But AARP's 2009 Convention accomplished what neither family nor friends could - that is, get me to visit Las Vegas. Ever since a friend convinced me to bet on a Jai Alai game, I've vowed to never again waste money on gambling. I lost a hard earned two dollars. Don't laugh - that was a lot for me in the '70s. 

Amazingly, casinos appeared everywhere - in the airport, hotel lobbies, on the way to and in restaurants. The cashiers even wished me a lucky day. I'm surprised there was no penny machine in my hotel room. Call me a spoilsport, but I survived Vegas!

Now, I don't judge those who gamble. That is their choice. However, I want to receive something worthwhile for my spending. So, I saved for my trip to Las Vegas@50+, and, as expected, the university sessions were quite informative. And the freebies added three pounds to my luggage weight! 

Penny and Gary Marshall with John Amos and George Takei kept us laughing during the opening session. Maya Angelou and Norman Lear imparted wisdom in the closing session as only an 80-something can. I should be as wise when I reach my 80s. Hopefully, AARP will make copies of their conversations available.

Next year, it's Orlando@50+ in my home state of Florida, a four-hour drive for me. Orlando is the home of Disney World and several other tourist attractions. Ironically, I've never visited Disney World, only Disneyland. Next year, for sure.

If you watch the popular television series “Grey’s Anatomy,” you remember the laughter at George’s funeral. One of the characters, Izzie, fled the burial site seemingly distraught over George’s death. Friends and fellow surgeons immediately ran after her to offer comfort. They discovered, however, that she was actually laughing. They then started laughing too. Imagine that!

A few days ago I found a snapshot of myself at my 50^th birthday party. The card my coworkers all signed reminded me that I was older than county government, a downtown park, the county transit system, and the board of commissioners. Of course, they meant it all in fun and with great affection.

A recent article on social networking websites mentioned that baby boomers had taken over Facebook (facebook.com), making it less appealing to the teen crowd. So, curious Judy and borderline boomer that I am, I paid Facebook a visit. Knowing no one with a Facebook page, I registered anyway with the sole purpose of finding family – family on my father’s side that I’d never met. Actually, I hoped they’d find me.

As I walked through Walmart a few days ago, two young girls argued in loud voices in the electronics section. One cursed using that foul F-word directed at the other. The second young lady commented to her friend that she'd just cursed in front of "that old lady." Of course, I continued to stroll, but I did so smiling. What the girls couldn't know is I'd recently celebrated - and I mean celebrated! - my 65th b-day. I smiled as the thought came to me that they should be so blessed as to live to be my age and still enjoy good health. This old lady has more fun now than I ever did in previous decades. I rise when I want, stay at home if I choose, surf the Internet all day if it pleases me, and travel out of town at will. Life is good, by the grace of God.

Someone once said that thoughts have wings and travel much faster than spoken words. Consider our forefathers and foremothers. Had it not been for their unified, unspoken thoughts and desire for freedom, I dare say that we, their descendants, would not be living and enjoying such freedom in this nation. They refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.

"There is nothing so powerful as an idea whose time has come," as the saying goes. That timely idea always has been liberty for all people--freedom from all that binds and outrages. Let's love to live and live to set all life free.

In 2008, this nation elected a President with African blood flowing through his veins. The door to possibilities opened wide for our people and our nation. But the work is just beginning. Let’s listen to our hearts and take heed.

I hope all enjoyed a happy 4th. Blessings.

Archangel Michael, Michael, Michael!

I adore his name.

Archangel Michael, Michael, Michael!

I adore his flame

He defends eternally

sons and daughters of God

from forces who'd rob them of the light.

Evil takes flight in his mighty presence,

for he is the essence

of the true warrior of peace.

Fear and trembling cease

in the soul when Prince Michael is near.

Hear him, heed him,

if you've lost the way.

He'll protect you at any moment,

night or day.

Defender of the faithful

is his divine purpose.

He'll shield us, he vows,

from those who'd hurt us,

those who'd rather see

our souls die to the light

than fly into the arms

of the Almighty.

Righteously call to him daily,

to the full flame of his heart.

"Archangel Michael, help me,

help me, help me,"

is a good way to start.

He'll free every soul

from a burdensome yolk.

So invoke his name,

invoke his flame.

He's ever at our side,

to watch over us,

to be our friend and guide.

Call to him.

For this heavenly being,

no soul is too great or too small.

Seek him always. Stand tall

in the divine presence of

Archangel Michael, Michael, Michael!

He loves us all.

As I walked along a sidewalk some years ago, a car - out of control - came barreling towards me. I instinctively called to Archangel Michael for protection. In so doing, I jumped about five feet away from where I stood. Knowing I could not alone lift my full-figured frame to jump backwards five feet, there was no other explanation but divine intervention from Archangel Michael.  On another occasion, my Jeep stopped in traffic. Cars do that when they run out of gas. LOL! Again, I sat there and called for an Archangel Michael miracle. I prayed to Archangel Michael to please just help me get to the nearest gas station. In  a moment my Jeep - running on fumes, needle way past the E mark - started. At the gas station, I used $3 out of the $5 in my wallet to buy gas. The car would not start! So, I used the entire $5 for gas. Looking back, Arch. Michael no doubt knew that $3 was not enough to get me home. So I wrote this poem to honor him.

Both of my brothers, my sister's husband, several nephews, and my godson have honorably served this nation in the US military, and some as police officers. May they each receive God's blessings here and in the hereafter for giving so unselfishly of themselves that we may continue to enjoy the freedoms no other nation enjoys. I pray they and others who serve will not have done so in vain.

Blessings on Memorial Day 2009 to all who serve, have served, and will serve in the US Armed Forces and as law enforcement personnel.

(With apologies to Emily Dickinson)

Death stopped by today.

I gently sent her away.

No time to die, I said,

I must make the bed,

wash my clothes,

mend my spirit, I suppose,

and comfort a friend.

And there is no end

to places I want to see.

So, Death, leave me!

Death frowns and sighs.

I see it in her eyes

Though sweet this soul may be

she will not exit gently into the light

without a feisty fight.

I cannot leave earth now.

I must weave my spiritual garment, I vow,

while I serve my fellow

man, woman, and child, I bellow.

Death soon relented.

How shall I spend it,

the extra, moments, days, years?

Surely without fear

of strife and flying

of life and dying.

There's yet so much to do.

So move along now, Death.

Shoo!

The intoxicating aroma of blooming jasmine filled the summer air. Night had settled over Liberty City. Familiar sounds of chirping crickets and barking dogs punctured the quiet. Soothing breezes flowed gently through open bedroom windows with shades raised as high as modesty would allow. It was summer in 1950s Miami.

The sleep fairy slowly lulled five-year-old me into blissful unawareness. As mama in her familiar white head tie made from old sheets knelt beside the bed in prayer, my eyes valiantly fought a losing battle to keep her in sight. Mama's presence assured me that nothing could harm me. Always calm and in charge, she worked in the laundry from sunrise to sunset six days a week. But she always made time to sit down and talk with her four children.

My sister kept mama up to date on neighborhood gossip. The hottest topic that summer was the peeping tom. Every night mama heard rumors of the Liberty City projects peeping tom. Mary across the street said he'd been on her block just a few nights before. She didn't see him herself, but someone told her about another neighbor who knew someone who knew a relative who supposedly saw him looking in her window one night. And so on and so on.

Mama was praying as I mentioned earlier, and I was just about to drift off to sleep. Then we heard it - a faint rustling of the shrubbery under the window. Mama kept praying and ignored it at first, but we heard it again. Louder. Then a man's muffled voice.

A shadowy figure rose slowly and ducked quickly as if to avoid detection. We could make out his form in the moonlight but not his features. Well, mama wasn't going to let the peeping tom hurt us, so she set off the only alarm we had in those days.

Mama jumped up, grabbed me, and ran into the hallway, hollering to my sister, "It's the peeping tom, it's the peeping tom." She hollered so loud, it probably woke the dead or at least the nearby neighbors. My sister came running and both of them were screaming. I held onto mama for dear life.

Then, the peeping tom stood up again and stayed up. He tried to stifle his giggles. However, after a while, he was laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach. We knew that laugh. Mama started laughing and fussing at the same time.

"Charles Whitfield Carroll," mama half yelled and half whispered, "get in this house right now!" She only called out my brothers' entire name when she was ready to give a broom whacking. I looked up, totally confused,  and tried to read her face.

My sister opened the front door and our oldest brother stumbled in laughing, hardly able to catch his breath. He grabbed his belly like he had cramps. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or be scared of my brother. So, I timidly asked mama, "Is Charles the peeping tom?" Reassuring he wasn't, mama started laughing and fussing again.

After a few whacks from mama's broom for scaring us, my brother explained that he was hiding from friends who'd followed him home looking for a free meal. Actually, they and my younger brother heard the commotion and appeared at the door in a few seconds. Mama invited them in and my sister fixed sandwiches. We all had a good laugh about the peeping tom - who wasn't my brother.

Thinking back, no one heard any more about the peeping tom or if police ever caught him. For the rest of the summer, five-year-old-me felt more excited about traveling on the train to New York with mama, turning six, getting my first bicycle at my first birthday party, and starting first grade in the fall.