Stilettos, High Heels, Crocs

/in /by

Despite being a part of the Stiletto Gang, I wince whenever I see an actual Stiletto. No, I’ve never had a pair.

Years ago, though, I did wear high heels everyday to work. Looking back I wonder how I did it. I had my first real job working as a file clerk for Pacific Bell in downtown L.A. To get there, I rode the bus, then the streetcar to 8th street, then I walked four blocks up hill to the office building.

Like everyone else back in that time period, besides the heels, of course I wore nylons (no pantyhose yet), and dresses.

At the job, we often sat on little stools to get into the bottom drawers to do our filing, what a trick with skirts. Nylons didn’t last long either.

I even had high heels for leisure, cute sandals.

As I got older and had more kids, the high heels were saved for dress-up occasions and work. On and off I worked as a telephone operator, mostly in Oxnard while hubby was stationed there. Even though no customers ever saw us, we were required to wear nylons and dresses to work. And yes, I wore my high heels then, even when I was pregnant. Three times I worked at the phone company, got pregnant, worked until they wouldn’t let me any longer, and left.

But, I digress. Back to the heels. I didn’t feel dressed up unless I had on heels.

When we moved to where we live now and took over the residential care facility, I didn’t wear heels while I was working with the ladies we cared for, but I wore them when we went to town, or I had to go to a meeting.

I did this for several years until I finally realized, I could still look fine with a nice pair of flat dress shoes. Now that’s all I have–and they better be comfortable.

Really, since I’m now a great-grandmother there’s not anyone I need to impress. You’ll not find a single pair of high heels in my closet today.

Okay, big confessions of the day, do I still get to play with all you Stiletto Gang cuties?

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

New York, New York

/in /by

New York City is a magical place filled with wonderful museums, a vibrant theater community, and, as the old television show reminded us, “eight million stories in the Naked City.” It’s a tourist delight, a writer’s treasure trove – and a terrorist target.

I live outside the city, in a quiet suburb about 20 miles from Times Square. I vividly remember September 11, 2001 – and the consuming fear of not knowing for sure where my husband, loved ones, and friends were during those chaotic hours. This time was different. I didn’t hear about this latest threat until Sunday morning, many hours after the event, but the emotions slipped right back into place.

A quick recap: On Saturday night, someone tried to detonate a car bomb in Times Square. If the twin towers of the World Trade Center were seen as symbols for America’s wealth, surely Times Square represents the heart of the people of this great city. Walk through the crowded streets that surround this iconic corner of New York, and you see rich and poor, every color of mankind, young, old, tourists and citizens, all intent on soaking in the energy of the city. It is the center of the theater district and on Saturday night, the shows went dark, as audiences were evacuated. The Lion King, the long-running musical made from the Disney cartoon, was the first to cancel the performance. Tickets for this show, a delight for families and especially young children, are still, after all these years in production, in such demand that there is months-long wait before you can purchase an evening of enchanting theater.

Saturday night, Mayor Bloomberg flew back from the annual Correspondents dinner in Washington, DC, where the jokes and the liquor flowed freely, to deal with this latest danger. He said pointedly, “Terrorists around the world feel threatened by the freedoms we have in this country and want to take our freedoms away from us. (That’s why) they always focus on the symbol of that freedom, and that is New York City.”

It’s trite, but true, that we can’t let them win. When the lights go out on Broadway, it shutters the freedom of expression that is the hallmark of a free society. It closes the feel-good-musicals that have us humming when we leave the theater – as well as the intense, drama-filled plays that make us think about issues long after the last curtain call.

My suspicion is that this will not be a foreign terrorist plot. I suspect it’s another homegrown thug, like Timothy McVeigh, with an agenda that has no respect for human life. It’s less than two weeks after the anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. Homegrown terrorism is, in some ways, harder to stomach than foreign invasions. These are men and women who are permitted to espouse ideas that are an anathema to the very being of our country. But our land thrives because we permit them to speak these hateful thoughts – but they are not permitted to act on them. Your right to speak loathsome concepts ends when you act upon them (or push others to act in your stead).

New York City police understand the constant daily threat that faces this phenomenal city. But in every town, village, and hamlet of our great nation, it’s up to each one of us to help our local law enforcement keep us safe. If you see something, say something. Had a t-shirt vendor in New York City not spoken up on Saturday night, the tragedy that might have ensued is too hard to even contemplate.

The photo at the top of this blog appeared in Life Magazine. It caught a couple in Times Square, celebrating with a kiss the end of World War II. If only this current war on terrorism could have such a definitive ending.

God Bless America.

Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David

Murder Off the Books by Evelyn David
Murder Takes the Cake by Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com