Just Between Friends

Dirty, rotten scoundrels

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 14:57:00 +0000

How many times, especially in recent weeks since the Tiger Woods' fiasco, have you referred to a cheating spouse or boyfriend as a dirty, rotten scoundrel . . . or worse? Cheating is one of those things that women take very, very personally, whether in their own lives, the lives of their friends or even in their fiction.

I have a theory about this, at least as it pertains to the way we view the cheating man in the life of a friend. I suspect we all fear that there, but for the grace of God, could be us. The discovery that a man we know has been cheating on a friend hits way too close to home. It shakes up the way we view the world, and sometimes our own relationships. We start watching for the little clues that we might have missed that, heaven forbid, it's happening to us, too.

When a friend reveals that a spouse or boyfriend has been cheating, we offer a shoulder to cry on, try very hard not to be judgmental once the decision is made to stay or go, and offer support if the relationship is irretrievably broken.

It's a whole lot easier to be judgmental and view the issue as black or white -- kick the dirty, rotten scoundrel to the curb, for instance -- when there's some distance from the situation. Most everybody has their opinions about what the publicly humiliated spouses of various political figures and celebrities ought to do to their husbands.

The truth is, though, when the cheating hits home, it's a whole lot harder to make the call. The theoretical "cheating is a deal breaker" is tougher when your own emotions and kids, perhaps, are involved. Every situation, every marriage, every relationship is different. And sometimes it takes walking in those shoes to view the choices differently.

I've been thinking about this recently after seeing a reader comment somewhere that she flatly won't read a book in which the spouse or hero has cheated. Her views were strong and unyielding. Since I have no idea who she was, I have no way of determining what colored her opinions, but I'm curious about how the rest of you feel.

In Home in Carolina, which hits stores March 30, Ty Townsend has cheated on Annie Sullivan during their time apart while she was still in college and he was on the road playing Major League baseball. The situation reminds me of Ross's oft-repeated claim to Rachel in "Friends" that he'd thought they were "on a break." That's definitely what Ty thought, and maybe he could have pulled it off and earned Annie's forgiveness, if only one of those women hadn't had his child!

So, put yourself in Annie's shoes, if you can. This is a man who's been a dear and loyal friend, a man who's been there for her during some of the worst times of her life. He still loves her more than anything. Could you forgive him? Could you accept his child as your own?

Obviously there are more complications in the book than I've detailed here, but in general I'd love to hear how you'd handle such a situation. Could you steel your heart against this man you've always loved? Click on comments below and let me know, or email me directly at Sherryl703@gmail.com.

Sherryl Woods

Meeting face-to-face

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 20:14:00 +0000

Anyone who knows me is well aware that I am technologically inept. Though I have eagerly embraced my computer for writing and the Internet for research and email, beyond that, not a clue! And it took me a very long time to get even this far. There was a time when my old newspaper had to hide a standard typewriter from me in case I pitched a fit about converting to electric. I did.

Lately, however, I have been persuaded that I should be on Facebook. Because I had no idea how to accomplish that, visiting friends took all of my basic information and picture home to Atlanta and got me signed up. I actually found the page all by myself. I even nabbed a few friends.

And then Facebook, bless its heart, changed their profile pages and I had to mentally scrap what little I knew and try to figure out how to get where I was going all over again. Keep in mind that I am doing this on a computer that's not only a dinosaur, but relies on dial-up. Facebook is tortoise-slow under these conditions. I am an impatient person. It's not a good mix.

However, to all of you who happen to be on Facebook, I am happy to have friends. I know how to confirm you. I've even figured out how to make a comment or two on the posts. I am, sadly, lacking in the patience to actually wait for the messages to appear, so if you want a quick response from me to something specific, I still suggest you use my email, Sherryl703@gmail.com. I've mastered that. I can even do it in a heartbeat on my iPhone.

It is my fervent hope to use Facebook to keep you up-to-date on what I'm doing, where I'm going to be whenever I'm on tour, that kind of thing.

Until I've figured it out, though, know that I will be in Columbus, Ohio from April 28 through May 2 for the annual Romantic Times convention. I'll even be hosting a tea to celebrate the release of Sweet Tea at Sunrise, the second book of the new Sweet Magnolia trilogy coming out in April, May and June. So, if you're going to RT, check out the tea on Saturday afternoon and request a ticket. They'll be limited, so do it soon.

If you live in Columbus, but don't plan to attend the conference, keep an eye out for any booksignings I might do in town. After all, I went to college at Ohio State and worked in Columbus for several years. It's a town I love, so I'm very anxious to get back there and hopefully cross paths with some old friends and meet some new ones...this time face-to-face.

In the meantime, if you are on Facebook, check out my page and say hello. One way or another, I'll try to welcome you.

Sherryl Woods

Who's in charge here?

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 15:37:00 +0000

I've been hearing a lot lately about personal accountability. It's usually been in connection with discussions about whether the government should be interceding in a whole host of things from health care to texting while driving.

Now, believe me, as an absolute control freak who hates anyone telling me what to do, I get why people don't want the government making more rules and regulations about much of anything. I can barely tolerate some of the rules here in my condo, and they're pretty benign.

That said, however, I also figure my right to live life on my terms and by my rules pretty much ends when it infringes on someone else's rights, endangers their life, or takes money out of their pocket.

Here's what set me off about this. The Florida Legislature may at long last allow a bill to ban texting while driving to get out of committee and come up for a vote this year. Various bills in the past have died for a lack of will from legislators with the spine of an overcooked spaghetti noodle. Their excuse has been that people should be held personally accountable for their behavior, and the state shouldn't interfere.

By that logic, there should be no laws against drunk driving, or driving while impaired with drugs or, what the heck, without so much as a valid driver's license. Just like drinking and driving, texting while driving is dangerous. It's stupid. And way too often, it's teens who are barely paying attention to the road in the first place, who are doing it. Ditto with cell phone usage. How many lives are going to be lost before people get it? Cell phones and a couple of thousand pounds of metal, combined with high speeds and other distracted drivers, flat-out don't mix?

Should a law be necessary when something's so obvious? In a perfect world, no. We'd all be smart enough to realize that even if we're willing to die so we can make sure our friends know we're going to be late to lunch, we shouldn't kill anyone else in the process. Sadly, that's not the case.

Just the other day in a mall parking lot, a woman driving an SUV and talking on her cell phone tried to maneuver her car into a space with only one hand on the wheel. She missed and hit the neighboring car, all with me standing right there watching her. Did she look even vaguely chagrined? No. Did she put down the cell phone before her next attempt? No. She was laughing, as she continued talking. What a hoot, huh?

So, in our less than perfect world, somebody has to set at least the most basic of rules to protect the rest of us from those who don't have the sense God gave a duck. You wouldn't think a lawmaker, confronted with the mangled cars from numerous accidents involving cell phones and/or texting, would have to think twice.

If you'd like to rant about this -- or to argue with me -- feel free to hit comment below and chime in.

In the meantime, though, drive safely.

Sherryl Woods

The smallest gifts...

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 13:15:00 +0000

I have been encouraged about the state of the world lately, and it's all due to the horrific earthquake tragedy in Haiti. One of the things about crises of this magnitude is that they tend to bring out the best in people. Sometimes the worst, too, but for now I'm happy to focus on the world's generosity.

Here in Miami with our very large Haitian community, the earthquake, its victims and its miracles have been front page news and top-of-the newscast stories ever since it happened on January 12. For us, it's not just an international story, it's local. Almost everyone I know has been touched in one way or another by what happened. My favorite security guard where I live, though born here himself, still has family living in Haiti. Talking to him has brought the tragedy home for me. Even without that connection, though, the stark images on TV would have been shattering.

And what those images have done is mobilize a level of giving that awes and amazes me. Thousands, if not millions, have used text messaging to make a Red Cross donation of $10, proving that no amount of money is too small to make a difference. Celebrities have come together for a telethon that raised millions. Companies have looked for ways to generate donations. In fact, the other day as I was ordering Valentine's cookies from www.flourpotcookies.com, I discovered that they have "Hearts for Haiti" cookies, and will donate 20% of the proceeds for those to the cause. I ordered some of those in addition to the varieties I was already ordering as gifts. Their cookies, by the way, are fabulous. Someone sent me some for Christmas and I can only thank heaven that they have to be ordered, rather than bought at a neighborhood store, or I'd be addicted. But I digress...

One of the best examples of giving that I've heard or read about, though, came on ABC News the other night. A little boy in England decided to ride his bike around a park to raise money for Haiti. As of the news report, he'd raised something like 160,000 pounds, which by my not-necessarily-accurate calculations is in the $300,000 range. Questioned about his little neighborhood project, he said with a sense of awe, "It's gone mad." And isn't it wonderful that it has?

Because the truth is that the best kind of charity comes from individuals who want desperately to help others, whether they're in their neighborhood or around the world. When tragedy strikes, the best among us want to do something to reach out. Whether the gift is large or small, whether it's cash or time or lies in the abilities of some of the volunteer rescuers who flew in on their own dime to aid in survival miracles, it's the outstretched hand that matters...and gives us all hope.

If you've done nothing up till now, it's not too late. It will take years and most likely billions of dollars to repair the damage done by this earthquake, and that's not even considering the human suffering in this very, very poor country not far from our shores. Whether your donation is a dollar, ten dollars, or more, do what you can to make a difference. Most newspaper and TV websites have lists of all the legitimate organizations who would welcome your help. You may even have local churches or charities which are giving aid. One small gift, whatever it may be, serves as a reminder that no matter where we live or how dire our own situation, we can always hold out a helping hand to others in need.

Sherryl Woods

Reunited at last!

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 12:59:00 +0000

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this to you, but contrary to all physical and statistical evidence, I still think I'm young! Somehow I've managed to avoid all those undeniable things, such as growing children, who are rock-solid proof that time has passed. Let's not talk about the wrinkles for now.

At any rate, this past weekend some 150 alumni and spouses of the Miami News, the newspaper for which I worked at the end of my journalism career, gathered in Miami for a reunion and a chance to mourn the passing of the paper, which closed its doors back in 1989 -- nine years after I'd left. Now, if you're doing the math, that means it's been 30 years since I have seen some of these folks. I'm still reeling from that discovery, since I don't think anything significant in my life should have occurred that long ago.

This was also the first reunion of any kind I've ever attended. I've skipped my high school reunions and, to the best of my knowledge the School of Journalism at Ohio State (now the School of Communications, I think) hasn't held a reunion of people from my era. Of course, there are people from both places that I've seen through the years, but there are many others I have not. So, this was the first time I've gone to anything, looked around and discovered -- oh, sweet heaven -- I might be old!

Two of my friends from way back when stayed with me over the weekend -- a couple who actually wed in the gazebo by the ocean at my condo. We all agreed after it was over that we haven't had so much fun in years. Not only did we see old friends, there were so many, many stories of days gone by. The memories kept tumbling out about the characters who made our newsroom a very special place to work, the grit and determination with which many of us did our best to beat the competition, the much larger Miami Herald, and the way we all played together on the softball field, on tennis courts, and at some wildly outrageous parties. No other place I've ever worked had that kind of camaraderie and it was so wonderful to have a chance to remember it.

Sadly, with traditional newspapers changing dramatically and fading away, very few of those at the reunion still work in the industry. Some have retired. Some, like me, have gone on to other things. But our hearts and souls are still in journalism, the old-fashioned, gritty kind that made sure our readers were informed accurately and objectively. So even as we celebrated being together, we mourned that change.

I hope all of you have a chance from time to time to renew old acquaintances like this. If the opportunity arises, take advantage of it before it's too late. And if you already have and would like to share some of the memories it stirred for you, click on comments below or send me an email at Sherryl703@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you.

Sherryl Woods

Post-holiday blues

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 20:05:00 +0000

How many of you suffer from a serious let-down once the holidays are over? For me, I think it goes back to childhood when the minute the holidays ended, it was back to the routine of school and studying. Now, of course, we head back to work -- and dieting -- after days, if not weeks, of celebrating, parties, family gatherings and all the special foods we indulge in during this time of the year.

I've also discovered over the years, that I feel a similar let-down when I wrap up a book and send it off to my editor. It's the creative version of post-partum depression, I think. And the best thing for that, I discovered a long time ago, was to be ready to dive right into the next book.

Similarly, the best thing for curing the post-holiday blues, it seems to me, is to plan new activities for the new year. Schedule visits with friends. Order tickets for an upcoming event. Plan anything that will have you looking forward, rather than backward to all the excitement that's now behind you.

I'm lucky this year. Not only do I have old friends visiting next week, but there's to be a reunion of many of the people I worked with years ago at the Miami News. I've kept in touch with quite a few of these now scattered and, in some cases, now retired journalists and photographers, but there are many others I haven't seen in ages. I'm really looking forward to reminiscing and catching up.

And I've just made plans for another friend's visit in March. One thing about spending winter in Florida, there's no shortage of people anxious to escape the cold for a bit. One thing I know for sure we'll do is to attend the Sony-Ericcson tennis tournament. I've already ordered the tickets and have my fingers crossed that this time I'll get to see Rafael Nadal or Roger Federer play, though no matter who's on court, it's bound to be exciting.

There are obviously still a lot of gaps in my winter calendar, but just having these visits to look forward to has cheered me up considerably now that the holiday season is over. And of course, I also need to take out the watercolors I received for Christmas and start trying them out. I doubt I'll become a great artist at this stage of my life, but if I can get one single painting to look anything like what I see in my head, I'll consider it a coup.

So, get busy. Start making plans with your friends. Take up a new hobby. Make sure that 2010 gets off to the best start ever.

Happy new year!
Sherryl Woods

A special holiday gift for you!

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 19:54:00 +0000

'Tis the season, and of course, I wish you bountiful blessings and joy for Christmas and the new year, but in these tough economic times, I have something much more practical for you as well.

Sometime in the next couple of days, if it's not already posted, you will be able to find a free digital sampler of Amazing Gracie on my website, www.sherrylwoods.com. Better yet, you will also be able to click on a link to print a coupon to take $1 off the price of the book at most national retailers. You'll need to check the details on that, but it's my understanding that the coupon will be accepted almost anywhere except Barnes and Noble.

I'm really excited to be able to make this offer to you, especially for the reissue of a book that's always been one of my favorites. I do, however, ask one thing of you in return. The website coupon is something new being offered by my publisher. It's a first, I'm told. I fear it may not come without glitches, so please, please email me directly if you have any difficulty at all using it according to the information on the coupon. You can email me at Sherryl703@gmail.com or click on comments below. Please include the name of the retailer where you had a problem and the city. I don't need a specific address, just the store and city so we can track any problems that might occur. Explain what happened. Did they refuse it? Accept it only after an argument? Whatever. I truly want to know. Making an offer like this is great only if you're satisfied by the experience.

And if, miracle of all miracles, this all goes without a hitch, hopefully we'll be able to make this offer again on future books.

I'd also like to know if reading the sampler helped you to make a decision about whether to buy the book in the first place. Though we always include book summaries on my website, this will be the first time there's been a sampler. Let me know your reaction to that, as well.

Amazing Gracie is due in stores Tuesday, December 29. With luck, you'll have fallen in love with Gracie, Kevin and the assortment of wonderful characters in this story, have your coupon in hand and be right there when the stores open.

In the meantime, though, I hope you have a very merry Christmas with family and friends. Spending time with those you love is one of the best parts of the holiday season...along with all those cookies, of course. And whatever you do, drive safely, keep the spirit of the season alive by sharing with others, and enjoy all the blessings God has bestowed upon you.

Sherryl Woods

An amazingly small world!

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 16:05:00 +0000

I have always known that we live in a very small world, but once in a while things happen to remind me of it.

Two of my favorite stories happened years ago when I was still working for the Miami News. I'd taken a trip to Russia -- in February, no less -- mostly to see the Bolshoi and Kirov ballet companies in Moscow and St. Petersburg (then still Leningrad). Since I was covering television at the time, CBS gave me the name of their Moscow correspondent -- Richard Roth -- in case I wanted to touch base. Keep that name in mind.

On our first visit to see a performance by the Bolshoi, as I sat in the balcony of the magnificent old theater, my friend and I began chatting with an American man seated in front of us. He mentioned being a reporter. My friend, who worked for the Chicago Tribune, and I both perked up. "Really?" I said. "What paper?" To which he replied, "The Miami Herald." When I told him I worked for the competing Miami paper, we both shook our heads at the coincidence.

The next day, my traveling companion made a call to her paper's Moscow-based correspondent. Delighted to hear from folks from back home, he immediately offered to pick us up and take us to the American Embassy for lunch. When he arrived, there was another man driving the car. You guessed it. Richard Roth, the contact from CBS, whom I hadn't called!

Just this week I was reminded of those small world incidents when I received an email from friends in Orlando. I originally met Jim Manuel several years ago when he was hired as my media escort to make sure I got to bookstores and interviews on time. We've worked together since on several occasions and I've gotten to know his wife, as well.

When he wrote the other day, it was to tell me that a close friend of his and Debby's had just done the voices for her very first book on tape. They'd been very excited for her. When she sent along a copy of the tape, lo and behold, it turned out to be my book, Amazing Gracie, which is due in stores in print and audio editions on December 29.

Their friend, Janet Metzger, has just sent me an email, as well, to tell me how much she enjoyed the book. One of these days we'll all manage to get together to talk about life's coincidences. You can read more about her experience on her website: www.janetmetzger.com.

I love it when things like this happen, when we're reminded that as huge as this country is or however far we travel, we just never know when we're going to bump into someone from back home or meet someone to whom we're indirectly connected. Sometimes those six degrees of separation people joke about with Kevin Bacon are even fewer. I, for instance, was only two degrees of separation away from Hugh Grant once upon a time...when an acquaintance rented her house in the English countryside to the author of "Bridget Jones' Diary." I tried to figure out some way to close that gap and get to Hugh, but alas, I never did.

I'd love to hear about some of your small world coincidences. Just click on comments below to share them.

Sherryl Woods

Shootout in Times Square

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 13:57:00 +0000

So, there I was in New York to get my holiday fix of bright lights, decorations, good food and theater, when things went a little bit crazy.

As I've often said before, I love New York at this time of the year and my trip last week kicked off on a perfect note with a wonderful production of "A Little Night Music" starring Catherine Zeta-Jones and Angela Lansbury. Then came Irving Berlin's "White Christmas" with its lovely and lively production numbers, gorgeous costumes and, of course, all that fabulous familiar music.

On Thursday, as I stood in the taxi line at my hotel, however, things took a decidedly unexpected turn. I noticed a couple of men running by, one of them shouting at the other. Not two seconds later, shots were fired. As I whirled around to look, more shots were fired, less than fifty feet from where I was standing. One man was on the ground, the other over him with a gun shouting for someone to call 911.

And then more police officers than I'd ever seen assembled outside of a parade unit, descended on the area from every direction, some on horseback, all with guns drawn, while those of us in the taxi line took cover behind anything we could until things seemed to be under control.

Of course, the old journalist in me wanted to rush over and start asking questions, but the sensible author studied the chaos, determined that I wouldn't be getting a taxi there anytime soon and wandered off to Broadway in search of a cab to take me to my celebratory holiday lunch with my editor, agent and my agent's staff. Never let it be said that a mere shootout deters me from a festive occasion.

By the time I returned to the hotel later in the afternoon, police tape had cordoned off a huge area of Times Square while the police investigated. As later reported by others, an undercover officer had spotted a street hustler he recognized, tried to question him and the chase ensued. The hustler, who apparently had a record for hassling tourists, pulled out a semiautomatic and fired at the officer. Thankfully, his weapon jammed after the second shot and he was killed by the officer or things could have ended a whole lot more tragically for dozens of innocent bystanders.

For me I think the most shocking aspect of this entire episode was that it happened in the blink of an eye. It's a reminder to me and all of us to pay attention to our surroundings at all times, especially at this time of the year. Perhaps if I'd listened a little more closely to what was being shouted by the man I now know was a policeman, I'd have sensed the danger and not just found the behavior a bit off. Of course, hindsight is always 20-20. The key is to be alert whenever we're out and about for things that strike us as odd. And don't be afraid to report it, because who knows what crime you might prevent. Be careful in parking lots as you shop. Hold your purses safely in front of you. Guard credit cards. Just be cautious.

Wishing you all a joyous -- and safe -- holiday season.

Sherryl Woods

Managing a Tiger

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 14:00:00 +0000

For years now, according to most published reports, Tiger Woods has maintained a very tight control over his public image. That all changed last weekend following a middle of the night accident in which he slammed his car into a fire hydrant and tree outside of his Orlando area home.

Within very little time nearby streets were lined with camera crews and journalists trying to find out what actually happened. Tiger remained mostly mum, issuing only terse statements via his website. And then the tabloids and others stepped in to fill the void. Tales of affairs were suddenly all over the airwaves. So was wild speculation. For all of the tight control Tiger Woods has maintained over the years, somebody failed to tell him the single most important lesson: Nature abhors a vacuum. In other words, all that silence will be filled, and the more outrageous and damaging stories will find their way to the surface because the one person who could clear things up won't speak.

Believe me, I totally sympathize with his desire for privacy to salvage his marriage and right whatever wrongs he's done. But there's something surprisingly naive in thinking he can do that in seclusion while an avid public awaits answers. Not that his private life is any of our business, of course, but in this day and age we've all become celebrity watchers to one degree or another. The Internet feeds that insatiable need to know in ways that the tabloids once did. Only now it's instantaneous and not necessarily accurate.

From what I've read, it seems Tiger's friend Charles Barkley had it just right. Barkley said Tiger should have issued a public statement very early on and put the whole thing to rest. Acknowledging a misdeed in the beginning ends the wild speculation. It silences the stories in a way that evasions do not. Didn't we learn that lesson from President Clinton? Once people have the truth, they move on. When they're told a lie or half-truth, they keep digging for more.

Over my years as a journalist, the people I admired the most where those who put the truth on the line. After all, what's left to say once the facts are out there? "I did it. I was wrong. I intend to fix it." It can be as simple as that. People may judge you. People may give you a pass. But they won't add liar to your list of sins.

So, while most of us will never have to deal with our mistakes in such a public way, there are a few lessons we can take from what's happened to Tiger. Acknowledge our mistakes. Apologize to those we've hurt. And ask for forgiveness. Man up, as it were. In the end, it's not so much our accomplishments that distinguish us -- and Tiger Woods has many -- but the way we handle the crises. It's a lesson he's learning in the most painful way possible.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on all this. Just click on comments below.

Sherryl Woods

Blessings...large and small

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 13:27:00 +0000

It's the time of the year when all of us pay a bit more attention than usual to the blessings in our lives. We're thankful for family and friends, for good health, hopefully for the jobs we have or the prospects for work on the horizon. Many families even enjoy a tradition of going around the table on Thanksgiving and having each person mention that for which they're most grateful.

While this special occasion encourages us to stop and think about every way in which we're blessed, I'd like to encourage all of you to spend more time throughout the year thinking about the small blessings that come along, the moments that bring you joy. It's lives filled with a thousand small moments, it seems to me, that are the most fulfilling. Unfortunately in the hustle and bustle of our daily lives we forget to take note of those little things. The first person to advise us to stop and smell the roses knew exactly what he or she was talking about.

Although I can't swear I do this every day or that I've done it all my life, I try really hard to seize the brief moments during the course of the day which make me happy. Trust me, these are not always monumental.

Today, for instance, as I was picking up groceries I finally -- after multiple excursions -- found the Mrs. Smiths pumpkin pie that has been our family tradition as far back as I can remember. Just yesterday, when I'd failed yet again, I was thinking that Thanksgiving just wouldn't be the same without my favorite pumpkin pie. Today, I practically danced out of the store. Discovering it tucked into a freezer section in the middle of nowhere, not even remotely close to other pies, was pure happenstance, a blessing, if you will.

I also happen to have a thing for both sunrises and sunsets. Often in Virginia, as I drive along the waterfront at dawn, the sky and river will streak with brilliant shades of gold and orange. I've been known to stop and applaud, mumuring, "Yea, God!" This could be why people look at me oddly from time to time, as they do when I pause to lecture the ducks meandering across the road, but that's another story. Aren't all authors known for being charmingly eccentric?

I consider it a blessing when the perfect parking spot opens up in a crowded lot, when I find the ideal gift for someone on the very first try, when my goddaughter's youngest son sends me a drawing of the two of us playing Go Fish on our vacation last summer in the Outer Banks.

These are not the monumental blessings on which we tend to focus on Thanksgiving, but they are the kind that make our days happier, our lives richer. We need to pay attention to them, embrace them, even if only for a second of acknowledgement

So, this Thanksgiving I wish you an abundance of blessings, large and small and, yes, a perfectly roasted turkey counts!

Sherryl Woods

A new meaning to going postal

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:00:00 +0000

The United States Postal Service is in financial trouble. Have you heard? Even if you haven't read the details, you've probably seen the evidence of this at your local post office.

The first time I knew things were seriously awry, I arrived at my local post office in Virginia to find that it no longer opened at 8:30 a.m. It was opening at 9, closing at 4:30 and closing during the lunch hour, supposedly just for the summer. Then the changes were announced as permanent. None of these changes make much sense for customers who happen to have jobs. Try getting away from work at mid-morning or mid-afternoon to mail a care package to the kids at college or a Christmas present to someone far away. And try to imagine the lines during those shortened hours as the holiday season approaches.

When I returned later on the same day, at mid-afternoon, I discovered that most of the place was in the dark. The only lights functioning were in the lobby and directly over the counter. Yet another cost-cutting measure. The whole place was eerily silent.

A few days later, a friend who handles bulk permit mailings for his church was sputtering with outrage. The local post office would no longer accept the mailings. He'd have to drive them to the next county, wasting time and gas. The logic of this one completely eludes me, so if some postmaster somewhere reads this, please explain it.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I concluded that this had something to do with the post office being in a smaller, more rural location. I didn't anticipate these kind of changes carrying over to a major metropolitan area, but I was wrong.

On Friday, I went to my local post office in Miami at 8:30, only to discover that it too wasn't opening till 9. I was annoyed, but not shocked. I was running errands off of my island, so went to another post office in another community. By then it was after 9. That post office wasn't scheduled to open until 10 a.m. On my third try, I found a post office that was actually open and -- surprise, surprise -- very busy. When I commented to the clerk that driving around to three different post offices to find one open was enough to force me to send all of my packages via FedEx, he said, "Sure, if you want to pay more." I explained the concept of customer service and added that my time is a whole lot more valuable than whatever cost difference might arise. I don't think he got it. Let me add that I just bought nearly $1,800 worth of stamps for my next postcard mailing, so I'm not really the kind of customer they should want to lose.

I mentioned all of this to a friend up in Virginia yesterday and she, dealing with those inconvenient, shortened hours there, went on a rant of her own. She said a nearby community had officially blown a fuse over the new hours and they'd been changed back. Ours had not been, quite probably because no town official had taken on the postal service.

I understand the need to take sometimes drastic cost-cutting measures in tough economic times, but does it make sense to anyone to make things so inconvenient for customers that they look for other ways of conducting business? I think I could actually accept the idea of mail delivery on only five days of the week, rather than these erratic cutbacks of hours that seem to vary from location to location.

I'd love to hear what's happening in your community, especially if you live in a rural area. Has your local branch closed, cut hours, turned out the lights? Click on comments below or email me directly at Sherryl703@gmail.com.

Sherryl Woods

Cool as a cucumber

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 13:10:00 +0000

Are you familiar with the expression? I've always been fascinated by how many of us, who come unglued over little things, can remain perfectly calm in a crisis. This weekend brought that home for me yet again.

On Friday I had to deal with a credit card company which apparently has some serious lapses not only in logic, but in follow-up. Suffice it to say that despite written notification of my change of address to Florida and a phone call -- which did successfully get the Florida phone number into the system -- they claim to never have gotten the message about the address. Their oversight has created several extremely annoying moments, but nothing cataclysmic. Still, I was not calm. Some -- the telephone representative comes to mind -- might even say I was one degree this side of ballistic.

However on Saturday when my computer crashed just as I completed chapter thirteen (Hmmmm?) of the new Chesapeake Shores Christmas book, I was calm, cool and collected. I quickly looked up the number for my computer repair shop, asked if they could still find a battery for my dinosaur of a laptop, virtually hugged the repairman who tracked it down, happily accepted the cost of the battery, merrily embraced the cost of shipping. I was, in fact, so darn cheerful, he said he'd never had a more agreeable customer. Too bad he and the credit card rep can't compare notes. At any rate, staring writing disaster in the face, I didn't even flinch.

How many of us are this way? When the big things come along -- a health scare, a child's broken arm, a car accident -- we just dig in and deal with it. However, let those water torture drips of day in and day out annoyances come along and we lose it. Maybe it's just the frustration of dealing with so many of life's little glitches. Maybe it's accumlated anger from all the times we've kept silent over the big things. Who knows?

It happens in relationships, too. We keep quiet over a dozen big incidents involving family or friends, sometimes with the single goal of keeping the peace. And then one minor slip -- your husband forgets to pick up milk, the kids leave the towels in a soggy mess on the bathroom floor, a friend makes an off-hand comment about the color of your dress -- and World War III breaks out.

I suppose it would be a lot healthier for all of us if we didn't let the frustrations accumulate, if we said something when we're annoyed, but as a character on a TV sit com said in a recent episode, too often we tell ourselves it's not worth the fight. That's all well and good if we truly let go of the anger. If we don't, though, if we let the resentment simmer, watch out. Stress and high blood pressure can be right around the corner.

When was the last time you blew a gasket over something that didn't really matter, while breezing through a crisis? Do you have a trick or two for staying cool and calm under all circumstances? I'd love if you would share them.

Meantime, keep your fingers crossed that my new battery shows up on schedule and that I'm back in the writing business by mid-week. Otherwise that wonderfully accommodating repairman could move to the top of my list for the next big tantrum.

Sherryl Woods

My mechanic and me...a love story

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 14:16:00 +0000

Bet that got your attention, and it is almost exactly as it seems. I have had a mostly adoring relationship with my auto mechanics over the years. A good one is oh-so-hard to find. But once you have the right guy, one who's honest to a fault, who can pinpoint a problem with unerring accuracy on the very first try, do not let him get away.

Years ago, I used to joke that the very best reason for getting married was to have someone who'd take the car to the garage when it needed repairs. I naively believed that's how it worked. Men dealt with cars and -- oh, sexist me -- women got to deal with the fun stuff. Then I discovered that almost every one of my friends not only took their own cars in for repairs, they took their husbands' cars, too. I was very distraught after learning this.

And then one day, when I had my car at the shop I then used on Miami Beach -- mostly because the mechanic was a very cute and courtly Cuban guy -- I mentioned my philosophy to him. He beamed back at me. "No problem," he said eagerly. "We marry and I fix in the driveway!" I should have taken the deal.

To this day, whenever the slightest thing goes wrong with my car, I'm the one who feels like a failure. Apparently I have a very weird attachment to that hunk of metal and mechanical stuff. Just before leaving for Florida this fall, I had a tire that was going distressingly flat. Not that I could tell immediately since low profile tires always look flat to me...but that's another gripe. In a panic, I pumped in a bunch of air and raced to the next county to my current favorite mechanic. I threw myself on his mercy, or his wife's actually because she holds the key to actually getting inside that garage. No big deal as it turned out. Just a nail. The tire was plugged and I was on my way in a half-hour. I still felt as if I'd failed my car.

Then on Wednesday, it started going low again. Same tire. I looked for a nail. I looked for an air compressor. Then I looked for the mechanic who eats breakfast where I do...every day but the one on which I needed him. By the time I found him...at the grocery store...I had a bag of frozen food and no time. I pumped the tire full of air and said a little prayer. As of today, the air's still in the tire. Quite possibly, so is a nail. At least, though, I'm on high alert to the slightest change in air pressure. Like Scarlett, I'll deal with it tomorrow...or the day after.

This has all reminded me of how totally reliant we are on our vehicles as we go about our daily lives and, thus, how critical a reliable mechanic is to our lives. The mechanic I use in Virginia told me a couple of years ago when we were discussing various new car options that I needed to stick with the make I currently had because anything else would probably drive me insane...and by extension him. I don't cope well with the unexpected little glitches many cars are prone to.

Then, again, if I were to track down that once amorous mechanic of mine and his offer were still on the table, perhaps all of this would be moot. I'd be at the courthouse in front of a judge by noon...and my car would live happily ever after.

Sherryl Woods

Wait, what city am I in?

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 12:15:00 +0000

I've been travelling again, which is always a reminder to me of just how much we've turned some aspects of our cities into carbon copies of other places.

This is most obvious, of course, in malls. Once you walk through the doors of the typical mall, other than some variation in general decor or modern updates, you will find the same stores, which means every woman in America can find their bras at Victoria's Secret, their T-shirts at the Gap, clothes for the grandkids at Baby Gap, ice cream at Ben & Jerry's or Haagen-Daz, skin potions at Bath & Body Works and so on. After a few minutes, it's easy to forget what city you're in, much less which state.

Back out on the streets, there's a Starbucks every few blocks, a collection of familiar fast food restaurants. We've come to expect that no matter where we travel, we'll be able to get our favorite hamburger or coffee fix.

More surprising to me, however, was the discovery on this trip that features I thought were unique to my local television stations in Washington, DC, aren't unique at all. I suppose this shouldn't have come as such a shock. After all, even when I was reporting on the television industry a very long time ago, there were companies that sold the same on-air promotional themes and packages to news departments across the country. I didn't think, though, that the same kind of syndication would have lapped over into news content.

To be specific, my local CBS affiliate began some time ago promoting a Moms Like Me website and inviting local viewers to sign on for information, discounts, blogs and so on. Much to my surprise, I found the exact same website promoted by another CBS station in South Carolina. I suppose this wouldn't matter had not the implication by both been that this was a local feature being offered solely to their viewers.

Then, not minutes later, there was a Heroes Central report featuring a hero from the community. While the individual in the spotlight was local, the Heroes Central packaging was not, right down to the identical logo.

This got me to wondering just how widespread these two specific packages are. If one of your local stations promotes the Moms Like Me website or has a Heroes Central segment on your news, click on comments below and tell me about it. Were you aware that it didn't originate with your local station? Does that even matter to you? I'd love to hear your reactions. Be sure to include your city in your response.

Sherryl Woods

The art of paying attention

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 09:09:00 +0000

I was watching the last couple of minutes of a rerun of a TV sit-com last night as two people chatted away, while the people to whom they were speaking were spacing out and thinking about something else entirely. It cracked me up because lately I've been wondering if anybody ever pays attention to a word I say. Men, in general, seem to have a very short attention span.

I first noticed this years ago with my Dad. I'd fill him in on some upcoming event, make a comment on the news, tell him some piece of neighborhood gossip to which he might eventually say something like, "What did you say?" That's if he noticed I'd been talking at all. Mostly he'd come back to me days later and tell me the same thing I told him, completely oblivious to the fact that I'd said it days before. He also had what we liked refer to as selective hearing. He might not hear anything I said to his face, but let me whisper something on the phone while he was at the other end of the house and he could repeat every word I'd said.

A male friend once called me really excited about a plan he thought we ought to consider for an organization to which we both belonged. "What do you think?" he asked, clearly thrilled with himself. "Great," I told him. "I thought it was a fabulous idea when I told you about it last week."

This week two people -- yes, men -- with whom I speak regularly reacted with great surprise when I told them the target date for my Florida departure. I'd told them both more than once. My life and my plans are hardly ever announced for last-minute shock value, yet you'd think I'd done that this time.

Short of shaking the person to whom I'm speaking to make absolutely certain I have their full, undivided attention or writing notes on their hands, I'm at a loss. If anyone has mastered the art of actually being heard, please tell me about how you accomplished it. Hurry before I decide to go into seclusion and talk only to myself.

Sherryl Woods

Give my regards to Broadway...

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 10:22:00 +0000

I'm just back from a week in New York, mostly doing some business, but also helping a friend celebrate a milestone birthday. If you're going to celebrate, this is the place to do it, especially if you love theater as we do. We managed to cram in three shows, plus a very special jazz performance. And all of it reminded me of just how much I enjoy this kind of thing, though I must admit I came home exhausted. Being in NY pretty much requires that I stay up long past my preferred bedtime.

Still, if a New York trip happens to be in your future, I have some recommendations.

We started with the Tony-winning musical, Billy Elliot, which has not only some amazing dance and performances, but everything from broad humor to moments that brought me to tears. It was fantastic and deserved every single award it won. Can't get to New York? Try the movie, if you haven't already seen it. Music for the play, by the way, is by Elton John.

The next night we saw Burn the Floor, which is strictly ballroom dancing, rather than a play. The title pretty much tells you everything you need to know. The international cast of dancers is absolutely incredible. Though stars from Dancing with the Stars appeared early in the run, it was Anya and Pasha from So You Think You Can Dance, who appeared in this version. We were in the second row, which meant on occasion we were just about literally surrounded by dancers. Anyone who doesn't think of dance as exercise or athleticism hasn't seen these dancers up close. Oh my!!!

From that, it was on to South Pacific at Lincoln Center on Saturday. This lovely musical, filled with memorable songs, was first on stage in 1949, but this revival managed to feel contemporary with its issue of racial bias at its core. After seeing it, I discovered that the lead actress had actually been on the NBC show which cast for the revival of Grease a couple of years back. She's obviously made her mark on Broadway with this award-winning production on the heels of doing Grease.

That same day we went to Jazz at Lincoln Center for performances at Dizzy's Club Coca-Cola. The quartet was terrific, the pianist/leader absolutely amazing (somehow keeping four different beats at once -- one per hand and one per foot), but the show stopper for me was the night view of Central Park and the Fifth Avenue skyline just behind the band.

In the midst of all this, I stumbled upon the American Folk Art Museum, which has the 9/11 Tribute Quilt on display in the lobby. To see it on the weekend of all of the memorial services was especially touching.

Even though the weather was often dreary, the cab rides terrifying or annoying, and the crowds at times overwhelming, there's just nothing like a visit to New York to reenergize me. Whenever I go, it makes me wonder why I don't go more often. Once a year isn't nearly enough to go everywhere I want to go and see all the plays I want to see.

New York, New York...it is indeed a wonderful town.

Do you have a favorite destination, one that always energizes you? If so, share your travel tips with us by clicking on comments below. I'd love to hear about them. Or if you, too, love New York, tell us about the first time you went there. I remember my first trip...seeing Julie Andrews in The Boyfriend (she and I were both very young!) and having dinner at the famed Stork Club.

Sherryl

Making the minutes count...not counting the minutes

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 10:26:00 +0000

How many times, while waiting for something special to happen in your life, have you told someone, "I'm counting the minutes until...?" We've all done it. Lately, though, I'm wondering if we're not thinking of time in the wrong way. Maybe instead of letting it pass to get to whatever event we're excited about, we should be focusing on making all of those lost minutes count.

Just yesterday, I was having my usual Sunday morning breakfast with a friend, who happens to be a minister. He was telling me that a friend had just suggested to him that he write an article for a publication he much admires. His response? "Where would I find the time?"

That conversation reminded me yet again that we all make time for the things that matter to us. If we shrug off an opportunity with the excuse that there's no time, it's because we're just not that interested in doing it.

Every single one of us leads a busy life. We have work and family obligations. We have things we enjoy doing, whether it's watching sports on TV or gardening or reading. We have the little things we've agreed to do for a committee at church or school. But when it comes to those extra commitments, sometimes the ones that matter most, we seize on just how busy we are to excuse ourselves from taking on more.

I recall years ago hearing the adage that if you want something done, ask a busy person. It's because the busiest among us have learned to organize their lives, to fit in what matters. I thought of this again in watching the coverage of Senator Ted Kennedy's death, or, more importantly, his life. Listening to his sons talk about how he was there for them, listening to the Massachusetts families who'd lost a loved one in 9/11, talk about how he'd reached out to them and kept in touch, and listening to school children in Washington, DC talk about their friend who came to school on his lunch hour to read with them, I realized all the ways in which he made time for the things that were important.

My schedule is far less cluttered than Senator Kennedy's. It may even be less cluttered than yours. There are minutes and probably hours in there that could be put to better use helping a child to read or comforting a sick child in a hospital or any of a hundred other things that really matter. I just have to readjust my thinking and stop counting those minutes until the special events, and making all those little minutes count.

How about you? Are there things you've said no to doing that would make your life richer, or maybe the life of someone else? Think about it next time someone offers you an opportunity to help. Better yet, go out and find that opportunity.

Sherryl

A virtually fit Mii

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 13:14:00 +0000

It has taken me a lot of years, but I have finally found a way to fitness that I enjoy. Over the years I've tried many things, some of which have been reported on this blog. Remember the workout sessions last winter with the trainer? Many years earlier, I jogged, though that was a pretty loose description of my lumbering through the streets of Miami Beach. Then came actually joyful years playing tennis. Then came what is best described as the great decline.

I could offer a lot of explanations for falling off the fitness wagon, but they'd just be excuses. The truth is that most things, except for tennis, bored me to tears, so I flat-out didn't do them. Since my knee issues have kept me off a tennis court, I've done nothing.

And now there is Wii!!!!!! Wii bowling! Wii Fit! And, oh joyful day, Wii tennis!!

My days now have a new structure. I'm up before dawn, at my computer to write through the morning, lunch at home or out with friends and by 2 p.m. I am getting fit. At least in virtual reality, if not in fact. I have mastered (well, almost) several yoga poses. I've done a few aerobic exercises. But my very favorite, despite my pitiful attempts to do them, are the balance exercises. I can't tell you how many downhill slaaloms I've done and every single time I stand at the top of the mountain I am convinced I will ski faster and more accurately than ever before. Sadly, I do not. Since the game takes only a minute, I do it again...and again...and again. When I set a new record, which I seldom do, my virtual Mii and I both dance around like lunatics. Hopefully my neighbors can't see in my window.

Having put in my 30 minutes or so on the Wii Fit, after dinner I get to my favorite part, the tennis. My backhand is wicked, as good as it ever was when I played in a league. My forehand is lousy, as it often was back then. And my play at the net? Well, let's just say that my Mii spends a lot of time running, falling and virtually cussing...just like the real life me. Still, this is fulfilling my long-neglected love of playing tennis. If I thought I could move fast enough on a court, I'd be back out there now...and maybe in a couple of months I will be. In the meantime, a half-hour of virtual victories is doing wonders for my endorphins.

As I play these various games, I think about the kids I know who are equally hooked. How much better to see them playing virtual sports than sitting at a computer or with a video game control in hand which provides a workout only for their fingers. Though Wii can be played alone, it also encourages competition, another social skill that was sadly lacking in some older games. For those things alone, it's worth the investment for family entertainment.

Now if only they'd create a virtual Mii who could write my books, life would be very good indeed!

Sherryl

When the "Light" goes out...

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 14:23:00 +0000

I've been in mourning for a while now, ever since CBS announced the cancellation of The Guiding Light. Now that the final airdate is rapidly approaching, it's getting harder and harder for me to face not having the Bauers, the Spauldings and the Coopers in my life anymore.

Yes, soaps are among my favorite things, a not-so-guilty pleasure.

I suppose the addiction goes back to childhood when I'd listen to soaps on the radio with my mother, but it came back with a vengeance during my years as a television critic when I was stuck at home with a broken ankle and a cast up to my hip for weeks on end during one interminable winter. Though daytime TV was theoretically part of my job all the time, during this period I became addicted to it all over again. I wrote columns about all the shows on the air, especially my favorites...The Young and the Restless, As the World Turns and The Guiding Light.

I was always willing, if not downright eager to interview soap stars, unlike many of my colleagues. I became friends with a couple of them...Paul Gleason who was then on All My Children and Don Stewart, who played Mike Bauer on The Guiding Light. I often saw them in New York, met them for drinks or lunch.

On one particularly memorable occasion I had lunch with Don, who invited me back to the set, thinking, I'm sure, that he was with a semi-sophisticated journalist. As I walked through the set, however, I was wide-eyed with awe, exclaiming things like, "Oh my, it's Ed's office," or "Wow, this is Sarah's living room." Before his eyes I'd been transformed from journalist to pure fan, caught up in the world that captivated me every day.

To think that that world, which has enticed viewers for decades, will be no more after mid-September breaks my heart. I could lay the blame for that where the network does, on dwindling viewership and changing times, but instead I lay a lot of it on the network and local stations who've treated soaps more and more shabbily in recent years. The shows are preempted at the drop of a hat, interrupted for so-called breaking news that could easily wait a few more minutes. In some markets The Guiding Light was taken off the air in the afternoon and shifted to various morning times.

Of course, the show itself has made its share of mis-steps, but ironically it has been better than ever in recent months. Favorite characters have been brought back in solid storylines, reminding all of us why we've cared and why the show has endured. Phillip's back, along with Ed Bauer, Michelle, Jonathan and so many other beloved characters played by incredibly talented actors who too often don't get the credit they deserve. The writers are playing to the show's history and its strengths...focusing on family and relationships. Each episode is filled with a mix of laughter and tears.

For weeks now, I've been hoping for a reprieve. There was talk of the show being picked up by a cable network, but to date that apparently hasn't happened, so the end is in sight. One more loss to be chalked up to changing times.

At least, though, when the "Light" does go off for the final time, it will be doing so with honor and integrity, with stories that engage and actors who can make us care. The show's devoted following deserves no less, though we want much, much more.

Sherryl Woods

I

Defining 'pure evil'

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 15:04:00 +0000

I feel as if I've been here before, pleading for people to stop amping up the rhetoric, spewing fear tactics not even remotely based in fact, all to achieve a political goal. Talk about pure evil. That's my definition.

Take, for instance, the current hysteria being fostered by some to avoid necessary changes to our health care system. It doesn't take much to stir fear and loathing. Just mention ridiculous things like so-called "death panels," "socialized medicine" and my very favorite, the suggestion that somehow President Obama in his zeal to create change is comparable to Hitler.

Now I am the last person in the country to say that I endorse every single item in the proposed health care reform. For one thing I haven't read every paragraph in the bill. Neither, I suspect, have most of the people who are waving signs, shouting and generally creating chaos in the town hall meetings around the country. They're there because someone's told them they're going to lose their current medical benefits, because someone has planted the notion that some "death squad" will decide whether the elderly live or die. I've read enough and listened enough to know that neither of those things are true. And the people who've raised that sceptre of fear are the ones who are "pure evil."

I certainly understand the fear, and I know these are people who are genuinely opposed to the changes they fear might be coming. But when was the last time a shouting match accomplished anything? Seek first to understand. That's a lesson I was taught a long time ago. But none of these folks are listening or even attempting to learn the facts. They're reading or listening to the venom spewed by certain politicians and commentators designed to defeat, rather than improve a necessary bill. People who are shouting down their congressmen aren't seeking a better bill based on logic and an informed opinion. They're acting out of panic.

I seriously doubt that a single one of them could mount an argument that our health care system doesn't need to change. Costs are skyrocketing. Millions of hard-working citizens are uninsured because they can't afford insurance. Many others are prevented from getting insurance -- at any cost -- because of pre-existing conditions. And some of these people, many of them children, may die because the public clinics that serve them are over-crowded and understaffed and the wait for an appointment may take too long. That's my definition of a de facto "death panel" and it exists right now, simply because of an overburdened system.

I would love to see a town hall meeting where people air their opinions and actually listen to the responses, where information is sought and shouting is quieted so the facts can be shared. Will all of us agree on whatever final bill emerges from Congress? Probably not. But the best bill will come from thoughtful discussions and compromise, not from shouted threats. It's way past time to tone it down.

Sherryl Woods

Forget the generation gap. It's a chasm.

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 13:09:00 +0000

I like to think I understand the younger generation. It's probably a delusion, but I do pay attention to what kids are doing and saying, not just so they're credible in my books, but because they're interesting.

For a very long time, I've heard people talk about a generation gap, and I thought I understood that, too. Every generation has its differences in music and pop culture, even to some degree in its value system and political beliefs. Now, however, it seems the gap has widened into a chasm when it comes to how we get our news, assuming we pay attention at all.

For a news junkie like me, who worked for several newspapers, covered television and network news for daily papers in Ohio and Florida, it was tough enough when I realized that more people were getting their insights into the world from two-minute (or less) reports on the evening news than from the in-depth reporting in a morning paper. Journalists of my era even jokingly referred to USA Today as being the McDonald's of the news business, offering bite-size, fast-serve bits of news. These days I'd be grateful if more people were even getting that much from a newspaper.

Instead, it seems the thump of the morning paper on the front lawn has been exchanged for flipping a switch on the computer and glancing at headlines en route to emails. Way too many people, it seems to me, are getting their "news" from blogs, which often have far more opinions than facts.

It's said that newspapers will eventually vanish unless they find a way to reinvent themselves. Young people don't care about them and too many in my generation distrust them. How sad, and frightening. Freedom of the press was included in the Constitution for a reason. A free society needs a free press to keep a watch on the world, to be alert to the insidious corruption that goes on far too often, to keep politicians in check, to remind us of the sacrifices of war and to take note of those who die to protect us.

Some would say the Internet now fills that role. I suppose some news-affiliated sites do, but I wager if you ask a dozen people whether they got their information from a journalist or a blogger with a personal bias, far too many would list the bloggers without even realizing -- or caring --what a difference there is.

Beyond that, the oldtimer in me wants a newspaper in my hands each morning, much as I want an actual book in my hands when I'm reading on the porch in the afternoon. I want to flip from news to sports to Sudoku. I want to check the movie listings and the stock reports, all in one convenient place that doesn't involve staring at a computer screen, which I have to do for far too much of each day. Kids, however, have grown up with a computer mouse all but attached to the end of their arm. It's as much second nature to them as breathing.

There's also the allure for some that it's all free online. There's no payment for a subscription or dropping $6 for the Sunday New York Times at Starbucks. What a rude awakening it will be when sites start charging for content, as Fox News announced it would just this week. If other news sites follow suit, then I suspect young people with a penchant for "free" will spend even less time on news sites and turn more to blogs.

Perhaps this shouldn't worry me as much as it does. After all, I am a blogger. And even though I am a journalist as well and check my facts carefully, this is, after all, my opinion. It's not hard news. And the difference is monumental and important.

Sherryl

Sixteen candles...and then some!

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 14:30:00 +0000

There are various schools of thought when it comes to birthdays, some of them having a whole lot to do with how old you are. It's always seemed to me that women, especially, make a mistake trying to pass themselves off as being younger than they are. For instance, I look really, really good for eighty. Maybe not so terrific, if I'm trying to get anyone to believe I'm still 40 or even 50.

That said, I've always subscribed to the philosophy that birthdays should be treated as special occasions. Chances are that within your own circle of family and friends, no one shares this same date with you. It's yours, and should be celebrated with all due pomp and ceremony. Maybe that's the only child in me. Or the Leo. Hard to say.

In recent years, however, for one reason or another, every birthday celebration I've planned, whether a trip or just a special outing, has gone awry and had to be cancelled. This year I decided to make up for all those missed opportunities. I've basically been celebrating for most of the entire month of July.

I began by writing as fast as I could to meet every deadline for the three new Sweet Magnolias books to be published next spring. That bought me time off.

Then I arranged for a house in the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a week for me and my Ohio "family," fourteen of us in all, many of whom happen to have birthdays and anniversaries in July. I wasn't sure how well I'd do surrounded by all this commotion -- there were six kids ranging in age from 1 to 14. It was fabulous. I loved every single minute of it, even though I lost countless games of Old Maid, Go Fish, Uno and Scrabble.

This should have been enough celebration even for me, but I decided to throw a party a week later and invited friends from all over. There were 75 people in all, including a few I didn't even recognize who turned out to be friends from childhood I hadn't seen since high school. We had a rock 'n roll band, plenty of food and a whole lot of laughter. I had company off and on for most of a week pre- and post-party.

Needless to say, all of this hoopa came at a cost, and I'm not talking dollars. I'm exhausted. I'm pretty sure every time I've been seated for more than two minutes, I've fallen askeep. It was worth it, though. I've stockpiled a whole bunch of new memories to last till the next milestone comes around.

Bottom line, I highly recommend not waiting for others to plan the celebration of a lifetime. Plan it yourself, whether it's a trip you've been dying to take or a small gathering of family and friends. Don't put it off. No matter how old we may be, we have no way of knowing how many chances we'll have to celebrate the living we've already done. Do it now. You deserve it!

Sherryl

Celebrity fascination...even in death

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 11:38:00 +0000

I have to admit that I've been fascinated the past week or so, not so much with the deaths of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett, but with public and media reaction to them.

Obviously these are two iconic figures in popular culture, Jackson for his contributions to the music world, and Farrah, well, for her beauty as much as for her acting skills. But the amount of attention devoted to both pretty much astounds me.

Maybe that's because I've never really been any kind of a groupie..be it music, sports, TV or anything else. Don't get me wrong. I truly love baseball. I watch my Florida Marlins whenever I get the chance. I try to make it to at least one spring training game. I love tennis...especially Rafael Nadal. And I am absolutely crazy about a whole host of country music singers.

A few years back I was fascinated when a customer at my store who was visiting from Paris told me her daughter had played with Nadal in a pro-am charity event prior to the French Open. I practically grilled the girl, who was maybe 12. She looked at me curiously and inquired, "Aren't you married?" As if that would have anything to do with me being slightly ga-ga over the talented tennis pro. Still, I don't rush off to get a glimpse of him, even when he's playing right in my own backyard (so to speak) on Key Biscayne.

And though I am a huge fan of Trace Adkins, who has the ultimate bad boy glint in his eyes when he sings, I can't seem to muster up the energy to cross the river to see him when he performs this weekend in Maryland. I'm content to watch the videos on CMT and buy his CDs. Though if he did happen to cross the bridge in my direction, I can't swear that my reaction would be this nonchalant.

Obviously that's just me, because millions of people have poured to Encino, CA, to the Apollo Theater in New York and elsewhere to honor Michael Jackson. People have been glued to their TVs, grabbing up CDs and other memorabilia, all to somehow be a part of the mourning of the legend's passing.

The media has spent countless hours providing the very intimate details of his death, as well as Farrah's. Do we really need to know all this? Do we care that deeply? Or is this some other phenomenon, proof that even the most celebrated are mortal?

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Just click on comments here or send me an email at Sherryl703@gmail.com.

Sherryl

A delicate balancing act

noreply@blogger.com (Just Between Friends) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 15:08:00 +0000

I've written before about the difficulty of a generation trying to care for kids and their own families, right along with aging parents. Lately, though, I've been trying to balance the needs of an elderly aunt with her own desires. Believe me, when dealing with someone who possesses the stubborn Woods genes this isn't easy.

My 96-year-old aunt, who has no kids of her own, hit a rough patch over the winter. From Christmas day until early May she was in and out of hospitals and rehab. Some situations were better than others, but none were to her liking. My cousins and I have always promised we'd do all we could to keep her at home, as long as she cooperated by doing whatever was necessary for her own safety. In theory, she agreed.

Now, however, with reality setting in that she needs a live-in caregiver, she's not half as cooperative as we'd always hoped. I try to time my weekly visits -- she lives two hours away from me -- so I can chat with the visiting nurse or physical therapist to get some idea of what kind of progress she's making. Instead, most of the time I listen to a litany of complaints about how much she's paying for food for two people, instead of what she paid when she was living there alone. She wants to cut back care to a few hours a day...even though she's barely walking and certainly couldn't prepare her own meals. My cousins and I have repeatedly balked. It's created some tension. I suppose one of these days, she could simply fire the help, but we keep praying she won't.

On the one hand, I understand exactly how she feels. It must be incredibly difficult after living that many years independently to suddenly have someone else underfoot. On the other, it's frustrating to have her not see that for now she needs the help. It's been difficult for all of us, maybe more so because we're not dealing with a parent, but an aunt. It's even trickier for my cousins, who've recently dealt with the deaths of both parents after difficult illnesses. Their patience has worn thin.

If any of you out there have dealt with this with a parent or another elderly relative, I'd love to hear how you've dealt with the difficult decisions. Click on comments below or email me directly at Sherryl703@gmail.com.

Sherryl