Tag Priceless

Timely yet Priceless

Michael 2 Comments

Have you changed your clock back yet? If you’re somewhere where that happens, of course. If you’re not, then you shouldn’t have, so don’t now. I’m of two minds when it comes to these twice yearly time changes. Now the two minds aren’t I like it but I don’t like it. It’s the rule so I’m going to do it and not let my personal feelings intrude on my appropriate completion of this task. Like coming to a complete stop before making a right turn on red, particularly in the face of oncoming traffic. I might not like it but it’s what we’re supposed to do and not liking it out loud isn’t going to change that.

I don’t understand why Arizona doesn’t follow Daylight Savings Time. Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico, Samoa, and the US Virgin Islands don’t either but they’re isolated from the rest of the country so if they want to follow what their closest neighbors do, that makes sense. Arizona doesn’t. Oh sure, Arizonans didn’t have to wonder should I change my clock before I go to bed on Saturday or after I wake up on Sunday, but is that a fair exchange for being out of sync with their border state neighbors all summer long and tuning in for the 6:00 news an hour early for six months?

SlowClock

Anyway, my two minds are when to actually make the change. Nobody in their right mind is going to wake up at 2:00 am just to reset various timepieces. I certainly wouldn’t and I’m not necessarily that right in my mind. Besides, I not only wouldn’t but I couldn’t. I have other things to do when I change my clocks and I need to be alert which I certainly am not in the middle of the night. So that leaves the day before or the day after.

Typically I change my clocks before I go to bed. But not right before. If I waited till then I’d forget. So I change them when I think about it or hear or read a reminder. Usually that’s around 5 in the afternoon. That’s what time I changed them 2 days ago. Then for the next 6 hours I wondered every time I looked at a clock what time it really was. Since the computers and phones magically change themselves in the middle of the night I didn’t touch them. That meant that none of the clocks in the room matched the times on my cell phone and tablet which are my ever present recliner companions. And worse than that, the TV listings didn’t match the clock next to the TV. I’ve been changing my own clocks for over 40 years and I go through this dilemma twice a year every year. Next year I think I might wait until I wake up on Sunday to change them and see what happens.

By the way, tomorrow is a noteworthy if not outright special day for The Real Reality Show Blog. On November 7, 2011, I posted the first of now close to 600 posts. Except for a few months when I was in the intensive care unit at the local get well center, I got a post out every Monday and Thursday for six whole years – with an occasional off schedule day tossed in to keep you on your toes. And during all that, this amazing feat has been brought to you for nothing more than your energy to connect and your desire to read.

I want to thank you for your support and continued readership. It is only with that support that this blog is and always will be free. And worth every penny.

 

Swing Your Partner

Michael 1 Comment

Did you ever run across something that is just so bizarre you can’t stop watching?  Then you are ready to experience the world of tractor square dancing.  Go ahead and re-read that sentence all you want.  It really does end with “tractor square dancing.”

I don’t know when I first ran across this spectacle (there really is no other word for it).  I think it might have been some 10 years ago when my mother was sick and I would spend afternoons with her so she wouldn’t be alone.  It was this time of year and our state was holding its annual farm show which was televised on the statewide cable network.  Yes, I know this is January.  Yes, I said farm show.  No I don’t live in the southern hemisphere.  Yes, this is getting sillier by the paragraph.  Anyway, on television back then, in the middle of the afternoon, there were soap operas, Jerry Springer shows, or silly cable programs.  Neither my mother nor I were farm people, animal people other than the occasional house pet, prize winning produce people, and certainly not tractor people.  Yet between choosing among soaps, Springer, or Farmville, tractor square dancing caught our attention.

There was a couple year period when I thought I might have successfully detoxed from the phenomenon.  Again, it was about this time of year and I was on the phone with She.  Our televisions were on and the inevitable “What are you watching?” was asked.  “The farm show.”  “Haven’t seen that for a while.  What’s on?” “Tractor square dancing!”  Another victim — err, fan.

That was when I gave up and made it a point that every January I would click my way around the TV remote until I landed on the Tractor Square Dance event.  Four “couples” of antique tractors in a dirt arena, do-si-do-ing and allemande-ing under the direction of a dance caller just like a regular square dance but this one powered by John Deere and diesel.

I see you don’t believe me.  Go to your favorite search engine and type in “Tractor square dance.”  Among the 300,000 or so returns you will find plenty of clubs dong it all across the country.  And videos!  Watch the videos!  But don’t blame me if you get addicted.

Although not even a regular (?) square dance person, tractor square dancing is so out of the ordinary that I considered it (albeit briefly) for inclusion on the bucket list.  Apparently there is a group not that far from me that is always looking for new drivers.  No experience necessary.  In fact, no tractor necessary either.  They keep their own stable of antique tricycle configured contraptions.  I’m pretty good with a riding lawn mower.  How hard could it be?

Now, that’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Being Beholden

Michael 1 Comment

It’s here.  Or soon will be.  It is Friday, December 12, 2014, otherwise known as Ugly Christmas Sweater Day.  (And can somebody please explain why it’s ok to call it an ugly Christmas sweater but to be politically correct we have to wish each other happy holidays?) (But that’s a post for a different day.)  (Thank holidays.)

OK, Ugly Christmas Sweater Day has been officially going on for quite a few years but now seems to be really getting traction.  It could be because there are more television shows with ugly sweater themes, it could be because there are now television commercials with ugly sweater themes, or it could be that there are now commercials for ugly sweaters.  True, you won’t see them in prime time network airspace but they are there.  Plop “Ugly Sweater” into your favorite search engine and see what you get back.  One or two news blurbs and a lot of sales!  If you don’t want to buy you can even rent.

To be sure, Ugly Christmas Sweater Day is not at all about ugly Christmas sweaters any more than ugly Christmas sweaters are about ugly sweaters.  It’s a day to do its best to make you smile your smilest – err, your biggest smile.  🙂   Maybe even more than Ice Cream for Breakfast Day.  (If you forgot, that’s the first Saturday in February.)

To be even more sure, Ugly Christmas Sweater Day is to sweaters and sweatshirts and jerseys what ugly Christmas tie day is to ties and ugly Christmas hat day is to hats and ugly Christmas decorations day is to decorations.  It’s about the people who wear them and their exuberance for the holiday.  (Yes, the holiday – singular, as in Christmas, not the generic holidays – plural, for everyone too ashamed to admit there is something special that happened and is worth commemorating with all the energy befitting an irreplaceable occasion.)  (But that’s still a post for a different day.)  (Thank holidays.)

The people who celebrate Ugly Christmas Sweater Day aren’t interested in whether you think their sweaters are ugly.  Nor their ties or hats or Town Square Christmas trees.  They know they aren’t.  If they were they (the sweaters) would still be on the store shelves.  To them (the sweater wearers) they (the sweaters) are the most beautiful pieces of clothing they (do we really need to keep going) own.  Beautiful because they (sweaters) symbolize the joy and energy they (people) get to feel not just at Christmas but all year long.  Because, let’s even be most sure, you know darn well these are the same people who have an ugly Easter bonnet hiding in a closet for next spring.   And that’s just fine too!

Ugly Christmas Sweater Day, a new tradition worthy of being carried on through the next few generations, or at least the next few weeks.  And it’s so easy.  Find a sweater you think is just too cool to not be shared with everybody you pass on Ugly Christmas Sweater Day.  Wear it and share it.  Repeat.  Why should turkey be the only holiday tradition that returns for several days?

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

The Gift of Music

Michael Leave a comment

What do pumpkin cakes, ceramic penguins, dip dishes (with dip mixes in 2 flavors!), and holiday CDs have in common?  After tonight they will have all been party favors at our Christmas Eve dinner.

Christmas Eve is a special time for us.  It was the first holiday that we combined families at a formal gathering.  It was the first holiday that we lightened up a formal gathering.  And it’s probably the holiday that almost everybody most looks forward to.

Christmas Eve has also become a holiday that we never know exactly how many people will be with us.  Our core families will be there.  But there always is at least one extra couple and never invited by Either of We.  We don’t care.  There’s always room at the table.  But it makes those favors a bit interesting.  This year we decided on holiday music CDs.  You can’t beat a good Christmas Carol.  We have the gamut from Carol of the Bells to Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.  We’re planning on 10 at the table but we got 14 CDs because we’re never really sure.

A formal dinner for 14 might seem a bit extravagant to begin with.  Neither of We hit the rich mark in the ‘how well off are you’ scale.  We still manage to put together a traditional Italian feast of the seven fishes (for He of We’s side) and a traditional seafood themed American Christmas Eve (at She of We’s urging and to the great relief of many on He or We’s side).  With all that seafood, how do we manage to put together a dozen unique favors especially when they are favoring our guests with the gift of music, usually not an inexpensive offering.  He of We will take credit for that one.

We were out shopping and not even thinking of favors for Christmas Eve.  We had just finished up with Thanksgiving and were trying to shift ourselves from one holiday to another.  We ended up in one of our favorite, but not routinely visited stores.  It has literally everything.  Water heaters, garden flags, canned goods and canning goods.  Local sports teams doo-dads and needlework craft sets.  Hoses and hooks.  Books and — CDs.  While checking out the holiday themed flashlights He of We spotted a pair of spinner racks at the end of an aisle.  Thereupon sat hundreds of CDs.  All Christmas music, all the time.  And every one of them priced at one dollar.  One hundred cents, ten thin dimes, a buck a piece.  They had “favor” written all over them.

But (isn’t there always a but in a perfectly good favor find?), but, who gets what?  Who likes what?  We have a most eclectic Christmas Eve group.  We run the gamut from refined, retired ladies to a couple who met on an oil drilling rig.  Not to say that a well driller isn’t refined.  But there are probably differences in musical taste.  Do they get the CD with Mariah Carey, or the one with the studio group singing “Good King What’s His Name?”  And not only is the group eclectic.  So are the CDs.  Let’s face it, these are dollar CDs.  You aren’t getting the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for a dollar.  Well, actually, now, there were two of them that had selections sung by just that choir.  And some had Glen Campbell.  There were those with the London Symphony and there were those while listening you could Swing and Sway with Sammy Kaye.  Every case we turned we saw names we’d not imagine would see on a dollar CD.  Every couple of cases would actually bring out a little vocalization.  Yes, people did turn when She of We waved one she found with Liberace!  Most probably because she shouted, “Liberace!”

So we stood there, Each of We stationed at a spinner, sorting through the jewel cases like little kids picking out candy in the corner store.  Would this one work for She of We’s 28 year old son.  What about He of We’s cousin who grew up at the symphony.  Does anybody like country?  Does anybody like operatic?  Which semi-regular couple friend of a relative will show up this year?  Plan for both, we’ll never get another chance.  How could we resist?  It’s hard enough to be creative but to be creative on a budget is a million times harder.  To be creative for over a dozen people for less than a 20 dollar bill was a Christmas miracle.

Almost an hour later we were done.  Fourteen individual CDs plus a couple for our cars.  If you were to show up at our table this evening we’d probably have something to fit your taste.  You’d get something.  Everybody gets something.  It’s a rule.  And if you bring a lot of friends with you everybody will still get something.  We might run out of CDs but there are always the holiday crackers.  Maybe you’ll be the lucky one to sit through dinner wearing the paper hat.

Remember, everybody gets something.  It’s the rule!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

That Play’s The Thing, That Thing They Do

Michael Leave a comment

Have you ever been to a local community theater production of … anything? 

Those of you who answered yes are excused from the remainder of this missive.  You’re welcome to stay but you probably won’t read anything you don’t already know.  Then again, maybe you better stick around.  You never know what’s going to march across this screen.

Those of you who answered no are hereby put on double secret probation and you can’t get off of it until you go.  For Heaven’s sake, go!

Really, we are that taken by the power of the local community theater, from the over-acting to the kitschy program books, to the recorded music, to the cramped theaters.  This is entertainment.

Ok, this is also a little weird.  Grown people reliving their high school spring musical days?  Actually, it’s not so weird.  Grown people honing the talents they discovered in one of the “youth is wasted on the young” activities we’ve all been a part of but few keep alive.

Think of the other activities that made up your younger days and how you felt about them then.  Swimming every weekend at the local pool, knowing for sure that Greg Louganis was no match for your diving skills.  Confidently matching across the football field stepping two, turning left, stepping eight, twice in place, turn right, all while playing the flight song on your clarinet.  Even Benny Goodman couldn’t match your style.  Speeding along on the Schwinn, Day 4 of the Tour de France and your fourth day in the yellow shirt.  Taking the layup to the hoop, your hands above the rim, your signature shoes shimmering in the light of the studio lamps filming the commercial that used to feature that has been, Michael Somebodyorother.  Healthy activities every one.  Healthy imaginations to go with them.  Imagination.  A commodity many fear will never again reach the peak when we were young now that computer games have overtaken recreation as the child’s national pastime.

Now wait a minute, who is to say it has.  Don’t kids still ride bikes, and swim on weekends, and play high school sports, and march in bands?  Maybe we’re being a bit unfair.  Their imagination is still working.  It’s just taking a different turn.  And there are still high school musicals every spring.  (You knew eventually we’d get back to that, didn’t you?)

Those high school musicals.  Who didn’t walk out on to the stage knowing his or her next entrance would be at the Tony Awards?  But while the swimmer and the musician and the sports figure in us have stepped aside so we can fit into our adult life, the actor has found the community theater.  The actor, the director, the stage hand, the producer, the set decorator, the wardrobe and make-up artists all still have a home, a legitimate home where imagination still features raising the silver medallion of the masks comedy and tragedy.  So we applaud the actor, the director, the stage hand, and the others for sharing their imagination and presenting some of the most energetic live theater you’ll ever experience.

Paul Newman said, “To be an actor you have to be a child.”  We agree.  You have to have the wonder that children know and adults crave.  While the professional gets the great opportunity to live that wonder throughout a lifetime most of us only get fleeting moments of it as adults.  Throughout those little theaters tucked away in every neighborhood where lines are tortuously rehearsed, directions are painstakingly prepared, and stages are carefully dressed, the wonder of youth bathes everyone who enters.  Even the audience.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Six Weeks

Michael 2 Comments

Happy Groundhog Day!  For over 225 years Phil has been the reigning prognosticator of Punxsutawney Pennsylvania perusing his property for signs of his shadow to predict the waning winter’s weather.

What began as an adaptation of Candlemas for the local farmers not too distantly removed from their German homeland now brings an estimated 30,000 people to the Pennsylvania home of Punxsutawney Phil for 4 days of planned events highlighted by the shadow sighting on national news broadcast across our homeland. 

Now here we could tell you all the different things one can do in Phil’s little hamlet.  Who will be playing, singing, dancing, and crafting.  We could guess how many television cameras will be in use.  We could compare the last 2, 5, 10, 25, 100, 150, or 200 predictions and the actual results.  We could talk about the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club or The Inner Circle.  But really, you don’t need to hear from us if last year’s prediction was on the money or how much money the park vendors made. 

Nope, we’re just going to marvel at all that has become of our little rodent friend and all of his friends living in the sunny or shadowy mountains on the edge of the Allegheny National Forest.  Phil has his own official souvenir web-site.  The Inner Circle (those are the guys who pull him from the stump, we mean help him from his hollow) have an annual formal ball.  There are 60 chapters of the Groundhog Club from California to Florida and chapters in Canada, England, and Iraq.  There’s even an Internet chapter.  (The Bluegrass Chapter of Louisville, Kentucky was chartered on Feb. 2 2002, that’s 02-02-02.  There’s a lottery number waiting to be played!)  Other than the iconic “Groundhog Day” movie there isn’t much in the way of multimedia for our little friend but we did find 5 songs celebrating Groundhog Day including “Groundhog Blues” by John Lee Hooker. 

Unlike Candlemas in the 17th century we really don’t need Groundhog Day to tell us if we’re almost done with winter and can breathe a sigh of relief over our dwindling food and firewood supply or if the cold will stay with us for another 6 weeks and challenge our larder.  Groundhog Day in the 21st century is a time when grown men dress in formal attire and play with field animals, when people gather to figure out just how long Phil Conners (Bill Murray’s character in “Groundhog Day”) was stuck in Punxsutawney, when people get married in Phil’s Wedding Chapel  by the mayor of Punxsutawney (weddings on the half-hour, call ahead to get on the schedule), when it’s ok to be seen in public with a hat on your head that looks like a groundhog emerging from a tree stump.

It’s a time when it’s perfectly acceptable not to take yourself too seriously.  And we could probably use six more weeks of that.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

With Three You Get Collections

Michael 1 Comment

Where does a collection end and an obsession begin?  For that matter, where does a collection begin?  We believe that with two you have a spare.  With three you have a collection.   Webster prefers not to be so specific, calling a collection a mass or a pile, as in “that’s a pile of money you have there” if someone was to describe your twenty dollar bill collection.  But why do we even care?

In the news this weekend was the report that someone paid $1.38 million (a pile of money, for sure) for a penny.  It bears mentioning that it was a penny minted in 1793 and it was all copper.  Ok, it bears most mentioning that it was minted in 1793 but the news people all seemed a bit obsessed with it being copper, too.  That penny came up in our discussion over brunch and that’s why we care.

Those shows on television that claim to be reality shows (unlike this very blog you are reading that we know is the real reality show), might like to lead viewers to believe that finding a million dollar penny is no harder than breaking into your piggy bank, blowing the dust of the pennies that appear to be all copper, make up a good story to go with one, and drop it off at the local pawn shop.  If that doesn’t work, go bid on a storage shed that has been ignored by its renter for long enough to get on the “sell for rent” list and you will certainly find at least one million dollar penny, probably 3 or 4, taped to the inside of a clarinet case underneath the felt covering.  They’ll also tell you that if you don’t find that million dollar penny and you keep buying up clarinet cases looking for it, and you keep all the empty clarinet cases in the kitchen piled so high that you can’t get to your trash compactor, all it takes is a weekend with some assertive relatives and a professional organizer (household, not union), and you too can avoid eviction, commitment, or both.

But we digress…

She of We asked why somebody would pay so much for something that, at face value, is only worth one cent.  He of We cautioned her that she has art hanging on her wall for which somebody paid much more than face value if face value is calculated by the cost of canvas and paint.  It’s in the beauty of it.  It gives her joy to look at.  And there is the reason.  Beauty and joy trump face value every time.

The collecting game is probably not terribly rational.  There are many this weekend who are questioning the sanity of that unidentified buyer of the 1793 penny and his $1.38 million bid.  Both of We have several collections and in their entirety they don’t cost $1.38 million.  In their entirety they may not cost more than the computer you are using to read these words.  Yet there are still some people who may question the sanity of spending even just a few dollars for one more Mr. Potato Head, one more holiday inspired animated hat, or one more miniature version of a 1960’s era full size toy.  Some may question putting our risk of insanity in the same category of one who spends well over $1 million on a single coin as somewhat ambitious.  Then again, some people may consider putting a pile of hats that sing and move up and down in the same category as a coin collection is in itself pretty ambitious.

What is a collection?  Encarta gets a little more verbose than Webster and is willing to state that a collection is a set of objects held for its interest, value, or beauty.  So what is the value of that 1793 penny?  One cent?  $1.38 million?  It’s been said the value of any object is how much somebody is willing to pay for it, yet its worth is how much somebody wants for it.  Rarely are worth and value equal.  If our collections actually cost what we feel they are worth, they would far exceed our ability to pay for them, thus lowering their value to us.  But it is because we place such worth on these objects that give us so much joy that they are so valuable to us.

Yes, a collection is interesting and beautiful and valuable.  And not at all rational.  And just a little obsessive.  But perfectly sane.  If we didn’t covet those things of beauty that give us such joy, why would we want anything?  Is it crazy to spend $1.38 million for a coin?  Is it crazy to spend $20 for a hat that plays “The Stars and Stripes Forever?”  The answer to both is yes.  But neither is the question.  The question is, what is it worth to look upon what you have and say you wanted it, you looked for it, you found it, you got it, and you like having it for the joy that it brings you?  It’s worth more than all the money in the world.  It truly is priceless.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

On the Second Day of Christmas

Michael 1 Comment

Happy Day after Christmas, or if you prefer, St. Stephen’s Day or Boxing Day.  We don’t think much about the day after Christmas.  Usually it’s back to work, start thinking what resolution we’ll be breaking sometime in January, or where did we put those receipts. 

There are some who will continue to give presents throughout the twelve days of Christmas or in some fashion commemorate the march of the Wise Men.  For many though, the days immediately after Christmas are seen as the end of the season and the more common discussions heard around water coolers, proverbial and literal, are of when will you be taking down the decorations, have you gotten all those toys put together, and did you get what you wanted for Christmas.

Neither of us is so dramatic as to have a tree at the curbside on December 26 although both of us know people who will cart their formerly grandly decorated evergreen to the curb as soon as after Christmas Day’s festivities have ended.  No doubt these are the people who had purchased their live trees while so many others were celebrating Black Friday.  He of We typically keeps his outdoor decorations up and lit until the Feast of the Epiphany.  (If you promise not to tell too many others we are willing to reveal that it started out because it’s usually just too darned cold, snowy, and ice-covered to take them down too soon after Christmas so he figured he might as well look like he knows the story.)   

Both of We remember those days when Christmas came partially assembled.  No matter how hard we and parents all over the world tried, not everything could get assembled before the holiday.  The hope was that the children would be so taken by whatever was assembled they wouldn’t notice the brakeless bike behind the tree.  Uh huh.  Distractions might buy you that extra day but eventually the tools and assembly guides would be share space at the lunch table with the leftover hams, turkeys, and roasts and we and parents all over the world re-opened Santa’s Workshop, South Division come December 26.

 A terrific sentiment for a Christmas card would be “Some friends know the gift of friendship is more important that crass commercialism or material presents.  Aren’t you glad I’m one of them?”  But honestly a good, heartfelt, well thought gift means a lot also.  And we got lots of them.  Enough to gloat even!  But we won’t.  We also got a reminder that for all that we mean to each other, friend is always near the top of that list.  About that we will gloat!

So there are ten days to go to complete the proverbial Twelve Days of Christmas.  According to PNC Financial Services, this year’s total will run one willing to fulfill all of the wishes of his (or her) true love $24,263.18.  Perhaps we’ll just stick with our true love’s friendship.  It really is priceless.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Parking Wars

Michael 1 Comment

 

Hello again!  Regular followers following our irregular blog that we routinely post twice a week on Monday and Thursday know that last week we discovered a wealth of topics suggested by the week before Christmas that just can’t wait for a half dozen Christmases to post.  And some of those topics can be discussed in shorter sentences.  So, from then until Christmas you can check us out for our take on the real reality that we keep coming across every day.  You can even go back and read the ones we already posted, or re-read them, or mark them to read later.  And again remember, The Real Reality Show Blog makes a great gift.  It’s absolutely priceless.  We don’t charge a dime!

 

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If there is one thing that we absolutely don’t agree on it is parking.  We can travel thousands of miles together over highways, parkways, back roads, and toll roads for hours at a time and never tire of each other’s company.  But once that trip is over and we have to find a parking space it gets a little stressed.  And during the holiday shopping season when parking lots are filled to overflowing we really get a chance to practice tolerance of one another.  We can agree, disagree, or remain neutral on every other aspect of life from politics to religion to fruitcake but parking is – well, read on.

 

You’d not think the simple act of putting a vehicle away for a while would cause strife but we have very specific ideas of where to park, how to park, what to park next to, and what not to park anywhere near.  He of We is particularly fond of spots in a straight line from the door and with one side protected from other vehicles such as at the end of a row or next to a shopping cart corral.  She of We is happiest when she can pull into a space with another open space directly in front of that one, pull through and avoid backing out when it is time to un-park.  She prefers not to park next to a shopping cart corral.  The end of a row can be tricky.  A row’s end spot offers the one-sided protection he prefers but may be bordered by a raised bed of what’s supposed to be grass or flowers but is usually mud or muck.  This is inevitably on she’s side forcing her to leap muddied waters in a single bound.  He of We is quite happy making a trip down one aisle and up the next in search of a spot that meets his requirements.  She of We spots the most advantageous spot upon entry and heads directly for it.  They are probably all good strategies that might even work together.  But parking time is just not together time for us.  We swoop in getting it done quickly and usually in a spot neither one would select if alone.  Fortunately, we know that as we approach our destination’s door we also approach normalcy and once again we’ll be our usual happy selves. 

 

And it’s not only the act of parking one of our own vehicles that raises ire and eyebrows.  We are quite willing to critique others’ parking practices.  There are as many different methods of parking as there are parkers.  There’s the “The Waiter,” seeking someone loading packages into a parked car, willing to sit in the aisle for as long as it takes for the shopper to load up and move out so he can take that spot.  Even when others are pulling out in two’s and three’s further down the lane, this driver isn’t going to budge.  Closely resembling he who lies in wait is “The Stalker.”  This driver spots someone coming out of the store and follows close behind to claim the spot that will soon be vacated.  Hopefully the shopper isn’t walking all the way home.  Then there is “The Jumping Bean” who pulls into a space, sees someone leaving a spot closer to the store entrance, backs out, drives up, and claims that space.  This can be repeated several times up to and past closing time.  And then there is “Who? Me?”  This opportunistic parker doesn’t wait for a space.  He makes his own spot in the fire lane right next to the store entrance.

 

Who would have thought parking could be such a complex act.  Actually, if you don’t think about it, it isn’t.  But a week before Christmas with spaces at a premium we find ourselves with a lot of time to think while circling the lot looking for any spot available, hoping always for Rockstar Parking.  But that’s a whole different post.

 

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Family Ties

Michael Leave a comment

Today is a special day.  She of We is taking a big step helping her son take control of his own business and continue along his “path of life.”  He of We is watching his daughter graduate from college on her first steps on her “path of life.”  And with just a week before Christmas with cards yet to be done, presents yet to be bought, and cookies yet to be baked, everyone else will have to wait their turn and that’s life.  Families first!

One of the reasons we began this blog was the increasingly ridiculous way reality was depicted on television and the increasingly maddening way normal people were accepting TV reality for real reality.  Where un-retouched perfect people surmounted unscripted unreal obstacles to become unbelievably more perfect every week.  Where families of twenty-eight made your family look like the poster children for dysfunction.  Where nobody seemed to work but everybody seemed to have everything they wanted.  Everybody said they knew those unscripted candid moments were rehearsed and the tear caught in the corner of his/her/their eye was tricky make-up but that’s life.  Fame first!  

But didn’t everybody just envy the heck out of them and want to be just like them?  Well, we didn’t.  And we still don’t. 

We know we aren’t perfect and sometimes our families really can be the poster children for dysfunctional.  And work – sheesh!  But we also know that bad things are always going to be there and we don’t have a script to see how it works out so we better be strong enough to deal with it – that’s life.  We also know that the good stuff really can be so good that it brings tears to our eyes and we better be strong enough to deal with it – that’s life!  So this year, during the most impossible week to stay organized, while work piles up at work, and there’s no way we’ll ever get everything done at home, we’re stopping our worlds for just a bit to celebrate our reality.

Since we aren’t on television we better tell what our reality is like.  There’s laundry to be done and bathrooms to be cleaned.  We go to work at least 5 days a week and we have fun when we can fit it in.  The bills come faster than the money. We get headaches.  There’s never enough time but we always make time.  And today is special day.  Just like tomorrow’s today.  And the today after that.  And that one, too.

What a great Christmas gift.  Anybody know where we can get some wrap to fit that?

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?