Pink, It’s Not Just for Girls Anymore

You don’t need a calendar to determine the season. Simply watch the décor at retailers. Pink, yellow and green – it’s April. Red, white and blue – July. Orange and black – October. Green and red – December. And if the Ravens are doing well – its Purple Friday here in Baltimore each week in January.

In recent years, pink has replaced orange in October, for Breast Cancer Awareness month. Store windows, publications and numerous products, sport pink ribbons or new pink packaging to raise money and awareness.

Pink controversy has arisen with one non-profit’s sale of pink cancer awareness bracelets reading: “I love Boobies.” Designed to raise teen awareness of Breast Cancer and spark conversation, these bracelets are popping up in middle schools and high schools across the country. The campaign is working, but the conversation is not. Schools are banning them and civil rights activists are rallying.

Teenage boys, in many schools, outnumber teenage girls wearing the “I love Boobies” bracelets. Do some have other motives?
Of course they do, they’re teenagers. That is to be expected.
Take the conversation off the words and onto the topic. Breast Cancer kills over 40,000 women each year – mothers, sisters, daughters, friends, neighbors.

I urge school administrators to keep talking, but talk about early detection, treatment and research, not about dress codes and foul language. Boobies, breasts, bust, bosom – these are not dirty words. I say let the boys wear bracelets!

Privacy Stays Grounded at Take-off

The proximity of fellow travelers on an airplane can invite the uninvited, not only into your personal space, but also into your life.

I tend to be a loner on a plane. I read a book, watch the in-flight movie or take a nap, rarely initiating small talk with my neighbor inches away. A gentleman seated at my left elbow once shared his penchant for Sudoku. Confessing he wasn’t very good at it, he proceeded to give me “helpful tips” as I quietly worked my puzzle. Thanks, I think.

When there’s little turbulence, I like to pop down the seat-tray and play Solitaire. Eyes routinely wander over and folks just can’t help but chime in with strategy points. Solitaire is a singular game, by definition, one might think. Not true, when quarters are close.

I’m flying to Denver tomorrow, Los Angeles and Rochester later this fall. I’ll be bringing a deck of cards, Sudoku and a new book to read. Everyone keeps telling me to buy a Kindle, but I’m afraid I’ll find my neighbors reading along. A gal needs a little privacy every now and then, even on an airplane.

Hope for a Monstrosity You Can Live With

Time has proven that change is generally good for us, whether that change is in our national government, in our cities or in our own backyards.

My neighbors in Towson, Maryland are up in arms over a proposed expansion of the sports arena at Towson University. The planned “monstrosity” (as a friend refers to it) looms over a nearby residential neighborhood, one where I use to live. The University President spoke at a gathering last night, reminding attendees that TU has been a good neighbor over the decades. He implied it was time for local residents to be a little more neighborly in return.

Someone really needs to have a little chat with that man. The old “you catch more bees with honey” speech might do him some good right about now.

That said, sports is big business. Our economy needs jobs and companies willing to invest in the future. Here, we have a strong local institution that is expanding rather than shrinking. Perhaps they should build this new grand arena, but who am I to say? It’s not in my back yard.

I don't think the real issue is about whether the arena expansion is a good idea. I think the real issue is about being heard. So often, people push their own agendas, rather than considering compromises that address valid concerns. In the end, I believe the greater good of economic stimulation will prevail. I just hope the neighbors end up with a monstrosity they can live with.

There’s a petition circulating to stop TU. I’ll probably sign it – in solidarity with my former neighbors. But I can’t help thinking about a story I heard last week.

A friend shared how an elderly relative, a native Baltimorean, was up in arms 25 years ago over a proposed new development in downtown Baltimore. She couldn’t understand why everyone wanted to renovate the Inner Harbor. She thought the proposed National Aquarium was a ridiculous notion. “If I want to see fish – I’ll go to Woolworths!” she said.

Paper or Plastic?

When asked, “Which is better to bag your groceries, paper or plastic?” a local environmentalist replied, “which ever you will use again.”

Many of you know, I went “green” this Christmas. I sent an e-mail instead of a Holiday card. I made donations to local charities in lieu of gifts. I turned conference giveaways into stocking stuffers. This, by the way, was a big hit at my house – I am a discerning shopper on the conference trade show circuit.

I didn’t expect everyone was going this route, but I did think most people were on the recycle bandwagon. Municipal trash pick-up has included a recycling schedule for a decade. Who doesn’t recycle?

A lot of my neighbors, apparently. When I dragged my boxes and bottles out to the alley last week, I took a look around. Only one other home had placed recycling out for pick up. Don't tell my kids, because I told them recycling was mandatory. Well it is - in my house.

I wondered, how many other neighborhoods look like this? Scan your alleys and sidewalks next week and send me a tally. Is it really just my neighborhood? I’d like to get a handle on this sad state of affairs.

At a time when many companies are making green practices common in the workplace, I certainly hope folks are not trading off on the home front. Choosing between paper or plastic does not matter, whether you reuse, recycle and reduce does.

Let the Geese Speak

Some people count sheep to fall asleep. Some walk their dog for daily exercise. Others gaze at fish circling in an aquarium to relieve stress. Animals serve as helpmates and friends in many ways.

I write to the melodic sounds of honking geese. I kid you not. Somewhere in my suburban Towson neighborhood lives a gaggle of geese. I’m not sure exactly where they live or when they came, but I first heard the commotion about 3 months ago. The geese don't host loud honking parties every day. But when they gather, their din is comparable to a room full of teenage girls. Slightly distracting, but oddly comforting, in their familiar animated manner. My new neighbors provide a welcome distraction.

Do you have the scoop on these odd Towson pets? I’d love to hear. Their unusual choice of a home must have a story. One day, I may head out back and track down the location of such clamor. Dig at the truth for myself. For now, I simply write and enjoy the lively company they provide.

Are you called to be a Helicopter Parent?

I wanted to be a Helicopter Parent – really I did.

I wanted to read every book the English teacher ever assigned, so I could have discussions with my son at the dinner table. I wanted to bone up on my algebra and geometry, so I could check my daughter's math homework for accuracy. I just didn’t have the time.

I wanted to be at school every day helping out in the office or in the art room. I wanted to be the volunteer parent who knows all the teachers and administrators by name. I had to be at work instead.

I wanted to be the parent who called the teacher to task when they treated a child unfairly. I wanted to say “Hey – I know your job is tough, but can you try a little harder, because these are our children.” My children asked me to me keep my mouth shut.

I couldn’t be a Helicopter Parent, but I’m glad someone was there to answer the call.

Baby boomers have brought a lot of improvements to parenting – relationships are more open and honest. Tough topics are discussed, rather than hidden in the closet. Parents are more proactive. They no longer release their children to the unknown at school, on the sports field or elsewhere, trusting the best will happen. When they send their babies off to college, they don’t simply cross their fingers and pray. Now, the connections remain and the discussions continue.

I do still highly recommend crossing your fingers and praying when you send them off to college. With such abounding freedom, much can happen when you’re not around.

Sure, some parents go overboard. I’ve heard the stories of parents confronting coaches about playing time, challenging teachers on their choices of test questions or contacting bosses about performance reviews. But let’s put this in perspective. Going a bit overboard is not unique to parenting.

Have you seen the folks with way too many Christmas decorations on their lawns? Did you ever have a neighbor who took in every stray cat she found? Who doesn’t have a friend or colleague who is a tad over-attentive to their car?

I think Helicopter Parents have gotten a bad rap. Quite frankly, I thank them - for insisting on accountability, fairness and honesty. Applied in moderation, they can be quite beneficial. It’s too late for me to become a Helicopter Parent, my kids are almost grown. But it might not be too late for you.

Mystery of the Disappearing Mailboxes

Someone please explain the mystery of the disappearing mailboxes. What brilliant bureaucrat decided a swift and stealthy removal was necessary?

In case you are reading this from afar, I live in Baltimore. Towson to be exact. Our local U.S. Post Office decided to remove some 30 blue steel mailboxes from perches in neighborhoods around town. They simply disappeared. Overnight. No warning. No discussions. No community meetings. Just gone.

Don’t get me wrong – I applaud their effort to reduce wasteful spending. Apparently many of these boxes were underutilized. I support attempts to conserve gasoline resources and reduce vehicle emissions. No more driving around town to empty these mailboxes twice a day. The decision for a covert removal is where my problem lies. Are we 3 years old? Do you have to hide the pacifier to wean us?

The brilliant bureaucrat who devised this plan was right in one respect. Residents were not going to like it. People were going to stomp their feet, whine a little, and perhaps cry. Hey buddy - you work for the Federal Government, is this something new? You couldn’t come up with a better plan than tip toe into the nursery and snatch the security blanket from the crib?

If you don’t want us to act like 3-year olds, don’t treat us like 3-year olds. We get it. We can do the math. We understand the economics of “reduce.” It would have been nice if someone had given us a little notice. Or (gasp) given us a voice in the decision-making process.

Next time, just put on your big boy panties please and treat us like adults.

It's the Neighbors, again!

Neighbors are like relatives – you don’t get to choose them. For better or for worse, you’re stuck with them. You could opt to move, but that’s a pretty expensive approach to divorce yourself from an unsavory relative.

Most neighborhoods have their share of Sloppy Neighbors. The ones who don’t mow their grass quite often enough, leave the newspapers to biodegrade on the front lawn and assume the wind will take care of those fallen leaves. These folks are most likely to wait for the snow to melt rather than shovel their sidewalk. I suppose these aren’t such horrible crimes. Though, I feel bad for the mailman, on those slippery snowy days.

Life can get pretty dicey when you have an Inconsiderate Neighbor. The one constantly borrows but rarely returns or returns items broken, without a word about replacing them. I had neighbors once who played the stereo loud enough for me to hear in my yard, 2 doors down. This would not have been so bad if I actually shared their taste in music. I’ve even had neighbors who’s teens routinely bickered, loud enough to hear all the way across the street. (OK, maybe that was my kids . . . . . . . nobody’s a perfect neighbor, after all.)

Have you ever had Feuding Neighbors? Now there’s a real treat. Feuding Neighbors typically emerge when a Judgmental Neighbor is in your midst. You know, the one who “owns” the block and feels a sense of duty to keep all in his territory “as it should be.” Just mix a Judgmental Neighbor with an Inconsiderate or Sloppy one and they'll be no need to wait for the 4th of July to see fireworks.

Do you have a Nosey Neighbor? The one who watches every move on the block and reports perceived transgressions to anyone who’ll listen. Nosey neighbors are actually my favorite. They keep me on my toes, preventing me from becoming the sloppy or inconsiderate member of the community. And they watch my house. I love my nosey neighbor, God bless her soul. She's always helping me out. Once, she clued me in to a party my teenager had one weekend in my absence. My sneaky teen never did find out how I knew. Thus, I was able to continue my oft-repeated assertion “Mommies know everything.”

So tell me - how do you get along with your neighbors? Is it All in the Family, Father Knows Best, Family Feud or Divorce Court? Please, do share.