Palin is NOT a Diva!

I resent Palin being called a diva.

Okay, I have tried to keep my political views out of this blog if only to give a respite, but the line was crossed today when some unnamed informant from the McCain/Palin camp called Sarah Palin a diva. http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/25/palin.tension/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

Palin is not a diva! And how unfair is to all true divas to refer to her as one?

Then the sorry mortal crossed another line when he or she said, “Divas trust only unto themselves, as they see themselves as the beginning and end of all wisdom”.

While that may be true of Sarah Palin, divas have no such belief.

Let’s focus. What exactly is a diva?

Diva is Latin, meaning, “goddess” or “divine one” and was used by the Italians to describe mortal opera singers of supreme talent in the late 1800’s. Since then it has been used to describe other talented women in music and beyond.

Okay, the term “diva” has been used to describe a “difficult women” or women who have a higher opinion of themselves than is shared by others. Additionally, “diva” is considered synonymous with “prima donna” by Marrium Webster which is defined as, “a vain or undisciplined person who finds it difficult to work under direction or as part of a team”.

Ummm.

There are, however, many other terms that are better suited to describe a challenging woman with an inflated ego that do not demean divas everywhere.

“Diva” is now used in current culture to describe women (and men!) young and mature, who celebrate their inner goddess (or if preferred, divus is the masculine form and can be used by those who choose to celebrate their inner god) and the diva (or divus) in others.

Diva is an attitude.

The term “diva” focuses on the positive aspects of goddess not on shallow or distinctly human pettiness or "put downs". In other words, “diva” is an attitude of aspiring to goddess type qualities.

Divas claim and use their natural talents.

Divas respect, trust, and believe in themselves and in the greatness of all. They take care of themselves and celebrate their femininity and their unique gifts, typically using their talents for the greater good.

Divas, are gracious, generous, go-get-‘er-done types capable of being more than the average mortal - because they know in their heart and soul they can.

Divas are inspirational!

Think of the qualities that are considered divine.

A diva exemplifies these in attitude, ambition and actions.

If not altogether capable of always sustaining such goddess abilities in actuality (just yet), a diva practices and aspires to divine greatness in everything she does.

Palin, most certainly is not a modern day diva. As described by her own people, she represents the antiquated definition of diva, the negative definition that society once used to prescribe roles that limited ambitious women and the female divine.

Sarah Palin is an anti-diva disguised in a skirt.

Resisting Reluctance

Resisting and Reluctance to write can be a huge problem.

But it doesn't have to be.

I sometimes find myself really wanting to write and simultaneously avoiding it. Know what I mean?

It’s not even like I’m telling myself, “I should”, nor is it that life throws in some obstacles that keep me from writing. Sure that happens but its not what my recent bout of inactivity is.

No, occasionally, for any number of reasons, I flat out really want to write but also really don’t want to. It’s a confusing place to be. And it's where I am right now.

Usually I’m not exactly sure why I’m even in such a quandary when I’m in the thick of it and I don’t even believe that there is a consistent reason. I think the reasons for the dilemma change and that these are usually easier to understand in retrospect.

Sometimes the reason is my ideas are still percolating internally. Driving, gardening, or beach bumming tends to help the perc along.

Other times, my brain is truly scattered with static. Perhaps the clutter has swamped me or perhaps other stressors nag at me stealing the writing away.

And perhaps, like others, I have a fear of success mixed with an equal dose of fear of failure.

And yes, there are those times when the problems are not that deep at all. I’m just busy spending my energies doing those millions of things that a mom has to do.

So in retrospect (having taken some action, I can say retrospect), I believe my recent lack of activity is all of the above. And although my lack of activity clearly demonstrates a problem, I’m no closer to locating the source, I am closer to a solution.

As things often do not happen in isolation, I’ve had a lot of things chipping away at me and I flat out haven’t written.

But this doesn’t have to be a problem. In fact it isn't a problem now.

What I have on my side is a history of writing. I know I can recreate the writing habit. And the habit of writing will put me back on course. Sure, I’m likely to have some off days, but the habit will carry me through. I tend to write virtually every morning – except on occasions when I’m in a writing quandary like this, and even then, I write – even if its just to forward email.

Grant, I may not publish every little thing I write, I will have more to choose from.

Just writing these exploratory passages, I think I now know where the source of my quandary is – and it’s not an unusual one at all for writers. I’ve a story I want to tell, but I’m unsure about committing it to a public forum such as this.

I may have to get it down in a private way, allow it to stew for a while, simmer a bit longer and rewrite it a few times before I release it, but she’s there, ready to break free.

And my problem is solved - by activity! In this case, writing, which once again proves that the cure for inactivity is activity. Just do it already!

Bad Girl Band Backers

I Become a Bad Girl Band Backer

Saturday was very busy. We usually limit ourselves to just one activity a day but sometimes activities just happen.

I tried my best to be excused from the band trip to a competition a few hours from us but Red wanted me there to “show my support”. But come on. 5 hours each way for less than 13 minutes on the field?

It seemed like a lot to ask but no way could I wriggle out of being anything less than a total Band Backer.

Which is how I found myself in the back of a brand new Tahoe with leather seats cruising the highways with 4 other ladies having an absolute blast! The driver couldn't “caravan” with the buses because, as she said, “I can’t drive that slow!”. Darn!

We were getting to know one another while we sang off key to the music we’d grown up with.

We laughed so hard we had to make extra pit stops. One lady even had to use her inhaler – more than once!

I’m really thankful that Red insisted I go. Not only did I meet some new friends, laughed until I had to pee and munch out on typically forbidden foods, I got to see what the big deal is about marching band competitions.

I had no idea! There is a lot of effort and thought put into these things. Our band has really improved since I last saw them, placing 2nd in their division. Impressive actually.

We watched some of the other bands perform. Those in the upper divisions – wow! I wish I could give details that explained the thrill of all of those instruments, the drill team twirling flags and the use of lighting, costumes and theatrics to put on their presentation.

After the award ceremony we saw our kids head to the busses while we climbed back into the Tahoe and went in search of Starbucks sustenance for the return trip.

More singing, laughter and giggles ensued to keep the driver awake. Once we returned to town we went to Denny’s to hang out until the buses returned. I’d forgotten what the 2AM crowd at Denny’s consisted of.

Good-grief. If I have to wear something like that to date I’m just staying out of the pool.

Right after the waitress left with our drink order a group of bikers around our age came in. The largest guy of the bunch reminded me of the Leroy Brown from the song by Jim Croce we’d recently sung.

Maybe I was staring as I thought about Leroy Brown. He was huge. And he was right next to me. We couldn’t be sitting much closer if I’d been at his table.

As he sat down he said to us, "don't look at my a_ _".

I’m proud of myself.

I refrained from making a comment - but then I noticed what was in my hands.

Of their own will, they were twisting the end of the straw wrapper.

I watched as it came up to my lips and my head turned and took aim.

As the wrapper arced toward the target I knew it was going to connect. How could it not hit such a fathead in such close proximity?

My 2nd to last thought just before it hit was, “S _ _ t! What have I done? The guy’s a giant biker dude”.

My last thought as it connected was, “oh well, this is going to be a great story”!

The wrapper bounced off, rolled down his back, which by the way, had considerably more hair than his head.

I sat stunned by my behavior and looked around at the other ladies.

My new friend next to me was laughing so I joined in. The ladies across from me were laughing but not sure why. I couldn’t quit laughing. I was in hysterics. I hid my face in my hands, giggling afraid to look at the table next to me. No one could say why we were laughing.

Now there are some real horror stories about biker dudes, giant and otherwise and then there are those crazy romances that began with just such absurdity.

He just wasn’t that imaginative.

Giant Biker Dude made a lewd comment about blowing something else, followed with how I should be grateful he doesn’t hit women. Like any of the other biker guys would have let him? He made a few more lewd comments while he inhaled his platter and then he went outside to smoke his cigarettes.

Apparently it was good for him.

The last guy to leave their table leaned down and said to just me, “Now that’s going to be a hell of a story”.

Someday, I’d like to hear his version.

Zen, Muse and the Art of Honda Transmissions

Honda's are the Diva’s of the mom vehicle world.

In particular they are very sensitive to the type of transmission fluid they are given.

Recently Gwen, my Honda Odyssey was given a sip of generic transmission fluid from a caring individual at one of those retail change-the-oil locations (who will remain anonymous for now). I was informed about the added fluid after the fact but didn’t think much about it.

A short time later Gwen began showing signs of distress, bucking at intersections, revving RPM (also known as transmission flaring) and not accelerating properly.

She’s not exactly young and she has seen over 180,000 miles of travel and local destinations but she’s family. She’s our transportation and travel companion. We’ve shared a lot of good memories.

The treatment for the toxic sip of generic transmission fluid is a drain of the fluid and a refill of the 3 quarts with authentic certified Honda transmission fluid, which we did.

Less than a month later on our trip to Monterey for the weekend, Gwen had a relapse and then seemed to be doing better while in Monterey. Then this morning while I was attempting to drive Red and Mick to school she seemed to be ready to give up the fight entirely.

Bucking and not accelerating the whole way to school, Gwen chugged through intersections I was sure we’d be stranded in. During the morning break, I took her to a nearby mechanic. Go figure, she drove just fine.

The mechanic wanted to charge me $225 just to put her on the diagnosis computer.

Give me a break!

I’m lucky enough to have a Honda certified mechanic in the family so I sat in their parking lot near tears and called him up.

He was aghast at the high fee for basically using a hand held device one can buy from Snap-On Tools for $75! He suggested I bring Gwen to him, which I did. So for the price of a tank of gas (pricey but less than $225!) to get there and back and $30 for 6 quarts of Honda certified transmission fluid (3 for today and 3 for reserve), a couple bucks for a slice of pizza, Gwen is running happy again.

The 3 extra quarts are to use next time Gwen needs them. She may need another transfusion because only half of the fluid gets changed at a time as half remains in the transmission somewhere while half is available to drain.

My family Honda Mechanic also states that transmission fluid in Honda’s should be changed about every 3rd oil change, automatic transmissions being the “weak link” in Honda’s. A dealer mechanic wont verify this, but after close to 30 years of servicing almost exclusively Honda’s, my mechanic knows them well.

And I sure as heck will take his word for it over the guy charging $225 just to look.

Oh, the relation to writing or Muse? Travel time baby! Long car rides are Zen for writers and I got 5 hour's worth today.