Over the last several years I have wrestled with whether or not to go back to school to become a pastor. One of the things that most holds me back is my obligation to my immediate family first and the Church second (see 2 Corinthians 7:32-35). The other is the ridiculous amount of politics an controversy in the Church (see 1 Tim 6:4 & Titus 3:9). There is an element of malcontents who make it their business to police the Church for heretics when they should be about the work of the Great Commission. Mostly it irritates me, but I'd be lying if I said that it didn't also intimidate me.
But the more I pray about it and the more I read the Bible, the less I think that it is necessary to wear a black collar and have the letters "Rev." before your name.
All of us are called to the "priesthood of all believers" (1 Pet 2:9). So, wherever God takes me, whether I remain a public school teacher or became a trash collector, He can use me and work through me as His instrument. I will not let myself feel inadequate or inferior for not being in "professional" ministry.
After all in His book "Babylonian Captivity of the Church," Martin Luther himself said that pastors are no better than laymen, they are only in a different office.
The first President of the Lutheran Church~Missouri Synod, C. F. W. Walther said: "Mission work is particularly the obligation of Lutheran Christians today because of the wealth God has given them and the open doors He has set before them. . . No one should say 'I am no pastor'. . . You have been baptized and through Holy Baptism . . . every Christian has received not only the power, but the full authority and the right, but also the obligation under penalty of losing divine grace himself or herself, to watch, to care and to help that others may also be enlightened and brought to Christ."
So if God wants me to be an actual pastor so badly, He can make it happen, but I don't need to stress-out about it anymore. I'm sick of fretting and fuming. I know that He has use for me and has touched people in my life already.
In so far as God speaks through me and uses me to share His Word with others, I am a Prophet.
In so far as God uses me as an intermediator when I intercede on behalf of others with Him in prayer, and represent His love and forgiveness to others daily, I am a Priest.
In so far as God uses me as an example and a leader and because Christ makes us heirs to His Kingdom, I am a King.
The name "Christian" means "little imitators of Chirst," or "little anointed ones." You and I are all called, made holy and set aside for God's purposes.
Thank God that He saved me by grace, through faith, in order to do the good works for which He created me (Ephesians 2:8-10.)
Thursday, July 29, 2004
The promise after the storm
One afternoon I had some business in Mapleton, here at the NEWSpaper’s offices. I brought Ellie, our two year, old with me since her sister had swimming lessons.
As we were on our way home through Ute, Ellie asked me, “Da-ad, where we going?”
“We’re just headed home to Charter Oak,” I answered.
“Me don’t wanna go home!” she protested, “Me wanna go to Kindergaawten!”
She often combines the songs that her older sister has taught her- “A-B-C-D- E-I-Yo-The BIBLE tells me SO!”
I don’t know what makes me more happy, that she’s so excited about learning and going to school or that she already knows how much God loves her. These are both things that have trickled down from her big sister Gracie’s experiences at Noah’s Ark Pre-School.
God saved Noah and his family from the flood that destroyed the whole world by sheltering them in the Ark that He’d had Noah build. Decades ago God used Sandy Bramley, Lynn Hoffman and St. John Lutheran Church to build Noah’s Ark Preschool.
Many people mourned the loss of St. John Lutheran Elementary School, but God kept His promises by providing Noah’s Ark to provide children with a strong preparation for Kindergarten and Elementary school and more importantly a strong foundation in knowing God’s love for them through His Son Jesus and His Word, the Bible.
Now Noah’s Ark has faced some stormy seas. Long time director Sandy Bramley retired, St. John Lutheran’s long time pastor L.C. Gebhardt retired, and Charter Oak-Ute public school launched a “transitional-kindergarten” preschool of it’s own in Ute.
But I want you to know that the Ark is not being decommissioned and put into dry-dock. St. John Lutheran’s Board of Education recently met with Mrs. Bramley to make sure that it continues the serving kids as they first set out on life’s voyage.
Noah’s Ark is still State Certified. We’ve asked Sandy’s Daughter and long-time assistant Gretchen Bonsall to take over the helm as Director. Pastor Brandt of St. Paul’s Ute is serving St. John as it’s vacancy Pastor until we call a new one.
While COU’s “T-K” will no doubt be an outstanding service for those students who because of learning or behavior difficulties aren’t quite ready for full-fledged kindergarten, the can’t even talk about Jesus or His love, let alone focus on it because of the separation of Church and State. I don’t want to disparage COU’s new program in any way, I’m sure it’s exemplary, but Noah’s Ark is not only a tradition in Charter Oak and Ute, it is a vital ministry that effects the spiritual formation of children in a very real way.
But Noah’s Ark needs passengers to stay afloat. Because people may not have known what was going on, they may not have thought about registering their children for the Fall yet. We need more parents to enroll their children soon.
Noah’s Ark serves 2 and 3 year olds 2 days a week for less than $50 a month, including meals and snacks. I didn’t think Ellie was old enough, but Sandy assured me that if they will turn three by December 30, they can start Preschool.
Noah’s Ark serves 4 and 5 year olds three days a week for just $55 a month, including meals and snacks. These kids get a lot of attention and preparation of skills they’ll need for kindergarten, and they go on some great field trips. Best of all, they hear about God’s love and promises every day that they’re on board the Ark. Surely that’s something that Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, ANY Christian parents and grandparents would want for their preschoolers- not just Lutherans!
So if you have or know someone who has a 2-5 year old and you’re looking for the best head start you can give them in life, please call St. John Lutheran’s office, or Sandy Bramley or Gretchen Bonsall a call and tell them you’d like to reserve space on this Fall’s voyage of promise.
As we were on our way home through Ute, Ellie asked me, “Da-ad, where we going?”
“We’re just headed home to Charter Oak,” I answered.
“Me don’t wanna go home!” she protested, “Me wanna go to Kindergaawten!”
She often combines the songs that her older sister has taught her- “A-B-C-D- E-I-Yo-The BIBLE tells me SO!”
I don’t know what makes me more happy, that she’s so excited about learning and going to school or that she already knows how much God loves her. These are both things that have trickled down from her big sister Gracie’s experiences at Noah’s Ark Pre-School.
God saved Noah and his family from the flood that destroyed the whole world by sheltering them in the Ark that He’d had Noah build. Decades ago God used Sandy Bramley, Lynn Hoffman and St. John Lutheran Church to build Noah’s Ark Preschool.
Many people mourned the loss of St. John Lutheran Elementary School, but God kept His promises by providing Noah’s Ark to provide children with a strong preparation for Kindergarten and Elementary school and more importantly a strong foundation in knowing God’s love for them through His Son Jesus and His Word, the Bible.
Now Noah’s Ark has faced some stormy seas. Long time director Sandy Bramley retired, St. John Lutheran’s long time pastor L.C. Gebhardt retired, and Charter Oak-Ute public school launched a “transitional-kindergarten” preschool of it’s own in Ute.
But I want you to know that the Ark is not being decommissioned and put into dry-dock. St. John Lutheran’s Board of Education recently met with Mrs. Bramley to make sure that it continues the serving kids as they first set out on life’s voyage.
Noah’s Ark is still State Certified. We’ve asked Sandy’s Daughter and long-time assistant Gretchen Bonsall to take over the helm as Director. Pastor Brandt of St. Paul’s Ute is serving St. John as it’s vacancy Pastor until we call a new one.
While COU’s “T-K” will no doubt be an outstanding service for those students who because of learning or behavior difficulties aren’t quite ready for full-fledged kindergarten, the can’t even talk about Jesus or His love, let alone focus on it because of the separation of Church and State. I don’t want to disparage COU’s new program in any way, I’m sure it’s exemplary, but Noah’s Ark is not only a tradition in Charter Oak and Ute, it is a vital ministry that effects the spiritual formation of children in a very real way.
But Noah’s Ark needs passengers to stay afloat. Because people may not have known what was going on, they may not have thought about registering their children for the Fall yet. We need more parents to enroll their children soon.
Noah’s Ark serves 2 and 3 year olds 2 days a week for less than $50 a month, including meals and snacks. I didn’t think Ellie was old enough, but Sandy assured me that if they will turn three by December 30, they can start Preschool.
Noah’s Ark serves 4 and 5 year olds three days a week for just $55 a month, including meals and snacks. These kids get a lot of attention and preparation of skills they’ll need for kindergarten, and they go on some great field trips. Best of all, they hear about God’s love and promises every day that they’re on board the Ark. Surely that’s something that Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, ANY Christian parents and grandparents would want for their preschoolers- not just Lutherans!
So if you have or know someone who has a 2-5 year old and you’re looking for the best head start you can give them in life, please call St. John Lutheran’s office, or Sandy Bramley or Gretchen Bonsall a call and tell them you’d like to reserve space on this Fall’s voyage of promise.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
It’s not FAIR that it’s over
The weather on Sunday and Monday of Achievement Days was typically sweltering, but Tuesday and Wednesday we absolutely beautiful. We’re really fortunate in Charter Oak to have the Achievement Days. I enjoy them a lot more than any County Fair, and I’ll tell you why.
They’re a lot cheaper, they don’t smell near as bad, you know almost everybody there, and you don’t have a heart attack if you lose track of your kids for a few minutes- what’s more, it’s harder to lose your kids in the first place- or for them to lose you for that matter.
If you happened to miss the Achievement Days, July 11-14, you might not have heard Dan Kuhlmann announce at the livestock show that the Charter Oak Boosters is the largest 4-H group in Crawford County. And the Ute Explorers are the biggest in Monona County.
According to the law of averages, therefore, you probably saw projects and livestock that will be winning ribbons in Onawa and Denison soon, and no doubt on to Des Moines for the State Fair too!
Don’t quote me on this, but I believe someone told me that 2004 was the 57th year for the Charter Oak Achievement Days.
Ron Welner told me that 2004 was the 50th anniversary of the building used by the Methodist Church for their annual food stand. How about that? Come to think of it, looking up at the canvas roof, I was kind of reminded of the Korean War era hospital tents on M*A*S*H.
Imagine, every year they fold the thing up and store it in the old garage behind the Church. After this year, of course it will be retired since the Methodists will be able to borrow a portion of the much anticipated new shelter house.
I realize that the shelter house hasn’t been without it’s share of controversy- which you notice I’ve deliberately steered clear of in this column. Ya never like to lose trees, but rumor has it the ones that came down proved to be pretty sick after all. Between our park and the arboretum across the highway, we still put many another town to shame as trees go. And it will sure be nice to enjoy 4H exhibits in air conditioned comfort next year.
All I know is, those Methodists always have some wonderful pie and everyone who volunteers at the food stand is friendly and cheerful- you can’t always say that about the service at some county and state fairs. I for one really appreciate their dedication.
And we’re incredibly lucky to enjoy the Alumni BBQ and the Clubettes’ fishing pond (box), and the popcorn, cotton candy, root beer floats, games, face painting, auction and Bingo games too! I hope that as a community, we know how lucky we are and appreciate all the hard work that so many volunteers put in.
I don’t know of many towns as small as Charter Oak that have as nice a children’s playground as we do. Not to mention our pool, tennis courts and phenomenal Softball team!
Maybe I wasn’t in there long enough or was there when it was relatively cool, but I swear our livestock “barns” smell a helluva lot better than any I’ve been in at county and state fairs.
Of course live stock is gonna be fun with my girls.
“Hi big cows! Hi big cows” my two year old, Ellie waved to all the cattle as we walked through the stalls. She’s so friendly.
But I’m a little worried about her older sister Grace’s tastes and sense of aesthetics. As she crouched down to look at one hog through the fence, she mused “Oooh, he’s so CUTE! He Beuootiful!”
They’re a lot cheaper, they don’t smell near as bad, you know almost everybody there, and you don’t have a heart attack if you lose track of your kids for a few minutes- what’s more, it’s harder to lose your kids in the first place- or for them to lose you for that matter.
If you happened to miss the Achievement Days, July 11-14, you might not have heard Dan Kuhlmann announce at the livestock show that the Charter Oak Boosters is the largest 4-H group in Crawford County. And the Ute Explorers are the biggest in Monona County.
According to the law of averages, therefore, you probably saw projects and livestock that will be winning ribbons in Onawa and Denison soon, and no doubt on to Des Moines for the State Fair too!
Don’t quote me on this, but I believe someone told me that 2004 was the 57th year for the Charter Oak Achievement Days.
Ron Welner told me that 2004 was the 50th anniversary of the building used by the Methodist Church for their annual food stand. How about that? Come to think of it, looking up at the canvas roof, I was kind of reminded of the Korean War era hospital tents on M*A*S*H.
Imagine, every year they fold the thing up and store it in the old garage behind the Church. After this year, of course it will be retired since the Methodists will be able to borrow a portion of the much anticipated new shelter house.
I realize that the shelter house hasn’t been without it’s share of controversy- which you notice I’ve deliberately steered clear of in this column. Ya never like to lose trees, but rumor has it the ones that came down proved to be pretty sick after all. Between our park and the arboretum across the highway, we still put many another town to shame as trees go. And it will sure be nice to enjoy 4H exhibits in air conditioned comfort next year.
All I know is, those Methodists always have some wonderful pie and everyone who volunteers at the food stand is friendly and cheerful- you can’t always say that about the service at some county and state fairs. I for one really appreciate their dedication.
And we’re incredibly lucky to enjoy the Alumni BBQ and the Clubettes’ fishing pond (box), and the popcorn, cotton candy, root beer floats, games, face painting, auction and Bingo games too! I hope that as a community, we know how lucky we are and appreciate all the hard work that so many volunteers put in.
I don’t know of many towns as small as Charter Oak that have as nice a children’s playground as we do. Not to mention our pool, tennis courts and phenomenal Softball team!
Maybe I wasn’t in there long enough or was there when it was relatively cool, but I swear our livestock “barns” smell a helluva lot better than any I’ve been in at county and state fairs.
Of course live stock is gonna be fun with my girls.
“Hi big cows! Hi big cows” my two year old, Ellie waved to all the cattle as we walked through the stalls. She’s so friendly.
But I’m a little worried about her older sister Grace’s tastes and sense of aesthetics. As she crouched down to look at one hog through the fence, she mused “Oooh, he’s so CUTE! He Beuootiful!”
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Please pray for my Cheer squad from Boyer Valley. We are going to an all day clinic this Saturday (July 17th) at a College in Sioux City. It will be the first time our new squad works together. It can be pretty intense and it’s usually brutally hot. So please pray for their safety, that they learn and remember as much as possible, and that this is a “bonding” experience for them too. The girls going are Moe Clemon (2005), Rena Hayden (‘08), Randi Stephens(‘05), and rookies Aleigh Beam (‘05). And Kelli Allen (’05), along with Middle School veteran Bethany Osborne (Class of 2009),
Please also pray for Bethany & I and ten students from St John’s Lutheran Youth Group. We’ll will be attending the National Lutheran Youth Gathering in Orlando Fla, along with over 33,000 other LCMS teenagers from across the country. We’ll be leaving Thurs July 22 and return home to Des Moines on July 28. While you’re at it, please pray for our girls Grace (5) and Ellie (2) who’ll be spending the week at their Grandma & Grampa’s farm. We’ll miss ‘em!
The Gathering is intended by organizers to be a “faith-building experience,” NOT just another vacation. It’s theme, “Beyond Imagination” is based on Ephesians 3:20-21. The goal is for kids to grow in their relationship with God.
Students will participate in mass worship events, Christian concerts, devotions, Bible Studies, servant events, and seminars given by Christian speakers on a variety of subjects pertaining to young people’s lives and faiths.
You can learn more about the gathering by visiting the National Youth Gathering
Web site: nyg.lcms.org
Please Pray for us daily
A few years ago there was a best selling devotional book based on the “Jabez Prayer” from the book of Chronicles. I’d like you to consider another prayer that you can use every day.
Paul’s Prayer for the Church in Ephesus
“I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know Him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints and His incomparably great power for us who believe.”
~Ephesians 1:17-1
Pray for our Youth Group members
Dear Lord,
May Your Holy Spirit help the members of St. John’s Lutheran Youth Fellowship grow in their relationship with God. Please open their eyes, minds, and hearts to Your Word. Increase their faith, their knowledge of the You and their wisdom, so that they can become who God wants them to be. Keep them safe during their travels and may their journey be a blessing to them, their families, and our congregation.
In Jesus name we pray, Amen!
Going to National Youth Gathering in Orlando, Fla:
Jake Goslar- Sophomore
Terry Goslar-2004 Graduate
Grant Kuhlmann-Senior
Jason Kuhlmann- Sophomore
Lee Kuhlmann- Senior
Brandon Kruze- Senior
Bryant Maack- Junior
James Magill- Sophomore
Lacy Neddermeyer- Senior
Melissa Theis-Senior
Bethany & Ted Mallory- Counselors
Pray it for yourself. You can pray it daily like the Lord’s Prayer or the Jabez Prayer:
Holy Spirit help me grow in my relationship with God,
increase my faith, my knowledge of the You and my wisdom,
so that I can become who God wants me to be. Amen!
Please also pray for Bethany & I and ten students from St John’s Lutheran Youth Group. We’ll will be attending the National Lutheran Youth Gathering in Orlando Fla, along with over 33,000 other LCMS teenagers from across the country. We’ll be leaving Thurs July 22 and return home to Des Moines on July 28. While you’re at it, please pray for our girls Grace (5) and Ellie (2) who’ll be spending the week at their Grandma & Grampa’s farm. We’ll miss ‘em!
The Gathering is intended by organizers to be a “faith-building experience,” NOT just another vacation. It’s theme, “Beyond Imagination” is based on Ephesians 3:20-21. The goal is for kids to grow in their relationship with God.
Students will participate in mass worship events, Christian concerts, devotions, Bible Studies, servant events, and seminars given by Christian speakers on a variety of subjects pertaining to young people’s lives and faiths.
You can learn more about the gathering by visiting the National Youth Gathering
Web site: nyg.lcms.org
Please Pray for us daily
A few years ago there was a best selling devotional book based on the “Jabez Prayer” from the book of Chronicles. I’d like you to consider another prayer that you can use every day.
Paul’s Prayer for the Church in Ephesus
“I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know Him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints and His incomparably great power for us who believe.”
~Ephesians 1:17-1
Pray for our Youth Group members
Dear Lord,
May Your Holy Spirit help the members of St. John’s Lutheran Youth Fellowship grow in their relationship with God. Please open their eyes, minds, and hearts to Your Word. Increase their faith, their knowledge of the You and their wisdom, so that they can become who God wants them to be. Keep them safe during their travels and may their journey be a blessing to them, their families, and our congregation.
In Jesus name we pray, Amen!
Going to National Youth Gathering in Orlando, Fla:
Jake Goslar- Sophomore
Terry Goslar-2004 Graduate
Grant Kuhlmann-Senior
Jason Kuhlmann- Sophomore
Lee Kuhlmann- Senior
Brandon Kruze- Senior
Bryant Maack- Junior
James Magill- Sophomore
Lacy Neddermeyer- Senior
Melissa Theis-Senior
Bethany & Ted Mallory- Counselors
Pray it for yourself. You can pray it daily like the Lord’s Prayer or the Jabez Prayer:
Holy Spirit help me grow in my relationship with God,
increase my faith, my knowledge of the You and my wisdom,
so that I can become who God wants me to be. Amen!
Vocabulary of a two year old
by Ted Mallory
Thursday July 15, 2004
Our two year old, Ellen has three phrases that she uses in place of a period to let us know that she’s spoken a complete sentence. They are: “You know it; I said; and Me told you.” Allow me to demonstrate how she might use them:
“It waining outside, you know it?” (Translation: “it is raining outside.”)
“I wan mo’ milky, I said.” (“Translation: “May I have more milk, please?”) If the request is not met immediately, you can expect to hear “I SAID” a few more times and perhaps louder. “Mo’ milk, I SAID!”
Sometimes all three may be strung together to form an exclamation-“See? Me TOLD you it Waining! Me told you, I said.” (Translation: “I notice that it is still raining outside.”)
These are all phrases that she learned from her older sister Grace. I believe Grace used them whenever she was frustrated with having to repeat herself to adults who didn’t understand her. Grace is still struggling with dysarthria and/or dis-co-ordination, disorders that don’t have anything to do with her understanding and learning, but hamper her being understood by others.
When Grace was two she might have said, “Itwaninouside”
Of course, we’d respond, “What did you say honey?”
And she’d repeat her statement, punctuated with her frustration, “It WAINING OUSIDE, you KNOW IT!”
We like to say that Ellen two going on 14, if only because she’s decided to call us “Bef and Ted” as often as she does “Mom and Dad.”
As rough as it was understanding Grace, it’s been even more of a challenge to understand Ellie because Ellie will use completely different words for certain meanings. For example, we believe that in her language, “Helwen” means “Sister.” Why else would she use the word “Helwen” whenever she calls to her sister Grace?
“Helwen! Come here Helwen!”
“My names not Helwen, I’m Gwace, you Helwen,” Grace may answer.
“Come on Gwace” Ellen will reply.
Likewise, for a long time “Grammy” was any woman over 50. Now that she has “Gwammy Mawge” separated from “Gwama Laura” and “Anntie Gwadys,” she has decided that ANY family member is a cousin.
As in “Gwama Lawra, you my COUSIN!”
Of course, her favorite cousin is Braden. Braden is in seventh grade and lives in Topeka Kansas. I believe Ellen is in love with Braden. Once she told us that she and Braden were going to have a baby. Don’t worry, our family strongly discourages inbreeding.
When Grace looks over the photos on our refrigerator, she likes to name off all of her cousins, “Nolan my cousin, Hallie my cousin, Cale my cousin, Braden my…”
“NO!” Ellie declares, “Bwaden’s MY cousin!” She’s just a little possessive.
One day I told Ellie, “I LOVE you SO much! And I love Gracie, and I love your Mommy…”
To which she instantly responded “an I wuv BWADEN!”
A “pickle” could be a pickle, an onion, or a mushroom. All meats are “chicken,” even ham and beef, except for “cheese boogers.”
One day, I was trying to customize the song “Old MacDonald,” by singing “Pappa Allan has a farm,” with the girls. Ellen started singing her own song altogether.
“Old McDonald’s Happy Meal, EE I E I O!”
That, of course is the full name of that fast food restaurant, by the way. It’s not just “McDonald’s.” The name is actually “McDonald’s-Happy-Meal.” You know that you’re nearly there when you drive past “All-Mort” (Wal-Mart).
Ants, butterflies, mosquitoes and bees are all “bUgs,” but spiders are “Sooper Spidah Man.” Peter Parker, of course is a “big boy like Bwaden.”
Her favorite color is orange, and she knows what orange looks like, but if you ask her to identify any other color and they’re all either “bwack or pupurle.”
Last Christmas, my Brother-in-law Cory put a frightening thought in our heads- Hallie, Grace, and Ellie driving around in a car in ten or twelve years from now. But I have found hope that Ellie will be a cautious driver someday. I have this hope because recently she’s become a serious back seat driver.
From her car seat behind be in the van comes a constant stream of “watch out Daddy, slow down Daddy, too slow Daddy, turn the fan on Daddy, look out Dad, Stop Dad, Go Dad…” and occasionally “where we going, Ted?”
It’s usually a joy to listen to a two-year-olds prattle. But there are times you wish they would be seen and not heard. Like when we were shopping and she told me in a loud voice in front of the whole store, “Dad, you gotta BIG BUTT!”
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Grow up to be little
Both of our girls tell us they’re teachers- not that they’re GOING to become teachers when they grow up, but that they ARE teachers. I’m pretty sure that with Grace, the 5 yr old it is an identity thing. We both go to school to work, on occasion we both have conferences or seminars to go to. Essentially it’s part of who we are, thus Grace thinks of her self the same way, just like she’s a Mallory, a Neddermeyer, a Christian or an American, she’s also a Teacher.
I still have hope. There’s at least a good 18 years between now and a Bachelor’s degree for her so maybe respect for teachers or at least teacher salaries will go up, or she’ll marry some rich doctor or engineer, or maybe she’ll change her mind.
With Ellen, the two year old, on the other hand, being a teacher definitely part of play time. The other day she sat all three of us down in chairs on our porch and held class.
“Now, you sit here, and you sit hewa (here), and you sit down, NOW, me gonna teach you!” she announced, and a serious lecture followed, “No puddles, no MUD,” she explained as she paced back and forth in front of us, “No stweet (she’s not old enough to cross alone yet), no touchies (as in glass and china in Hallmark or Amee-and-Me), no SINGING (whered that one come from?), and no puddles, and no STWEET! O-tay?” she concluded.
Wow, kid, you hear us say “No” to a lot of things or what?
I know that teaching is important to her because I’ve had to get some private tutoring. When we’re in the back yard she’ll suddenly decide that I need to climb into the “class-woom” at the top of the slide so that “ME gonna tweech you!”
There’s barely enough room for anyone up there, let alone an adult, but I fold up my legs, and my pride and listen to the day’s lesson.
“Ummm, No mud, and no street, and no bubbles, O-tay Daddy? And, and, no stweet, and NO puddles!”
Yes ma’am, no ma’am.
But we’re keeping perspective, we remind ourselves that she’s the child and still has a lot to learn.
Take for example, conflict resolution. My hope is that this lesson will prevent countless problems on the playground when they’re both at real school…
Grace wanted to play basketball, Ellen wanted to play baseball, they both brought their argument to me, but I was on the phone at the time.
“Hold on just a second girls, Daddy’s on the phone, I’ll help you in just a second.” I said
At this point Grace playfully bounces the basketball on Ellie’s forehead. It wasn’t enough to hurt her and it was actually hard to keep from grinning, but then Ellie wholloped Grace with her plastic baseball bat.
“Okay, okay, I’m going to have to let you go, I seem to have a situation here,” I told the caller, and I really had to hold back the laughter. Part of me wished I’d had it on tape so I could’ve sent it in to America’s Funniest Videos, another part of me was tempted to spank Ellie because she really hit the hardest and with the most malice, but I bit my cheek and put them both into “time-out.”
Two year olds really don’t have a firm grip on reality yet.
I just about blew a gasket the time I walked in on her in the bathroom. A puddle of #1, plenty of #2 smeared across the floor (that I’d scrubbed just a couple hours before), and her pull-up stuffed in the toilet. She was either trying to flush it or scrub it out- I was to fuming to be able to tell for sure. Of course, after I’d given her a bath and cleaned up her mess it dawned on me that this was a good thing, it means that she’s STARTING to catch on to the whole potty-training thing we’d been working on, she just wasn’t entirely clear on the concept just yet.
Then there was the time my parents called from Phoenix. It used to be that she’s listen for a minute or two, press some buttons and drop the phone. Now she gleefully chatters away for nearly a half an hour. Recently she decided to give them a tour of the house (remember, this is by phone).
She held the phone out at arms length and told them “These my books,” walked over to the television, made sure the phone was looking at the screen and told them “Arthur’s on,” then pointed the phone at a clothe basket, “these my clowths.”
I suppose that these days some of you may have those new phones with miniaturized digital cameras in them, but I can assure you, Ellie's Grandma was thoroughly confused.
Like I said, two year olds really don’t have a firm grip on reality yet. But then again, sometimes, they say things that are remarkably profound.
“Da-aad,” Ellie sang my name to get my attention so I knew she was about share something important with me, “Umm, Dad, ummm..”
“What is it honey?” I coaxed.
“Um, maybe someday,” she paused, what? Maybe someday we can go to the park? “umm, maybe someday when you gwow up YOU can be wittle too!”
Sometimes two-year old logic perplexes me so I tested her for clarification. They call this “active listening” in teacher biz, I call it repeating what people just said to you, Ellie does it a lot so turnabout is fair play.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, “when I grow up, maybe I can be little too? Like you?”
“Yeah, when you gwow up you can be wittle too!” she promised. I’m looking forward to it.
I still have hope. There’s at least a good 18 years between now and a Bachelor’s degree for her so maybe respect for teachers or at least teacher salaries will go up, or she’ll marry some rich doctor or engineer, or maybe she’ll change her mind.
With Ellen, the two year old, on the other hand, being a teacher definitely part of play time. The other day she sat all three of us down in chairs on our porch and held class.
“Now, you sit here, and you sit hewa (here), and you sit down, NOW, me gonna teach you!” she announced, and a serious lecture followed, “No puddles, no MUD,” she explained as she paced back and forth in front of us, “No stweet (she’s not old enough to cross alone yet), no touchies (as in glass and china in Hallmark or Amee-and-Me), no SINGING (whered that one come from?), and no puddles, and no STWEET! O-tay?” she concluded.
Wow, kid, you hear us say “No” to a lot of things or what?
I know that teaching is important to her because I’ve had to get some private tutoring. When we’re in the back yard she’ll suddenly decide that I need to climb into the “class-woom” at the top of the slide so that “ME gonna tweech you!”
There’s barely enough room for anyone up there, let alone an adult, but I fold up my legs, and my pride and listen to the day’s lesson.
“Ummm, No mud, and no street, and no bubbles, O-tay Daddy? And, and, no stweet, and NO puddles!”
Yes ma’am, no ma’am.
But we’re keeping perspective, we remind ourselves that she’s the child and still has a lot to learn.
Take for example, conflict resolution. My hope is that this lesson will prevent countless problems on the playground when they’re both at real school…
Grace wanted to play basketball, Ellen wanted to play baseball, they both brought their argument to me, but I was on the phone at the time.
“Hold on just a second girls, Daddy’s on the phone, I’ll help you in just a second.” I said
At this point Grace playfully bounces the basketball on Ellie’s forehead. It wasn’t enough to hurt her and it was actually hard to keep from grinning, but then Ellie wholloped Grace with her plastic baseball bat.
“Okay, okay, I’m going to have to let you go, I seem to have a situation here,” I told the caller, and I really had to hold back the laughter. Part of me wished I’d had it on tape so I could’ve sent it in to America’s Funniest Videos, another part of me was tempted to spank Ellie because she really hit the hardest and with the most malice, but I bit my cheek and put them both into “time-out.”
Two year olds really don’t have a firm grip on reality yet.
I just about blew a gasket the time I walked in on her in the bathroom. A puddle of #1, plenty of #2 smeared across the floor (that I’d scrubbed just a couple hours before), and her pull-up stuffed in the toilet. She was either trying to flush it or scrub it out- I was to fuming to be able to tell for sure. Of course, after I’d given her a bath and cleaned up her mess it dawned on me that this was a good thing, it means that she’s STARTING to catch on to the whole potty-training thing we’d been working on, she just wasn’t entirely clear on the concept just yet.
Then there was the time my parents called from Phoenix. It used to be that she’s listen for a minute or two, press some buttons and drop the phone. Now she gleefully chatters away for nearly a half an hour. Recently she decided to give them a tour of the house (remember, this is by phone).
She held the phone out at arms length and told them “These my books,” walked over to the television, made sure the phone was looking at the screen and told them “Arthur’s on,” then pointed the phone at a clothe basket, “these my clowths.”
I suppose that these days some of you may have those new phones with miniaturized digital cameras in them, but I can assure you, Ellie's Grandma was thoroughly confused.
Like I said, two year olds really don’t have a firm grip on reality yet. But then again, sometimes, they say things that are remarkably profound.
“Da-aad,” Ellie sang my name to get my attention so I knew she was about share something important with me, “Umm, Dad, ummm..”
“What is it honey?” I coaxed.
“Um, maybe someday,” she paused, what? Maybe someday we can go to the park? “umm, maybe someday when you gwow up YOU can be wittle too!”
Sometimes two-year old logic perplexes me so I tested her for clarification. They call this “active listening” in teacher biz, I call it repeating what people just said to you, Ellie does it a lot so turnabout is fair play.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, “when I grow up, maybe I can be little too? Like you?”
“Yeah, when you gwow up you can be wittle too!” she promised. I’m looking forward to it.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
I thought you guys should know, you were like family to him, especially Rosie & Moe. His brother says that in lieu of cards or flowers, a memorial fund will be established to buy a new fish and/or tank for the new Art Room in Boyer Valley South. I'm really sorry that you have to hear it this way, it's so impersonal, but when I asked him months ago if he ever thought about making out a will he just flared his fins ant me like he was pissed off or something and stared at me.
Anyway, I thought you should know- Coach
Obituary
Scotty Jim Jake “Linus” Betaphish, age 2, passed away Friday, June 25, 2004, in his home in Charter Oak, IA. An apparent suicide, he was found stuck under a rock in his tank. He had been depressed since losing his favorite plant the last time his tank was cleaned. Police have not yet ruled conclusively on the suicide, the dead plant residue may have effected the pH balance of the tank, or the rock may have just wiggled enough to fall on him. Foul play has not been ruled out.
Graduated from Muskingum College in 1949. He served as a CPA with the Internal Revenue Service, in Ohio for 31 years. No, that’s not true, we just made that up.
He is survived by his brother, Alpha Betaphish, who lives in a Peace Lilly in someone’s bathroom on a farm outside of Charter Oak.
Memorial Services will be offered Wednesday June 30, 2004 at 10:30AM at St. Auquaman and all Mermaids’ Church, 9728 Palmeras Dr., Sun City, AZ.
Anyway, I thought you should know- Coach
Obituary
Scotty Jim Jake “Linus” Betaphish, age 2, passed away Friday, June 25, 2004, in his home in Charter Oak, IA. An apparent suicide, he was found stuck under a rock in his tank. He had been depressed since losing his favorite plant the last time his tank was cleaned. Police have not yet ruled conclusively on the suicide, the dead plant residue may have effected the pH balance of the tank, or the rock may have just wiggled enough to fall on him. Foul play has not been ruled out.
Graduated from Muskingum College in 1949. He served as a CPA with the Internal Revenue Service, in Ohio for 31 years. No, that’s not true, we just made that up.
He is survived by his brother, Alpha Betaphish, who lives in a Peace Lilly in someone’s bathroom on a farm outside of Charter Oak.
Memorial Services will be offered Wednesday June 30, 2004 at 10:30AM at St. Auquaman and all Mermaids’ Church, 9728 Palmeras Dr., Sun City, AZ.
Advice on your 228th Birthday
by Poor Richard Saunders (A.K.A. Ben Franklin, guest of Mr. Ted Mallory)
Seeing as I am a good seventy years your elder, I’d like to pass on some advice. Not that I’m so wise, but frankly, I’ve noticed that you seem to be going through a bit of a mid-life crisis lately.
Before my 214 year-long sabbatical from writing I often advocated seven virtues:
1. An aversion to tyranny
A tyrant wields their power unjustly and arbitrarily. Tyrants seek absolute power. They assume they are above reproach and beyond scrutiny. Be vigilant against collective tyrants- for a tyrant may be a movement or a way of thinking just as easily as it may be a person.
Don’t let your leaders taste too much power for too long, lest they glut themselves upon it at the expense of your liberties. “Throw the bums out, I say. It may be perfectly responsible to vote against all incumbents on occasion, regardless of their party or what good they have done in office. In order to work right democracy needs balance. Balance is achieved by what scientists call “dynamic tension,” I call it change and struggle.
A hallmark of middle-age is becoming just like your parents. When you think you’ve lost your way, think back to how Britain treated you, and make sure you don’t behave that same way toward others.
2. A Free press
It could be your best defense against tyranny. Unfortunately reporters have become parasites. They don’t challenge politicians because they don’t want to be cut off.
Today’s media is a slave to money. In my day, journalism was a public service, today it’s big business. Rather than covering what’s important, they cover what sells.
3. A sense of humor
If you laugh about your faults before your adversaries even have a chance to point them out, you have disarmed them. When you take yourself too seriously you fall under the tyranny of your own self righteousness.
Of course, a spoonful of sugar also helps the medicine go down. People are much more likely to listen and learn, even be persuaded if they’re also given a laugh.
4. Humility
What makes you think you know everything there is to know and that you are always right about everything? “Pride goeth before the fall.” If I truly believe that “All men are created equal,” then I have no right to think that anyone is beneath me. Jesus himself chose to be the servant of all. Perhaps we’d do well to imitate him more closely.
5. A healthy balance of idealism and realism
Pray like it all depends on God, then work like it all depends on you. Practical people base their decisions on observation, evidence and what works. If you base your decisions on your passions, you’ll shipwreck your life. On the other hand, people without principles are like ships without anchors. Nature demands balance. What good is it to try to fly a kite without holding onto it by a string?
Richard Nixon was effective, but unprincipled. Jimmy Carter has noble character, but people perceive him as ineffective. Besides, one person’s ideas always seem to be at odds with someone else’s. If one believes in civil rights and social justice, another will believe in state’s rights and criminal justice. Both will accuse the other of being immoral.
As Scripture says, “be shrewd as serpents yet as innocent as doves.”
6. Compromise
People don’t remember that Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence that slavery was immoral and should end. Southern Congressmen refused to pass the Declaration unless we removed that paragraph. John Adams was fit to be tied! I’d been against slavery for decades, but I had to convince Jefferson and Adams to let it go. Compromise is an ugly business and there are certainly times to stand your ground, but more good has been done by compromise than by bull-headed stubbornness.
7. Tolerance
Why has this become such a dirty word lately? There wouldn’t be a Fourth of July if we hadn’t compromised on slavery. The self-righteous New Englanders had to tolerate the self-righteous Southerners and vice versa. We all have the same Maker, alike objects of His care, equally designed for happiness, whether plantation-owning pompous-asses or Boston fish-wipes! If we are to get anywhere in this life we must agree to disagree and allow each other to peacefully coexist.
Only when you start with the assumption that everyman is your equal can you begin to talk about what ideas and policies are right and wrong, rather than which person or group is good and bad. Then maybe we’ll live up to our motto- “E Pluribus Unum,” one from many.
Let the Maker sort out the good from the bad, that’s not our place but His anyway. Trust that in due time He’ll intervene on behalf of just causes, just as He did for the cause of American Independence.
Happy Birthday, old girl!
Your friend and servant,
R Saunders
Seeing as I am a good seventy years your elder, I’d like to pass on some advice. Not that I’m so wise, but frankly, I’ve noticed that you seem to be going through a bit of a mid-life crisis lately.
Before my 214 year-long sabbatical from writing I often advocated seven virtues:
1. An aversion to tyranny
A tyrant wields their power unjustly and arbitrarily. Tyrants seek absolute power. They assume they are above reproach and beyond scrutiny. Be vigilant against collective tyrants- for a tyrant may be a movement or a way of thinking just as easily as it may be a person.
Don’t let your leaders taste too much power for too long, lest they glut themselves upon it at the expense of your liberties. “Throw the bums out, I say. It may be perfectly responsible to vote against all incumbents on occasion, regardless of their party or what good they have done in office. In order to work right democracy needs balance. Balance is achieved by what scientists call “dynamic tension,” I call it change and struggle.
A hallmark of middle-age is becoming just like your parents. When you think you’ve lost your way, think back to how Britain treated you, and make sure you don’t behave that same way toward others.
2. A Free press
It could be your best defense against tyranny. Unfortunately reporters have become parasites. They don’t challenge politicians because they don’t want to be cut off.
Today’s media is a slave to money. In my day, journalism was a public service, today it’s big business. Rather than covering what’s important, they cover what sells.
3. A sense of humor
If you laugh about your faults before your adversaries even have a chance to point them out, you have disarmed them. When you take yourself too seriously you fall under the tyranny of your own self righteousness.
Of course, a spoonful of sugar also helps the medicine go down. People are much more likely to listen and learn, even be persuaded if they’re also given a laugh.
4. Humility
What makes you think you know everything there is to know and that you are always right about everything? “Pride goeth before the fall.” If I truly believe that “All men are created equal,” then I have no right to think that anyone is beneath me. Jesus himself chose to be the servant of all. Perhaps we’d do well to imitate him more closely.
5. A healthy balance of idealism and realism
Pray like it all depends on God, then work like it all depends on you. Practical people base their decisions on observation, evidence and what works. If you base your decisions on your passions, you’ll shipwreck your life. On the other hand, people without principles are like ships without anchors. Nature demands balance. What good is it to try to fly a kite without holding onto it by a string?
Richard Nixon was effective, but unprincipled. Jimmy Carter has noble character, but people perceive him as ineffective. Besides, one person’s ideas always seem to be at odds with someone else’s. If one believes in civil rights and social justice, another will believe in state’s rights and criminal justice. Both will accuse the other of being immoral.
As Scripture says, “be shrewd as serpents yet as innocent as doves.”
6. Compromise
People don’t remember that Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence that slavery was immoral and should end. Southern Congressmen refused to pass the Declaration unless we removed that paragraph. John Adams was fit to be tied! I’d been against slavery for decades, but I had to convince Jefferson and Adams to let it go. Compromise is an ugly business and there are certainly times to stand your ground, but more good has been done by compromise than by bull-headed stubbornness.
7. Tolerance
Why has this become such a dirty word lately? There wouldn’t be a Fourth of July if we hadn’t compromised on slavery. The self-righteous New Englanders had to tolerate the self-righteous Southerners and vice versa. We all have the same Maker, alike objects of His care, equally designed for happiness, whether plantation-owning pompous-asses or Boston fish-wipes! If we are to get anywhere in this life we must agree to disagree and allow each other to peacefully coexist.
Only when you start with the assumption that everyman is your equal can you begin to talk about what ideas and policies are right and wrong, rather than which person or group is good and bad. Then maybe we’ll live up to our motto- “E Pluribus Unum,” one from many.
Let the Maker sort out the good from the bad, that’s not our place but His anyway. Trust that in due time He’ll intervene on behalf of just causes, just as He did for the cause of American Independence.
Happy Birthday, old girl!
Your friend and servant,
R Saunders
Thursday, June 24, 2004
The Catsup Conspiracy
In Washington, at the September 11th Commission hearings they’re talking about establishing yet another layer of bureaucracy. They want to make sure that the various agencies with access to information about terrorism speak to each other. You’d think that the DEA, ATF, FBI and various branches of Military Intelligence would already report to the Central Intelligence Agency- thus the useful adjective “Central,” as in “it should all come through one central office.”
Post 9-11, you’d think that they’d all report to the department of Homeland Security. Really, since the National Security Council operates out of the White House basement, shouldn’t they all report there?
But no, in their infinite wisdom, Washington wonks want to set up another agency which all other agency will report to. I’m all for all of these agencies sharing what they know about terrorism with each other, but I’m beginning to lose faith in government bureaucracy.
Don’t get me wrong, in my view, we are all our government, and it is a practical tool, not some great evil to be eliminated like some way-right wingers seem to think (the militia men back in the woods of Idaho.) but just because I lean toward FDR, rather than Ronald Reagan, doesn’t mean I don’t get fed up too. Democracy is a human institution and forgive me for not being as much of a die hard optimist as Reagan was, but my Lutheran upbringing tells me that human nature is selfish and short sighted to say the least.
It is because of our sinful human nature that the cost of liberty is eternal vigilance. We must not only be vigil against terrorists, but against pork barrel special interest as well. But I’m not here to rant about Haliburton’s profiteering, or gross abuses of Pentagon contracts. You’d think as a Democrat, I’d call an end to pharmaceutical advertising on television and in magazines because that little bit of deregulation has resulted in skyrocketing health care and insurance costs. No, I’m ticked off at… well to be honest I’m not sure who to be ticked off at. It’s either the FDA or the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge people whoever they are.
Here’s why I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to diet anymore…
French fries are officially considered vegetables. Did you hear this? What’s more, FROZEN French fries are as of a week ago, officially recognized by the U.S. government as FRESH vegetables. What the heck?!
It’s amazing that such a decision was made, first of all “French” fries are unpatriotic because France opposed a pre-emptive war in Iraq. What’s more, French fries definitely off the Atkins diet. They’re practically 100% carbs.
This Atkins thing is out of control. I won’t be surprised if the FDA doesn’t change the nutrition pyramid by removing the entire breads, pastas, and cereals tier. Doctor Atkins will no doubt be awarded a medal of freedom posthumously or named honorary surgeon general.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for weight loss- God knows I’ve tried. I’m all for French fries too, maybe that’s why I’m so worked up about this- you can’t be pro-weight loss and pro-French fries, it just doesn’t work- even on Atkins, and that’s pretty much the fat, lazy, self-indulgent, man’s diet (excuse me, lifestyle change.) Believe me, I’m a fat, lazy, self-indulgent guy, this is one reason I’m not keen on Atkins, it would deny me my French fries.
I’ve thought about Slim-Fast, talk about not working with the whole self-indulgent thing. My biggest problem is that whole liquid diet scare back in the 1970’s where people died of kidney failure. Slim-fast is definitely not a BALANCED diet, nor a balanced lifestyle.
I’ve thought about pills like Metabalife or Cortislim, but there was that whole scare in the 90’s with the aphedra thing where people were dying of heart failure. If I wanted to pop pills I’d just go all the way and start taking “speed” or some other form of meth or amphedamines like Rush Limbaugh- mind you, it worked for him, he lost a ton of weight, but I’d end up dead or in jail, not back on the air and in the President and House Speaker’s offices like Rush.
I’ve tried the low fat diet, where you don’t buy anything with more than 9 grams of fat on the ingredients, but you know what, that just let me be overindulgent with the pasta. Years ago I tried a sort of precursor to Atkins called Sugar Busters- it worked great, must have lost 25 pounds or more. Basically you didn’t buy anything if sugar or high fructose corn syrup was in the first four ingredients. Of course I was exercising every day too. There was a pool at our condominium complex.
It wasn’t easy, this was before every beer maker, grocery store and fast food restaurant was bending over backwards to cater to low carb dieters. Even in Southern California it was difficult. A small chain of grease spots called “Fat Burger” had best French fries. Mmmmm. Fortunately, we lived around the corner from a health food store. I really began to enjoy tofu and salmon.
I’ve seen lots of people have phenomenal weight loss with Atkins, anywhere from 10 to 120 pounds. But lets face it, the proof of the pudding is under the crust (mmmm, pudding). My point is that it hasn’t been on the seen to see the long term effects. Can people ever gradually go from hard core carbophobics back to balance without gaining all their weight back? Will it clog up the arteries and cause heart damage and high cholesterol?
The only real way to lose weight is to eat less and to exercise more. The only way to keep the weight off is to KEEP eating less than everybody else and exercising more than you would if you didn’t deliberately discipline yourself to do so- for the rest of your life. These are all things that I hate to admit, but I have a real aversion too.
But here’s where I get both the Republicans and the Democrats mad. It’s all part of some elaborate plot for the “powers-that-be” to control the world and keep us all preoccupied with our waist lines so we won’t notice what they’re trying to do. Follow the connections…
Reagan has Catsup declared a vegetable back in the 1980’s. His successor’s son, Bush Jr. declares French fries and frozen French fries vegetables, then he’s replaced by Kerry- who was in the same fraternity at Yale with Bush Jr. Kerry’s wife, HAPPENS to be heiress to the Heintz Catsup dynasty. All just a coincidence? I don’t THINK so!!!
Post 9-11, you’d think that they’d all report to the department of Homeland Security. Really, since the National Security Council operates out of the White House basement, shouldn’t they all report there?
But no, in their infinite wisdom, Washington wonks want to set up another agency which all other agency will report to. I’m all for all of these agencies sharing what they know about terrorism with each other, but I’m beginning to lose faith in government bureaucracy.
Don’t get me wrong, in my view, we are all our government, and it is a practical tool, not some great evil to be eliminated like some way-right wingers seem to think (the militia men back in the woods of Idaho.) but just because I lean toward FDR, rather than Ronald Reagan, doesn’t mean I don’t get fed up too. Democracy is a human institution and forgive me for not being as much of a die hard optimist as Reagan was, but my Lutheran upbringing tells me that human nature is selfish and short sighted to say the least.
It is because of our sinful human nature that the cost of liberty is eternal vigilance. We must not only be vigil against terrorists, but against pork barrel special interest as well. But I’m not here to rant about Haliburton’s profiteering, or gross abuses of Pentagon contracts. You’d think as a Democrat, I’d call an end to pharmaceutical advertising on television and in magazines because that little bit of deregulation has resulted in skyrocketing health care and insurance costs. No, I’m ticked off at… well to be honest I’m not sure who to be ticked off at. It’s either the FDA or the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge people whoever they are.
Here’s why I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to diet anymore…
French fries are officially considered vegetables. Did you hear this? What’s more, FROZEN French fries are as of a week ago, officially recognized by the U.S. government as FRESH vegetables. What the heck?!
It’s amazing that such a decision was made, first of all “French” fries are unpatriotic because France opposed a pre-emptive war in Iraq. What’s more, French fries definitely off the Atkins diet. They’re practically 100% carbs.
This Atkins thing is out of control. I won’t be surprised if the FDA doesn’t change the nutrition pyramid by removing the entire breads, pastas, and cereals tier. Doctor Atkins will no doubt be awarded a medal of freedom posthumously or named honorary surgeon general.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for weight loss- God knows I’ve tried. I’m all for French fries too, maybe that’s why I’m so worked up about this- you can’t be pro-weight loss and pro-French fries, it just doesn’t work- even on Atkins, and that’s pretty much the fat, lazy, self-indulgent, man’s diet (excuse me, lifestyle change.) Believe me, I’m a fat, lazy, self-indulgent guy, this is one reason I’m not keen on Atkins, it would deny me my French fries.
I’ve thought about Slim-Fast, talk about not working with the whole self-indulgent thing. My biggest problem is that whole liquid diet scare back in the 1970’s where people died of kidney failure. Slim-fast is definitely not a BALANCED diet, nor a balanced lifestyle.
I’ve thought about pills like Metabalife or Cortislim, but there was that whole scare in the 90’s with the aphedra thing where people were dying of heart failure. If I wanted to pop pills I’d just go all the way and start taking “speed” or some other form of meth or amphedamines like Rush Limbaugh- mind you, it worked for him, he lost a ton of weight, but I’d end up dead or in jail, not back on the air and in the President and House Speaker’s offices like Rush.
I’ve tried the low fat diet, where you don’t buy anything with more than 9 grams of fat on the ingredients, but you know what, that just let me be overindulgent with the pasta. Years ago I tried a sort of precursor to Atkins called Sugar Busters- it worked great, must have lost 25 pounds or more. Basically you didn’t buy anything if sugar or high fructose corn syrup was in the first four ingredients. Of course I was exercising every day too. There was a pool at our condominium complex.
It wasn’t easy, this was before every beer maker, grocery store and fast food restaurant was bending over backwards to cater to low carb dieters. Even in Southern California it was difficult. A small chain of grease spots called “Fat Burger” had best French fries. Mmmmm. Fortunately, we lived around the corner from a health food store. I really began to enjoy tofu and salmon.
I’ve seen lots of people have phenomenal weight loss with Atkins, anywhere from 10 to 120 pounds. But lets face it, the proof of the pudding is under the crust (mmmm, pudding). My point is that it hasn’t been on the seen to see the long term effects. Can people ever gradually go from hard core carbophobics back to balance without gaining all their weight back? Will it clog up the arteries and cause heart damage and high cholesterol?
The only real way to lose weight is to eat less and to exercise more. The only way to keep the weight off is to KEEP eating less than everybody else and exercising more than you would if you didn’t deliberately discipline yourself to do so- for the rest of your life. These are all things that I hate to admit, but I have a real aversion too.
But here’s where I get both the Republicans and the Democrats mad. It’s all part of some elaborate plot for the “powers-that-be” to control the world and keep us all preoccupied with our waist lines so we won’t notice what they’re trying to do. Follow the connections…
Reagan has Catsup declared a vegetable back in the 1980’s. His successor’s son, Bush Jr. declares French fries and frozen French fries vegetables, then he’s replaced by Kerry- who was in the same fraternity at Yale with Bush Jr. Kerry’s wife, HAPPENS to be heiress to the Heintz Catsup dynasty. All just a coincidence? I don’t THINK so!!!
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Giant eyes and frozen banana elevators
“I like how you handled the thing between the girls,” Bethany commented to me about my column as we were driving home in the van last week after dropping Ellen off at her grandparent’s house to spend the night. We would have to get up before five the next morning in order to get her older sister, Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight. (if you read last week’s column, you should have Déjà vu by now, don’t worry, this week’s column is actually about something, so keep reading).
This was going to be hard. It was hard because Grace had been lobbying to spend the night at their grandparents for several weeks and now Ellie actually got to do it. It was going to be hard because you aren’t supposed to eat anything the night before a surgery. The only thing harder than trying to get a five year old to eat is trying to prevent them from eating. It was going to be hard because she’d be scared to death so she wouldn’t sleep, she’d have anxious nightmares. It was going to be hard, I just knew it.
What did I know. Grace was so excited and wound up about her adventure and all the special attention she was getting, that you’d think the next day was going to be Christmas!
Her father on the other hand more than made up for her optimism with his neurotic, paranoid, parental worst-case-scenarioism. I played out in my mind what it would be like to lose her so young. As I walked her up to bed to tuck her in she climed the stairs ahead of me, backwards,
“Come on Daddy, I’m gonna beat you!” she taunted.
It was like she was on her way to Heaven. I couldn’t take it, it really got the worry juices going in my brain. Naturally I said some extra prayers that night, and solicited prayers from practically everyone in my email address book.
Getting up before five the next morning in order to get Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight was hard. Really hard. I mean, come on, we’re teachers and this is summer for crying out loud. On top of that Ellen is usually our alarm clock- every morning at seven there she is by the side of the bed, patting you on the side and grinning at you sideways. Therefore, having her at her Grammy’s house meant no wake-up call.
Somehow we dragged our selves out of bed and brought the patient, (still in her pajamas) her stuffed dog, “Doc,” and her Spiderman blanket to the van for the dawn journey to the big town (Denison).
It did feel sort of like a vacation, hitting the road on a cool damp morning. The hills were typically gorgeous.
“Oh, it’s so bootifool,” sighed Grace.
She really was getting spoiled. A spacious, quiet, private room in the back of the ICU. She quickly settled in. The nurse briefed her on the remote. What a remote! Not only could she change the channel and adjust the volume on the cable TV, but she could turn the lights on and off and move the bed up and down and change it’s angles. This is WAY too much power for a five year old. Incidentally, Denison Cable has a lot more channels then Charter Oaks. Not that this mattered to Grace, she pretty well watched the same things she always watches- the Wiggles, Dora the Explorer, Spongebob.
In comes nurse after nurse and anesthesiologists to tell us what would happen, what Doctor Crabb would do, and what to expect afterwards. Two hours flew by. I mention this because when both of our girls were born, now hour ever flew by in the hospital. Hours became days and days weeks, until by the time the kid’s born, you feel like you’ve just spent half the year in the hospital. Its no wonder new parents always say “I can’t remember what life was like with out (put child’s name here).” Hospital stays for adults are so grueling that it seems like there was no life before, no reality outside of the hospital, only the Purgatory of the hospital and whatever your new glorious after life happens to be.
Then I swear that the time Bethany and I were in the waiting room was even quicker. It seemed like no sooner were we kissing her goodbye and begging God not to taker her as they wheeled her into the OR then Doctor Crabb was gabbing with us about how huger her adenoids had been and how good she was doing and “how quickly these little kids bounce back…”
Whew. Thank you Jesus.
Oh, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a Purgatory for us adults. We were dying of hunger, so while Grace was in recovery, we thought we’d visit the snack bar. Not open. “It’s run by volunteers, and sometimes they have a hard time finding volunteers,” said a person in white shoes and hospitally looking clothes.
Okay, we’ll drop down to the cafeteria. Crawford County Memorial’s one elevator has these dark brown doors, but when it opens up the interior is sort of a yellow faux finish thing. It reminded me of a chocolate covered frozen banana. This made me more hungry. I was looking forward to some soggy scrambled eggs or dietarily correct French toast with an apple sauce cup like hospitals serve.
I think that there must be a law somewhere that says that hospitals have to be easy to get lost in and that at least one floor in any hospital has to be bare and institutional and intimidating. Even warm, intimate little Crawford County Memorial has a floor like that. The basement, which of course is basically the “bowls” of the place- laundry rooms, storage, dishroom, ah, here it is, the cafeteria…which doesn’t open till noon.
So back up to Grace’s room we went. 6 AM to 6 PM is what someone told us who’d had their child’s tonsils out. Sure enough. Poor kid, she was zonked all day. Anytime a nurse came to check on her or she had a visitor so that she had to wake up, her eyes got as big as quarters as if she were a deer in the headlights. It was so impressive that it became the talk of the staff.
She slept most of the day. This of course was rather dull for we adults. It was worst for me because of my Attention Deficit Dilemma. At least Denison cable has Country Music Television (hin- hint Tip Top Communications!)
Bethany was kind to me and “gave me errands,” so I could leave and come back when the cabin fever got too much for me.
This meant that I figured out how to get around the hospital. Of course, they’re remodeling, so next time I’ll be lost again.
That chocolate banana elevator? It can hold 23 people. Unbelievable, its the size of a broom closet- can’t be more than 9X12. 3,500 pound maximum load. That means 23 people who are 152 pounds each. Gawd, I wish I was only 152 pounds, geez I must have been in seventh grade when I weighed that little. They’d have to all be that skinny to fit 23 of them in that little box!
One errand was Graces prescriptions, one was lunch, one was toys for when she woke up. This was unnecessary. As much as I loved the chance to spoil her, she got stuff from her cousins, stuff from her grandparents and stuff from the hospital- sort of a McDonald’s Happy Meal of crayons, a Cup and various sundries. None of these things meant much to her since she was sleeping or in pain and wanting to sleep all day.
The funnest thing for her was when the nurse clipped a sensor onto her finger to check her pulse and measure the hemoglobins (Oxygen levels) in her blood. Hers was at 98%, very good. Mine was 99%, amazing with all the allergies and asthma, coughing, hacking and snorting that I do. The nurse told me that if Bethany’s level was 100% I had to take her shopping in Council Bluffs. It was, I think he had the thing rigged.
Anyway Grace is doing fine. She wanted to play in the sprinkler by that Sunday and she’s loved all the snow cones and Popsicles. Thanks for your prayers and you support.
This was going to be hard. It was hard because Grace had been lobbying to spend the night at their grandparents for several weeks and now Ellie actually got to do it. It was going to be hard because you aren’t supposed to eat anything the night before a surgery. The only thing harder than trying to get a five year old to eat is trying to prevent them from eating. It was going to be hard because she’d be scared to death so she wouldn’t sleep, she’d have anxious nightmares. It was going to be hard, I just knew it.
What did I know. Grace was so excited and wound up about her adventure and all the special attention she was getting, that you’d think the next day was going to be Christmas!
Her father on the other hand more than made up for her optimism with his neurotic, paranoid, parental worst-case-scenarioism. I played out in my mind what it would be like to lose her so young. As I walked her up to bed to tuck her in she climed the stairs ahead of me, backwards,
“Come on Daddy, I’m gonna beat you!” she taunted.
It was like she was on her way to Heaven. I couldn’t take it, it really got the worry juices going in my brain. Naturally I said some extra prayers that night, and solicited prayers from practically everyone in my email address book.
Getting up before five the next morning in order to get Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight was hard. Really hard. I mean, come on, we’re teachers and this is summer for crying out loud. On top of that Ellen is usually our alarm clock- every morning at seven there she is by the side of the bed, patting you on the side and grinning at you sideways. Therefore, having her at her Grammy’s house meant no wake-up call.
Somehow we dragged our selves out of bed and brought the patient, (still in her pajamas) her stuffed dog, “Doc,” and her Spiderman blanket to the van for the dawn journey to the big town (Denison).
It did feel sort of like a vacation, hitting the road on a cool damp morning. The hills were typically gorgeous.
“Oh, it’s so bootifool,” sighed Grace.
She really was getting spoiled. A spacious, quiet, private room in the back of the ICU. She quickly settled in. The nurse briefed her on the remote. What a remote! Not only could she change the channel and adjust the volume on the cable TV, but she could turn the lights on and off and move the bed up and down and change it’s angles. This is WAY too much power for a five year old. Incidentally, Denison Cable has a lot more channels then Charter Oaks. Not that this mattered to Grace, she pretty well watched the same things she always watches- the Wiggles, Dora the Explorer, Spongebob.
In comes nurse after nurse and anesthesiologists to tell us what would happen, what Doctor Crabb would do, and what to expect afterwards. Two hours flew by. I mention this because when both of our girls were born, now hour ever flew by in the hospital. Hours became days and days weeks, until by the time the kid’s born, you feel like you’ve just spent half the year in the hospital. Its no wonder new parents always say “I can’t remember what life was like with out (put child’s name here).” Hospital stays for adults are so grueling that it seems like there was no life before, no reality outside of the hospital, only the Purgatory of the hospital and whatever your new glorious after life happens to be.
Then I swear that the time Bethany and I were in the waiting room was even quicker. It seemed like no sooner were we kissing her goodbye and begging God not to taker her as they wheeled her into the OR then Doctor Crabb was gabbing with us about how huger her adenoids had been and how good she was doing and “how quickly these little kids bounce back…”
Whew. Thank you Jesus.
Oh, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a Purgatory for us adults. We were dying of hunger, so while Grace was in recovery, we thought we’d visit the snack bar. Not open. “It’s run by volunteers, and sometimes they have a hard time finding volunteers,” said a person in white shoes and hospitally looking clothes.
Okay, we’ll drop down to the cafeteria. Crawford County Memorial’s one elevator has these dark brown doors, but when it opens up the interior is sort of a yellow faux finish thing. It reminded me of a chocolate covered frozen banana. This made me more hungry. I was looking forward to some soggy scrambled eggs or dietarily correct French toast with an apple sauce cup like hospitals serve.
I think that there must be a law somewhere that says that hospitals have to be easy to get lost in and that at least one floor in any hospital has to be bare and institutional and intimidating. Even warm, intimate little Crawford County Memorial has a floor like that. The basement, which of course is basically the “bowls” of the place- laundry rooms, storage, dishroom, ah, here it is, the cafeteria…which doesn’t open till noon.
So back up to Grace’s room we went. 6 AM to 6 PM is what someone told us who’d had their child’s tonsils out. Sure enough. Poor kid, she was zonked all day. Anytime a nurse came to check on her or she had a visitor so that she had to wake up, her eyes got as big as quarters as if she were a deer in the headlights. It was so impressive that it became the talk of the staff.
She slept most of the day. This of course was rather dull for we adults. It was worst for me because of my Attention Deficit Dilemma. At least Denison cable has Country Music Television (hin- hint Tip Top Communications!)
Bethany was kind to me and “gave me errands,” so I could leave and come back when the cabin fever got too much for me.
This meant that I figured out how to get around the hospital. Of course, they’re remodeling, so next time I’ll be lost again.
That chocolate banana elevator? It can hold 23 people. Unbelievable, its the size of a broom closet- can’t be more than 9X12. 3,500 pound maximum load. That means 23 people who are 152 pounds each. Gawd, I wish I was only 152 pounds, geez I must have been in seventh grade when I weighed that little. They’d have to all be that skinny to fit 23 of them in that little box!
One errand was Graces prescriptions, one was lunch, one was toys for when she woke up. This was unnecessary. As much as I loved the chance to spoil her, she got stuff from her cousins, stuff from her grandparents and stuff from the hospital- sort of a McDonald’s Happy Meal of crayons, a Cup and various sundries. None of these things meant much to her since she was sleeping or in pain and wanting to sleep all day.
The funnest thing for her was when the nurse clipped a sensor onto her finger to check her pulse and measure the hemoglobins (Oxygen levels) in her blood. Hers was at 98%, very good. Mine was 99%, amazing with all the allergies and asthma, coughing, hacking and snorting that I do. The nurse told me that if Bethany’s level was 100% I had to take her shopping in Council Bluffs. It was, I think he had the thing rigged.
Anyway Grace is doing fine. She wanted to play in the sprinkler by that Sunday and she’s loved all the snow cones and Popsicles. Thanks for your prayers and you support.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Pastor Gebhardt preaches
his farewell sermon this Sunday
Pastor L.C. Gebhardt is retiring after thirty –four years in the ministry and the past twenty-five years at St. John Lutheran Church in Charter Oak. Rev. Gebhardt will be giving his farewell sermon on Sunday, June 20th at 10:00 A.M.
On the following Sunday, June 27th, at 10:00 A.M. there will be a special worship service recognizing his years of service and retirement. The Preacher will be Rev. Seiveking, President of Iowa District West of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. The liturgist will be Rev. William Caughey. Caughey’s wife, Kris Sporeleader is a native of Charter Oak.
A farewell Dinner will follow the service and a program will begin at 1:00P.M.
Watch the NEWSpaper for more about the celebration next week.
Everyone is invited to attend both Sunday services.
his farewell sermon this Sunday
Pastor L.C. Gebhardt is retiring after thirty –four years in the ministry and the past twenty-five years at St. John Lutheran Church in Charter Oak. Rev. Gebhardt will be giving his farewell sermon on Sunday, June 20th at 10:00 A.M.
On the following Sunday, June 27th, at 10:00 A.M. there will be a special worship service recognizing his years of service and retirement. The Preacher will be Rev. Seiveking, President of Iowa District West of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. The liturgist will be Rev. William Caughey. Caughey’s wife, Kris Sporeleader is a native of Charter Oak.
A farewell Dinner will follow the service and a program will begin at 1:00P.M.
Watch the NEWSpaper for more about the celebration next week.
Everyone is invited to attend both Sunday services.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Not too much to write about
“I like how you handled the thing between the girls,” Bethany commented to me about my column as we were driving home in the van last week after dropping Ellen off at her grandparent’s house to spend the night. We would have to get up before five the next morning in order to get her older sister, Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight.
“Thanks,” I responded. She chuckled. Was it that cute a column or was it funny that I’d thank her for the encouragement. Or was it just funny that I tried to logic-and-reason/lecture/explain two preschoolers out of an argument caused by the older one not understanding that the younger one was just copying her every syllable?
“Heh,” she half laughed and half sighed, “It’s just that Gracie’s life is out there for the world to see, played out in the newspaper,” she contemplated. (or something to that effect, I may not be quoting her verbatim here…I suppose that’s why so many writers turn to fiction- because our memories aren’t good enough to maintain journalistic integrity so we make up what we didn’t remember accurately. That’s probably also why many humorists avoid writing about family- you know, that whole “never mix business with pleasure” thing or something like that. Who wants to offend your own family by writing about them? Am I right?).
“What ‘bout my life?” Gracie wondered as she leaned toward the front from her favorite spot in the middle of the very back seat.
“Doh,” I winced like Homer Simpson getting caught doing something dumb, “duh, well, uh…” I stammered. I figured it was safe to write about people who can’t read about themselves yet.
“Oh,” Beth jumped in to save me, “We were just talking about something you’re Daddy wrote about you and your sister in the NEWSpaper.” Okay, so she didn’t pronounce it so that ‘NEWS’ is in all capitals like it is on the nameplate- I just can’t get over typing it that way, I feel more official doing it that way.
“My sistah? In da Nooowspapah?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I just said something about how cute you were, you know, in that newspaper I write for?” I assured her. See? I CAN write the word “newspaper,” without writing “NEWS” in all caps. (Shouldn’t that be “ALL CAPS?”)
Apparently that satisfied her, that or the fact that she could see town coming into view.
“Chawter Ohwk! Our town, I seeee it, we home!” she announced.
“Great,” I thought. The gig id up. I’d better find someone else to write about from now on. Ellie had better start being a lot more funny, but what happens when she figures it out? We can’t afford to just keep having kids. It’s not like I’m Dave Barry or something, this column is just a hobby. Teachers don’t get paid enough to procreate just for the sake of writing material. Besides, thats like having kids just to harvest their organs or something, it’s sick. I’d just have to find some other muse.
Other peoples kids? Nah, nobody likes someone who makes fun of other people’s kids, that’s like being a bully or something. Bethany wouldn’t go for that Elementary Guidance Counselors hate bullies. They also hate hate, okay, they ABHOR bullies. She was an English major, maybe she’ll like a word like “abhor.” Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really esoteric words just to impress her.
Now I’ve done it, I actually used an obscure word like “esoteric” to describe words that are too hard to understand. DOH!- who uses words like “obscure,” that’s so oblique! DOH!
Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really fancy words just to impress her. Now I don’t explain that all three of those words basically mean that most people don’t use any of those three words, some people will be frustrated. Of course if I do explain that all three words pretty much mean the same thing, which is “hard to understand,” some people will be frustrated like I’m talking down to them, some will think I’m trying to sound smart, and some will think I ruined a punny line by analyzing it to death.
Too late. Using such arcane and cryptic language is really just a roundabout way of playing with words to take up time and space on the page. That last sentence was completely useless. When you were a kid and the teacher assigned you an essay that had to me so many words long, did you use too many redundant adverbs and adjectives to make it really, really long or very, very, super boring? I used run-on sentences. Or fragments. Drove ‘em nuts!
“Drove ‘em nuts!?” Can’t you just see a wagon full of pecans behind a tractor? Or maybe a bus load of mental patients? Ah, I crack myself up.
What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, so I don’t fell like I can write about the funny things my daughter says anymore, because basically, I’m afraid that someday I’ll embarrass her…Nah, what are the chances of THAT ever happening. ME embarrass HER? Ha!
It’s too bad too. Just before we left their house, my farmer-in-law Allan said “I suppose we’re going to read about this new adventure- getting her tonsils and adenoids out in that column of yours next week!?” (or something along those lines, I don’t write down everything everybody says to me word-for-word right when they say it. I hope he doesn’t get mad if I just misquoted him. Of course, my eighth grade English Teacher, Mr. Harman would say, “People don’t get ‘mad,’ DOGS GO ‘mad,’ PEOPLE GET angry.” Of course, he also told us that “Ain’t ain’t a word,” but by the time I got out of high school it had been added to the dictionary.)
Dang, I really haven’t written about anything this week have I?
Just then his wife stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going to bed?” she inquired incredulously, as if he were just wasting time on some frivolous hobby.
“I’m almost done,” actually I didn’t say that, I don’t exactly remember what I said.
“However long it is, cut it in half,” she advised, and left the room to go to bed.
Hmmf. I guess I’m lucky she’s not my editor.
So, the moral of the story is, never publish anything that you write about family.
Actually, tonsil and adenoid surgery isn’t all that funny anyway, especially not for the victim- eh, patient. But in case you wondered, Grace was a real trooper, but thank God for Tylenol. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of it next week. Thanks for reading.
The End. 1,132 words, not including these ones. The End, again.
If she could read this, I’m sure Grace would say, “Da-a-ad, Yoouw SILLY!” 1,152- if I counted right.
“Thanks,” I responded. She chuckled. Was it that cute a column or was it funny that I’d thank her for the encouragement. Or was it just funny that I tried to logic-and-reason/lecture/explain two preschoolers out of an argument caused by the older one not understanding that the younger one was just copying her every syllable?
“Heh,” she half laughed and half sighed, “It’s just that Gracie’s life is out there for the world to see, played out in the newspaper,” she contemplated. (or something to that effect, I may not be quoting her verbatim here…I suppose that’s why so many writers turn to fiction- because our memories aren’t good enough to maintain journalistic integrity so we make up what we didn’t remember accurately. That’s probably also why many humorists avoid writing about family- you know, that whole “never mix business with pleasure” thing or something like that. Who wants to offend your own family by writing about them? Am I right?).
“What ‘bout my life?” Gracie wondered as she leaned toward the front from her favorite spot in the middle of the very back seat.
“Doh,” I winced like Homer Simpson getting caught doing something dumb, “duh, well, uh…” I stammered. I figured it was safe to write about people who can’t read about themselves yet.
“Oh,” Beth jumped in to save me, “We were just talking about something you’re Daddy wrote about you and your sister in the NEWSpaper.” Okay, so she didn’t pronounce it so that ‘NEWS’ is in all capitals like it is on the nameplate- I just can’t get over typing it that way, I feel more official doing it that way.
“My sistah? In da Nooowspapah?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I just said something about how cute you were, you know, in that newspaper I write for?” I assured her. See? I CAN write the word “newspaper,” without writing “NEWS” in all caps. (Shouldn’t that be “ALL CAPS?”)
Apparently that satisfied her, that or the fact that she could see town coming into view.
“Chawter Ohwk! Our town, I seeee it, we home!” she announced.
“Great,” I thought. The gig id up. I’d better find someone else to write about from now on. Ellie had better start being a lot more funny, but what happens when she figures it out? We can’t afford to just keep having kids. It’s not like I’m Dave Barry or something, this column is just a hobby. Teachers don’t get paid enough to procreate just for the sake of writing material. Besides, thats like having kids just to harvest their organs or something, it’s sick. I’d just have to find some other muse.
Other peoples kids? Nah, nobody likes someone who makes fun of other people’s kids, that’s like being a bully or something. Bethany wouldn’t go for that Elementary Guidance Counselors hate bullies. They also hate hate, okay, they ABHOR bullies. She was an English major, maybe she’ll like a word like “abhor.” Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really esoteric words just to impress her.
Now I’ve done it, I actually used an obscure word like “esoteric” to describe words that are too hard to understand. DOH!- who uses words like “obscure,” that’s so oblique! DOH!
Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really fancy words just to impress her. Now I don’t explain that all three of those words basically mean that most people don’t use any of those three words, some people will be frustrated. Of course if I do explain that all three words pretty much mean the same thing, which is “hard to understand,” some people will be frustrated like I’m talking down to them, some will think I’m trying to sound smart, and some will think I ruined a punny line by analyzing it to death.
Too late. Using such arcane and cryptic language is really just a roundabout way of playing with words to take up time and space on the page. That last sentence was completely useless. When you were a kid and the teacher assigned you an essay that had to me so many words long, did you use too many redundant adverbs and adjectives to make it really, really long or very, very, super boring? I used run-on sentences. Or fragments. Drove ‘em nuts!
“Drove ‘em nuts!?” Can’t you just see a wagon full of pecans behind a tractor? Or maybe a bus load of mental patients? Ah, I crack myself up.
What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, so I don’t fell like I can write about the funny things my daughter says anymore, because basically, I’m afraid that someday I’ll embarrass her…Nah, what are the chances of THAT ever happening. ME embarrass HER? Ha!
It’s too bad too. Just before we left their house, my farmer-in-law Allan said “I suppose we’re going to read about this new adventure- getting her tonsils and adenoids out in that column of yours next week!?” (or something along those lines, I don’t write down everything everybody says to me word-for-word right when they say it. I hope he doesn’t get mad if I just misquoted him. Of course, my eighth grade English Teacher, Mr. Harman would say, “People don’t get ‘mad,’ DOGS GO ‘mad,’ PEOPLE GET angry.” Of course, he also told us that “Ain’t ain’t a word,” but by the time I got out of high school it had been added to the dictionary.)
Dang, I really haven’t written about anything this week have I?
Just then his wife stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going to bed?” she inquired incredulously, as if he were just wasting time on some frivolous hobby.
“I’m almost done,” actually I didn’t say that, I don’t exactly remember what I said.
“However long it is, cut it in half,” she advised, and left the room to go to bed.
Hmmf. I guess I’m lucky she’s not my editor.
So, the moral of the story is, never publish anything that you write about family.
Actually, tonsil and adenoid surgery isn’t all that funny anyway, especially not for the victim- eh, patient. But in case you wondered, Grace was a real trooper, but thank God for Tylenol. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of it next week. Thanks for reading.
The End. 1,132 words, not including these ones. The End, again.
If she could read this, I’m sure Grace would say, “Da-a-ad, Yoouw SILLY!” 1,152- if I counted right.
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