There's a Certain Spirit Here

Sunday night we went to a party in our neighborhood of Cottages at Talking Rock Ranch in Prescott. Ours are the smallest homes in the community, so some were laughingly referring to the gathering as a “Party in the ‘Hood”. It was a lovely, mild evening, and we and the other guests spilled out onto the back patio. As at other social events here, everyone was warm and welcoming, and we enjoyed meeting neighbors we hadn’t previously encountered. (We also got to see the neighborhood javelina who near-sightedly trotted within a few yards of the well-lit, noisy patio – much to our delight.)

Our hosts threw the party to welcome several newcomers. We were all asked to explain how we came to live at Talking Rock. Some stories were funny; some surprising. We laughed a lot, a few happy tears were shed, and one tragic story of loss resulted in a group hug. Although there had been some initial resistance to the exercise, everyone gave in and participated, contributing our part. I’m really glad we all did.

Days later, I’m still thinking about the party and the common denominators among the residents here. Everyone commented, in one way or another, about how special it is here at Talking Rock. Many have chosen this place to start a new life that is more laid back and, at the same time, very socially active. There is a notable lack of posturing and pretense, and a relaxed and gracious spirit of inclusion. You get the feeling that people that have chosen to live here are at the point in their lives where their priorities are clear and in order. Care and humanity are high on the list.

The stunning beauty and clarity of the desert environment adds a feeling of well-being. The air is fresh and sweet, and the stars in the night sky glow like countless gems. It’s incredibly quiet and peaceful. More than ever, we are convinced that we stumbled into a place that is right for us. Along with our neighbors, we are proud to be part of this community.

Double Nickels

Yesterday, I turned 55 years old. I was born in 1955. Interesting coincidence. Kind of like one of those 10-10-10 things.

I don’t know anything about numerology, but 55 seems like a solid, responsible number. As a speed limit, it’s safe and reserved (compared to high speeds of 65 or 75). As an age, I have crossed into a different, older demographic. I was smugly in the 45-54 range, now I will have to choose the 55-64 group when responding to surveys. Did I just become statistically less relevant? Pfooey.

According to some Christians, the number 5 has Biblical meaning. It is associated with grace and redemption. Then 55 should be doubly good, right? I also read that the rosary of the Virgin Mary was made up of 55 grains.

To me, age is just a number. But having a birthday does make you take stock of where you are in your life. I am more than satisfied. Last night, Ron and I talked about how fortunate we have been. Twenty years ago we couldn’t even have visualized our lives today. Some things work out as planned, and for other developments you must go with the flow – even just survive.

It’s hard to believe that we have been retired for two and a half years. Cancer and corporate stress are behind me. I look ahead to a life of fellowship and grace. Maybe 55 is the gateway to a new chapter for me.

Family Gathering

My entire immediate family gathered for the first time in five years for Mom’s 80th birthday last week. We were joined by Mom’s brother, Jerry and his wife, Elaine. It’s been almost a week since the main event, and I am still thinking about all the fun, talk, laughter, and even a few tears shared while we were together. I’m so thankful to everyone who was there: Mom, Jerry, Elaine, Xandy, Tony, Althea, Shawn, Jason and Ron. Dad would have loved it. I believe he was present in his own way.

What determines how families stay connected as they age? Mom and Dad raised four independent and headstrong individuals who (with emotional and financial help) went our own ways to pursue education, build careers, gain experience, and (in Jason’s case) serve our country. Through trial and error, we each defined the pattern of our adult lives, creating new traditions, finding personal comfort, extending our circle of loved ones through friendships and marriage - all greatly influenced by our upbringing. We are still the same in so many important ways… and yet so, so different now.

For Mom, having the whole family descend on her home in New Hampshire was a happy event; emotional and even a little overwhelming. She lives a pretty quiet life these days, and isn’t used to all the excitement a full house generates. I know that Mom loved having us all there and will be replaying last week’s gathering and celebration in her mind’s eye for a long time. So will I.

As the years pass, each time I say goodbye to Mom is more wrenching. This time, though, we expect to see each other in just three months. Mom and my little sister, Althea, will be visiting me and Ron in Prescott. We’ll look forward to that time, when we can make more memories to cherish.

Hold your loved ones closer to your heart with every passing year. Time is precious, and none of us hang around forever..

Happy Birthday, Mom!

All four of us “kids” will be in New Hampshire this weekend to celebrate Mom’s birthday. Dolores Barbara Roberts Haropulos will be 80 years old. Mom was born in 1930, early in the Great Depression, to Barbara and Frank Roberts. She remembers rationing of butter and sugar, and as a child, longed for a birthday cake with butter icing an inch thick!

Mom met John Haropulos in 1948. He was a WWII veteran, completing his electrical engineering degree at the University of New Hampshire. They married in December 1950. Alexandra Susan was born in 1952, me (Laurel Anne) in 1955, Althea Alene in 1959, and Jason John in 1963. We grew up in Rockville, Maryland. All of us were educated in good public schools, and went to college on our parents’ middle-class incomes, with a little help from academic scholarships and government loans. Our wonderful Dad passed away at the age of 74 in 1999. Mom and Althea share a home in Manchester, NH.

Deciding on a gift for Mom’s birthday was a little challenging. At an age where she has no interest in having more “stuff”, Mom has asked us not to buy her presents. My older sister had a great suggestion – for each of us to write down enough childhood/family memories for Mom to have one for every day of the coming year. We’ll type them up, print them on small pieces of a lightweight card stock, fold them like fortunes, and present them to Mom in some sort of attractive container. Great idea!


Dolores Haropulos 2009

The reality of encouraging my siblings to actually produce their “Memories for Mom” has been a little stressful, given that we are all hopeless procrastinators and the immovable deadline is looming. Speaking for myself, however, the process of recalling the memories has been really pleasant. I have been daydreaming, mentally meandering through my happy childhood, making notes, and smiling or wiping tears. What I’ve received from my sisters and brothers so far has been fun to read, reminding me of things I hadn’t thought of in years, and providing an interesting perspective on what snippets of life have shaped each of us as individuals. I hope the end result of this project is something that will touch our mother…a gift of cherished memories from her children.

Thanks for everything, Mom. We love you.







Fun is Not Overrated

When I was working, I craved time to enjoy more fun. Now that I have more leisure time, I can tell you definitively that fun is not overrated. It replaces frowns with laugh lines, banishes bags from under your eyes, and is conducive to better health and a sound night’s sleep.

Fun makes life feel fuller. It lingers in the mind through pleasant memories. You can replay the best of life via mental snapshots (the way a loved one smiled and laughed with you that beautiful afternoon), or audio you can rewind time after time (of that cool, new rock band jamming at the street fair). Happy memories are stored in your own personal database, where you can take them out and review them whenever you want.

Everyone has their own idea of fun. For me, it could be any one of a number of things, like an afternoon absorbed in a good book, a hot dog and a baseball game, a visit with a dear friend, a gallery opening, or wiggling my toes in warm sand. I think if it generates smiles, warms your heart, or rocks you happily to sleep at night – it’s a keeper.  I'm into pursuing as many of those happy experiences as possible.

Fun also helps put life into perspective. I prefer to have less day-to-day drama now. Life deals us poor humans plenty of real drama, in the form of illness, accident, and misfortune. When people generate their own mini-tragedies, I find it sad. I don’t want to be an enabler of that type of destructive behavior.

Life is complicated and sometimes really serious and difficult. Fun can help make it a lot easier. Make time for it and feed your spirit.

Tired of Political Bi-Polarity

I am disgusted by American politics today. (I probably don’t like any politics – but I am not a historian or an international scholar, so I’ll stick to what I see here on TV and online.)

The blind bi-polarity of our two major parties gets in the way of really constructive discussion, and decisions that actually meet the needs of a majority of the taxed and voting population. Issues are portrayed as black or white, right or wrong, intelligent or stupid, well-intentioned or mean-spirited. How did we become so aggressively divided? It feels like a Civil War.

It’s the rare politician that works effectively with others from the opposite side of the aisle. Shouldn’t that scenario be the norm? Politics shouldn’t be about scoring points, zingy sound bites, and “winning”. They should be about caring public servants working together with the best of intentions to make our country better.

I am not holier than thou. I am passionate about issues, and sometimes get frustrated when other people see things differently. But if there’s one thing I learned from a career in business – that’s when you do your homework so you’re sure you know what you’re talking about, bite your tongue to hush hard words so you don’t ruin relationships, negotiate a middle ground, make a decision for the greater good, and move ahead. Anything else is akin to being stuck in a car in a busy intersection with everyone honking their horns, getting a headache, and going nowhere.

It makes me heartsick to see political attacks ads. I would prefer for a candidate to tell me why they should be elected; not why the other person shouldn’t. Get your digs in (if you must) during a debate, when the opportunity presents itself – in a controlled, factual way.

On Facebook, I sigh when I see people “Like” mean-spirited pages related to politics. Truly, I don’t care whether you Like Sarah Palin or would “Rather Have a Root Canal Procedure” than hear her speak. (And by the way, do you have any idea to whom you have provided your personal Facebook information by Liking that page?) If can’t stand her, turn off the TV when she comes on. When/if she runs for office – don’t vote for her.

I feel a little like the woman who spoke so eloquently at Obama’s recent Town Hall – EXHAUSTED. All the nastiness and bi-polarity are getting in the way of progress for our nation. Let’s try to understand each other’s perspectives and support decisions that are in the best interest of our country and our people. Get involved in civilized conversations without sarcasm about opposing views. Be active in causes about which you care. Get out to vote. And tell your representatives how you expect them to behave.

Now let’s all sing Kumbaya.

Adieu Arnold's

The bad economy has claimed another hapless victim. I’ve been plunged into a cranky funk this week with the news that our local diner, Arnold’s, is closing its doors this weekend after decades of serving the neighborhood.



What will happen to the long time servers, busboys, and line cooks? Where will I have my hangover breakfasts? Arnold’s is only a block away. Almost every day I will have to walk by the empty storefront they leave behind. That’s just cruel.

It may be a little hard to understand why this is such a gut-level blow to me. Arnold’s has been a constant and personal landmark since the last time I lived in this same neighborhood 28 years ago. They are an old-fashioned gem; a greasy spoon where you can get inexpensive, tasty comfort food. Their waitresses recognize us and know our ordering quirks (my sliced tomatoes in place of hash browns and Ron’s extra-hot chorizo and green salsa omelet). I have grudgingly accepted that they don’t have Splenda for my coffee (too expensive for them), so I bring my own. Arnold’s is like grimy old sneakers that really should be tossed out – but they are just too darn comfortable to give up. Now they’re being forcibly taken away from me, and I’m pissed off.

I’ll miss their spinach & feta omelet, corned beef hash with poached eggs, and their simply excellent egg salad sandwich. I’ll miss the smiling and efficient Hispanic waitresses. I’ll miss seeing our bill rung up on a giant old mechanical cash register. I’ll miss overhearing the morning-after conversations of the delightfully diverse clientele. I’ll miss hustling quickly over to Arnold’s on a cold winter day for a stomach-warming breakfast and pot of coffee. Dammit, I'll even miss the cracked green vinyl bench seats repaired with duct tape.  Man, oh man.

The demise of our neighborhood’s favorite diner seems like our first step toward preparing to leave Chicago. Take away the things we enjoy and add new disappointments, and little by little we will begin preparing ourselves to say goodbye to the city we love.

I’m sad. :’(