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there’s never enough time in the day Kristi Horner

I’m always hearing from caregivers that there’s never enough time in the day to do what needs to be done, not to mention setting aside time for self-care. It’s true that the “to do” list for caregivers can seem to be never-ending, and that can lead to additional anxiety and stress.

But let’s take some advice from interior designer Amanda Gates: “Exhaustion is not a status symbol or a badge of honor. Stop the glorification of busy, and learn to nurture your soul.”

Trying to multitask can make it even worse, resulting in lower productivity and less efficiency. When you multitask, you are actually shifting your attention from one task to another, which makes it difficult to tune out distractions and actually slows down your mental processing.

That’s why time management is so important to self-care. The ability to plan and control how you spend your time can be critical in helping you accomplish your goals, and this can help reduce your feelings of frustration and stress.

So, here are some simple tips that may help you manage your time more effectively:

  • Use a “to do” list or a weekly/monthly calendar/planner.
  • Prioritize.
  • Break your lists down into small manageable tasks.
  • Identify your distractions, and then manage or eliminate them.
  • Take breaks.
  • Strive for progress, not perfection.

It also may help to think of time management as being composed of three elements: setting goals, prioritizing tasks, and planning.

Where would we be without goals? Our goals reflect our personal vision for what we aspire to do, to be, or to become. Without goals we might just be wandering through life. I believe your goals need to start with your “why” – your passions and your vision for your life. When you truly know your “why,” you’re apt to make better decisions on how you spend your time.

Once you understand what’s at your core, in your heart and soul, it becomes easier to prioritize so that you’re spending most of your time on what’s important to you. Prioritizing your “to do” list helps you plan better, and if you have your calendar and due dates under control, it’s easier to prioritize what you need to do today.

Finally, remember that one of your priorities should always be YOU. If that’s not the case, then it’s time to re-prioritize. You should always have a place on your “to do” list, and why not at the top?

Kristi Horner
Founder and Executive Director
Courage to Caregivers

L’shanah Tova with Love

9/13/20
SUNDAY
We are preparing to celebrate using new virtual methods, Rosh Hashannah.  The other day I read a Facebook message and someone from my generation (growing up in the 50s and 60s,) asked how many of us remember getting new Fall Outfits for Yom Tov?  Often they were wool or something very warm despite the temperatures that may influence something less, but it was September/October and we must be dressed appropriately for the Jewish New Year.  I remember one year my mother sewed me a black & white hounds-tooth wools suit and I got this corduroy black corduroy hat that today has the 60s written all over it.

Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur were traditionally spent in shul, while my parents sat in the synagogue with all the other parents and grandparents, the three of us went to youth services and met up with our parents when their services ended.  It was a solemn day of reflection and it also was a time to show off your best and make your parents proud.

After services on Rosh Hashannah, we would either walk home with friends or pack into my dad’s car for the short 5-minute drive home.  Once home, the men in the family took off their jackets and loosened their ties, but we all remain in holiday finery.  I would help my mother serve the traditional foods like homemade chicken soup with noodle kugel, and course after course I would jump up to assist.  Momma made a tzimmis (a carrot, honey, prune sweet side-dish), sweet and sour meatballs, a sweet kugel with raisins, brisket, and or a roasted chicken (and sometimes we would go to the Shechitah days before to pick out our live chicken and watch the Rabbi, kill it, bless it, and make it kosher.)  Can You Say Tradition?

That was Rosh Hashannah and ten days later for Yom Kipur again we would have our traditional meal before attending Kol Nidre Services.  Much was the same as the week before, but in our home, my mother added Kreplach to the meal (a Jewish Ravioli.)  After filling ourselves up to the gills with food, we began our 24 hour fast for the Day of Atonement.  And just like Rosh Hashannah, my parents sat in the main chapel while my brothers and I went to youth services.

I miss those days – those were the days when my paternal grandparents attended our Shul and they were part of our inner circle, and years before my mother’s parents would join us for the break the fast 24 hours later.  Again, break the fast was centered around food, fresh bagels, and rolls with condiments including LOX, also my mother baked Mandel Bread, Chocolate Chip Cookies, a yeast coffee cake.  Food brought us together after a day of repenting.

Many of those traditions faded for me when I got married and moved away.  It took me over 36 years to find a Temple where I feel accepted.  However, this year I will not be able to sit in the sanctuary with my new family of Temple Friends I will be sharing in a zoom service like so many of us due to COVID.  However, I hope and pray next year we can feel safe in coming together as one, and as we say at the end of the Yom Kippur service, “Next Year in Jerusalem,” May we say next year in our Temple/Shul.

2020 or 5780 has not been the best year of my life, nor the worst.  However, I pray that 5781 will bring new peace to OUR LIVES so we may live in harmony.  Even those of us who sing off Key should be appreciated for the value we bring to this world.  We must make this year the first step to doing this and making it an everlasting journey for those that follow.

I ushered in 5780 last year with my Temple Israel Akron family.  Sadly, too soon after that COVID crept into our lives and turned things upside down.  However, if I have learned nothing else as I turned 70 in March, I am responsible for my feelings that can contribute to my happiness or sadness, and I have chosen Happiness!  I have spent the last year reaching out and making new friends and relationships.  I have continued to follow my dreams with newcleveleandradio.net.  I have been a support system for my family encouraging them to follow their dreams and not settle because someone has told them to.  I will go into the new yeat 5781 with new hopes and dreams and I will take the steps forward because that is what life is all about.

To all who may be reading this whether you observe the Jewish Holiday or not, know that I believe in you and all the good you too will put forth in the days to come.

L’Shanah Tova!

 

Love, Karen KIKI

#AGE Magnificently (AGEMARCH.ORG)- Barbara Rose Brooker

As I borrow the tag line from AGEMARCH.org and the founder, Barbara Rose Brooker, #AgeMagnificently, I challenge you to become the best YOU.  By becoming the best versions of ourselves we allow ourselves to be open to the opinions of others and dialogue rather than argue or fight!  We are all products of our environment, we bring to the table not only cultural differences but the interpretations of the culture we have (and are) experiencing.

My Jewish upbringing as a Conservative Jew is not necessarily the same as another who may identify as the same.  Growing up my parent’s kept a Kosher home, however, on Pizza nights we all sat around eating Pepperoni Pizza off Paper Plates because my parents created their personal interpretation of the Kosher Laws.  However, my Baube and Zayde would have said we were creating a ‘SHANDAH’ or a SCANDAL!

Whether my parents were right or wrong in the eyes of my maternal grandparents, they chose to create their version of keeping kosher.

Today we are living in a global society full of tags – we all need a tag line to be identified and often the tag lines do not give us enough information.  They are often like sound bites that do not give us the whole story.  However, #AgeMagnificently provides us a picture that with AGE comes Magnificent if we choose it.

To be magnificent means to be “admirable in action; displaying great power or opulence, especially in building, way of living, and munificence. Magnificent(adj) grand in appearance; exhibiting grandeur or splendor; splendid’ pompous.”  However, leaving out pompous, we can be admirable in our actions if we accept that all people are created with goodness, some may need a little more guidance than others.  Opulence does not necessarily reflect wealth but the rich and kindness of one’s personality.  We can all build a world of fairness that will lead to the growth of FAIRNESS!  We can walk straight and tall with our heads held high without stick our noses in the air, avoiding the truth.  Facing the truth is not easy but no one said that change was easy!

If we age magnificently from birth we will no longer be judged by a number, a color, gender, sexual preference, or no preference.  Our religion will be accepted and our traditions will not be frowned upon.  We will be the BEST of OUR BEST while lending a hand to someone who may appear to be different.  It is time to accept differences and come together.

It is time to make a Change – Do it!


 

49 Years ago Today

Forty-nine years ago, I said I do for the first time. On that Sunday afternoon, I honestly thought this was a forever marriage – although as I waited behind closed doors to walk down the aisle, I had second thoughts “it was too late” to change my mind. I was more concerned about what my parents would say and how I could explain this to anyone, even myself. So, I walked down the aisle, sobbing on my father’s arm as my future husband was waiting for me with his parents.
In Yiddish, if this is your destiny, it is said to be, beshert. Sadly, this marriage was not meant to last. We went into it caring for each other and trying to please our parents by finding a Jewish Mate. His parents never liked me, and my parents never felt a connection with him.
However, if not for that day in 1971, we would not share our son, and Steve is the icing on the cake.
We eventually found our soulmates, and despite the early years of anxiety and tension between us, we moved on, putting the past behind us and enjoying the lives we detoured and created. We both celebrated 36 years of marriage to our soulmates this year.
The reason I am sharing this story today is to let you know that even when we think we are on the right road, it is possible to take several turns that will lead you in a new direction.
The direction you choose to take may create changes for others in your path and but it should be by personal choice to live our best lives. Too often, we try to please others, hoping that it will reflect on us, creating an aurora of happiness. However, making someone happy does not always make you happy, it may happen in love songs and movies, but it does not always relate to real life!
Forty-nine years ago, today, I had no idea what my future looked like. I knew I was saying “I Do,” but I was too young and naive to understand what that would mean as time moved forward. However, today with hindsight, I can look at the years that have passed and know that I am where I should be today. I have matured in becoming an authentic version of myself.

A Must Read from Barbara Rose Brooker

You have 1 free story left this month. 

Nothing Works

Barbara Rose Brooker

Jul 25 · 5 min read

hate technology.

Nothing works. I’ve done nothing today. Not only do I have virus anxiety, but the only thing that works is my TV, which is on twenty four seven, reporting the rise of virus cases, and deaths. Even Alexa isn’t working. When I shout “Alexa!” there’s silence. She’s not working.

Anyway, it’s the middle of the night and I hear loud talking. My heart racing, sure that there’s a break in, I press the 911 panic button on my phone. In fifteen minutes, three burly police officers with keys clinking from their belts, arrive at my apartment. Shaking, I’m ranting someone is in the apartment, hiding. “I heard talking! Someone is hiding!” I repeat.

“Hey! Lady! It’s Alexa,” sighs a tired looking officer, looking at me as if I’m nuts. “You need to get Alexa fixed!”

As the weeks pass in mostly quarantine, I spend hours on Google, taking notes on technology, calling tech friends with questions, but they always say they’re in the middle of a Zoom meeting.

Still, nothing works.

If I scramble eggs on my fairly new stove, the fire alarm goes off, and then the tenants run down the stairs, yelling “Fire!” Now they give me dirty looks. Not to mention my pandemic anxiety. Obsessively, I worry if I get the virus and end up dying, my poor fifty something kids will have to face time me to say goodbye, and in the middle of our conversation, an 800 number will interrupt our call and my phone will go dead.

My tech anxiety is so bad that I’ve doubled my shrink zoom sessions. Even sending an attachment, I break into a cold sweat. My printer doesn’t work and sometimes my TV sticks on Netflix and the same movie stays frozen. No matter what I do, what buttons I press on the several remotes, nothing works.

You have to understand that I’m from the typewriter generation. I yearn for my little pink business cards printed with one telephone number on it. Now business cards have lists of links and Apps.

As the pandemic rages, and my anxiety grows, I have a recurrent nightmare: I’m lost. I’m driving. It’s dark, the road is thin, and as I drive, the road is thinner, and below, a vast dark green ocean is ready to swallow me and the car won’t stop. My cell phone is attached to the little hook on my belt but it only has ten percent battery juice left in it, so I call 911. A recording comes on, and my phone dies. I wake shaking. I look at the vase filled with yellow roses my daughter sent and I smell the fog floating from the open window and I’m glad I’m alive.

Never will the world be what it was. You never can go back. But I need to work, make money, need to develop social networking skills. Zooming has replaced the telephone, skype, and e-mailing. Recently, I was zooming on this hot national TV show and the host was promoting my latest novel, when my land phone rang, and the computer screen went dark. The producer called on my cell phone, shouting that I have to shut the phones off and that I “fucked up” their show.

Today, I have a pitch meeting with an LA network producer. He and his colleagues are interested in one of my books for a TV series. I’ve been in this game many times but I’m a fame whore and I won’t give up.

I wear a turtleneck and weave two black ostrich feathers into my long brown silver streaked hair. I glam up. I take a deep breath. It’s time. I click the zoom link. Wham! The little green camera is lit. A blast of music. Boom! Bubsy Jacobs about forty something, thin as a pipe, stands next to a huge rocket ship. “I’m virtual.” He laughs.

The head producer they call Ro Ro, short for Rothman, says with a yawn, that the network “loves,” my project. I’m sure he has never read my book. He has a large face and tiny distracted eyes.

Epic Glassman, about thirty and gorgeous, in a bored monotone, gushes how much she loves Should I Sleep In His Dead Wife’s Bed, and that she read it “head to toe.” She pauses, her round blue eyes behind huge chic round glasses, glaring. “However,” she continues in her voice soft as a gnat, “ I would like to see your protagonist Heather do something besides look for love. Also, she needs to be …younger?” She presses her full pale lips, disapprovingly.

I take a deep breath. “Well, first, her name is Lisa. And I want to keep her at sixty-five. She’s a Phd psychologist, researching the sex lives of men over sixty. She wants more than work. She wants love and fights ageism and sexism.”

“How do we know this?” she asks, impatiently.

“It’s on the first page,” I reply. “You’re in her office. She has a patient. It’s right there.”

“Who do you see playing the part?“ Ro Ro asks quickly.

“Diane Keaton,” I reply.

“Too old,” Epic says, with a bored sigh.

“I agree,” says Ro Ro. “The old actresses are in Rehab or in assisted living.” Just as I’m about to reply that his reason is ageist and sexist, and that I won’t let the networks change my work, I realize that my audio is off and I can’t hear them, nor can they hear me, and their faces are frozen on my computer screen. Frantically, I’m looking for the un-mute tiny red arrow, but when I click the arrow, the screen goes black.

The pandemic rages on. My anxiety continues.

“Mom. I put money in your Venmo app,” says my daughter on the phone. “It’s a gift. You didn’t get your unemployment.”

“Venmo?”

“My husband put the app on your phone! The money goes directly into your account. It’s a three-hundred dollar gift. No one smart goes into banks anymore.”

“Wow, thank you, “I say, thinking I’ll have extra money this month.

The weeks pass and I’m thinking I have three hundred dollars extra in my account. Whoopee! I buy shampoo, books, a New Yorker membership. Until I check my Citibank account and not only am I overdrawn but checks bounced.

“It can’t. You made a mistake!” I shout at the customer service man. He has a heavy accent and I keep saying, “What? What do you mean the money isn’t there? I have Venmo. Citi Bank has to make this good!”

“Venmo is not a bank. Venmo transfers your money into your Citibank account. I will talk you through.”

“So why do I need Venmo?” I shout. “I could walk to the bank.”

“Bank closed. Pandemic.Now go to your venmo App. I help you.”

Perspiring , I try to follow him as he instructs me step by step. But when I press my password’s tiny letters , a Reset Password bar pops up. I’m not breathing.

“Try again,” he says,patiently. I try again.

Again.

Again.

Finally a little bar says you are now transferred to Citi Bank. You will receive an e-mail.

“Success!” he says. “You see. You can do it.”

Every day, I’m zooming, apping, instagramming. I go on the singles sites. Some dudes have passwords to get on their zoom accounts, others sit in virtual atmospheres, their faces strangely young as they use Google Virtual for to erase lines, bags, wrinkles.

Nothing works.

To be continued.

BarbaraRoseBrooker/author of her latest novel Love, Sometimes, published Feb 2020, Post Hill Press/Simon Schuster

Brooker is working on The Corona Diaries and Other Things. Her national TV appearances, and podcasts The Rant are on You Tube and www.barbararosebrooker.com

Barbara Rose Brooker

WRITTEN BY

Barbara Rose Brooker, author/teacher/poet/MFA, published 13 novels. Her latest novel, Feb 2020, Love, Sometimes, published by Post Hill Press/Simon Schuster.

Welcome BACK BASEBALL 2020

June 23, 2020

THE DAY THE MLB OWNERS AND TEAMS AGREED TO PLAY!

“Major League Baseball’s owners have approved a restart plan for MLB and, in keeping with the acrimony and suspicion between management and the players we’ve seen for the past three months, sent it as more or less an ultimatum to the players association. But it does mean the sport is coming back.”

 

I have always enjoyed the game of baseball.  I grew up in Detroit and my introduction to baseball was the Detroit Tigers.  Although we didn’t go to many games back in the day my Father either listened to the game on his AM Radio or we watched in on our Black & White TV.  During my teens, we lived in Minneapolis and I felt like a trader rooting for the Minnesota Twins, but Harmon Killebrew played for them and my dad’s name was Harmon, so became loyal to them only to feel torn when in 1968 we moved back to the home of the Tigers.

During my lifetime, I have lived in cities with other teams such as the Phillies, the Reds, and the Indians!  My first introduction to the Indians was in the late eighties or early nineties when they were still playing at Municipal Stadium.  My husband and I were invited by one of his clients to attend a game and party in a Logue.  Well everyone else partied (assuming the Indians would lose which was their pattern at that time,) I sat and watched the game rooting for the home team.

In 1994 as I traveled for business one night when I called home, my youngest son Alex who as 4 years old at the time informed me he was watching the Oreos on TV and he couldn’t talk to me.  After he hung up on me very abruptly I called back and his father told me that Alex was mesmerized by the baseball game and was intently watching it.  That was the beginning of true love in our home!  Ever since the summer evening, Alex has gravitated and absorbed the game that it is difficult not to enjoy his love for the purity of the sport.

COVID19 has hit us all hard and baseball not starting on time in March has been difficult on many (but it is very apparent here in our home.)  You see Alex always wanted to play baseball and despite the lessons he took and his knowledge of the game past and present, some obstacles (COACHES) stood in his way.  However, his dream has always been to work for the Cleveland Indians.  Two years ago that dream came true and although he is working his way through the system for him it’s not just working because when he is at Progressive Field he feels complete!

However, this horrible virus has meant he is out of work along with many others working for Major League team, however, he plans on returning when the opportunity avails itself.  Now that an agreement has been met he is all smiling because he will at minimum be able to follow his team and the sport he loves.  I too am smiling again because despite being from Detroit, and once rooting for Twins, Phillies, and Reds, my love and devotion go out to the Cleveland Indians.

I don’t want to wish the summer away but I cannot wait till they take the field at the end of July so I can, “Root, Root, Root for MY HOME TEAM.  GO INDIANS!

 

Sharon Allen DeMakes thanks for this POEM

First they came for the communists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me

And there was no one left to speak for me.

– Pastor Martin Niemoeller

Am I in a TIME WARP?

Saturday, May 2, 2020
It Should be Kentucky Derby Day

It’s another Saturday in this new Pandemic World.  I am fortunate to have somewhat of a schedule for newclevelandradio.net during the week, recording and preparing podcasts.  However, most weekends seem to zap me of energy as the days drag on with little to do.  However, today is different.  My husband and I did some closet cleaning in the studio/office this morning as we are attempting to do some reorganization.  Now if you have ever been in the home studio I will tell you that my husband is a pack-rat, not a hoarder.  I think we have three or four end of life computers in the closet and one set out in the room.  As my hubby would say, you never know we just may need parts from one to fix another.  Did I mention parts that go back to a Commodore 64?  If you have no idea what that is, you are very young indeed.

Additionally, I have two podcasts today and both should be fun and interesting.  The first is with Just4theSpellofIt.com, lead by Gary Moss my big brother.  Isn’t it interesting that we call an older sibling our big brother or sister, and the truth is I am as tall as he is or maybe taller?  Gary’s podcast is all about words and Scrabble™, yet the techniques he uses teaches and creates to become a better Scrabble™ player, any one of us can use to become better at anything we want to achieve.  The second is with Rick Bolton, musician extraordinaire.

Currently, I am trying to achieve patience with the #StaySafe #StayAtHome orders.  I agree with the orders and I would rather be safe and struggle financially than get this horrid virus and possibly die.  I understand the need to get back to work, earn a living, and feel accomplished at the end of the day, but COVID19 has invaded us and it will linger and combust again in the Fall.

Earlier today I posted ion Facebook that I feel like I am in a time warp, that each day is the same, nothing changes, and yet the slogan #WEAREINTHISTOGETHER continues to play through the media.  Together but alone and that is what is warping my senses.  I need to chill and breathe and make it to the tomorrow and the many days after that when it is safer to spin out of this feeling.

Have a Happy!

It’s Getting to ME!

Like many of you, I did not expect that hunkering down would be easy, but I also did not expect my emotions to rise and fall numerous times during the day. However, my reality is more like living on a teeter-totter than a roller coast. When something sends me to the top, I feel my heart beating extra fast, numbness in my dangling feet, and tension in my arms as I hold on with a fear of heights and falling. Yet, when I lower myself and touch the ground, I feel as if I am being pushed down as my knees sink into my chest, and my head leans down, almost in a fetal position…
This is not how I expected to spend the Spring of 2020. As summer 2019 came to an end, I was making some positive life changes beginning with working out every day, developing better eating habits while finding an inner peace that helped strengthen my relationships, new and old. And then, one day, I hurt my knee, and the best-laid plans of this ‘chick’ changed overnight. Instead of working out, I was attending Physical Therapy. The weight loss and physical changes that I had made began to diminish and try as I may keep that positive attitude; it teased me with bouts of anxiety and depression.
2020 was to be the year to get my new bionic knee (total knee replacement) and return to daily workouts and redeveloping my positive plan. If you have been following my journey, you will know that I had surgery seven weeks ago, and yet I am not as recovered as I would have thought I should be or planned to be. I am having excessive nerve type pain in my knee to my ankle, and I am walking with a limp, which is throwing off my whole right-side, causing aches and pains. I think this discomfort is noticed more due to the limitations of the STAY AT HOME and BE SAFE PLAN.
This pandemic has touched all of us, and for some, it includes the loss of a parent, child, friend, or relation of someone you know. Trying to do what is right is simple, but it can feel painful, both physically and emotionally. The physical pain comes from the change in our routines, and that affects our emotional state as well. If you are like my family and me some days, you get inspired, and you do something active like cleaning out a drawer, reading a book, baking, or planting a garden.
Whatever it is, it most likely makes you feel accomplished, and that, in turn, raises your endorphins, increasing your wellness state.
It may not be easy to do something each day to provide this endorphin rush and try as I may do so, I find I am napping and vegging out, losing time to nothingness. Some nothingness is good for us, but too much can be infectious. It is not unusual for us to feel like we are riding the waves, and the rush may make us feel physically ill. However, we each have this opportunity to turn it into that “aha” moment. We can do something that erases the ills and leads us to health.
This pandemic time will end when it is supposed to end. We can do our part now to stay well, so when that day comes, we will walk out with pride and confidence for a better tomorrow.

Entertainment Should be Just That Entertainment (thanks Amy Ferris!)

Dear Hollywood,

How about no more disaster movies or bad reality shows with hosts who become Presidential candidates and decide to march us into hell, how about no more limited TV series that fill folks up with fear & worry & shaking in their boots – keeping humans under the covers for days on end. Please, no more crap about the end of the world and who’s gonna save us – fuck, man, no more of that. Please, no more dreck about millions of folks dying from pandemics and the apocalypse and for the sake of all fuck, no more movies where people are trapped in buildings and elevators and homes and cruise ships for weeks & weeks & weeks on end wishing they could see and touch and hug their loved ones. No more of that shit. No more. No more spending hundreds of millions of dollars on movies and TV series that could be spent on bringing humans joy and love and truth and a few hours of glory and grace into their hearts. There are so many fucking Heroes and SHEroes and Warriors and Goddesses and Mensches and WOmensches in the real world, so many, real ones, humans who put their lives on the line every single fucking day and none of them, not one of them, wears a cape. Those folks are wearing humanity straight out. Make movies about redemption because who the fuck doesn’t need to believe that their mistakes can turn into their mission – who doesn’t need that? Find those folks, make those movies. Make movies about the human condition – folks who scale mountains of rejections and piles of sorrow and make it to the other side and stand up tall and inspire the rest of us that we too can fulfill our dreams. People need to be inspired and encouraged – to believe in beauty and goodness again, to have hope, to find love; folks need to sit in a movie theater – or stare at their massive flat TV screen – and think: holy shit that IS me up there, that IS me. Make movies that fill humans with the belief that they too can change the world not because they need to be SuperHeroes but because they are SuperHearts.

Reality TV gave us trump, dumped him in our living rooms where he was firing folks without even so much a care in the world and look what he’s doing now – the same exact shit except we’re all paying the price of his cruelty and ignorance, and all those disaster movies – look, look… we’re all sitting in our homes wondering who we know who will die next from this horrific unbearable pandemic that is giving us all the heebie fucking jeebies, so how about throwing some compassion & hope our way, some good sexy humor, ROMComs and love stories where yes the people up on the screen are in their 50’s and 60’s and 70’s and the lines on their face are the lines we remember because they are us, how about making movies about the human spirit and the irrefutable magnificent power – the superpower – of humanity.

How about giving us some of that?

Best & warm,
Amy