My first car was a fifty-six T-bird. With my Dad’s business
partner of the era, George Barris, the absolute most famous custom car designerin the world to my knowledge, contributing to its sparkle and flash, my father
even had it a bit customized for me.
How great the power of that little car felt to my adolescent-getting-to–know-the-world
-around-me self! I can still feel its burst as we peeled away from a stop light,
propelling me way out ahead of all those other cars, instantly left behind,
thanks to the command of my fuel injection accessories.
What a great entrance to emerging adulthood that was for me!
How much better than that could the owner of Hollywood’s Custom Corner on Vine Street (circa 1952) have demonstrated his proud-as-a-peacock
manhood than to gift his young daughter with a car of this ilk?
I have a whole slew of T-bird stories in my treasure box of
memories of life with my Dad and Mom and our life in Southern California. And,
today they feel ripe and ready to begin pouring forth. It must be the sunshine
of this spring day bringing them into my consciousness.
If I am to complete the mission I have set for myself with
this blog site—taking off the thousand masks I wear to be authentically me in
present time -- I will, over time, want
you to see how this T-bird story group morphs into my “Hot Pants, Motorcycles
and K Street” life and stories. But for
today suffice it for me to say that over the years I have come to recognize the
power of women as essential change vehicles, in or out of the cars we drive.
To make my point, I can now unequivocally state that I am
definitely going to vote for Hillary!
In spite of the many things in her manner that I haven’t
liked, Hillary is the one for me!
In fact, I’m even going to go a step farther and see what I
can do to aid her campaign to help get her elected.
Yes! I am voting for Hillary without a doubt.
You know why?
It’s because I really like the way she threw her hat in the
ring. I think she is setting her pace to genuinely play the real deal “game.”
Having said that I will soon want to discuss the GAME with you to which I am referring;
the New Horizons Truth or Dare Game.
I wish we could all be in it together, forever and ever, even in everyday life
as a style of being.
New Horizons Truth or
Dare Game surpasses everything else I have ever known as the highest impact
process for collectively learning how to live a life of “power with” rather
than power over. New Horizons “new”
Climbing The Mountain of Awe Game is an updated version of our original GAME,
circa 1976. Still I am unlikely to ever have that original Truth or Dare Game
experience again. Those days are over, leaving only nostalgia behind.
More on this as time allows.
I have been working myself to the grindstone this past month, preparing
for not one, but two Coffee House Conversations, back to back.
It was a hellish experience that only a workaholic, power
addicted, determined to break the glass ceiling at all costs woman would like.
I did not like!
That’s not me, anymore. It took every strength I had in me
to break the habit, my workaholic habit, Dark Side mode as it was.
Now the sun is beginning to shine again outside my window
with the birds chirping their merry song and the flowering trees in bloom. I
need a walk and fresh mountain air right now more than I need most other
things. So off I go to drink all that in now as I chug my way up the mountain
road that is my best, regular aerobic workout, long neglected because it was
just too darn cold for me these past few months.
But I will be back here writing soon again with lots more to
say. The hellish demands ended late day yesterday and I have a storehouse of updated reflections on life and stuff to share.
See ya soon again now that I am making my way back to my
Beloved daily writing pattern.
My womanly way of power allows me that; time for the inner
me; meditating, reflecting, contemplating, time for balance and gentleness, not
all about the man’s way of power that steely, fast and furious little T-bird
introduced me to.
I am most grateful for the balance.
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