One Person December 20 – 26, 2000 
In this holiday season, when we're urged to help the truly needy, the Texas Rangers are giving Alex Rodriguez $252 million to play baseball. 
Hearing this news, I felt the need to go see my 93-year-old friend Anna Downing. She was sitting in her usual rocking chair by the window, crocheting her third stocking cap of the day and listening to the birds. 

Wretched Excess December 13 – 19, 2000
When the last of 168 loaves of banana bread went out in the mail this morning, I couldn't tell who was happier, me or the postmaster. 
"Is that it? Are you sure? Absolutely, positively sure?"
He was peering over the counter at me through his glasses. He wasn't smiling. His own personal loaf had placated him through my first two trips to the post office, but this was my third visit, and his bread was now just a sweet memory.

Political Correctness December 6 – 12, 2000
It's the first party of the season, and we're dressed in our best bib and tucker, politely inquiring about each other's health. Then we move on to the weather -- "Oh my, isn't it cold?!" -- and compare holiday plans. We smile. We are friendly. But we are not ourselves.

Tenth Row, On The Aisle  November 29 – December 5, 2000
As a farm girl growing up in Illinois, Mary Campbell hid under the covers with the radio to listen to the late-night Big Band broadcasts from Chicago.
Saturday afternoons, she was transfixed by the Metropolitan Opera coming down the airwaves from far away New York City. Fridays, she'd be at the library, boning up on the next week's performance. 

Ouch! But Thanks Anyway November 23 – 28, 2000 
"It's always something." -- Roseanne Roseannadanna (Gilda Radner)
Okay, everybody, listen up, it's time to be grateful again. And act like you mean it.

 In Parka And Pearls November 16 – 22, 2000
My friend was 38 years old, divorced, with three children, when she decided there had to be more to life. So she piled her kids into a Buick station wagon and headed north from Chicago to Alaska.

The Women's Memorial November 9 – 15, 2000 
"It isn't just my brother's country, or my husband's country, it's my country as well. And so the war wasn't just their war, it was my war, and I needed to serve in it."

-- Beatrice Hood Stroup, Major, Women's Army Corps, World War II

Standing just inside the door of The Women's Memorial, Sheila Walsh Martin was ready to answer questions. Eager to answer questions. Champing at the bit to answer questions.

 Kids Vote November 2 – 8, 2000
Every election year we go through the same old gloom-and-doom predictions about voter turnout – and every year they turn out to be right. Maybe that's why we're getting what we deserve.

Bosom Buddy October 26 – November 1, 2000
October is breast cancer awareness month; so are the other 11.
We are aware that, every day, breast cancer claims our mothers, sisters, wives, girlfriends, grandmothers, best friends, the lady down the block. We know that, after lung cancer, it is the most common form of cancer among American women. We know that, by age 30, a woman's chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer is one out of 2,212; by age 50 it is one out of 54; by age 80, it is one out of 10.

Suffer The Little Children  October 19 – 25, 2000 
Recently – his mother and father could surely tell us how many days, how many hours, how many minutes ago -- Mohammed al-Durra became a statistic in what somber diplomats and politicians call the Arab-Israeli conflict, and what real people call the Middle East madness.

Baby Talk October 12 – 18, 2000 
The baby behind me on the airplane cried all the way across America. In our heads, many of us reacted like typical travelers: "Oh Lordy, can't that mother shut that kid up?!"   

 Me And Bruce October 5 – 11, 2000 
I'm giving up Bruce Springsteen

More precisely, I'm giving up the idea that some day, somehow, somewhere I will sing backup for Bruce Springsteen. This outlandish notion has roots so deep I can't remember when I didn't accept it as inevitable, just as I knew I would make a million dollars, spend a year in France and wear a size 10 Donna Karan cashmere wrap.

A Bully By Any Other Name September 28 – October 4, 2000  
Winning.

It's at the heart of sport. All those wonderful Olympians we've been watching on television the last two weeks got to Sydney because they're winners. Bobby Knight knows how to create winners. That's why the recent dismissal of the Indiana University basketball coach for a "pattern of unacceptable behavior" continues to resonate in our national conversation.

You Are Special Today September 20 – 27, 2000 
Long after I was an adult my mother gave me a red ceramic dinner plate decorated with white flowers and the words "You Are Special Today" on the rim.
  

Ask And You Shall Receive September 13 – 19, 2000
From the time we're able, we're urged to ask for what we want. "Ask nice," say our mothers and fathers, "and don't forget to say 'please' and 'thank you.'" They make it sound so simple. Even the Bible promises, "Ask, and you shall receive."

It's The Kiss, Stupid  September 6 – 12, 2000 
Al Gore seems astonished he's caught up with George Bush in the polls. What, he wonders, has galvanized undecided voters to put him into a dead heat with his previously front-running rival? His stand on Social Security? His position on Roe vs. Wade? His new casual clothes?

So Long Summer August 30 – September 5, 2000  
The newspaper tells us there are weighty matters abroad in the land. The presidential race is in full voice, Russia is mourning its submariners, earthquakes are rattling Tokyo. It's a yo-yo stock market. Bill Clinton is being investigated by yet another grand jury. The British plan to ease their ban on human cloning. And on TV, the whole west look afire.   

 Across The Great Divide  August 23 – 29,  2000 
All brides are beautiful, even from half a mile away. 
We couldn't hear the words being said as we watched you exchange rings and embrace your new husband, but even through binoculars we shared your joy. We'd been saddened not to be included in the small circle in the meadow. It hurt to open the envelope and see "reception" instead of "wedding" on the invitation. Perhaps we were excluded because we were white, perhaps because we were not family. No matter.  

Near Miss August 11 – 17, 2000 
Author Peter Matthiessen says "never phone home" because there's always some crisis that will either solve itself while you're gone or wait for you to get back, so why spoil your trip when you're too far away to fix it?

First Name Basis August 9 – 15, 2000 
My husband has fired the phone company. Not one of those weird ones that don't let you use your credit card in one-light-bulb hotel rooms in Idaho, but the REAL phone company. The one he signed up with in 1961.The "reach out and touch someone" one.       

A Turkey In Each Hand August 4 – 10, 2000 
 "John, I'm in the river."
The sky is a mottled gray, with patches of robin's egg blue on the horizon, black boiling clouds nearby. The water is the color of slate with a hint of rust on boulders and moss rocks deceptively close to the surface. The current is swift, even in high summer, and there are deep pools where I know fat, opportunistic brown trout laze, waiting for food to float by.

Child's Play  July 28 – August 3, 2000 
 It's summer. Parental exhibition season. Soccer moms, baseball dads, Wimbledon exhibitionists in the family box -- and in Lynnfield, Mass., a funeral for one hockey father who died after a fight with another.

Precious In Our Sight July 21 – 27, 2000 
All of us have friends we don't see very often but hold close to us, think about, consider dear even if we only exchange hurried Christmas cards and a couple of phone calls. 

   Hal, Dave And The VCR  July 14 – 20,  2000 
We know we're at the mercy of our machines. We never think about it when they're working, but once in a while we feel what the astronaut Dave felt when confronted by HAL, the rogue computer in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey. HAL went haywire and took over his human operators' lives. Arthur C. Clarke, who co-wrote the screenplay with director Stanley Kubrick, even had the deviant computer knocking off Dave's fellow astronauts "for the good of the mission."   

Get Out Of Dodge  July 7 – 13,  2000 
Used to be, when high summer came along, my folks would announce "it's time get out of Dodge" and pile us into the station wagon with a few beat-up old Samsonites, some rickety lawn chairs and a leaky cooler. We'd hit the road without a backward glance.

Auntie, Take A Bow June 30 – July 6, 2000
The small woman with the fogged-up glasses was struggling to regain her composure. Come on, Auntie, you can do it. This is your big day.
Finally, her voice ragged with tears, she spoke:

Stick To It-Ness June 23 – 29, 2000 
How does a couple stay together 50 years? 
Very carefully.
Like the song says, "you've got to give a little, take a little…" Marriages that last are one long, careful negotiation. I had a friend who got out of hers because, she said, she was "just tired of compromising."

Sons and Daughters in Touch  June 16 – 22, 2000 
If you don't have a dad, Father's Day comes too often and lasts too long. 
Most of us without our fathers were once lucky enough to have them. We cherish good memories and make peace with the bad ones. We have shelves of photo albums full of their pictures, we live daily lives by the moral code they passed on to us through osmosis. Even if our fathers died before they could see our first-borns, we don't feel so cheated because they watched us graduate, danced at our wedding, got to tell us goodbye.    

Home Again, Home Again  June 9 – 15, 2000 
The little red pickup was once a constant in our lives, always ahead or behind us on the road, making us smile as a pack of teenagers stuffed into the cab and lounging in the truck bed waved gaily as they commuted to school.

  Workin' Man June 2 – 8,  2000 
It starts with a vision, a scrap of paper, a crude sketch. Details are hazy but concepts are clear. I'm a little money ahead and I want to create something. "Come over for coffee," I say to my carpenter friend on the phone. He always does.

The View From Arlington  May 26 – June 1, 2000 
"Taps" drifts on the breeze at Arlington National Cemetery this Memorial holiday, as it does most days, while thousands of tourists look for the graves of President John F. Kennedy, his brother Robert and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Mr. And Ms. Boor, I Presume? May 19 – 25, 2000
Sunday was lazy. We sipped coffee, cooked a real breakfast, read the paper. We were savoring birdsong when an alien sound intruded at 8:38 a.m. 
"Hey y'all, anybody home? Anybody in there?" The question, bellowed in an accent as thick as cold molasses, arrived in an unknown voice.

Are You In There, Mom?  May 12 – 18, 2000
When we were six, Mom treasured our crayon drawings proudly wrapped up for Mother's day. When we were teenagers, she was thrilled when we served her cold cereal in bed before we dashed off to the Mall. Now – all grown up, with kids and lives of our own -- we observe the holiday with e-commerce flowers and long-distance calls or, if we're nearby, a corsage and a nice restaurant meal. We give her a new toaster or practical bedroom slippers, let her keep the bow and get her back home in time for the evening news.

Oath Of Allegiance   May 5 – 11, 2000
It took my 75-year-old newly-naturalized friend from France to clarify for me the saga of the little boy from Havana and the United States Constitution.

Fini Bye Bye  April 28 – May 4, 2000
25^th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War

Women hate to say goodbye.

They repeat instructions to their children – "eat all your vegetables, brush your teeth, don't lock the sitter in the closet." They lecture their men – "that's a terrible tie, why are you wearing that tie? shouldn't you change that tie?" Women especially don't like to let go of each other. So they interrogate.

Intimate Knowledge April 21 – 27,  2000
We never really know another person.

Oh sure, we think we do. We steer clear of the special chair they always fall asleep in, keep the radio tuned to their classical station and wear blue because it's their favorite color. We give them paperback thrillers because they always read them. We invite familiar dinner guests because we're sure they'll enjoy them. We tell the waiter "heavens no!" when he recommends an escargot appetizer because the ever-predictable latecomer "never touches those things."

Nut Case  April 14 – 20, 2000
Nobody actually needs five pounds of fancy mixed nuts. Or four pounds of salted pretzels. Or six gallon-bottles of $7 Merlot. Or a block of Swiss cheese as big as Rhode island.

Gimme Shelter  April 7 – 13, 2000
Mesmerized in front of the television on New Year's Eve, I was struck by the universality of the human race. It's one thing to hear it said in speeches at the United Nations; it's quite another to sit in your own living room and witness it in each country's and culture's welcome of the new millennium.

The Kibitzers  March 31 – April 6, 2000
They arrive when I'm stuck for a verb, carried away with my own purple prose, struggling to figure out what I really want to say. They hover above me and kibitz:

The Wild Bunch   March 24 – 30, 2000
Shifting from one foot to the other at the ironing board, I spot them in the distance and stare so long I scorch a collar. Drinking coffee on the porch, I spill it on myself when they suddenly leap in front of me. Waking up in the night, I hear them singing and marvel at my luck.

Help Save Your Own Life March 17 – 23, 2000
Say the word "internet" and everybody's an expert : "greatest thing since sliced bread," "purveyor of pornography," "the reason marriages break up," "best educational tool since Gutenberg invented moveable type."

Millionare Wannabes March 10 – 16,  2000
It's hard to remember when Regis Philbin wasn't in our living room.

"Are we eating at the table tonight?"

"Heck no, 'Millionaire' is on. Get out the TV trays."

This conversation is repeated -- uh hum - millions of times on Sunday nights, Tuesday nights, Wednesday nights, Thursday nights and Friday nights during this "sweeps" period. Regis is with us in the living room so often I feel like I ought to give him a plate of food, too. And that's not even counting his mornings with Kathi Lee.

Generous Spirits March 3 – 9, 2000
There are two kinds of people in this world; those who are generous of spirit and those who aren't. You can't tell which is which by the money they have, or their education or good manners. You'll never recognize them by the kind of car they drive, the grammar they use or the clothes they wear.

DŽjˆ Vu All Over Again Febuary 25 – March 2, 2000
Mesmerized in front of the television on New Year's Eve, I was struck by the universality of the human race. It's one thing to hear it said in speeches at the United Nations; it's quite another to sit in your own living room and witness it in each country's and culture's welcome of the new millennium.

Seed Money February 18 – 24, 2000
This is the season when the earth is dreaming.

Gardeners, meanwhile, fret and fidget without their Digitalis mertonensis, Verbena 'Homestead Purple' and ever-faithful Gaillardia x grandiflora 'Goblin.' Deprived of the Merton foxglove, Homestead purple verbena and Goblin blanket flower – and just plain old daisies and nasturtiums on the window sill -- we try to hold in check our impatience for spring by pouring over new seed catalogs.

Love's Labour's (NEVER) Lost February 11 – 17, 2000
If we're lucky, and we work at it, love is the enduring constant in our lives. From infancy, when we are cradled in loving arms, 'til death, when we are, hopefully, also cradled in loving arms, we have the chance to love a thousand times – parents, siblings, extended family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, lovers, mates, children, grandchildren.

Cash in the Trash February 4 – 10, 2000
Just when I was starting to feel noble and self-righteous about composting coffee grounds and ironing wrinkled Christmas wrap, along comes Washington millionaire Walt Anderson to one-upsmanship the world in recycling.

A Lifetime Job January 28 – February 3, 2000
Thirty of golf's best players were on the course but the madding crowd wanted to watch just one. Pushing and shoving, elbowing and jostling, thousands of spectators jockeyed to see Tiger Woods shoot his way to a fifth consecutive PGA win.

Work Force January 21 – 27, 2000
The customer stared at the fruit vendor as she counted out his change. Accepting the coins and his bag of bananas and oranges, he seemed on the verge of asking something. Then he abruptly walked away.

Lame Duck January 14 – 20, 2000
The television set was on and Bill Clinton was speaking. And then he wasn't. Somebody had hit the mute button.

The Little Boy in the Middle January 7 – 13, 2000
Your mother tells you you're going to the Promised Land, so you get into a little boat with her and 10 other people and start out across the ocean;

The Millennium December 31, 1999 – January 6, 2000
Set aside all the hype and hoopla, the prophesies of doom and the fiddling-while-Rome-burns predictions, and we are left with a rising sun on yet another day of living as the Christian world marks the dawning of the year 2000.

© Copyright 2000 The Women Syndicate. The content on these pages is the property of The Women Syndicate and may not be used without express permission. Contact friends@tadbartimus.com

Last Revision:
Monday, August 5, 2002 09:20 AM