I just realized that when MSN migrated my 'photo blog' last January, I forgot to update the link on this blog. The link is now correct. If you were a member of my previous site, you will need to rejoin this site as approved memberships did not transfer when the site was migrated My apologies!
So if you want to check out my adventures dating back to 2001, click the link on the right for "my photo blog."
Enjoy!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
My Mind is Wandering to Several Friends ...
It's a lovely start to the Memorial Day weekend. I'm in my new apartment, unpacking, and am enjoying a few of the things in life that bring me the most joy: the sound of birds chirping, the way the breeze is blowing through my windows and rustling the leaves of my plants ... its coolness on my skin, the way the sunlight is luminating my apartment.
Putting away the contents of the last of the boxes, I came across my travel accessories. Sleep masks, cosmetic bags, adapters, ... , and the bag I take on international trips. This bag previously served as a briefcase/purse so it was always with me. It's the perfect bag for long flights and all day excursions as it works well with any outfit and is designed in a way that works for just about anything. The last time I used this bag was 6 years ago. As I went through the contents, memories came flooding back and my mind began to wander...
... the travel size deodorant, toothbrush, and cleansing cloths took me back to a beautiful summer day on the Amalfi Coast. Driving the coast line. Lunching in Priano. Sunbathing in Amalfi. Driving up the hillside to Ravello ... stopping, of course, at the pottery shop to say 'hello' to its owner who assisted me two years before when I had an accident on my rented Vespa. Cleaning up and changing into a little travel dress which had been neatly rolled and tucked in my bag next to my beach towel. The lights of the entire town going out in the middle of dinner. Jazz concert in the villa's ruins under the stars.
... a 24" x 18" piece of paper which, when not folded, displays a letter from my stepdaughter, Meagan Vogele. Each sentence in a different crayon color. She sent this to me when I moved with P&G and she was worried that I would be lonely. That was 1997. I miss her.
... a burgundy velour pouch containing two 'stones.' One, clear glass with different colored strokes leading from the outer edge to the center. The other, with half white and half black strokes. A gift for my sabbatical from Laurent Horvath. He promised I would learn their meaning as I traveled my journey. And learn, I did.
... a letter from Raven, a little girl from the inner city whom I tutored in math in 2004. She describes her Christmas, and tells me how "People be messing with me at school." The only way I was able to help Raven remember the multiplication table was for us to put our arms around each other and step only on every other tile of the church atrium floor while reciting equations. "One times one is ...", "one times two is ...", "one times three is ..." I wonder where Raven is now.
... a lovely poem cut from a greeting card and given to me by ... whom? I can't remember. "When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: there will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught how to fly." by Barbara J. Winter
... I smile. Another poem. This one is an email dated October 7, 1997 at 10:24 am. My birthday. A friend who worked down the hall from me in the Food & Beverage division of Procter & Gamble wrote a poem for me reminding me of many wonderful moments we all shared there in the office. WC ~ he knows who he is.
... an invitation to a Flying Pig Marathon party at Brad Frank's apartment to watch him run past. Breakfast, Bloody Marys, pajamas and lawn chairs provided. May 9th of what year? Be Frank With Me.
... May 3, 1994. A heart-shaped note paper with a message written in purple. I don't even have to read it to know that it's from Jillian Chamberlain. Always a friend. Always a sister. Always there. The most pure-hearted woman I have ever met (aside from my mother). Her note encourages me through the difficult time of deciding to leave my marriage.
... 2001, a card from Lori talking about the wonders of good girlfriends. That was a very special time in my life. I was blessed with a very close circle of friends who will forever be at the core of my heart: Natalie, Nelson, Lori, Deborah.
... a card from my parents just before I left for my European sabbatical in 2001. So special to me that I prefer to hold the reasons so close to my heart that I cannot share.
... lastly, a card with a lovely photo of a lone house off in the distance in the French countryside, and a long road leading up to it. The words inside are sweet, and its signed 'Sancho.' I cannot, for the life of me, remember who 'Sancho' is. I turned the card over and noticed I had written a date. June 14, 2003. Ah. Now I remember. And I also remember the last trip I used this bag was in July 2003. What I remember about the card and the trip are not the words, the moments, nor even Sancho. I remember a moment just before the trip ... I was walking away from the Hyde Park Blast street party with a friend, Steve S., who said, "You're dating the wrong Steve." And even though it was fear that kept me from verbally agreeing with him, we both knew he was right.
These treasures are being placed in my current bag. I hesitate when placing Sancho's card with my treasures, but decide to as a reminder not to allow fear to guide my choices.
Putting away the contents of the last of the boxes, I came across my travel accessories. Sleep masks, cosmetic bags, adapters, ... , and the bag I take on international trips. This bag previously served as a briefcase/purse so it was always with me. It's the perfect bag for long flights and all day excursions as it works well with any outfit and is designed in a way that works for just about anything. The last time I used this bag was 6 years ago. As I went through the contents, memories came flooding back and my mind began to wander...
... the travel size deodorant, toothbrush, and cleansing cloths took me back to a beautiful summer day on the Amalfi Coast. Driving the coast line. Lunching in Priano. Sunbathing in Amalfi. Driving up the hillside to Ravello ... stopping, of course, at the pottery shop to say 'hello' to its owner who assisted me two years before when I had an accident on my rented Vespa. Cleaning up and changing into a little travel dress which had been neatly rolled and tucked in my bag next to my beach towel. The lights of the entire town going out in the middle of dinner. Jazz concert in the villa's ruins under the stars.
... a 24" x 18" piece of paper which, when not folded, displays a letter from my stepdaughter, Meagan Vogele. Each sentence in a different crayon color. She sent this to me when I moved with P&G and she was worried that I would be lonely. That was 1997. I miss her.
... a burgundy velour pouch containing two 'stones.' One, clear glass with different colored strokes leading from the outer edge to the center. The other, with half white and half black strokes. A gift for my sabbatical from Laurent Horvath. He promised I would learn their meaning as I traveled my journey. And learn, I did.
... a letter from Raven, a little girl from the inner city whom I tutored in math in 2004. She describes her Christmas, and tells me how "People be messing with me at school." The only way I was able to help Raven remember the multiplication table was for us to put our arms around each other and step only on every other tile of the church atrium floor while reciting equations. "One times one is ...", "one times two is ...", "one times three is ..." I wonder where Raven is now.
... a lovely poem cut from a greeting card and given to me by ... whom? I can't remember. "When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: there will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught how to fly." by Barbara J. Winter
... I smile. Another poem. This one is an email dated October 7, 1997 at 10:24 am. My birthday. A friend who worked down the hall from me in the Food & Beverage division of Procter & Gamble wrote a poem for me reminding me of many wonderful moments we all shared there in the office. WC ~ he knows who he is.
... an invitation to a Flying Pig Marathon party at Brad Frank's apartment to watch him run past. Breakfast, Bloody Marys, pajamas and lawn chairs provided. May 9th of what year? Be Frank With Me.
... May 3, 1994. A heart-shaped note paper with a message written in purple. I don't even have to read it to know that it's from Jillian Chamberlain. Always a friend. Always a sister. Always there. The most pure-hearted woman I have ever met (aside from my mother). Her note encourages me through the difficult time of deciding to leave my marriage.
... 2001, a card from Lori talking about the wonders of good girlfriends. That was a very special time in my life. I was blessed with a very close circle of friends who will forever be at the core of my heart: Natalie, Nelson, Lori, Deborah.
... a card from my parents just before I left for my European sabbatical in 2001. So special to me that I prefer to hold the reasons so close to my heart that I cannot share.
... lastly, a card with a lovely photo of a lone house off in the distance in the French countryside, and a long road leading up to it. The words inside are sweet, and its signed 'Sancho.' I cannot, for the life of me, remember who 'Sancho' is. I turned the card over and noticed I had written a date. June 14, 2003. Ah. Now I remember. And I also remember the last trip I used this bag was in July 2003. What I remember about the card and the trip are not the words, the moments, nor even Sancho. I remember a moment just before the trip ... I was walking away from the Hyde Park Blast street party with a friend, Steve S., who said, "You're dating the wrong Steve." And even though it was fear that kept me from verbally agreeing with him, we both knew he was right.
These treasures are being placed in my current bag. I hesitate when placing Sancho's card with my treasures, but decide to as a reminder not to allow fear to guide my choices.
Delta Air Lines Loses Its Last Loyal Customer!
For years I've defended Delta Air Lines and my extreme loyalty to them. They have now pushed me over the edge and I'm searching for a new airline to love and adore! The winner will receive my undying love and devotion, and I'll transfer my Platinum Delta American Express account to them.
I'm a classic loyalist. When I find something I enjoy and that works for me, I will never change until I'm forced...and you will never get me back again. I want products and services that make my life simple so that I can spend my attention and energy on living life.
Delta began to make my life more difficult several years ago. Sadly, my patience and loyalty to them far exceeded their loyalty to me...
My relationship with Delta began about 24 years ago. Living and working in Cincinnati, where Delta was a hub, they were the preferred airline of the company I worked for. Whenever flights didn't match my schedule, I'd defer to American, United or US Air. But I loved the service I received from Delta and the others always failed me.
Over the years, I heard more and more complaints about Delta being "the worst airline." I would quickly defend them and share stories of the exceptional service I always received. Stories of Delta going above and beyond for me. My friends had never heard of such service from Delta and were amazed. Post 9/11, the level of service I received started to slip. But I dismissed any issues as the industry was struggling. I was willing to accept lesser service for the great good of keeping Delta and the industry alive. (Seriously, I would actually say that. I was even waiting for the first post 9/11 Delta international flight to be announced ... I would be on that plane refusing to let the bad guys win.)
Three years ago I moved to New York City, and Delta's service slipped even more. I realized I wasn't in Cincinnati anymore. With each encounter, my patience and opinion of Delta Air Lines has lessened. A few months ago, I took a trip home to Cincinnati. It was a nightmare. Issues with online booking led to customer service telling me they were having issues with their software system and I would have to go to the airport to book my ticket. When I asked if it made sense for me to spend 2-3 hours of my time plus $75 in cab fares to do that, they simply said that was the only way they could help me. Instead, I called back the next day and the customer service representative was able to book the ticket...with a fee double what the online reservation had quoted, plus a baggage fee. When I questioned the baggage fee as I had medallion status, I was told to work it out at the airport. When I arrived at the airport on the day of my flight, I was surprised to learn I had lost my medallion status which was the reason I had been charged for baggage. I asked why I hadn't been notified. In the past, if I came even remotely close to losing my medallion status, I would receive an email advising me well in advance allowing me time to book flights (and yes, I'll take additional trips just to stay medallion). Then, to top it off, they couldn't see in their system that I had already paid the baggage fee so they charged me again instructing me to work it out when it showed up on my Platinum Delta American Express statement.
It gets better. My Sunday night return flight was delayed...and delayed...and delayed. I'm quite surprised to say that my text alerts came through so I didn't have to wait around at the airport but was able to have 2 more hours with my parents. When I checked my bags at the airport, for yet another $40, I knew something was up when the woman at the counter got on her walkie-talkie to advise someone that there were "2 more bags." I wasn't late for the flight, so I knew I was in for some additional Delta-Drama. When I arrived at the gate, there was my entire flight...seats were full, people were pacing, others were sitting or sleeping all over the floor. This did not look good. I spent the next 2 hours sitting on the floor. I was 99% certain this was it for my relationship with Delta. When I arrived in NY, at 1:30am, I realized there must have been a 'software issue' with that walkie-talkie. Yep. My bags did not arrive. 99.5% certain now.
The letter I received from Delta began each paragraph with "We apologize for any inconvenience...", "I am sorry for your disappointment...", "Please accept my apology..." But hey, they gave me a $75 ecredit voucher! Wow.
The Final Straw:
Earlier this week, I booked a Delta frequent flyer ticket for my niece to visit me this summer. As she is under 15 years old and will be traveling unaccompanied, there is a $100 fee per flight leg. (This is standard on all airlines.) This is an airport fee so I was told to pay the person at the Delta counter at each airport. I wanted to pay it now so that her parents wouldn't have to pay it. No problem, Ms. Burke, there will be an additional $100 fee in order for you to do that.
You have got to be kidding me.
100%!!
DELTA IS THE WORST AIRLINE!
Now accepting recommendations for a new airline partner...
I'm a classic loyalist. When I find something I enjoy and that works for me, I will never change until I'm forced...and you will never get me back again. I want products and services that make my life simple so that I can spend my attention and energy on living life.
Delta began to make my life more difficult several years ago. Sadly, my patience and loyalty to them far exceeded their loyalty to me...
My relationship with Delta began about 24 years ago. Living and working in Cincinnati, where Delta was a hub, they were the preferred airline of the company I worked for. Whenever flights didn't match my schedule, I'd defer to American, United or US Air. But I loved the service I received from Delta and the others always failed me.
Over the years, I heard more and more complaints about Delta being "the worst airline." I would quickly defend them and share stories of the exceptional service I always received. Stories of Delta going above and beyond for me. My friends had never heard of such service from Delta and were amazed. Post 9/11, the level of service I received started to slip. But I dismissed any issues as the industry was struggling. I was willing to accept lesser service for the great good of keeping Delta and the industry alive. (Seriously, I would actually say that. I was even waiting for the first post 9/11 Delta international flight to be announced ... I would be on that plane refusing to let the bad guys win.)
Three years ago I moved to New York City, and Delta's service slipped even more. I realized I wasn't in Cincinnati anymore. With each encounter, my patience and opinion of Delta Air Lines has lessened. A few months ago, I took a trip home to Cincinnati. It was a nightmare. Issues with online booking led to customer service telling me they were having issues with their software system and I would have to go to the airport to book my ticket. When I asked if it made sense for me to spend 2-3 hours of my time plus $75 in cab fares to do that, they simply said that was the only way they could help me. Instead, I called back the next day and the customer service representative was able to book the ticket...with a fee double what the online reservation had quoted, plus a baggage fee. When I questioned the baggage fee as I had medallion status, I was told to work it out at the airport. When I arrived at the airport on the day of my flight, I was surprised to learn I had lost my medallion status which was the reason I had been charged for baggage. I asked why I hadn't been notified. In the past, if I came even remotely close to losing my medallion status, I would receive an email advising me well in advance allowing me time to book flights (and yes, I'll take additional trips just to stay medallion). Then, to top it off, they couldn't see in their system that I had already paid the baggage fee so they charged me again instructing me to work it out when it showed up on my Platinum Delta American Express statement.
It gets better. My Sunday night return flight was delayed...and delayed...and delayed. I'm quite surprised to say that my text alerts came through so I didn't have to wait around at the airport but was able to have 2 more hours with my parents. When I checked my bags at the airport, for yet another $40, I knew something was up when the woman at the counter got on her walkie-talkie to advise someone that there were "2 more bags." I wasn't late for the flight, so I knew I was in for some additional Delta-Drama. When I arrived at the gate, there was my entire flight...seats were full, people were pacing, others were sitting or sleeping all over the floor. This did not look good. I spent the next 2 hours sitting on the floor. I was 99% certain this was it for my relationship with Delta. When I arrived in NY, at 1:30am, I realized there must have been a 'software issue' with that walkie-talkie. Yep. My bags did not arrive. 99.5% certain now.
The letter I received from Delta began each paragraph with "We apologize for any inconvenience...", "I am sorry for your disappointment...", "Please accept my apology..." But hey, they gave me a $75 ecredit voucher! Wow.
The Final Straw:
Earlier this week, I booked a Delta frequent flyer ticket for my niece to visit me this summer. As she is under 15 years old and will be traveling unaccompanied, there is a $100 fee per flight leg. (This is standard on all airlines.) This is an airport fee so I was told to pay the person at the Delta counter at each airport. I wanted to pay it now so that her parents wouldn't have to pay it. No problem, Ms. Burke, there will be an additional $100 fee in order for you to do that.
You have got to be kidding me.
100%!!
DELTA IS THE WORST AIRLINE!
Now accepting recommendations for a new airline partner...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Deserved Diva Patti LuPone Stops Show & Has Audience Member Thrown Out ~ Deservedly?
Last night, I attended the evening performance of Gypsy. Patti LuPone angrily stopped her performance to berate and remove an audience member who took three, according to Patti, photos. Announcements before the performance and during intermission had specifically communicated that no photos were permitted. Patti's anger was intense and so was the berating.
I had my own pov, of course, but wanted to hear the thoughts of others, both in attendance and not, before sharing my own...
- Sophia, an actress friend of mine, was appalled as her perspective is "The first thing you learn is that, regardless, the show always must go on."
-another friend involved in Broadway shows wasn't surprised given Patti's reputation of being over-the-top in her diva-ness. But he also thought she was completely out of line (even after giving her the benefit of the doubt that this has possibly been a continuous issue during the production).
-several friends in the business world shared the perspective that "we don't know what's happened in that theatre" (what she's had to put up with throughout the production) and that her actions could very well be justified.
-a very few felt nothing justified her behavior.
Interesting, the range of pov's and considerations given their fields.
I was curious to see whether I would hear any viewpoint(s) compelling enough to alter my own perspective. I didn't. Below are my thoughts on the situation:
-I give Patti credit for her singing talents. Wow! She is very deserving of Diva. This was my first LuPone performance and I was blown away by her singing (acting, not so much as I couldn't get lost in her character and was always conscious that I was watching an actress on a stage).
-I agree with Patti that Broadway isn't what it used to be, for the worse. Every time I see a show, I am disappointed to see people in jeans, gym shoes, shorts even. I irritated that grown adults can't seem to remember to turn their cell phones off. Who forgets to turn their phone off in such a venue? I don't even want to know what other situations these people allow their phones to ring. I'm irritated by those who can't seem to truly whisper. And appalled by situations such as one a friend experienced...the person behind her unwrapped a tuna sandwich and had dinner.
-I agree that no photos should be taken during performances. This is Patti's means of making a living (the salaries of entertainers is a separate issue), there are copyright laws, and come on...how disruptive to someone on stage to have light flashes where there shouldn't be any.
-The intensity of the anger Patti displayed for all of us was shocking. It was enough for the stranger sitting next to me to tell me it made his palms sweat ~ enough to put knots in my stomach...and we weren't even the intended recipient of the berating. But, let's give Patti the benefit of the doubt...if it irritates me, how much more so would it irritate those on stage who are there night-after-night? Given this was 'Gypsy', given this was 'Patti LuPone', I have to believe cell phone and photography issues happen with each performance.
-But does any of this justify calling someone out and berating them in front of an audience? Does it justify anyone attacking another? In public? With such intense anger? Where's the professionalism? Where's the maturity? The bad behavior of one person does not justify bad behavior from another. (I could go into the fact that the audience member was an adoring fan, but that perspective seems so trivial given the degree of Patti's response.)
I believe Patti's inappropriate behavior far surpassed that of the audience member who snapped the photos. I walked in holding her in high regard, I left with an extremely low opinion of her. And yes, her talent is more than diminished. In my eyes, she stripped herself of all talent. It's up to Patti to create her talent again.
We live in a country where we enjoy our individual rights. Personally, I'm tired of inappropriate behavior being justified by one's 'rights' and by what our government has set as law.
(And don't get me started on that new commercial she's in.)
Was this berating & removal deserved?
- Sophia, an actress friend of mine, was appalled as her perspective is "The first thing you learn is that, regardless, the show always must go on."
-another friend involved in Broadway shows wasn't surprised given Patti's reputation of being over-the-top in her diva-ness. But he also thought she was completely out of line (even after giving her the benefit of the doubt that this has possibly been a continuous issue during the production).
-several friends in the business world shared the perspective that "we don't know what's happened in that theatre" (what she's had to put up with throughout the production) and that her actions could very well be justified.
-a very few felt nothing justified her behavior.
Interesting, the range of pov's and considerations given their fields.
I was curious to see whether I would hear any viewpoint(s) compelling enough to alter my own perspective. I didn't. Below are my thoughts on the situation:
-I give Patti credit for her singing talents. Wow! She is very deserving of Diva. This was my first LuPone performance and I was blown away by her singing (acting, not so much as I couldn't get lost in her character and was always conscious that I was watching an actress on a stage).
-I agree with Patti that Broadway isn't what it used to be, for the worse. Every time I see a show, I am disappointed to see people in jeans, gym shoes, shorts even. I irritated that grown adults can't seem to remember to turn their cell phones off. Who forgets to turn their phone off in such a venue? I don't even want to know what other situations these people allow their phones to ring. I'm irritated by those who can't seem to truly whisper. And appalled by situations such as one a friend experienced...the person behind her unwrapped a tuna sandwich and had dinner.
-I agree that no photos should be taken during performances. This is Patti's means of making a living (the salaries of entertainers is a separate issue), there are copyright laws, and come on...how disruptive to someone on stage to have light flashes where there shouldn't be any.
-The intensity of the anger Patti displayed for all of us was shocking. It was enough for the stranger sitting next to me to tell me it made his palms sweat ~ enough to put knots in my stomach...and we weren't even the intended recipient of the berating. But, let's give Patti the benefit of the doubt...if it irritates me, how much more so would it irritate those on stage who are there night-after-night? Given this was 'Gypsy', given this was 'Patti LuPone', I have to believe cell phone and photography issues happen with each performance.
-But does any of this justify calling someone out and berating them in front of an audience? Does it justify anyone attacking another? In public? With such intense anger? Where's the professionalism? Where's the maturity? The bad behavior of one person does not justify bad behavior from another. (I could go into the fact that the audience member was an adoring fan, but that perspective seems so trivial given the degree of Patti's response.)
I believe Patti's inappropriate behavior far surpassed that of the audience member who snapped the photos. I walked in holding her in high regard, I left with an extremely low opinion of her. And yes, her talent is more than diminished. In my eyes, she stripped herself of all talent. It's up to Patti to create her talent again.
We live in a country where we enjoy our individual rights. Personally, I'm tired of inappropriate behavior being justified by one's 'rights' and by what our government has set as law.
(And don't get me started on that new commercial she's in.)
Monday, November 24, 2008
In Search of Me ~ il Trebbiolo
Sometime during my nineteen years in Corporate America, I laid down and drifted off to sleep. It happened so slowly and quietly that I hadn't even noticed, and it took years for me to realize I was missing. When my company announced it was offering separation packages, my goal was to be the first employee to request one. Three days after I left the company, I boarded a plane for Europe to begin my sabbatical ... in search of me. In search of the place where my very essence lay waiting to be awakened from a long and deep sleep...
My friend, Natalie Bauman, joins me for my first week, which is in Italy. As we drive from Florence into the Tuscan countryside, the beauty of the landscape overwhelms us. We look at a few tattered hotels before finding ourselves near the town of Olmo and driving down a private lane lined with the tallest cypress tress I have ever seen. Tuscan trees, as I like to call them. My tuscan trees. Even before the lovely villa comes into view, I somehow know in my heart that this is a special place for me. Was it chance, or the winds, which guided us?
il Trebbiolo Hotel, "our villa" as Nat and I prefer to call it, is breathtaking. I climb out of the car and as I stand gazing, I feel I must whisper so as not to disturb her beauty. il Trebbiolo is sun-kissed yellow and has green shutters and iron rods on the windows. There are many flowers and bushes, including what appears to be a lemon bush bearing fruit and casting a slight scent of citrus into the air. A front courtyard, with her tall trees and low stone wall, provides a shaded place to sit and enjoy the view of terraced hills, olives trees, and distant towns. Two column terraces on either side of the main entrance display tables with white linen cloths enticing us to come and dine. The courtyard floor of small pebbles announce our arrival to our hosts.
Sabrina and Roberto, our hosts, cater to us as though we are their only guests. As we dine on the most delicious fare we have ever tasted, Nat and I take in the view. Both neighbors from nearby towns and guests from surrounding hotels are patrons of the restaurant whose local chefs use their families' timeless recipes. We enjoy a carafe of local chianti, the best bruschetta I have ever enjoyed, chicken with port and almonds, and carrots with onions in balsamic vinegar. Our palates have never been so delighted! Nat and I talk for hours at our table on the terrace, finally moving to chairs beside the wall where candles cast the perfect amount of light. A hushed peacefulness abounds. This is the perfect place to breathe deeply and allow life to speak to us. The perfect place for us to absorb. We see the lights of a church on a hillside in the distance. Its bell gongs midnight. I listen hard to the late night sounds hoping to hear something that will magically guide me on my search.
There is something energizing about waking up in brisk air and sunshine! I remember spending my childhood summers in the country and waking up to the same freshness. Nat and I get an early start to our days beginning them with a delightful breakfast of yogurt and mueslix, fresh bread with prosciutto and mozzarella, and apricot tarts. And, of course, fabulous Italian cappuccino! Ahhh...Italian cappuccino. It alone is worth a trip to Italy.
We spend our days driving through the countryside to Arezzo (a small Etruscan town dating back to 4th century BC), Fiesole, and Florence. Each day we return to il Trebbiolo with time to relax before dinner. We spend the time taking a nap in the cool of the late evening, going for a run along the country roads, glancing through the many Italian books in the living room, or sitting by the wall absorbing the scenery as it looks so different with the sun in this position. The green of the rolling hills, the blue of the sky, the intense sunshine. Ahh, is it just that I'm so captivated by the beauty of Tuscany or are the colors more vibrant here? Maybe it's the peacefulness that brings so much life to the colors. I realize that the beauty of this land could heal my soul. I have found a place where I, along with time, stand still. A place where my mind and my heart meld into one allowing my soul to completely envelop me. Where my soul reaches from deep inside, wraps around my complete being, and gently folds me back into myself. I have found a special place in Tuscany, at my il Trebbiolo.
Our last night before leaving for Venice, Nat and I once again sit next to the wall, absorbing. There is something so magical about il Trebbiolo that we try to take in her serene beauty for those times when we will wish we were here. All of the stars are out tonight. The church bell strikes mezzanotte. Midnight. A small lamb is nearby and calls for its mother. So much is being said, though neither of us say a word. Natalie decides to head to our room to write in her journal. As I sit under the stars and absorb the Tuscan night one last time, I hear a faint sound coming from somewhere off in the distance. It almost sounds like someone breathing softly as they sleep...
My friend, Natalie Bauman, joins me for my first week, which is in Italy. As we drive from Florence into the Tuscan countryside, the beauty of the landscape overwhelms us. We look at a few tattered hotels before finding ourselves near the town of Olmo and driving down a private lane lined with the tallest cypress tress I have ever seen. Tuscan trees, as I like to call them. My tuscan trees. Even before the lovely villa comes into view, I somehow know in my heart that this is a special place for me. Was it chance, or the winds, which guided us?
il Trebbiolo Hotel, "our villa" as Nat and I prefer to call it, is breathtaking. I climb out of the car and as I stand gazing, I feel I must whisper so as not to disturb her beauty. il Trebbiolo is sun-kissed yellow and has green shutters and iron rods on the windows. There are many flowers and bushes, including what appears to be a lemon bush bearing fruit and casting a slight scent of citrus into the air. A front courtyard, with her tall trees and low stone wall, provides a shaded place to sit and enjoy the view of terraced hills, olives trees, and distant towns. Two column terraces on either side of the main entrance display tables with white linen cloths enticing us to come and dine. The courtyard floor of small pebbles announce our arrival to our hosts.Sabrina and Roberto, our hosts, cater to us as though we are their only guests. As we dine on the most delicious fare we have ever tasted, Nat and I take in the view. Both neighbors from nearby towns and guests from surrounding hotels are patrons of the restaurant whose local chefs use their families' timeless recipes. We enjoy a carafe of local chianti, the best bruschetta I have ever enjoyed, chicken with port and almonds, and carrots with onions in balsamic vinegar. Our palates have never been so delighted! Nat and I talk for hours at our table on the terrace, finally moving to chairs beside the wall where candles cast the perfect amount of light. A hushed peacefulness abounds. This is the perfect place to breathe deeply and allow life to speak to us. The perfect place for us to absorb. We see the lights of a church on a hillside in the distance. Its bell gongs midnight. I listen hard to the late night sounds hoping to hear something that will magically guide me on my search.
There is something energizing about waking up in brisk air and sunshine! I remember spending my childhood summers in the country and waking up to the same freshness. Nat and I get an early start to our days beginning them with a delightful breakfast of yogurt and mueslix, fresh bread with prosciutto and mozzarella, and apricot tarts. And, of course, fabulous Italian cappuccino! Ahhh...Italian cappuccino. It alone is worth a trip to Italy.
We spend our days driving through the countryside to Arezzo (a small Etruscan town dating back to 4th century BC), Fiesole, and Florence. Each day we return to il Trebbiolo with time to relax before dinner. We spend the time taking a nap in the cool of the late evening, going for a run along the country roads, glancing through the many Italian books in the living room, or sitting by the wall absorbing the scenery as it looks so different with the sun in this position. The green of the rolling hills, the blue of the sky, the intense sunshine. Ahh, is it just that I'm so captivated by the beauty of Tuscany or are the colors more vibrant here? Maybe it's the peacefulness that brings so much life to the colors. I realize that the beauty of this land could heal my soul. I have found a place where I, along with time, stand still. A place where my mind and my heart meld into one allowing my soul to completely envelop me. Where my soul reaches from deep inside, wraps around my complete being, and gently folds me back into myself. I have found a special place in Tuscany, at my il Trebbiolo.
Our last night before leaving for Venice, Nat and I once again sit next to the wall, absorbing. There is something so magical about il Trebbiolo that we try to take in her serene beauty for those times when we will wish we were here. All of the stars are out tonight. The church bell strikes mezzanotte. Midnight. A small lamb is nearby and calls for its mother. So much is being said, though neither of us say a word. Natalie decides to head to our room to write in her journal. As I sit under the stars and absorb the Tuscan night one last time, I hear a faint sound coming from somewhere off in the distance. It almost sounds like someone breathing softly as they sleep...
~ June, 2001
Monday, November 10, 2008
Character
This past week it seems as though 'character' has been at the core of many conversations across our country. Not surprising given current events ... Obama, banks, economy, jobs, 'Joe the Who?' Almost every conversation I've had over the past week has centered around the character of a person or a company whether that was the actual topic of discussion or not.
Character.
Webster says character is "the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing."
Wikipedia defines it as "an evaluation of a particular individual's moral qualities."
And I've heard that character is "the will to do what is right regardless of personal cost."
Pondering ...
... our nature.
... our moral qualities.
... our will to sacrifice for what is right.
This pondering leads me to intimacy.
Today, in our world ... globally, locally ... we all want intimacy. We crave it. We need it. Do we realize it is an innate need? Life. Others. We love our independence and, especially in this country ... especially in NYC, we love our individualism. Have we allowed that individualism to separate us from each other? And if so, then we've created the very issue we so often discuss ... the lack of intimacy in our society.
Intimacy. Character.
It seems there is a direct correlation between the degree to which we are willing to be open and authentic with others and their willingness to share themselves with us.
Whether our personal self or our self as the company we represent, when was the last time we questioned if we are about the relationship or simply getting something out of the relationship?
How does the degree of our willingness to use our moral qualities by doing the right thing, despite what it may/may not bring to us personally, impact how we conduct ourself in our daily life? impact others in our life?
Character.
Just pondering ...
Friday, October 10, 2008
Pick One
I recently had an email exchange with a friend who was questioning relationships. Dealing with modern women, and being a modern man, he said he was "tired" and wondered "if our parents' generation had it right: commit, work it out."
Our wanderings were interesting ... both in our lives as we searched for someone with whom to commit ourselves to and with the conversation at present. My response to him was...
"It seems as though not being in a relationship leaves you in a restless place. I think it's important to be good on your own before you can be good in a relationship. As difficult as alone may be, especially in this city (NYC). Your worth & your image are truly not determined by your success in business nor the woman by your side. They are determined by how you live your life and handle your relationships. Although, many don't see it that way ... and that's a trap that is more prevalent here in NYC than anywhere else.
... Your depth and analytical skills, ..., are key strengths of yours. However, as someone said to me years ago "It must serve you well in business, but it must really trip you up in your personal life." That comment has remained with me. When we are dealing with human beings, we often times need to let go of logic and reason as emotions are, more often than not, neither logical nor reasonable. So I believe you've fallen into that trap that so many of us have and that is having unrealistic expectations. Lowering our expectations does not equate to settling for less. But rather, it enables us to accept others for who they are and allows us to be more understanding of the whole person ... and see their wonderful traits.
Yes, there are so many people in this world with whom we would make a good match. But it all comes down to this ... we have to make a choice: do we want to spend our life enjoying many different people, or do we want to enjoy many aspects of life with one person? If it's the latter, then quite simply it comes down to this: of all of those people that could be good for us ... pick one. That's it. Quite simply, pick one. And then, yes, as our parents' generation did, commit and work it out. If we are people of integrity, then respect and honor (and love) will hold us to that one person and help us make the right choice when presented with others who could be exciting or good for us. Pick one, commit, be there for each other above all else.
It sounds difficult, but it's quite easy. Well, it is once we get a good understanding of who we are. Once we know ourself, we know who is & who isn't good for us, as well as who we are & aren't good for, in the long haul.
Make sense?"
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