I woke up yesterday, completely unaware of what an unforgettable day was in store. My only real plan was to watch the Superbowl. As everyone else in America, I was looking forward to an incredible game and hoping the Saints would bring home the Vince Lombardi trophy to New Orleans - a city well deserving of good news and celebration.
Being Superbowl week, Miami had been filled with hundreds of activities all around town, and I am ashamed to say I had not made it to a single one. However, the week was not yet over.
For those of us that don't necessarily enjoy standing among hundreds of half naked bodies at some free concert on South Beach, or attend a high fashion, all star-party for $1,000 a pop (not that I was invited), there were still some events in and around town that didn't revolve around the big game. One of those events was American Chronicles: The Art of Norman Rockwell at the Museum of Art Fort Lauderdale. My boyfriend and I had made a previous attempt to see it back in November when it first opened. We drove up to Fort Lauderdale, only to find out the museum was closed on Mondays. Although disappointed, we knew we'd have plenty of opportunities to come back. Not so.
It was 3:30 p.m. on Sunday, the last day of the exhibit, when we walked up to the museum only to find the line for tickets was almost around the block and with only 2 hours before the museum shut the doors. Having driven so far, we decided to give it a shot and wait to see if we'd have enough time to buy tickets, see the exhibit and drive back to Miami in time for Superbowl kick-off at 6:30 p.m. I am thrilled we tried!!
Before yesterday, I really didn't know much about Norman Rockwell. I had seen a few covers from The Saturday Evening Post which he became famous for and always found them charming. After yesterday's exhibit, however, I am now intrigued about his work and definitely intend to learn more about him. I found the exhibit to be just what the critics have written about him through the years, Norman Rockwell has a way of painting the reality of daily life in America in a somewhat idyllic way. His attention to the smallest detail; his unique way of telling a story and drawing the viewer into the picture and into the story are synonymous of his work. He represents American society in the 20th Century as "idyllic". Just a minute sampling of the hundreds of paintings I was fortunate enough to see.
It was now 6:15 p.m. when we headed back towards Miami. Obviously we were not going to make it home in time for kick off, but driving right by the stadium, we managed to see the fighter jets fly right above us - incredible!!
The entire world knows the final score of the game. It was an unbelievable game. Both teams gave it their all and I really don't think anyone lost the game. The Saints wanted and needed it more. Of course it didn't hurt that they probably had almost the entire country pulling for them!!! Tomorrow should be an unforgettable homecoming and what a great kick-off to next week's Mardi Gras.
As if the day's events hadn't been exciting enough. After the game, my boyfriend began surfing the channels and came across the NASA channel. Don't ask me how, but one minute I was cleaning up our Superbowl snacks, and the next minute, 12:15 a.m. to be exact, I was packing up empanadas, my camera and my dog Cody. We had decided to drive up to the Kennedy Space Center to try and see the Shuttle Endeavor take off on its last nightime launch before the space shuttle program is cancelled. Lift off was at 4:14 a.m.
We arrived at the Kennedy Space Center at 3:40 a.m. As I write this, I still can't believe we actually did it. What's more, I can't believe that I was fortunate enough to see something so incredible in my lifetime. I really can't find the words to describe it. You read all about it, you see it on t.v. but nothing can prepare you for that moment - "we have lift off". The entire night sky lights up before your eyes as you watch a giant fire ball rise up into the sky above you and then disappears. It is something everyone should see at least once in their lifetime. After seeing such an incredible sight, I'm sad to know that there are only 4 more shuttle missions left before the program is cancelled, and as of today, no other program to take it's place.
The launch itself took only a few minutes, but the memories will be engraved in my mind for the rest of my life.
In the last 24 hours I have experienced the best of America and what makes this country great - art, sports and space discovery!!! What a truly blessed day it was.
Over the past week, we have been bombarded by the media with news of various Toyota recalls. At first it was the floor mats, then the accelerator on four of their most popular models, then there was news that the Prius may also be experiencing some problems...and finally this morning, the Lexus Hybrid. Although this is bad news for Toyota owners, it seems that the media has been focusing almost all of it's attention on "poor old Toyota"...as if there was anything poor about them. Public Relations gurus have been interviewed ad nauseum as to the long-term effects of the "brand's image" and how Toyota can bounce back from all of this negative publicity, if at all.
Our economy is at the lowest point it has been since the Great Depression and unemployment rates were at 10% (apparently the new numbers came out today and they have gone down slightly). For those reasons alone, it amazes me that almost every item we as American consumers can get our hands on these days is "Made in China", or some other country other than the good old USA. Instead of worrying about the future of Mr. Toyota, why aren't people considering the option that Toyota's public relations nightmare could maybe be the US auto makers' blessing in disguise? Why don't the Big 3 take advantage of this situation and try to gain back some of the market share lost to Toyota and Honda over the past who knows how many years (too many I might add)? Why don't we as Americans try to understand the simple concept that we should all strive to help our economy by keeping products from being manufactured overseas instead of here in the USA.
The other day I was at a store shopping for a few things. As a consumer, I have never much cared about where things were made; that is, until this past year when I couldn't help but read and hear about the dog food recalls, children's jewelry and toy recalls, drywall recalls, etc. from products made in China. Now I try to make it a point not to buy things that say "Made in China" if I can help it. (As you know, that is almost impossible nowadays). In any event, I picked up a plate and read "Made in the USA" and it brought a smile to my face. Something so simple and yet so rare in the world of fast growing Capitalism where making a buck seems to come at the cost and health of the consumer, not to mention much needed jobs.
I'm sorry for Toyota, I've never owned one of their cars myself, but I hope that someone out there in Detroit will see this as a golden opportunity and run with it.
Friendship means so many things to so many different people. Some people see their friends as someone to hang out with during their spare time, others actually see friends for what they can do for them or give them - maybe they can get them into the right social circles, into the "in" clubs. Some of us, like me, see friendship as something to be treasured, cherished, nurtured and valued.
As far back as I can remember, I was never one to have a ton of friends or find it particularly important for those friends to be part of the "in" crowd. Having moved around so much when I was young would make a person think I'd be good at making friends. Not so. Never being in a place long enough to establish great friendships made it all the more difficult to start new ones and to let people in.
So here I am, almost middle aged - I should have a rolodex full of friends but I don't, and I don't mind either. I know that the friends I have, value and cherish my friendship as much as I value and cherish theirs. We've been through thick and thin together, the good, the bad and the ugly. We have laughed together and cried together. Most importantly, we understand the value that each one of us has in the other's life. We respect each other's space and sense when that space is in fact a cry for help. We understand that friendship is a living, breathing thing and cannot be taken for granted.
Yet I'm sad to say that this has not always been the case. I have been disappointed more than once. Maybe I'm too naive. For years I believed that men and women could be friends. I have come to the realization that this is almost impossible. I say "almost" because I'm sure there are the exceptions...but that is what they are...exceptions. I think that when a man and a woman say they are friends, it means that only one of the two consider themselves a true friend. The other is only there hoping things will change or settling for whatever they can get. Everything is done hoping to change the feelings of the other person. It has happened to me more times than I would care to remember. The problem with this kind of friendship is that in the end, both of you loose. The person that hopes to win the other's affection looses because they will never get what they hope for, and the other looses when one day their friend is gone and they don't have the faintest idea why.
It really is true what they say - you can count (or should be able to count) your real friends in one hand.
