Sparks Ignites

I believe I was born with social anxiety. I know we are supposed to think we’re born with a clean slate, but my slate had a few smudge marks. Probably my first thought after delivery was, “Everyone is looking at me. OMG I’m naked in a room of strangers. Hey, someone get a diaper over here. Don’t look at my folds and creases. God, already I need the Beverly Hills Nursery Diet.”   I had tiny baby hands and you know what that means.

Since the Republican debates began, I’ve been strangling my sofa pillow in shock and frustration. I’ve watched Presidential Psycho and checked into The Debates Motel. You must leave your sanity and decorum at the door. Don’t use the shower; someone with tiny hands might want to show you their national endowment. Yes, that’s what the political process in our country has become; a finger pointing, yelling match between some of the worst presidential candidates the Republican party has ever offered up. It’s the Real House Husbands of DC. A bad reality show with character slurs, profanity and penis jokes.

I always celebrated Easter when I was growing up. Both my parents were Catholic, so of course we observed the holy day. It was the special weekend when we gorged on baskets of chocolate, ate a baked ham, and watched The Ten Commandments . Sometimes we would also catch a broadcast of the King of Kings . This is the film where Jesus is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, prophet. It seemed he should’ve been carrying a surf board for his sermon on the mount. “Blessed are the meek and hang ten.”

  There is an annual event in Philadelphia, and for all its notoriety, there is still an audience that hasn’t experienced its unique beauty and creativity. The event is the Philadelphia Flower Show presented by The Pennsylvania Horticultural Society (PHS).   

“I pledge allegiance to the dollar and to the Republic for which money rules, one nation, controlled by Washington and Wall Street, with corruption and greed for all.” The American Dream has turned to balls – Powerballs. There’s always a frenzy when we hear of a giant jackpot. It’s the dream of “Easy Street” and being financially secure. We all want the 1.5 billion jackpot. It’s a fantasy to be swimming in money and living the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt this program to bring you a news bulletin from the National Weather Service. A “ Bread and Milk Emergency” has been issued for the tri-state area. Everyone is required to head to a nearby supermarket and purchase an obligatory loaf of bread and a gallon of milk.

I am a Christmas-a-holic. Yes, I love the entire Christmas season. I love the decorations, the music, the food, the gift giving, and the time spent with loved ones. I’m always filled with a sense of wonder when the holiday season arrives. Every Christmas is built on memories and traditions that were part of my childhood. Growing up, there was only one thing that didn’t jingle my bells about December 25 th , and that was the man in red – Santa Claus. It wasn’t that I didn’t want the gifts or doubted his existence. I just didn’t want to sit on his lap or be anywhere in his vicinity. I had a “Santa safety zone” and it was at least a football field in size. Anything closer and my knees grew weak and visions of monster sugar plums danced before my eyes. Even being downwind of a peppermint scent made me queasy.