Lance Armstrong and The American Truth

I joined my friend, a cyclist, and tuned into Oprah with three million others to watch Lance Armstrong's much-hyped interview. Oprah served up three hours of OWN programming for a two-segment confessional space for Armstrong to come clean.

The long and short of it was he said he lied and had used banned substances during the seven Tour de France cycling events he "won." At the time, he didn't feel he was cheating because the drugs he used to gain his competitive advantage were freely available to other riders. When Nike severed his endorsement deal, he lost $75 million in one day; and that many peoples' lives in the elite field of cycling were ruined because of his "win at any cost" philosophy.

First off, the lure of performance enhancing substances permeate our culture, whether  it's Gatorade, Red Bull, crack or Prozac, Red Bull or coffee,  Mountain Dew, cocaine, Valium or 5-Hour Energy-- the lure to stay up, calm down and do more, better persists, no matter the risks. And everyone from truck drivers and med students, to admins and CEOs have their fill.

Let me be clear, I am not excusing Armstrong and hope that justice is served. I'll never forget Marion Jones serving jail time with a nursing baby because of her lying about using performance drugs in the Olympics. Like Jones found, there's always redemption. As it is for us all.

There are those who feel jipped  for what amounts to being inspired by him. Come on. If his example made you get up off the couch or fight to survive something in your own life, can you really discount it? The effects of inspiration isn't a placebo and is the stuff miracles are made of. The feeling of being inspired was real .

But enough about Armstrong.

What I'm most perplexed about is the amount of energy and resources that went into his public reckoning for fraud that was felt primarily by an elite group of cyclists and its ancillaries.

How much more would our country be served if that same energy and attention was placed on smoking out the housing and banking cheats?

Their cheating, lies and fraud sent retirees back to work, took peoples' homes, wiped out their savings and snuffed out The American Dream for millions, the impact of which will be felt for generations to come.

I don't feel as much bamboozled by a man on a bike who sought to win at any cost as I do by the powers that be that so divert our attention and have us think such misdeeds are the ones that deserve our time.

Oprah, indeed, the truth will make us free.

$$

Potty Training and Mustangs

At work today, I ran into Randy from the mailroom. When I asked him what was his latest and greatest, he said his toddler had used his Disney Cars potty chair for the first time last night.

As a parent, I remember the elation of potty training victory for my kids and our household.

His son is motivated. He wants to go to school with his older brother. The catch is he’s got to be housebroken and wearing big boy pants.

To wit, I asked Randy if he knew about cloth training pants. He didn’t.

A disposable 50-count pack of Huggies Pull-ups run $14.77 at Wal Mart.

A cotton set of three count Gerber Baby All-in-One training pants will set you back $7.  While you’ve got to wash them, they’re good for the environment.

Most of all, my experience has been that using cotton training gear accelerates the learning process.

While the disposable variety feature elastic waistbands and pull on like regular underwear, the wetness is wicked away.

The ultra absorbent cloth underwear, on the other hand, provides just enough discomfort to urge the child back to the potty chair.

I told Randy if he’d only make the All-in-Ones part of his training arsenal he might be well on his way to saving for a car of his own!

How’s that for frugal?

$$

Mother's Day XXIII- 2012



Parenting 101

Mother's Day 2012 is my twenty-third Mother's Day. And I am grateful today for so many things: namely, having my mother still with me and three uniquely gifted young adults, my children, who are each following the paths of their lives.

At church, the pastor called all the moms to the altar for prayer. He asked that we all hold hands. In doing so, emotion washed over me as I linked hand-to-hand and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with at least a thousand other moms throughout the sanctuary.

While it's common to feel alone in one's unique concerns about and for our individual childrens' well being throughout their lives, in that moment, I felt the solidarity that informs the sorority of motherhood.

It is riddled with  pride and dissapointment; elation and sadness; hope and  despair, assuredness and desperation-- a rollercoaster of yin and yang that is tempered by an abiding faith that all indeed will be well.

The pastor encouraged all moms not to live with regrets, to release ourselves from them and to also let go of childhood hurts that can be paralyzing. He also spoke to moms who have the uneasy burden of having children who have died.

I thought of my own parenting regrets and for that moment followed the pastor's instructions and "let them go". (Parenting is not a regret-free zone.)

I soon found myself praying for a childhood friend whose son's life was ended in a car accident and for another mother whose child was sentenced to prison.

We simply never know where life will take us.

I was reminded that on the way to church, my aunt, who was driving, slammed on brakes to allow a family of  ducks to cross the road. It made me smile inside, much like the line in Alice Walker's title line in The Color Purple:

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it."
-Alice Walker, 1982

I'm convinced that nature has many lessons to teach us if we will only pay attention. If you notice ducks, the mom always walks ahead and expects her ducklings to follow. She doesn't keep prodding and reminding or looking back. She's confident that her children are okay.

And this Mother's Day, I'm going to take nature's cue and be confident that mine are and will be, too.

$$

Young Black Male

I have a 19 year old son and I stopped buying him hoodies when he was 14. He's a tall, lanky handsome kid who looks older than he is. And he's a young black male.

My son in a hoodie that I didn't buy

We were in a store one day nearly five years ago dressed for the winter. We were browsing with an aisle between us. He came around the corner with his hood on and it scared the hell out of me. He must have thought I was crazy.

"Don't you ever wear a hood in a store!" I remember it like it was yesterday. "People will view you as suspicious and up to no good."

It's lessons like that as a black parent you teach alongside tying shoes, ties, not having loud music on in your car, not taking shortcuts and jumping fences-- even if it's your own neighborhood-- and following a police officer's orders when-- not if-- you get stopped.

My son was home from college a few weeks ago sporting a nappy fro and sagging basketball shorts.
I implored him to cut his hair. Our conversation:


It's about perception, son...you'll want your appearance to give you the benefit of the doubt. All anyone sees is their first impression of you.

But Ma, there are bad people walking around in suits and ties and I'm a good person.

You're right, but when anyone encounters you all that registers is young, black male.

They don't know that he's smart, witty and charming, that he'd rather watch Cartoon Network than Spike TV, could eat a carton of eggs a day and  enjoys having a cup of hot tea with honey.

No. All anyone sees is young black male. And my prayers never cease for him though I don't have much face time with him these days since he's away in school. Away in school...

But did you know that 1 in 3 Black males born today can expect to spend time in jail or prison? The hyperincarceration of Black males is a moral crisis.

That the lives of young black males are so devalued and marginalized is crystallized in the Trayvon Martin case. This incident where George Zimmerman, the self-appointed Neighborhood Watch captain murdered Martin, a 17-year old young black male armed with Skittles and a can of Arizona tea happened not 30 miles from me.

I'm sure I speak for many Black mothers of sons. This case pierces my heart. Sabrina Fulton, his mother is living our nightmare.I grieve for her and with her. When she says she wants the murderer  brought to justice, I know it's shock talking. She's caught up in a media firestorm. What she really wants is her son back.

No one wants to be a cautionary tale. However I believe her innocent son's murder will make some young black males heed their parents' warnings. They don't live in a colorblind society, though many think racism is past tense and that racial profiling is a figment of their parents' 60's-era imaginations. All the "nagging" and hyper caution that parents preach may be more resonant with them because they know who Trayvon Martin is.

I'm sad and I'm angry as are many. Often this combination is a catalyst for mobilization and change. The question is always where do you start?

Count me as one who wants Zimmerman charged with Trayvon Martin's senseless murder.

I'm  also angered at the NBC's Today Show Matt Lauer's callous questioning of Ms. Fulton where he refers to Zimmerman and Martin's encounter as one between "two men." He asks if Trayvon was agitated or if there were circumstances going on in his life that would have somehow made him culpable in his own death at the hands of Zimmerman. What's more he spent a great deal of the interview time recounting Zimmerman's fathers Orlando Sentinel piece stating that his son is not racist having grown up in a multiracial family. The interview should have been about Trayvon, the victim not propping up the perpetrator.

Life is cheap; it only costs one bullet. But this is a shot that was heard around the world.

So what do I do? Hug my son tighter. Encourage another mother's son to walk upright and take off his hoodie.

I also implore the media to paint their pictures of young black males with a broader brush and a more vibrant palette than orange jumpsuits and in hoodies up to no good.

These sorry images stack the deck against young black males like Trayvon Martin and my son too. Content of character, not color of skin-- some dreams never die.

Quitters Never Win Winners Never Quit

 

 

per·se·ver·ance

   /ˌpɜrsəˈvɪərəns/ Show Spelled[pur-suh-veer-uhns] Show IPA

noun

1.

steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.

2.

Theology . continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.

 

quit

¹    /kwɪt/ Show Spelled [kwit] Show IPA verb, quit or quit·ted, quit·ting, adjective

verb (used with object)

1.

to stop, cease, or discontinue

2.

to give up or resign; let go; relinquish: to release one's hold of (something grasped).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When was the last time you won something? Not according to your personal best but just all out won against real opponents?

 

The elation of the winners of SuperBowl 46 got me to thinking and thinking and thinking.

 

I won a scholarship contest back in 1989. I won an all expense paid stipend to earn my masters degree in 2010. I won a job in a tumultuous economy just last year.

 

And then I remembered--I caught the winning ball in my church's competitive softball league more than seven years ago! After years of couch potato-dom I joined the team with women who were much younger and athletic, who had gloves that were broken in, pitches that still curved over the plate and balance that helped them run the bases without falling.

 

Me? I suffered with shin splints and could barely run at all. Once a great pitcher, I had nothing left in my arm, plus I was at least a decade older than my teammates. Night games were the worst. An outfielder-- okay a right fielder (sometimes second baseman)  I saw nada. Age aint nothing but a number when it comes to some things, but this wasn't one of them.

 

But I stuck it out. I didn't quit.

 

The joy it gave me to push through the pain and ice my shins at night compelled me to arrive at practice early while the superstars of the team barely came at all. It indeed was my personal best that had me come back again and again even though I was probably the eighth batter or thereabouts.

 

The championship game was played at nighttime. And I was playing second base. The score was close and the opposing team was up at bat. All I remember was coming up with the catch that won the game.

 

There was no Gatorade bath or confetti drop. I wasn't hoisted on any shoulders or chest bumped. Coach Skinner said he was proud of me.

 

"You got heart, girl," is what he said. All along he'd encouraged and pushed me to press through what I thought were my limits. I knew I had the heart to do so but hadn't tested it in awhile in true competition.

 

Perhaps that's why there's seldom a better metaphor than sports for what it takes to "win."  

 

Always a team player, I subscribe to the philosophy at work that it doesn't matter who gets the credit as long as the team wins. In the work space that has meant that often my work was credited to others. ( LinkedIn makes it readily apparent that this is so.)

 

"Rewards" that were given-- if awarded by merit alone-- that should have come to me often didn't. I said to a former supervisor, I think my work should speak for itself. She told me I was naive to think so and that I needed to claim it. I've yet to find that happy medium. Is it really naive to think that one's work should speak for itself? (I do know that it's critical to have champions at work.)

 

But in that moment with the ball barely in my glove like the Manningham catch in SuperBowl 46, there was no doubt that I really did win. And no one could have been prouder than me.

 

I won because I didn't quit.

 

$$

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy New Year

So I'd planned to run in the Disney marathon this year. It's in less than 30 days and I simply didn't train to prepare for it. I'm a little disappointed but not so much because I know how to fix it and be ready for the next one.


When you fail to plan you plan to fail. Cliche. But oh so true.

Looking back at old journals and calendars I see that I really did and have accomplished most of the things that I took the time to write down and follow up on.

This year I promise myself to do that to a much greater degree. I'll use my smart phone to keep me honest.

Big this year for me will be to complete the screenplay I started in August 2011 on Harriet Tubman, publish at least 10 greeting cards for distribution and finish my third gift book: "Life Is Not a Dress Rehearsal."

Accountability is key...so I'm counting on you to keep me honest. Check back with me quarterly to check my progress and I'll do the same for you if you make yourself available.

Let's get it done!

Happy 2012.

ZB

Make A List and Check It Twice

It's the most wonderful time of the year. And here in Florida the harbinger of Christmas, the Salvation Army bell ringer, was out dressed in shorts, the season seems to have gotten here so fast.

At a bustling shopping center in Jacksonville called St. Johns Town Center where Louis Vuitton is across the street from Forever 21, shoppers of all ilk were out en masse. I'm thinking "What recession?"

If consumer spending is the litmus test for an improving economy, keep that test strip away from me. All I bought that day was a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of pumpkin bread with a Starbucks gift card I'd had in my wallet for months and a pair of  really cute .95-cent holiday-themed socks from Forever 21 (only because my feet got cold).

Back when I was married and didn't speak up as much as I should, I would follow my ex's lead buying gifts we couldn't afford. I'm an only child of a single parent. He was from a huge family of four siblings with 12 kids between them. And instead of family gifts he insisted that we buy gifts for every one of them.

My family pulled names and had been doing so for years. Not that crew. When I suggested pulling names, you  would've thought I'd said let's shoot Santa.

Which brings me back to the recession...

This is the time of year, great because of the cheer that most people feel at wrapping up another year, looking forward to having a little time off, seeing friends and family and the occassional holiday party.

Yet it's also fraught with expectations, often unrealized and sometimes unattainable, that can lead to disappointment, hurt, sadness and debt.

Children of divorce feel torn when being with one parent means they're absent from the other. Hurts and letdowns from Christmases past are revived-- the bomber jacket Dad promised and never delivered. Elderly people in nursing homes who depend on the kindness of strangers are often forgotten.

People who struggle mightily with finances throughout the year feel especially bad when they cannot provide the Christmas we've been conditioned to aspire to from time immemorial.

If I have learned one thing it is don't  go into the new year paying for this year's holiday gifts. And I challenge you to do that.

Give some thought to the reason for the season.

Make a nice meal together with your family. Invite or share that meal with someone who would be alone. Plan to volunteer and serve meals at your local shelter or mission. Do something for someone else who needs it.

Less is less, not "more" and that's a good thing-- less stress, less paper in landfills, less food wasted and plain old less time spent consuming means more time and resources available to share or create traditions, have crucial conversations and make plans for the new year.

Simply put, be real about where you are financially and where you need to be. Let that guide your spending.

Give the gift of your time or an experience versus a thing. Create a memory that lasts a lifetime.

Encourage and have discussions around debt-free living. Planting that seed with someone you love has value beyond measure that will last this season and throughout a lifetime.

$$

Christmas Tree Giveaway 7800 US HWY 17/92 Fern Park FL

This year the holiday season is projected to be hard on many families. Did you see the "60 Minutes" expose on America's New Poor?

The new poor are families who once gave to food banks that they are now depending on to supplement their budgets. Some are even eligible for food stamp benefits.

Other poor and working poor families live with levels of deprivation throughout the year that many of us cannot imagine.

In Fern Park FL, the merchants at the Mainstreet Square Shopping Center are pitching in to add some Christmas cheer. Here's how:

When you spend just $75 between November 25-December 2 at any of the stores in the shopping plaza, you'll receive a free Christmas tree!

Contact 407-260-5628 for info on free tree giveaway while supplies last.
Spend $75 with merchants at the Mainstreet Square Shopping Center
November 25-December 2
7800 U.S. Highway 17/92, Fern Park, FL

Inside the plaza is a Winn Dixie, Goodwill, nail shop, pizza, a Cuban cafe and several other retailers. It's stuff you need and would buy anyway. It's definitely worth it to drive a little out of your way for this deal.

So grab some coupons, make your list (check it twice) and make your dollars and time count.

It's a small, but meaningful way people are helping people.

After all, that's what it's all about. Remember the reason for the season.

$$

Hometown Celebs Serve Smiles and Hope for Free

Mike Thomas and Darryl Smith of the NFL Jaguars franchise bring smiles and give  'graphs to fans at Jax Winn Dixie.

There were no big I's and little you's at a neighborhood Winn Dixie store when NFL players Darryl Smith and Mike Thomas from the Jacksonville Jaguars posted up in the fresh produce section to chat it up and sign autographs.

Win/Win fan meets fave player, player meets a fan who wears his jersey

I remember the first famous person I met. It was in fourth grade and Muhammad Ali came to Daytona Beach FL to do a benefit for a local Boys & Girls Club. It's the only autograph I've ever asked for and I still have it more than three decades later.

 

Few athletes have leveraged their cache the way Ali did. He spoke out and spoke up on the social issues of the day. He was front and center in the Civil Rights Movement.

Simply put, he made a difference.

And that's exactly what Mike Thomas did at this signing. A father came up to him with a picture Mike had taken with his son at another event to have it signed. Turns out the son has a degenerative bone disease and has had to undergo multiple surgeries. Mike got on the phone with the kid -- delight for both son and dad. Then he took it a step further, asking one of the organizers to ping him when the kid goes into the hospital his next go round so he can visit.

Small thing? I don't think so.

There's always room for "the greatest" in each of us and we all have the opportunity to build that one encounter at a time.

$$



One Thing You Must Afford: To Leave An Abusive Relationship

1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

National Center for Domestic Violence

I'm mad as hell after so many deaths in the news this week as a result of domestic violence. Four women are dead, plus one is missing with suspected foul play. These women were young, old, rich, poor, white, black and brown.

I don't know that they stayed in these relationships because they thought they couldn't afford to leave. But very often you'll hear finances are a reason many abused women choose to stay.

Truth is, you can't afford not to leave.

Starting over with "nothing" can seem a bleak prospect. But it can be done.  There's help. Ask and keep asking.

The National Center for Domestic Violence helpline is a great place to start 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

A millionaire builder convicted of shooting his wife to death will be sentenced at a later time.

http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/local/crime/os-bob-ward-speaks-20111020,0,7210126.story

An abuser called 911 to report he'd set his girlfriend on fire.

http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/local/breakingnews/os-gay-nell-court-fire-20111107,0,7632094.story

A woman who was living at her place of employment because she was abused-- a dry cleaners-- was found dead.

http://www.wftv.com/news/news/woman-found-dead-inside-orange-county-dry-cleaner/nFXj5/

A young woman, en route to a custody hearing, is now missing for nearly a week now.

http://www.wftv.com/news/news/missing-mothers-ex-boyfriend-returns-osceola-count/nFX8k/

$$

Mike the Plumber Dishes on How to Prevent Clogged Drains (and Stop Calling Him)

So here I am in my newly-renovated kitchen and already, I've had the plumber out three times to unclog my kitchen sink-- the garbage disposal to be exact-- since its completion in February.

Like that old hip bone connected to the thigh bone connected to the leg bone song, plumbing nowadays connects sink, disposal and dishwasher, under my sink anyway. I had a three-artery, weekend clog.

It's said that the third time is the charm and this morning was call #3.



"Hot water is not good for plastic pipes." -Mike the Plumber

I was told to be sure and ask the plumber if it needed to be replumbed. Thank goodness, Mike says it doesn't. And I'd followed the tips I'd been given from the previous two visits to eliminate clogs.

$225 later, here's hoping what Mike told me will help you avoid a call to your plumber altogether.

1. Don't put stringy vegetables in the disposal. These include celery, asparagus and banana peels to name a few.

2. Use citrus peels to disinfect and keep disposal clog free.

According to Mike, the oils in the  citrus help to break down grease and dissolve cloggy   
stuff before it ever takes root. Don't, however dispose of the entire flesh of the citrus in the disposal. The membranes that separate citrus sections belong in the "stringy" category.

3. Periodically grind ice cubes in the disposal to keep machinery free of debris.

I'd read somewhere that ice sharpens the blades.Not true according to Mike who says the hardness of the ice actually helps dislodge any crud that's stuck in  the system.

4. Never pour boiling hot water down the drain.

This was counter-intuitive to me as I am accustomed to running hot water. Mike says he was curious about the many calls he would get from homes with leaking disposals. True to his craft, he contacted the manufacturer who said that hot water was the culprit. Since most plumbing is made of PVC, the joints are glued and high temps melt the glue joints over time. Hot water also causes grease to liquefy and cause clogs.

5. Avoid putting coffee grounds down the disposal. Ditto for egg shells.

Mike says anywhere the pipes curve and turn horizontal is a  potential place for solids--like coffee grounds and eggshells-- to lodge and eventually cause a clog.

6. Don't use Draino and other caustic plumbing aids.

Okay so I'm thinking if I use Draino, that cuts into a plumber's calls which is why each of the two times I called each of the plumbers, each one, including Mike, said  "Don't use Draino." Maybe that is why, maybe it's not. I didn't this last time. Actually a web article I read says harsh chemicals corrode pipes and blades over time.

7. Keep plastic wraps and bags away from the disposal.

They are among the top cloggers that result in a call to the plumber. (This was my call #1.)

8. Chase anything you flush down the disposal with copious amounts of cold water.

Mike says that essentially drain lines are meant to carry liquids. Therefore anything solid
has to be flushed. And for the record, be sure that the water you're using is plenty cold.

When I asked Mike if I could take a picture of him for this blog post, he asked if I'd ruin his participation in the witness protection plan. To which I replied, I certainly hope not.

$$

On another note regarding another plumber...remember Joe (the Plumber) who became the poster boy for the last John McCain presidential campaign? Well, he wasn't a plumber at all and is actually entertaining a bid for the U.S. House of Reps according to a 11/25/2011 news story.

Stopping Shopping as a Way-to-Save Strategy

I don't always plan meals or have a list when I visit the grocery store. Without one I'll roam the aisles and shop with my eyes.

Bad move.

As a result, my cabinets, freezer, pantry and fridge are often flush with things that I haven't used in several shopping trips. That's one of the surest routes to waste.

Did you know that, on average, an American family of four wastes 122 pounds of food monthly? This information graphic published in a 2008 New York Times article really packs a punch:

By using what you have and not wasting food, not only are you saving money, you're saving the planet. I hadn't considered the methane gas and other impacts of discarded food until writing this post. Having done so, I'm really on a mission.

Another way I've found to curb spending is to put a moratorium on food shopping until I've exhausted what I have on hand. While that sounds intuitive, how many times in a week or month do you shop because you have a taste for something special?

Still counting? Okay, try nipping that in the bud for 30 days. That's right, give yourself 30 days to use everything you already have for meal preparation.

If you're like me, a trip to the store for anything almost always results in one more of something. Staying out of the stores saves in so many ways. Let me count the ways...

Really, give this a try. Make it an adventure-- pairing foods you might not otherwise. Ever eat a breakfast meal at dinner time? Go ham. Break the rules. Remember to raid the spices too!

Use the imaginuity of recipe websites like Supercook. You simply input the ingredients you have on hand and it returns recipes using just those.

To get started, take an inventory of everything you have in your kitchen. Everything. Examine each fridge and freezer shelf. Leave no potato bin unturned or pantry shelf untouched.

You on it?

I'm on it, doggone it!

Another step closer to a fat wallet and skinny waist,

-Zoe

$$

Red Laser Bar Code App Puts Comparison Shopping @ Your Fingertips

What if you could scan a product and compare its price in stores nearby. Okay that was easy. Of course you can!

Now, what if the store nearest you would match their competitor's price? Many, if not most, will and do.

For example, my handy friend (my handyman is my friend) bought a doorknob set at Home Depot. Upon scanning it with my Red Laser app, I found that the same set was available at the neighborhood Ace Hardware for $6 less.

My handy friend buys lots of doorknob sets. In one condo alone there are six to replace. He's done six condo renovations so far.

Let's see, at 36 x $6= that's $216, nearly a month's home assessment fees, a round trip ticket to New York,  a good amount to stash in my savings account-- for more knobs toward a new condo.

The Red Laser app puts more time and money in my hands. From groceries and books to clothing, shoes and doorknobs-- anything with a barcode, it provides the suggested retail price.

If your Mama didn't tell you, I am: you better shop around!

Red Laser is currently a free app.

$$

Thank You Jesus, Jakes & Joel

Ever heard someone say "Don't waste your breath."? For me that comment illustrates the point that life is short and we only have so many breaths to take. Bear with me here, I'm not being morbid, but our days are numbered.

Life is short and the more music I remember from the 80s reminds how much of mine I've lived. Everything that happened in the 80s is more than 20 years ago. And I was solidly  in that era.

Things I used to stress about, insecurities that plagued me, pipe dreams whose smoke kept me awake-- they don't anymore. And I owe it all to Jesus, Jakes and Joel.

Whatever your faith, have faith and believe in it. I don't frequent church as regularly as I once did, but being in a place of worship made a difference for me. Gathering with a community of believers was cathartic. 

When I was a regular churchgoer, my pastor's message always, without fail, made a deposit into my hope account. I was reminded of that when visiting southside Chicago's dynamic ministry at St. Sabina with a friend.

There was joyous music, tears were shed and special prayers were said for children without fathers en masse. To not have felt something in that environment would have required pulselessness.

Anyway I moved  a state away from my church "home" and never joined another now five years ago.

Some refer to it as being a "Bedside Baptist", but  I tune into Bishop T.D. Jakes or Joel Osteen for good measure. I don't care your age, gender, race or religion, you can get something worthwhile listening to these men. 

Bishop T.D. Jakes

For a dose of reality and a shot of grace, I'll watch Bishop T.D. Jakes who tells it like it is, forces you to confront your culpability in whatever "situation" you may find yourself in and leads you to the throne of grace for redemption. He reminds you that whatever you've done, no matter how far you've fallen or down you may be, there's a Father in heaven who will help you.

Pastor Joel Osteen

Pastor Joel Osteen-- well Joel can be counted on to share the Good News. His upbeat message reminds me in whose image I'm made and that no matter how tough the going gets, that part of me is the bigger dog in any fight I'm in.

So what does this have to do with being on a budget you may be thinking.

Your time is the most valuable commodity you have.

Wasting it in sadness, struggling with untenable situations or people, swimming upstream when you don't have to all lead to stress, not living one's life to the fullest and a host of other maladies.

Living faith-filled and stress free saves on health costs. You're less likely to be pursuing the Joneses and trying to keep up with what cannot be kept up with. Most faith-filled people I know view aging as a blessing and not something to war against. They take care of their temple with temperance, good food-both digestable and spiritually speaking-- and practice moderation, generally speaking.

Once you face that you are the only one in a given situation that you can control or change, and really own that truth, it is truly liberating.

Jesus, Jakes and Joel each remind me of that. And for it, I am wholly and forevermore grateful.

(And that's for free.)

$$

Free Movies: A Movie Lover's Dream!

I love movies and hope to write one someday. Film school isn't in my future, so I study the best of them.

Ever try to remember a movie but can't recall the name? If so, IMDB is a cinephile's friend.

I simply plugged in Jeremy Irons and Juliet Binoche in my IMDB app and it gave me Damage, a movie I'd searched for at my local library and the single Blockbuster store still in biz--no luck at either.

from the movie: "Damaged people are dangerous because they know how to survive."

A politician becomes obsessed with his son's fiance tearing a family to shreds.
Hurt people hurt people. Nuff said.

I signed up for Netflix's free month trial after being bombarded by its popup for the past week and it was available as an instant download.

Well, it was actually even  better than I recalled. The pivotal scene is crazy intense.

In spite of the company losing money by separating the instant download from the snail mail DVD divisions, on balance, I find Netflix is a good value.

And for a month's free trial it's worth a try. Just remember to cancel the sub so you aren't billed at month's end if you decide it's not for you.

Happy viewing.

$$

Tip: Use your smartphone and plug in a reminder before your bill date to review whether you wish to cancel or keep your Netflix subscription.

Put Your Smartphone to Work

Not one to upgrade my phone, I'd probably still have this one if it worked.

I downloaded Amazon's app this morning. The commercials piqued my curiosity. The app lets you snap pics of items on your smart phone and it shows you how much it would cost to buy them at the website.

So I grabbed an old book off the shelf and uploaded this grainy one-take shot in the app. Mind you, this was not the barcode, but this picture of the book:

In seconds it came back with this:

http://www.amazon.com/product/dp/0140059660/ref=ar_gw_dp

Cha ching!

I'd been reading about online booksellers who use barcode tech to buy and resell books. As a frequenter of thrift stores, garage and library sales....

Well, you know where I'm going with this.

I started selling textbooks on Amazon years ago after buying lots of them. Once I won an iPod docking station when I didn't have an iPod and sold it there. I was hooked. Sign up was free and easy and getting paid was easier still. This was when I had to input ISBN numbers online and a lot of other steps.

Now all I have to do is snap a picture and it does the work for me? Duh, I'm all in!

I say put your smartphones to work. There are probably books and other items like video games-- even VHS tapes-- that you seldom if ever use at home. Instead of loading them up for donations, giving them away or letting them gather dust, why not shoot, post and sell your way to few extra dollars on Amazon.com?

Two quick ways to save money: reduce your expenses and increase your income. Reselling is a resourceful way to do both.

One man's junk is still another man's treasure. Amazon puts junk and treasure matches together on an international scale bringing joy and rewards to both seller and buyer.

Resourcefulness is priceless. Simply use what you got to get what you need.

By the way, I'm looking for a Spirograph. I loved this thing as a kid.

$$

Coming soon:

Comparison Shopping @ Your Fingertips

Want A Skinny Waist & A Fat Wallet?

Twitter Gen: Your Mom & the Whole Wide World Just Read Your Diary

Having my mom read my diary was one of the worst things that happened to me as a teen. I was sixteen years old and doing a lot-- but definitely not nearly all--of what sixteen year olds do, or rather did or had access to back in the day.

I’m 30-something plus a few so my teen hood was during the pre cell phone, internet technology- saturated era. I was devastated. In it I swore a little, confessed a lot, wrote about things I couldn’t wait to do when I was “grown” and whatever else I held in my teenage heart and mind.

I wrote in my diary generally when I was bored, pissed off, especially dreamy and feeling my teen spirit and angst. Frequency? Once a week at the max. In fact there would be months when I wouldn’t pick up a pen.

This diary of mine was kept under lock at key—the lock and key that came with the diary. You could probably pick it with a toothpick or shake it and open it, but I was certain of its security. And I kept the key separate; but somehow I slipped up one day and my mom, not only read my diary, but she confronted me with the things I’d written—the swears I swore, the confessions I fessed, the things I couldn’t wait to do when I was grown, the hate I held for her based on whatever she wouldn’t let me do at the moment and whatever else I held in my teenage heart and mind. The private life of this teenager? Vanished in an instant!

Why my mom read the diary? She read it to see what I was doing that I wasn’t telling. And as hurt and embarrassed as I was then, I cannot remember a single thing I’d written and our relationship now is none the worse for it.

What she did upon reading it was close some of the cracks I was falling through. She was always strict compared to my friends’ parents. As a single mom with an only child, perhaps she had to be. She boned up on her warden game, armed with the intel I’d unwittingly provided.

I was livid then, but as a mom now, I wholly understand. Privacy with kids has its limits. Okay, I don’t much believe in it. I think of the parents of the Columbine boys who massacred their schoolmates before killing themselves. They had the guns and hatched the entire plan to do what they did in their rooms. A little snooping goes a long way, not that I’m blaming the parents. Some may. I don’t. Kids will find a way to do what they want to do; and we are not our kids’ only influence. The streets are strong.

However, parents do have an obligation to keep them safe and right-path oriented by any means necessary and that includes invading their privacy and disabusing them of the notion that they have it at home. One of the best examples I’ve heard of this was former Miss America Vanessa Williams’ mom in an interview on Oprah Winfrey say that during Vanessa’s rebellious years, she actually took the door off the  hinges of her room door. Like I said…by any means necessary.

This brings me to the Twitter Generation. These young people are journaling in real time, texting and posting their every thought, feeling, deed and inclination online. Though www has been replaced with http, www still is the World Wide Web AKA the Whole Wide World.

OMG...WTF!!!

They’re swearing, sexting, screwing, gossiping and getting high and documenting every move in fever pitch. Sure they’re locking their parents out of their Tumblrs, tweets and Facebook pages. Each time a parent gets savvy enough to access whatever platform they’re on, they hide on another—or so they think.

Only now, any and everyone has a digital toothpick and can sift through their innermost thoughts and access their daily, sometimes hourly life updates.

These young people don’t know that hitting delete really doesn’t and that limiting stuff to “friends” doesn’t either. The stuff they put online is matter that cannot be destroyed. The photos they post, ideas they share,  and thoughts they think that are chronicling their coming into their own, though in the grand scheme of things may be fleeting, are made forever in this Information Age.

Read a young person’s Twitter posts and it’s like they’re scripting their very own reality show—uncut and unadulterated, warts and all. The private lives of young people with the glut of social media simply aren’t.

You can warn them with the stories of sexual predators or highlight the instances of someone being taken advantage of because of the information some freak lurking online has accessed. Nine times out of ten they only hear blah, blah, blah.

I hope none of it comes back to haunt them. Those documented experiences of young love and lust, smoking a joint or drinking underage and other once-private rites of passages that happen for many young people.

Moreover, I hope what they’ve texted, tweeted and posted doesn’t wind up splashed on a front page somewhere—“page” being the internet, a forwarded text, or national news, ruining a yet-evolving reputation, causing some kid to not get the benefit of the doubt and plain old embarrassing them in front of the world like I was in front of my mother, diary in hand.

Simply put, these public diaries made possible by social media make a young person’s uncensored private life fair game and in play for the rest of their lives. Really, the rest of their lives. And I’m not so sure they are ready for that.

And that's for free. -$$

-Zoe Breedlove on a Budget