Category Archives: A question

What kind of shoes do nuns wear?

A question, , ,

the sound of musicDid anyone watch The Sound of Music live?  I didn’t think I’d like it but discovered those songs make up for a lot.

There was one part, one thing I was very picky about.  When Maria first came to the Von Trapp estate, she’s supposed to be dress very horribly beause she’s a nun–okay, a novice.  Julie Andrews looked terrible and dowdy.  The dress Carrie Underwood  wore was pretty nice.   It had great lines and looked terrific  and most un-nunly on her body.    However, I was able to suspend my disbelief–beause of those song–and pretended that nicely cut dress was exactly what a poor nun would wear.    Then I saw Maria’s shoeshoes.  They were nice and probably comfortable pumps.  Light brown, almost blending with her skin color with heels between 2 1/2 to 3 inches tall.  They made me feel that Miss Underwood wasn’t totally commited to her part.    I can forgive a great deal if I like the music, but those shoes bothered me everytime.   Everytime I’ve seen a nun, she’s weaings flat, lace-up shoes in a dark color.  Yes, I could accept alot as long as the cast kept singing–but   the anachronism of those pretty shoes on a nun bothered me every time.  And, yes, I know I’m shallow.  And picky.

What bothers you more than it should?

I am the unemployed

A question, Confession, Musings

Well, I’m not really all the unemployed but I thought that title sounded very author-y.   And yet,  I have been unemployed–on unemployment unemployed maninsurance two times.  I’m not lazy or a leech. I don’t want to become dependent on  government handouts and live unemployed for the rest of my life.  I wanted a job both because  I wanted to work as I always had and because unemployment pays less than fifty percent of what any of my jobs paid.  However, I couldn’t find a job.  I substitue taught but wasn’t hired to teach.  I applied for many jobs because that’s part of receiving unemployment:  you have to show that you are looking for a job.   Wanting to work but not being able to find work is the story of the kid filling out job applicationmajority–if not all–the unemployed today.

Why are the unemployed called “unemployed”?  Because they were at one time employed and then something happened which made them “unemployed.”  Yes. the very term “unemployed” means that these people were working, were employed, had held down a job, earned money, supported themselves and their families.

Then they lost their jobs.  Why?   Could be because their job moved overseas, just got up and left.  Could be because when the depression hit, EIGHT million jobs disappeared into the air.  They are no longer available, no longer exist.   No one can apply or be hired for  one of those jobs.   I was laid off because the non-profit had a huge deficit and they had to cut jobs.   After jobs of  low-salary employees were trimmed,  I was next because I made a fair salary and had only worked there seven months.     Not my fault.

The first time I was unemployed, we lived in a small town in West Texas where the only jobs were fast food and nursing.  I have nothing against working in fast food but, physically, I can’t stand for any length of time.   To become a nurse,  I would have to go back to school which would take years and money we didn’t have.   I was unemploysed for a year, until we moved to Houston where there were lots of jobs.

If you haven’t been employed, if you have a job now, please don’t judge the great number of those without work.  It’s hard out there.  For every job, there are three application.  When a Wal-Mart opened in DC, there were six-hundred job opening.  Seventeen-THOUSAND applied!

What are your thoughts?  I’d like to know.

I know I’m picky but . . .

A question, Musings, , ,

I’m picky.  I know that.   I try not to be but I am.  If I see something wrong on television or in a move, it bothers me.  I haven’t finished some books because I find errors I can’t accept, that distract me from the story..

A recent example:  I was watching a really terrible Richard Gere movie. richard gere He’d been an assassin but retired twenty years before the story began and became a CIA agent working against terrorism.   However, he had to return to killing people.  I don’t remember the reason or if there even was one–it was not a good movie so I don’t know if he had a motivation–but he did.

WatchHis method  was novel.   He had a watch with a thin wire inside which he used to garrote people.   He activated this by pulling out the stem of the watch to which the wire was attached and easily pulled the length of wire from inside.  The wire was so thin it left a bloody cut in the throat.  After the victim died, Gere simply let go of the watch stem and the wire would contract back inside, ready to kill again.  At no time did he clean the wire.

This left me with two questions I’d really like your opinion on.    1)    Wouldn’t the dried blood on the wire make it difficult to pull it out when the time came for the next murder?   2)   He’d been using this watch for twenty-five years.  Wouldn’t an unpleasant odor come from the blood inside?

Just wondering.  Because I’m picky and things like this bother me.

Thank you.

 

 

Where are you at? I mean, literally?

A question, , , ,

I taught Spanish for many years.  Some of my students were fascinated by the Royal Spanish Academy.   Composed of the best writers, grammarians and real academiaintellectuals, the group decides the rules of the language, if they changed or stay the same. They publish dictionaries and grammar texts containing  the correct grammar rules and word usage.  I have one, a very old one.  The reason is an effort to keep the language from changing too much so, centuries latr, literature can be read and undertood, so people distant from each other can still chat without a translator.

Americans  have a populist view of grammar and change the rules as we go.   Although I cringe when I hear, “Where’s it at?” or “Do you want to go with?”  I realize that’s just how we roll.

literally2We’ve even changed words to accomodate people who use them incorrectly.  For example:  literally.  Up until recently, literally meant truely or actually, as in:  I was literally holding my breath until he left.

However, over the past years, people have not understood this useage and began to say things like, “I literally turned blue from holding my breath.”    It seems to add emphasis.

So what did the publishers of dictionaries do?   They added the second meaning:  perceived as true.   So now we literally have a word that means the opposite of itself:  truely and not actually.  But that’s how we roll.

What words or uses drive you crazy?  Have you learned to accept change?

Macho and kind? Is that possible?

A question, Musings, University of Louisville, , , , , ,

Luke kneeling wiht KevinIn 2012, during the next-to-the-last weekend of the NCAA basketball tournament, University of Louisville player Kevin Ware went down with a horrific injury, a compound fracture of the right leg.    His team mates fell on the floor in horror.  They cried and wrapped their arms around each other.   Players from both teams said they nearly threw up.  The crowd gasped and sobbed and turned away.

Except Luke Hancock.  After a few motionless moments, he realized Kevin lay on the floor in pain and alone.  Luke hurdled the courtside railing to reach and kneel next to Kevin, to hold his hand, and ask Kevin if he’d like to pray.  He calmed Kevin and all who watched even as the medical team arrived and took over.do justice love kindness

I’m still amazed at the maturity of Luke Hancock.  Even at my advanced age, I doubt I’d have recognized the need of Kevin Ware and responded so quickly and so perfectly.     The Cards won the NCCA championship the next weekend and Luke was named MVP of the Final Four, but that one moment made me respect Luke more than anything, that outpouring of kindness that defines him as a man.    

Yes, kindness.    One of my favorite verses of the Bible is from Micah:  “What does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love  kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

Now we’re hearing about hazing and racism in professional football.    A player  admits he made racists remarks against a young player as well as threatening horrifying acts toward family members of that player.   Even worse, team members back up the bullying with the excuse that’s what happens in the testosterone-heavy atmosphere of pro-football and that’s how a real man acts.  The player who left the team is being called a wimp, a pansy, and words I cannot (and would not) write here. 

Is bullying ever acceptable?   Do athletes need to toughen up  rookies?  I have a feeling I know how you’d answer.   But in our society, which is more admired?    I’m going with Luke Hancock.   

 

 

 

Do you know the difference between a clarinet and a trombone?

A question, Church, Musings, ,

A friend  of mine plays an instrument in a brass ensemble.  I have no lots of musical instrumentsidea what she plays but she does it very well.    Due to the efforts of my fifth grade teacher to have us learn the differences between musical instruments, I can recognize many:  all percussions and strings.  It helped  that  I played the viola for two really uncomfortable years during which I never one got the rhythm correct and usually played violawhen everyone else observed a rest.  

But while that teacher struggled to show us how they looked she didn’t do anything  to teach us how they sounded.  That would have been hard way back when she would have had to use 78 records and a record player.  Hard to pause those.

So, yes, I can tell you when a cello is being played and differentiate that from other strings.  I recognize various drums, a triangle, the glockenspiel and a piano.  But the  horns—woodwinds or brass, well, I don’t have the slightest idea.  I can listen to and enjoy a piece but don’t expect me to know what section carried the melody.  I don’t know. 

My friend plays in a musical ensemble at church—I’m thankful that we have very talented musicians who share their gifts with us.  music in church After their lovely special music one Sunday, I thanked the musicians, then said to my friend, “What instrument do you play?”  She laughed and laughed and said, “Oh, Jane, you’re so funny.”

I hadn’t realized my remark had been amusing.   Embarrassed, I asked no more, just laughed and pretended I knew exactly what instrument she was playing and how it sounded. 

The point is that  people who know stuff believe other people know bankthe same stuff.   This leads to great miscommunication.  When I attempted to take over the automatic pay at the bank after George died, I was talking with a customer service rep who was talking to an IT person,  After three hours, the IT person realized I didn’t know anything about automatic bill paying and neither did the really nice customer service guy.  What I needed to know was that the information on the auto-pay couldn’t be switched from George’s account to mine, that I had to start all over.  He told the customer service guy who didn’t understand this.  Then the customer service guy told me but we both thought this sounded stupid and duplicated payments.  It wasn’t until I went to the bank and threatened to close all my accounts (one checking, one money market, and three CDs.  They didn’t want to lose me), did we put all of our misunderstanding together so that I could finally stop $750 from disappearing from the account each month to pay bills I wanted to change. 

And oh my, do I know that this is happening in our country.  We talk past each other.  We may agree on more than we think—we just don’t know that.   Or we believe the other people hold our same beliefs.  I just learned that a conservative didn’t realize that having a mortgage means he has borrowed money and live in debt.  If we come to a debt or deficit discussion with such different understandings, how can we ever hope to find that common ground?  How can people discuss if one groups believes abortion is murder and the other believes women have the right to chose what is best for her?  Again, we talk past each other.  We assume.   We know what we know but may not know that YOU don’t know what I know.  

Which leads us to the problems caused by not knowing the difference between a clarinet and a trombone. 

Do good people ever use bad words?

A question, Butternut Creek, Writing, , ,

two legs gone marineIn emails and reviews, I’ve been excoriated because one of my characters uses “bad words”   Sam’s an alcoholic Marine amputee suffering from PTSD and mourning the death of his best friend in combat.   At the beginning of THE WELCOME COMMITTEE OF BUTTERNUT CREEK, Sam’s having a bad time.  First, he’s under fire in Afghanistan and shouts, “Where the hell are the  . .”  I’m going to confess, if I’m taking fire and there isn’t any suppressing fire coming in, I’d get a little anxious.  I may be tempted to curse.  Tempted, nothing, I’d probably let go with a string of  words I never use normally.  I thought Sam showed great patience.   However, several of my readers didn’t.  One lady wrote me a long email about how Christians never used potty mouth girlthose terrible words.  Then she pointed out the words that Sam used on page. 28 and page 49 and page 126.   I got the feeling she didn’t read the book.  She just looked for the bad words.  That breaks my heart because I think she’d have enjoyed the material that came between the three really not horrible words. I think she might have been inspired if she’d read the book.

Look at the reviews of my Butternut Creek series on amazon.com.  According to some reviewers, I’m the most potty-mouthed writer in the history of the world.    My feeling is that we are not perfect.  That in moments of stress and fear and sorrow God understands we may say words we wouldn’t use in front of our grandmothers–and I believe God looks at our situation and says, “I understand.  Just don’t use the F-bomb.” 

Although I’d never use the F-bomb in any of my books, surely there are characters who would.  I mean, a serial murder probably isn’t going so say, “Oh, shaving cream” when the man he’s supposed to kill get the drop on him.   There are characters like Al Capone and Scarface that probably used words I’d never think of saying or writing because they ran with a pretty tough set.  My only big problem is when the worst of the four-letter words are used in place of good writing, that’s just laziness.

So, what’s your opinion.   Sam’s not a Christian yet.  Should he be judged for using an occasional curse?   Do Christians sometimes say “heck” or “darn” or even worse words? Is that all right or not?    If you’ve read my novels have you been ashamed that I used a few curses?   I’d love to know your opinion.

 

Commercials–a necessary evil

A question, Musings, , ,

popcornTelevision isn’t free.  We have to pay for what we watch, either through ads, cable  or contributions.   If the production companies don’t make money, they won’t produce episodes.  This is parallel to the fact writers know.  I want people to buy my books so my publisher and I make money and I can afford to write and my  publisher can affort to print and distribute them.   Even knowing that,  I’m not much of a commercial fan.   Like you, I can usually think of something to do during those breaks–fix popcorn, get a Coke, fold the wash, go to the bathroom, take a shower, and so on.   But when I DO watch them, I love some, hate others, and  just wonder about a few.  Here are my categories.  Please add your own.

Commercials that make me laugh or smile:   I love many of the Geiko ads:   hump day and this little piggy  are special favors.   I loved the pig shouting, “This little piggy went wee-wee-wee all the way home” and cannot understand how this little pigthat woman driving can be such a grump.

You probably have figured I like any commercial with an animal in it.  My favorite comes from the Superbowl of many years ago, Herding Cats.  If you haven’t seen it, try this.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_MaJDK3VNE     I have to admit, I don’t know what company it’s for but I love it.

Commercials that make me cry:     Do you remember the Folger’s commercial  where the kids comes home early from college and puts a potorigami of coffee on?   Hallmark card commmercials can make me choke up.   A new favorite is a chewing gum commercial in which the father makes an origami swan every time his daughter is sad.  

Commercials that frustrate me:    Those with no words, just music.  I spend much of my time preparing meals, cleaning the kitchen orwashing cloths.  If I’m lucky, I can glance at the screen for a few seconds.  Many years ago there was a commerical for a winery  The scene was a wedding, beautiful people on a beauitful green lawn with beautiful music in the background.  All I’m aware of is the music.  At some time during that ad, an announcer should say, “Flowers Sisters Wine presents this weeding,” so I kow what company is spending all that  money to influence me. 

Commercials I hate:  Anything with a Zombie in it.  Not wanting to sound bigoted, but zombies are gross.  I don’t want anything that zombies buy.  

Beer commercial which lead college guys to believe if they only drink enough beer, they will be in with the cool guys and women will crowd around him for attention.  Yes, gorgeous and worldly women are always impressed by the clever conversation from a drunk college boy who vomits on their shoes.

What about you?  What do you like to watch or what commericals make you leave the room?

Things I do not understand

A question, Happening Now, Musings, Stuff, Technology, , ,

imagesMy blog was down for a few days until Cheryl Rae, who does such a great job taking care of technical stuff I can’t figure out, got me back on.   This morning, when I sat down to write this blog, I couldn’t get on again.   So I restarted.  When the screen came back up, there was my WordPress login box and here I am.  I guess I’m going to have to restart every time I want to blog which seems unhandy, to say the least.  I don’t understand this at all.

However, because I logged on this morning with absolutely no idea what to blog about, I’m thankful for that glitch.  

I have an iMac which I like although there are some oddity which still confuse me.  That’s why I’m getting another training session this week.  As I type this, a large white arrow pointing to the top of the screen flashes on and off with some key strokes.  I don’t understand that either.  [Wow!  I figured it out.  That means my cap lock is on!  Now I understand something!]  There’s also a symbol like a cloverleaf ramp on an interstate that comes on and makes everything go crazy (I know that’s not exact but I can’t explain it any better) and I cannot type.  Yet one more thing I do not comprehend.images1

And my bank.  I left our automatic bill pay in the system George set up.  Now I need to change some of those.  One is  $56.89 payment which is deducted every month.  The next month I get a check for this exact amount which I deposit.  I’ve called the company and they have no record of either receiving the money or sending me the check.   Seems like sloppy bookkeeping but I can’t do anything about that.  What I CAN do is take that item off the bill pay.  But I can’t.  Although George is no longer on any accounts, this one keeps running along, paying bills and not letting anyone into it.   I’ve used his codes and get an “account closed” message.   I’ve spent hours on the phone with the national tech people for the bank.   The only suggestion they have was that I set up an account of my own and enter the bills to be paid.  This means, of course, that everyone except the $56.89 guy will be paid twice.    They offered to make the changes for me but, you know, I think I should be able to get into my account.    I don’t understand why a bank cannot delete that but they can’t so I’m going to have to withdraw my funds and go to another bank.

This is why I think it would be easier to dig a hole in the yard and bury all the money there.  However, the apartment managers have told me not to do that anymore.

What don’t you understand?  I always feel better to know I’m not alone.    And if you know what the cloverleaf symbol means, please let me know.