Category House and Home

No, not yet

Michael Leave a comment

Across the USA and Canada, billions of people are celebrating Labor and or Labour Day. So there are probably millions of bloggers publishing the collective histories of the holidays. (Do you suppose there was some collusion that two countries came up with the same holiday within months of each other? It couldn’t have been coincidence, could it?) The few who don’t believe in organized labor but are more than happy to take the extra day off – with pay even – are celebrating the last day of summer. Now you see, that’s the one I don’t believe in.

Blog ArtFor as long as I can remember, which stretches back almost to halfway through the last century, Memorial Day has always been the “unofficial start of summer” and Labor Day its “unofficial ” end. Even the meteorologists get in on it, calling September 1 the start of Meteorologic Fall. According to my calendar, Fall doesn’t happen until the 22d day of this month and September 1 was National Tofu Day.

Yes I firmly believe Labor Day is NOT the end of summer. We might have furniture sales, we may frown on wearing white, and the pools might be closed, but the sun is still high in the sky, leaves are still high in the trees, and daytime temperatures are high enough to threaten heat stroke. That last point will be made several times, no, several thousand times over as high school and college athletes fall to the ground under the stifling weight and closeness of helmets and other protective gear in heat related injuries requiring no opponent contact, and marching band musicians and performers will do likewise in their often plumage featured uniforms designed for the coolness of autumn and the coldness of winter, football being a fall sport that often stretches into the still next season. We may not wear white but delivery and parcel service drivers everywhere will still be wearing short pants, and female TV news anchors won’t be giving up their sleeveless tops just yet. The pools and water parks might close but the lakes and swimming holes are still in business.

No, Labor Day is NOT the end of summer. We might be inundated with pumpkin spice everything and the food magazines may be featuring desserts with the classic fall warming spices, but in the backyard gardens the pumpkins are still only softball size on their vines next to the ripening tomato plants, loaded pepper plants, and never ending zucchini vines. Yard care still requires a lawn mower while the leaf rake and blowers stay hung on their hooks in the backyard garden sheds. Apple cider flavored donut holes may be featured in bakeries but cider presses are still idle waiting for the featured ingredient to ripen naturally.

So…Labor Day is the end of summer? Uh, no, not yet. Once again man makes up some oddball “rule”and then wonders why nature won’t follow suit. Well for me, I’m sticking with Mother Nature. Labor Day is NOT the end of summer. Stay tuned though. In a little less than a month you can consider having that tune up done on your snow blower. 

The grass in your side of the fence can be green too. The grass is reality, water is the motivation. Put enough motivation into a plan and you can accomplish anything. Let your motivation flow like water at www.roamcare.org. While you’re there, check out the rest of our site, then share us with your friends and family!

Based on a story by…

Michael 4 Comments

I don’t know why but last weekend I was thinking about Raymond Chandler, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Alfred Hitchcock. Not necessarily in that order. As I’ve written before, I don’t know why I think the things I do, but I do and that is enough to make me think, and then think that I’d rather not want to think about it.

It all started with me re-reading The Curious Case of Benjamin Button which got me thinking about how a movie and a book can be so different. A movie and a 600 page novel, an epic, the proverbial tome may differ because who could get all that detail into a movie people would be willing to sit through, except perhaps Gone With the Wind, but that has its own problems. But with Ben, or BB as I like to call him, that’s a short story, and still Eric Roth managed to write a 2-1/2 hour movie based on a tale that took me a fifth of that time to read, with a bathroom break thrown in. How did he do that! The answer is, he didn’t. Roth and story writing partner Robin Swicord wrote a different story with a title and a character of the same name. It’s a good movie. It’s a good short story. They just aren’t the same. And that’s been going on pretty much since we’ve had movies.

William Faulkner’s 1944 treatment of Hemingway’s To Have and Have Not does the same thing. A character or two are mentioned in both book and movie, and those plus the title are the total of what remains of the story the movie was based on. Now the 1950 adaption, “The Breaking Point,” by screenwriter Ranald MacDougall is much closer to the Hemingway classic. It’s on a different ocean and there’s an extra couple of characters, but it’s recognizable as being a story based on. But does that make it better than the 1944 classic or just different?

You can’t say that Faulkner, who was no slouch in the book writing department, was flexing his writing muscles, because he quite faithfully followed Chandler’s The Big Sleep, changing only what needed changed to make the movie acceptable to those who moderated the 1946 version of the production code (and to make it acceptable to those who wanted to see Bogart and Bacall become Bogart and Bacall). Perhaps that is why when Chandler took to the task of writing the screenplay to Patricia Highsmith’s Strangers on a Train, he stayed as close as he could to the original story. Oh wait, you’re going to say, they aren’t close at all. You might even say in the movie, the strangers are on an entirely different track than the one the train chugs along on in the psychologically thrilling novel. The “Strangers” presented by Alfred Hitchcock that we see is not the version Chandler wrote. That script ran afoul of the censors (and to a large extent, of Alfred) and was almost entirely rewritten by Czenzi Ormomde. 

When Chandler and co-screenwriter Billy Wilder adapted James M. Cain’s Double Indemnity, they took much liberty with the original story, changing names and timelines, and most radically, they added a new character, the insurance investigator, which created a completely different story.  

“Double Indemnity” and “Strangers on a Train,” a double dose of two books, two movies, four stories, none of them bad but none of them based on any other. So maybe when you have great writers adapting great works of writing, you will get great results, just not always recognizable as the story they are based on. 

Now let’s talk about what Leon Uris and Dalton Trumbo did with “The Exodus.”

Blog Art (26)

Blog Art (25)Everybody is more engaged and more fun to be around when they feel valued, and they feel most valued when they are treated like people. Read why we say good manners never go out of style at www.roamcare.org. While you’re there, check out the rest of our site, then share us with your friends and family!

 

More words please

Michael 1 Comment

Once upon a time I wrote a post and I said, “The English language is said to have close to a million words in it. I’m not sure who counted that but the most complete, or as they would put it unabridged dictionary of the English language, the Oxford English Dictionary, has about 620,000 words. But language doesn’t equal vocabulary. And vocabulary doesn’t equal language. The average educated English speaking person knows around 20,000 words and uses but about 2,000 words in a week of talking and writing.” There are some things those 600,000+ words just aren’t up to task when it comes to describing them. As in them, the things that need describing, not the things that are described. See, right there, that’s where 620,000 words are just not enough. We need more words! And here are some examples.

Blog Art (24)Speaking of things that describe, we’ve been so busy lately so busy making up rules about pronouns to effectively represent people, that we’ve missed it completely that when it comes to things. When writing, or speaking or even texting (although I hesitate to include text message characters as representative of the English language), and reference is made to two objects introduced in the same sentence, in subsequent reference to one or both (or even more!) our current batch of pronouns is woefully inadequate. And we end up writing things like, “As in them, the things that need describing, not the things that are described.”  We need a good shorthand way to refer to thing one and thing two through the duration of the missive.

IMG_2448If I tell you to picture in your mind classic gray sweatpants, you know exactly what I mean. The picture in your mind is unambiguous. And you no doubt can fill in the rest of the catalog with several tops (long, short, and sans sleeves) and short versions of those pants. But what’s the stuff they are made of? We can describe it, but can we name it? Gray sweatsuit material is just too long. It’s usually cotton but to say, “it’s too warm today for long pants, I think I’ll exercise in my cotton shorts,” sounds like I’m headed to the gym in my underwear. Athletic wear is confused with athleisure which is just spandex you wear in the outside. Technically that gray stuff is a sort of flannel but if I say I plan to jog in my gray flannel suit, people will expect to see someone running down the street more formally attired than I’m comfortable running in. Nope, we need a new word for gray sweatsuit material and that’s that.

Body bathers, time for you to tell me what you call this: hmm, these:IMG_0027

While you’re wondering what kind of trick question this is, I’ll speak to the others for a moment. I figure there are three kind of showerers/bathers. There are those who use something like that picture, there are those who use a wash cloth, and there are those (usually very macho men who smell not much better apres shower) who stand under the water, make some squealing type sounds while lathering up with just the soap (usually bar soap) and slapping or rubbing it in with their bare hands. You’re going to say, “But what about loofah users? That makes 4 kinds.” I don’t think there are any loofah users left in the world. They’ve all died out from fungal skin infections from not properly washing their loofahs, which by the way, are not represented in that first picture. The things in that picture are puffs, body puffs or so they are called if you were to look for them on the internet. These are not to be confused with powder puffs, steel wool puffs, or crab puffs. Nor actual loofahs. The point is, there too many puffs. We can’t just call anything that is puffy a puff. We need at least 4 new words added to the army of 600,000.

Blog Art (23)

Actually, the real point is, I didn’t have anything to write about this week so I stretched things a bit. You might say, I published a piece of puff — but by no means, a puff piece!

Blog Art (22)Did you on June 29 Earth completed a full rotation on its axis 1.59 milliseconds ahead of schedule? Time flies! We talked about that last week at www.roamcare.org? Get over there now and read what we had to say.

While you’re there, check out the rest of our site, then share us with your friends and family!

More things I think I think, I think

Michael 2 Comments

Sometimes I think those things that I think and I think what the heck am I thinking? For example for instance like:

We all have had red towels or blue jeans or black shirts that we will not under any circumstances wash with anything else the first maybe 3 or 4 times until the color stops bleeding because we don’t want to pull pink, or robin’s egg blue, or gray clothes from the washer. But we don’t do that with white. Most white textiles don’t start out that white. That’s a dye that makes them white but we happily toss them in the wash right from the get go. Every now and then as we are we sorting and folding and hanging and doing whatever in order to out away those freshly laundered clothes we will look at a load and say, darn, these shirts/jeans/towels/socks and underwear are fading.  Has anybody out there ever considered that maybe they aren’t fading but those new white jeans you tossed in the load had bled white dye? Just wondering.

Or make this for like example:

Remember when I talked about my microwave being a real nag. It still is and it still beeps periodically whenever I’m not in a hurry to take out whatever it was that I put in there. And I asked, who forgets they put food in the microwave? And then I answered myself. Stoners man. Well, I’ve been so intent on making sure I get stuff out of the microwave in a timely manner before it beeps at me, that I never noticed when I open the door, it beeps at me. Why? I know I’m opening the door. Do I have to be warned that I’m opening the microwave door? Who else would care that the microwave is being opened? And then it dawned on me…stoners, man! Those same guys who would stick a bag of popcorn in the microwave and in 90 seconds completely forget about it, are the ones who would want to know if somebody else is making off with their popcorn!

Or sometimes like this:

Regular readers, or even irregular readings if they read the right posts, know I like old movies. Old like 1930s, 1940s, in a pinch maybe early 1950s movies. As far as I’m concerned, and as far as anybody else with half a brain knows, they were just better back then. Really long term readers know I like to read movie credits. They were better back then too. They were certainly easier to read. A casual movie goer has no idea who did the accounting or catering or painted the scenery for Casablanca. As it should be. It seemed sometime in the 60s, when movie making took a decisive down turn in quality, they also wanted the viewer to know everybody who came close to the camera, even the guy who drove the truck that pulled the trailers the movie stars hung out in when they weren’t in front of the camera. It was sometime then they also made a monumental change in the credits besides just crediting everybody and their proverbial brothers. And this one made sense. The copyright date. Sometime in the 60s or maybe 70s, they started publishing the copyright date in Arabic numerals. Those are the numbers like 1,2, 3 (which is weird because they were “invented” in 6th century India) rather than I, II, III (you know, Roman numerals, which oddly really were invented around Rome, or roughly the area that modern day Tuscany occupies). You can read the entire credit crawl of In a Lonely Place and never lose your place until you get to the copyright. Then it’s “hmm, let’s see, MCM, that’s easy 1900. Okay now, XLI… dammit, come back! I almost had it…wait, that’s too many characters anyway. It came out in ’50, that’s just L. Or did it. Oh H-E-double hockey sticks, now I have to go look it up.” Even old books published copyright dates in Roman Numerals. Why couldn’t they have used real numbers then? Was there a law? We got a bunch of other crazy laws, so maybe so.

And then that started me thinking about crazy laws but we’ll let them pass for now.

If you’re curious…In a Lonely Place indeed was released in 1950 (MCML) but the screenplay was copyrighted in 1949 (MCMXLIX).

2 + 2 5

 

0A79A615-12D6-4721-B5A3-2771503E058CWhat’s the most significant day in your life? Did we answer that question last week at www.roamcare.org? Get over there now and read what we said about that!

Check out the rest of our site too, then share us with your friends and family!

 

Your wealth is in your well-being

Michael 4 Comments

Someone finally hit it. The billion dollar plus Mega Millions lottery prize has been won. By one person. Or by one ticket. It could have been a pool of a couple dozen people each throwing $10 into a hat to maximize their odds. Or I suppose that technically would be to minimize their odds. I wasn’t one of them. Although my odds were just as good. I’ve written about it more than once. Everything in life is fifty-fifty. No long odds there. Either it will or it won’t. Either it doesn’t or it don’t. Pass or fail. True or false. That’s life.

But somebody’s coin did fall heads up, or tails down if you’d rather and they woke up Saturday morning at least $350 million richer. That’s about what they would get out of a billion dollar prize after taxes if they took the cash option. Of course from that they would have the fees they will undoubtedly incur when they hire the some bodies to advise them if they should take the cash or wait out the annuity payments, to rewrite their wills, trusts, and all the other legal things suddenly mega-rich people need, to find them suitable new houses (at least 3), cars (5), boats (2, maybe 3) and a plane (just one), to ghost write their book on how to become a billionaire and to represent their book and the movie rights, someone to see them “professionally” to deal with the psychological trauma of saying no to so many people who will be asking for money, and finally, the private security firms to keep people away so they can’t ask them for money. After all those expenses they will have at least a quarter billion left and will complain that everybody has a piece of their good fortune except them!

Since those earliest hours of Saturday morning when the announcement went out that there was a winner, pundits, professional and thems like me, have been churning out “ah, but the real wealth isn’t in dollars and diamonds, it is deep within you” articles. And you know what? They’re right! Oh I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor and believe me poor is a lot better. No, that’s not original. That line has been attributed to almost every rich person to walk down Hollywood Blvd. but it’s true. I have been both and on balance, I slept better richer. But I don’t know that I would say I was happier. I likely wasn’t although I was never billion dollar rich versus living in a cardboard box poor. I’m sure there it is difficult to convince someone they have all they need as long as they have love in their hearts when their bodies are living on the street. But on balance, you shouldn’t need a billion dollars, or even 250 million to be happy.

So for the several billion ticket buyers who did not win, please join me in saying, I have my health, clean water, food, clothes, and a roof over my head and I’m rich beyond my dreams. But boy, once I’d like to know what really rich rich feels like. Hmm, I understand the Power Ball is up around $170 million. That would work too!

Blessitude Posts (1)

Blog Art (17)

Did you take the Ever Will I Always quiz at www.roamcare.org last week? What are you waiting for? Get over there now and see how good a person you really are!

Check out the rest of our site too, then share us with your friends and family!

That’s what happiness is!

Michael 2 Comments

A couple days ago I was doing my housework and had just completed the vacuuming part of the dust and vacuum routine. I looked across the room as I was stowing the machine’s cord and broke out into a big smile. I might have broken out in song but if so I was singing subconsciously. If I was singing at all, I would have been singing along with the Ray Conniff Singers as they warbled they way through the 1966 Parnes and Evans composition, “Happiness Is,” for few things instigate as big a smile on my face as seeing those parallel tracks of the vacuum wheels across a newly cleaned carpet. I was struck so happy by the event, I actually remarked on it to a friend later in the day, questioning if she too experiences that odd joy. “No,” she literally deadpanned, “but the husband does. It must be a guy thing,” and dismissed the entire event as something only half the world could enjoy.

Eh. She’s probably right. In fact, vacuum tracks in carpets bring inordinate happiness to probably even less than half the world because I know for sure there are way more men who haven’t even pushed a vacuum around a living room to have seen such a remarkable sight. To them, an oil pan drain plug not leaking after a DIY oil change likely brings that profound happiness.  The point is, as Ray’s singers will have you singing along, happiness is “different things to different people!”

These aren’t the pillars of happiness: life, liberty, and the pursuit of really big, life changing events. These are the little things that are part of getting us from one hour to the next, the things that turn drudgery into if not joy, at least something faintly tolerable.

It won’t solve all of earth’s problems, but it is possible that if we spent more time enjoying what makes us happy and less time becoming frustrated when we can’t figure it why we aren’t as happy as others doing what makes them happy, or worse trying to foist our idea of happiness onto anyone else, we might all end up a little happier. And happier people are less likely to instigate world wars.

People are unique. Even people who grow up together, live together, and love together, don’t have to love everything about each other. Yes, it is the differences among people that make us collectively great, but it is appreciating the differences and encouraging others to pursue those differences that bring them happiness that make us collectively awesome!

Somewhere in your psyche is some quirk of life that brings you immense joy. Relish in the quirk and savor that joy. Don’t give it up for anybody and if somebody should ever admit to you that they get untold happiness from hearing the creak of a rocking chair, encourage them to creak all they want and hope they someday will encourage you to continue chasing your dream of parallel tracks on carpets, or whatever makes you smile at the enjoyment of living life. Because, that’s what happiness is.

What’s your happiness?

IMG_0002

Happiness Is

Blog Art (16)Did you stop by ROAMcare last week to read the meaning of life in five words. It’s worth the 3 minutes it takes to read the other 495 at www.roamcare.org. And check out the rest of our site too. Everything you need to refresh your enthusiasm for life with that extra motivation you need to push through the day! Stop by and visit, then share us with your friends and family!

Brain Dump – Again!

Michael Leave a comment

Welcome to a new edition of “Let’s clear those brain cells!” or “Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most.”

IMG_2117Stay in your lane

Well, this fellow actually found his own lane to hang out in. I’m not sure what the laws in your state are but here, that much yellow paint in unmistakable diagonal lines means “no parking.”  This isn’t so bad. At least he isn’t parked in the diagonal blue lines next to a handicap space.  [sigh]

Shopping math, cyber edition

If you haven’t read any of my posts on toilet paper math, go there first. My daughter brought this one to my attention. So many discount, rebate, and coupon sites now are online, and all of them offer to find you the absolute best deal available – compared to regular posted prices. When you load multiple versions you are apt to find one offering you 5% of the regular price but only if you shop at the store with a coupon, another with 2% off the sale price but only if you shop online, or another offering free shipping but only if you buy it in magenta and are willing to answer a 45 question survey first. On a Tuesday. This all started when I mentioned I bought a new iPad last week from Amazon but I could have gotten the same deal at Target and saved 5% with their Red Card. I was all set to do that when it dawned on me that I was using a couple hundred dollars in gift cards that I had gotten by answering a variety of 45 question surveys and that beat 5% any day! [duh]

IMG_2029Old enough to drink

Last month my little car hit a milestone. It turned 21. Actually, It’s nearly 23 now but I don’t count the years before I adopted it. In honor of it’s birthday I had it retitled as a classic vehicle. As a classic I was able to negotiate a replacement price with my insurance company which is a good thing because given its condition, it’s worth more than 2-1/2 times the actual “blue book value.” Oddly enough, now that it is insured for 3 times what it was two months ago, the annual rate dropped by exactly half. I know the insurance company isn’t going to lose money on this deal. Hmm. I wonder if those guys ever took toilet paper math.

samsung-and-apple-logoBrand Disloyalty

I mentioned a few brain cells ago that I recently purchased a new iPad. It replaced a Samsung Galaxy tablet which itself replaced a Nook e-reader, which replaced a Bookman. (If you don’t recognize Bookman, you aren’t missing much. I don’t think it has been around since sometime in the 90s.) For some people, the thought of switching operating systems is absolutely unheard of. Families have been torn apart because someone dared stray from whatever everyone else had. Not me. I can flex. Right now I have an Apple phone and tablet, a Dell laptop and an HP desktop running Windows. The old tablet could mirror with the laptop but the desktop is so old it’s more of a paperweight right now and it only mirrors my reflection in its almost always darkened screen. It’s only the third desktop I’ve owned, the previous was a Gateway (wow, remember them!?) and before that, an Apple. Yes, in 1984 I bought my first Apple which was probably before some of the people who are running that company now were born. I doubt I’ll ever replace the desktop with another Apple. I doubt I’ll ever replace the desktop. When the laptop goes (and boy do they go – I can’t keep track of how many laptops I’ve had), I’ll figure out who has the best deal for what I want to use it for, of there are any deals available, and who has the best coupon code to use. But only after I review my post on toilet paper math.

That’s it for now. See you later!

IMG_2076

Blog Art (14)Did you stop by ROAMcare last week to read our take on “Special are those who plant trees knowing that they shall never sit in their shade,” the counterpoint to my post here last week? If you missed it, you can check it out now at www.roamcare.org. (Later this week we explain the meaning of life in five words! That posts Wednesday, July 20. You’ll want to read that one for sure!)

Mortgaging the future

Michael Leave a comment

Mortgaging the future. That’s a term now more often associated with sports. When a team’s general manager is willing to trade young players and prospects for an established star player who can help the team win right now, usually at trade deadline, usually with the hope that one roster addition means the difference between a championship and an also-ran season, he is said to have mortgaged the future of the team, knowingly trading away the two in the bush for a bird who might not eat out of his hand.

What got me thinking about giving away the farm for a chance at immediate fame and glory? It was a different blog for a different audience at a different site doing the final edits for this Wednesday’s post to be released on the ROAMcare site. That post has nothing to do with giving anything away, especially the future. Quite the opposite. I will share the teaser for it.

“We have a responsibility to prepare for the future even if we might not be here for it. We become truly great when we are willing to plan, prepare, act, and do that which will not benefit us. Are you ready for that?”

When you spend so much of your time always motivating you can, and I do get a little wacky now and then. It’s hard to be motivating without getting emotionally wrapped up in all that those topics touch. Perhaps we should be called emotionalvating authors and speakers! Anyway… I got to thinking. If we become great when we do something now when we know for sure it will not benefit us at all in the future, what do we become when we are willing to give up something we know we are guaranteed to have in our future for a few extra minutes of immediate gratification.

First, let us understand there are sometimes when it might be perfectly acceptable to trade something in the future for something in the now. For example, there might certainly have been some time in your life when you said, “I would give up anything to be able to [fill in the blank].” That might well be considered an altruistic approach to life. No, the type of trade off I am thinking of is more like, “I don’t care if I ever get to do that again if I can only have what I want right now.” And not even what I want right now and then have forever. Just for what I want right now. For another example, would you give up having contact with your entire family forever if you only could have an hour of somebody’s unwavering attention right now? Preposterous, you say? Nobody would ever do that?

Think about it. Isn’t that what an unfaithful spouse is gambling? The loss of a lifetime partner in exchange for an hour of physical bliss. What about the child who leaves home, swapping all the ups and downs of being a family to set out alone because “they won’t support my dream?” What about the addict, knowing they are an addict, but having to have that “one more bump even if it’s my last” and not caring if indeed it will be? These are far different than “I’d give anything to have one more dinner with my deceased parents.” These are, “He (or she) makes me so happy I don’t care if you don’t ever talk to me again” and really meaning it, which then more often then leads to “I’d give anything to have one more dinner with my not yet deceased parents.” And really meaning it.

Often the idea of giving up the future to satisfy the present really doesn’t mean giving up the future. Perhaps it means altering it a bit, but rarely do people truly mortgage their future. The otherwise never disgruntled employee who leaves a job because he “can’t believe they would promote that fool,” doesn’t leave without knowing he still has a talent he can sell, and he will still see his colleagues at meetings and conferences. He isn’t giving up anything.  But when that same person who says, “These few minutes with you mean everything in the world to me and I don’t care who knows it,” when he is not speaking to his wife and his wife knows it, and so does her lawyer, now he has mortgaged his future. The child who says to his parent, “If going to school across the country means I never see you again in my life, then I would rather never see you again in my life,” is mortgaging his future.

Have you ever wanted something so badly you would give anything (really, anything!) to get it? Have I? Had I? Is it possible we may have had done just that without realizing it? If you think about it, the people who would trade their futures, and presumably others’ happiness, to indulge themselves would seem to be pretty low on the “nice to be around” scale. But maybe at the moment we don’t realize that. They, or we, likely have many good qualities. They may enjoy professional success and the company of friends. Maybe it is only after discovering there could have been something more permanent, more committed, more faithful, that the question of “what brought me here?” is raised. Maybe they (we(?), I(?)) have traded the commitment of close companionship or the unconditional love of others for the attention of the few and immediate gratification and not yet realized it.

So, are there any good people who thrive on commitment and pure love? Yep, there are. They are the people willing to do now that something they will never get enjoyment from so others will benefit in their futures. I will be speaking of them in that other blog on Wednesday. It’s a better story than this one. Mark you calendar to go read it in a couple days.

Blog Art (15)

roamcare_logo-3If you haven’t had a chance to visit ROAMcare yet, stop by, refresh your enthusiasm and read our blogs, check out the Moments of Motivation, or just wander around the site. Everybody is always welcome.

Revisiting the Middle Seat

Michael 4 Comments

Back in July of 2020, July 9 to be exact, I published “The Middle Seat Hump Syndrome,” a clever little ditty if I say so myself wherein I compared the then fairly new encounter with the coronavirus, which we don’t even call it that any more. Toward the end of an honest to gosh true tale of summer family vacationing, I said with much assurance that we will all be fine in the long run. Guess what? I was right! Politicians, social media “experts” in-laws, naysayers, leftist, rightists, centrists all aside, I was right! We are pretty much okay as long as you don’t ask the 6.35 million people who lost their lives. Yes that number could have been smaller had we paid less attention to the politicians, social media “experts” in-laws, naysayers, leftist, rightists, but we’re stupid so we didn’t. Maybe next time we will.

Because today is the Fourth of July, which of course everybody knows is officially American Independence Day, and because the entire country is out there burning gas we don’t have to pursue their right to a family vacation, I thought I’d regale you again, with “The Middle Seat Hump Sydrome,” with that pesky typo corrected even!

20200708_235806

You need to be of a certain age to remember summer vacations in the family car with enough family that it filled all the seats, three across, and the middle seat made the leg room in coach on Delta look generous for there, right where your feet wanted to be, was “the hump,” the growth in the floorboard that rose nearly to seat level, to allow whatever it was that transferred the up and downs of the engine to the round and round of the rear wheels to make it’s way from the motor to the where the rubber met the road. I am of that age and had been on those vacations and I got that middle seat.

It wasn’t always like that. For a while there were just two of us in the back and we would each get out own window seats with plenty of room between for the picnic basket and cooler that were only opened at planned stops along the way. Then the third one came along. At first it wasn’t such a big deal. She started out in the baby seat in the middle of the front seat (yes, that’s where we put them when we used them back then). After she outgrew that space, she shifted to the back but because those short, stubby legs didn’t even make it off the seat, the hump was not impediment to her comfort. Eventually though, she grew and with that, so did the complaining. “I don’t want to sit on the hump!” And the word came from the front, “take turns.” From then on, whenever the car stopped, the back seat crowd reshuffled, and everyone got a turn being uncomfortable where we decidedly didn’t want to be.

That’s a little like what’s going on in the world now. Each time it appears to be stopping, or at least slowing enough to risk opening the door and get off this crazy ride, the virus comes back, and we have to reshuffle. Do we limit contact, should we close down again, does this mask make my nose look big? Regardless of the answer, some bodies are going to end up decidedly where they don’t want to be doing what they’d rather not be doing or not doing what they’d rather do. Think of the world as an early ’64 Chevrolet and were all taking turns sitting on the hump.

I’m going to spoil the ending for you. It all works out. Nobody was permanently damaged from sitting with a leg there and the other one there. We climbed out of the backseat a little stiff and a little sore but we made. We’ll make it through this also. Maybe a little worse for the wear after this ride that you are certain we got lost on because no way it should be taking this long, but eventually we are going to climb back out into the world.

Middle seat hump syndrome was never that horrible and may have been the inspiration for some future engineer to design SUVs with higher cabins that clear all those mechanical doodads or to shift the driving wheels to the front and obviate the need for a hump running down the middle if the cars interior. Along those same lines it could be someday we might even get to go out and not have to check that we have our masks with us. We just have to wait for the right expert to come up with the right solution. They are out there. There will find it.

In the meanwhile, Happy Motoring!

roamcare_logo-3If you haven’t had a chance to visit ROAMcare yet, stop by, refresh your enthusiasm and read our blogs, check out the Moments of Motivation, or just wander around the site. Everybody is always welcome.

Spreading Happiness

Michael 2 Comments

Some of my posts here on RRSB notwithstanding, I am a pretty happy person and I normally try to spready happiness wherever I am or whatever I do. Again, some recent RRSB posts notwithstanding. Just so I’m not the only one bearing the responsibility for the world’s happiness, I am calling on you to join in spreading happiness whenever and wherever you can. I even have some suggestions how to start. (Of course I do!)

If you should find yourself walking through a grocery store parking lot (or one of any mega-mart type shopping facility), do NOT walk down the center of the driving lane. Leave the spaces meant for cars to cars who might actually want to drive there. If you should find yourself walking through a parking lot with 3 of your closest friends or your children if all your friends are busy, do not walk four abreast. (This goes for inside the store also.) Making these small adjustments to your shopping walking style will spread much happiness – especially to who do it themselves when they are walking and now got a taste of what it’s like to be driving behind same.

If you should find yourself having just arrived at a gas station in your out-sized pickup truck that requires a small ladder to enter and exit, and having just arrived there at a high rate of speed, and having left your mini-monster truck idling so everyone can appreciate its deep basso rumble, do not complain about the price of gasoline. Better still, leave the testosterone reassurer at home and call on Uber or Lyft to run you to the store for your six pack. This will spread much happiness – particularly to those who recently refinanced their vehicles to afford gas your are guzzling.

If you should find yourself preparing to write a comment to post on Facebook about … well about anything, well … just don’t. This will spread much happiness – to everybody!

If you find yourself at the neighborhood pool, local swimming hole, water park, or anywhere where appearing half naked is acceptable outside of your own backyard and/or bathroom, and you find yourself having the urge to pick the lint out of your navel – PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T! That goes for self-pedicuring, ear wax removal, and performing the same procedures on others, including small children. This will spread much happiness – particularly to those with sense and sensibilities (and not just the kind you read).

HappyIf you find yourself at the neighborhood dive, local watering hole, or anywhere where karaoke is sung, unless you have a singing contract from a major record studio or 100% of the audience is drunk, including bartenders and the guy who sits outside the door trying to remember where he parked earlier in the evening, don’t be the first one up to sing. This will spread much happiness particularly to those wanting to sing but not wanting to be the first one up and them with an audible sigh of relief.

If you found yourself smiling at any of these, please like, comment, share, or talk about it over dinner tonight with a loved one or several. That will spread much happiness – particularly to me.

roamcare_logo-3If you haven’t had a chance to visit ROAMcare yet, stop by, refresh your enthusiasm and read our blogs, check out the Moments of Motivation, or just wander around the site. Everybody is always welcome.