Stories I Remember

Non-Fiction: A Narrative Compass by Hearne & Trites

This is an anthology, by women scholars in different disciplines, that talk about the stories of their youths and how those stories shaped their lives. The women are different in ethnicity, race and social background. They each have interesting stories to tell.

The American women named books familiar to me: Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, Little House on the Prairie, The Secret Garden, and my personal favorite, Nancy Drew.

The women from foreign places, cited verbal stories passed down through their families. It was an interesting, and I think, unintended contrast. The only American woman to use family story was of American Indian ancestry.

Reading the introduction, I immediately thought about how I had read every Nancy Drew I could find.

Upon finishing, I thought about my own family stories; some true, some embellished, some downright lies. I probably liked the lies the best.

The book's an interesting read and brought back some fond memories.

"War! What is it good for!" Edwin Starr

According to estimates, the war in Iraq and Afghanistan has cost one trillion dollars so far. That's trillion, with a T.

At the same time this is what is happening in America.

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And this.

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It's well past time to answer the question...again.

One Man's Trash

I loved this story.

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"Use one social problem to solve another." What a concept.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's Thanksgiving and I'm cooking. Asked Staff Support to do today's blog. Just something simple, I said. He came up with this.

The economy Thanksgiving turkey.

The look on my face must have conveyed my thoughts. He tried again.


The Zen Thanksgiving. See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, to the fake turkey and the Indians presumably.

The screech in his ear must have signaled my continuing dissatisfaction. Something a little more traditional, I shrilled. I mean, I said quietly. He gave it one last shot.


Here it is.

I swear, on the outside, Staff Support looks perfectly normal.

Courage at Disneyland

News headline: Obama's first pardon: A turkey named 'Courage'

The Rogue would have wrung its neck, jerked off its head, held it aloft and let the bloody gore drip down her arm.

I'm not being political. I'm just saying...

"I Feet the Earth Move Under My Feet"- Carole King

Ten days ago, on November 14, a pretty big earthquake struck Northern Argentina. Thankfully, it occurred in an unoccupied area. Although quite large at magnitude 6.1, there were no injuries or property damage. There being no bloody gore or human misery at which to gawk, the story quickly dropped out of the news.

Earthquakes happen to relieve pressure along the major seismic plates circling the earth. They're actually pretty common. The location and size of this one got me thinking.

It happened at the lower end of the plate that snakes up the west coast of South America, continues through Central America and North America to Alaska. If quake follows quake, as usually happens, eventually there could be some pretty big ones on the West Coast of the U.S.

Of course, pressure has to build up first. Depending how fast it does, we could be looking at quakes from California to Alaska by December, 2012.

Maybe those Mayan guys were on to something after all.

Please take my money!

Stopped at the ham store today. They're all set up for the holiday rush. Nice clerk behind the counter took my order, removed it from the package for my approval, re-wrapped it, put it in a plastic bag, wished me a happy holiday, sent me to the check-out counter. Entire transaction took about a minute and a half.

Got to the check-out counter. There was one customer at the register, and another in front of me. Clerk behind the register was pleasant, chatting with her customer while ringing up the sale. Cash register glitch. Clerk voids the transaction and tries again.

Register hangs up again. Clerk gets flustered and calls Manager. Customer in front of me, turns and rolls her eyes. Two more people get in line behind me.

Manager makes her way to the register. Tries transaction. No dice. Customer at counter turns to customers waiting in line and shrugs an apology. Three more people get in line behind me.

Check-out clerk finally opens another register while Manager works with customer at the counter. What starts as a pleasant, and quick transaction, turns into a chore. Everyone is unhappy; the check-out clerk, the manager, and the very long line of customers with money in their hands.

The cash part of my transaction took over seven minutes, five times longer than selecting the product. The easiest thing to do in any business should be taking the money.

This happens so often I'm thinking about having business cards printed up. Seriously.

"It's a Duesy"

Just north of Fort Wayne, Indiana, there's a small town called Auburn. In Auburn there's a 1920's Art Deco building that time forgot. And fortunate it was. Now a museum, it is beautiful in every way possible.

If you like classic cars,

and even if you don't,

this is a place well worth visiting.

You might bump into a familiar face.

Make that skim milk please

Seriously creepy news headline. Peruvian Police: Gang Killed to Collect Human Fat.

According to this story, Peruvian thugs kill people, collect their fat, and sell it to a cosmetic company. The cosmetic company supposedly sells the products in Europe. No cosmetic company was actually named.

People are willing to do some pretty gruesome things in the pursuit of beauty. Waxing anything immediately comes to mind. But is there really someone on earth who would purposely rub human fat on themselves? What would that ad campaign look like?

And why bother to kill anyone? They could just pick up the trash at any plastic surgeon's office who does liposuction. There must be tons of the stuff in California alone.

And that raises an ugly question. Just where does all that...um...material go?

Eeyoooow. There's a picture that's going to be hard to forget.

Geezer Bandit-Update

America's Most Wanted

"On Sept. 12, the sticky-fingered senior citizen struck again -- this time at the San Diego National Bank. During the heist, witnesses say he carried an oxygen tank on his shoulder with a tube leading into his nose."

I'm sorry, I can't help it. An oxygen tank?

"It's a Lulu"-1940's slang

Several of the publishing blogs I follow are agog with an announcement from Harlequin. In case you don't know, Harlequin's claim to fame is the romance novel.

Harlequin has decided to publish pretty much anything anyone sends them, for a fee of course. They mean if the 'legitimate' publishing side of the business turns down a manuscript, the author is encouraged to send it to another of their business enterprises which will print it for $600.

In the olden days, that kind of publisher was called a vanity press. But through the marvels of marketing, it's now called self-publishing. Doesn't that sound like good old American get up and go?

We have a wonderful example of how this might work from the music industry. There were so many frustrated rock stars waiting to be discovered, that they simply eliminated those pesky middle men who were wrongly filtering out their talent. They cut their own cd's and put them on the internet. Now anyone in the world can sample their genius before they plunk down any money. Yep, capitalism at its finest.

The problem for consumers (that would be the people with the money) is there are about six bazillion rock star cd's to sort through. I guess that's no problem if you're a student with not much to do. I can't see anyone with a job bothering with it.

It sounds like Harlequin has decided they can't make money selling books. They can only make money selling bindings. Maybe it's just me, but $600 bucks for a binder sounds pretty expensive.

Lulu will do it for about $100.

"Just Do It"- Nike

News Headline: FBI Looking for 'Geezer Bandit' in California

I laughed. I shouldn't. The five bank tellers robbed at gun point didn't find it funny.

But when I read the headlines, an image immediately popped into my head.

The guy's 70. He fled on foot. Those must be some Nike's.

"No matter where you go-there you are"- Confucius

Saw this headline and it got me thinking. It's starting to bother me the way we're barging around in outer space.

First mission: go to the moon, do some sight-seeing, come home.

Second mission: invade the moon, steal some rocks, dump some garbage, come home.

Third mission: invade the moon, take a junky car, trample the scenery, hit some golf balls, steal more rocks, dump more garbage including the junked car, come home.

Next mission: invade mars, leave a couple of spies, window-peep for five years.

Next mission: send spy probes to every other planet in the galaxy.

Next mission: Big Brother Hubble.

Latest mission: bomb the moon.

Is it just me, or are we starting to look like really bad neighbors?

In the rear view mirror

Craggy, warty, ragged, but lovely just the same. Something pretty for a beautiful sunny Sunday.

The Virtue of Patience

Walking in the park and came across this guy. Surprised to see him still around. He's kind of hard to see. Wait just a minute. Wait...wait.


Ah, there he is. That's much better.

"Where Everybody Knows Your Name" Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo

Had lunch with a group of old friends today. We talked about everything and nothing, as friends do.

There is something so comfortable about conversing with a group of intelligent people you've known for years. Shared interesting conversation, funny stories and a few sad ones too. We solved the world's problems over a bite to eat. It was a good mind stretch, a good laughter stretch, an all around pleasant time.

The guy in the song had it just right.

Next time though, we really should consider dressing up a little more.

Clean Desk Award

I'm a piler. I mostly pile up news articles, magazines, research, and interesting things I might want to read some day. I also have a bazillion sticky notes with cryptic messages scribbled on them stuck everywhere. Once in a while, the piles get ominously tall.

Today was one of those days. I took an hour to sort through, clean out and throw away a bunch of junk. The good thing about being a piler, is that by the time I get to going through the stuff, I can't remember why I kept it in the first place. It makes the job so much easier.

I've tried lots of different filing systems but I always ended up with cabinets jammed full of paper. It was out of sight, but ignored. This way, I pile it up until it threatens to crush me, then I throw it all out and start again.

It's weird but it works for me. As a side bonus, I feel ten pounds lighter.

"Party on Dude" Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure

Watched a TV documentary on crop circles. You know, those fancy designs that show up in farmers fields at harvest time. According to the documentary, there are two kinds of crop circles.

The first kind are simple, neatly layered crops with no broken or crushed stalks and typically with an odd polarity to them. They appear all over the world. Scientists don't know what causes them, though they surmise it has something to do with earths natural gravitational laws.

The second kind are very elaborate. They were a mystery for decades. Then in 1991 two guys confessed to starting them in southern England in the early 1960's. They used simple geometry and a board and rope tool to make them.

What's fascinating about this, is that many people ignore the guys who confessed. Instead they argue and debate endlessly about the source of these elaborate circles. They show up wherever the circles are discovered, and commiserate with...well with whatever source they believe created them.

I suspect they're just looking for a good reason to party.

I can't take any more!!

This was my view for the entire day. I started early in the morning and I am still at it. I'm sick of it. My eyes hurt. My brain has turned to mush. I literally can't think straight.

I'm going to turn the computer off now and go eat cookies. Lots of cookies.

Parlez vous Francais?

Non-Fiction Book: I'll Never Be French (no matter what I do) by Mark Greenside

This is a light fun read about a middle-aged American man who goes to Brittany, France on an extended vacation and falls in love with a small Breton village. He doesn't speak the language, has little knowledge of how things in the country operate, and manages to buy a house before he leaves.

Each chapter is a little story about his experience dealing with an everyday situation, from the simple-buying groceries, to the more complex-making a claim with his insurance agent. Along the way he describes the challenges and pleasures of living in a different culture, and learning to live in a small town.

The Support Staff recommended it to me. I liked it too. So much so, I'm busy checking fares on Air France.

"The Road Not Taken" Robert Frost

A lovely tunnel of trees, leading who knows where. Is there anything better than crunching through dried leaves in the fall? It's a lot more fun than raking them up.

Unless you're this guy.

"Ohm" Buddhist Mantra

After yesterday's post, Support Staff thought some much needed calm was in order. A beautiful place for quiet reflection. Found this around a bend in the road. A little mood music helped too. I must say it worked its magic.

I feel much better now.

"Off with their heads" Queen of Hearts

News Headline: Walmart-Nobody Will Lose Job With H1N1

It's comforting to know that folks who work there, folks who come in contact with hundreds of people daily, including little kids and teens, have permission to stay home if they get swine flu.

What I find odd, is that the Corporate Management has told the media they will send a special letter to their store managers to inform them. Why would managers have to be told people with flu, swine or otherwise, need to stay home? Hasn't flu been around for a while?

Maybe the part the managers didn't know was that the permission extended to sick kids of workers. Apparently it's a new concept, parents staying home with sick kids, at Walmart anyway.

I wonder if the permission extends to life threatening things like appendicitis, pneumonia or heart failure? I guess it doesn't matter. Those aren't contagious and won't keep shoppers out of the stores.

I'd hate to see Walmart miss a buck.

Leave a message

Story in the news today about people finding messages in bottles. Thought it was an unusual happening. Nope. Lots of people search rivers and beaches and find bottles with messages inside. One guy has found more than 60 so far. I really wanted to know what the notes said.

I found this story fascinating and thought about what I might write. It should be something profound. Something that would awe and inspire. Something life changing, or life affirming.

It might not be found for fifty years. What would people find inspiring fifty years from now? I came up with a long list of possibilities.

Have a nice day-trite. Take care of yourself-ditto. Nothing seemed right, weighty enough, deep enough.

Here's the best I could do. No littering.

The Body Hit the Floor...or not.

I've been writing along on my story. Got over 20,000 words so far. Here's the thing. I can't kill off my victim. She should have hit the morgue 5,000 words ago. Every time I get close, she gets a reprieve. That isn't good in a mystery. I mean where's the mystery if no one ends up dead?

The problem is, I like her. I just can't pull the trigger on her. So here we are, at least three chapters from where she was supposed to hit the floor, still dancing around looking for something to do. It's boring. But I just can't do it.

I tried knocking off that good-for-nothing, two-faced, viper-tongued friend of hers. I didn't care. I was glad to see the sniveling shrew get it. Doesn't make for a good mystery.

This happens all the time. I've got two other half done stories where the intended victims are still walking around listening to their ipods.

I'm getting this uncomfortable deja vu the newest almost victim is going to live forever with the others in the unfinished file in my desk drawer.

Dang, I really thought I could pull the trigger this time.

Pretty Maids all in a Row

Fall is rapidly coming to a close. Wanted to capture the lovely seasonal color in a favorite park.

Before they're raking it from the lawn.

Reading is Fundamental

I love, love, love, seeing little kids in the library. A youngster, I'm guessing nine or so, in the kids section caught my eye today. He studied the shelves. One book after another was thoughtfully examined only to be replaced. Obviously a kid of discerning taste.

As I was leaving, he approached the desk with his selection. He solemnly placed his library card on his choice, and pushed it across the check-out desk.

I'm telling you it was all I could do to stop myself from running over to see which book had so tantalized his imagination to make the cut.

Of course I did wonder why he was in the library at 1:30 on a school day. The Marshal in me I guess.

"The Farmer in the Dell" Nursery Rhyme

I love a rainy day. And what could be better than a rainy day with an extra hour? Last night we let our clocks fall back for daylight savings time.

I've never heard an explanation for daylight savings that made sense to me. Somewhere I picked up the notion it was for the farmers. Not sure why they would care one way or another. There's only so many hours of daylight, and they probably use every one of them regardless of what the clock says.

I looked it up in Wiki, modern repository of all knowledge. The explanation was muddled. Wiki did note the problem to farmers but not exactly what that problem might be.

As for me, I'll enjoy the extra hour of rain today and do something fun in the sun tomorrow.