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 My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| I am in the library again, until I find a new ISP for my area that I can afford. We don't have fiber optics yet, and the one I've had cut me off when I had the land line removed. It was terrible service anyway> I can accomplish in less than 2 hour what it used to take 4 or 5 hours to do with all the crashing and outages. I can tolerate the noise of children. The library is a great place for them. My mother used to walk us to the library when we were young, and it was a thrill to get new books. I don't like the adults who carry on conversations at full volume. There is a lady behind me who even has her phone on speaker. She's broadcasting her phone numbers and passwords loudly to everyone in the big room. She has no idea how disruptive she is or that her privacy is gone. A librarian is helping her, in a softer but audible voice. Whatever happened to whispering? We used to be afraid to talk out loud, much less give personal info. My college library, full of young people, was never this noisy. We never had to listen to anyone's financial transactions with her banker. Oh no! I heard her say "Calling you back. . ." Hopefully, I won't be here. She did tell the banker that she was old enough to be the grandmother of the person helping her. Maybe they're excusing her because of age. But rude is rude. And only scammers want your personal data. Now, someone is playing music! Ssh! |
| I had the worst in-laws imaginable. However, I have known a few people who spoke warmly of their in-laws and loved them dearly. My own grandmother hated her mother-in-law because of her sharp tongue. It turns out my grandmother wasn't a very good mother-in-law to my mother either. My dad loved his mother-in-law, and I think she loved hers, at least during my lifetime. We know Ruth as the most famous daughter-in-law, so her husband's mother Naomi must have been an ideal in-law. "Wither thou goest. . ." is used in so many contexts. I saw an episode of the Big Valley where Linda Evans as Audra quoted those words to her mother played by Barbara Stanwyck. I've also heard wives say it to husbands. I'm watching The Honeymooners this summer, one of those old shows that's not run ad nauseam. There was a mother-in-law episode that after much vitriol and humor turned out to be tender and endearing to the wife's mother. It's a hard job to deal with the younger generation. You see them making mistakes, many of which you also made. You want to give advice, but have to bite your tongue. You can't be a helicopter parent when they're young or when they're grown. You give advice when they ask for it, or maybe hint for it. You have to watch them live their own lives no matter how much it hurts you. My in-laws loved drama. They weren't even kind to one another, let alone a newcomer. The bottom line is I just never liked them. |
| I'd like to know more about this topic. It seems that a lot of fans want to write their own stories for old TV series, like Kramer in Seinfeld wanted to write an episode for Murphy Brown. Those shows get the imagination going, and many of us believe we can write better episodes or at least get them going again. I read that Gary Clark, an actor in westerns in the 60's and 70's, wrote for Get Smart. He created the character of Hermie the Robot. Ten years after the show ended, they wanted to do a spin-off using Hermie. But the copyright owners couldn't be found. Producers and directors agreed with the writing crew and lawyers that using Clark's idea would probably create a legal battle eventually, so the project was abandoned. However, they remake movies frequently and make many changes. Hogan's Heroes was almost straight out of a movie, but that legal battle went no where. And someone did write a sequel to Gone With The Wind after Margaret Mitchell's death. I have several episodes in my head, or a series of episodes. But why do it if I'm breaking some legal or moral code? Of course, I would apply today's standards to those old stories, just like the people of "the old days" applied the standards of their day on the 1800's and early 1900's. I seriously doubt women wore high heels with pointy toes, even in saloons, like the show I saw last night. Today you don't show family men and women smoking. And men can't be so chauvinistic. And no one can be racist. I also realize that some of my changes would make the shows a little less humorous. Do we really want to watch TV or read stories about everyday normal people? |
| Funny how I can think of a million things I want to write about when I'm nowhere near a keyboard. Sitting at a desk and a keyboard somehow erases whatever is on my mind. Is it intimidating? Or do I just think better when I'm busy? I've always been bad at directions, so I don't think I'm getting senile yet. I remember going to a city over 2 hours away and driving all around an area I thought I was familiar with. I missed the wedding of my friends. I was only in my 20's. Earlier this year, I missed a funeral, but then it was in unfamiliar territory out in the sticks. I almost missed a wedding this past Saturday at a farm in the next county. I should know those main roads, but I kept missing my turnoff. GPS sent me to the wrong town in a flood and thunderstorm. I drove onto the premises at the last minute. Thankfully, they delayed the ceremony, not for me, but to see if the rain would let up for an outdoor ceremony. They decided an hour later to do it in the pavilion where they planned the reception. But I'm not completely off the hook with the final vows being over. When I left, I drove down to the pavilion thinking I was on the exit road. I finally got on the right road, but still ended up in the boonies and not on the major road I came in on. I wandered around for hours in the dark alone, until I finally came on pavement with painted lines! I was so happy to be in civilization again. I still made wrong exits from traffic circles in the small nearby town. Finally, I saw a sign pointing to an area outside my town and took that deserted, but painted road. I got home, thirsty, tired and a little scared to try that again. Fortunately, I had a full tank of gas. So maybe my family members aren't so far wrong, acting like I'm a feeble old lady. I want to be independent and make my own decisions. I have to pay my own taxes, and take care of my own yard. I can do the whole thing. And there aren't that many wedding invitations. |
| Everyone remembers the "good ol' days". Mention them and people will nod their heads or go "Uh, huh". But whether we're thinking along the same lines depends on the ages to whom we are speaking. We had childhood or young adulthood in different decades, and our memories go back to whatever was a simpler time for us. The truth is our memories blur out all but the most painful memories. The good old days were never all that great. We were in better shape and had more energy. Our dreams were still alive and we were still driven to succeed at whatever was our course in life. Whether you are 25 or 75, you have pleasant memories of what seems like better days. We didn't have cell phones or "911" when I was young. Medicine has improved greatly. Just this year I had a difficult but innovative surgery that wasn't even dreamed of ten years ago. In some ways the "good days" are now. We have computers, widespread air-conditioning, life saving drugs, improved food storage, better cameras, more entertainment for kids. Agriculture techniques and tools have improved. Machinery is faster and more complicated (harder to maintain). Minimum wages have increased. Some of the old things have gone away. We don't take in family members who are down on their luck or getting sick or old. My grandmother always had someone staying with her. My own parents took in a great aunt, never married who lived alone in the country. She was a nanny to us kids while Mom cooked and cleaned. We don't have a daily newspaper any longer. Play areas are now businesses. Fishing areas are off limits today in many spots. Some things are gone and I'm glad. When I was young, there were people with outhouses inside the city limits. That was on the white streets. A black friend told me her family had indoor toilets but open sewers that ran along the streets. You had to walk in the street, no sidewalk, and balance across wooden planks to get into your own yard. It always smelled bad. Those were not part of the good old days. In my town, the Jews were a welcome part of the town. The foreigners were Italians or Greeks and ran the restaurants. Only occasionally did you encounter an Oriental, like the Filipino I worked with in high school. Now 16% of the city population are from other nations. That's neither good nor bad, just different. What makes them the "good old days" is our fading memory. We get beset by the weight of world affairs, financial difficulties, relationship troubles, and we want to go back in our minds to a time when we had fewer worries, less concern, no deadlines or bills to pay. Our perspective, negative or positive, taints our memories, too. Perhaps, any time we are still alive and free, those are the good days. |
| With so many newspapers vanishing and magazines shrinking or publishing less often, where do the columnists show their work? Here are today's Lewis Grizzard, Andy Rooney, Art Buchwald, Paul Harvey, or Dave Barry or even Erma Bombeck? For that matter, where do people go to read about other people's problems, like Ann Landers, or Dear Abby, or Miss Manners? Southern Living has Grumpy, but he doesn't appeal to the general public, only gardeners. Is the blog or a podcast the only alternative? Of course, Paul Harvey also had a radio show. Andy Rooney had a weekly spot on 60 Minutes. Rooney was full of opinions and claimed that writing made him happier than anything else. If you don't have a big name and get a major syndication, where do you express yourself and get compensated like those who have already had an audience and passed on. I worked with a guy once who had a sarcastic view of everything. We joked about running an advice column together. We would have real problems; he would respond first with a surly, caustic answer, which was typical for him. Then my softer response would follow with a more practical and realistic view. We waited too long. People go to the Internet for answers they can't trust and our state has almost no newspapers left. What's left for those of us who would like to "one up" the humorists and columnists we like? |
| I'm helping crafts at Music Camp this week. The thrust of it is to learn a musical and present it tomorrow night. But they also have snacks, recreation, and crafts. Two people have been doing props, separately, not together. Preschoolers are one group not in the musical, so they get to go home at noon. Kindergarten thru second grade are also dismissed early. They have their own music and classes. So I am working with 3rd through 6th with a few older kids doing solos. Some of the crafts we have done I thought would not go over with that age group. The easier they were, the more they liked them. They really got into making party hats of paper plates with half a Styrofoam ball hot glued on it. They chose their own lace, rickrack, pompoms and artificial flowers and used tacky glue to attach. They were so creative! One active boy made a Martian hat with the stems only from the flowers with pompoms for eyes. Only one kid balked at wearing the hat, a girl. I assured her it was for decoration only. No one would ever see her wearing it. Some are worthy of hanging on a wall. Other days, we let them draw design we had chosen for them to imitate and decorate as they chose with markers. One day we made bookworms, since there is one in the play. Those took a lot of patience and ended up with pipe cleaner antennae and googly eyes. Today we did water colors on a pre-chosen design which they had to imitate. We ran out of time. They really got into it. I was surprised, thinking they wouldn't like things so simple and maybe childish. But maybe 8-12 year olds are all that sophisticated yet. |
| People who do volunteer work have to be some of the nicest people in the world. I have volunteered at a historic theater, and those folks were great. But the people willing to get dirty sorting clothes at the clothing center are the warmest, most generous folks around. I went there today with a couple of bags of donations. They were all smiles and had nice things to say. I quit about a year ago for health reasons, so they wanted to know how I have recovered. I feel like a different person since they saw me last. But they are as exuberant as ever, doing work no one else will do. Many of their customers are not appreciative and can be a little scary. I have been campaigning for a group I know to buy new underwear for adults before fall. I know that the men, more than women, will ask for underwear and don't mind telling their size. I have had to hand out some when no one else was in that room. We have to keep them in the closet, so they won't all disappear at once. They can see us reach into a brand new bulk package. I discourage people from donating used underwear, although some people do. Donations are not always clean, but then others are still in dry cleaning bags. This clothing center has clothes for children and teens, too. They allow anyone to "shop" there and get a paper bag full of clothes for $6, or a pair of shoes for $2. A good winter coat will run from $3 to $5. Homeless people come in with vouchers and get what they want for free. These volunteers are always friendly, helpful, and never condescending. I've seen them make job recommendations or give other guidance. They seem to genuinely enjoy seeing someone who is happy with his or her find. I have met a lot of foreigners there and have heard great tales. I only hope that someone will perceive me as one of the nice guys. |
| You'd think I would know by now to Save and Edit frequently. I had almost finished today's blog when I lost everything. I don't have it in me to try again today. I'm going to sit in front of the fan and just read. |
| I read yet another story recently involving kids and the school bleachers. It reminded me of my school bleachers which were cement built into a hillside. There were no shenanigans under them. Yesterday, I drove by the old football field, which I usually ignore. But this time I strained my neck to see without wrecking on the busy road. They are gone! Trees and shrubs fill that hillside. The football field is now a parking lot for the county employees. The school was converted to a much needed larger office space years ago. Already there are more offices further south at the city's border. Like schools that are soon overflowing, so are government offices apparently. I felt very sad. All the times gym teachers made us run up and down the steps in the aisles are a distant memory. Watching games and homecoming pomp and pageantry have faded with my youth and ability to walk, much less run, up those steps. But there are also other changes in that nearby region. New businesses have spring up. The shops where we went for sodas or treats have been replaced by upscale cafes. Without teen customers, you can't have businesses that cater to them. Even the paper recycling bin that appeared after the school closed on the far corner of the lawn has disappeared. The parking spaces have all been reserved for residents and offices just uphill from my old school. I used to walk home everyday and went right through this lovely area that's now so congested with traffic. The lack of parking makes it undesirable for many people to do business downtown which is only one block away, formerly known as Main Street, now known as the downtown mall. It's all bricked in with no side streets. Another thing we didn't have when I was in school is homeless people plopped out on the mall all day every day, no matter the weather. We have plenty of shelters in town with air conditioning, but they prefer to socialize with more people in the sun. My grandmother's house on a busy intersection, where many relatives and friends have stayed, is now a barber shop. Oh, the memories of that place. The shopping center with major department stores is almost abandoned, and the county is using some of that space and parking lot for its purposes. What was once "the country" is now a thriving hectic business community with new roundabouts being constructed each year. No, nothing stays the same. Outside a museum or in our memories, that is. |
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