Icelandair and First Icelandic Impressions

We decided to take advantage of Icelandair's reasonable price and stopover deal on a recent trip to Copenhagen and Baltic countries. It was a good start I thought when Icelandair personnel handed us a bottle of water upon entering the plane. After all, it was thirty five degrees celsius in Toronto and most of us were dressed in spring/fall gear ready for our adventure. As hubby inserted our carry on luggage into the overhead bins, we heard an annoyed voice, "Hurry up and move out of the way," coming from one of the flight attendants. Disturbing.

Our seats were tiny and cramped, unlike any other airlines we've endured. The back of mine buckled like a piece of cardboard every time I moved and the arm rests were separating, threatening to pinch us if we dared relax and lean on them. It was an older plane. Nonetheless, we were impressed with the selection of inflight entertainment which included documentaries about Iceland. Very interesting. I investigated the seat pouch and discovered a "Loftslag" bag. Many airlines, have plain white ones. These were made from recycled paper, had illustrations and definitions along with weather and climatic conditions on the back. Nice. They also had written permission, in fact, it was suggested we take them with us.

Bus transfers were available for purchase inflight. Great idea. These transfers take you to the capital city of Reykjavik (pron. Rek-vik...the written letter "a" seems to suck up surrounding letters in Icelandic).

After landing at Keflavik International Airport (pron. Kev-lik), we were sent out into the rain and down a flight of metallic stairs, carry on bags in tow, onto the runway, where we were herded onto a bus that had no more than a dozen seats...standing room only. In the terminal, as is the case in many airports, there was a long trek to customs where people crowded in disorderly bunches until proceeding to an officer. (Our next flight several days later had lengthy delay, more bus discomfort, additional rudeness from personnel, but I won't dwell on that because this was a small part and did not ruin our adventures).

"How long will you be staying in Europe?" I was asked by the customs officer.

For once, I responded quickly, "Three weeks, Iceland until Wednesday."

I hate to admit this but I have never thought of Iceland as part of Europe. Of course it is. It belonged to Denmark until sometime in the 1940's and has been an independent country of 300,000 pop. ever since.

As we loaded our far too many bags onto a cart, we exited the terminal to a misty 12 degrees. NOTE - It seems it's possible to purchase duty free items when incoming and prior to leaving the airport. The returning Icelanders take advantage of this to stock up on the all too expensive liquor.

Upon describing the landscape, a comedian in the show "How to be Icelandic in 60 Minutes" (more on that later), said, "Tourists leave the airport and think they've landed on the moon."

It was truly barren.  Since I hadn't slept in 18 hours, I didn't care. All I wanted was find a bed, so I didn't even flinch as we passed the famous Blue Lagoon. Unfortunately, my stomach did. Good thing I had liberated the loftslag bag from the plane just in case. We arrived at our airbnb host's house, headed for our temporary home and immediately fell asleep.

Back Again...and You Still Haven't Received My Postcard?

Yes, I'm back. It's been awhile since I've had or have taken the time to post. There's been much happening but I'm not always certain what I want to share, what I have time to share, what is appropriate, or what is of interest. The latter is the least important to me because I write this blog for myself and not necessarily other people. I also want to avoid creating a diary of "Today, I did this. Yesterday I did that."

After having a few days of "down time" to process the last few weeks, I've decided that there are indeed some experiences so unique that they're worth sharing.

I think the reason I share info on trips is because there are details that one forgets and might need in future, or can be helpful to other travellers who venture on similar voyages. So after having spoken to a friend about whether or not I'd go through my most recent trek in blog form, I decided to start. It will all end when I lose interest or when it starts sounding like, "Then we went here.Then we went there. Then we saw...."

First stop...Iceland with Icelandair.

More Zoo Memories and My First Vacation

Every generation complains about the next one. I know my parents had a difficult time. It wasn't easy for immigrants, speaking a different language, in their late teens, with a child to pull up roots and begin again. I can't imagine doing that and I appreciate how difficult their struggle was.

It's interesting how during my more youthful years, when we wanted something, we were willing to take extra jobs on weekends and holidays to earn the money. We did what was necessary. We didn't complain that we were working too hard. We didn't obsess over the meaninglessness of whatever the job was. We didn't try to do as little as possible and get something for nothing. We simply took care of business. I don't want to go so far as to say today's generation is spoiled or generally like that. Not all are. There are those who struggle and put in multitudinous hours to achieve their goals. There are many who are successful and accomplished in their twenties. I am always amazed at some of the olympic athletes, just as an example.

While working part time at the zoo (see previous blog), I did a lot of research. Since Al Gore had not yet invented the internet, and googling, was far into the future, I had to go to the library and find information in books...the kind with paper pages and print. Each week, I tried to research the plants and animals and an area of the zoo in which I was working. Visitors asked questions and I was glad to be able to give them intelligent answers. My official title was "guide" although my job consisted of making sure nobody abused any flora and fauna in the facility. I believe I had a shoe box sized walkie talkie assigned for this purpose, adding to the official look of my lovely brown uniform.

After only a few weeks at the zoo, they downsized, deciding that fewer employees were essential. I panicked. I had not yet saved enough two dollar and twenty five cents' or centses or pennies (a monetary unit in the 70's) for our planned vacation. Fortunately, I was one of the employees to be retained.

I actually enjoyed the diversion so much, that I ended up keeping this summer and part time weekend employment for several years. Then-hubby was hired later and the two of us sold tickets and memberships. We even sold zoo maps, partly on salary and partly on commission (3 cents per), until someone realized that our eager, loud, and enthusiastic shouts of "get your zoo maps here. You can't see the zoo without a map,"gave us far too much income and was cutting into zoo profits. Then back we went to the membership sauna (see upcoming booth description).

The zoo became so popular and crowded in the summer, that extra cash booths sprung up outside the gates. These little wooden structures were something akin to a Finnish sauna, complete with solar heat, but no cold lake water. A greenhouse might have been a more comfortable working environment. Breaks were few and far between. But alas, I didn't complain. There was always the alternative...no additional income.

On one occasion, I worked an entire weekend and earned nothing thanks to a dishonest customer who bilked me out of twenty dollars and absconded with it into the crowd. I had been momentarily distracted while wiping my dripping brow. It was then that my view of the world started to change. Did people not realize or care that any shortages would come out of my pay? Too many shortages could result in termination of employ. That's how things worked at one time.

Nonetheless, eventually, we earned enough for the big trip to the Bahamas. We were there at approximately the same time as our neighbours and their friends, although, our resort was considerably more modest in nature...er....cheap. We boarded a $99 non inclusive night flight (available back in the day). We also filled our luggage with food. The frozen loaf of bread began to perspire more than we did as we dragged our soggy suitcase through Bahamian customs. The officers must have felt sorry for us because once they were assured we weren't smuggling anything more than tuna and peanut butter, they sent us on our way.

It was a memorable job and an even more memorable trip. I had my first taste of conch chowder and my first experience in the gorgeous, not to be forgotten, Caribbean.

Memories of the 70's and Metro Toronto Zoo

After a year or two of working at my career, some debt, and a serious lack of savings, then-hubby (as opposed to now-hubby), and I moved into a brand new, almost completed, high rise. There was an Otis strike, so the elevating device had not yet been installed. We were fine with it because we lived on the tenth floor and it saved us ten dollars per flight a month in rent rebate for what ended up being quite a length of time...seven months or so if I recall correctly. 

We received moving help from the superintendant and a couple of other apartment employees. It amused us to see many of our second hand furnishings hauled  by a rope up the outside of the building. Thankfully, the dresser containing our drawers of undergarments, or just our drawers as it were, made it. I didn't think I needed to empty the unit, just as it didn't occur to me that my scanty panties could possibly end up parachuting into a parking full of cars, or worse....passersby. Of course this activity always attracted oglers. A few items were carried up to the apartment. My glass coffee table was one of the choices. It however, met its fate around the seventh floor when the superintendent squeezed the ends of the unit a bit too hard. He needed stitches. It needed the trash compactor. 

As I mentioned, our rental was on the tenth floor so we not only saved money, but became physically fit, and experts in planning. After all, who wanted to make that trek several times when something was forgotten? We soon got to know most people in the building, nodding our heads or grunting in passing while panting (this "pant"ing having nothing to do with aforementioned drawers) on our way up the stairs. When the fire alarm went off, (thankfully not too frequently), everyone perspired as they hustled down the stairwell, keeping their small, illegal pets, mostly cats, hidden under their coats. The coats were a must for this feline deception, even in the summer. And yes, we had a cat too.

Before long, we met our immediate neighbours. They were a lovely couple, our age... with a cat. They invited us to join them at their place for drinks. As it turned out, we were not only neighbours, but she and I were going to be work colleagues. At some point they introduced us to more friends and told us about their upcoming vacation to the Bahamas.

This pronouncement made me not only envious, but restless. Because of years of education, our holidays to this point had consisted of either working in the summer or, after I was married to then-hubby,  going to visit the in-laws in Kitchener. They in turn treated us to delicious home cooked Mennonite meals...capon (not to be confused with Capone), pigtails, or pot roast. Sometimes we went to a steakhouse and that was even more special even though I still ordered the pigtails. 

I was fortunate to be gainfully employed...for ten months of the year. The details surrounding the acquisition of this much coveted job, will require another blog in which I will surely elaborate on one of my current pet peeves, youth entitlement. Alas, I digress. On with the story.

It seemed to me that we too should be able to formulate a plan to earn extra funds during our two months of financial drought. We had the time. We had no cash. Unfortunately, then-hubby was tied up with summer courses, a promise he made to advance his unemployed state to that of small income earner. I on the other hand, had no such obligation, so when I heard about the opening of the Metro Toronto Zoo, I decided to apply. 

On August 15. 1974, when The Metropolitan Toronto Zoo opened its doors, I was a proud member of the original staff. The job had actually begun earlier because of visiting dignitaries and the like, but this was the official start date.                              
The uniform requirement was brown shirt and khaki pants...any brown shirt and pants. Fashion gurus would have been appalled. Brown was simply not a colour of choice in 1974, and whenever I asked, sales clerks thumbed their noses at me. So much for shopping at fancy department stores like Biway. 

Tilley Endurables was still six years into Alex Tilley's future...not that I could have afforded it anyhow, and thrift stores sadly, not yet part of my repertoire. Eventually, I somehow assembled an outfit that was passable for about...gulp...$12.

I was already in deficit mode...deduct $ for zoo clothes. Next, there was the transportation. Fortunately, I had been forced to learn to drive when acquiring and accepting my first  job in the village of Uxbridge. The trip to the zoo wasn't far, but nonetheless there was cost involved.  Minimum wage $2.25 ...gas 53 cents..probably per gallon at the time. So the elephant and I were working for peanuts, We both had a goal in mind. We wanted to find somewhere nice and warm to relax. (The elephant found his way to California some 25 years later). I managed eventually to save enough  to get on a cheap flight to the Bahamas with then-hubby.

At this point I'm not certain whether to continue with my zoo adventures or describe our fabulous $99 Night Flight vacation to the Bahamas so I'll give my muddled brain a rest until I can remember where I was going with this story.

Hospital Misadventures

I have been going through a time of considerable fatigue. After  huge amounts of planning for special birthday events, much company, some travel, and six months of hives, I couldn't muster the strength to write even the simplest of blogs.

Finally, things calmed down and I found myself suffering from severe pain on the left side of my body. There is nothing more boring than being awake at all hours of the night and not being able to concentrate on reading, writing, or any other time passing activity. I played Candy Crush and some other mindless games to try to distract myself.

It was a long weekend and I needed to visit the hospital. Immediately, they hooked me up with stickers, wires, and machines before abandoning me in an emergency room. Eventually, I was informed that my heart was fine The doctor examining my level 9 pain diagnosed a pulled muscle. "Take Tylenol", was the suggestion. Only problem was, I had participated in no known activity that would pull a muscle.

Fast forward a few days and nights. The days were bearable, the nights were level 11 pain.  I know, the scale only goes to 10 but this was definitely level 11, allowing  me to sleep about an hour or less per night. Tylenol didn't do much...well, it did something that caused confusion on my next hospital trip.

I hauled myself and my "pulled muscle" back to the hospital. This time, I was x -rayed, had an ultrasound, and was once again hooked up to the heart monitor. The doctor noted a small rash and went on to tell me I was constipated. I was baffled as I sat in agony and was prescribed a laxative.

My daughter (a med student) looked at my rash, followed it around my body and immediately gave me a lecture about derma, nerves, and other complex vocab that |I didn't understand. Then she made
the pronouncement "You probably have shingles. That would explain the pain and the rash."

I had heard about shingles and the associated pain, but on the other hand, I had the vaccine. How could this be?

My appointment with my doctor confirmed the diagnosis. Zostovax is only effective in 80% of the population and I was one of the lucky 20%. I discovered that there's antiviral medication which, if taken immediately at the beginning of symptoms, would shorten the term of the suffering. I was now too late, having been told at the hospital that  I had a pulled muscle and was constipated.

Armed with a prescription for an arsenal of drugs, I left the doctor's office. I am now able to function....not fully, but somewhat. I need to rest...no problem now that I have stronger meds.

So I ask you...how is it that a medical student and a family doctor are more readily able to diagnose something so simple and two doctors at emergency at the hospital could not? Shingles is a common ailment particularly in an area where the population is on the "elderly" side of the spectrum.

I believe I would be very concerned were I in a situation where I had an actual emergency and had to rely on this facility. On the other hand, perhaps they're experts in trauma, wounds, vehiclar accidents, just not common, almost eradicated diseases. Who knows?

Thank You. That's All I Need to Say or Hear.

As I sit here writing a thank you card, I have to wonder how many people actually still do this on a regular basis. This particular card is not for any kind of a celebratory present, although I certainly consider his efforts a gift. It's for someone deserving who has been extremely helpful to me over the past six months, going above and beyond his basic job description. After all, we all like to be recognized and know that we're appreciated don't we?

I'm not saying that people can't forget, or that occasionally, there might be an oversight when it comes to thank you responses. It just doesn't seem the same as it once was.

I recently found notes my children wrote to their grandparents thanking them for a variety of reasons....grandma's delicious capon, a shared experience, a gift. I taught them from young on to be grateful. The number of times they still do this in the form of a card or note is probably much more limited these days. What I do know is that they at least know how to say the words, "Thank you." Whether it's in person, on social media, in an email, or texting, they say, "Thank you."

One thing specificlly that occurred to me is how weddings have changed over the years.  I'm not saying there's anything wrong with how they've changed, they're just different in so many ways.

At one time, people would receive an invitation, respond whether they could attend or not using the little pre-stamped card inside, purchase and wrap a gift, dress up nicely, attend the wedding. The first thing after the bride and groom would do after all the festivities ended, was write a little note of thanks to everyone. Sometimes, it would take up to a month if they waited for a photo or specialty card from the overpriced photographer. I've read in Miss Etiquette that up to a year is even acceptable.

Not so anymore. I speak from experience when I say that this has changed a lot. First, a "save the date" notice arrives. Later, there's an invitation in some form or other. Often there's some kind of online information which gives you details of the wedding, the venue, the ability to respond as to whether you're coming, and what to buy from the happy couple's wish list. There are pages of merchandise, prices, and stores for your online shopping and shipping convenience.  In fact, you can purchase the item, have it sent to them, and never find out if it arrived.

Gone are the days of tirelessly handwriting thank you cards, with or without a photo of the bride and groom. Gone are the days of carefully selecting and wrapping gifts. Gone are the days of acknowledgment as to whether the present has been received. Gone too are the thank yous, either written or verbal.  Not gone however, is the credit card receipt for payment of said gift, which we can only hope got to its intended location.

Time for a Change? Royal Caribbean, Where Art Thou?

There are people who dislike change and who have difficulty accepting change. This characteristic is often assigned to older people or those with specific disabilities eg. autism, anxiety and so on.

I have no problem with change as long as it's for the better. If it's change for the sake of change, I say why? I know, we've all heard "in the olden days...." from our parents, and perhaps these words have even emanated from our mouthes from time to time. The next generation, or perhaps even the one after that (yes...I'm that old), think they've created something new or had a profound idea, when in fact we older folks have seen and heard it all before. We know what has worked in the past and what hasn't. We know why we make certain choices.

There's an expression that goes, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it".

After seeing some of their more recent t.v. commercials, and having cruised on other lines, I wanted to get back to Royal Caribbean International.

I have always raved about this line and have probably gone on at least five cruises with these folks. What was so special? Apart from the fact that I found the ships beautiful and spacious, the staff more than willing to help and accommodate travellers, the food outstanding, it was the added extras.  I loved how there was an air of elegance without pretentiousness. There were active extras such as inline skating, ice skating,mini golf, basketball and rock climbing...interesting to try at age 60, and I did. Everything about this cruise line was relaxing, not frenetic.

There were scrapbooking classes, trivia, cooking, and towel animal making demonstrations. Crown and Anchor members received little bonuses like hats or tote bags and were recognized and welcomed back with a captain's cocktail party. There was constant entertainment and the shows were phenomenal. There was little added cost...only drinks, gratuities, excursions, and of course, shopping down the "Main Street" of the ship, should one opt to do so.

I recently suggested that members of our family (12 in all) go on a cruise with this line. It would be convenient and less time consuming and lower cost for all to meet at Galveston even though the cruise itinerary wasn't great. It would be so much fun getting together with everyone to celebrate several special events. For the most part, it was fun...but it was the people in our group, not the cruise line that made it so. There was so much aggravation and so much time spent at the customer service desk by most of our members, that we are all ready for another vacation.

Without going into detail of our individual serious problems (there will be reviews and letters I assure you), there were other issues. The ship was overcrowded and I couldn't understand how this could be one of my favourite ships, until someone told me (rumour as yet not confirmed by me) that an extra level of cabins had been added to the top of the ship. The fact that there were 800 kids on board, several new sets of water slides and kidzone activities suggested that they were attempting to cater more to families and the younger crowd. I suppose that's not a problem for everyone. For me, it's the reason I stay away from Carnival cruises and now possibly RC if this is the new normal.

There was standing room only in what I remembered as once spacious swimming pools, and almost no place except in ones cabin to get some quiet time. The overcrowded dining rooms now allowed people in shredded  shorts and baseball caps to dine beside cruisers who opted for the suggested formal wear on specific nights.Why have a formal night at all? Scrapbooking classes still exist but now require payment. There were towel folding lessons if you wanted to watch them on tv...no personal attention at all. Several restaurants had added cost so why bother to go there? In fact, almost everything required added payment. If you wanted a kitchen tour,  the galley on the ship, it cost $30. The shows were free but mediocre...except for the phenomenal ice skating show (still free at this point). Crown and Anchor members were supposed to get a book of coupons but instead were handed a sheet of paper with a few perks listed. The problem was, staff had no idea about these perks when I tried to claim them.

Where was the ice sculpture carving demonstration? Where were the  fruit carvings and flower arrangements. Where was the the lovely art and the scultpures that graced all the other RC ships I've been on. Instead, there was a giant red plaster dog on one of the levels.

I can only liken this cruise to a 2 star all inclusive resort someplace. Even at that, it would be cheaper at a resort since it would be "all inclusive".

So, what will I do after my letter and review writing campaign? Well, for one thing my next cruise is on Holland America. The most exciting thing I'm likely to experience on that ship is a lecture on the depth of the ocean, but at least there'll be space, air, met expectations, respect,  and consistency.

Goodbye Garb and Magnificent Memories

I recently lost a few pounds. It was about time. As with all weight loss, both the skin and the clothes got loose. Ok...so both got loose and wrinkly. I've retired some pairs of pants after friends said I looked as though I had droopy drawers...not a good look on a senior. People might get the wrong impression. We elders have enough embarrassing issues.

I don't think I'm a very vain person. I also don't think that I'm terribly materialistic, but then everything's relative isn't it?

When it comes to clothing, I have a decent wardrobe. I like clothes. There was a time I barely had two outfits to wear to work (insert tiny violin playing here). There was also a time when I wore clothes out. That is now beyond the realm of my comprehension, but then, vinyl, barkcloth, terylene, crimplene were all the rage. Who ever thought those were a good idea and did they actually wear out or just disappear as some fads and fabrics should?

Now, rather than wear clothes out,  I eventually get tired of seeing the same outfits. It's like looking in the mirror every day and seeing the same old thing, but at least with clothing, we have a choice. We can get rid of the 80% we don't wear and the 20% we wear far too often. (a statistic I recently heard)

So it has been necessary to downsize my clothing along with my girth. I spent a few days test driving a lot of pieces to see what fit, what was still borderline, and what was unacceptable. I found a lot to give away. I also found some items that still work plus a few from a previous diet, an earlier size, and so on. Then there were a few....just a few that I know are too large, but went back into my dresser drawer. It made no sense, but there they are.

I think that most people who hoard "stuff" which they consider treasures do so because of the memories they stir up. The clothes that went back into my drawer had memories, fond memories. As I put each thing back, I had flashbacks of friends I was with, events I celebrated, and trips I went on while wearing the piece. I was not yet ready to say goodbye to everything.

There's a quote by Rachael Taylor that goes like this. "For me, clothing is nothing without the story behind it. Everything I own evokes some kind of memory."

Whereas Petticoat Lane and Diabetes Society have been the beneficiaries of much, my dresser drawer still contains a few....a few good memories of times gone by.

Let There Be Blogs

I know, I know. There's been a blog drought yet again. On the other hand, those who know me well, also know why. For the past six months, I have been working on a few major projects. By major, I mean so large that no one human being my age should be attempting this. In fact, no human being half my age should attempt same.

People have said things like "I don't know how you do it all."

Ok, maybe I've just heard me saying that very loudly to myself. Although in fairness, people used to say that to me when I was younger and accomplished three times my current range of activities while working and raising a family.

Anyhow, for someone who was going to retire, read, write, paint, and travel...well. There's been evidence of a few of those activities but not to the extent that I had once imagined. Sometimes, in life we take detours. We make choices. Sometimes, we garden when we don't enjoy gardening. We cook when we thought we'd given it up. We do housework when we have no further need to waste our remaining time on earth on such trivial activities. We plan parties and celebrations when we need to honour one of the important people in our lives, despite our age and energy level.

On May 22, 2011, the occasion of hubby's 75th birthday, I wrote about "Papa's Progressive Parties".
http://rockinrobinsramblings.blogspot.ca/2011/05/papas-progressive-parties.html
He likes parties. He likes celebrations. He likes receiving attention. He likes cake. He likes presents. He admits it and does not pretend otherwise or try to demonstrate false modesty. I admire that.

Everyone knows that when one turns 80, it's even more special. What a milestone! And...if one turns 80 and around the same time celebrates the 50th anniversary of a very special career choice, well, there's a bit of wifely pressure to perform a few miracles of her own.

Before Christmas, the planning, organizing, and scheming began. What would be the best weekend to combine two celebrations, for maximum impact and attendance? Mother's Day, the date closest to his birthday would not be a good weekend choice. Victoria Day, not good either but the weekend in between seemed ideal. May 14/15, 2016 it would be.

This year in May, we marked another month of celebrations. The eventual upcoming blogs this time shall be entitled, "Adam's Awesome Adventures".

What I Learned from the Computer Today

It's amazing isn't it? Computers and all things technological have become such a part of our lives, we can't imagine living without them. Not a day goes by where I don't learn something new, whether by accident or by choice.

Often, I'll be researching, writing, or reading something, and quickly "google" information that has come from that. It's a phenomenal way to extend knowledge. I suppose, sometimes, it can also be troublesome . Computers are a way to connect with people that we may or may not know...through common experiences or troubles. Computers can make us feel that we're not alone, or conversely, as if we're totally alone.

I rarely forward email jokes, verses, memes, posters, and the like. I don't like to clutter peoples' mailboxes with such silly stuff. On the other hand, every once in awhile, there's something that speaks to me or that I find fascinating. The following is such a thing, so I'll share, just this once. I'm not certain of its origin although I did see one place where it says it's from missmentelle. Even if you don't know all the people listed (and I don't), the point is clear and the content of some value. I have a few of my own which I'll add after the finish. The ending is a bit trite, but nonetheless....here goes.

At age 23, Tina Fey was working at a YMCA.

At age 23, Oprah was fired from her first reporting job.

At age 24, Stephen King was working as a janitor and living in a trailer. 

At age 27, Vincent Van Gogh failed as a missionary and decided to go to art school.

At age 28, J.K. Rowling was a suicidal single parent living on welfare.

At age 30, Harrison Ford was a carpenter.

At age 30, Martha Stewart was a stockbroker.

At age 37, Ang Lee was a stay-at-home-dad working odd jobs.

Julia Child released her first cookbook at age 39, and got her own cooking show at age 51.

Vera Wang failed to make the Olympic figure skating team, didn’t get the Editor-in-Chief 
position at Vogue, and designed her first dress at age 40.

Stan Lee didn’t release his first big comic book until he was 40.

Alan Rickman gave up his graphic design career to pursue acting at age 42.

Samuel L. Jackson didn’t get his first movie role until he was 46. 

Morgan Freeman landed his first movie role at age 52.

Kathryn Bigelow only reached international success when she made The Hurt Locker at age 57.

Grandma Moses didn’t begin her painting career until age 76.

Louise Bourgeois didn’t become a famous artist until she was 78.

Whatever your dream is, it is not too late to achieve it. You aren’t a failure because you haven’t found fame and fortune by the age of 21. Hell, it’s okay if you don’t even know what your dream is yet. Even if you’re flipping burgers, waiting tables or answering phones today, you never know where you’ll end up tomorrow.

Never tell yourself you’re too old to make it. 

Never tell yourself you missed your chance. 

Never tell yourself that you aren’t good enough. 

You can do it. Whatever it is. 

Although I'm certain there are many more, I would add people such as ....

Amazon founder Jeff Bezos who was flipping burgers at McDonalds in his 20's.

Mark Cuban, businessman and entrepreneur was a bartender living with six roomates.

Ralph Lauren was a sales assistant.

Tim Allen was arrested and spent two years in prison.

Howard Schultz ,Starbucks CEO, was a Xerox salesman.