This Above All...

If you studied Hamlet in high school (or wherever) you can finish the quote: "to thine own self be true."

Sounds like great advice, doesn't it? What is ironic, however, is that the character who speaks these lines is Polonius, who is--to put it rather bluntly--a big windbag. He is constantly interfering with affairs that he should leave alone.

So, how does this connect to the writing challenge of the week--what advice would I give my younger self? Well, I suppose just this: advice is not always helpful.

As I get older, I find myself doing the reminiscing bit. You know, going over events from the past, wondering what would have happened had I...fill in the blank with a "this" or "that."

But I always come back to one conclusion: while I am well aware that things in my life aren't perfect, and I certainly am not perfect, in the main--I like the way my life has turned out and I like myself.

So for fear of altering the course of my life in some unforeseen way, if given the chance, I would most certainly decline to tell my younger self anything.

Except...

There are a few dumb things I did. Perhaps if I had been forewarned, I might have done better.  Such as:

--remember the time I stopped going to movies? Well, that was dumb. Plain and simple. I love movies and I made no great moral point by avoiding them.

--then there was the time that because I had a migraine, I decided not to go to a concert. My husband had gotten tickets for us to go to an Eagles concert--I am a big fan of that group. Turned out the concert was superb--part of their comeback tour.  To this day, my husband has the tickets tucked away. And every so often he mentions it. Wish I had told myself--go to the concert. The headache won't last; the experience of a great concert will.

--swimming. Yup, just that. I wish I had learned to swim properly when I was a child. I had lessons, and regularly went to the public pool (in Bulawayo) where we had instructions. But I just couldn't get the hang of it. I loathed diving--putting my head underwater. I never mastered breathing. I can't float. Seriously--I just sink. So I wish...

--And one thing I most certainly would have told my younger self--take advantage of the places where you live and absorb as much as you can. For example. having grown up in southern Africa, I never even tried to learn any of the languages. I missed out on the experience of a lifetime simply because I couldn't be bothered.

That's it, folks.

Perhaps, as Polonius advised, I was being true to myself. Too impatient, too distracted, too young and immature. But, isn't that what it means to be young? Even if I had been able to advise my younger self, I doubt if I would have paid attention.

Home or Castle?

The concept that a man's home is his castle has always been hypothetical, at best, for me. Of course, understandably you feel that when you are in your own home, you should be safe. Generally, this concept is not tested--for most of us.

There is a sense that property crime is on the rise--at least in our area. Our local news reports more and more on robbery, armed robbery, home invasions, and thefts. We live near a modest sized city, and there has been a rash of incidents where people have been accosted by a small group of young men, sometimes with handguns, who rob the victim. Occasionally, someone is caught and charged, but not always.

To tell the truth, while such small time crime troubles me, since we live in the suburbs I did not feel too personally threatened. We also frequently travel into this city--although there are folks in the area who simply NEVER go there--because generally we do feel safe.

But two nights ago, we had a small incident in our neighborhood that brought the city problem to the suburbs. A neighbor of our, three doors away from our house, heard a knock at the front door. The teenage son answered the door, and there stood a young man, clad in jacket and cap and something across his face, with a gun in hand. He demanded cash. The teen's mother took a small amount of cash from a wallet, gave it to the armed man who fled.

As it happened, I walked Ziva--for her last time out before bed walk--around 10:45. This incident had occurred not 30 minutes before--so police cars were still in front of our neighbor's house. When one of the neighbors happened to emerge, I just said--what happened? And quickly learned the news.

Not much to tell, really. But such an incident sends little shock waves through a neighborhood. The next morning, our immediate next door neighbor came over to see us. She is a policewoman in the city, and she wanted to make sure we had heard the news, and would be properly cautious. She then asked what we do to protect ourselves when we walk the dog. Well, the answer is--nothing.

So, she went back to her house and came back with a can of pepper spray, police size and strength, and gave it to us. First, she gave my husband a brief tutorial on how to use it. And--she admonished us to carry it when we walk the dog.

Now, I have never conducted my life with fear as my main companion. I do not say I am foolhardy--of course, I try to use whatever street smarts I might have. I stay aware of my surroundings, and don't take unnecessary risks. But, an armed robber coming into our neighborhood gives me pause.

Then I examine what my real reaction is. Of course, I won't just open the front door after dark without knowing who is outside. But, I plan to keep walking the dog. This is MY neighborhood--no petty robber will drive me inside, clutching a can of pepper spray.

I must not be the only one to feel this way. Two nights before the incident at our neighbor's house, a would-be armed robber (this time with a knife) tried to rob a local mini-mart. This mini-mart is about 10 blocks from our house. The clerk in the store did NOT turn over cash, but instead tried to grab the shirt of the would-be robber, who then fled the store. Deep down, I harbor a suspicion that it's the same robber--who graduated from knife to gun. Yes, such a person as the would-be robber is dangerous. But he doesn't own the neighborhood.

I don't plan to hole up in the house. I will keep on walking the dog. I will look out for my neighbors, as they look out for me. And, since our neighbor gave it to us, I will keep the can of pepper spray at the door

The Art of Giving

On the occasion of his retirement, my husband received various gifts. Of course, each of the gifts was thoughtful, but he was not able to enjoy all of them to the fullest. One of the gifts was for two nights at a local bed and breakfast. Frankly, I am not sure why someone thought we would want to drive a few miles from our house to sleep in another house--but someone did.

We have had a busy year, what with a wedding last October, and a few other things, so we didn't get around to using the gift certificate.

When we called recently to inquire about it, we learned the bed and breakfast had been sold. In fact, in a month the new owner will take over, and will not use the place as a bed and breakfast.

Somewhat chagrined, we asked if we could at least come for a breakfast. Well, the answer was yes, so last week we traveled a few miles for a wonderful breakfast. Then we got a tour of the place. Herewith a peek inside.



The stunning stone house had walls at least a foot thick, with deep windows. It is situated right along a small creek.

The table all set for breakfast. I don't know about you, but I don't usually have a silver candelabra set for breakfast.

Love the chandelier hanging from the skylight three stories up!

And the soft rosy glow of the light next to the staircase.

This is a holder for a wine bottle.

Not sure if this is a tea service, a coffee stack, or pots du creme.

The front entrance hall with a painted floor.

One of the bedrooms. Every bedroom is different. Note the "dollhouse"? That's actually where the television set is concealed.

Another bedroom with a really HIGH bed.

And, one of the bathrooms. Every bedroom had its own bathroom, also each individually decorated.

This bedroom was a favorite of a prior owner--love the faux tropical theme.

This bedroom with light and airy.

Breakfast was smashingly good. The tour of the bed and breakfast most interesting. The new owner was there, and she conducted the tour of the place. She informed us that when she takes over in a month, almost all the furniture will be sold at auction. She thought some of the pieces too large, too high maintenance, too unsuitable for what she envisioned. So we were seeing the place as it will soon no longer be.

All in all, even though the gift was well-intentioned, it failed. So, what is the art of giving. Some people have the knack of giving the perfect gift (my daughter is one such person.)

First, I would suggest, know the person to whom you are giving the gift. Selecting a gift that is misdirected is almost like not giving a gift at all. Second, don't pick something just because YOU like it--make sure the receiver will like it too. This one is hard--I am reminded of a time I bought a sweater for my dear departed grandmother. I picked a red sweater, because I thought she would look great in red. But she never wore it. When I asked her why, she said--I don't like red.

I suspect you could add your own suggestions for the art of giving.

Read The Headlines

I have written here a bit about my 8 year stint in state government. But with the political news of late being dominated by tales of venality and corruption, I am reminded of the little bit of advice I would give people who asked about being in government.

The short version of advice is: READ THE HEADLINES.

The long version really isn't much more complicated--whatever the action, the behavior--I would advise my immediate subordinates--read the headlines. Take whatever it is you are planning to do (or not do) and then write an article, mentally--of course--and write the headline. Then read it. Do you like what it says? Would you be proud to have that headline splashed all over the front page? Yes? Fine. No? Then why do whatever.

So, Rod Blagojevich--you want to "sell" the Senate seat held by now President-elect Obama? Write the headline. Do you like it? Then don't pursue your venal plan.

Bernie Madoff--planning to set up a Ponzi scheme and bilk thousands of people out of billions of dollars, and eventually cause the death of several people. Don't like the headlines? Then skip the phony money scheme.

Then there is the bizarre case of Marc Dreier. He is a prominent NY attorney who tried to impersonate someone (while in Toronto) and then tried to sell phony bonds. I know. . .it is too bizarre. So read the headlines. Don't like the sound? Then skip all the craziness.

I had one other piece of advice to offer. Occasionally, someone would ask me what he or she needed to know before taking a position in state government. My answer? Decide in advance what issue you will fall on your sword for.

What do I mean by that? In state government, there are always pressures--I was a deputy secretary in our state health department. Under me was all quality assurance which included hospital and nursing home licensing, as well as approvals to open health facilities.

So, the governor's office might pressure me to speed up an approval. Or a legislator would tell a constituent that he, the legislator, could get those "do-nothings" in the health department to move things along. And then I would get a call. I would (gently) remind the legislator that the law prohibited such contacts while an application was pending, and did he want me to make a note of this ex parte contact? (The significance of that is that such contacts are discoverable were there ever to be a law suit.) Oh, no, no--the legislator would say--I am not trying to force you to do anything. Right.

So, early on, I decided what issue I could not engage in--had I been ordered to do so, I would have "fallen on my sword."

There you have it--my two pithy pieces of advice: read the headlines, then decide if your action would bear public scrutiny. And know what line you cannot and will not cross.

True Confessions

Remember those old magazines called True Confessions? Actually, as I began to write this post, I wondered if the magazine still exists. And it does!

Well, the confession I am about to make would never make this magazine. I have so little in my life that is racy enough for the cover announcements.

If I did, the announcement would read--I was not the most industrious student in the world! Or even in my college.

When I teach students, and interact with them, always at the back of my mind is the strong memory I have of the type of student I was. So, herewith three confessions.

1) I did not excel at all my subjects. When I entered college, I had aspirations of studying to become a physician. Well, I quickly ran into a subject called Chemistry, and knew my aspirations were doomed. I managed a C the first semester, and escaped with a D the second semester. So much for being a physician.

I still have my old grade transcripts, and as I look back over them, even in my eventual major subject--English--I did not always get top grades. In fact, I never made the Dean's list.

I did, however, excel at taking exams, and was exempted from one required course based on an exam. Further, I did very well on Graduate Record Exams (GREs) earning one of the highest grades anyone from my college had earned to that point.

2) I did not always start my papers timely. Perhaps the most egregious example of this tendency occurred when I was in graduate school. I was writing a paper for the seminar on Chaucer and. . .well, I just didn't get started early enough. By the time I had to leave for class, I was still typing the paper. So, I took along my little portable typewriter, and with it balanced on my knees, I kept typing while my girlfriend drove me to class. I scrunched what should have been 4 or 5 pages into one closing page. As a result, I failed the paper and the professor told me to rewrite it. When I did, he gave me a B, and told me in no uncertain terms that the paper would have been an A, had I put the effort into it initially.

3) I did not always read the assignments in advance of class. In fact, the habit was brought crashingly back to my recollection in a most unusual way. After grad school, I returned to my undergraduate alma mater as my first teaching career. Soon after I began teaching, some of my students came to me and said--do you know what Dr. S told us about you? Puzzled, I said--no. Then they said--he said we have to read our assignments; otherwise we won't be able to discuss intelligently in class. In fact, he continued, there is only one student that I had who could discuss intelligently without having read the assignment--Miss C was the only one who could do that (that was me!).

I went to him, my former professor and now colleague, and said--please stop telling my students about my old habits. Now, I find this story hilarious, but at the time I was mortified.

Don't tell the students what I did as a student!

This Above All. . .to Thine Own Self

One of the most often memorized speeches from a Shakespeare play is Polonius' speech in Hamlet, when he is sending his son, Laertes, off to college. In Act I, scene 3, he has a long speech (as are many of Polonius' speeches) which ends thus:

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Many have quoted those lines, preceding them with "As Shakespeare says. . ." English major that I am, I want to say (and sometimes do)--well, actually Shakespeare puts that speech in the mouth of Polonius who happens to be an inflated self-important windbag, who is usually wrong. Conversation stopper, that!

The subject of this blog is ADVICE. Hence, the reference to and use of Polonius. Advice stays with us, if it is sound and comes from someone we respect. I offer two of the best pieces of advice I ever got. And, as you read, perhaps you can reflect on the best advice you have ever gotten.

BEST ADVICE # 1

One time, my father and I were talking--this conversation occurred in the basement of the parsonage at the Cleona (Pennsylvania) Church my dad happened to be pastor of at the time. I don't know what exactly prompted it, but I suspect it was my impending marriage. My father said that he believes the secret to a happy marriage is that each partner is always giving 51% in the marriage, while the other partner is giving 49%. Now, think about that. If each is giving 51% they are both giving more than half to make the marriage successful. He didn't just give that advice--he must have lived it as well. When my mother died 17 years ago, they had been happily married for 48 and a half years. In fact, my dad rued the fact that they did not reach their 50th anniversary. (My dad has since remarried, and can continue to put into practice his secret of a happy marriage.)

BEST ADVICE # 2

When I graduated from college, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I had a degree in English Literature, but no specific thought in mind as to career. So, I did what any thinking college graduate does who doesn't have a clue about the future--I went to grad school. While I was there, I wrote a letter to one of my all-time favorite profs at my alma mater and said "if there is anything I can do to repay you for being such a great professor, let me know." Imagine my surprise (and delight) when he wrote back to say--we have an opening in the English department; one of the professors is going on sabbatical. Can you fill in for a year? Could I ever! That year turned into 8 years of college teaching.

Before I began teaching, I asked him what advice he would give a new teacher. He said--never be afraid to talk above your students' knowledge level and never be afraid to say "I don't know." Each of those little tidbits sounds so simple. Talking over students' heads? Almost counter-intuitive. But, he went on to explain that if you only ever teach to the level a student has already mastered, the student never grows. So teaching above them (occasionally) forces them to stretch and grow academically. And the advice to say "I don't know" was also counter-intuitive. Aren't professors supposed to know EVERYTHING. Well, I was quite relieved, because as a really new teacher and someone who just a year before had been a student myself, I knew I didn't know a whole lot.

A few years after I had stopped teaching at that college, I got a letter from a former student. She was full of praise remembering my teaching. One thing, she said, really stood out for her--that I would acknowledge that I didn't know everything, and that I was willing to see a point a student made by saying "I never thought of it that way." She remarked how refreshing it was to have a professor who allowed as how students could be the source of wisdom.

Well, enough of my meandering. What good advice have you received along your way?