An Earth Day Thought

I always thought that Autumn was my favorite season but I have come to realize over the years that Spring has taken the fore.

It's amazing how new life and greenery appears each day. What was barely a bud yesterday becomes a full blown bud that "springs a leaf" the next. The birds sing rhythmically, sharing the wonders with their pals as they find as their way from one source of sustenance to another, then take off in pairs.

Spring is a season of hope and promise. Enjoy it and the rest of earth's gifts as long as she's willing to share them.

But whatever you do, stop pissing her off. She doesn't like it when she's not respected.

And that, my friends, is why it's definitely Mother Earth. "Hell hath no fury..."

What Turns You On?

A recent story about a male stripper performing at a nursing home made me smile, then pause.

Am I the only one whose excitement emanates more from within? I'm no "poker face." When I'm enthralled and engaged, it is blatantly obvious: My energy level is high and I feel intoxicated without taking alcohol or any substance. This is usually because those around me lift me up by their pure energy, love and respect. Some refer to this as being "empathic," and I am hard-pressed to disagree.

For the most part, I abhor the concept of strippers—male or female. To me, it is nether stimulating, nor enticing. I find myself way too embarrassed for the performer to enjoy their efforts. I know he's not turned on by me, we are unlikely to end up in the sack, and everything he does is part of his act—his way of making a living. Therefore I pass on such displays whenever possible.

I have never completely understood the "stripper thing" overall. Of course, I understand that men in particular tend to be visual beings more scintillated by a woman throwing herself on him, gyrating accordingly. It apparently makes him feel special. The fantasy removes him from his often mundane routine. Except he's paying quite the premium for the display. (Some, far higher prices than they—or those they love—could ever have imagined.)

How little one must think of himself to believe he has nothing to attract a woman except money in his pocket. Money he can often ill-afford—and the dancer is very eager to collect.

I don't believe I'm repressed or reluctant to let loose. In my younger days I spent many hours on the dance floor, letting my freak flag fly, letting each beat of the music filter through my body in movement and rhythm. To me, that is freedom; that is exciting. 

Maybe it's just another sign that I'm more of a "doer" than a "watcher."

Real Love in the Real World

Since I first stood up straight without my corrective shoes during the Mickey Mouse Club, television has been a huge part of my life. Truth is that I can never get enough. The TV is on essentially from my first waking moment to when the timer switches it off after I've fallen asleep.

I started watching General Hospital when I was nine years old. The daytime drama pattern endures fifty years later: As soon as two of the show's favorite characters finally make it down the aisle, someone is in the wings to wreak havoc on their relationship.

Although they conclude more succinctly, movies aren't much different: Kismet, angst, unrequited, requited, unrequited again, then eventually into each other's arms to live happily ever after.  (No doubt some computer generated imagery will also include an explosion or alien invasion.)

Amazingly, we tend to think it's romantic to have our love lives play out like these stories: That difficult, torturous, gut-and-soul-wrenching experiences are prerequisites on the path to eternal love.  

But in the midst of all the craziness, we ignore a very basic reality: Without the intense storylines, there is no story. Without the tedious, drawn-out adventures, lots of people aren't working.

It is wise to remember—and inform our children—that Hollywood's version of romance is not reality, it is an illusion. Relationships may have obstacles and certain dramas (aka life events) will naturally occur but we don't need to cry an ocean of tears to achieve love. In fact, it's often far more organic and usually kind of simple, sometimes even boring. But that's okay.

Because, ultimately, one of life's most precious gifts is to find someone we can trust and with whom we can be our true selves. Believe me when I say that there's no script for that.

Self-Worth Good, Inflated Ego Bad

As a woman raised "old school" by a hard working "DQI" (Don't Question It) family, working my butt off is not a foreign concept. I have done more than my fair share of all-nighters and 16-hour-plus workdays.

But since the economic downturn circa 2008, making a decent living seems to have become more of a herculean task. The survivors of downsizing often question whether they were really that lucky to hold on to their jobs at all, because they're now doing the work of two or more of the laid-off employees.

Usually "higher-ups" only seem to know what they don't want but never seem to know exactly what they do want.  Their beleaguered employees suffer in the fallout, trying to satisfy their conflicted bosses; personal lives and health suffer, raises of any significance appear now a perk of the past.

Experience, expertise and aging are frequently the kiss of death. Instead of being paid for an acquired skillset and years of focusing on their jobs, worker bees are either forced to work for far less than they are worth or are shuffled out of a job so "young blood" can skulk in and work for (comparable) peanuts. (Except, of course, the young'uns utilize the job for the bare minimum of skills they need to move elsewhere as soon as they can.) 

Longevity and dedication to a job, industry, or business is simply not rewarded like it was even a decade or so ago.

Everyone is replaceable. Whether you want them to be, or not. If you don't think so, take a look at the entertainment/news business.

One of the most over-inflated egos to hit the morning news-entertainment genre is Josh Elliott. His entrée onto Good Morning America was scattered and teary after saying goodbye to his buddies at ABC "brother station" ESPN. He appeared to be a super-sensitive doting father and overall loveable big lug. But there was so much more brewing under the surface—and not much of it good. (If you want the gossip about his personal exploits, just Google it—it's there in volumes and at least some of it has to be true.)

At a time when my friends in the news business have sacrificed nearly every semblance of normalcy to stay in the industry for which they have been honing their skills, they're lucky to make half of what they were making ten years ago. That is, if they have a job at all. Largely because many of their fresh-faced newbie counterparts who think they know it all can afford to work for less because they are probably still living at home with Mom and Dad. They then milk the job for contacts and status and quickly move on, without little afterthought.

Many think—just like Oprah—they're going to be a household name. (Lara Spencer gave it a go at The Insider after she first left GMA, only to return. While her re-debut was a bit frenzied, with some uncomfortable moments with Elliott as they initially tried to outdo each other for attention, she has settled in much more comfortably and quietly re-signed her contract. She'd already learned her lesson.)

The idea of being a household name is an almost laughable notion, considering the fact that many viewers can't remember anchor-reporter names half the time. Then a lot of media outlets tend to have a clone-closet of similar-looking alternates (e.g., the Berman-Tapper-Harris-Stephanopolous quadruplets and Golodryga-Faris-Vargas triplets on ABC). 

Not that an astute or attentive person couldn't tell the difference among each of these reporter-anchors as credible, skilled journalists, but they all physically resembled each other to the point that ABC hoped you didn't care enough to appreciate each of them for the unique individual journalists they are. (Eventually Berman and Tapper moved on; Faris doesn't seem to be returning after maternity leave and is not currently listed in the ABC News list of talent.)

But taking all this into consideration, adding the chaos that is the television business, and Disney's historic penny-pinching ways, Elliott had the unmitigated chutzpah to ask for $8 million during his new contract negotiations when his present salary had been $1.2 million.  Nearly six times his going rate to watch an almost-creepily-child-hugging, daughter-obsessed clod shuffle around GMA everyday? He's just not cute enough to make up for his downside.

No, thank you. As a former journalist myself, as well as a loyal viewer who watches seven days a week (pretty much since the show debuted), I'm thankful GMA didn't take the bait. So off Josh goes to NBC Sports. (The rumors he was going to be a regular Today Show anchor—reportedly planted so that GMA would cave to his asking price—have since been verified by Today to have not been based in fact).

News hit Twitter Sunday night (3/30/2014) that Elliott was joining NBC. He didn't even bother to return to GMA for a classy goodbye come Monday. (Was he afraid he'd cry? I'm sure he would have—at least for the cameras.) ABC simultaneously announced Amy Robach—a proven news pro and survivor on so many levels—would be taking his seat on the anchor desk.

Ultimately my choice would be Ron Claiborne, who in my opinion, has the class, style, charm, credibility, and chops to "fill the man void" and keep GMA from looking like The View with poor George trying to keep the girls in line. (Although I wish they could have held on to Sam Champion, who is has left a huge hole in their morning crew.)

The moral here is where I started: Everyone can be replaced. And unlike Charlie Sheen replacing Michael J. Fox on "Spin City," giving Elliott the old heave-ho is an excellent move by ABC/GMA. 

Maybe ABC will now throw some of the cash they saved into the pockets of their behind-the-scenes production staff. They've earned it.

Update: GMA continues as #1 in morning news/entertainment shows sans Elliott, with numbers rising ever higher. Paula Harris has returned from maternity leave and continues to contribute.

New Spin on Old News

Hate to break it to you, Gwyneth Paltrow Martin, but people have been "consciously uncoupling" for years. You did not invent it and it is not a new trend.

Before you and Chris publicly announced your split, you decided to put a pretentious spin on something most couples set out to do when it's time to put an end to their marriage: Wreak as little havoc into the lives of the children they created.

I can tell you, it's not easy--regardless of how enlightened you are, how spiritual you are, and how "guided" you are.

It's sad when most marriages end. It's even sadder when children are collaterally damaged in the process. Often it's the first inkling they have that life is not perfect, their parents are not perfect, and their own love lives may never be perfect either.

It is not my intent to be a "hater" and it's not really my business whether Gwyneth and Chris "pray, lay or stay" but when you try to make it sound as though you—and only you—have found the spiritually conscious way to walk away from a marriage, you insult everyone who has learned the hard way that there's no pretty way for something that is spiritually, emotionally, and often physically extremely painful. 

Ending a marriage or long-term relationship is a massive change to life as the couple has come to know it and while change can be cathartic and an intense learning experience, some have handled it much better than others. When it occurs, the couple can only hope to be mature and supportive as their "new lives" turn into the same old thing, with sensitive and loving attention to their children in the process.

I'm sure you'll cash in on all this and your followers will see you as brave and trend-setting but you can afford to be. Couples have had painfully less resources and achieved the same goal quite successfully. 

Only they called it what it is: "separation," "divorce," and (gasp, the horror!) "splitting up."

Overload

One of the downsides of having an empathic nature is that even TV shows and the trials and tribulations of their characters can leave me feeling for another's loss or pain. 

Then there's Flight MH370, the Seattle mudslide, recent fires in NJ (Pt Pleasant motel & Edison elementary school--both supposedly caused by a discarded cigarette), and the "little pockets of pain" all over the world that devastate families and communities. 

Sometimes being totally media aware can be draining. 

All we can do is pray, offer strength and hope, and thank God for every moment we have a semblance of peace in our lives.

And turn off the flow of information rushing at us--at least a few seconds.

All this being said, I still don't believe Joss is really dead.

"Hot" Isn't Always "All That"

The problem with "hot" is people don't always get to see the "real you." 

Funny but true: In my "clubbing days," I'd meet a guy and go have breakfast in the wee hours. 

About an hour into talking at a diner, the guy would say to me: "YK, you're really an alright chick." 

It didn't matter to them who I really was at first blush but when forced to relate to me, only then could they tell I was a real, down-to-earth person. (This happened to me several times.) 

Point is: We are who we are and that's okay. There will always be someone, somewhere to appreciate us in depth and breadth--warts'n'all ... The right one will grasp the total you within and feel lucky to be at your side--no matter what. That's the person who is worth the wait. 

Just keep your senses keen to appreciate him/her for all they are--warts'n'all.