Getting Started on Twitter:

A Guide for the Complete Twitter Virgin

 

What is Twitter?

It is a micro blogging (web log) site that allows no more than 140 characters per post, or "tweet" (about two short sentences). Twitter says it is: “a service for friends, family, and co–workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: What are you doing?” As a Twitter user you can post up-dates, follow and view updates from other users (this is akin to subscribing to a blog’s RSS feed), and send a public reply or private direct message to connect with another Twitterer. Twitter pages even look much like a blog page.

Though users can answer the prompt, “What are you doing?”, tweets have evolved to more than everyday experiences, and take the shape of shared links to interesting content on the web, conversations around hot topics (using hashtags #), photos, videos, music, and, most importantly, real-time accounts from people who are in the midst of a newsworthy event, crisis, or natural disaster.

Where Is Twitter?

Like a recipe, it takes a whole bunch of words to describe what is essentially, very simple to implement. You too will 'see' this if you follow along as you do it (in a second window). Show, don't tell. Just do it as described---AS you read it here-- have a second window open so you can implement AS YOU READ!

You can locate TWITTER a www.twitter.com typed into your search engine or browser box. Fill in the basic info (Full Name, Email and password -the one you wish to use for twitter)-click on "Sign up" and you are rolling. Welcome page and the twitter teacher will greet you. He says, "This is a Tweet. Tweets are short messages that have up to 140 characters and can contain links like http://twitter.com.” Click "Next". "Follow Freely". To get someone's tweets, click the Follow button. There will be examples. Click on five to 'follow'. Click Next button.

Now twitter will want you to follow five more and look through or 'browse' categories. They are teaching you different methods to find interesting folks to follow. Now they will ask you to add five more using your email account(s). You can skip any of these steps by clicking on 'skip this step' bottom left of page.

Okay. Good. Now you are on your spanking new Twitter page. Congrats. You see your name and an egg shaped icon? That is where you can upload a photo of self or image of your choice to represent you. (An "Avatar") As the business owner/author of you, you will want a close up of you- a "headshot". People connect with faces from the time they are born. You want people to know and like you. (Not your dog, a waterfall or a miscellaneous object---YOU) People will then associate your brand with a personality--a face--you. Click on your name. It will take you to a page where you can upload an avatar image. Click on the big plus sign where your headshot should/will be. You can upload a photo from your computer or you can skip it (until later--but not much later!) and begin.

Before you start actively using Twitter, you need a strategy, and the first step in developing that strategy is to completely fill out your user profile. One of the goals of having a Twitter ac-count is to gain followers and few people want to follow an account that doesn’t look legitimate (i.e. the profile hasn’t been filled out and there’s no avatar (photo/headshot).

Take a good look at your other websites and profiles and draft a Twitter bio to match the rest of your online branding. This is how people will find you and recognize you now and in the future, so be honest. Don’t brand yourself as an ex-pert unless you already are one. Do brand your-self based on your passions and skill set.

Click on the home but-ton in the gray stripe and you are, uh, 'home'.

Under your name is a rectangular box that has "Compose a Tweet" in light gray letters. This is where you type your first tweet post. Type in your message. It will indicate how many characters you have used of your 140 allowed, beneath the message box. When satisfied with your tweet click on the 'tweet' button beneath your message box. You have 'tweeted'! Your message is now sent to any and all who are following you. No followers yet? Get busy following interesting folks and send them a message. Click on potential friend's name. That same mini profile box will open. Next to the blue "Follow" rectangle button is a button with a silhouette and a downward pointing arrow. Click and a pull down menu appears. First item says "Tweet to @name of your friend". Click and your tweet box appears to compose your private message/tweet to your friend. ‘Great to see you here on twitter. Follow me?’ Good message to send. He will be lured to follow you back. You are growing your follower’s lists. Good for you!

Essentially, Twitter is a shorter and more viral form of blogging, so the same rules still apply. By constantly writing or tweeting about your expertise on a specific topic, you’ll become known for it and people will gravitate to you and follow you. If you already have a blog, then I recommend using Twitterfeed, so you can syndicate your posts on Twitter automatically. The best thing you can do for your brand on Twitter is to take your current interests and activities and establish a feed on Twitter to deliver that con-tent to your audience again and again. Content is king, so it is vital to make sure you produce consistent, quality tweets. Suggest that content NOT be primarily about writing, unless you are focusing on gaining writers for clients (you are a PR/Social Media/ Marketing expert). As an author you want to attract readers. Chose something that will attract them.

 

What is Retweeting?

It is an integral part of the Twitter experience. The retweet (or “RT”) allows Twitter users to share the best links, tweets, and gems they find from others using the service. But for beginners, it’s not immediately obvious what retweets are, or what tools to use to make retweeting easier. In your list of Tweets (Large list on the right)--run the pointer over the first tweet. A line of options will appear in gray: "Reply", Retweet, "Favorite", "Open". If you wish your followers to share in this tweet, click on "retweet". If you want to reply to the tweeter, "Reply". If you click on favorite, it will star that tweet to make it easier to access in future--kind of like using a high-lighter. When you click "open", a drop down menu of sorts appears where you can see how many tweople (people) have RT'ed (retweeted) this post as well as who and how many have indicated it as a favorite. If you want to make more new friends these are often the tweople you might approach by clicking on their icon/photo which will take you to visit a mini of their page and a 'follow' button. On his/her page you can see what he has tweeted (a list), how many tweets he has written, how many followers he has, how many he is following and a blurb writ-ten about him. Click on the upper right corner gray "x" to close this box.

Tweetdeck: Tweetdeck is a very popular application for running Twitter on your desktop. It has many features, but one of its best is its one-click retweeting feature: hovering over a profile picture provides the easy option for retweeting anyone’s tweets, just click the bottom left icon.

It also allows organizational columns to keep the (active) "All Friends" tweet stream separate from where and who mentioned you ("mentions") from messages sent directly and privately to you ("direct messages"), from any hashtag streams you might wish to follow. Great application.

Twitter is there to converse with people in a short succinct way. How do you find people? Click on the "Who to Follow" local in the bar at the top of your profile page.

 

What is Twiller speak?

Never read a twiller? Having twissues with your twerminology? Welcome, then, to the abuse of the English language that some call Twitter-speak.

The twick, uh, trick, in most instances, is to take the first two letters of microblogging ser-vice Twitter and meld them, often unwillingly, to the front of your chosen word. These ungainly neologisms are so numerous that they now re-quire at least two sites to track them: Twictionary and Twittonary.

• Twellow: Find people in your industry to follow and connect with using this Twitter yellow pages guide. You can find more Twitter directories here.

• Tweetbeep: Keep track of your brand reputation by getting alerts through email when your brand is mentioned on Twitter. (akin to a Google search)

• Tweetmeme: A button on your blog that al-lows readers to more easily retweet your posts.

• Hashdictionary: Keep track of conversations that include hashtags on Twitter.

• Ping.fm: Save time by sending messages to all of your social networks at once.

• Twitter Grader: A site that ranks your influence in the Twitter world based on an algorithm. You can see where you stand in your town, city, state or country, as well.

 

What is a hashtag (#)?

One of the most complex features of Twitter for new users to understand is the hashtag, a topic with a hash symbol (“#”) at the start to identify it. Twitter hashtags like #followfriday help spread in-formation on Twitter while also helping to organize it.

If everyone agrees to append a certain hashtag to tweets about a topic, it becomes easier to find that topic in search, and more likely the topic will appear in Twitter’s Trending Topics.

Tagalus: Tagalus is a simple dictionary for hashtags. It’s very easy to find information on thousands of hashtags as defined by other users. You can also define (Start your own) a hashtag by tweeting tagalus. You can set up a Twilert to get a daily email of the use of a specific hashtag.

Although not terribly complicated, hashtags have some unwritten rules. The primary one to remember: don’t overuse them. If every one of your tweets IS a hashtag, you dilute the usefulness of them by fragmenting the conversation. In addition, many people will shy away from you because it seems spammy.

Another simple tip: give your hashtag context. Most people won’t actually know what your hashtag means, so give a quick explanation in one of your tweets or, if you’re making a hashtag, make it very apparent what it’s talking about.

Finally, if you’re looking to create a hashtag, be sure that it adds value for yourself and your followers. The best way to utilize them is when you need to organize information.

•  Choose a single hashtag early: This may seem simple, but it is vital to get right. Choose a simple hashtag that represents your event or brand. If your event is the Business of the Calling Ducks conference, don’t use #businessofthecallingducks as your tag. How about #bizducks instead? Keep it short and simple!

•  Remind attendees of the hashtag constantly: On your website, on your Twitter feed, at the opening remarks, and throughout the day make a friendly reminder about your hashtag and that you can track the conversation through it.

•  Provide a website widget: For anyone who isn’t using or knowledgeable with Twitter, provide an easy conversation tracker tool on your website. You can make one via Widgetbox or Tweetgrid.

• Tweetlater: Schedule tweets so that they are published automatically in the future. It’s a real time saver.

 

What is a "TWHOOK"?

Born in December 2011, the "twook" is a pro-motional tool created by an author for authors to be used as an introduction to potential readers of a book, novella or short story. 140 characters or less, (including a minimized link to more information or 'to buy') -- a 'high concept' succinct hook meant to whet the appetite of potential readers, a twook is a brief sentence, a bullet of high intensity writing that pulls in a reader to want more. ~

Here are some examples of "TwHooks" for my books published through Muse It Up Publishing:


Christine London's Shadows Steal The Light - Contemporary Romantic Suspense:

It's love at first sight for rocker Colin & jazz singer Jenna excepting-- she hates rockers and someone wants him dead http://tinyurl.com/bnwcxr7

*********************************************************************

Christine London's When We Were Amazing - Contemporary Romance

Tragedy nearly destroys the family wine biz, can the reluctant young heir forfeit his dreams & online love to save it http://tinyurl.com/7tkpd4e

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Christine London's Hog Wild - Contemporary Erotic Romance

Will the hard driving, salty tongued mechanic Kyle relies upon to fix his Harley be able to mend his heart, as well? http://bit.ly/tMDRnR

*************************************************************************

Christine London's Reluctant Companions - Contemporary Erotic Romance

Two lonely people overwhelmed by life…same time, same gorgeous Oahu locale---except they are not alone... http://tinyurl.com/6nbtjk4

Go Forth my Tweople and Tweet/Twhook!

When Love Speaks

Film mirrors real life. Writers of fiction and fact speak the truth through the words of their characters. The power of love. The power of the pen to write what is in men’s hearts when they fall…

She has 600 different smiles. They can light up your life. Make you laugh out loud, make you cry, just like that.
— When a Man Loves a Woman

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.— When Harry Met Sally

The world is moved by love. We kneel before it in awe.
— The Village

We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.
— To Love and Be Loved

Love is the strongest thing. Nothing can touch it. Nothing comes close. If we love each other we're safe from it all                             ---Snow Falling on Cedars

I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... I knew. It was like magic.— Sleepless in Seattle

Wherever she is, that's where my home is.— The Notebook

You make me want to be a better man —As Good as It Gets

I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. — The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for? What is worth dying for ?The answer to each: only love                    — Don Juan DeMarco

Truth & love has always won There may be tyrants and murderers and for a time they may seem invincible, but in the end, they always fail.  --Gandhi

There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with and love shouldn't have to be one of them.— Dream for an Insomniac

"I want the last face you see in this world to be the face of love.… I'll be the face of love for you."— Dead Man Walking

I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it.
— City of Angels

Known someone that could level you with her eyes... an angel on earth who could rescue you from the depths of hell. " — Good Will Hunting

It seems right now that all I've ever done in my life is making my way here to you."— The Bridges of Madison County

Yours has been the most important friendship of my life.— Sense and Sensibility

The Great Smoothie Experiment

So I've been trying out various smoothie recipes--

They say it is a really good way to get concentrated nutrion in a pleasant easily assembled form.

Well guess what? I ran across an amazing one that is bright green and SO NOT veggie tasting you will be astounded.

"Spinach Shake"

Sounds gross, huh?

So let's call it Green Goddess and call it GOOD. (Because it is!)





3 cups fresh spinach leaves
2 cups ice
1/2 large banana
2 Tbsp pnut butter
1 scoop vanilla protein powder
3/4 cup low fat milk
optional: 1 Tbsp honey OR Agave nectar (if you wish sweeter drink)

Blend in blender on high and serve.

Rich, smooth, healthy and amazing!

Lyon France Vineyards–When We Were Amazing’s Aussie Wine Heir Struggles

Bryan Lassiter, our reluctant young Aussie wine heir, finds himself in Lyon, France trying to forget the love of his life, California rancher, Carrie Sorrell. He’s a guest member of an exclusive club of international vintners attending an invitational event kissed by distracting co worker, Leslie, accompanied by mentor Judy and -- momentarily left alone with his memories...

   “It’s straight,” Bryan professed, his hand reaching to cover hers on the knot at his collar.
   “It’s not. You want to look perfect this morning.” Leslie’s flawlessly filed French tips played with the silk of his tie, adjusting it with small tugs. Bryan looked at their reflections in the
six-foot horizontal mirror. Her flame red dress snug against her curves, she stood back to the mirror adjusting his tie. Sun pouring through the skylight nearly obscured her in its white glow.
   “I’ll be late.” He planted an obligatory goodbye kiss at her cheek and headed for his briefcase at the door. “See you tonight.” He entered the hall pausing a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Raising his wrist, he glanced at his watch. Eight thirty. He had just enough time to hop in the limo and make it to Le Rousseau by nine; they’d be serving cheeses, fruit and café au lait, no doubt.
   His stomach growled as he headed for the lobby.
   A black Lincoln sat in the crescent of the wide drive. He thought it odd to have such an American monstrosity do the ferrying of executives through the outskirts of Lyon, into the countryside and the world-renowned vineyards. Nine a.m. meet and greet, ten o’clock walk through. He looked forward to seeing first hand the ancient blended into modern techniques of the French.
   Four years since he’d taken the reins and this was the first time he’d made it to France. He slid onto the slick leather of the rear bench seat, nodding good morning to Judy.
   “They’ll be expecting us to be ignorant.” Judy looked up from the glossy professional brochures in her lap. “The arrogance oozes from every perfect cuneiform curl.” She raised an olive green tri-fold printed on top grade paper. Misty vine-covered hills punctuated with the white of a French chateau was the backdrop to the elegant calligraphy spelling out La Rousseau.
   “Ours are much classier.” Bryan observed.
   “Yeah, and Bob’s your uncle.”
   “We don’t need the pretense. Australian wines have been winning as many international ribbons as any—”
   “Still there’s the perception.” She peered over her reading glasses. “And perception is everything.”
   Bryan made a low growl at the back of his throat. “We’ll see.” He turned his face to look out the window. Sparsely scattered estates fell away and the countryside turned into open land, wild
grasses rolling along the fields rippling in the breeze that raced across them.
   A heavy stone fence appeared, dividing road from fields now set in the neat geometry of the vineyard.



Turning through massive wrought iron gates, the limo glided up the road toward a
gentle rise on which stood the La Rousseau Chateau. Every bit as impressive as its likeness in the brochure, the gray granite blocks of its walls spelled money, power and prestige.
   A black tuxedoed doorman opened the rear of the limo, his other arm held toward the horizon in welcome. “Mr. Lassiter and Ms…uh…”
  “McBride. Judy McBride.”
  “Very good. Ms. McBride. Welcome to La Rousseau Vineyards.” He divided a glance between them. “Please, follow me.”
   They walked through a glass doorway open to the morning air, the ceiling of the room they entered soaring two stories over their heads. There was a heavy mahogany round table in the
center of plush inlaid carpet, its bear-claw feet curled as though ready to pounce from its position of prominence. An enormous spray of flowers set in a silver cloisonné vase seemed the only thing weighting table to floor.
   Across the room a hearth, big enough to roast a pig, gave testament to the age of the building, intricately carved marble about  its mantel reflecting the baroque elegance of a much
earlier Louis.
   “Judy.” Louis Rousseau’s voice boomed through the vast space, bouncing off the plaster. Period tapestries along the walls absorbed extraneous noise; no doubt the room was a banquet hall before the revolution. “And zeh junior Mr. Lassiter. So very nice to meet you.” Louis extended a fine boned hand. Slight of build, but immaculately dressed, Mr. Rousseau appeared much less intimidating than the oil on canvas likeness that graced the home page of the Le Rousseau website.
   “A pleasure.” Bryan took his hand. Shaken with unexpected strength, he noted the physical signature of a man in control.
   “S’il vous plait. Accompany me to zeh jardin. It ez much more beautiful on such a glorious day.”
   Bryan nodded in a slight bow of concession and they followed Louis through the hall, out onto a grand terraced patio, which overlooked a sea of grass so green, it looked like it belonged on a football pitch. Islands of roses spread out in horticultural perfection on each side. Images of Versailles popped into Bryan’s head; this was on a smaller scale, but every bit as impressive.
   “You are among the first of our guests to arrive. Please help yourself to refreshment.” He
raised an invitational hand to the linen-covered table abutting a semi circle of granite benches spanning half the perimeter of the house.
   “Thank you,” Judy chimed in. “We’ll be fine.”
   “Very good. If you will excuse me, I must greet the other arrivals.” Rousseau bowed and walked back into the house.
   “Some spread.” Judy scrolled the surroundings and reached for a croissant from a cut crystal platter.
   “Do you mean the grounds or the food?” Bryan asked in amusement. Judy seldom displayed any form of awe, even so much as using a relaxed colloquial. “Spread?” He chuckled.
  “I’d just as well get used to throwing in an Americanism or two. Heaven knows we’ll be seeing enough bloody Californians over the next few days to fill Mr. Rousseau’s grand hall.”
   “Hmmm,” Bryan acknowledged, scooping a flute of champagne from a silver tray at the far end of the table. He walked out onto the grass and took a gulp; the carbonation caught in his
throat on the way down. He swallowed and coughed, clearing the tickle. Delicious.



The champagne warmed his empty stomach with a pleasant fizz. The effect of its alcohol was felt
almost immediately in a rush of lightheadedness. He took another gulp, feeling the uncouth wine novice, but he didn’t care. First it was a morning of Leslie’s incessant nitpicking and now Judy
throwing the inevitability of Californians in his face. He needed a drink.
   Every time he thought he’d gotten over her, there was a reminder. From the specter of some woman on the beach in a string bikini the shade of the one she’d worn one day at Malibu, to a
Yank accent on the breeze as he walked through Federation Square, to the never ending flow of Californians in the bloody wine business. Today would be no exception. All the world’s top
winemakers would attend La Rousseau’s CEO invitational, California being amongst the lot. Held every five years, Louis Rousseau made sure each attendee felt the tradition and pressure of
the French nipping at the heels of vintners worldwide. France held a place of historical esteem, even though superb wines were produced in many other regions of the globe. Rousseau knew it,
and pulled out all the stops to impress upon the vintner elite that France was not about to abdicate its place in the world’s eyes.
Bryan strolled out onto the grass and looked across the distant vines impassively. When would Carrie’s face leave him? There wasn’t a day that he didn’t think about her and wonder if
she was happy. One curt reply to a barrage of e-mails had been the only word he’d gotten from
her after that evening he’d called. She’d been swept her off her feet, she’d claimed, by this
American Brian. He’d tried to get through to her, writing e-mail after e-mail pleading his case, to
be met with a silence of two months and then that terse response.
  “Don’t write to me any more, Bryan. I’m sorry, but I’ve moved on. I never expected to find an older man, but you were right.” 

   That’s what really stuck in his craw, that reference to his age. It had never made a difference to him so why all of a sudden did it seem to loom large in her mind?
   He drained the glass and walked over for another. Snagging a wedge of Brie, he popped it in his mouth followed by a couple of red grapes. A croissant to sop up the alcohol, he bit the end of
the flaky crescent before sipping at another flute of champagne.
  Slow down, Lassiter. You are going to need your faculties for this lot. He walked back out onto the grass and over to an island of pale pink roses bushes. Leaning to breath in the fragrance, he let his mind wander to Leslie.
   He shook his head. Perhaps she had been a rebound at first. Carrie would certainly think so. Her looks had worn him down at first, yes. But she was bright and funny most days, unless
something or someone got in her way. Ambitious to the end, Leslie Covington was the epitome of a status seeker. He’d even accused her of coming on to him because of his place in the wine
world during one of their ever more frequent squabbles. Hell, recently they had been out and out fights, always ending in mind-numbing make up sex. The woman could have been a courtesan
with that voluptuous figure of hers. Almost a caricature, the hourglass of her form turned men’s heads wherever they went.
   Yes, it had been a factor in her pursuit those first few months after the break up with Carrie. She’d kept after him with her brilliant idea of joining forces: Bradley LLC becoming chief
publisher and distributor of Lassiter Vineyards’ series of ‘Culinary Oz’, Lassiter wines prominently featured not only as part of the recipes, but as accompaniment to the complete meals
outlined and beautifully photographed against the background of the Mornington Peninsula’s spectacular hills and beaches. The books continued to be an international hit, selling prominently
in gourmet shops and chain bookstores alike.
   He smiled at the memory of her obvious flirtation. Showing up at his Melbourne offices at least twice a week in those form-fitting dresses of hers, she always had another suggestion to
convince him of the affability of the two companies and this ‘win-win’ venture.
   She’d finally gotten to him one night when he’d had a particularly hard week of missing Carrie and feeling generally sorry for himself.
   “You’re such a man.” He could practically hear Carrie’s reprimand. Of course, she had said it in fun when she caught him checking her out on what he thought to be the sly, as she washed
dishes in that cute little kitchen of hers on the ranch, wearing nothing but short shorts and a tee.
   He winced, a bit of truth ringing through his head. Yes, Leslie was beautiful, but she was smart as well as a good strategic planner as far as Bradley was concerned. She knew next to nothing about the wine business though and her lack of interest in learning had been the accelerant for more than a few rows.
   “Bryan?” Judy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “The Rossi’s are here.” He turned to see half a dozen of the famous California-based vintners walking toward him like the original
Mercury astronauts, strutting the ‘right stuff’ in their expensive suits and, in the case of Mrs.Rossi senior, couture.
   Forcing a smile to his face, he walked toward them in greeting to begin the day.

When We Were Amazing by Christine London

For more information:

http://www.amazon.com/When-We-Were-Amazing-ebook/dp/B006M6NMMO/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1326867389&sr=8-2

The Descendants– The Little Film That Could

The Descendants

Ostensibly about a man wrangling with the weight of decision - to sell a piece of pristine Kauai paradise passed down through generations of family-- to land developers or to keep it in its natural state. What might have seemed oppressive pressure to choose wisely is dwarfed in significance when real life intrudes on just another day in paradise. Matt King's (Clooney) consuming career as land baron takes backstage when his wife is involved in a boating accident. The daughters he has neglected in favor of work are suddenly thrust before him. How does a man with all good intentions of rekindling his neglected marriage and fragmented relationship with his children cope when fate shoves him into the role of parent?

As Matt's raw soliloquy at the film's beginning reminds us, no matter the glorious setting, it can not dull the pain and challenges we all face. Set against Hawaiian backdrop of azure seas and tropical flowers, The Descendants reminds us what it means to be human in all it's messy, ornamented layers.

George Clooney is yanked through the most intense and horrible of family shattering occurrences, but remains intact while fighting the Neanderthal knee jerk reaction most men would have when faced with their wife's infidelity, mortality and children he barely knows. The film avoids the easy Pollyannaish path in favor of brutal reality while maintaining a delicate balance of humor and bittersweet ironies. Clooney is thus cast as a reluctant hero, but hero nonetheless.

Every character, from the rebellious daughters, to the flinty grief stricken father-in-law, to the eldest daughter’s smart mouthed boyfriend, to the object of Matt's wife's adultery - all are complex, multi-layered and oh so human.

Clooney's character sees though these layers and interwoven lives to the core of grief and change allowing the viewer to come to the same conclusions he does by film's end. How refreshing to be treated to such an intelligent plot and multifaceted characters. Highest recommendation and kudos.

*Congratulations to this quiet little film for its Golden Globe wins over other big glitzy contenders.*

A Bittersweet Farewell and the Power of Gratitude

My father was a world war two vet in the Pacific theatre. A pilot on photographic missions he earned his wings at nineteen--straight out of high school. He met my mother at her sorority house Northwestern University Chicago as he played the piano pass time downstairs waiting for a friend. She heard his rendition of Tea for Two and was drawn like the music lover she was.
   Mom passed away at home in August of 2007 before her Alzheimer's could rob her of all her memories.

My only sibling, a brother, followed her in June of 2008--a victim of his nicotine addiction. Dad passed in March 2010 in the final cruel stages of the neurological thief -- Parkinson's disease.   In the span of two and a half years my family of origin was lost. It drew a curtain of sadness over my life.

  Today I went to visit the care home for the elderly and infirmed where my father spent his last year. It is the first time I have been back since he passed. It was lovely to see the care providers and other residents. I am humbled by the level of love they provided day in and out. I watched over my parents as they were robbed of their faculties and know intimately the emotional and physical demands of care providers. Until dad could not move from wheelchair to bed, he remained in his home of thirty five years. It is one of life's most difficult decisions to know when elders can not be served best in their homes.

The care home in which he resided is a magical place. It is a private home in which a maximum of six resident may be cared for at any given time

It sits on a hill overlooking the sea in the most beautiful part of the Palos Verdes Peninsula, Los Angeles.

   Today I met the new residents and their families. They were having a birthday party for one of the elders. As we sat in the back garden overlooking the sea, two biplanes--Stearman--the same sort my father trained in as a 19 year old in World War two, flew overhead--out over the sea. They nearly touched wings as they moved in perfect formation. It was as though my parents were saying hello to me--and farewell. Such a moment, such a vision etched permanently in mind.

   There is a hole in my life now that is unfilled, but the loss has also given me such a great appreciation for life. To enjoy every day-every moment. To see what I wish they could see--what we could share together--what I now see for them and for those who might be touched by my world through the vehicle of my words.

Such was the color of my day. Bittersweet--rich. I hope yours did not pass without notice and deep gratitude. There is so much beauty and wonder in every leaf, face and sunrise. This life is a rainbow of experience.

There is no problem or challenge so big or difficult that it should color your world gray.

A New Beginning

A flipping of the calendar from one month of 'ending' to the next--a new beginning?



Here we are in January of a brand spanking new year. More days counted on a calendar of human design, yet as good a reason as any to evaluate—re-evaluate our lives and what's happening around us.
Hey...any reason to introspect gets a gold star in my book. A friend of mine took the momentous occasion to list her ten hottest guys of 2011. Hmm... The airwaves are full of ads to join a gym, a diet center, a technical college. Improve yourself, improve you life, get off the couch, join in on the human race.
What about twelve months wears down our resolve--our desire to make every day count? Is it failing optimism? No. Our need to look to the sunrise in search of unending possibilities?



Perhaps.
Like an Etcha sketch we need to shake up our lives and erase that which we find wanting.



Our never ending ability to start again is the stuff of human invention and success. We move forward, albeit three steps forward, two back, in uneven struggle. When we have risen to the occasion enough times, we wear out and new life takes over in the never-ending dance.
One job not any better or more valuable than the next, each of us finds a niche in which we can contribute to the forward motion of life. Each has a unique moment of personal destiny. Each a place in human destiny. Through the power of intention we can choose to step out of our history into the light of a new day, month, year—life.
I put it to you that in this time of new beginnings disallow how others define you and look inside to ask how you might best serve others in this cause called humanity. What makes your heart soar? What would you do even if no one paid or noticed? What would propel you from bed every morning into a new day of living your passion?




You can help. Use whatever connection you have with however many people you influence. No preaching necessary. It is through respect--allowing people to see for themselves how their lives can be better by the gift you offer. Whether that be shining a shoe,



selling broccoli,



making a bed,



framing a house



or painting a beautiful picture



—you have an integral gift to offer. It may never receive accolades or notice, but if it adds positive energy, influence, life to the world; you have been a success.
Move toward your dream each and every day. No matter how small that forward motion, it and you make what the world calls humanity, better, smarter, more stable, more meaningful. One heart touched, one life altered for the good, one day, one hand, one heart at a time.




2012 the end of the (Mayan) calendar--the beginning of another, a chance to improve, move forward, live and love every daybreak, every sunset, every success, every failure. Live, breathe, move forward toward your supreme moment of destiny.