How to Read Literature Like a Professor is described as a 'lively and entertaining' look at the world of literature. Required summer reading for a grand daughter I sometimes go through her 'must reads' along with her and then have a 'lively and entertaining' discussion about what we have read. The author is so excited about world literature and very well-read. We all know, for example, that the original tale for the modern musical West Side Story is stolen, excuse me 'borrowed', from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. It seems that not much is new under the sun. Would I recommend it? Only if you are a high school senior, a lit major at university or a very supportive grand mother. I would tell you the author but I forget...and you are not going to read it anyway now, are you?
The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother by James McBride is a lovely memoir encouraging us to listen to the story of our elders, even if we have to pry it out of them and even if it turns out to be dark and unpleasant.
Loving Frank by Nancy Horton centers on the life of Frank Lloyd Wright and his long-time affair with Mamah Cheney. The story is tragic on so many levels. It is well-written; Horton's first published novel.
Remember the chain mail letters of the 50s? I received an update on that idea when a friend sent one recently concerning a book exchange. There was a name and address on the back of the letter. The sender (not the one on the back of the letter) enclosed six of her own address labels for me to affix to six new copies of the letter. I was to send a pre-read paper-back book to the name on the back of my letter, copy the letter six times and affix one of the sender's address labels to the back of each and mail them off to six friends along with six of my own address labels (36 labels in all). My friends, all six of them, would then copy the letter, put one of my address labels on the back of each, enclose six of their own labels and send the letters off to six of their friends. Each of my six would also send one book to the person listed on the back of the letter I sent. Ideally one would receive 36 books in a matter of weeks.
Having difficulty following the above paragraph?
If you answered yes, then you are probably of the male gender. I tried to explain the process to my husband and he finally turned to me and said, "Honey, all I'm hearing is 'blah, blah, blah, blah, blah'."
And that's what I'm thinking about.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Why are people like that?
The county fair was last week. My grand daughter (T) parked cars at the fairgrounds several days as a fund-raiser for the high school soccer team.
If you want to see the real character of people revealed, park cars at a fair.
Drivers swerved around T as she put up her hand for them to stop as they raced to park in isles and double- and triple-parked with no regard for those they were hemming in.
A woman who was having an argument with her husband about where to park, decided that T was wrong about all the spots being taken and, rolling up her car window and shutting out any further instruction from the parking lot guide, ordered her husband to forge ahead, creating a bottle-neck when they were forced to back up to get out of the lot.
This bottle-neck produced at least one irate fair-goer who told T that she was doing a terrible job of parking cars.
But taking the cake for questionable behavior was the woman who drove up in her huge SUV and wanted to park in a very close lot. T told her that the lot to which she referred was designated handicapped parking only. The woman said she would park there. T mentioned that she didn't have a handicapped sticker showing on her car. She hotly replied, "I'm not handicapped, I'm tired, and I'm not going to walk any further." Whipping around T she pulled into the handicapped lot.
Once there was a show on TV, may still be, titled Men Behaving Badly.
Most of the folks mentioned here were women. Is this what equal rights has come down to?
That's what I'm thinking about.
If you want to see the real character of people revealed, park cars at a fair.
Drivers swerved around T as she put up her hand for them to stop as they raced to park in isles and double- and triple-parked with no regard for those they were hemming in.
A woman who was having an argument with her husband about where to park, decided that T was wrong about all the spots being taken and, rolling up her car window and shutting out any further instruction from the parking lot guide, ordered her husband to forge ahead, creating a bottle-neck when they were forced to back up to get out of the lot.
This bottle-neck produced at least one irate fair-goer who told T that she was doing a terrible job of parking cars.
But taking the cake for questionable behavior was the woman who drove up in her huge SUV and wanted to park in a very close lot. T told her that the lot to which she referred was designated handicapped parking only. The woman said she would park there. T mentioned that she didn't have a handicapped sticker showing on her car. She hotly replied, "I'm not handicapped, I'm tired, and I'm not going to walk any further." Whipping around T she pulled into the handicapped lot.
Once there was a show on TV, may still be, titled Men Behaving Badly.
Most of the folks mentioned here were women. Is this what equal rights has come down to?
That's what I'm thinking about.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Snapping turtles
Our local paper ran a little article this week about a man with the amazing ability to hypnotize snapping turtles.
He would lay the turtle on its back and slowly rub its tummy and after a while lick the turtle's eyelids over and over. The turtle would be mesmerized and fall into a deep trance. This had worked many times for him much to the delight of his friends who were always asking him to perform this trick at cook-outs and parties .
Predictably then, he got hold of the one snapping turtle who had not read the accounts of the man's talent or did not appreciate it or at least did not succumb. When that tongue headed toward his eyelids the turtle snapped out, took hold and hung on clamping down in a vice. The assembled crowd was both disgusted and enthralled. The man's brother pried the little jaws apart with a stick and then, blood spewing and gushing everywhere, drove his brother to the hospital. They were able to stitch up what was left of his tongue.
The turtle crawled away with a nice little snack.
The man talked funny for ever after.
He would lay the turtle on its back and slowly rub its tummy and after a while lick the turtle's eyelids over and over. The turtle would be mesmerized and fall into a deep trance. This had worked many times for him much to the delight of his friends who were always asking him to perform this trick at cook-outs and parties .
Predictably then, he got hold of the one snapping turtle who had not read the accounts of the man's talent or did not appreciate it or at least did not succumb. When that tongue headed toward his eyelids the turtle snapped out, took hold and hung on clamping down in a vice. The assembled crowd was both disgusted and enthralled. The man's brother pried the little jaws apart with a stick and then, blood spewing and gushing everywhere, drove his brother to the hospital. They were able to stitch up what was left of his tongue.
The turtle crawled away with a nice little snack.
The man talked funny for ever after.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Bella
One baby abandoned by a too young, too poor, too something mother....
The same baby scooped into the loving arms of a remarkable couple who have waited long enough to become parents.
So I went shopping yesterday, one of the few times I get into a baby section of a store anymore now that my youngest grandchildren are 15. How cute these little clothes are. Isabella only weighs five pounds so she will swim in the cute little lilac church dress I found.
This morning our Wednesday breakfast group had a shower for Isabella. The parents were not there but the grandmother was, and two aunts. Grandma opened the gifts and we oohed and aahed over the little socks and onesies and dresses. She will re-wrap the gifts so the mom and dad can re-open them later.
I helped with an adoption in Ohio once and thought to myself then when I saw a six-year-old who had been through too many foster homes find a couple who had been through too many adoption agencies find each other, "This child has hit the jackpot." I am thinking the same thing now.
Isabella has hit the jackpot.
She will have a ready made crowd of family and cousins, one born within weeks of her own birth. They will grow up in Haiti with loving uncles and aunts and grandparents who just do not come any finer. She'll have educational opportunities and a faith-based life.
God is so good.
The same baby scooped into the loving arms of a remarkable couple who have waited long enough to become parents.
So I went shopping yesterday, one of the few times I get into a baby section of a store anymore now that my youngest grandchildren are 15. How cute these little clothes are. Isabella only weighs five pounds so she will swim in the cute little lilac church dress I found.
This morning our Wednesday breakfast group had a shower for Isabella. The parents were not there but the grandmother was, and two aunts. Grandma opened the gifts and we oohed and aahed over the little socks and onesies and dresses. She will re-wrap the gifts so the mom and dad can re-open them later.
I helped with an adoption in Ohio once and thought to myself then when I saw a six-year-old who had been through too many foster homes find a couple who had been through too many adoption agencies find each other, "This child has hit the jackpot." I am thinking the same thing now.
Isabella has hit the jackpot.
She will have a ready made crowd of family and cousins, one born within weeks of her own birth. They will grow up in Haiti with loving uncles and aunts and grandparents who just do not come any finer. She'll have educational opportunities and a faith-based life.
God is so good.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Speedy Greek Week
I have wondered, not often but once in a great while, like twice in my life, once at the age of 20 and another time at about 32, what is the exact meaning of "Greek Week" or "Rush" at universities within the Greek system. I thought I had it figured out but I was wrong.
Now I know.
It denotes that period of time, drastically condensed, when on-line summer Greek students rush through their last few weeks of class in order to have a life before Fall.
How do I know this?
Last week I zipped through weeks 9 and 10 of my on-line summer Greek course. In front of me right now are weeks 11, 12 and 13. Neatly stacked and waiting for me to jump in are the lecture CDs, the PowerPoint presentations and various other class handouts for the weeks.
If the temperatures stay in the 90s and I am forced to stay indoors during the afternoons, instead of taking a little nap (which really I find hard to do although my husband can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and in 20 minutes wake up refreshed. One time he was caught napping during a very boring union negotiation meeting. But he claimed he heard every dull and angry word and only his eyes were not in use. Not me.....but I digress) I should be able to finish up the class by, say, Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.
Keeping you posted on this progress may be the only thing that might delay my finishing by the set goal. Thinking of you out there reading this stuff is much more fun and entertaining.
That's what I think about it.
Now I know.
It denotes that period of time, drastically condensed, when on-line summer Greek students rush through their last few weeks of class in order to have a life before Fall.
How do I know this?
Last week I zipped through weeks 9 and 10 of my on-line summer Greek course. In front of me right now are weeks 11, 12 and 13. Neatly stacked and waiting for me to jump in are the lecture CDs, the PowerPoint presentations and various other class handouts for the weeks.
If the temperatures stay in the 90s and I am forced to stay indoors during the afternoons, instead of taking a little nap (which really I find hard to do although my husband can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and in 20 minutes wake up refreshed. One time he was caught napping during a very boring union negotiation meeting. But he claimed he heard every dull and angry word and only his eyes were not in use. Not me.....but I digress) I should be able to finish up the class by, say, Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.
Keeping you posted on this progress may be the only thing that might delay my finishing by the set goal. Thinking of you out there reading this stuff is much more fun and entertaining.
That's what I think about it.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Arts and Life
Not thinking about much today.
Arts Smarts Camp ends today. A week where kids pick out three (from 30) hands-on classes to take. Offered are such crafts as : carpentry, cooking, cake decorating, crocheting, knitting, duct tape art, mosaic, drums, keyboard, bass, signing, singing, writing, theater production, movie making or the class I am helping with....3-D Art Spree, a montage of messy art for the elementary grades.
The kids are very diverse. Some will take a lump of clay and work it and knead it and turn it over and over in their hands waiting for the inspiration of what this lump of clay can become. Others, most often boys, will start right in, tearing off little pieces, rolling out snakes, lumping it all back together to start rolling all over again...for 50 minutes. Their hands are black, also their tee shirts, the floor is dotted with little droppings of clay. They are having such a good time. Mostly they do not have a project to show mom and dad that might justify the camp fee, but they sure are having fun.
On another day when kids see the flour, sugar and water paste that they will need to get their hands into in order to create fabric macrame some, mostly girls this time, are likely to give you an "Ugh!" or "Ewww!" while the boys are happily playing pat-a-cake with paste-covered hands.
Adults are very diverse also. Some enjoy things, like their lives, neat and tidy. Others love the mess that comes from change and not knowing and guessing about what their day may bring. The former walk around with PDAs. The latter sit around waiting for someone to join them in an adventure. Sometimes I am one; other times the other. No, sadly I think my family would disagree. Regardless of what I like to believe, I so yearn to have a neat orderly life. But since it isn't always that way, I believe am learning to embrace the adventure of the mess.
That's what I'm thinking about.
Arts Smarts Camp ends today. A week where kids pick out three (from 30) hands-on classes to take. Offered are such crafts as : carpentry, cooking, cake decorating, crocheting, knitting, duct tape art, mosaic, drums, keyboard, bass, signing, singing, writing, theater production, movie making or the class I am helping with....3-D Art Spree, a montage of messy art for the elementary grades.
The kids are very diverse. Some will take a lump of clay and work it and knead it and turn it over and over in their hands waiting for the inspiration of what this lump of clay can become. Others, most often boys, will start right in, tearing off little pieces, rolling out snakes, lumping it all back together to start rolling all over again...for 50 minutes. Their hands are black, also their tee shirts, the floor is dotted with little droppings of clay. They are having such a good time. Mostly they do not have a project to show mom and dad that might justify the camp fee, but they sure are having fun.
On another day when kids see the flour, sugar and water paste that they will need to get their hands into in order to create fabric macrame some, mostly girls this time, are likely to give you an "Ugh!" or "Ewww!" while the boys are happily playing pat-a-cake with paste-covered hands.
Adults are very diverse also. Some enjoy things, like their lives, neat and tidy. Others love the mess that comes from change and not knowing and guessing about what their day may bring. The former walk around with PDAs. The latter sit around waiting for someone to join them in an adventure. Sometimes I am one; other times the other. No, sadly I think my family would disagree. Regardless of what I like to believe, I so yearn to have a neat orderly life. But since it isn't always that way, I believe am learning to embrace the adventure of the mess.
That's what I'm thinking about.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Life in Rural Indiana
Ran into a friend this morning. "Guess where I went last night?" she queried. Knowing I would never come up with the correct answer she went on, "To the fair grounds to watch pig wrestling."
I looked at her, but well, there's just no proper response to that.
She had been begged by another friend to go watch the friend's grand daughter wrestle a pig. Apparently this is a big To-D0 at the 4-H center.
Four people, in this case, four adult women, all of whom work together in a down town office, were in a pen about ten feet across. In the middle of the dirt ring was some sort of pedestal with a bucket of water on it. The idea is for the four contestants to pick up the pig and place him, or her, on the pedestal anyway they can.
They have a minute and a half. Many minute and a half matches went on for two and a half hours before the grand daughter took to the ring.
And oh, for adults they don't use those cute little pink piglet-sized animals. The adults wrestle full size hogs, three hundred pounds or so.
As my mind tried to get an image of how this activity might play itself out I could not help but wonder again at the cultural differences between where I am and where I was.
That's what I'm thinking about today.
I looked at her, but well, there's just no proper response to that.
She had been begged by another friend to go watch the friend's grand daughter wrestle a pig. Apparently this is a big To-D0 at the 4-H center.
Four people, in this case, four adult women, all of whom work together in a down town office, were in a pen about ten feet across. In the middle of the dirt ring was some sort of pedestal with a bucket of water on it. The idea is for the four contestants to pick up the pig and place him, or her, on the pedestal anyway they can.
They have a minute and a half. Many minute and a half matches went on for two and a half hours before the grand daughter took to the ring.
And oh, for adults they don't use those cute little pink piglet-sized animals. The adults wrestle full size hogs, three hundred pounds or so.
As my mind tried to get an image of how this activity might play itself out I could not help but wonder again at the cultural differences between where I am and where I was.
That's what I'm thinking about today.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Friends
Our current weekend sermon series on Friendship set me to remembering friends I've known over the years.
In elementary school Judy was my BFF (best friend forever). She and I walked home from school nearly every day. Since she lived closer to the school than I did we arrived at her house first. We would hang out and talk. She told me things about the workings of the human body that I knew could not possibly be true they were so far-fetched and bizarre. A few years later, I found out she knew what she was talking about.
In high school Mary Jane and I hung out. She was the only person I knew whose parents had gotten divorced. She lived with her mother and older sister, a college student. It seemed very strange to talk to her about her mother's boyfriends and hear her mother ask what she should wear out on a date.
In college my new friend Jane called me "Will" a shortened version of my maiden name. From Louisville, we would take off after classes on Friday, or before classes sometime, and drive to her home in a beat-up VW beetle. At some intersections when the engine would die, I would jump out and unstick the butterfly valve to get the thing going again. Her mother and dad were loving and welcoming. Jane eventually was asked to leave the college. I won't go into the reasons.
A current friend was telling me about friends she hangs out with that she has known since elementary school. They continue to meet and be involved with one anothers' lives. I can't imagine knowing anyone that long. I don't see my own sisters often enough to really say they are friends. The two of them have put up with me for decades. I appreciate it but we don't share little secrets like real friends. And they live states away.
Then there are Jill and Linda, and Amanda my navy commander friend. We have shared such great times. Trips to China, Australia, Greece, Ireland, Turkey and a wild rapid ride down the Niagara River (you can guess with which friend). But each of them lives states away.
We have lived here only five years so I am blessed to have some five-year friendships but they seem so new and untested in many ways. It takes years to get into someone else's life.
I do have a 30-year friendship but she lives in Tennessee. However, if I needed something or someone I'd call Debi. Like the Carole King song, "You just call on my name and you know where ever I am, I'll come running to see you again. Winter Spring Summer or Fall, all you have to do is call and I'll be there. You've got a friend."
That's what I'm thinking about today.
In elementary school Judy was my BFF (best friend forever). She and I walked home from school nearly every day. Since she lived closer to the school than I did we arrived at her house first. We would hang out and talk. She told me things about the workings of the human body that I knew could not possibly be true they were so far-fetched and bizarre. A few years later, I found out she knew what she was talking about.
In high school Mary Jane and I hung out. She was the only person I knew whose parents had gotten divorced. She lived with her mother and older sister, a college student. It seemed very strange to talk to her about her mother's boyfriends and hear her mother ask what she should wear out on a date.
In college my new friend Jane called me "Will" a shortened version of my maiden name. From Louisville, we would take off after classes on Friday, or before classes sometime, and drive to her home in a beat-up VW beetle. At some intersections when the engine would die, I would jump out and unstick the butterfly valve to get the thing going again. Her mother and dad were loving and welcoming. Jane eventually was asked to leave the college. I won't go into the reasons.
A current friend was telling me about friends she hangs out with that she has known since elementary school. They continue to meet and be involved with one anothers' lives. I can't imagine knowing anyone that long. I don't see my own sisters often enough to really say they are friends. The two of them have put up with me for decades. I appreciate it but we don't share little secrets like real friends. And they live states away.
Then there are Jill and Linda, and Amanda my navy commander friend. We have shared such great times. Trips to China, Australia, Greece, Ireland, Turkey and a wild rapid ride down the Niagara River (you can guess with which friend). But each of them lives states away.
We have lived here only five years so I am blessed to have some five-year friendships but they seem so new and untested in many ways. It takes years to get into someone else's life.
I do have a 30-year friendship but she lives in Tennessee. However, if I needed something or someone I'd call Debi. Like the Carole King song, "You just call on my name and you know where ever I am, I'll come running to see you again. Winter Spring Summer or Fall, all you have to do is call and I'll be there. You've got a friend."
That's what I'm thinking about today.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Sad News
I just received an email from my sister in California that my brother-in-law, whom I adore, has Alzheimer's. His doctor informed the Department of Motor Vehicles and they have asked my brother-in-law to come in for a driver's test.
When I was growing up Buck, my brother-in-law, was working for a defense company on some technical part of the Snark missile nose cone. I have always thought him to be one of the brightest people I've ever met. To hear that this brilliant mind is being reduced and eroded hurts.
Buck was born in a hovel along a creek bed in rural Oklahoma. He described it to me once as a dug out place along the river bank. Carter, Oklahoma. It does not make most maps. Jim and I drove around Carter, or what was left of it, one day a couple years ago. Found the elementary school; found the creek. Shook our heads at the poverty and decay that exists there even today and tried to imagine what growing up in this town without parents would be like.
It is to his credit and grit that he moved to California and finished college and became successful. An avid photographer, he built a dark room complete with rotating door in a my sister's dream home on top of a mountain in northern California.
Know what I am thinking about? I'm thinking about my few years of living in Los Angeles. I'm thinking about the erratic, maniacal drivers on the freeway and their hand gestures, speed, their darting in and out of traffic. And I am stunned to read that California has a Deparment of Motor Vehicles.
When I was growing up Buck, my brother-in-law, was working for a defense company on some technical part of the Snark missile nose cone. I have always thought him to be one of the brightest people I've ever met. To hear that this brilliant mind is being reduced and eroded hurts.
Buck was born in a hovel along a creek bed in rural Oklahoma. He described it to me once as a dug out place along the river bank. Carter, Oklahoma. It does not make most maps. Jim and I drove around Carter, or what was left of it, one day a couple years ago. Found the elementary school; found the creek. Shook our heads at the poverty and decay that exists there even today and tried to imagine what growing up in this town without parents would be like.
It is to his credit and grit that he moved to California and finished college and became successful. An avid photographer, he built a dark room complete with rotating door in a my sister's dream home on top of a mountain in northern California.
Know what I am thinking about? I'm thinking about my few years of living in Los Angeles. I'm thinking about the erratic, maniacal drivers on the freeway and their hand gestures, speed, their darting in and out of traffic. And I am stunned to read that California has a Deparment of Motor Vehicles.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Recent Reads
Flies on the Butter by Denise Hildreth and The Shack by William P. Young are both good reads about forgiveness. If you consider yourself a conservative or fundamental Christian, forget about reading The Shack. Yesterday I read a 17-page debate about the book on the web. There was a lot of name calling.
Children of Jihad by Jared Cohen is about 'a young American's travels among the youth of the Middle East.' Jared is naive. Example, he tells a group of Hezbollah youth that he is an American Jew. Another time he falls asleep in a taxi and ends up in Mosul, Iraq. Yet his travels give us first-hand insight into the beliefs and behaviors of young people in Iran, Iraq, Lebanon and Syria.
Right now I'm reading Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Iraq's Green Zone by Rajiv Chandrasekaran. Can't recommend it but I'm reading it. It may speak of more truth than I'm willing to accept.
Children of Jihad by Jared Cohen is about 'a young American's travels among the youth of the Middle East.' Jared is naive. Example, he tells a group of Hezbollah youth that he is an American Jew. Another time he falls asleep in a taxi and ends up in Mosul, Iraq. Yet his travels give us first-hand insight into the beliefs and behaviors of young people in Iran, Iraq, Lebanon and Syria.
Right now I'm reading Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Iraq's Green Zone by Rajiv Chandrasekaran. Can't recommend it but I'm reading it. It may speak of more truth than I'm willing to accept.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Really Random Tuesday
1. Did you ever wonder how bath towels ever get dirty?
2. The rabbits out the front window are getting plump while the Hostas out in the back garden are looking sickly. Do you think there is a connection between the two?
3. Yes, some of you asked. The paper I was writing about last week, and putting off and putting off, was finally finished and submitted.
4. I friend of ours is right now at this moment in an oncologist's office learning the prognosis for her cancer. Her husband is with her and we are supporting them from afar.
5. Three grand children are this week down in Louisiana, helping with hurricane Katrina relief. Last year one learned dry-walling. I hope this year someone learns some plumbing.
6. I think about the thousands of abandoned babies in Ukraine and wonder why a lovely couple we know has to wade through mounds of red tape to adopt an orphan from Russia.
7. I think about a friend who was promoted to Commander in the navy this July 4 and know that the military is in good shape if they continue to recruit and promote such women.
8. I think about a CHINS (child in need of services) victim in this country and pray that she/he/they will be safe until I finish my CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) training and have them assigned to me.
9. My two daughters celebrated their birthdays recently. I am thinking how very blessed I am to live near them and to be a part of their lives (sometimes whether they want me to be or not - just kidding). Estrangements are so sad, even when necessary for survival. Family is the core that keeps life together while we walk this earth.
10. I think about my next week of Greek and know that I better put it on the top of my to-do list or I'll be whining about it to you in a blog or two.
Have a grand day. This is the stuff I'm thinking about today.
2. The rabbits out the front window are getting plump while the Hostas out in the back garden are looking sickly. Do you think there is a connection between the two?
3. Yes, some of you asked. The paper I was writing about last week, and putting off and putting off, was finally finished and submitted.
4. I friend of ours is right now at this moment in an oncologist's office learning the prognosis for her cancer. Her husband is with her and we are supporting them from afar.
5. Three grand children are this week down in Louisiana, helping with hurricane Katrina relief. Last year one learned dry-walling. I hope this year someone learns some plumbing.
6. I think about the thousands of abandoned babies in Ukraine and wonder why a lovely couple we know has to wade through mounds of red tape to adopt an orphan from Russia.
7. I think about a friend who was promoted to Commander in the navy this July 4 and know that the military is in good shape if they continue to recruit and promote such women.
8. I think about a CHINS (child in need of services) victim in this country and pray that she/he/they will be safe until I finish my CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) training and have them assigned to me.
9. My two daughters celebrated their birthdays recently. I am thinking how very blessed I am to live near them and to be a part of their lives (sometimes whether they want me to be or not - just kidding). Estrangements are so sad, even when necessary for survival. Family is the core that keeps life together while we walk this earth.
10. I think about my next week of Greek and know that I better put it on the top of my to-do list or I'll be whining about it to you in a blog or two.
Have a grand day. This is the stuff I'm thinking about today.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Wimp!
So we had just gotten to Cincinnati. Circled the hotel twice not sure about the one-way streets. Saw a big sign that said Hilton Valet. It was right outside a narrow down ramp. It was right outside a little glass door that said Hilton. It didn't look right to my husband. He pulled over to the curb. He said, "that does not look right." And so, with a cell phone in his pocket and the hotel phone number handy, and with men inside the little glass door, (I thought dressed like valets) my husband.....drum roll.....pulled away from the curb again out into the world of one-way streets in downtown Cincinnati.
I said, perhaps a little shrilly, "Where are you going?"
Yes, thinking back, very shrilly.
A couple of octaves above my normal voice range.
"It didn't look right," he offered.
But I couldn't quit! "The sign said "Valet." The glass doors said "Hilton." "You were parked by the curb." "Why didn't you call for directions from the curb outside the ramp that pointed down to Hilton valet?"
We drove around a couple more one-way streets...in silence. I grabbed my phone, called the number, took a deep breath, lowered my voice and asked the customer service representative who answered the phone, "Could you give me good directions to valet parking,...please?"
Well, of course, you know, it was right where we were.
It does remind me that men, being hunters from the very early cave man times, still have that hunt gene. It must seem like cheating in their minds to call and ask for directions. "Not fair. You asked," they will say to each other. "Wimp!" It is in the hunt for something, from valet parking, to a gas station, to their shoes or pizza in plain sight in the freezer. Asking takes away their manhood.
Aren't they cute?
That's what I'm thinking about today. Oh, and Happy Birthday America."
I said, perhaps a little shrilly, "Where are you going?"
Yes, thinking back, very shrilly.
A couple of octaves above my normal voice range.
"It didn't look right," he offered.
But I couldn't quit! "The sign said "Valet." The glass doors said "Hilton." "You were parked by the curb." "Why didn't you call for directions from the curb outside the ramp that pointed down to Hilton valet?"
We drove around a couple more one-way streets...in silence. I grabbed my phone, called the number, took a deep breath, lowered my voice and asked the customer service representative who answered the phone, "Could you give me good directions to valet parking,...please?"
Well, of course, you know, it was right where we were.
It does remind me that men, being hunters from the very early cave man times, still have that hunt gene. It must seem like cheating in their minds to call and ask for directions. "Not fair. You asked," they will say to each other. "Wimp!" It is in the hunt for something, from valet parking, to a gas station, to their shoes or pizza in plain sight in the freezer. Asking takes away their manhood.
Aren't they cute?
That's what I'm thinking about today. Oh, and Happy Birthday America."
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