The film Calendar Girls starring Helen Mirren is one of those movies that I've watched and laughed over a few times, mostly with my grandmother. It's rare that I find someone my age who has seen the film, although it is only about ten years old. The plot is based on a true story, one that is peppered with equal parts heartache and humor - a combination that leaves you feeling emotionally raw. When a friend's husband passes at a young age from leukemia, a woman sets out to raise money in order to purchase a new couch for the hospital waiting room by...becoming a calendar girl. This seriously happened, guys. A group of women created a nude calendar to raise money for leukemia research. And it poses the question: Would you? I wouldn't. Couldn't. But these ladies did and it worked.
The word leukemia makes my blood run a little cold. Having lost someone very close to me to the disease, I applaud the efforts of these women. But like I said, I don't think I could do it. Donating money is so much easier. Requires very little effort. And I'm ashamed to admit that the realm of my charitable donations fall into a hollow money giving category. I'm aware that money goes a long way and any form of donation is great, but I also know that becoming actively involved leaves an impact far more lasting. I'm not here to encourage stripping down to raise money. I am, however, in favor of finding that cause that matters to you, the one that keeps you awake at night, and then doing something about it. Actively participating will leave you with a memory, a warm and fuzzy, and the lasting knowledge that you were a part of something far bigger than yourself. Not only will it matter to someone else but it will matter to you.
Also, watch the movie. It's great. And tastefully done. It's only rated PG-13. I'd insert the trailer but I don't want to make anyone (Brandon) blush.
My job gives me the opportunity to travel frequently, exciting at times, but always tough to leave my family for weeks at a time. For the past few weeks I have been in Japan, my first time visiting the land of the rising sun. It has been a great experience. It's humid, foggy at times, even though I'm staying right at the base of Mt. Fuji for two weeks the fog has only cleared enough for the ominous silhouette to appear twice and only for a few hours at a time. A stark contrast to the mojave desert that I begrudingly call home. Tokyo seems like a city that never ends, tightly packed with buildings, woven together with highways and canals, narrow streets lit up with neon lights like the Las Vegas strip and dark alleys that never see sunlight. But beyond all that one thing has impressed me most - from the time I left the Narita airport just outside Tokyo I have been impressed by the amount of time a person tells me "thank you" and bows; buying a bus ticket, boarding the bus, giving them my bags to put on the bus, getting off the bus, getting my bags from under the bus, getting in a taxi, when the taxi reached my destination, paying the taxi driver, getting my bags out of the trunk to name a few. What is it about the Japanese that causes them to offer so much sincere gratitude for common acts. I sometimes pride myself on my ability to articulate sarcasm, but here even after the 5th thank you for buying some bananas I never felt a hint of it from the store clerk. Even the Japanese phrase for thank you sounds more sincere to me than my own, maybe its just because its new, foreign, exoteric but I don't think so. Such a trait could only exist as a remnant passed down from respected ancestors, as it is so engrained in this society. It feels good to give thanks, I felt good being thanked so many times. Try it out, see how you can build others up by offering sincere gratitude. Next time you see me don't be surprised if you get a bow - arigatōgozaimasu.
In the town of Beaver, Utah, there is a little sandwich shoppe. Good food, cute decor, and that small town, home grown quality that makes customers feel at ease and welcome. Beaver is about 45 minutes away from my home town so I was able to stop in and enjoy a fresh cut sandwich from Patti’s Place.
A handful of items filled the menu, a few tiny tables filled the room, and witnessing a good deed nearly had tears filling my eyes. I’m not an emotional person. I keep things pretty well tapped down. But for some reason, the atmosphere in Patti’s Place is special.
A local gentleman stopped in for a bite. I don’t know his name. I don’t know his story. But for this, it doesn’t really matter. He ordered and reached in his pocket to pay. They brushed his attempt aside and gave him his meal “on the house”. From my seat near the back of the room, I watched this interaction with a lump in my throat.
I’m not sure if this happens often or the reasons behind such an act, but I do know that whoever Patti is, well, she deserves a pat on the back.