“Hollywood Heartthrobs”

         Because of Netflix and TCM, I started a mental list of Hollywood Heartthrobs. These splendid actors, with their dashing good looks, draw me into their worlds for about two hours at a time. The other day, I realized that my list of favorites included debonair dudes  dating back to my parent's generation and went all the way to current gents with “bedroom eyes.”

         I began to wonder exactly what combination of traits made me hunger for one Hollywood hunk over another. When I considered my list critically, I realized that voices play a huge role in my criteria for sexy. Looks may come and go, wrinkles and sags eventually get the best of everyone, but voices—well, they stay wonderfully sensual throughout a lifetime.

         My admiration for many of my heartthrobs evolved as an appreciation of their ability to craft their art. The actor playing the same character year after year and film after film didn't make my list. I particularly enjoy watching a performance where I lose the actor within the character he portrays.

         I sat down today to generate an inventory of my Top Ten Heartthrobs, and surprised myself when I crossed several names off of my list. I know my sister will squeal in protest over the deletion of Sean Connery while several other friends will feel disbelief that I don’t have Robert Redford, Mel Gibson, or Richard Gere. Anyway. . . here’s the list:

Chapman’s Top Ten Heartthrobs (in no particular order):

1.       Gregory Peck                             6.  Jimmy Stewart

2.       Cary Grant                                  7.  Gene Kelly

3.      Johnny Depp                               8.  Keanu Reeves

4.      Harrison Ford                              9.  Tom Hanks

5.      Denzel Washington                    10. Orlando Bloom

My curiosity longs to know, who would be on your list? 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Recharging Batteries”

         This morning, as I plugged my cell phone into an outlet, I found myself wishing that I could recharge my batteries as easily. Today’s Monday, and fatigue rolled out of bed with me this morning. Often people counsel me, “take care of yourself” while I take care of my mother, but it’s a difficult task to accomplish. No matter how tired I feel, I still have to tend to my mother’s needs. I rely heavily upon David to help in the mornings (he often gets up after only four or five hours of sleep when she will no longer sleep). Once 8 o’clock arrives, though, I’m on my own until David returns at 6 PM.

         Weekend visits from my siblings help dramatically, but they fly by too quickly to really get much of a break. Both my brother and my sister usually arrive on Friday evenings and leave early Sunday mornings. That only gives us Saturday. Often, we use that free day to accomplish errands that David and I need to do together. Sometimes we pick up Paul and enjoy a nice evening meal at a favorite restaurant. But almost always we spend part of that “day off” still in our home helping with something Mom needs.

         I dream of spending an entire weekend in bed, reading a paperback novel grabbed from the grocery store checkout counter. I snooze whenever I want for as long as I want. When I finally get out of bed, it’s to light scented candles and take a bubble bath without getting dragged out by someone else’s needs and wants. I get to spend as much time as I want swinging in my tree, and I don’t run any errands, cook any meals, make any beds, or deal with anyone’s demands.

         For now, my batteries never get fully recharged. Some days, like today, I start at 40%. I am fortunate because I haven’t dipped into the dangerously drained levels yet because of the aid from my husband. I worry, though, that his batteries need recharging, too. My son, brother, and sister all help frequently and cheerfully, but the block of time they can stay limits my ability to get fully revitalized. Eventually, we’ll need a vacation where we can really plug in and recharge.   

 Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Rain on the Rooftop”

Rain on the rooftop, a Texas lullaby   

Thunder a distant heartbeat, wind a crooning sigh   

Watch the windows weep as lightning cuts the sky   

Clouds roll and tumble, carry raindrops on a ride   

Trees cleanse their dusty leaves—shake off Summer’s dry   

Droplets form to puddles, and rivers start to fly   

Mother Earth’s cracked face smiles and laughs in reply   

To rain on the rooftop, a Texas lullaby   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Flaming Liberal”

Hair afire 

eyes ablaze  

bleeding heart worn on my sleeve  

believing in changing my world  

one deed at a time  

hands open in kindness  

soul accepting alternatives  

mind embracing the strength of diversity  

Hair afire  

eyes ablaze  

bleeding heart worn on my sleeve  

expecting chivalry and honor  

even among the thieves  

hands sustaining the destitute  

soul offering them hope  

mind implementing the strategies of success   

Hair afire  

eyes ablaze  

bleeding heart worn on my sleeve  

acknowledging the flaws   

within the order  

hands mending the tears  

soul nursing lost courage  

mind deciphering the woes of our world  

Hair afire  

eyes ablaze  

bleeding heart worn on my sleeve  

ignoring taunts and insults  

from conformists  

hands reaching for harmony  

soul seeking tolerance  

mind exploring multiple paths for our destiny    

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“The Moat”

Moat at Trim Castle
Trim Ireland Sept. 2010

Subconsciously,   
I dug the ditch   
a spoonful at a time,   
never realizing I retreated   
behind tower walls   
to protect our ways.   
With bridge drawn,   
I tucked us into safety,   
buffering us from atrocities—   
the truths too discordant to hear.   
The trench widened and deepened,   
separating us from outsiders—   
foreigners with cruel customs,   
invaders contaminating our traditions   
with alien perspectives.   
I defended our ideals   
with water and wishes;   
yearning to shelter and shield;   
armoring us against    
the rest of the world.   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Trim Castle from across the Boyne River
September 2011