The latter part of 2009 marked the 10th anniversary of Tubby's Y2K paranoia/preparations. I don't think anyone on the planet, at least in his income bracket, was more ready for this disaster than Tubs. He started gathering items early in 1999, and by the time December rolled around, he had the following: 50 pounds of pinto beans, 50 pounds of rice, several five gallon jars of jalapeno peppers, numerous cans of propane, a pantry full of canned goods, 100 two liter bottles of Pepsi, a generator and six 55 gallon barrels filled with either water or gas. Clearly, he was prepared for the worst.
It was during this time that I began to get phone calls like this:
Tubby: Hey, Booger, do you have enough tampons to get through this Y2K thing? This is your dad.
me: Since you are the only one who calls me Booger, I kind of guessed who you were.
Tubby: Fine, smartass! If you need the tampons, I'm going to the commissary. Make me a list.
Calls like this continued, and unsolicited gifts began to accumulate. He gave me an oil lantern, the aforementioned tampons, a propane camping stove, and, the gift that keeps on giving, 12 gauge shells.
Tubby just knew that at the stroke of midnight, the power was going to go out and he would be under siege by looters wanting his ten year old television and other appliances. I pointed out that if the power was out, the looters might not want things that had to be plugged in, but apparently I was just not being a team player.
The best call came on December 31, 1999.
Tubs: I wish you and your brother would come over here tonight.
me: Daddy, that's so sweet. You want us all to be together if this is really the end.
Tubs: No, I just want a two more shooters to protect my stuff.
me: Oh.
My brother and I declined that amazing offer and instead watched the new year ring in peacefully from the comfort of my living room. We laughed till we hurt at the thought of Tubby being pissed off about not getting to protect his crap from the hordes of looters. To this day, I think he is still mad that he was wrong about the whole thing. He had to get rid of his stash, part of which was useful. Hubs and I used the propane to power our grill for quite a while, but I still have an unopened 5 gallon jar of jalapenos in my garage.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for several reasons, not the least of which are that it's totally ok to be a glutton and the Cowboys are on. On a deeper level, though, I appreciate the reminder to count my blessings. I think I'm pretty good about gratitude, but having a day devoted to it is wonderful. So, in no particular order (because if you want that, read the blog of someone who is concrete sequential rather than abstract random), here are some things for which I am eternally and tremendously thankful:
1. Caller ID: I love not having to answer telemarketing calls.
3. Sunscreen: I love the sun and swimming, but with skin that is more pale than the bottoms of most people's feet, high SPF is a must!
4. Amazing friends and family: Knowing such a diverse group of people is a privilege and I cannot begin to describe the positive impact they have on my life. From shoe shopping to stock making to football watching to coffee shop venting, they make every day better.
5. Great job: My job can be stressful, but the kids make me laugh every day and it is very satisfying to know that I've played even a small part in their eventual successes. Also, they provide me with endless material for blogs. I've also been blessed with fabulous co-workers who don't seem to mind my occasional irreverence.
7. Tubby: Sure he's difficult on a good day and full of gloom and doom, but he's my dad and I love him, even when he starts conversations with "Now, what's wrong with you is. . .".
8. My most precious godson: He's the first person I loved before I met. How could I not love someone who was created by two of the finest people on the planet? He's the most beautiful, brilliant 11 1/2 month old ever, and he tells me that he will be attending college in Texas.
9. A car that allows me to play my Ipod through the factory installed sound system.
10. Junior League: No where else would I have been able to meet such a diverse, dynamic group of women! This organization makes me so proud and also humbled.
1. Caller ID: I love not having to answer telemarketing calls.
3. Sunscreen: I love the sun and swimming, but with skin that is more pale than the bottoms of most people's feet, high SPF is a must!
4. Amazing friends and family: Knowing such a diverse group of people is a privilege and I cannot begin to describe the positive impact they have on my life. From shoe shopping to stock making to football watching to coffee shop venting, they make every day better.
5. Great job: My job can be stressful, but the kids make me laugh every day and it is very satisfying to know that I've played even a small part in their eventual successes. Also, they provide me with endless material for blogs. I've also been blessed with fabulous co-workers who don't seem to mind my occasional irreverence.
7. Tubby: Sure he's difficult on a good day and full of gloom and doom, but he's my dad and I love him, even when he starts conversations with "Now, what's wrong with you is. . .".
8. My most precious godson: He's the first person I loved before I met. How could I not love someone who was created by two of the finest people on the planet? He's the most beautiful, brilliant 11 1/2 month old ever, and he tells me that he will be attending college in Texas.
9. A car that allows me to play my Ipod through the factory installed sound system.
10. Junior League: No where else would I have been able to meet such a diverse, dynamic group of women! This organization makes me so proud and also humbled.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Tragedy
I have debated myself over whether or not to post this blog. I am disgusted and saddened by Thursday's events at Ft. Hood. The United States Army has been part of my life since my dad enlisted when I was three months old. I married a soldier, who is now retired, and it is fair to say that at times I have been unhappy with the Army, but I have also received numerous benefits, both tangible and not, from this association. I tend to be irreverent and snarky, but I am also fiercely patriotic and proud of this country and our service men and women. For whatever reason, they have chosen to put their lives on the line for our freedoms and neither they, nor the civilian workers present, deserved the cowardly attack they were subjected to. I don't want this blog to be about Hasan except to say that I believe he will have his day in court and justice (at least the earthly Uniform Code of Military Justice kind) will be served. What happens to him in the hereafter is, of course, left to much higher authority. In the days and weeks to come, I know we will learn more about the shooter and his motives, but I wanted to write this blog about the media and the frustrations I have with the members of the Fourth Estate.
1. When someone in the military reports that the shooter has been "neutralized" this does not mean his pH has been restored to 7 (thanks to NNG for that one). Please don't wonder aloud on the air what that means. It means "he is no longer shooting people because we have stopped him from doing that by whatever means necessary".
2. The phrase "whatever means necessary", Newspeople, leads me to my second frustration. I know initial reports from the post indicated the shooter was dead, but was it really prudent to lament this fact, saying "Now we may never know a motive."? Honestly, knowing a motive is not nearly as important to me as saving lives, and if you kill the perpetrator in the process of saving innocent people, so be it. Please do not act disappointed that the murderous traitor may have been harmed.
3. A three star general dealing with a massacre on his post should never be approached as if he is an actor on Oscar night. This person is dealing with issues and logistics most of us cannot imagine and he doesn't have time to chat. When he says he'll take one more question or that he will not comment on a motive, he means it. Don't act like he's part of a conspiracy to keep information from you, Woodward.
4. If you are going to persist in live interviews with random idiots who have nothing to add and just want to be on tv, could you please put the following as the identifier under their faces on the screen: Miscellaneous Dipshit. That way, we all know that this person has nothing credible to add and we can ignore their ramblings and speculation. You might also apply this idea to your natural disaster coverage as well.
5. Please stop insulting our soldiers, even though you are doing it inadvertently. Yes, non wounded and wounded service members rendered first aid to those more hurt than themselves, even if they were putting themselves in harm's way to do so. Understand that this is what they are trained to do and this is what they have always done. When you respond to this fact with incredulity, you imply they did something above and beyond, and I understand that would be true in the civilian world. But in the military, what they did is standard, which is why our soldiers deserve much more respect than they get.
1. When someone in the military reports that the shooter has been "neutralized" this does not mean his pH has been restored to 7 (thanks to NNG for that one). Please don't wonder aloud on the air what that means. It means "he is no longer shooting people because we have stopped him from doing that by whatever means necessary".
2. The phrase "whatever means necessary", Newspeople, leads me to my second frustration. I know initial reports from the post indicated the shooter was dead, but was it really prudent to lament this fact, saying "Now we may never know a motive."? Honestly, knowing a motive is not nearly as important to me as saving lives, and if you kill the perpetrator in the process of saving innocent people, so be it. Please do not act disappointed that the murderous traitor may have been harmed.
3. A three star general dealing with a massacre on his post should never be approached as if he is an actor on Oscar night. This person is dealing with issues and logistics most of us cannot imagine and he doesn't have time to chat. When he says he'll take one more question or that he will not comment on a motive, he means it. Don't act like he's part of a conspiracy to keep information from you, Woodward.
4. If you are going to persist in live interviews with random idiots who have nothing to add and just want to be on tv, could you please put the following as the identifier under their faces on the screen: Miscellaneous Dipshit. That way, we all know that this person has nothing credible to add and we can ignore their ramblings and speculation. You might also apply this idea to your natural disaster coverage as well.
5. Please stop insulting our soldiers, even though you are doing it inadvertently. Yes, non wounded and wounded service members rendered first aid to those more hurt than themselves, even if they were putting themselves in harm's way to do so. Understand that this is what they are trained to do and this is what they have always done. When you respond to this fact with incredulity, you imply they did something above and beyond, and I understand that would be true in the civilian world. But in the military, what they did is standard, which is why our soldiers deserve much more respect than they get.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Brain Surgeons
In a recent blog, I wrote about a former colleague who was allegedly remembered by a student who had been in a coma for years. This same colleague brings to mind another story. . .
Please keep in mind that I realize public education is flawed. I am acutely aware of this fact, but I am also aware of the fact that no other country attempts to do what we do on such an inclusive level. In many ways, I envy the German school system, but I admire our (sometimes misguided) heart. We really do try to find a way to educate every child in this country to whatever capacity he or she is able to be educated.
This brings me to my un-esteemed colleague. One year when we arrived back to school, she was severely disappointed with her schedule. It seems, that in addition to her upper level and Advanced Placement classes, she was expected to teach a couple of sections of "regular" kids. This, apparently, just would not do! She marched herself into the assistant principal's office and informed him that she was not suited to teach the regular kids (known to her as the dregs of society) because that would be like "asking a brain surgeon to work on feet." Despite her pleas, she did have to teach the feet, although I wouldn't call it teaching. Her best effort and attention went to her AP classes, and the other kids got mere crumbs.
I have a lot of problems with this. 1. I've seen her teach; she's no brain surgeon. 2. All kids should be treated like they can learn because they can. 3. I'm glad she likes the AP kids and I'm in favor of the AP program, but we have way more "feet" than we do AP kids, and the feet pay the bills and allow her to be employed. 4. Many teachers, and she is certainly one of them, who teach AP or gifted kids think that they are gifted by association, and that's bullshit. It's hard to teach gifted kids, but it is just as hard or harder to teach regular and special needs kids.
I love the feet! Not to take anything away from a gifted kid, but I love the kids who are maybe not as naturally endowed but still have intellectual curiosity. I like the average kid who is a hard worker. I like the kid who doesn't kiss my ass for a grade. I like the smart ass.
God bless the feet! And pardon the diatribe!
Please keep in mind that I realize public education is flawed. I am acutely aware of this fact, but I am also aware of the fact that no other country attempts to do what we do on such an inclusive level. In many ways, I envy the German school system, but I admire our (sometimes misguided) heart. We really do try to find a way to educate every child in this country to whatever capacity he or she is able to be educated.
This brings me to my un-esteemed colleague. One year when we arrived back to school, she was severely disappointed with her schedule. It seems, that in addition to her upper level and Advanced Placement classes, she was expected to teach a couple of sections of "regular" kids. This, apparently, just would not do! She marched herself into the assistant principal's office and informed him that she was not suited to teach the regular kids (known to her as the dregs of society) because that would be like "asking a brain surgeon to work on feet." Despite her pleas, she did have to teach the feet, although I wouldn't call it teaching. Her best effort and attention went to her AP classes, and the other kids got mere crumbs.
I have a lot of problems with this. 1. I've seen her teach; she's no brain surgeon. 2. All kids should be treated like they can learn because they can. 3. I'm glad she likes the AP kids and I'm in favor of the AP program, but we have way more "feet" than we do AP kids, and the feet pay the bills and allow her to be employed. 4. Many teachers, and she is certainly one of them, who teach AP or gifted kids think that they are gifted by association, and that's bullshit. It's hard to teach gifted kids, but it is just as hard or harder to teach regular and special needs kids.
I love the feet! Not to take anything away from a gifted kid, but I love the kids who are maybe not as naturally endowed but still have intellectual curiosity. I like the average kid who is a hard worker. I like the kid who doesn't kiss my ass for a grade. I like the smart ass.
God bless the feet! And pardon the diatribe!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Family Tradition, Tubby Style
I always get a little uncomfortable when people start talking about their family traditions. On almost any other subject, I have something to share, but when it comes to this, I'm at a loss. My family simply doesn't do tradition.
For those of you who haven't read my posts about my dad, let me introduce you to Tubby. Tubby, these nice people read my blog, and they seem to like me, I mean really like me. "Goddamn it, why are you putting stuff about yourself on the internet? Haven't I told you a thousand times not to do crap like this? When I die, your brother is going to get the money and he will hold it for you until you prove yourself responsible enough to handle it! Have you gotten another goddamn dog? I guess it's nice to have money to burn on those vet bills, Mrs. Got rocks."
That, readers, is my father. Here is an exchange from my childhood. I am 7 or 8 at the time.
Tubs: Do you think anyone in this world outside of this house gives a shit whether you live or die?
me: My teacher?
Tubs: Wrong! No one cares. Did you know that there are people in this world who will hurt you just for the fun of it?
me: No.
Tubs: Quit living in a dream world! Do I need to build you a sandbox?
me: No.
Tubs: Fine!
Not surprisingly, this man did not participate in any of the kind of ritual that I see other families enjoy. Special Thanksgiving meal? Not us. We made a trip to Wyatt's Cafeteria because Tubs doesn't like leftovers. Christmas carols? Nope. The Christmas tree could go up no sooner than 2 weeks before the big day and had to be down and stored (in a box labeled "X-Mas Shit") on December 26.
The closest thing we have to a tradition (aside from inappropriate drinking, which I'm not gonna lie, does help you deal with Tubs) is the New Year's Call. My brother and I started this when we were in our 20s, and admittedly, it's a really stupid thing to do. Each January 1st at midnight, my brother and I would call our dad, wait for him to answer, then hang up. We found such hilarity with this that we continued it for years, taking turns on the years we weren't together. The best part was this line from Tubby, "No matter where I live, some drunk asshole calls me on New Year's Eve and hangs up!" To this day, I don't think he knows that his kids are the drunk assholes!
For those of you who haven't read my posts about my dad, let me introduce you to Tubby. Tubby, these nice people read my blog, and they seem to like me, I mean really like me. "Goddamn it, why are you putting stuff about yourself on the internet? Haven't I told you a thousand times not to do crap like this? When I die, your brother is going to get the money and he will hold it for you until you prove yourself responsible enough to handle it! Have you gotten another goddamn dog? I guess it's nice to have money to burn on those vet bills, Mrs. Got rocks."
That, readers, is my father. Here is an exchange from my childhood. I am 7 or 8 at the time.
Tubs: Do you think anyone in this world outside of this house gives a shit whether you live or die?
me: My teacher?
Tubs: Wrong! No one cares. Did you know that there are people in this world who will hurt you just for the fun of it?
me: No.
Tubs: Quit living in a dream world! Do I need to build you a sandbox?
me: No.
Tubs: Fine!
Not surprisingly, this man did not participate in any of the kind of ritual that I see other families enjoy. Special Thanksgiving meal? Not us. We made a trip to Wyatt's Cafeteria because Tubs doesn't like leftovers. Christmas carols? Nope. The Christmas tree could go up no sooner than 2 weeks before the big day and had to be down and stored (in a box labeled "X-Mas Shit") on December 26.
The closest thing we have to a tradition (aside from inappropriate drinking, which I'm not gonna lie, does help you deal with Tubs) is the New Year's Call. My brother and I started this when we were in our 20s, and admittedly, it's a really stupid thing to do. Each January 1st at midnight, my brother and I would call our dad, wait for him to answer, then hang up. We found such hilarity with this that we continued it for years, taking turns on the years we weren't together. The best part was this line from Tubby, "No matter where I live, some drunk asshole calls me on New Year's Eve and hangs up!" To this day, I don't think he knows that his kids are the drunk assholes!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
My Platform (and I'm not talking shoes!)
I'm way too much of a slacker to seek or hold public office, but if I did, here is my platform:
1. Whatever consenting adults do in private is their business, not mine. The key words are consenting and adults, Roman Polanski. I realize the crime took place over thirty years ago, but so did his bail jumping. By the way, don't you just love the Hollywood embrace of this man? Really, Madonna? Is it ok with you if someone gives your teenage daughter champagne and a Quaalude and rapes her? What if he's made some good movies, would that make it better? And Woody Allen is publicly siding with him?! Perfect!
2. If you chose to go to Wal Mart (or anywhere, really, I just think that WM has the highest incidence of this kind of thing) with your baby, please clothe him or her. I never want to see another diaper only-clad infant or toddler in public. As I have said before, I really have nothing against every day low prices, but I have a big problem with the kid throwing poo out of his diaper on Aisle 5!
3. I'm sorry if this one is offensive, but if you don't like it, please feel free to spend 17 years in the public school system before you criticize. Everyone will be chemically sterilized sometime in early junior high school. When individuals prove themselves emotionally and financially stable, their reproductivity will be restored. If you have a baby on the government's dime, the government will give that baby to someone who is more responsible but can't have children.
4. Speaking of education, we need to get back to basics and stop all of the touchy-feely nonsense that plagues our system now. When a kid fails a class despite all opportunities, it is not the fault of the teacher. Kids who refuse to make adequate progress will be put into residential boot camp until their grades improve. If their grades don't improve, they will augment their lessons with Adopt a Highway cleanup. We need to worry less about hurting feelings and more about preparing students for the real world.
5. Everyone has to take responsibility for his or her actions. Let's quit blaming everyone else for our problems. Ben and Jerry (or Tom and Jerry) are not responsible for my high triglycerides. That's on me. Might I add, after years of viewing Tom and Jerry cartoons, I never once hit my brother in the head with a frying pan.
6. If the shoe fits, buy one in every color! Ok, I made it about shoes after all!
1. Whatever consenting adults do in private is their business, not mine. The key words are consenting and adults, Roman Polanski. I realize the crime took place over thirty years ago, but so did his bail jumping. By the way, don't you just love the Hollywood embrace of this man? Really, Madonna? Is it ok with you if someone gives your teenage daughter champagne and a Quaalude and rapes her? What if he's made some good movies, would that make it better? And Woody Allen is publicly siding with him?! Perfect!
2. If you chose to go to Wal Mart (or anywhere, really, I just think that WM has the highest incidence of this kind of thing) with your baby, please clothe him or her. I never want to see another diaper only-clad infant or toddler in public. As I have said before, I really have nothing against every day low prices, but I have a big problem with the kid throwing poo out of his diaper on Aisle 5!
3. I'm sorry if this one is offensive, but if you don't like it, please feel free to spend 17 years in the public school system before you criticize. Everyone will be chemically sterilized sometime in early junior high school. When individuals prove themselves emotionally and financially stable, their reproductivity will be restored. If you have a baby on the government's dime, the government will give that baby to someone who is more responsible but can't have children.
4. Speaking of education, we need to get back to basics and stop all of the touchy-feely nonsense that plagues our system now. When a kid fails a class despite all opportunities, it is not the fault of the teacher. Kids who refuse to make adequate progress will be put into residential boot camp until their grades improve. If their grades don't improve, they will augment their lessons with Adopt a Highway cleanup. We need to worry less about hurting feelings and more about preparing students for the real world.
5. Everyone has to take responsibility for his or her actions. Let's quit blaming everyone else for our problems. Ben and Jerry (or Tom and Jerry) are not responsible for my high triglycerides. That's on me. Might I add, after years of viewing Tom and Jerry cartoons, I never once hit my brother in the head with a frying pan.
6. If the shoe fits, buy one in every color! Ok, I made it about shoes after all!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Childless by Choice
Let me start off by saying that I love kids. I've been a teacher for 17 years, I genuinely enjoy my friends' kids, and I absolutely adore my Very Precious Godson! Despite all this, however, I have never wanted kids of my own.
I must either be a genius with birth control or barren, and I'm ok either way. I've never even had a real pregnancy scare. A couple of years ago, a very dear (but evil) co-worker made me think I might be pregnant because I was a day late and nauseated. All day I thought about how I was carrying another Damien, so I stopped at the drug store on the way home to purchase two pregnancy tests. When my husband got home, I was in the middle of test one. He asked me what I was doing and I replied, "Mary says I'm pregnant so I'm peeing on a stick to see if I have Satan's child in me." He seemed perplexed, and I continued explaining myself while I waited for the results. "I'm late and Mary thinks I'm pregnant, so I'm taking a test. What if I'm pregnant?" His way too calm response was, "Maybe if, despite our efforts to the contrary, you are pregnant, we should take it as a sign from God." My response, "Or the devil." (I'm nothing if not optimistic!) I was lying on the sofa feeling my abdomen and told my husband I felt a hoof. He, for some inexplicable reason, thought I was crazy and told me so. I said, "Did you hear that A.C. (anti-Christ), Daddy doesn't love me and I'm a single parent." About that time, the timer buzzed, and we went to check the test, which was, of course, negative. Just to be safe, I took the other one the next morning and it was negative too.
I know that some people are suspicious of this decision, and it puts me forever out of the Mommy Club, but my biological clock has just never demanded my attention. The other day, a 16 year old student of mine who is pregnant for the second time started asking me questions about pregnancy.
Kid: My back hurts and I'm tired. Is that normal?
Me: I don't know. I've never been pregnant.
Kid: What??!! On purpose???? How old are you?
Me: Yes, on purpose, and I'm 40.
Kid: Wow!
So, I know I'm being judged by society in general and one particular idiot specifically, but I have made the choice that's best for me, and I'm happy with it!
I must either be a genius with birth control or barren, and I'm ok either way. I've never even had a real pregnancy scare. A couple of years ago, a very dear (but evil) co-worker made me think I might be pregnant because I was a day late and nauseated. All day I thought about how I was carrying another Damien, so I stopped at the drug store on the way home to purchase two pregnancy tests. When my husband got home, I was in the middle of test one. He asked me what I was doing and I replied, "Mary says I'm pregnant so I'm peeing on a stick to see if I have Satan's child in me." He seemed perplexed, and I continued explaining myself while I waited for the results. "I'm late and Mary thinks I'm pregnant, so I'm taking a test. What if I'm pregnant?" His way too calm response was, "Maybe if, despite our efforts to the contrary, you are pregnant, we should take it as a sign from God." My response, "Or the devil." (I'm nothing if not optimistic!) I was lying on the sofa feeling my abdomen and told my husband I felt a hoof. He, for some inexplicable reason, thought I was crazy and told me so. I said, "Did you hear that A.C. (anti-Christ), Daddy doesn't love me and I'm a single parent." About that time, the timer buzzed, and we went to check the test, which was, of course, negative. Just to be safe, I took the other one the next morning and it was negative too.
I know that some people are suspicious of this decision, and it puts me forever out of the Mommy Club, but my biological clock has just never demanded my attention. The other day, a 16 year old student of mine who is pregnant for the second time started asking me questions about pregnancy.
Kid: My back hurts and I'm tired. Is that normal?
Me: I don't know. I've never been pregnant.
Kid: What??!! On purpose???? How old are you?
Me: Yes, on purpose, and I'm 40.
Kid: Wow!
So, I know I'm being judged by society in general and one particular idiot specifically, but I have made the choice that's best for me, and I'm happy with it!
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