10 x 10 = Detention

I thought I was stupid as a kid...no lie.
To be fair, we can all make that claim...some of us are more distinguished in the field than others, to be sure.
But when it came to school, especially numbers, I was-to my own way of reckoning-top of the heap.

Things were okay for a while...first through third grade were actually smooth sailing.
I could even add back then without counting fingers and toes.
But when 4th grade came about, two things happened. The New Math came in and I broke my arm.

The broken arm (suffered by falling out of bed, tres tragique!)was easy. But the "New Math," thrown in there along with fractions and such, was total confusion.
I took copious notes, including suggested "nifty tricks," but to no avail.
My mind was blown. I'd cry at night before my school books...unable to do the homework.

Fortune shone upon me in that my right hand was part of the arm that was broken so I couldn't actually "do" the homework, and because there were 60 kids in the class room, the teacher didn't have a lot of chances to give personal attention.

I can't remember some of how I made it from one grade to another...sure felt like I was just caught up in the tide and pushed along with everybody else.

It wasn't until sixth grade or so that one of the nuns (I went to Catholic school)
noticed I couldn't add. All heck broke loose, but still I went on to seventh grade and Sister Christopher.

I was able understand physics but unable to do simple (let alone complex) math. It was hell standing up there before the blackboard in front of a packed classroom and try to do what Sister Christopher wanted.

God knows I tried, but no matter what the answers never came out the same way twice.
At first she punished me thinking I was just playing a game. She kicked me out of the class, made me stay after school, sent notes home and gave me extra assignments. Nothing changed. My parents couldn't help, heck they didn't understand the New Math either!

I don't have many clear memories of these school days. Some are blurred in the selective filing system of aging while others are distorted due to the proclivities of my then-mental disorder.

I do remember Sister Christopher taking a special interest. I remember her coming into the hallway where I sat while banned from her class. I remember her calling me over, my knees shaking and my brain starting to get fuzzy.
She touched my shoulder and said things would be okay, so I calmed down.
We had a talk. We made a deal. I'd do what I could in math and study twice as hard in science...hey! Worked for me!

Sister Christopher was and remains one of my favorite teachers, not because I was her pet-I wasn't. She saw what no one else saw, and when she couldn't reach past that impervious road block that was my personality disorder, she didn't cringe. She worked with what she could.

Maybe I couldn't do the math but I could stand up there in science class (she also taught science) and expound on the Genetic Code, and all kinds of stuff. By the end of that school year I was feeling a lot better about things. I wan't having so many
"blanks" (where I didn't feel present for days and weeks at a time).

It was okay to be who I was...even if it meant loosing time once in a while.
Through the years I've had bouts of "blanks." In 1980 I finally got help and haven't had many major setbacks since about 1983 or so.

The math is still a problem although science-wise, all is well.
I may never be able to do long division, and still need to pull out the calculator for all things numeric, but thanks to Sister Christopher at least I don't hate myself for being that way.

So for today, Fifty-five is all about the number 10, not because it's the age (for me) when the new math came in...but because the painful memories of those experiences no longer have that crippling effect over me.

Seventeen-ish

Seventeen...too old to be a kid, too young to be considered an adult. That's what seventeen was all about.
The "push-me-pull-you" assigned seventeen is a bad rap. Contrary to some folks' experiences, to me it was all about anticipation and making ready for what's next, whatever, whomever, however.
People were asking about my future plans, what did I want to be...they told me it was time to set about making those decisions. All I could tell them was what I didn't want to be...I didn't want to be ordinary.

Today Fifty-Five feels like seventeen....as we're working on our music, videos and so on there's a lot of anticipation/anxiety. Although I've been craving to do this creativity thing full time all my life, there's a little voice inside trying to say "You're too old. It's too late." Occasionally I almost give in...almost.
But then there's the other voice-the one for which I am eternally grateful-that tells me "Nothing is impossible and you're never too old."
That's the one I want to listen to...same one that, at age seventeen, told me to keep on keeping on.

As it has turned out so far, my life has been anything but ordinary, and for that I am eternally grateful. So for today, Fifty-five is the New Seventeen...for then, for now...and for the best being yet to come.

Billions and Billions

E=MC2..
Sometimes this Fifty Five comparison thing has little to do with ages, but we are talking emotions at any rate. Right?
So for today, Fifty Five is the new Billions and Billions, in honor of science-in particular physics and astronomy, in honor of Dr. Carl Sagan (who never really said that until his book with that title came out), and to the idea that the sky is indeed NOT the limit.

We can chain ourselves to the prisons we build or we can break free. It only takes a decision and the follow through. Some may think it irresponsible to have dreams.
"Dreams in this day and age..." I overheard someone saying on a bus recently.

Yep. Dreams. Damn those pesky things! But seriously folks, dreams are important...they are relative to our lives. They help us set goals, define our reality, serve as warnings and act as an amusement for erstwhile bored synapses.
It's important not to block them, important to encourage them.

Dreams are the stuff of life, like breathing and water.

So for today Fifty Five is the New Billions and Billions...for all of our dreams and all of our tomorrows.

Morning Headache

Seeing Red 2  by rcw

Woke up with a bit of a headache.....yuck!  Makes the whole morning suck.

Best remedy I know if is a good stiff hot black cup of coffee and a couple of aspirins....maybe a piece of toast or cracker first to cushion the blow.  After that, just lay down for a while....phone turned off and Do Not Disturb Under Penalty Of Death sign slung on the doorknob.

If that doesn't work, then I'm in bed for the day.  I hate that, but once in a while that's all I can do.

Today will improve, I felt well enough to get up and write this....but feel the need to lay down again, maybe take another aspirin...been a few hours and there's still an edge of pain around my eyes.

So for right now, Fifty Five Is The New Morning Headache....but it's getting better.

0 0, Ut oh, O ho, Oh

Ambiguous, plain and simple, that's what Fifty Five feels like today. How does one assign a numeric equivalent to that?
+/-? Nah! 20/20? Been done! Hmmmm....
Not having been 100 yet there is no comparison, though in all probability when that occurs I'll probably slow down a little. But I have been a few ambiguous ages in the past...which one of them to choose from? (And do I REALLY wanna go there?)

No! I want a whole new ambiguosity! (who cares if that's a word or not!) So for today, because they can do it in sports why can't I do it here, Fifty Five will be the new 00!

I'm not saying Fifty Five feels like nothing, quite the opposite! There are sometimes just so many feelings splattered all over the spectrum it's hard to isolate just one.
Sometimes it's just better to appreciate the rainbow rather than only looking at the science behind it.

Some might say "Okay, but 00 sounds uncommitted...disinterested, cynical."
Well, that all depends on your interpretation of 0. 0 can mean zero. It can also mean "Oh!", or "O-ho!" or even "Ut-Oh!" Seen in that light, 0 has a lot more to say! And Double Zero has even more!

If we go waaaaaaay back to before zero was invented, we'd see just how important our old round friend is in our modern lives! Where would we be with out it? Where would our computers be without Zero? It could be argued that something else would have had to have been invented. This further illustrate the need for 0.

So for today, to me, Fifty Five is the new 00...ambiguous perhaps, unimportant? You be the judge!

Balancing Act

"How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?"  Good question to ask folks sitting on top of the pile. How does one answer the same question when they're on the bottom, being weighed down by the guy above's baggage and riches? 

Where does one draw the line between too much and not enough?  And when it comes to the "Haves" and the "Have-Nots," where does one place a judgement?  Suppose the "Have" person worked their hands to the bone to make what they got?  Suppose the "Have Not" didn't get the same opportunity?  Then what?

Is there really supposed to be a universal fairness? I don't know....if so it would totally eradicate the notion of things like Karma, reciprocity and responsibility for one's actions.

No....much as it would be nice, and believe me I'm not exactly living in the lap of luxury, I think just giving everybody everything evenly isn't such a good idea.  Neither is letting people starve in the streets though...so there's a long way to go before we get it completely right.

But that's what we're here to do....figure it out.

So for today, Fifty Five Is The New Balancing Act....social justice, fairness.....hmmmm.

Rock A Bye Baby, Two

I do remember being in a crib and trading my bottle for brother Jim's toy truck, and I recall something about teething. Mainly that it hurt, and mom put warm tea in my bottle, a memory that crops up once in a while when tea is brewed just right.
That's what happened today. I have some pending dental work and that always puts me in a pensive mood. So I made some tea and caught a remnant of my past on the edge of my taste buds.

To be honest, I am not sure of my age at the crib or teething incidents, I think the bottle/toy exchange happened first. Whatever. It felt good to retreat to that place in time, to garner some comfort at the thought of my dental destiny (looming on the horizon tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.).

I really have nothing against dentists, other than the fact that they're doing all that drilling, poking and filling inside my head...hideously close to my eyes and brain. I'm terribly fond of both. We've developed a great relationship through the years and they trust me not to bring them to any harm.

And I HAVE had a dentist say "Oooops!" as some dental tool came crashing down on my front teeth. In all honesty, I've also had some good experiences too. That's why I still have my teeth....so far. We'll see after this upcoming visit. Oy!

Anyway, for today I wanna feel warm and fuzzy...wanna feel wrapped in a blanket, safe and happy with my toy truck AND my bottle. So for today, fifty-five is the new two.
Hey! There's nothing wrong with a little self-soothing!