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Writing with Purpose

1/27/2024 10:51:43 AM

Flickers Caring for Their Young

 Access to food and clean water is necessary for the survival of all living species. We need to be diligent about preserving nature’s gifts to humanity.

A Writer’s Passion

While president of OMSI, I collaborated with Dr. Marion Diamond, my counterpart at the Lawrence Hall of Science in Berkeley. Before assuming its directorship, she was one of the founders of modern neuroscience and the first to demonstrate that the brain improves with experience and enrichment. Though known for her studies of Einstein's brain, her rat studies showed that an enriched environment (toys and companions) beneficially changed the brain's anatomy. In contrast, an impoverished environment lowered the capacity to learn. By showing the plasticity of the brain, she shattered past beliefs of the brain as static and unchangeable, degenerating as we age.

  Dr. Diamond advised me to stay active after retirement by changing my daily activities, interests, exercise routine, and readings. Doing so, she said, would develop new synapses to keep me vibrant and engaged throughout my senior years. To grow and continue learning throughout my life would keep me relevant and give life purpose.

  So…when I retired at seventy-three, I followed her advice. Instead of remaining a consultant to the corporate world, I divested myself of boards, committees, and fundraising activities, choosing to spend my time with individual endeavors instead. Community activities took on a counseling aspect with singular individuals rather than leading groups. I spent hours engrossed in my art. But of all the undertakings, writing is the one I focused on most. I had always been an idea person, but when I put my thoughts on paper, I relied on others to make my thoughts well composed. My retirement goal was to learn how to write. I joined a writers’ group, so what I put down is critiqued before distribution.  The best way to become a writer is to write every day without fail. Sending out a weekly blog keeps me on course, but most of my effort goes towards my books.

  Lives of Museum Junkies and Over The Peanut Fences were non-fiction, partly biographical endeavors. The first explored my early involvement with science museums and hands-on learning, how I learned to manage large institutions, and the people who helped the profession grow. The second accounts for the days spent mothering a previously unsheltered youth and getting to know the staff and volunteers of organizations that help young adults heal.

  As I watched the environment suffer due to global warming and pollution, I decided it was time to write a novel, a thriller to capture the public’s imagination and to encourage governments to improve their care of life-affirming resources.''

  Capturing attention with the written word requires dedication, a nuanced knowledge of the English language, and an understanding of people's emotions. My first attempt at an environmental novel was focused on petcoke, a little-known petroleum by-product that resembles coal. When I wrote the last chapter, I realized it could have been better, but I needed to figure out what was wrong. I found a teacher who had me flush out character descriptions in the middle of the night when my mind wasn't sharp. I was advised not to begin my story before I understood how each looked, walked, talked, was raised, and felt. I had to live in the head of each individual and worry about their families and friends.

  After three years of research and writing, I completed The Water Factor, a thriller about the corporate takeover of water. It should be in bookstores and online by late spring. Though set in the future, everything I write about has already occurred.  Access to clean drinking water is in peril and will affect everyone's life in the future. I was shocked to learn that the World Water Forum of 1998 and 2000 led to water being declared a commodity and not a right. This opened the way for it to be traded on Wall Street and privatized by corporations that charge 2000 times more by bottling it than letting it flow through a tap. Backing from the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund followed, giving a handful of international corporations license to take over the management of public water services aggressively, leading to higher water and sanitation rates.

  The United Nations recognizes access to water and sanitation as a human right fundamental to everyone's health, dignity, and prosperity. Unfortunately, well over billions of people today live without water being safely managed. The plot moves from rural Oregon to Ethiopia to a Native American reservation, showing what can happen when corporate interests take over access to clean water.

  My purpose in writing The Water Factor is to bring this issue to the forefront so communities can do something about it. The first of the  Rightfully Mine series, the novel shows the depths of manipulation and deceit people will engage in for money. It's a page-turner to stimulate your brain, though I hope it will do more. The book is a call to action for citizens to monitor how their water and sewage systems are managed. Northwest Natural, an investor-owned gas company in Oregon, has begun purchasing small water companies in Oregon, Idaho, and Washington. The company is positioning itself to buy municipal water systems as it expands. It is time to ask if we want our water to be privatized.

  Communities need to take heed of water issues. Lives depend on it. Who is selling, and who is purchasing local water rights? How will this affect your family in the future? I hope you get actively involved. Your effort is bound to stimulate new brain synapses and be a meaningful endeavor. 

Resources:
United Nations website. Human Rights to Water and Sanitation. Retrieved from https://www.unwater.org/water-facts/human-rights-water-and-sanitation#:
Burtka, A. & Montgomery, W. (2018) A water right—Is water a human right or a commodity? ERB Institute University of Michigan. Retrieved from https://erb.umich.edu/2018/05/30/a-right-to-water-is-water-a-human-right-or-a-commodity
Green, E. (2018)NW Natural is buying water utilities. Should Oregonians be concerned about privatized water? Street Roots. Retrieved from https://www.streetroots.org/news/2018/08/10/nw-natural-buying-water-utilities.

Art is always for sale. Flickers Caring for Young is a 22” x 25” framed acrylic on canvas painting. It is available for $425 and shipped free in the continental U.S.A. For information or to answer questions, contact [email protected]. 

I look forward to reading your comments below.

Surviving Frozen

1/20/2024 9:27:30 PM

Winter Wonder - Acrylic painting by Eichinger

Time Outside the Box

1/13/2024 2:07:19 PM

I THOUGHT I KNEW YOU

Time Outside the Box

Do you remember the first time you left home? Overnight, you were without parents telling you what to do. The day I was accepted to college, I dreamt about how wonderful it would be on my own without looking after a younger sibling. I'd be free to stay up late and party through the night. As a sheltered child, my parents didn't want me far from home, so my higher education began at Ursinus College, an Evangelical and Reform-sponsored college 100 miles west of Philadelphia. 

  The surprise of my first week away was finding that instead of freedom, I was trapped on campus with strict oversight rules regulating my every move. Among other things, it was mandatory to attend chapel three days a week, with attendance taken to make sure we were there. The transition from Philadelphia suburbia was difficult for a Jewish eighteen-year-old used to the richness of the city. I loved visiting museums, going to theatrical performances, and attending symphonic and folk concerts. As a child, I was taken to Saturday morning children's concerts; as a teen, I graduated to youth concerts and went with my friends to Symphony Hall. I was enrolled in art classes at The Philadelphia Art Museum, where their collection of masterpieces inspired me, and I studied ballet with plans to go professional.

  My parents weren't concerned when I went from our suburban house to Rittenhouse Square for piano lessons. THough going by bus and subway took an hour, it was considered a safe means of transportation. Philadelphia was my playground, grounding me in American history and providing more freedom than I realized I had.

  Years later, I was asked why I chose to attend a rural college and if I would do it again. I went to Ursinus because Dad had taken his medical residency nearby. It was known for having strong liberal arts and pre-med programs. I was thrilled to be accepted and couldn't wait to meet my roommate, a young woman who turned my world upside down. She was an enigma, leading me to question my take on reality. She opened my eyes to a part of society coming from another world. There was one other Jewish woman in my freshman class and both of us were matched with Catholic roommates so we wouldn't pollute the minds of our evangelical classmates.

  My roommate grew up in a small New Jersey town where she learned to ride horses at an early age. She attended demolition derbies in her teens, went to wild beach parties, and galloped across the country club's grounds with friends dressed as Ku Klux Klan members. I was shocked by the cavalier way she described her exploits and disdain for Black Americans. In our dorm, she partied in a friend's room until the wee hours of the morning, and slept afternoons in ours. I tiptoed around the room during the day and study with the shade down in the dark .

  The men were also different than the boys I knew at home. Except for the pre-med students who were serious about their studies, they were into cars and physical exploits. Their childhoods didn't include visits to cultural institutions. They liked Elvis, while my friends and I were enthralled with the Beatles and Pete Seeger. Most male undergrads came from families where practical work was valued over academic achievement. During hunting season, male undergrads attended classes with their hunting licenses pinned to the back of their shirts. They'd run off for their rifles ias soon as they can. I'm not sure where they were kept. Hazing rituals at fraternities used to make my hair stand on end. I still hear screams from initiates drifting through my open window at night.

  Though the college held a stimulating lecture series, few students attended. I sat among the staff with a handful of co-eds, wondering about the curiosity of my fellow students. School dances and movies were well attended.

  Freshman women were subject to a hazing ritual supported by the administration. We had to wear one yellow and one red sock for our first six weeks. We had name placards slung over our shoulders, like a sandwich sign, and freshman beanies. As newbies, we memorized long, fanciful names sophomore leaders took on, and addressed them like royalty whenever they passed by. The consequence of forgetting a name was having to sing the school's anthem at pep rallies. We first-year students met at noon, three times a week to be tested on our knowledge of the school's football chants and songs. We were told later that the goal of hazing was to get the freshman class to bond and rise against the sophomores. Our class overwhelmingly failed, and the following year, hazing was abandoned.

  I was shy and fearful and didn't understand all of the rules in the women's dorm where our comings and goings were monitored. We had to sign out we left the dorm after seven p.m. and return before ten p.m. weekdays, midnight on weekends. It took until the last quarter to break through my fear of doing something wrong. As a former ballet student, I secured a lead part in a spring homecoming extravaganza. After performing in the stadium before thousands of students, parents, and alums, I was recognized as someone other than a wallflower and suddenly had friends. College became life bearable.

  The following year, I transferred to Boston University and loved walking through the halls without being recognized. I remember the joy of sharing lunch with friends who talked about what they were studying. Boston University is in the heart of a city with over sixty universities and colleges. I thrived in the intellectual atmosphere. But when I reflect on my days at Ursinus, I realize that being able to enjoy and accept people with different customs and values may have been the more valuable experience. After opening myself to the joys and hardships of my fellow students, I acknowledged that no family is devoid of some level of dysfunction, but most people figure out ways to survive. My classmates were down to earth, grounded in rality, and as concerned about their future as I was mine. In 1958, only 7.7 percent of American women attended college. Today, that number is at 60 percent. Back then, there was a strong emphasis on exiting college with a husband.

Leaving home, whether to further education, travel, take a new job, or join the military, is life expanding. You must get out of your comfort zone to discover who you are and evaluate your strengths, likes, and dislikes. It is a lifetime pursuit that is as import for senior citizens as high school graduates. Humans are continuously evolving creatures that metamorphose as they go through life's passages. 

  Congress would do a better job running the country if legislators opened themselves to the commonalities of the human condition. Unfortunately, too many of them hide inside boxes while shooting barbs at people they don't understand or know. Cultures differ as does the food we eat.  But as human beings, we all lose baby teeth, learn to control our bladders, and get grey hair as we age. We care about our children and friends and put ourselves out to see they are happy and well-fed.  We teach children to ride bikes, catch balls, cook, clean, brush their teeth, enjoy sporting and cultural events, and use computers.

  We all want to live in a communitie free from illness, poverty, road rage, potholes, and crime. We enjoy decorating our homes for the holidays and like spending time with friends and family. Focusing on  shared interests and traits is the starting place for understanding. Politicians need get out of their boxes and embrace humanity instead of trashing those they don't agree with.

I look forward to your comments on my blog site at www.eichingerfineart.com

Art is always for sale. I Thought I Knew You is a 36" by 18" Mixed Media painting on Canvas/ available for $795 / free shipping in the continental U.S.

Eichinger books are available in paperback and ebook formats in bookstores and online. To purchase on Amazon go to https://www.amazon.com/s?k=books+by+Marilynne+Eichinger

SPECIAL THIS WEEK/ Free Kindle download of Lives of Museum Junkies second edition.

Ther Roar of an Engine, the Blast of a Firearm!

1/6/2024 1:44:41 PM

Hope Exploding 

Zero dB - Though silent, it can be powerful.

 The Roar of An Engine, The Blast of A Firearm

           There's a running debate about noise among my neighbors. It is a touchy subject because what is too loud for one person doesn't bother the next. I am susceptible to gardeners who use mega-charged gasoline-powered leaf blowers. I find it aggravating when people return home from work and turn power tools on as I get ready to dine on my porch. Yet, that isn't as bad as a neighbor's metal bat hitting balls in his batting cage. The pings echo through the woods, reminding me of dripping water in a torture chamber. Thankfully, after speaking to my neighbors, they are more respectful of the hours the son uses the cage. Our friendship was maintained. 

With home builders and remodelers no longer abiding by a forty-hour work week, the sounds from saws and hammers can reverberate through the neighborhood twelve hours a day during the summer. There was a time when construction started at eight and ended at five, and never on weekends, especially not Sundays. Now, they work until dusk, seven days a week, without regard to neighboring homeowners who crave quiet when they return from their jobs. 

  Living in the woods, as I do, is beautiful and mostly peaceful, but there are disadvantages. Sound travels up the canyon bordering my house. I don't mind when I'm awakened by owls or coyotes hooting and howling at one another. I lie in bed, wondering what they are saying to one another. It's the late-night drunken partying that keeps me awake.

  I'm also not bothered by the artists making sculptures in their garages. As a group, they appear to be mindful of the needs of their neighbors, never starting before nine and always ending before five. People who find midday noises offensive are often night owls themselves, awake at night, asleep during the day. Their anger at hearing power tools during waking hours, reminds me that it isn't easy to satisfy everyone's needs. 

  Leaf blowing and baseball practice don't usually last long enough to damage hearing, but they can upset a person's equilibrium and make them anxious. Constant exposure to loud sounds is stressful and creates long-term consequences for overall health. At night, it can disrupt sleep patterns, and during the day, it disturbs conversations.

  Loud noises cause a condition known as hyperacusis, an increased sensitivity to environmental sounds. People with hyperacusis find everyday sounds uncomfortably loud. The condition is a result of long-term or extreme exposure to loud noises and is associated with tinnitus, buzzing, ringing, or whistling noises that distort sound. Hyperacusis can be triggered by an explosion, a slap on the ear, exposure to a chronically noisy environment, changes in aging, a head injury, ear surgery, or taking certain medications. Whatever the cause, loud sounds for even a short time, become intolerable. Those who suffer from it are disabled and need our understanding and willingness to alter the loud noises we make.

How loud is too loud?  Audiologists are now treating a generation of young adults with severe tinnitus, vertigo, and hearing loss due to having listened to loud music as children. The safe listening level for music depends on the volume and duration of exposure. According to a Centers for Disease Control study, wearing headphones for more than two hours daily can damage hearing and warn youth about attending high-volume music festivals. People are less tuned into each other and the world around them when music is so loud they can't hear one another speak. They are non-communicative at concerts and become isolated when tuned into music using earplugs. Getting the individual's attention in a crisis may take some time. The Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) says that exposure to noise at or above 85 decibels for more than 8 hours can cause hearing loss and advises wearing protection for prolonged exposure of 85dB or higher. Note the following:

  The Environmental Protection Agency recommends limiting noise in housing areas to 55 dB during waking hours. They advise wearing protection for prolonged exposure of 85dB or higher. Note the following:

• Whisper — 30 dB
• Moderate rainfall -—50 dB
• Typical conversation – 60 dB
• Loud Truck — 80 dB
• Heavy city traffic – 85 dB
• Lawnmower – 90 dB
• Helicopter — 110 dB
• Audio headset player at maximum volume – 105 dB
• Emergency vehicle Sirens – 120 dB
• Nightclub with loud music — 110 dB
• Concerts, Police Siren – 120 dB
• Sporting events – 105 to 130 dB (Stadium dependent)
• Jet Engine taking off —130 dB
• Fireworks – 140 to 160 dB
• Firearms – 150 dB and higher — painful

Musicians, as well as their audience, are prone to hearing loss. Electronic musicians need to pay special attention to sound amplification. When tuned into listening on your cell phone, it’s best to wear noise-canceling headphones instead of buds.  This may be a problem for image-conscious teens who find headphones more costly, large, and cumbersome.  But with more than 13 percent of children having noise-induced hearing loss, it is worth having them adhere to the recommendation. 

  Noise pollution is a factor in many people's lives, yet talking to neighbors about annoying sounds from late-night parties or lawnmowers waking you up in the morning isn't easy. It behooves us to remember we are all TABs (temporarily able-bodied), as a disabled person once warned me. One impairment or another will get to us as we age. When a neighbor's house was sold, the new owners complained about the hot tube on my back porch. The motor circulating water caused our wooden deck to vibrate like a guitar at all hours, amplifying the sound. It wasn't enjoyable to be asked to turn the tub off. I used to love using it on a star-lit night. For the sake of harmony, I had it removed; maintaining friendship was much more critical.

  Conversations over noise have to be conducted with tact. I've witnessed terrible clashes over noise abatement that ended with neighbors avoiding each other for years. The first thing to look into is your city's noise ordinances and to make sure they're enforced. The second is to bring neighbors together to discuss the problem of noise reduction. You will be surprised by how many participate since the issue bothers many people. By sharing experiences and developing guidelines, it is possible to create a harmonious environment that fosters friendships.

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Please share your thoughts and experiences below.

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References:

  Better Health Channel website.  Hearing problems- hyperacusis. retrieved at https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/hearing-problems-reduced-tolerance-to-sound

  NIH. National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders website (2020)  Do you know how loud is too loud?  retrieved from      https://www.nidcd.nih.gov/news/2020/do-you-know-how-loud-too-loud#:~:text=Sound%20is%20measured%20in%20units,dBA%20can%20cause%20hearing%20loss

  Johns Hopkins Medicine website. Noise Induced Hearing Loss. retrieved from https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/hearing-loss/noise-induced-hearing-loss-in-children#:~:text=induced%20hearing%20loss-,Your%20child's%20inner%20ears%20may%20be%20damaged%20if%20he%20or,an%20audiologist%20or%20an%20ENT

  Salem Audiology Clinic website (2021) Decibels and Hearing Loss. retrieved from https://salemaudiologyclinic.com/decibels-and-hearing-loss/