A week until Halloween...any costume ideas?

It is that time of year again…the time when sanity hides in the closet while I try to figure out what I can wear to the annual Halloween party this time around. Some of my more memorable outfits I’d rather not don again. One year I went to a party dressed as a can of Pepsi. I won’t go into too many details, but it did involve a bed sheet tacked to my living room wall while I hand painted a Pepsi Logo.

In more recent years, I have gone to parties as a Geisha, a Jawa, and Maleficent (the wonderfully evil queen from Sleeping Beauty). This year I wanted to go as Medusa, but my size sold out quickly and now I actually have to use my imagination to come up with something suitable (and darn if that snake headpiece wasn’t a show stopper!)

Right now, I am open to suggestions. Just remember that in spite of the obvious differences in the aforementioned costumes, they all have one thing in common…body camouflage. I pass on anything sleeveless, backless or showing leg above the knee. This will be subject to change AFTER the circumferential body lift, wing removal, breast reduction, thigh-plasty and neck lift! All those buxom serving wench and French maid costumes will just have to wait until well after all the surgery!

A Tough Week for Wildlife…

Staying within a 30-minute run for a cheetah from the animal compound in Zanesville gives one pause. I was happily ensconced in my rental for the night when the local news came on warning of the major exotic animal release. Law enforcement reacted quickly. It was necessary for them to do so. The farther afield these animals roamed from their habitat, the more danger existed for the public. It was very close to nightfall, and they needed to act before they were unable to see the animals. Tranquilizing was not an option, since animals often run for a bit before dropping, and if they happened to run into brush or woods, might have eluded the officials until the sedation was no longer effective.

I am not in favor of shooting animals, but in this case it was an absolute necessity. The entire blame for this exotic animal slaughter rests on the head of the man who released them. Did he really think that those animals would not be put down the minute the release was noticed? If he loved those animals as much as he claimed, he would have donated them to a zoo, where they could be cared for properly. If he had money issues, as was reported in today’s news, he could have sold them to pay his debts. But releasing dangerous animals on an unsuspecting public was definitely not in the animals’ best interests. I don’t rejoice in this man’s death, but it appears there is one less maniac for the world to tolerate.

Make that two. I certainly don’t rejoice in the death of any human being, but one can only hope that the world will be a better place without Moammar Gadhafi. I do think it is sickening to see video of the final moments, and the absolute celebration of his demise. I am grateful to live in a country where I hope to never see a level of repression so extreme as to incite my fellow Americans to celebrate the death of our former leaders, whether we personally liked or disliked them.

Vitamins are bad for me? Really?

The latest and greatest in research studies, announced this week, is that multivitamins may be dangerous for women. This pronouncement is based on a study of approximately 39,000 women who, since 1989, have taken a multivitamin every day. This observational study found a slightly higher risk of death among women taking dietary supplements, including multivitamins, folic acid, iron and copper.

Let’s hang an overlooked fact out there. The average age of a participant at the beginning of this study was 60. Fast forward…20 years. The average life expectancy in the United States is between 78.5 and 80.2 years. I consider any person who makes it to 80 to be defying the odds. Now explain to me how a slightly elevated risk of death in a group of women whose average age at the end of the study was 80 can be blamed on the vitamins. Maybe we should be blaming advanced age?

I don’t know about you, but I will continue taking my vitamins!

I am an American....

My heritage is Irish, but I was born here. My parents were born here. My grandparents were born here. I was also born and raised Catholic. I am now on the record.
 
When I vote, I do not vote for someone based on their heritage or their religious beliefs. As I watched the news today, I saw where some supposed Christian preacher called Mitt Romney’s religion a cult. This is obviously a political tactic designed to scare the good Christian voting public.

I am old enough to remember the naysayers loudly warning the public that if John F. Kennedy was elected, the United States would be ruled by the Pope. I have heard some say that if a woman is elected president, the country will be subjected to hormonal swings. I also heard people say that if Obama was elected, the government would be run by everyone from Louis Farrakhan and the NAACP to Islamic Jihadists.
 
I was too young to vote for Kennedy. Since then, I have voted for both Democrats and Republicans for president, depending on what I perceived as the intelligence and agenda of the candidate and with no thought of ethnicity, gender, or religion. When will people put aside their prejudices and try to take a wider, more objective view of the candidates, leaving religion and ethnicity out of the mix and basing their decisions on what makes sense, rather than on their prejudices?

In a related note, it seems that the Westboro Baptist Church planned to demonstrate at the funeral of Steve Jobs. Evidently they felt he was a horrible sinner because he had a “huge platform” but he “gave God no glory and taught sin” to those using his inventions…which of course he did not really invent, according to the Westboro leadership. Kudos to the Jobs family for having a small private service. I saw no news about a demonstration taking place.

Today on CNN, I watched as someone from Syria went on and on about Steve Jobs being Syrian. Yes his father was Syrian. His mother was American and of Swiss-German heritage. But Steve Jobs, like me, was born an American. It doesn’t matter what his heritage is. He was born here. His mother was born here. Millions of Apple computer users and owners of iPads, iPhones, and every other i-gadget on the market don’t care if his father was Syrian. Steve Jobs was an American in every sense of the word.

What I am wondering is, how many of those who don’t give a damn about Steve Jobs’ father being Syrian, still ascribe to the theory that President Obama is not an American because his father was Muslim and he spent some of his childhood in Indonesia? I say, get over it. The President is as American as you, I, or Steve Jobs. He was born here, his mother was born here.
 
To those who still hang on to that ridiculous theory, maybe you should be more worried about Steve Jobs’ parentage. It is quite possible that when all is said and done, Steve Jobs’ influence on America and the world may be more far-reaching than President Obama or any other American president in recent history. 

Let that one sink in and swirl around for a while. I’m sure someone out there will be quick to theorize that our whole culture is going down the drain due to Steve’s inventions, and it is surely all part of a Syrian conspiracy!

Memories of 9-11…the unanswered phone

I was running a few minutes late for work that fateful Tuesday morning, and I pulled into the parking lot just as the announcement came over the air that a passenger liner had stuck the first tower. I grabbed my purse, hurried into the building, and raced to my office. I announced to all who would listen that a plane had hit the Trade Center and everyone started searching the web for information…everyone but me. I was dialing my phone, desperate to reach my son. When the second tower was struck, I dialed faster. And so began the worst five hours of my life.
 
Chris was in New York City on job interviews. We had talked before he left, and he had told me that he was very excited to have an interview at 9 a.m. on Tuesday morning in the World Trade Center. He thought it would be a neat place to work. But as we watched film of the towers collapsing, mortified at the thought of the massive loss of life, I tried to stay calm as Chris’ cell phone remained unanswered.

Soon the stories were coming in from the Pentagon and about the missing airliner that had come so close to Cleveland before heading toward the White House. I watched in horror, but I kept dialing. My husband got through to me around 11, wanting to know if I had spoken to Chris. By that time, I was on the verge of hysteria. Needless to say, no work was getting done in our office as we all took in the horror that was unfolding in our virtual backyard.

Around 2:30 in the afternoon, I dialed for the thousandth time, and he answered.
 
“Oh my God, Chris, where have you been? I’ve been calling you for five hours!”

“What’s up, Mom?”

“What’s up? The world is ending! Can’t you look out the windows in Newark and see the smoke?”

“I’m not in Newark.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Perry. What’s going on?”

“Then you don’t know?  Terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Center towers around 9 this morning. They both collapsed, killing thousands. The towers are gone. The Pentagon was hit, too. And a fourth plane crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. I thought YOU were in one of those towers. You had a job interview this morning, didn’t you?”

There was long moment of silence.

“Yes, I did have an interview, but I finished my Monday interviews early, so I called the guy at the Trade Center and asked if I could come in Monday afternoon instead. He said yes.  I interviewed early and headed back to Ohio. I got in around 2:30 a.m. and didn’t want to wake you or Dad, so I went to Brian’s and crashed there. I just woke up.”

Chris was profoundly affected by that massive tragedy, and I am sure that he still wonders about the twist of fate that kept him far away from that place where he was scheduled to be at that moment.

Though eternally grateful that my son was spared on that horrible day, I experienced five hours of the most intense fear I have ever known waiting for Chris to answer his phone. And I am haunted still by thoughts of the thousands of mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, and friends who spent hour after agonizing hour dialing phones that were never answered.

More important than ever...

I know I made light of my bucket list in my last post.  Let me amend that right now.  My friend Gloria passed away today.  A month ago, this was something no one saw coming.  She was from a family where longevity reigned supreme.  She was vivacious and gregarious and always involved, be it theater, community, work, or friends.  Gloria had life...a lot of people just exist.  I always envisioned her acting and directing and getting on with it until she was a cute little 90-year-old star. 
But that was not to be.  A nagging backache, at first ignored, then not immediately diagnosed, turned out to be a cancerous death sentence.  Those who knew and loved her will have a large space in their lives that will be quite difficult to fill.  Although Gloria led a full and rich life, I'm sure there were many things she still wanted to do, be they small or large, simple or unique.  She was not one to be satisfied with the status quo.

And in that, we should all take heed.  Don't stop learning; try new things; expand your mind and your life; because you never know when it might end.  I know I will be taking my bucket list quite seriously from now on. 

Jack Nicholson has nothing on me!

When I turned 40, the FIRST time, I decided to make some major changes in my life. I took stock and realized that I was turning into my mother, so I made a bold decision not to go gently into that good night. My first project was to not get older, so I concocted the “Betsy McMillan Quantum Theory of Aging.” It goes something like this. When you turn 40, you automatically subtract 10 years. Then you only age 1 year for every two chronological years. It works like a charm, but eventually you get back to 40 for a second or even a third time, so you start the process all over again.

The second change was my health. I was severely obese, so I proceeded to do everything humanly possible to lose weight and keep it off. This actually included becoming a dual-certified personal trainer. Granted I don’t LOOK like a personal trainer, but I am pleased to say that today, I weigh 220 pounds less than I did when I was 40. I still have a little way to go.
 
Another thing I created during this process was the Betsy McMillan version of the Death March. I discovered that if I left the house with all good intentions and started walking, I was prone to stop short due to tiredness, rain, cold, wind, snow…you name it. But if I got in the car with my other half and had him drop me 2 miles from home, I was totally motivated to get back to the house. Neither rain, nor wind, nor snow, nor exhaustion prevented me from finishing the two miles because there was no other choice AND because I was walking toward home the whole way (a wonderfully positive psychological component for one as chronically lazy as myself).

The third change was that I wanted to travel. I had literally never been anywhere. Once I made that decision, I called my friend Bonnie and talked her into running away from home for several days. We headed out for parts unknown, namely Savannah GA, and had a fabulous time. It didn’t matter that we were staying at Motel 6 and Tom Bodett had the light on for us…it wasn’t Ohio. Six months later, we headed for Vermont for a week. Six months after that, New Smyrna Beach - Orlando FL was our destination. After that I began braving the travel by myself. My solo destinations include Vermont, Seattle and Bellingham WA, Las Vegas, Chattanooga and Nashville TN, Huntsville AL, Greensboro NC, Detroit MI, St. Louis MO area and on and on. I love to travel.

I also began writing books. Since my “first” 40th birthday, I have managed to get multiple non-fiction books on the market. I knew I would have to make appearances, and since I was nervous about speaking in public, I began singing with a guitar player (the incredible Forest Ratliff in a duo gig that lasted 9 years), and I joined Toastmasters International to hone my skills. I have since used those skills in radio and TV interviews, no less.

I’ve ridden in a hot air balloon. I drove to NJ with my future (now actual) son-in-law and tried out for the X-Factor Auditions. I sang the National Anthem solo at the Captain’s stadium before a game.

So what comes next? I am compiling a bucket list of sorts…things I want to achieve before I hit 40 for the “second” time. The list includes many things, from losing the balance of the weight to get to my original goal, eating healthier, completing three novels that are already well on their way, putting a series of kiddie books on Kindle and Nook for download (already in the works), and finding a way to get that niggling postcard book, now renamed “Secret Angel” out to the appropriate audience. The “list” has been on my mind for several days now, and I keep adding to it as new and more wonderful things occur to me. I am open to any and all suggestions. I am completely convinced that when I am really old (when I hit 40 for the “third” time), I will be able to write one hell of memoir of my after-40 adventures!