Headlines, and Commercials, OH MY!

Today's entry was already prepared, already edited, and you'll just have to see it some other time. It just felt too serious even though it had my snark sprinkled all through it. But it's Friday, and Fridays call for a celebration. So I thought I'd throw out some headlines and commercials and my reaction to them. Imagine I've lifted my right eyebrow, something I can't do, but always wished I could. Oh, and give me a deliciously superior accent. Hey, while you're at it, I'd like to be tall and skinny...taking it too far ain't I? OK, without further ado...headlines and commercials:

There's a commercial for a new dog treat and it uses the line, "they look homemade".  How reassuring. My dog always stops to review how aesthetically pleasing his food appears. I can tell he's doing that in the microsecond he takes before he starts eating it.

"Kardashians' Ink New $40 Million TV Contract" - This comment comes via Mary - "Please tell me they're paying them to stop" - and no such luck with that. The good news to take from this is that if you have ridiculously attractive children with no discernible talents, there is hope. For the rest of us, we need to keep cracking that study and work whip.

"'Bachelor' Host, and Wife Ending Marriage" - I guess seeing all those ridiculously happy marriages that have resulted from this show, oh, wait...never mind.

"Man Who Dressed as Dead Mother Guilty of Fraud" - Yeah, that's not the only thing he's guilty of...

"Rio de Janeiro Stripping Away Visual Pollution" - Darn. I was so looking forward to the People of Wal Mart - Rio edition.

The Camry commercial that talks about life in a Camry. Forgive me, but except for a DeSoto or a Delaurean, can't most car brands claim all those life events? Get over yourselves. Losing a tooth in a car does not make me want to buy a new one. It makes me want to go to the dentist...maybe.

"Pepsi Brings Back Michael Jackson for New Ad Push" - Well, this is a new idea. Reincarnation as a product benefit. We all want to buy a product pushed by a guy who died at 50.

Ok - I've probably pushed the limit on a few of my comments, but let me know if you see anything wacky. Laughing on a Friday should be a requirement of life!

Back Seat Conversations in May

I’m in one of those moods. Menopause does that to you or so I’ve heard. I just feel like listing some pet peeves. It makes you feel all deliciously superior especially when done with no makeup on and no one around to point out all your own faults – in other words the cat is sleeping and the dog is fed, the kids at school and the hubby gone to his job.

So here goes:

Must every establishment I frequent now ask me if I want to contribute one dollar to their chosen cause du jour? Cause I don’t want to. So I don’t sound as Ebenezer as all that, I need to say that we contribute to charity both financially and time wise (well my time and hubby’s hard earned financials). I have no overwhelming desire to make some big company look better by giving a dollar here and a dollar there and I resent being asked when I just came in to pick up some lousy poster board for the kids projects. So stop asking me already. Put a sign up there, I’ll read it and let me tell you. Cause I can, if I want to.

When did yellow become the new green? I ask because it seems that rarely does a day pass that I don’t see someone run a light. Cause if you approach it at the speed of light and it’s yellow, then faster than the speed of light it becomes RED. To get to the kids high school I have to pass over a major interstate. And apparently everyone is just dying to get on that interstate cause they don’t stop for nothing. But as I keep explaining in colorful language to my 15 year old, who will be driving soon, we hope, their failure to stop means one day they just might die. So either recognize your colors or get a freakin’ helicopter so you can fly over top of the rest of us who don’t want to die.

Speaking of driving, one more constant lecture point that I keep giving to my teenagers – put up your freakin’ phone and drive, uhh, bless your hearts.  Invariably if I pass someone who is driving like an idiot I can glance over and see your phone. It’s either your phone or you bought one earring off of somebody like Snookie or whatever her name is. I know driving can be boring, but I’m pretty dang sure that most of us have nothing so pressing that we need to be on the phone AT THAT EXACT MOMENT. Of course that’s easy for me to say – I relish some peace and quiet.

That’s just today’s list. Feel free to check with me tomorrow. Cause my mood is ever changing – just like those traffic lights y’all keep ignoring.

Field Tripping: Can You Spot the Anachronism?

By Sheilah

I’m thinking my son might make a good detective or a writer. His detailed description of Old Salem was telling in what he focused on.

“I was expecting all old houses and dirt roads, but NOOOO, there were air conditioners outside every house, cars on the streets, ‘No Parking’ signs, ‘45 Minute Only Parking’ signs, posters on every house…(he’s sounding personally affronted about now)….The least realistic was the print shop--because they had a volunteer dressed in fancy Nancy clothes. ‘Fancy Nancy? I say.’ Well her name was Nancy. (LMAO here.) There was another volunteer named Britt who talked like this: ‘I will now show you how to dye and make a paper something’… (spoken in dry monotone—he’s a ham, my son)… Because it’s like a print shop, in the 1700s. You don’t see those very often. So I think they just made up that they had a print shop in the 1700s. It had a machine that said built in 1891. Back then it wouldn’t have even been …Old Salem wouldn’t have bought something of that price.”

He returned with a box of ginger cakes that he loves, a wooden bookmark, a small bag made of rabbit skin with 2 souvenier pennies and 2 wax ants and a pin. I was admiring the ants, talking about how cool that he had a real something not plastic made in China, when he says, nope, they have China stamped on their butts. Dammit. Old Salem imports.

All kids naturally do what Dylan did, see what he saw (I hope)--that’s why they say the darnedest things. They see what’s here and now in front of them, all is new and curious and like other things, hence they’re naturally metaphoric. To recapture that awakeness to a new world, to see through a child’s eyes—that’s why I write. It is a strange and curious and beautiful and scary world in its awesomeness, one to not let my eyes brush over or close on. When I’m once again dulled and beaten by the harshness of life, I have to see anew. Religion, spirituality, exercise, new love, birth, death, pain, music, art—all these things can bring us back to the point of seeing anew. What wakes you?

The world stands out on either side

No wider than the heart is wide;

Above the world is stretched the sky,—        

No higher than the soul is high.

The heart can push the sea and land

Farther away on either hand;

The soul can split the sky in two,

And let the face of God shine through.        

But East and West will pinch the heart

That can not keep them pushed apart;

And he whose soul is flat—the sky

Will cave in on him by and by.

--From Edna St.Vincent Millay’s “Renascence”

It’s the first anniversary of Mom’s death today. I know a mother’s love because I had one, and because I feel it for my son. It is divine, bigger than we are, and it must, it must, make us know God. When it’s gone, I don’t know what that means, but I’m left feeling that now, now, now and forevermore I don’t have anyone to take a bullet for me.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

--from “Dirge Without Music,” Edna St.Vincent Millay

Spring Broke on Me

Sheilah

Wednesday: Let’s go along on Daddy’s work trip with him. Sure, why not?  I mean there was that week in Florida, that was fun, right? Where we rented a car and played and took that air boat ride through the Everglades, and the water taxis, and the mahi mahi every night. We haven’t done that in ages. And it’s spring break week, and I asked for two days off, and Daddy’s headed to Tennessee, so let’s go.

Thursday: 7, as in the a.m., we have to leave? Are you kidding me? Jeez. Okay, ok, I’m up. Got your DVDs? We’re headed where? What state is that in? Oh, you’re dumping us off with a rental car, and we get to drive it to where? And you’ll meet us when? And there is what to do between here and there? By day’s end, Dylan and I are in Chattanooga, which I must say is a fine town. It has a waterfront. We got the best suite the hotel had.

Friday: Major traveler’s poo problem. I mean of the colon-blow variety. I felt all shiny and new after those hours on the john. Unfortunately, Daddy’s working and we have to hightail it outta town. Rental’s gone, and now me, weakened from losing half my weight and all my fluids, and Dylan have to be dropped off at a national park while he works. He says he’ll come back for us. I have a déjà vu feeling like I read this book. I think it’s a Flannery O’Connor short story, and you know what that means. Somebody’s gonna die, but not until there’s been a miraculous revelation.

He returns two hours later after I’ve wandered the park, which is a DRIVING park mind you, with Dylan on foot sans food or drink. We got the junior ranger book and have been busily trying to fill in the damn blanks so we can get our damn medal and badge. It’s important. It’s very boy scoutish feeling. It’s freaking desperation. There’s no comfort away from home when you’re sick, especially when you also have to walk for miles and pretend to like it. I don’t pretend well. I don’t suffer long. But we did it. I begged off to lie in the grass on occasion and tried to lie in the way too educational for me theater but the damn benches were made of wood. It was like a Parks & Recreation sit com episode. Ten employees but nothing to employ them with. If only they’d sold food and drink, give them something to do. Dave brought Saltines and Sprite on his return. Yes, he came back for us. After asking for ginger ale all day, I’ve learned Tennessee has never heard of such a drink. They are backward freaks like that, or maybe it’s just my attitude.

On to near Nashville that night. Yes, it turns out Daddy had no time for a little mini-vacation, a fact he kinda forgot to mention before signing us up to go along. Why did we come I ask again? Well I like you guys. I wish traveler’s poo on him.

I fall face first into the next hotel room bed while he goes to his next job. I awake to Dylan riding the rolling ottoman across the length of the room.

Saturday: Our day to do something and we’re too pooped to pop. Untrue, I’m totally unpooped for a week to come, but he’s a walking dead man. Turns out Dylan’s a great traveler—content to watch silly movies and laugh out loud. I say forgetabout Nashville, let’s go home. Except I have to drive. The whole way home. You know, this reminds me of something. Oh, yeah, I have sooo done this before. Yes, last time I was six months pregnant, leaving Arkansas for Raleigh, driving through the middle of the night on I-40 in fog. Going about 50 mph. Tennessee is one mile-ish state of being that I will not volunteer for again. But the day after you’ve felt so sick, you’re kinda on your game. I drove those 8 hours home and will do it again to get out of such a spring break. Anytime.

Getting Carried Away

There is music in the mockingbirds’ squawk and the squirrels’ chatter. It’s all drawn together by the thump, thump, thumping of a car going down the street with its bass vibrating. Two hooded youths walk towards me, greeting me with smiles as we go by each other. A woman pushes a stroller humming lullabies to her baby, happily cooing at the sky. Is there anything more magical than a walk outside?

There is a walking club where I work. For the price of a dollar a year, one can join and have an extra twenty minutes tacked onto the lunch hour. My work hours, home hours, and errands, have forced me from the gym, so I thought what the heck, maybe this will get me motivated. It has me addicted, and it’s not all about the obvious health benefits that are gained. The addiction is something that until recently I don’t think I fully understood.

Me time. What the heck is that? I used to think it was the time spent creating, writing, playing music, doing, controlling something, some aspect of ourselves. At this point it seems it’s just enjoying the surroundings with little to no expectations. I’m just walking and taking it all in. Some days I grab the iPod and put it on shuffle and then I smile at the random selection of songs that play, seemingly so right for the moment. I find myself stepping in time with the beat. Heaven help any passerby’s if “Footloose” plays. I might just break out singing and start dancing. That would really get those squirrels chattering.

It helps that I work in a small town and the building I work in is surrounded by lovely old homes. Some of the structures are Antebellum, some Victorian, and some just ooze welcome from the delights of their gardens. A little further off the beaten path, the Neuse River winds its undulating muddy tail. The water gurgles and the dragonflies brush the surface of the water, skimming at their reflections. By the time I walk back into the office I almost feel I’ve had a mini-vacation. The first day I walked, I lost track of time and missed the actual lunch portion of lunch. I was tired, my legs were a little sore, and I couldn’t wait until the next escape.

When I was very young, my mother used to take us on long walks. My mother, my sisters, and I, would go visiting and my legs would feel like they were about to give out from the length of our walks. I remember my sisters crossing their arms and linking hands, so I could sit in the crook they made and be carried. That’s how I feel when I walk. I’m being carried away from myself, away from my woes or random foolishness and into the outside of it all. I don’t know where my shoes will take me tomorrow, whether it’s to the river or the church yard. Sometimes I just get carried away.