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You decide...

Laughter, Tears and the Crippled Old Man

I'm going through my mother's old photographs.  And, her mother's.  And, her grandmother's.

The box is filled with photos of all kinds, shapes, sizes, colors, sepia, black and white, poloroids, snapshots, and studio shots.  The faces smile back at me as I study their eyes and noses for familial similarities.  Twenty-five, fifty, a hundred years separate me from the picture takers and their subjects.  

The radiant child about my son's age frolicking in the Atlantic waves is my Baby Boomer sister.  The young marrieds, fresh with promise and standing inside their corner grocery are my deceased grandparents.  My birth announcement in the paper, yellowed and torn with age.  Christmas cards from people I do not know, and photographs of people we no longer contact.  The testament to a family's history basically reduced to archeological supposition by the youngest in the family who was born long after the clans disbanded.

On a lighter note, I found one that gave me a laugh sending tears rolling down my face.  If my sister had been there, we would have been in silent hysterics for a full half-hour I guarantee it.  As it was, I had a pretty good run myself.  I found this photo of a man I do not know, older than my grandparents and on crutches.  Someone had given him a cake to hold, not just a little cake, but  a large, round two-layer frosted cake on a--get this--glass cake server, the kind with a thick pedestal.  

"Here's your cake, crippled old man!"

How he kept from tipping over is beyond me.  But, maybe that was the last picture before they took him to the hospital.  

Okay, maybe you had to be there with me in the moment.  I will scan the image and post it here, then you can see and judge for yourself.  It's weird, too, because there were other people around--I've seen the other photos.  So,  how did someone design that particular one?!  Give the little old man on crutches a thing half his weight to hold while he's trying in vain just to stand up?!?  

My family went insane sixty years ago and we've never since been normal.

Method to Madness

Why are some actors so horrendously messed up and some of them incredibly proficient in life?

Here's my best guess.  It's like a bell curve and we, the audience, are the majority.  At one small end are the messed up actors, and the other end are the competent and learned performers.  You have your druggies plus your people playing at very high levels and this one thing unites them: they can show us publicly what we do privately.  

I didn't invent that.  Rob Reece (my method acting teacher in SF, now in Bev Hills) once said, "An actor is one willing to do in public what everyone does in private."  He probably got it from Stanislavsky.  

It takes a special person to portray intimate feelings for an audience.  One exercise Rob subjected me to--and there were palm sweating, heart racing others to be sure--was to have me dialogue out of my butt.  Here I am, bent over, using my hands to move my "cheeks" and address the class.  Great.  Just what every introverted writer dreams about.  But, that's just what I needed to get me out of my shell.  Nowadays, there aren't many public arenas that give me the willies.  Thanks, Rob.

So, people not only willing to show us humanity at its most raw and naked, but wanting and desiring to do it are a special and different breed indeed.  Some of them are driven to distraction (drugs, alcohol, sex), and some of them are driven to the bookcase.  The rest of us watch. 

 

Dems vs GOP

So, we're in the thick of political madness and it's only going to get worse.  The "he said/she said" mayhem will not cease until early November, unless we have another 2000 where the courts decide our President-elect.  Please, no!  

Many Christians say that Jesus would definitely be a...Republican...or a Democrat.  As if God cared about a particular party over another.  I don't think God says, the Jews are my chosen people and this donkey or elephant is my chosen political organization.  God is above politics.  Duh.  I mean, isn't the enemy running our political arena anyway?

Let's face it, there is the absence of God in both parties.  Those who support a woman's "choice" are intentionally ignoring God's sixth Commandment.  Those who do not protect the incredible resources of our planet are not being good stewards of the earth God gave us.

Now, there are some differences in philosophies that ultimately reach the same godly goal.  For instance, liberals want a big government to take care of the less fortunate, while conservatives desire more government cooperation with church and non-profit groups, and more incentives for people to work themselves out of poverty.  It's the old "give a man a fish" vs. "teach a man to fish" debate.  Same goal of helping the impoverished, just a different mechanism to make it a reality. 

I'm trying to keep in mind that I'm a Christian first, before I'm a politcal party member, and I need to look at the issues from God's view.  It's difficult because I'm such a strong conservative Republican.  But, I think we would all benefit if we asked, "What's the Christian stance?" not,  "What does my party believe?"

Some of the fervor regarding party affiliation can be likened to rooting for your favorite team.  We don the colors and symbols of our alma mater and cheer our team in the big homecoming game.  We forget to ask what's best for the country, and instead of asking questions, we simply desire to win.  The goal becomes victory over substance.  "We won, we won!"  But, have we? 

I hope that other Christians will join me in taking the time to reflect this political year on what's best for God's interests.  And, perhaps work to change that in their party, whether Dem or GOP, or Green Party, that does not jive with Jesus' teachings.    

Composition

Nothing comes from me.  Not my opinion, not my voice, not my writing.  It's all a composition of everything I've read, heard, taken in, been mentored about, learned firsthand, or taught.  I don't come to conclusions about our universe by acting Miss Know-It-All, all preachy and riding high on my soapbox (though I have been known to love a soapbox).  I come to my conclusions by experience.  Life experience of using the world as my classroom.  Whether I get the info from a book, class, pastor, therapist or friend, it's gathered knowledge.  Like a woman gathering food in the wild for her tribe, I'm collecting tidbits of wisdom in my basket.  Luckily, my basket is still mostly empty.  

Blogsense

I've been asked about my blog, why I don't call Hubby and kids by their first names, offer insights into my personal drama, or talk about the zit on my chin (it's there!).  Why I don't open up and reveal my daily life as a wife and mother.  

Well, I could, of course.  I'm not hiding anything, and I certainly don't care about image (though I joke about it enough you just might wonder).  There are blogs for every conceivable idea, and they take many shapes and forms.  Read enough of them and you'll see various personalities exposed and many different reasons for blogging.  I love the myriad of differing blogs in the universe, quite like the diversity of our world.

There are blogs that talk about daily family life, but this is not one of them.

This blog is my philosophy as it's emerging.  It's revolves around my musings and my observations as a person who has lived, really lived, and learned quite a bit from that living, and learned more (and continue to learn) from people much smarter than I.  And, how to put all that together, life experience, God, book smarts, and mentors' teachings, and use the composition of those as a prism to see the world, to change thoughts to change the world.   

      

Driving Me Insane

You can spot them from a quarter mile away.  They move at a snails pace, unaware of other cars around them, not noticing that they've slipped into another lane, not caring if the light's turned green, and never, ever under any circumstance using turn signals.

Who are they?

Older drivers?  Nah, Hubby's Granny got around fine until she lost her license at age 97.  She was slow, but she was cautious and knew how to use that d&%* turn signal.

Foreign drivers?  Nah, you should see my next door neighbor from India.  She makes my lead foot look light as a feather.  I respect drivers who know how to leave dust.

These people are the cell phone talkers.  

Not just cell phone users, these are "talkers."  They have one hand permanently attached to their ear while their mouths move at lightening speed.  I passed a woman going 35 mph on Hwy 64 the other day and her mouth practically got her a speeding ticket.

There are two kinds of people who use cell phones in their car, in a store, and in a restaurant.  Those who have informational conversations, and those who just talk.

I wonder who they're talking to?  I wonder if the other person is listening?  Maybe they're doing a crossword, or their taxes, or watching TV.

I used to do that with my mother.  I'd play computer Scrabble or watch TV with closed captioning and half listen.  I had to half listen because sometimes she'd check to make sure I was listening.

Mom, "blah, blah, met her for lunch."

Me, "that's nice, Ma."

Mom, "blah, blah, played tennis."

Me, "that's nice, Ma."

Mom, "blah, blah, she died."

Me, "that's nice, Ma."  

Ooops.  I didn't let that happen again.

My mother was a talker.  I could never get a word in edgewise.  I don't think she had a two-way conversation in her life.  Just, blah, blah, blah.  If she wasn't on the phone (just landlines back then), she was out in the driveway, or a parking lot, or wherever she could nab someone...and make me wait while she told the same sh&% over and over again.

I think I stopped talking about the age of 7.  I was the youngest, and there was no use trying to compete with very limited air space.  I found books and I found my escape.

Maybe I equate all cell phone "talkers" with my mom and so I'm projecting my disdain of my mother's quirk onto them.  Who knows?  Who cares?  They slow down traffic and make me do the thinking for them by playing defense.  They pollute my lovely and quiet shopping excursions sans kids with endless "blah, blah, blah" in the aisles.  And, to top it off, they invade my dining experience.  If I'm gonna shell out for a place that offers me a menu without pictures and has a wine list longer than four whites, five reds, and a blush, then the menu better say, "Cell phone use prohibited in the dining room.  Thank you."  No, thank YOU!

I'd love to put that sticker on my car that says, "Hang up and drive."  But, I think you can't ever use a cell phone in your car with that on the back.  It would SEEM hypocritical.  It's not at all, of course, because they really are different animals, these cell phone talkers and cell phone users.  So, to prevent "seeming" hypocritical (because image is everything--ha), then I will forgo the sticker and stick to the muttering.