Most of the time, I am fascinated by multiple meanings, puzzles, and a variety of perspectives, but sometimes, we need to return to some basics.
I once heard a professor say that any one word in language is the only word that will properly fit into an intended meaning. If that is truth, then our culture is using language very destructively. We accept a variety of meanings to fit the needs of groups of people.
When someone lies when trying to be convincing to a group of people, they are said to be "spinning." If someone is greedy, we are often told "it's just business." Exaggeration is said to be hyperbole, and omitting elements of truth is "selecting information."
We are trying to run schools and colleges as though they were businesses. Education should be on the same plane of importance as other aspects of culture, and should not be controlled by something extraneous. Meanwhile kids and even adults are not learning how to be good citizens and well-rounded individuals. Business is only the means to achieve education, it should not be an end in itself.
Politics is not religion, even if people commit their lives to holding or serving public office. Religion needs to belong to individuals, then to groups of people of like beliefs. Politics is a long way from the individual benefits of religion. Politicians may say they are religious, but they may not act religiously. We need to decide whether it's more important to believe what is said or believe what we observe.
We have a superimposition of business, politics, religion and education and they do not blend well. Nevertheless, speech writers and public information personnel are paid to blur the parameters of each. Of course those four elements affect one another, but the effects should be more subtle than obvious.
Beneath those large groups that include education, business and politics, we have confusion of other words. If we observe social media, we can find examples of people discussing love when they are actually discussing sex. People see anything that is pleasing to the eye as beauty, but it goes beyond what we can see. Finally, people believe they are happy when they have everything they want, rather than all the things they need.
We need to stop being influenced by the desires of others to have success or importance. We need to listen to the words spoken, compare them to what they really mean and then carefully consider if the words make sense to what we know is truth.
Education is not business. Politics is not religion. Love is not sex. Beauty is not attractiveness. Happiness is not possessions.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Groan
When I was in my 50's, I had both knees replaced. It made be remember that my feet do not work.
Getting out of bed always reminds me that I will never again be free of aches and pains. But then, as I take my pills that ease some of those aches and pains, it occurs to me that the goal of each day is to see how well I can appear to feel good. It's not just old age, because many of the kinks in my body started years ago.
My feet started hurting when I was chasing my toddlers around the house. I remember buying "old lady shoes" in order to have some comfort. Athletic shoes were not on the market at that time for people other than those in professional sports. I think the last pair of spike heels I owned were the ones I wore at my wedding. Before that, I wore high heels to work every day. It should have been enough for me to be skinny and somewhat attractive. But, alas, it wasn't. I just had to add those spikes.
My knees are occasionally irritating, but the current medical forecast is for replacement hips. I'm not going to worry about that. As long as I can fold up into a sitting position, I think I'll be just fine.
My ankles were in bad shape even before my feet hurt, probably because I was a klutzy kid and was always turning them. My knees started hurting when I was in my 40's.
Now, my teeth hurt, my eyesight is not so sharp as it once was, and my hands and arms bruise as fast as food stains form on my shirt. My ears ring until I put on my hearing aids. The enviable news is that I have had no more than three or four headaches in my lifetime.
Most of the health issues I have turn out to be arthritis, and for that I am grateful. My father had rheumatoid arthritis and rarely complained. He finally moved off his acreage when he was 87, but I was told that the day before he moved he was driving post holes and setting a fence. I need to be like him, although I think I'll forget the post hole digging.
I need to stop complaining. I anticipate that I will have 20 or 30 more years of this. It shouldn't be about how bad I feel, but about how good I feel. Many people have physical conditions that are much worse. Each morning I need to celebrate that I actually can get out of bed.
Getting out of bed always reminds me that I will never again be free of aches and pains. But then, as I take my pills that ease some of those aches and pains, it occurs to me that the goal of each day is to see how well I can appear to feel good. It's not just old age, because many of the kinks in my body started years ago.
My feet started hurting when I was chasing my toddlers around the house. I remember buying "old lady shoes" in order to have some comfort. Athletic shoes were not on the market at that time for people other than those in professional sports. I think the last pair of spike heels I owned were the ones I wore at my wedding. Before that, I wore high heels to work every day. It should have been enough for me to be skinny and somewhat attractive. But, alas, it wasn't. I just had to add those spikes.
My knees are occasionally irritating, but the current medical forecast is for replacement hips. I'm not going to worry about that. As long as I can fold up into a sitting position, I think I'll be just fine.
My ankles were in bad shape even before my feet hurt, probably because I was a klutzy kid and was always turning them. My knees started hurting when I was in my 40's.
Now, my teeth hurt, my eyesight is not so sharp as it once was, and my hands and arms bruise as fast as food stains form on my shirt. My ears ring until I put on my hearing aids. The enviable news is that I have had no more than three or four headaches in my lifetime.
Most of the health issues I have turn out to be arthritis, and for that I am grateful. My father had rheumatoid arthritis and rarely complained. He finally moved off his acreage when he was 87, but I was told that the day before he moved he was driving post holes and setting a fence. I need to be like him, although I think I'll forget the post hole digging.
I need to stop complaining. I anticipate that I will have 20 or 30 more years of this. It shouldn't be about how bad I feel, but about how good I feel. Many people have physical conditions that are much worse. Each morning I need to celebrate that I actually can get out of bed.
Friday, December 19, 2014
The Day We Ruined Our Kids
I think it was 1976. Our two youngest kids were in a double stroller, and we had brought an umbrella stroller along just in case our older one got tired. It was a Sunday afternoon and we thought we'd do some quick holiday shopping and then go home to eat dinner.
We were on our way to the car, walking through Sears in Sioux City, which is now the location of the city's only skyscraper (actually only a cloud scraper), and spotted two TV sets that had joy sticks wired to them. Jay and I each picked up a joystick, wondering how this would work. It was exciting! It was challenging! It was really fun! Our oldest child whined at us and we unfolded the umbrella stroller. The two babies fussed and I dug out bottles for them. We took advantage of their quiet and continued to play.
Finally our oldest nearly screamed, "I want to go home!!!!" Both Jay and I looked around and there was no one in the store. We noticed that most of the lights were out, and we headed for the main door. It was locked. We nearly ran to a side door and came upon a security guard. He kindly led us to the back door which he unlocked so we could proceed to our car.
Neither of us had noticed the shoppers leaving, the doors closing, Santa leaving his chair, or the announcements that must have been made. We had fallen deeply into the coma induced by one of the first video games. Our children are now adults with children of their own, and they cannot resist a computer game. They have given them to their own children. We have noticed, perhaps because of our parental failing, that they time how long their own kids can play, and closely monitor the games that they play. But, after the kids are in bed, we suspect that they are drawn into that deep dark world that drew their parents in and created an example that influences their own lives. Then again - they probably don't remember at all!
We were on our way to the car, walking through Sears in Sioux City, which is now the location of the city's only skyscraper (actually only a cloud scraper), and spotted two TV sets that had joy sticks wired to them. Jay and I each picked up a joystick, wondering how this would work. It was exciting! It was challenging! It was really fun! Our oldest child whined at us and we unfolded the umbrella stroller. The two babies fussed and I dug out bottles for them. We took advantage of their quiet and continued to play.
Finally our oldest nearly screamed, "I want to go home!!!!" Both Jay and I looked around and there was no one in the store. We noticed that most of the lights were out, and we headed for the main door. It was locked. We nearly ran to a side door and came upon a security guard. He kindly led us to the back door which he unlocked so we could proceed to our car.
Neither of us had noticed the shoppers leaving, the doors closing, Santa leaving his chair, or the announcements that must have been made. We had fallen deeply into the coma induced by one of the first video games. Our children are now adults with children of their own, and they cannot resist a computer game. They have given them to their own children. We have noticed, perhaps because of our parental failing, that they time how long their own kids can play, and closely monitor the games that they play. But, after the kids are in bed, we suspect that they are drawn into that deep dark world that drew their parents in and created an example that influences their own lives. Then again - they probably don't remember at all!
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Putting Up (With) the Christmas Tree
I remember the excitement of decorating the Christmas Tree for the holidays, first as a child, and then as a young wife, and later when our children were growing up. Choosing the tree, putting on the strings of lights, choosing the exact placement of ornaments. It was so much fun.
As the years went by, it became more difficult to find a tree and fit it into or onto the car with the kids along, and it wasn't that much fun without them helping to choose just the right tree, so we resorted to an artificial tree. The ritual of decorating the tree was only slightly diminished.
Our front windows are two floors high, and so we eventually purchased a 12' ft. artificial tree, and that at first seemed like fun. The staircase is next to our annual placement of the tree, and so decorating its higher branches was not too much trouble.
The kids moved out, and we took in pets (five of them). The breadth of the bottom branches became a real nuisance as the tree became a curry comb for the collie, and a source of frantic playfulness for the cats as branches crossed their paths. We replaced the tree with another very tall tree, but of "slender" stature. Because I prefer to change the colors of the light strings from year to year, we choose an unlighted tree. As my age crept on, I discovered that garlands do not have to go around the tree, but can be hung from the top, so that they cascade vertically down the sides of the tree. The need for additional ornaments was a result of "vertical decoration", so they have been eliminated, as long as the treetop ornament is sufficient to cover all of the ends of the garlands.
This year, getting the tree out of storage, into the house, and assembled was a major project. With my husband and I working together, it took several hours just to get the tree standing in the living room. It stood for three days before I found the energy to hang the lights. Then it stood for another two days before I placed the decorations on it. I plan to take it down Christmas Day after the family and grandchildren leave.
We've decided. The tree has to go. Perhaps, after Christmas when they are on sale, we will purchase a six foot pre-lighted tree. For the years we will not have a Christmas celebration with grandchildren at our house, we'll probably elect to not have a Christmas Tree. Maybe we'll get one of those pre-lit, pre-decorated tree that pulls up from the center, although that seems like it could be intense exercise.
Well, smaller tree disposal can't be too difficult. Now, how do I get rid of the old one after Christmas?
As the years went by, it became more difficult to find a tree and fit it into or onto the car with the kids along, and it wasn't that much fun without them helping to choose just the right tree, so we resorted to an artificial tree. The ritual of decorating the tree was only slightly diminished.
Our front windows are two floors high, and so we eventually purchased a 12' ft. artificial tree, and that at first seemed like fun. The staircase is next to our annual placement of the tree, and so decorating its higher branches was not too much trouble.
The kids moved out, and we took in pets (five of them). The breadth of the bottom branches became a real nuisance as the tree became a curry comb for the collie, and a source of frantic playfulness for the cats as branches crossed their paths. We replaced the tree with another very tall tree, but of "slender" stature. Because I prefer to change the colors of the light strings from year to year, we choose an unlighted tree. As my age crept on, I discovered that garlands do not have to go around the tree, but can be hung from the top, so that they cascade vertically down the sides of the tree. The need for additional ornaments was a result of "vertical decoration", so they have been eliminated, as long as the treetop ornament is sufficient to cover all of the ends of the garlands.
This year, getting the tree out of storage, into the house, and assembled was a major project. With my husband and I working together, it took several hours just to get the tree standing in the living room. It stood for three days before I found the energy to hang the lights. Then it stood for another two days before I placed the decorations on it. I plan to take it down Christmas Day after the family and grandchildren leave.
We've decided. The tree has to go. Perhaps, after Christmas when they are on sale, we will purchase a six foot pre-lighted tree. For the years we will not have a Christmas celebration with grandchildren at our house, we'll probably elect to not have a Christmas Tree. Maybe we'll get one of those pre-lit, pre-decorated tree that pulls up from the center, although that seems like it could be intense exercise.
Well, smaller tree disposal can't be too difficult. Now, how do I get rid of the old one after Christmas?
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Peas
Here's
the thing about peas, which I really hated as a child, and only merely
dislike now unless they are fresh or frozen and cooked very slightly.
They are dark and dreary.
Imagine you are a child like I was: You can't even chew them because they mush up in your mouth. They taste like army green or dark greyish purple. They are like dirty hair or gray hairy bugs. They are like low notes in a minor key with a few wrong notes. Peas are not so bad by themselves, but the thought of them can make a child gag.
If you spill them on the floor even the dog, who will eat them, doesn't snarf them up, so you get caught dropping them on the floor. If you mush them up under the plate, Mom finds it in the dish water, which she finds ugly, (but not so ugly as you would find them if you actually ate them). Peas are grown-up food, because grown-ups have lost the sensitive perception to hate them.
Let's face it, most vegetables taste like their color. It's that color/sensory perception thing that has been studied scientifically in many ways. Green beans are okay when their green color is somewhat appealing. Carrots are okay when orange is considered okay. Cauliflower is not okay when they are perceived to be dirty green. A grey-green color leaches out of broccoli, cabbage, and brussel sprouts. And turnips are the color of dishwater. Corn is a bright, usually safe yellow, just as tomatoes are a bright, usually safe red.
Peas, to a child who hates them, are not worth anything. The nutritional value in peas is totally negated by the trauma of eating them.
Mommies trying to be smart try to package "nutritional" foods in cookies, brownies, or pizza. It sounds deceitful to me, and if, when I was a child, I found peas in my brownie, I would never eat a brownie again!
Imagine you are a child like I was: You can't even chew them because they mush up in your mouth. They taste like army green or dark greyish purple. They are like dirty hair or gray hairy bugs. They are like low notes in a minor key with a few wrong notes. Peas are not so bad by themselves, but the thought of them can make a child gag.
If you spill them on the floor even the dog, who will eat them, doesn't snarf them up, so you get caught dropping them on the floor. If you mush them up under the plate, Mom finds it in the dish water, which she finds ugly, (but not so ugly as you would find them if you actually ate them). Peas are grown-up food, because grown-ups have lost the sensitive perception to hate them.
Let's face it, most vegetables taste like their color. It's that color/sensory perception thing that has been studied scientifically in many ways. Green beans are okay when their green color is somewhat appealing. Carrots are okay when orange is considered okay. Cauliflower is not okay when they are perceived to be dirty green. A grey-green color leaches out of broccoli, cabbage, and brussel sprouts. And turnips are the color of dishwater. Corn is a bright, usually safe yellow, just as tomatoes are a bright, usually safe red.
Peas, to a child who hates them, are not worth anything. The nutritional value in peas is totally negated by the trauma of eating them.
Mommies trying to be smart try to package "nutritional" foods in cookies, brownies, or pizza. It sounds deceitful to me, and if, when I was a child, I found peas in my brownie, I would never eat a brownie again!
Sunday, November 16, 2014
5 or 50 Kinds of Drivel on FaceBook That Can Drive You Crazy
Most of the posts I see on FaceBook make me cringe. Some of them make me want to scream.
Then there are the posts that offer motivational sayings. They never
motivate me to do anything except to avoid posting similar wisdoms. Many of them post a political viewpoint. I won't even
post an example - we've all seen them, and they are disturbing to many
of us. Other posts are express a religious viewpoint (almost always Christian) or implore the reader to pray for something. Worse yet, they might say "Share if You Love God." I don't think God cares if I share such a message on Facebook, so I don't share those posts.
Every child belonging in some way to a FaceBook member is the smartest, the most beautiful, the most athletic, or the most charming, of course. If that isn't enough, readers are constantly reminded why we love our daughters, our sons, our parents and our grandparents, and we are expected to share those reasons if we agree. I wonder how many people who disagree share anyway? Some, I imagine. I might agree with the posts, but don't share what I think is drivel.
There are posts that document a weight-loss battle. "I Lost 7 oz.
today" or "I ran around the block this morning in the RAIN." Even more
ridiculous are the ones that list how many inches he or she has lost on
various parts of the body. I'm sorry, but I don't want to know how much
some guy has lost around his thighs.
Other posts offer to test my IQ (I already know what it is), my personality, my grammar, which Star Trek character I am, or what city in California I should represent. If there is anyone who believes these tests have any merit, trust me, they are not scientific. I could never be Spock. Then there are the posts that offer motivational sayings. They never motivate me to do anything except to avoid posting similar wisdoms.
The largest percentage of posts tell me what I supposedly do not know, or a reaction I will have.Other posts offer to test my IQ (I already know what it is), my personality, my grammar, which Star Trek character I am, or what city in California I should represent. If there is anyone who believes these tests have any merit, trust me, they are not scientific. I could never be Spock. Then there are the posts that offer motivational sayings. They never motivate me to do anything except to avoid posting similar wisdoms.
- 15 Things You Didn't Know About (insert name of a movie or TV show). This is stated as though I needed to know these 15 things. I've actually looked at a couple of things and I did, for some strange reason, know about 8 of those things.
- 10 Celebrities who have pronounced signs of aging (don't we all), or 8 Celebrities who have had dental work (thank heavens).
- 20 Ways to Improve Your Eating Habits. I haven't looked at this one, and I suppose this is the one that I should read.
- A story that will make me cry. Why would I want to cry?
- 10 Scary Facts that Will Make You Pee in Your Pants. Oh, good! I just logged onto FaceBook hoping I would find something that would make me pee in my pants. I wonder, should I read them all at one sitting, or should I read one a day?
- 20 Ways that Dogs are Better Than Cats, or 20 Ways that Cats are Better Than Dogs. I suppose I should expect to someday also find 20 Ways that Monkeys are Better Than Pigs.
I joined FaceBook because I think it's a nice way to connect with friends and relatives that I seldom see. I like the private message capabilities of FaceBook because it's often easier than finding someone's email address. Finally, it's a nice break from concentration and tasks of the day.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Sometimes It Comes to This...
A very nice, cheery friend of mine posted this today on social media:
OK--so I'm in a WalMart today--a lady riding in a store electric cart decide to cut me off in an isle (I had nowhere to go)--she looked Mean!! She said get the F---- out of my way--Now!! Well I'm not in a very good mood in the first place, so her attitude kind of ticked me off. I said, could you wait your turn--she said--Do you want me to kick your A--!! I said, well, you gotta get off that seat first, but ok--bring it on!! I finally just laughed at her. Now that really made her mad--she said she was going to slap that smile off my face. Now I am really ticked, she is not going to mess with my new teeth!!! She had a really little man right behind her--he said to her--why don't you calm down honey. she grabbed his arm and he was toast!! I kept going----
OK--so I'm in a WalMart today--a lady riding in a store electric cart decide to cut me off in an isle (I had nowhere to go)--she looked Mean!! She said get the F---- out of my way--Now!! Well I'm not in a very good mood in the first place, so her attitude kind of ticked me off. I said, could you wait your turn--she said--Do you want me to kick your A--!! I said, well, you gotta get off that seat first, but ok--bring it on!! I finally just laughed at her. Now that really made her mad--she said she was going to slap that smile off my face. Now I am really ticked, she is not going to mess with my new teeth!!! She had a really little man right behind her--he said to her--why don't you calm down honey. she grabbed his arm and he was toast!! I kept going----
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