Ebony White: Fairest of Them All

It was my father who taught me to value myself. He told me I was uncommonly beautiful and that I was the most precious thing in his life.
Dawn French

Happy Father’s Day to all the father’s out there and father’s to be. Thanks for all the love and comfort you share. I am fortunate to have a wonderful father of my own that I have been able to learn from throughout the years. He has taught me how to write, how to create, and to know that I am worth loving. He is one of a kind. Below is a piece he wrote for college when he was going to ASU. Enjoy.

It was the first snow of winter. A beautiful, young housewife sat at her kitchen nook sipping dark ebony, Kona blend coffee. She was drawn into the shimmering black pool of her morning drink and the reflections of the ivory-white rim. Reaching across the table for her scissors, she pricked the end of her ring finger. She jerked her hand back. A small droplet of deep red blood appeared. She hesitated and admired the vibrant color before wiping her hand on a napkin. As she watched the snowflakes float like feathers across her view of Mount Bachelor, she daydreamed of a daughter with ebony hair, ivory-white skin, and lips as vibrant red as the blood in her veins.

Several years later, the young housewife had the daughter of her dreams. She survived long enough to touch the beautiful white skin and ebony hair, to kiss the deep red lips, and to name her beauty, Ebony White.

Ebony White’s father, after several years of mourning, married a former Oregon beauty queen who secretly practiced witch craft. She spent hours in front of her magic mirror challenging with makeup any sign of the aging process. She would often pose in front of the mirror and ask, “Tell me mirror, tell me true, whose beauty makes men say, Eeeew?”

“You da Eeeew,” the mirror would reply.

Satisfied, the queen would blow the mirror a kiss as she headed off to the mall.

As the years passed, Ebony grew more and more beautiful each year. By the time she was a teenager, she was strikingly more beautiful than the queen or anyone else in Central Oregon. One day when the queen asked, “Tell me mirror, tell me true, whose beauty makes men say, Eeeew?”

The mirror replied, “You da Eeeew in view, but Ebony White’s the Eeeew Delight.”

The queen was fit to be tied. She stormed from the room and ordered her appointment secretary, Bruce, to take Ebony out on the Deschutes River and drown her. “Make it look like an accident,” she said sharply. “I’m off to the spa.”

Bruce coaxed Ebony to join him on an afternoon canoe trip. They floated and paddled for about an hour downstream before Bruce finally told Ebony of her stepmother’s command. “Take this canoe and paddle to Portland,” he instructed.

Ebony White headed down river. After two days of fighting the rapids and rocks, she waded ashore and fell asleep under an ancient redwood. Benny, one of the seven Burpinstock brothers, wandered down to the river and discovered the sleeping beauty. “Are you alright, young lady?” he asked as she jolted awake.

Ebony told him of her plight. Benny led her back to the shoe factory boardroom where he talked with his brothers while Ebony ate a sprout, spinach and tofu sandwich. It was agreed that Ebony could stay at one of the cabins in the Burpinstock compound and help out with internet and walk in orders.

After weeks of receiving condolences from just about everyone in Bend, the queen was relaxing in front of her mirror. “Tell me mirror, tell me true, whose beauty makes men say, Eeeew?”

“You da Eeeew in view, but Ebony White’s still the Eeeew Delight,” the mirror replied.

The queen was furious. “The Eeeew Delight must be banished from sight,” she yelled. After firing Bruce for insubordination, she gathered her books on potions. Blowing off the dust from the leather-bound covers, she spent hours both sneezing, she had dust allergies, and thumbing through the ancient pages for a poisonous concoction that would finally put Snow White to rest. The Red Delicious was ultimately her poison of choice. A beautiful red apple admired and consumed by Northwest vegetarians would be injected with the poison. A delight for the Eeeew Delight she thought gleefully.

With further help from the mirror, the queen was able to see Ebony White happily sending a test message to Billy Burpinstock, the company’s internet guru.

The queen set off at once on a shopping spree. Apples were bought at Whole Foods. She stopped at the Goodwill Thrift Store for an outfit more befitting the Burpinstock image. Her gathering of a ruffled petticoat skirt, gold-embroidered swing tunic, boho beret and tire tread sandals cost a little more than seven dollars. She stopped at the neighborhood Quick Cut and had her hair done up in a seven braid cage. Her last stop was at Todd’s Toyota dealership where she left her prize Mercedes to test drive an eco-friendly Prius.

It took a little more than five hours for the queen to reach the Burpinstock complex. Set deep into the forest at the edge of the Deschutes Old Redwood Preserve, it was a tree huggers’ dream. Without makeup and dressed in the drab fashion of yesteryear, Ebony did not recognize the queen when she entered the shoe room. The queen, a lady of the perfumed world, gagged at the faint smell of dirty feet. Ebony helped the queen pick out a pair of blue Super Burpy Clogs. After paying for her purchase, the queen handed Ebony the poisonous apple. “A red delicious delight for your help, my dear. Extra sweet, extra special,” she said and walked out the door.

Ebony White set the shiny apple on the corner of her polished ebony desk. It’s too beautiful to eat she thought. But the temptation like that of Adam millions of years ago was too strong to resist. She bit into the lethal concoction and immediately slumped to the floor. Her breathing and heart beat slowed to an imperceptible rate. When Bernie Burpinstock found Ebony sprawled across the floor, he deemed her dead. He summoned the other brothers to the office. “I deem her dead,” he said.

They moved her body to the conference room table and debated on what to do. “Let’s bury her by the ancient redwood where I found her,” Benny suggested.

“No. No.” replied Bobby. “We should build a monument at the center of the compound and place here there.”

The brothers Burpinstock debated day after day, week after week, and month after month but were unable to reach a unanimous decision. So Ebony White’s body remained prostrate on the conference room table.

One decision the brothers did make several years after Ebony’s assumed demise was to build a factory in Thailand to take advantage of that country’s cheap labor pool. “Why pay our people a living wage when we can get the work done for peanuts and a bowl of white rice,” they said. On their way to the factory’s grand opening their private jet developed engine trouble and plunged into the North Pacific subtropical gyre, a floating garbage patch of plastic the size of Texas. The world mourned the loss of Bernie, Bobby, Billy, Benny, Barry, Buddy, and Buckley Burpinstock.

There lived in the outskirts of Spokane, the nerdy young son of a wealthy philanthropist, Gabriel “Gabby” Gates. While his father thought computers could save the world, Gabby believed, “If every person had a good pair of clogs, the world would be at peace.” It’s hard to fight, he reasoned, when each step is a shuffle. When he saw the headlines, ‘Burpinstock Brothers Drown in a Sea of Plastic’ he saw the future of the world flash before his eyes.

“I will buy the company and shoe the world,” he told his dog, Gimpy. “We will have peace at last.”

After a fortnight of financial wrangling, Gabby took over the Burpinstock empire which included the prostrate body of Ebony White. On his first visit to the redwood factory, the general manager asked what he should do with the delicate sculpture that adorned the conference room table. Gabby inspected his new purchase and thought it a beautiful work of art. “Bring it along, Bruce.” he told his assistant. “I shall hang it over the fireplace at home.”

His assistant not used to wearing clogs and distracted by his ‘this face seems familiar’ thoughts, stumbled through the doorway and dropped Ebony White to the floor. The impact dislodged the poisonous wedge of apple caught in Ebony’s throat and she began to cough. Bruce, looking up from his prone position on the display room floor, passed out. Gabby grabbed Ebony White’s hand and helped her up. Dizzy from her years of horizontal life, Ebony grabbed onto Gabby’s arm for stability and they shuffled off together into the midsummer Oregon sunlight.

Mistaking the wobbly clutch of Ebony White for affection, Gabby eagerly proposed marriage to her in the back of his Volvo limousine.

Five hours away, before her favorite mirror, the queen exploded in anger. Her tears washed away the makeup that hid the wrinkles and blotches of an aged face. An image of wretched ugliness was imprinted on her brain. “Da Eeeew is through,” were her last words.

After the last snow flurries of March and as the countryside turned to a blanket of green, Ebony White and Gabby Gates held the outdoor wedding of the century. With the world watching on their smart phones and wearing free, commemorative, white Super Burpy clogs distributed worldwide by the Gates Foundation, the couple exchanged their vows of love. They and the world shuffled around happily and peacefully thereafter.

Moral: 1) A New Pair of Shoes can indeed change a life. 2) Don’t compare yourself to others it will only cause you distress, accept your wonder as is.

Thank you for reading and have a Happy Father’s Day. Feel free to share your comments and stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com.

A Pirates Life For Me

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is 10989495_10155697215470005_6126115608038809624_o.jpg — Jayce and Landen 2015

Children are happy because they don’t have a file in their minds called “All The Things That Could Go Wrong.
Marianne Williamson

Children may not only say the darndest things but also do ‘em. My nephews in Virginia pictured above are no exception. While they are about to enter the brilliantly uninformed, inexperienced, lazy, and loveable teenage years now, they find new ways to make me smile. Rather than facing the musical practice lockdown in their room all alone, they Facetime me and request an audience while they mis-blow every other note on a clarinet and find it most entertaining to clear out the spit. When tucking them in at bedtime, I have had the honor of their sad eyed pleading look followed by the soft imploring request to scratch their backs to help them fall asleep. I have clear memories of sitting between them during a family misadventure to Crater Lake. They entertained themselves and me by drawing their future living compound. Among other must haves, they agreed that it must have an ice cream shop for their kids off the movie theater. They are the sunshine that lights up my life.

I am very much looking forward to sitting at the counter in their ice cream shop telling their kids when this much needed space was designed. With chocolate ice cream dripping down our chins, I will relish telling the story of when their 5 and 7-year-old parents decided to hit the road on a thinly planned misadventure. Shortly after being tucked in, they noisily opened the bedroom window and crawled out with a backpack full of goodies. Their necessities for a lifetime of travel included their favorite comic books, toothbrushes, two pair of undewear, one pair of socks and, of course, the most important thing when seeking a new life of adventure…. a bag of money.

Their journey to explore the world made it to the front of the house where my brother sat on the front porch steps. When he asked what they were doing and where they were planning on going, their response was simple; go to Circle K; get large Pepsi’s, some beef jerky, and gummy worms before heading to the bus stop at the corner. They would have the bus take them to Myrtle Beach where they would wait for the next boat to sail off and see the world. The why? They didn’t have to stay home and pick up their toys when they could afford to get toys from all the new places they would see. “Nonie made us rich”, they said smiling and holding out their little bag of riches. All my brother could do was laugh. While visiting Arizona and the tourist shops in Sedona, Nonie bought them each a bag of gold nuggets. While it does say Fools Gold, who reads the fine print.

When they told me their side of the story, all I could do was laugh and tell them how delighted I was of their desire to explore the world together. Proud too, because they remembered to bring more than I did. When I was 7 years old, I too packed a bag. My backpack, however, was jammed with as many stuffed animals as I could fit. Forget socks and underwear, I wanted Big Bear and my other bedroom mates to see what the world outside my room was all about. I made it past the three neighboring houses all the way to the corner when I realized I was thirsty; had no money and didn’t know which way to go at the corner. I also had to pee, so I went back home. A few years later with experience as my guide I left with the two dollars and seventeen cents I saved up, some clothes, and of course Big Bear and my pillow. I figured if I ventured to my friend’s house across the alley, I would have a bed to sleep in, a bathroom, water to drink, a pool, and a ride to school. I did not count on her mother calling my mother. Nor did I consider her mother’s request that I pay my share for room and board which was way North of two dollars and seventeen cents. What followed was my first sleep over and my last adolescent thoughts of the hobo life.

My nephews’ travel misfortune reminded me that they are growing up, becoming independent and carry my family’s whimsical gene for misadventure. I have seen pictures of their Great Aunt, Leandra back in the 40s, lugging an oversized suitcase down the street. She only made it half a block because she packed way too much and couldn’t carry it another step.

Moral: 1) My nephews and nieces brighten my life. 2) Relish your time with children, they do the darndest things. 3) Read the fine print.

Feel free to share your stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and the stories may appear in a future blog.

Fighting Just to Breath

You don’t fight racism with racism, the best way to fight racism is with solidarity.
Bobby Seale

I would like to take a moment to remember all those beautiful souls that were taken horrifically by the hands of those who have taken the oath to defend and protect us: George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Eric Gardner, John Crawford II, India Kager, Eric Reason, and so many more that it would take a lifetime of minutes to fill the ledger. This is not a problem that needs to change, it is a system that promotes racism around the world that needs to change. It is unacceptable that a majority of people have to live with the knowledge that just because of the color of their skin they could have their life and the lives of those they love taken from them just for walking down a street or sleeping in their bed. It is unacceptable that it can be done so casually and without any consequence. It is unacceptable. I know that I cannot possibly understand the pain, the hurt, the anguish that one might feel living every day under this never-ending tension, but none the less, I am here to listen. Black Lives Matter. I want you to know I love you, I care for you, I see you, and I fight alongside you.

Moral: Speaking out about and listening to stories about injustice are not always easy things to do, but they are the first steps for change to occur.

If you are a reader and would like some book recommendations to understand how we got to today please read: Notes of a Native Son by James Baldwin, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, The Bluest Eyes by Toni Morrison, and How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi.

Notes of a Native Son by James Balwin: This is available as an audiobook that you can listen to free on YouTube. Mr. Baldwin wrote it during the 1940s and early 1950s when he was in his twenties to capture the view of black life and black thought during the civil rights movement through a series of essays.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker: This book can also be listened to for free on YouTube audiobooks. Ms. Walker captures the lives of African American women growing up in Georgia in the 1930s. It is a story that depicts the violence in which these women and African American men were treated due to class structures.
The Bluest Eyes by Toni Morrison: Ms. Morrison documents the struggle of a young black girl who is not satisfied or proud of the body she was given and wishes to be white with blonde hair and blue eyes to help her fit in. It is a story that captures the harsh reality of who we are and what we are told we should be.
How to be an AntiRacist by Ibram X. Kendi: This book can be listed for free on YouTube audiobooks. Mr. Kendi discussed the language used and not used when discussing racism. He also states that it takes more than showing anti-racist emotion to make a change, it also takes pursuing anti-racist actions to make genuine progress.

If you are not a reader or audiophile but would still like to learn more about racism some movies to watch would be Just Mercy, The Color Purple, Do the Right Thing, When They See Us, and Watchmen.

Just Mercy: This movie can be watched free on YouTube, Amazon Prime, and Google Play. Katie Couric spoke with the human rights attorney Bryan Stevenson who the movie is based on her podcast, Next Question with Katie Couric in December of 2019. The movie is about when Mr. Stevenson graduated from Harvard Law School and heads to Alabama to defend those wrongly condemned. One of his first cases is that of Walter McMillian, who is sentenced to die in 1987 for the murder of an 18-year-old girl, despite evidence proving his innocence. In the years that follow, Stevenson encounters racism and legal and political maneuverings as he tirelessly fights for McMillian’s life.
The Color Purple: This movie can be watched on Netflix. Ms. Walker captures the lives of African American women growing up in Georgia in the 1930s. It is a story that depicts the violence in which these women and African American men were treated due to class structures.
Do The Right Thing: This movie is available on Netflix. It is a movie about police brutality in New York. On the hottest day of the year on a street in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn hate and bigotry smolders and builds until it explodes into violence.
When They See Us: A Netflix mini-series. tells the story of the wrongful conviction of five black and Latino teenagers (dubbed the Central Park Five) for the 1989 assault on a female jogger in Central Park. All five were exonerated in 2002 when serial rapist Matias Reyes confessed that he was the sole attacker.
WatchMen: Offered on Amazon Prime, YouTube TV, and HBO. The superhero comics series was adapted into a politically relevant drama about race and the criminal justice system.

Below are some advocacy organizations that are doing important work in the fight to stop racial and social injustice. Feel free to check them out and see how you can get involved.

The Loveland Foundation: https://thelovelandfoundation.org Loveland Foundation is committed to showing up for communities of color in unique and powerful ways, with a particular focus on black women and girls. Their resources and initiatives are collaborative and they prioritize opportunity, access, validation, and healing. Their efforts strive to becoming the ones we’ve been waiting for.
Black Lives Matter: https://blacklivesmatter.com Black Lives Matter began as a call to action in response to state-sanctioned violence and anti-black racism. Their intention from the very beginning was to connect Black people from all over the world who have a shared desire for justice to act together in their communities. The impetus for that commitment was, and still is, the rampant and deliberate violence inflicted by the state.
Campaign Zero: https://www.joincampaignzero.org Campaign ZERO was developed with contributions from activists, protesters and researchers across the nation. This data-informed platform presents comprehensive solutions to end police violence in America. It integrates community demands and policy recommendations from research organizations and President Obama’s Task Force on 21st Century Policing.
The Marsha P. Johnson Institute: https://marshap.org/about-mpji/ We were created to elevate, support, and nourish the voices of Black trans people. Our community is made up of Black trans people and those committed to undoing white supremacy in all of its forms. Our space is intended for the sole purpose of bettering the Black trans community across the diaspora.
Color Of Change: https://colorofchange.org Color Of Change helps you do something real about injustice. We design campaigns powerful enough to end practices that unfairly hold Black people back, and champion solutions that move us all forward. Until justice is real. Color Of Change is here to make decision makers nervous when they think about neglecting and exploiting our communities. By holding them accountable, and championing solutions for social change, we are making society less hostile and more human for Black people in America. Help us do it.
NAACP Legal Defense Fund: https://www.naacpldf.org/ The NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, Inc. is America’s premier legal organization fighting for racial justice. Through litigation, advocacy, and public education, LDF seeks structural changes to expand democracy, eliminate disparities, and achieve racial justice in a society that fulfills the promise of equality for all Americans. LDF also defends the gains and protections won over the past 75 years of civil rights struggle and works to improve the quality and diversity of judicial and executive appointments.
National Lawyers Guild: https://www.nlg.org/ The NLG is dedicated to the need for basic change in the structure of our political and economic system. The NLG is anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist, and anti-racist and we strive to bring in anti-oppressive practices to all aspects of our organization. Each year, NLG members vote on organizational resolutions, which shape our priorities and areas of intervention. Through the national office, local and law school chapters, national committees, independent projects, and individual members, the Guild helps to support social justice movements on the ground as well as provide solidarity to international struggles.
Community Justice Action Fund: https://www.cjactionfund.org/ The Community Justice Action Fund is a nonprofit organization building power for and with communities of color to end gun violence. CJAF is changing the conversation on gun violence prevention by leading with the people closest to the pain of everyday gun violence. Ending gun violence takes all of us.
Black Futures Lab: https://blackfutureslab.org/ Black Futures Lab works with Black people to transform our communities, building Black political power and changing the way that power operates—locally, statewide, and nationally. There are three ways that Black Futures Lab is a different kind of project for change: our mission to engage Black voters year-round; our commitment to use our political strength to stop corporate influences from creeping into progressive policies; and our plan to combine technology and traditional organizing methods to reach Black people anywhere and everywhere we are.
Fair Fight Action: https://fairfight.com/ Promote fair elections in Georgia and around the country, encourage voter participation in elections, and educate voters about elections and their voting rights. Fair Fight brings awareness to the public on election reform, advocates for election reform at all levels, and engages in other voter education programs and communications.

Please feel free to share your stories and comments below or at zsmisadventures@gmail.com.

Whimsical Moments

From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere.
Dr. Seuss

Like my cat, Cutie, I have a knack for creating whimsical moments. Hearing my father tell stories about his daily life, I cannot help but think I come by it naturally. Just the other day my dad who is up and out of the house at 5 came home and told this story when asked about his day.

“You know’” he began, “I keep my head up wherever I go. I want to see the beauty of the day and what lays ahead. Your mother, on the other hand, walks around with her head down. Oh, she finds money on the ground that I just walked past and often remarks, ‘I love your shoes,’ to a stranger walking by. So, this morning, in my usual high headed manner, I jumped in the shower. It was not until I had thoroughly lathered up the shampoo and lowered my head to rinse out the extra thick and long Covid-19 hair that I opened my eyes. I could not believe what I saw…. I still had one sock on.” I can laugh at the absurdity of my dad’s ‘I look at the brighter side’ excuse. On the other hand, I don’t know anyone else who has done that without being intoxicated.

Like most young women who have a story about falling while running in heels to catch a ride, I was able to add to my story later when my co-workers were driving by and saw nothing but heels and the big red heart on the bottom of my Valentine’s Day undies. I have had two dozen cupcakes launch like a string of mortar rockets when the doors to the light rail pinned my leg and stopped me but not the cupcakes in my tracks. Six months later a lady I never spoke to before told me she was sorry about my cupcake launch. Some instances will live on in a variety of perspectives. While our assessment may be embarrassing others may see humor, sorrow and/or dismay. Thus, I have learned to embrace the whimsical moments as they are a big part of my life. The more ridiculous the better.

One such moment was when my co-workers were evacuated from our office and after gathering with the fire department in the parking lot, were sent home. This was happening while I was singing quietly along with the music blasting from my headphones and auditing files behind the closed doors of my office. I did not notice that the power had gone out as I had a large window in front of me that provided not only light but entertainment. I was able to look out and see the squirrels scurrying up trees and pigeons using my coworkers’ cars as bombing targets. It was not until I walked out of my office and headed to the file room that I noticed four firemen in gas masks rummaging through the main storage closet. When I asked what happened I was told that they were looking into a complaint of a power outage and possible gas vapors leaking through the air conditioning vents. I asked if I needed to worry. We suggest, he said in a way that was not a suggestion, that you join your co-workers and go home immediately. I walked out to an empty parking lot and into the Safety Monitor position in every office since.

I have donned the cape of a safety monitor in my home too. I have plans of escape routes from each room and big red dots for the places around the house where Cutie likes to sleep. Before you jump out your window, the instructions advise that you should check the few spots in your room and in the adjacent areas where she might be napping. She would appreciate escaping too.

Moral: 1) When a building is being evacuated make sure all rooms have been evacuated, please. 2) Enjoy the whimsical moments they are what help bring us together.

Please feel free to leave your comments and whimsical stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com.

Dare To Be Extreme

If you can’t impress yourself, then no one else really matters.
Laurell K. Hamilton

Tomorrow, we will be taking time to honor the men and women who have died defending our country with a national holiday known as Memorial Day or Decoration Day. This time-honored tradition became a federal holiday in 1967 but was celebrated long before by decorating the graves of fallen soldiers with flowers, flags, or coins and in many communities grave side ceremonies by the local veteran’s organizations. Did you know that the coins left on grave stones have different meanings to those visiting the graves? A penny symbolizes that someone paid their solider friend a visit, a nickel means that the person trained at boot camp or other military training course with the fallen solider, a dime stands for a someone who had the honor to serve along the deceased solider, and a quarter signifies that person was at their side when they died. This practice continues across our country.

Other countries have similar practices for remembering their fallen soldiers along with a designated time for a moment of silence, which I suggest we do now.

Thank you.

Australia celebrates Anzac Day, on April 25 to honor those who fought in World War I. Netherlands’s Dodenherdenking “Remembrance of the Dead” on May 4th celebrates the souls lost since World War II. England’s Remembrance Day and Belgium’s Armistice Day on November 11th marks the end of World War I. Losing a loved one is hard enough but losing them in battle is unimaginable. Thus, it is important to remember why these days exist.

It has often been said that after World War II Memorial Day became more about the beginning of summer and time with family than about a day for tears and remembrance. It has become synonymous with hot dogs and picnics. When looking up things to do for Memorial Day in Arizona conquering the Flagstaff Extreme Obstacle Course is among the top of the list.

I went back to Flagstaff Extreme on Memorial Day a few years ago to conquer the largest obstacle course in the United States. The course is installed the Ponderosa Pines Forest 15 to 80 feet above the ground with over 80 obstacles suspended between the trees. I would say that my Grandpa Ed, who fought in World War II would have been proud that I rose to this personal test and conquered the physical and mental challenges the course presents, even if it took two tries. I felt that I honored those who lost their lives by not only thinking about them and their loved ones, but also by spending the day with my siblings doing something that took strength, courage, and forced us to lean on each other. Grandpa understood the importance of teamwork and often said it was the central unifying element for the allied forces in winning the war.

Flagstaff Extreme’s obstacles are separated into 5 courses allowing for breaks to be taken between each course. However, it is not for the faint of heart. The obstacles consist of rope bridges, ladders, tight rope walking, zip lines and everything in between on cables suspended high up in the trees. My favorite was the zip line skateboard. How many people have skateboarded 50 feet above ground on a board attached to a swaying, bouncing cable?

After an hour and a half to two hours of struggling and hanging on for dear life, you reach the last obstacle. Despite how in shape you thought you were, you are dripping with sweat, heavily breathing and your arm and leg muscles feel like Jello. The last test is only a 100-foot crossing that requires arm and leg strength. While the end is so close, ‘Can I make it?’ will cross your mind.

The first time I tried the course, about 2/3 of the way through, my arms were jelly and I could not hold my hands over my head. Once you climb down in the middle of the course, you must start over. As I was only on the second obstacle of the fourth course with several more difficult challenges to go that involved holding myself up, I climbed down in tears and vowed to get my redemption. On Memorial Day, a year later and a little wiser, I did get my redemption and finish the course. I wear the black achievement tee shirt proudly. It reminds me that with patience and hard work anything can be achieved.

My brother Todd is a great example of the family ‘I’ll die trying’ attitude. He too finished the course and had the bruises on his chest and under his arms to show it. When he reached the last obstacle, the horizontal rope ladder. He could barely move. He decided to hang his arms over the ropes and step across little by little holding himself up by the crook of his arms. The guide that keeps track of how everyone is doing, was on the ground yelling up to Todd, “Use your hands and lean back, it’s easier.” Todd quickly assured him, “I don’t need tips. I need new arms and legs.” With his legs shaking to hold himself up and his arms showing bruise marks from carrying most of the load, he inched his way across. It probably took 10 minutes to go 100 feet, but Todd had enough energy to let out a scream when he reached the platform. It took another 15 minutes before he had the strength to climb down.

Moral: 1) Never underestimate one’s abilities. 2) Remember the act of trying is the first step to completing your goal. 3) Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those we lost, but it does not have to be a day of tears, it can be a day of laughter as one tells stories of those loves ones.

My deepest gratitude goes to those who served and were not able to return and to their loved ones. If you have stories you would like to share feel free to leave a comment below or email zsmisadventures.com and your story may be future in a future blog.

A Daughter’s Tale

“She rinsed, Doctor, but she says she is too much of a lady to spit!”

I was not ladylike, not was I manly. I was something else altogether. There were so many different ways to be beautiful.
Michael Cunningham

I would like to thank Denise for sharing the following story. It is a great illustration of love being shown in a nontraditional way. A parent’s ideal of what is best for their child is rarely seen by the youngster with the same enthusiasm. However, an ” I love you” and an explanation goes a long way to preserving and enhancing a long term relationship. If you would like to share your stories you can do so as well at Zsmisadventures@gmail.com. Enjoy!

Next to the Bermuda Triangle, the disappearance of Amelia Earhart, and the success of the Gong Show, nothing is more mysterious than a relationship between a mother and daughter. My mother and I have known each other a long time, and yet I sense there are still moments when she doubts that she brought the right infant home from the hospital thirty-one years ago.

I really think our mutual tensions began when I was just a toddler taking those first unsteady steps. Mother would follow me around saying things like: “straighten your shoulders, don’t slouch, keep your knees together and act like a lady.” That in some form continues to this day.

My being a lady has always been most important to my mother. My problem was that with five brothers, she was asking way too much. Still who could blame her for disliking a daughter who only wanted a six shooter for her first communion gift? And there were all the times she glowingly itched to dress me up. Repeating “You’ll be lovely in this”, she would try to slip a petticoat over my head. Recoiling at the idea of lace and frills, I would immediately become limp as lettuce left in the sun. It was impossible for her dress a body with the consistency of Jello. As punishment, I stayed home from most “special occasions”. I missed more birthday parties than my friend, Eddy Barrows, who was rarely invited because he had a reputation for throwing up after ice cream and cake. Still I never understood why, after I had aged enough to like dresses, she accused me of only wearing the freshly ironed ones. Mom would say, “You didn’t feel the need to wear this when it was under four days’ supply of dirty underwear at the bottom of your closet.” Well of course I didn’t. Even I saw the possible health issues of wearing clothes that had developed terminal mildew in the closet.

Like Denise, I too have had a few conversations with my own mother about being ladylike and the importance of first impressions. However, after I showed her the definition of ladylike in Merriam-Webster dictionary that discussion quickly morphed into one of empowerment, as she took it to mean. She wanted me to be proud and confident and treat myself in a way that demonstrated that to the world. She was not prepared to hear that Merriam-Webster defined ladylike as “3 a: feeling or showing too much concern about elegance or property; b: lacking in strength, force, or virility.” We laughed because only last year I helped my dad carry 250 pound wooden beams up the stairs that would later become the base of my bed, and that is not something for the physical or mentally weak. The next day I wore a gown to the Phoenix Symphony. It just goes to show even dictionaries get it wrong sometimes. No one is “ladylike” as we are fierce whether it be taking on the world in our pajamas or Prada. Embrace being unladylike.

Moral: 1) Always be true to yourself. 2) When changing the world dress in clean clothes as it leaves a better first impression. 3) Being ladylike is stifling.

My Mother the Warrior

The woman who is my best friend, my teacher, my everything: Mom.

Sandra Vischer

I would like to wish my mother, Claire, a spectacularly happy Mother’s Day. If it weren’t for all the prior family Claires, I would not have such a Wonder Woman Claire to call mom. While I am Linzie Claire, I still consider myself a member of the Claire Clan. May I continue with the hope that all mothers, whether, biological, adoptive, step or great grand moms have a fabulous Day. Helping your children grow and learn to love and navigate through this world is the hardest and often, the most overlooked, function in a family. A Happy Day, also, to all those women expecting a little one to emerge and fill their day with wonder; may your little one not bounce around on your bladder all day today.

My mom and I have had our ups and downs over the years, but our relationship is stronger for it. I know that if I am ever troubled or need someone to talk to, she will be there. She has already helped me face the worry and uncertainty of being a diabetic, of being bullied, hospital stays, of the first and second heart ache and of handling stress with deep breathing and meditation. Mom slept next to me on the hospital sofa for a week while I underwent forced seizures, 24/7 brain scans and every test imaginable to pinpoint where the seizures may orignate. She goes out of her way to make sure I know that I am loved and that she will be spiritually with me forever. That thought is comforting.

I enjoy the time we spend together getting pampered at our hair and nail salons, going to plays and concerts, or just watching some sappy television show. Her patience with my quirks is undeniable. I roped her into going to see Penn and Teller perform at the Mesa Art Center. She waited with me for over an hour so I could meet and get a photo with them. One of our favorite memories was going to the midnight opening of a magical Harry Potter movie and the foggy haze that greeted us as we walked out of the theater. The misty vapor turned each parking lot light into an expanding rainbow of color. The wizardry of the movie followed us to the car. We both plopped into our car seats and sat for a moment. We finally looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Wow.”

Mom even made going to a Carrie Underwood concert more memorable. I went through high school in California watching her perform on American Idol. My mom and I would both call in and vote for her to go to the next round of the competition. After she won, we pinkie promised that we would go to one of her concerts someday. It was 11 years later in 2016 that we got our chance. Carrie was performing at the Sun’s basketball arena in downtown Phoenix. The concert was the week of my mom’s birthday, so my dad and I decided to buy tickets and surprise her. When the day came, we told her I got tickets through work to go to a Diamondbacks’ baseball game. My unit, for helping Foster Children, was to be honored on the field before the game. She was less than thrilled with the idea. Not only did she loathe the inaction of a 9-inning game, but also, she was experiencing bouts of shooting pain down her neck. We assured her it was for a good cause and we would only stay for about half the game. She reluctantly agreed.

We drove for half an hour listening to her groans at each bump in the road before boarding the light rail for another half hour ride. To ease the pain in her neck, she sat with her head down and missed all the Christmas lights that dotted the cityscape. As we exited the train and walked towards the arena, she asked with her head still hanging down, “Why are there so many women wearing cowgirl boots?” I laughed and reminded her, “We live in the West’s Most Western Town.” Mom didn’t notice that as we crossed Jefferson Street, we headed right toward the basketball arena, not left to the baseball stadium. Mom didn’t notice all of the Western Radio Station’s tents and banners and crowds in line for their giveaways. She didn’t comment on the country hits blasting from the plaza speakers or the cowboy hats the ticket takers all wore. In fact, she didn’t look up while we walked down the stands to the fourth row of seats before the stage. It wasn’t until we sat down that she looked up and realized we were not looking down at home plate. “Where are we?” she asked looking around in stunning silence. When I pointed to the three-story Carrie Underwood banner hanging behind the stage, her hands shot to her cheeks and she gasped, “I don’t have any make up on.”
That’s my mom and, maybe, yours too. Happy Mother’s Day.

Moral: 1) Be open to the memories you are making. 2) Share your spirit with those you love. 3) My mother is a Wonder Woman Warrior.

Please feel free to share your stories in the comments or email Zsmisadventures@gmail.com and it may end up in a future post.

And The Acadamy Award Goes To…

My Daddy was my hero. He was always there for me when I needed him. He listened to me and taught me so many things. But most of all he was fun.
Bindi Irwin

Anyone who has met my dad would agree that he is a blast to be around. He is someone who can light up a room just by being in it. He is a story teller and a craftsmen. He may be good with directions, but using them is another thing entirely. I can’t say that we have gone on one family trip without taking at least one wrong turn, thus refered to as taking a Melgreen short cut. He is intelligent, but easily distracted which results in countless trips to the grocery store without his wallet, looking for his glasses when he is wearing them, or walking into a hair salon and seeing a red haired woman and assuming it is my mother and going in for a kiss on the cheek ony to realize my mother is not the only red haired women in town. It is because of him I can carry on conversations about sports and actually enjoy them. He is one of a kind and I am lucky to call him dad.

When thinking of his birthday next week, I remembered the time my dad accidently became the center piece of a tv show back in 2014. My brothers from opposite coasts came to visit and wanted to go exploring. Having already hiked the Grand Canyon and visited every shop in Sedona, it was decided over tacos and margaritas that the Lava River Cave would fit their idea of sightseeing. The cave was only 14 miles outside of Flagstaff in the Coconino Forest. It is reported to be longest cave in Arizona at .75 miles. Armed with those two insignificant pieces of information, our exploration party of 4 adults and 3 kids were on our way.

As we left the pavement for a dirt road, we started to wonder if we were heading in the right direction. How many state parks have dirt roads for the grand entry? We finally saw a small sign hanging at an awkward angle with an arrow and the word ‘Cave’. Awkward because the word ‘Cave’ and the arrow were pointing down the base of the tree. We hung a left and eventually found a dirt clearing with a parked car. We parked and walked a few feet and found another small sign with an arrow pointing to a small hole in the ground. Cave Entrance. There was a couple in cargo pants, hiking boots and head lamps ready to enter. When the kids asked about their attire, I remember hearing, “It’s dark, it’s wet and you have to do some crawling”. We were in tennis shoes, shorts and only two of us had cell phones that were charged enough to provide light. After a short debate, the kids won. We wanted an adventure; and what an adventure we did get.

Once in the cave, we discovered the reasons for the hiking boots and headlamps. The cave flooring was damp river rock which proved slippery and 50 feet in you could not see your nose. With two phone lights and 7 people we had split into groups. We also quickly realized why everyone else was wearing pants and not shorts. The cave ranges from 2 feet to 30 feet high. The adults wormed their way through some openings while the kids crawled. Walking, stumbling, crawling and often just feeling our way for about 45 minutes we came to a fork in the cave. As we discussed which way to the exit, dad decided that he was too exhausted to keep stumbling along with his hand on my brother’s shoulder. “You see if that way is the exit. If it is come back and get me.”

We left my dad sitting on a rock in the middle of a fork in the darkest cave on earth.

He had been sitting for quite a while, when he saw spotlights scanning the walls of the cave coming straight at him. He could see shadows spraying the wall of the cave with slime. Then a voice, “Look we must be getting close. See their slime?” He could see intensified light on the slime, a camera man moving in for a closeup, and then back to three professionally outfitted spelunkers. “It looks fresh,” one of them said. “I agree, let’s get moving,” said another.

As one flashlight moved toward dad, he could see it was the camera man. He stopped about a hundred feet from the fork in the cave, turned and started filming the actors moving towards him with their flashlights scanning the cave walls. It was then that dad started making low grumbling sounds. All the lights stopped scanning and a voice could be heard, “Quiet, did you hear something?” It was then that dad stood up and screamed.

The professionally dressed spelunkers turned and ran. The cameraman turned and lit up dad.

Meanwhile the rest of us were crawling around trying to find the way out. It turns out the entrance and the exit are the same and the fork we did not take was a dead end. We had gone in a circle without seeing the side tunnel just inside the entry. My brother, Todd went back to retrieve dad still sitting on a rock at the fork in the cave. It wasn’t until dad and Todd reached us lunching at the car that dad pulled his glasses off and said, “No wonder I couldn’t friggin see in there, I had my sunglasses on.”

Moral: 1) Research is never a waste of time. 2) Before entering a darkened space, always check to make sure all light dimming eye wear is removed.

Please feel free to share your stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your story may be used in a future blog.

Here’s to More Birthdays to Come

Somewhere inside, we hear a voice. It leads us in the direction of the person we wish to become. But it is up to us whether or not to follow.
Pat Tillman

Tomorrow I will have been occupying space on this planet for 33 years. Like most, I am not a fan of aging. It is not so much the gray hair or the wrinkles that worry me, as there are entire indrustries dedicated to masking those signs. It is the thought that my child bearing years are, by the day, slipping away as my egg supply is running out. Sadly, I cannot search Amazon and order eggs with certain traits, at least, not yet. I still enjoy waking from the dreams of bringing my miracle child home from the hospital in a Sun Devil onesie. The thought that that may not happen is soul crushing. However, since immersing my life into child welfare, I have seen a future family that besides my own little Sun Devil, would also include an adopted little Devil. There are currently over 19,000 children in the Arizona foster care system and far too many are in need of a permanent home. I look forward to the day I get to make memories with my children like I have with my mom.

The last handful of celebrations, my mom and I try and do something relaxing and fun. In 2017, we took a short bumpy flight to Burbank to see one of my favs tapping his show. I couldn’t have been more excited to see Conan O’Brian in action. I donned my birthday girl shirt, a birthday crown and giant ‘Happy Birthday’ pin. I was not shy of being noticed. It worked, but not quite the way I imagined. We were featured during a segment piece of songs being made up about the audience members. My mom and I got the song, “She is going to a tapping of her favorite show, she is going to a tapping of her favorite show… tomorrow.” While I sat there bopping my head with a big smile on my face the camera zoomed in on my mother’s face for the finale. Caught off guard, her horrified expression were followed by some choice words. Conan shook his head, “She’s thinking of Ellen.” I can be seen laughing at the absurdity of the moment; she stole my thunder. I still tease her about that day.

Another awesome birthday memory was our girls weekend at The Buttes in Tempe. We got massages, pedicures, and laid out by the pool drinking mimosas. I felt like a movie star in my sun hat, polka dot bathing suit and giant ‘Happy Birthday’ pin. My mom and I got to chuckle as the man next to us fought with the waiter over who was buying us a mimosa. Luckily, they both did.

Last year I completed my first Pat Tillman Run. The Pat’s Run is great charity event. Pat Tillman, not only, played football locally at ASU, but also, for the Arizona Cardinals. In the aftermath of 9/11, he quit his 5 million dollar NFL career and joined the Army in 2002. As an elite Army Ranger, he was killed in the hills of Afghanistan by friendly fire on 4/22/2004. The Run is important because it not only is a way of remembering his legacy, but it is a way to build upon the values that he kept dear to his heart. It helps military families and veterans receive the educational tools and resources they need to reach their fullest potential as leaders.

This year’s memories will also be unique. Rather than sitting around the dining room table sharing cake and ice cream we will be sitting in lawn chairs in a giant circle in my grandma’s yard enjoying easy to distribute cupcakes. The only difference is we will have to speak a little louder. Mom and I will still have our mani/pedis, but this year will be done in the luxurious surroundings of the Salon de Madre.

Moral: 1) We choose how we approach the situations we are in. 2) Life is short, so don’t wait for a memory. Make them.

Please feel free to share your stories in the comments below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com and your story may be featured in an upcoming blog.

A Year Ago Today…

If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be!
Maya Angelou

A year ago to the day, I was sitting at my computer with my mouse pointer hovering over the publish button. I wondered aloud, if starting a blog was indeed a good life choice. I had already spent countless hours making my blog site look and feel the way I wanted, however, knowing little about the elements of good design, I was unsure what first impression it would make. The reasons not to publish raced through my mind: no one will read it, reading is a dying joy, it will not be interesting, and I am committing to writing something every week. I could not ignore the fear of negative comments, but then I thought “I can’t make everyone happy. I am not a jar of Nutella.” My last rumbling thoughts ended with – I am going to do this because I’ve always wanted to do it. So, I hit ‘PUBLISH’.

I am honored and humbled to say that after publishing my first post, The Journey Begins, I have gained followers outside my family and outside the United States. I was floored when I opened my WordPress account and saw that I had followers from France to my home island of Aruba. It warmed my heart to hear my grandma tell me how much she enjoys my blogs and looks forward every Sunday to the newest post. I have since heard the same from friends and followers that my blog brings them joy, and for some, a little laughter.

I have found that writing my blogs is not as easy as I first thought. I thought I could just sit down and spend 10 minutes and a blog post would be written. I am sure my aunt Julia, who has written a weekly sermon for more than 30 years, can chuckle at my naivete. I have spent a few hours every day thinking about topics, performing internet research on details, going thru old photos, etc. to make sure that this week’s endeavor is worthwhile and meets my expectations of offbeat interests. It is one thing to live a whimsically life and another to write about it.

I am grateful that I have kept daily journals since third grade. I page through them for inspiration and a laugh. For example, my eight-year-old self wrote only about the food we enjoyed on our family vacation from Phoenix to St. Louis to Chicago to Minneapolis and a few days in Colorado. Besides comparing the pizza in Chicago to that in Ouray, I did mention that we went white water rafting. I, probably, only mentioned that because the guide told me that I was so good at jumping from one side of the raft to the other that when I grew up, I could teach people about rafting.

What I hadn’t considered was that blogging was an awesome way to relieve stress, to share the importance of making memories and to spiritually connect to others. We all have days when things seem to go a bit off the rails. It’s writing about those days that make me laugh and realize that a life filled with billions of beautiful grains of sand, some little bits of worry, are good for adding flavor to my tropical island.

So, thank you all for helping me take the plunge into blogging and allowing me to share some whimsicality with you. You all are amazing. I enjoy your comments. Be well and stay whimsical.

Moral: 1) Don’t be afraid to try something new. 2) You are smarter, stronger, and more loved than you know.

Feel free to comment below or email zsmisadventures@gmail.com with your own stories that could be posted in a future blog.