Looking toward the month of March has been mostly melancholy.
Though I’ve told this story before, I continue to reminisce about the year as a young adult when I needed a break. As an aspiring advertising copywriter in New York City in the 1970s, my employer recognized my need and encouraged my going to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands, one of his favorite getaways. He said if I decided to stay, my job in NYC would be saved for me if I wanted it.
Long story short, I stayed for eight months. For room and board, I took a job as weekend manager at the charming guesthouse where I’d stayed that first weekend, nestled in the hill across from the U.S. Post Office in Charlotte Amalie. Monday through Friday, I filled in for a first-grade teacher on maternity leave at Antilles School.
At the guesthouse, Sam and Lillian oversaw housekeeping operations and the kitchen. Originally from Antigua, the couple showed me the ropes with their dedication to hospitality and a job well done. I can still hear Sam’s whistling familiar melodies while he tenderized and cubed turtle meat for soup, a Galleon House specialty.
I’m a terrible whistler, more apt to hum which is mostly annoying to folks in the next room.
Once when I lamented my lack of whistling talent while helping to set up the buffet for Galleon House guests, Sam beamed with a big smile, “Only truly happy people can whistle,” he joked.
I’ve often wondered if it’s true!
Flash forward to Naperville. More than a few times, some landscapers’ joyful whistling has inspired me to pucker up. My test tune is usually “On a Clear Day You Can See Forever,” a song I sometimes sing during morning walks around May Watts Pond where no one can hear me. Still, no success at whistling.
Considering the upcoming Consolidated Elections; March Madness; trying to keep up with global technology, including GPS and AI; local infrastructure and sidewalk repair needs; and dealing with discombobulated daily distractions, walks in the park with nature keep me grounded.
Kindly note the use of the long word “discombobulated” to denote I’m a little confused—and to create alliteration. So what if I can’t whistle?
Shop local
In what may seem unrelated thoughts, I’m happy to live in a thriving city where the shop local, dine Naperville and celebrate safely movement has had its impact on our city coffers. Recent Academy Awards presentations reminded me how I used to enjoy movies on the big screen in theaters.
Innovative folks seize opportunities to be productive, paid and passionate here. Purchases at local car dealerships also drive up sales tax revenue. We were happy our daughter did lots of research in Consumer Reports and decided on a Gerald Kia.
Forget-Me-Nots
In the spirit of the spring awareness campaign planned by the Alzheimer’s Association years ago, I planted a small garden of forget-me-nots, a tribute to my mother for all the joy and sacrifices she gave our family. And during these days when many news releases arrive via email about National Women’s History Month, my thoughts turn to many local women who have made a difference in this community. Yet, I continue to wonder why so many special days are set aside throughout the year to pay tribute to this group or that individual.
Who can remember it all? Why not simply remember all the good deeds of all human beings every day who address the challenges that unite us?
Here’s hoping folks will live and learn to make the connection that a robust economy is our best way to larger paychecks and generosity, a means to help fund nonprofit initiatives that address Alzheimer’s, mental health, autism, homelessness, food insecurity and more.
To meet obligations, I’m grateful our community recognizes that certain social services need assistance.
And now thoughts turn to the Friday VFW Fish Fry every week now through April 16. And I’m remembering National Vietnam Veterans Day on March 29 and how much I cherish liberty and peace.
I’ll keep trying to whistle a happy tune. Freedom to choose and volunteer is good for the soul.
Thanks for reading!
– Stephanie Penick
PN Publisher
