The Food Revolution

Although I haven't mentioned it here, we're on a new regime chez Becca's.  There has been a revolution in my kitchen, a sea change of the healthy sort, thrust upon us by some sobering medical news from my husband's physicians.  My dear husband has been suffering from a multitude of physical ailments which the medical professionals have kindly lumped together into something they call metabolic syndrome.  If you're afflicted with high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high insulin/glucose, sleep apnea, restless leg syndrome, and carry a spare tire (or two) around your middle, chances are good that you're part of this crowd.  (By the way, my husband has not one, not two, but all of the above symptoms.)  Left untreated, this condition can result in diabetes, heart disease, stroke...all the biggies. Treatment mainly consists of LIFESTYLE CHANGES. 

We all know how much middle-aged men love lifestyle changes.  Translated into doctor speak, it means more exercise, less eating.  More bike riding, less television.  More fish, less beef.  More beans, fewer potatoes.  More fruit, no ice cream.

My husband is not a happy camper.

"Eating is my one pleasurable activity," he whined after the program was laid out for him.

"Now that's just pitiful," I replied.  "First off, that can't be true.  And if it is true - well, you'd better just find some other pleasurable activities."

The irony of the situation is that the "healthy" diet his doctors and nutritionist espouse is full of all my favorite things...fresh fish, whole grains, lots of fruits and vegetables.  That's not to say I don't crave a loaded cheeseburger once in a while, but in general the loss of beef and starchy white foods does not hurt my feelings nearly as much as it does the Irishman out there on the sofa.

We've been at this for about six weeks now, and I say we because I jumped on the bandwagon as well.  After all, what women of a certain age wouldn't be happy to lose 10 or 15 pounds?  The grumbling has dissipated somewhat, and I've come up with enough healthy versions of his favorite things to keep him fairly well satisfied.

I'm no gourmet cook, and I like to make things that are quick and easy.  So herein is the first in a "series" I plan to call "Too Good to be Healthy," some of the easy recipes we've found that actually taste good enough to make you wonder if they really are healthy foods.

Try them.  You might join the food revolution too.

Veggie Pizza, Mediterranean Style

One Boboli brand whole grain pizza crust, spread with...

One jar of your favorite pizza sauce (I like Chef Boy Ar Dee), topped with....

Veggie Toppings, all sautéed lightly in a splash of extra virgin olive oil: Baby Portabella mushrooms, Green Pepper, Diced onion, black or green olives, covered with...

A light dusting of freshly shaved Parmigiano cheese over top.

Bake at 450 for about 15-20 minutes.

Serve with a large tossed salad and your favorite light dressing.

Outside the Box

"I was just amazed you said Yes!" my friend Pat responded when I thanked her for inviting me along on her annual Ladies Only outing to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario.  Inwardly, I was taken aback just a bit by this remark.  Have I become so reclusive that my friends are surprised when I agree to go places with them? Admittedly, I do tend to stick to myself,  often choose being at home with my dogs and a book over going to movies or parties.  Once again, I go back to my roots as an only child as the reason for this.  I've always been perfectly happy with just me, myself, and I for company, and tire easily when I'm "in society" too much.

But I didn't realize my habit of hunkering down alone had become so noticeable .

Of course, one of the things at which my friend Pat is particularly skilled is getting people to step outside their box.  She taught high school music and drama for two decades, and that definitely requires major expansion of one's comfort zone.   Although I was an adult when I met her, no one had ever done much in the way of encouraging me to push the boundaries of my safe little box.   Working with her for 15 years provided me lots of opportunities to stretch those walls I'd always lived so comfortably within.  Performing dozens of times every year and in all kinds of places; being ready to cope with less than stellar conditions or changes in program at a moment's notice; forming relationships with students and their parents ~ these are the kinds of things that built my confidence and gave me the courage to leap outside the parameters of my small, insular life.

Even though Pat and I maintain a lasting friendship, we haven't worked together on a regular basis for the past several years.  Those years have been a bit traumatic for me - I've been through some major losses in terms of people I love, and some rather stern lifestyle changes as well.  If I'm honest, I can feel myself retreating back into that safety zone I once knew so well, that tiny safe place called home where I can huddle into a metaphorical corner.  I need someone - or something - to encourage me to step outside of the box again.

Because the two days I spent in Stratford this week  with Pat and several other friends were just amazing.  We saw some breathtaking theater productions, but we also had great conversations and shared some really relaxing moments.  I'm surprised by just how much events like this mean to me.   They are rare, so they take on a quality of preciousness in my mind, like some small, perfect jewel of experience in my memory.

It was good to have some quality time outside the box this week.

How about you?  What (or whom) can get you to step outside the boxes you've built  around  your life?

Kite Flying

When I think about why people have children, I realize how little it should have to do with the future.  If, before any children are conceived, we knew that our reward for raising them would be perhaps several phone calls a month, a very occasional visit, and the sense of having once been important in their lives, we might not do it.  But if we realize that the rewards are given during the raising, we will calculate the cost differently.  My children have taught me more than I have taught them, given me more joy that I have given them, and their not being present or even much aware of me now does not alter this.   ~ from The Journal Keeper, by Phyllis Theroux

Right before my son's senior year in high school, my friend Pat gave me a framed reprint of the poem titled "Children Are Like Kites."  You've probably seen it - the gist of it is that you spend years preparing children to "get off the ground."  You run with them, patch them up when they're torn, pick them up off the ground countless times.   You let the string out a bit at a time, until finally they're airborne.  Finally, "the kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you together and it will soar as it was meant to soar - free, and alone."

Of course, by the time you get to this part of the poem, you're choking back tears.  Even now, some 12 years later, I get teary eyed reading those last few words.

But then there's the final sentence:

Only then do you know that you have done your job.

I believe that's true.  It's in the letting go that a parent really comes to know what they're made of.  And if you've done your job well, when you read that very last line you'll dry your tears, stand up a little straighter, take a deep breath and move on.

Most of you know that my husband and I are only children, and in terms of feeling responsible for their parents' happiness,  I think the burden on an only child is rather great.  My parents and my husband's parents were as different as night and day in their child-rearing styles, but nevertheless, the outcome on each side was exactly the same.  Both of us always felt the need to be perfect, and to do whatever it took to make our parents happy, even if that meant subsuming what we desired for our own lives.  

So when we got married, we had an agreement - if/when we had children, we would not stand in their way, would not make them feel as if our lives depended on their constant presence, not make them feel guilty or worried about what we'd do without them. 

In short, we'd let them break the kite string and soar.

We've tried really hard to do that, and I think we've succeeded pretty well.  Our only son left home at age 18 to go to college in Florida, traveled more than halfway around the world on several occasions,  met and married a young woman from a completely different culture.  He's lived in Florida for the past 12 years, and is planning to move again - to Texas, this time, to embark upon another era in his life's journey. 

As a matter of fact, sometimes I have to laugh at just how well we've succeeded in allowing him to soar.  I'm sure his trajectory simply boggles the minds of our parents, as well as other more conservative folks in our families, who probably always wondered why in the world  we let  him do those things. 

Make no mistake, there's nothing easy about this process.  There's no magic pill you can take to stop missing your children, to keep your heart from aching when you're apart on birthdays and holidays, to prevent you from wondering what they're doing or how their day is going, if they're in a bad mood or on top of the world.   I've always been deeply  involved in my own mother's life (probably overly so),  and I  know that I will continue to become even more involved from now on as she draws nearer to the end of it,  and  it hurts sometimes to think I might never have that kind of relationship with my own child,  that I  may very well need to rely on the "kindness of strangers" to shepherd me through my later years. 

But, as Phyllis Theroux says in the passage quoted above ~"My children have taught me more than I have taught them, given me more joy that I have given them, and their not being present or even much aware of me now does not alter this."  

Watching those beautiful, strong, colorful kites waving proudly in the breeze is worth everything, and one of life's greatest experiences.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Marketing Madness (Take 2)

At that same business function I attended the other day, I met a woman who Tweets for a living. Yes, Tweets ~ as in Twitter.

She also does Facebook and Linked-In, and something else  whose name I didn't catch.

She's made a career of being a Social Media expert.

Meeting her was rather serendipitous because earlier that day at the office we'd been looking at the prototype for our new website, noticing that it had been configured to display a live Twitter feed.

"We don't need that, do we?" I queried. 

"I really think we should to try this," said E., the young woman who's managing our new marketing campaign.  "All the attorney's we're marketing have it on their web sites."

Naturally, Sandra, the Social Media expert I referred to earlier, was in total agreement.

"Absolutely! You must put your name out there and get involved in social media networking and marketing!"  

I still wasn't convinced.  A small medical case management group, targeting auto insurance, attorney, and geriatric cases ~ what on earth would we tweet?  Sandra wasn't going to give her secrets away, but she offered this tidbit. "Everything you post should either educate, motivate, or stimulate," she advised. 

Apparently while I've been playing around here in blog land, this brave new world of Social Media marketing has exploded all around me.  I started Googling the term, and the first link that pops up is Get A Degree in Social Media - from Full Sail University (my son's alma mater).  Not surprisingly, it's an online course.

So, I've been doing some further investigating, in hopes that any venture into this arena might be an area where my potential "marketing" talents might be put to better use.    My boss has even offered to send me to a seminar to learn more about this concept.    Although I'm still a little skeptical about the efficacy of social media for the needs of our particular company, I'm a lot more interested in the concept than I am in wandering around at cocktail parties or golf outings.

How about you?  What's your take on social media?

Marketing Madness

It's 10:30-ish, and I'm just now dragging myself in from work.  Actually, work is a relative term if you consider that I spent the evening at a cocktail reception and then enjoying a well cooked salmon filet on a bed of something that looked like mush, was really black eyed peas and roasted figs, and tasted absolutely marvelous.  I've been out marketing.

The entire staff  at my office has been drafted into the latest wave of developments to "market" our small medical case management company to the wider world.  While I was quite happy to write copy for the web page and brochure, and help with the design for some print ads, I was less than thrilled when I got drafted to attend an after work reception designed for "networking" with member of the Birmingham Chamber of Commerce.

Hobnobbing with strangers is not really my thing.  I can converse easily with people I know, and even people I don't really know but have some tangential relationship toward.  For instance, if I'm at a church picnic, I can go up to people and initiate a conversation because we all have the shared bond of being church members.  If I'm at a concert, or a fund raiser for a musical group, or even a dinner party at a friends house, I fell comfortable enough speaking to strangers because I know we have at least something in common, whether it be it an interest in music or my friends good food.

But to wander into a room full of business people I"ve never met and be expected to strike up a conversation while trying to drum up business - egad. 

Let's just say ice water was been running through my veins all day long.  This afternoon when it was time to go, I was dragging my feet like a five year old on the way to the dentist (without even the luxury of being able to whine about it).

At first it was about as bad as I imagined.  There were a dozen or so folks milling around, clutching tiny glasses of sour white wine in one hand and juggling business cards in the other.  My boss soon struck up a conversation with someone, and I hovered close behind her, glancing surreptitiously around in hopes of finding someone I might know.  I felt completely invisible, because it was clear that she was the one with the power in our little duet.  She's quite assertive and has a certain vision of the company she's eager to project. 

Another woman joined our little group, and the coversation turned toward elder care, an area we're trying to promote in our business.  Certainly I had something to say on that subject.  And then I hear the magic words from one of these ladies..."My brother's a musician," she said offhandedly, "and plays in the Detroit Symphony." 

I glanced at her name tag, and immediately recognized the last name.  "Murry Okun is your brother?" I asked.

"Yes!" she said.  "Do you know him?" 

I fudged a little, because I don't, but one of my friends does.  "My friend plays in the DSO," I replied.  "David Everson."

"David!" she cried out.  "I've known Dave for years!  And do you know his girlfriend, Jill?"

"Well, I believe she's his fiance now," I answered smugly, knowing they'd announce their engagement to the family last week.

"WHAT! I just saw her!  She never said a word!  Molly," she cried, calling over a friend.  "Did you know Dave and Jill were engaged???"

"No!" Molly shrieked.

Suddenly, I was no longer at a Chamber of Commerce function, but in the school yard of the junior high.

And - I was in.

My boss stepped back and let the conversation flow on about musicians, and girlfriends, and symphony functions.  Finally we got around to talking about the business' these women were involved in, and then they started calling over their friends and introducing us around.

My boss took us out for dinner afterwards (which explains the nice salmon filet and the reason I'm home so late).  She seemed pleased enough with the outcome of the event.  "Boy," she said to me, "you know  a lot of people, don't you?"

Not really.  Thankfully, the music world is very small, and brings people together in some very unexpected ways sometimes.

I got lucky, and the evening turned out to be a little better than I had expected.  Still, I'd rather stay in my little corner of the office and write copy for web sites and newlsetters and twitter feeds, all of which I think are in the offing as part of the marketing madness.