Whitney, You Almost had it All

Whitney. 

You know her by one name.  You know the diva.  You know the VOICE.

And, we all know she could bring down the house.

Whitney Houston was my all time favorite.  I can still remember the first time I heard “You give good love” on the radio.

I can tell you that I was in my mother’s light blue Chevrolet sitting in the car waiting for her to come out of a convenient store near my Aunt Rose’s house when I first heard the famous “Greatest Love of All.” 

That song shot her straight to the moon.  But, along the way it brought spirit and emotion to all that listened to the loving words.  No advice is greater; learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.

Yes, it is.  Undoubtedly.

I can see Whitney’s face when she graced my television screen in her MTV videos.  That white sequin dress she wore on stage for the "Greatest Love of All" video still could not outshine that larger than life voice.

I remember when I got her first album on cassette at KMART.  Yes, not a CD, a little ole cassette tape.  She was so beautiful wearing her light peach colored dress, hair tightly pulled back, model features, looking like an African princess.  I rewound that tape over and over again.  I wore it out.  I was saving all of my love for Whitney.

She was my first concert. 

I had so many concerts in my bedroom in honor of Whitney.  I wanted to sing just like her, and live the dream.

My friends, Amy and Shannon, had to endure endless hours of Whitney songs sung by me…until of course it was their turns.

It never got old to me.  But, quite possibly my neighbors were annoyed as I belted it out with my bedroom windows wide open.  One day, I got a standing ovation.  I looked out the window, embarrassed, and stared across our suburban street watching my dear life long neighbors clapping for little ole me.  Ah...memories.

I sounded OK, but they stroked my fragile, young ego, with pleasure.

But, one of my biggest and fondest Whitney moments came when I didn’t even know I had an audience.  It was a very intimate moment for me.  I was in my bedroom, yes, again, singing “Greatest Love of all”…I was really letting go…driving it home…when what to my wondering eyes should appear through the crack of my bedroom door…my mother, father, and older brother. 

I jumped ten feet in the air, fell onto my bed, and threw that hairbrush microphone onto the floor!  I was startled to say the least.  In that moment my stage fright was born.  I cared what they thought.  I cared what people thought too much.  They loved it, but it didn’t matter to me because I was afraid.

Whitney’s love songs pulled on my heartstrings.  My first high school love had to love Whitney too.  He heard “I Will Always Love You” everyday, ten times a day.  Her music has gotten me through the loves, losses, and the lessons of life.

When The Body Guard came out, I was the first one in line sitting right in the middle of the theatre with my girlfriends.  When her character’s name, Rachel, came on screen blazing with lights, my friend, Margie said in my ear, “That’s gonna be you one day.”  She even wrote it on the back of her tenth grade class picture for me so I could remember to go for it.  

My name is not in lights, as you and I both know.  But, Whitney’s music coupled with adolescence, allows us ALL to dream big.

My favorite, and quite possibly, most of America’s favorite moment was when Whitney sang The Star Spangled Banner for Super bowl twenty-five in 1991.  It was the start of the Gulf War and her powerful rendition brought us all together in that patriotic moment in time.  Nobody has come close to this day.

And, in 2009 when I watched her on Oprah I confess that I was her biggest fan hoping she would find the light to light her way out of the dark.  As I sat watching I kept thinking this is her comeback, her one moment in time.

But, we now know her tragic ending.  Her voice is a force of nature that will live on forever in history.  Her music has been sewn into the fabric of my life.  I am one of her biggest, strongest, fans.  I know that she was self-destructive, battled drug abuse, and let a lot of fans down, but she let herself and her daughter down the most. 

Self destruction killed a bright star.  I didn’t know her personally so I will never pretend to know her real story.  I do know one thing; her music has been a large part of my personal life.

Whitney started in the church choir and hopefully her strong religious roots take her to a better place, where her broken heart goes, only God knows.  But, I hope she finds peace and ends up somewhere that she can finally believe the lyrics to her own spiritual song “Jesus Loves Me.”

My only wish for this woman that has become a legend would be that she could have loved herself.  It’s my wish for all of us.  Truly.

Whitney Houston, I will always love you for your magical voice and helping a little girl (me) dream real big. 

 1963-2012

Thanks for sharing your God given talent with the world.

"F" Bombs Kill Your Appetite

Last night I was out to dinner.  It wasn’t a fancy place, but certainly, not a dump.  The Olive Garden, where everyone’s family (or something like that.)  

As soon as we sat down to eat dinner I noticed a table of gentlemen all in their early forties sitting together.  I knew right away that they were visiting from out of town for work.  As I eavesdropped I heard them talking about their jobs- sales.  I knew I was in the presence of salesman.  Certainly nothing wrong with their profession, believe me, but their behavior was grotesque.

Every other bite of food I took was shoved down my throat with some expletive I really didn’t care to hear.  And, certainly the three year old at the nearby table didn’t either. 

I’m not a saint, nor a prude, but I found it repulsive.  Just ugly.

And, here’s the hypocrisy, I’m the biggest culprit sometimes.  I drop ugly word bombs when I’m having a bad day.  Heck (not hell), I curse when I am telling a story, when I’m excited, and even when I’m sad.  A lot of people do.  Maybe I’ve been conditioned this way over time.  And, even though my mother yells at me, it often goes in one and out the other.

But, last night I realized after the fortieth “F BOMB” that came flying out of “Mr. 3^rd in the Nation”, (yup overheard the ego maniac bragging to his counterparts) it just became vulgar and super unattractive, especially in a public place. 

To top off all the potty talk, one man decided to hand the waiter his arse (not a typo) because he forgot his salad.  Yeah, he mentioned that after he already finished his main course.  “Make sure you take that salad off the bill that I never received.” 

Um, do you just want to look like you matter in front of your nervous high school server?

Or, did you just want to berate him in front of your wanna-be- superhuman-friends?

And, can you say cheap?  You know that dinner was being expensed.  And, I would think if you’re third in the nation for your sales performance, a salad isn’t going to strap you financially.

For God’s sake I BLEEPING hope not.

Now, back to the point…

Last night I realized how ugly cursing can be.  I’ve always known it’s not ladylike, but it’s not gentlemanly either.  Same rules apply for boys and girls and grown ups.

I’d like to think I’m not loud and obnoxious when I choose to use filthy words.  I also don’t make a practice of it in public places.  After last night, I’m swearing off some not so pretty nouns and verbs.  I promise to do my best because if I sound half as trashy as the men in white suits I’m highly sickened with myself.  I will be more than happy to put soap in my own mouth.

You get passes here and there.  Everyone knows a funny joke needs a good curse time to time, with emphasis on the curse!  But, when we are cursing loudly at The Olive Garden and have no regard for other’s preference, or tolerance…that’s just rock bottom behavior.

If you’re going to use foul language, at least use it like most people…VERY, VERY QUIETLY, OR STICK A BREAD STICK IN YOUR MOUTH SO I DON’T HAVE 

TO!

Note to reader: No breadsticks were harmed or wasted last night on the sales team from Alabama. 

American Waste

A week before Christmas I was shopping in a very popular chain store and as I was standing in line waiting for another woman to make her return I heard an employee tell her co-worker, “Put those in the trash bin, I think she wore them.”


She was talking about the woman ahead of me and her returned pair of rain boots. Yup, boots. We can go to the bowling alley and wear shoes that have been on a thousand pairs of feet. It’s become trendy to shop for vintage clothing in thrift stores, and after having my first yard sale this fall I noticed it’s quite popular for many to buy old tattered clothes from complete strangers. So, why are department stores and big name chains throwing out goods that get returned instead of donating them to charities?

And, it’s not just material things.

FOOD!

You’ve seen the ads on TV- 1 in every 8 Americans are starving.

Grocery stores and restaurants throw away so much food at the end of the night instead of donating to food banks. Dumpster diving is a hot new American trend and the people doing it have even named themselves “Freegans.” They’re not all poor or homeless. Some people just can’t stand to see good food go to waste.

I’m not suggesting you need to run out and join the groups that are diving into big metal boxes in alley ways. But, something should be done to end hunger in a country with a great amount of surplus.

Businesses, big and small have no liability, which means no excuses. All thanks to the Good Samaritan Act.

Are we heartless and self absorbed? No, maybe just too lazy to do the right thing.

Charities like Purple Heart pick up donations at your door. It doesn’t get any easier than that.

When people are hungry they aren’t going to be choosey and when they need clothes on their backs, irregular garments with one sleeve slightly longer than the other will not matter. Fashion sense is replaced with common sense on a needy person’s list of priorities.

I’m not a bit needy, and I would have taken the boots that got thrown away in front of me in the popular store that I shop at frequently.

I pray that we always have food to fuel our bodies and clothing to keep us covered.

“Slightly used” appears new to someone doing without. And, “Slightly Outdated” tastes delicious when you’re starving.

Waste is a terrible thing to do. It’s also a terrible insult to the world around us.

January Baby

I was born on January 12th. It was a cold winter Wednesday sometime after 3PM. I love winter. Something about the cold weather makes me feel alive.


The air is crisp and clean and I can breathe! The sudden onset of extreme allergies that hit me in my very early thirties makes for an extremely miserable me. Therefore, frost is my new best friend.

It’s been really cold here in the Philadelphia suburbs the past two days. Most people are counting down till spring already. It’s January 4th. You do know in this lovely area we get four seasons. It’s not just the name of a fancy hotel…its reality. Lately, one could argue we only get two- winter and summer. But, either way we have changes in the seasons and in our moods.

I am a January baby! I’ve thought about this quite a bit. I was brought into this world and if that were not shocking enough for my mother and my newborn self- it was freezing out when we left the hospital for home.

This explains my love for the season so many dread. I love winter clothes. Coats and boots are my best friends and my favorite fashion statements. I love sitting by the fire and falling asleep with the warmth on my face. I love soft blankets tickling my nose. I love indulging in fattening food (we all know you need that to stay warm). I love to wake up cold and put on my fuzzy worn out robe. I love to snuggle. I love the entire season for too many reasons to name!

The power of winter amazes me. She gets things started, shakes it up a bit, and her mood swings are fierce yet you admire her fury.

You feel hopeful in winter. It’s the start of something new. Out with the old and maybe this time you’ll keep that promise to yourself.

We celebrate the birth of Christ, our Happy New Year, and the official day for lovers too! My favorite holidays belong to winter.

I love how the world slows down when it snows. We get the chance to sit in and do NOTHING. It’s nature’s way of forcing us to take it easy and give the dreaded rat race a break.

The only winter blues I ever feel are those annoying reminders on my calendar marking the beginning of spring. Let the sneezing, itchy eyes, and migraines begin!

Spring used to put a hop in my step but now it just puts pressure in my head. All of the new blooms are beautiful but with beauty comes pain. Ain’t that the truth?

Then summer rolls around with her sultry, hot attitude. She makes my life hell…my temperature and my mood. I hate the extreme heat pounding off my face and the blinding rays of the sun. Yeah, that’s real good for you. I for one can never beat the summer heat. I’m just not into the lazy energy draining dog days of summer.

And, God forbid we get an Indian summer! I used to love fall but now it doubles as spring. I wish it would get its own identity back and stick with it. Pumpkin patches, apple picking, and football need not be nagged by Ragweed, pollen, and mold! Get with the program Mama Nature!

While the rest of you complain it’s too cold, this January Baby will be making the most of her beloved allergy free, energy igniting, and fresh start season.

The more you wish away the weather, the more you wish away precious time. There’s no need to rush because we all know too well that January through December pass by in a blink with red itchy eyes, and a sneezing good time!

"LET GO"

There’s something so hard about letting go of people, places, and things. But, even harder is holding on to things that you need to dispose of before they contaminate your mind, body, and soul even further.

I’m guilty of holding onto to the past a lot. One would say I am “Sentimental” and that “One” would be me. Indeed I am! But, sentimental and obsessive thinking are two different creatures for sure. I’m learning the difference. FINALLY.

It’s a great feeling to kick bad habits to the curb and an even greater feeling knowing that you aren’t being self-destructive anymore too. Here are some emotional habits that can hold you back in life and personally keep you locked up from yourself if you let them.


Socializing with poisonous friends

Holding on to past love

Thinking about yesterday while losing sight of tomorrow

Holding onto grudges

Refusing to see the error of your ways

Being negative

Not chasing your dreams

Procrastination

Listening to others mindless opinions

Not following your own heart

And, most importantly, not being YOU.

If any of this pertains to you…UNLOAD IT! Now is the time! Don’t waste one more minute worrying what people say or think about you. Don’t live in the past it’s gone for a reason. Forge ahead.

If something is bringing you down and making you feel like you are heavy and miserable…let go.

Once you do, you truly find an inner peace that only you can provide yourself.


As, a very good friend of mine constantly reminds me (because I’ve needed it) “What others do to you has very little to do with you, it’s all about the way they feel about themselves.”

Believe it.


So, let go. You won’t fall. You’ll rise to the potential you were born with.


Let go…and you will begin to live.

LOSERS NEVER WIN, NOT EVEN IN HAPPY VALLEY

WE ARE…PENN STATE. OK, ya, ya, ya. I went there and I get the camaraderie. No, not the main campus, but a branch campus that still had that Nittany Lion pride strong and wide. And, of course when all of my friends went onto Happy Valley and I transferred to Temple, I still made trips to see them at PSU. I will never forget my first football game there. It was exciting, overwhelming, and pure fun. Joe Paterno was the king of the hill and treated like a GOD. The crowd was doing the wave and chanting that famous chant, WE…ARE…in a sea of blue and white. These are college memories you never forget.

But, since all of sexual abuse scandal has rocked this state, country, and students at this college, I can’t help but think this is just another act of big business not having morals. Yes, I’m referring to college as big business because that’s exactly what it is. Money first, football second, and education last. Not for everyone, but for the school’s agenda it’s all about the dollar bills.

What I can’t understand is why nobody went to the police. Oh, wait a minute, yes I can. They didn’t go because God forbid they shame the name of PENN STATE. Forget about the lives of the victims, why would they want to lose money for a small percentage of the wounded? Mothers and fathers surely wouldn’t send their children to a university with a tarnished reputation, and one of sexual abuse by mentors, nonetheless. Spare a few so the millions and millions of dollars keep coming.

Pure losers. Life is not a game. It’s for real.

I can just imagine the scene of stuffed shirts in an office talking about Sandusky’s unthinkable acts of sexual abuse.

“If this gets out we are all fired!”

“Our school will fold.”

“We will have no football team and no leverage to bring students here to study.”

“God, I hope they don’t find out that I’m guilty too.”

I’m not poking fun at the severity of this horrible situation. Let me make that MORE THAN CLEAR. I’m writing what I think is truth. I’m sure that someone on the board of trustees had to know about this. One lie covers another and so forth and so on. They are far from innocent as they sit on their mighty throwns.

It’s beyond my comprehension why nobody went to the police with this life altering information. You mean to tell me, that not one person’s morals kicked in and pressured them to report it and follow up on it even further? It sickens my soul.

You can bet if it were Spanier’s, Paterno’s, McQueary’s, or any one of the trustee’s children, something would have been done to stop this monster like behavior. Nobody would be worried about the outcome or their reputations. And, Jerry would have gone straight to jail not just have his key privilege to the locker room revoked.

The thing that gets me about McQueary is that he was such a wimp. He had to call his daddy first? Are you kidding me? He should have beat the “you know what” out of Sandusky. At the very least call 911.

Our country has been making idols of athletes and sports figures for far too long. They make more money than they will ever spend while lots of Americans are struggling to put food on the table and clothes on their backs. They act out like a spoiled child when their new contracts don’t have enough zero’s attached. We give them too much power. It’s pathetic. Real heroes and mentors are taken for granted everyday. They serve their countries, families, schools, and communities without thinking twice or expecting undying admiration from anyone.

JoePa is not a GOD, even though he was treated that way for running a football team forever. I’m not sure why McQueary hasn’t been fired yet, but he’s the eyewitness that did nothing. We could do the blame game all day long, but the biggest issue is that it’s too damn late for the victims. The damage is done and they are forever mentally harmed by people they thought they could trust. People they should have been able to trust.

Happy Valley is not so happy right now. The men in charge have brought shame upon the campus and the country all in the name of money.

Haven’t they ever heard that “It all comes out in the wash?” Children don’t stay little for long.

This entire scandal comes down to the almighty dollar…if you are Penn State, make that millions and millions of dollars.

The King of the Hill has fallen, but he’s not the only one who should take the hit. Every person that sat in that white collar stuffed room and chose to do nothing should get a little Sandusky friendly treatment. An eye for an eye, boys!

Mr. Sandusky will surely have his time to feel the love he has so desperately and apparently been missing.

Sometimes you get exactly what you give. Be careful Jerry, friends are waiting for you, not at Penn State, at the State Penn.

Good luck, when prison guards don’t come to your rescue and mum is the word.

Nick’s Garden of Love

On a recent day trip antiquing in Adamstown, Pennsylvania, I found myself desperate to find my grandparents old home in nearby Elverson. It’s right outside of Reading and for those of you that don’t know, it’s a slower life there in farm country.

I was racking my brain to think of my grandparent’s old address, but it’s been twenty-two years since I have walked on the land and slept in the house. Too many years have gone by.

They had a rancher and lots of land to play. Not to mention a huge lake behind their home to swim, fish, and ice skate on. They had fields of green and corn rows popping up all around them.

My brother and I thought it was pure heaven visiting “The House.” We loved life on those lazy summer days. We stayed for weeks at a time. When day turned to dusk we would run across the busy road they lived on to the tennis courts. They were situated right next to a church…the only two things for miles. I tried to play while my brother tormented the hell out of me. But, it was still fun and most importantly, it was our time together to be young.

One of my favorite things to do while visiting was tending the garden with my grandfather. I can see him now with his overalls on, work boots, a white t-shirt, and cigar hanging out of his mouth. He was probably just chewing on it and singing some random song.

He was a burly, strong man but when he was in his garden he was different. He was proud of this overgrown huge grapefruits, tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchini’s. He would sit at the dinner table at night and make you try whatever he picked that day.

Sometimes we would fight him, and other times we just tried it to make him happy. Either way he had a smile on his face that beamed from ear to ear.




I called my father and asked him where in the world the house was. All he remembered was that it was on Route 82. I just followed along with the GPS and before long I found it. I immediately recognized the church and the tennis courts.

So, my boyfriend and I pulled over into the church lot and I waved down a man on a tractor cutting the grass. I ran across that busy road like I was ten again. I told him that I was the granddaughter of the people who lived here twenty-two years ago. He was kind and generous to let me reminisce for a while. I asked if a man named Bob still lived next door and he said, “Yes, he’s one house down.” To that I replied, “Then this is not my grandparent’s old house.” We all laughed for a minute and then walked a few feet over to the right house.

I would have never recognized it. Huge Spruce trees lined the front of the home along with all kinds of other greenery. The house was a different color and the garage was bigger. It shocked me. Wow, time changes everything I thought to myself.

I mentioned to this lovely neighbor that they had a red deck and he was delighted to let me know it was still standing.

I slowly walked down the side of this stranger’s lawn that once felt the running, dancing, and skipping soles of my shoes. It looked like a jungle out there but I saw the weathered red deck peeking through the bushes.

I felt overwhelmed. Then, I saw the garden that I loved so much. That big garden that took up the back of the property right before the lake. It was still there! He kept it after all these years. Huge sunflowers were towering above the other crops and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

But, some things were different. The township filled in the shallow end of the lake and grew crops everywhere. You couldn’t see the lake from the backyard anymore. Corn fields replaced memories, and life was different here in Elverson.

More people have moved into the area and the stillness isn’t so still.
As I walked back up the backyard I found a beautiful feather. I crept down to get it and I looked up to say, “Thanks, Poppop.” I just knew in that moment we were both there like old times.

Time changes everything and we lose the ones we love. I guess nothing stays the same.

I was comforted knowing that the church, the tennis courts, and the house were still there for me to come back to from time to time.

But, I was deeply touched and consoled that this stranger who occupies the walls of the home I once loved so much, has kept my poppop’s garden growing. He changed so much about the house but he left that rectangular shaped veggie and fruit plot there to pass time and people.

Ahh, If only who knew how happy he made someone’s grand-daughter twenty –two years later.

Poppop would be proud, I know I was.

The new owner could have filled it in with dirt and grown grass, but instead he spread some more seeds and helped the garden of love continue to grow.

I got into the car and realized that you never can say goodbye to yesterday and why would you if it the past was so good?

One man that I loved so much left his mark in his garden and in our hearts, and a man that I didn’t even know kept the pride and hard work going.

If that’s not part of the circle of life, then I don’t know what is.