I have a friend who holds her troubles close to her heart. Foolishly, I’ve tried amateur “shrinkage” with her, pointing out how much worse off so-and-so is, to which she replies, “Her troubles don’t make mine hurt any less.” I respond with a weak, “Yes, but…” and hold my tongue. I know I cannot get into the depths of anyone else’s heart. And I respect and acknowledge her genuine hurt and certainly listen to her litany of miseries without judgment.

But I am here to tell you that, for me, there is nothing but gratitude when I know that so-and-so faces far worse challenges than do I.

My husband just emerged from a month of harrowing health problems, at one point, experiencing life-threatening complications. At each crisis in this saga, I found something to be grateful for. The care he received during his three-week stay in the ICU and subsequent stay in a room at West Boca Medical Center could not have been better. Each nurse went beyond the call of “duty” and treated him as the human being he is, rather than the patient in room number XXXX. I cannot rave enough about the quality of professional nursing care he received. And this, I must say, surprised the heck out of me, as I had anticipated a “rag doll” approach to his care. His doctors were (all 8 of them) responsive to my every question and telephone call. Again, a surprise, as I hear so many complaints about healthcare services and doctors in particular.

His eventual release to the rehab facility at Regents Park in Boca was also an unanticipated pleasant – as much as such an experience CAN be pleasant – surprise, as we encountered a staff – at every level of service – of helpful, smiling, cooperative people dedicated to making his stay as positive as possible.

This probably sounds like some kind of paid advertisement – but, it is really an expression of gratitude.

So many of us are quick to complain when we receive rotten service, but never bother to convey accolades when they are deserved.

And as my husband finally made his way around the rehab facility, first, as I pushed him in a wheelchair, and then on a walker, and as we observed so many of the residents in a state of semi-consciousness and helplessness with vacant stares and hopeless affect, we became acutely aware of what “worse” really is.

We may still have to endure “worse” at some future time, but for now, he anticipates coming home soon in a state of relative independence. A month out of our lives, with moments of panic, is little in the scheme of things when there is light at the end of that tunnel, light that many people do not have.

This is all about gratitude.

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

www.emilyrosen424.com

I am the female half of a mixed marriage. It wasn’t always thus. My husband converted from the political party of our youthful courtship to “the other.” I have remained more or less in the fold – leaning toward independent.

I’ll be honest. This is not a particularly bonding situation. It has had two significant effects. One is good. One is not-so.

I’ll work backwards. In the “not-so” category, whenever he begins to spew “talking points” and arguments of personal destruction, I simply walk out of the room. However, when he is rational and honest and I hear the words coming from a sincere belief system, he opens my mind to thoughtful re-evaluation of my own long term DNA-held positions that I grant are more emotional than rational.

As a people, we desperately need to acknowledge that deeply-held, sincere convictions exist on both sides of every issue.

And aside from motivations of greed, political advantage, power plays and extreme hubris, it is a healthy environment that encourages civil dissent and the articulation of

reasons behind positions that are divergent.

Trouble is most people come to politics from places other than thought and study and true understanding of issues. They/we are influenced first by parental upbringing, then by community of peers and, then, by a combination of personal experiences, influential mentors, intensive readings and the media.

Wouldn’t you love to hear an intelligent debate by candidates on the role of government in society – including where and why there should be limitations, logical and without rancor?

And wouldn’t you love to hear an intelligent debate – without name calling and attributions of ill will – on the subject of healthcare, including how to balance the limit of expenditures with the needs of an ever long-living society?

And how about a quiet and thoughtful two-way discussion on immigration policy, balancing the practical societal problems presented by illegal entry, the obstacles to legitimate citizenship and the demand by industry for low-wage workers?

And, although it is commonly acknowledged that the U.S. is way down on the ladder of well-educated citizens, those required to meet the needs of a global economy, we have not

yet acted on the many proposals to bring us up to par. And how do we secure an ever-collapsing infrastructure?

I truly believe that, with passions set aside, there will be more theoretical agreements than anyone can now envision. Where, other than in highbrow think tank circles, are these issues, and other significant ones, brought to the average “Joe” and “Josie” in independent nonpartisan venues?

This “rant” is a plea for balance, open mindedness and acknowledgement of some merit to the position of “the other.” We know that, in the months to come, we will be bombarded (tortured?) with attack ads from both sides. We know that they will include exaggerations, words taken out of context, some downright deliberate distortions of facts and, no doubt, a good percentage of fear mongering. Both sides will be equally responsible for distribution of divisive material. While we’re waiting – let’s just listen – to the other side.

I came late to K-cups and I’m not talking about brassieres. K-cups is the not-so-new-craze in single coffee-making originated by the Keurig coffee maker.

I hope I won’t be handcuffed for this, but I am not much of a coffee drinker.

Recently, however, at the home of a friend – mixing after lunch with about a dozen people, we were offered coffee – one at a time.  Regular? Decaf?  Hazelnut? French Vanilla?  Etc. One at a time … so many choices.

One at a time. In this instance, it took what seemed like forever for all of us to get the coffee of our choice, although the hostess, busy “manning” the machine, assured each of us that it only takes a few seconds as we stood in line waiting for our cup of choice. Right!  One cup only. If we wanted a second, it just wasn’t worth the trouble. Yes, I know. She could well have made a single large pot, but she chose single individual … one at a time … choice.

And that got me to thinking about the duality this presents. What a schizophrenic society this is. How very much we are into “singleness,” and yet how we reach out for “groupness.”

We talk on our cell phones, privately. No one else picks up MY phone. We huddle alone at the computer (or smart phone or iPad) and privately communicate by e-mail, text, and whatever new cyber connector appears almost daily. We “Facebook” with the world – alone. Even as we “link in,” we do it alone.

Our smart phones provide us with total connectedness, even as we experience it while alone. And we can opt for our coffee maker to brew, in a second, one cup of our choice. The dichotomy of this seemingly seamless blending of singleness, while operating within a group, is a phenomenon that probably will be researched by social scientists into the next millennium. What does it mean for society?

The collective unconscious has fallen into a complex state of duality. I am reminded of the words to an old Jimmy Durante song: “Did you ever have the feeling that you wanted to go – and still have the feeling that you wanted to stay?”

It seems that in our new social contract, people have the feeling that they “vant to be alone,” while they still have the feeling that they want to be part of a group. And, indeed, we cannot be sure if the new technology is a response to that need – or if the new technology gave us permission to pursue what had merely been a dormant yearning. But it is more and more apparent that – alone, we are connected. And, in that “connection,” the 21st Century now gives us such a basketful of choices on every level of our knowable life that it allows us to maintain a certain emotional distance, while still finding ourselves “engaging” in what some people have called “sterile” relationships.

I know I am not the first person to take note of this. My grandkids’ generation will be working on it long after I’m gone. Meanwhile, enjoy your K-cup.

I am e-mailing my Brazilian friend concerning the state of  U. S. politics. She’s lived here for over 25 years and is a U.S. citizen. Her 15-year-old son was born here, but the family has strong ties to Brazil. They visit there annually and sometimes more frequently, and relatives come here often.

Referring to her son, she writes, “Joe is so confused. He thought that bad politicians only lived in Brazil, not here. It is a reality shock for him and he gets depressed about it.  He loves this country so much.”

I am not sure what Joe meant by “bad politicians,” except from a 15-year-old perspective, watching the debates, the accusations and, recently in Florida, the constant TV harangues  and robocalls, it might be really difficult to claw through all that rubble  and arrive at a rational assessment  of each candidate. So here’s how I responded to my friend’s email:

“Tell Joe that this spectacle is what makes America great! The fact that these candidates can get up there and say whatever they want – and then actually be fact-checked, as they are by the media, and also the fact that the general hubbub of excitement exists without violence or muzzling  –  is the genius of our country.

And warn him that the political front will become even more bizarre when a candidate is actually selected, as we observe the rejected ones rallying to support the chosen one. It’s a good show. This is how it works , with many flaws that, hopefully, will  get fixed, eventually.

Remind him that things do get fixed here. Women got the vote. African Americans gained civil rights.  Gays are accepted in the military and, sooner or later, we’ll reform our tax code, as well as the electoral college system, our immigration policy, and the series of entitlements that no longer work for the good of the many. Perhaps, we will reform the way political campaigns are financed. Joe will be witness to all of that, and might even want to become proactive in the implementation of one or more of those reforms to the system.

We work slowly for change here because we have extremes of opinion and philosophy, and we encourage articulation of many viewpoints even as we manage to live peacefully together despite vast differences.

And you might also mention to Joe that the kind of circus we are witnessing during this primary season has brought politics and issues to the national forefront in a way that previous sleepy primaries have not done. Therefore, there is considerably more interest generated among young people and the population in general. Of course, this is a good thing. And give him a hug for me. I’m thrilled to know that he is engaging in the process, as every citizen should be doing.”

By Emily Rosen

Politics, politics, 24 seven

That’s what it looked like in twenty eleven

Auspicious beginning in terms of locution

On the floor of the house – the U.S. Constitution

Two days after that came a kook with a gun

Causing havoc in Tucson with folks on the run

Congressional Gabby was shot in the head

Some even died leaving blood, shock and dread

At the State of the Union, Ds and Rs sat together

But their bonding was not even strong as a feather

Then a sudden eruption —  an Arab decree

In Tunisia, then Egypt,  folks marched to be free

Mubarak stepped down in a possible sting

And momentum was there for the Arab Spring

While the State of Wisconsin struck out against strikes

 As unions and allies “Facebooked” “unlikes”

In Japan, a disaster that rendered it bleak

With an earthquake that triggered a nuclear leak

‘Twas “the budget” and Libya both in the news

 Gaddafi – Paul Ryan – were singing the blues

There was rapture, of course, midst the angst of the world

When Willie and Katie took vows and then twirled

Tornadoes moved Southward, but still NASA launched

As Birthers held doubts that were ever so staunch

And Lo! and Behold! Out of Af-ghan-is-tan

Came the news that we rubbed out Bin Laden,  “The Man”

A love-child from Arnold, and Weiner showed pix

Ruppert Murdoch in scandal – the world needs a fix!

Bibi in congress – Obama feels stalked

But gays can get married, at last, in New York

The Anthony trial was an endless distraction

‘Til they called her “not guilty”  for an O.J. reaction

Terror in Oslo, riots in London

While the S & P here found its credit was undone

Over 600 points as the market got clobbered.

When folks checked their statements, they probably slobbered

Gaddafi got ousted. It just took so long

And, in D.C., an earthquake, though not very strong

Only days before blustering winds brought “Irene”

And destruction that lingered for days at the scene

Finally got rid of Don’t ask, Don’t tell

Banishing fears that we’ll all go to hell

Trump, Christie, Palin all out of the race

While a whole crowd of others took up in that space

Like the “Lock Box” of yore for which none of us pine

Instead, we were subject to “nine, nine and nine”

Never immune from crass degradation

Came Penn State and Syracuse sex allegations

Occupy Wall Street folks spread out their cause

As dollars for Bankers flowed in without pause

The Super Committee broke up with folks pissed

With blame on the pledge made to Grover Norquist

Cain down in flames as more women “alleged”

And when Trump made an offer, most candidates hedged

Corzine is clueless how billions got lost

Dr. Conrad “killed” Michael – in jail he was tossed

The e-world and iWorld invaded by mobs

Despite that, we’ve suffered the loss of Steve Jobs

The iphone, the ipad, much more is predicted

To tweeting and texting we’re getting addicted

As I write this – there’s 20 days more I must shelve

‘til we greet the unknowable year 2012

Which surely by all we can fathom from here

Will be a real blockbuster type of a year.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

He’s standing against the wall, arms hanging, hands clasped, as if protecting his genitals. I advance toward the checkout desk with my library books. His eye spots me, and he leaps to attention in a quick sudden move. “Have you ever used the self check, mam?”

“Mmm. Yes,” I say hesitantly. There’s no one in line. The librarians are at the ready to help me. “We’re trying to train our customers to use the self check,” he said in a low conspiratorial voice.

And with meticulous attention, he helps me adjust the bar codes under the electronic light until all have been recorded and my receipt appears.

“We’re training the people to eliminate our jobs,” he said without rancor, just in case I hadn’t caught on to the implication of his original explanation.

And so it goes in this wonderful world of automation. I can self check-out at Target, Costco and some Publixes. I can check in at airport kiosks and, for about 30 years, I have been pumping my own gas.

As fast as any government or privately-sponsored program can create jobs, automation is eliminating jobs. And, as government shrinks, we will surely find an overabundance of unemployed government workers.  It seems like a widespread game of musical chairs.  It’s no news that we are living in the most agonizingly long transition period as traditional jobs shrink.

So, in an attempt to be supportive, I thought I’d rustle up  some  information that might be helpful for future career planning. Of course, if your career has already spanned a lifetime, perhaps you might share some of these gems with your progeny. (We all know how much “progeny” likes advice, but you might just try!)

Job title:

E-Scrubber – works to undo or minimize the indiscretions that people accumulate on the web.

Deceptionist – Provides tech-enabled deception services for those wishing to disguise their activities.

Geoscraper – Makes corporate and private properties look attractive in Google-earth style aerial views.

Unplugger – Mental health professional who helps wean people from excessive use of technology.

If your expertise doesn’t qualify you for any of the above, to continue the automation trend, here are some things I found on a Google list that have yet to be totally automated. Some clever inventor or entrepreneur might figure out how to close the gap here,  thus eliminating all housekeeping jobs: making the bed;  ironing clothes; cleaning; dusting; vacuuming  with the flip of a switch or the clap of two hands (yes yes, I know about the automatic vacuum – but what about dusting?); helping the kids with homework? No! It was on the list, but let’s never eliminate THAT, although, admittedly, it’s getting to be more and more of a challenge.

Jobs, jobs, jobs. We lose them. We create them. We mix and match them. Where will my library friend go when all of us folks approach the automatic machines and check out by ourselves?

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

www.emilyrosen424.com

In a recent column in The New York Times, David Brooks exhorted his readers over 70 to write a brief  report of their life, an evaluation of what they did well, and not so well, and what they have learned. His purpose: young people are given little help in understanding how life develops, how careers and families evolve, and what are the common mistakes and blessings of adulthood. He asked that readers send their “Life Reports” to him at dabrooks@nytimes.com. Here’s mine.

With a solid set of middle class American-born parents, I graduated from college with a double degree in Journalism and Marketing, determined to save the world. I believed that we could persuade the Soviet Union to engage with us in such a Utopia and I became enmeshed with the gurus of the United World Federalists. Subsequently, I marched with all the flavor-of-the-month “rights” protesters and attended “rah-rah” meetings that validated the righteousness of the causes.

Youth is like that … often, all passion and rage and righteousness … and if not then – when?

I worked as an editorial assistant at several magazines, fell in love with my married bosses, became a Madison Avenue huckster, touting stockings and corn flakes and came to a dead career stop when I saw the inanity of my life.

With a new degree, in education, I would save the world by educating the young Puerto Rican immigrants flooding into the Upper West Side of Manhattan. My first year, I cried every day on the bus ride home. I couldn’t understand why Hector refused to read “Dick and Jane,” while insisting on creating clay images of male anatomy. I suspect that today he is one of the world’s great sculptors.

Married with two children, I worked in the original Head Start program. The government threw tons of money at us – much of which we didn’t need. My job was replaced by two PhDs and a plethora of useless inventory.

Again, back to school for degrees in Special Ed, and then Mental Health Counseling and some brief work counseling alcohol-addicted teenagers.

In a complete turnaround, I retreated to “Stepford Wifery,” country club dinner dances, golf, tennis, PTA. My husband’s career took off. We had money to burn, a second home in Florida, we traveled the world.

I became a columnist for a local newspaper and was once assigned to interview the wife of an upcoming politico who was in town fundraising for her husband. I refused the assignment because I had a tennis game and figured she was a nobody. Alas, Hillary Clinton never met me, and I never hit the glass ceiling.

With an entrepreneurial friend, we formed a singing telegram business, the rage gift for the folks who “had everything.” Success to the max, and, after about 10 years, I sold it, and turned it into Personalized Poetry for all occasions… “We write ‘em, you recite ‘em.”

In 1994, in our late 60s, we moved to Florida, “retired.” What do I do now?

Here is where I found my true calling, volunteering in a mental health facility and in a non-partisan political organization, writing this column and book reviews, reading prodigiously, teaching  a writing workshop with emphasis on personal insight into feelings and behaviors, publishing two anthologies of work of my students, riding my bike, walking the beach, enjoying my family and griping about what’s wrong with the world.

I’ve had disappointments, loss and sickness, and suffered significant economic downturn. But I never stop being grateful. The most important thing I learned is to recognize the difference between reasonable expectations and realistic ones. I’ve trained myself to have realistic expectations – the reasonable ones are mostly disappointing, and rarely come through. I’ve been married 57 years, and what I learned from that is for a big fat book.

In any one week, I can feel extremes of high and lows, I can love and hate the same person, I can feel good and bad about myself (No, I’m not schizophrenic.) It all balances out, and a good laugh fans all flames. And I accept that, in the end, everyone dies.

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

www.emilyrosen424.com

iTunes – iPhones – iPods – iPads … Eye yi yi yi! Kindle – Kindle Touch – Kindle Keyboard – Kindle Fire – The Nook – The all-new Nook – the Droid – touch pads – swipe pads – 3G – 4G – apps – more apps – Xbox – Wii and blogs, blogs, blogs …  OMG! There’s a whole new language sprouting up all around me. HELP! I feel like I’m standing at a train station, and the express has just whizzed by me – and oops! That was my train and I missed it.

On a scale of 1 to 10 regarding cyberspace, I’ve slid to about a 5. Twenty-six years ago, I was cutting edge, the only person I knew who owned, and could use a computer, my trusty 1985 Mac, full price about $6,000.  I could not even carry on a dinner conversation about my computer because there was no one who could talk the language. I probably should have kept it. Someone on eBay could be looking for it.

Today, I am working with Windows XP on my flat screen desk computer – probably the eighth one I have owned, exclusive of my husband’s laptop.  I love my mouse. As I stare at it, I feel like I’m looking at the tail of a Dinosaur.  It’s two years old. People around me are swiping and pad-touching and sending me email messages from Blackberries and iPhones  and text messages about sunsets, about walks with their dogs and urging me to find them on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn.

Every two weeks or so, I check on LinkedIn and find only people who want to sell me their wares or who complain about the sorry state of Journalism today. I haven’t checked my Twitter account for two years. And when I go to my Facebook page, I find a bunch of people I don’t even know, showing me pictures of their pet poodles in costume or their adorable grandkids, or their Harley Davidson’s. Some of them exhort me to check their YouTube creations, where I am urged to engage in a more spiritual life, to love my neighbors and, more important, to love myself (I do, I do!).

Where is this all going? I know we are only on the cusp now. I read The Futurist. I follow some of the work of Ray Kurzweil – Google him!

(Google is happiness!)  – a scientist, futurist, who sees humans living for many hundreds of years by 2029, encased in myriad robotic body parts. Robotic genitalia? Lord – take that image off my radar screen!

Ah, but I’ve wandered afar. I intended to make this a treatise on eBooks. It looks like the new Kindle can do everything except make pizzas, and I am about to succumb. If you can’t fight ‘em, join ‘em, but I’ll never catch that train.

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

www.emilyrosen424.com

Time for a break, for a bit of fluff. Time to get away from “serious.”

Venus de Milo lovers seem to be in a conspiracy these days to “make it up to her.” She, without arms; and they “all arms.”  Was it Michelle Obama who set the style? I am not a fashionista, but just take a watch at live TV these days. All one sees in female fashion is  – arms. I guess one could say, “We’re a nation up in arms!”

While once, women were ashamed to expose their flab, today, bare arms are waved at the public like American Flags. Some of us are still around to remember the sheath on very young women from “Mad Men” days. Seems they never left the racks.

Here is what I don’t understand, and perhaps it has something to do with my own body thermostat. All hot summer long, one would think that TV studios would be an icy haven, a low temperature cocoon in which to work.  So where are the goose bumps? None! Smooth, well-creamed, visibly “abbed” arms. Okay – so maybe they are all workout gals. But aren’t they COLD?

I, for one, never walk into any air conditioned place without some kind of wrap for my cold, flabby arms, which are usually concealed anyway. Have I committed the chic-crime of the century  by choosing  function over fashion?

So I’m thinking that, in this draggy economy, these folks are buying half a dress. Perhaps, they are looking to save money. The sleeve-material from five dresses could easily make another dress, especially as necklines keep dropping, thus saving another couple of yards. But, alas, no! The cost of sleeveless dresses does not in any way reflect the reduced cost of material. Bummer!

I do, however, plan to keep a sharp winter watch on arms. Unless TV studios broadcast from below the equator, I’m thinking that sooner or later, these TV ladies will need a cover up. Of course, as the winter political season heats up, there may be enough hot air in cable and news studios to keep bare-armed women warm. Who knows?

Next time, I plan to get serious.

By Emily Rosen

ERosen424@aol.com

www.emilyrosen424.com

It was the worst of times! It was the worst of times … except this Pollyana sees a sliver of “Best.”

Chaos at the Capitol, weeks of wrangling, deals made, deals fade. Leaders dashing in and out of closed doors, hallways, talk shows, anywhere but home, at all hours of the night – pontifications to the max. By Sunday, both Republicans and Democrats were squealing, almost in unison, “Just get it done already!”

Despite the rancor, the accusations, the finger pointing, the political sashaying, it was obvious that the main spokespeople for both points of view felt equally passionate and righteous about their principles, even as bundles of lobbying dollars were securely tucked in their coiffeurs.

But you don’t go to the Capitol to sit on your principles without budging. And with a ticking time-clock snapping at their heels, an exhausted Congress made a deal that everyone basically hated, the operative words being – “made a deal.”

For sure, we don’t know what will happen in the days to come, what follow-up clashes we’ll see, how the “committee” will work, but for now I think we’d be smart to take another look at how we got to where we are and to take big note of what did not happen.

As dysfunctional as it seemed, a certain (limited) civility was present. Rules were adhered to. Procedures were respected. And major ideological diversities were recognized, and accepted as being the fabric of our country. The folks who espouse them will never stop attempting to bring the opposition into their camp – with big mouths and rhetoric, and, yes, and, alas, dollars, but not with guns and torture.

If you are not a political junkie (as I am), you missed probably the most exciting news day of modern memory this past Sunday. It made every political movie and TV sitcom look like waiting for the fish to bite. And powering all the frenetic activity, and blowhard commentary, was the basic truth that the balance between spending and revenue in our country is askew and has been for decades. It was much too easy to slide by when there was no crisis looming.

No leader, no party  and no disinterested citizen is immune to blame. Admittedly, some of the numbered details concerning this stuff is a cure for insomnia, but these past few weeks have been a jolting wake-up call.

We are a country bursting with diversity, changing at speeds heretofore unknown, and if we don’t accept that compromise is what holds us together, then we are doomed … to extinction … or bloody revolution.

The best of times? Maybe not quite, but surely not what the naysayers have put out there. History has chronicled the demise of many great civilizations. It’s possible that this seeming debacle has put the brakes on our journey in that direction.