The Alternative Viewpoint

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BE THE ONE

by B.A. Belthoff

How many times have you witnessed a tragedy on the television and thought you wished you could do something? How many times have you heard a story about a family who fell on hard times and wished you could help? How many more times will opportunity present itself before you realize, you can help?

The power of one. 

We all have it within us to make a difference in someone’s life. Sometimes that difference starts with a small gesture. Giving a passerby a smile may be just what they need in that moment. Taking an extra second to hold the door for the person coming behind you may at first seem polite, but it too, may be just what they need.

Sometimes we witness the power of one on the national stage. Remember in December of 2019 when a genuine, and at times emotional, Joe Burrow accepted the Heisman trophy. In his acceptance speech, Burrow used his platform to bring attention to a very real and pervasive problem in southeast Ohio. The poverty rate in Athens county, Ohio, is 26.6%. Based on 2019 records, that percentage is more than twice as much as the national poverty rate of 11.4%. In his speech, Burrow informed that “… many children go home to not a lot of food on the table and hungry after school.” It’s an area of the country that seems to have been forgotten.

Using the national stage as a catapult, Ohio University graduate Will Drabold started a GoFundMe page for Athens County Food Pantry. Within four days, the page had raised over $400,000. Drabold’s idea to try to make a difference in the lives of those who are struggling grew to be larger than the volunteers at the pantry could have imagined. Food insecurities still exist in Athens County – and elsewhere – so if you have the means, please click the link to donate there, or donate to a food shelter near you. The national poverty rate had been declining for five years, but in 2020, that rate rose a full percentage point. Your donation, large or small can make a difference in someone else’s life. Be the one.

Having national news coverage isn’t a requirement, however. Sometimes all it takes is one person, one idea, one small gesture and a little effort to put the wheels in motion to bring about positive change for others. 

The bicycles you see in the pictures above are the result one person’s idea. Charles Bourgeois is one of my husband’s golfing buddies. He simply asked if anyone wanted to chip in to purchase a couple of bicycles to donate to Cypress Ministries, a local faith-based organization that supports those in need in our community. A desire to bring a little bit of happiness to a few families became larger than any one of them would have imagined.

It started small, with about 40 bicycles being donated the first year. Last year, the number of bicycles grew when more golfers learned of the charity and wanted to be part of the effort to make Christmas Day more special for a few children. This year, donations collected exceeded $15,000. The money raised enabled the group to purchase 165 bicycles and helmets of differing sizes. The overwhelming response is from a bunch of guys and gals who get together to golf on weekends, and it all started because one person had an idea.

It just takes one person, one idea to make a difference. One small step can make a huge impact. And it doesn’t just have to occur during the season of giving. Any time of year is the perfect time uplift the life of another. How can each of us, Be The One?

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I’M A GIRL. WHAT’S YOUR SUPER POWER?

by B.A. Belthoff

person wearing superheroes printed t shirt
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

Have you made plans to take your best girls and go get smashed? I’m not referring to your BFFs and the local bar, but rather about the two girls you sling in a bra each day when getting dressed.

October is breast cancer awareness month. We will be reminded by billboards on the highways, pink ribbons in storefront windows, ads on the television and even by the pink some pro teams incorporate into their uniforms for the month.

I was given a royal blue cape to don after stripping down up top. All superheroes need capes! Except maybe the Incredibles, when Edna Mode declared to Mr. incredible of his newly designed outfit: No cape!

There were lockers along the wall where you could safely stow your belongings during the test. Each had a nameplate of a strong woman from recent history. Some of my choices included Wonder Woman, Helen Keller, Audrey Hepburn, Queen Latifah, and Maya Angelou.

I was going to choose Wonder Woman, feeling that since I already had the cape, the choice would be appropriate. Someone else had beat me to it, though. Instead, I chose Serena Williams. She’s a mom who is balancing work and family. Our similarities don’t stop there. She’s bold and expressive, fiercely competitive and has a killer backhand. Yup, this is where my stuff belongs, I thought.

After sitting down and making pleasantries with the other women in the waiting room, I couldn’t help but wonder which locker they chose. How did they see themselves when not draped in blue? No one seemed overly anxious, so I made the presumption that we were all there for yearly screenings and not for an emergency.

Every technician I’ve encountered is very genuinely caring and knowledgeable. They appreciate that women can and do feel a little uncomfortable bearing their breasts, even while knowing every girl has them.

About one out of every 8 women will develop breast cancer in their lifetime. Think about the women in your life: friends, family, neighbors, coworkers. I’m betting the statistic checks out. It does for me. The American Cancer Society tries to maintain a sense of positivity by claiming  the one in eight statistic also means your chance of NOT developing the disease is 7 out of 8. It’s good to stay positive.

When I stop and think about the people in my life who have dealt with breast cancer, some successfully beating it, and others sadly succumbing to it, I can’t help but feel like we are all at the deli counter waiting for our number to be called.

“Number 9…”

“Slice them off.”

“Number 10…”

It’s a crude visual because it really isn’t funny, nor is there a way to make it so. It’s just how I feel.

In New Jersey, the place I routinely visited was owned by the same doctors whose OBGYN practice I was a patient. They set up a mammography center and had an on-site radiologist who would read the films immediately. They’d have images retaken, right then and there, to get clearer visuals, if an area was in question. When you left the office, you knew you were ok. There was no waiting for two weeks for my doctor to deliver the results, like I was recently told. When you think there is something wrong, getting immediate answers is comforting, to say the least.

Several years before we moved, I felt something. From the moment I phoned the doctor’s office, it was as if they swiped their schedule clean to make room for me. It took longer to secure a safe place for my daughters after the school day finished, than it was to get an appointment. I was in their office that afternoon. After seeing the doctor, I went directly to the imaging center to have a sonogram and meet with the radiologist. Luckily, I was one of the seven.

There were visits when a nurse would enter the waiting area and apologize for the delay.

“We’ve had an emergency; we’re sorry for the wait, if you need to reschedule, please let us know.”

Those of us in the waiting room were like soldiers, trading our capes for infantry uniforms. No one minded. One of our own had fallen and needed to be cared for. They had provided swift passage for me, now it was time to clear the path for her.

We hoped everything would be okay. I’m sure others, like myself, said a silent prayer for the woman. We would never learn how things turned out for her, but she, no doubt, needed our prayers.

At my recent visit here in Houston, I had a new experience. Becky tried to photo bomb when the technician was “photographing” Betsy.

“We’re still getting the left side in the image,” Jasmine, the mammogram technologist told me.

It took several tries to get an individual image of each girl.

When we successfully photographed each of them, I asked if I could look at the digital pictures. I find it interesting to be able to see inside my body. They looked like boobs.

Getting the girls smashed between two paddles isn’t the most comfortable experience. But it isn’t the most awful, either. Leaving with red marks from my lower neck to my underarms is a small inconvenience to endure in exchange for knowing that the test can save my life.

I walked out a short time later sporting my red marks and ready to take on the challenges of the day – feeling like a superhero. If you’ve been putting off your screening;  get it done. Attack the issue like Serena Williams attacks the tennis ball. The smashing really isn’t that bad. You could celebrate by buying yourself a new cape.

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Y’all be careful out there

 

action asphalt automobile automotive
Photo by Taras Makarenko on Pexels.com

The 1980s provided some innovative tv drama. One of the very popular weekly police series was a show called Hill Street Blues. Each week, we heard Sergeant Phil Esterhaus as he dismissed roll call uttering the words, “Let’s be careful out there.”

As summer nears the end it means more vehicles on the road during rush hour. Commuters driving to work plus parents driving kids to school and plenty of school buses means local streets and highways will be busy. It also means it’s going to take longer to get to your destination.

In my column Transplanted in Texas, I’m sharing my perspective about driving on Texas roads. I’ve lived in a number of states, and so far, I haven’t experienced one that’s cornered the market on safe driving.

We all run late from time to time, but planning to give yourself enough time for the “screw-up” factors, that also occur every so often, may keep you and others safer on the road.

 

 

 

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Self Awareness is the first step

blur-chain-close-up-264871If worrying were an Olympic sport, I’d hold many gold medals. Even back in elementary school I was reprimanded by Mrs. McCabe, my first-grade teacher. I had forgotten my homework and was very upset about it. She called me into the hallway and told me I was a good student and to not be such a worry wart. Oh, how our personality traits reveal themselves so early in life!

Throughout the few years that have followed since that morning, I’ve learned a few tricks to manage my mind.  I try to do things like get plenty of exercise, including yoga and golf to help me to learn to set aside what’s bothering me, for a little while, and turn my focus either inward or on a dimpled white ball.

Click on the link to read my latest Transplanted in Texas column in the Brazoria County Bulletin where I talk about this very subject. Clearly, I’m still a work in progress. If you have a moment, I’d love to hear your comments, too.

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Root for the home team, wherever home may be

By BA Belthoff

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Winning isn’t everything, but it sure is fun.

No matter where you live, you can always find loyal sports fans supporting their teams. That’s how it should be. Moving to Texas meant having to adopt new teams to cheer on.

It’s not really a big deal as we’ve supported our new home team wherever we’ve lived: Philadelphia Phillies, Pittsburgh Pirates, Tampa Bay Devil Rays and so on. It’s kind of the rule.

Baseball’s long history has made it America’s game. I’m reading a fascinating book on the history of baseball which focuses on the 1800s and how a German immigrant named Chris Von der Ahe helped to transform and save the game. Many of the elements of the game we watch today came about because of Von der Ahe and the American Association, which was not quite the same entity as today’s American League. Things like Sunday baseball, grounds rule double and even enjoying a beer while watching the game all came about because of Von der Ahe’s vision. If you are interested, the book is titled The Summer of Beer and Whiskey by Edward Achorn. I recommend it for all baseball fanatics out there.

When the Yankees come to H-town to play the Astros, we always get tickets to the game. My husband loves baseball and is a die-hard Yankee fan. I sometimes explain it by saying he bleeds Yankee blue. You get the picture. When the home team – and the other home team – are playing, we trade in our orange and blue and wear our pinstripes to support the Yankees.

I’m just so grateful we never lived in Massachusetts because there is an exception to the above rule and that’s the Boston Red Sox! Alan will root for ANY team as long as they’re not the dreaded Red Sox, period.

Alan still recounts the first time he went to Yankee stadium with his dad and brothers with the same intensity and energy as his 5-year-old self. We still display the foul ball he caught in 1988 from the game against the Chicago White Sox.

My daughters and I gave him the ultimate birthday present a few years back and sent him to Florida to attend Yankee Fantasy Camp. As the name implies it is just as you may be thinking. Grown men get together to play ball and pretend they’re on a professional baseball team – with all the perks and pampering such as massages and ice baths. It’s a charity event that lasts a week and culminates with ‘the big game’, when the regular guys play a game against retired players. The regular guys get their butts kicked as a reminder that they really aren’t professional players!

The many action photos of him playing with some of the team’s greats and dressed in authentic Yankee gear still hang in our family room. My favorite is the one of our daughters holding a painted sign for the final game that read: We love our Yankee Dad. I’m pretty sure the real Yankee players thought it was pretty cool, too. The team photographer captured a photo of former infielder Pat Kelly standing behind Alan with his hands on his shoulders coaching him on first base. When at bat, I referred to him as a rookie and that was a big hit with one of the Fantasy Coaches, former Yankee second baseman Homer Bush.

The Yankees last came to H-town for a three-game series back in April. We attended the first game, but the Yankees lost that game . . . and the next two. We won’t be putting away our pinstripes just yet, because there’s still a lot of ball to play. While the Yankees are in first place in their division, their record isn’t as good as the Astros who are leading in the western division.* “In all fairness,” Alan says, “they are playing like the best team in the AL.” We still remain faithful fans knowing  miracles happen in baseball.

There isn’t too much that’s different between seeing a game here or in New York. Feeling the energy of the stadium when your team is coming from behind and turning things around in the bottom of the 9thinning is hair raising.

We really enjoy going to Astros games, whether or not the Yankees are playing. Minute Maid Park is a much more intimate place than the new stadium in New York. Astro fans are great, and it’s fun getting to know everyone seated around you. Maybe it’s because we’ll talk to anyone – sharing memories of games past or arguing about the umpire’s call. With a love of baseball as the binder, there is a comradery that forms between strangers enjoying the game from the stands.

Whoever winds up representing the American League in the world series this October, one thing is for certain, it’s going to be a fun season.

The late Paul Blair, one of the coaches at Fantasy Camp the year Alan attended said it best when he would ask, “How do we spell fun? W I N!”

*This was true a few weeks back. Now both teams have 64 wins, butthe Astros have a few more in the loss column than the Yankees.
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Always have a plan, even a plan B.

 

eye of the storm image from outer space
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Moving to another part of the country can pose logistical challenges, such as getting the timing right, so the truck filled with your life arrives at a time just after you do. The opposite would prove to be a nightmare. Moving to a different type of climate poses challenges, too.

When we moved to Texas, I knew I was trading long cold winters for long hot summers. I just didn’t know how hot. I’m learning it isn’t just the heat, it’s the humidity that takes your breath away. The sun feels so hot on your skin, sometimes I feel like a human French fry under the lights at a fast-food restaurant.

While power outages were the biggest inconvenience occurring after heavy snowfalls or major thunder and lightning storms, they didn’t come close to the devastation caused by a category 4 hurricane, called Harvey.

I pray my family and I never, ever, have to live through another storm, period. It’s a tall order living so near the Gulf of Mexico. What is so bizarre about our experience is that we don’t live in a flood zone. The freakish nature of the storm is that it hung over our area for several days. No matter where you live, if it rains hard enough and long enough, things are going to flood.

I shared my story with The Brazoria County Bulletin through my column: Transplanted in Texas.
You can read it here: http://www.mybulletinnewspaper.com/BULLETIN-WEB-060419.pdf

Believe it or not, some folks are still not back in their homes and it has been almost two years since the event. I’m already praying this hurricane season is a non-event for the Houston, Texas, region. The best thing you can do is be prepared and have a plan. Thanks for reading.

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What’s on your bucket list?

SKYDIVE

The phone rang. It wasn’t the normal ring. You know how sometimes you just know it’s different. This was one of those times. My mom radar was up, waaay up.

“Hi mama!”

It was my daughter. She had returned to Vanderbilt University just three days prior, after spending five months studying in Germany. She hadn’t spent much time at home between the two semesters as the European semester goes a bit longer. We only had two weeks together before she was back on an airplane to return to school. It was unusual for her to be calling so soon.

It wasn’t her usual ‘Hi mama.’ Her voice was very different. My mind started racing. In about two seconds of time my mind went from, was she ok? Is she in trouble? Was she afraid? Her voice had a higher pitch than normal. Was that voice one of elation or fear? She’d only left three days ago!? I was fearful something had gone terribly wrong.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, everything is fine.” I took a deep breath and exhaled out heavily. I should have sat down.

“Guess what I just did?”

ehh…hmm. My brain was on overload thinking of too many horrible things that parents sometimes do when they let their minds wander. (You do that, too, right?)

“I just jumped out of an airplane!”  She said those words with such enthusiasm and an incredible amount of energy I think the lights in the room grew brighter. I told you I should have sat down.

I threw out all the typical questions – as if at that point, they were relevant. Were the people she jumped with qualified? Did they have the proper insurance? What kind of plane was it? She went on to explain that she and three other friends had been planning this adventure. They had done their research and were confident in the company they went flying with – they were former military – and had even breezed the idea past her dad to test his reaction.

“Why did you want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane,” I asked?

“Because it’s on my bucket list.”

“It’s on everyone’s bucket list. We just have the good sense to not get around to doing it.”

It is on my list, too. The truth is, I’m just a big chicken. I’m not sure when or if I’ll get around to the big jump, but something has happened recently that is worthy of jumping up and down – on terra firma.

While my daughter and I share a common bucket listing of parachuting out of an airplane, most of us have a list as unique as we are as individuals.

My list contains things like: climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, be listed in the library of congress, write a newspaper column, and on and on.

My children inspire me. They’ve given me the courage and inspiration to move forward with writing children’s books, and along with my husband Alan, the support to keep putting myself out there.

I’m grateful to  @JohnToth, @SharonToth, and @StephanieJohnson of the Brazoria County Bulletin for giving me the opportunity to pen a biweekly column. Now I can put a check next to that last item. I’ll be sharing some of my experiences being new to Texas, and comparing them to living in New Jersey, where I grew up. The column is called Transplanted in Texas.

I’ll be sharing my column here and hope you’ll journey with me. Feel free to leave thoughtful comments, and by all means, share some of the items on your bucket list.

http://www.mybulletinnewspaper.com/BULLETIN-WEB-043019.pdf

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There are no Ifs, Ands, or Buts about it, commas add drama.

The question is – Should they?

It is becoming increasingly annoying to read anything that is posted online these days. So much of what I’m reading contains some sort of punctuation error or incorrect homonym, and even spelling errors. It’s not because the person writing doesn’t know any better, rather I believe, it’s because time isn’t being taken to proofread what was written. Our world is fast-paced; there is no doubt about that. Deadlines need to be met. We want information instantly, and our compulsive want for communication comes at a price.

Have you ever gotten a text message where absolutely no punctuation was used? It’s tricky enough to decipher tone in the written word, and without commas and periods, it’s near impossible to understand.

I love the English language with all of its nuances and many rules and the exceptions to those rules – and of course – the exceptions to the exceptions. It is a beautiful, intricate language that has evolved over the centuries and continues to do so.

Oscar Wilde is credited with once saying, although I can not say with certainty of authenticity, “I spent half the day putting a comma in and half the day taking the comma out.”

I am certain, that sometimes, I feel like that, too.

Verbal English is not the same as written English. When we speak to someone one-on-one, or even over the telephone (Who does that?), we use pauses and inflection – the latter is not present in the written word. Did you ever have a teacher say to you if you pause while saying your sentence out loud, that means there is a comma needed? Emmm, not exactly.

The ‘Drama Comma’

This brings me to my favorite part of speech (read: pet peeve). It’s what I call the ‘drama comma.’ Imagine you are telling your best friend about a great sale the dress shop is having. “…the dress was half price,” you say, “aannndd (you put in a major dramatic pause) they took an additional 10% off at the register!” Most often you will find this written with a comma after the word and – like this:

“…the dress was half price and, they took an additional 10% off at the register!”

And comma. Ugh! This is the most irritating violation of grammar I can think of. How’s that for drama? You’ll find the abuse in every major news source, most blog sites, tweets and even within LinkedIn articles. Don’t even get me started with Facebook posts.

Moving Right Along

For the record, and is a conjunction, as is but, if and or. There are others, but those are the most commonly used with misused punctuation. Those of us of a certain age will recall the SchoolHouse rock series that aired Saturday mornings. They devoted an entire segment to dealing with conjunctions. Why? Because they are an important part of grammar. I’m betting that some of you are now humming the song, Conjunction Junction. For those who are not aware, here is a link. (Spoiler alert: you’ll be singing the song all day; I apologize in advance.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODGA7ssL-6g

What’s the function of a conjunction? As the song says, “…for hooking up words and phrases and clauses…” They join the words, and phrases and clauses to keep the train – the metaphor for a sentence – moving. In other words, no pausing here, so no commas are needed. Let me say that with a little more drama. For all that is good and holy, please do not place a comma after a conjunction! Thank you, I feel better already.

The Proof is in the Proofreading

I’m not flawless, by any means, and that’s why I ask others to proof my work. The technique may not eliminate all my errors, but I’m betting it’s more than enough to allow the reader a chance to digest what I’m trying to say. Taking a few extra minutes to look over your work, as I’m sure at least one teacher has suggested should be done, will yield far better results. Your readers will come away with a greater understanding of your words, and your work will have greater credibility. No drama there.

I’m interested to read your comments, drama-filled or not.