone else.  So, life went on.  Fast forward to 2009 and I’m on the Internet doing the social networking thing when I checked classmates.com, (which by the way is a site I NEVER go on because they charge for upgraded services) and I see that Henry left me a note.  Of course, the first thing I do is immediately go to his site to see if there are any pictures and sure enough there are.  Henry was as cute as ever.  I could tell that he had a successful career in the Army, he had a picture with Obama (so I knew we probably had the same political views) and I could tell that we some other bigger things in common.  Something that surprised me, but I can’t say because it’s not my place to talk about anyone’s personal information. Somehow, I always knew we had a special connection.  So, I write back and Henry responds with his telephone #.  For some reason, I didn’t call.  I wanted to, but things were hectic at work and home so life somehow got in the way. Does it really or is that just our excuse? Anyway, I decided that I just needed to do it and this past winter we finally connected.  Henry had moved back to Staten Island from Texas to take care of his Aunt and Uncle.  His Aunt passed away in October of 2009 and Henry stayed on to continue take caring for his uncle.  So, I drove to the Mariners Harbor on Staten Island and finally got to wrap my arms around Henry after 31 years.  We talked about high school, about life and the many twists and turns it brought both of us.  He played the piano for me and I got to once again connect with someone who taught me so many things about life.  Henry taught me that color doesn’t matter.  Good people come in all shapes, sizes and colors.  Time doesn't define a friendship, what really matters is what is in your heart.  Oh, Henry…….

Scroll down for photos from 1979.

Making It Real

Talk to anyone my age about social networking sites and you will get an array of responses. The responses will range from fear, paranoia, to utter disgust at the thought of such a public display of one's life, to complete delight about the experience of reconnecting with friends from long ago. It's not too hard to guess where I fall on the spectrum. Social Networking is not for everyone, but it is for me. I admit it, at first I loved reconnecting with friends and looking though all their personal information and photos. It's fun to see where people have landed after all these years. Are they successful? Did they get married/divorced? Do they have kids? How much weight have they gained? What are their political views? Oh come on now, you know you do it to. Once I got beyond the online snooping, something I didn't expect started to happen. I started to rebuild some of these relationships and they became more personal and intense than they were in real life. I don’t mean to insinuate that they aren’t real online. It does get confusing. We haven't seen each other in a very long time. We don't talk on the phone. So, is it really real? I've discovered that once you move from the public display pages of the networking site to the private E-Mails, people open up. I open up. I've found that we open up in a way that we were unable to when we were actually in each other’s daily orbits. It boggles my mine that I talk to some friends online now more than I did when we sat next to each other in high school. My online social network has helped me to get through some tough times. I thought to myself…. What would happen if I reached out to my social networking friends and reconnected in a way that was real? What could I learn? This year, I decided it was time to reach out to friends, whenever possible, on my social networking sites that had a positive impact on my life. This is my attempt to share those interactions, find the meaning in online social networking and share what I learn.