Thursday, October 30, 2008

A long, long time ago when it seemed everybody "Liked Ike", I'd struggle to comprehend our nation's electorate process. Why, I asked my father, didn't the winner get to be President ... and the loser, Vice-President?

'Made sense to a 6-year-old ... and to be perfectly honest, I still don't sense a great degree of difficulty in that childish notion.
Bi-partisanship, indeed!

These days our granddaughters are keenly aware and curious. I thank God for their parents' unbiased counsel. Even so, I was astonished when my son privately confessed, "If Obama wins the White House, I hope that after 4 years I can honestly say, 'My gosh, this is the best President we have ever had!'" (Sheer geographical distances prevented my checking his forehead for a raging fever.)

While it's obvious I disagree, I must keeping reminding myself, we're One Nation, Under God, indivisible .........

Sunday, October 26, 2008

...as we Forgive Those who Trespass Against us.

Having grown up in a fundamentally religious household (think, generations of clergy), I'm now inclined to refer to myself as a "recovering Lutheran." In fact, I credit an angel named Leddy Hammock and Unity for saving my sanity. But more about that later. Perhaps.

Still, I'm comforted each morning by the words of The Lord's Prayer. And therein lies my dilemma: How can I possibly consider myself a Christian and not espouse that business of forgiveness?

Yes, this post is assuredly self-serving.... you may choose to skip it. I'm thinking that finally spitting it out on paper will, perhaps, quiet the Resentment I've allowed to fester too long.

A few background notes:

Given: I've no argument with posted speed limits. OK, I'm a "speed chicken" ... and yes, it's true that I was teased unmercifully during my Corvette years for failure to "let her out."

Given: In the Fall of 1998 I was involved in an auto accident on I-75 that by all rights should have killed or seriously maimed me.

Given: My aged Subaru had become unreliable, and given my finances (or lack thereof), I rented a sub-compact (P.O.S.) for a weekend jaunt to visit my mother, some 100 miles to the south.

Your honor, sir .......

Twilight, Interstate 75, Sarasota County, Florida. Spitting distance from the site of an earlier trauma. I discovered a while back that the entire P.O.S. would vibrate ridulously when its speedometer hit 65 mph.

From a distance, I sighted blue flashing lights and automatically glanced at my speedometer. Nope, I'm good. Then sighting an overpass, I noted silhouettes and presumed an accident had occurred. A few seconds later, headlights of a fast-approaching vehicle shone in my rear-view mirror. As that driver came around and we passed side-by-side beneath the overpass, I realized the activity above was F.H.P. laser.

I have to admit to chuckling, calling the other driver "Bear Bait." Color me astonished when a minute later, my car was pulled over. As "Trooper S" approached my window, I guessed a broken tail light or something akin. No, he claimed I'd been clocked at 87 mph. Say whaaaat??? When I tried to explain about the other driver, that he must have been mistaken, I was told in no uncertain term to "Shut up." I shut up. (Note to self: Who pooped in his Wheaties this morning?) Furthermore, he threatened me with the loss of my license and/or jail time if I were to contest the ticket in a court of law.
Hell-o??!

A while later, my mother attempted to comfort me, advising me to pay the ticket, ask God to forgive them and forget it. I couldn't. I can't.

Yes, I appeared in court, as did "Trooper S" ... who wouldn't stop smirking. The make-believe trial was over in minutes. Presumed to be a liar, I deigned to pay the fine.

Remember the old saw "Police are our Friends"?
Some days ... the dragon wins.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Good Intentions, Unexpected Blessings

Had I been blogging faithfully, an earlier post would have fairly vibrated: I'm so excited ... really excited ... EX-CITED!!!

See, my BFF "D" and her Significant Other were making their way west for a long-anticipated visit. No ordinary excursion, theirs was an arduous, 2,300-mile road trip ... complicated by Very Real health challenges that limited their driving time to 3 hours a day! Impossible, some surmised.

Now, D is one of those exquisite individuals whose word you can take to the bank. Despite years spent wrestling physical and professional demons, she never lost sight of her promise to visit Arizona. (Color me, humbled.)

So, each day following "lift off" I'd hover at the computer, either aghast or tickled silly by details of their Amazing Race.

(Did I mention, D is the funniest person I've ever known? Not "on purpose" funny - it just flows naturally, prompting the rest of us to grab the Depends.

Nearing two weeks into the journey, both contracted nasty head colds, but continued, unsuspecting up and into Flagstaff ... whose thin mountain air would wreak havoc.

Last Saturday I awoke, feeling as tho' I'd won the Lottery: Bring out the fatted calf and fire up the vaporizer! Come mid-afternoon their car crossed the end zone!

Now, by her own admission, D is not the same blithe spirit who'd partner in mischief across Florida, in what came to be known as our Annual. C's mobility is similarly limited. But overcome by emotion, I'd overlooked those facts. Homage to the Superstitions, to Sedona was not in the cards. Our focus was simply to help heal. Fearing their disappointment, my heart hurt.

But guess what? There was more enjoyment to be had just sitting, sipping and smoking ... coupled with several riotous trips to SuperTarget, where I'd trail behind their twin scooters like some benevolent chaperon.

D's insights and witty observations were so very comforting. What's weird about our friendship is, we have absolutely nothing in common! Still, she's heard my deepest fears and shame-iest secrets. Not one to always agree for the sake of unity, D makes me feel I'm an OK sort of gal after all. So I relaxed -- in a fashion I'd not allowed myself to feel in years ..... no cosmetics required! An unexpected bonus was getting to know the fella who's captivated her heart. Belying his tough-guy image, C is a gifted artist with a knack for discovering extraordinary in the ordinary. (Plus, he cooks!!!)

Sure, I could feed in that cocoon of endorphins 'til I burst. But of course, all fairy tales must come to an end. Two days ago, with tears in our eyes, we waved Arrivederci. (Note: That's an on-purpose word I love. Long ago in another time and place, a man near to my heart gently whispered in broken English, "is not so final as your Americans goodbye. Rather, it means, until we meet again." Is that cool, or whaaaat?!)

If anyone has a better, more meaningful phrase for "Thank you" I'd welcome learning that, too.

P.S.
An occasional Lottery player (or, sucker), I'm now determined to invest a dollar each week, earmarked to renew our Annual. Life's too darn short to postpone the Important Stuff!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Super Glue is NOT my friend.

Despite chaos surrounding my office these last couple weeks, I awoke yesterday feeling refreshed and assured. No doubt, the Very Important Meeting would flow smoothly.

Did I just say "assured"? That would be my first mistake.

My role is, at best, that of a minor league player. However, I'm always anxious to make a good impression on our company VIP's. These men and women are honestly amazing .... in fact, I would probably pay for the opportunity to apprentice under Madam President. (shhh!) Anyhow, I digress.

Sensing my urgency, the Universe decided to remind me that "haste makes waste": I began the workday by slamming a desk drawer on my middle finger, effectively splitting the acrylic nail down through the ikky, pink center. #*!%*!!!

Instead of doing the sensible thing and throwing a band-aid on the offending digit, I paged Engineering to puleeeze rush me some Super Glue. (Note: It's been 30+ years since I last attempted to force open a tube ... with my teeth. Really.)

Engineering delivered not one, but two tubes, explaining "they're little; knock yourself out." Carefully, deliberately, I lifted the little red cap, punctured the nozzle, then began to squeeze. Nothing. (Hmm, must be old, used glue.) Push the pin a little deeper and squeeze. Still nothing. (Flippin, defective glue!). On to the second tube and repeat.

About this time a co-worker kindly suggested that I actually remove the foil membrane protecting the contents. Anxiously wielding a safety-pin, I missed the rest of his sentence: "but be very careful."

You guessed it. Super Glue splashed happily, mightily across both hands and the desk blotter. Grab the Kleenex, this is a 911! (Soooo wrong.) Did you know water is actually an accelerant? Me neither.

The Great Meeting was anticlimactic. My hubby (the hobbyist) recommended a lanolin-base lotion, so I wasn't reduced to sitting on my hands. My blotter (presently upside-down) doesn't look all that awful either. 'Just hope I'll not be prohibited from using scissors or packing tape anytime soon.