Wednesday, March 05, 2014
_pr_product_top If you don't have a Kindle, you can download free from Amazon the "Free Kindle Reader for PC".
It's called Impress The World With Your Body in SEVEN DAYS.
No, it doesn't take just 7 days to have the perfect body. I had been listening to podcasts by Dr Dave Madow for a few weeks. What do I like about this book? It's a 7 Day plan to follow for better health, fitness and diet changes. I know I can do anything for 7 days. At the end of the 7 days, I just start over.
IT IS WORKING FOR ME. I'm just finished my 3rd week. I am feeling better! Less pain. A noticeable feeling of wellbeing. I did have a setback for a week due to the flu. But I'm back to my plan. I like the podcasts, because like is said at the beginning, You Don't Have to Feel Like You're Alone. I like that feeling of not being alone.
Dr Dave is also on Facebook,
If you wish, you can Friend him on FB, he answers ALL posts, or questions and emails regarding anything health or fitness or lifestyle changes. No matter what the issue is, he will brainstorm with you for a solution. He does not give actual medical advice.
The podcasts are called "Slice Your Age in Half"
His website has all the podcasts, Episode #20, he read my email I had written to him a week or so earlier, out loud to his listeners. I was shocked at first, but that was okay. I thoroughly enjoy listening to his podcasts. Here are his websites:
I also listen to his podcasts on my smartphone on the free app called Player.FM, which can be found on Google Play Store, and I'm sure it's on iOS Apple too since Dr Dave has iPhone.
Sunday, February 09, 2014
"Sweat is proof you are loving your body. Embrace the drops! "
This spoke to me. In the past, I've hated sweating. Now, not so much.
Saturday, February 01, 2014
This is a LONG blog. Actually is is an article I wrote this morning titled
"The Mean Years and Deb Marr"
and is to be published tomorrow in the Los Angeles Times Newspaper and the Daily Breeze Newspaper in Torrance, California. The numbers in brackets are clickable links used in eBooks as this story will be part of an eBook I will eventually publish myself. So ignore them, the reference website addresses are listed at the end of the article. Although, I had no intentions of writing about Deb's death, I had planned on writing about our friendship.
Feel free to skim through it. It is all about my friendship with Deb Marr during the times that I have come to call THE MEAN YEARS. 1988-1993
HOWEVER!! The strangest thing....
About people who listen, and my blog about Listening. I posted it yesterday, and afterwords I was laying in bed thinking about my life, and thinking about the people that truly listened. There were few that I had known who did listen. I went to sleep last night thinking fondly of Deb Marr. That woman really and completely knew how to listen, especially well and more so than anyone I've ever known in my 62 years! I then went on to sleep and it was a peaceful sleep and when I woke up I felt particularly rested and well. Then at 9am right as I woke up my son texted me and told me that Deb Marr had died yesterday evening from her 3rd go round with bladder cancer that had spread to her brain. I have been terribly sad since. Today, I really related to that poem about listening. It's what my friend Deb Marr did so well during The Mean Years. Today was a day for tears. I've had them all day long. Here is a link to her webiste where you may see many many of her paintngs within her Gallery.
The Mean Years and Deb Marr
By Phyllis Anne
Deborah. Pronounced Dee-bore-ah.
She hated that name and insisted people call her by the name Deb. Deb was my next-door neighbor for 11 years. Deb was a very annoyingly kind, strong, brave, chatty woman. I say she was annoying, because during what I have come to call The Mean Years, she came to my door every morning around 9am. Deb would continue to knock on my door until I finally got out of bed and answered the door. Often she would knock on my door for up to a half hour, while sitting on my porch chair and waiting for me to answer the door. I was rude to Deb when I finally opened my door. She never reacted to my irritableness with any malice back to me, and this made me feel even more irritable. I would think often, “How can she be so kind and sweet and helpful when I have to be so miserable and in pain?”. The Mean Years covered a time span of nearly 5 years, mostly on, sometimes off. Those years were very difficult for me, I had just become separated from my husband, after which “Bill” became extremely mean and harsh to me in ways that I cannot describe. Over the 12 years that I “knew” Bill he slowly and silently stole my dignity and self-worth until I was a shadow of a woman. Bill stole my belongings, all my photographs of my Great and Grandmothers and of my Mother, many photographs of my son when he was growing up, also 8 year’s worth of VHS videos of my son. Bill stole, by refusing to return to me, many valuable antiques I had had that belonged to my Great grandmother, and to my Grandmother and were given to me to keep by my mother. These things, many of which were over 100 years old, were treasured by me for many years and Bill stole them and destroyed them and I was never to see those things again. I can still see them in my mind’s eye.
Deb knew that I was horribly devastated at the losses I suffered all of a sudden. She knew I was depressed and staying in bed for days on end. Deb continued to knock on my door every morning, pulling me out of my bed of depression, where I stayed, hiding, and feeling crushed under the world of pain that I allowed Bill to create in my life. Deb usually spent about 2 hours each morning with me, requesting me to make her a double shot of espresso latte because I made it the best. She knew what my needs were and did them for me when I was unable. There were countless mornings during The Mean Years, where all I could do was cry until the tears were all dried up all the while unable to speak. Deb listened. Deb allowed me to talk about my feelings. She listened when no one else would take the time. There were days when she sat with me for even 4 or 5 hours straight. She often talked to me about the cruel natures that some people seem to have within their hearts. I was very bitter towards the verbal and mental abuse and other injustices that Bill tortured me with, all while with nary a tear in his eye. Bill was the cruelest man I have ever known in my life. However, every time I made a hate-filled comment to Deb about Bill, she would counter it with a positive thought. This drove me almost nuts. I did not realize until later, how much this helped me heal.
Deb never left my house until I was past my feelings of grief for the day. The pressures that would build up each day, Deb helped me release them each morning. After my mood changed from worst imaginable to talking freely, laughing, and wanting to do fun things, like cook, sew, or gardening. After Deb spent hours with me each morning, I became whole for the rest of the day. Whole, at least until the tiredness from the work of the day washed over me, diluting me while the dark black cloud-like mist of depression drew me back and enveloped me within its clutches, and I became weak, unable to escape from while it slowly stole my identity throughout the night. Yet Deb would arrive again in the morning just like clockwork.
Deb was one of THE most talented artists I’ve ever known. She had her own art gallery in a quaint historical building in downtown Old San Pedro, California. Deb’s passion for art moved her through college until she glorified herself with her Master’s Degree of Fine Arts from UCLA, an old and well-respected college in Los Angeles, California. Deb tirelessly did her studies and art projects daily for hours on end, always with enthusiasm. Her boat steadily sailed over the years. Deb became a famous artist in the Photo Realism style of artwork. She became famous for her very large paintings of notable historical sites, movie scenes and old buildings located throughout the Los Angeles basin, including Hollywood. After I finished a project and needed a break, I would go to Deb’s house and lay on her bed for a couple hours while she sat at her huge art desk. Deb often got me up off her bed to have me use a linen counter and high magnification eye loupe on a stand, which she placed over a section of her painting and showed me the ink or paint lines she had put on the art board using a brush. I laughed when she called it a brush, because the ‘brush’ consisted of ONE of her eyebrow hairs! Yes! She would paint a 30 inch by 40 inch painting using a ONE hair ‘paintbrush.’
At one time, within a few months after I met Deb, she was visiting me while I was sitting at my dining table plucking my eyebrows, her mouth started watering, she became serious and started begging me to let her have the hairs I had removed. I laughed and told her, “Why NO, you cannot have my hairs, you might do Voo Doo on me!” After that, I always saved my plucked hairs for her in a small clean clear glass Pimento jar. She was grateful because with all the painting she did, she was running out of eyebrow hairs. I would always laugh when she would say, “Are you going to pluck your eyebrows soon? It looks like they need it.” Seriously? I used to tease her that she only picked friends that had nice bushy eyebrows. How funny, what fun we had. Simple fun, but I loved every minute of our fun.
Deb lived her entire life with her sweet Uncle Georgy, a highly intelligent man, with a quirky personality. I also called him Uncle Georgy, when I met him in 1988, he was already retired from his nearly 50 year career of Los Angeles City Building Planner, helped create and design many of the historical buildings in and around the Los Angeles basin. I enjoyed perusing through Uncle Georgie’s massive picture book collection about Los Angeles. Deb frequently drove me around throughout the city of Los Angeles to show me particular historical buildings while explaining to me the story of how they were designed and when they were designed, going on to explain in detail their history, sometimes ad nauseum. She knew how Uncle Georgy was involved in their design and construction and explained that too. He often had the final say for approval before construction could begin. Without Deb’s generous time spent with me touring Los Angeles, I probably would have never learned the rich History of the “City of Angels, Los Angeles, California.” 
My house was next door to Deb and Uncle Georgy’s house in Inglewood, California. Our backyards bordered with the backside of Inglewood Cemetery. Deb and I would often go walking in the cemetery. Deb had grown up there and had explored the cemetery. Going with Deb through the cemetery was like going on a tour with a tour guide-telling stories. Deb told me many stories about the people buried in the cemetery. There was a married couple, whose huge headstones had a photograph of both of them. They were high wire artists. I still remember Mabel Miller, whose grave marker was directly below my backyard’s low concrete wall, but looking down it was a 6-foot drop. No one ever laid flowers on Mabel Miller’s grave marker. Deb and I often sat on the wall and I would always bring up Mabel Miller, telling Deb that I often wondered what her life was like, whether she had any living family remaining and wondered why Mabel died. Deb and I discussed death often, and it was in our talks about death that I became unafraid of death. Deb often remarked, “When I die, I die. That is it. But then my art will be worth millions of dollars.” I agreed. Deb then went on to say, “Most artist’s work doesn’t become famous until after they have died.” I feel happy that Deb enjoyed fame for her artwork while she was alive and well. I will say, “Deb was one heck of an artist. Her paintings looked as perfect as a photograph.”
Deb was also a noted Photographer. In the early 2000s, my son was married in San Pedro. During the ceremony, I looked up and saw Deb standing on a boat out on the water, looking past the wedding arch while my son, Loren and his wife to be, Cynthia, stood there getting married. Deb was taking photographs! While I was sitting there, watching Deb out of the corner of my eye, laughing at Deb’s constant quest for adventure, and the vision of Deb on that boat made me laugh every time I have thought of it since. It was a beautiful wedding ceremony for Loren and his new wife Cynthia. Loren was always very close to Deb Marr.
Often, on Friday nights, Deb would show up at my door with a box full of Cheese Burgers and Onion Rings from our local restaurant. These were not junky Cheese Burgers and O-rings! They were made at Pann’s Restaurant, which is a famous Fifties restaurant in Westchester, Los Angeles, California and was the main scene in many movies, notably xXx. Pann’s also has a full-page dedication in Wikipedia:
“Pann's is a coffee shop restaurant considered an institution in Westchester, Los Angeles, California, for its history, role in movies, and distinctive architecture. The restaurant was opened by husband and wife George and Rena Poulos in 1958 and is still operated by the Poulos family as of 2011. It is also known for its neon sign, Googie architecture, and 1950s decor. Pann's is located at the intersection of La Cienega Boulevard and La Tijera Boulevard in Westchester, Los Angeles. The building and its iconic neon sign were designed by architects Eldon Davis and Helen Liu Fong [who died in 2005  ] of the Armet & Davis architectural firm. Pann's remains one of the best preserved examples of Davis' Googie designs, according to the Los Angeles Times. Despite claims made on the restaurant's website, it was not, in fact, used as a filming location in the movie Pulp Fiction  Like many coffee shops it serves breakfast all day and night. The restaurant also serves "blue-plate specials," complete meals that vary daily.
Pann's includes an angular edifice and large plate glass windows and has been described as having "the classic coffee shop architecture". It was designed by Helen Liu Fong, who also designed the Holiday Bowl, Johnie's coffee shop, and the original Norms Restaurant. She included tropical landscaping in the design, and was part of the firm of Armet & Davis that one commentator refers to as "the Frank Lloyd Wright of 1950s coffee shops." Pann's is currently owned by Rena Poulos and son Jim Poulos. Ed Begley told a story about running into César Chávez at Pann's in the 1980s.
Pann's was featured in another story in the Los Angeles Times, "Going on a hunt for Googie architecture," which noted the [Pann’s] restaurant's tilted roof and sign, tropical plants and exposed stone walls indoors and out, and glass windows wrapping around the restaurant. Pann's celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2008.
Eldon Davis, deserves a special mention for his Googie  architect, who died on Friday, April 25, 2011, was the famous architect who designed restaurants in Googie style. With their soaring and exaggerated roof lines, their buildings appeared to defy gravity, a structural innovation for which Davis was largely responsible.
Built on La Cienega Boulevard in 1957, Norms had many features that came to typify the whimsical style of architecture known as Googie — a vaulted roof that resembles a flying wing, a room-length dining counter and an attention-grabbing vertical neon sign with roots in Las Vegas kitsch.” 
Neon signs became a trademark, and they devised an animated sign for Pann's, a coffee shop in Westchester. Run by the same family since it opened in 1958, the restaurant is probably the best preserved example of Davis' work, …”.
Pann's neon sign, Westchester, Los Angeles, California 2009, also a view of the indoors.
Deb and I have shared many meals and conversations together while dining on fabulous tasting food there at Pann’s Restaurant. Again, without Deb dragging me out and about I probably would never have found Pann’s. Deb also would bring Fried Chicken in a huge red-checkered bucket from Dinah’s Restaurant located in Westchester, Los Angeles, California at the SW corner of Manchester Boulevard and Sepulveda Boulevard.   Fried Chicken from Dinah’s was so good; it became a Sunday habit for over 10 years at my house. Deb often came to my house for Sunday Fried Chicken from Dinah’s. When Deb and I did lots of yard work, we had no time to cook, so either Pann’s or Dinah’s was our favorite go-to for good energizing food. Yummy! We also would go to Dinah’s for a sit down dinner out. I would always order Apple Pancake, which was spiced with cinnamon and brown sugar, browned to perfection. That Apple Pancake was always so big it would hang over the edge of the plate. I always asked for a to-go box because I would eat only half and save the other half for breakfast the next morning. Oftentimes, Deb knew I had my leftovers, and would arrive at my front door, I would let her in, and we would share my leftover Apple Pancake together with a cup of espresso latte style. Deb was crazy craving my latte’s I made at home in my Italian Espresso Machine and so did I. Deb bought me two containers each of plastic to-go lids and cups from a big box store. I used these cups every morning to drink my latte from while driving to nursing school at Mount St. Mary’s College in Brentwood, California where I graduated from with a Bachelor’s Degree of Nursing. Deb kept me supplied throughout my 7 ½ years of college to obtain my degree.
I was so very sorry to hear that Deb Marr died yesterday, on January 31, 2014. I cried all day today, February 1, 2014. Deb was a wonderful woman and friend. Many people will miss her. I have always thought of her often, and now knowing that when I visit Los Angeles, I will be visiting her gravesite. I will bring her a Cheese Burger and Onion Rings from Pann’s Restaurant. I hope Deb can smell them from Heaven as she sits there petting her beloved Golden Retriever, lovingly named Max (Maximillian the 3rd). Deb is loved.
If you read this far, you are truly a trooper. Thank you for listening. I will miss my friend Deb.
REFERENCES AND FURTHER READINGS
Obituary: Eldon Davis: www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-eld
Westchester, Los Angeles, California: Westchester, Los Angeles, California Wikipedia page.
Dinah's Restaurant in Westchester, Los Angeles, California.
Deb Marr's Lazy Dog Studio link to her gallery of works www.lazydogstudio.net/about.html
Friday, January 31, 2014
When I ask you to listen to me,
And you start giving me advice,
You have not done what I asked.
When I ask that you listen to me,
And you begin to tell me what I shouldn’t feel that way,
You are trampling on my feelings,
When I ask you to listen to me,
And you feel you have to do something to solve my problems,
You have failed me, strange as it may seem.
All that I ask is that you listen,
Not talk or do – just hear me.
When you do something for me
That I need to do for myself,
You contribute to my fear and feelings of inadequacy.
But when you accept as a simple fact
That I do feel what I feel, no matter how irrational,
Then I can quit trying to convince you
And go about the business
Of understanding what’s behind my feelings.
So, please listen and just hear me.
And, if you want to talk,
Wait a minute for your turn –
And I’ll listen to you.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
YOU'RE ONLY ONE WORKOUT AWAY FROM FEELING GOOD.
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