Thursday, July 27, 2017
Dear Mr. Scaramucci
I've never met you. I'm glad. But I wish you had met Miss Lucy. She would have looked you in the eye (as she did me on SEVERAL occasions) and informed you that language is the true indicator of intelligence and class. The baser the vocabulary, the lower the intelligence and the lower the class. I just read on-line the publication of The Independent Daily Edition: UK and World News. You rant at the President's chief of staff using vulgarity and yellow journalistic epithets. The humorous comment that follows "I sometimes use colorful language" is perhaps the most blatant example of misrepresentation I have heard. Or so I thought. I went on to read that leaks upset you because you are a Roman Catholic? Huh? (See Miss Lucy's first caveat above!) Had you been in my classroom, Mr. Scaramucci, you would NOT HAVE BEEN in my classroom. I would never allow a student of mine to speak that way. I would never allow a child of mine to speak that way (nor would Miss Lucy!). I would never expect a reasonable adult to speak that way--especially a representative of the President. I know the words. I've used the words. Selectively. In private. When an appropriate audience is present. I would never speak that way in public. You see, I was a communications instructor for 34 years. I understand the power of language and it's ability to heighten or debase the speaker. And I am, above all else, Miss Lucy's son. Shame on you!
Friday, May 26, 2017
Reflections on being Presidential
1. When (not if, but when) you screw up,
OWN IT! The phrase, “I made a mistake”,
is not anathema. If, however, you choose
to sound a little more erudite, you can always do it in a foreign language—like
German—“Ich habe upgescrewed!” (I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes)—or Latin “Mea
Culpa! Mea Culpa! Mea maxima Culpa!” Perfection is simply unattainable. Heck, even the electoral college screws up
occasionally!
2. Having admitted your humanity, you have
several courses to follow. You can ask
for forgiveness. You can attempt to
atone. You can cry, gnash your teeth and
pull your hair, but you must do all three. Unfortunately, not having the
ability to do part three, that option wasn’t open to me! Once you have followed every course
available, MOVE ON!
Dwelling on past mistakes is like choosing to live in a dormitory your
entire life. EEEEEEK!
3. When confronted with a Herculean task
(like planning the yearly convention), decide where you want to have it, come
up with a theme, appoint an amazing committee and then sit back and watch the
true masters at work. Put another way,
pick the right people and then get out of their way so they can do their
magic. (Side note—having made those "appointments",
not one chosen member has had to resign for collusion with a foreign power!)
4. Recognize the worth of EVERY member.
5. Never underestimate the abilities of
the people around you. You will only be
wrong (see #1).
6. Plan ahead.
7. Monitor and adjust. Your original ideas may be brilliant, but
there is always someone out there with higher wattage! Allow them to shine.
8. Be visible. You can’t help someone if they don’t know you
are there.
9. Delineate what is expected of your “staff”. Each person has specific responsibilities,
but can’t/won’t perform them if they are unclear (or non-existent!)
10. Always, always, always bring fudge!
I don’t take Air Force One to my meetings—I take Ford Edge ’15—with
the VERY BEST DRIVER in the world. I don’t
own a plethora of red silk $500 ties (or for that matter, $.50 used ties
purchased at a thrift store). I wear old
man shirts that are somewhat loud, eschew ties, and are TOTALLY comfortable. My shorts show my old man legs, but they’re my
best feature so if you’ve got it…. My hair is cropped short, my wife is the
prettiest lady (and thankfully the most forgiving) I have ever met, I use
invectives on occasion (but NEVER Tweet), I have a treasure trove of PG 13
stories (and even more R rated that I don’t get to tell too often—Dirty Johnny
was my hero growing up!), I associate with the very best of the best, and can
truthfully say that edging out my non-existent opponent has been an amazing
experience. I definitely can say it’s a
great year to be president—at least for me!
Know you are loved!
Saturday, May 13, 2017
Fiddler Jones
Perhaps it's because we ran into former students and/or their progeny. Perhaps it's because on occasion, Mother Nature has an amazing way of reminding us to enjoy the time we have. Perhaps it's just because I am old and my mind wanders to an earlier time (and at least to this point, comes back!). Whatever the reason, this morning Fiddler Jones rests at the forefront of my thoughts.
Those who truly know me know I have, since high school, been infatuated with Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology. We performed the play as our senior drama farewell. Invariably, I had interpers do selections from the Anthology. I directed the play for Town Players. You would have thought I had cleansed my soul's need for sharing Mr. Masters. Yet, this morning, for whatever reason, there he was.
The earth keeps some vibration going
All too often, we become driven by rhythms others would have us hear. We succumb to the expected...the norm (if there is such a thing!). We strive to be a "success"--in the eyes of others--and subjugate our own inner drums. We are the amalgam of other expectations. Don't misunderstand. That's not necessarily a bad thing. It can be, however, if during the process, we lose our own heart's vibration. There's a popular philosophy that states in the end, we don't regret the things we have done, we regret the things we never did. Socrates said, "know thyself/" Or as Mr. Shakespear;s Polonius opined, "To thine own self be true." (Thanks, Harlene!) You may not fiddle...but you have your own beat. Syncopate today!
Those who truly know me know I have, since high school, been infatuated with Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology. We performed the play as our senior drama farewell. Invariably, I had interpers do selections from the Anthology. I directed the play for Town Players. You would have thought I had cleansed my soul's need for sharing Mr. Masters. Yet, this morning, for whatever reason, there he was.
The earth keeps some vibration going
There in your heart, and that is you.
And if the people find you can fiddle,
Why, fiddle you must, for all your life.
What do you see, a harvest of clover?
Or a meadow to walk through to the river?
The wind’s in the corn; you rub your hands
For beeves hereafter ready for market;
Or else you hear the rustle of skirts
Like the girls when dancing at Little Grove.
To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth;
They looked to me like Red-Head Sammy
Stepping it off, to “Toor-a-Loor.”
How could I till my forty acres
Not to speak of getting more,
With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos
Stirred in my brain by crows and robins
And the creak of a wind-mill--only these?
And I never started to plow in my life
That some one did not stop in the road
And take me away to a dance or picnic.
I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle--
And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,
And not a single regret.
All too often, we become driven by rhythms others would have us hear. We succumb to the expected...the norm (if there is such a thing!). We strive to be a "success"--in the eyes of others--and subjugate our own inner drums. We are the amalgam of other expectations. Don't misunderstand. That's not necessarily a bad thing. It can be, however, if during the process, we lose our own heart's vibration. There's a popular philosophy that states in the end, we don't regret the things we have done, we regret the things we never did. Socrates said, "know thyself/" Or as Mr. Shakespear;s Polonius opined, "To thine own self be true." (Thanks, Harlene!) You may not fiddle...but you have your own beat. Syncopate today!
Monday, April 10, 2017
I miss you...
I miss you, little Ruth Marie Nelson Chase Olson. When I hear that Mitch McConnell’s proudest
moment is success at thwarting the constitution to get his desires, I miss
you. When I hear that the Senate
effectively voted to overturn the rights of the minority to crown a new
supreme, I miss you. When I hear we have
lobbed missiles into Syria
and are steaming toward Korea,
I miss you. When I hear “fake news” and
“alternate facts” and watch the demise of programs that care for the poor and
threaten to cut support of the arts, I miss you. When I think of Betsy DeVos, I miss you. Your clear head and rejection of
ridiculousness would have provided, if not answers, at least
understanding. And along with you, I
miss my country: The country that
supported democratic processes: The
country that worked toward reconciliation rather than division: The country that understood that those less
fortunate than we need care: The country
that knows the impact of the arts on development of a caring population. Someone is taking it away from me. I can’t listen to the news. It only fuels my incredulity. Instead, I read, or play the piano, or work
on a speech or volunteer…or cry. I tell
people professionally that anger is a wasted emotion. It cedes control to the instigator. But I am to the point where I fear anger is
better than the feeling of despair. I
am 67 years old. I have lived my life to
do what I can to add value to the circumstances that I encounter. With a little luck (and some decent genes), I
will live a few more years. I believe
that in time, my country will recognize what’s happening and return to the
humanity it used to symbolize. Tweets
will come from birds, bullies will be rebuked, and even though we disagree, my
right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness will be recognized. Sooner than later, please! Cue music—“This is My Country.”
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
The "tour" de force--in rhyme, of course!
For those of you who have been here before, you know that inside me lurks a rhyming savant--I may not do many things well, but I can rhyme! Case in point...
The Great White Stay--Le Grand Sejour Blanc
So some of us drove and some of us flew
Some we did know--we'll know all when we're through.
Exposure the first? A room full of stuff
'Twas boots, coats, and hats to warm us enough
And thousands of geese who gave up their all
To keep up us quite warm so we'll have a ball!
The group quite diverse but not so with name.
There's Bill, Bill, and Bill and none quite the same.
The Y chromosomes, replete with three more
And two start with T--Trent--Tad names they wore.
That leaves us one man whose name is unique
'Tis Jeffrey our friend, and fun he does seek!
The ladies? Quite differ in manner and name
There's Barbara, Denise, in no way the same.
We've Jackie and Peggy, Patricia, Miss Vaugn,
Nancy and Sarah and Cathy along.
And this was the group Samantha did meet
Her job? To inspire and make trip so sweet.
We start out with food, a supper surprise...
The weather determined a railroad demise
A plot shift indeed but options we talk--
Then back to our rooms...I waddle...some walk.
The bed it does call...adventure awaits
I bid you good night...we're friends now...we're mates!
Day two--jour deals
A breakfast that's hot, then on to the bus
Morning museum with nary a fuss
The planets glide by, the sparklers appear
Two bears--two dogs in the sky--not to fear.
Then hist'ry of province and ship named Nunsuch
Displaying it's bosoms on stern oh so much!
A taste of the French is our stop for lunch
Receiving high praise from our motley bunch
Then ' other museum, high tech--bits and bytes
Remind us of tenets--of wrongs and our rights.
'Twas supper came next, then hotel did call
The morning comes early--good night one and all!
Day 3--Jour trois
We're working real hard to stifle a yawn
For leaving was at the butt crack of dawn,
To airport we head, board plane that will go
To Churchill, our goal, and wait for the show.
The morning? Explore! Then what do we do?
Why eat...need you ask...let's try something new.
There's ops for photos and Myrtle, a hoot
Be strong and be brave, but your own horn don't toot!
Comestibles done we gear up and go
The breath we do hold while waiting for show
Aurora provides--Amazing, Devine
A long day is done, it's time to unwind!
Day Four--Jour Quatre
Good breakfast is done, we pull up a spot
Samantha informs of things we know not!
But thankful are we that she knows a bunch
Two trivia champs when we go eat lunch!
A tour through a part of Center quite large
A bear's mouth a slide? It gives us a charge.
Itsanitaq lore--aboriginal things
Like carving, and stories, the history brings.
A stop at Parks Can., then home for a rest
Before we eat more, it's what we do best!
And following supper, a film and a drink
One made us sleepy, one made us think
But now is the time for eyelids to close
To rest for what comes--tomorrow--who knows!
Day five--Jour cinq
Appropriately named--a church on a hill
A hist'ry lesson with our host named Bill
The stained glass window that if it could talk
Would tell us a story our minds it might shock.
Of course there was lunch--we shall not abstain
The thought of a diet goes right down the drain
Then curling begins, the stones we do throw
We choose up our sides--we won don't you know!
And special this day, not just cause it's cold
We celebrate Barb...my god she's how old?
The birthday dessert gives just the right touch
To send us to dome--to see lights and such.
And two stay out late--for them light teasers
The rest head to bed...I guess we be geezers!
Day 6--Jour six (pronounced sis)
No way that this day could start any better
The toast it was great the coffee seemed wetter
And what was the cause? Of course you must know
Potatoes for breakfast! We're ready to go.
On bus we do gather to head to our spot
Researching up north--some learnin' we got
And snow cut with saws and piled up just so
The igloo was built while the wind it did blow!
Then Gypsies for lunch, desserts were our start
From Fred and mom Helen, we sadly depart!
It's back on the bus, to mushers we go
The very best way to get through the snow!
One final attempt to capture the lights
Alas sweet Aurora she gave us no brights.
So home for one more--one time we do sleep
We're needing our rest for schedule to keep
Epilogue
We start with plot twist, we end the same way
The last day has changed--we learned it today.
The shoes for the snow we give up quite hard
But early we leave thanks to Mr. Blizzard.
We break our fast then we get in the van
Sweet Lawrence does drive, he's such a nice man.
We'll finish the trip--Fort Garry we'll sleep
And say our goodbyes, but mem'ries we'll keep.
Life's not defined by the places you end
It's simply about the joy of a friend.
And that's what we are and because this is true
It's safe to say thanks...we truly love you!
The Great White Stay--Le Grand Sejour Blanc
So some of us drove and some of us flew
Some we did know--we'll know all when we're through.
Exposure the first? A room full of stuff
'Twas boots, coats, and hats to warm us enough
And thousands of geese who gave up their all
To keep up us quite warm so we'll have a ball!
The group quite diverse but not so with name.
There's Bill, Bill, and Bill and none quite the same.
The Y chromosomes, replete with three more
And two start with T--Trent--Tad names they wore.
That leaves us one man whose name is unique
'Tis Jeffrey our friend, and fun he does seek!
The ladies? Quite differ in manner and name
There's Barbara, Denise, in no way the same.
We've Jackie and Peggy, Patricia, Miss Vaugn,
Nancy and Sarah and Cathy along.
And this was the group Samantha did meet
Her job? To inspire and make trip so sweet.
We start out with food, a supper surprise...
The weather determined a railroad demise
A plot shift indeed but options we talk--
Then back to our rooms...I waddle...some walk.
The bed it does call...adventure awaits
I bid you good night...we're friends now...we're mates!
Day two--jour deals
A breakfast that's hot, then on to the bus
Morning museum with nary a fuss
The planets glide by, the sparklers appear
Two bears--two dogs in the sky--not to fear.
Then hist'ry of province and ship named Nunsuch
Displaying it's bosoms on stern oh so much!
A taste of the French is our stop for lunch
Receiving high praise from our motley bunch
Then ' other museum, high tech--bits and bytes
Remind us of tenets--of wrongs and our rights.
'Twas supper came next, then hotel did call
The morning comes early--good night one and all!
Day 3--Jour trois
We're working real hard to stifle a yawn
For leaving was at the butt crack of dawn,
To airport we head, board plane that will go
To Churchill, our goal, and wait for the show.
The morning? Explore! Then what do we do?
Why eat...need you ask...let's try something new.
There's ops for photos and Myrtle, a hoot
Be strong and be brave, but your own horn don't toot!
Comestibles done we gear up and go
The breath we do hold while waiting for show
Aurora provides--Amazing, Devine
A long day is done, it's time to unwind!
Day Four--Jour Quatre
Good breakfast is done, we pull up a spot
Samantha informs of things we know not!
But thankful are we that she knows a bunch
Two trivia champs when we go eat lunch!
A tour through a part of Center quite large
A bear's mouth a slide? It gives us a charge.
Itsanitaq lore--aboriginal things
Like carving, and stories, the history brings.
A stop at Parks Can., then home for a rest
Before we eat more, it's what we do best!
And following supper, a film and a drink
One made us sleepy, one made us think
But now is the time for eyelids to close
To rest for what comes--tomorrow--who knows!
Day five--Jour cinq
Appropriately named--a church on a hill
A hist'ry lesson with our host named Bill
The stained glass window that if it could talk
Would tell us a story our minds it might shock.
Of course there was lunch--we shall not abstain
The thought of a diet goes right down the drain
Then curling begins, the stones we do throw
We choose up our sides--we won don't you know!
And special this day, not just cause it's cold
We celebrate Barb...my god she's how old?
The birthday dessert gives just the right touch
To send us to dome--to see lights and such.
And two stay out late--for them light teasers
The rest head to bed...I guess we be geezers!
Day 6--Jour six (pronounced sis)
No way that this day could start any better
The toast it was great the coffee seemed wetter
And what was the cause? Of course you must know
Potatoes for breakfast! We're ready to go.
On bus we do gather to head to our spot
Researching up north--some learnin' we got
And snow cut with saws and piled up just so
The igloo was built while the wind it did blow!
Then Gypsies for lunch, desserts were our start
From Fred and mom Helen, we sadly depart!
It's back on the bus, to mushers we go
The very best way to get through the snow!
One final attempt to capture the lights
Alas sweet Aurora she gave us no brights.
So home for one more--one time we do sleep
We're needing our rest for schedule to keep
Epilogue
We start with plot twist, we end the same way
The last day has changed--we learned it today.
The shoes for the snow we give up quite hard
But early we leave thanks to Mr. Blizzard.
We break our fast then we get in the van
Sweet Lawrence does drive, he's such a nice man.
We'll finish the trip--Fort Garry we'll sleep
And say our goodbyes, but mem'ries we'll keep.
Life's not defined by the places you end
It's simply about the joy of a friend.
And that's what we are and because this is true
It's safe to say thanks...we truly love you!
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
A "tasty" vent
Food blogs--an interesting phenomenon! 32,850 pictures. Descriptions that would make WAR AND PEACE seem like a light, short read. By the time you get to the recipe, thoughts of retribution float through your head, along with the overwhelming belief, "This had dad-gum better be worth it!" And some are. Most aren't and in the time you have taken to get to the recipe, you could have solved world hunger, walked on the moon, visited (and returned from) Mars, or at least have had a cup of coffee and a piece of left-over pie!
Not this blog!
Here's the recipe you REALLY want to try--good at first bite--good for breakfast warmed over (or up!). Try it, knowing how much you are loved!
Mushroom Chicken Sausage Casserole
3/4 cup cubed chicken (I also have used left-over turkey!)
1 pound Jimmy Dean Hot pork sausage
2 stalks celery, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
1/2 pound mushrooms, sliced
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
1 head cauliflower, broken into flowerettes and steamed in the microwave until crisp tender
8 oz. cheddar cheese, shredded
Salt and pepper to taste
Brown the sausage with the celery, onion, and mushrooms. Stir in the softened cream cheese and stir until well blended. Add the chicken, cauliflower and 6 oz of the cheddar cheese. Turn into a greased 9X13 pan. Sprinkle remaining cheese on top and bake at 350 for 40 minutes.
Recipe says makes 8-12 servings. Fat chance. Your first serving might be normal. After that, you will begin with a little more, and perhaps go back!!!! ENJOY!
Not this blog!
Here's the recipe you REALLY want to try--good at first bite--good for breakfast warmed over (or up!). Try it, knowing how much you are loved!
Mushroom Chicken Sausage Casserole
3/4 cup cubed chicken (I also have used left-over turkey!)
1 pound Jimmy Dean Hot pork sausage
2 stalks celery, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
1/2 pound mushrooms, sliced
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
1 head cauliflower, broken into flowerettes and steamed in the microwave until crisp tender
8 oz. cheddar cheese, shredded
Salt and pepper to taste
Brown the sausage with the celery, onion, and mushrooms. Stir in the softened cream cheese and stir until well blended. Add the chicken, cauliflower and 6 oz of the cheddar cheese. Turn into a greased 9X13 pan. Sprinkle remaining cheese on top and bake at 350 for 40 minutes.
Recipe says makes 8-12 servings. Fat chance. Your first serving might be normal. After that, you will begin with a little more, and perhaps go back!!!! ENJOY!
Saturday, February 25, 2017
The biggest question...
Who speaks for me?
Obviously not the president of the United States. He thwarts the first amendment by denying public media access to information. He thwarts decency by calling that same media the biggest enemy of the people. He surrounds himself with people who obviously live in an alternate reality, averring "alternate facts" and "fake news" when they can't explain their lies.
Obviously not our senate contingent, who voted to seat a Secretary of Education who has no experience in or knowledge of public education, citing the battle cry of "local control" as their reasoning...never explaining how Secretary DeVos or her privatization of education would enhance local control. Instead, their lock-step support of a partisan vote totally ignored and discredited the thoughts of the educators in the state who vehemently opposed this nomination. And don't get me started on economic support of their campaigns! Really? You didn't know, Senator Rounds, where $47,000 of campaign support funding came from? That's frightening!
It's time! The answer to the original question is...I! Complacency is no longer an option. It's time to speak out...to decry the usurpation of my constitutional rights. To question just exactly who our "representatives" represent. There are those of you who will take exception to this post. Good! There are those of you who might consider things from a different perspective. Better! And the answer is not only I. We ALL need to speak for us, before we no longer have the right!
Obviously not the president of the United States. He thwarts the first amendment by denying public media access to information. He thwarts decency by calling that same media the biggest enemy of the people. He surrounds himself with people who obviously live in an alternate reality, averring "alternate facts" and "fake news" when they can't explain their lies.
Obviously not our senate contingent, who voted to seat a Secretary of Education who has no experience in or knowledge of public education, citing the battle cry of "local control" as their reasoning...never explaining how Secretary DeVos or her privatization of education would enhance local control. Instead, their lock-step support of a partisan vote totally ignored and discredited the thoughts of the educators in the state who vehemently opposed this nomination. And don't get me started on economic support of their campaigns! Really? You didn't know, Senator Rounds, where $47,000 of campaign support funding came from? That's frightening!
It's time! The answer to the original question is...I! Complacency is no longer an option. It's time to speak out...to decry the usurpation of my constitutional rights. To question just exactly who our "representatives" represent. There are those of you who will take exception to this post. Good! There are those of you who might consider things from a different perspective. Better! And the answer is not only I. We ALL need to speak for us, before we no longer have the right!
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