Ava went out with her friend Jayne today. Jayne used to be Ava's nurse and still comes by to take Ava out. They go to lunch, shopping, museums...whatever they want. They are an unlikely pair, considering one is 54 and one is 7, but they get along perfectly. Today they went swimming at the lake and back to Jayne's house for lunch and play. Ava has been asking if she is old enough to sleep over at Jayne's house. She told Jayne that "She would have to ask her Mom because Mom would have a lot of questions, and we don't want to shock Mom." Bless that child, she must know my nerves are shot.
I think I was about 7 when I began to sleep over at people's houses. (My first attempt, at age 3, was a disaster and ended with my poor father having to drive back to Brooklyn from Staten Island late at night to pick me up. My mother was in the hospital at the time since she had just given birth to my brother.)
I also remember crying once when I slept over at my best friend Donna's house; this resulted in Donna crying as well, but the whole mess was solved when Carol, Donna's mother, promised to make us extra large pancakes in the morning (excellent). Clever woman...she knew her target audience.
By far, the best sleepovers were at Grandma and Grandpa Salamo's house. I don't think I ever cried there; in fact, I think I jumped up and clicked my heels when everyone had gone. Most of the time I think my parents left me there on a Sunday after our visit and returned to claim me on a Tuesday.
Life at the Salamo's was far different than life at my house. For one thing, they lived in an apartment in Brooklyn, a far cry from my suburban Staten Island neighborhood. Not too mention that I was the only child there; my brothers were at home with my parents. This made me the center of attention (excellent). And for this reason I was happy to do anything that was asked of me, or cooperate with any plans my grandmother had. Grandma always wanted to go out, which was fine with me. Monday started with an Entenmann's corn muffin, toasted, and Sunday's re-heated coffee. I had Tropicana OJ rather than coffee, but this breakfast was delicious. Then we got dressed; my Grandma always wore a dress back then, and so I probably did too. We always took the bus or the subway to Manhattan, or sometimes to downtown Brooklyn. Being on the bus or subway was an adventure in itself; I was fascinated with the tokens that went into the box on the box, or the turnstile of the subway. There were so many people, and Grandma and I looked out the window and talked. She told me about the buildings and the places we were seeing. Sometimes we went shopping to Saks Fifth Avenue or Macys; A&S if we went to downtown Brooklyn. Grandma liked to shop.We always went out for lunch; it was always a little coffee shop, but it might as well have been Sardi's. I LOVED going out for lunch and ordering anything I wanted from the menu.
As I got a little older, Grandma took me to the museums, the Botanical Gardens, movies, Radio City or theatre shows. I am sure I would have groaned with boredom if my parents had suggested going to the Botanical Gardens, but with Grandma, it was different. She listened to me in a way others did not, and talked to me in a way she likely didn't talk to anyone else. We shared a lot. Wherever we went, we always got home in time to give Grandpa his dinner. He was always in his chair, reading the paper, and would peer at us when we came in, wondering what there was to eat. Most Monday nights it was leftovers from Sunday (excellent). We ate quietly in the kitchen and then changed into our pjs.
Grandpa always wanted to watch the ball game, which was usually on since our sleepovers took place mostly in summer (when school was out). But Grandpa would be snoring in his chair by 9 pm and Grandma took over the TV. We watched MASH and then Lou Grant. I didn't make one sound during any of the TV shows, mostly because I didn't want to be sent to bed. Funny thing is, they never sent me to bed...I just stayed up until they went to bed (excellent). It didn't matter that i didn't understand most of what was going on on Lou Grant; I knew the character from watching The Mary Tyler Moore Show as a younger child, but Lou Grant was a drama and dealt with some fairly mature issues. Sometimes we'd watch the 11 o'clock news and then go to bed. Mind you one of those summers was the Summer of Sam, and so I knew more about the Son of Sam than any other 10-year old around. I even remember when they caught him.
Grandpa, bless his grumpy little heart, slept on the sofa bed and I slept in the big bed with Grandma. We would chat in the morning and then Grandma would do these crazy stretching exercises, which I did too. I didn't care...I was just looking forward to lunch. I guess I was happy to see my parents on Tuesday evening, but I could have stayed at Grandma's for a month. My grandparent's treated me like I was the most precious gift they had ever received; they let me do mostly whatever I wanted; and they never sent me to bed. I thought they were the best people on Earth. Somehow I think they are the best people in heaven too.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Just Beachin'
Ah Memorial Day weekend...the official opening of summer when everyone and their brother is out trying to have the time of their life. I like a long weekend as much as anyone, although for a stay-at-home Mom, weekends don't differ much from weekdays. The traffic going down to the CT shoreline beaches was long and winding when I went zooming past it, going in the opposite direction, earlier today. CT beaches are not very big (mind you I'm comparing them to Long Island beaches, such as Jones Beach, so maybe to say they are not that big is unfair). In any case, they will be packed this weekend will all those who MUST be at the beach the day it friggin opens.
We were chatting with my parents at the dinner table last night about the beach. I've concluded that there are several stages of "beach going" we all experience as we go through life.
The first stage is Beach as a Kid (BK for short). BK is the best stage. Your only jobs are to put on your bathing suit, and once at the beach, make sure your parents don't get an ounce of peace. Between running back and forth to the water, trips to the bathroom, asking for snacks, begging for ice cream and looking for beach toys, this is a full day's worth of work. And let's not forget asking your mother for the time every 50 seconds during the mandatory "30-minute after eating before you can return to to the water" waiting period. Whoever came up with this did herself, and every other parent, a great disservice.
Then there's the Beach as a Young Adult (BYA). BYA is lots of fun because basically, you grab a towel, a swim suit, and a cooler full of beer and get in the car and go. You plop down on beach, drink beer, and pass out in the sun, while getting a tan. During the BYA phase, you likely look very good in your bathing suit and strut around proudly during your trips to the ocean to cool off. Also, the trip to the beach is merely the start of the day at this point...there's more partying later on in the evening and into the night.
And then there's the Beach as Parents stage (BP). This stage is fairly tiresome and not for the faint of heart. The night before, you search frantically among the Christmas decorations, Halloween costumes, and Valentine's Day cards for the beach stuff. This includes, but is not limited to: beach chairs for everyone, huge umbrella, at least one towel per person, coolers, sunscreen, hats, bathing suits, flip flops, sand toys, Frisbees, floats, swim vests, etc. Then one has to pack all of this into two small bags because 2 adults can only carry so much.
In the morning one adult has to load all this crap into the car, while the other feverishly dresses the children, packs the lunch, fills the cooler, feeds them breakfast, lathers them with sunscreen, and gets them into the car. After sitting in traffic forever, listening to "ARE WE THERE YET?", and paying $10 for parking, the parents must unload the children, all the gear, and then schlep all the gear to find a spot. Since you are probably late, you get to squeeze between a family with screaming infant triplets and some BYA's with their music blaring. (Next, see BK paragraph above for all the things the kids do at the beach that you now get to endure.) And when the day's done, you get to schlep that same gear, plus your sunburned, sand-covered children, back to the car. When you get home Mom usually throws the kids in the tub while Dad rinses off all the sand and cleans out the car. Doing this once is enough to make you never want to see the ocean again.
I imagine there's a fourth stage, the Beach as a Retired person stage (BR).BR is probably almost as good as BYA, except you have coffee to drink and likely have a tent over your bathing suit. You can sit in peace, maybe take a dip in the water, and get the hell out of there as soon as the BP's come.
Here's to another summer...
We were chatting with my parents at the dinner table last night about the beach. I've concluded that there are several stages of "beach going" we all experience as we go through life.
The first stage is Beach as a Kid (BK for short). BK is the best stage. Your only jobs are to put on your bathing suit, and once at the beach, make sure your parents don't get an ounce of peace. Between running back and forth to the water, trips to the bathroom, asking for snacks, begging for ice cream and looking for beach toys, this is a full day's worth of work. And let's not forget asking your mother for the time every 50 seconds during the mandatory "30-minute after eating before you can return to to the water" waiting period. Whoever came up with this did herself, and every other parent, a great disservice.
Then there's the Beach as a Young Adult (BYA). BYA is lots of fun because basically, you grab a towel, a swim suit, and a cooler full of beer and get in the car and go. You plop down on beach, drink beer, and pass out in the sun, while getting a tan. During the BYA phase, you likely look very good in your bathing suit and strut around proudly during your trips to the ocean to cool off. Also, the trip to the beach is merely the start of the day at this point...there's more partying later on in the evening and into the night.
And then there's the Beach as Parents stage (BP). This stage is fairly tiresome and not for the faint of heart. The night before, you search frantically among the Christmas decorations, Halloween costumes, and Valentine's Day cards for the beach stuff. This includes, but is not limited to: beach chairs for everyone, huge umbrella, at least one towel per person, coolers, sunscreen, hats, bathing suits, flip flops, sand toys, Frisbees, floats, swim vests, etc. Then one has to pack all of this into two small bags because 2 adults can only carry so much.
In the morning one adult has to load all this crap into the car, while the other feverishly dresses the children, packs the lunch, fills the cooler, feeds them breakfast, lathers them with sunscreen, and gets them into the car. After sitting in traffic forever, listening to "ARE WE THERE YET?", and paying $10 for parking, the parents must unload the children, all the gear, and then schlep all the gear to find a spot. Since you are probably late, you get to squeeze between a family with screaming infant triplets and some BYA's with their music blaring. (Next, see BK paragraph above for all the things the kids do at the beach that you now get to endure.) And when the day's done, you get to schlep that same gear, plus your sunburned, sand-covered children, back to the car. When you get home Mom usually throws the kids in the tub while Dad rinses off all the sand and cleans out the car. Doing this once is enough to make you never want to see the ocean again.
I imagine there's a fourth stage, the Beach as a Retired person stage (BR).BR is probably almost as good as BYA, except you have coffee to drink and likely have a tent over your bathing suit. You can sit in peace, maybe take a dip in the water, and get the hell out of there as soon as the BP's come.
Here's to another summer...
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Kids Today...
Last week Malcolm and I were driving and a few 20-somethings were crossing the street. We resurrected a conversation we've been having for a few weeks: Tattoos seem to be mandatory for people of this age. We laughed as we thought of how we sounded "old"...talking about "kids these days and their crazy tats" (short for tattoos, because that's the hip lingo). When I think of tats I think of 2 things: pain and hepatitis, neither of which I want. I do not feel passionately enough about anything to have it permanently engraved in ink on my skin.
Things have changed a lot over the years for me. I am not sure how I went from 16 to 42, but it happened. I recall a time when 4o was ancient, something I am sure some of my students think when they look at me. I usually work with young children, but sometimes work with high school students. High school students have no idea how easy they've got it. (See, only old people say that.) My student today brought in his Geography project on world religions. He had to pick a religion and make a poster about it. When I went to high school, that would have been the extent of the directions. This kid brought me a 2-page document. The first page had a list of the things the poster should include. There were 10 categories and each was listed like this: 1) Origin of religion a) Why did it start? b) When did it start? List at least 5 major milestones in this religion's development. Include a visual.
On the reverse was what we teachers call a rubric, or a list of criteria on which your project will be graded. It lists how it will be graded (Creativity, Neatness, Level of detail, Clarity, etc.). It then lists what constitutes Excellent, Good, Pair, Poor.
So basically, you get an outline to follow, and if you follow the written instructions you are guaranteed at least a B. If you make the extra effort - and the rubric tells you what is considered the extra effort - you can easily get an A. We got our papers back with some random letter or number grade, with no clue as to why or how we got it.
So, imagine my annoyance when my student handed me 3 pages of random sentences about Christianity not in any order, or organized in any fashion. I asked him if this was all he'd done; of course, it was. I xeroxed his "notes" and had him write the 10 categories (and their accompanying questions to answer) each on a piece of paper. We then cut up his sentences and taped them under each category, to form a rudimentary outline. I helped him fill in some of the gaps, but he still has a long way to go to even meet the basic requirements.
I guess it irritates me that the students basically get handed an outline of what to do and if they simply do just that they can get a decent grade. Yet, many kids don't even bother to do this. They are being handed a gift of an assignment, and don't even realize how easy it is, especially with resources like the Internet. Now I will admit that maybe it seems easy to me, because I am 42, not 15; but, even at that, if you can't finish this kind of assignment with at least a B, I don't hold out much hope for you. Tests are the same. Kids bring in a "study guide" for a test, which is basically the test; all they need to do is complete the answers and they have the info they need to ace the test. But they don't bother to do it,and I'm not sure why. Most of them are smart enough; they just don't care, and their parents don't bother to impose any expectations on them.
I got good grades in high school, not because I cared a whole lot about school work, but because my parents basically said I had to do my best or no social life. Mo-ti-va-she-own! Not every student is an A student; some kids will try hard and earn lower grades, but that's OK if that's their best. I tell my daughter that I expect her to do her best, and I also help her with her schoolwork. I am not Parent of the Year, but I do think it's part of my job as a mother. A lot of kids I see don't have parental help at all.
And so, as I lament the current state of our youth, I begin to take my place as a middle-aged grump. Don't even get me started on that noise they call music...
Things have changed a lot over the years for me. I am not sure how I went from 16 to 42, but it happened. I recall a time when 4o was ancient, something I am sure some of my students think when they look at me. I usually work with young children, but sometimes work with high school students. High school students have no idea how easy they've got it. (See, only old people say that.) My student today brought in his Geography project on world religions. He had to pick a religion and make a poster about it. When I went to high school, that would have been the extent of the directions. This kid brought me a 2-page document. The first page had a list of the things the poster should include. There were 10 categories and each was listed like this: 1) Origin of religion a) Why did it start? b) When did it start? List at least 5 major milestones in this religion's development. Include a visual.
On the reverse was what we teachers call a rubric, or a list of criteria on which your project will be graded. It lists how it will be graded (Creativity, Neatness, Level of detail, Clarity, etc.). It then lists what constitutes Excellent, Good, Pair, Poor.
So basically, you get an outline to follow, and if you follow the written instructions you are guaranteed at least a B. If you make the extra effort - and the rubric tells you what is considered the extra effort - you can easily get an A. We got our papers back with some random letter or number grade, with no clue as to why or how we got it.
So, imagine my annoyance when my student handed me 3 pages of random sentences about Christianity not in any order, or organized in any fashion. I asked him if this was all he'd done; of course, it was. I xeroxed his "notes" and had him write the 10 categories (and their accompanying questions to answer) each on a piece of paper. We then cut up his sentences and taped them under each category, to form a rudimentary outline. I helped him fill in some of the gaps, but he still has a long way to go to even meet the basic requirements.
I guess it irritates me that the students basically get handed an outline of what to do and if they simply do just that they can get a decent grade. Yet, many kids don't even bother to do this. They are being handed a gift of an assignment, and don't even realize how easy it is, especially with resources like the Internet. Now I will admit that maybe it seems easy to me, because I am 42, not 15; but, even at that, if you can't finish this kind of assignment with at least a B, I don't hold out much hope for you. Tests are the same. Kids bring in a "study guide" for a test, which is basically the test; all they need to do is complete the answers and they have the info they need to ace the test. But they don't bother to do it,and I'm not sure why. Most of them are smart enough; they just don't care, and their parents don't bother to impose any expectations on them.
I got good grades in high school, not because I cared a whole lot about school work, but because my parents basically said I had to do my best or no social life. Mo-ti-va-she-own! Not every student is an A student; some kids will try hard and earn lower grades, but that's OK if that's their best. I tell my daughter that I expect her to do her best, and I also help her with her schoolwork. I am not Parent of the Year, but I do think it's part of my job as a mother. A lot of kids I see don't have parental help at all.
And so, as I lament the current state of our youth, I begin to take my place as a middle-aged grump. Don't even get me started on that noise they call music...
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Does Anyone Really Care What x Equals?
Math and I have never been friends. Let me re-state that: Higher mathematics and I have never been friends. I can do - and find useful - basic math operation: addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. I also think it's a good idea to know your basic shapes and how to find area and perimeter, as these are useful when designing a garden or measuring a room. Speaking of measurement...another good skill...comes in handy many ways. I also think decimals and percents are useful, as these help you calculate sale items when at the mall. Beyond this...well, I'm not sure who came up with the rest of the stuff.
Actually I am pretty sure higher mathematics developed because people were bored. No TV to watch, no pubs to visit; they already contemplated their existence and life's meaning so why not play with numbers? Actually I have no idea when or who started higher mathematics, and quite frankly, I don't really care. (Obviously I am also poor at history.) I do, however, have a bone to pick with whoever started this nonsense.
Let's take algebra for instance. Yesterday one of my students, who I usually do not tutor in math, brought me his algebra (insert gasp) homework. It looked something like this:
y=2x-1/4
2y=3/4x-1
First of all, who the hell ever thought of inserting letters into math problems? They were fine with all digits, as far as I'm concerned. Then he had to plot these equations on a graph and solve for both letters. Then he had to list the points where the 2 points intersected. Huh?
Now I can do this:
2x=6
I may be even able to do the kinds of problems where you have to get all the x's on one side or something like that, but solve for 2 letters and graph the equations ? I had no clue what to do AT ALL. He mentioned something about "rise over run" and rise and run is exactly what I wanted to do. Apparently this means something different in algebra. Something to do with a slope.
I could not help him at all. I didn't even know where to start. I'm sure he thought I was dumb as a rock, but I really just hate math that I view as completely pointless. When, in life, have I ever had to calculate a slope? I am sure my engineer husband could quote me a thousand uses for algebra, but since I don't do any of those things it means nothing to me. In fact, I bet it means nothing to most people.
Here's an idea: Why not save the algebra, trigonometry and calculus for students who plan to go into careers where this knowledge is helpful? These classes could be taken as electives in high school or college. I think schools should spend more time teaching useful math skills such as:
The Stock Market: Friend or Foe?
What IS the Economy and How Does it Work?
How to Save for Retirement-It's Closer than You Think
What Credit Really Is and How Long It Will REALLY Take you to Pay Off that Fancy Cell Phone
How to Pay Bills-On Time
What is a Mutual Fund Anyway?
Honestly, I think courses in how to manage finances, how to negotiate a mortgage, or where to invest your money are far more useful to the average person than graphing equations. You should be able to read a financial document and understand it before you cosign it, rather than be able to calculate the cosine of some angle. (Go ahead...ask me how long it took me to come up with that one.)
Actually I am pretty sure higher mathematics developed because people were bored. No TV to watch, no pubs to visit; they already contemplated their existence and life's meaning so why not play with numbers? Actually I have no idea when or who started higher mathematics, and quite frankly, I don't really care. (Obviously I am also poor at history.) I do, however, have a bone to pick with whoever started this nonsense.
Let's take algebra for instance. Yesterday one of my students, who I usually do not tutor in math, brought me his algebra (insert gasp) homework. It looked something like this:
y=2x-1/4
2y=3/4x-1
First of all, who the hell ever thought of inserting letters into math problems? They were fine with all digits, as far as I'm concerned. Then he had to plot these equations on a graph and solve for both letters. Then he had to list the points where the 2 points intersected. Huh?
Now I can do this:
2x=6
I may be even able to do the kinds of problems where you have to get all the x's on one side or something like that, but solve for 2 letters and graph the equations ? I had no clue what to do AT ALL. He mentioned something about "rise over run" and rise and run is exactly what I wanted to do. Apparently this means something different in algebra. Something to do with a slope.
I could not help him at all. I didn't even know where to start. I'm sure he thought I was dumb as a rock, but I really just hate math that I view as completely pointless. When, in life, have I ever had to calculate a slope? I am sure my engineer husband could quote me a thousand uses for algebra, but since I don't do any of those things it means nothing to me. In fact, I bet it means nothing to most people.
Here's an idea: Why not save the algebra, trigonometry and calculus for students who plan to go into careers where this knowledge is helpful? These classes could be taken as electives in high school or college. I think schools should spend more time teaching useful math skills such as:
The Stock Market: Friend or Foe?
What IS the Economy and How Does it Work?
How to Save for Retirement-It's Closer than You Think
What Credit Really Is and How Long It Will REALLY Take you to Pay Off that Fancy Cell Phone
How to Pay Bills-On Time
What is a Mutual Fund Anyway?
Honestly, I think courses in how to manage finances, how to negotiate a mortgage, or where to invest your money are far more useful to the average person than graphing equations. You should be able to read a financial document and understand it before you cosign it, rather than be able to calculate the cosine of some angle. (Go ahead...ask me how long it took me to come up with that one.)
Friday, March 26, 2010
Well I just looked at my blog and realized that I have hit 50 posts! Fifty posts about silly little things. I guess it's the silver anniversary of The Whiner.
It's funny, I have always enjoyed writing. I don't think I am clever enough to do it for a living, although I wouldn't mind giving it a go. I mean, if people like Jenny McCarthy can get books published...well, I'd like to think I am a little smarter than she is (if not nearly as "hot").
I often think of people and their talents. Some people are amazingly creative, some are gifted in athletics, some are great with facts and figures, and others are musically talented. There are way too many different talents to list. I often moan and groan that teaching was a poor career choice. I suppose I am good with children to an extent, but I find as I grow older I have less and less patience. I am good with a couple at a time, but a whole room full...well, it's not as appealing as it once was. I often lament that I should have been a plumber or an electrician, even though I have no interest in these areas. However, these professionals are always needed, and they make good money. I know, since I have to pay them to do any work I need.
I also often think what I would have been really bad at. I know that sentence is not grammatically correct, but I can't figure out how to say it any other way. Here are a few examples:
I would have been a very bad saint. If a group of Romans came up to me in the early years of Christianity I don't think I would have stood up for the faith. "What's that you say? Denounce my belief in Jesus or you'll tie me to that pole and burn me alive?" I am ashamed to say it, but I think my answer would have been "Jesus who?"
I would have been a very poor pioneer, and I don't mean financially. If my husband came home one afternoon after hunting rabbits and asked me to move from my cozy log cabin in Wisconsin to the flat lands of Kansas territory, which was filled with angry Indians at the time, I think my answer would have been a resounding "NO". "I"m sorry, but I am SO NOT getting in that godforsaken wagon and traveling 200 miles to the middle of friggin' nowhere. This place is bad enough as it is."
I don't think I would have been a good plantation girl. As much as I love Gone with the Wind, and think Scarlett O'Hara is a scream, there is no way anyone would have stuffed me into those corsets and huge hoop skirts in that southern heat. Not to mention that I would have had a real problem with owning slaves. I don't care what anyone says about "Well everyone did it and it was just a part of the times." Everyone, even back then, knew that owning another human being was wrong. Fiddle dee dee...
Now here are some things I might have excelled at:
I would have been a good bootlegger or speakeasy girl during Prohibition. I don't know who's idea that ever was, but it was a dumb idea. I like my drinkee poos now and I would have liked them then; I don't think the law would have gotten in my way.
I would have been one of those Rosie the Riveter girls. Husband stuck in WWII? Me at home, in a frumpy Donna Reed frock? Snoozers! I would have stuck a cigarette in my mouth and been on that assembly line in no time.
I think I would have been a really good hippie. I was born in the summer of love, much too young to enjoy the revelry that was going on at the time. Having lived in San Francisco for 8 years, I know I would have loved that time. I am somewhat of a rebel and probably would have enjoyed the protests just for the sake of the argument.
I also wonder if I could have been a doctor. I was immature when I went to college and never took any of it very seriously. Now that I am older I wish I had realized that a college education was a gift (Thanks Mom and Dad) and I should have thought more seriously about a career choice. Oh well. If i had been a doctor it would have been the research type. I think I could make it through med school, but I would never make it through residency and staying up for 36 hours at a time. I like my sleep. Plus I don't really like touching icky people. But...i could do research...
Anyway, whatever our talents, it's important that we use them for good purposes. And so I shall take my talent for tasting fine wine and head downstairs for a good nap.
It's funny, I have always enjoyed writing. I don't think I am clever enough to do it for a living, although I wouldn't mind giving it a go. I mean, if people like Jenny McCarthy can get books published...well, I'd like to think I am a little smarter than she is (if not nearly as "hot").
I often think of people and their talents. Some people are amazingly creative, some are gifted in athletics, some are great with facts and figures, and others are musically talented. There are way too many different talents to list. I often moan and groan that teaching was a poor career choice. I suppose I am good with children to an extent, but I find as I grow older I have less and less patience. I am good with a couple at a time, but a whole room full...well, it's not as appealing as it once was. I often lament that I should have been a plumber or an electrician, even though I have no interest in these areas. However, these professionals are always needed, and they make good money. I know, since I have to pay them to do any work I need.
I also often think what I would have been really bad at. I know that sentence is not grammatically correct, but I can't figure out how to say it any other way. Here are a few examples:
I would have been a very bad saint. If a group of Romans came up to me in the early years of Christianity I don't think I would have stood up for the faith. "What's that you say? Denounce my belief in Jesus or you'll tie me to that pole and burn me alive?" I am ashamed to say it, but I think my answer would have been "Jesus who?"
I would have been a very poor pioneer, and I don't mean financially. If my husband came home one afternoon after hunting rabbits and asked me to move from my cozy log cabin in Wisconsin to the flat lands of Kansas territory, which was filled with angry Indians at the time, I think my answer would have been a resounding "NO". "I"m sorry, but I am SO NOT getting in that godforsaken wagon and traveling 200 miles to the middle of friggin' nowhere. This place is bad enough as it is."
I don't think I would have been a good plantation girl. As much as I love Gone with the Wind, and think Scarlett O'Hara is a scream, there is no way anyone would have stuffed me into those corsets and huge hoop skirts in that southern heat. Not to mention that I would have had a real problem with owning slaves. I don't care what anyone says about "Well everyone did it and it was just a part of the times." Everyone, even back then, knew that owning another human being was wrong. Fiddle dee dee...
Now here are some things I might have excelled at:
I would have been a good bootlegger or speakeasy girl during Prohibition. I don't know who's idea that ever was, but it was a dumb idea. I like my drinkee poos now and I would have liked them then; I don't think the law would have gotten in my way.
I would have been one of those Rosie the Riveter girls. Husband stuck in WWII? Me at home, in a frumpy Donna Reed frock? Snoozers! I would have stuck a cigarette in my mouth and been on that assembly line in no time.
I think I would have been a really good hippie. I was born in the summer of love, much too young to enjoy the revelry that was going on at the time. Having lived in San Francisco for 8 years, I know I would have loved that time. I am somewhat of a rebel and probably would have enjoyed the protests just for the sake of the argument.
I also wonder if I could have been a doctor. I was immature when I went to college and never took any of it very seriously. Now that I am older I wish I had realized that a college education was a gift (Thanks Mom and Dad) and I should have thought more seriously about a career choice. Oh well. If i had been a doctor it would have been the research type. I think I could make it through med school, but I would never make it through residency and staying up for 36 hours at a time. I like my sleep. Plus I don't really like touching icky people. But...i could do research...
Anyway, whatever our talents, it's important that we use them for good purposes. And so I shall take my talent for tasting fine wine and head downstairs for a good nap.
Friday, March 5, 2010
"Hello, Is There an Expert in the House?"
Since I am a stay-at-home Mom I have a little routine I follow. After putting Ava on the bus I have my breakfast and coffee, while I catch up on email and Facebook, and do a few other computer chores. I do this for about an hour before I start my "housework." I use this term loosely as I am the world's worst housekeeper, although I almost always cook (I have my priorities).
In any event, I often turn on the Today show while I do my computer thing, since I like to see the weather report and occasionally get a good piece of information. I have noticed that the Today show, along with all the other morning shows, has their resident "experts" in various fields, such as finance, nutrition, and medicine. Every few days, these experts come on with some tidbits of advice. Part of the segment is a piece where people either call, email, or web cam in their questions. I find this amusing.
Last week the stick-like nutrition expert was on. She's always got lots of tips on eating whole grains, saving your one glass of wine a week for a party, and having just a bite of cake. Whatever. This woman, who appeared to be about 30, web cams in her questions which was: "Many of the recipes I have make such large portions. I am single and the leftovers often go to waste. What should I do? Stickly's "expert advice was to "make the whole recipe, and freeze the rest in single-serving portions." Now wait a minute. The caller couldn't figure that out for herself? She got to the age of 30 and never thought of freezing the leftovers? And then the expert advice is to use the freezer? I could have told anyone that!
Another web cam caller phoned into the financial expert. Her question was: "We need a bigger house, but we owe more on our house that it's worth. Is there some sort of program that would allow us to roll the amount we owe on our mortgage (that is above the home's value) into a new mortgage on a new house?" Gee there's a swell idea! You're already in over your head so why not get yourself in even deeper? The finance lady told her "There is no such program (I could tell she wanted to add "you dumb ass"). she continued, "Your best bet is to stick it out in your current house and save some cash to pay down your debt before you buy another house." Wow how smart! Again I could have told her that too. I need, or rather want, a bigger house, but I can't afford it so I won't buy one yet.
I'm not sure how people got so dumb. I am not sure where they learned their life skills. Most of the questions they ask can be answered with simple common sense, something many people seem to lack. They rely on so-called experts, who are likely drawing big salaries for dispensing information that is, again, just basic common sense.
Perhaps I should market myself as an expert in something...I think maybe Housework Avoidance, as this seems to be my area of strength. Call me anytime!
In any event, I often turn on the Today show while I do my computer thing, since I like to see the weather report and occasionally get a good piece of information. I have noticed that the Today show, along with all the other morning shows, has their resident "experts" in various fields, such as finance, nutrition, and medicine. Every few days, these experts come on with some tidbits of advice. Part of the segment is a piece where people either call, email, or web cam in their questions. I find this amusing.
Last week the stick-like nutrition expert was on. She's always got lots of tips on eating whole grains, saving your one glass of wine a week for a party, and having just a bite of cake. Whatever. This woman, who appeared to be about 30, web cams in her questions which was: "Many of the recipes I have make such large portions. I am single and the leftovers often go to waste. What should I do? Stickly's "expert advice was to "make the whole recipe, and freeze the rest in single-serving portions." Now wait a minute. The caller couldn't figure that out for herself? She got to the age of 30 and never thought of freezing the leftovers? And then the expert advice is to use the freezer? I could have told anyone that!
Another web cam caller phoned into the financial expert. Her question was: "We need a bigger house, but we owe more on our house that it's worth. Is there some sort of program that would allow us to roll the amount we owe on our mortgage (that is above the home's value) into a new mortgage on a new house?" Gee there's a swell idea! You're already in over your head so why not get yourself in even deeper? The finance lady told her "There is no such program (I could tell she wanted to add "you dumb ass"). she continued, "Your best bet is to stick it out in your current house and save some cash to pay down your debt before you buy another house." Wow how smart! Again I could have told her that too. I need, or rather want, a bigger house, but I can't afford it so I won't buy one yet.
I'm not sure how people got so dumb. I am not sure where they learned their life skills. Most of the questions they ask can be answered with simple common sense, something many people seem to lack. They rely on so-called experts, who are likely drawing big salaries for dispensing information that is, again, just basic common sense.
Perhaps I should market myself as an expert in something...I think maybe Housework Avoidance, as this seems to be my area of strength. Call me anytime!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Please Stand for Our Opening Hymn (NOOOO!)
Yesterday was Sunday and is my new routine, I went to St. Mary's for the 10:30 service. We have a small parish with only 2 masses: 8:00 and 10:30. (There is also a 5pm mass on Saturday.) Anyway, the 10:30 mass is by far the more popular because not many people like to be up early. There is an adequate parking lot and some street parking. Even though I usually screech in at the last minute and race past Father before he starts his procession down the aisle, I never have trouble parking. Yesterday I was early by at least 5 minutes. I pulled into the lot and every spot was filled. Every single one. I am not sure if there was a cash giveaway for attending mass yesterday but there was no place for me to park. So I had to change strategies: I decided to grocery shop before mass, instead of after as I had planned, and then attend the noon Express Mass I wrote about a few weeks ago.
Having finished my grocery shopping early I was 15 minutes early for Mass. I went into the church and stopped dead in my tracks when I heard an ominous sound: the sound of a church organ. If you read this blog, you'll recall that the Express Mass has no singing, no fancy prayers...it's just a straight up mass. So I began to panic. All kinds of thoughts raced through my head. "I KNEW it was too good to be true! The organist must have been on a religious mission to Somalia and is now back!" Then I heard something that was even more disturbing...the sound of a choir. And it was a very good choir at that. They were singing all kinds of long Hosannas in the Highest, various Psalms and hymns. I think I actually broke out in a cold sweat. "I know what's happened," I thought, "they've changed the Express Mass to the choir mass and I'll be here forever." And then suddenly the music stopped. I checked behind me a few times to see if the organist or choir were returning. I saw Father Speed come up to the alter and fling his sermon notes onto the chair like they were a comic book. And then he said "Please stand for our opening prayer."
Ah the relief. It was unchanged. There was still no singing, Father Speed gave his usual 7-minute sermon and the Express Mass was done is 37 minutes flat. I timed it. I had just enough time to run into Home Goods to see if they had any more of those candles that smelled like glazed doughnuts.
This disturbs me in some way. I feel like I should enjoy the church music and not dread each verse that drones out of the organ. (By the way, how did the organ become official musical instrument of the Catholic Church? Every church has one and why? Why not a piano or a saxophone? Where does one even learn to play the organ?) But the hymns they play are these long, dreary dirges. They are not filled with positive energy or happiness. Those Gospel choirs have the right idea. They fill a church with spiritual music and they dance around, happy as clams. Why can't our churches have that? Why do we have to sing these awful songs that no one sings anyway?
Well, in any event, I was relieved to find that my Express mass was still intact, although sad that there were no more Glazed Doughnut candles. I guess we can't have everything! Amen.
Having finished my grocery shopping early I was 15 minutes early for Mass. I went into the church and stopped dead in my tracks when I heard an ominous sound: the sound of a church organ. If you read this blog, you'll recall that the Express Mass has no singing, no fancy prayers...it's just a straight up mass. So I began to panic. All kinds of thoughts raced through my head. "I KNEW it was too good to be true! The organist must have been on a religious mission to Somalia and is now back!" Then I heard something that was even more disturbing...the sound of a choir. And it was a very good choir at that. They were singing all kinds of long Hosannas in the Highest, various Psalms and hymns. I think I actually broke out in a cold sweat. "I know what's happened," I thought, "they've changed the Express Mass to the choir mass and I'll be here forever." And then suddenly the music stopped. I checked behind me a few times to see if the organist or choir were returning. I saw Father Speed come up to the alter and fling his sermon notes onto the chair like they were a comic book. And then he said "Please stand for our opening prayer."
Ah the relief. It was unchanged. There was still no singing, Father Speed gave his usual 7-minute sermon and the Express Mass was done is 37 minutes flat. I timed it. I had just enough time to run into Home Goods to see if they had any more of those candles that smelled like glazed doughnuts.
This disturbs me in some way. I feel like I should enjoy the church music and not dread each verse that drones out of the organ. (By the way, how did the organ become official musical instrument of the Catholic Church? Every church has one and why? Why not a piano or a saxophone? Where does one even learn to play the organ?) But the hymns they play are these long, dreary dirges. They are not filled with positive energy or happiness. Those Gospel choirs have the right idea. They fill a church with spiritual music and they dance around, happy as clams. Why can't our churches have that? Why do we have to sing these awful songs that no one sings anyway?
Well, in any event, I was relieved to find that my Express mass was still intact, although sad that there were no more Glazed Doughnut candles. I guess we can't have everything! Amen.
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