So, you perhaps witnessed the birth of your grandchildren. I did! My daughter had her first and it was quite a, shall we say, an experience! "Mom", said the coolest Doctor west of the Hudson River, in his Cowboy Boots and Cowboy Hat, looking way too sexy to have been a scientific scholar, "you are too weak for this..." as he was about to inject my "baby" with some sort of something. "We'll have Dad hold her..." I waited on a comfy couch until the nurse appeared and said, "Oh, Mrs. Macy! Please come with me...Dad is out cold! The Doctor has asked for your assistance!" HA! Mr. "I'm too cool and sexy passed out!" From that time (8 years, three months, 12 days ago), I have been the support, the MeMe (may-may - familiar French) to beat the band! There are no limits to my time, talent, finances (thank you Mr. Macy) to enter and win the gold in the Grandparents' Olympics!
After Todd, Tess blessed us with her presence. Dad had the intelligence (fleeting though it has been) to STAY AWAY and let me take care of Todd (#1) and the delivery where I talked MY MOTHER through the entire thing. (Too graphic?). I wanted my Mom to share the experience of her second great-grandchild.
With # 3, Tanner was high risk, however, all is well. Madonna baby-sat the duo and three years after Tess, we were graced with Tanner. God bless cell phones and my New York aggressive streak, Mom and Chaunce, Grandpa got the play by play. Dad not allowed in AGAIN.
The trio basically "had everything". I was the fun grandmother who moved Heaven and Earth to "help" Santa, etc. I made sure that the trio had the most, the best, etc. Now, I know that "Money is the Root of Evil" and "You can't buy love" and "Family is important, not gifts". I have heard all of that from those who HAVE NOT. I appreciate the sentiments. I respect them. However, if you can and don't share, SHAME ON YOU! If I have $5.00 and my grandchildren/children need it, I give them $10! My grandmother did that, you know! My parents do that, you know! My mantra...IF YOU CAN...DO! I was not raised with a silver spoon, I sported a "knock off". I just didn't realize that we were not wealthy. My childhood was what I call "Grapevine Days" (someother time). The family was open, loving, giving (even an orange instead of gold), and there was a peace, security wrapped it that!
So, now, birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, Easter gifts and the like are in the form of "trips". Todd and I flew to New York, Tess and I flew to New Jersey; Tanner (young yet) had a day at the Theatre, we've gone to Hockey Games, special weekends of lunches, ear piercing, jewlry, etc. We have done the Water Parks...Kalahari, Great Wolf, CoCoKey. This year, shhhhhhhhhh, we will board a "Pirate Adventure Cruise in Ft. Lauderdale.
Last year, we went to Great Wolf Lodge. My daughter and I are Pros at this with the Trio. We travel extremely well together! The Hotel dropped the ball, I wrote a nasty-gram and now, we are guests of a "Comp" weekend to make amends.
My point of this Blog: I stood behind a Grandmother from Englewood, Ohio in the Check In line. This is actually something that you could include in your resume, because you spend a lot of time attempting to check in and get "soaked", literally) She told me (because, Great Wolf is making amends, but the system still stinks), she is of my thought that instead of buying "another sweater, etc that no one needs or wants", she saves for an entire year and treats the family to a vacation for Christmas! I really felt that this woman was my "sister". She said that she had never been to an Indoor Water Resort before and didn't know what to expect.
Sadly, I KNEW! I explained that at Great Wolf, for a mortgage on your garage, you could purchase magic wands and Kids can go on "quests" when they already felt water logged! The Ice Cream Salon was for our little princesses to have ice cream flavored Mani-Pedi s for at least your next car payment! Restaurants are passable, but if you have a bottle of Vodka rolled into your undies, the time is NICE! It is the only place on earth, in my experience, that people (children and adults) run around in either: 1. pajamas or 2. bathing suits (oh, and shouldn't). She laughed and laughed. Obviously, she wasn't taking notes and taking heed. Until, I moved in for the Kill...
WHEN THERE IS A PULSE RISING IN THE WATER PARK, WHEN CHILDREN ARE SHRIEKING AND GATHERING IN ONE SPOT, WHEN THE WOLF IS HOWLING AND YOU CAN JUST FEEL THE TENSION MOUNTING...TAKE COVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There will be an emormous (in Kalahari, an elephant, in CoCo Key, a parrot & bucket) container of WATER that will empty itself every 20-30 minutes and drench EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING within a 10-15 foot radius. If she is as "with it" as I guessed that she was as grandparents go, she will be wearing one of the dry clean only coverups like mine and just not leave the water facility with a big smile! What about the hair? What about the mascara!
Do we love the time with our Grandchildren? Of course and I wouldn't have it any other way than to watch a "show" and then have snowfall in the lobby and try to catch it with my tongue with the Trio! Do I enjoy singing carols with the Carolers and my Grandchildren? Of course! Visiting with Mr. & Mrs. Claus, listening to Ruldolph read a story before the Snow falls...brings tears to the eyes (well, maybe not...mascara maintainence you know). But, I still believe, I do believe in Santa, in Children, in the Season!
BUT GRANDPARENTS EVERYWHERE...STAY AWAY FROM THOSE SNEAKY WATER DUMPINGS...LOOK UP BEFORE YOU SELECT THE LOUNGE FROM WHICH YOU WILL TAKE PICTURES, WATCH STUFF AND WAVE...BECAUSE, YOU COULD JUST DROWN IN YOUR GOLDEN YEARS AND THEY BECOME SOGGY YEARS!!!
Laura Macy Author & Actress
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
You Do Realize It's December, Don't You?
I have been trying so very hard to control my brain, my tongue, my fingers flying on the keys of this keyboard. But, NO MORE NICE GUY/GAL...
Does the general public school teacher, here in Centerville, Ohio know that it is December? Does the public school system know that there are Christians out the wazoo in the Mdwest? I find this an interesting question, because, I know of one Jewish Public School Teacher who has told her class that there would be no take home homework until AFTER NEW YEAR, because there is so much going on! I know that Church and State are different entities. There are snappy private schools who are so happy to rake in our tuition and assure parents that they are the end all of whatever whosoever persuasion happens to be.
BUT
Come on, let's be realistic. I understand our shapes, our math, our spelling and reading homework in the first grade. I, personally, brag that I did earn a scholarship to William Paterson University of New Jersey because I did all of that wretched homework and papers, etc and didn't waste too much time Rocking Around The Christmas Tree (I will fill you in on the West Point Cadet at the time in another blog...remind me) We have Eight Days of the Festival of Light beginning on the 20th. I KNOW THERE IS A SEPERATION OF CHURCH AND STATE! However, some religions consider not just the religious implications of Christmas, but even celebrate Christmas as a National Holiday.
So, why, oh why would a teacher decide on December 2 and again on December 9 to hold "Old Fashioned Day"? Children are to dress up in period costume of, oh, let's say, 1890! Really? Let's see, we are weeks from Christmas and we are doing all sorts of snappy homework, bringing in this and that for those who are not as blessed as we are. We are shopping, baking, creating those "homemade from the heart" gifty gifts. So, now we are to develop the ability to sew or the mega bucks to hire someone to sew an "old fashioned school outfit" because, really, when you signed your teaching contracts you were to create "spriit days" to throw us off the scent of getting anything done for Christmas? Get real. And then, if the two Fridays were not bad enough...the Wednesday, in between, was, wait for it...wait for it...THE SIXTIES!!! The directions in the handy flyer that came home were to find your fringed vest, psychodelic shirts and pants, and to join the fun.!
Now, let me help you out here... it is 2011. I wore my "hippie garb", many lifetimes ago...Okay, I won't argue with you teachers of the children, but I guess I just haven't picked up my "love in" clothes from the cleaners yet!
Why can't we do all of this "Back to the Back" in January when we have maybe, less to do? My "Hippie" clothes and my 1890"s garb are not so readily available when I am frantic to within two weeks be SANTA complete with lableing and wrapping before hiding the enormous stacks of consumer glee? Remember, the last day of school before January 3 is December 16! On the 16th we come in with parties, etc.
Why not decide to get all fired up about "the good old days" when we have nothing else going on? January is a nice month to get involved with insanity. But, please USE YOUR HEADS!!! OLD FASHIONED DAYS? THE 60'S? Two weeks before Christmas, I want to use my JoAnn's coupons for fabric to make Mom's Robe, not recreate her dress that she wore to school! Two weeks, I want to go to the Hobby Lobby with my coupons to gather what might make a cool swing jacket for Mom rather than tie-dye something stupid to go to the Elementary School "love-In"
If you, public schools in Centerville, are attempting to test our devotion to our children even though we help with homework, feed, house, counsel, clothe, finance activites to recreate "days gone by" for Spirit Days, I believe an investigation followed by recommendations are in order!
IT'S DECEMBER...IT'S CHRISTMAS...IT IS A TIME FOR FAMILY, FOR SHARING...not for some overwhelmed individual, instead of stringing popcorn AFTER HOMEWORK, run to create clothing from 100 years ago. It is not a time to find our "way out" clothes...which by the way...grandparents have NOT PARENTS at this date. Are you kidding me? Get real!!!
In JANUARY, we have not much to do, nor do we have a whole lot to which we can look forward...This is nonsense in DECEMBER!!!
Does the general public school teacher, here in Centerville, Ohio know that it is December? Does the public school system know that there are Christians out the wazoo in the Mdwest? I find this an interesting question, because, I know of one Jewish Public School Teacher who has told her class that there would be no take home homework until AFTER NEW YEAR, because there is so much going on! I know that Church and State are different entities. There are snappy private schools who are so happy to rake in our tuition and assure parents that they are the end all of whatever whosoever persuasion happens to be.
BUT
Come on, let's be realistic. I understand our shapes, our math, our spelling and reading homework in the first grade. I, personally, brag that I did earn a scholarship to William Paterson University of New Jersey because I did all of that wretched homework and papers, etc and didn't waste too much time Rocking Around The Christmas Tree (I will fill you in on the West Point Cadet at the time in another blog...remind me) We have Eight Days of the Festival of Light beginning on the 20th. I KNOW THERE IS A SEPERATION OF CHURCH AND STATE! However, some religions consider not just the religious implications of Christmas, but even celebrate Christmas as a National Holiday.
So, why, oh why would a teacher decide on December 2 and again on December 9 to hold "Old Fashioned Day"? Children are to dress up in period costume of, oh, let's say, 1890! Really? Let's see, we are weeks from Christmas and we are doing all sorts of snappy homework, bringing in this and that for those who are not as blessed as we are. We are shopping, baking, creating those "homemade from the heart" gifty gifts. So, now we are to develop the ability to sew or the mega bucks to hire someone to sew an "old fashioned school outfit" because, really, when you signed your teaching contracts you were to create "spriit days" to throw us off the scent of getting anything done for Christmas? Get real. And then, if the two Fridays were not bad enough...the Wednesday, in between, was, wait for it...wait for it...THE SIXTIES!!! The directions in the handy flyer that came home were to find your fringed vest, psychodelic shirts and pants, and to join the fun.!
Now, let me help you out here... it is 2011. I wore my "hippie garb", many lifetimes ago...Okay, I won't argue with you teachers of the children, but I guess I just haven't picked up my "love in" clothes from the cleaners yet!
Why can't we do all of this "Back to the Back" in January when we have maybe, less to do? My "Hippie" clothes and my 1890"s garb are not so readily available when I am frantic to within two weeks be SANTA complete with lableing and wrapping before hiding the enormous stacks of consumer glee? Remember, the last day of school before January 3 is December 16! On the 16th we come in with parties, etc.
Why not decide to get all fired up about "the good old days" when we have nothing else going on? January is a nice month to get involved with insanity. But, please USE YOUR HEADS!!! OLD FASHIONED DAYS? THE 60'S? Two weeks before Christmas, I want to use my JoAnn's coupons for fabric to make Mom's Robe, not recreate her dress that she wore to school! Two weeks, I want to go to the Hobby Lobby with my coupons to gather what might make a cool swing jacket for Mom rather than tie-dye something stupid to go to the Elementary School "love-In"
If you, public schools in Centerville, are attempting to test our devotion to our children even though we help with homework, feed, house, counsel, clothe, finance activites to recreate "days gone by" for Spirit Days, I believe an investigation followed by recommendations are in order!
IT'S DECEMBER...IT'S CHRISTMAS...IT IS A TIME FOR FAMILY, FOR SHARING...not for some overwhelmed individual, instead of stringing popcorn AFTER HOMEWORK, run to create clothing from 100 years ago. It is not a time to find our "way out" clothes...which by the way...grandparents have NOT PARENTS at this date. Are you kidding me? Get real!!!
In JANUARY, we have not much to do, nor do we have a whole lot to which we can look forward...This is nonsense in DECEMBER!!!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Runaway Harpy Please Come Back!!!
Tanner, four years old, came bouncing out of "Lunch Bunch" (Monday) at his Pre-School with not only his slicker, rain boots, a back pack, a lunch box but also a tote bag containing a six inch stuffed toy penguin...HARPY! Within the confines of the tote also was a notebook. A "Journal" if you will. Tanner was to care for Harpy until he returned to school on Wednesday morning. Tanner was thrilled to have such responsibility. I am a veteran of responsibility and really, it isn't all that, but, hey, he's 4!
Harpy and Tanner went to the Barber Shop. Harpy and Tanner went to the Library to find a book with Harpy's relatives and closest friends in it. Harpy and Tanner returned home to "rest" before the afternoon of "activities" began with Todd (8) and Tess (7). We wrote in the Journal. That was the penance that parents, grandparents, guardians must suffer for this honor. Four year olds can't really write and really don't know what they have done in the past five minutes, never mind two hours.
To regress...Tanner's teacher is attractive, young, hip, smart, personality plus, mother of active children, herself. I think that she just might be suffering from...well, REALLY?
Tess had to gather up her ballet shoes, ballet bag, change, oh, where did the "bun cover' go this week? Todd needed his tennis raquet - "No not that one, the new one! Meme! The other sneakers! How can I run with these?" Are you getting the scenario? We are not even up to basket ball practice yet! My daughter and I collided racing for the door with busy children heading for different life enhancing afternoons. Tanner grabbed the "Harpy" tote and one shoe! Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and short child and as I realized that I had both boys, two tennis racquets, my head full of "Todd's new strategy" and "Harpy". "Tanner, please leave Harpy home!" "Meme! I can take care of Harpy, Mrs. Ely said I have to take care of him! I'm big enough!"
The three greatest myths/lies in the United States are: 1. The Check is in the mail. 2. Really, you can tell me anything! and...wait for it...3. I can do it! I'm big enough!
Oh, I think that you know where this leads...
We knocked down anyone in our path to get into the Tennis Club... Tennis Todd - delivered. Tess was on her way to the Ballet Studio...
"Tanner, let's run into the store, I only need a thing or two."
"C'mon Harpy, we have to go shopping!" Tanner grabbed the tote, maybe Harpy?
"No, Tanner, please leave him in the car! The store is busy, I don't want to make this my next career move, just leave him in the car!"
"Meme! I can take care of Harpy! Mrs. Ely said...."
We saw some people that we know. I chatted here and there. As we left the store...you guessed it...
"Meme, where's Harpy?" Tanner is really a rocket scientist in the disguise of a four year old. He has the ability to launch me into the wild blue yonder, beyond the Milky Way and have you ever seen me wave from the Aurora Borealis? Yes, readers, I was livid, furious, rushed to pick up Todd, dropping my packages, and just not singing, "What a Wonderful World!"
We retraced our steps, we recruited a cute young employee who must have suffered through a few episodes of a wired grandmother, we put the management on alert and left without Harpy.
The next best thing...remember, I am shallow, an egomaniac, the works. We have two variety stores that boast that they are open 24 hours. After the children and their Mom went home, I recruited a friend, who by the way would rather not be my friend at this point, to drive me in a storm (nothing's simple) and pull up to the two stores while I searched for Harpy II. Walmart let me down. Meijer had a three foot Emperor Penguin. I couldn't even spin that Harpy ate sooooo much that he grew in two days.
Think about our children's lives. Our week is NUTS... besides school, homework, activities (Dance, Acting, Cheerleading, Tennis, BasketBall...that's just now...in Spring we add golf and baseball), the equipment, shoes, clothes for the things that enrich us. Pets to care for - talk about responsibility. We have religious education and the materials/assignments required. Am I missing the point of a toy and journal? Tanner has carried around Woody (from Toy Story) for two years, you know. Never lost, but there's a connection. If he can remember where he left his crocs, we are doing well. Actually, a few blogs back, Tiffany and I nearly forgot Tanner!
Sometimes, just sometimes, I believe that educators don't realize that on paper ideas look fantastic, valuable. But, reality is that some of us with three children with at least two-three commitments each (not to mention religion) are penalized over and over with assignments that are above children's heads. We are "collecting" , fund raising, book fairing, volunteering, shhhing at Mass, enriching until we are in a furious stupor!
If you see 'Harpy", please tell him that Tanner misses him and is sorry that he lost track of him. Please tell Harpy that Meme (remember, readers...that's pronounced may-may) is sorry that she just wasn't on top of her game. Whoever has Harpy now, take good care of him. He, according to the journal, is well traveled. He has been to the Zoo, to the Barber Shop and the Library. If Harpy gets too homesick, please send him back to the Epiphany Lutheran Pre-School!
Harpy and Tanner went to the Barber Shop. Harpy and Tanner went to the Library to find a book with Harpy's relatives and closest friends in it. Harpy and Tanner returned home to "rest" before the afternoon of "activities" began with Todd (8) and Tess (7). We wrote in the Journal. That was the penance that parents, grandparents, guardians must suffer for this honor. Four year olds can't really write and really don't know what they have done in the past five minutes, never mind two hours.
To regress...Tanner's teacher is attractive, young, hip, smart, personality plus, mother of active children, herself. I think that she just might be suffering from...well, REALLY?
Tess had to gather up her ballet shoes, ballet bag, change, oh, where did the "bun cover' go this week? Todd needed his tennis raquet - "No not that one, the new one! Meme! The other sneakers! How can I run with these?" Are you getting the scenario? We are not even up to basket ball practice yet! My daughter and I collided racing for the door with busy children heading for different life enhancing afternoons. Tanner grabbed the "Harpy" tote and one shoe! Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and short child and as I realized that I had both boys, two tennis racquets, my head full of "Todd's new strategy" and "Harpy". "Tanner, please leave Harpy home!" "Meme! I can take care of Harpy, Mrs. Ely said I have to take care of him! I'm big enough!"
The three greatest myths/lies in the United States are: 1. The Check is in the mail. 2. Really, you can tell me anything! and...wait for it...3. I can do it! I'm big enough!
Oh, I think that you know where this leads...
We knocked down anyone in our path to get into the Tennis Club... Tennis Todd - delivered. Tess was on her way to the Ballet Studio...
"Tanner, let's run into the store, I only need a thing or two."
"C'mon Harpy, we have to go shopping!" Tanner grabbed the tote, maybe Harpy?
"No, Tanner, please leave him in the car! The store is busy, I don't want to make this my next career move, just leave him in the car!"
"Meme! I can take care of Harpy! Mrs. Ely said...."
We saw some people that we know. I chatted here and there. As we left the store...you guessed it...
"Meme, where's Harpy?" Tanner is really a rocket scientist in the disguise of a four year old. He has the ability to launch me into the wild blue yonder, beyond the Milky Way and have you ever seen me wave from the Aurora Borealis? Yes, readers, I was livid, furious, rushed to pick up Todd, dropping my packages, and just not singing, "What a Wonderful World!"
We retraced our steps, we recruited a cute young employee who must have suffered through a few episodes of a wired grandmother, we put the management on alert and left without Harpy.
The next best thing...remember, I am shallow, an egomaniac, the works. We have two variety stores that boast that they are open 24 hours. After the children and their Mom went home, I recruited a friend, who by the way would rather not be my friend at this point, to drive me in a storm (nothing's simple) and pull up to the two stores while I searched for Harpy II. Walmart let me down. Meijer had a three foot Emperor Penguin. I couldn't even spin that Harpy ate sooooo much that he grew in two days.
Think about our children's lives. Our week is NUTS... besides school, homework, activities (Dance, Acting, Cheerleading, Tennis, BasketBall...that's just now...in Spring we add golf and baseball), the equipment, shoes, clothes for the things that enrich us. Pets to care for - talk about responsibility. We have religious education and the materials/assignments required. Am I missing the point of a toy and journal? Tanner has carried around Woody (from Toy Story) for two years, you know. Never lost, but there's a connection. If he can remember where he left his crocs, we are doing well. Actually, a few blogs back, Tiffany and I nearly forgot Tanner!
Sometimes, just sometimes, I believe that educators don't realize that on paper ideas look fantastic, valuable. But, reality is that some of us with three children with at least two-three commitments each (not to mention religion) are penalized over and over with assignments that are above children's heads. We are "collecting" , fund raising, book fairing, volunteering, shhhing at Mass, enriching until we are in a furious stupor!
If you see 'Harpy", please tell him that Tanner misses him and is sorry that he lost track of him. Please tell Harpy that Meme (remember, readers...that's pronounced may-may) is sorry that she just wasn't on top of her game. Whoever has Harpy now, take good care of him. He, according to the journal, is well traveled. He has been to the Zoo, to the Barber Shop and the Library. If Harpy gets too homesick, please send him back to the Epiphany Lutheran Pre-School!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Veterans' Day and Todd
Unless you live under Plymouth Rock and have no access to civilization whatsoever, you are well aware that today is Veterans' Day! My Dad is a World War II Veteran. He is alive and well dancing on the Wayne Tennis Courts as I type.
My eight year old Grandson, Todd, invited me to attend the Veterans' Day Program at his Elementary School. The event was beautifully done! Veterans, from each branch of the military were asked to stand, introduced themselves and state their years of service. A Koren Veteran, actually had tears and thanked us for thanking the Veterans. After each branch was introduced, the children sang the appropriate song for that particular branch. We all know the words.
At the end, Todd stood by me, I had on my VFW Ladies Auxiliary Jacket on, by the way (Thank you Dad). The entire assembly sang Lee Greenwood's GOD BLESS THE USA together. We all held hands and the chorus swelled to the heavens where those who did not survive could hear our praise!
I made an appearance in Todd's classroom and distributed "Flag Etiquette" pamphlets and took Todd home early. (The Perk of having an involved adult).
Later, Todd and I snuggled and went through his Navy books and discussed the military in the depth through which an eight year old can trudge. I didn't encourage signing that blank check with his life, we just talked.
Finally, "Meme" (that's may-may), Todd said with his blue eyes pensive and his index finger thinking in the air, "Great-Grandpa in New Jersey was in the Army, right?" "Yes, Todd, he was in World War II." "Hmm, and Papa Bruce was a Marine?" asked Todd. "Yes, but that was Viet Nam". "Oh, and Meme, Rags (Ron) was in the war too?" "Yes, Todd, he was in the Army in Viet Nam".
"You know, Meme, Grandpa, Bruce and Rags are really good soldiers!" exclaimed Todd.
"I guess, Todd, but why do you say that?"
"Because Meme! They are all alive after the wars! They did a good job!"
The wisdom of an eight year old. Like many of you out there, they were brave, good and survived! You enable us to discuss, praise, disagree with precious freedom!
So, I ask, THANK A VETERAN! Thank God for those who have survived to sing " God Bless The USA". Ask God to protect those who are serving as I type and enable them to come home, hold the hand of a loved one and join the chorus...soon!
My eight year old Grandson, Todd, invited me to attend the Veterans' Day Program at his Elementary School. The event was beautifully done! Veterans, from each branch of the military were asked to stand, introduced themselves and state their years of service. A Koren Veteran, actually had tears and thanked us for thanking the Veterans. After each branch was introduced, the children sang the appropriate song for that particular branch. We all know the words.
At the end, Todd stood by me, I had on my VFW Ladies Auxiliary Jacket on, by the way (Thank you Dad). The entire assembly sang Lee Greenwood's GOD BLESS THE USA together. We all held hands and the chorus swelled to the heavens where those who did not survive could hear our praise!
I made an appearance in Todd's classroom and distributed "Flag Etiquette" pamphlets and took Todd home early. (The Perk of having an involved adult).
Later, Todd and I snuggled and went through his Navy books and discussed the military in the depth through which an eight year old can trudge. I didn't encourage signing that blank check with his life, we just talked.
Finally, "Meme" (that's may-may), Todd said with his blue eyes pensive and his index finger thinking in the air, "Great-Grandpa in New Jersey was in the Army, right?" "Yes, Todd, he was in World War II." "Hmm, and Papa Bruce was a Marine?" asked Todd. "Yes, but that was Viet Nam". "Oh, and Meme, Rags (Ron) was in the war too?" "Yes, Todd, he was in the Army in Viet Nam".
"You know, Meme, Grandpa, Bruce and Rags are really good soldiers!" exclaimed Todd.
"I guess, Todd, but why do you say that?"
"Because Meme! They are all alive after the wars! They did a good job!"
The wisdom of an eight year old. Like many of you out there, they were brave, good and survived! You enable us to discuss, praise, disagree with precious freedom!
So, I ask, THANK A VETERAN! Thank God for those who have survived to sing " God Bless The USA". Ask God to protect those who are serving as I type and enable them to come home, hold the hand of a loved one and join the chorus...soon!
Saturday, November 5, 2011
We Can All Sleep Safely Tonight!
I was invited to Des Moines, Iowa. I made a quick twenty-four hour trip between Tess' actual Seventh Birthday (November 3) family dinner and her little girl Ballet party (November 5). Early in the afternoon of November 4, I hustled to the Dayton International (sure it is) Airport to catch a quick flight to Iowa. Big doings in Iowa, you know. The Reagan Dinner, I even did a little radio chat.
Back to the TSA and ME. I carefully had packed a carry-on with regulation 3 ounce or less goos and spillables. I always carry a book (actually one for each day) and embroidery. In my embroidery, there was nestled a sewing scissor. Always have one, always will. Never an issue, ever. Wedged between 3 oz. bottles of beauty, I had my nifty Lady Schick. Always carry it (disposable, one a day), always will. I danced through the "full body scanner" like one of "The Four Tops". All of a sudden, I thought that I was caught in a good old fashioned air-raid! A swat team of uniforms and badges swooped down on me as if I had been speaking fluent Terrorist Threat Lingo! The Brigadeer General of Homeland Security, or so Ms. Nasty Pants acted, firmly stated, "Hey, we gotta pat ya down! I gonna do a full body, invasive search a ya'll!" I said, "There is a chance that I'll miss my plane and what on earth for?" "Hey, hon, ya'll got on all them shiny sequins an' all! That make the maching go nuts!' "Well", I replied, "if you know that my sequins on my shirt are to blame, and I've been through the scanner, what will a pat down do?" "Thin Ah kin check ta see if ya got any more!" Ms. Nasty Pants called for "a little help hea". I then took my chances and said, "This makes a lot of sense. Let's put me on the Italian, No Fly List because of bling. The Taliban, I realize isn't known for sequins and beads...so, they can rig themselves to explode and threaten us, while we make sure that these sequins don't deflect signals from outter space and endanger our National Security. Is this in a procedure book to be wary of animal print sprinkled with sequins?" Miss Nasty Pants was told by her superior mauler forget the matter and get back to work. I thanked the obviously more sensible of the two and managed to catch the last call for boarding my flight.
Travelers know how this is...when you depart from somewhere, eventually, you have to return. That would have been the next morning...TSA agents were pleasant enough at O-Dark:30 in the morning. Again, my bag of embroidery whizzed through the x-ray scanner. I had no razor, used it, disposed of the disposeable. And then, the carry-on suitcase did the one glide forward and two glides back on the scanner's belt. Oh nuts! Now what? "Mam", said Sunbonnet Sue (She really should have been milking cows and shucking corn. The whole official uniform thing wasn't working for her pure ivory complexion and blue as a clear lake eyes.) "Mam, (that hateful word again), I have to ask you a few questions!" I realized the questions were not of the what do I like for breakfast nature, or for whom did I want to vote. "Really, what's the matter?" I inquired. "I have to search your suitcase. There apparently is a heavy, sharp edged object in there. Before I look, do you want to tell me what I'm looking for?" Really, I mean, REALLY? The scissor was yawning waiting for me to go to the gate. I now had to create a "confession" about what? I couldn't fathom just what was irritating her enough to irritate me! Didn't she like my cocktail dress? Was the satin coat abrasive? WHAT, WHAT, WHAT???
She tore open the suitcase, tossed around my belongings and as if she ripped the heart out of Julius Ceasar or someone of that stature, she proudly exclaimed, " Ah-ha! I've found it!"
I have, in the past few weeks, stirred quite a bit of sympathy for myself concerning THE VILLAGER. As you might recall, I have a convoy of bulldozers ready to activate itself. I was given a heavy, die cast, model, Catepiller...BULLDOZER when I arrived in Des Moines!
I guess that the TSA decided that all 5'2", 112 pounds of Italian "Organza", Anne Klien II and Estee Lauder could take down an "AirBus" with a...wait for it...4 inch by 3 inch by 2 1/2 inch die cast Bulldozer. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!
I explained to Rebecca of SunnyBrook Farm with a badge the entire story of my book, my blog, my Apartment Complex, the Bulldozer parade that is to be launched. Instead of calling a mental institution, she took a book mark (my son designed them), said it was a pleasure to talk, and be safe!
So, that is my story of a quick 24 hour trip to Des Moines, Iowa. The Bulldozer is on a table in my living room warming its engine!!!
BEWARE!!!
On the other hand, I shout out to Renee! The most good natured, naturally entertaining flight attendant in United Airlines. I experienced a flight home with her. She helped all of the previous craziness go away!
Back to the TSA and ME. I carefully had packed a carry-on with regulation 3 ounce or less goos and spillables. I always carry a book (actually one for each day) and embroidery. In my embroidery, there was nestled a sewing scissor. Always have one, always will. Never an issue, ever. Wedged between 3 oz. bottles of beauty, I had my nifty Lady Schick. Always carry it (disposable, one a day), always will. I danced through the "full body scanner" like one of "The Four Tops". All of a sudden, I thought that I was caught in a good old fashioned air-raid! A swat team of uniforms and badges swooped down on me as if I had been speaking fluent Terrorist Threat Lingo! The Brigadeer General of Homeland Security, or so Ms. Nasty Pants acted, firmly stated, "Hey, we gotta pat ya down! I gonna do a full body, invasive search a ya'll!" I said, "There is a chance that I'll miss my plane and what on earth for?" "Hey, hon, ya'll got on all them shiny sequins an' all! That make the maching go nuts!' "Well", I replied, "if you know that my sequins on my shirt are to blame, and I've been through the scanner, what will a pat down do?" "Thin Ah kin check ta see if ya got any more!" Ms. Nasty Pants called for "a little help hea". I then took my chances and said, "This makes a lot of sense. Let's put me on the Italian, No Fly List because of bling. The Taliban, I realize isn't known for sequins and beads...so, they can rig themselves to explode and threaten us, while we make sure that these sequins don't deflect signals from outter space and endanger our National Security. Is this in a procedure book to be wary of animal print sprinkled with sequins?" Miss Nasty Pants was told by her superior mauler forget the matter and get back to work. I thanked the obviously more sensible of the two and managed to catch the last call for boarding my flight.
Travelers know how this is...when you depart from somewhere, eventually, you have to return. That would have been the next morning...TSA agents were pleasant enough at O-Dark:30 in the morning. Again, my bag of embroidery whizzed through the x-ray scanner. I had no razor, used it, disposed of the disposeable. And then, the carry-on suitcase did the one glide forward and two glides back on the scanner's belt. Oh nuts! Now what? "Mam", said Sunbonnet Sue (She really should have been milking cows and shucking corn. The whole official uniform thing wasn't working for her pure ivory complexion and blue as a clear lake eyes.) "Mam, (that hateful word again), I have to ask you a few questions!" I realized the questions were not of the what do I like for breakfast nature, or for whom did I want to vote. "Really, what's the matter?" I inquired. "I have to search your suitcase. There apparently is a heavy, sharp edged object in there. Before I look, do you want to tell me what I'm looking for?" Really, I mean, REALLY? The scissor was yawning waiting for me to go to the gate. I now had to create a "confession" about what? I couldn't fathom just what was irritating her enough to irritate me! Didn't she like my cocktail dress? Was the satin coat abrasive? WHAT, WHAT, WHAT???
She tore open the suitcase, tossed around my belongings and as if she ripped the heart out of Julius Ceasar or someone of that stature, she proudly exclaimed, " Ah-ha! I've found it!"
I have, in the past few weeks, stirred quite a bit of sympathy for myself concerning THE VILLAGER. As you might recall, I have a convoy of bulldozers ready to activate itself. I was given a heavy, die cast, model, Catepiller...BULLDOZER when I arrived in Des Moines!
I guess that the TSA decided that all 5'2", 112 pounds of Italian "Organza", Anne Klien II and Estee Lauder could take down an "AirBus" with a...wait for it...4 inch by 3 inch by 2 1/2 inch die cast Bulldozer. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!
I explained to Rebecca of SunnyBrook Farm with a badge the entire story of my book, my blog, my Apartment Complex, the Bulldozer parade that is to be launched. Instead of calling a mental institution, she took a book mark (my son designed them), said it was a pleasure to talk, and be safe!
So, that is my story of a quick 24 hour trip to Des Moines, Iowa. The Bulldozer is on a table in my living room warming its engine!!!
BEWARE!!!
On the other hand, I shout out to Renee! The most good natured, naturally entertaining flight attendant in United Airlines. I experienced a flight home with her. She helped all of the previous craziness go away!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Danville, Illinois - USA
Recently, I visited Danville, Illinois! I had never been there. PROJECT REUNION - IT'S ALL ABOUT ME! is responsible for new places and people! Danville is the home to THE VERMILION COUNTY WAR MUSEUM. There are are more than 5,000 exhibits ranging from the Revolutionary War to Iraqi Freedom. There are 4,000 books, hundreds of uniforms from all branches of the military and all war. I will now share the words of Harry Johnson, a World War II Veteran and Curator/Guide of the Museum. Mr. Johnson wrote:
" NO GLORY
The Museum is not here to glorify or perpetuate war. Children have played war for centuries, however, when you are lying in a foxhole in the rain or show, or feel the burning sand of the desert, or the heat and humidity of the jungle, the glory of war is soon gone. When you see tracer bullets coming toward your aircraft, witness a torpedo headed for your ship or feel the concussion of depth charges in a submarine, it is a terrifying experience. Prisoners of war subjected to the inhumanities of captivity with little to eat, by an enemy with very little to eat for their own people, know there is no glory to war.
God meant mankind to live in peace and harmony. If you should slap my face, I could live with that, however, if you cause harm to my younger sibling, I will, to the best of my ability, be all over you like a wet shirt.
War occurs when some selfish individual like Adolf Hitler or Saddam Hussein want more than their share and exercise their dictatorial powers to wage war on their neighbors. At this time, a choice must be made, roll over and succumb to the tyrant's wishes, or stand and fight, not for yours alone, but for country and all himanity.
The War Museum is here to honor the sarcrifices made by so many men and women over the years. THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES, GAVE THEIR ALL FOR US THE LIVING. WE SALUTE THEM! If you served your country in war we SALUTE YOU! If in peace time, we do need a strong defensive Armed Forces, always, WE SALUTE YOU! If you weren't an active participant, you undoubtedly had a mother, father, sister or brother, husband or wife, aunt or uncle, or some other ancestor who did, WE SALUTE YOU FOR THEM!
PLESE HONOR THE AURA AND WONDERMENT OF THE MUSEUM AS YOU VIEW THE EXHIBITS, REALIZING THAT YOU HAVE SEEN A LOT OF HISTORY!"
Harry Johnson, Vermilion County War Museum Society
Mr. Johnson proudly informed, entertained, intrigued as he ushered his audience through various exhibits. I occasionally would wander on my own and listen to the spirit of America, there, pulsating with peaceful strength. I was gripped by the hush of breath of heros and martyrs. As I fingered uniforms, I gently nudged the essence of our Freedom. I was humbled by the magnitude of loss. I stood in a shrine of men and women who gave me the ability/freedom to sit and type my selfish thoughts, to select a fantastic restaurant for dinner, to pop into any establishment in the country and chat with free merchants or volunteers, buy a new phone with no censor, watch "I Love Lucy" or eat pizza all night long, if I so desire. The men and women, who unselfishly perished in Military campaigns extended the freedom to learn and work to immigrants, such as my Italian Grandparents. Soldiers, Prisoners of War, those Missing In Action, Veterans and casualties all strengthened the Statue of Liberty's arms to embrace those seeking life and liberty.
Thank you, Mr. Johnson for your extreme knowledge, participation and enthusiasm. I believe that you are the backbone of The Vermilion County War Museum Society.
Jackie, the President of the Ladies' Auxiliary of the Danville VFW was gracious and welcoming. I bragged (not recommended in the future) that I am the Secretary of a Post in Kettering, Ohio that celebrated it's 50th Anniversary on October 14. Jackie, quietly informed me that by year end, her post is celebrating its 80th! Yes, readers, I am a smartie aleck. She gave a tour of the establishment, told of some of the events, procedures and basically we "talked shop". Thank you!
Danville is historic, friendly. My impression is that there are no strangers and that there are friendly faces willing to share bits of themselves with a visitorr.
Mr. Johnson, Jackie thank you for your hospitality, sincerity and generosity!
" NO GLORY
The Museum is not here to glorify or perpetuate war. Children have played war for centuries, however, when you are lying in a foxhole in the rain or show, or feel the burning sand of the desert, or the heat and humidity of the jungle, the glory of war is soon gone. When you see tracer bullets coming toward your aircraft, witness a torpedo headed for your ship or feel the concussion of depth charges in a submarine, it is a terrifying experience. Prisoners of war subjected to the inhumanities of captivity with little to eat, by an enemy with very little to eat for their own people, know there is no glory to war.
God meant mankind to live in peace and harmony. If you should slap my face, I could live with that, however, if you cause harm to my younger sibling, I will, to the best of my ability, be all over you like a wet shirt.
War occurs when some selfish individual like Adolf Hitler or Saddam Hussein want more than their share and exercise their dictatorial powers to wage war on their neighbors. At this time, a choice must be made, roll over and succumb to the tyrant's wishes, or stand and fight, not for yours alone, but for country and all himanity.
The War Museum is here to honor the sarcrifices made by so many men and women over the years. THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES, GAVE THEIR ALL FOR US THE LIVING. WE SALUTE THEM! If you served your country in war we SALUTE YOU! If in peace time, we do need a strong defensive Armed Forces, always, WE SALUTE YOU! If you weren't an active participant, you undoubtedly had a mother, father, sister or brother, husband or wife, aunt or uncle, or some other ancestor who did, WE SALUTE YOU FOR THEM!
PLESE HONOR THE AURA AND WONDERMENT OF THE MUSEUM AS YOU VIEW THE EXHIBITS, REALIZING THAT YOU HAVE SEEN A LOT OF HISTORY!"
Harry Johnson, Vermilion County War Museum Society
Mr. Johnson proudly informed, entertained, intrigued as he ushered his audience through various exhibits. I occasionally would wander on my own and listen to the spirit of America, there, pulsating with peaceful strength. I was gripped by the hush of breath of heros and martyrs. As I fingered uniforms, I gently nudged the essence of our Freedom. I was humbled by the magnitude of loss. I stood in a shrine of men and women who gave me the ability/freedom to sit and type my selfish thoughts, to select a fantastic restaurant for dinner, to pop into any establishment in the country and chat with free merchants or volunteers, buy a new phone with no censor, watch "I Love Lucy" or eat pizza all night long, if I so desire. The men and women, who unselfishly perished in Military campaigns extended the freedom to learn and work to immigrants, such as my Italian Grandparents. Soldiers, Prisoners of War, those Missing In Action, Veterans and casualties all strengthened the Statue of Liberty's arms to embrace those seeking life and liberty.
Thank you, Mr. Johnson for your extreme knowledge, participation and enthusiasm. I believe that you are the backbone of The Vermilion County War Museum Society.
Jackie, the President of the Ladies' Auxiliary of the Danville VFW was gracious and welcoming. I bragged (not recommended in the future) that I am the Secretary of a Post in Kettering, Ohio that celebrated it's 50th Anniversary on October 14. Jackie, quietly informed me that by year end, her post is celebrating its 80th! Yes, readers, I am a smartie aleck. She gave a tour of the establishment, told of some of the events, procedures and basically we "talked shop". Thank you!
Danville is historic, friendly. My impression is that there are no strangers and that there are friendly faces willing to share bits of themselves with a visitorr.
Mr. Johnson, Jackie thank you for your hospitality, sincerity and generosity!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
REALLY? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I love my apartment. It is large. I have a deck and I even stashed a full sized electric grill on it with plenty of room for a table, four chairs, an antique milk can. Nice. I have a large living room with a wood burning fireplace. True, it's done in Vintage Lucy and RomperRoom (grandchildren's three rocking chairs, three "chests", you know the drill). I have a good sized dining room, eat in kitchen with a dishwasher that Columbus brought over here on the Santa Maria. My two bedrooms are spacious and I can soak or shower in either of my two full bathrooms. The swimming pool is open from Memorial Day through Labor Day. There is a gym, no tennis court (black mark in my book). You would think that when I received on Monday, a notice stuck in my door: REWARD TO PICK YOUR NEIGHBOR! $300 CASH IN YOUR POCKET! HAVE A FRIEND MOVE IN TO THE VILLAGER AND YOU BOTH WILL WIN AT THE VILLAGER LUXURY COMMUNITY!!! I would have jumped on it...
The next day, I received a notice...PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF YOUR NEIGHBORS. IT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO OUR ATTENTION THAT THERE WERE SCREAMING CHILDREN HEARD LAST NIGHT, blah, blah, blah. Oh, really? Well, my grandchildren were not there that day, night, the day before, the night before, the day after, the night after and were not there when the notice was cowardly stuck in the door...Hey Villager, are you nuts? We are complaining about ME? I think not!
Has anyone heard the man downstairs' cat howling all night with a friend beneath my window? Now, that is the sound of crying, screaming children. Listen sometime! How about the individual who has the dog that howls all night at the moon, stars and any passing emergency vehicle that screams past the complex? One of my personal favorites is the man who at four in the morning was shouting at his partner because he caught her in a compromising situation with another gentleman! The residents of The Villager heard that evening that she just isn't much for keeping her clothes on while doing the "oh yeahs" between the sheets...not his. A close second is the nasty man who at midnight kept yelling at children who were crying to "shut up" because he was on the phone. I think that my fellow Villagers would agree that he really didn't need the phone. Whoever was on the receiving end really only had to lean out of his/her window, even as far as China. Biker Dude doesn't really have show off all of his VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM at two in the morning and again at six that same morning, does he? I know that motorcycles are loud...but, he only kicks it into HI when the two previously mentioned men are out cold.
Who do I dislike enough to try to enlist as a "neighbor" in order that I collect the $300 prize? Let's see. The Playground has been dismantled and hauled away. The Club House is not available for residents to use with or without a fee because it has been redecorated and "well, you know" is what I was told. Hmmmm. Yep, that'll make someone feel really unwanted! The nut downstairs left me a pile of cigarette butts at my door that he figured I threw off of my deck...I DON'T SMOKE!!! I returned them with a note: "Thanks, but not my brand! Actually, not my sport!" Sure, an enemy just might want to spar with Mr. BloodShotBlue Eyes. Ah, ha. On the other hand...nah.
Yes, I live in a multi-family dwelling. I really do enjoy my fellow man. I don't complain. I could not really care about any of the above...until: 1. There is an unfounded complaint about me and 2. I am asked to find someone to torture, both in the same 48 hour period!
Share this bliss with a friend or foe? REALLY VILLAGER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME VILLAGER? Hey, TWO MEN AND A TRUCK, what are you doing this spring? Bring boxes for my things and a shredder for the due to be renewed lease!
Then again, The Villager let me in...wow, they really must need riff-raff in order to fill their vacancies.
The next day, I received a notice...PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF YOUR NEIGHBORS. IT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO OUR ATTENTION THAT THERE WERE SCREAMING CHILDREN HEARD LAST NIGHT, blah, blah, blah. Oh, really? Well, my grandchildren were not there that day, night, the day before, the night before, the day after, the night after and were not there when the notice was cowardly stuck in the door...Hey Villager, are you nuts? We are complaining about ME? I think not!
Has anyone heard the man downstairs' cat howling all night with a friend beneath my window? Now, that is the sound of crying, screaming children. Listen sometime! How about the individual who has the dog that howls all night at the moon, stars and any passing emergency vehicle that screams past the complex? One of my personal favorites is the man who at four in the morning was shouting at his partner because he caught her in a compromising situation with another gentleman! The residents of The Villager heard that evening that she just isn't much for keeping her clothes on while doing the "oh yeahs" between the sheets...not his. A close second is the nasty man who at midnight kept yelling at children who were crying to "shut up" because he was on the phone. I think that my fellow Villagers would agree that he really didn't need the phone. Whoever was on the receiving end really only had to lean out of his/her window, even as far as China. Biker Dude doesn't really have show off all of his VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM at two in the morning and again at six that same morning, does he? I know that motorcycles are loud...but, he only kicks it into HI when the two previously mentioned men are out cold.
Who do I dislike enough to try to enlist as a "neighbor" in order that I collect the $300 prize? Let's see. The Playground has been dismantled and hauled away. The Club House is not available for residents to use with or without a fee because it has been redecorated and "well, you know" is what I was told. Hmmmm. Yep, that'll make someone feel really unwanted! The nut downstairs left me a pile of cigarette butts at my door that he figured I threw off of my deck...I DON'T SMOKE!!! I returned them with a note: "Thanks, but not my brand! Actually, not my sport!" Sure, an enemy just might want to spar with Mr. BloodShotBlue Eyes. Ah, ha. On the other hand...nah.
Yes, I live in a multi-family dwelling. I really do enjoy my fellow man. I don't complain. I could not really care about any of the above...until: 1. There is an unfounded complaint about me and 2. I am asked to find someone to torture, both in the same 48 hour period!
Share this bliss with a friend or foe? REALLY VILLAGER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME VILLAGER? Hey, TWO MEN AND A TRUCK, what are you doing this spring? Bring boxes for my things and a shredder for the due to be renewed lease!
Then again, The Villager let me in...wow, they really must need riff-raff in order to fill their vacancies.
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