The BEE Attitudes Column Archives

as seen in Positvely Naperville Newspaper

The BEE Attitudes - June 2008

It’s a Wonder-Full Life

I wonder a lot. From time to time I find myself staring out the window wondering what my Positively Naperville column should be about this month, or what to cook for dinner, or which plants in the garden to dig up and move, or when the little wren singing in the back yard will finally get a wife.  Other times I wonder what my adult kids are doing or how many new gray hairs are lurking under the cover of Clairol.

When I’m in the airport I wonder where people are going and if they are glad to be traveling or not.  Sometimes it’s obvious tell by the looks on their faces and in their posture, but not always.  I wonder what people’s names are.  He looks like a Brian, she looks like a Tiffany.  I wonder what life will be like in 10, 20, 30 years.  I wonder if my husband’s prediction that hands-free cars will actually happen in our life time.

There are times when my wondering turns into real wonder.  Today I was in wonder about the annuals in my garden.  It struck me, as I was digging in the dirt that I plant these for no other reason than I like to look at them.  There is neither agricultural nor nutritional value to what I plant– it is purely for my own sensory enjoyment. 

Then I thought about all the people in places I can’t pronounce or spell scratching in the dirt too.  Children and their parents scraping the hard earth for some plant to eat - looking for a shaft of wheat, a radish leaf, or a wild onion to quench their hunger.  People who live in places where, as Bono sings, the streets have no names can do no more than wait.

I wonder what would happen if every adult household in Naperville sponsored one child from World Vision.  At a cost of only $35 a month, the amount of an average small dry cleaning bill, a life would be saved.  I wonder what would happen if every child in Naperville gave 17¢ a day, that’s only $1.19 a week, to provide one nutritious meal – every day – for a child helped by Feed My Starving Children. 

I wonder how I’ll feel knowing I helped a child live.  I’m not waiting to find out.

The BEE Attitudes - May 2008

It’s Still Funny

There are some things we can always count on even when it seems hopeless.  The seasons, the power of love, God, virtue, and a sense of humor, to name a few. 

Laughing is good for you.  Sound research has proven this so I won’t waste any of my 400 words on that.  Let me illustrate this with a true middle of the night story. 

When my son was young he would sleepwalk when anxious.  One night, while still asleep he strolled into the bathroom and closed the door.  There was no nightlight, to external windows, it was pitch-black in there.  While in the bathroom he woke and to his horror he was lost and disoriented.  He pounded on the doors and walls while I slept soundly.  Finally making his way out this chamber of doom he exploded into my bedroom weeping and hysterical. 

Imagine my concern to wake from an obviously sound sleep to my precious trembling child gasping for air and trying to answer my question, “Pete!  What happened?”

With hysterical voice he stammered, “I got lost in the bathroom!!”

I snickered.  “What?”

Again, with more emotions, “I got lost in the bathroom!!”

I couldn’t seem to help myself and laughed out loud, but was quickly scolded, “Mom! It’s not funny!”

Still unable contain the laughter I answered, “Yes, Pete, it is.”   At first he was confused by my reaction and then his tears succumbed to my laughter and before long we were both hugging and laughing on my bed.  To cap the humor fest we went into the kitchen for a 3 o’clock in the morning bowl of cereal before going back to sleep.  That was funny too.

What could have been a trauma has turned into one of our favorite funny middle of the night stories.  When it seems hopeless – look harder – just because the sky is filled with snow clouds, even for five months during a Chicago winter, remember the sun is still there, just hidden temporarily. 

Or, when you find yourself lost in the bathroom keep looking until you find the door…it’s there!  I promise you, it’s there.  And on the other side?  Well, see for yourself.

The BEE Attitudes - April 2008

Second Chances

A few years ago I was invited to speak to a Charismatic African American Baptist church about the BEE Attitudes.  They were planning an all-day Saturday retreat and asked me to be the first keynote speaker. 

It was a beautiful fall day and I arrived at 8:15 a.m. [75 minutes early] to make certain all the technology I toted along worked right.  The place was locked up tight as a drum.  I knocked on the door, no answer.  I walked around the building in this unfamiliar neighborhood looking for someone who could let me in, but there was no one in sight.  I sat in my car waiting until 20 minutes later a gentleman arrived to open the church.  Lesson number 1: when you make a presentation find out what time they want you to arrive. 

Others strolled in and went about their business of setting up registration tables and such.  Everything was going well for me until the Emcee arrived.  She was perfectly coiffed and wearing a lively blue silk suit, pearls, silk hose and pumps.  She looked like she was going to an evening wedding. 

In my mostly white Lutheran church, Saturday mornings are casual.  We wear jeans, khakis or Dockers with shirt or sweater.  I figured since I was the speaker at this event I should dress up a bit more and wore black slacks, white oxford blouse, a yellow fleece cardigan embroidered with bees.

The other three speakers arrived wearing evening attire – the headliner wore a long beaded gown with jacket.  Lesson number 2: know what to wear.  In order to make a positive impact I had a lot to overcome beginning with being the only white person in the building and seriously under dressed.  Was I offensive?  Oh, God I hoped not.

While speaking I walked around the sanctuary and up and down the center aisle.  Never once did I even pause behind the lectern on the altar.   Lesson number 3: understand the culture.   Each speaker who followed me planted herself squarely behind the clear acrylic lectern and spoke from there. 

Through grace, the BEE Attitudes’ message transcended all my gaffes and I was invited back this summer and certainly won’t make the same mistakes twice. 

The BEE Attitudes - March 2008

Irish Engineering

A toast to the Irish.  While I can legitimately claim this royal heritage through my dear departed grandmother Katie Brennan we are all Irish one day a year.  On St. Patrick’s Day, we festoon ourselves with the “wearing of the green”, raise a pint of Guinness (or if your under 30 some kind of green beer) and toast the venerated patron saint of Ireland, the Irish… and the profession of engineers.  Yes, that’s right, he’s the patron saint of engineers.   

Talk about a lead balloon.  All that gaiety smashed.  Just think about it; the same guy who drove the snakes out of Ireland and taught wee lasses and lassies the concept of the holy Trinity through the use of the shamrock’s three-leafed clover, has also been designated special protector of engineers.  Hmm. 

So, what have the Irish engineered?  I had to look that up.  To my happy surprise it is the Irish who invented the seasoned potato chip!  Of course!  There have been other inventions and discoveries by the Irish, for example shorthand, which has gone the way of the typing pool; and Pulsars which are the neutron stars we read about in junior high school science class; and the Beaufort Wind Velocity Scale which sailors must know to determine how many sails should be raised or lowered.  Come on, not many of us use this information.  But, open a kitchen pantry in America and you are likely to see an open bag of seasoned potato chips. 

Fortunately the potato famine ended and the unflavored potato chip had been created.  They were novel but tasteless.  Along came Joe “Spuds” Murphy who had an idea to spice up this plain root vegetable.  His company began small with the immediate family frying up the crispy delights.  Eventually, they all got tired of eating the same ordinary chips with their cod and evening pints of stout so “Spuds”  set his mind to make something tastier for his mother, Mrs. Murphy, and went on to produce the first seasoned potato chip!  Oh, its been heaven on earth ever since. 

Saint Patrick…Ireland…Engineers….Potatoes…Yes, I admit that fits.   

On March 17th after I enjoy corned beef and cabbage at Quigley’s Irish Pub I’m going home to open a bag of flavored potato chips and silently (chomp) give St. Patrick (chomp, chomp, chomp) my deepest appreciation.

The BEE Attitudes - February 2008

It’s Not All Hearts and Flowers

Come with me for a ride.  Back to summer – the day is hot, the sky is blue and freckled with white clouds.  The smell of cotton candy permeates the air, threading through the long lines of children, parents, teenaged girls and lovers.   Hypnotized by the aroma and captivated by the screeching sounds of the giant gears you wait with them, ticket in hand, eager to approach the grizzled old man holding guard.  His jet black stare judges every child in line.  The younger ones hope breathlessly they’re tall enough.

Necks crane toward heaven all eyes are on the mammoth frame as it jerks, rotates a few degrees and rocks to a halt.  The hard leather benches swing precariously 10-stories into the air. 

Two by two the line in front of you gets shorter and shorter until it is finally your time to step up. The silent old man takes your ticket and your hand while easing you onto the rocking bench and with one practiced push thrusts the steel bar across your waist. CLUNCK!  There is no turning back now.  In an unexpected jolt you are pulled up and back.  Again.  Again. Until all the seats have been exchanged for new riders.

Inching backwards toward the sky your perspective changes.  From atop the mighty Ferris Wheel the whole earth takes on a new look.  Tree tops are below, people look small, houses become miniature – you think maybe you can even see as far as the ocean!  As the great arc begins its descent that feeling in the pit of your stomach begins to flutter.  There is nothing in front of you, nothing at all to break your view.  Up and back it goes again.  Faster this time. Six, seven, eight rotations and the whole process of replacing riders begins again. Two by two all are asked to disembark. 

With rubbery legs and sweaty palms you step back down to earth.  Eye-level again with the world you give a quick wink and a jump before you head to the back of the line to do it all over again.

February 14th is FERRIS WHEEL DAY! Give your honey a kiss, some chocolates and a promise to ride the great Ferris Wheel next summer. 

The BEE Attitudes - January 2008

A New York Moment

The layers of sound join together in a cacophony of vibrations you can only hear in New York City.  The percussion is in my ears every moment.  Conversations in every language I recognize, and more that I don’t, surround me.  The traffic patterns are choked with lurching jumps and  screeching halts.  Horns blare, delivery van doors slam, sirens wale, shopping bags rustle, taxis play chicken with pedestrians … it’s Christmas in New York! 

It’s cold outside but I don’t seem to notice, there are too many distractions.  The sky is bright but I don’t need my sunglasses because the skyscrapers allow me to live in their massive gray shadows which shield me from Sol’s warming rays. 

On a stroll one night I pass the Midtown Fireman’s Memorial Plaza where a live nativity scene with Joseph and Mary kneeling next to the manger are engulfed by voices of carolers who flank them on three sides.  They are FDNY’s finest.  “Gloria in execlsis Deo” draws great media attention with paparazzi-like photographers vying for the best angle to capture this isolated holy moment in time.  What strikes me is: 1) a distinctly Christian encounter on a public plaza and, 2) the few who stop to watch or join in the singing.  I wish my home town hosted a live nativity in the public square.

This city is my city – and its your’s too.  If not before 9-11, certainly after.  Certainly now.  This city reminds us all to live each day as though it really matters.  The ball will drop from the top of One Times Square, just down the street from where I’m sitting in Maxie’s Restaurant on 48th Street, and a new year will begin. 

New years are about hoping for something better; hoping for a better world, a better peace, a better relationship with someone, a better crop of leaders, a better job, a better body (although I would rather find a better piece of New York cheesecake in my home town). I urge you to join me today and for the next 365 - take a moment to hope, pray and work sincerely for something better.