Another Step on the Path

Hmmm. 

Philip and I "legalized" our partnership this year. 

So, I suppose that 2013 will always have special meaning in our lives. Though we never felt the need to "legitimize" or "sanctify" our relationship, it became clear that the world in which we live is in flux and so must we be. We are living in a whirlwind of change and we must accommodate and assimilate the changes, whether or not we are necessarily comfortable with them. That's life!

Life often forces us into a values conflict. Do we choose to stand on our beliefs? Do we choose expediency? Do we compromise, rationalize, harmonize and somehow accomplish both?

While 2013 will undoubtedly retain significance for Philip and me, is all that has passed since 1986 relegated to insignificance? Much of who and what we are together was defined in the interim, without legitimization, without sanctification.

"When you come to a fork in the road; take it." - Yogi Berra

It's just one more step on the path....

"Strive to be happy."  DESIDERATA - Max EHRMANN

A Magical Reunion

25+ years ago, magic happened!

In 1986, Continental Airlines opened a satellite of the Los Angeles Flight Attendant base in Honolulu and an eclectic mix of 300 or so  seniorities, agendas, personalities and motivations headed to the Pacific to nest.  We were a VERY diverse group on every level but, together, we coalesced into something greater than the sum of its parts.

Our pay was notoriously awful.  At times, what little we were supposed to get was delayed on the "pony express" from HQ and the rabble gathered at Honolulu ticket counter in protest (it made local news)!  To supplement our meager pay, we received a $300 cost of living allowance which, after taxes, was a little less than $150 a month.

Our flying was a mixed bag:  day turns to the Mainland and Vancouver, 3 & 4 day trips "down under", "Guam bomb" 14-hour 3days, and the infamous 8 and 11 day 38 flight hour trips to Tahiti or Paris (no duty rigs to offset the lack of productivity).  There was something for everybody and we all quickly found our niche.  Of course, niches were usually determined by seniority and a new person to the base could be quickly seniority-stratified by what trips s/he held.

Our operation was directed from our Texas-based headquarters by a cadre of individuals who had little experience with an international operation (most were survivors of the Continental/Texas Intl merger which saw many of the former Continental folk depart when HQ moved from Los Angeles to Houston).  One of our DC10-30s lost an engine to a birdstrike departing Aukland one day.  It survived the incident due to a masterfully executed air return to Aukland.  The crew, stranded with the disabled aircraft, were incredulous to learn that the "powers that be" instructed that a spare engine be TRUCKED over from SYD!  Apparently, those powers had not yet consulted a world map when that decision was made!  Geographic knowledge can be so important when directing a worldwide operation:  the Tasman Sea is a formidable obstacle to a truck.

Our living conditions were seldom what one would consider optimal.  Often, as many as 7 (or more) of us would crowd into one small apartment...and most were NOT commuters.  It was helpful if roomies shared flying preferences to stay on the same side of clock.

While we weren't a particularly religious group, we always attended services.  Whether it was "sunrise services" on Tumon Bay in Guam or "midnight mass" at HULA'S, you could be sure that a reliable, substantial contingent of CO "hostesses" would represent.

We had our stars and more than our fair share of BIG personalities!  Rocco Piganelli, for example, was a regular in our ads on Australian television, usually surrounded by a bevy of lovelies as he steered his vintage white Cadillac convertible down Kalakaua Avenue, full of youthful swagger (he flies for Southwest these days, astoundingly still full of youthful swagger).  Several of our comrades-at-arms were prominently placed in the feature film NORTH SHORE.

We had our own NOTORIOUS news journal, COUNTRY CLUB CHATTER.  There was much debate about its authors and editors but NO DEBATE about its cutting edge, biting commentary and editorials!  COUNTRY CLUB CHATTER will live in infamy (especially at HQ whose residents took more than a few of its "best shots") along with equally renowned publications like BETTER GALLEYS AND GIRT BARS (IAD, I believe.)

Romances, entire love lifes, were born and died during the 7-8 year run of the Continental HNL base.  Some survived in the aftermath.  Many withered as quickly as they bloomed, as ephemeral as a hibiscus blossom.

Proportionately, we suffered more than our fair share of loss during the HNL days.  AIDS, in particular, took many of our shining stars and we will always remember the JOY they brought to our lives with a smile and a tear.  It simply would not have been the same without them!

But friendships, antipathies, and, most of all, GREAT MEMORIES linger still, in tribute to a truly magical time in the lives of most who were there!

We were the "Proud Bird of the Pacific", happy in the knowledge that, when all else went awry in the Continetnal world (and practically everything did), the Pacific operation was our breadwinner.  (Well, it was until one day in August 1993 when the discovery was made that, due to accounting errors, the Pacific wasn't as profitable as thought and the decision was made that HNL would close at the end of October!)

At Christmas 2013, 5 alumni of Continental's HNL base joined for breakfast at a round table in Amsterdam, none with pre-knowledge or thought as to how momentous yet mundane an event it was.  In retrospect, our time together in HNL was just as fleeting as that breakfast was in Amsterdam.

But it was oh-so-special!  Savor every moment life brings you...

(L to R:  Tony Reece, Chris Schaeffer, Roxanne Hoye, Philip Sanchez, & Salvador Morales in B zone, B777-200ER)

Annette Clayton and Philip Sanchez in A zone, B747-200

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time...

Everyone seems to know something about "Reserve" Flight Attendants:  they are the ones that sit around, waiting for the phone to ring, in hopes that Scheduling will have something warm and exotic in mind when they call.  Alas, as is so often the case, "real life" reserve is not quite so glamorous.  The Reserves at what was until recently the world's largest commercial airline will quickly set anyone straight who might have "visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads"!

In social media, reserves spend a fair amount of time lamenting their lot and chastising those of us (lineholders:  those who bid and hold a set schedule for the month) who take advantage of the loopholes in our contract that affect them the most detrimentally.  "Bumping", "rolling days", "airport alert", "vacation days", "out of base trades", etc. are ALL at the top of the Reserve's "naughty" list.  All are allowed and/or enforced under the terms of our Flight Attendant contract, yet all seem to benefit ONLY the lineholders.  So, Reserves can be understandably testy and upset when the seniority progression that moves each of us  "up the ladder" slows or stops, inexorably trapping them on reserve status for years and years.

When I came to work in the mid-80s, I sat reserve for NOT QUITE 2 weeks before being awarded a "move-up line" (a set schedule.)  Shortly after, I qualified as a Spanish and French speaker and have been "holding a line" (set schedule) ever since!  (For clarity's sake, Reserves in the Houston International base have as many as 17 years seniority and are STILL on reserve.)

I think it's difficult, if not impossible, for someone with such limited and dated experience to fully comprehend what life for a reserve in 2013-2014 is like.  (For example, when I came to work, our schedules were kept on a sheet of paper, updated with a pencil and an eraser.  Even then, things could get complex and entire crews were occasionally "lost"!)  I want to understand.  I want to experience firsthand some of the things that I read about that impact my flying colleagues who languish on reserve for years at a time.

And, it's CHRISTMAS!

So, I'm taking the plunge!  Tonight (Christmas Eve), I will be randomly drawing the employee number of a Reserve from my base who has indicated that they would like the opportunity to sample life as a 30-year lineholder.  For the month of February 2014, that person and I will "trade lines"; effectively, I will work his/her reserve schedule and s/he will work my "hard line" schedule.  The level of control that s/he will have for that month will no doubt seem as alien to him/her as the lack of control I will have will seem to me!  (My palms start to sweat whenever I think about it..)  But I have the strong sense that it's the right thing to do.  These people are truly the backbone of the inflight operation.  They endure so much uncertainty and decision making on a whim throughout the year/s.  It's only right that those of us who have it so good give a little something back...if only for one month.  (It also DRAMATICALLY increases their money-making potential.)

So, if you're looking for me during the month of February, you won't have to look very hard.  I'll be tethered to my telephone, dreaming of something warm and exotic, thinking how it sure SEEMED like a good idea!

As of 0854 on Christmas Eve...

And the winner is...

A "Canton Christmas"

Unexpected sensory experiences can be disarmingly evocative! 

This morning, while scrolling through the morning's posts on Facebook, I was stopped in my tracks by a familiar black and white image.  The image was a photograph of my hometown of Canton, Georgia taken at a time when Christmas would have been especially meaningful to me, the mid-1960s.  (I was likely 5 or 6 years old when the photo was snapped.)

A random but familiar photo, like a familiar smell or sound, can rocket you back in time to a place, a moment, a feeling.  And so this one did me.  Although the lack of color doesn't deliver the complexity of the image, in my mind I see the silver of the tinsel, the red and green of the stranded lights, the warm, yellowish hue of the lit star (not that GARISH blue-white light that is becoming so uncomfortably common today.)  But it isn't what's going on in my mind that is so meaningful about this photo.  You'll have to move a little lower for that!

The image in this photo resides in my heart.  When I see it, I shiver from the cold, I smell the Christmas tree, I taste Mom's hot chocolate, I see the decorations over the street and, more than anything else, I feel loved the way only a child can feel loved.  It's a warm, life-affirming feeling and such a special memory!

My wish for all who read this is that you have something, a photo, a smell, a taste, a sound, that triggers your own memory of a "Canton Christmas". 

Merry Christmas!

Looking for the Good

So, a funny thing happened on the way from Amsterdam to Houston...

After posting my admonition yesterday (I regularly post in a social media group of my airline peers) about finding and focusing on the quiet, content, "majority" customers in your workday rather than those who tend to monopolize your time and attention for all the wrong reasons, I had the chance to practice what I preach.  As predicted, flight 59 was a "full boat", somewhat complicated by a 777 aircraft with an inoperative lavatory and myriad electrical issues including uncontrollable cabin lights (undimmable) in A zone and ZERO galley power (no ovens, coffeemakers, worklights, chillers, etc.) in the economy galley at the start.  Our British Airways maintenance guy resolved the galley power issues amazingly quickly, hardly impacting our departure time.  All else was left to sort out using highly seasoned service skills!

All the usual culprits were present and accounted for; many made their presence known during boarding.  Many more "rose to the surface" during the meal delivery:

Me to 20DEF: "Would you prefer chicken with rice, beef with potatoes or the vegetarian option?"  20F to me, very sarcastically:  "I ordered the vegetarian, NOT chicken!"  Me to 20F:  "Look again.  Your meal is chickpea masala with lentils."  20F to me:  "Hmm." (accompanied by a face that would curdle cream).

21L to my friend and colleague Salvador M. (you should ALL have the pleasure of working with Salvador some day!):  "My video is STILL not working."  Savaldor to 21L:  "I'm sorry.  After you brought it to my attention during the first beverage service, I called to have your seat reset.  Let me get our Service Manager involved."  According to Salvador, his repeated earnest attempts to resolve were met with an impassive glare.

Of course, there were many more "for instances" but I'll bet you GET THE PICTURE!

After service completion, Salvador mentioned to me that he had tried to do what I proposed in yesterday's post:  find the "good ones" and focus on them.  As we discussed my premise, I asked if he noticed the grandmother and granddaughter in 41JK, for example?

As I passed with the meal cart, the granddaughter was crocheting and the two of them were DEEP in conversation, enthralled in each other's company.  It was astonishing!  When's the last time you saw a 10-11 year old girl prefer conversation with her grandmother to an iPad or "gameboy"?  And she was crocheting while they spoke!  The only break in their tete-a-tete was to smile and respond politely when I asked what they preferred to eat.

The gentleman in 43F was EXCEEDINGLY polite and pleasant in even the smallest exchange.  Eye contact, smiles, "yes, please", "no, thank you", he was truly an old-school human.

Two more highlights of my trip appeared during the final 2 hours of the 10+ hour flight.  While I was preparing for the pre-landing snack service (I was aft galley), an older lady appeared at the area by Door 4L with her AAdvantage credit card in hand.  "Excuse me.  I'm sorry to bother you.  Will wine be offered with our dinner?"  I looked up to the smiling, earnest face of someone who cares about her appearance and cares about the impression she makes on others.  "Yes, we will offer a full beverage service along with a hot sandwich before landing."  (If I'm being honest, I was hoping to dismiss her so that I could finish my task.  I get that way sometimes).  But there was just something about her....."But if you'd like some wine now, I'd be happy to get it for you."  "Oh no, I don't want to bother you.  I can wait."  And she meant it.

I insisted.  And when I handed her the white wine, she offered her credit card.  I don't know what it was about her.  She just EPITOMIZED what I'd been pontificating about.  I hadn't even noticed her during the meal service and I am the one who served her!  "Oh no, please take this one with the compliments of the airline.  Merry Christmas!"

Well, that one exchange unleashed a WAVE of positive energy!

When we offered the sandwiches before landing, my new friend in 21C introduced me to her "roommate" in 21D who, she said, had been a "Stewardess" for Braniff in 1952.  What an elegant lady she appeared to be!  She reminded me of a retired colleague who I had much admired in Honolulu, Donna Hamilton.  Beautiful, lithe, elegant-of-movement, well put together and she was oh so charming!  I asked if they would accept a bottle of champagne to help celebrate their holiday together and, well, you can just imagine how that went...

As we were collecting the snack boxes in preparation for landing, I was on the opposite side of the cabin.  When I arrived at the row 41 area, I noticed that my crocheting granddaughter was now absorbed in a movie and that her grandmother was playing Candy Crush on an iPad!  What irony!  As I collected, I asked the granddaughter what she was crocheting.  In very halting English, she said, "a blanket".  The grandmother looked up BEAMING.  I asked, "who taught you to crochet?"  Without hesitation, the grandmother said proudly, "I learned her."  I replied, "when I was about your age, my grandmother and her sister taught me how to crochet.  It takes a lot of skill and patience."  She said, "I make blanket for my puppy."  Who knows if they fully understood me but I mentioned that I had noticed them in conversation earlier and that it made me happy to see them so happy.  I think they got it!  As I started to walk away, the little girl smiled and said, "Merry Christmas".

Roxanne H., Salvador M., Michael H., Amy W., Philip S. and I were together in Economy yesterday AMS/IAH.  It was a full boat with all the usual obstacles; a long and tiring day.  I don't know about the rest of them but if you ask me what I remember about the experience, you'll get a quick response...

"Merry Christmas!", plain and simple.

What Does One Give the GRINCH Who Has Everything?

It's the time of year when those who celebrate Christmas are in the throes of their holiday gift shopping.  Of course, for some, that process started the day after Christmas, last year (not me).  But gift-giving brings a whole new set of anxieties to an otherwise anxiety-prone society.  As the years pass, we are haunted by the gifting gaffs and triumphs of Christmas past and, more immediately, the gifting stress of Christmas future.  Discounting those who have a fully stocked re-gifting closet, everybody else faces the recurring question of "what to buy?".

This year, I have spent less time on my actual gift buying needs and more time focused on something a little less concrete.

"What does one give the "GRINCH" who has EVERYTHING?!"

I think you know who I'm talking about:  s/he's the chronic contrarian who can find the dark cloud to hide every rainbow, the one who has 5 negative points for each of your positives, the one whose glass is always half empty (when s/he can find the glass), the person who has a pin at the ready to pop every balloon, whose life seems to have been shafted in every conceivable way!  As a child, I remember dreading Dr. Seuss's "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" every year because it frightened me, the same way that the flying monkeys did from "The Wizard of Oz".  Perhaps I had a premonition that, aside from being green, grinches really exist!  How was I to know that they would proliferate as I got older?

So now, at Christmastime 2013, I'm left asking myself, "where does this grinch find his/her joy?"  What could one possibly do, say or GIFT a GRINCH that would make him/her "happy"?  I feel that I'm a pretty transparent person.  My agenda is "out and proud" for all to see and make of what they will.  Undoubtedly, it wrankles some.  But at Christmastime, that agenda combined with an analytical nature is pressing.  My question wants an answer.

Perhaps we should take a page from children's literature?  In the world of Dr. Seuss, the indomitable spirit of the Whos saved Christmas when all its trappings, all its outward vestiges were stolen by the Grinch.  As a result, the Grinch's heart grew and grew and grew.

If only it were that easy...

WELCOME CHRISTMAS!  (the cast of GLEE)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2l1cfmhjSGo

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 30, 2013

Well, it's the last day of the month, the theoretical end of my "Season of Gratitude". As you might have guessed by now, it's only the theoretical end because my season of gratitude is endless. On Thanksgiving, I read a post from a work colleague who said that the ONLY thing he could find to be thankful for this year was that he was still alive. I couldn't feel more differently. For me, it was a challenge to find the just one thing with which to end my month.

But the one thing could only be ONE thing, of course. I am most grateful that I have a balancing, perfectly opposing, centering center of my universe, my partner, Philip. When I previously described my parents' relationship as a yin-yang, I couldn't help but compare my own to that universal symbol of balance: opposite in so many ways, yet synchronized in the most critical. In my view, yin-yang can also symbolize the many ironies of life, especially my life which seems particularly irony-prone. A favorite phrase of Philip's epitomizes just how different he and I can be, "Do you ALWAYS have to look at the bright side?" Uh, yes.

At the time that Philip and I met, via the introduction of a dear friend, I was skeptical. Philip was so very different from anyone I had ever considered a suitable match for myself, we are opposites on so many levels. Then, I realized, "Tony, you haven't been doing such a great job on your own. Why not consider a situation that someone who knows you well thinks ideal." The first 24 hours after our meeting have turned out to be that critical turning point where both our lives veered onto a totally different path! It was a whimsical, audacious, frightening thing to do, so outside our comfort zones. I shake my head when I think about how such an unlikely union has coalesced into something so much greater than the sum of its parts.

Together, Philip and I have forged a radically unremarkable life together, seeking neither recognition nor a traditional form of validation. Now, ironically, our society seems to be on the cusp of rendering such recognition and validation the law of the land. I'm happy for those who yearn for such but it's positively anti-climactic for Philip and me, a non-issue. We have defined who we are together without the traditional sanctions afforded most. Our partnership is held to a higher standard.

How different things might have been if Philip and I had not joined to walk life's path together. The thought is really a little anxiety-provoking! (That's quite an admission from someone who professes to be practically anxiety-less.) A very wise aunt once said, when answering a question about how to be happy while living to be well into her 90s, "Everything in moderation." It's a lesson I've applied over and over when options abound. I've modified her declaration just a bit from my own experience, "Everything in moderation; maintain balance."

Philip Peter Sanchez is my True North, as well as my south, east and west. For me, the Sun both rises and sets in him; he makes the day brighter and the night more peaceful. He is the perfect seasoning for the perfect season. I live in gratitude that, against all odds, he seems to feel likewise about me.

Whatever our future holds, we will face it together, in purposeful if imperfect balance "until death us do part."

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 29, 2013

In the year since my father died, actually it started a few months prior, I seem to have found "my voice". I believe that I now fully understand what Joan Didion meant by the title of her book, "THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING."

I have come to realize that fear is one of the great forces at work in all of us; principally, the fear of loss. Whether its a position of power or prestige, wealth, a life of comfort or luxury, divorce, estrangement from a loved one, job loss or death, the ultimate loss, we all seem to suffer from the anxiety and stress that our fear of loss instills. It is certainly one of the primary motivators in humanity.

So what does that have to do with Tony "finding his voice", one might ask? To me, the two phenomena, both results of my own journey, are inextricably related. In facing my Dad's mortality so intimately, so forthrightly, I have unlocked a power in my own life that could help others and I am compelled to share.

When someone close to us is dying, our natural response is to deny, deny, deny! After all, how could a man who had been present in every moment of my 52 years of life suddenly not be? It just seemed/seems so impossible. But, not only is it possible, it is guaranteed!

Rather than to pretend that Dad's death wasn't coming, I forced my self to think, "soon he will be gone. What can I do TODAY that will ease his departure, help HIM to come to grips with what must be even more terrible than it is to me?" I admit that, in the beginning, it was horrible, gut-wrenching. It felt as though I was WISHING him dead, expediting his demise. But it became easier as we progressed down the 3-year road from diagnosis to death.

By encouraging Dad to face the ultimate transition that we all MUST face, I think it helped both of us, and likely those around us, to cope. By facing the ultimate fear head-on, we may not conquer it but we put it in its proper place: death is the NORMAL by-product of life. By doing so, by removing it from the forefront of every exchange, every moment together, we allow all the good, soothing things that are in the background to come forward: frankness, denouement, relief, acceptance, and, most of all, LOVE.

For how can you love someone and not want to do all in your power to help them face their fear of loss in any way possible?

I encourage you to face your fears honestly, frankly, head-on. Discuss them with those close to you in a way that eases your own mind, and theirs, as a consequence. Avoid those who amplify your fears and don't seek to help you find calm. Ratchet down the self-imposed stress and anxiety with your own force of will. Focus on the things in life that you can control and bring you happiness. You have the proper tools to control this one debilitating aspect of life...

Just do it!

I can only speak from my own experience. But that experience has been life-altering! I still have the same fears as I did before. I just see them and treat them differently. What I can conquer, I conquer. What I can't, I can't. But the self-defeating side-effects of fear, I have put into their proper place by facing them head on.

One of our MANY great leaders put it succinctly in a turn of phrase that has come to seem trite but is as true in my life as it ever has been in any other:

"We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

As for finding my voice, I don't know how long it will last (I'm frankly surprised that it's gone on this long). But I suppose it will go on until I'm done! Some people cry in their grief. Others lash out or retreat into themselves. I write.

I am grateful to have found a medium and an audience where my voice is heard. Thank you.

Fear is always the enemy!

Merry Christmas, Dad!

Love Lights A Tree
American Cancer Society
Canton, GA
November 29, 2013

Thanks for the photo Jennifer Reece Kemp!

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 28, 2013 *THANKSGIVING*

For food in a world where many walk in hunger;

For faith in a world where many walk in fear;

For friends in a world where many walk alone;

We give you thanks, O Lord. 

Happy Thanksgiving

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 27, 2013

A kiwi is a flightless bird from New Zealand. My friend Chris Valkoff, an expatriate New Zealander and fellow Flight Attendant, has never been more a Kiwi than he is now.

Chris suffered a heart attack while on a layover in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil earlier this week and is currently confined to hospital there under observation. It was a tense, eye-opening few days for those of us who know and love Chris until he posted yesterday that he was on the mend. A significant coronary artery was very nearly completely blocked and had to be stinted on an emergent basis. Chris has had coronary issues before but I think we'd all been lulled into believing that they were under control. At any rate, the tone and lightheartedness of his "I'm back..." post thinly veiled the gravity of the situation.

That post was such a relief and was typical Chris. I have known him for substantially all of the 30 years of my employment and have never met a more consistent character. He's gone a little grey, but remains the often brash, smiling, happy, eager-to-please, easy-to-love, "where's the party?", mate from down the block, rubgy-playing, lover of all things NZ family man that he's always been. My partner Philip put it succinctly, "Chris is the REAL DEAL!" The trivial fact that such a character could also be mortal never occurred to me, I guess. Well, Chris, you have my attention!

It seems out of fashion to be really passionate about something these days. It is almost de rigueur to be cool, aloof, and uninvested; sort of makes you mysterious, I guess. Well, Chris is definitely from a different age! Our former employer, Continental Airlines, became Chris' home-away-from home of sorts. When he left his family in New Zealand, he formed new familial roots with us, his colleagues, and we with him. Chris is our "brother from another mother" and no blood kin was ever more true!

http://calmemories.com/

This past August, Chris revealed his depth of affection for Continental and for us, his CO siblings, with a gala night that he organized to recognize our "spiritual leader" and friend, Gordon Bethune (photos are contained in an album on this page). While the evening was ostensibly to recognize Gordon, it veritably exuded Chris' feeling for his 30,000+ "family" members and was very much a quasi-family reunion. The event was magical for me and others have said the same: not because of opulence or extravagance, or high-tech audio-visuals but because of HEART.

How can a heart that big, that wide-open, that fierce ever be in peril? It just can't be possible....

but it is.

I learned a valuable lesson as a result of my Dad's decline and death, last year. Don't wait! When someone is important to you, tell them so. Share the joy of letting them know that they have made a difference in your life, in the lives of many, just by being there. So...

Chris Valkoff, the "land of the long white cloud" may have produced you but you are ours, all ours. The love and friendship that you have shared with us over the years is a precious gift. I hope that we somehow reciprocate.

For the life of a flightless bird named, Chris, I live in gratitude! (Thank you, God for one more precious blessing!)

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 26, 2013

I'm thankful that we arrived safely in Pensacola after a day of driving in horrific weather. When we woke this morning, safe, warm and dry in the home of Philip's sister, the rain was pouring down still. 

Especially at the holidays, there's something about just being near those who are important in your life. It makes the humbug worthwhile. 

Funny isn't it? Whether it's in spite of bad weather, bad feelings, bad behavior or bad intentions...

Every year we come back for more!



A contribution from my friend and Maine neighbor, Kathleen Getchas Falato:

"Improves the view -- dont'cha think, Tony Reece and Jo An Reece? The colors are perfect for the new kitchen, and I love that it once graced your cozy cabin. (Don't mind the curious cat - he's bored because he can't go out and play.)"

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 25, 2013

Of the 80,000 or so employees at my airline-employer, approximately 25,000 are Flight Attendants, including me. While the mega-merger that created this airline behemoth is "all over but the shoutin' " in the eyes of the public, my workgroup is fractured. The Flight Attendants of the three legacy carriers that form our "new" airline are working under the three separate contracts that each group brought to this venture: three VERY different contracts epitomizing three VERY different approaches to the same job. As a result, the complexity of the newly merged company's operations is unnecessarily exacerbated.

In an effort to balance the "supply" of flying with the "demand" of our customers, a variety of solutions has been employed and a general scramble to get the right people and aircraft into position has ensued. One attempted remedy was to offer the opportunity to "crossover" from a legacy workgroup that was overstaffed and shrinking to a legacy workgroup that was understaffed and growing. What started as a solution to a logistics problem has become a cross-cultural phenomenon.

While among the three stratified legacy Flight Attendant popluations there is a general air of "us v. them" and "ours is better than theirs", the 100+ individuals who have participated in the crossover are the ONLY ones who have any meaningful cross-cultural, cross-contract experience. These brave souls risked much and took a leap of faith to test the waters of the "other" side. In spite of the number of years they had previously accrued, they went to the bottom of the seniority list when they arrived (with an assurance that they would return to their fully-vested, integrated position once we are fully-merged). They agreed to work under a contract and work rules that were totally alien to them "without a net". They endured some pretty withering criticism from their legacy peers who, themselves, were too fearful to find their own answers by venturing out thusly. And, to a person, they have earned my utmost respect and admiration.

They are truly ambassadors to our communal future! I fear that we do not accord them the credit and respect that they deserve for being pioneers. But I guess that's the way pioneerism works, huh? If it were easy, if it were a slam-dunk, EVERYBODY would do it!

It's not easy to forge new paths. 100+ of my peers have chosen to do just that and I am so grateful to them for their contributions to our new reality. Perhaps eventually, our group's leadership will find a way to put aside their own agendas, follow the lead of these enlightened trailblazers and we will harmoniously be united.

Perhaps...

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 24, 2013

Today I live in gratitude for a work family who has done so much to open my eyes to new ways of seeing myself and my world. Largely because of them, a month that might have been a drudgery was, instead, a delight of discovery, both within and without. 

It is a wonderful, fascinating world!

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 23, 2013

Sometimes...

You must let go of something really important to you in order to move on: often difficult, always risky but such a key to unlocking the great mystery of it all.

Grateful for all of life's opportunities, especially those realized with reluctance.

Comfort is overrated.

Tonight as we make what could very well be my final trek from the hotel to Murtala Muhammed Airport, I intend to be present in the moment. I have the perfect refrain in mind to complete the mood.

L'Intermezzo Della Cavalleria Rusticana is just the right combination of melancholy and passion for how I have felt during my time in Africa. I intend to "record" my own little mental film, complete with score, to be replayed over and over and....

http://youtu.be/fZynaqyy7MI

Il Maestro Riccardo Muti dirige l'Intermezzo della Cavalleria Rusticana

Il maestro Riccardo Muti dirige magistralmente il celeberrimo 'Intermezzo" della Cavalleria Rusticana, del grande musicista livornese Pietro Mascagni e regis...

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 22, 2013

Abraham,

Martin,

And JOHN.

So grateful that three such brilliant lights were shed on our darkness. Each was extinguished too soon by the violence of a gunshot...

Whose report was like the exclamation point at the end of an emphatic sentence!

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 21, 2013

Consider the circumstances of your birth. To be born a citizen of the UNITED STATES of AMERICA is one of the greatest privileges never earned by the recipient. From the beginning, an American's life is rife with the freedom and opportunity that others can only dare to dream of. It's easy to take such serendipitous happenstance for granted when one has done nothing to earn what one is given. 

Being fond of words, I look to the words of others to express my gratitude for my own American birthright:

Give me liberty or give me death.

I regret that I have but one life to give for my country.

We the People, in order to form a more perfect union...

From sea to shining sea

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

The solemn pride that must be yours, to have laid such a sacrifice on the altar of freedom.

...of the people, by the people, for the people

Walk softly and carry a big stick

a day that will live in infamy

we have nothing to fear but fear itself

ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country

I have a dream

One small step for man. One giant step for mankind.

Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.

"High Flight"

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

-John Gillespie Magee, Jr.


With great opportunity comes great responsibility. At the very least, I have the responsibility to acknowledge the great gifts that I have been given.

But to whom?

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 20, 2013

I'm so thankful to have been endowed with a sense of humor!

When I see others taking it all so seriously, I just want to grab them by the shoulders, give them a good shake and say, "LIGHTEN UP!"

The bottom line is that "NOBODY gets out alive"...no matter how serious s/he may be!

Enjoy...

http://www.mandatory.com/2013/07/02/fully-grown-adults-recreate-their-childhood-photos/27

funny photos, childhood photos, recreating childhood photos,

www.mandatory.com

This is a caption about recreating a childhood photo (Running out of things to say here...)

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 19, 2013

These UNITED STATES, this great nation has produced an astounding collection of statesmen, leaders, authors, poets, orators; men and women who, even today, inspire others at home and around the world. It would seem that the very nature ofour democracy is to inspire greatness and great words.

One man of simple, humble beginnings rose to greatness at precisely the moment in our history that required his unique skills. His prodigious talents included that of providing the exact sentiment dictated by events; never moreso than on November 19, 1863:

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

Abraham Lincoln

150 years later, I live in gratitude that our people produced the right man for the right job at just the right time.

• 

  Tony Reece About this, the only know photograph of the day's events: "Lincoln is pictured in the center of the platform, hatless with his bodyguard, Ward Lamon, and Governor Andrew Curtin of Pennsylvania. Lincoln's private secretaries, John Hay and John Nicolay, orator Edward Everett, and Gettysburg attorney and organizer David Wills may be among those near the president.

  Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg, November 19, 1863. Facsimile from glass plate negative. Brady-Handy Collection, Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress"

MY SEASON OF GRATITUDE: November 18, 2013

Parenthood is one aspect of adulthood that I was content to forego. After all, it was about as likely that I would be a parent as I would be crowned Queen of England! But that's the funny thing about life: just when you think you have it all figured out...

My own mother once remarked that Philip and I had “the perfect life” (her words). We did as we pleased, came and went as we pleased, worked little, played much and, when we worried, we worried about what I called our “problems of luxury.” We were responsible for each other, the odd pet, and little else. In essence, we were cruising through life with the sun on our faces and the wind at our backs, but aware of the “reality” of the lives of others through work, family and friends. We heard about it all and lived it all vicariously, especially on the airplane jumpseat, “You won't believe what my son did this weekend!”, “I was up until 3 in the morning with a sick kid”, “I was so happy that Aaron passed math this semester.” I remember thinking, “whew, I'm so glad I don't have to deal with all of that”! And, almost simultaneously feeling, a little wistfully, “I wonder what it would be like to be someone's parent?” Silly me...

You see, life and circumstances and “the universal consciousness” must have been paying attention. Because they all conspired to turn my reality, Philip's reality, our reality upside down and sent us an early mid-life wake-up call named Joaquin. That changed everything! Our self-focused “perfect life” was over. A bucket full of icy-cold “OH SHIT!” was dumped squarely on our heads and we, too, tasted the bittersweet flavor of parenthood. Against all the odds, both Philip and I were soon sharing stories, asking advice, lamenting seemingly earth-shattering decisions just like every other mom or dad that we'd shared a jumpseat, meal or exercise class with for years before. 4 a.m. Alarm, after 4 p.m. Pickup from swimming, after two-days-a-week at school as a PTA “mom”, after “DO NUMBER 11!”, after years of seeing Philip only in passing because of our opposite schedules, after “I've had it with your bullshit rules!”, after....

You get it. If your palms are sweating reading it the way that mine are writing it, you REALLY get it! Let's just say that Lagos trips don't scare me the way they likely once would have.

Because, against all the odds, I have been someone's de facto parent. Perhaps the greatest lesson learned in the process is that the process has NO END. Parenting, de facto or otherwise, is forever! The sublime and the abysmal wrapped up in one, not-so-neat, life-experience altering little package with its seemingly universal interrogative:

How did I do? Was it enough? Too much? Will I ever really know?

Today, I live in gratitude that my “perfect life” took a little detour.

(But I've gotten REALLY CAREFUL about the things that I'm wistful about!)