In case you haven’t noticed, office work is getting a makeover — and I’m not referring to technology. Not only are we retrained in new software several times a year, but we’re also being encouraged to be less sedentary while we fry our brains.
Over the years we forget to cultivate awe. Little by little, without realizing it, we begin to ignore the miracles around us and shake off the spell of a world that is always changing, evolving, moving. We grow blind to mystery. We become adults.
The older I get, the more I worry about the future; not necessarily mine, but my children’s and grandchildren’s. So I made an effort this past week to focus on good tidings, on uplifting news, and I found plenty of examples to renew my belief in the kindness of strangers.
Ana Veciana-Suarez: I’m so grossed out that I’m afraid to touch anything around the house, afraid that some science fiction nightmare might unfold right there in my kitchen or bathroom: an epidemic of flesh-eating, brain-dissolving, limb-paralyzing organisms.
When talking about possibly moving somewhere, the talk turns to cooler climates and where housing prices are more affordable. But after having spent a lifetime near the beach in South Florida, it’s difficult to imagine a life where the beach is not near.
Prenuptial agreements with a social media clause are on the rise. Yep, you read right. Before the exchange of rings, before the public declaration of love, before the sappy Best Man’s toast, couples are ensuring their privacy in print.
Once again, as predictable as the tides, I’m smack in the congested middle of the end-of-school-year marathon. Where a few years ago, I scrambled to cafeterias, classrooms and auditoriums for my children, now I’m rushing around for the grandkids.
Ana Veciana-Suarez: "I’m no foodie, and my plebeian palate can hardly be considered discerning, but I have noticed that bowls are no longer reserved for soup and cereal. They’re also for noodles, for meat, for fish, for fried chicken — for anything, really."
What we pay those who are entrusted with our most precious resource is an embarrassment — and a moral crime. Yet teachers have been underpaid and underappreciated for generations, very likely because classrooms have long been considered a women’s place and the formation and guiding of children women’s work.
I may have found my calling late in life; the job that uses my storytelling talent for a new audience. After a few minutes of superficial consideration, I’ve decided I want to be an entertainer at children’s birthday parties. Specifically, my grandchildren’s parties.
I may be making more of this than I should. It’s probably nothing, but there it remains, a trivial thought, a burrowing disquiet that gnaws at me in unlikely moments. I suspect the concern is as common as a runny nose in kindergarten. I worry about getting old. There, I said it. And in a public forum.
Is it possible to suffer from partisan whiplash? Does political trauma classify as a medical condition? Can oppositional behavior disorder include uncooperative acts and negative words aimed at elected opponents?
Since the dawn of time there have been zealous parents; men and women who have scrimped and sacrificed, battled and cajoled, walked five miles and sat for hours — all in hopes of helping a beloved child. In the past few years, however, that zealousness has curdled into outright obnoxiousness.
Drone video shot by Captain Dan Kipnis and published to YouTube shows the construction of a seawall on Indian Creek Drive which Miami Beach will likely have to rip out and replace due to lack of proper permits, video is from Dec. 2017.