Wednesday, July 23, 2014

When Suddenly Nothing Happened..

I was in the drama club in high school.  We performed a Monty Python skit one year.  I don't remember the whole skit.  I just remember this one line that ends in "when suddenly, nothing happened!".  This could be my tag line.

It's not really the fact that nothing happens as much as it is my expectation, each and every time I step out the door, that something will happen, and then nothing does.

See that guy over there?  No, not that one, the other one.  See him?  Don't you think he's acting a little odd?  No?  Well, I do, so I will memorize his clothing in case I'm asked later.  And what about that car there, the gray one.  Didn't that car just go by in the opposite direction 5 minutes ago?  Yes, I remember the license plate.  Maybe the driver lives in this neighborhood or just maybe the driver is casing the neighborhood.  Hmmm.  The lawn hasn't been cut here in awhile.  Usually the elderly gentleman who lives here is meticulous about lawn care.  Do you suppose he's alright?  Come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks....do you smell something?

Oh. My. God.  Up in the sky!  What is that?  Is that...is that a space ship?  It doesn't seem to be moving.  It's  like it's just hovering there,  and plumes of smoke are coming out of the bottom.  They seem to be shimmering, as though the spaceship is emitting some odd gas. I've never seen anything like it in my life.

Oh....I guess it is just a plane....

Everywhere I go, everything I do, I'm seeking out the nearest exit and watching for anything suspicious.  You're welcome.

Apparently, I'm not the only caretaker of the world out there. Take a look at this photo of God peering  from the clouds, snapped by an amateur photographer walking the beach.

I'm Watching You!

Chicken out

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

No, I'm Good. You Go Ahead Though

I know a guy who is afraid of heights.  He's going to rappel down a 22 story building in a couple of weeks.  It's for a good cause.  I am also afraid of heights.  I'm  giving the other guy some money for the good cause.  I will not be rappelling from anywhere higher than my bed.  Why would I do that?

People say it's good to face your fears.  I say, "what's the point?"

If I have a fear and facing it results only in bragging rights, then I'm good.  I'll stay humble and fearful.  If I have a fear that, when faced, stands to improve my  life, then I'm all for it.

Littleb is afraid of the water.  He does not like water on his face,  never has.  This is a fear that his Dad and I will help him  overcome because knowing how to swim doesn't suck.  Last night, he jumped through the sprinkler several times and I almost cried.  It is not something he's ever been willing to do.  Real progress has been made this summer.

I am afraid  of  arachnids, heights and haggling.  I see no need to pet a tarantula or jump out of a plane.   Should I ever be in a position where I have no choice but to jump out of a plane into a rain forest full of bird tarantulas, then I guess I'll deal  with my fears  then.  It's sort of how Teenager Who Lives in the Basement (TWLITB) deals with his chores.  He procrastinates in hopes that they will cease to exist.  Sometimes it works.  I will exhaust all other options before exiting the plane.

The haggling, though, I'm not sure about that one.  Would a good haggle improve my  life?   It occurred to me this morning that I've never been through the car purchasing  process even though I've owned several cars over the years.  The first three were handled by my Dad.  He bought one when I got my license, helped me get another when that one stopped working, and then finally  did the haggling for me when I bought my first brand new vehicle.  He tried to teach me, he really did, but when he said,  "tell him you want _____ or you're leaving",  I handed the phone to the sales man and said, "Hey, my Dad wants to talk to you."

When that car wore out, I got married and my new husband purchased my next car.

I'm up in the air about the haggling.  There are other opportunities to purchase cars these days that circumvent the whole negotiation process so, really, it's not something I need to do.  Who decided, by the way, that we would all haggle over the price of a car?  Who made that rule?

What fear should you face to improve the quality of your life?

Chicken out

Monday, July 21, 2014

Sweet Chicken


I know it's coming because  I can hear him outside the door and, sure enough, Ray's head appears in my door frame, followed by his body. He says, as he does every day, several times, "Oh Chicken, Sweet Chicken, how we all love Chicken.   And how's Chicken today?"

"Mornin' Ray.  Doin' well.   How about you?"

"Can't complain.   Got up on the right side of the grass"

"Just another day in Paradise, huh Ray?"

"Yup, that's right Chicken.  See ya later."

It's a good day when I know it's coming.  Quite often,  I don't.  Quite often, I'm standing at the copier or at the front desk, lost in thought, minding my own business when, suddenly...

"Chicken Sweet Chicken, we all love Chicken"

I jump a half-mile, turn a somersault and come back down, landing where I began.  I am growing tired of this conversational thread and I am especially growing tired of jumping out of my skin several times a day.

I suspect Ray knows this,  but the amount of pleasure he gets from sneaking up on me outweighs any guilt he feels over repeatedly initiating my fight or flight response on an otherwise boring work day.

I try to give old Ray the benefit of the doubt.  He's old and hard of hearing, I tell myself.  He doesn't realize how loud he is.

Some other things Ray doesn't realize is how many times a day his eyes wander down to my chest or how often he demeans women  or how many times a day he complains about his crazy wife.

But still,  we work together, so common ground must be sought.

"How're the grand kids, Ray?..."

And  he's off.  He'd give the shirt off his back for those kids.  His eyes shine and his persona changes from grouchy old man to proud Pépé.  

It's just another day in Paradise.

Chicken out