I don't know how your holiday was but if you're older than 25, then the days of getting up early for an exciting Christmas day filled with magic are possibly over. Don't get me wrong. I had family, love and gifts in great abundance. The concerts I couldn't attend were broadcasted from Atlanta's own WABE. And my granddaughter, at age three, is now able to really get into the festivities.
But here are the other highlights of my holiday:
1 - I had to deal with an outstanding arrest warrant (no, not mine) of someone who later got Christmas gifts for his friend's mother.
2 - I received two Christmas party invitations. The first was from someone close enough to be called family, a warmly worded invitation. The second invitation, filled with unexpected venom and sarcasm --- confirmed by other family members --- came from, you guessed it: family.
What I do to combat negativity directed at me is to sprinkle my life with sitcoms. My list?
Frasier, Sanford & Son, Good Times (Ain't We Lucky We Got 'Em?), The Jeffersons and ESPECIALLY Married With Children.
My favorite health food is brownies. When I combine them with my shows, I can and do achieve the peace that comes of the knowledge that my family ain't the Bundy's!
Peace!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Christmas Holiday Traditions
Our family holiday tradition has always included attending the Spelman and Morehouse College Glee Clubs Christmas extravaganza. This year I deviated and, by special invitation, attended the program presented by Tuskegee University's Golden Voices Concert Choir. The director, Dr. Wayne A. Barr, was brilliant, the musicians exceptionally gifted, the soloists represented God's gifts of musical excellence, and the musical selections varied and difficult in execution. The Adeste Fideles variations played by Dr. Barr ended with a prelude and fugue type thing at the end. Had I not mistaken Dr. Barr for one of his brilliant students, I would have inquired about the 'variations', as one musician to another. And the pianist, Lynda Garcia was precise and, like so many musicians, operates in a well-deserved world of her own.
The Christmas selections from Handel's Messiah reminded me of the years that my wonderful parents took us to hear the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, under the direction of the late, great Robert Shaw. The young participants from Tuskegee University were on point, confident and had expressed presence. You can't buy that.
Years ago my grandmother started attending the Spelman-Morehouse concerts dating back to Dr. Wendell Whalum. My aunt took me to Spelman events throughout childhood. Later my uncle, who took my children and myself on a tour of Tuskegee University when the children were little and who sang in the Morehouse College Glee Club, met the woman who would become his wife, a member of Spelman College's Glee Club. Their youngest daughter continued the tradition as a member of Spelman's Glee Club, and my children were able to partake of her performances as well.
Make a connection this holiday season with someone. For what are we without our traditions? Peace!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Are We There Yet?
A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking my 3-year-old granddaughter, Dolly, to Savannah to see my daughter. From where we live it's a 4 hour drive, so I was anticipating excitement and drama. Thankfully, the drama was so little it isn't worth mentioning. Here's the point: I picked Dolly up early and, as we were approaching the expressway, I was overcome with this unexplainable feeling all over my body. I was as breathless as a woman in love. I felt like crying for no reason. I was cold and hot simultaneously. Wow!
When we got outside of Atlanta and I had time to collect myself, I came to the realization that what I was experiencing was.........euphoria. I was happy. I was happy and didn't even RECOGNIZE IT!
People, are we there yet? Talkative children will often ask that when traveling long distances, but I'm talking to us now. Are we missing out on the little things that make us happy, because we fail to see them? Or are our periods of sheer happiness so few and far between that we've forgotten what it feels like?
Let me redirect your attention to a quote I used a few months ago:
'Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.'
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Think on these things. Me too. Peace!
When we got outside of Atlanta and I had time to collect myself, I came to the realization that what I was experiencing was.........euphoria. I was happy. I was happy and didn't even RECOGNIZE IT!
People, are we there yet? Talkative children will often ask that when traveling long distances, but I'm talking to us now. Are we missing out on the little things that make us happy, because we fail to see them? Or are our periods of sheer happiness so few and far between that we've forgotten what it feels like?
Let me redirect your attention to a quote I used a few months ago:
'Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.'
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Think on these things. Me too. Peace!
Friday, October 17, 2008
You Might Be Middle Class If
I've said time and again to walk a mile in my shoes, and then you'll begin to appreciate the essence that is you. For that reason and for the sake of a little dark humour, I've comprised this list of things that could define the middle class in today's economy. Some may even hit close to home; my home:
You might be middle class if - - -
-You winterize your summer wardrobe, such that it is, by adding socks, stockings, hats and sweaters.
-When you accidentally run out of toilet paper, you rely on kleenex, napkins and even paper towels.
-Whatever you can do yourself you do, rather than paying someone. That could include manicures, pedicures and hair styling for us girls.
-You are robbing Peter to pay Paul,.....you know what I mean: skipping this bill to pay that one.....
-You have been crushed under a mountain of credit card debt, because you were helping others achieve the American dream that, for some reason, illudes you. Duh!
-You have learned to make minor home repairs so you don't have to pay a professional.
-You do NOT answer the phone, if it's on, without the benefit of caller i. d. in case it's a bill collector; again.
Hey, feel free to add to the list. I will too, for there's no shame in my game.
PEACE!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Top 3 Reasons Why Men Don't Get Any
I promise I won't be lewd. Again, I'm here to be fun and peaceful.
For centuries men have been preoccupied by the mere possibility of getting women into the bedroom. The ancient Greek play of Aristophanes, Lysistrata, was far ahead of its time on describing how women used sex to rule. Nineteenth century pianist Franz Liszt had women swooning after his performances. Rumour has it that he used his magnetism to score, or at least he could have. Women were understandably attracted to the power exuded by our modern day heroes, like Pres. John F. Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Men don't have to be famous to get some. So why aren't our modern day men getting any? I've narrowed it down to three things based on my experience as a wife for the second time.
1 - Plopping. My husband comes home from work and plops all over the house. He plops on the bed for hours. He plops in front of the t.v. forever. I guess the only place he doesn't plop is in the kitchen. Can a sistah get some help with the chores? I don't ask much, but what about that 10' tall garbage?
2 - Talking. Men talk themselves out of sex more often than not. My husband starts the evening with 'Am I going to get tonite?' 'Will I be getting?' (The noun is missing because English is his second language, but stupidity is universal). Don't ask. Let it flow.
3 - Stalking. Since I take care of my mother's household and mine, I end up washing and ironing every day. I work a job, visit her, and come home at night weighted down with bags and crap. Does my husband help me up the stairs and into the house? Once a month, to his credit, he'll bumb-rush me as I'm exiting my car. He sits down at the end of our street, out of sight, and races into the driveway like a knight. Clearly he wants some, but where are you on the other nights?
Don't get me wrong. There are some things about my husband that are quite endearing. He has a great sense of humour. Infrequently he will prepare food from his native land. He pays bills. But HE SLEEPS PAST NOON ON WEEKENDS when the rest of us are up working inside and outside of the property.
Listen men, sleeping all day is un-American to me. Until I remarried I never knew such people even existed! Get your asses up. Stop asking for sex. Don't plop until you've at least emptied the garbage. And don't stalk us just to get us. Be consistent with your loving care.
The plopping, stalking, talking (AND SLEEPING ALL FREAKIN' DAY) must stop!
For centuries men have been preoccupied by the mere possibility of getting women into the bedroom. The ancient Greek play of Aristophanes, Lysistrata, was far ahead of its time on describing how women used sex to rule. Nineteenth century pianist Franz Liszt had women swooning after his performances. Rumour has it that he used his magnetism to score, or at least he could have. Women were understandably attracted to the power exuded by our modern day heroes, like Pres. John F. Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Men don't have to be famous to get some. So why aren't our modern day men getting any? I've narrowed it down to three things based on my experience as a wife for the second time.
1 - Plopping. My husband comes home from work and plops all over the house. He plops on the bed for hours. He plops in front of the t.v. forever. I guess the only place he doesn't plop is in the kitchen. Can a sistah get some help with the chores? I don't ask much, but what about that 10' tall garbage?
2 - Talking. Men talk themselves out of sex more often than not. My husband starts the evening with 'Am I going to get tonite?' 'Will I be getting?' (The noun is missing because English is his second language, but stupidity is universal). Don't ask. Let it flow.
3 - Stalking. Since I take care of my mother's household and mine, I end up washing and ironing every day. I work a job, visit her, and come home at night weighted down with bags and crap. Does my husband help me up the stairs and into the house? Once a month, to his credit, he'll bumb-rush me as I'm exiting my car. He sits down at the end of our street, out of sight, and races into the driveway like a knight. Clearly he wants some, but where are you on the other nights?
Don't get me wrong. There are some things about my husband that are quite endearing. He has a great sense of humour. Infrequently he will prepare food from his native land. He pays bills. But HE SLEEPS PAST NOON ON WEEKENDS when the rest of us are up working inside and outside of the property.
Listen men, sleeping all day is un-American to me. Until I remarried I never knew such people even existed! Get your asses up. Stop asking for sex. Don't plop until you've at least emptied the garbage. And don't stalk us just to get us. Be consistent with your loving care.
The plopping, stalking, talking (AND SLEEPING ALL FREAKIN' DAY) must stop!
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Pinhead Et Le Myth de Sisyph
Don't worry. It won't be a French lesson, but it WILL be funny. I promise.
Let's see. Where can I start? Oh, I know! I am now living the absurd life that I swore I never would:
-Creditors are hunting me down. (That's what they think anyway).
-I'm dissatisfied with the 40 hours I spend doing you-know-what, not to mention an almost one hour commute one-way.
-I sometimes allow my unhappiness to roll into the lives of those I love most.
-I've spent countless hours and countless dollars on internet systems that have netted me $60 at the most.
-As a matter of fact, I've modified my goal into becoming a quarter of a millionaire!
Yet in spite of it all, I know I can and will be happy on my own terms. I never wanted to live life like that guy in the Myth of Sysiphus. He was that Greek guy condemned to roll a boulder up a mountain, only to have it roll back to the bottom. Then he'd have to start the whole absurd process over again.
While Albert Camus' take was that Sisyphus must be happy, because he freely understood that absurdity was his doom; I DISAGREE! In spite of it all I can still find happiness in the concept of Pinhead, derived from the Latin or Greek: Pinheadeus Maximus.
Pinhead was first used by my father on his grandson, my son. For his own son, my brother, he reserved the name Hoghead. When we lost our father, I began referring to both my brother and son as Pinheads. Got it? And when they do something ultra-stoopid and yeah, I can spell. I said STOOPID. Women know what I'm talking about. Then the ascribed nickname is modified to Pinheadeus Maximus.
I have learned to enlarge my vision of happiness at the expense of family members, especially of my younger brother. Why? Because it tickles me, and I need to be tickled. Here are the rest of his names:
-Oompmanougatcentre - It's a lengthy reference to his head. I promised when we were children that, if I ever married and had any, they would call him.
-Uncle Oomp - Yep, my children were probably in middle school when they found out Oomp wasn't his real name!
-RevRoomp - We spent the 4th of July at our mom's rehab facility. Guess who had to say grace for that huge gathering? And you have to roll that second 'r'.
-The Oompster - Yeah. A derivative of the name even followed him into the USAF.
-Sir Lancelot - And since he learned so much doctor stuff in the military, guess who LANCED his own ass boils last year? With a mirror, of course.
BluntForceTrauma - Whenever my children or my niece and nephew would get into trouble, Uncle Oomp would lecture them with force. The children, now grown, tell me the would have preferred whippings. Yes, he speaks his mind bluntly, no if ands or buts; a gift he inherited from his father.
-Nip Tuck/E. D. - I had the pleasure of waiting on my brother after minor surgery. Since I don't know what he had, I had to formulate new names for the ocassion. Erectile dysfunction, yeah!
So when you're feeling blue, feel free to look at my life. If it weren't for the Pinheads, life would truly suck!
-
Let's see. Where can I start? Oh, I know! I am now living the absurd life that I swore I never would:
-Creditors are hunting me down. (That's what they think anyway).
-I'm dissatisfied with the 40 hours I spend doing you-know-what, not to mention an almost one hour commute one-way.
-I sometimes allow my unhappiness to roll into the lives of those I love most.
-I've spent countless hours and countless dollars on internet systems that have netted me $60 at the most.
-As a matter of fact, I've modified my goal into becoming a quarter of a millionaire!
Yet in spite of it all, I know I can and will be happy on my own terms. I never wanted to live life like that guy in the Myth of Sysiphus. He was that Greek guy condemned to roll a boulder up a mountain, only to have it roll back to the bottom. Then he'd have to start the whole absurd process over again.
While Albert Camus' take was that Sisyphus must be happy, because he freely understood that absurdity was his doom; I DISAGREE! In spite of it all I can still find happiness in the concept of Pinhead, derived from the Latin or Greek: Pinheadeus Maximus.
Pinhead was first used by my father on his grandson, my son. For his own son, my brother, he reserved the name Hoghead. When we lost our father, I began referring to both my brother and son as Pinheads. Got it? And when they do something ultra-stoopid and yeah, I can spell. I said STOOPID. Women know what I'm talking about. Then the ascribed nickname is modified to Pinheadeus Maximus.
I have learned to enlarge my vision of happiness at the expense of family members, especially of my younger brother. Why? Because it tickles me, and I need to be tickled. Here are the rest of his names:
-Oompmanougatcentre - It's a lengthy reference to his head. I promised when we were children that, if I ever married and had any, they would call him.
-Uncle Oomp - Yep, my children were probably in middle school when they found out Oomp wasn't his real name!
-RevRoomp - We spent the 4th of July at our mom's rehab facility. Guess who had to say grace for that huge gathering? And you have to roll that second 'r'.
-The Oompster - Yeah. A derivative of the name even followed him into the USAF.
-Sir Lancelot - And since he learned so much doctor stuff in the military, guess who LANCED his own ass boils last year? With a mirror, of course.
BluntForceTrauma - Whenever my children or my niece and nephew would get into trouble, Uncle Oomp would lecture them with force. The children, now grown, tell me the would have preferred whippings. Yes, he speaks his mind bluntly, no if ands or buts; a gift he inherited from his father.
-Nip Tuck/E. D. - I had the pleasure of waiting on my brother after minor surgery. Since I don't know what he had, I had to formulate new names for the ocassion. Erectile dysfunction, yeah!
So when you're feeling blue, feel free to look at my life. If it weren't for the Pinheads, life would truly suck!
-
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Sunshine and Rain
There's a popular Frankie Beverly and Maze hit with the hypnotic refrain 'Joy and pain, sun-shine and rain,' a pretty apt description of life itself. I mention this not to be jejune or even deep, but for the purpose of illustrating a point to CHEER YOU UP. I promise.
Two weeks before the second anniversary of my father's death, I was seized by an uncontrollable, overwhelming bout of grief that I had not experienced since the day of, and the days leading up to, the funeral. I was so distraught that I considered calling in sick. Not slick leave, sick leave.
Here is what the Lord laid on my heart that day: 'I will help you pull yourself together because, when you get to work, someone will be especially glad to see you.' I was mystified but, of course, I was able to gather my wits and dress for work.
Every work day, after an hour or so, I roll over into the next aisle just to sneek a peek and say hello. When I got to this person's desk, she stood up smiling and gave me a hug! ' - - -, I'm so glad to see you!' As I've said before, even if you dislike the job, there ought to be SOMEBODY there that you can talk to. If there isn't, please - - - find somebody quickly.
This lady, whom I've not even know for that long, reached out and touched me in a special way without even knowing it. I like to think it was God's plan to help me past the gut-wrenching grief I couldn't seem to control. If I had called in sick, God would have had to formulate a new plan to counter the one I messed up!
I've always called this lady my Sis-tah and more importantly, my Sunshine. As a matter of fact she reminds me of one of my best friends from high school, Merideth. Thank you, my Sunshine. And to the rest of you, God has put a links at the job to help you through, if you're open to finding them.
Two weeks before the second anniversary of my father's death, I was seized by an uncontrollable, overwhelming bout of grief that I had not experienced since the day of, and the days leading up to, the funeral. I was so distraught that I considered calling in sick. Not slick leave, sick leave.
Here is what the Lord laid on my heart that day: 'I will help you pull yourself together because, when you get to work, someone will be especially glad to see you.' I was mystified but, of course, I was able to gather my wits and dress for work.
Every work day, after an hour or so, I roll over into the next aisle just to sneek a peek and say hello. When I got to this person's desk, she stood up smiling and gave me a hug! ' - - -, I'm so glad to see you!' As I've said before, even if you dislike the job, there ought to be SOMEBODY there that you can talk to. If there isn't, please - - - find somebody quickly.
This lady, whom I've not even know for that long, reached out and touched me in a special way without even knowing it. I like to think it was God's plan to help me past the gut-wrenching grief I couldn't seem to control. If I had called in sick, God would have had to formulate a new plan to counter the one I messed up!
I've always called this lady my Sis-tah and more importantly, my Sunshine. As a matter of fact she reminds me of one of my best friends from high school, Merideth. Thank you, my Sunshine. And to the rest of you, God has put a links at the job to help you through, if you're open to finding them.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I'll Still Dread the Job AFTER the 4th of July
'Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.'
Nathaniel Hawthorne
As we near the end of the 4th of July holiday weekend, you may begin thinking about the job, and dreading that inevitable return on Monday. I'm here to help you take the edge off.
One of many things I've utilized to temper that hate-hate relationship I have with the job is to spread my own brand of what my children call 'lame' sunshine in my own way. I have nicknamed all of my group members except for the one who came with her own already in place. Here goes:
Fearless leader, Out of Office/Auto Reply - These 2 names I assigned to the manager whom I like, for a change. Whenever I send her an e mail and she is present, I get this 'out of office/auto reply' response.
My Girl - My Girl is assistant to the manager and often has to serve in the uncomfortable position of being a buffer between the manager and employees. She probably doesn't know it, but she's also my therapist and vice-president of the all-you-can-eat Brownie Club. I am the club's president.
One Sheet - Our office job results in the use of lots and lots of paper, except for this guy, one of my oldest and dearest friends. He is like a brother to me, always a gentleman, a church man, a family man; and always spreading good cheer. It's amazing that he confines all of a day's work to One Sheet, no more than 2, at the end of any given day.
Fassie aka Ms. Thang-a-lang - This is the black history expert of the group. And when I say she's fast, I mean she has a seductive quality about her that the men find hard to resist. I like giving her the evil eye when I see her socializing in the workplace. What the heck? She can't help it. The men are captivated.
The Question Man - This guy is so bright and seems to quickly grasp difficult concepts in a comprehensive and highly technical job; and he's relatively new. He earned his name by asking questions that he has already thoroughly researched. It can be annoying and endearing. Get well soon!
Lil Kim - Like Fassie, Lil Kim balances being a college student with gainful employment. She is intelligent and oh so quiet. In other words she's absolutely nothing like the rapper!
Daughter-in-law - I picked her especially for my son. She is a no nonsense girl who doesn't take any junk from anyone. She'd be just perfect for my time-to-get-out-of-my-house son.
Aretha aka En Vouge - This girl commands respect with quiet dignity and class. She slices the rudest customers down to size and leaves them whimpering like puppies. Unfortunately most of the callers are too unintelligent to even know they've been 'dissed'.
My Child - This one earned the name because she reminds me so much of my own child. She absolutely detests that I would even say this, and that makes her more dear. She is brilliant, well-educated and knowledgeable on many subjects without being a snob. I like these qualities, because I, too, possess the same qualities; BUT I can be a real -ss about it.
My Cherie Amour - She is another of the smart young girls. She smiles and hugs me every day. I admire her greatly for successfully battling some major health challenges.
The Sisterhood:
My Sunshine - She is so dear to me and always so cheerful! Along with the other two sisters (below), she helps us to keep the young girls in line. I plan to devote a full blog just to her, because she is special to me personally.
Ms. T/Smileawhile - T came on board with her nickname already in place. She, too, spreads her own brand of cheer with her smile AND with her culinary skills.
Miss Cleo (Call me now for a psychic reading) - Don't let the nickname fool you. It has nothing to do with psychic anything. KB will have to reveal this one herself!
So you may hate the job, but find somebody to love there. It is possible. It is
'doable'. And until God moves you out, it can make that job bearable!
Peace!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Shine!
When I was growing up in the church and even now, there's an upbeat song that we do called 'This Little Light of Mine. I'm Gonna Let it Shine.' I was always encouraged by my parents and by the church to shine in my work AND play. It surely helps keep the attitude from deteriorating into a badttitude. Feel me?
www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap
When my brother and I were growing up in the 1970's, our father's favorite Earth, Wind and Fire song was 'Shining Star'. Remember that repetitive refrain at the end? 'Shining star for you to see what your life can truly be!' Yeah!
Here's Barack Obama's take on shining:
'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We a re all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make mani fest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'
http://pageswirl.com/rotate.php?user=kanaiya
Wow! I couldn't have said it better myself, except to add Shine on People, Shine!
www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap
When my brother and I were growing up in the 1970's, our father's favorite Earth, Wind and Fire song was 'Shining Star'. Remember that repetitive refrain at the end? 'Shining star for you to see what your life can truly be!' Yeah!
Here's Barack Obama's take on shining:
'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We a re all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make mani fest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'
http://pageswirl.com/rotate.php?user=kanaiya
Wow! I couldn't have said it better myself, except to add Shine on People, Shine!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Life is a Bowl of Cherries and No Pits
No matter how bad things seemed, this was always my father's cheerful response. He was a great man who suffered from severe illnesses and NEVER complained.
Over the past 2 weeks here's what has happened to me:
My number one uncle died after a lengthy illness. His funeral was befitting a dignitary, as he touched MANY lives as an educator, counselor and principal.
My always self-centered mother made this particular gathering all about her, even from a wheelchair.
The gas light in my car came on.
I was pounded with past-due bills and other similarly threatening letters.
What's a pro-peace blogger to do?
Well, I start off listening to classical music. I especially like Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakov, you know, the Russians. And then I thank God for the best darned brother in the world. He can tell a funny joke a day with no repeats. My delivery sucks, but here goes:
A Georgia boy gained entrance into the hallowed halls of Harvard. (Notice that alliteration?) And since Georgia is my home, this story is not outside the realm of possibility). He walked up on two Ivy league, sweatered types and asked:
'Howdy. Do either of you know where the cafeteria is at?' To which one Ivy leaguer quipped, 'It would be behind the preposition.'
The country boy's response?: 'Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the cafeteria is, asshole.?'
Praying and living in Peace!
Over the past 2 weeks here's what has happened to me:
My number one uncle died after a lengthy illness. His funeral was befitting a dignitary, as he touched MANY lives as an educator, counselor and principal.
My always self-centered mother made this particular gathering all about her, even from a wheelchair.
The gas light in my car came on.
I was pounded with past-due bills and other similarly threatening letters.
What's a pro-peace blogger to do?
Well, I start off listening to classical music. I especially like Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakov, you know, the Russians. And then I thank God for the best darned brother in the world. He can tell a funny joke a day with no repeats. My delivery sucks, but here goes:
A Georgia boy gained entrance into the hallowed halls of Harvard. (Notice that alliteration?) And since Georgia is my home, this story is not outside the realm of possibility). He walked up on two Ivy league, sweatered types and asked:
'Howdy. Do either of you know where the cafeteria is at?' To which one Ivy leaguer quipped, 'It would be behind the preposition.'
The country boy's response?: 'Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the cafeteria is, asshole.?'
Praying and living in Peace!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Think Happy Thoughts!
Hi there! Are you feeling what I'm feeling? I don't know. Lately I've felt a little lame and out of sorts. There's a negativity that is permeating the universe, and I'm feeling it in traffic, at home, at work and sometimes even at church.
I just want you to know that there are ways to combat this negativity. My late father used to advise: think happy thoughts. WHAT? How does one do this? I'll tell you how --- with daily practice and INTENSE concentration.
Know what I do? I sing. I laugh. I pray. I imagine that I'm somewhere I really want to be. Instead of thinking about those career failures, I think about how much those failures have enhanced me, preparing me for exactly where I'm going to be in a positive way. Hey, the possibilities are endless. Start practicing right now. You can do it.
Praying for Peace!
I just want you to know that there are ways to combat this negativity. My late father used to advise: think happy thoughts. WHAT? How does one do this? I'll tell you how --- with daily practice and INTENSE concentration.
Know what I do? I sing. I laugh. I pray. I imagine that I'm somewhere I really want to be. Instead of thinking about those career failures, I think about how much those failures have enhanced me, preparing me for exactly where I'm going to be in a positive way. Hey, the possibilities are endless. Start practicing right now. You can do it.
Praying for Peace!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
One Father's Commitment
As we prepare to honour our fathers, brothers, uncles, grandfathers, etc.; I came across 2 fascinating true stories about dads. Hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
TWO STORIES BOTH TRUE - and worth reading!!!!
STORY NUMBER ONE Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago . Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.Capone had a lawyer nicknamed 'Easy Eddie.' He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and ga ve little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him. Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object.And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong.. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al 'Scarface' Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great..So, he testified.Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay. Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.The poem read:' The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop at late or early hour... Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with a will. Place no faith in time. For the clock may soon be still.'
STORY NUMBER TWO World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood cold: a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet.The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger. There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert themfrom the fleet.Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 calibers blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly.Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft. This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29. His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?Butch O'Hare was 'Easy Eddie's' son.
www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap
TWO STORIES BOTH TRUE - and worth reading!!!!
STORY NUMBER ONE Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago . Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.Capone had a lawyer nicknamed 'Easy Eddie.' He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and ga ve little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him. Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object.And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong.. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al 'Scarface' Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great..So, he testified.Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay. Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.The poem read:' The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop at late or early hour... Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with a will. Place no faith in time. For the clock may soon be still.'
STORY NUMBER TWO World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood cold: a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet.The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger. There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert themfrom the fleet.Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 calibers blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly.Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft. This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29. His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?Butch O'Hare was 'Easy Eddie's' son.
www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Three Nights of Frances
Perhaps some of you can relate to the relative from hell. You know, the one who rarely calls to check on you; but when they do call, it's to give you an assignment to benefit them? Well I walked into this one completely by accident. Isn't that the way it always is?
I ran into this girl at the bedside of a very seriously ill uncle we have in common. She does not drive and, since she was en route to visit my mother who is wheelchair bound, I gladly offered her a ride; even though I was on my way to work.
Cuz doesn't have to work because she is mentally disabled, but far from stupid!
When I deposited my charge, I promised that I would help her to procure groceries on Monday. I dutifully mapquested the directions and, after my nightshift ended, made my way into a very depressed looking neighborhood.
Up and down the street I went, into this complex and that. I even entered a set of condos 'from the $120's'. In the less prosperous areas, people were actually sitting outside, but no one knew of the apartments I sought when inquiries were made.
Fearful of getting out of my car to use a pay phone --- I have no cell phone ---, I made it home and called her. 'Oh Lord,' she hollered. 'I'm hungry! I don't have any food!' It didn't occur to me that she hadn't asked about my safety as she sat safely tucked away in her apartment until later. I promised to come by the next night AFER taking care of my mother, AFTER work.
This time I went to the correct end of the same (divided) street, stumbling about in the darkness with a big purse and in my flip flops; at a time when gas prices are elevated and the temptation to rob almost predictable. I bravely asked 2 brothers for building X but again, nobody knew anything. I began to think I was the police.
Well, another long trip home, a screaming and hollering retort; but this time my children bore witness. 'Mom, you are being made a fool of being so nice,' they warned. Did I listen?
I took my cousin an envelope full of money by en route to work the next day, cautioning her that she would have to get to the store on her own. Granted, she has brothers who are doing what I'm doing, I'm sure; I was just trying to help a sistah out. After all, when she was born, I was in high school!
Hint to the wise: When your well intended good deeds begin to interrupt your peace of mind, drop those deeds immediately.
I HAVE!
I ran into this girl at the bedside of a very seriously ill uncle we have in common. She does not drive and, since she was en route to visit my mother who is wheelchair bound, I gladly offered her a ride; even though I was on my way to work.
Cuz doesn't have to work because she is mentally disabled, but far from stupid!
When I deposited my charge, I promised that I would help her to procure groceries on Monday. I dutifully mapquested the directions and, after my nightshift ended, made my way into a very depressed looking neighborhood.
Up and down the street I went, into this complex and that. I even entered a set of condos 'from the $120's'. In the less prosperous areas, people were actually sitting outside, but no one knew of the apartments I sought when inquiries were made.
Fearful of getting out of my car to use a pay phone --- I have no cell phone ---, I made it home and called her. 'Oh Lord,' she hollered. 'I'm hungry! I don't have any food!' It didn't occur to me that she hadn't asked about my safety as she sat safely tucked away in her apartment until later. I promised to come by the next night AFER taking care of my mother, AFTER work.
This time I went to the correct end of the same (divided) street, stumbling about in the darkness with a big purse and in my flip flops; at a time when gas prices are elevated and the temptation to rob almost predictable. I bravely asked 2 brothers for building X but again, nobody knew anything. I began to think I was the police.
Well, another long trip home, a screaming and hollering retort; but this time my children bore witness. 'Mom, you are being made a fool of being so nice,' they warned. Did I listen?
I took my cousin an envelope full of money by en route to work the next day, cautioning her that she would have to get to the store on her own. Granted, she has brothers who are doing what I'm doing, I'm sure; I was just trying to help a sistah out. After all, when she was born, I was in high school!
Hint to the wise: When your well intended good deeds begin to interrupt your peace of mind, drop those deeds immediately.
I HAVE!
Friday, May 16, 2008
You're Not Late Until You Get There..............
My father was known for saying funny things. Often he would quip, 'You're not late until you get there. Until then, you are absent!' My brother and I never knew whether this comment had been derived from dealing with the Mailhandlers' Union over which our father presided, or if he was just being funny.
After all, we were required to work from early ages and to take that work seriously. It was in our best interest to take work seriously for our father was very strict about it. For this reason, we both became faithful and dutiful Federal employees of 20+ years now.
Our father was also strict and dutiful about saving leave, i. e. time saved for off time. My brother became dutiful in this regard. Me? I could take it or annual-leave it. See, in the Federal government you have different types of leave: sick leave, annual leave, Family Medical leave, leave without pay, absent without leave, etc.
So for my own peace of mind, I had to invent my own: slick leave.
Do you ever get up, start getting ready to go to work and realize, 'Hey, I have absolutely nothing to contribute to a job today,'? Do you feel otherwise healthy, until you start getting ready to leave for work? ARE YOU JUST PLAIN SICK OF IT? Then do us all a favor, take some slick leave.
Slick leave falls somewhere between being sick of it but not physically incapacitated, and being mentally incapable of putting that best foot forward. Why ruin the day of your colleagues with your negativity? Do yourself a favor and opt for slick leave. Even your unsuspecting boss will thank you for the break when you return the next day looking refreshed and happy.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
What Could Be More Important?
In a world where we are constantly bombarded by noise, radios, television (the stupid box), traffic and useless people; we can be hard pressed to find a little quiet time, solitude even. I don't know about you, but I cherish my alone time. After all, I deserve it.
Here are some of the activities that keep me out of the heart attack zone: reading, praying (usually praying that I don't cuss somebody out who really, REALLY deserves it), spending time with sick and elderly family members, cleaning, eating whatever I want, listening to music and teaching piano to my granddaughter.
I always make time for myself at the computer (obviously), making improvements to my very helpful and informative sites: http://www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap and http://www.allemap.blogspot.com/.
Even when I'm in the midst of ripping and running the streets, going to work, visiting sick people, or taking care of my family; I always fast forward my mind to what I'll be doing for ME at some point. Believe you me, it keeps me going!
Here are some of the activities that keep me out of the heart attack zone: reading, praying (usually praying that I don't cuss somebody out who really, REALLY deserves it), spending time with sick and elderly family members, cleaning, eating whatever I want, listening to music and teaching piano to my granddaughter.
I always make time for myself at the computer (obviously), making improvements to my very helpful and informative sites: http://www.forex4free.org/?ref=Allemap and http://www.allemap.blogspot.com/.
Even when I'm in the midst of ripping and running the streets, going to work, visiting sick people, or taking care of my family; I always fast forward my mind to what I'll be doing for ME at some point. Believe you me, it keeps me going!
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