The news today is filled with stories that are mostly frustrating and flabbergasting.
Locally, a high-profile group is about to fill an equally high-profile position with an individual who is not-yet certified for the position. The search to fill this position has appeared tainted from the start, which only serves to add to the impression that the members of this high-profile group are somewhat lacking in common sense and a sense of public stewardship.
The public cannot be surprised by this story.
Another local story profiles a publicly-held business whose bottom line seems more connected to the depths of local quarries than profits in any economically acceptable range. The leaders of this business have displayed the all-too-common traits associated with the me-first mantra heralded on Wall Street as of late.
Shame on them.
Another story that is capturing headlines these days details an online business that specializes in finding love interests for married people. The founder of this business portrays himself and his business as providing a 'safe' service for subscribers. He is unapologetic about his dating service's capability to act as a destructive element in marriages and families.
He says he can explain what he does for a living to his young children.
Right.
Now for the good news.
What an uplifting story about a local young man who suffered a recent spinal injury and is fighting back with all the strength and determination he can muster! His story will inspire many more people, young and old, than any of the adults alluded to in the previous paragraphs. He is truly a giant among us all.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Definably Related?
There are many pairs of words in our English language that appear so similar the reader has to look very carefully to ascertain the difference. A pair that came to my attention recently are Calvary and cavalry.
Curiously, word pairs seem to fall into one of two categories: Synonyms or antonyms. Calvary and cavalry, at first glance, may seem very dissimilar, but, after some morning reflection, I believe that a strong case can be made for a connection between the two words.
"Send in the cavalry!"
We've all heard this statement, often uttered in one of two ways: An urgent plea for help and assistance - usually related to a job-related disaster looming largely on the horizon; or, as in "I'll send in the cavalry" - usually associated with the same job-related disaster but the offer comes from someone observing the crash and burn about to happen. A hundred and fifty years or so ago, sending in the cavalry meant safety and security - depending on which end of the canyon you were located in.
Which brings me to Calvary.
In days of yore, when the Wild West was being won (or taken, depending on your viewpoint) AND today, if the cavalry doesn't arrive in time, Calvary may be right around the corner. Both are nouns that are symbols of safety and security. Bringing in the cavalry denotes responsibility, leadership, loyalty, faithfulness to a cause or group. Calvary signifies love, self-sacrifice, devotion, forgiveness and humility. Occasionally, you will hear a reader stumble over one of these words, accidentally mispronouncing one for the other.
Consider that these two words are more interchangeable than ever before imagined.
If we reach Calvary, is it because the cavalry rescued us?
Ancora imparo
Curiously, word pairs seem to fall into one of two categories: Synonyms or antonyms. Calvary and cavalry, at first glance, may seem very dissimilar, but, after some morning reflection, I believe that a strong case can be made for a connection between the two words.
"Send in the cavalry!"
We've all heard this statement, often uttered in one of two ways: An urgent plea for help and assistance - usually related to a job-related disaster looming largely on the horizon; or, as in "I'll send in the cavalry" - usually associated with the same job-related disaster but the offer comes from someone observing the crash and burn about to happen. A hundred and fifty years or so ago, sending in the cavalry meant safety and security - depending on which end of the canyon you were located in.
Which brings me to Calvary.
In days of yore, when the Wild West was being won (or taken, depending on your viewpoint) AND today, if the cavalry doesn't arrive in time, Calvary may be right around the corner. Both are nouns that are symbols of safety and security. Bringing in the cavalry denotes responsibility, leadership, loyalty, faithfulness to a cause or group. Calvary signifies love, self-sacrifice, devotion, forgiveness and humility. Occasionally, you will hear a reader stumble over one of these words, accidentally mispronouncing one for the other.
Consider that these two words are more interchangeable than ever before imagined.
If we reach Calvary, is it because the cavalry rescued us?
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The Benefits of Procrastination
Procrastination is highly undervalued in our society.
Unlike our financial nest eggs and investment, procrastination is about the only process these days that is collecting or growing anything.
For example, consider the act of procrastinating about doing the laundry.... or dishes, for that matter. The piles grow and grow, at a rate of return that would make the Federal Reserve green with envy and envy is the only green that banks are growing today.
If I procrastinate about cleaning my residence, I can increase the number of hours I have spent reading books or magazines.
Procrastination of pulling weeds and other noxious plants results in fewer sore backs for most of us.
Procrastination has resulted in great literary compositions. One of my favorite books, Gone With the Wind, saluted procrastination in its final scene. Scarlett O'Hara gave the herald call of all procrastinators when she uttered the words, "After all, tomorrow is another day."
So, here's saving all that can be saved for another day!
Ancora imparo
Unlike our financial nest eggs and investment, procrastination is about the only process these days that is collecting or growing anything.
For example, consider the act of procrastinating about doing the laundry.... or dishes, for that matter. The piles grow and grow, at a rate of return that would make the Federal Reserve green with envy and envy is the only green that banks are growing today.
If I procrastinate about cleaning my residence, I can increase the number of hours I have spent reading books or magazines.
Procrastination of pulling weeds and other noxious plants results in fewer sore backs for most of us.
Procrastination has resulted in great literary compositions. One of my favorite books, Gone With the Wind, saluted procrastination in its final scene. Scarlett O'Hara gave the herald call of all procrastinators when she uttered the words, "After all, tomorrow is another day."
So, here's saving all that can be saved for another day!
Ancora imparo
Monday, April 27, 2009
No Laughing Matter
You've heard me say before that part of my psyche was frozen at the middle school level. I'm convinced that is why I had such a heart for teaching middle school-aged students.
I'm also convinced that individuals who are in my subject area, music, are also actor-wannabees. The fact is, to be a middle-school teacher, one has to be part actor, philosopher, authority figure, sage, counselor, nutrition expert and clown - for without a sense of humor and love of the bizarre, you would never survive in today's middle school classroom.
With that said, I've been enjoying adopting a clown persona once a year for the past several years. It is a legitimate way to make a fool of myself! A friend of mine is a kindergarten teacher and each year her class puts on a circus, complete with acts, props, and..........a clown.
Enter me as the clown. This year I decided that my career as a clown needed an update. I needed a new face, costume, and attitude. I found a clowning mentor who took me under her wing and, this morning, we met for an instructional session.
I had no idea!
Clowning is serious business - pun intended.
I learned that there are books galore on the subject of clowning; I discovered that the props are endless; that miming is the most effective way for a clown to communicate; that the face is the 'piece de resistance'.
A large chunk of our time together today was spent on what face make-up to use and how to apply it. I was amazed at the tools needed and the application process required. Clown-facing goes way beyond slapping on some colors and walking out the door. I learned that applying my 'face' correctly will take well over an hour, if not longer.
The lesson has been given, the instructions written down, the tools purchased, and the props readied. Next comes the practice session. I hope that I am able to walk outside my house after removing the make-up. I wrote that down in red ink!
What I learned today is that clowning around is no laughing matter!
Ancora imparo
I'm also convinced that individuals who are in my subject area, music, are also actor-wannabees. The fact is, to be a middle-school teacher, one has to be part actor, philosopher, authority figure, sage, counselor, nutrition expert and clown - for without a sense of humor and love of the bizarre, you would never survive in today's middle school classroom.
With that said, I've been enjoying adopting a clown persona once a year for the past several years. It is a legitimate way to make a fool of myself! A friend of mine is a kindergarten teacher and each year her class puts on a circus, complete with acts, props, and..........a clown.
Enter me as the clown. This year I decided that my career as a clown needed an update. I needed a new face, costume, and attitude. I found a clowning mentor who took me under her wing and, this morning, we met for an instructional session.
I had no idea!
Clowning is serious business - pun intended.
I learned that there are books galore on the subject of clowning; I discovered that the props are endless; that miming is the most effective way for a clown to communicate; that the face is the 'piece de resistance'.
A large chunk of our time together today was spent on what face make-up to use and how to apply it. I was amazed at the tools needed and the application process required. Clown-facing goes way beyond slapping on some colors and walking out the door. I learned that applying my 'face' correctly will take well over an hour, if not longer.
The lesson has been given, the instructions written down, the tools purchased, and the props readied. Next comes the practice session. I hope that I am able to walk outside my house after removing the make-up. I wrote that down in red ink!
What I learned today is that clowning around is no laughing matter!
Ancora imparo
Sunday, April 26, 2009
All Shapes, Sizes and Ages
I watched a village at work today.
This village consisted of children small, smaller, and slightly bigger. Assisting the children were many adults..........all young, of course. The adults were not afraid to wade into the water, so to speak. Some were actors, some prompted the children with lines, one led dancing, another directed, others made props and costumes - all so that the children could shine.
The entire village was engaged, from beginning to end. You could see nervous children, other children looked and sounded completely at ease. Beautiful faces and voices. Clear, confident voices, others less confident but still with a beauty that only can come from a child.
Confidence wasn't commensurate with age. Some great confidence and skill came from the youngest of the children. Prompting came from each other as well. They were all in the game together.
Vision, planning, more vision and planning, working, and practicing all came together this morning. I would imagine that most involved are breathing a huge sigh of relief at this time, although, somewhere, one of the children has said, "I wish it wasn't over! Let's do it again!"
Next year another village will.
Ancora imparo
This village consisted of children small, smaller, and slightly bigger. Assisting the children were many adults..........all young, of course. The adults were not afraid to wade into the water, so to speak. Some were actors, some prompted the children with lines, one led dancing, another directed, others made props and costumes - all so that the children could shine.
The entire village was engaged, from beginning to end. You could see nervous children, other children looked and sounded completely at ease. Beautiful faces and voices. Clear, confident voices, others less confident but still with a beauty that only can come from a child.
Confidence wasn't commensurate with age. Some great confidence and skill came from the youngest of the children. Prompting came from each other as well. They were all in the game together.
Vision, planning, more vision and planning, working, and practicing all came together this morning. I would imagine that most involved are breathing a huge sigh of relief at this time, although, somewhere, one of the children has said, "I wish it wasn't over! Let's do it again!"
Next year another village will.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Must It Be So Difficult?
We purged our residence and garage today of sensitive documents and hazardous waste materials. The collection process has been on-going for the past few weeks as we prepared, sorted, scoped-out, scooped out, and shoveled out - OK, maybe not shoveled out. This is a once-a-year task that seems to require a Papal dispensation and divine blessing to accomplish.
Ridding our files and drawers of out-dated, sensitive documents is a tedious task and it took my SO many hours to complete the chore. We are dedicated, daily shredders, dedicated to the point of.........well, let's just say that nothing gets sent,out of our home, in our local waste hauler's recycling bin that includes any sensitive, personal information, including name and address.
In order to save our cross-cut shredder from certain death due to over-exertion, we decided to take advantage of a community service, offered today by a local bank, to have documents professionally shredded by a gargantuan shredder, right before your eyes. Then it was on to a site where county residents can properly dispose of hazardous-waste materials. For us, this is about a forty-minute trek so it is a trip that is planned around other errands. Additionally, the drop-off location is only open one morning a week. It is an important service provided to county residents and one that is vital to our environment.
Here comes the title of today's post: Must it be so difficult to properly dispose of these materials? Oh, it is not difficult once you get there. The dedicated people who handle and collect the waste are highly efficient and any line of vehicles moves along quickly. My issue is the lack of readily available locations throughout the county. It is possible that the driving distance automatically ensures that many toxic substances go all-too-readily into garbage bags and into our landfills, or get dumped into drains that leach through septic fields or run into home drains connected directly to sewers.
If our local communities and their governing bodies are truly determined to become more environmentally conscious then let's provide more locations throughout our county where hazardous-waste materials and items can be safely disposed of.
If you build it, they will come.
Ancora imparo
Ridding our files and drawers of out-dated, sensitive documents is a tedious task and it took my SO many hours to complete the chore. We are dedicated, daily shredders, dedicated to the point of.........well, let's just say that nothing gets sent,out of our home, in our local waste hauler's recycling bin that includes any sensitive, personal information, including name and address.
In order to save our cross-cut shredder from certain death due to over-exertion, we decided to take advantage of a community service, offered today by a local bank, to have documents professionally shredded by a gargantuan shredder, right before your eyes. Then it was on to a site where county residents can properly dispose of hazardous-waste materials. For us, this is about a forty-minute trek so it is a trip that is planned around other errands. Additionally, the drop-off location is only open one morning a week. It is an important service provided to county residents and one that is vital to our environment.
Here comes the title of today's post: Must it be so difficult to properly dispose of these materials? Oh, it is not difficult once you get there. The dedicated people who handle and collect the waste are highly efficient and any line of vehicles moves along quickly. My issue is the lack of readily available locations throughout the county. It is possible that the driving distance automatically ensures that many toxic substances go all-too-readily into garbage bags and into our landfills, or get dumped into drains that leach through septic fields or run into home drains connected directly to sewers.
If our local communities and their governing bodies are truly determined to become more environmentally conscious then let's provide more locations throughout our county where hazardous-waste materials and items can be safely disposed of.
If you build it, they will come.
Ancora imparo
Friday, April 24, 2009
Bedazzled
Last night my SO and I had the pleasure of attending a performance of "Riverdance".
"Riverdance" is in its final tour and our immediate geographic area was fortunate enough to have booked a three-night run. Not being familiar with the 'story line', we went expecting just a lot of Irish dancing.
Except, our expectations were way low and were infinitely exceeded.
I was blown away by the skills demonstrated by the small-but-mighty band, which consisted of five musicians: Keyboard/synthesizer, percussion, violin, soprano sax, and another man who played various Irish/ethnic instruments, the names of which I cannot fathom. These musicians played for well over two hours with nary a note of music before them. And this was not a performance of jazz improvisation where each performance will be slightly different. These dudes were accompanying dancers whose routines depend on accuracy and repetition - where each beat must be accounted for or dance routines will flounder and disaster will strike.
The fascinating percussionist was like most of the really good percussionists I have taught: Hyperactive and bordering on lunacy. He had a myriad of instruments to play and he moved through his 'area' as if he was powered by nitroglycerin. He bounced, he leaped, he jumped........he was a bundle of energy from beginning to end. He had the percussionist's ultimate dream - to have two dozen or more percussion instruments before him - and try to play them all within a three-minute window.
The dancers all appeared relatively young and their winnowy bodies moved with grace, agility, precision, incredible strength, and eye-popping speed. At times, just keeping track of their feet movements was all my human eye could manage.
The footwork was amazing, to say the least.
My SO and I did not realize that singers would also be present in the show, so we were thrilled to hear the superb vocals that were part of the story line. Each vocalist was spot-on but a stand-out was an African-American baritone. His part did not come until about the last third of the show and what a show-stopper he was. He was imposing in stature and vocal prowess. He could have sung for hours and I would never have tired of listening or watching.
A first-class evening from beginning to end, made possible by a wonderful lady named Diane. Thank you, Diane!
Ancora imparo
"Riverdance" is in its final tour and our immediate geographic area was fortunate enough to have booked a three-night run. Not being familiar with the 'story line', we went expecting just a lot of Irish dancing.
Except, our expectations were way low and were infinitely exceeded.
I was blown away by the skills demonstrated by the small-but-mighty band, which consisted of five musicians: Keyboard/synthesizer, percussion, violin, soprano sax, and another man who played various Irish/ethnic instruments, the names of which I cannot fathom. These musicians played for well over two hours with nary a note of music before them. And this was not a performance of jazz improvisation where each performance will be slightly different. These dudes were accompanying dancers whose routines depend on accuracy and repetition - where each beat must be accounted for or dance routines will flounder and disaster will strike.
The fascinating percussionist was like most of the really good percussionists I have taught: Hyperactive and bordering on lunacy. He had a myriad of instruments to play and he moved through his 'area' as if he was powered by nitroglycerin. He bounced, he leaped, he jumped........he was a bundle of energy from beginning to end. He had the percussionist's ultimate dream - to have two dozen or more percussion instruments before him - and try to play them all within a three-minute window.
The dancers all appeared relatively young and their winnowy bodies moved with grace, agility, precision, incredible strength, and eye-popping speed. At times, just keeping track of their feet movements was all my human eye could manage.
The footwork was amazing, to say the least.
My SO and I did not realize that singers would also be present in the show, so we were thrilled to hear the superb vocals that were part of the story line. Each vocalist was spot-on but a stand-out was an African-American baritone. His part did not come until about the last third of the show and what a show-stopper he was. He was imposing in stature and vocal prowess. He could have sung for hours and I would never have tired of listening or watching.
A first-class evening from beginning to end, made possible by a wonderful lady named Diane. Thank you, Diane!
Ancora imparo
Thursday, April 23, 2009
To What Are We Entitled?
Entitlement........I've been reading and hearing more about it almost daily. Which, then, makes me think..........to what am I entitled? Am I entitled to anything?
But wait! If I'm entitled to 'something' (a nebulous word, to say the least), doesn't that mean that I earned it?
From where I sit, earning and entitlement seem to be polar opposites in our current society - not even in the same planet - oxymoronic even.
But wait! Shouldn't the two verbs be connected to one another? A nested if, if you will. I earn 'this', therefore I have become entitled.
Government entitlement programs have been in existence for many decades now. What once were deemed temporary fixes for what were assumed to be temporary problems grew as quickly as mold in a dorm room refrigerator. After a period of time, we, the public, grew to expect that these fixes, mostly of a financial give-away nature, would always be in place. Subsequent generations from the alpha group made assumptions and the feeling of entitlement cemented itself within our societal structure.
Trust-fund babies have a unique perspective of entitlement. These children are able to move about life as they please, secure in the knowledge that the trust fund, set up by a forebear, will act as a financial safety net. Some trust-fund babies have a strong work ethic and desire to achieve work-related goals they have set forth for themselves. Other trust-fund babies, such as a man I recently saw interviewed on television, take a more laissez-faire approach to life. This younger man had just been laid off from a job and was thoroughly enjoying life on his unemployment benefits, completely unmotivated to look for work, "secure in the knowledge that his trust fund, set up by a forebear, would act as a financial safety net".
Is this young man guilty of anything? Absolutely not! He cannot be blamed for the foresight displayed by his forebear(s). He cannot help that he has a trust fund set up in his name. Did this man earn his unemployment benefits? Absolutely yes! He is fully due whatever the government program sends his way, for as long as the government deems it proper.......as are all Americans who lose their jobs and receive unemployment benefits.
So what is my problem? I think it is the attitude that some are displaying. I am, therefore, give to me. I want, therefore give to me.
I am guilty of this attitude from time to time. Is it human nature to experience an event or 'happening', then have the attitude grow that the event or 'happening' should repeat itself again and again?
I think it is time to take stock of my attitude towards many things: Activities, rewards, even friends - especially friendships. I am not entitled to a friendship. It is not a government program that automatically renews every year. I must earn the friendship then work towards earning the right to renew the friendship.
But wait! If I'm entitled to 'something' (a nebulous word, to say the least), doesn't that mean that I earned it?
From where I sit, earning and entitlement seem to be polar opposites in our current society - not even in the same planet - oxymoronic even.
But wait! Shouldn't the two verbs be connected to one another? A nested if, if you will. I earn 'this', therefore I have become entitled.
Government entitlement programs have been in existence for many decades now. What once were deemed temporary fixes for what were assumed to be temporary problems grew as quickly as mold in a dorm room refrigerator. After a period of time, we, the public, grew to expect that these fixes, mostly of a financial give-away nature, would always be in place. Subsequent generations from the alpha group made assumptions and the feeling of entitlement cemented itself within our societal structure.
Trust-fund babies have a unique perspective of entitlement. These children are able to move about life as they please, secure in the knowledge that the trust fund, set up by a forebear, will act as a financial safety net. Some trust-fund babies have a strong work ethic and desire to achieve work-related goals they have set forth for themselves. Other trust-fund babies, such as a man I recently saw interviewed on television, take a more laissez-faire approach to life. This younger man had just been laid off from a job and was thoroughly enjoying life on his unemployment benefits, completely unmotivated to look for work, "secure in the knowledge that his trust fund, set up by a forebear, would act as a financial safety net".
Is this young man guilty of anything? Absolutely not! He cannot be blamed for the foresight displayed by his forebear(s). He cannot help that he has a trust fund set up in his name. Did this man earn his unemployment benefits? Absolutely yes! He is fully due whatever the government program sends his way, for as long as the government deems it proper.......as are all Americans who lose their jobs and receive unemployment benefits.
So what is my problem? I think it is the attitude that some are displaying. I am, therefore, give to me. I want, therefore give to me.
I am guilty of this attitude from time to time. Is it human nature to experience an event or 'happening', then have the attitude grow that the event or 'happening' should repeat itself again and again?
I think it is time to take stock of my attitude towards many things: Activities, rewards, even friends - especially friendships. I am not entitled to a friendship. It is not a government program that automatically renews every year. I must earn the friendship then work towards earning the right to renew the friendship.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Listen Carefully!
As a musician, I understand the importance and necessitiy of my auditory sense. It acts as the governor that assimilates all my senses into a complete sensory experience. For young musicians, developing their listening skills was, perhaps, the greatest gift I could give them as a music educator.
What does careful listening accomplish?
You see, a friend of mine recently established a photography website called eagleeyephotography. He sent me an email with the title in the subject line, to which I gave a quick, cursury look and then moved on to other tasks, thinking I would check out his website at a later time. I did not read carefully. Later that same day, prior to running a rehearsal of a group that this man is a part of, I overheard, but not carefully, him speaking to another member of the group, explaining his photography web site. What I thought I heard him say was, "My web site is called e coli photography. Since, at that point, I was now guilty of not reading or listening carefully, I thought to myself that this was the most strange and bizarre web site title I could imagine and I wondered what he was thinking when he named his web site e coli photography.
Moving ahead in time, I checked my email this morning and found a day-two posting of his web site in my inbox. To my amazement and private embarrassment, I noted that his web site is called eagleeyephotography NOT e coli photography! The two titles are worlds apart in meaning and intent but actually quite close from an auditory perception point of 'view'. With this realization, I would describe myself as ROFL at my innocent, yet outrageous, error due to inadequate auditory skills.
Please take a cue from my mistake. Listen AND read carefully - always. You could save your life, important relationships, your job, or - prevent egg from covering your face.
Ancora imparo
What does careful listening accomplish?
- Marital bliss
- Prevents a pedestrian from being hit by a vehicle
- Hearing the cries of a baby or toddler
- Job security
- Enjoying a good joke
- Drinking in the sounds of nature
- Ascertaining car trouble while it may still be minor
- Discovering incorrect notes in a musical performance
- Taking away important points in a sermon
- Understanding that the dog is about to bite
- Understanding that the grumpy kitty is not happy
- Ferreting out the pesky squeak in a boat's engines
- Finding the cricket hidden in your house
- Writing the check correctly
- Being able to accept an apology
- Realizing that you need to make an apology
- Figuring out that the carbonated beverage you are about to drink has lost its fizz
- Saving yourself from a fatal snake bite
- Getting wet when your pool toy springs a leak
- Prevention of making a fool of yourself
You see, a friend of mine recently established a photography website called eagleeyephotography. He sent me an email with the title in the subject line, to which I gave a quick, cursury look and then moved on to other tasks, thinking I would check out his website at a later time. I did not read carefully. Later that same day, prior to running a rehearsal of a group that this man is a part of, I overheard, but not carefully, him speaking to another member of the group, explaining his photography web site. What I thought I heard him say was, "My web site is called e coli photography. Since, at that point, I was now guilty of not reading or listening carefully, I thought to myself that this was the most strange and bizarre web site title I could imagine and I wondered what he was thinking when he named his web site e coli photography.
Moving ahead in time, I checked my email this morning and found a day-two posting of his web site in my inbox. To my amazement and private embarrassment, I noted that his web site is called eagleeyephotography NOT e coli photography! The two titles are worlds apart in meaning and intent but actually quite close from an auditory perception point of 'view'. With this realization, I would describe myself as ROFL at my innocent, yet outrageous, error due to inadequate auditory skills.
Please take a cue from my mistake. Listen AND read carefully - always. You could save your life, important relationships, your job, or - prevent egg from covering your face.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Play Money
I'm waiting for the headline and subsequent article to read as follows:
GOVERNMENT LEADERS REALIZE MISTAKE!
The Give-It-Away Administration, currently in power in Washington D.C., announced in an 8 a.m. EST press release, that it had discovered the greatest dupe of modern memory: All United States' currency had been found to be substituted with play money. This included the gold at Fort Knox, which was discovered to be only construction-grade bricks covered with gold spray paint.
The Give-Aways pointed with pride to the task force, led by the Treasury Secretary, that revealed this scam. The sitting president then issued another statement, claiming to have saved the American public additional trillions of dollars in savings due to the fine work of his lackeys and underlings.
Average-Joes-On-the-Street, when questioned by clueless and hapless reporters, were at first blindsided by the revelation, which many had not heard. However, after a few words of prompting inquiries from the clueless and hapless reporters, most smiled broadly and said "Yes, we can!"
After the press release and presidential statement, looting was reportedly widespread across the nation, as rumors abounded about ordinary citizens hiding real currency that the Give-Aways had failed to locate. Reactions to the stunning news that the nation's currency had been replaced by play money ranged from one Illinoisian who said he had real money left that he would sell to the highest bidder, to a Michigander who said he had a barren factory all set up to print as much play money as the world needed, to a quiet Wyoming woman who simply straddled her horse and set off for the mountains in search of real gold.
The sitting Give-Away president concluded his statement with the news that he would leave on yet another diplomacy trip, revisiting the recent countries where avowed America-revilers lead, saying that he was sure that after one more visit, "they'll be friends forever".
For the record, I just checked and all of my real currency disappeared during the night. I am smiling, though, at the thought of all the money I saved by not having any real currency left.
Ancora imparo
GOVERNMENT LEADERS REALIZE MISTAKE!
The Give-It-Away Administration, currently in power in Washington D.C., announced in an 8 a.m. EST press release, that it had discovered the greatest dupe of modern memory: All United States' currency had been found to be substituted with play money. This included the gold at Fort Knox, which was discovered to be only construction-grade bricks covered with gold spray paint.
The Give-Aways pointed with pride to the task force, led by the Treasury Secretary, that revealed this scam. The sitting president then issued another statement, claiming to have saved the American public additional trillions of dollars in savings due to the fine work of his lackeys and underlings.
Average-Joes-On-the-Street, when questioned by clueless and hapless reporters, were at first blindsided by the revelation, which many had not heard. However, after a few words of prompting inquiries from the clueless and hapless reporters, most smiled broadly and said "Yes, we can!"
After the press release and presidential statement, looting was reportedly widespread across the nation, as rumors abounded about ordinary citizens hiding real currency that the Give-Aways had failed to locate. Reactions to the stunning news that the nation's currency had been replaced by play money ranged from one Illinoisian who said he had real money left that he would sell to the highest bidder, to a Michigander who said he had a barren factory all set up to print as much play money as the world needed, to a quiet Wyoming woman who simply straddled her horse and set off for the mountains in search of real gold.
The sitting Give-Away president concluded his statement with the news that he would leave on yet another diplomacy trip, revisiting the recent countries where avowed America-revilers lead, saying that he was sure that after one more visit, "they'll be friends forever".
For the record, I just checked and all of my real currency disappeared during the night. I am smiling, though, at the thought of all the money I saved by not having any real currency left.
Ancora imparo
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wistful
How ironic that my one-hundredth posting is entitled 'Wistful'.
My brain had settled on the title before logging on and I did not remember or note from my previous posting that this one would be number one hundred. I do not think the title selection is in any way, accidental. Kismet brought me to the word, wistful.
Because I'm always searching for, and on the lookout for, the coincidences in my world, the coinciding of a landmark blog posting for me and a look back (hence, the word wistful) in time, is, indeed, a coincidence of great personal magnitude.
What triggered this? A ballade by Frederick Chopin.
As I was driving this morning, listening to my favorite classical public radio station, the morning host announced that the next selection was a Chopin Ballade. The track began and so did my memories.
Years ago, our home was graced by two pianos that routinely received vigorous workouts of a classical and jazz nature. Our household was fortunate to have space to have the duet of instruments positioned far enough apart that two pianists could practice simultaneously. How I loved hearing the notes fly through time and space. Occasionally, a pounding of frustration could be heard, but, for the most part, the practice sessions were music to my ears. I can't remember which one of my children performed this particular Chopin piece, but, as I recall, it was performed for a piano competition and the competitor impressed the judges enough to be selected a finalist, thereby winning a monetary award. Both of my children were blessed with a musical gift from God that I never tired of listening to. The day that only one piano was needed and one was sold was a sad day, indeed, marking a passage of time that meant that children were growing up and leaving the nest. Today our beautiful grand gets used periodically, but never exercised as it used to be, nor deserves to be.
Which brings me to the wistful part of posting number one hundred.
Just like my piano, our children have grown, have families of their own, and lives to live. I guess I could say they have moved on but that part of me has not. Perhaps that is a natural part of parenting - holding on to the memories and feeling wistful from time to time. Memories are the fabric that keeps me connected to loved ones that are either a distance away or a universe away.
I think I'll go tickle the ivories of my piano and bring the memories to life, if only for a moment.
Ancora imparo
My brain had settled on the title before logging on and I did not remember or note from my previous posting that this one would be number one hundred. I do not think the title selection is in any way, accidental. Kismet brought me to the word, wistful.
Because I'm always searching for, and on the lookout for, the coincidences in my world, the coinciding of a landmark blog posting for me and a look back (hence, the word wistful) in time, is, indeed, a coincidence of great personal magnitude.
What triggered this? A ballade by Frederick Chopin.
As I was driving this morning, listening to my favorite classical public radio station, the morning host announced that the next selection was a Chopin Ballade. The track began and so did my memories.
Years ago, our home was graced by two pianos that routinely received vigorous workouts of a classical and jazz nature. Our household was fortunate to have space to have the duet of instruments positioned far enough apart that two pianists could practice simultaneously. How I loved hearing the notes fly through time and space. Occasionally, a pounding of frustration could be heard, but, for the most part, the practice sessions were music to my ears. I can't remember which one of my children performed this particular Chopin piece, but, as I recall, it was performed for a piano competition and the competitor impressed the judges enough to be selected a finalist, thereby winning a monetary award. Both of my children were blessed with a musical gift from God that I never tired of listening to. The day that only one piano was needed and one was sold was a sad day, indeed, marking a passage of time that meant that children were growing up and leaving the nest. Today our beautiful grand gets used periodically, but never exercised as it used to be, nor deserves to be.
Which brings me to the wistful part of posting number one hundred.
Just like my piano, our children have grown, have families of their own, and lives to live. I guess I could say they have moved on but that part of me has not. Perhaps that is a natural part of parenting - holding on to the memories and feeling wistful from time to time. Memories are the fabric that keeps me connected to loved ones that are either a distance away or a universe away.
I think I'll go tickle the ivories of my piano and bring the memories to life, if only for a moment.
Ancora imparo
Sunday, April 19, 2009
My Head Hurts
Gloom, despair, and misery - all three.
Anyone remember these words from the weekly, Country Western show, a number of years ago, called Hee Haw?
The words express what this day has held, thus far.
Today is gloomy because it is cloudy, overcast, grey-skied and raining. Other than that, the weather is perfect! I'd much prefer the warmth and sun that was with us for the past two and a half days.
The day is full of despair because I've been forced to move W-A-Y outside my comfort zone in computer-related areas. Since my hard drive crashed and programs have been reloaded, nothing looks or acts the same. I am a computer user that relies on familiarity of path, print, and program. When differences arise, it seemeth that I taketh a while to adapt!
My misery seems to be related to why I am distressed as well as the weather. Couldn't Mother Nature have produced a gloriously sunny day to accompany the gloom and misery I am feeling due to my brain having to learn new tricks? 'Tis not fair to have to think so hard in so much psychological and meteorological haze!
I guess I should embrace my gloom, despair and misery, wallow in them for a bit, enjoy the effects, then move on to three new moods!
Ancora imparo
Anyone remember these words from the weekly, Country Western show, a number of years ago, called Hee Haw?
The words express what this day has held, thus far.
Today is gloomy because it is cloudy, overcast, grey-skied and raining. Other than that, the weather is perfect! I'd much prefer the warmth and sun that was with us for the past two and a half days.
The day is full of despair because I've been forced to move W-A-Y outside my comfort zone in computer-related areas. Since my hard drive crashed and programs have been reloaded, nothing looks or acts the same. I am a computer user that relies on familiarity of path, print, and program. When differences arise, it seemeth that I taketh a while to adapt!
My misery seems to be related to why I am distressed as well as the weather. Couldn't Mother Nature have produced a gloriously sunny day to accompany the gloom and misery I am feeling due to my brain having to learn new tricks? 'Tis not fair to have to think so hard in so much psychological and meteorological haze!
I guess I should embrace my gloom, despair and misery, wallow in them for a bit, enjoy the effects, then move on to three new moods!
Ancora imparo
Saturday, April 18, 2009
1-Person Tea Party
Did you attend a tea party on April 15?
I did not, and paid very little attention to the press interest given to these mini-protest gatherings around the country. I noted that a tea party was held in my vicinity, although attendance was somewhat sparse.
What has captured my curiosity is the post-April 15 concentration of the media's focus on these 'tea parties'. Of course, media focus can turn a few events into seeming hundreds or even thousands of protest parties so it can be difficult to ascertain any accurate number.
Radio correspondents have derided the participants and their gatherings, chiding the protesters for lacking organization and forethought of complaint. Radio segments, aired today, poked fun at the very idea of protesting and left the listener with the impression that primates were better at protesting than humans.
What I find the most fascinating is that the very networks and news organization that are the first to complain when our government or legal system tries to muzzle contrary views are now scolding tea-party participants who gathered to voice their opposing opinions.
Is not the ballot box the most highly effective vehicle for affecting change? The pen is mightier than the sword and ink is more influential than tea.
The next time elections are held, perhaps a percentage higher than a twenty-five percent turn-out will yield results that carry a louder message. Want to protest? Go to the polls!
Ancora imparo
I did not, and paid very little attention to the press interest given to these mini-protest gatherings around the country. I noted that a tea party was held in my vicinity, although attendance was somewhat sparse.
What has captured my curiosity is the post-April 15 concentration of the media's focus on these 'tea parties'. Of course, media focus can turn a few events into seeming hundreds or even thousands of protest parties so it can be difficult to ascertain any accurate number.
Radio correspondents have derided the participants and their gatherings, chiding the protesters for lacking organization and forethought of complaint. Radio segments, aired today, poked fun at the very idea of protesting and left the listener with the impression that primates were better at protesting than humans.
What I find the most fascinating is that the very networks and news organization that are the first to complain when our government or legal system tries to muzzle contrary views are now scolding tea-party participants who gathered to voice their opposing opinions.
Is not the ballot box the most highly effective vehicle for affecting change? The pen is mightier than the sword and ink is more influential than tea.
The next time elections are held, perhaps a percentage higher than a twenty-five percent turn-out will yield results that carry a louder message. Want to protest? Go to the polls!
Ancora imparo
Friday, April 17, 2009
Finding My Inner Retriever
Over the years, testing companies have introduced personality assessment tests, ostensibly to help corporations/groups/organizations match individuals to departments, tasks or positions. Among the many types of tests, one categorizes individuals into animal-types. An example of such categorization would be The Golden Retriever.
The Golden Retriever seeks constantly to please and appease, sometimes sacrificing individuality for congeniality. There is probably a little bit of retriever in all of us, but, for some people, many retriever characteristics can be identified.
Golden Retriever personality-types are great people to be around. They are agreeable to the point of not wanting to disagree or disappoint those who have a position of importance or elevation in their lives.
However, there comes a time in all of our lives when we must, within societal constraints and those boundaries placed upon us by virtue of relationships we find ourselves in, begin to live for ourselves. The old 'saw' - To thine self be true - is most certainly appropos. 'To live with no regrets' doesn't mean to cast aside all moral, ethical and relational bonds and do whatever we please whenever we please. A human being needs to find the fine line of recognizing that we can care what others think, but if those 'others' do not agree with a decision we make, all is still well. Disapproving of a deed or action does not equate with disavowing love, affection or respect.
And, the Golden Retriever needs to remember the adage: If you think you won't like the answer, don't ask the question.
Important words to live by...........for The Golden Retriever in all of us!
Ancora imparo
The Golden Retriever seeks constantly to please and appease, sometimes sacrificing individuality for congeniality. There is probably a little bit of retriever in all of us, but, for some people, many retriever characteristics can be identified.
Golden Retriever personality-types are great people to be around. They are agreeable to the point of not wanting to disagree or disappoint those who have a position of importance or elevation in their lives.
However, there comes a time in all of our lives when we must, within societal constraints and those boundaries placed upon us by virtue of relationships we find ourselves in, begin to live for ourselves. The old 'saw' - To thine self be true - is most certainly appropos. 'To live with no regrets' doesn't mean to cast aside all moral, ethical and relational bonds and do whatever we please whenever we please. A human being needs to find the fine line of recognizing that we can care what others think, but if those 'others' do not agree with a decision we make, all is still well. Disapproving of a deed or action does not equate with disavowing love, affection or respect.
And, the Golden Retriever needs to remember the adage: If you think you won't like the answer, don't ask the question.
Important words to live by...........for The Golden Retriever in all of us!
Ancora imparo
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A Beacon of Hope
Real signs of spring abounded today. Finally.
I don't know about you, but I've about had it with anything less than spring. I'm ready to leave behind the cold, snowy weather, dingy in-between weather, and doom-and-gloom national economic forecasts. I know people who are currently unemployed and too many people genuinely concerned for the longevity of their present positions. I hear people talking about watching their 'nest eggs' shrink before their very eyes. Friends openly discuss having trouble sleeping and other friends are eating themselves into a false sense of security. (I'm right there with them.)
So, what are the signs of spring?
Well........the trees outside my windows have honest-to-goodness buds on their branches. There are scores of robins flitting about in yards and trees. High school track participants are trotting, jogging and sprinting on area sidewalks. Tax day has passed. The ice has disappeared from the river. Flowers have poked through to the sun. Those odd, little lady-bug-type beetles have invaded my home. The area ice cream businesses have reopened their doors. My neighbor was washing a car in his driveway this afternoon. The Girl Scouts have sold their final boxes of cookies at the mall. The view through the woods between my home and the highway is becoming hazy. The asparagus I buy at the grocery store is becoming more tender and I am throwing away smaller, tough amounts. All the catalogs arriving daily in my mailbox are sporting swimsuits on the covers.
Need any more evidence?
Oh, yes. The final, most convincing piece of evidence that spring is really here........a true beacon of hope................
My UPS man was delivering in his brown, knee-length-pant uniform!
Thank you, Brown, for making me believe that winter has disappeared!
Ancora imparo
I don't know about you, but I've about had it with anything less than spring. I'm ready to leave behind the cold, snowy weather, dingy in-between weather, and doom-and-gloom national economic forecasts. I know people who are currently unemployed and too many people genuinely concerned for the longevity of their present positions. I hear people talking about watching their 'nest eggs' shrink before their very eyes. Friends openly discuss having trouble sleeping and other friends are eating themselves into a false sense of security. (I'm right there with them.)
So, what are the signs of spring?
Well........the trees outside my windows have honest-to-goodness buds on their branches. There are scores of robins flitting about in yards and trees. High school track participants are trotting, jogging and sprinting on area sidewalks. Tax day has passed. The ice has disappeared from the river. Flowers have poked through to the sun. Those odd, little lady-bug-type beetles have invaded my home. The area ice cream businesses have reopened their doors. My neighbor was washing a car in his driveway this afternoon. The Girl Scouts have sold their final boxes of cookies at the mall. The view through the woods between my home and the highway is becoming hazy. The asparagus I buy at the grocery store is becoming more tender and I am throwing away smaller, tough amounts. All the catalogs arriving daily in my mailbox are sporting swimsuits on the covers.
Need any more evidence?
Oh, yes. The final, most convincing piece of evidence that spring is really here........a true beacon of hope................
My UPS man was delivering in his brown, knee-length-pant uniform!
Thank you, Brown, for making me believe that winter has disappeared!
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
When A Good Idea Is Not
Planning - is not easy, nor is it understood.
Good planning is taken for granted. When a job or event runs smoothly, most participants will never feel the undercurrent of efforts that were present to make the 'magic' happen.
'Magic', however, does not just 'happen'. When a job or event does not run smoothly, hits snags, or, perhaps, fails outright, the Sunday morning quarterbacks take up their positions and throw projectiles at those who were at the forefront.
Unjustified projectiles? Perhaps. More often than not, the criticism is justified.....but only by those who were involved in the project..........not the side-sitters, as I call them.
Side-sitters move about in this world from the periphery of every project, committee, event, or job. They bring the special chairs from which they observe and comment on each decision. Side-sitters suffer from no shortage of opinions. Rather they suffer from a complete lack of initiative, original thinking, and possess zero abilities to summon sweat equity.
How can the side-sitters be ignored or forever muzzled?
By planning.
Planning is not just ideas accompanied by smoke and mirrors. Planning involves and requires forward thinking, forward planning, informed decisions and the anticipation of the consequences of those decisions. 'Devils Advocates', while frequently annoying, do play an important role in planning, for without the questioners anticipating effects and outcomes, train wrecks will and do happen, resulting in a chorus of side-sitter voices.
The Final Answer?
Think, anticipate, do your homework, plan then repeat steps one through four before moving to step five and beyond. The side-sitters won't have a chair to sit upon!
Ancora imparo
Good planning is taken for granted. When a job or event runs smoothly, most participants will never feel the undercurrent of efforts that were present to make the 'magic' happen.
'Magic', however, does not just 'happen'. When a job or event does not run smoothly, hits snags, or, perhaps, fails outright, the Sunday morning quarterbacks take up their positions and throw projectiles at those who were at the forefront.
Unjustified projectiles? Perhaps. More often than not, the criticism is justified.....but only by those who were involved in the project..........not the side-sitters, as I call them.
Side-sitters move about in this world from the periphery of every project, committee, event, or job. They bring the special chairs from which they observe and comment on each decision. Side-sitters suffer from no shortage of opinions. Rather they suffer from a complete lack of initiative, original thinking, and possess zero abilities to summon sweat equity.
How can the side-sitters be ignored or forever muzzled?
By planning.
Planning is not just ideas accompanied by smoke and mirrors. Planning involves and requires forward thinking, forward planning, informed decisions and the anticipation of the consequences of those decisions. 'Devils Advocates', while frequently annoying, do play an important role in planning, for without the questioners anticipating effects and outcomes, train wrecks will and do happen, resulting in a chorus of side-sitter voices.
The Final Answer?
Think, anticipate, do your homework, plan then repeat steps one through four before moving to step five and beyond. The side-sitters won't have a chair to sit upon!
Ancora imparo
Monday, April 13, 2009
Tobogganing With My Gavotte
Recently, I came across a phrase that I'd never heard before:
Tobogganing With My Gavotte
Within my fuzzy memory, it seemed to have something to do with having money, but I have since forgotten exactly what its meaning is.
Fast forward to today.
It is a dull, dreary, rainy and overcast day. The kind of day that sends minds like mine to far- away places, hopefully to return rested and refreshed. The key words here are hopefully to return. I do want my mind back but it has had fun on its R and R. While on vacation, my mind has created my own special meaning of Tobogganing With My Gavotte.
For me, the meaning is clear. I'll dance to my own dance, thank you very much. My gavotte doesn't have to sound like yours, nor does your gavotte have to resemble mine in any way. I can rhumba, gavotte, jive, watusi, swim, monkey, cha-cha............any dance I desire, to any music I so choose, at any tempo I want. I chose my dance partner thirty-some years ago and would still chose the same partner today. I can gavotte on a week day or weekend day, or night, for that matter.
And, do not presume to tell me which musical selection, tempo or dance is best for me. I'll make that decision, thank you very much. I'll also choose how long to gavotte and what I'll wear while I am gavotting.
In other words, let us all decide, for ourselves, the parameters of our lives......the choices we'll make and the choices from which we choose. I can spend fifty cents- on my gavotte or fifty dollars - that is my decision - not yours. I don't need groups, governments, elected officials, or well-meaning 'experts' to tell me how to gavotte.
Thank you very much..........I can toboggan with my own gavotte.
May you with yours, as well.
Ancora imparo
Tobogganing With My Gavotte
Within my fuzzy memory, it seemed to have something to do with having money, but I have since forgotten exactly what its meaning is.
Fast forward to today.
It is a dull, dreary, rainy and overcast day. The kind of day that sends minds like mine to far- away places, hopefully to return rested and refreshed. The key words here are hopefully to return. I do want my mind back but it has had fun on its R and R. While on vacation, my mind has created my own special meaning of Tobogganing With My Gavotte.
For me, the meaning is clear. I'll dance to my own dance, thank you very much. My gavotte doesn't have to sound like yours, nor does your gavotte have to resemble mine in any way. I can rhumba, gavotte, jive, watusi, swim, monkey, cha-cha............any dance I desire, to any music I so choose, at any tempo I want. I chose my dance partner thirty-some years ago and would still chose the same partner today. I can gavotte on a week day or weekend day, or night, for that matter.
And, do not presume to tell me which musical selection, tempo or dance is best for me. I'll make that decision, thank you very much. I'll also choose how long to gavotte and what I'll wear while I am gavotting.
In other words, let us all decide, for ourselves, the parameters of our lives......the choices we'll make and the choices from which we choose. I can spend fifty cents- on my gavotte or fifty dollars - that is my decision - not yours. I don't need groups, governments, elected officials, or well-meaning 'experts' to tell me how to gavotte.
Thank you very much..........I can toboggan with my own gavotte.
May you with yours, as well.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Electronic Surgery
I just survived the event that every computer user dreads: My hard drive crashed. Prognosis: Totaled
Suddenly I felt as if I had been beamed back to Elizabethan times. An electronic black hole had swallowed me and transported me to another time, continent, and country.
I was dressed in heavy velvet and lace, had a collar that tickled my ear lobes, was drenched in copious amounts of perfume because I only bathed once in a blue moon and was seated at an ornate Louis XIV writing desk. A maid-servant came to me and said, "M'lady, will you take your tea now or would you like your quill pen, some parchment, and an ink well?" I asked for my parchment paper, the quill pen, and ink well and began to compose my daily blog, using the best cursive penmanship I could possibly muster, after which I summoned my maid servant and asked her to see to it that the ink on the parchment dried properly before posting the blog on the castle fortress gate.
My good friends in a neighboring fortress sent up a smoke signal, indicating that they would like to instant message with me. I summoned my maid servant yet another time and exhorted her to make a fire posthaste. She created the fire with fervent speed, grabbed the heaviest cloak she could find, and began pummeling the flames, coaxing the smoke into recognizable circles and plumes. Being a sickly girl with a pasty complexion to begin with, she soon grew tired and begged to end the instant messaging session. I became petulant, called to the manservant lurking outside my chamber door, and ordered him to escort the whimpering woman to the dungeon.
"Can no one help me communicate with yon fortress?", I wailed. The manservant brought bloke after bloke, all claiming to be capable of restoring my communication smoke circles and plumes, but to no avail. Fellow after unfortunate fellow was dragged out, begging for mercy, but I was to have none of that. I stomped my feet, balled my hands into fists, and became apoplectic of manner.
Suddenly, through my tears, a knave appeared out of nowhere. "Sir Jon, for you, M'Lady", said the trembling manservant. I dabbed at my blue orbs with a cloth of fine linen, drew upon my finest upbringing and said gently, "Sir Jon, why have I not heard of thee heretofore?" Sir Jon replied, "I've been busy, M'Lady, at the Fortress' Performing Arts Center, where I bring the finest of theatrical acts, mimes, troubadours, and musicians to the subjects of the realm. I came as soon as I read the smoke signals. How can I be of assistance to thee?"
I tried to be as succint as possible, but was ineffective in the explanation of my communication woes. "M'Lady", Sir Jon said quietly but firmly, "Mayhap we should bring Lord Al in for further detailing of thy situation, as you seem beside yourself with grief and wringing of hands?" At first, I took great umbrage with the suggestion, but soon thereafter relented. Lord Al came running quickly when he was told of my predicament. "Ah, my love, what seems to be the problem?", said Lord Al. Sir Jon came to my rescue and informed Lord Al of the looming communcation disaster. "Tis no problem, Sir Jon", boomed Lord Al. "Please, perform whatever communication surgery you must to restore the Lady-of-the-Realm to her pert and pleasant ways."
Sir Jon walked about, muttered this and that, moved his fingers in the quickest of manners, with lightning speed, frowned his brow only briefly, and pronounced that the grave communication disaster had been solved. With that, he leapt onto his jet-black steed, aptly named BMW, and rode away, leaving the Lady-of-the-Realm restored to her normal, pleasant countenance for which Lord Al was greatly relieved.
Hence, I am back.
Ancora imparo
Suddenly I felt as if I had been beamed back to Elizabethan times. An electronic black hole had swallowed me and transported me to another time, continent, and country.
I was dressed in heavy velvet and lace, had a collar that tickled my ear lobes, was drenched in copious amounts of perfume because I only bathed once in a blue moon and was seated at an ornate Louis XIV writing desk. A maid-servant came to me and said, "M'lady, will you take your tea now or would you like your quill pen, some parchment, and an ink well?" I asked for my parchment paper, the quill pen, and ink well and began to compose my daily blog, using the best cursive penmanship I could possibly muster, after which I summoned my maid servant and asked her to see to it that the ink on the parchment dried properly before posting the blog on the castle fortress gate.
My good friends in a neighboring fortress sent up a smoke signal, indicating that they would like to instant message with me. I summoned my maid servant yet another time and exhorted her to make a fire posthaste. She created the fire with fervent speed, grabbed the heaviest cloak she could find, and began pummeling the flames, coaxing the smoke into recognizable circles and plumes. Being a sickly girl with a pasty complexion to begin with, she soon grew tired and begged to end the instant messaging session. I became petulant, called to the manservant lurking outside my chamber door, and ordered him to escort the whimpering woman to the dungeon.
"Can no one help me communicate with yon fortress?", I wailed. The manservant brought bloke after bloke, all claiming to be capable of restoring my communication smoke circles and plumes, but to no avail. Fellow after unfortunate fellow was dragged out, begging for mercy, but I was to have none of that. I stomped my feet, balled my hands into fists, and became apoplectic of manner.
Suddenly, through my tears, a knave appeared out of nowhere. "Sir Jon, for you, M'Lady", said the trembling manservant. I dabbed at my blue orbs with a cloth of fine linen, drew upon my finest upbringing and said gently, "Sir Jon, why have I not heard of thee heretofore?" Sir Jon replied, "I've been busy, M'Lady, at the Fortress' Performing Arts Center, where I bring the finest of theatrical acts, mimes, troubadours, and musicians to the subjects of the realm. I came as soon as I read the smoke signals. How can I be of assistance to thee?"
I tried to be as succint as possible, but was ineffective in the explanation of my communication woes. "M'Lady", Sir Jon said quietly but firmly, "Mayhap we should bring Lord Al in for further detailing of thy situation, as you seem beside yourself with grief and wringing of hands?" At first, I took great umbrage with the suggestion, but soon thereafter relented. Lord Al came running quickly when he was told of my predicament. "Ah, my love, what seems to be the problem?", said Lord Al. Sir Jon came to my rescue and informed Lord Al of the looming communcation disaster. "Tis no problem, Sir Jon", boomed Lord Al. "Please, perform whatever communication surgery you must to restore the Lady-of-the-Realm to her pert and pleasant ways."
Sir Jon walked about, muttered this and that, moved his fingers in the quickest of manners, with lightning speed, frowned his brow only briefly, and pronounced that the grave communication disaster had been solved. With that, he leapt onto his jet-black steed, aptly named BMW, and rode away, leaving the Lady-of-the-Realm restored to her normal, pleasant countenance for which Lord Al was greatly relieved.
Hence, I am back.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Inquiring Minds Want To Know
Have you noticed that new words are appearing at the speed of light in our vocabulary?
Consider the recently accepted term 'twitter'.
As someone with an inquiring mind, I've allowed my mind to search possible derivatives as well as the root of the word 'twitter'.
For example, if I twitter, then when I am twittering, am I a twitterer? Etymologists research the root of each word and they would most certainly conclude that by the act of twittering while I twitter, I am a twit.
Another form of the word twitter can be found in the text of the movie Bambi. In Bambi, to be goofy and giddy in love with someone or something is to be twitterpated. So, to use the logic of nested-ifs in reverse, I arrive at the following conclusions:
If I twitter, I am a twit who is a twitterer and therefore twitterpated with twittering.
Now, in my realm, if I hear the phrases, "What a twit." or "That little twit.", these are not utterances of endearment. Yet the phrases might very well be simply associated with someone who is twittering.
Confused? Me, too.
My final conclusion is thus:
I am a twitterer who is twitterpated with twitterpation and the act of twittering, which makes me a twit. Whatever happened to simple 'texting'? This is all so confusing!
Ancora imparo
Consider the recently accepted term 'twitter'.
As someone with an inquiring mind, I've allowed my mind to search possible derivatives as well as the root of the word 'twitter'.
For example, if I twitter, then when I am twittering, am I a twitterer? Etymologists research the root of each word and they would most certainly conclude that by the act of twittering while I twitter, I am a twit.
Another form of the word twitter can be found in the text of the movie Bambi. In Bambi, to be goofy and giddy in love with someone or something is to be twitterpated. So, to use the logic of nested-ifs in reverse, I arrive at the following conclusions:
If I twitter, I am a twit who is a twitterer and therefore twitterpated with twittering.
Now, in my realm, if I hear the phrases, "What a twit." or "That little twit.", these are not utterances of endearment. Yet the phrases might very well be simply associated with someone who is twittering.
Confused? Me, too.
My final conclusion is thus:
I am a twitterer who is twitterpated with twitterpation and the act of twittering, which makes me a twit. Whatever happened to simple 'texting'? This is all so confusing!
Ancora imparo
Monday, April 6, 2009
Confessions of a ................
I have a dirty little secret.
Actually, it is a secret about over-zealous cleaning.
This affliction has plagued me for years and has created many jokes in our family. I know my affliction is not 'green' and would be seen as wasteful by many an environmental crusader. I've considered seeking treatment for my problem, but have not been able to locate a 12-step program dealing with this habit. I've been mostly successful in hiding my embarrassing behavior from others, but, occasionally, when guests are here, I am 'outed' and my actions are revealed. My family has all but given up on me, although periodic whispers about an 'intervention' do reach my ears.
What, you might inquire, is such publicly humiliating behavior that would warrant an 'intervention'?
I'll give you a hint. I do this with clinical precision, before ever running a task-related appliance.
Not guessed my dirty little secret yet?
I am a double-washer of dishes.
Yes, I confess, my dishes have every bio-hazard known to mankind removed BEFORE they ever reach the dishwasher. I've tried to overcome my compulsion to rinse EACH speck of food off before loading the items into the racks, but, to no avail. I am hopelessly caught in a web of compunction. No amount of teasing, threats, promises of chocolate, or bodily restraint have been effective nor, probably, will ever be. (The promise of a puppy might be effective!?) I will go to my earthly grave, with total confidence that, if I ever forget to run the dishwasher, I can remove any dish, plate, or cutlery item and eat with it..........immediately, knowing that the item is devoid of food or germ. As far as I'm concerned, the dishwasher is simply an agent of spot-freedom and no-wiping liberty.
In fact, as I've typed this blog, I've gained a personal conviction that there is nothing wrong with my behavior. Composing this blog has, today, enabled me to regain my confidence, signing off secure in the knowledge that there are more of you out there..........JUST LIKE ME, but you are not strong enough to admit it.
I've gone public, admitting to my weakness of washing before loading, and proud of it!
Ancora imparo
Actually, it is a secret about over-zealous cleaning.
This affliction has plagued me for years and has created many jokes in our family. I know my affliction is not 'green' and would be seen as wasteful by many an environmental crusader. I've considered seeking treatment for my problem, but have not been able to locate a 12-step program dealing with this habit. I've been mostly successful in hiding my embarrassing behavior from others, but, occasionally, when guests are here, I am 'outed' and my actions are revealed. My family has all but given up on me, although periodic whispers about an 'intervention' do reach my ears.
What, you might inquire, is such publicly humiliating behavior that would warrant an 'intervention'?
I'll give you a hint. I do this with clinical precision, before ever running a task-related appliance.
Not guessed my dirty little secret yet?
I am a double-washer of dishes.
Yes, I confess, my dishes have every bio-hazard known to mankind removed BEFORE they ever reach the dishwasher. I've tried to overcome my compulsion to rinse EACH speck of food off before loading the items into the racks, but, to no avail. I am hopelessly caught in a web of compunction. No amount of teasing, threats, promises of chocolate, or bodily restraint have been effective nor, probably, will ever be. (The promise of a puppy might be effective!?) I will go to my earthly grave, with total confidence that, if I ever forget to run the dishwasher, I can remove any dish, plate, or cutlery item and eat with it..........immediately, knowing that the item is devoid of food or germ. As far as I'm concerned, the dishwasher is simply an agent of spot-freedom and no-wiping liberty.
In fact, as I've typed this blog, I've gained a personal conviction that there is nothing wrong with my behavior. Composing this blog has, today, enabled me to regain my confidence, signing off secure in the knowledge that there are more of you out there..........JUST LIKE ME, but you are not strong enough to admit it.
I've gone public, admitting to my weakness of washing before loading, and proud of it!
Ancora imparo
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Speechless
This day, I am speechless.
Mother Nature is displaying her penchant for cruel jokes.
I observed inadequate, non-effective parenting yesterday that is resulting in the creation of a young tyrantice. (My word for a female tyrant.)
I attended the beautiful wedding of a young couple that has their whole life before them.
I received news of the death of a very dear man who died suddenly today, after an extremely short illness and an even shorter hospitalization. He leaves three stunned children, their spouses, and beloved grandchildren. His wife died after a long illness a number of years ago. It is inconceivable to me that the two of them are now deceased.
It leaves me speechless.........devoid of complaint or the ability to find fault with crooked politicians or greedy CEOs. My voice is silent today as I ponder just what God intended when he brought this vortex of experiences into life within the last twenty-four hours. I can't comprehend any Great Plan afoot, nor celestial purpose or coordination.
I do understand that the past twenty-four hours have brought a new beginning and a tragic ending. How do I process and assimilate all the emotions that have coursed through my head and heart?
I suppose it is the way of the world that Mother Nature trumps all, that great joy and tragedy can transpire concurrently and that some morning-words of my pastor keep running in my ear. "God is intentional regarding the symbols of this day." God put forth the symbols, now is it up to me, a mere mortal, to decipher those symbols?
If so, I am in trouble because I cannot fathom any purpose for the combination of observations that have recently occurred.
Today, it is difficult to sign........
Ancora imparo
Mother Nature is displaying her penchant for cruel jokes.
I observed inadequate, non-effective parenting yesterday that is resulting in the creation of a young tyrantice. (My word for a female tyrant.)
I attended the beautiful wedding of a young couple that has their whole life before them.
I received news of the death of a very dear man who died suddenly today, after an extremely short illness and an even shorter hospitalization. He leaves three stunned children, their spouses, and beloved grandchildren. His wife died after a long illness a number of years ago. It is inconceivable to me that the two of them are now deceased.
It leaves me speechless.........devoid of complaint or the ability to find fault with crooked politicians or greedy CEOs. My voice is silent today as I ponder just what God intended when he brought this vortex of experiences into life within the last twenty-four hours. I can't comprehend any Great Plan afoot, nor celestial purpose or coordination.
I do understand that the past twenty-four hours have brought a new beginning and a tragic ending. How do I process and assimilate all the emotions that have coursed through my head and heart?
I suppose it is the way of the world that Mother Nature trumps all, that great joy and tragedy can transpire concurrently and that some morning-words of my pastor keep running in my ear. "God is intentional regarding the symbols of this day." God put forth the symbols, now is it up to me, a mere mortal, to decipher those symbols?
If so, I am in trouble because I cannot fathom any purpose for the combination of observations that have recently occurred.
Today, it is difficult to sign........
Ancora imparo
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Three-year-old Justice
It has been over a week since I've been in the presence of The Little Voice (TLV) and I've thought about him many times. While I was helping to care for him, I realized there is a part of my phyche that can identify with the thought process of a three-year old. This conclusion scared the livin' daylights out of me until I came to understand that there is some logic to the structure of justice to a three-year old.
TLV's parents use the words 'obey' and 'disobey' while speaking to him in a discipline-needed situation, so while I was the OIC (One in Charge), I tried to use the same verbiage and procedures of his parents when the seldom-needed disciplinary moment arose between TLV and the OIC.
I'm sure he and I took liberties with discipline that would give his parents apoplexy but I'll never disclose where, when, how, or why. I'll protect my 'source' to the day I cease breathing.
To the point, however............
This week's news brought word that a person, formerly high within state government, was indicted on numerous counts of tom-foolery, hand-in-the-cookie jar, it-wasn't-what-it-appears, and downright dishonest behaviors and actions. Of course, we are hearing the inevitable "I'll fight to prove my innocence" rhetoric, which will result in even more taxpayer dollars being wasted on fees to cover court costs and the salaries of federal prosecutors and their lackeys.
This entire battery of purloinment charges could be settled quickly and quietly simply by applying the justice logic of a three-year old. For a TYO (three-year old..........I'm tired of typing that), here's how it should play out:
To the indicted former elected-state-leader: You disobeyed the rules and laws set forth by the State of Illinois and the federal government. Therefore you must suffer the consequences of the bad choices you made.
This translates to a 'time-out', in a crib-like structure, the length of which will be determined by the adults in charge. In this case..............say thirty to forty years? An appropriate consequence delivered with love and respect from the citizens of the State of Illinois.
Sounds logical to me.
Ancora imparo
TLV's parents use the words 'obey' and 'disobey' while speaking to him in a discipline-needed situation, so while I was the OIC (One in Charge), I tried to use the same verbiage and procedures of his parents when the seldom-needed disciplinary moment arose between TLV and the OIC.
I'm sure he and I took liberties with discipline that would give his parents apoplexy but I'll never disclose where, when, how, or why. I'll protect my 'source' to the day I cease breathing.
To the point, however............
This week's news brought word that a person, formerly high within state government, was indicted on numerous counts of tom-foolery, hand-in-the-cookie jar, it-wasn't-what-it-appears, and downright dishonest behaviors and actions. Of course, we are hearing the inevitable "I'll fight to prove my innocence" rhetoric, which will result in even more taxpayer dollars being wasted on fees to cover court costs and the salaries of federal prosecutors and their lackeys.
This entire battery of purloinment charges could be settled quickly and quietly simply by applying the justice logic of a three-year old. For a TYO (three-year old..........I'm tired of typing that), here's how it should play out:
To the indicted former elected-state-leader: You disobeyed the rules and laws set forth by the State of Illinois and the federal government. Therefore you must suffer the consequences of the bad choices you made.
This translates to a 'time-out', in a crib-like structure, the length of which will be determined by the adults in charge. In this case..............say thirty to forty years? An appropriate consequence delivered with love and respect from the citizens of the State of Illinois.
Sounds logical to me.
Ancora imparo
Friday, April 3, 2009
Theological Musings
Today I spent an extended amount of time in church. This would not be unusual except that this is a weekday and, sadly, today's purpose for being in church was to attend a funeral. The service was beautiful to me, an outsider, and, I hope, meaningful to the grieving family.
As regular readers know, I have been known to have 'light-hearted' thoughts while in church. I've thought about Muenster cheese and asterisks during the recent past and, as of late, I've had two other questions posed to me to ponder. Questions which may or may not have serious answers. I do believe that God has a sense of humor and, therefore, will forgive me as I smile inwardly and outwardly when considering answers that possibly may be on the lighter side than serious theologians would prefer.
"What is an ebenezer?" is a recent question posed to me.
The answer that came immediately to mind was "the first name of Mr. Scrooge, the now immortal central character in Charles Dickens' classic A Christmas Carol." But, because the question came shortly after singing a hymn with the text "Now I lift my Ebenezer", I was confident that my initial response was not theologically accurate. A number of other flippant choices popped into my head but I wisely kept them to myself.
Being the kind of person that stores volumes of useless information in my cerebral filling cabinet, I parked the question for future contemplation. That time for future contemplation came today and I was compelled by the Holy Spirit (I'm pretty sure.) to Google the word 'ebenezer'. (Isn't it amazing that the word 'google' has now become a verb?)
Sure enough, Google came through and I'm happy to report my findings for all of you who thirst for liturgical knowlege.
The following is a quote from Bob Prichard's web site house to house and heart to heart:
The phrase "Here I lift my Ebenezer", is the beginning of the second verse of the hymn "O Thou Fount of Every Blessing". This hymn.........stresses the joy of Christianity and the Christian's need to rely on the Lord. .......the phrase .......is chosen from Samuel 7:12 because it reminds God's people how He delivered Israel from danger......As a reminder of the great victory God gave to Israel, Samuel took a great stone and raised it as a memorial "between Mizpeh and Shen". As he raised it (the stone), he called the name of it Ebenezer (or stone of help).............When we sing "Here I raise my Ebenezer", we are poetically quoting Samuel, who raised the Ebenezer stone to remind the Israelites of God's help for them in their time of trouble.
The other question posed to me was "What do Protestants mumble as they partake the sacrament of Communion?" Since I've never uttered a word whilst taking Communion, I was without response to the query. But, this is good. It will provide me with greater focus during the next Communion Sunday. I will be on a journey of discovery and, therefore, will not let my mind wander to Muenster cheese or asterisks.
That is why my blog is titled:
Ancora imparo
As regular readers know, I have been known to have 'light-hearted' thoughts while in church. I've thought about Muenster cheese and asterisks during the recent past and, as of late, I've had two other questions posed to me to ponder. Questions which may or may not have serious answers. I do believe that God has a sense of humor and, therefore, will forgive me as I smile inwardly and outwardly when considering answers that possibly may be on the lighter side than serious theologians would prefer.
"What is an ebenezer?" is a recent question posed to me.
The answer that came immediately to mind was "the first name of Mr. Scrooge, the now immortal central character in Charles Dickens' classic A Christmas Carol." But, because the question came shortly after singing a hymn with the text "Now I lift my Ebenezer", I was confident that my initial response was not theologically accurate. A number of other flippant choices popped into my head but I wisely kept them to myself.
Being the kind of person that stores volumes of useless information in my cerebral filling cabinet, I parked the question for future contemplation. That time for future contemplation came today and I was compelled by the Holy Spirit (I'm pretty sure.) to Google the word 'ebenezer'. (Isn't it amazing that the word 'google' has now become a verb?)
Sure enough, Google came through and I'm happy to report my findings for all of you who thirst for liturgical knowlege.
The following is a quote from Bob Prichard's web site house to house and heart to heart:
The phrase "Here I lift my Ebenezer", is the beginning of the second verse of the hymn "O Thou Fount of Every Blessing". This hymn.........stresses the joy of Christianity and the Christian's need to rely on the Lord. .......the phrase .......is chosen from Samuel 7:12 because it reminds God's people how He delivered Israel from danger......As a reminder of the great victory God gave to Israel, Samuel took a great stone and raised it as a memorial "between Mizpeh and Shen". As he raised it (the stone), he called the name of it Ebenezer (or stone of help).............When we sing "Here I raise my Ebenezer", we are poetically quoting Samuel, who raised the Ebenezer stone to remind the Israelites of God's help for them in their time of trouble.
The other question posed to me was "What do Protestants mumble as they partake the sacrament of Communion?" Since I've never uttered a word whilst taking Communion, I was without response to the query. But, this is good. It will provide me with greater focus during the next Communion Sunday. I will be on a journey of discovery and, therefore, will not let my mind wander to Muenster cheese or asterisks.
That is why my blog is titled:
Ancora imparo
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Have You Noticed?
Human beings have a natural inclination to want to be near other humans.
I've noticed some situations that will almost always guarantee one human being near another.
Take a parking lot, for instance. I like to park far, far away from other vehicles for two reasons. Number One reason is that by parking far away from other vehicles, I dramatically lower the chances for someone else's car door to 'accidentally' nick my car. I am continually amazed at the ease with which people bang their car doors against other vehicles and casually walk away as if nothing had happened. Number Two reason is that by parking far, far away I get some additional exercise, which never hurts!
But, to my topic of conversation today, I can statistically predict with great accuracy that by parking far,far away, someone will be inspired to park RIGHT NEXT TO ME, which happened today.
The next scenario that I can predict, with great accuracy, where another person will feel compelled to 'park' adjacent to another person is in a public restroom. I do not understand the human compulsion to see a long row of open restroom stalls that has only one occupied stall and decide to 'use' a stall RIGHT NEXT TO THE OCCUPIED STALL. The human instinct to flock together must be very strong, indeed.
The same scenario will be played out in the waiting areas of doctors' offices and airport terminal boarding areas.
People just cannot stand to see another human alone. Do 'we' think that people who have obviously isolated themselves are automatically sending a non-verbal signal to "sit near me"?
I think I'll take a drive to the nearest airport long-term parking lot, park my car and go find a seat in the boarding area......then I'll use the public restroom. I'll be sure to have lots of friends by the time my plane departs!
Ancora imparo
I've noticed some situations that will almost always guarantee one human being near another.
Take a parking lot, for instance. I like to park far, far away from other vehicles for two reasons. Number One reason is that by parking far away from other vehicles, I dramatically lower the chances for someone else's car door to 'accidentally' nick my car. I am continually amazed at the ease with which people bang their car doors against other vehicles and casually walk away as if nothing had happened. Number Two reason is that by parking far, far away I get some additional exercise, which never hurts!
But, to my topic of conversation today, I can statistically predict with great accuracy that by parking far,far away, someone will be inspired to park RIGHT NEXT TO ME, which happened today.
The next scenario that I can predict, with great accuracy, where another person will feel compelled to 'park' adjacent to another person is in a public restroom. I do not understand the human compulsion to see a long row of open restroom stalls that has only one occupied stall and decide to 'use' a stall RIGHT NEXT TO THE OCCUPIED STALL. The human instinct to flock together must be very strong, indeed.
The same scenario will be played out in the waiting areas of doctors' offices and airport terminal boarding areas.
People just cannot stand to see another human alone. Do 'we' think that people who have obviously isolated themselves are automatically sending a non-verbal signal to "sit near me"?
I think I'll take a drive to the nearest airport long-term parking lot, park my car and go find a seat in the boarding area......then I'll use the public restroom. I'll be sure to have lots of friends by the time my plane departs!
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
One of the Greats
He's giving up his position after twenty years.
For twenty years, this man has been coaching a junior high boys team. For twenty years, this man has been a coach, role model, mentor, encourager, teacher, and cheerleader for the adolescent males he's worked with. For twenty years, I'm sure he's learned as much from them as he taught them.
I had the privilege of working with this man in the collective arena of teaching young people, molding the minds of young people, and making a positive difference in their lives. He personifies the type of individual that every public school teacher should aspire to be. He is humble, quiet-yet-firm, dedicated, skilled, inquisitive, and empathetic. He is also a Christian, although he keeps that side of his life "quiet" in the public school setting. He doesn't have to wear "Christian" on his sleeve. His faith, ethics, and moral code go with him wherever he is. Once, when I was in a particularly frustrating period of time, he left me a simple piece of a 3X5 note card - the teacher's indispensable tool. On it he wrote the following scripture, which I carry with me yet today: "Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." II Cor. 3:17
Fortunately this man will still serve in the classroom where he can continue his legacy of loving the art of teaching children. His "coaching" will now be for his students and his own offspring, where he can be part of the cheering crowd for his children and their teams.
He will always be a coach to students and adults alike, just as he was to me many years ago.
Coach, I salute you!
Ancora imparo
For twenty years, this man has been coaching a junior high boys team. For twenty years, this man has been a coach, role model, mentor, encourager, teacher, and cheerleader for the adolescent males he's worked with. For twenty years, I'm sure he's learned as much from them as he taught them.
I had the privilege of working with this man in the collective arena of teaching young people, molding the minds of young people, and making a positive difference in their lives. He personifies the type of individual that every public school teacher should aspire to be. He is humble, quiet-yet-firm, dedicated, skilled, inquisitive, and empathetic. He is also a Christian, although he keeps that side of his life "quiet" in the public school setting. He doesn't have to wear "Christian" on his sleeve. His faith, ethics, and moral code go with him wherever he is. Once, when I was in a particularly frustrating period of time, he left me a simple piece of a 3X5 note card - the teacher's indispensable tool. On it he wrote the following scripture, which I carry with me yet today: "Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." II Cor. 3:17
Fortunately this man will still serve in the classroom where he can continue his legacy of loving the art of teaching children. His "coaching" will now be for his students and his own offspring, where he can be part of the cheering crowd for his children and their teams.
He will always be a coach to students and adults alike, just as he was to me many years ago.
Coach, I salute you!
Ancora imparo
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