Dear Women, Sometimes you will just be too much woman. Too Smart. Too beautiful. Too strong. Too much of something. That makes a man feel less of of a man, which will start making you feel like you have to be less of a woman. The biggest mistake you can make is removing jewels from your crown to make it easier for a man to carry. When this happens, I need you to understand, you do not need a smaller crown , you need a man with bigger hands.
Michael E. Reid
Above is a poem I wrote my senior year in high school in 2005 when asked to describe myself. I took the opportunity to highlight my many strengths and showcase that no one can easily be placed in a box. We are all unique and have multiple interests and sides that not everyone gets to see all at once. The only way to truly get to know a person is spend time with them in different environments around various people. I am proud to say that today at the age of 32, I have learned to be a stronger woman who values myself and those around me. I am grateful to the many women that build me up when I feel like stepping down. I am grateful to the strong women that raised me, such as my mother and grandmothers. I’m also grateful to have my father in my life, who is a strong man, who always encourages me to keep fighting for what I want and to be true to myself. To everyone out there, thank you for being you. Please always let your light shine bright, but make sure to have a pair of sunglasses available for those around who might need it.
Moral: 1) Always be true to oneself. 2) Lifting others up is more productive then bringing them down. 3) Women are more than objects to be googled, we are human beings with dreams and ambitious and rarely take no for an answer.
The measure of a life is not its longevity but in its generosity.
Debasish Mridha
My Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Ed have had a lifetime of adventures and misadventures from winning pool tournaments in the 85 and over club to traveling to Aruba and befriending strippers on the strip. I have inherited their genes of adventure and misadventure. They were the champions of taking an ordinary task, such as going to the grocery store or doctor’s office, and turning it into a plot-line for a comedy show. I learned from them to look for the humor and joy in what I do because like paper beats rock, laughter beats stress. Nothing ever goes 100% the way we picture it, so better to embrace the whole kit and caboodle then fight it.
One such example, was in April 1999 when my grandfather needed to go to the hospital. He had recently been diagnosed with shingles and was in a very serious, unbearable amount of pain. In her 90s, Grandma Eleanor had reluctantly given up driving so she summoned an ambulance.
Mayo Clinic describes Shingles as a painful rash that usually effects the upper torso, that can appear as a part of aging, if the person had chicken pox in the past. Grandpa Ed’s rash was on his face where even his glasses would cause excruciating painful throbbing. Thankfully, pimples have been my only facial battle and following the CDC guidelines I am getting the shingles shot the day I turn 60, despite never getting the chicken pox. Better my arm hurt for a day than my face ‘til I croak.
About fifteen minutes after the call was placed, Eleanor heard the sirens and let Ed know the ambulance was just around the corner and she was going to guide the paramedics in. The paramedics didn’t look for guidance, they walked in, took a look at Grandma Eleanor, swept her up in their arms and let her know they would get her to the hospital straight away. Eleanor was flustered and started looking around for a mirror to figure out how bad she must look. As she was twisting her head around trying to get a good look at herself, she kept groaning that it was Ed who needed the attention not her. The paramedics believing the original broadcast of severe pain was heightened by Eleanor’s delusional thoughts put her in the ambulance quickly and speed off towards the emergency room leaving Ed behind.
Half way to the hospital the paramedics realize that Eleanor was not delusional, but a concerned wife. The driver turned around and Ed was picked up to join the bunch on the ride to the hospital. Apologies were given and the ride in the ambulance was noted to be complimentary. Ed received the treatment that he needed to help with the pain from his shingles and both were escorted home by the head of the ER later that day. Eleanor would later joke with the ladies in her community over Poker that one way to judge if someone is having a good hair day is seeing a paramedic and not being taken to the hospital straight way.
Moral: 1) Learn to laugh at the moments that scare you the most. 2) Always be prepared for the unexpected.
Feel free to leave your comments and hospital stories below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and those stories may be used in a later post.
“We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us.”
Robyn Yong
Many thoughts cross the mind of a seven year old flying to their new home on the island of Aruba. White sandy beaches, the amazing blues of the Caribbean Sea, palms swaying in the breeze and boogie boarding everyday on the incoming waves were images that filled my imagination after seeing the pictures and videos my parents took while on the job interview. It sounded more like a year round recess than a life in Latin America that would change who I am, what I feel, and how I interact with people.
I was a minority both in the country and among the ten students in my class. Arubans are a mixture of European, African and indigenous people with a sprinkling of South American immigrants. Blonde haired, blue eyed Americans stand out like a jagged boulder on a white sandy beach. Dutch was the official language, Papiamento the native language, Spanish the most common, and battered English came in a distant fourth. One girlfriend spoke Spanish, the other Papiamento, while my tennis coach rattled off his commands in Dutch. There were many moments of isolation during the first few years because I did not understand what was being said to me and around me. As my language skills increased, so did the freedom to express myself and, in turn, make better friends. We were the colors of the ethnic rainbow. We were rich and poor and somewhere in between. We danced and laughed and sometimes cried together while being as diverse as the squares on Nonie’s quilt.
Vacations in the states were usually limited to one or two weeks a year. My dad’s Aruban business insisted that a month of travel off island was better for the spirits. (How would your spirits like that?) So travel we did, not to big cities, national parks, or the California beaches, but to Cuzco, Peru for a hike along the Inca Trail, through the Valley of the Gods, and to the 11,000 foot summit of Machu Picchu. We spent the night on Machu Picchu under the stars, listened to the tales of Inca life in Spanish, and felt the spirit of holiness about the place. We traveled down the Amazon, slept in a floating hotel (flotel) and bamboo huts, smelled the freshness of the rain forest, saw monkeys and birds living in the canopies, communities cut into a jungle clearing, and children paddling dugout canoes down the Amazon to their school. I bargained with the merchants in Ecuador and joked with Venezuelans at the base of Angel Falls. I swam with penguins and seals, sharks and sting rays in the Galapagos seawater. I walked where Charles Darwin walked, were tortoises the size of a Volkswagen bug live off the land and lizards live off the sea, and thanks to my new language, I understood the lectures on how the wild life had adapted over the centuries from their South American cousins five hundred miles to the East. We cruised to Grenada where Americans are loved and to St Martin where they are not. I participated in a sports exchange in Trinidad and Tobago, went to the running of the bulls in Spain, and have made friends from all over the world.
I can see my difference and diversity since I have returned to the states. when I started high school in California. I chose my friends from the whole high school community and kept a tight knit group, something I still do today. Language is not the barrier, attitude is. I hang out with Hmong, Hispanics, Blacks, and whites, etc. Some groups that in high school would not hangout with each other unless they were taking part in a whimsical new adventure I orchestrated. They are the patches of my Nonie’s quilt and from my life in Aruba I have learned that I can be the thread that holds them together.
I am proud to say that today my group of friends is still extremely diverse whether it be a difference in religion, race, language, political beliefs, disabilities, or sexual interest. I find a way to connect with them and they with me. Together we defy stereotypes and have the spiritual connections that last a lifetime.
Morals: 1) Don’t just make a bucket list, find a way to live it. 2) Stepping outside your comfort zone is good for the soul.
Feel free to leave a comment below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your thoughts may be used in a future blog.
Love yourself first and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world.
Lucille Ball
" If anyone shouldhurt you and say a thing unkindremember what I tell you and keep these things in mind.For everyone who makes you cry, there are three who make you smile.A smile will last a long, long time, a tear just a little while.If someone says a thing that's cruel, don't let it get it you.There is so much good about you, your faults are very few.So if a certain someone should act a certain way,just think of those who love you, don't let it ruin your day.Don't let someone who hates the world cause you to hate it toofor behind the clouds is a golden sun and sky that's bright and blue. "
I found those corny verses in an old journal that I kept in 2008. I wrote it after a memorable Valentines Day misadventure.
It was two in the morning and I had just gotten back from a quick day-trip to Stanford with the Marching Lumberjacks. I banged the bass drum and cheered the Humboldt State basketball team to victory. I could not wait to get into my soft Minnie Mouse onesie and curl up under the covers and get some long needed shut eye. Unfortunately my roommate and her boyfriend had other plans.
When I arrived at the dorm, I noticed that the light to the bedroom was still on. While the living room was empty, my roommate and her boyfriend were sitting on her bed watching a movie on her laptop. When I asked if they wouldn’t mind watching it in the living room so I could get some sleep, they said, “ No. We’re quite comfortable”. I then asked if they would at least turn the light off. Again, a resounding, “No”. When my roommate went to the restroom, I again kindly requested that the movie be watched elsewhere or, at least, the light be turned off. I let him know that I would gladly sleep at a girlfriend’s place the next night, but at 2 AM, I was not going to call anyone tonight.
At that point he decided to yell and shout and call me a variety of names. “It’s my girlfriend’s room too. So you can take your stupid Minnie Mouse outfit and sleep outside with the homeless,” he screamed. He ended his rant with a lung busting, “You’re nothing, but a no good for nothing…………… S L U T.”
Picture me laying in bed and him bending down screaming into my face. Then picture the swiftness of a frog’s tongue capturing an unsuspecting fly. If you can imagine that then you can imagine the swiftness of my fist meeting his nose. I was Bruce Lee and his nose the board. He just stood there letting the blood drip to the floor when a police officer peeked his head in the door and asked if everything was alright. He informed us that the neighbors had heard the shouting and called fearing someone’s safety. I let the officer know that everything would be fine, if my roommate’s boyfriend who doesn’t live in the dorm would just leave my bedroom. By then my roommate had returned and overheard the officer telling the schmuck to leave. She gave me the death glare, packed up her belongings and left to go to her boyfriend’s home for the night.
As I snuggled in for the night, I could feel my face expand into a big smile. The next day, I got a congratulations card from dorm mates for being ‘A Bad A–”. I also got a roommate that was never around, allowing me to enjoy countless nights of uninterrupted sleep. When it comes to fight or flight, I guess I’m a fighter.
Moral: 1) Every day is an opportunity to show and express acts of love and kindness. 2) Name Calling is never the way to go. 3) If you have been punched in the nose, you probably deserved it. Learn and move on. 4) Don’t wait for a hero, be your hero.
Please feel free to share your thoughts and stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com to have it possibly to be used in future posts.
I agree with Itzhak Perlman that “It is good medicine to go to a concert hall and forget the harshness of what is going on. It can be a very positive thing.” I go to about 5 concerts a year for that very reason, to escape reality and just be. The electric energy shared between the performers and the audience is something that is so genuine and unique that it is different even if you see the same band twice. Concerts are my happy place. Friends have never seen me happily energized until they see me at a concert.
During the Spring of 2006, I put on my black lipstick with a black leather jacket and drove two hours from Humboldt State to San Francisco to see my heroine P!nk perform in a small venue. When I got there I was beyond giddy. I skipped my way up to Will Call. When I got there, I was told that my tickets were not present under my name or the name of the company I bought them through. I then was given a 5 minute lecture as to why I need to buy tickets from Ticketmaster as other companies are known just to take a person’s money. I ran out of tears by the time my two hour drive home was complete. The next morning at 8 AM, I received a call from the venue letting me know my tickets were found under the company name and I would get free tickets to any show I wanted. I asked and finally spoke to the manager to state that next time the staff needs to actually look for the tickets instead of giving lectures. I then demanded they return my money as I would never see a show there. Since then I have been able to see P!NK twice, but I can’t let go of the feeling that in a small venue I might have met her. After all I have met the singers of Matchbox 20, O-Town, Fall Out Boy, and a few others. I have a guitar pick from 3 Doors Down, The Goo Goo Dolls, and Rob Thomas. I even have a guitar pick from Sister Hazel that my dad reach up on stage before the band walked out and took from the spares stuck between the cables in the mic.
My most memorable moment was in April of 2010, when I saw Train for the first time in Oakland. After a two and half drive I ended up in the wrong venue. I felt so secure in where I was going that I didn’t look at my ticket. I was wrong. Luckily, the Oracle was close to the Fox Theater allowing me enough time to get in and stand in the 3rd row from the stage. I was smiling ear to ear when Pat Monahan came out and sang one of my favorite songs, “Marry Me.” I couldn’t help but have a tear run down my cheek due to the sweetness in his voice and the smile on his face as he looked at me and took my hand and sang the lyrics:
“Marry me Today and every day Marry me If I ever get the nerve to say “Hello” in this cafe Say you will Mm-hmm Say you will Mm-hmm“
I will never forget the wink he gave me when he let go of my hand and continued the awesome concert. I later was given a signed guitar pick. Out of all the concerts I have been to, he is the only one who crowd surfed. It was amazing to see the crowd catch him when he fell backwards into our hands.
I called my mom later that night gushing about the fact that Pat Monahan from Train held my hand and sang Marry Me to me as well as accidentally grabbing his buttocks to help get him back on stage during the crowd surfing. I told my mom that he explained that “Calling All Angels” is about a person having a devilish side that constantly pushes obnoxious comments, such as, “you are ugly” or “you can’t do this” and an Angel on the other side pushing kindness and caring “you are beautiful” and “you can do this.” So Calling All Angles is about calling out everyone’s angelic side. I left that show feeling as though I was floating on a cloud and didn’t shed a tear on the long drive back to school.
That is the power that concerts have. They can make someone go from feeling down and out to hopeful and excited for the future. They can bring different groups of people together who may otherwise never meet. I met hundreds of bikers at a 3 Doors Down motorcycle rally fundraiser concert for Phoenix Children’s Hospital. My friend and I dressed in cut offs and t shirts stuck out like sore thumbs in the leather parade that surrounded us but we all smiled and sang Be Somebody with feeling and as one.
Moral: 1) Remember you have a beautiful soul so don’t be afraid to let it shine. 2) Concerts are a great way to relieve stress, meet new people, and create memories that last a lifetime. 3) Ticketmaster is always the way to go.
Please feel free to share your comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and they might be used in a future blog. Stay Whimsical.
“Fill your life with adventures not things; have stories to tell not things to show.”
Jaswant Soni
Growing up, traveling became second nature. I enjoyed going on trips, seeing and doing things other kids don’t normally get to experience. I rode a bus in Peru up the side of a mountain where the road was so narrow that our bus had to back up several times in order for a car to continue going down the rocky, rutted road. One slight turn of the wheel in the wrong direction and the bus was going off a cliff with me and the 7 other tourist who were visibly shaking and holding on for dear life. All of this just to pet a herd of llamas and see the terraced rose gardens where the Pro Flowers ilk ship their boxes of roses from. I learned to row a dugout canoe down the Amazon River on my 13th birthday where out of the blue and in the middle of who knows where another canoe filled with tourists started singing Happy Birthday to me as they rowed passed us. I got to travel to Curacao and Trinidad for sports exchanges once a year throughout middle school playing basketball, volleyball, tennis, and soccer. I was even named MVP for basketball and volleyball my 6th grade year. I have traveled by ship, train, air, and cars to visit friends, family, and places of interest all over the world. I had not, however, traveled alone to a destination where no one I knew was waiting to greet my arrival. At least not until I decided to go on a Wild Woman’s Retreat in November of 2018.
The Woman’s Retreat was in Costa Rica and would focus on self-love, forgiveness, and after letting go, being ready to move on. We completed hours of meditation sessions daily, but instead of doing them in a class or in a living room, we did them in the rain forest or on the beach. We did various exercises to support each other letting go and working on transitioning into the butterflies we knew we were, but couldn’t see. We did this by finding our voices while we chanted and danced, often naked, in the rain forest. We went zip lining. We had massages. We had long meaningful talks about life experiences and listened to each other as we spoke our truths out loud. We had a marriage ceremony were we spoke heartfelt vows to ourselves. On the last day of the retreat, I went to the beach and put my feet in the water and spoke to the spirits around me about love and how I was proud of who I am and that the right guy will be proud to be with me. I forgave myself for past issues as there is nothing to be done about them now. I promised to never let any one person make me feel bad about myself because the only person who can do that is me and I was no longer going to do that.
I will admit that I was apprehensive about going on the trip, but I figured at the age of 30, it was about time I went on a grand adventure that I would remember and talk about for years to come. I am glad I did. I was able to meet wonderful souls who were willing to be exposed and discuss their vulnerabilities, something I hadn’t done in forever. I was able to learn from them and from the many hours of self-reflection that being confident is great, but it is also great trying and failing. I learned that the hardest thing to do, but the simplest thing to do is just ask for help and be honest with others. I learned to let go of expectations of what might happen and just be in the moment. Not as easy for me as it sounds and something I am still working on today. The moments I had been surrounded by those strong powerful woman, whether it be in the in the middle of the jungle or under a water fall, or simply just sitting in a circle holding hands were the few times I ever felt completely free and not judged. I was able to embrace the imperfections that make me who I am and be proud of my whimsical self.
Moral: 1) Sometimes stepping outside your comfort zone is just what the doctor ordered. 2) Being able to sit in silence and listen to someone tell their story is hard, but good for everyone. 3) You, my friends and readers, are amazing. 4) Remain Wild and Free.
Thank you for reading and following my blog. If you have any comments or stories you would like to share you can do so in the comments below or by emailing zsmisadventures@gmail.com.
“Do things for people not because of who they are or what they do in return, but because of who you are.”
Harold S. Kushner
Before college, riding the bus alone would have been one of my biggest fears. Fearful that I would miss my stop, that I would get on the wrong bus going the wrong direction, or that I would be seated next to the Boston Strangler and that no one would be there to help pull his boney fingers from my throat. However, without a car and in need of food, I took the bus two miles down the road to Target for grocery shopping. After a few trips, I not only avoided starvation but also slowly started to embrace the practice of public transportation.
My last year at Humboldt, I lived in a place that did not have a washer or dryer. The nearest laundromat was 5 miles away. I still did not have a car and would often relay on friends to take me and we would enjoy doing our laundry together. However, on the days that my friends were booked and laundry couldn’t wait, I took the bus. At first, I felt a bit strange and embarrassed riding the bus with my big purple laundry basket under my arm and, in fact, avoided eye contact rather than feel the stares of pity. About the third laundry excursion, I tripped as I walked down the aisle and spilled my dirty clothes down the rubber walkway. Before I could scream in mortification, a young lady jumped out of her seat, put here clothes basket down and helped me gather my things together. Laundry Laurie became a lifelong friend. We began scheduling our trips and sitting together proudly with our laundry baskets. We joked about the questioning looks we got as the passer-byes tried to figure out why we were walking down the street with laundry baskets balancing on our heads. I even turned down free rides with my roommates in order to join Laundry Laurie for the public transportation trip.
10 years later, I have graduated from college, acquired a Master’s Degree, and bought a home where I can walk to my own washer and dryer in my Harry Potter, Slytherin, bath robe. Instead of riding a bus to do laundry, I now take the light rail to work. I opted to reduce my carbon footprint and use public transportation three years ago due to the heavy traffic on the freeway, the growing number of careless drivers crisscrossing lanes and causing avoidable accidents, and the stress of having two bumper to bumper freeways merge within a mile of my exit ramp which is four lanes to the right. I found that the light rail allowed me a chance to relax both on my way to and from work. I could watch the progress of buildings being developed all over Tempe and downtown Phoenix, but most of all, I could watch and interact with the community around me. I have had lengthy, heartfelt conversations with strangers who have later become friends. I see familiar and smiling faces rather than horn blaring, steering wheel banging, screaming red faces of our freeway commuters. We make a habit of looking out for each other. We make sure to hold a spot for a seat mate on the train as it can get quit full. We inquire if someone has been missing from our section for a few days. Beyond that, there is the simple joy of closing my eyes and listening to my music and not worrying about what the raging road warriors may do next.
If you ride the light rail daily you will see some interesting human behaviors, such as, a young lady attempting to start a 6 AM argument with her significant. She kept saying, “I don’t want to start an argument but ….. “ over and over for about 20 minutes. When she finally stopped talking and looked over at him, he was sound asleep. There are times when a seat mate may “accidentally” fall asleep on your shoulder. There are those who think that women always need to be escorted, but are lucky enough to have friends restrain them from following you off the light rail.
However, there are also those times when an older gentleman falls on their back as the train comes to a sudden stop causing their leg to bend like a rag doll. I was able to see firsthand how human kindness makes a different in someone’s life. I was able to see also how technology has caused us to be less aware of the world around us. While I was going to help the gentleman up and check if he was alright, I noticed that most people were looking at their phones and didn’t even notice that the man had fallen. I spoke with the man and was able to convince him to allow me and a friend of mine to help him up when the train stopped. He spoke about being embarrassed and the hardships he faces having one artificial leg. He also stated that he was grateful for our help. He spoke of being aware that most people are always on their phones or use it as a way to avoid looking at someone like him who is older, looks homeless, and shuffles as he walks. I let him know that I was happy to help and reassured him he had nothing to be embarrassed. I spoke about falling all the time and I have two good legs. I have never seen someone laugh so hard. In the end we were able to get someone to move their backpack off the handicap bench so he could sit down. I stood next to him and talked through the next few stops.
It is moments like that I am happy that I get to ride the light rail because I would not be able to hear about his love for his dog or how he sees society otherwise. I would not be reminded to take the time to reflect on my own actions and how they may or may not affect others. I would not see the impact that one simple of act of kindness can have; it can make a person feel seen and valued which is not something to be taken lightly.
Moral: 1) Choose Kindness, even if it is just a smile, it can turn a person’s whole day around. 2) You are never alone as we are all in this together and in the end you always have you for company. 3)Public Transportation is nothing to fear it is something to celebrate.
Please feel free to share your stories in the comments below or email me at zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your story may be featured in a future post.
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
Martin Luther King Jr.
I have always been fascinated by Martin Luther King Jr., originally born Michael King Jr., and his ability to stand up for what he believed, regardless of the consequences. He was able to use his voice as a catalyst to ignite change in a peaceful, yet attention-getting, forceful manner. He was able to shine a light on racism in a way that others could not. He did more than just say racism is wrong. He helped communities speak up about the injustices of segregation, about the importance of freedom of speech and how to conduct demonstrations the drew attention to their movement.
In October of 1958, Martin Luther King Jr. was stabbed in the chest while autographing books at a department store book signing event. His survival only reinforced his dedication to nonviolence. He committed his life to organizing and being a part of peaceful protests. He did not believe violence sustained change.
One such protest took place in front of 250,000 demonstrators at the Lincoln Memorial in August of 1963 where he articulated his beliefs in the celebrated “I have a Dream” speech to kick off the March on Washington. The speech that day was more than just one of America’s most iconic speeches, it also served as a lesson on how to organize and fight for freedom and equality. It was the defining moment of the Civil Rights Movement. Without Martin Luther King Jr.’s willingness to speak out for injustice and be arrested more than 30 times in the process, who knows when segregation issues would have been addressed.
I have given my fair share of speeches in the past when running for class president, being the commencement speaker at graduation and addressing a Kiwanis meeting on the issues of child neglect and abuse. While not as gifted a speaker as King, I did learn that speaking about an issue which you are passionate about is, not only, more fun, but also, can be more heart felt and inspirational. I had no idea what I was really trying to do with my class presidential speech, but I knew exactly how and why the business leaders in the Kiwanis club could help our community’s foster children.
One of today’s leading issues is Women’s Rights. I was excited to hit the pavement in 2018 to protest the hideous attacks on Planned Parenthood offices that provide health services to women, failures to recognize the insidious date-rape culture, and the never ending assaults on women’s right to choose.
Having spent a lot of time in Planned Parenthood waiting rooms during college in order to get free pap smears, breast exams, and birth control pills, I was visibility upset at the thought of this resource not being available to those that need it. In college, I was able to work to make enough money to pay rent and eat food thru my work for free. I did not have health insurance due to being over 18 and excluded by insurance companies from my parents plan and part time employees are excluded from company health plans. I did not have money for doctor visits. Being a woman, diabetic, and having a history of breast cancer in my family, it was important that I be able to see a gynecologist. Planned Parenthood was that resource that allowed me to have peace of mind on health care concerns.
It was heartening to see the number of men that showed up at the state capital for the First Women’s March in Arizona. Men had signs, shirts, and megaphones in order to speak out on behalf of their loved ones. It is because of those men and women that conversations about sexual abuse where able to be discussed in a non-shameful manner. It is because of those men and women’s voices about the importance of their health services that our local Planned Parenthood clinics provide they did not get shut down. It is because of those men and women who I joined in a peaceful march and because of inspirational leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks and Betty Friedan’s NOW (National Organization of Women) that I too felt empowered to speak up on my own behalf in order to be treated as an equal. I was able to say with confidence that fighting like a girl is something to be proud of and not mocked as girls are strong, witty, and fierce. For I too have a dream worth fighting for, a dream where one day it is no longer asked or debated if a woman can be president, it is just a given that presidency has no gender.
Moral: 1) It is important to speak out against the injustices that you see as it can inspire others to do the same. 2) Change does not happen overnight, so be patient. 3)As Martin Luther King JR. has stated, “No one is free until we are all free.”
Please feel free to comment about your experiences in the comment section or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and it could be used in a future blog. Thank you for following zsmisadnventures and stay whimsical.
“There are rules to luck, not everything is chance. To the wise; luck can be helped by skill.”
Balthasar Gracian
My brother, Todd, who lives in Corvallis, Oregon is known for the poker tournaments that he hosts. He is proud of the ten player green felt table that he made. Additionally, he is a little beyond competitive and loves the statistics involved in poker. He has played at the World Series of Poker tournaments in Vegas. While he didn’t win he did broaden his skills. In 2009, while on summer vacation from Humboldt State University located on the Northern California coast, I visited Todd and posted the $20 entry fee for his poker tournament. We meet to eliminate our competition every month for 3 months until there was only 2 of the original 18.
Having never played in a poker tournament, I expected to go out in the first round and spend the rest of the time serving cocktails. I was excited when the first night of the tournament was over and I was still alive. Comparatively speaking, I had plenty of chips to carry me to the next round, which meant that I also had more time to study the do’s and don’ts of High Stakes Poker. Todd was not so lucky. His pair of Queens was taken out by a pair of Kings. It was the first time he didn’t make it to the final round of his tournament.
As the second round of the tournament began, my brother played the gracious host and dealer. I listened to him still talk smack even though he was a bleacher bum. The cards came my way. On the final hand of the evening, I was pushed to an all-in and hit a full house on the river. The player with three aces cried. Big crocodile tears too. I never would have dreamt of making it to heads up for 360 bucks. My previous gambling luck was winning $300 on a Caribbean Cruise bingo game playing my dad’s card.
The final round came and I was ready. I had read every article and watch every YouTube video I could find on tournament poker playing. Chester and I sat down at the table to begin the final round of play while Todd dealt the cards. We traded a couple of wins each. I drew a pair of Aces on the flop and all of the books and videos suggested a heavy bet. While I held about 40% of the chips between us, I felt that this jackpot was mine and went all in. The turn and the river were low hearts and I felt invincible. But Chester showed a flush and with a big smile pulled all of my chips into his corner. Winning would have been great, but it sure felt great to come in second in Toddy’s poker tournament.
I have learned that Lady Luck has a treasured place in our family and that being broke doesn’t stop one from having fun. It just forces you to come up with innovative ways for entertainment.
For example, when my dad was young, he and his college roommate Charles, didn’t have much money. In fact, on this particular day between them they only had $6. Their collegiate wisdom suggested the fastest way to quadruple their money was to bet at the horse track. Knowing little about the art of reading horse racing forms, they decided the best money was to be made betting quinellas or betting 2 dollars on two horses that would finish first and second. It didn’t matter the order. Not knowing which jockey or horse to root for they decided to pull numbers out a hat. So while driving down the freeway to the race track they pulled two numbers out of a hat. Their lucky numerals were 6 and 3. They had to wait until after the 6th race to get in free and not further deplete their already miserable betting wad. They lost two thirds of their money in races 7 and 8. When my dad got up to put their last 2 dollars down, Charles grabbed his arm and pointing to the racing program said, “Let’s wait til race 10. These horses will only make money pulling a milk wagon.” So they sat in the grandstands and watched the 3 and 6 horses edge across the finish line and pay $780 for a $2 bet.
50 years later if you mention the numbers 3,6 and 780, they will shake their heads. I, too, can still picture peeking at the Ace of Hearts and Spades and then confidently pushing all of my chips to the center of the table. Must be a gambler’s nightmare.
Moral: 1) Don’t stop believing in one’s ability to accomplish tasks even if that task has never been one you have completed before. 2) Don’t be afraid to take chances, that is where the real excitement lies.
Please feel free to share your comments below or email zsadventures@gmail.com with your adventure stories that may be included in a future blog. Stay Whimsical.
“Passion is what makes life interesting, what ignites our soul, fuels our love and carries our friendships, stimulates our intellect, and pushes our limits.”
Pat Tillman
On December 31st, 2019, I attended my first Tony The Tiger Sun Bowl in El Paso, Texas. I am grateful for the opportunity to support my Devils, but to also bond with another group of people I would never have interacted with if not for this bowl game. El Paso is a place that is both welcoming and kind.
On August 31, 2019, El Paso lost 22 innocent lives during a Walmart hate-crime shooting aimed at killing Hispanics. Instead of choosing to see this act as an attack only on Hispanics in the community, they decided to come together and help one another through the grieving process. They created a memorial in front of the Walmart to memorialize those that were lost. It is a 30 foot candle with 22 individual aluminum arcs that light up. Throughout the town the logo, El Paso Strong, can be seen on billboards and stenciled on buildings and walls. It signals strength which unites a community. This is rare to find and rarer to see several months after such as tragedy. Countless people are needlessly killed every day but due to the high volume are overlooked. It gave me hope to see El Paso come together and say enough, this is not acceptable, and we will do our best to make sure another tragedy of this caliber doesn’t happen again.
I was grateful for the opportunity to attend a bowl game. It’s not often you can get reasonably priced 49 1/2 yard line seats twenty rows from the field of play but we did. Mid way through the first half ASU kicked a field goal and the ball went into the crowd. Rather than returning it to the field of play, it was tossed further up into the stands and eventually made its way to plunking and bruising my mom’s shoulder after somehow going right through my hands. (My Excuse: I was twisted sideways trying to catch it over my back shoulder with a confining jacket restricting my normally smooth movements.) My neighboring ASU alumni was able to throw it further from the on-coming security guards. It was fun watching those around us get into the game and yell some of the most absurd things: on fourth and 15, “Let’s go for it. It’s only a bowl game”. Florida State University fans around us were so outnumbered that they could not get a good cheer going for more than a few seconds.
I enjoyed meeting Tony the Tiger and the Sun Bowl mascots at the battle of the bands the night before the big game. ASU won, but it wasn’t hard to see why. We had, for example, 10 xylophones to FSU’s zero and 22 tubas to their measly 6 and over double the amount of band members. I enjoyed seeing the thousands of fans at the ASU tailgate party and the homemade signs welcoming FSU to join our beer fest since they didn’t have an organized gathering. ASU’s band and cheerleaders provided some entertainment to awaken the cheering spirits.
The Sun Bowl certainly lived up to its name because my face was fried after 6 hours of exposure. It was worth it to see Tyler Johnson, # 41, recover a Florida States fumble in the last minute of the game to synch the win for Arizona State. Though only a sophomore he is retiring from the game due to multiple lingering injuries and concussions. A sweet and memorable way to end his Sun Devil career.
Driving back to Arizona after a 20 – 14 win, singing the fight song, laughing at some of the game time antics and giving the fork salute as we passed FSU alumni heading West never felt so good.
Looking forward in the near future to going to the Rose Bowl and wearing the same sweatshirt that my mother was wearing at the Rose Bowl when preggy with me. Go Devils!
Moral: 1) Always be there for your fellow man as you never know what they are going through. 2) There is more to football games than just football.
Please feel free to share your stories of courage and comradely in the comments below or at zsmisadventures@gmail.com to possibly be shared in a later blog.
Lady Z's MisAdventures 