When The Local Trumps the Express

Public transit seems to have cornered the market for ineptitude.  Two trains running the same rails to the same terminal point, one an express that bypasses half of the fifteen stops (I know you can’t have seven and one half stops) and the local that makes all fifteen stops.

The trains, the express and the local arrive at my boarding platform at the same time.  Which of the two trains do you think leaves the location first?  Give you two guesses and the first one doesn’t count.  Did you guess the express?  Oh you don’t know Philadelphia mass transit.  The local leaves before the express, you know, the one that stops fifteen times leaves ahead of the one that bypasses seven and a half stops.

Well the local crawls along and the express behind it crawls as well.  Somewhere along the way the string securing a dispatcher’s marble bag came undone.  Maybe I’m not thinking of this correctly. Maybe the local is supposed to slow down the express.  Let’s not get riders accustomed to anything resembling on-time service run by thoughtful people.

For all you SEPTA employees I feel for you.  I have a relative working there a number of years (such number to be withheld to protect identities). She tells me there is more concern by senior management to punish employees rather than run an efficient system.

I know, maybe you need to bring employees to heel in order to run a tight ship.  I disagree, running the equivalent of an average size vessel, I provide appropriate license for my staff numbering greater than one and less than one hundred.  When you drive employees to the brink of mutiny or worse, give them every reason not to care about delivering exceptional service, everyone loses.  The same goes for any other employees impacted by thoughtless management.  Sure, everyone makes mistakes but to perpetuate the mistake with more extensive and egregious miscues is unforgiveable. 

Okay enough problems.  The weekend is upon us and there is fun to be harvested from pent up demand of the congregants participating, and I do mean actively participating, in Ravenmania August 2015.

Concerns, worries and all those drag lines will be shed, forgotten, dismissed or chopped into a million figurative pieces. You - you know who you are - you are destined for thrills and chills this weekend.  Let’s get on with joyous times. See you at the fashion show at Sliders in the New Hope Ramada.  If not there then at the red carpet.

Let’s share a drink and more.  See you there.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

Paying a Debt to Yourself

Do it your way and don’t regret one minute of the decision process.  We can waste seconds, minutes, hours, days, etc. allowing regret to sideline forward progress.  What is forward progress?  That’s for you to define; not for others to decide.  Unless, that is, if you allow others to voluntarily take responsibility for your happiness or others usurp your free will.

Life is about freedom of choice; at least in the land bordered by the two major oceans.  Yes, the same is true in the peninsular appendage in the Bering Sea and the chain of islands in the Pacific.

I’ve probably touched on this subject on more than one occasion.  Rather than belabor the point I want to reiterate and then move on. 

What have you done recently that makes you proud?  Nothing, not even an inkling?  Why not?  Are you shy or do you fear the overwhelming euphoria accompanying accomplishment?

Yes, I’m being facetious.  And why not?  If I have to prod or goad you into doing something for yourself then I reserve the right to utilize whatever vocabulaic utensils at my disposal.

Pay that debt to yourself; wage a frontal assault on obstacles between you and your goal.  Knock them down one at a time; like empty milk bottles at the county fair.  Yes you can.  Repeat after me.  Oops, I didn’t want you to repeat “after me”.  That would be wrong.  Let’s try that again, shall we?  Repeat “yes I can”. Continue unabated until you believe the statement.  Burn it indelibly in your psyche.  These are words of success; words to fuel your engine of progress.

Enjoy your Thursday.  Take a personal day from obstructions; a vacation from grief and struggles.  Today is your day.  Actually, everyday is your day if you so choose.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

Fascination with Bumper Stickers

In the interest of disinterest I’m going to ask a few questions.  Hopefully members of my readership will assist with intellectual tidbits to provide enlightenment.

No doubt you’ve seen those yellow squares, turned to resemble a baseball diamond, proclaiming “Baby on Board”.  I’m fascinated by those hanging declaratories.  I’m sure there is a good reason for spending to announce.  Is the reason to inform in the event of an accident – or as the Californians say “A Crash”?  Or it such revelation meant to impact the driving habits of others not so fortunate?

If that is the case maybe we should fashion other of these signs; maybe different colors to reflect the variety of the community.  Here are a few suggestions.  The color options remain up for grabs.

“Lunatic on Board” White letters on black background.  That would be plum crazy.

“Firearm in the Glove Box” Steel gray background and gold lettering.  Definitely on target.

“Divorcee on Board” Red background with white letters, with or without dollar signs to indicate either fleecer or fleecee.  Probably better than posting a profile on a dating site.

“Nymphomaniac on Board” White background with candy apple red letters outlined in glitter.  Should include a telephone number.

“Escaped Felon on Board”  Black background, red letters over white prison bars.  Conceived as a running joke.

“Paroled Murderer on Board” A big red “Paroled” stamp as background.  Everybody deserves a second chance.

“Blow in the Trunk”  Snowy background with letters that resemble rolled up currency.  Sudden posse with red noses and bloodshot eyes.

“Wife beater on Board”  Black letters on a canvas shaped like a sleeveless tee shirt.  Inviting justifiable homicide.

Can you imagine the possibilities?  Look, people are proud to express themselves.  Count vehicles with no expressionism and I’ll bet the numbers are woefully low.  Then there are those who choose to paper every blank space on their rear bumper with pithy phrases that make one wonder.

I’ve seen what looked like bullet holes on the rear quarter panel.  Closer examination revealed magnetic replicas.  I’ve also seen sports paraphernalia imbedded in a rear window.

Okay I’ll admit I’m flummoxed by the excessive expressionism.  I don’t get the need to tell strangers our view on things that probably matter not to passersby.  Especially those who announce “My bully beat up your honor student”.  Yikes, limitless thoughtlessness.

Is there a business in developing a digital text crawler to sit on the rear windowsill that responds to voice commands.  If someone is tailgating you could tell the device to display “If you can read this you’re too close!”  The possibilities are endless.  Imagine having running communications with the driver in your rear view mirror?  Their responses could be displayed on the navigation system display screen.

Have a wonderful day reading all of the interesting pronouncements.  Try not to be mesmerized into a traffic calamity.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro 

What Does Social Acceptance Mean?

Why does being mean find social acceptance?  Fomenting hatred for hatred’s sake is unconscionable.  And posting it publicly, notwithstanding the First Amendment, is beyond senseless.  Maybe the Founding Fathers considered the possibility of such lunacy.  Maybe that’s why there is a Second Amendment.

Being a waste of flesh and bones is no way to go through life.  How much more could we achieve if we didn’t have to waste energy fighting to protect those inalienable rights?  I get so tired of hearing self-justification.

“Oh I can be whatever way I want!”

Yeah, well don’t do it on my time.  Peace-loving people have as much right to equal time as those who choose to impose their will unreasonably on others.  Physical weakness should not fuel bullying.  Some people don’t get it.  Maybe they should get it. If you know what I’m saying.  I’m reacting to a post, accompanied by disgusting picture, shared by a friend.  Prescient sharing; put my concerns about recent posts attacking concealed carry permits into perspective.

Enough ranting and raving about the sheer level of stupidity that has gradually assumed societal prevalence.  We’ve got life to live and precious little time to live it.  So let’s not be sidetracked by those who have nothing better to do than to threaten.  Attention spans and mental capability seem to have escaped certain people.  Lowering ourselves to their subterranean level makes us no better than worms and soil-dwelling insects.  Wait, that’s an insult to those insects!  Now, that’s not to say we should not protect ourselves.  By all means protect away and come to the defense of those who are not capable of defending themselves.

Many of these discussions come down to one thing – how to get past these barriers to happiness without adverse impact on daily life.  Avoidance is synonymous with discretion.  Living to enjoy another day is probably better than exercising rights under Amendment #2 unless you have no alternative.

So we smile; shake our collective head and try to look past.  Remembering to keep one eye in front and one behind to ensure a comfortable safety zone.

I need to be reminded that dwelling on something discomfiting is not healthy.   Writing it down sometimes gives me an outlet to jettison the high coefficient of drag on my updraft.

Let’s get past this goonery and remember to remember that these things have a place in our consciousness but should not dominate anyplace except the mental waste basket.

Have a safe and wonderful Tuesday.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

Deja Vu All Over Again?

How many times a day do you experience coincidences?  Or in the immortal words of that stalwart catcher for the Bronx Bombers, “Déjà vu all over again”?  For your scribe, more times than not.  In fact when the things get too close for comfort I wonder whether the world is smaller than I imagined.

Case in point, dinner Friday evening with a long time friend she brought up the matter of electrologists tossing out the first and last name of the person who inaugurated me to the process.  The cranial processing engine considered the name.  Could it be the same person?  So I probed by mentioning the location and describing my less than fond memories of the professional.

By something more than coincidence, it was the same person.  And to prove you can continue to learn even after the experience has passed, I was informed she had a problem, a real problem, working on the male persuasion.  Now I understand why she asked if I was transgender.  She agreed to work on me because I was in that gender gray area.  But she frequently canceled appointments or delayed starting to work.

Only after switching to a new professional did I realize (yes I’m a tad slow on the uptake) how sad the former professional’s situation was.  My current electrologist is awesome – a girlfriend in the truest sense - and my friend wants to engage her to perform the same procedures with permanent results.

That is one coincidence that crossed my path during the past week; others will remain undisclosed.  While shopping with my daughter this weekend – such fun to shop femme to femme (although in deference to her and our first time together since coming out to her I was androgynous – sounds like something out of Star Wars) we consulted and opined on various skirts, tops and accessories.  She was very helpful with my selections and guarded the dressing room as I stole in, fitted up and slipped out without incident.

Monday brings the remnants of memories from the two “S” days and longing for the weekend.  Upcoming Raven Weekend is shaping up to be amazing.  Jane R. and company are experimenting with a fashion show Friday evening with support from local merchants.  Guarded optimism, I’m hopeful this vendor support is deeper and broader than an opportunity to turn a greenback.  The fact that proceeds from certain aspects of the function are targeted to charities is uplifting and hopefully will encourage a large turn out.

After two weeks of no “out and about” I’m fired up to shed the conventional and prominently display the unconventional.  I hope you will join us for a rousing good time.  Conversation, hugs and warm smiles will dominate the weekend.

Looking forward to seeing you and catching up.  Girlfriends we have so much to talk about.

Have a wonderful day.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

An Addendum to "Age is Only a Number"

This is an addendum to today’s post about growing old and a comment about discrimination.

We’ve all been the object of discrimination; by definition that includes yours truly.  We could attempt to create an exhaustive list of the various and varying types, flavors, degrees and magnitude of discrimination but that would be futile and I think we have much better things to do with our time than to ruminate on the negativity emanating from parts of the environment.

These posts, missives, writings or whatever moniker you choose to attach, are meant to be light in topic, sometimes thought provoking in content and never targeted detrimentally towards a person, community, age group, gender, religious affiliation, etc.  When I write, everything is in play and nothing is off limits.

If I single out an occurrence or a circumstance I encountered, it is with the intention to maybe, just maybe, change something for the better.

If you choose to read between the lines, tell me what you are reading.  I’m not a “write between the lines” girl.  It’s not my style.  I may not spell something out to perfection, but a decent writer leaves at least a tidbit of discernment and conclusion to the imagination of the reader.

If you find fault with my writings, please contact me privately, as has occurred on occasion.  If you deduce malice in my words, please take a step back and realize I am attempting to create a safe and supportive environment.  Does this mean I won’t poke fun generally?  Of course not!!  I am not a rigid person nor do I intend to advocate rigidity.  I poke fun at myself in many of my missives through the voice of the text moderator usually found in quotation marks.

I will speak up in defense of my work; understanding that not all interpretations are as intended.  That’s your prerogative so cogitate away.

I hope you will continue to follow my writings and will contact me should you have misgivings about any of the content.  I will do my level best to provide clarity of purpose to you.

As always, Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro