Under the Mistletoe

I was driving to work this morning and for some reason this particular memory popped into mind.  Oh, how I miss being this starry-eyed!

It was the day before Christmas break of my sophomore year in high school. A group of us girls had gathered at my locker and we were chatting away. Then I let them in on a little secret: "I have a piece of mistletoe in my locker." "What?" they all squealed. "Who is it for?" I told them, and they couldn't believe it. It was for one of my older brother's friends: one of the most popular seniors in the school. "You're so brave! I couldn't do that," one said. I was thinking of course you couldn't, you have a boyfriend that you can kiss whenever you want. I didn't have that luxury, so I had to make my own opportunity.

I thought about how I was going to execute the plan for most of the day. Then I discussed it with my best friend Emily. "When  you do it are you going to go right for his mouth?" "Um...I have no idea. I just have to see how it plays out. But first I have to get him to my locker." "Well if you know where he's going to be after school, you can take the mistletoe to him. So maybe you should put it in your purse." I thought that was a great idea! "I'll do that!" But I was very nervous. I hadn't kissed a guy before, so I hoped reading all of those Rosamond du Jardin books would make some knowledge come out at the right time.

Finally, the bell rang dismissing last class and I made a beeline for my locker to get the mistletoe out so I could go find Derek. As I was rummaging around in my locker, Emily's boyfriend came up. I had been in "teen love" with this guy since I had first seen him when he transferred to our school the prior year. But of course he had fallen for Emily. This had caused a real rift in our friendship for about 5 minutes, but as always I got over it and harbored no ill will. "Hi Rita," he said. "Hi. What's up?" "Emily said you had mistletoe." "I do, but I'm sure you don't need it." He smiled. "Can I see it?" I shrugged. "Sure." I handed it to him.

He took that piece of mistletoe, held it over my head, and planted one on me. And I mean laid one on me! Can we just say it was my first French kiss??  Does anyone besides me still call it a French kiss? Anyhoo, by the time we were done I was dumbstruck and shell-shocked. He smiled at me and handed the mistletoe back. "Merry Christmas!" he said as he sauntered away.

What in the world had just happened?  My mouth was probably still hanging open when Emily rounded the other corner and came up to me. "Did you see Tom?" "How did he know I had mistletoe?" "I told him." "Well did you tell him to use it?" "Did he?" "YES!" Emily giggled. "Then good for you! Now that you're all warmed up, go find Derek and call me later!"

I had forgotten about Derek! I hastily stuffed the rest of my books in my locker, put on my jacket and closed my locker. When I turned around, I saw Derek heading down the hall in my direction. I froze as he stopped in front of me. "Hi Rita." "Um...hi Derek." "I hear you have something for me." "I do?" He pointed to my hand, where the mistletoe was. Nonplussed, I raised it over his head and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "That was beautiful," he said, then kissed me on my cheek. "Merry Christmas Rita."

As I watched him walk away, I wondered how he had known about the mistletoe. Then I thought: who cared???

It wasn't until I was talking to Emily that evening, that I found out that the mistletoe info came from my friends, who had told people about how brave I was going to be. I didn't know whether to be thankful, or mortified. But since we were now on Christmas break, it didn't matter as no one would remember once school resumed. But as you can see: I remembered! And I always will. 

Merry Christmas! 🎄🎅🤶

A Christmas Story

 Once upon a time there was a woman named Rita. She just loved Christmas, and especially decorating and looking at her tree. She had so many beautiful ornaments, and each one had special meaning. But her favorite one was Tiny Santa.

She couldn't even remember where she had gotten Tiny Santa, but she loved him because he was so tiny and cute. He couldn't have been more than an inch and a half tall, if that! However, he always got a place of prominence on the tree. Yep: she loved Tiny Santa.

But what she didn't know was that someone else loved Tiny Santa too. And that someone  was...Pumpkin Louise! The little Chihuahua had seen Grammy Rita put Tiny Santa on the tree. Tiny Santa was just the right size of a toy for Pumpkin Louise. So she couldn't understand why it wasn't given to her to play with. Maybe it was an oversight.

However, Grammy Rita never gave Tiny Santa to Pumpkin to play with. And this made her very sad. Wasn't Christmas the season for giving? And didn't Pumpkin always get what she wanted because she was spoiled? Er...loved? So she would sit under the tree like a present, or in front of it, looking up at Tiny Santa. But to her horror, Grammy Rita said, "I know what you want Pumpkin but Tiny Santa is Grammy's. Go play with one of your toys." She didn't want one of her toys. She wanted Tiny Santa!

One day when Mama Kitty was rearranging ornaments, Tiny Santa fell to the floor. Now was Pumpkin's chance! She dashed over and grabbed Tiny Santa, then frolicked away. Unluckily, Mama saw her. "Pumpkin no! That is Grammy's Tiny Santa. You can't have it!" and she got it away from her, replacing it with squeaky raccoon. Who in the world wanted squeaky raccoon, now that she'd had a taste of Tiny Santa? Pumpkin vowed to bide her time...

The following year when the tree was put up, Pumpkin watched very carefully to see where Tiny Santa was placed. "I see you Pumpkin Louise. No touching Tiny Santa," Grammy Rita said. 

But as we all know: Christmas is the time of miracles. Victoria the cat was under the tree, batting at the low-hanging ornaments. This made the branches shake, and lo and behold: Tiny Santa fell to the floor. Pumpkin grabbed it from the floor and ran to her bed to play with it. However, no matter how much she chewed on Tiny Santa, there was no sound. It wasn't a squeaky toy after all. Losing interest in the silent ornament, Pumpkin went on her merry way to annoy Victoria.

When Mama Kitty came home, she saw the remnants of Tiny Santa and her eyes widened in horror. "Pumpkin what did you do??? Grammy is going to kill you!" A few minutes later she came home. "Hi Kitty. What are you doing?" "Nothing," and she scooted over by the dog bed. Grammy Rita put her work bag down and went to the tree. 

Uh oh: something was missing. "Where's Tiny Santa?"

"Oh mom, I'm so sorry," Kitty said. She opened her hand and there was the last bit of Tiny Santa. 

Grammy Rita gasped. "What happened? How did Pumpkin get my Tiny Santa? Why is it always my things that get ruined? The one little thing that brought me joy is gone!" She sorrowfully went up to her room with the little bit of fluff that was left of her favorite ornament.

Kitty couldn't let her mom have a sad Christmas. She vowed to find her another Tiny Santa. And by the weekend she did! She was so happy, she rushed home to show her. "Look mom, it's Tiny Santa!" "Thanks Kitty, but it's not really. It's bigger." "But not too much bigger; only 1/2 an inch bigger. And look: it fits right on the same branch and has the same happy look on his face."

Grammy Rita knew she was being childish. Kitty had gone to all the trouble to find a replacement, and look how she was acting. That wasn't the Christmas spirit at all! So she gave Kitty a big hug. "It may not be Tiny Santa, but we can call him Little Santa." She put him on the tree, and he fit perfectly on the branch. "He looks good. Thanks so much Kitty:  you're a good daughter." "Of course I am mom!"

To this day, Little Santa is placed on the tree every year.  And this makes Grammy Rita very happy. The End.

Behind the Manuscript - Dancing in a Minefield

We have been doing a lot of cleaning because the holiday season is upon us! While going through some stuff, Kitty came across a pink binder with a hard copy of my high school book "Dancing In A Minefield". Since she found it: I decided to read it again since it has been a few years. And it really took me back...

I wrote this book as an homage to my high school years. Or what I had wished was part of my junior year! It was a fun labor of love because I based the characters on some of my real friends from high school. They know who they are! Of course I changed the names to protect the innocent, and guilty 😏 And yes: I am one of the female leads in the novel.

Anyhoo, in a nutshell, the premise of the book is two "nice" girls have crushes on the school's most popular "bad boy" seniors. When the guys discover this, they make a bet about who can get the farthest with their designated girl. The plot may sound familiar but trust me: the plot takes a few interesting turns. There's also a backstory about one of the guys that will explain why he is the way he is.

I've had many people ask me about the title, and what that could possibly have to do with the storyline. Here's a story about that:

When I lived in Long Island with the was-band, we lived for a while with his brother and sister-in-law. I never felt that comfortable around them, because we were so different. So I spent most of my time in our room. It was summer and I had the window open. It was a big apartment complex, and across the way lived a big group of Latinx folks. They spent a lot of time outside playing music, playing cards and socializing. Having the kind of fun I wished I could have. One day I heard this song, and it just took me someplace else that made me happy (and wasn't that room).  From the lyrics, I figured out that the song was called Dancing In A Minefield.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and I tried every way I could to find that song to download, but I couldn't find it. So to commemorate the song, I used it as the book title and figured a way to reference it in the book. Now here's the funny thing: that wasn't the title of the song! It is actually just Minefield, by a group called I Level. Yes, I did finally find it and download it. But I kept the book title as it was. That song had been playing in my head for so many years, and I had remembered the tune and everything. When the book is made into a movie (and I know it will be!) I'm using that song in the opening montage.

Writing that book helped me keep my sanity more than once. When I couldn't sleep, I'd lay in bed and run plot lines in my head. When I was lonely, I would work on it and think about the friends that were represented in it.  When Marie would ask, "Why don't you write something worthwhile?" I would ignore her and put more love into my book, especially the mothers in it!

So there you have it: the backstory of Dancing In A Minefield which was my first full-length novel. It's still available on Nook and Kindle, or you can download it onto any e-reader (PC, tablet, etc.).  If you want to relive a little high school and visit with my "friends": give it a read! Now that winter is trying to show up by dusting us with snow, you can spend time curled up with a good book, some hot chocolate, and enjoy! Thank you 😊

  

Well That's Strange...

 I have a lot of really nice dusters / cardigans that I bought last year. Now the sad part is: I can't find any of them now that I need them for this season! Luckily, JC Penney had some at a great price, so I ordered 2 for me and 1 for Brie. I also got a lovely black pullover, but I digress...

Anyhoo, I received the email that my items were at the store, and I could pick them up. After a few days, I decided that maybe I should pick them up before they were sent back. So this past Saturday, in the cold and rain, Brie and I finally made it to the store and arranged for curbside pickup.  Presently the employee came to the car with our bag, and we left.

Sunday was cold but I decided to wear a different cardigan to church. Afterwards, Brie opened the bag to get her black cardigan out, but I left mine in the bag. Monday, I finally took my black one out to wear, and set the navy blue one aside along with my pullover. I noticed there seemed to be something else in the bag. I shook out the small plastic bag, and there was something purple in it. Huh. I put it back in the bag and set it by the couch.

After work, I shook out the bag again and the plastic bag came out. I looked at it, and there seemed to be writing on it. I thought maybe it was a free gift, like a t-shirt or a hair wrap or something because I hadn't ordered anything purple. Later that night, I decided that instead of wondering what it was, maybe I should just take it out of the bag. So I did...

It wasn't a hair wrap. It wasn't a t-shirt. It wasn't a towel. It was a light purple size 12-months onesie! The white writing on it said "Crib hair, don't care". My eyes widened as Brie gasped. "What the eff is that?" she said. "Did you order that to tease me because I have no children?"

"Of course not! I have no idea where this came from."  I couldn't stop looking at it. Of all the things that could have been sent to me by mistake, this wasn't even on the top 100 list. I checked my receipt: no sign of a onesie on there. I looked at my online order details: no mention of a onesie there either.  It was a most curious thing! There didn't seem to be any snaps on it, so how were you supposed to change a baby or even get it into the onesie as it had long sleeves and legs? I went to the JC Penney website, searched "purple onesie", and a few came up. However, the writing was green, it didn't have legs and had button snaps on the diaper area. 'Tis a mystery.

I put the onesie back in the plastic bag, then put it back in the JC Penney bag. Then I thought hey: maybe it's a sign that someone we know out there is pregnant! But who?? I can't wait to find out; and then give them this onesie as a present. And maybe the next time I'm sent an item by mistake: it will at least be something in my size!

Live at the Acropolis

Most of the best concerts I have seen on PBS, I have found by accident. Either channel surfing, which I dislike, or I use the channel guide. 

Well way back in 1993, I was channel surfing and happened across a concert that was just beginning. It was  Yanni - In Concert, Live at the Acropolis. What was this? I wondered to myself, as the camera showed beautiful scenery and ancient ruins of Greece. Finally, it showed the most beautiful thing of all: Yanni himself, bedecked in white with a black tie and black belt, standing in the middle of three keyboards.  Well, I thought: what have we here? 

"Yiannis Chryssomallis, known professionally as Yanni, is a Greek-American composer, keyboardist, pianist, and music producer. Yanni continues to use the musical shorthand that he developed as a child, blending jazz, classical, soft rock, and world music to create predominantly instrumental works."** And was the best looking man I had ever seen! Dark moustache, long dark hair, soulful brown eyes and a musician: what wasn't to like?

Needless to say: I was mesmerized. Where had this man been hiding? I watched this concert from beginning to end, and besides his good looks: the music was amazing. He had a full orchestra, and the standout for me was the black woman who, unlike the others, wasn't wearing all black. Nope: Ms. Karen Briggs, American violinist extraordinaire, was wearing a drop-dead red ensemble and was sitting right up front. You go girl! She was the featured violinist and at one point did a dueling violins song with the conductor! Karen didn't even break a sweat! Fabulous! To this day that performance still gives me chills.

Being me, you know I had to tell everyone I knew about this, and they made fun of me as was expected. Who cared? The concert was fantastic, the music was fantastic, my husband Yanni was fantastic...Yep, right up until I realized he was dating Linda Evans of Dynasty fame. Seriously? When he could have had me? At that point our imaginary romance was over. Ugh, the camera even panned to her a couple of times, with her big shoulder pads. Whatever.

However, even Linda Evans couldn't detract from that concert. I was given the DVD one Christmas, and you know I wore that out. But I still have the CD!

And one last thing: apparently I was so enamored of Yanni, the following year, 1994, I actually met and dated a gentleman that looked like Yanni! Same moustache, same flowing long hair, same build but he had gorgeous green eyes instead of brown. I knew at that point I had done something right: until it went wrong. If you want that story, you will have to hunt for my post entitled Yanni Jr.!

So if you get a chance, just check out the concert on YouTube with an open mind. You won't be sorry/ I'm listening to it right now while I work. Okay, every so often I sneak a peek at YouTube and watch for a couple of minutes. Shh...don't tell my boss. It will be our little secret! 😉

**Courtesy of Wikipedia

Comfortably Numb

 I was taking Kitty to the store the other day. After we got back in the car with our groceries, I turned on the radio. The song "Comfortably Numb" was on. "Mom, is this Pink Floyd?" Kitty asked. "It sure is!" I replied enthusiastically. "Cool."

I love Pink Floyd. I'm rather late to the party, as I've only been a major fan for four or five years. I used to be afraid of their music because people said it was 'head music', and I knew that meant drug music. I thought if I listened to it: I would do drugs, so I didn't listen. Yep: another one of my irrational fears. But I digress...

As we were driving home to that song, I started thinking about the past almost two years. I thought about things that had happened, and how I reacted to them. I thought about a couple of battles I still have to face. And as I thought about all of these things, it hit me: I have become 'comfortably numb'.

By this I mean usually when situations happen, you have a fight or flight reaction to them. Or you get emotional about them: cry, scream, throw yourself around the room or something. But I seem to have stopped doing any of that. What I do is internalize and handle the situation with no real feeling behind it: like a robot. Comfortably numb.

I am not saying this is a good thing. My girls tell me to let them in, tell them my feelings, talk about stuff but I don't want to. I tell them that it's my personal business and my personal feelings and I don't have to share them with anybody. Then they get mad and remind me that internalizing stuff isn't good for your health. You think I don't know that? But I can't just spew forth everything I'm feeling, because to me that's a sign of weakness. And I've had to be strong for so long by myself, that weakness is not an option for me.

I know that Pink Floyd is talking about a different kind of numbness, but I can identify. Only it isn't the good feeling like I'm sure they are speaking of. Drugs have never been an option. I just power through.

I'm listening to the song as I write this. How could I have ever been afraid of their music? The lyrics certainly let you know that this is a drug song, but the song isn't telling me to medicate myself. Seriously: I was a weird kid. Yet a drug-free kid!

Anyhoo, I know that I need to get out of this numbness. Sounds like a job for prayer. I have a wonderful friend who prays with me, and for me. Because at some point I want and need to join the world of the 'feeling' again. Amen.

Here is a painting that Kitty did for a friend, but they never picked it up. For some reason I love this picture, even though it is sad. But sometimes this perfectly depicts how I feel.

Jamie, I Hardly Knew Ye

 Here's the one thing I actually like about Facebook: it can connect you with people you might otherwise have never known. That's what happened with me and James Oliver Jr.

He actually found me after my sister Robin died. Not only was he once the family's paperboy, he went to school with Robin. Then in later years he was good friends with Clancy. But I never knew him.

Anyhoo, once we became FB friends, I'd scope out his page to see what he was like. He was a big guy, bald, long beard, loved heavy metal music and motorcycles, sang, played guitar, loved his job, camped and fished. Wow, I thought: he keeps busy! 

Jamie was a devoted family man. You know I had to go through his pictures! He loved his wife, their shared kids, and his little grandson. He had so many true friends and he  lived and loved life to the fullest.

And then the enemy showed up. Cancer. Need I say more? 

Jamie fought the good fight. I prayed for him, had my church pray for him and wanted so much for him to have more time. During this time, he never stopped smiling, never stopped loving, and continued to work at the job he loved so much. He was able to keep people up-to-date on how he was doing. And he would even take time out to message me, or read my blog, or like something of mine on FB. And at the end of the day: he didn't even know me! But that's how we got to be friends.

Clancy isn't on FB so I'd keep him apprised of Jamie's doings. And now I have to tell him that Jamie passed away. What a major bummer...We will go to his service next month.

I wish I'd had more time to get to know Jamie and his wife Kathy through more than just FB. But I love what I did get to know about them.

Here is Jamie. And by the way: I found out from Clancy that I'm the only one that called him Jamie, ha ha. Everyone else called him James or Jim. But Jamie didn't mind!

I'm pretty sure that my sister was in the receiving line when Jamie arrived in Heaven. My friend, you were well loved and will truly be missed. I'm a little envious of the people who really knew you in life, but I'm happy that I got to know a little piece of you.

Oh, and one more thing:

FUCK CANCER.

A Crazy Day in Football

 

We love football in my house. Brie’s favorite team is the Steelers, my favorite team is the Raiders and Kitty loves the Ravens (probably because her sister hates them). Regardless, Sundays are given over to watching whatever games are on, as usually ours aren’t televised unless they are either a) playing a New York team; or b) ahead in the rankings.

So yesterday we started out with the Packers playing the Bengals. And here’s where the craziness began. We had no skin in this game as we are not Packers fans (Aaron Rodgers: please lose the man-bun) nor are we Bengals fans (have we ever watched one of their games?) but this one was the lesser of two evils as no one wanted to watch the Dolphins-Bucs game (no one is a Brady fan).

Getting back to the Packers – Bengals: I’m not sure what was going on with their kickers, Was it windy? Was the field tilted? But both teams missed three: count’em, THREE, field goal attempts. In a row! The game actually went into OT and that is usually too stressful for me, but Brie wanted to watch and root for the Bengals. Packers had first ups, so to speak. And the goal was to just get close enough to score a field goal to win. The offensive line did their job, then here comes the kicker. He was 4 inches from the goal post and it went up: only to hit the goal post and bounce out. Zoink! For the 3^rd time that game! We were excited because now the Bengals just had to get in field goal position and kick a field goal. The offense did their part, they were a foot from the goal posts, the ball went up: and zoink: it hit the goal post and bounced out for the 3^rd time that game! The camera panned to the kicker and he and a few team mates were high fiving and jumping up and down. I was like, “He’s going to feel real dumb in a few seconds.” I was right: that mood changed when they realized it was no goal. I’m sure the coach had some choice words for when they went to the locker room! Then the Packers got the ball again and this time were able to make the goal. So Man-bun’s team won. I really dislike overtime!

The next game was the Giants – Cowboys game. We had to root for the Giants because Brie’s boyfriend loves the Giants. Well I don’t know how he felt about them after they lost to the Cowboys, but I digress. Sorry!

But back to crazy: the late game was the Bills – Chiefs game. We are women, so we root for the Chiefs because hellooo Mahomes and Kelce! Oh, and they’re a good team too. 😁Anyhoo, it wasn’t so much the game, per se, as what happened during the game. When halftime rolled around, a storm had blown in and they emptied the stadium (to the best of their ability) because it was torrential rain and lightning, I believe. So instead of the normal 12-minute half-time, it was an hour. So the commentators had a lot of time to fill. And what did they fill it with? Many showings of the Man-bun - Bengals field goal debacles. Zoink! But then they showed some other crazy stuff. Like the Lions new coach crying at his press conference because the Lions are 0-5 this season. And it’s a new quarterback trying to pull the team together. I felt so bad for him: that I have decided that once again I have to adopt the Detroit Lions until they start winning games consistently. I did it before when they couldn’t win a game to save their lives, and they came back stronger. So I’ll do it again!

And then they told this story about how someone had leaked footage of the Jaguars coach getting a lap dance from some young twenty-something woman. I wanted to see the footage of his wife throat punching him, but no one had that! Now comes the press conference where he apologizes to everyone for his lapse in judgment. Mm hmm…wonder how many of those he’s had over the years.

But the craziest story they told was from info from the Bills locker room. They were upset because their visitor locker room was so small and hot, they had to periodically go out into the hallway for air. They were also upset because there was too much peanut butter, and not enough jelly on the sandwiches they were given. They said it was like 70% peanut butter and only 30% jelly. AND there was no almond butter!! Talk about a bunch of divas with first-world problems! Be thankful you had something to eat that included protein. However, the good news was the oranges were “fire”. 😒Then the commentators were wondering what, exactly, was the correct peanut butter to jelly ratio on a sandwich. Seriously: I can’t make this stuff up!

There you have it. Crazy! The Colts – Ravens play tonight. Go Ravens! I can’t wait to see if any craziness ensues for these teams! But if any does: it will be hard to beat yesterday.

On a side note: can you believe that the Cardinals are the only undefeated team in the NFL? The Jaguars are also 0-5, lap dances notwithstanding. It’s going to be a very interesting season!

Squinky in the Morning

 So...right now I have quite a bit going on. Nothing bad, but also nothing I've talked about yet. And it's something that keeps me up at night, but not in a bad way.

Brie also has a couple of things going on. Something she wants to talk about all the time. That's the difference between her and I: I keep it internal, while she lets it all out.

Anyhoo, her situation has her a little tense. I try to help, but there's only so much I can do. And then she gets squinky and frustrated and then we might have words or stop speaking altogether because she's mad at me. Squinky!.

This morning was a squinky time. We were getting ready for work, and I didn't have any fruit. Then I remembered I had  a few frozen grapes in the freezer. I would take them! So I got a Ziploc bag, opened the freezer, took out the bowl only to discover there were only six grapes in there. Oh well: better than nothing and I'd go to the store later.

Then I heard Brie from the dining room. "I don't have anything for snack today. Hey, what are you doing?" She came into the kitchen. "I'm packing up the last of the grapes." "But I didn't have any!" "Brie, these grapes have been here for four days, you knew they were here and there are only six." "Oh great: now I have nothing!" (even though I had told her last night that we had apple slices. But I digress...)

Inside, I knew the issue wasn't the grapes. But I stupidly said, "Then you take them." "No you already have them. I'll just have nothing." "Brie, there are only six but please take them." "No!" and she headed out of the kitchen.

I went after her, Ziploc bag in hand. "Just take them!" "No!" We got to the living room and I threw them into her workbag. "Just take them!" She took them out. "No just forget it!"  She put the bag back in my hand, and I was well over it by now. "Fine!" I mustered up my dignity, turned and went to step smartly away.

However, in my midst of righteous indignation, I failed to notice the Puffs tissue box on the floor. I smartly stepped on it, went to walk, didn't realize it was stuck to my foot, the slippery box slid on the floor, I did a turn, started to fall, reached for the small gray chair by my couch, only got part of it, did another pirouette and landed sideways on part of the chair.

How Brie kept from howling with laughter at this, I have no idea. "Are you okay?" she asked. As I got up and felt the pain in my left knee I said, "Yes I'm fine." "Enjoy your grapes." And she left after saying a half-hearted "love you".

So as I hobbled around, gathering up my purse, work bag and Rocky Mountain tumbler, I decided two things. 1) Brie is a hater when she's squinky; and 2) the next time she wants frozen grapes she can make them herself!

By the way: here's what we do with the grapes to make them fight-over worthy:

Wash the grapes. Pat them dry. Put them in a bowl. Sprinkle your favorite flavor of dry Jello over them. Roll them around so they're covered. Throw them in the freezer for an hour or two. Delicious!! Enjoy!

Behind the Video - Addictive

 I'm sure that most of you have never heard of this song by a beautiful black woman called Truth Hurts.  I had never heard of her until I saw this video on MTV one day. The song was released in 2002 as the lead single from her debut album entitled Truthfully Speaking. She's singing about her gangster boyfriend and how good their connection/sex life is and how she understands when she has to wait for him to show up due to the nature of his "work" (you know, drug dealing and what not) but it's worth it. Here are a few of the lyrics, and I get no money for this, I own no rights, but it lets you know what you need to:

"He breaks me down, he builds me up, He fills my cup, I like it rough. We fuss, we brawl, we rise, we fall. He comes in late, but it's ok. He do, I do, he knows the rules. He takes care of home, though he's not alone. I'm on his knee, he keeps me clean; and gives me things, he makes me scream."

I really liked the song, even though I'm naive and don't understand all of that kind of talk, haha. But it was the video itself that had me absolutely riveted. The song has a nice R&B / hip hop rhythm with some middle Eastern tones, so it already wasn't  your typical dance song. The video opens with her laying in a bed, and then quickly moves to lovely women with henna tattoos, belly-dancing.

Let's stop here for a minute. If you know me at all, you know that the minute I saw this I had to immediately get up and try to belly-dance. And I'm sure we all know what happened: or if you don't just ask Brie. I'm sure she's still laughing. But I digress...

So it turns out that the ladies aren't dancing in her bedroom, but in what turns out to be a club. A club with a bedroom for her and her man, apparently. So she's singing and belly-dancing with her friends, and then the camera pans to this man coming down a set of stairs but you don't see his face yet. And then I hear Brie gasp. "Mom, it's dad!"

I'm sure I broke the sound barrier getting to the TV where the camera zoomed in on this good looking black gentleman who started rapping: 

"Thinking of a master plan, you know anything you need baby ask your man. You was there from a  half a gram, now it's kilos to c-notes and high fashion brands. We ball like we own the world, your only concern is you my only girl. And when we're speaking in tongues, breathin' hard when I'm squeezin' your lungs; keep it strong, but I gotta hit the streets with I'm done..."

It was my was-band Raymond! And he was a famous rapper now? My head immediately started spinning with the thoughts of how fast I was going to get my 20 years' worth of child support! The dollar signs were lighting up in my eyes...

But then I took a closer look. Oh crap: it wasn't the was-band at all: it was Rakim, who is an actual rapper! So it must be true that everyone has a twin because I honestly thought it was my ex. Ugh!

"It's (effed) up but you never complain, you just pray I don't get killed when I hit the hood. Just another hundred mill and I'm a quit for good. Just me and you high off sex I'm twisted: you OG'd and you OD addicted." 

Well he sounded and looked like Raymond. Only clean and healthy and rich. Brie said, "Wow, I really thought that was dad. He looks just like him!"

"Yeah but sadly it isn't your father so no back child support, as usual!" I thought to myself that if Rakim was single, maybe our paths would cross someday. And I wouldn't even compare him to the was-band! 

Anyhoo, I haven't met Rakim yet. I still really like the video because Rakim is easy on the eyes and the dancing is mesmerizing, even though I quickly learned that belly-dancing isn't my forte. But it was fun to entertain Brie while I tried! And just for the record: she was no expert either! 😄

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

 I had a dream last night that really resonated with me yet was bittersweet. It might have been a “visit”, but regardless I wanted to share it with you while it’s still fresh.

In this dream my good friend Tom Finch came to visit me at Marie’s house. I was so glad to see him! Judging by his hair, it should have been the 70’s, but based on circumstances I know the timeframe was between late 2004 and Fall of 2015. We spent time catching up, and then he took a seat at the piano.

Tom, even in high school, was a very accomplished pianist. In the dream I sat on the piano bench next to him and he said, “Let’s play a duet.” “Oh no,” I demurred, “you know I only took lessons for a couple of years.” “Coward!” he teased. “Then let’s get a book out and play.” At this point, Marie, Clancy, Robin and a couple of relatives were sitting in the living room watching us.

Tom and I looked in the piano bench where the music books were kept: but there weren’t any. I rummaged around on top of the piano but was only able to find a music book entitled “The Star-Spangled Banner” which was full of patriotic songs. We took a pass on that. Another couple of books were old and tattered so they were no good to us. I finally said to him, “Play something from memory.” “Like what?”  I didn’t even have to think about it. “Play ‘Morning Has Broken’.”

Clancy had his radio going so I told him to turn it off while Tom played; and he did.

When we were in high school, one day Tom really did stop by to visit. He met Marie, who loved the piano, and he sat down and played ‘Morning Has Broken’ for her. As a teen girl I was already a little in love with him, but that sealed the deal for me. But alas: we were never more than good friends…

Getting back to the dream: as he played Marie was watching and smiling, the other relatives were enjoying the performance and Robin was smiling. Then I realized that Tom was playing my old piano, which Marie and Robin had traded in years ago for Robin’s new piano. My father wasn’t there as he had died in 2004. And if there were no piano books anywhere: Robin was gone too because she always had the piano bench stuffed with music books, the top of the piano held books and there were always 2 or 3 on the music stand. She passed away in 2015 yet she showed up smiling in my dream.

So there you have it. I woke up with that bittersweet feeling in my heart because of the people I miss, but it’s always good to “see” Robin! When I saw Tom at a reunion a few years ago, I asked him if he still played. Sadly, he has arthritis and doesn’t play anymore. What a shame because he was concert-good. But at least he can still play in my dreams, and I’m grateful for that.

Thanks Burtie!

 I have a co-worker that I have nicknamed Burtie. I only call her that in emails, and no one else calls her that. But it seemed like a fitting nickname to me, so I'm going with it!

Anyhoo, the other day Burtie and I were chatting for a few minutes about our mothers, and how saintly they thought they were. "One time when I was maybe five," I began, "my parents took us to the store with them. When we got back to the car, I showed Marie a package of life savers." "Where did you get that?" she asked me. "From the store," Of course this did not sit well with her at all since it wasn't paid for. "That is stealing," she admonished, "and we don't do that." "I'm sorry," I said, feeling terrible. "That's okay," Marie said. "Just don't do it again. Give those to me." I did, and she proceeded to eat them in front of us kids. "Let that be a lesson to you," she concluded. Um...what was the lesson? Wait until your parent isn't around and then eat your stolen goods?

Burtie laughed. "That's a good one! But I bet I can top that;" She then told her story:

"When I was around three or four, my saintly mother took us to the store with her. She expected all of her children to be pious and saintly like she was but we were kids. So we went through the store and she got the items we needed and then went back to the car. Unbeknownst to us, my brother had taken some candy from the store and was eating it like there was no tomorrow. But my mother noticed and said, "What are you doing?" When my brother didn't say anything she made us all get out of the car and she marched us back into the store. She explained to the manager what had happened and he said, "Oh it's okay, it's kids being kids." "Oh?" my mother said. "When he comes back here in 15 years and steals from you, are you still going to say that?" The manager was nonplussed at that. "I want  you to punish him so he never steals again." The manager said, "What do you want me to do?" And my mother said in a low, menacing voice, "I want you to call the police."

"Well you wouldn't think something like that would happen, but by now the manager was afraid of my mother, and rightfully so! So believe it or not: the police were called in to scare my brother straight. And at the end of it all the store actually posted my brother's picture on the wall and it said, "If you see this person keep an eye on him. He's a thief."

I was aghast. "Are you kidding me??"

"Nope! My mother meant business! And it scared me so much: I've never to this day EVER stolen anything. We went into that Barber's Market almost every day and there was my little brother's picture. It was so embarrassing!"

I laughed and laughed. "That is awesome! Your mother is a gangster!"

"Yes she is!"

I just loved that story. Thanks Burtie for letting me tell it!

My Friend Argus

 

My very good friend Argus came up for a visit this week, and we got to go out Saturday night and catch up. He lives in PA and I hadn’t seen him in over a year (thanks Covid!). As we reminisced over potato skins and chocolate chip lava cake (which had NO lava, by the way) I remembered when we first met.

Theoretically, we shouldn’t be friends. My original job moved to Atlanta, GA 3 years ago and I wasn’t mobile. Luckily, I had taken a couple of Civil Service tests and was number one on the lists, so I got to interview for my current job and they loved me! So, I was in.

My first day I pulled into the parking lot and parked. I was early so I sat there for a few minutes. Presently, I saw this young man heading for the building. What was notable was he had a backpack, and even though it was August he was wearing a jaunty hat. Not a fedora, but something smaller and kind of similar. I immediately thought he was crazy and forgot about him as I got out of my car to go to Human Resources.

Afterwards I was escorted to my new office. Imagine my surprise when I entered, and the first person I saw was the guy in the hat! I was introduced to those I hadn’t met during the interview, and discovered his name was Argus. And based on the hat: the name fit. They had a nice welcome to Financial Aid continental breakfast spread for me, and everyone was very nice.

The brunt of the training fell on Argus, as I’d be doing that kind of work. It was a little awkward with both of us sitting at the same desk, but we made it work. He wasn’t the cuddliest person I’d ever worked with but I figured it was because we were strangers.

WRONG!! I asked one of my friendlier coworkers where I’d be sitting after my training. She said, “At Argus’s desk.” “Um – then where is Argus going to sit?” “Well, you’re replacing him so he will have to find another job.” I guess that explained the frostiness! Apparently, he had gotten that job through a temp agency and he knew in order to keep it and be hired as a permanent employee, he had to pass the civil service test and score in the top three. Unfortunately, he did not do so; so after almost two years they couldn’t put it off any longer. Some people just don’t do well with testing; whereas I used to do it as a hobby (yep: more proof I’m a nerd).

So now I was faced with a quandary: how was I going to get him to like me, when I was taking his job?  The simple answer: charm him with my usual friendly, funny, twinkly self! I knew this might be a challenge but I was up for it!

Well you know the rest: he couldn’t hold out when my charm is on full blast! It took a little work but eventually he thawed out enough to be friends. We would sometimes have lunch together, and I really have no idea how the other people in the room could stand us. We always ended up laughing uproariously at something, and they would just look at us and roll their eyes. Don’t be jealous of our good time! And occasionally we would meet out for a bite to eat or a coffee just to chat. He is quirky and funny and has the best laugh. I’m glad I got to find that out!

But alas: all good things must come to an end. His time in our office ended and he was going to see where his next work adventure would take him. Little did we know that it would be to an office 2 buildings down! So he got to come back for a while. Just when the 2 ladies in the break room thought it was safe to have lunch!

Anyhoo, getting back to his last day: he walked me to my car so we could say so long, not goodbye. We stood there and talked for a good 40 minutes, neither one wanting to leave. But we both had things to do so finally we wished each other well. And then he opened his arms. Yep: like a homing pigeon I went right into them. It was the best hug I’d ever received, and coming from Argus it meant a lot. It was a good, strong, full-body full-of- meaning hug: the kind you want to just go on forever. But we finally separated and I told him he was one of my favorite people in the world; and he dittoed that sentiment. Thankfully, before it got mushy, I said to him, “I’m really going to miss your hat.” That brought on the laughter.

Since then, he has moved to Pennsylvania but we still keep in touch. When he visits family members up north he lets me know when he’s coming so we can get together. I will text him and say, “I miss your hat. And your face.”  So when we get together we laugh. And hug. If he could bottle those, he’d be a millionaire.

We just got together this past Saturday night. We enjoy spending time together, and he has admitted that no one makes him laugh more than me. I say, “As long as you’re laughing with me and not at me!” to which he replies, “No guarantees!”

So that’s my story of Argus, the best hugger in the world. Yes, we hugged before we parted Saturday night. And that was even better than the lava cookie. 😊 I wish I could have one of those every day. Maybe someday from some lucky man! And in case you're wondering: the hat is called a Trilby. See: you do learn something new every day!

Aww...no hat!

Friday Flash

 

I’m at work and listening to my cool tunes on the Victrola (my phone). The song “The Big Payback” by James Brown comes on, and suddenly I have a flashback…

I’m back in high school at a Friday night dance. My best friends are with me, and the deejay is actually pretty good.  We were chitchatting, but all of us had our eyes on one of the chaperones. It was a student teacher named John Kahn.

In my mind’s eye I can still see him: taller than me, slender, slightly wavy dark hair, dark brown eyes and glasses and a mustache. Being a student teacher, he wasn’t all that much older than we were; and every girl I knew had a crush on him. Of course, I didn’t let anyone know that I had a crush, because I didn’t want to seem like everyone else. And you know how I like to stand out in a crowd!

Anyhoo, when a group of girls would dance he would join them and they would be jostling for position next to him. But being me: that wasn’t good enough. So during a lull I actually went up to him and said, “Do you think we could dance to the next one?” “Yeah sure!” he responded. Now I wasn’t sure if he actually meant it, if he said it to be nice, or if he was stoned and didn’t know what he was saying. (Oh please: we all knew he’d snuck outside to smoke weed with whoever was holding!)

Imagine my inner surprise and delight when he came to claim me for “The Big Payback”, which was one of my favorite songs! I couldn't believe the deejay had that song! And although his rhythm was a little off: who cared??? I was the only one he was dancing with and everyone was watching and all of my friends were totally jealous! And at the end of the day: isn’t that what it’s all about? I was the only one he solo danced with, probably because no one else knew how to catch that rhythm. (including him but again: who cared? He was hot.)

Ah, memories! And this was a good one for me. I sometimes wonder what ever happened to him, and if he really became a teacher. Regardless: I hope Mr. Kahn  led a good life and kept on dancing. You know I did!

A Little Bible Lesson

I feel like a little sermon today...

 Once upon a time I knew a man who swore up and down that he didn't believe in God. Yet in the next breath he would say, "I know my mother has her angel wings now that she's in Heaven."

Really? Who is she in Heaven with, if you don't believe in God? How did she get there? How would there be a Heaven without God? It just sprang from swamp water after the "big bang" happened?

And while he didn't "believe" in God, he would say, "My name is taken from the death angel." Wrong again! With no God, there would be no angels. And check the Bible: Michael is the angel of war, not death. "And there was war in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not, neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him." Revelation 12:7-9. There was no name for the death angel in the Christian Bible, (just in other religions and paganism), whom God sent to kill the firstborn sons of the Egyptians. God told Moses to tell the Israelites to put lamb's blood on their doors so the death angel would pass over their houses. "For I will pass through the land of Egypt this night, and will smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the Lord. And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt. And it came to pass, that at midnight the Lord smote all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sat on his throne unto the firstborn of the captive that was in the dungeon; and all the firstborn of cattle." Exodus 12:12-13, 29.

By the way, just for the record: people don't "turn" into angels when they die, nor do they get wings. Angels are created beings, created to serve and worship God, often referred to as the Heavenly host. “You are the Lord, you alone; you have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host . . . and the host of heaven worships you.” Nehemiah 9:6. God formed man from the earth, and breathed the breath of life into him. "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." Genesis 2:7.

Even though I know this particular man won't see this post, I feel good having rebutted his supposed beliefs. 😏 

So there you have it. All scripture references are from the King James Bible, which is my favorite. If you want to discuss or have questions, feel free to contact me! Or better yet: come to church with me sometime. I guarantee you won't regret it!

My Muse

I was  cleaning out my personal email and happened to come across a document entitled "My Muse". I had no idea what this was. There was no original date on it so I do not know when I actually wrote this. However, I do remember who it was about, so it has to be approximately 20 years old. Wow... It isn't an example of my best work, but I'll still claim it. 

Anyhoo, here it is. Apparently I was a very different person when I wrote this! But that's okay: I'm still a beloved child of the King.

MY MUSE

I'll miss the way you look. Blue gaze endless 

as the sky at noon; 

A quicksilver smile with a hint of mischief. 

Lips pursed in an unconscious moue. 

Expressive hands, artistic fingers itching to make 

me your own private canvas.

I'll miss the way you talk. Excited, words tumbling 

over themselves in their haste 

to be free. 

Fierce: conveying your loyalty and support. Your

accent, reminding me

of a time 

that's long ago and far away...

I'll miss the way you smell. A mixture of 

cigarette smoke and 

couture cologne, 

with a touch of your own personal scent thrown in 

to assuage 

my olfactory senses.

I'll miss the way you feel. A naturally muscled 

torso inviting my hands 

to explore every area;

from pierced nipple to Eye of Rah and below.

I'll miss the way you kiss. Taking me by surprise 

every time, 

each kiss like a 

full frontal assault. Seemingly from nowhere,

to everywhere.

I'll miss the way you taste. Like springtime, 

spearmint and abundant life.

But you're not springtime: you're Autumn. Teasing, 

transient Indian summer 

leading to a bleak, never-ending winter. 

My metaphor for your departure.

Imminent, permanent, unavoidable. I'll miss...you...

A Movie Marathon

 Saturday I got up early enough to catch the movie "The Dark Tower", starring my husband Idris Elba. I figured I'd watch it until it was time to get ready to go to the gym, and then record the rest. I had seen it at the theatre but it certainly warranted watching again!

I began to get ready. I was exiting the bathroom after my shower, but then started to feel... off. I made it to the couch and sat there for a couple of minutes. "Are you okay?" Brie asked. "Not really," I responded. I finally got out  my meter and checked my blood sugar. Yep: I was having a sugar low.

I don't have these very often, but when I do I know it. Then my girls spring into action. Of course I couldn't find anything close by to up my sugar, so thankfully Kitty brought me a caffeine free Pepsi and some taffy. "Here you go mom: this will help!" What a combination! But I dutifully drank some Pepsi and ate a couple of pieces of taffy.  Slowly I began to feel better but knew I wouldn't make it to the gym that day. Or anyplace else for that matter. So I laid on the couch to watch the rest of Dark Tower. I mean to rest!

My blood sugar level did go up some, but shockingly not a lot. I had another swig of Pepsi, Kitty made me something to eat, I checked the channel guide, and decided to watch the movie "Logan" with Hugh Jackman. I had never seen it and figured I'd probably fall asleep during it.

Nope! It was a good movie, full of action and gore, not like the other X-Men movies but I enjoyed it until the sad ending. I'm not going to ruin it for you: watch it yourselves if you want to know what happens. It's worth it!

There is a  new movie that is coming out this year that is the 3rd in a successful installment of movies. I had heard that you needed to see the first two to really enjoy this one. And lo and behold: the other two were coming on back to back! So I got ready to watch...Deadpool 1 and 2.

I had never been able to make it past the first couple of minutes of even the first one. But on this day, being pretty much just a fixture on the couch for the day, I figured I'd power through. And you know what? Yes they were rude and crude and violent and gross and whatnot: but also funny as all get out. Ryan Reynolds is amazing and funny, and the rest of the cast was so good in their roles! In the second one there was a teenage boy who for some reason reminded me of Rebel Wilson, but I digress. 

Anyhoo, I watched both movies and was glad I did! Then thinking about them, I realized that none of the characters in the upcoming movie, were in either Deadpool. And that's when I realized it wasn't Deadpool at all, but Suicide Squad! Seriously! And it would only be the second Suicide Squad movie, not the third. If my sugar had been normal maybe I would have realized sooner. But I didn't. And you know what? I'm not even mad about it. Those were two guilty pleasure movies, and I needed some pleasure that day. I'm pretty sure I won't watch them again and I don't regret seeing them.

But now: do I have it in me to watch Suicide Squad? Should I? Maybe if they show it on a Saturday when I'm home. However, please hold the sugar low!

 

Music While Working From Home

My original laptop is 10 years old. Ben, my tech guy (thankfully the beard is gone!), says it's the last good Dell that was made and he keeps it in tiptop condition. But maybe 3 years ago Brie bought me a new laptop for Christmas so my Dell kind of fell by the wayside.

Now, however, since I am working from home, the Christmas laptop is too small. So the Dell is back in business! When I charged it, turned it on and saw my desktop, I realized that my iTunes were still there. That was the good news. The bad news was it hadn't been updated in a couple of years, I had no clue what my password was and I needed that music!

Long story short: I did the LONG overdue update, reset the password and then logged in. However: I didn't see any of my songs. What happened to them? Lord knew I would be hard-pressed to buy all of those songs over again! And then I saw it: my music icon up in the left-hand corner. Silly me! So with much anticipation, I clicked on the icon -

And a whole unexpected world of song titles was in front of me! Songs I had totally forgotten about! Songs with great memories! And then songs I had never heard of...where had they come from? After listening to a few seconds of some of them, I remembered that at one point Schmoop-Dog had given me an iTunes card and asked me to make him some CDs. Whew! Glad the Rhino Bucket, Ugly Kid Joe, Whitesnake  and Danger Danger songs didn't belong to me!

Of course, according to Brie, there are some songs I shouldn't claim either. For instance, she hates the song "Evacuate the Dance Floor" by Cascada. She says no one would have heard of that song of it wasn't for that Dance Revolution video game and commercial. She's probably right, because I only heard the part from the commercial and I was hooked. Never even heard it on the radio! She also dislikes my dance tunes from my disco days when I was the Queen of the Club, at the age of 16 and 17 (don't tell Marie!). But those were great days! Who doesn't love Put Your Body In It, Keep Your Body Working, and Push Push in the Bush? I mean: besides Brie. Hey: dancing to those long club cuts is the reason why I was able to model my way through college. It kept my figure on point no matter what I ate! And my legs are still holding up! Disco rocks! Oh, and there are also rock songs, R&B and 600 more so I never run out of music.

And for the record: she had me download some questionable songs for her too. Like Duffle Bag Boy, I'm on One, Ice Cream Paint Job, Put it in Your Mouth and Whip and Nae Nae. Needless to say: I have deleted those songs.

So now my iTunes are just great songs that make my work from home day go by faster. I sing along, chair dance and basically forget any blues I may feel from having had to work from home for so long. And good news: I'll be back in the office 5 days a week starting August 2nd! Yay!

But I will miss the chair dancing and singing out loud. Somehow I don't think my co-worker Nancy would appreciate that particular show 😀 Or would she???? 😎

Not Again!

Summer has barely started but we've already had quite a few hot and humid days. With the sun blazing brightly, I realized that I needed my favorite sunblock to keep my arms from getting a farmer's tan. I had run out of it last year, but thankfully I had a Bath and Body Works gift card to order some online.

I went to the website and searched True Blue Spa Sunscreen. Nothing came up.  Then I searched just True Blue Spa and no match came up! . Say what??? I hastily searched Shea Cashmere and no match came up. Say it ain't so! But even a search of sunscreen proved futile on that website. Once again, a favorite product of mine was gone. 

I should be used to this as it seems to happen to me all the time (see Whatever Happened To.... June 17, 2020). Things that I really like seem to just disappear off the shelves like they were never there. This time though, I really, REALLY needed sunscreen! And the one from Bath and Body Works was a spray on that smelled really good and was very refreshing. Gone!

So now what was I going to do? Contact the company so they could say "Sorry for your luck"? Nope! I went to Plan B: Amazon! Thankfully I'm a Prime member so I could order some and get free shipping. Hooray!

As you can imagine: this is not how it went! I smugly pulled up Amazon and searched True Blue Spa Sunscreen. Eureka! There it was. But of course: it wasn't prime so I had to pay for shipping! AND it wasn't 2-day. AND they said they only had 10 left in stock because it was discontinued! Man, it hurt to not be able to use the gift card and also to have to pay for shipping. But I had to have this sunscreen so I did all of that.

Now the other bad news is: what am I going to do when my stash is gone? The girls already know they aren't allowed to use this since it can't be replaced. So eventually it will be time for Plan C. Can't wait to see what this entails.

In the meantime: I wonder what is the next thing that's going to disappear???? Oh, and if any of you know of a good spray on sunscreen that smells nice, let me know!

My TV Rant for Today

 Once upon a time, Maury Povich was a serious journalist based in Washington, D.C. I'm not sure what happened: maybe he decided it wasn't entertaining enough. Regardless, eventually he got his own TV show in 1998. Yes it was tabloid journalism, but he did try to help people. Parents with recalcitrant kids would get "scared straight", people in bad domestic situations would be offered a way out, young teen girls wanting to get pregnant finding out what it's like to take care of a baby (using the "baby live" doll): you get the picture.

However, somewhere over the years his show went left. Now he does nothing but who-the-baby-daddy shows.

Sure, every once in a great while was okay. Giving DNA tests so child support, etc. could be worked out. But a show they aired recently just put me over the edge.

This young woman, probably in her early to mid-twenties was making her second appearance on the show. The first time she was trying to find the father of her lovely little daughter. She had brought three men along. And surprise, surprise: none of them was the father. So she runs off stage crying and all butt-hurt because the guys are high-fiving and whooping it up because they are having unprotected sex with her but weren't "caught", so didn't have to do anything for her.

So now she comes on the show a second time: not for the daughter, but for her new baby. And she brings along the same three guys! Oh, and adds the uncle of one of them. Why is this woman still having unprotected sex with these same men, and one's family member, and having another baby?? She says she is done looking for the father of the little girl, but knows the father of the new baby is one of the yahoos she brought along.

And surprise, surprise: none of them was the father! So she runs offstage and falls to the ground to cry while again the guys are high-fiving and happy that they again didn't get "caught". And when Maury gets to the girl she tells him to leave her alone because she doesn't want him embarrassing her. Say what??? I don't think it was Maury!

I would have thought that he might show some compassion or get her some counseling or something. NOPE! He just sends her on her way. Didn't say "keep your legs closed" or "get rid of these yahoos" or concentrate on your kids, not on sleeping around. She got nothing but a trip back home to continue on with this same behavior, sadly.

Now I hope that woman knows she needs to take a good, hard look at her life and make some changes. I hope she knows that her behavior isn't good for her or her kids; and one day she might end up with something worse than a fatherless child.  And shame on Maury for offering her nothing, but pandering to an audience that thrives on others' misfortune.

And just for the record:  if I'm home during the day, I have the TV on the National News Desk and listen to that in the morning. I don't bother to change the channel, and Maury comes on at some point after that. But maybe I need to listen to different news until Maury goes back to being ethical. I would think he has earned enough money from these sensationalist shows. It's time to try to help people, not exploit their hurt and embarrassment for ratings. Seriously.

Behind the Music: Wives and Lovers

 I'm not even sure how I happened across this old song. But as I was listening to it, I was laughing and also horrified at the lyrics. It was written in 1963, and originally sung by Jack Jones. It even won a Grammy in 1964! The song came about when Burt Bacharach and Hal David were asked to write a song with the title "Wives and Lovers" with the theme being marital infidelity. It was a promotional tie-in for the 1963 film Wives and Lovers. The song wasn't in the film but was intended to promote the film; and that made it an "exploitation song".

Anyhoo,  if Burt Bacharach and Hal David were to write something like this today: female villagers would chase them with torches!

I vaguely remembered this song from when I worked at an oldies station and thought it was crazy. However, if you watched TV shows or movies from this era, you'll realize that it is actually how things were. I do not own any rights to this song and am making no money from using the lyrics. But seriously: these need to be discussed.

"Hey, little girl, 

Comb your hair, fix your make-up

Soon, he will open the door.

Don't think because there's a ring on your finger

You needn't try any more."

Oh if only you could see my face 😠...So apparently, when it's time for hubby to come home from work, you'd better stop what you're doing to fix  your face and hair so he doesn't see what he actually married. And who are you calling 'little girl'?

"For wives should always be lovers too

Run to his arms the  moment he comes home to you

I'm warning you."

So now it seems that being a wife isn't good enough. And run to his arms when he gets home? Run to him and knock him over as you run out the door!

"Day after day

There are girls at the office

And men will always be men.

Don't send him off with your hair still in curlers

You may not see him again."

Oh I'll see him again. In court, when I take him for everything he has! Now you have to get up extra early and do your hair to compete with the trolls at his office??? They have all the time in the world because they're not up at 5 a.m. And what's he doing for me? Men will always be men you say? Yep: until you kick him in the biscuits!

"Hey, little girl

Better wear something pretty

Something you'd wear to go to the city

And dim all the lights

Pour the wine, start the music

Time to get ready for love."

I'm okay with wearing something nice instead of a housecoat and slippers. But if you're not taking me to the city, I'm not breaking out my Michael Kors dress. And if I'm dimming the lights, you won't get a good look at what I'm wearing anyway. As for pouring the wine: you don't think I've already been drinking all day because of what I have to do to keep you? Start the music? How about if I start the car and go looking like you do in the office? Time to get ready for love. It's time to find someone to appreciate me as I am, or at least who will do the same for me.

Yes I know times were different back then; and this was the norm for women. Ever notice in those old movies and TV shows how they always looked perfect? The women wore dresses and high heels and pearls with perfect hairdos, whether they were doing housework or serving tea to their lady friends. God bless them! I'm just glad I'm in this era because that's a lot of work. Just hoping it was worth it! I think I'm going to write an answer song to this called "Husbands and Lovers". After all: turnabout is fair play! 

Not Enough Time

 I found out at church yesterday that my good friend, and brother in Christ, Larry Ball, passed away Saturday. It was like a punch to the gut. I knew his health had been fragile for a while, but I thought I'd have him for more than two years...

I met Larry and his wife at our church after they had attended a funeral service for a relative who passed away. They came for the service and repast, and then continued to come. Except when they were wintering in Louisiana 😊 Back in BC (before covid) we would do a little meet and greet before service started so you could say hi and shake people's hands. 

Larry was a big, gentle giant of a man. I remember shaking hands with him for the first time and his hand more than engulfed mine. He had a smile as big as his heart. "How are you today, Miss?" Extra points for not calling me ma'am! His smile was contagious and reached his eyes. Every Sunday after that I always made a beeline for him because he had the Spirit of Christ emanating from him. He was a good Christian man who loved to serve the Lord, and brought that from his home church to our church. I'm so glad!

His wife was one of the best singers our church had ever had, and I liked sitting in front of them so I could hear her sing the hymns with her amazing voice. Then covid hit and they had to take proper precautions because they were over 65 and for his health reasons. So I missed them for awhile!

However, he and I became Facebook friends. I loved whenever he would send me a message or comment on a post, because he always called me 'gal' and would say, "love you sister!" which is more than my siblings say to me, ha ha. And I would reply, "love you brother!" He always read my blog (and never judged!) when it posted to Facebook. What a sweetheart he was 💓

He had been in the hospital, then rehab and was finally able to come home. I thought he was doing better when I found out he was home, and back on FB. But alas: on Saturday God told him, "Well done, my good and faithful servant," and took him peacefully home.

The day before he died the pastor was talking to him. Larry said, "I'm ready to be with the Savior, but I think He might have a little more for me to do here." I guess it was to spend one more day loving his family.

I'm going to miss my big teddy bear of a friend. That smile and the twinkle in his eyes. Two years of friendship definitely wasn't enough. But the good news is: one day I will see him again and we can take up right where we left off! Love you brother 💛

Even Me

 When you hear that someone has committed suicide, do you think, "Why? Suicide is the permanent solution to a temporary problem." I know that I do. But what most people don't know is that even I tried that once.

It was a lifetime ago, when I was married to the was-band (former husband). As you know, I don't talk about my failed marriage because what's the point? I have always been a strong person, but there was a time when this marriage almost broke me.

I remember that day with such clarity...I was on my knees in the bedroom crying because I saw no way out of my situation. I had prayed but couldn't hear God's voice. We had a very sharp butcher knife and I held it in my right hand. Even though my own belief is that suicide is a sin, I was unable to live the life that I was anymore. There was too much pain; and thinking about living another day was excruciating. So I took the knife, held out my left arm, and slashed my left wrist.

Nothing happened. I looked at the knife, felt the blade: yep, it was the correct butcher knife. I tried again, slashing vertically...

And again...nothing. Then I took the knife and started sawing at the vein. It's hard to explain but it was like there was a film or something over my wrist. I threw the knife. "Are you kidding me!?" I yelled. "Just let me do this!" But as you can tell, God had other ideas. 

As I look back over the years, I can see reasons why God spared me. He knew that others would need me to be around for them: most especially Kitty and Brie. Friends that went through difficult times and needed me for a shoulder or a laugh. My family when my father died. My family again when Robin died. And Marie...

Even if you can't see beyond your own pain, God can. If you don't believe in God talk to me: I can tell you about a whole lot of miracles that only He could have made happen. And when you get help, and look back, you'll see that the problem was temporary. And like me: I hope you'll be glad that you didn't take the permanent solution.

Amen.