I’m wondering if we skipped it entirely and went straight to summer.
That’s ridiculous! And to think that exactly a month ago, we were encased in ice.
Category: Uncategorized
A Trip Down a Different Memory Lane
I talked to my mom this morning, and the subject of college diplomas came up. I “lost” mine for a long time, and only found it again while packing for this last move. I pulled it off the shelf and opened the folder, and some old Christmas cards, my “fancy” birth certificate, and my 8th grade report card were tucked inside.
I was a pretty solid B student in middle school. I had horrible study skills, and I never did a single bit of homework. If I had, I’m sure I would’ve gotten As.
With the single exception of the final History exam, which was on WWII, I don’t recall ever studying for a test. During the second half of 8th grade, we lived in town, so I walked to school instead of riding the bus. I usually got there early, because it was my job to go over to the church and do the hymn board for each day’s masses. I must have gotten to school extra early on the day of the history final, because I recall having a lot of extra time left over, and using it to study for the test. I remember knowing, when I finished the exam, that I had gotten every answer correct.
On the last day of school, we all signed each other’s report cards. I have no idea who Rosy was, but I remember everyone else.
Is That a Meme I Spy?
I’m not so much with the meme thing. Maybe it’s my distrust of anything that looks like it could have graced the Cool Kids’ Table. But, the meme wherein you ask the Google Oracle to summon forth pages containing “[your name] needs” was actually kind of entertaining. I cheated a bit. I think you’re supposed to just use the first ten, but I am contrary, so I picked the ones that amused me. Also, math is not my strong suit.
Shelly needs a comfortable lap.
Shelly needs a favor.
Shelly needs some help.
Shelly needs a home with no other cats.
Shelly needs some assistance.
Shelly needs all your thoughts and prayers.
Shelly needs a room.
Shelly needs a fucking life.
Shelly needs motivation!!!
Shelly needs Lots of Space.
Shelly needs no more crises.
Shelly needs Bernie and vice versa, to a point.
Shelly needs her spirits lifted.
Shelly needs help to complete the assignment.
Shelly needs 3 stars to improve.
Shelly needs some comfortable walking shoes.
Shelly needs further convincing.
Shelly needs a new distribution facility.
Shelly needs to follow up with the conditional use permit.
Shelly needs to hear this.
Shelly needs to feel like she’s home!
Shelly needs to understand that I know.
Pissed-off Shelly needs to come out and play more often.
Perhaps Shelly needs to tell us more.
The last thing Shelly needs is for Bernie’s power to fizzle.
The last thing Shelly needs is for his “cooler” to suddenly get “hot.”
M’kaythen!
Strange Little World
Yesterday, I forgot my billfold at home and had to come back and get it. As I was parking, I noticed a turquoise and chrome Dodge Ram truck in the spot in front of mine. When I got back to my car, I gave the truck a closer look. You see, my ex-landlady has a truck exactly like it, and though I wasn’t expecting it to be her truck (that’d be silly, right?), it piqued my curiosity. I’ll be damned, though! It was her truck. It used to have a US flag in the back window, but that’s been replaced by a Century 21 ad displaying her photo, name, and phone numbers.
I don’t know if she’s living here (that would be odd, for a real estate agent), is seeing someone who lives here, or if her son lives here. The truck was still here this morning when I walked the dog. It’s in a different spot, though, so it’s been moved. Weird, huh?
I’m not sure how I feel about her living here, assuming she does. We always got along well, until she and her husband split up. Then, she tried to pressure me into paying my rent to her, even though he owned the property. I didn’t appreciate being forced into the middle of their bullshit, so I feel a little bit resentful toward her.
Collecting People
My mom collects interesting and odd people. Years ago, Marilyn and Larry, an older, mentally disabled couple, started periodically dropping by her house to ask for a dollar or two for cigarette money. Or, as Marilyn says, “cigarex.” My mom usually gave them a little money, and would offer them coffee, make them an egg and toast, and let them use her telephone. This went on for years, with Marilyn and Larry showing up on the doorstep every month or so. Then, a few years ago, they stopped coming by altogether.
Well, I just got off the phone with my brother. While I was talking to him, he said someone was pounding on the door. As he put down the phone to answer it, I said, “Ha! I bet it’s Marilyn and Larry!” And it was! I gather, from the bit of the conversation I was able to overhear, that they’d moved out of the neighborhood, but are back now.
I’m not sure what’s up with Larry, besides the fact that he’s a little slow–mentally and physically. Marilyn once told my mom that she used to be smart, but that when she was a child she nearly drowned, and she’s not been right ever since. That always struck me as especially sad, to be aware that your mind was once able to do things that it can’t do now.
Marginalia
Mrs. Taylor, one of my high school English teachers, insisted that a book had not been read unless it contained marginalia. Her point was that books are tools, not sacred things, and that it’s important to use them to their fullest potential. That requires making margin notes and underlining or highlighting passages.
I guess I tend to agree with Mrs. Taylor. The Morford and Lenardon text was a staple of the classics department. Even if it was not required for a class, chances were, you’d end up needing to refer to it at some point. Likewise, the Lattimore translations of the Iliad and the Odyssey. All three books are crammed with notes I took for various classes.
I think the interesting thing about marginalia is not so much the intrinsic information it contains, but the window it opens onto the moment in time when the notes were made.
Title of the Day
WHO guidelines on tissue infectivity distribution in transmissible spongiform encephalopathies.
That is all. As you were, comrades.
It Is Done
Taxes are filed. That is all.
As you were, comrades.
Too Much is Never Enough
Because 70-odd channels weren’t enough, I upgraded to the uber cable plan. I really wanted BBC America and National Geographic, dammit. For $8 more per month, I get approximately a bazillion channels, including Lime, LOGO, DIY, and, of all things, Horse Racing.
So, of course, with all those shiny new channels, last night I watched boring old network television: Armed and Famous. Oh yeah, bay-BEE. It was filmed in Muncie, so I kind of have to watch it. Plus, it’s surprisingly (to me, at least) amusing. Damned funny, in fact. The blonde wrestler annoys the hell out of me (lady, it’s not all about you!), but I’m finding that LaToya Jackson is just about as cute as a speckled pup. Really. She’s an adorable freak.
Pablum
I found these in a 1951 copy of Better Homes and Gardens Baby Book: a child care and training guide. I’m always on the look-out for old books that I can cannibalize for collage, and especially for those that have ephemera in them. I’ve found money, pressed leaves and flowers, name tags, post cards, letters and notes, and photos.
I think this batch of papers is interesting because of the dietary advice included. If you look at the dates, Dr. Wallace prescribed “pablum mixed cereal” diluted with formula for David when he was only a little over a month old. That’s awfully young to be starting a baby on cereal. Apparently it was common advice given at the time, but not anymore.
(I’ve pixelated the last name, because David and Billy are probably still alive. It looks like their father died in 1955, and their mother remarried in 1959. A third son, Ted, was born in 1961. As always, click on the images to view larger copies.)
red paper boat 