How Bill Cosby Taught Me How to Be a Good Writer...

Tonight, PBS aired the awards show of “Bill Cosby: Mark Twain Prize”. It was amazing to watch. Bill Cosby has amassed a significant body of work and has inspired many other performers. I am inspired whenever I see someone honored. However, Cosby’s award show was particularly moving.

As part of the awards show they aired excerpts of Cosby’s comedy routines and of “The Cosby Show”. Those excerpt and were enjoyable and enlightening.
Cosby is a gifted comic. That’s undeniable. However, his true gift was in describing everyday life in a universal way. It defied age, race, and religion. It defied everything! It was just real.

Cosby has so skillfully described the common aspects of humanity. Being a kid, being a parent, and being someone trying to make it, are common experiences. Cosby shared his story plainly and without pretense. That's notable. However, it is even more noteworthy because Cosby came of age when circumstance could have jaded him. However, in spite of it all, he was able to identify the universal human experience. Amazing!

Cosby’s honesty and transparency made all of the difference. Seeing his life portrayed on screen reminded me that reflection and courage are the essence of good writing.

Thank you, Bill. I hope that one day I am half as good.

Love should make you act...

The other day at the coffee shop I overheard people discussing a recent suicide. Apparently, a regular committed suicide in the most dramatic of ways. He shot himself.

The shop was abuzz. People were full of outrage and amazement. The cashier commented “he seemed fine to me.” Immediate suicides startle us, and it should. It’s unnatural. However, gradual suicides tend to escape our attention.

We observe people killing themselves softly and slowly over time, but we look the other way. We ignore evidence of their broken spirits and their lost hope. We observe them engaging in very harmful behavior, but we convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing by minding our own business.

Recently, a relative received a terminal cancer diagnosis. He learned that cancer had been eating away at his lungs, liver and brain for some time. Regrettably, the cancer killed him within two weeks. The disease got our attention because it demanded it. However, I know that there were other signs that we ignored.

We watched his quality of life decline steadily over the years. His belabored gait, poor dentition, and weight loss were all signs that could have motivated us to act. However, over the years, even though I knew about nicotine’s addictive properties, I judged him harshly for smoking instead of responding in love.

At the end, I did not blame him for his illness. My own illness taught me that illness has no respect of persons. What I deeply regretted was not trying to help.

We might not have saved him, but we could have made his days better. If I have learned one lesson, I pray that I have learned to love my family and friends a little better. That will make all of the difference.

“I am what I wear and how I dress…”

"So forget the inner me , observe the outer... I am what I wear and how I dress." (Amneris, "Aida")

What you choose to wear communicates a message. It can tell the world if you are happy, sad, conservative, or looking for a date. There also certain fashion milestones for women that announce to the world your stage of life.

Often the first time that a girl wears sheer pantyhose or high heels indicates that she is no longer a little girl. The first time you are allowed to wear makeup out of the house or wear your hair down to a party are all signals to the world that you’re a young lady. A low cut blouse, a pair of tight jeans, and a mini skirt can tell the world that you are more than a nice young lady. You are a lady looking for a good time…

After college, life is often full of a series of predictable fashion choices. You have work clothes and play clothes. Often you continue to wear the same style until you look in the mirror one day and realize that your knees are no longer your best feature and your butt and breasts aren’t as high as they used to be.

Of course, anyone can wear whatever they like and can afford. However, even after college, certain fashion choices are like a right of passage.

For me, two fashion choices have represented “real womanhood”. They are mink coats and St. John suits. And even though I have been a practicing attorney for some time I haven’t felt quite read for St. John or for a mink coat.

It may seem silly. However, I have avoided buying those items because I have associated those items with being a woman “of a certain age”. I’m not sure what that certain age is it was just an age that I had not yet attained.

My decision not to buy those items has less to do with my actual age and more to do with how I see myself. For some reason, I thought that I had more living to be before I had earned the right to wear those things. Also, I have always associated those two things with things that my mother and women of similar achievement would wear.

Lately, I have second guessed those choices. St. John has designed some cutting edged things lately. I just ordered a suit on-line last week. Assuming I like it on me as much as I liked it on-line, I will have become a “St. John girl”. Also, a friend offered to let me purchase a vintage full length mink coat at a discount.

When I tried on the coat, I didn’t feel matronly. I felt glamorous and beautiful. The coat fit me. And although I didn’t buy it, I could finally see myself as someone who owned a full length mink. Despite my new views about St. John and mink coats, I still don’t feel like I am in the league of my mother and those other accomplished women. I suppose that makes sense though. Being grown up has more to do with how you feel than what you wear anyway.

Unlikely Friendships...

Friendship is a funny thing. It frequently has no clear beginning and no clear end. Often the relationship evolves from acquaintance to friend without anyone realizing that the friendship threshold was crossed. Sometimes though, someone might consider you to be a friend without your knowledge.

The other day, I helped one of the workers in our building access resources to resolve a legal problem. I didn’t provide him with any legal advice. And I didn’t do anything all that special. However, he greatly appreciated my help. He thanked me after I gave him the information. Then, he smiled sincerely. He told me that he promised his family that he would obtain an answer because, “my friend is a lawyer.”

I was surprised that he had referred to me as a friend. I smile at him and chat with him when I see him. However, I always referred to those conversations as simple pleasantries. I never considered that fodder as the foundation of a friendship. For that reason, his comment touched me.

I used to be suspicious about comments like this. However, I have evolved. Being an attorney, even with all of its challenges, is a position of honor. However, being called someone’s friend is an even greater honor.

To whom much is given, much is required. And so, even though I didn’t consider him to be a friend, I helped him. It cost me nothing, except time. I generally minimize my kind gestures. However, I am beginning to think that these kind gestures are expressions of friendship.

Some friends call you to gossip, some party with you, and some simply wish you well from afar. However, there are some friends who show up and help you when you need them. Each type of friend plays a role. I glad that I was able to play the role that he needed when he needed it.

Apparently, I live in “Cougar Town”…

The other night I watched Courtney Cox’s new show “Cougar Town”. A “cougar” is a middle aged woman who is on the prowl and tends to date much younger men. The show stays the course. Courtney plays a forty year old divorcée who is scared to be alone and is searching for love. In the first episode she takes home a guy who is in his twenties and gets to “know” him.

The show is full of clichés about the plight of older women on the dating market, middle aged men who are only interested in dating younger women, and how older women are always on the prowl. The show may only last one season, but the topic is intriguing.

Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher inspire women around the globe. Even though she is nearly old enough to be his mother they are married; he is hot; and they look really happy. The appearance of love tends to quiet the critics.

I don’t have to look at celebrities to understand. Two of the happiest married women that I know are married to younger men. Also, several of my single friends have aged well. When they go out they attract men who are from 25-50. I am no different. I have dated men who could be my father and those who have been quite a bit younger. One of the beauties of being in your thirties is that you can go either way.

I have never bought into stereotypes though. I date who I like. I acknowledge that when my actions fit squarely into a stereotype I draw attention and comment. However, I don’t like when people minimize my relationships by reducing them to a cliché. Accordingly, I objected to people calling my rich, older boyfriend my “Sugar Daddy” as much as I have resented people assuming that I am dating a younger man because he can bounce quarters off of his abs.

Since I have been happy with my decisions, I have endured the chiding. I blush when accused of engaging in certain activities. And, I politely decline to answer nosey questions.

I understand why people comment though. Being happy tends to draw attention.

Th truth is, dating has been the same for me since I was eighteen. A guy was attracted to me. He acted on it. I said "yes". And the relationship took off from there. I am no more on the prowl now than I was then.

That being said, I’ll continue to watch “Cougar Town”. At the end of the day, she is looking for love. And that is something that I can identify with.

A wonderful trip to San Juan...

I recently returned from the most beautiful vacation in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The island is amazing. The sights, sounds, and smell of the island transported me to a more peaceful place. Me encanta!

The sun is bright. The beaches are full of white sand. And, the sky is majestic. I enjoyed the kind of vacation that makes you want to remain in paradise forever.

My enjoyment outweighed all of the sand bites that populate my body like a game of connect the dots. I am very aware that the minor annoyance of itchiness could have been the pain of a jelly fish sting that some other hotel guests encountered.

Quite frankly, the fun has overshadowed the minor inconveniences that come with travel. Instead, my mind is full of those things that make me smile. Here’s looking forward to my next vacation…

Live, love, and write...

Tonight I came home from work and did something that I rarely do. I donned my jeans refreshed my makeup and went out for an adult evening.

I treated myself to a lecture. Elizabeth Gilbert, the talented author of Eat, Pray, and Love was speaking. That book was about her transformation after a divorce. She read from an upcoming book about her views on marriage. I enjoyed the event. Her writing style and her subject matter resonates with me. However, more than anything, her personal story speaks to me.

She took a journey of self-discovery and wrote a memoir that captivated women all over the world. I desperately want to write a book. I have a story within me that have yet to be told, several stories in fact.

I would write a novel but my own life fascinates me to the point of distraction.

I have loved. I have lost. I have learned the lessons. I have had the courage to take chances. And I have allowed fear to paralyze me. I realize that I have been feeling, praying, and loving my way to my best life. Someday, I will arrive.

At the end of the day, I hope that I retain a fundamental connection with my soul and that others will be inspired by my story. Stay tuned. This blog will chronicle the journey until the book comes out!