Happy TGIF Friday

I love Fridays, and actually, get to experience one

again. It seems likes years. Understand and you'll 

see .... I've been working shift work for the first time 

in my life, going on two years.



Count me as one who works any 7 day of the week,

any morning, afternoon or evening or combination of

them all.  



There is nothing more wholesome and 

rewarding as Friday. A tradition we start in our

teens, and moving into our daring years, into our

children's lives and then all back again. 


Most important, in all of those memories are the 

friends we hold dear. Yes, I mean you. 

One who thinks to reach out every single day.





Perhaps for some that is the only brightness for their

day. You bring that to people, the world, and so

much more. I don't have to name names, for you

know who you are.

xoxo Jeannette

I wrote that last night. Rarely would I think this

reminiscing should appear on the more serious veneer

of optioneerJM. 


It does tend to fall into our twenties. Not important,

the early or late years. Your career starts to take off

somehow. You spin around, just to see everyone IS

looking at you.


You are a model citizen, responsible adult with some

post-secondary education that no matter how thick is

a foundation you can pull forward in those wondering

times. Was it work ethic, looks, personality, educa-

tion or street smarts? That won many others over and

where you were allowed to spread your wings.


Nowadays, to get a foot in the door, you have to have

heeps of experience, or make degrees and diplomas

walk out of the door. How lucky I am and even at the

time I still did. How did magical things happen to

this average ole kid.


Wait a minute. You were an average old kid? Like

does that mean when you were a kid you seemed

older, or as you got older you got hipper?


I mean average. Really? Does that mean academics?

Should you be reminded how in grade school, your

meanest toughtest teacher on record, yet you don't

even remember his name. The one who pushed you

above so many in leaps and bounds. So that the next

year, away you sat with three other boys, working on

a higher math book, not even the next, one designed

for those who may benefit. Guess that ain't ole

average.


I got on a tangent as I often do. Forcing my attention

back to the matter at hand.



The 1980s were fab-tas-tic-u-lust. Opps, was that an

accident or on purpose? I'd hazard a guess that what

makes a writer creative is the disguise he or she wears

creating characters that they could dream up while

never would dare, do or try what their characters

could.


Some call the 60s just outtasight. But wasn't it the

70s that gave us our might? Skipping along with our

brothers or sis humming or tap tap tapping like a

drum, to the music that made those a decade ahead,

who believed that peace, science and academics were

what all matters in stead.


I was born in the shadows of that rebirth, long before

greed, politics, money because the currency of luck.

After all, our immediate forefathers, young enough

and wise enough we considered as brothers.


Then what happened? We huddled behind our desks,

cozied up on our couch, watching wholesome TV

shows like Mr. Ed the horse, or the Mr. Ed before

Sullevan.

We were too young to understand all the fuss over
four young arrived on a bus, or was that an airplane?

Don't laugh too hard but when we graduated from 
High School, it was all about Disco, lights and all that
fuzz.  Agreeably, we were mostly ignorant about beer or getting a buzz.

That wasn't our scene.  Do you wanna know what was?  Going to school, then getting all gussied up like those 50s gals, except with very high heels and more conservative skirts than the 60s, yet not abandoned like the 70s.

We were a generation when it was about life
being about the basics:  having a family, going to Midnight Mass at Christmas, with newcomers at
the table because it was unthinkable, when it was not at all that new and while still authentic, for anyone 
from the neighbourhood, school or work be left alone
on the Holidays.  Funny, some folks went to church, 
more often than not, it was never a conversation at the
dinner table was a religion as a topic sought.

Yes, the 80s were rad.  You can't disagree when all
the Millinnials embrace the decade.  It was a time life
was pretty basic with much less controversies, scandals, violence in our sphere.  We pushed on and
went to school year after year.

We weren't in the years when what our peers did or thought, was more important than our home, our families, parents, siblings and such.

Now there was drugs, alcohol and permiscuaty in
back alleys not permiated by media, television, radio,
newspapers and magazines.  In fact, that is when I
read and read.  Nothing felt better or safer in bed, with a book.  Being called to set the table, dinner was
ready, would nearly break the captured imagination
just put down.  Then we skooted outside so the adults
could breathe, instead of the chatter and noise four kids bring, when turning on the TV was the very last
thing.

Whoop whoop to the 80s.  Think about it, that was
when the computer and music playing instruments 
were being revolutionized.  Ignorant were we that
it would only be a phase.

The emergence of drugs and crime started to hold us spellbound.  Theatrics and lies joined them as the norm in the 90s.

Then we hit a new century.  Brought on alongside sheer panic that we were doomed when the clock was to pass midnight 23:59 1999 to 24:00 2000.  Makes
you think, maybe we were really that lucky.

We were into our 30s by then.  Usually happily married or two times past.  Consumed with a passion
never before known:  the power of money is what did
bloom.

Whoever said "money can't buy you love" as a quote turned into a famous tune?  Wasn't really far off when
you consider how fast hatred, jealousy, terrorism, violence grew pedals and bloomed.

Our own children now in their twenties as we near closer to 2020s.  Mixed with fear, and far less optimism than we were allowed.  Where diseases as bola, violence created by religion was long before born.  

Yet they are the children of the 80s youngsters born of the 60s, wherein lies as when the basics were born.  Long before a child could ride a bike alone, and still make it home.   Long before millions became billions
..... in debt.  Where politicians, not parents or teachers, became scorned.

We were brought up in a world where politics were
faded in the background, until a corrupt President was
scorned.  Scandals were drugs, pre-marital sex was 
very private, and violence against women, even less
children was known.

The faint dew drops of that optimism allows many to soar and others to bloom.  Behind them strong parents, with morals as the main foundation was
formed.

When searching for royalty free images to enhance this Blog, I thought it ironic that The Times cover would symbolize the new century.  When the horror in Paris would mark this year approaching its end: 2015 my friend.  

Bowing my head over these keys, gives me pause as our refrugees arrive in Canada today with the belief that ours is a much safer world, with opportunity, humanity and peace.  Let us remember that "our" means our world, our harmony, our hope, our peace is not your, mine, me, or I.  It takes a lot of people to keep us from harm.

Vincent Van Gogh "Sunny Meadow"

Can we get back to the basics?  Only personally and privately we may reflect.  To help others, the poor, the fearful, to never neglect.  We have the power to make it safer again.

Sunny camomile meadow - Margaret Raven Art Gallery