Back in the "boonies"(*1) of time -- another word of my own invention - Neanderthal type people clubbed others over the head in order to get their own way. In other words, they were barbarians.
Per The Random House College Dictionary, a barbarian is a person in a savage, primitive state . . . uncivilized . . . without culture or education . . . philistine . . . crude. This term is being bandied about freely in describing the wild, hard headed, radical, militant Muslims of the Middle East. And it does seem a proper description of their behavior. (And if you don't like being called Barbarian, quit behaving like barbarians.)
So, why in this world are people actually saying that the rest of the world should try to negotiate instead of war their way to a "lasting peace" with them?
To enter negotiations, both sides need to be able to think, be merciful, be open minded, care about humanity in general and be living in the same era of time as each other. These people are nothing like the rest of this world, so let's get in touch with reality. They are lost in a time warp of sorts. Negotiation is not on this banquet table, because the aggressors do not live in reality. The real world is beyond their comprehension. All they understand is that they want to kill, kill, kill. And they embarrass Allah by saying they do it in his name.
*1 You know, out in the boondocks, only of time instead of rural America.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Monday, September 15, 2014
On Being A Couch Potato -- And Loving It
Now we have to plan how we will spend our retirement. We can't just enjoy it, we have to plan it, program it and worry it to death. Planning the finances, a luxury of the well off, isn't enough. We have to know in advance whether to travel, to hike, to sky dive, to subscribe to Rosetta Stone language discs or to make a mountain out of a molehill.
A recent article in the AARP Bulletin stated retirement can last a long time. Wrong. It is not nearly long enough. The article says if we retire at 65, men should have around seventeen years and women twenty. They see that as a long time? That's a mere flash in the pan.
My complex plan? To do all the things I didn't have time to do while working. Are we talking sky diving here? Not a chance! We're talking reading, writing and yeah, even "rithmetic" -- fantasy induced mathematical problems of how to spend fantasy money that keeps the mind functioning. Forget Suduko. Boring stuff! Make up your own problems of how you would share a sudden windfall with family and friends. Endless fun.
Like to knit, crochet, embroider, regular or crewel? How about music -- listening or playing? Television? DVDs? Throw in a little gardening and yard work? The day will come soon enough when you have to hire the teenagers next door.
Have trouble filling up those hours? Why? We couch potato types like ceramics, charcoal and chalk drawings, photography, redecorating, magazines, mysteries, bird watching.
There is no end to the life-changing, fun and valuable happenings to be had in unplanned retirements. It is so boomer of AARP to turn enjoyable living into a long-term tedious project.
You don't know what you will be missing.
A recent article in the AARP Bulletin stated retirement can last a long time. Wrong. It is not nearly long enough. The article says if we retire at 65, men should have around seventeen years and women twenty. They see that as a long time? That's a mere flash in the pan.
My complex plan? To do all the things I didn't have time to do while working. Are we talking sky diving here? Not a chance! We're talking reading, writing and yeah, even "rithmetic" -- fantasy induced mathematical problems of how to spend fantasy money that keeps the mind functioning. Forget Suduko. Boring stuff! Make up your own problems of how you would share a sudden windfall with family and friends. Endless fun.
Like to knit, crochet, embroider, regular or crewel? How about music -- listening or playing? Television? DVDs? Throw in a little gardening and yard work? The day will come soon enough when you have to hire the teenagers next door.
Have trouble filling up those hours? Why? We couch potato types like ceramics, charcoal and chalk drawings, photography, redecorating, magazines, mysteries, bird watching.
There is no end to the life-changing, fun and valuable happenings to be had in unplanned retirements. It is so boomer of AARP to turn enjoyable living into a long-term tedious project.
You don't know what you will be missing.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
The Center Of Attention
A person of my acquaintance used to say she wished that just once she could have been the center of attention. (As she talked nonstop, she was always the center of attention wherever she was. But that's a story for another time).
You've known people who wear the most nondescript casual clothes. Perhaps they talk very little. They sit at the back of the classroom and cringe for fear someone will notice them.
Then, there is the showoff who acts like children waving excitedly because they think they know the right answer. Children or adults, there are all kinds of human animals. Some have an insatiable need to be the center of it all. Others are content with just being, and being all they can be.
A recent incident called attention to the fact that while some people face adversity and just let it slide right off, others use it as an excuse for attention. Some ask for prayer support for themselves while ignoring the same kinds of requests from their friends. Some expect their friends and acquaintances to rally around them all the time. Others face the adversity just with the help of God.
As the saying goes, "Different Strokes for different folks." I don't worry too much about the center of attention types. They don't have any trouble getting their needs met. They whine and clamor until they do.
It's the quiet ones who can't ask for help and attention that I worry about. They weather the storms alone and probably could use a shoulder to cry on like the others.
Don't ignore the ones who seek your attention, but don't ignore the quiet ones either. They may be hiding their tears inside.
You've known people who wear the most nondescript casual clothes. Perhaps they talk very little. They sit at the back of the classroom and cringe for fear someone will notice them.
Then, there is the showoff who acts like children waving excitedly because they think they know the right answer. Children or adults, there are all kinds of human animals. Some have an insatiable need to be the center of it all. Others are content with just being, and being all they can be.
A recent incident called attention to the fact that while some people face adversity and just let it slide right off, others use it as an excuse for attention. Some ask for prayer support for themselves while ignoring the same kinds of requests from their friends. Some expect their friends and acquaintances to rally around them all the time. Others face the adversity just with the help of God.
As the saying goes, "Different Strokes for different folks." I don't worry too much about the center of attention types. They don't have any trouble getting their needs met. They whine and clamor until they do.
It's the quiet ones who can't ask for help and attention that I worry about. They weather the storms alone and probably could use a shoulder to cry on like the others.
Don't ignore the ones who seek your attention, but don't ignore the quiet ones either. They may be hiding their tears inside.
Monday, September 1, 2014
And A Hundred Other Things
A lifetime friend of mine is having a bad time this summer. And it will get worse before it gets better, because her husband has been put in a nursing home and she has been told he will not be going home again. No, she usually doesn't read my blogs.
Some of her friends, whom I have never met, were heard to say "if your husband were in a nursing home this summer and a hundred other things were going wrong . . ."
Remember Dang, my ex? Well, he has been in a nursing home for over two years. Although he has had three other wives since me, I still occasionally have little "do this's" to take care of for him. These seem to have slowed some since Easter. In fact, they have been at a dead standstill since my car broke down on August 7. If we can't find the correct part, which Oldsmobile quit making while knowing they had a problem with it, it will be terminal.
At the same time I got this good news, I noticed my driver's license had not arrived on schedule. I called the local office. They said to call the state. The state said they showed I had paid for it but it had not been printed. Thus, said they, I had to go back to the local office and take my proof of residency again . . . and stand in line again and wait again.
Now, presents a new dilemma. I have to travel thirteen or fourteen miles from home for a legally required matter, and my closest "real" friend was miles and miles the other way. My family that drives was even further. The friend that I called came to help. I gave her 20 of my last 30 dollars cash for gas and we went on our way. Ah, luck smiled after all -- the line was very short.
My friend said $20 was too much for gas, so decided we would use the extra $10 for lunch at a Chinese restaurant she had heard about. Around here, Chinese lunches are usually four or five dollars, but lunch that day was over eight per person. So, I wound up spending most of my last $10. Number one son came by and needed the rest for bus fare, since my car was down. I have been here broke long enough to receive the driver's license and almost run out of food. But never fear, payday is Wednesday and I'll have a ride to the store on Thursday or Friday.
While dealing with all the trauma today, the neighbor from h e double hockey sticks returned from a trip and a bat got into my home and flew downstairs into my living room. Now, folks, does it sound to you like I'm a stranger to trouble? If you have been following my three blogs, you know the real truth.
And then the current truth is that I let these friends of my friend rile me today when I should have just walked away --figuratively, that is.
But, of course, I would be better prepared to understand others if I had a husband in a nursing home and were dealing with a hundred other things. Then I would be sure not to blow my cool like everybody else. (LOL)
Some of her friends, whom I have never met, were heard to say "if your husband were in a nursing home this summer and a hundred other things were going wrong . . ."
Remember Dang, my ex? Well, he has been in a nursing home for over two years. Although he has had three other wives since me, I still occasionally have little "do this's" to take care of for him. These seem to have slowed some since Easter. In fact, they have been at a dead standstill since my car broke down on August 7. If we can't find the correct part, which Oldsmobile quit making while knowing they had a problem with it, it will be terminal.
At the same time I got this good news, I noticed my driver's license had not arrived on schedule. I called the local office. They said to call the state. The state said they showed I had paid for it but it had not been printed. Thus, said they, I had to go back to the local office and take my proof of residency again . . . and stand in line again and wait again.
Now, presents a new dilemma. I have to travel thirteen or fourteen miles from home for a legally required matter, and my closest "real" friend was miles and miles the other way. My family that drives was even further. The friend that I called came to help. I gave her 20 of my last 30 dollars cash for gas and we went on our way. Ah, luck smiled after all -- the line was very short.
My friend said $20 was too much for gas, so decided we would use the extra $10 for lunch at a Chinese restaurant she had heard about. Around here, Chinese lunches are usually four or five dollars, but lunch that day was over eight per person. So, I wound up spending most of my last $10. Number one son came by and needed the rest for bus fare, since my car was down. I have been here broke long enough to receive the driver's license and almost run out of food. But never fear, payday is Wednesday and I'll have a ride to the store on Thursday or Friday.
While dealing with all the trauma today, the neighbor from h e double hockey sticks returned from a trip and a bat got into my home and flew downstairs into my living room. Now, folks, does it sound to you like I'm a stranger to trouble? If you have been following my three blogs, you know the real truth.
And then the current truth is that I let these friends of my friend rile me today when I should have just walked away --figuratively, that is.
But, of course, I would be better prepared to understand others if I had a husband in a nursing home and were dealing with a hundred other things. Then I would be sure not to blow my cool like everybody else. (LOL)
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