There’s a Message Here

Sunday morning Studly left to play golf around six. I kissed him goodbye, read a bit of my book and then dozed off. When my alarm awakened me at eight I was in the middle of a crazy, yet important dream.

In the dream I was at the Women’s Imaging Center in Tallahassee awaiting my turn to have my annual mammogram. I already had my gown on, and when my name was called I followed a nurse back to the procedure room. Only this year, the room was huge and filled with pink plastic picnic tables.

I asked what had happened to the standard room and was told, “This is the more humane method for conducting a mammogram. Take a seat at the first table and we’ll be with you momentarily.”

While I waited people came and went. A tour group of children with their teachers made a pass through the area. Several folks in medical scrubs walked by me, and I asked every one if they were there to perform my mammogram. They all looked at me like I was crazy.

Finally a man approached me and said I’d accidentally been sent to the wrong area. He pointed me to a shed at the far end of the picnic tables. Dutifully I trudged between the tables, trying in vain to hold my skimpy robe together.

When I arrived I discovered the shed was a store filled with feed for farm animals, with several such animals coming and going. There was a Holstein cow, and a chicken or two, and a Shetland pony inside the store. But in the back was a small room with the appropriate equipment and a nice technician to put my “girls” through their paces. Then the alarm woke me.

So, what’s the message here? Several years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer that was detected early thanks to a mammogram. This simple procedure very well could’ve saved my life. So do it. Even if picnic tables and cows are involved.

Peace, people!

Thank you

To the Starbucks barista who always knows my order before I finish saying, “grande,” thank you.

And to the young man who extended his hand through the open sun roof of his car to wave at me, thank you.

Thank you, husband, for calling when you’re running late so I won’t worry.

To my daughter, thanks for sending videos of my grandkids as they do ordinary things in extraordinary ways.

My son, thank you for finding ways to allow me to be useful these days.

Friends, near and far, for making me laugh, keeping me sane, and calling out my b.s., thanks so much.

Blogging community thank you for broadening my world!

Peace, people!

Coagulatin’ Again

“Protest Songs for 1000, Alex.”–me

“This 1965 tune included the following lyric:

“Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin'”–Alex Trebek

“What is Eve of Destruction, Alex?”–me

“You just took the lead with that answer. Well done.”–Alex

I swear I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but it just occurred to me that perhaps “Eve of Destruction” by Barry McGuire is the only song to ever use the word coagulatin’. I can’t be certain, but surely no other lyricist ever felt the need to rhyme coagulatin’ not only with contemplatin, but also with disintegratin’ and frustratin’.

It’s one of my favorite songs from that time period, and unfortunately more relevant than ever.

Don’t believe me?

https://youtu.be/I98KeKV_F9g

In case the link doesn’t work:

Eve of Destruction

The eastern world, it is explodin’,

Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’,

You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’,

You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’,

And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’,

But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,

Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Don’t you understand, what I’m trying to say?

And can’t you feel the fears I’m feeling today?

If the button is pushed, there’s no running away,

There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave,

Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy,

And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,

Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin’,

I’m sittin’ here, just contemplatin’,

I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation,

Handful of Senators don’t pass legislation,

And marches alone can’t bring integration,

When human respect is disintegratin’,

This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’,

And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,

Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China!

Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!

Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space,

But when your return, it’s the same old place,

The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace,

You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace,

Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace,

And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,

You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

No, no, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Source: LyricFind

Peace, PLEASE, people!

You Know You’ve Matured When…

Sixty-two is a comfortable age. Most days I feel every year of it, but occasionally I believe I could still dance ’til all hours with no morning after consequences. Still other days I might as well be crocheting blankets in an assisted living facility. Such is life at 62.

Now maturity is a different matter altogether. Even though I’m nearing the 63 mark, I don’t often act or feel mature. I still enjoy roller coasters and haunted houses. I tell juvenile jokes and delight in Studly Doright’s goofy charm.

Yesterday, though, I realized that I might have turned a corner in the maturity game.

We had an issue with our satellite feed and had to call a service guy out to fix it. In retrospect, this man was extremely good looking: Tall with broad shoulders, high cheekbones, long dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, chiseled features. Kind of the whole physical package.

(Similar to the guy below, but fully clothed.)

But what did I notice during his visit? That he tracked in dirt with his size 12 boots. I was too busy cleaning up behind him to notice how hot he was until after he’d left. What the heck happened to me?

After the guy was gone I told Studly Doright how miffed I was that the service man had left dirt on my carpets. He gave me a hug and said, “That’s my girl.” I’m not sure how to take that.

Peace, people.

People

There’s an 80-something woman I know, dyes her hair magenta, wears Chanel No. 5 and purple blouses

My banker is a young, Black man with perfect teeth, and the soul of a poet. He performs at open mic nights

I’ve heard of a child who isn’t. Born on the wrong side of an imaginary line, she huddles with others in a cage

The woman next to me in the grocery store marks her territory with an angry stance and sad, old eyes

Death claims a friend, robbing all who loved her of her sweet spirit. She comes around in my dreams

Me? I’m a watcher, hoisting a glass to those who’ve touched my life, for better and sometimes for worse

Who are you? Add a verse.

Peace, people.

Found the photo of the sculpture on Pinterest.

Things That Made Me Laugh Today

Let’s face it, lately it’s been tough to be upbeat, but we humans are resilient, and we need to laugh. I’ve curated a selection of memes, cartoons, etc., to help us do just that.

This one got me started:

I used the one below in an earlier post, but it makes me chuckle every time I see it.

The next one made me laugh out loud. I’m terrible at putting together jigsaw puzzles. Even easy ones give me fits.

I would love to shake this man’s hand.

Here are a couple I loved. Maybe it’s only because I’m a retired teacher, but they made me giggle:

Okay, I guffawed:

Classic me:

Okay, a few more, and then I must do something productive.

I’m willing to be R2D2’s sponsor should he come to terms with his addiction.

Heh.

But what if I need the practice?

Sounds like a winner to me:

And finally:

I hope you got a chuckle out of some of these.

Peace, and giggles, people!

Snapshot #266

Here’s a first for me. I’m calling this one, I Closed Down the Bar Tonight.

It’s totally not as cool, or as sordid, as it sounds.

Peace, people!

Super Power

Not too many days ago I published a piece titled, “Manipulating Space” in which I explored the very slight possibility that I might have been endowed with the super power of making myself, and my vehicle, smaller for the purpose of avoiding an accident.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2019/07/30/manipulating-space/

Now no one, including me, took that possibility seriously, but yesterday I had another episode that could’ve been attributed to spatial manipulation, but more likely was the result of my excellent driving skills. I can’t read that last part aloud without Studly Doright convulsing in fits of laughter. He’d sooner believe I had a super power.

Here’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. On the spur of the moment I’d decided to go to a movie in Tallahassee. Studly was out of town, and my evening stretched before me like an endless sea. It was either see a movie or watch television all evening. The movie, Blinded by the Light won.

I had about half an hour to get to the theatre, more if you figure in the twenty minutes of trailers before the film, but I needed to buy my ticket and a snack, so there was no time to waste. I grabbed a wrap and my umbrella and began the drive into town.

Traffic was pretty heavy on the road between Quincy and Midway. I found myself following a pickup truck towing a trailer loaded with a junk car. Just before we reached Midway, the windshield of the junk car blew out onto the road right in front of me.

Did I do the whole space manipulation thing? Nope, I just deftly maneuvered my car around all the debris and emerged unscathed. I’ll save my super powers for real emergencies.

Peace, people.

Snapshots #264 and 265

I think these should be called, “What Could One Build Using Only Popsicle Sticks and Marbles?” and “Lamps, of Course.”

Of course, “Too Much Time on One’s Hands” would also be an apt title.

Speaking of hands, on the one hand, I admire all the time and effort that went into the construction of these lamps. On the other hand, I just wonder why. Why the effort? Why the time?

No, I did not purchase these beauties.

Peace, people.