Maybe it's because I'm not yet a father. Maybe I'm subconsciously lamenting the fact that I'm not yet a father, and a part of me simply doesn't care (as harsh as that sounds). But I am terrible at remembering the names of other people's kids.
Granted, I don't have much reason to know most of these kids' names (unless they have been or currently desire to be in one of the dramas at church), but it is rather embarrassing when I repeatedly have to ask one of my closest friends in the world – who has two young boys – "Now which one is he again?"
Don't get me wrong. I like kids a lot. I'd love to have some of my own, but – for reasons I won't go into in detail right now – it hasn't been possible as yet.
However, I still feel as though I should be more aware, or perhaps care more about the progeny of my acquaintances, friends, and family.
Yes, I said family. I have several first cousins to whom I was quite close growing up, and now they are married with a gaggle of kids each, and I couldn't for the life of me tell you any two of their kids' names in total.
Speaking of the folks with multiple kids... God bless you, I don't know how you do it, but you seem to manage parenthood very well indeed. I have a hard time trying to feed and clean up after three cats – and other than food, water, and litter boxes, they are pretty much self-sufficient.
But while we're on the subject, y'all with the bigger families are the hardest of all for moniker-challenged dopes like me. I can't remember one of your kids' names, much less all of them.
Especially – and this is not meant to offend anyone out there who does this – when most, if not all of their names, start with the same letter. My brain doesn't do well with that. It sees "Tall One," "Not As Tall One", "Short One", and "The One In The Stroller".
Could you maybe color-code your young'uns and give me a cheat sheet?
I can't count how many times, when recruiting for the Easter or fall dramas at church, I have had to call up our Music Minister or Youth Pastor and ask, "Do you know this kid who signed up? Who's their mama? What do they look like? Should I know them from somewhere?"
I'm not kidding. I'm horrible at this.
Now my wife on the other hand, she's a teacher. She teaches Science to the entire 7th grade at her school. That's six different sets of kids each day, about 130 or so students in all. And she remembers all of them by face AND by name. And let me tell you – and any teachers out there reading this can testify that it's true – some people give their kids the craziest, most unpronounceable names imaginable. And yet she remembers them all.
Maybe teachers are a different animal altogether – they have to be, to be able to deal with all they have to on a daily basis. But this guy – who gets paid to write words in some semblance of order – can't seem to grasp names quite so well.
So, if I see you at a family get-together, and refer to your kids as "Little Guy" or "Pretty Girl", don't be offended. If I see you at church and speak to you without speaking to your kids, it's not because I don't like them. I just don't know who they are. Not by name, at least. Forgive me...
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
Self-Diagnosing
Do you ever self-diagnose your problems? I do, often.
For one thing, there's a wealth of information out there with which to educate myself about any particular ailment, or whatever else may be bothering me.
For another thing, doctors' visits are expensive, especially when you (like I do) have to meet a fairly high deductible out of pocket before your insurance will start to pitch in and help any at all.
So I self-diagnose.
Right now, I'm suffering from costochondritis...I think. It could be simply a pulled or strained muscle. Either way, I have a good deal of pain at my right ribcage that intensifies with every deep breath I take. It wakes me up at night. Last night only once, but the night before it was three times.
Interestingly enough, costochondritis often presents itself in many of the same ways as a heart attack, and should therefore be taken quite seriously. So I hit the internet and "solved" my problem.
This condition, its cause unknown and its treatment merely pain management, often affects women more often than men, and generally causes discomfort in the left side more often than the right. Leave it to me to be the exception. But it's the diagnosis that fits the best, if you take WebMD.com and the MayoCliniic.com sites with more than a grain of salt (and I do).
So, I take my NSAIDS and rest while waiting for this inflammation of the tissue connecting the ribcage to the sternum to subside.
Call it foolish if you will. Call it being a cheapskate. It doesn't matter to me either way. I'm not dying, just hurting. And I'm a heckuva lot better off financially for not going in to get who-knows-how-many tests done, only to find out what I think I already know (ruling out everything else first is how costochondritis is most often ultimately diagnosed).
There may be a touch of the hypochondriac in my nature, as I am often suspicious that I may have such-and-such an ailment at times. Like obsessive compulsive disorder, antisocial personality tendencies, and a "funny neck" (this is not the proper medical term, but there really isn't a word to describe a neck that can't ever quite fully relax in any position).
But it is what it is, and so am I. Lord help me!
For one thing, there's a wealth of information out there with which to educate myself about any particular ailment, or whatever else may be bothering me.
For another thing, doctors' visits are expensive, especially when you (like I do) have to meet a fairly high deductible out of pocket before your insurance will start to pitch in and help any at all.
So I self-diagnose.
Right now, I'm suffering from costochondritis...I think. It could be simply a pulled or strained muscle. Either way, I have a good deal of pain at my right ribcage that intensifies with every deep breath I take. It wakes me up at night. Last night only once, but the night before it was three times.
Interestingly enough, costochondritis often presents itself in many of the same ways as a heart attack, and should therefore be taken quite seriously. So I hit the internet and "solved" my problem.
This condition, its cause unknown and its treatment merely pain management, often affects women more often than men, and generally causes discomfort in the left side more often than the right. Leave it to me to be the exception. But it's the diagnosis that fits the best, if you take WebMD.com and the MayoCliniic.com sites with more than a grain of salt (and I do).
So, I take my NSAIDS and rest while waiting for this inflammation of the tissue connecting the ribcage to the sternum to subside.
Call it foolish if you will. Call it being a cheapskate. It doesn't matter to me either way. I'm not dying, just hurting. And I'm a heckuva lot better off financially for not going in to get who-knows-how-many tests done, only to find out what I think I already know (ruling out everything else first is how costochondritis is most often ultimately diagnosed).
There may be a touch of the hypochondriac in my nature, as I am often suspicious that I may have such-and-such an ailment at times. Like obsessive compulsive disorder, antisocial personality tendencies, and a "funny neck" (this is not the proper medical term, but there really isn't a word to describe a neck that can't ever quite fully relax in any position).
But it is what it is, and so am I. Lord help me!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
A Post A Day For A Whole Year???
Well, that's the goal. One goal among many others. Many insignificant, a few more substantial.
Call it some kind of wonky public diary.
Swim in my stream of consciousness if you dare.
I can't promise every day will be golden, but I'll try to make each one interesting. (Key words: I'll try.)
So, if you don't think I can do it, check back each day to see if I do.
If you get anything out of it, great.
If not, and no one ever reads it, at the very least it's a good writing exercise for me.
Either way, I'm gonna give it my best shot. Here goes nothing...
Call it some kind of wonky public diary.
Swim in my stream of consciousness if you dare.
I can't promise every day will be golden, but I'll try to make each one interesting. (Key words: I'll try.)
So, if you don't think I can do it, check back each day to see if I do.
If you get anything out of it, great.
If not, and no one ever reads it, at the very least it's a good writing exercise for me.
Either way, I'm gonna give it my best shot. Here goes nothing...
Friday, December 2, 2011
Holly Jolly Melancholy
It's the most wonderful time of the year. Or so the song says. But I'm not feeling it.
Matter of fact, I'm feeling quite the opposite. Call it the Christmas blues, or holly jolly melancholy, or whatever you choose. I'm just not into the holiday spirit this year – at least not yet.
I don't know why, but I can't even seem to crack a smile. It just seems that nothing's all that funny. Or mirthful. Or amusing even. I've lost whatever degree of quirky charm I once possessed (if ever there was any).
Instead, I just feel grumpy. I spend my time thinking not about what I'm going to get so-and-so for Christmas, but when it's all going to be over and done with.
I've never been like this before.
I usually love Christmas – it's by far one of my favorite holidays. Besides the fact that the reason for the season is only equaled by the reason for the Easter season, I can't find a whole lot to be joyful about. And that makes me sad. Which makes me sink even deeper into the funk I'm already in.
We're planning on decorating the house this weekend, getting a tree, trimming it, setting out lights and other odds and ends, and altogether making merry. I hope that helps.
Because playing my favorite Christmas songs, new and old, hasn't worked so far. Sure, I sing along to "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" and "Silent Night" and all the old standards, but I do it grudgingly, with furrowed brow and pouty lips.
This is so out of character for me.
I want to enjoy the season, and all that comes with it, but I'm having a hard time even putting forth the effort to try.
Maybe this is just some wonky phase I'm passing through. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow with the words to "We Three Kings" on my lips and sing it like I mean it. Maybe not.
But until I break out of this mirthless malaise, this languorous lethargy, this yuletide yuckiness, it may be best to steer clear of me. I might be contagious...
(The preceding paragraph was brought to you by Thesaurus.com, your one-stop shop for free synonyms.)
Matter of fact, I'm feeling quite the opposite. Call it the Christmas blues, or holly jolly melancholy, or whatever you choose. I'm just not into the holiday spirit this year – at least not yet.
I don't know why, but I can't even seem to crack a smile. It just seems that nothing's all that funny. Or mirthful. Or amusing even. I've lost whatever degree of quirky charm I once possessed (if ever there was any).
Instead, I just feel grumpy. I spend my time thinking not about what I'm going to get so-and-so for Christmas, but when it's all going to be over and done with.
I've never been like this before.
I usually love Christmas – it's by far one of my favorite holidays. Besides the fact that the reason for the season is only equaled by the reason for the Easter season, I can't find a whole lot to be joyful about. And that makes me sad. Which makes me sink even deeper into the funk I'm already in.
We're planning on decorating the house this weekend, getting a tree, trimming it, setting out lights and other odds and ends, and altogether making merry. I hope that helps.
Because playing my favorite Christmas songs, new and old, hasn't worked so far. Sure, I sing along to "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" and "Silent Night" and all the old standards, but I do it grudgingly, with furrowed brow and pouty lips.
This is so out of character for me.
I want to enjoy the season, and all that comes with it, but I'm having a hard time even putting forth the effort to try.
Maybe this is just some wonky phase I'm passing through. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow with the words to "We Three Kings" on my lips and sing it like I mean it. Maybe not.
But until I break out of this mirthless malaise, this languorous lethargy, this yuletide yuckiness, it may be best to steer clear of me. I might be contagious...
(The preceding paragraph was brought to you by Thesaurus.com, your one-stop shop for free synonyms.)
Monday, October 31, 2011
10 Things I Learned From "Random Article"
God bless the Internet! There's a wealth of useful – as well as useless – information literally at your fingertips. While the useful information is why we all love to use the Internet, it's the useless stuff that you'd only ever come across online, much less learn about, that makes surfing the web the über-awesome pastime that it is.
Case in point: I decided that it would be interesting to click the "Random Article" tab on Wikipedia.org a number of times, just to see what weird and wonderful new knowledge I could acquire. So what if I may never be able to use any of this information in my daily life (other than sharing it with you here, that is). So what if the veracity of any and all articles on Wikipedia is questionable, or irrefutable, depending on whom you ask (all information on the site is user-generated). So what if I just wasted a half hour of my life I'll never get back. At least I had fun. And I learned a few things. And now, so will you...
1) The U.S.S. Pansy was a steamer acquired by the Union Navy from the Union Army during the American Civil War. The U.S.S. Pansy served the Navy as a tugboat and as a dispatch boat, and operated primarily out of Cairo, Illinois, and Vicksburg, Mississippi, under the command of Acting Ensign William Harris. Pansy served in, and supported, several blockades of the Confederate States of America, including the Union Army's Western Flotilla and the Union Navy's Mississippi Mortar Brigade.
What Have We Learned?
That even during the time of the Civil War, people came up with ridiculous names for their boats. What self-respecting sailor would ever own up to the fact that he served on the U.S.S. Pansy? I mean, really!
2) The Nicaraguan Constitutional Assembly Election of 1972 was held on February 6th that year. The Liberal Nationalist Party received 534,171 votes (75.33%) and the Conservative Party received 174,897 votes (24.67%). There were 970,792 registered voters in Nicaragua that year.
What Have We Learned?
That 261,724 Nicaraguan citizens were too lazy, too politically indifferent, or too busy listening to their Rolling Stones records to even bother with voting that year.
3) "Devil And The Deep" is a Paramount Pictures film released in 1932 starring Tallulah Bankhead, Gary Cooper, Charles Laughton, and Cary Grant. Laughton plays a naval commander named Charles Sturm whose jealousy makes life miserable for his wife, Diana (Bankhead). His suspicions fall over his own subordinate, Lieutenant Jaeckel (Grant). Although Storm's suspicions had no basis in reality, soon his obsessive behavior drives Diana into the arms of yet another officer, Lieutenant Sempter (Cooper). Learning of their affair, Sturm plots a terrible revenge.
What Have We Learned?
That unwarranted jealousy could lead to warranted jealousy which could lead to surreptitious plotting which could lead to initially-innocent-but-later-guilty people getting killed. Also, that the screenwriters for this film had an affinity for oddball character names. Along with Sturm, Jaeckel, and Sempter, other characters include Mrs. Planet, Mrs. Crimp, and Lt. Toll.
4) Waverveen is a small village in the Dutch province of Utrecht. It is located in the municipality of De Ronde Venen, 3 km west of Vinkeveen. Waverveen was a separate municipality until 1841, when it was merged with Vinkeveen to form the municipality of Vinkeveen en Waverveen. At last count, the population was 794 people.
What Have We Learned?
Dutch words and names look and sound weird.
5) Konstantin Ushkov (born August 2, 1977) is a retired butterfly swimmer from Russia, who won the silver medal at the 1996 Summer Olympics in freestyle relay. He also competed for Kyrgyzstan at the 2000 Summer Olympics.
What Have We Learned?
Some people are lucky enough to be able to retire by age 34.
6) The Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland was formed in 1893 and claims to be the spiritual descendant of the Scottish Reformation. It is sometimes colloquially known as the Wee Wee Frees (not to be confused with the "Wee Frees", which is the colloquial name for another offshoot of the Church of Scotland, the Free Church of Scotland).
What Have We Learned?
"Wee Wee Frees"??? #smh
7) Ecuadorian Sign Language (ESL) is the deaf sign language of Ecuador. ESL is a language isolate (a "prototype" sign language), though one developed through stimulus diffusion from an existing sign language, likely French Sign Language.
What Have We Learned?
Actually, not a darned thing. Seeing as I don't know what a "language isolate" is (do you?) or "stimulus diffusion" (how about that one?), I actually feel dumber now than I did before reading this.
8) Litoria moorei (common name: motorbike frog) is a species of frog that's well-known in Southwest Australia for its signature call which sounds like a motorbike changing up through gears. The Litoria moorei is a ground-dwelling tree frog which is able to camouflage itself well, ranging in color from dark brown, through to green and gold. Its underside is noticeably lighter, and usually ranges from very pale green to light brown.
What Have We Learned?
That "ground-dwelling tree frog" seems to be a misnomer. Why not just call them ground frogs, or simply frogs? Or, in the case of this motorin' amphibian, how about "Harley Davidson"?
9) A stemple is a form of wooden step used in mining, caving, and mountaineering, usually a wooden bar set between notches in rock walls for climbing purposes, often one of a series forming a ladder. If not well maintained, stemples can rot and should not always be trusted. The origin of the word is in the German "Stempel", meaning a stamp or prop.
What Have We Learned?
That stemples and Wikipedia have something in common – they should not always be trusted.
10) Guiseppe Gonzaga (March 20, 1690 - August 16, 1746) was the last Duke of Guastalla (now a part of Italy). The second son of Vincenzo Gonazaga, Duke of Guastalla and Maria Vittoria Gonzaga, Giuseppe was mentally handicapped. When his elder brother Duke Antonio Ferrante died in an accident in 1729, Guiseppe was the only remaining male member of the family, so he became Duke. Giuseppe would probably have never married, but when he became Duke, a marriage was arranged in 1731 with the 16-year-old Eleonore von Holstein (1715 – 1760), daughter of Duke Leopold of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Wiesenburg. The marriage remained childless.
What Have We Learned?
That a mentally handicapped man was made a Duke in the early 1700s because of his brother's accidental death – a title which he might never have attained otherwise, due to his handicap. No smart-alecky comments here – that's just straight-up interesting. And thought-provoking.
Now, why not take your own jaunt through the awesomeness that is "Random Article"? Happy Learning!
Case in point: I decided that it would be interesting to click the "Random Article" tab on Wikipedia.org a number of times, just to see what weird and wonderful new knowledge I could acquire. So what if I may never be able to use any of this information in my daily life (other than sharing it with you here, that is). So what if the veracity of any and all articles on Wikipedia is questionable, or irrefutable, depending on whom you ask (all information on the site is user-generated). So what if I just wasted a half hour of my life I'll never get back. At least I had fun. And I learned a few things. And now, so will you...
1) The U.S.S. Pansy was a steamer acquired by the Union Navy from the Union Army during the American Civil War. The U.S.S. Pansy served the Navy as a tugboat and as a dispatch boat, and operated primarily out of Cairo, Illinois, and Vicksburg, Mississippi, under the command of Acting Ensign William Harris. Pansy served in, and supported, several blockades of the Confederate States of America, including the Union Army's Western Flotilla and the Union Navy's Mississippi Mortar Brigade.
What Have We Learned?
That even during the time of the Civil War, people came up with ridiculous names for their boats. What self-respecting sailor would ever own up to the fact that he served on the U.S.S. Pansy? I mean, really!
2) The Nicaraguan Constitutional Assembly Election of 1972 was held on February 6th that year. The Liberal Nationalist Party received 534,171 votes (75.33%) and the Conservative Party received 174,897 votes (24.67%). There were 970,792 registered voters in Nicaragua that year.
What Have We Learned?
That 261,724 Nicaraguan citizens were too lazy, too politically indifferent, or too busy listening to their Rolling Stones records to even bother with voting that year.
3) "Devil And The Deep" is a Paramount Pictures film released in 1932 starring Tallulah Bankhead, Gary Cooper, Charles Laughton, and Cary Grant. Laughton plays a naval commander named Charles Sturm whose jealousy makes life miserable for his wife, Diana (Bankhead). His suspicions fall over his own subordinate, Lieutenant Jaeckel (Grant). Although Storm's suspicions had no basis in reality, soon his obsessive behavior drives Diana into the arms of yet another officer, Lieutenant Sempter (Cooper). Learning of their affair, Sturm plots a terrible revenge.
What Have We Learned?
That unwarranted jealousy could lead to warranted jealousy which could lead to surreptitious plotting which could lead to initially-innocent-but-later-guilty people getting killed. Also, that the screenwriters for this film had an affinity for oddball character names. Along with Sturm, Jaeckel, and Sempter, other characters include Mrs. Planet, Mrs. Crimp, and Lt. Toll.
4) Waverveen is a small village in the Dutch province of Utrecht. It is located in the municipality of De Ronde Venen, 3 km west of Vinkeveen. Waverveen was a separate municipality until 1841, when it was merged with Vinkeveen to form the municipality of Vinkeveen en Waverveen. At last count, the population was 794 people.
What Have We Learned?
Dutch words and names look and sound weird.
5) Konstantin Ushkov (born August 2, 1977) is a retired butterfly swimmer from Russia, who won the silver medal at the 1996 Summer Olympics in freestyle relay. He also competed for Kyrgyzstan at the 2000 Summer Olympics.
What Have We Learned?
Some people are lucky enough to be able to retire by age 34.
6) The Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland was formed in 1893 and claims to be the spiritual descendant of the Scottish Reformation. It is sometimes colloquially known as the Wee Wee Frees (not to be confused with the "Wee Frees", which is the colloquial name for another offshoot of the Church of Scotland, the Free Church of Scotland).
What Have We Learned?
"Wee Wee Frees"??? #smh
7) Ecuadorian Sign Language (ESL) is the deaf sign language of Ecuador. ESL is a language isolate (a "prototype" sign language), though one developed through stimulus diffusion from an existing sign language, likely French Sign Language.
What Have We Learned?
Actually, not a darned thing. Seeing as I don't know what a "language isolate" is (do you?) or "stimulus diffusion" (how about that one?), I actually feel dumber now than I did before reading this.
8) Litoria moorei (common name: motorbike frog) is a species of frog that's well-known in Southwest Australia for its signature call which sounds like a motorbike changing up through gears. The Litoria moorei is a ground-dwelling tree frog which is able to camouflage itself well, ranging in color from dark brown, through to green and gold. Its underside is noticeably lighter, and usually ranges from very pale green to light brown.
What Have We Learned?
That "ground-dwelling tree frog" seems to be a misnomer. Why not just call them ground frogs, or simply frogs? Or, in the case of this motorin' amphibian, how about "Harley Davidson"?
9) A stemple is a form of wooden step used in mining, caving, and mountaineering, usually a wooden bar set between notches in rock walls for climbing purposes, often one of a series forming a ladder. If not well maintained, stemples can rot and should not always be trusted. The origin of the word is in the German "Stempel", meaning a stamp or prop.
What Have We Learned?
That stemples and Wikipedia have something in common – they should not always be trusted.
10) Guiseppe Gonzaga (March 20, 1690 - August 16, 1746) was the last Duke of Guastalla (now a part of Italy). The second son of Vincenzo Gonazaga, Duke of Guastalla and Maria Vittoria Gonzaga, Giuseppe was mentally handicapped. When his elder brother Duke Antonio Ferrante died in an accident in 1729, Guiseppe was the only remaining male member of the family, so he became Duke. Giuseppe would probably have never married, but when he became Duke, a marriage was arranged in 1731 with the 16-year-old Eleonore von Holstein (1715 – 1760), daughter of Duke Leopold of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Wiesenburg. The marriage remained childless.
What Have We Learned?
That a mentally handicapped man was made a Duke in the early 1700s because of his brother's accidental death – a title which he might never have attained otherwise, due to his handicap. No smart-alecky comments here – that's just straight-up interesting. And thought-provoking.
Now, why not take your own jaunt through the awesomeness that is "Random Article"? Happy Learning!
Not All Music Is Garbage!: A Few Overlooked Gems Amid A Sea Of Mediocrity
There are two things I hate about the music industry:
• That so many artists get lots of attention that they don't deserve.
• That so many artists don't get lots of attention who do deserve it.
It's that second group – the undiscovered or overlooked gems amid a sea of mediocrity – that I want to focus on here. I will concede, to begin with, that all music is extremely relative. What I love, you may hate. What you adore, I may despise. But this is my blog, and it's not my job to decide what you like, only to share with you what I like.
I should also mention, in case you miss the obvious, that I tend to enjoy listening to female singers more than males. Always have, probably always will. That being said, here are 10 of my favorite "gems", in no particular order...Enjoy!
1) Zee Avi – "Bitter Heart"
2) Lucy Schwartz – "Life In Letters"
3) Kina Grannis – "Valentine"
4) Maia Hirasawa – "Gothenburg"
5) Meaghan Smith – "I Know"
6) Meiko – "Under My Bed"
7) Priscilla Ahn – "Dream"
9) Sophie Madeleine – "Take Your Love With Me"
10) Stacy Clark – "Not Enough"
• That so many artists get lots of attention that they don't deserve.
• That so many artists don't get lots of attention who do deserve it.
It's that second group – the undiscovered or overlooked gems amid a sea of mediocrity – that I want to focus on here. I will concede, to begin with, that all music is extremely relative. What I love, you may hate. What you adore, I may despise. But this is my blog, and it's not my job to decide what you like, only to share with you what I like.
I should also mention, in case you miss the obvious, that I tend to enjoy listening to female singers more than males. Always have, probably always will. That being said, here are 10 of my favorite "gems", in no particular order...Enjoy!
1) Zee Avi – "Bitter Heart"
2) Lucy Schwartz – "Life In Letters"
4) Maia Hirasawa – "Gothenburg"
5) Meaghan Smith – "I Know"
6) Meiko – "Under My Bed"
7) Priscilla Ahn – "Dream"
8) Corinne Bailey Rae – "Like A Star"
9) Sophie Madeleine – "Take Your Love With Me"
10) Stacy Clark – "Not Enough"
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Ties That Bind
Today I wore a tie for the third time this month.
I should preface this by saying that I am not a fan of wearing ties, or even of dressing up in general. But sometimes the situation or the occasion calls for it, and I, mostly not grudgingly, will comply.
The first time I donned a tie this month was for my sister-in-law's wedding. I had been asked to say a prayer for the happy couple during the ceremony. Not being officially part of the wedding party, I hadn't been instructed to wear any particular type of outfit, but a dress shirt and pants and a tie seemed appropriate, so that's what I wore. All in all, it went well. My prayer was scripted – I don't really do improv that well – but they seemed to like it. Not that I was saying it to them, but still...
The second time I was all tied up was two weeks later for our church's Night of Drama production. I was acting in one of the mini-plays – it was a live radio drama – and I was the Narrator. Since I was also the director of that particular play, I could have told myself to wear whatever I wanted, but it was a significant role, and somewhat a central character, so I figured I'd go all out and put on the old tie again (same one as the wedding two weeks prior, by the way). For the second time, I'd worn a tie for an event that brought people together as a family. That's how we think of ourselves, us drama folk. We're somewhat of a breed apart, I guess you could say. But we understand each other.
Today I wore a tie for the third and final time this month. The occasion was undoubtedly the least joyous of the trio, and yet it was the most joyous. I was attending the funeral of a 7-year old little girl who, after two brave years of fighting a vicious brain tumor, had lost the battle. I can hear you asking the question right now: how on earth could this be a joyous occasion? Good question. Short answer: It can't. On earth, that is. Lydia Byrd's family and friends will never again see her as she was in this life. But they will see her again – those who believe as she believed, at least – in the life to come, which is everlasting. Sweet Lydia is waiting there for our arrival. But she isn't missing us, not like we're missing her at least. She's got Jesus by her side. Today was a celebration of her life, and we cried together, we smiled because of who she was, and we rejoiced for her reunion with her Maker. And again, this was an occasion that brought together a disparate group of people as a family.
Today I didn't mind wearing that tie.
I should preface this by saying that I am not a fan of wearing ties, or even of dressing up in general. But sometimes the situation or the occasion calls for it, and I, mostly not grudgingly, will comply.
The first time I donned a tie this month was for my sister-in-law's wedding. I had been asked to say a prayer for the happy couple during the ceremony. Not being officially part of the wedding party, I hadn't been instructed to wear any particular type of outfit, but a dress shirt and pants and a tie seemed appropriate, so that's what I wore. All in all, it went well. My prayer was scripted – I don't really do improv that well – but they seemed to like it. Not that I was saying it to them, but still...
The second time I was all tied up was two weeks later for our church's Night of Drama production. I was acting in one of the mini-plays – it was a live radio drama – and I was the Narrator. Since I was also the director of that particular play, I could have told myself to wear whatever I wanted, but it was a significant role, and somewhat a central character, so I figured I'd go all out and put on the old tie again (same one as the wedding two weeks prior, by the way). For the second time, I'd worn a tie for an event that brought people together as a family. That's how we think of ourselves, us drama folk. We're somewhat of a breed apart, I guess you could say. But we understand each other.
Today I wore a tie for the third and final time this month. The occasion was undoubtedly the least joyous of the trio, and yet it was the most joyous. I was attending the funeral of a 7-year old little girl who, after two brave years of fighting a vicious brain tumor, had lost the battle. I can hear you asking the question right now: how on earth could this be a joyous occasion? Good question. Short answer: It can't. On earth, that is. Lydia Byrd's family and friends will never again see her as she was in this life. But they will see her again – those who believe as she believed, at least – in the life to come, which is everlasting. Sweet Lydia is waiting there for our arrival. But she isn't missing us, not like we're missing her at least. She's got Jesus by her side. Today was a celebration of her life, and we cried together, we smiled because of who she was, and we rejoiced for her reunion with her Maker. And again, this was an occasion that brought together a disparate group of people as a family.
Today I didn't mind wearing that tie.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Personal Reflections On Dead Celebrities: 2011 Edition
With half of the year already gone, I thought I might take a few moments to reflect on the lives of a few famous people who have passed away so far this year. With apologies (though apologies are unnecessary for the dead) to Betty Ford, Jack Kevorkian, Sidney Lumet, Jackie Cooper, and other notables among the recently departed, here they are, in no particular order.
1) Peter Falk: Perhaps best known for his recurring role as the highly skilled but laid-back detective Lieutenant Columbo, I will always remember him as Fred Savage's "Grandpa" in The Princess Bride. Nobody could spin a good yarn like Grandpa, and at the end of the film, he had you wondering if he wasn't somehow part of the story itself. A skilled actor at comedy as well as drama, Falk was a five-time Emmy award winner. He was 83 years old.
2) Jeff Conaway: Many people know Conaway from his role as John Travolta's sidekick "Kenickie" in Grease. He was also a series regular on both Taxi and Babylon 5, among many other credits. Always a decent actor, but never a great one, his life began spiraling out of control when he became addicted to cocaine, alcohol, and painkillers. After multiple attempts at rehab, including as a "cast member" of the reality show Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, Conaway's often-abused body gave out on him. A bout of pneumonia, not a drug overdose as was originally reported, was the final blow. I watched a very frail, very different Conaway on "Celebrity Rehab" in the latter throes of his devolution. It was sad to see that a once-proud, successful actor had become a pitiful, weepy, angry mess. He was 60 years old.
3) Harmon Killebrew: Greatest Minnesota Twin ever? Perhaps. Before Kirby Puckett, before Justin Morneau, and before Joe Mauer, there was Killebrew. Over a 22-year major league baseball career with the Washington Senators, Minnesota Twins, and Kansas City Royals, Killebrew slugged 573 home runs, good for 11th all-time. His heroic battle against esophageal cancer ended earlier this year. He was 74 years old.
4) Osama bin Laden: A hero to some, perhaps, but the villain to end all villains to most. The mastermind behind the September 11th attacks, after successfully evading U.S. capture for nearly 10 years, was finally taken down in his own compound in western Pakistan and killed by U.S. special forces. Few mourn his loss, and many rejoice. He was 54 years old.
5) Elizabeth Taylor: In her later years, Taylor was most well-known for her line of perfumes, her friendship with Michael Jackson, and for the tabloids' endless obsession with her every move. In her prime, Taylor was one of the most glamorous women ever to grace the silver screen, and a great talent in her own right. My earliest and fondest memories of her work lie in one of her earliest films, as "Velvet Brown" in National Velvet. A charming family film even 67 years after its initial release, Taylor's charm and ease at being on camera were self-evident. America fell in love with her, and they always would. After surviving numerous life-threatening illnesses, Taylor finally succumbed to heart failure at the age of 79.
6) Michael Gough: This highly accomplished British character actor appeared in 150-plus films spanning over 60 years, but is best known to modern audiences for his role as Bruce Wayne's butler, assistant, confidant, and surrogate father figure "Alfred Pennyworth" in four Batman films throughout the late-1980's, 1990's, and 2000's. Gough was 94 years old.
7) Nate Dogg: One of my earliest exposures to rap music was the song "Regulate" by Warren G. and Nate Dogg. Looking back, it wasn't that great of a song, lyrically speaking. In fact, it was slightly horrible (read: morally reprehensible) – which is why I didn't link the video here. But musically and artistically, I found it brilliant, and that song among others, got me interested in rap. I eventually stopped listening to secular rap (see previous post), but my early interest in the genre eventually led me to discovering Christian rap, which has become one of my favorite types of music to listen to. He was 41 years old.
8) Jane Russell: A leading "sex symbol" in Hollywood in the 1940's and 1950's, Russell made an instant splash in her first film, The Outlaw. Over the next 40 years, she would appear in only 20 or so more films, but her enduring legacy might very well be – and current Hollywood ingenues should take note – that you CAN be truly beautiful without having hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery. She was 89 years old.
9) Pete Postlethwaite: A veteran character actor, Postlethwaite seemed to be a magnet for blockbuster movies throughout the 1990's and 2000's, turning in memorable performances in such smash hits as The Lost World: Jurassic Park, The Usual Suspects, Alien 3, and Amistad. After surviving testicular cancer in 1990, Postlethwaite was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2010 and passed away early this year. He was 64 years old.
10) Googie Withers: OK, I'll admit it. I picked Googie Withers out of a list of dead celebrities strictly for her wonderfully ridiculous name. But as it turns out, I was at least peripherally familiar with her work, having seen her in the 1945 horror anthology film Dead of Night. Though I don't specifically remember her role, or whether she was any good in it, suffice it to say that she enjoyed a long career as an actress, both in the UK and in Hollywood. Googie lived to the ripe old age of 94 years.
11) Laura Ziskin: Credited with producing several highly successful films in recent years, including Spiderman, Spiderman 2, As Good As It Gets, and Pretty Woman, Ziskin gained most of her notoriety for her direct role in founding the Stand Up To Cancer initiative in 2008. SU2C enables cutting-edge research, targeting all types of cancer, including breast, prostate, skin, brain, colon, and cervical cancer. Ziskin herself was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer in 2004, a disease doctors has repeatedly missed previously because of the diffuse type of cancer she had. Breast cancer claimed Ziskin's life too soon at the age of 61.
12) Lilian Jackson Braun: Author of over 30 light-hearted mysteries in her The Cat Who... series, Braun crafted happy – if slightly low-brow – tales in which her secondary hero, Jim Qwilleran, and the real stars of the show, his Siamese cats Koko and Yum-Yum solve mysteries. Many, many years after the invention and widespread use of word processors and personal computers, Braun – an admitted technophobe – continued to write her novels on a traditional typewriter, a fact very much in keeping with her old-school style of writing. She was 97 years old.
13) Duke Snider: Snider was a baseball star years before I was even born. But I've often heard my dad speak of him fondly, even though my dad was a die-hard Yankees fan, and Snider played for the Brooklyn – and then Los Angeles – Dodgers, a Yankees rival. In an era where Mantle and Mays were king, Snider was at least the crown prince. He was 84 years old.
14) Ferlin Husky: One of country-and-western's earliest stars, Husky was and is well-known among aficionados of the more traditional style of country music. Several years ago, I somehow ran across Husky's name and didn't know anything about him, but thought that his utterly ludicrous name would be a perfect match for the customizable player that I planned to create on my computer baseball game. As it turns out, this alternate Ferlin Husky was an exceptionally good ballplayer. And as it turns out, the real Ferlin Husky was a really good singer. Apparently, he also had a great laugh. He died of congestive heart failure earlier this year at 85 years old.
15) Roberts Blossom: One of my favorite movies growing up had to be "Home Alone." And besides that plucky tow-headed kid who bested those bad burglars, the most memorable character from that film has to be "Old Man Marley", portrayed by Roberts Blossom. This quirky character actor didn't hit his stride in show business until he was already middle-aged. But once he did, he found steady work in roles as the resident oddball, and was quite adept in them. True, "Home Alone" is low-brow humor and would hardly be an actor's first choice as a "claim to fame", but the best, most poignant moments in the film are with Blossom and Macaulay Culkin in the church scene. It just doesn't get any better than that. Well, at least when you're twelve years old, it doesn't. Blossom was 87 years old at the time of his death.
16) Amy Winehouse: This tremendously talented yet tremendously troubled singer-songwriter with the unmistakably smoky voice brought to pop music a style that fused jazz and Motown – often dubbed "Neo-Soul" – paving the road to success for other promising young UK artists like Adele, Florence + The Machine, and Lily Allen. Sadly, Winehouse was never able to successfully battle her demons of alcohol and drug addiction, and became the latest member of the "27 Club" – which includes Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, among others – an infamous group of influential musicians who all died tragically at the age of 27.
***************************************************
Sources: Wikipedia.org and other random places on the internet.
1) Peter Falk: Perhaps best known for his recurring role as the highly skilled but laid-back detective Lieutenant Columbo, I will always remember him as Fred Savage's "Grandpa" in The Princess Bride. Nobody could spin a good yarn like Grandpa, and at the end of the film, he had you wondering if he wasn't somehow part of the story itself. A skilled actor at comedy as well as drama, Falk was a five-time Emmy award winner. He was 83 years old.
2) Jeff Conaway: Many people know Conaway from his role as John Travolta's sidekick "Kenickie" in Grease. He was also a series regular on both Taxi and Babylon 5, among many other credits. Always a decent actor, but never a great one, his life began spiraling out of control when he became addicted to cocaine, alcohol, and painkillers. After multiple attempts at rehab, including as a "cast member" of the reality show Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, Conaway's often-abused body gave out on him. A bout of pneumonia, not a drug overdose as was originally reported, was the final blow. I watched a very frail, very different Conaway on "Celebrity Rehab" in the latter throes of his devolution. It was sad to see that a once-proud, successful actor had become a pitiful, weepy, angry mess. He was 60 years old.
3) Harmon Killebrew: Greatest Minnesota Twin ever? Perhaps. Before Kirby Puckett, before Justin Morneau, and before Joe Mauer, there was Killebrew. Over a 22-year major league baseball career with the Washington Senators, Minnesota Twins, and Kansas City Royals, Killebrew slugged 573 home runs, good for 11th all-time. His heroic battle against esophageal cancer ended earlier this year. He was 74 years old.
4) Osama bin Laden: A hero to some, perhaps, but the villain to end all villains to most. The mastermind behind the September 11th attacks, after successfully evading U.S. capture for nearly 10 years, was finally taken down in his own compound in western Pakistan and killed by U.S. special forces. Few mourn his loss, and many rejoice. He was 54 years old.
5) Elizabeth Taylor: In her later years, Taylor was most well-known for her line of perfumes, her friendship with Michael Jackson, and for the tabloids' endless obsession with her every move. In her prime, Taylor was one of the most glamorous women ever to grace the silver screen, and a great talent in her own right. My earliest and fondest memories of her work lie in one of her earliest films, as "Velvet Brown" in National Velvet. A charming family film even 67 years after its initial release, Taylor's charm and ease at being on camera were self-evident. America fell in love with her, and they always would. After surviving numerous life-threatening illnesses, Taylor finally succumbed to heart failure at the age of 79.
6) Michael Gough: This highly accomplished British character actor appeared in 150-plus films spanning over 60 years, but is best known to modern audiences for his role as Bruce Wayne's butler, assistant, confidant, and surrogate father figure "Alfred Pennyworth" in four Batman films throughout the late-1980's, 1990's, and 2000's. Gough was 94 years old.
7) Nate Dogg: One of my earliest exposures to rap music was the song "Regulate" by Warren G. and Nate Dogg. Looking back, it wasn't that great of a song, lyrically speaking. In fact, it was slightly horrible (read: morally reprehensible) – which is why I didn't link the video here. But musically and artistically, I found it brilliant, and that song among others, got me interested in rap. I eventually stopped listening to secular rap (see previous post), but my early interest in the genre eventually led me to discovering Christian rap, which has become one of my favorite types of music to listen to. He was 41 years old.
8) Jane Russell: A leading "sex symbol" in Hollywood in the 1940's and 1950's, Russell made an instant splash in her first film, The Outlaw. Over the next 40 years, she would appear in only 20 or so more films, but her enduring legacy might very well be – and current Hollywood ingenues should take note – that you CAN be truly beautiful without having hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery. She was 89 years old.
9) Pete Postlethwaite: A veteran character actor, Postlethwaite seemed to be a magnet for blockbuster movies throughout the 1990's and 2000's, turning in memorable performances in such smash hits as The Lost World: Jurassic Park, The Usual Suspects, Alien 3, and Amistad. After surviving testicular cancer in 1990, Postlethwaite was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2010 and passed away early this year. He was 64 years old.
10) Googie Withers: OK, I'll admit it. I picked Googie Withers out of a list of dead celebrities strictly for her wonderfully ridiculous name. But as it turns out, I was at least peripherally familiar with her work, having seen her in the 1945 horror anthology film Dead of Night. Though I don't specifically remember her role, or whether she was any good in it, suffice it to say that she enjoyed a long career as an actress, both in the UK and in Hollywood. Googie lived to the ripe old age of 94 years.
11) Laura Ziskin: Credited with producing several highly successful films in recent years, including Spiderman, Spiderman 2, As Good As It Gets, and Pretty Woman, Ziskin gained most of her notoriety for her direct role in founding the Stand Up To Cancer initiative in 2008. SU2C enables cutting-edge research, targeting all types of cancer, including breast, prostate, skin, brain, colon, and cervical cancer. Ziskin herself was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer in 2004, a disease doctors has repeatedly missed previously because of the diffuse type of cancer she had. Breast cancer claimed Ziskin's life too soon at the age of 61.
12) Lilian Jackson Braun: Author of over 30 light-hearted mysteries in her The Cat Who... series, Braun crafted happy – if slightly low-brow – tales in which her secondary hero, Jim Qwilleran, and the real stars of the show, his Siamese cats Koko and Yum-Yum solve mysteries. Many, many years after the invention and widespread use of word processors and personal computers, Braun – an admitted technophobe – continued to write her novels on a traditional typewriter, a fact very much in keeping with her old-school style of writing. She was 97 years old.
13) Duke Snider: Snider was a baseball star years before I was even born. But I've often heard my dad speak of him fondly, even though my dad was a die-hard Yankees fan, and Snider played for the Brooklyn – and then Los Angeles – Dodgers, a Yankees rival. In an era where Mantle and Mays were king, Snider was at least the crown prince. He was 84 years old.
14) Ferlin Husky: One of country-and-western's earliest stars, Husky was and is well-known among aficionados of the more traditional style of country music. Several years ago, I somehow ran across Husky's name and didn't know anything about him, but thought that his utterly ludicrous name would be a perfect match for the customizable player that I planned to create on my computer baseball game. As it turns out, this alternate Ferlin Husky was an exceptionally good ballplayer. And as it turns out, the real Ferlin Husky was a really good singer. Apparently, he also had a great laugh. He died of congestive heart failure earlier this year at 85 years old.
15) Roberts Blossom: One of my favorite movies growing up had to be "Home Alone." And besides that plucky tow-headed kid who bested those bad burglars, the most memorable character from that film has to be "Old Man Marley", portrayed by Roberts Blossom. This quirky character actor didn't hit his stride in show business until he was already middle-aged. But once he did, he found steady work in roles as the resident oddball, and was quite adept in them. True, "Home Alone" is low-brow humor and would hardly be an actor's first choice as a "claim to fame", but the best, most poignant moments in the film are with Blossom and Macaulay Culkin in the church scene. It just doesn't get any better than that. Well, at least when you're twelve years old, it doesn't. Blossom was 87 years old at the time of his death.
16) Amy Winehouse: This tremendously talented yet tremendously troubled singer-songwriter with the unmistakably smoky voice brought to pop music a style that fused jazz and Motown – often dubbed "Neo-Soul" – paving the road to success for other promising young UK artists like Adele, Florence + The Machine, and Lily Allen. Sadly, Winehouse was never able to successfully battle her demons of alcohol and drug addiction, and became the latest member of the "27 Club" – which includes Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, among others – an infamous group of influential musicians who all died tragically at the age of 27.
***************************************************
Sources: Wikipedia.org and other random places on the internet.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Back (But Not Necessarily) By Popular Demand
So, it's been awhile since I've written anything here, and guess what? The world didn't end. It didn't even pause.
There really hasn't been a whole lot to write about in the month-plus interim. Let me see if I can summarize it quickly.
A couple of weeks ago, decked out in full Wild West attire, I robbed a bank and tied up the slow-witted sheriff and his dopey deputy in the middle of Main Street. Later, I came to my senses and returned the stolen money and turned myself in. It was definitely a learning experience.
OK, what else? I finally narrowed down the list of potential skit scripts for our fall drama to five and submitted those to the pastors, but they've been swamped with other stuff and haven't gotten a chance to look through and/or decide on those yet.
Let's see, there was something else, right? Oh yeah, I floated in a lake in Virginia and didn't drown, but also didn't swim, because I'm not too good at that. On that same trip, our boat almost sank in the middle of the lake before it came to its senses and decided that it would rather float too than sink, for which I was much appreciative.
What else? I finished reading a few books I'd been working on for awhile. A couple of play script books, a few teen fiction titles, and a gruesome true crime book which was rather enjoyable.
Um, let's see...I finished writing apparel copy for both the Fall Master Catalog and the Apparel Specialty Catalog at work. Neither of those was much fun, as I had considerably more work to do in less time than was realistically possible. But with a lot of help from my co-workers and several liters of Mt. Dew, Dr. Pepper, and mediocre coffee, all the deadlines were met and I'm officially breathing a bit easier.
What else? Oh yeah, I was struck by lightning and now I'm able to see the future. But I can only see fifteen minutes into the future, which doesn't really come in handy at all. Wait...maybe that wasn't me. No, that was definitely some TV show or movie or something. I wasn't struck by lightning at all.
Anything else? Hmm, I can't think of anything. Well, this was a pretty boring post. What a complete waste of your time! I'm sorry about that. Next time, I'll try to have something interesting to say.
Carry on.
There really hasn't been a whole lot to write about in the month-plus interim. Let me see if I can summarize it quickly.
A couple of weeks ago, decked out in full Wild West attire, I robbed a bank and tied up the slow-witted sheriff and his dopey deputy in the middle of Main Street. Later, I came to my senses and returned the stolen money and turned myself in. It was definitely a learning experience.
OK, what else? I finally narrowed down the list of potential skit scripts for our fall drama to five and submitted those to the pastors, but they've been swamped with other stuff and haven't gotten a chance to look through and/or decide on those yet.
Let's see, there was something else, right? Oh yeah, I floated in a lake in Virginia and didn't drown, but also didn't swim, because I'm not too good at that. On that same trip, our boat almost sank in the middle of the lake before it came to its senses and decided that it would rather float too than sink, for which I was much appreciative.
What else? I finished reading a few books I'd been working on for awhile. A couple of play script books, a few teen fiction titles, and a gruesome true crime book which was rather enjoyable.
Um, let's see...I finished writing apparel copy for both the Fall Master Catalog and the Apparel Specialty Catalog at work. Neither of those was much fun, as I had considerably more work to do in less time than was realistically possible. But with a lot of help from my co-workers and several liters of Mt. Dew, Dr. Pepper, and mediocre coffee, all the deadlines were met and I'm officially breathing a bit easier.
What else? Oh yeah, I was struck by lightning and now I'm able to see the future. But I can only see fifteen minutes into the future, which doesn't really come in handy at all. Wait...maybe that wasn't me. No, that was definitely some TV show or movie or something. I wasn't struck by lightning at all.
Anything else? Hmm, I can't think of anything. Well, this was a pretty boring post. What a complete waste of your time! I'm sorry about that. Next time, I'll try to have something interesting to say.
Carry on.
Friday, June 3, 2011
To You, Who Stole My Lunch
I'm sure you'll never read this. You don't even know who I am, and I don't know you. I caught a quick glimpse of you as I was entering the break room, when you were exiting with your Pretzel Bread Lean Pocket. I thought, how curious, someone else at work today brought the exact same thing I did for lunch. Then, upon looking in the freezer to grab my Lean Pocket and heat it up, I find that it's nowhere to be found. Not where I put it, not anywhere. I do a double-take, then a triple-take in the direction of the lady who just left. That wasn't her Pretzel Bread Lean Pocket; it was mine!
A plethora of emotions rush through me: anger, confusion, frustration, disappointment, and the like. I'm angry because that lady just stole my lunch. Confused as to why, of all the frozen dinners in the freezer, she would decide to take mine – did it really look that appealing? Frustrated that now I have to go back upstairs to my office (across the building, I might add), get some money out of my wallet, and traipse back to the break room to buy something else for lunch. Disappointed because, as paranoid as I can sometimes be, I do think of myself as a trusting person. I like to think that most people, given the chance, will do the right thing more often than they will do the wrong thing. But I am wrong. I often am in this respect.
Couple this Friday fiasco with the fact that this week alone we have had a power window on our van to cease functioning, leaving our driver's side window – at least temporarily – ever-ready for drive-thru ordering; we have both had more than our share of pressures at work of late (me because of pending deadlines which seem insurmountable, and Mary because it's almost the end of the school year, and that's always a crazy time); neither of us is sleeping well or enough for various reasons, not the least of which is stress; and oh, did I mention, our other car's brakes and air-conditioning are also on the way out. (We really need to invest some money into decent transportation.) So, needless to say, this heisted Lean Pocket incident was not the impetus for the aforementioned emotion rush so much as it was the proverbial camel's-back-breaking straw. But I digress.
Back to you, lady, the one who took my Lean Pocket. I don't what your reasons might have been. Maybe you were hungry and you didn't have any money for food (although it is payday Friday). Maybe you forgot to bring your lunch this morning and it was an opportunistic thievery. Or maybe you're just a mean person who likes to do mean things to people you don't even know. I don't know.
If you really wanted my lunch, or if you really needed it, I would have gladly given it to you, even though I have no clue who you are. But please ask me next time, don't just take it. That's just incredibly rude!
ADDENDUM: To you, who pulled half in and half out of the turn lane on Evans and 10th around 1:30 this afternoon, holding up traffic in my lane for what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, probably no more than a minute at most: I'm sorry I called you an idiot. You may or may not have deserved it, but I didn't need to say it. That was incredibly rude, too. I apologize.
A plethora of emotions rush through me: anger, confusion, frustration, disappointment, and the like. I'm angry because that lady just stole my lunch. Confused as to why, of all the frozen dinners in the freezer, she would decide to take mine – did it really look that appealing? Frustrated that now I have to go back upstairs to my office (across the building, I might add), get some money out of my wallet, and traipse back to the break room to buy something else for lunch. Disappointed because, as paranoid as I can sometimes be, I do think of myself as a trusting person. I like to think that most people, given the chance, will do the right thing more often than they will do the wrong thing. But I am wrong. I often am in this respect.
Couple this Friday fiasco with the fact that this week alone we have had a power window on our van to cease functioning, leaving our driver's side window – at least temporarily – ever-ready for drive-thru ordering; we have both had more than our share of pressures at work of late (me because of pending deadlines which seem insurmountable, and Mary because it's almost the end of the school year, and that's always a crazy time); neither of us is sleeping well or enough for various reasons, not the least of which is stress; and oh, did I mention, our other car's brakes and air-conditioning are also on the way out. (We really need to invest some money into decent transportation.) So, needless to say, this heisted Lean Pocket incident was not the impetus for the aforementioned emotion rush so much as it was the proverbial camel's-back-breaking straw. But I digress.
Back to you, lady, the one who took my Lean Pocket. I don't what your reasons might have been. Maybe you were hungry and you didn't have any money for food (although it is payday Friday). Maybe you forgot to bring your lunch this morning and it was an opportunistic thievery. Or maybe you're just a mean person who likes to do mean things to people you don't even know. I don't know.
If you really wanted my lunch, or if you really needed it, I would have gladly given it to you, even though I have no clue who you are. But please ask me next time, don't just take it. That's just incredibly rude!
ADDENDUM: To you, who pulled half in and half out of the turn lane on Evans and 10th around 1:30 this afternoon, holding up traffic in my lane for what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, probably no more than a minute at most: I'm sorry I called you an idiot. You may or may not have deserved it, but I didn't need to say it. That was incredibly rude, too. I apologize.
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