Thanksgiving: It’s All a Matter of . . .
After Christmas, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I love its fall-ness—the pumpkins, the apples, the squash, the crisp cold air, the bare trees, and the piles of leaves. It’s when I finally make peace with summer leaving and fall, then winter, coming. I have a favorite nubby red sweater (yeah, it’s getting worn) and nearly matching clog-like comfy shoes that I always end up wearing the day before, while prepping. You know—food shopping, putting the finishing touches on the cleaning (which I never actually finish), whipping up the pumpkin cheesecake and the fruit salad, humming “I will give thanks to Thee. . . . ” I have found through the years that Thanksgiving is a matter of perspective, and this year was no exception. . . .
Excerpt from Letters to Sam: “The Smell of Peace”
Dear Sam, Prejudice and hatred have probably been around since we lived in caves. And I’m sure they will not disappear during your lifetime. But perhaps we’ll be better off if we learn more about where they come from. At least that is a beginning. Often, prejudice begins with a feeling that we ourselves are insecure. In order to feel better, we are drawn to people who look, think, or act like we do. That generally works just fine—unless we still feel insecure. Then we might convince ourselves that we are superior to other groups. We might even come to believe that people in other groups are somehow less than human. But on both sides of any stereotype, any conflict, or any war, we are all human. We want the same things, regardless of our external differences. All of us want peace, security inside and out, and the chance to give and receive love. . . .
Empty Nest? If Only!: Gen Y and the Failure to Launch
What is it with so many of the 20-somethings (often referred to as “Gen Y,” or the “Millennial Generation”)? They don’t seem to want to be as independent as we Baby Boomers did at their age. I was itching to get out of my parents’ house after I finished college, although it took a somewhat demanding peer to convince me that I could. Not so with my kid. . . .
What Shoppers Really Want
Honestly, I was so over it. Shopping, I mean. I could stroll through a mall with impunity, expose myself to the blandishments of Neiman’s, Nordstrom, Macy’s, Lord & Taylor, Bloomingdale’s, Pottery Barn, Restoration Hardware, Sears, Victoria’s Secret, you name it, and want—not a thing! The grand panjandrums of fancy merch could dangle anything in front of me—nice big dark-green emeralds, cozy sheepskin boots, high-end washer-dryer combos in designer colors—and I remained indifferent, unmoved, untempted. . . .
Features . . .