It’s hard to believe another year is coming to a close. Everybody has been in the holiday spirit and the LB Church is no exception. Although small in size, it’s big in heart. I haven’t been a member very long, but others are always willing to give and share with people less fortunate and with each other.
Many opportunities to give and share our fortune have become a tradition here at LBC. Last month the congregation once again participated in Operation Christmas Child involving the gift-filled shoe boxes. This month members selected a dove from the “Dove Tree” with names of mothers and their children who reside at New Life Beginnings, a home for pregnant women and their children. NLB is also one of the ministries of this congregation.
Every year an anonymous Santa gives of his means to a few members who might need a little assistance. Bud, a long-time member and former elder, distributes these gifts, and I was blessed to be one of the recipients of his generosity this year. Don’t know if I’ll ever know his identity, but “Thank you, Santa. It was very kind, very thoughtful, and very much appreciated. I hope to be able to thank you in person some day.”
Another tradition here is A Gift for Jesus where young and old bring their talented offerings to Jesus in various forms, whether it be in song, music, testimonials, etc. I saw the program last year and there were many more participants this year. We have a lot of talent in this small church. They were all good; but a few tugged a little more at my heart, namely Stephanie, Christina, and Kamille. The Praise Band and Joanna go without saying (they‘ll get their own story some day).
I especially waited with much anticipation to hear my friend, Pam, sing. She has performed in several different places, but I was never fortunate to be in the audience. Already knew Pam sang well (usually sit by her every week) but never had an opportunity to hear a solo performance. It was touching. It was moving. And, oh yeah, the goosebumps and chills surfaced (my gauge for an A++ approval rating). Hopefully Pam will come to her senses and take me up on my offer to be her manager and go on the road.
Maybe next year I’ll participate. I took organ lessons as a kid and played periodically over the years. When my parents sold their house in Oceanside, they sold the organ. It was sad to see it go but the organ was just too heavy to move and can easily be replaced with a keyboard. This year I finally purchased that keyboard and it’s quite a transition from the two-keyboard concept.
Always thought it would be fun to give performances or play in a band but would probably have the worst case of stage fright--felt uncomfortable just playing in front of my family. Hopefully I’m not like many of those American Idol wannabes who are so delusional to actually believe they have talent. My parents haven’t heard me play since I bought my keyboard, but my dad thought I was good on the organ. If you asked my mom, she would say I played better than she did… Uh... better think twice about next year.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
A LIFE OF PAIN
I can’t imagine what it would be like to live the majority of your life in a great deal of pain. They claim giving birth is the worst pain and though I’ve experienced that, getting your tonsils removed at age 32 wins hands down. But those experiences only last for a brief period of time.
My grandmother, Annie, became bedridden a few years after Dad was born. Annie had tuberculosis of the bone and couldn’t sit up let alone move on her own. Annie’s mother took care of the family with the help of her oldest daughter, Olive. Dad says his mom was always pleasant and never complained. My grandmother died a year after my parents got married. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to meet her, but what a great role model!
In the 10th grade my brother, Don, was diagnosed with slipped capital femoral epiphysis, or in other words, a separation of the ball of the hip joint from the thigh bone (femur) at the upper growing end (growth plate) of the bone. (Did that make it any clearer?) An analogy to describe this condition would be like a scoop of ice cream slipping off the top of a cone. Don had surgery to stabilize the bone with a metal bracket and pins to prevent further slippage or displacement of the ball of the hip joint.
I remember this gaunt lad on crutches who persevered through the pain. Although the surgery cut short his track career in high school, a few years later Don was able to teach tennis for the city and at tennis clubs. Looking back at that time I would describe my brother as somewhat of a geek, but in later years Don reminded us of Tom Selleck and was once mistaken for Mel Gibson (before I knew who MG was) so that tells you something. The ugly duckling turned into a swan (a cob, not a pen).
In the late 1980s Don’s hip started to slowly deteriorate and became arthritic. Toward the last few years, his limping reminded me of Frankenstein’s assistant, Igor. It was very sad to observe the agony of each step. After many years of procrastination, Don received a hip replacement in the fall of 2003. There was pain, a lot of therapy and the crutches made the scene once again, but the results were remarkable. Don could move his leg freely with no discomfort. No pain. You could see the relief in his eyes as well as the tears of happiness and joy in his upright walking. Yes, my brother has my admiration.
My Aunt Lois was born in 1919 and recently celebrated her 87th birthday. She has had arthritic pain since age 7. Over the years Lois has endured two knee replacements and two hip replacements. In 2004, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. In 2005, she was diagnosed with lung cancer and the doctors hoped Lois would live long enough to see the birth of her first grandchild. Heather was born in November of last year. Recently, my aunt was diagnosed with bone cancer and has been under hospice care. Last week we learned that the doctors have given Lois two weeks to two months to live. Although not wanting to leave her son and family, I know it will come as a blessing. I’ve talked to my aunt about dying, and she is ready. Lois has endured tremendous pain as well as other health issues and has the proverbial pharmaceutical medicine cabinet to prove it. Saturday my parents and I will make another trip down to San Diego County to visit Lois for what might be the final time.
Those who live with chronic pain have my respect and admiration. If given a similar situation, it’s very doubtful I could do it with such grace, class, or perseverance.
My grandmother, Annie, became bedridden a few years after Dad was born. Annie had tuberculosis of the bone and couldn’t sit up let alone move on her own. Annie’s mother took care of the family with the help of her oldest daughter, Olive. Dad says his mom was always pleasant and never complained. My grandmother died a year after my parents got married. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to meet her, but what a great role model!
In the 10th grade my brother, Don, was diagnosed with slipped capital femoral epiphysis, or in other words, a separation of the ball of the hip joint from the thigh bone (femur) at the upper growing end (growth plate) of the bone. (Did that make it any clearer?) An analogy to describe this condition would be like a scoop of ice cream slipping off the top of a cone. Don had surgery to stabilize the bone with a metal bracket and pins to prevent further slippage or displacement of the ball of the hip joint.
I remember this gaunt lad on crutches who persevered through the pain. Although the surgery cut short his track career in high school, a few years later Don was able to teach tennis for the city and at tennis clubs. Looking back at that time I would describe my brother as somewhat of a geek, but in later years Don reminded us of Tom Selleck and was once mistaken for Mel Gibson (before I knew who MG was) so that tells you something. The ugly duckling turned into a swan (a cob, not a pen).
In the late 1980s Don’s hip started to slowly deteriorate and became arthritic. Toward the last few years, his limping reminded me of Frankenstein’s assistant, Igor. It was very sad to observe the agony of each step. After many years of procrastination, Don received a hip replacement in the fall of 2003. There was pain, a lot of therapy and the crutches made the scene once again, but the results were remarkable. Don could move his leg freely with no discomfort. No pain. You could see the relief in his eyes as well as the tears of happiness and joy in his upright walking. Yes, my brother has my admiration.
My Aunt Lois was born in 1919 and recently celebrated her 87th birthday. She has had arthritic pain since age 7. Over the years Lois has endured two knee replacements and two hip replacements. In 2004, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. In 2005, she was diagnosed with lung cancer and the doctors hoped Lois would live long enough to see the birth of her first grandchild. Heather was born in November of last year. Recently, my aunt was diagnosed with bone cancer and has been under hospice care. Last week we learned that the doctors have given Lois two weeks to two months to live. Although not wanting to leave her son and family, I know it will come as a blessing. I’ve talked to my aunt about dying, and she is ready. Lois has endured tremendous pain as well as other health issues and has the proverbial pharmaceutical medicine cabinet to prove it. Saturday my parents and I will make another trip down to San Diego County to visit Lois for what might be the final time.
Those who live with chronic pain have my respect and admiration. If given a similar situation, it’s very doubtful I could do it with such grace, class, or perseverance.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
LIFE LESSONS FROM RUDOLPH
Sam the Snowman; Hermie, the future dentist who doesn’t like to make toys; Fireball; Clarice; Yukon Cornelius and his “fog as thick as peanut butter;” Donner and Mrs. Donner; the abominable snow monster; Charlie in the box and the boat that can’t stay afloat on the Island of Misfit Toys; King Moonrazor; Burl Ives singing “Silver and Gold” and “Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas”; and, of course, Rudolph, Santa and Mrs. Claus.
Don’t understand why the networks televise holiday specials so far in advance, but I never can seem to pass up the opportunity to see this one-hour special every December (or maybe I’m just a sucker for a good love story even if it’s between two deer). No youngsters were around; just me all alone on a Friday night (two weeks ago) watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Whoa! Sounds like another story for my blog, but let’s not go there, at least not today.
This writing was going to focus on how we can be any age and enjoy these type of programs and mention some things about my son, Jonathan, but while watching the show, I realized there were many life lessons from this popular children’s Christmas classic.
DON’T MAKE FUN OF THOSE WHO ARE DIFFERENT
Rudolph’s peers ridiculed him for his shiny red nose and was ostracized by not being allowed to play in any more reindeer games.
DON’T CAST JUDGMENT ON THOSE WHO ARE DIFFERENT
Judging Rudolph’s character strictly by his oddity, Clarice’s father demanded that she stay away from Rudolph.
LOVE
Clarice accepted Rudolph for who he was and saw beyond the nose.
FRIENDSHIP
A bond was formed among Hermie, Rudolph and Yukon and the actions taken because of this connection.
MAKE SACRIFICES FOR OTHERS
Rudolph didn’t want his friends to be in any danger because of his shiny nose so ventured out on his own (Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for us).
FAMILY SUPPORT
Although in the beginning the Donners were embarrassed by their son’s nose, they sensed Rudolph was in danger from the storm and went after him.
SHOW BRAVERY
Hermie and Yukon risked their lives to save their friends from the abominable snow monster (reminds me of David and Goliath).
UNDESIRABLES CAN BE REFORMED
Yukon brought the abominable snow monster back with him to help get ready for Christmas.
DON’T LOSE HOPE
The misfits lost all confidence that Rudolph would come back and rescue them from the island--”I haven’t any more dreams to dream.”
KEEP PROMISES
Rudolph kept his promise and rescued the misfits from the island.
CAN’T RUN AWAY FROM YOUR TROUBLES
Rudolph returned home to face his problems (reminds me of the prodigal son, except Rudolph didn’t blow his inheritance).
PERSEVERANCE IN SEEMINGLY IMPOSSIBLE ODDS
Looked like the snow storm would cancel out Christmas, but Rudolph had the answer and was determined to see it through.
OUR ODDITIES CAN BE USEFUL AND CONSIDERED BLESSINGS
Rudolph realized his defect could benefit others and led the way with his nose so bright. He was the light in the storm.
Jesus is the light in our storms.
ENJOY YOUR CHRISTMAS TOMORROW!
Don’t understand why the networks televise holiday specials so far in advance, but I never can seem to pass up the opportunity to see this one-hour special every December (or maybe I’m just a sucker for a good love story even if it’s between two deer). No youngsters were around; just me all alone on a Friday night (two weeks ago) watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Whoa! Sounds like another story for my blog, but let’s not go there, at least not today.
This writing was going to focus on how we can be any age and enjoy these type of programs and mention some things about my son, Jonathan, but while watching the show, I realized there were many life lessons from this popular children’s Christmas classic.
DON’T MAKE FUN OF THOSE WHO ARE DIFFERENT
Rudolph’s peers ridiculed him for his shiny red nose and was ostracized by not being allowed to play in any more reindeer games.
DON’T CAST JUDGMENT ON THOSE WHO ARE DIFFERENT
Judging Rudolph’s character strictly by his oddity, Clarice’s father demanded that she stay away from Rudolph.
LOVE
Clarice accepted Rudolph for who he was and saw beyond the nose.
FRIENDSHIP
A bond was formed among Hermie, Rudolph and Yukon and the actions taken because of this connection.
MAKE SACRIFICES FOR OTHERS
Rudolph didn’t want his friends to be in any danger because of his shiny nose so ventured out on his own (Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for us).
FAMILY SUPPORT
Although in the beginning the Donners were embarrassed by their son’s nose, they sensed Rudolph was in danger from the storm and went after him.
SHOW BRAVERY
Hermie and Yukon risked their lives to save their friends from the abominable snow monster (reminds me of David and Goliath).
UNDESIRABLES CAN BE REFORMED
Yukon brought the abominable snow monster back with him to help get ready for Christmas.
DON’T LOSE HOPE
The misfits lost all confidence that Rudolph would come back and rescue them from the island--”I haven’t any more dreams to dream.”
KEEP PROMISES
Rudolph kept his promise and rescued the misfits from the island.
CAN’T RUN AWAY FROM YOUR TROUBLES
Rudolph returned home to face his problems (reminds me of the prodigal son, except Rudolph didn’t blow his inheritance).
PERSEVERANCE IN SEEMINGLY IMPOSSIBLE ODDS
Looked like the snow storm would cancel out Christmas, but Rudolph had the answer and was determined to see it through.
OUR ODDITIES CAN BE USEFUL AND CONSIDERED BLESSINGS
Rudolph realized his defect could benefit others and led the way with his nose so bright. He was the light in the storm.
Jesus is the light in our storms.
ENJOY YOUR CHRISTMAS TOMORROW!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
THE JOYS OF PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION
What’s with these last few weeks? Usually my life is quite uneventful--nothing to justify writing about--but such bizarre things have been happening. (Maybe starting this blog wasn’t such a great idea after all.)
Always enjoyed riding buses in the past. You could get a lot accomplished. Reading. Writing. Studying. Now, I’m not so sure. Would guess that most people think the dregs of society take public transportation. Yeah, you would have your drunkards and those with questionable hygiene, but for the most part my experience consisted of students and professional people who found life much easier with somebody else driving and less expensive.
As you know, my Saturn was in the shop until Monday evening. Decided the best way to pick up the car after work would be either by taxi ($19-$23) or the city bus ($2.25). Guess which one I chose? Besides I could spend the time writing some blogs. After work I walked a block to the bus stop and only had to wait a few minutes before it came. We had just gone a few blocks when an altercation occurred (this battle was building when I got on) between a 9-month pregnant woman and a long-haired man with crutches. They each spewed foul language and verbal insults at each other with spit flying back and forth across the aisle (he started it). The woman became so incensed she went over to the guy and started punching him. Fortunately, the bus driver’s call to the cops put this psycho drama to rest.
We sat and waited and sat and waited and sat and waited (there were several of us who had to make another connection so, of course, we weren’t in any hurry). Mr. “Wack Job” thought the woman had left (she was sitting further back) so he stepped off and sat down at the bus stop. As we waited, the woman uttered her concerns about being charged with assault. She was on probation and wondered if she should get off the bus. Being a former probation officer, I knew what I’d tell her, but decided to keep my mouth shut--just wanted to get my car. The driver received a call back and asked the woman if she wanted to press charges. She declined and gladly we were on the road again, leaving Mr. WJ in the dust. Probably not a nice thing to say, but I felt sorry for the unborn baby.
Unfortunately, we missed our connection and had to wait in the cold another 20 minutes for the next bus. I was somewhat stressed all day wondering if my car would be done and whether I should take the bus to Saturn or home. It wasn’t until walking to the bus stop that I learned the car would be ready before closing. I left work at 4:30 and arrived at Saturn at 6:15. You know, I might have made it in the same amount of time if I had walked.
Always enjoyed riding buses in the past. You could get a lot accomplished. Reading. Writing. Studying. Now, I’m not so sure. Would guess that most people think the dregs of society take public transportation. Yeah, you would have your drunkards and those with questionable hygiene, but for the most part my experience consisted of students and professional people who found life much easier with somebody else driving and less expensive.
As you know, my Saturn was in the shop until Monday evening. Decided the best way to pick up the car after work would be either by taxi ($19-$23) or the city bus ($2.25). Guess which one I chose? Besides I could spend the time writing some blogs. After work I walked a block to the bus stop and only had to wait a few minutes before it came. We had just gone a few blocks when an altercation occurred (this battle was building when I got on) between a 9-month pregnant woman and a long-haired man with crutches. They each spewed foul language and verbal insults at each other with spit flying back and forth across the aisle (he started it). The woman became so incensed she went over to the guy and started punching him. Fortunately, the bus driver’s call to the cops put this psycho drama to rest.
We sat and waited and sat and waited and sat and waited (there were several of us who had to make another connection so, of course, we weren’t in any hurry). Mr. “Wack Job” thought the woman had left (she was sitting further back) so he stepped off and sat down at the bus stop. As we waited, the woman uttered her concerns about being charged with assault. She was on probation and wondered if she should get off the bus. Being a former probation officer, I knew what I’d tell her, but decided to keep my mouth shut--just wanted to get my car. The driver received a call back and asked the woman if she wanted to press charges. She declined and gladly we were on the road again, leaving Mr. WJ in the dust. Probably not a nice thing to say, but I felt sorry for the unborn baby.
Unfortunately, we missed our connection and had to wait in the cold another 20 minutes for the next bus. I was somewhat stressed all day wondering if my car would be done and whether I should take the bus to Saturn or home. It wasn’t until walking to the bus stop that I learned the car would be ready before closing. I left work at 4:30 and arrived at Saturn at 6:15. You know, I might have made it in the same amount of time if I had walked.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED...
My coworkers got a kick out of this the other day and thought I might share it with you. Finished my third week of training in a healthcare company and learning several software programs with a myriad of procedures (have my own personal 900+ page bible to prove it). Besides researching problems, we do outbound calling using the computer to make the calls with headsets and attached miniature microphones. (What will they think of next?)
This was the first day to use the phones and to make calls. The equipment needed to be tested and the majority of the class chose to call another coworker. I tried calling my parents. “Hi, Mom,” as I explained the purpose of the call. Oh, it’s working so I thought, but Mom’s voice was audible to all. Her voice was coming through the tower instead of the headset. I tried my cell phone but could only hear a faint sound. Needed to reboot the computer and test it again.
Dialed my parents number once again. There was ringing in my ear--ah, success! A male voice answered. “Hi, Dad. Just testing the phones again.” Dad’s voice sounded a little different, but I kept talking and laughing and told everyone it was Dad this time. The conversation carried on for awhile. “Hey, what’s happening?” Dad said (odd, I’ve never heard Dad use that phrase before). While talking I happened to eye the phone number displayed on the monitor. It took a few seconds to register but finally realized that the seven-digit number was my parents, but with a San Diego County area code (the area code for my cell phone). After a short pause, I apologized and quickly hung up.
Admitted my blunder (not one to easily do that) to JB who told CS whose loud guffaw said it all and with no hesitation announced it to the entire class. The response was, well, let’s just say it hasn't been forgotten yet.
You know, after some reflection, maybe I should have stayed on the line.
This was the first day to use the phones and to make calls. The equipment needed to be tested and the majority of the class chose to call another coworker. I tried calling my parents. “Hi, Mom,” as I explained the purpose of the call. Oh, it’s working so I thought, but Mom’s voice was audible to all. Her voice was coming through the tower instead of the headset. I tried my cell phone but could only hear a faint sound. Needed to reboot the computer and test it again.
Dialed my parents number once again. There was ringing in my ear--ah, success! A male voice answered. “Hi, Dad. Just testing the phones again.” Dad’s voice sounded a little different, but I kept talking and laughing and told everyone it was Dad this time. The conversation carried on for awhile. “Hey, what’s happening?” Dad said (odd, I’ve never heard Dad use that phrase before). While talking I happened to eye the phone number displayed on the monitor. It took a few seconds to register but finally realized that the seven-digit number was my parents, but with a San Diego County area code (the area code for my cell phone). After a short pause, I apologized and quickly hung up.
Admitted my blunder (not one to easily do that) to JB who told CS whose loud guffaw said it all and with no hesitation announced it to the entire class. The response was, well, let’s just say it hasn't been forgotten yet.
You know, after some reflection, maybe I should have stayed on the line.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
CARS, DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THEM?
You wouldn’t think a 2001 Saturn still under 20,000 miles would have many problems. Wrong. The Saturn belongs to my parents and all mechanics during regular maintenance service were awed by the pristine condition of the engine. As I recall, the car always worked well for my parents, but I haven’t been as lucky and had some transmission problems in August. My parents are no longer driving and gave me the option to take the Saturn. I had a 2000 Nissan with only 37,000 miles and liked it; however, there had been too many minor mechanical problems and let Jonathan use it for awhile. He found a buyer who would pay a reasonable sum and not wanting two cars decided to let the Nissan go. As I sit in a tow truck on the way to the Saturn service department, I’m beginning to think I made the wrong choice.
Most car dealerships offer customers rides to limited destinations when vehicles are serviced, but wouldn’t it be nice if they would pick up customers when service was completed. That fact precluded my immediate return home and hung around to hear the hopeful good news. Unfortunately, it would be several hours until they knew the result, so I walked over to the mall--hey, it’s Christmas, you know, so time wouldn’t be a complete waste.
Started getting hungry after 3-½ hours of walking in and out of major department stores, fighting the ever increasing crowds, and stood in one of the three lines in the food court at McDonald’s. (Why is it that McDonald’s always has the longest lines?) Will from Saturn called my cell, and I couldn’t hear so took it outside (my stomach would have to wait). He gave me the great news--the technician recommends replacing the transmission and the battery.
So there my Saturn will be until the end of the day on Monday. It will have a new transmission and a new battery, and someone’s wallet will be $3,400 lighter. I think I’m a jinx when it comes to cars and am tempted to just walk everywhere.
Most car dealerships offer customers rides to limited destinations when vehicles are serviced, but wouldn’t it be nice if they would pick up customers when service was completed. That fact precluded my immediate return home and hung around to hear the hopeful good news. Unfortunately, it would be several hours until they knew the result, so I walked over to the mall--hey, it’s Christmas, you know, so time wouldn’t be a complete waste.
Started getting hungry after 3-½ hours of walking in and out of major department stores, fighting the ever increasing crowds, and stood in one of the three lines in the food court at McDonald’s. (Why is it that McDonald’s always has the longest lines?) Will from Saturn called my cell, and I couldn’t hear so took it outside (my stomach would have to wait). He gave me the great news--the technician recommends replacing the transmission and the battery.
So there my Saturn will be until the end of the day on Monday. It will have a new transmission and a new battery, and someone’s wallet will be $3,400 lighter. I think I’m a jinx when it comes to cars and am tempted to just walk everywhere.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
DIVINE MALE PERFORMERS
This is the definition of the Italian word, Il Divo. You may have heard about this quartet consisting of a Spaniard, a Swiss, a Frenchman, and an American. They are the brainchild of Simon Cowell, you know, that infamous judge from American Idol who spews his verbal venom upon the young. Despite the crudeness, Simon knows his stuff although has admitted to having eaten crow a time or two.
Last year I heard Il Divo sing and had forgotten how good they were until catching a performance on Oprah the other day. They sang “O Holy Night.“ WOW! Il Divo produces what I call a “double whammy”--goose bumps up the arms and chills up the spine (and they ain’t half-bad to look at either).
Have a tendency not to promote anything, let alone music, but these guys are great and there’s no doubt they could make any music style work (even country--sorry for those I might have offended). What they could do with gospel/Christian music like, “He is Exalted” and “Shout to the Lord” (guess you figured out two of my favorites). You might want to check them out.
Last year I heard Il Divo sing and had forgotten how good they were until catching a performance on Oprah the other day. They sang “O Holy Night.“ WOW! Il Divo produces what I call a “double whammy”--goose bumps up the arms and chills up the spine (and they ain’t half-bad to look at either).
Have a tendency not to promote anything, let alone music, but these guys are great and there’s no doubt they could make any music style work (even country--sorry for those I might have offended). What they could do with gospel/Christian music like, “He is Exalted” and “Shout to the Lord” (guess you figured out two of my favorites). You might want to check them out.
Saturday, December 9, 2006
SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN BED
The day started off well--completed my four-mile walk, went to the tennis court and actually hit great with seemingly extra power. My mom needed a lot of stamps, and I needed to weigh a special birthday card I would soon be mailing, so offered to go to the post office. Although the customer service area was not opened at 7:30 on Saturday, I weighed my letter but didn’t want to buy stamps out of the machine so went to the drug store next door. No, they didn’t sell any, but I could get them at the grocery store across the street. No big deal. I needed to buy some groceries anyway.
Searched the pork section for the bone-in chops on sale but found a reasonable boneless pork roast. Then found the pork chops. Which one? Asked the butcher which had the least amount of waste like I didn’t already know. The roast, of course. Down to the boxes of frozen fish. Deciding between lemon pepper and garlic herb--garlic herb was breaded, hence less fat. Oh, but boxes of southern style breaded fish were specially marked down. Grabbed several boxes and informed the lady searching through the Gorton fish section about my find. She snatched the last two boxes and seemed appreciative. I got the rest of my items and headed toward the checkout aisles.
It never fails. You go to the store early to avoid the crowds to find only one lane opened. Fortunately it wasn’t long before another lane opened up. Several moved over but I stayed put. A young gentlemen caught my attention and said he would help me over on the next aisle. He scanned a box of fish a few times but nothing happened. I told him they were marked down and showed him the sticker. He entered two boxes of fish but scanned them on the wrong department code and couldn’t correct his mistake so he got another checker to assist him. He proceeded to scan the roast. No luck there either and entered the code. The price rang up as $309.00. (Wow, what an expensive cut of meat!) With all the key punching he only managed to cut the price by a third. He kept apologizing, and I tried to reassure him that I had been there before, and I had--during the grocery strike at Ralph’s three years ago. I kindly suggested starting over again, but he was not receptive to that idea. The same checker returned and after a few futile attempts said it was best to start over. (Gee, why didn’t I think of that?) So I wouldn’t have to wait much longer, this sweet gal decided to scan all the items and then went back to her cashiering duties on the next aisle. With all the turmoil I’m amazed I didn’t forget about the stamps. I inserted the discount card and my debit card in the machine. My part was completed and kept waiting and waiting and waiting. The young man finally admitted this was his first day. Such a nice kid. A cute kid. An embarrassed kid. I was beginning to have chest pains and hoped I was that caring to actually be aching for him but think I was just getting a little too hungry. Again, he had to call over his coworker. She apologized and seemed a little embarrassed for all of us. I headed out the door and thought I should check my receipt. Oops. My discount card didn’t go through. There I was again. The supervisor gave me a refund but seemed somewhat annoyed but she had no clue what I had just endured. At least I got a bargain on the fish.
With grocery bags, purse, tennis racket, and car keys in hand, I stopped at the locked entrance of my apartment complex. I usually have my apartment keys in hand but this time wasn’t carrying two one-gallon milk cartons. Reached into my pocket and felt around amidst the cards, cash and receipt but no keys. I could hear them rattling and put everything on the ground including the contents of my pocket. The keys weren’t there but could still hear the rattling. The keys had fallen through a hole and were at the bottom of my left sweatpant leg. Without looking too idiotic (which was hard to do at this point) and praying that no one was watching, I tried to get the keys out without ripping out my pant leg. After several attempts I managed to push the keys up my pant leg until I could get them back through the hole. Yes, I definitely should have stayed in bed.
Searched the pork section for the bone-in chops on sale but found a reasonable boneless pork roast. Then found the pork chops. Which one? Asked the butcher which had the least amount of waste like I didn’t already know. The roast, of course. Down to the boxes of frozen fish. Deciding between lemon pepper and garlic herb--garlic herb was breaded, hence less fat. Oh, but boxes of southern style breaded fish were specially marked down. Grabbed several boxes and informed the lady searching through the Gorton fish section about my find. She snatched the last two boxes and seemed appreciative. I got the rest of my items and headed toward the checkout aisles.
It never fails. You go to the store early to avoid the crowds to find only one lane opened. Fortunately it wasn’t long before another lane opened up. Several moved over but I stayed put. A young gentlemen caught my attention and said he would help me over on the next aisle. He scanned a box of fish a few times but nothing happened. I told him they were marked down and showed him the sticker. He entered two boxes of fish but scanned them on the wrong department code and couldn’t correct his mistake so he got another checker to assist him. He proceeded to scan the roast. No luck there either and entered the code. The price rang up as $309.00. (Wow, what an expensive cut of meat!) With all the key punching he only managed to cut the price by a third. He kept apologizing, and I tried to reassure him that I had been there before, and I had--during the grocery strike at Ralph’s three years ago. I kindly suggested starting over again, but he was not receptive to that idea. The same checker returned and after a few futile attempts said it was best to start over. (Gee, why didn’t I think of that?) So I wouldn’t have to wait much longer, this sweet gal decided to scan all the items and then went back to her cashiering duties on the next aisle. With all the turmoil I’m amazed I didn’t forget about the stamps. I inserted the discount card and my debit card in the machine. My part was completed and kept waiting and waiting and waiting. The young man finally admitted this was his first day. Such a nice kid. A cute kid. An embarrassed kid. I was beginning to have chest pains and hoped I was that caring to actually be aching for him but think I was just getting a little too hungry. Again, he had to call over his coworker. She apologized and seemed a little embarrassed for all of us. I headed out the door and thought I should check my receipt. Oops. My discount card didn’t go through. There I was again. The supervisor gave me a refund but seemed somewhat annoyed but she had no clue what I had just endured. At least I got a bargain on the fish.
With grocery bags, purse, tennis racket, and car keys in hand, I stopped at the locked entrance of my apartment complex. I usually have my apartment keys in hand but this time wasn’t carrying two one-gallon milk cartons. Reached into my pocket and felt around amidst the cards, cash and receipt but no keys. I could hear them rattling and put everything on the ground including the contents of my pocket. The keys weren’t there but could still hear the rattling. The keys had fallen through a hole and were at the bottom of my left sweatpant leg. Without looking too idiotic (which was hard to do at this point) and praying that no one was watching, I tried to get the keys out without ripping out my pant leg. After several attempts I managed to push the keys up my pant leg until I could get them back through the hole. Yes, I definitely should have stayed in bed.
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Thinking of Laura
You may remember this song written and performed by Christopher Cross in the early 1980s. For those General Hospital fans, you may remember it used as a theme song for Luke and Laura when she returned from the dead, but actually had only been kidnapped by the Cassadine family (now, how do you suppose I knew that?).
One night while driving, the best friend of a girl Christopher Cross was dating was killed by a stray bullet. He wrote the song as a tribute to her. If you read “Death of a Childhood Friend,” on my November 25 blog, you know her name was Laura. That song has been resonating in my mind since I found out the tragic news of her death.
Laura’s brother, Gary, told me that around 750 people came to the funeral home the night of visitation to pay their respects. He also said that her husband, Brad, said “Laura would have never believed so many people would think that much of her.” That did not surprise me. Laura touched my heart when we were only kids; I can only imagine how many lives she touched throughout her life. As a wedding present in 1984, Laura sent Carl and me a special needlepoint wall hanging. That present was the most cherished and hung on our kitchen wall.
Every once in a while,
I'd see her smile
She turned my day around...
Think of Laura
But laugh don't cry
I know she'd want it that way
Hey yeah
When you think of Laura...
A friend of a friend
A friend til the end
That's the kind of girl she was
Taken away so young...
Hey, Laura
Where are you now
Are you far away from here?
I don't think so
I think you're here
Taking our tears away...
[From Christopher Cross's song, "Thinking of Laura"]
So, when you think of ______________ ... You fill in the blank.
One night while driving, the best friend of a girl Christopher Cross was dating was killed by a stray bullet. He wrote the song as a tribute to her. If you read “Death of a Childhood Friend,” on my November 25 blog, you know her name was Laura. That song has been resonating in my mind since I found out the tragic news of her death.
Laura’s brother, Gary, told me that around 750 people came to the funeral home the night of visitation to pay their respects. He also said that her husband, Brad, said “Laura would have never believed so many people would think that much of her.” That did not surprise me. Laura touched my heart when we were only kids; I can only imagine how many lives she touched throughout her life. As a wedding present in 1984, Laura sent Carl and me a special needlepoint wall hanging. That present was the most cherished and hung on our kitchen wall.
Every once in a while,
I'd see her smile
She turned my day around...
Think of Laura
But laugh don't cry
I know she'd want it that way
Hey yeah
When you think of Laura...
A friend of a friend
A friend til the end
That's the kind of girl she was
Taken away so young...
Hey, Laura
Where are you now
Are you far away from here?
I don't think so
I think you're here
Taking our tears away...
[From Christopher Cross's song, "Thinking of Laura"]
So, when you think of ______________ ... You fill in the blank.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH
No, it’s not Disneyland, at least not for me. It’s a 78-foot long, 36-foot wide rectangular flat surface with a net stretched across full width, parallel with the baselines, dividing it into two equal ends; or in other words, a tennis court. Well, that’s what I thought until this morning. Instead of tennis it seemed as if I were playing golf or baseball hitting line drives, of course, it didn’t help that it was 46 degrees outside.
Although my family played a lot of tennis, and my brother, Don, even became an instructor, I never got into the game until after my senior year in high school and two heel surgeries later. As a matter of fact, I didn’t do much physical activity prior to that time, but after the surgeries there was an appreciation for still being able to walk and soon started running and taking tennis lessons. One of my instructors (no, not my brother) told me that a professional career could have been possible had I started playing five years earlier. Gillette saw talent in me and soon I wanted to know everything about the game and began to watch it, read about it, and at times even dreamt about it.
Never was fond of high school and had enough credits to graduate a year early and did not plan to go to college. Worked for almost three years until a church friend talked me in to going to Oklahoma Christian College with her and being roommates. After checking in and doing those first day of college tasks, we toured the campus and to my delight saw the tennis courts not far from the dorms. Well, for the rest of the year, that is where you would find Debbie if not in class, studying, sleeping, or eating. The weather was never a factor and hat and gloves came in handy. For those of you who’ve never been to Oklahoma, it can be snowing in the morning and sunny and hot in the afternoon. No wonder I got strep throat.
That year was quite memorable. 1) I had my first boyfriend, Mark, who turned out to be a jerk, but sadly passed on a few years later so out of respect should not elaborate any further. 2) The education was thought provoking and never had studied the Bible so thoroughly. Seemed to know Matthew and Acts completely (though I know that‘s not possible). It’s sad that I can’t say the same thing now. 3) Beaming from ear to ear was I after hearing my name called during a school assembly in the chapel and walking down to receive a second place trophy for intramural tennis. I never had won anything before except a medal for outstanding typing in high school. 4) Being the top seed on the women’s tennis team; however, some of that WOW factor is lost when I admit there were only two of us, but Cindy played on a high school team in California, so I can be proud nonetheless.
I haven’t played much since my college days and was still using my Wilson Chris Evert wood racket until this summer. So as not to look like an obsolete dope, switched to a bigger head racket which I must admit is easier on this 50-year-old body. Now it’s all about power, but these rackets don’t seem to have the same touch as the wooden ones. Tennis is not as popular as it once was and to me Agassi was the last great player to leave the game, but really, is all that grunting necessary? Nevertheless, I’ll be at that backboard again in the morning, hopefully not looking like a golfer or a baseball player.
Remember, you can still find joy in those things you used to do well.
[Note: Thank you so much for checking me out and the nice things you have said. I want to personally acknowledge Greg, for making it possible for many of you to find me. And those of you who don’t know about this awesome preacher (his one-liners are great), you can find his blog at www.gregengland.com. Time is a factor, but I’ll do my best to respond to your comments.]
Although my family played a lot of tennis, and my brother, Don, even became an instructor, I never got into the game until after my senior year in high school and two heel surgeries later. As a matter of fact, I didn’t do much physical activity prior to that time, but after the surgeries there was an appreciation for still being able to walk and soon started running and taking tennis lessons. One of my instructors (no, not my brother) told me that a professional career could have been possible had I started playing five years earlier. Gillette saw talent in me and soon I wanted to know everything about the game and began to watch it, read about it, and at times even dreamt about it.
Never was fond of high school and had enough credits to graduate a year early and did not plan to go to college. Worked for almost three years until a church friend talked me in to going to Oklahoma Christian College with her and being roommates. After checking in and doing those first day of college tasks, we toured the campus and to my delight saw the tennis courts not far from the dorms. Well, for the rest of the year, that is where you would find Debbie if not in class, studying, sleeping, or eating. The weather was never a factor and hat and gloves came in handy. For those of you who’ve never been to Oklahoma, it can be snowing in the morning and sunny and hot in the afternoon. No wonder I got strep throat.
That year was quite memorable. 1) I had my first boyfriend, Mark, who turned out to be a jerk, but sadly passed on a few years later so out of respect should not elaborate any further. 2) The education was thought provoking and never had studied the Bible so thoroughly. Seemed to know Matthew and Acts completely (though I know that‘s not possible). It’s sad that I can’t say the same thing now. 3) Beaming from ear to ear was I after hearing my name called during a school assembly in the chapel and walking down to receive a second place trophy for intramural tennis. I never had won anything before except a medal for outstanding typing in high school. 4) Being the top seed on the women’s tennis team; however, some of that WOW factor is lost when I admit there were only two of us, but Cindy played on a high school team in California, so I can be proud nonetheless.
I haven’t played much since my college days and was still using my Wilson Chris Evert wood racket until this summer. So as not to look like an obsolete dope, switched to a bigger head racket which I must admit is easier on this 50-year-old body. Now it’s all about power, but these rackets don’t seem to have the same touch as the wooden ones. Tennis is not as popular as it once was and to me Agassi was the last great player to leave the game, but really, is all that grunting necessary? Nevertheless, I’ll be at that backboard again in the morning, hopefully not looking like a golfer or a baseball player.
Remember, you can still find joy in those things you used to do well.
[Note: Thank you so much for checking me out and the nice things you have said. I want to personally acknowledge Greg, for making it possible for many of you to find me. And those of you who don’t know about this awesome preacher (his one-liners are great), you can find his blog at www.gregengland.com. Time is a factor, but I’ll do my best to respond to your comments.]
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