Can You ‘Handle It’?
14 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in comedy, Entertainment/News, humor, miscellaneous, relationships Tags: Bottle Holder, Brands Mart, Bree Van Dee Camp, Desperate Housewives, Ice cream cone holder, inovators, inventions, life metaphors, Overprotective, Pet Rock, pocket protector, The Handle It
I just went grocery shopping with my son, and it always seems to turn into a mixture between, stress, and comic relief. First, he finds, a produce bag, fills it with air,and starts to see if he can keep it in the air as long as possible. He places the bubble on his head as a hat, and waits for all the comments to come in from passersby. It’s tilted like a fedora, and I have to admit, it’s funny.
Yesterday, he dared me to dance to Michael Jackson, in front of the screen at Brands Mart, which I did, and I had a group of people giving me thumbs up. However, when it was his dare, he left me hanging.”No way!” He said,”If I was with my friends, sure. But not with my mom!” “Oh, great, so does that mean if they dared you to smoke some weed or something, you would?” He rolls his eyes.”Come on mom!”
But,I was surprised,because he usually loves to perform. Which is why I actually got him to put on a little girls pink sparkly jacket today, and dance to, ‘ Bingo Was His Name-O’. I guess it just depends upon his mood.
pink is his color
Then we made a trip down another aisle and it was filled with ordinary food items, until my eyes seemed to drift to a string of plastic hanging on the side. “Hmmm. What is this?” I wondered. “Are they kidding?” I called my son over. “You’ve got to see this!” “Oh come on!” He said. “Who would make their kid use that?” “Well, probably some kid with a pocket protector, and coke bottle glasses.” “Yea,” he said, and a helmet!” “Wait, a minute” I said. “You are supposed to wear a helmet!” But before we started arguing, I took a picture of the incredibly silly object and told him to hold it.
Ice cream cone holder
Now before any inventor of such object, looks at my blog and gets angry, I’m sorry, but, much like the ‘Pet Rock,’ I just thought this to be hilarious. What kid, is going to use this without ever being able to live this one down? Really? Oh, and just so you know, this can be turned upside down, for a popsicle too! Now, are you this worried, as a parent, about those little drips, that you are going to force your child to live with the stigma of this taunting for the rest of his life? I mean, isn’t the fun of having a popsicle or ice cream cone, just licking it, before it melts? Sorry, but, kids are kids, and most would say, “dude, hold your own cone!”
I’m thinking that only someone like, Bree Van De Kamp, from Desperate Housewives, came up with this idea. It’s a kids nightmare. Or perhaps, Joan Crawford…”No more wire hangers! Yikes, that woman still scares me!
I can hear it now; “Charles, make sure you put your sweater on, before you leave the house, or you’ll catch a cold. (myth) And don’t forget your helmet. (He’s walking) Tie your shoes! Look both ways before crossing the street.Press the button for the cross-walk. Don’t jay-walk. Don’t forget your calculator, pocket protector, and lunch, and your ice cream cone holder, if you get an ice cream!”
Ice cream holder $2
It reminded me of a venture a family member had been involved in years ago, with some guys. They had put some money into that bottle holder, “The Handle It.” Well, I thought it was funny. I know, I just felt the same way as I do about the Ice Cream thing. Why in the world can’t a person hold their bottle of soda?
So, we were at my sister-in-law’s house, and her husband has the same sense of humor as I do. We took that ‘Handle It,’ and made it into all kinds of silly gadgets. We took pictures of it, as, a golf tee, a hat rack, salt and pepper shaker, etc. My ex husband, and everyone got involved. We laughed so hard and had so many pictures at the end. We must have come up with 50 ideas for that thing. Her daughter’s husband was somewhat reticent at first, and then he really got into it.
Well, lo and behold, Christmas rolled around and they present the brother-in-law, who had been involved in this business venture, with a collage of all these pictures! He laughed so hard he was crying and said he was going to take it to his partners. It was even a surprise to me. It ended up being a bust in the end, but we all had some great laughs from the whole thing.
Of course the name of the collage was, “Can You Handle It?”
Hmm, come to think of it, both the ice cream holder and the bottle holder are clearly metaphors for life.
I’m In Contempt….Again!
03 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in christian, Entertainment/News, humor, miscellaneous, relationships Tags: christian, Christmas, elder care, guardian, Richard Stearrns, Snuggie, special needs, special needs trust, The Hole In Our Gospel, World Vision
So I had a stressful holiday as usual and decided next year, to avoid it until after all the pagans are finished celebrating. Of course I say this every year. I’m tired of the people taking up my parking space when I want to go grocery shopping. I’m tired of the mall shopper’s on the streets. I’m tired of the people with bad moods, just because they’re all trying to get the last-minute items for everyone, and they don’t even believe in anything.
Oh, I know, I know. Everyone is supposed to be something. At least that’s what statistics say. But the truth is that no one knows what the original meaning of it is anyways, so I’m going to start doing my own thing.Well, it’s not as if I wasn’t already. But, I really mean, I’m just tired of doing everyone else’s thing. Come on, hang with me on this one. Christ did not…and I repeat…He did not, celebrate His own birthday. And you can research this any time you please. I am an avid believer that everything had a purpose in scripture, and God said, that nothing was placed there without a reason, so, that being said, why didn’t Christ have birthday parties, yet we celebrate His? And, by the way, on a date, which, we just decided, for Him?
Nope, I’m thinking that this was a merchants, fiscal dream. At any rate, it’s fun for kids. Yet, I’m not sure if we are teaching the real message of love and giving. And I’m way over the bad attitudes, in the name of the goodwill to all men No matter,how badly the churches scramble. Even they seem to be sending a message of trying to get something by using this holiday to bring hordes of people in. Even they have gotten way too commercial. They’re using all kinds of bait to draw people in the name of Jesus. Then in the hopes of membership. Yes, I know this isn’t what some people like to hear because they get comfortable in those seats. So comfortable that they never leave.
The lights, the shows. It’s way over the top. I cannot even stomach the flashy churches with the show-stopping bands and lights. Sorry, if I don’t fit the image of all things religious for you. But, I’m not into it. Once I went to visit a church with a friend of mine years ago, and he said it best; “if the show starts, I’m leavin.” I started cracking up. But it’s true. I don’t think God needs a bunch of bells and whistles to get His point across.
Now, don’t get me wrong, not every church has a sinister agenda. There are some with a true desire to seek and save the hurting and the lost. But then they would get outside of those walls, wouldn’t they? I’m reading a book about this right now. Probably the best I’ve ever read on the subject. The Hole In Our Gospel by Richard Stearns, the founder of World Vision. He stepped down from position of CEO to serve the poorest of the poor.
This is the point. The love and compassion for the lost and hurting is what Christ wanted. Not a birthday party. So I am beginning to watch this whole exercise of Christmas with a mix of amusement and irritation.
Then I have all of the other things that come due at this time of the year. Like my brother’s guardianship report. Which most of you remember from last year. Yes, it always happens that I leave out some small detail and it’s kicked back to me with some threatening letter from the court, that I will have to appear if I don’t fix it, or “I’ll be held in contempt.” Or worse, “I could be removed as guardian.” The fact is, I’m the only real guardian, my brother has ever really had in his life. I love him and care for him. I’ve always protected him and wanted the best for him. He wanted to be with his family since my mother was forced to give him up and it was my desire to bring him home since I was a child. Now I have to jump through hoops ever year to prove that I am a fit caregiver.
Now the previous agency was just a generic entity, that made documents to commit fraud. They had listed all kinds of things on his reports. They had him capable of having a driver’s license,” marrying, the ability to ”buy and convey property.” What’s the big deal? Yes, if one would peer into some of th documents, of the people with Special Needs and the elderly,they would find some interesting details. But that is the funny thing. Most wards of the state, have none to oversee their care so it is very easy to fly under the radar.
So, I painstakingly make out my report year after year, even though nothing is going to change. I take him to his doctor to have him do his part. “Yes, he’s still mentally challenged. He still hasn’t been cured.”
Now, like clockwork, I get the letter. “Your letter has been audited and your letter isn’t clear about his residence. It should state, “current or present.” On page 6, it should say, what his plans are for the next 12 months. This must be complete in two weeks from date of letter or blah, blah, blah. Same old threat.
Oh, I’m so irritated. I would like to take last years and the year before. Or maybe the ones from up north. Oh no, those would pass no problem, they’re so ridiculous.
I make the necessary corrections immediately, but I have to go to work for a few days. Then the offices are closed. I decide to up to the office with my brother. I hand the secretary my report. She looks at me and almost with glee, she exclaims, “You can’t turn this in! It has to say, Amended on it!” “Well,” I told her. It did not say that in my letter. It only stated what corrections to make, and I made the necessary corrections.” Then she asked, “Do you have the letter with you?” “No, I didn’t bring the letter. I made the corrections, which I was told to make and brought it, before the date requested. But I’m sure you have the copy.” She yells back to the other woman, “You sent her the wrong letter! You didn’t tell her to write Amended, on her copy!” “Are you kidding?” For some reason, I’m not feeling the love from this woman. Really? Is the peace, love and joy, of the holidays, finished already?
Now she looks at me with a smile and says. “Oh, and you have to sign it again over your signature. And your attorney has to sign it again, over his signature.” At this point, I could see that she loved all of this control she was wielding over me.Wow, she must have really been shafted over the holidays. Probably got some sock’s or a Snuggie(so last year) “You mean I must go back to my attorney, just to have him sign above his signature again?” “That’s correct.” She said.
As I looked at her, all I could think of is that word “contempt” and how descriptive, it was of her. She smiled and said, “Happy New Year!” I wouldn’t let her have the satisfaction of knowing that I was wondering how it would feel to slap her right now. Yes, I could do, three, instead of the traditional New Year’s kiss. One for each cheek. After all, it is a Christian mandate, isn’t it? Turning the other cheek? Except it would be her own. Yes, I’m zoning in right now;It’s all about visualization; HAPPY (SLAP)NEW((SLAP)YEAR!(SLAP)!AHH, That felt good. The Lord was right. We Should turn the other cheek! I smiled right back at her and said, ”Oh, Happy New Year to You!” Even knowing, full well, that I had to leave, again, to go to work the next day. Arriving home on the holiday, with only one day to spare to get this paper-signing feat.
But alas, I still managed to get this accomplished, and my attorney, said “Isn’t this stupid?” “Oh, believe me” I said, I’m like so over all this nonsense!”
Those who should be held accountable, are not, and those who are doing the best they can are inundated with paperwork and technicalities. I’m ready to boycott Christmas next year, I’m over the courthouse records, guardianship papers, etc. It’s just more money and my time. So, I’ll just be doing my own thing from now on. That’s why I like Richard Stearns book. He found the Hole In Our Gospel. I saw the same thing many years ago. You can see it everywhere you look. But as we continue to pour ourselves out to a dying world, He fills me up. Those irritations will come and they will go.But He will lift me up, through it all.
Yes, that was my super spiritual moment! So even though I did get back from my trip get those signatures and back to the courthouse. I got everything in order. Next year and the year after….I’ll be in contempt again and again and again!!!!
Dear Santa, I’d like a ‘floating arm,’ for Christmas
21 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in aging, comedy, family, humor, miscellaneous, relationships Tags: Alzheimer's, canes, Center For Aging, dementia, floating arm, geriatric, memory loss, Walgreens, zip-line
mom
This was a conversation that I had with my son when we went out today. I decided to go to Walgreen’s, to pick up a few things. Given that they had also given me a coupon for $10 off of any purchase of $30 or more, it seemed like a good place to spend my money. Besides, the Walgreen’s near me, has been the place to get all my last-minute things, including supplements for my mother.
While we were there, I went down the aisle that had all the item’s that she could use, for help. Lately she has had a difficult time walking and she grabs my arm, just to walk across the kitchen. It’s a short walk from my family room to the bathroom, but for some reason, she seems afraid to walk into open spaces, without holding on to someone, or something.
Now I find myself, staring at an assortment of canes. Wow! Who knew that you could be so stylish, while using a cane? My son was thrilled. “Hey! I like this one!” He grabbed one with camouflage and said, “I can’t wait to be old!” I was laughing to watch him, pretending to walk. “Look at me! I’m trippin on my grill!” One of his favorite expressions.
I told him, “I like the leopard one.” “No,” he said. “Grandma would look better with the pink flowers.” Now It’s an amusing thought, that we are actually trying to match her personality to a cane. I’m sure they couldn’t come up with anything to incorporate all her personality traits. My eyes drift at all of them, when I see one which is quite different. ”Wait a minute, look at this one. It glows in the dark.”
“Oh! That’s so cool!” My son is clearly excited now. “Let’s get this, it’s just so cool.” “Ok,” I said. But at this point reality is settling in. “You are the one that is going to convince your grandma to use it. I’m going to say, it’s a gift from you.” “Ok,” he said. “But I still think she’s going to make some excuse.”
He kept looking at the other geriatric products, and was amazed at the products available. “Man, it’s gonna be fun when I’m old!” He says. “Sure, that’s easy for you to say. I’m the one that’s next. And you better hope that I’m not as stubborn as grandma.”
We were laughing after I left the house, because my mom had picked up her calendar for the umpteenth time, and asked me what day it was. Every time she would ask, I would say, “It’s the 21st, Wednesday, mom. And don’t check it off again. Yesterday, she checked off today. And this is the reason, I have to hide her medicines. When I would come home to find them on the wrong days, I knew this method wasn’t working.
So, we come in with this cane and my son was over the top, when he saw it glowing. I had to pry off the bottom cap to place a small tripod on the bottom. Hoping this wouldn’t detract from the appearance too much. “Ok,” I told him. “You’re job is to now, sell this, to your grandma.”
We walked into the room, as I exclaimed, “Mom, we wanted to give you an early gift. It’s something that your grandson picked out and he really thinks you’ll like it.” He came running in and pretending to dance with this cane. At first, she started laughing, and then he said, “Grandma, it’s for you.” “Oh no! I don’t need that!” She said. “Mom, you’re grasping at walls, and need my arm, to walk across the room.” “I don’t need your arm, and I’m not an invalid.” She says. “Well, what will you do, when I am not here to walk you?” “I don’t need your arm!” She yells out. “Ok, I’ll leave it right here for when you may want to use it.”
Her response? “What’s the date today?” I lost my patience all together, and said, “Mom! It’s still the 21st. You’ve asked me so many times, it’s driving me crazy!”
Yes, I know, it’s not the correct response. I turned around to see my son cracking up. “Let’s go to the grocery store.” I say to him. “I’m just at a loss about how to help her.” Then he says, “Well I know what you can get grandma for Christmas? A floating arm!” Then we both start laughing at the thought. I said, “Hey, they should design a floating arm, on a contraption, like a zip-line.” He starts laughing so hard, as we are just imagining my mom, grabbing hold to ‘the arm,’ careening across the kitchen, into her designated place.
Then he says, “Hey, she’s probably asking Kevin, what the date is. Did you hear her when you didn’t answer her?” “No,” I said. “What did she say?” “Oh,” he said. “It was funny She looked at Kevin, and said, “Geesh! Well, I’ll get the answer from someone else.”
“Oh, my gosh, can you see them together?” At this thought, we both started laughing even harder. “My mom, questioning my mentally challenged brother, all day, about what the date is. I can see him grabbing his calendar, which he has by his side as well. He keeps track of all the Packer’s games, on his calendar.
“He probably gets sick of it too!” my son says. “He probably says, “Stop it!” Which is my brother’s favorite expression, when he’s fed up. He’ll put his hand up, in a stop symbol, and says, “Stop it!” Oh, this is just hilarious, to even imagine.
I tell my son, “we should get her a Planner.” “Oh, I can already see what would be written in it.” He says. “First, get out of bed. Check off the date. Wait for Carrie to leave the room. Sneak some chocolate. Wait til she comes back. Ask her what date it is. Check off the date.” Now I can’t stop cracking up at him. I said, “Come on, that’s not nice. “Mom, it’s our humor that keeps us going.” “You know what? That’s true.” I said.
Now my son says, I’d love to put a hidden camera in the room to watch them. It’s probably so funny.” He has a point. I’ve walked into the room to hear my mom, just talking away with my brother. It’s not as if it’s odd to talk to him, but she’ll actually talk to him as if, he is fully functioning. He doesn’t have a clue about some of the things she’s saying. And she’s even gotten into arguments with him. This is a complete mystery to me. As I have to remind my son, he is not at your level, so don’t argue with him.
The good thing about her lack of memory, is that she forgets as soon as she has an argument. She’s told me, “well losing short term memory isn’t all bad. There’s some things people don’t want to remember.” How true this is. If only we could pick and choose.
Now my son is dancing in front of the television with the cane, and he’s singing into it like a microphone. My mother is getting a big kick out of this. She tells him, “Well I’m glad you like it! You can keep it!”
So, the ‘cane argument’ has blown over and I walk into the room. “Hey! She says, “What’s the date?”
It's not Christmas without a cane!
Braving the Winter Storm
19 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in aging, christian, family, miscellaneous, relationships Tags: abandonment, Atonement Lutheran, Barbie Dream House, blizzards, Christmas, fear, hannukah, hidden room, Light of the World, loneliness, Parklawn, snow storm, toaster, winter
I have been shopping for Christmas gifts, and I found myself getting very emotional in a store yesterday. I was looking at things for my mom. I remember, as I’m looking at clothes. Her hands are frail and she’s having difficulty with the simplest of tasks. Buttoning, unbuttoning. Opening little things. She’s even requesting that I walk her from one room to another. I find myself thinking, how many more Christmases do we have?” Time is so fleeting. It seems like yesterday that we were young and celebrating Christmas, with anticipation.
She recalls these days, often. “What I loved the most was going to church on Christmas Eve.” She says. Yes, I recall these very special years, in my life. We all went to school right down the street. It was Atonement Lutheran. Every class participated in the Christmas program. Each class was responsible for reciting parts of the Christmas story. When it was time for the kids in Kindergarten, to speak, it was always the best. So cute, and there was always, one or two, kids who were trying to yell louder than the rest. With their missing teeth and squeaky voices, it was adorable, even to us older kids.
At the end of the service, we would leave, to go home and on the way out the door, we were given stockings with peanuts and oranges. It’s amazing how wonderful this gift seemed to us. I think if I were to give that to my son, he’d say, “What the heck? Is this a joke?”
We lived down the street in a place called, Parklawn. And although, we were the poor kids, we all had a great sense of community. My friends from the outside, would beg to come visit me. They were so intrigued by us, “Parklawnian’s.” The poor people, who seemed to live in a perpetual party.
I have to admit. As rough as the Project life could be, we found our own entertainment. And back in the 60′s it wasn’t as violent as it is now. Although, we did have our share. We would get into physical fights and meet up at the park. But we didn’t have gangs or carry guns and knives.
My mom, tried to make our holidays special, even with her meager income. I appreciated that. Looking back, I’m amazed that she even made attempts. And her whole purpose for sending us to this school can only be God. She had to become a member, and I would sit in on the instructional classes. It was taught by Pastor Schaefer. Who happened to be the grandfather, of a girl in my class. She would later become a good friend.
You really never know what you’re doing that will influence a child. My mother would take me with her, because I was the oldest and she thought, I would behave. I always brought a book to read, but I was so interested in what this pastor was saying, that I would just listen to him. Seeds were planted in my spirit. I had the fertile ground to cultivate those seeds. I hadn’t realized this until much later in life. But just coming through the spiritual storms, had dredged up this dry ground, and I was absorbing this ‘Water of Life.’ It was perfect timing in my life, to hear the Word of God. “And faith comes by hearing, and hearing, by The Word of God.”
As my mother and I recounted these experiences, I said, “Mom, I remember the earliest Christmas. It was with you and dad and we lived at, The Green House. This was the term we used to refer to our house we lived in, right before my mother and dad split. It was a cute little green house, (hence the name) Built brand new. I still remember the smell of stained wood and new paint. I remember the excitement as a child, moving into this house.
It’s amazing how many memories we have. I told my mom, “That year, I wanted a Barbie Dream House. You and dad gave it to me.” She had remembered that they stayed awake into the wee hours, trying to assemble this thing. I loved these memories. My dad,would place a sheet over the entry to the living room and we weren’t allowed to go in until after we had breakfast. My mom would bake cookies the night before, for Santa, and there were a couple bites out of each one. It is actually my only memory of her baking.
We would eat our cereal, with so much excitement, just to race into the next room. I wonder at times, how they did all of this, considering the major dysfunction with my dad’s drinking and the abusive nature of their marriage. Perhaps this is why I love these memories; it shows how a sense of giving, can bring people together. If it is only for a day. How healing comes through self-sacrifice.
That Barbie Dream House, had all of my own fantasies, wrapped inside. I had drifted into my own world. As I watched my brother, Dennis, I grew so attached to him. I taught him to walk and he would seem to know when I was coming home from school. A few short month’s later, it seemed, he was gone. Spinal meningitis, had stolen him from me.
My father and mother were separating and I was in crisis. Yet no one noticed. After all, I was a child. I learned very early on, that the Dream House was destructible. It would not withstand the test of time any more than my whimsical family life.
Now, I am sharing memories with my mom and wondering how much time I have with her. I seemed to have turned a corner in our relationship. For years, her attitude has been stubborn and argumentative. I see a softness in her.
We had watched a movie starring Betty White, yesterday and I commented on how vibrant she is. “Yes,” she said, “You have to have something to look forward to.” I thought, this is so true. We have to feel relevant. It was the reason my father, lost his desire to live. He felt he had no purpose and it’s the reason that people just give up.
Just last Christmas she was upset about a toaster. And this year, I bought a bright, red toaster for her. I can’t wait until she opens it, as it has become a joke to all of us. I went into a Salvation Army, the other day, and amazingly, I found a little porcelain toaster too. I was so tickled and knew it had to be God.
Toaster
She is happy with the simplest of things. My son gave her a little ornament last year. It says, Grandma, on it. It lights up. And she keeps it on the table so she can look at it. She pick’s it up every few minutes and says, “This is so cute, isn’t it?”
I realize that I’m getting sad, that she doesn’t keep talking about her return to Wisconsin. She used to drive me crazy with this incessant talk. But now she hardly mentions it, and I feel more upset about not hearing it. Is she beginning to give up?
I woke from a dream this morning. In this dream, I had a doctor’s appointment, with my mother. I had been out shopping and a snow storm, was just starting. I must have lived somewhere else. I looked all over and couldn’t find my mom. I asked my kids, “Where’s grandma?” They told me she went out for a while. I was frantic. “Your grandma can’t go out by herself! She doesn’t even know where she is!” I was furious, and terrified, at the same time. I started running from room to room, with the hopes that they were wrong. “I’m sure I’ll find her sitting quietly on the bed.” I thought. Every where I looked, it was empty.
I’m now wondering if I should call the police. I look outside and it’s beginning to get dark. The street lights are on and the snow is coming down so hard, it’s blowing sideways. There’s no way she can survive out there. I’m panicking.
I go into a bathroom and see a hole in the ceiling. “What in the world? I climb up and realize that my daughter and a friend, had broken some lights, and had found a hidden room. Then I remember, there were rooms in the highest level of this house, which I never went into,because of fear. It is a nightmare I’ve had for many years of my life. I would not enter into this highest level and open these doors. But now I was looking at them from below. I see that my daughter and her friend had found this secret room. And there were all kinds of things in here that I could use. I saw paint containers and tools. I was looking at a ladder, coming down from one of the rooms which I would have never entered. But somehow, from this perspective, it was all so non-threatening. I felt a sense of relief, that I had been able to finally access this all alone.
When I woke, I began to dissect this. Of course, I know that this dream, had bit’s and pieces of my life throughout. I see that the Lord has tried to show me how fearful I’ve been to open certain doors. As I’ve been told in my past, these are the areas, He wants us to give to Him. And as He helps us to open them, we will see that, we have all kinds of tools, which will help us. “I know the plans, I have for you,” says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
My mother is one of those rooms. I hold on so tightly and I am afraid to face the winter storm. Distracted in my search for her, by a room which had hidden all of my fears. He revealed to me that, He is in control and I felt Him trying to prepare me. At times, the thought of her leaving, makes me scared. When she wakes up too late, I have fear. When she loses interest in little things, like her Soap Opera, I try to rekindle her fire. As if by doing this, I’m the one holding onto the silver cord of life. Christ reminds me that He is the reason we celebrate this holiday. He is the “Light of the World,” on Hanukkah, and the “The Greatest Gift,” on Christmas. He’s greater than any Barbie Dream House, and He’s not a fairy-tale.
I’m so thankful that my mother listened to the voice of the Lord and gave me the opportunity to Hear the Good News!
Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!
The Blizzard
Please Don’t Try To Rap!
02 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in aging, comedy, family, humor, miscellaneous, relationships Tags: advertising, Aflac, annoying commercials, Hooligans-Milwaukee, Lake Michigan, long-term care, marketing, milwaukee, peer pressure, Sigmund Snopek, teenagers, The Site
Ok, I’m upset that today, my son told me he didn’t want to go to the Christmas ceremony, at our City Hall. Well, not that he didn’t want to go, but that he didn’t want to go with, “his mom, and grandma, because it’s dorky!”
“Oh, really? So, you are now at an age, where, it’s dorky, to be seen with your mom and grandma?” “Well yea!” He says, as if I should just know when he’s hit that magic number. He tells me that, “all my friends will be there ,and they won’t be with their parents.” “Why wouldn’t they be?” I ask. “If they’re going by themselves, that’s just to start trouble.”Wow. Now I’m really turning into a stern parent. When I tell him that he can just come with us, and go hang out with his friends, he responds, “My friends wouldn’t just go there to hang out!” Ok, now I’m confused.
I realize that my mom, really can’t get around that well, and thought, she’d just enjoy looking at the lights. But I have to admit, it wasn’t the greatest thing to take her to. I drove up to a good spot in front of the City Hall. But as I went around to retrieve my mom, I saw swarms of teenagers, everywhere. And they were running like they were late for something. You know they sure wouldn’t be doing that for a class! So, I surmised that, they had all their little cliques, and my mom and I had wandered smack, dab into the feeding frenzy. These kids were, standing in mobs..
At one point, as my mom had her ‘death-grip,’ on my arm, a crowd of girls, were standing right in front of us on the sidewalk. We seemed to be invisible, as I said, “Hello!” “Oh,” a girl said, “Sorry.”
I began to think, “where are these kids parents?” When I looked around, I saw some people my age, and they were all kind of hanging together as well.And I could swear, smelled the distinct odor of alcohol, as I walked by many of them. Not the kids, the parent’s.It made me think of the remark one of my friends made, after seeing my son run head-first into a big bunch of sand as soon as we arrived to our hotel. He got up and was covered. “I firmly believe that every mother should have a flask, strapped to her belt.” She said.
I thought, “those are probably the parents, and I can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t want to hang with my son either. Not when I see these crazy kids, running in packs. I would definitely gravitate to friends my own age. Another sympathetic person, of an aging parent, and a teen. Yes, I can see why the need to bond, with someone in the midst of this madness.
I navigated my mom through the chaotic scene. Each time some kids came running past, I felt her grip my arm, tighter. I just wanted her to see some pretty Christmas decorations. As she’s constantly telling me that, “it doesn’t feel like Christmas, if their isn’t snow.”
Upon returning home, I shared with my son. “Hey, I saw your friends.” “How do you know?” He asked. “Cause, they were all a bunch of punks!” I said. And I started laughing. “You should have seen them. And they weren’t with their parents. They were just hanging out, causing trouble, like I told you. Geesh! They almost knocked your grandma down a few times.”
Now, he said, “Told you!” Ok, I had to concede. He was right. I didn’t want him there. But as he stands over me, it’s hard to let go. Now, he stands on his toes, and he’s towering above me. “Hey, mom. In a few more months, I’m going to be wayyyy, over your head!” As if this is proof of his maturity. Now he picks me up. Oh, doesn’t every boy love to do this to his mom?
I realized, he’s really growing up. I always want to give him kisses, or hugs, and that’s another, no-no, in the general vicinity of his friends. I get it. But I guilt him anyway. Just because that’s a mom’s job. “Hey, we only get just so many kisses and hugs, in our lives, and then it’s done.” But I’m starting to see that this, is losing it’s levity as well. I’ve got to come up with a new game-plan.
Now I’m sitting quietly with my mom. I watch her, and try tothink back to when I stopped, participating in my life with her. When was it, ‘not cool?’ I was pretty young. Actually, about my son’s age. I still remember, her bringing us back from Lake Michigan. We had gone down to the lake-front, on a nice summer day. Now, looking back, it was quite a feat, for my mom, with all of us. And, on a bus.
Yet, when we were at the lake, I heard music playing from down the beach. I wandered off. I came to a place, which would become my favorite hang-out, a few years later. ‘The Site,’ as it was called. Here, a rock band was playing. I still remember,the name; Sigmund Snopek. One of the guys was just flirting with me, and I was so giddy. A teenage girl, with so much attention, from this older guy. And he was a rock star. Well, at least, that’s what it seemed to me.
Well, on the way home, we were standing on a street corner, when we heard loud yelling. We were amazed, to see a guy being tossed out onto the street, from a bar, appropriately named, Hooligan’s.’ Now this is a place, I want to visit. My brother and I both laughed at this, and decided, that it looked like a really fun place to be.
I think of the passage of time, as I watch my mom and the difficulty she has, with just the little things. Then I begin to wonder, if I have any hopes of depending on my son or daughter, when I get like this. I sure hope they store some of this in ‘the archives,’ so when I have just a few marbles, they will remember, “Oh, yea, I remember what mom did, when grandma was losing it.” Then hoping they have the compassion to put some of this into action. But, it’s really a crap shoot.I’ve only got two. And my mom, had a whole bunch, but in the end, just one, to rely on. The odd’s are not in my favor.
Now a commercial comes on. That annoying AFLAC, commercial. It’s a guy, my age,which means, old) trying to rap. With a bunch of stupid, fake,animals. It makes no sense, and my son and I crack up, every time we see it. Who came up with this? Another group of overpaid, ad exec’s with a power-point presentation. And no one had the guts to say, “This sucks.”
The duck used to be bad enough, but now, a rapping menagerie. And the words, are terrible. They don’t have the correct rythym. I said, He says, “There’s just something major medical, doesn’t do.” When it’s perfectly obvious, to anyone writing rap, it should have another word. Like, “There’s something’s, major medical… just doesn’t do.’
It’s irritating enough, just to see a stupid frog on a lilly pad, singing, but this is just beyond, hoaky! But then, maybe that’s the point. I started to think, it’s the last frontier, between my son and I. We both agree it is so ridiculous, so that’s proof, that I’m not that old or dorky.
It is also a moment of bonding between my mother and I, because she’s just as annoyed by this. So, perhaps, this is the really effective part of this commercial. It annoys all kinds of people, of all ages, and it brings us together in agreement.
My son imitates it constantly. Out of the blue, he’ll say, “Hey mom…”there’s just some things, major medical, doesn’t do.” I laugh each time he says, it, because he know’s it is so obnoxious.
So now, I think, there just may be some hope for me. He tell’s me, “Women belong in the kitchen.” He will say things that he knows are ridiculous, just to make me laugh. But knowing that we have a full on agreement on some things, gives me a little glimmer of hope. I entertain it for a minute. “Perhaps, I won’t just be a little old woman with a bunch of cats.” Then I snap back to reality. Better get that AFLAC, in place.
Is There A Doctor In the House?
30 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
in comedy, Entertainment/News, family, humor, miscellaneous, relationships, Travel, Travel Tags: entitlement, Grinch, Hoarders Buried Alive, Jetiquette, Non-revenues, rudeness, Scrooge, The Marriage Ref, The Sky Steward, TSA
Well, I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, or people are just becoming ruder. In the last few weeks, I’ve had many experiences on the airplanes, with whining, tantrums, and self-centered behavior. And that isn’t the babies.
A few weeks ago, a woman left her suitcase right in the aisle and sat down. As I approached to ask who owned the bag, the man in the aisle, pointed to her. He looked disgusted as well. I said, “Mam, your bag must be stowed for takeoff.” “Well,” she said, someone took all of my overhead space.” I reminded her that this is shared space, and that I had made several announcements to let people know that there was space int the next cabin. She defiantly crossed her arms, as if to say, “I’m not going to budge.” As if the man on the aisle could read my mind, he stood up. I said, “Go on.” At this she stood and took her bag up front. I saw the flight attendants, very graciously place it into the business class closet. I thought, she probably told them that I gave her the ok, to do this.
At any rate, it was taken care of. Or so I thought. After we were inflight, she came to the back. She asked for my name and the name of the other flight attendant. I asked her if I could help her with something. She claimed, “No, I’m going to file a complaint.” “Oh,” I said, “About your bag?” “Yes,” “I’ve been flying for 20 years, and someone always, takes my bag and puts it away for me.” At this I laughed. Now, this was no little old lady that needed assistance, or I’d be happy to help. She was a con artist. So, I said, “Well, that was very kind of them, but when you bring a carry-on, you are responsible for carrying it on, stowing it, and then carrying it off.”
“No!” She said, “That is your job!” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you serious?” I said. “That is an occupational hazard for us. We can’t lift everyone’s bags and put them away. Just a year ago, I tore my rotator cuff, and there is no way I’m lifting hundreds of people’s bags all day.” Then she said something that made me laugh even harder. “Then you go out and heal, and come back to work. I can’t help it, you are a small, weak woman!” I was just beside myself, and I wondered how long she had gotten away with this. I wanted to say, “If I’m small and weak, what’s your excuse for not lifting your own bag?”
Now I said, “Listen when you file your complaint, make sure you ask them if this is a job requirement for us. I would like to hear the response. And perhaps then you will understand.”She huffed at me, and went back to her seat. The other flight attendant’s couldn’t believe it, when I told them what she had said.
Then we had a woman with an earache, on my next flight. The woman on the aisle called the flight attendant, and said, “Isn’t there something your airline does for sick people? Like move them to First Class or something?” The flight attendant in the back told us about the conversation. We had all kinds of scenarios for interfering woman. I said, “Hey, let’s take the red/infection control bag, to the back and wrap the woman in it.” “Yea,” and we can all put on our gloves and white masks.” We were all laughing.
The purser went back to find out what was going on, and she finally asked the woman in the aisle, “Are you traveling with this woman?” “No,” She said. “Oh, because you seem so concerned,” she said. She just kept sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. First of all, if the woman had an earache, she probably was traveling with a cold, and as I pointed out to the Purser, “the air pressure in every cabin is the same.” And the sick woman, wasn’t the one asking for an upgrade. It was the nosy woman sitting in her row. She probably wanted extra room.
Now last night, there was a couple sitting in business class. Right before the service was about to begin, the woman across the aisle from them, handed the flight attendant a note. On the note it said;”Can you page to see if there is a marriage doctor, on board? The couple across from me won’t stop arguing!”
The flight attendant, thinking she was joking, wrote on her note, “You’re kidding, right?” The woman was not. I came up to help them with their service and they told me the story. I realized that this woman was serious. And that, although the couple were having little arguments, here and there, it wasn’t loud and abusive. More like hen-pecking by the wife. I just laughed as I said, “Hey, can you imagine that announcement? If there is a marriage doctor onboard, please ring your call button. We have an emergency! There is a couple onboard having an argument, and it may cause the woman next to them, to have stress-related illness.”
I wondered at the terrible behavior I’ve seen. I’ve always said, “We can avoid 99% of the problems in this world, if people stopped minding other people’s business.” Now I’m not talking about serious issues, where someone needs to get involved. But it seems some people just create drama, wherever they go. And more often than not, it happens on airplanes.
Last night a woman was in the last row, with her two children. She let these toddlers make all the decisions, for everything. I see future, bad-mannered, adults, coming down the pike. Then she took all her trash, and stuffed it on the floor,under her seat. My flying partner and I, surmised that her home, is probably like this, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see her on an episode of, ‘Hoarders, Buried Alive!’
I wonder if it really is a change because of the confined space. Or the air pressure. I have seen it all, but lately the common courtesies, are not very common.
I know a flight attendant with a blog that addresses these very issues; He is The SkySteward.And He writes about, Jetiquette. Yes, it is very useful information. However, what I said about therapy patients, holds true in this case too; Sane people go to therapy to learn how to deal with the crazy people around them. Crazy people don’t think they’re crazy, so you’ll never see them going to the therapist. (Unless a court order) Which doesn’t count. By the same token, rude, ill-mannered people, would not be reading information on etiquette, and common social graces. Because they have none, and yet they don’t realize that what they are doing is rude.
So, with that in mind, read the info, so you’re prepared when you come across these folks. Perhaps take copies with you, to hand out. I personally think, it would be nice to have a little booklet, addressing these issues, in the seat-pocket. Now wouldn’t that be fun? And as your reading your copy, the rude person next to you, who loves to be observant and read over your shoulder, will be able to read about themselves! Yes, that could probably one of the last pages, so they can get the full benefit of the text. Like, “Rule Number 10. Never, ever, read over another person’s shoulder. It is similar to eavesdropping. An invasion of privacy.”At this point you may look right into their eyes. That should be effective.
Oh, yes, and as I’m sitting here in the gate area, I am reminded of a huge pet-peeve, for many of us, non-revenues, commuting home. It’s the people that wander up to the gate, with food and coffee, 5 minutes before departure, and ask, “Are you boarding?” What is that all about? Don’t they read their itinerary? Don’t they realize TSA, has control issues of their own? And if they choose to go through your stuff, well, game over. And then they get through security and stop to get food? Many of us commuters, have been walking down jetbridges, or on airplanes, only to be pulled off last minute, because someone got out of bed late.
Just a few minutes ago, a guy got his boarding pass with 10 minutes to spare and asked, “Can’t I just go get a paper?” All of us looked at each other in amazement.The agents said, “No sir! We’re ready to leave!” He argued, “It’s right over there!” I was thinking, this guy has a lot of nerve. And what is going to change in that paper between now and when he lands. Besides, there’s broadcast news on the plane. Once again, “It’s a dollar waiting on a dime.”
I’m just growing weary of the whole, “entitlement’ attitude. I found one simple word to put an end to all of this nonsense. And it’s a word that, rude, arrogant people, have not heard enough. “NO.” It’s simple and to the point. It’s a solution to ending ‘world rudeness.’ And it’s a universal word, that everyone understands.
Have a great holiday, and don’t let those Grinch’s, ruin your travel plans!!!!
Black Friday on the Crazy Train!
27 Nov 2011 1 Comment
in christian, comedy, Entertainment/News, family, humor, miscellaneous, political Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, Bernie Madoff, Black Friday, Christmas, Crazy Train, Goodwill, government bailouts, greed, instant gratification, It is more blessed to give than to receive, Jesus in the Temple, Jesus is the reason for the season, Occupy Wall Street, Ozzie Osborne, Partridge in a pear tree, pepper spray, Small Merchant Saturday, Solyndra, unemployment, Walmart, Xbox
The Prince of Darkness beckons you!
And who would be a better representative of this momentous day, other than Ozzie? The Prince of Darkness to promote this day. Come on out folks. Take your chances and board, ‘The Crazy Train,’ to shop on Black Friday!
Yes, I continue my rant. I can’t resist. I went to the Swap Shop on Black Friday. So, I’m not a legitimate, Black Friday, shopper. But I just had to get into the murky waters, of river rats, swarming to the malls.
Now, my son knows. I’ve given him the drill, “no yelling at bad driver’s,unless he’s driving. So, as is his custom, when he sees my tension rising because someone cut me off, etc; he touches my steering wheel and yells, “Moron!”
I go to the local Flea Market, to check out some things. I hate to pay full price for anything. And besides, I have a good friend, who works there. He lives solely from the proceeds, he brings in from selling things donated to him.
I love the hunt that comes with looking for that certain thing, which is too ridiculous to buy at a retail store. Most people who go to bazaars and flea markets, know, it’s all about bartering. I learned a long time ago, that people redecorate, and just get rid of things, which are in brand new condition. I’m not going to pay way more than an item is worth, just to say, “it’s new.” I don’t care about, “the story,” and I sure don’t care about impressing anyone.
Then the icing on the cake, confirmed every ill feeling I had about our new excuse to spend, Black Friday. I was watching the news, later. People trampling each other, and a woman, pepper sprayed a crowd, at a Walmart. Why? Oh, well, don’t you know? She had to get that X-Box. Well of course. Everyone, should have one. Honestly, I could have been watching, Wall Street, and the Occupy movement. It looked identical. Except in this case, a shopper sprayed other shopper’s. At least the 1%, stay at home with the $$$, until the chaos of the poor, greedy people, has subsided. While those in the media and marketing, who had created this blitz, probably sit back with their golden bowls of popcorn and watch in amusement. I’d think very similar to the gladiators, of old.
I watched with amazement, to see what greed, caused such actions. And it’s just this greed, which is the root of our problem in this country and in the world. The need for instant gratification. It’s not isolated to those in the top echelon of society. It all begins in the heart.
Yes, Ozzie was right. This is really, The Crazy Train! I’m sure not boarding. No one seems to notice, that, Black Friday, is just a new term, to turn this season into a ‘vampire holiday.’ It’s another ploy to get the people in red, to put them in the black! Playing right into their greedy hands.
Now, we also have, “Small Business Saturday.” Oh, great. Let’s not forget about those poor small businesses. Yes, it reminds me of my daughter. The other morning she came home at the wee hours and I was irritated. She went to work and didn’t return. I knew she hadn’t worked 12 hours and I was concerned. “Mom, I was helping to set up so we could feed the orphans tomorrow. I would think you’d be happy about that!” Oh, here we go. A table-turning??? You think I can be manipulated that easy? I had to point out that I wished she were that considerate. If she was, she’d think about her own family and the turmoil she’s been causing. “Well, you better help with the orphans,” I said, because you may be standing out on a corner with a sign yourself!” Like everyone else, I pointed out, her priorities were a little messed up.
Now, these marketing strategies, seem to be working. All these people spending money we don’t have. Wait, last I heard, we were supposed to have a huge deficit. But then we have corporations, getting bailouts, only to turn around and declare bankruptcy. (Solyndra) All the corporate people probably helped the economy, by plugging it back in during their shopping sprees, this Christmas.
Now, I think we need to use every day of he week, just to get that economy pumping again. I mean, if we’re going to be played, how about taking advantage of this, and guilt people into spending, for 7 days? We can really be tapped out by Christmas. Wonderful. And think about how much interest, the bankster’s can make from all the bankrupt people. Then when the bills come, which no one can pay, we’ll just increase the deficit. Yes, I definitely think we need to add some more incentives to spend.Ahh, the heart of man. Just persuade them to get the latest gadget. The ‘must have, for this season. And I love the fact that we’re supposed to actually feel sad, for those poor businesses.
How about, “Spend your unemployment, Sunday? Food Stamp gift cards, Sunday. Madoff, Get Out of Jail Cards, Monday. Bail out your favorite corporation, Tuesday.Repossess your purchases, Wednesday.Oh, and my favorite, “Bail Out an Occupy Wall Streeter, Thursday.
Yes, there are just so many opportunities to give. And didn’t our Lord say, “It is better to give than to receive?” And I guess some people think, you should run people down to get that gift. Well, at this rate, “on the 12th day of Christmas, I’ll be eating my partridge in my pear tree.”
Oh, I am really starting to understand that the Lord was literal, when He said, “Peace on Earth, Goodwill, to all men.” Yep, that’s where I shop, and so will you, if you keep squandering. Hope you remember the real meaning of this occasion. That’s right….His name is Jesus! The reason for the season!
