MOVING ON.....2024

A Note From The Author: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2024!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2024 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!

Thursday, March 30, 2017

BEACH THERAPY AND THE MAGIC KEY




A series of essays.....


DISNEY CRUISE SHIP DEPARTING FROM PORT CANAVERAL


.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

There are numerous reasons why we migrate to a beach as often as possible. We go to relax, walk in the sand, play in the surf, luxuriate in the sunshine, feel the salty mist on our faces and smell the pungent odors of the 'briney sea'.....each reason can be as personal and individualistic as the person making the pilgrimage.

Each time I feel truly alive, generally renewed, and the most creative is when time is spent near a body of water. From the ocean to an inland lake, a rushing river to a mountain stream, life continues to ebb and flow around me and places my soul in a calm, meditative state.

For most of my life, I have firmly believed in something I've lovingly labeled, 'beach therapy.' 

Living in Central Florida and being surrounded by the vast Atlantic to the east and the shimmering Gulf of Mexico slightly further to the west, there have been ample opportunities these past twenty years to place my theory of 'beach therapy' into motion. Sad news that overshadowed our lives a few weeks ago decisively amped up the need to employ the amazing healing powers of the beach and attempt to minimize depression while aligning a healthy new perspective on the world for both Dan and myself.


KENNEDY SPACE CENTER AND
ROCKET LAUNCH PADS IN THE DISTANCE

This latest heartbreaking dose of reality all began with a simple phone call from my husband.

Amazing friends had been staying with us over the weekend and were due to leave on the second phase of their Floridian excursion that Monday morning. Dan needed to head back to work that day and, with mug-of-hot-coffee in hand, he was out of the door by seven. 

Not long afterward, my guests and I were sitting around the kitchen table in full 'chatter mode' discussing their return to our house for two additional nights in about a week and a half, when the phone rang. It was Dan. His voice was soft, almost mellow, with a slight tinge of breathlessness. I knew something was wrong and, I wasn't certain I wanted to hear about it.

"Honey, Frank's gone. He had a heart attack." echoed through the technological ethos that separated us. There always seems to be a long, unconscionable pause between thoughts after hearing this kind of news. It's as though the mind, while refusing to grasp reality, infuses air bubbles into the brain forcing mental hiccups. "Are you okay?" I asked him.  "I love you. Now go back and do what you have to do. We'll talk this evening," was my reply. Details over the phone line...not adequate or necessary.

Upon arriving at his office, he noticed the mood for a Monday morning was exceptionally somber. Dan's boss, Rich, came into his office and slowly sat down. "Dan, Frank passed away on Saturday," whispered Rich. "He survived two horrific bouts of cancer and came through like a trooper but, his heart couldn't take it and he died of a massive heart attack after he'd been working around in the yard all morning. I wanted to tell you myself."

Frank was fifty-eight years of age with young grandchildren and so much more 'living' to look forward to.

SEA GRAPES THRIVE IN
THIS HARSH ENVIRONMENT

Frank's position within the company was an assistant superintendent and Dan had worked side-by-side with him for almost a year. Recently, I enjoyed the company of this gentle, kind man and his adorable wife at the Company's Christmas party several months before. He spent at least an hour describing his 'Moments of Zen' when he attended to his hydroponic gardening. We learned so much from Frank and he left a glowing, everlasting impression upon me that evening.

The loss of a contemporary can ignite a personal sadness within us that is emotionally difficult to extinguish, even after the passing of time.

It was a few days later that Frank's family offered the details of his memorial service and 'celebration of life' which was scheduled to take place in Rockledge, Florida, due east of Orlando. My mind began spinning with ideas in the hope of relieving some of the pain and anguish that Dan was experiencing. My first thought, naturally, was a healthy dose of 'beach therapy!' 

The Friday before the service, I packed a change of clothes, towels, beach blanket, a light lunch with plenty of water, sunscreen, my flip-flops and his sandals. I could not forget the magic key I now possessed that would allow us through the locked gate and offer direct access to one of the world's most beautiful beaches along the Atlantic coastline: Cape Canaveral Beach.


MY 'MAGIC KEY'

Using my key to enter the beach house that runs alongside the Olympic sized pool, we quickly change out of the somber attire that was appropriate an hour earlier and dash to deposit them back into the car. Slipping the coiled, iridescent green key fob onto my wrist, it's smoothness welcoming us to a world of sensory delights, we can whiff the scent of the sea as we approach the locked, private gate that is the only thing separating us from the Atlantic Ocean. 

You see, this is a private condominium complex on the beach at Cape Canaveral. A good friend owns several units and we are fortunate to be able to stay in one of them whenever it isn't rented out. Each time I come here, my fertile imagination conjures up the spirits of the astronauts associated with the early NASA program living in some of the older units here with their wives and children. They were young, free, intelligent, and so ambitious....life was promising with such great adventures to look forward to. What an amazing and hope-filled period of our country's history this must have been to live, laugh, and love in!! 


WATCHING THE CRUISE SHIPS
GO OUT TO SEA

Before unlocking the gate, I find myself, already, taking pictures of the cruise ships leaving through the deep channel of Port Canaveral, gliding along the shimmering blue waters like majestic giants clad in white armor and sporting enormous Royal Crowns, the letter 'X', and Mickey Mouse ears, just to sight a few.

The 'magic key' is slipped into the lock and the crisp creaking of the metal gate sends shivers down my spine. The excitement level is high because we know what wonders lie ahead of us. A cardinal sings his happy song in a tree that lines the boardwalk as we make our way onto the soft, sparkling sand. The bright, blue sky almost hurts our eyes as it melds with the azure water, nearly becoming one, solid entity.


A HANDSOME CARDINAL
SINGS HIS HAPPY SONG

I notice that Dan has picked-up the pace as he slips off his sandals in preparation for a brisk walk along the shoreline. Here the sand is hard-packed as the constant waves rolling in compress and compact the sand, shells, and vegetation until they feel like damp concrete beneath your feet.

"Which direction do you choose to walk today?" he asks.

"I choose to the right towards Cocoa Beach."

With the distinguishable outline of the Cocoa Beach Pier off in the distance, pulsing in the midday sunshine like a mirage offering possible shade and solace to weary desert travelers, we gently clasp hands and proceed to navigate the shallow ripples of water made by the last wave and linger on top of the sand just before being sucked back out to sea.


"SHALLOW RIPPLES"


Occasionally words are spoken but, for the most part, we listen to the familiar sounds of crashing waves, foaming madly on their journey inland. Shorebirds such as gulls, terns, sanderlings, herons, and egrets seem to line-up for their photo ops in-between looking for food by probing the wet sand with their bills. I pray they can stand still long enough for me to capture on camera their distinct curves and elongated shadows before scurrying off upon the approach of humans.


"DISTINCT CURVES AND ELONGATED SHADOWS"

Because we've made this particular walk so many times in the last twenty years, we instinctively know when we both wish to turn around and head north, back towards the Cape. With the lowering sun now warming the left side of our bodies and the pounding breakers roar at us from the right side for a change, the familiar sensations now flow in the opposite direction creating new sights and sounds for our senses to delight in. 

I can't even count how many times we stop to peer out at the horizon stretching out beyond the cruise ships, sailboats, yachts, and dark shadows of commercial vessels navigating the Atlantic shipping routes. Our individual and personal thoughts float out to sea riding the stiff breeze like wishes and dreams collected just for this moment in time. 
  

CAPE CANAVERAL BEACH

The loftiness of our appearance, heads held high, mingle delightfully with the new lightness of our demeanor and spirit as we close-in on the portion of beach we'd become so familiar with. Silently we approach the short, wooden boardwalk we'd navigated an hour before. Like small children enjoying the evening hours before bedtime, we do not wish to leave this magical place and turning towards the sea, we hold hands as our sun-kissed smiles blossom across faces glowing pink from the battering of the sea breezes.

"I feel so much better now," Dan said, as pure joy sprang from my heart in waves! "Thank you for suggesting this. I always tend to forget how healing it is to walk along the beach and not have to think about anything in particular."

"I know." What more was there to say as we kiss to the lingering tune of a cardinal's sweet song and turn back to the gate that, with the help of our 'magic key,' will take us into a new dimension; a new time that will remind us that there are things in this world that are much bigger than any of us.

OUR BOARDWALK
SURROUNDED BY SEA GRAPE


Inserting the 'magic key' into the lock and swinging open the gate as wide as possible, we re-entered the world with lighter hearts and brighter spirits. Not even our beloved beach could make us forget about the trials and tribulations we all must face daily. However, living with a renewed sense of Hope and Love can lift the spirit and lighten the heavy load we all must bear while navigating this journey called Life....


Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Thursday, March 23, 2017

COFFEEHOUSE CHATTER ~ ALICE IN SPRINGTIME





A series of essays and chats.....


ALICE IS ENCHANTED BY THE STUNNING NATURAL BEAUTY
OF THIS NEW LAND RECENTLY DISCOVERED


.....as seen through my eyes!




"Those who say there's nothing like a nice cup of tea for calming the nerves never had "real" tea. it's like a syringe of adrenaline straight to the heart!"

~~~The Cheshire Cat, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' by Lewis Carroll




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


The neighborhood coffeehouse is a refuge for those seeking conversation with friends, free WiFi, a cozy corner to create in, a good coffee and tea selection, as well as a little peace and solitude. You, my friends, will be able to come up with many more however, three places that make me feel subdued to the point of gentle whispers and soft, controlled movements are places of worship, libraries, and our local coffeehouse.

You might think otherwise about the noise level within our coffeehouse since most of us gather with the direct purpose of talking, reuniting with old friends, and conducting business. 

Even so, each time I swing open the large, double French doors, my visual consists of pockets of interesting people. Like music to my ears, my audio includes everything from the hissing of the espresso machine to the inquisitive verbal expressions of the barista trying to determine if an order is for 'here' or 'to go.'

Let's grab a cup of our own, take a comfortable seat, and sit back and listen to what today's chapter of "Coffeehouse Chatter" has to offer....


KEEP CALM AND SMILE
LIKE THE CHESHIRE CAT


 Introduction:

When last I snuggled into the corner seat of our local coffeehouse in order to observe and speculate upon the lives of those around me, I met a girl whom I affectionately named, Alice. Via her actions, I took it upon myself to build a story around Alice which could not be substantiated considering I haven't seen 'Alice' since then. That is, not until today......!

My original thoughts:

ALICE: (Swirling her teabag to the point of frustration. Waiting for someone to join her....soon. Lines crease her forehead. Her young, pretty face aging with each tick of the 'cup-'n-saucer' clock that hangs on the wall above her.) Well, Merry Christmas to me!!! And, I thought I was so smart! He'd better get here soon before I turn into a blubbering, hot mess!! I'm not ready for this. This wasn't planned. This is not how I wanted it to play out for us. Well, he's not going to run. (Her deep blue eyes squinting at the French door entryway) Neither one of us is ready to be a parent.... But, it will work-out. We'll make it work-out together because, damn it....I love him so much!

And, it appears that our beautiful, young Alice has lost her nerve, abandoned her tea and abruptly exited through the swinging French doors! Now, I sit here hoping that I wasn't, actually, right about our sweet Alice. That wouldn't be fair. I hope she's doing okay.




Today, let's listen in on the conversation between Alice, Brian, and Joe......


ALICE: (Speaking on her cellphone) Yes, I just sat down. And, I am not moving one inch until you get here. So, please hurry! It's March; it's Springtime and, I have so much to tell you! Soon, then?

(Sliding her cellphone back into her purse, a looming shadow slips between the sun-filled window and the small table where she sits sipping a tepid mug of decaf pomegranate green tea)

BRIAN: (Leaning on the back of the chair across from Alice) Alice? Alice Monroe? Is that really you, after all this time?

ALICE: What on earth are you doing back here in Small Town, USA, Brian? Didn't you head-off into the hills searching for bigger, greener pastures to graze in? 

BRIAN: Yes, yes I did. Hmm, may I sit down for a few minutes? It looks like you're waiting for someone to join you. But, I am so happy to see you again. May I get you a warm-up on your tea?

ALICE: No, thank you and, I am expecting someone.... Oh, just sit down! You always seem to get your way no matter what I say, anyway! (She instinctively swings her long, blond hair off of her shoulders with an exaggerated twist of her head).

BRIAN: (Gently placing his porcelain mug of strong Colombian brew on the table, he settles in) Alice, it's been over three years now. I never meant to hurt you. You have to know that. We were still so young with so much to think about and life got in the way. 

ALICE: Oh, I see, that's what you're calling it now.....life getting in the way? You've never been one to handle responsibility, Brian. Never. Probably still can't, if truth be told. (Tears welling in her eyes) I loved you! And, you left me. Simple as that. 

BRIAN: I called you, Alice. I wrote to you so often my hand should have fallen off from the effort. You wouldn't return my calls or write me back. I wanted you to join me in California and begged you to come out to see what life could be like out there, together. Eventually, I assumed you despised me for leaving you here and making a better life for myself out West.

ALICE: What I assumed, Brian, was that you loved me, too. That after all we'd been through together, you would never leave here, leave me. (Nervously swirling her teabag around in the chilled brew in her mug, she demurely looks up into his eyes) So, are you doing okay? I mean, are you happy out there?

BRIAN: Yes. (Pause) Her name is, Casey. 

ALICE: Casey....(Rolling the name in her mouth as if it were a glass marble)

BRIAN: She is why I'm back here, Alice. We're getting married the first part of August and I've brought her here to meet my parents and the rest of the family. 

ALICE: (After a long pause) I'm, actually, quite happy for you, Brian. I mean....I knew I could never contain you or your spirit for very long. Even after we lost the baby, our baby, I knew you weren't running away from me. You needed your freedom and you certainly would never find it here, not in this old town, anyway. But, I couldn't leave here. This place is a part of who I am. Kind of my 'comfort zone,' if you will.

BRIAN: Then, you're happy, Alice? (Gently holding both of her hands within his soft touch) I mean, has life been good for you? I've always needed to know. I let time fill-in the gap between us and it seemed to cushion the blow of the unknown for me.

ALICE: I never thought I'd be going down this road again, but I am happy now. Happy, content and ready for the future!! A few months ago I didn't think that was even possible. I was nervous, scared, and paranoid because I felt like I was reliving the past....our past to a certain extent. And, I was. My fear was that this small town girl would never grow-up and would always be hiding behind her emotions instead of building off of them. By, God! I have grown-up, haven't I?

BRIAN: Reliving our past, Alice? What do you mean?

(A deep, resounding voice hovers above startling both of them)

JOE: Well, if I were a jealous man, I would be asking you, sir, to step outside right about now! But, I know my Alice and there has to be a reasonable explanation for you two playing patty cake and looking so serious. (With a grin on his face, he extends a large, calloused hand for Brian to shake)

ALICE: (A loving smile spreading across her pretty face) Hi, Joe! This is, Brian...Brian Ryder. Brian, I would like you to meet Joe Saunders, my fiancee! 

(When Alice stands up to give Joe a kiss on his cheek, we see the faintest curvature of a 'baby bump' as she protects herself from hitting the table or spilling her tea)

ALICE: (Softly whispering into Joe's ear) The doctor says our baby is doing well and we'll get to meet him or her in early August! Couldn't be better timing.

JOE: I love you, Baby!



Okay. So, I was absolutely right while observing 'my Alice' last December. But, it wasn't such a horrible story for her, after all. Life takes time for us mere mortals to finally figure out. Somehow, we usually do....or, die trying! Now, I'm wondering what they'll name the little tyke. I'll keep sitting in my little corner and soon enough, I will find out!





Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved


Wednesday, March 15, 2017

LIFE IS WAY TOO SHORT TO BE SO SIMPLE



 A series of essays.....



TWO KIDS LIVING LIFE TO THE FULLEST


.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

When considering that the life expectancy span of men and women living in the United States averages out to be seventy-nine years (A 2012 Study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention), you would think that we would be elated by our progress within the last fifty to sixty years. And, judging by the statistics generated by Baby Boomer's parents that had been given an average life expectancy span of only sixty-one years, it's safe to say we've come a long way, baby!

And, we have.

Research in disease control within the last fifty years has elevated the quality of life by leaps and bounds. I know that's very simply stated considering the many set-backs we've experienced, including the HIV/AIDS epidemic beginning in the early 1980's. And, I haven't even broken down the numbers from above by race, social status, genetics, and so on.






But, that's not my point. Clearly, there are a multitude of reasons as to why the human average lifespan is what it is today in 2017. With a thirty-year rise in life expectancy at birth seen during the past century, we can assume that the improvements in public health have drastically reduced early-age mortality, allowing most people in developed nations to reach old age for the first time in recorded history.

Statistics, according to an analytically trained mind, can be a beautiful thing. In my world, these individuals are labeled 'Black and White' without having the capacity to see in multiple tones of gray. I find gray to be a pleasing, if not comforting, color for those who blend the Arts and Sciences in the form of Creative Art; artistic participation and expression both physically and visually. 

Leaning towards the statistics stated above, however, with regard to lifespans and how science has prolonged the length of time we might walk upon this earth, I will be the first to admit that this picture appears wrong and convoluted to me, lately. 

The simple and often terrifying fact of lives lost due to various diseases, has been haunting many of us to the point of shock and genuine depression. What used to be something, perhaps, experienced from afar, has now gained widespread notoriety as its sinister outcome touches our own lives and souls at almost every turn. 





Even though we are elated when hearing that someone has beaten their illness and is looking forward to sharing many more years with their family and friends.... Unfortunately, it can be the many sad outcomes that affect us deeply and fester within our subconscious like the 'horror movie' we should not have seen at such an early age. Death, especially when unexpected or deemed way too early, is haunting and frightening. 

We'd like to believe that we will all live out our life expectancy, whatever that may be at any given time, and enjoy a full and healthy experience throughout our years while doing so!

Life is a uniquely genuine experience that inevitably ends in death. As with all humans, we encounter death throughout our lifetime. It can rear its ugly head in our youth with the crippling loss of a beloved grandparent. Loss looms large and deeply disconcerting when Bootsie, your soft, purring friend, never returns to greet you with her sweet, delicate feline kisses upon your return home after a long day at school. And, the sudden loss of a young cousin in a car accident casts shadows on your world that never existed before and, instantly, gives you pause to reflect upon your own future at such an early age.

What throws my world into a tailspin today is the bombardment of this sad reality of life as it takes its toll by thrusting itself into every aspect of my human relationships. Granted, life begets death, eventually. I know that. But, dammit....I have, absolutely, no control over it!! 

Helpless.....

We are human, after all, and this one act, whether it is our own life or those of others around us being touched by the shadow of death, proves that we are all vulnerable right from the exact moment of our birth, even though it may take a long time for us to fully understand the process.

I fondly recall the captivating sense of humor of our next door neighbor who made us laugh and cry out with delight. His bout with cancer came to an end several weeks ago and has doused  the laughter and taken him away from three beautiful, extremely young granddaughters who will miss the tickles and giggles he lovingly afforded them.

Our son-in-law recently said his good-byes to his beautiful Mother after she lost her fight with pancreatic cancer. Sadly, from the beginning of her battle until the end was less than one year's time. Her life, although taken abruptly, will always be associated with copious amounts of vigor, passion, and genuine love for everyone she knew.

I know I always talk about social media and its effects on a world population that has come to find it difficult to relinquish its use. Because we have opened up our hearts and minds to the possibility of new friendships, especially via Facebook, we have encountered yet another means by which we share life (and death) with those we often have never seen face to face. Within the past four days, I have offered consolation to a good friend whose husband passed after his extended journey with cancer. Last Saturday, an author I have been friends with online for years lost her adult son to this terrible disease. The world has been deprived of his talent and genuine possibilities.

Being human means treating these relationships with as much depth of kindness and understanding as you would with someone you've personally known for years.

Recently, I had been introduced to a kind, imaginative and gentle man at my husband's company Christmas party. We spent several pleasant hours discussing his passion in life, hydroponic gardening. My husband had had the distinct pleasure of working with him for nearly a year before learning Monday morning he had suffered a heart attack over the weekend and lost his life at the young age of fifty-nine. 

Admittedly, it is most likely that my current age is increasingly haunting my thoughts of mortality. And, even though I have surpassed the years my own Mother lived in order to touch the lives of her children in such a profound manner, each year that I enjoy living beyond my Mother's sixty-two is a generous gift I will never take for granted.

Life is truly way too short to be believed to be so simple. At the very moment of our birth, we touch or reach out to so many people and, whether it is an intentional act or not, we cram as many relationships into our short time here on earth as possible. 

But, if we are lucky and play our cards right, out of the multiple shades of gray that comprise our short, busy, often complicated lives, we will be able to simplify our life as we age. 

Downsizing our homes and choosing to unclutter the 'stuff' we have around us, making more time for family and friends, sharing new journeys with someone you love, these are all positive steps towards simplifying our lives. And, even if we are fortunate to be able to tack-on several more years to our 'average life expectancy span,' we must never forget about or take for granted each and every day of the life we have.

Life is too short to be so simple.....simply because we are human. Our nature is to complicate everything around us. Until we age gracefully, utilize our common sense, and site sound examples of our own vulnerability, will we be able to steer ourselves in the right direction and onto the path towards a simpler life.

I firmly believe that when we accomplish simplifying our lives, our extra ten to fifteen years of life expectancy will be enjoyed to the fullest, understood in depth, and intensely appreciated no matter what fate hands out to us along the way. 

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved



Thursday, March 9, 2017

A GENTLE PROTEST





A series of essays.....



HOLDING OUR FUTURE
IN MY ARMS


.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Sitting alone in my work space, otherwise known as snuggling in a corner of the living room couch, i-Pad on lap, I luxuriate in the comforting household sounds that surround me.

Sometimes we hear the sounds that make-up our daily life. More often than we'd like to admit, we do not. Call it being   preoccupied, in deep concentration, or simply oblivious to what transpires around us....life is happening in many forms with each breath we take.

On this day, especially, I am taking the time to examine my life, my personal surroundings, and make note of each slight degree of difference that makes up my days of writing. After all, life is a rich artistic performance, full of nuance.

Today is particularly important because it is International Women's Day.....but, with a twist! "A Day Without a Woman" march and protest coincides with the celebration of women in general as it rallies for equal rights for women all over the world. The action is aimed at showing the economic importance and impact of women on society. And, yes....I'm ashamed that in the year 2017, women must continue the fight to be seen and treated as 'equals' alongside of men!

So, I am doing my part.

Today we are between guests staying here with us at our home in Florida. Part of living in this amazingly comfortable climate in Florida is celebrating the warm, non-humid days and cool, 'windows opened' nights that give us so much sleeping pleasure. Moving here from Michigan nearly twenty years ago, I know how blessed I am each time I think about all of the brutal winters spent up north.

Always having wanted to run my own Bed & Breakfast out of our Victorian home in Eaton Rapids, Michigan, I find the next best thing is to have as many relatives and friends stay down here with us whenever and as often as they can. This winter has been the fulfillment of this dream and, somehow, sharing the comforts of a home you've stockpiled with so much hard work and care with those you love, makes me happy. I, deliciously, compare it to enjoying the rich cream that floats up to the top of the glass milk bottle.

I began paying attention to the 'sounds of my day' while getting out of bed this morning and making a note of each one, beginning with the gentle drip, drip of freshly brewing coffee filling the carafe. I color most of my activities for the day in a 'gentle protest' that coincides with each and every woman who is actively marching her way into history along the streets of New York City, Washington D.C., Chicago, and Los Angeles and so many more places near and far. And, I am praying that 'she' is treated kindly by 'her' employer and/or manager if 'she' has had to call in sick or has bravely announced that 'she' will be marching instead of working at her job today.

Sitting here in my favorite work spot and sipping hot coffee from my preferred ceramic mug, I take pleasure in hearing the slightly grinding rumble of the dryer on the other side of the kitchen as it tumbles dry the pristine white sheets I will soon be making-up the guest bed with. Listening to the gentle tapping of my fingers on the keyboard as I type away is as comforting and natural as caressing my pet's head while snuggling on the couch watching television.

You might be thinking to yourself, "What is she talking about? She's working right now cleaning the house after the departure of yesterday's guests and before tomorrow's guests arrive and, she's been working on her writing since waking-up at six-thirty in the morning! She hasn't stopped working as a form of protest today!" And, from the looks of it, you would be right.

Sitting here alone today without the pleasant ring of friendly laughter emanating from the stories that resurfaced by virtue of free-flowing memories of long ago pleasures and good times shared....I have vowed to be more aware of this down time between guests. I am listening to the melodic clicking sounds of two 'battery fed' clocks that hang on the walls surrounding me and wonder if any two clocks actually tick in unison with one another. Surprisingly, right as this thought enters my head, the mantle clock in my husband's office chimes the half-hour.

The early afternoon scheduled flights of various carriers, are dropping their landing gear just north of our home as their pilots prepare to guide them gently down onto the tarmac at Orlando International Airport. They continue to float above me in intervals of two to three minutes and I listen to the variances in their engine sounds and wonder how many different passengers in these particular planes have observed our rooftop before landing for business or pleasure on the ground.

My uncle Louie was a pilot in WWII and used to enjoy sitting out on our lanai listening for the planes to float by while petting our dog, Brûlée, as they snuggled together on a comfy lounge chair.  By the time he could see them, he had determined what make and size of engine each plane had just by being so attuned to the particular sounds made by each one. I miss this visual these past five years as I miss my uncle and his pleasant companionship.

Wednesday is yard day for us and I can feel the presence of the crew in our front yard before the edgers, mowers, and blowers even begin their gasoline infused parade up the driveway. Their rhythmic roars have drowned-out the fact that my dryer has stopped. I am too comfortable to get up right now! Besides, as I recall, I am still gently protesting throughout this fine day. 

Have I ever taken notice of the humanlike sounds coming from the French door refrigerator before? Its low rumble sounds like the 'hunger pangs' of people with a strong desire for food. And, tying the two together would make perfect sense when I stop to think about it. This reminds me that I should make a decision as to what to have for dinner later. Or, should I not care about dinner today of all days?

I am so bad-ass, aren't I?

Right as I am thinking about my 'Nasty Woman' behavior, a squad, herd, group, horde of squirrels charge across the roof like there is no tomorrow, their tiny rodent paws with their elongated nails scratching the shingles the entire width of the house as they charge their way to the outstretched limbs of the live oak tree in the back yard. I know that dinner for them tonight will be the sweet buds of young leaves waiting to make their debut into the unknown world. Many of them will become squirrel food tonight.

It's already five o'clock because the mechanical whirl of our garage door opening-up reaches my ears. How long have I been sitting here writing this afternoon? How long have I taken the time to just listen to the world around me? 

The husband enters the back door as the ping, ping, ping of the alarm system announces his presence before I can even see him walk into the kitchen. I will greet him now. He will ask me about my 'gentle protest' today because he is a gentle soul who has voluntarily become fined-tuned to women in general; me in particular. A huge smile spreads across my face.

Happiness has its own sounds, too. Spreading smiles sound so sweet in the dimming light of this familiar room. I know he will gladly help me make-up the guest bed tonight after I extract the sheets from the gaping mouth of the dryer. Tomorrow evening we will welcome our guests with open arms and a home cooked meal. And wine, plenty of good wine and cheers. 

I'm pleased to have aligned myself with every other woman in the world today. My 'gentle protest' will be felt in waves of camaraderie and solidarity with each one of them. Our strength in numbers and strong will is something to be reckoned with because the Power of Women is the new chapter being written, not with the idea of overpowering men in general, or the men in our own, personal lives.... Rather, by standing tall and strong right alongside of them in unity and equality.


Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved


Friday, March 3, 2017

DECONSTRUCT....



A series of essays.....





.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

DECONSTRUCT...

...and reinvent academic and administrative processes and business models. Not accepting 'business as usual.' Rather, creating a new framework for, in this case, the executive branch of government.

"Deconstruction of the Administrative State," the words of Steve Bannon, speaking in the capacity of 'senior counselor to the current president' at CPAC 2017, last week. The Conservative Political Action Conference is an annual political conference attended by conservative activists and elected officials from across the United States. CPAC is hosted by the American Conservative Union.

Hearing the above quote, especially offered by the self-proclaimed senior officer and advisor to this current president, a red flag of warning and alarm unfurled and became a flashing red beacon in the moonless night of my nightmares and stress.

The word itself, 'deconstruction,' implies irritation with the current system and demands for immediate action, consolidation, and the change of standard procedures whether the people of the nation desire these changes or not. For me, Bannon's words and plans are the equivalent of waving a proverbial red cape in front of a fuming bull! 

Initially, one must differentiate between the meaning of the words deconstruct and dismantle. To dismantle would mean to take apart or break up in a random fashion. Applying the curiosity of children, one considers the dismantling of a small radio or a favorite toy in order to understand all of its components. As adults, we might take it as far as wiping-out, obliterating, or completely eradicating the opposition, including his/her conflicting ideas.

The ominous sounding word 'deconstruction,' especially when applied in conjunction with 'of the Administrative State,' sent small shivers down my spine and irritated my perceived sensibilities when concerning our government and its responsibilities for the people we've come to appreciate while growing-up as a citizen of the United States of America.

What slippery slope was this former banker, filmmaker, and founding member of the board of Breitbart News, an online far-right news, opinion and commentary website which has pushed racist, sexist, xenophobic, and anti-Semitic material into the vein of those with far-right political ideologies....., cryptically leading us down?

The alt-right, or alternative right, according to Wikipedia, is a "loose group of people with far-right political ideals who reject mainstream conservatism in the United States." White supremacist, Richard Spencer, coined the term in 2010 to define a movement centered on white nationalism. He has been accused of doing so in order to 'whitewash' overt racism, white supremacism, and new-Nazism. Spencer has repeatedly quoted from Nazi propaganda and spoken critically of the Jewish people.

Alt-right beliefs have been described as white supremacist, nativism and Islamophobia, antifeminism and homophobia, white nationalism, right-wing populism, and the neoreactionary movement. The concept has further been associated with multiple groups from American nationalists, men's rights advocates, and the 2016 presidential campaign of Donald Trump.

Under the leadership of Steve Bannon, Breitbart News took a more alt-right and nationalistic approach toward its agenda. Bannon declared the website "the platform for the alt-right" in 2016. Wikipedia tells us that Bannon identifies his political beliefs as conservative. Speaking about his role at Breitbart, he said: "We think of ourselves as virulently anti-establishment, particularly 'anti-' the permanent political class."

Sinking deeper into this quagmire of anti-establishmentism, I insert this paragraph from my source that will lead me back to my original fears initiated by the self-proclaimed agenda of Steve Bannon , "Deconstruction of the Administrative State":
     "In 2007, Bannon wrote an eight page outline for a new documentary called 'Destroying the Great Satan: The Rise of Islamic Facism in America.' The treatment describes the Islamic Society of North America as "cultural jihadists." He wrote this outline himself and it labels the Washington Post, the New York Times, NPR, Universities and the Left, the American Jewish Community, the ACLU, the CIA, the FBI, the State Department, and the White House as 'enablers' of a covert mission to establish an Islamic Republic in the United States."

I suppose he has had the luxury of time and power to add the Los Angeles Times, Politico, CNN, and MSNBC to his list of the "Opposition Party", as well.

Taking in this valuable background information about Steve Bannon, we can now dial back to the statement he made last week at CPAC 2017 when asked to describe his current political agenda. Yes, his agenda and the very same one now being touted by the figurehead of the Republican Party elected (?) in November of 2016. 

The Deconstruction of the Administrative State is his way of dealing with what he believes to be the 'waste product' of government processes over the years. This expendable product being made up by the people of this country who believe in and honor the Constitution of the United States. It's made up of agencies controlled by laws and regulations that serve to protect citizens from loss of rights, sickness, hunger, and honors their freedom while projecting a brighter future for them and their families.

President Bannon proclaimed that to move forward with less red tape to deal with, this new administration's Cabinet appointees were hand-picked to deconstruct the longstanding and complicated operations of our democratic government and society. A society where all of the people have a say in what is being proposed as denoted by our laws and regulations. 

In other words, we will, as individuals and citizens, be allowed to slip through the cracks of our diminished Constitutional rights and protections and be forced to join the ranks of the few who now hang-on to every word that comes out of this administration's mouth.

We cannot and will not allow this 'deconstruction' of our sovereign rights as a democratic republic to be jeopardized in this way. If we do, we will sit back and let history repeat itself in the likes of Lenin, Stalin, Hitler, and Castro. We will become either a second world country under such guidance or a floundering third world country with no guidance or protection at all. 

In our naive days, sadly only around a year-and-a-half ago, we used to look at the many pawns of a possible Trump administration as a chess game being played by young children who seemed to be moving the pieces haphazardly around the board because they did not appear to know any of the rules. Now that these 'children' are in power, I don't believe that this concept has evolved in the least.

Quite often, the alarming consequences of 'evil doing' goes undocumented among the calculations of people who inject wisdom, acts of kindness, and love into their lives. Evil can sneak up on them, many times under the guise of helpfulness and understanding. If we are vulnerable and weak, we will succumb to evil while being made to feel it is our only salvation. 

If we are vulnerable yet strong enough to climb over the next hill that stands between us and freedom without listening to the lulling voices of our adversaries in their heightened attempts to convince us that our world is so horrific that only they can release us from the grip of despair....we can make it to the other side. And, we will stand proud and tall together united in the knowledge that our strength and belief in what is good for all of the people will get us through this political fiasco in Washington D.C. 

Steve Bannon, the once solitary, voiceless, physical entity who continues to pull the strings within the executive branch of the government, has instantly become vulnerable himself since he has volunteered his own voice to coincide with his mask of indifference. He cannot hide behind the veiled hood of the Grim Reaper any longer. Perhaps, your egotistical visit to CPAC 2017 will contribute to your eventual dismantlement with bits and pieces of your hate and corruption left in blackish piles on the polished marble floors of the White House.

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved