Can I please have your personal phone number, and that of all the people who make the unsolicited telephone calls for you? I'd like to be able to call you, and them, at any time of the day or evening, no matter what you are doing: working, eating, trying to relax; no matter what your situation is at the time: celebrating a victory, mourning a loss, greeting friends or family not seen in a long time, trying to work out a serious problem with work or personal life, meeting a work deadline - you fill in the blanks. I find it damn annoying and would say that I won't vote for any candidate who disrupts my life for their personal gain, except that you all seem to think it is perfectly all right to do so. I thought there were laws to prevent this - oh, wait, there are, except that the clever politicians gave themselves an out so that they could do it.
Well, I don't like it, and I would like you to stop bothering me! I would especially like you to stop having recordings do your dirty work - if you and your supporters insist on being a pain in the butt to the general public, at least have the courage to do it in person, so that you can reap the consequences of someone like myself who is liable to tell you where to take your phone call campaign. It's intrusive, and having robotic voices do it for you is cowardly. To me, the political integrity of all of the candidates is already in question for the smarmy, unethical, ridiculous campaign tactics of not saying what you will do for us, only what the other candidates have done wrong, and the phone campaign only adds to my disgust with all.
Please be so good as to take my phone number off your lists. Constantly demanding that I interrupt my life to answer your calls is harming rather than helping the odds that I will vote for you.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Add to the list of things I just don’t get
Why is it that people who otherwise consider themselves so courteous and considerate to everyone around them have no qualms whatsoever about interrupting some people when they are talking?
Now I’m not talking (well, actually usually I am and this happens to me, which is the whole point behind this posting) about a bunch of people in a bar when everyone is talking at once, or some other equally situation where politeness is not the first consideration. I’m talking about in a two or three person conversation, or, like tonight, at a meeting where for all the other speakers it’s been one person’s turn to speak and then another person’s and the rest of us wait until that person is finished before we start.
My boss does it to me constantly. And usually glosses it over by ‘well, you stopped talking’ ‘No, I was in the middle of a word’ ‘No, you stopped’ and usually I give up because I really am trying to pick my battles. Although occasionally I have walked out of the room or just turned around and started doing something else. Oh, and yeah, this has been going on for years.
But now there’s another person from work who has started to do it. I let it pass when it happened a few days ago. Tonight it happened twice, the first time I kind of let it pass, the second I just sat there when she got done with what she had to say, had to say before I finished what I was saying, and when someone else said ‘what were you saying’, I didn’t respond immediately and the person who had interrupted then said ‘oh she’s made because I interrupted her – again’.
You’re flippin’ well right I was mad, and you making a joke of it and making it seem like it’s my fault because I mind your rudeness just makes me madder. And what I was really doing was trying to control myself so as not to be equally rude and say some thing I’d only be chastised for later (business meeting, the boss was there).
But if she’d’a done it again I probably would have got up and gone over and bit her effing nose off. And I might if she keeps doing it. Except that tonight she had a sudden allergy attack and her nose was running and that would have been just too icky.
But what makes otherwise civilized people do things like that? I just don’t get it.
Add that to my list.
Here’s what I think – rude is rude, and if you’ve been rude at least be polite enough to own up and say ‘sorry’, don’t make it the other person’s fault. I hope it comes back and bites them in the ass some time. Is that rude of me?
Now I’m not talking (well, actually usually I am and this happens to me, which is the whole point behind this posting) about a bunch of people in a bar when everyone is talking at once, or some other equally situation where politeness is not the first consideration. I’m talking about in a two or three person conversation, or, like tonight, at a meeting where for all the other speakers it’s been one person’s turn to speak and then another person’s and the rest of us wait until that person is finished before we start.
My boss does it to me constantly. And usually glosses it over by ‘well, you stopped talking’ ‘No, I was in the middle of a word’ ‘No, you stopped’ and usually I give up because I really am trying to pick my battles. Although occasionally I have walked out of the room or just turned around and started doing something else. Oh, and yeah, this has been going on for years.
But now there’s another person from work who has started to do it. I let it pass when it happened a few days ago. Tonight it happened twice, the first time I kind of let it pass, the second I just sat there when she got done with what she had to say, had to say before I finished what I was saying, and when someone else said ‘what were you saying’, I didn’t respond immediately and the person who had interrupted then said ‘oh she’s made because I interrupted her – again’.
You’re flippin’ well right I was mad, and you making a joke of it and making it seem like it’s my fault because I mind your rudeness just makes me madder. And what I was really doing was trying to control myself so as not to be equally rude and say some thing I’d only be chastised for later (business meeting, the boss was there).
But if she’d’a done it again I probably would have got up and gone over and bit her effing nose off. And I might if she keeps doing it. Except that tonight she had a sudden allergy attack and her nose was running and that would have been just too icky.
But what makes otherwise civilized people do things like that? I just don’t get it.
Add that to my list.
Here’s what I think – rude is rude, and if you’ve been rude at least be polite enough to own up and say ‘sorry’, don’t make it the other person’s fault. I hope it comes back and bites them in the ass some time. Is that rude of me?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Tribute
Read before both performances yesterday:
Ladies and Gentlemen, on this ninth anniversary of the attacks on World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the crash of Flight 93 we ask you to join us in a moment of silence in memory not only of the people lost in those tragedies, but for all those people who are defending our country and also protecting and serving us here at home: the military, the police, the firefighters and the emergency medical workers who are always there for us when we need them, and who sometimes make the supreme sacrifice in doing their duty.
Ladies and Gentlemen, on this ninth anniversary of the attacks on World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the crash of Flight 93 we ask you to join us in a moment of silence in memory not only of the people lost in those tragedies, but for all those people who are defending our country and also protecting and serving us here at home: the military, the police, the firefighters and the emergency medical workers who are always there for us when we need them, and who sometimes make the supreme sacrifice in doing their duty.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
NEVER FORGET 9-11-01
NEVER FORGET has become a motto of the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon nine years ago.
Many things stick in our memory of that day: the brave words ‘Let’s Roll!’ in an airplane over the Pennsylvania countryside, the billows of smoke and ash surging through the narrow New York streets, the hole breaching our ideal of protection at the Pentagon, a mass of people walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to escape the aftermath, disbelief, horror and personal, private memories that will never fade.
We will Never Forget that day and the ones following. But let’s extend that motto to Never Forget those lost in the fighting initiated by the attacks on our country. Let’s Never Forget those lost at Pearl Harbor, D-Day, and for that matter in Hiroshima and Auschwitz; Vietnam, Korea and any and all the other times and places that people have paid the ultimate price in a conflict that someone started in the name of right and righteousness.
Let’s extend that to Never Forget the ones who rushed to help, who lost their lives trying to save others – as they do for you and you and you every time they answer a call for help every day in every part of our country.
Let’s extend that to Never Forget the civilians lost, the ones who are always the innocent victims of conflict, the ones who pay that same ultimate price only because they were there.
Because if enough of us Never Forget, maybe, just maybe, there will be enough of us to remember that maybe there’s another way, a better way, a way that doesn’t end in disbelief and horror.
And meanwhile, let’s Never Forget to honor all of those mentioned here, and do it every day in every way we can.
NEVER FORGET. 9-11-01
Many things stick in our memory of that day: the brave words ‘Let’s Roll!’ in an airplane over the Pennsylvania countryside, the billows of smoke and ash surging through the narrow New York streets, the hole breaching our ideal of protection at the Pentagon, a mass of people walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to escape the aftermath, disbelief, horror and personal, private memories that will never fade.
We will Never Forget that day and the ones following. But let’s extend that motto to Never Forget those lost in the fighting initiated by the attacks on our country. Let’s Never Forget those lost at Pearl Harbor, D-Day, and for that matter in Hiroshima and Auschwitz; Vietnam, Korea and any and all the other times and places that people have paid the ultimate price in a conflict that someone started in the name of right and righteousness.
Let’s extend that to Never Forget the ones who rushed to help, who lost their lives trying to save others – as they do for you and you and you every time they answer a call for help every day in every part of our country.
Let’s extend that to Never Forget the civilians lost, the ones who are always the innocent victims of conflict, the ones who pay that same ultimate price only because they were there.
Because if enough of us Never Forget, maybe, just maybe, there will be enough of us to remember that maybe there’s another way, a better way, a way that doesn’t end in disbelief and horror.
And meanwhile, let’s Never Forget to honor all of those mentioned here, and do it every day in every way we can.
NEVER FORGET. 9-11-01
Sunday, August 29, 2010
For all the rescued animals – and for the ones that could not be saved:
Where were you when the water was rising
Back 5 years ago
Where were you when the floods rushed in?
Were you in the yard,
In your house
Did you have a home that you never left
Did you find a roof to climb on?
Did you run, did you swim, did you hide
Climb a tree, crawl inside
A room or cupboard
Or scramble high on something
Above the rushing water?
Did you live?
Where were you when the water went down
Were your people gone
Were you all alone?
Where were you in the ruined city
Hungry, alone, afraid
Did someone take pity?
Were you on the streets
Were you chained and bound
On the streets alone
Were you lucky enough to be found?
Where are you now
Are you warm, dry and safe
Did your people find you
Did you find a new home to stay
Many miles away?
Is your new life good
Lots of love, lots of food
Do you miss anyone
From that life long ago?
We’ll never know.
We only know we love you now.
Back 5 years ago
Where were you when the floods rushed in?
Were you in the yard,
In your house
Did you have a home that you never left
Did you find a roof to climb on?
Did you run, did you swim, did you hide
Climb a tree, crawl inside
A room or cupboard
Or scramble high on something
Above the rushing water?
Did you live?
Where were you when the water went down
Were your people gone
Were you all alone?
Where were you in the ruined city
Hungry, alone, afraid
Did someone take pity?
Were you on the streets
Were you chained and bound
On the streets alone
Were you lucky enough to be found?
Where are you now
Are you warm, dry and safe
Did your people find you
Did you find a new home to stay
Many miles away?
Is your new life good
Lots of love, lots of food
Do you miss anyone
From that life long ago?
We’ll never know.
We only know we love you now.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
“The pond beckons….”
My cousin Kelli wrote that of Facebook this morning. It sure is a pond beckons kind of day shaping up, temps in the 90’s and muggy. I sure wish a pond could beckon me and I could answer it, but nope, work won’t let me heed the call.
The pond she refers to is at her father’s place, a wonderful location on a hill just above (literally) the farm where I grew up. It’s useable for swimming, and also works for a short rather circular boat ride and some fishing. It’s also a bit of sadness for me; when they dug the test holes to decide where the pond should be, one of my dogs fell into one and drowned.
But this is about ponds beckoning. Ponds, and creeks. We did have a pond on the farm, but it never amounted to much, it never got deep enough to swim in because very soon after it was made, the dam got a large hole that never did get repaired. It was shallow, we could wade in it, and my father took the guide boat out on it sometimes, guide boats being especially made to work in very shallow water – I was in it with him once and he was trying to see how shallow we could go, and we were in water only a couple of inches deep when he asked me ‘did you ever walk home from a boat ride?’ We didn’t have to, he rowed/poled until deeper water and we rowed back.
Our ‘swimming holes’ were in the creek, and I think that anyone who has never swum in a lazy country creek has lacked something in their life. There were two, ‘Raup’s’ and ‘Wagner’s’, named for the property owners where the lanes went down to the swimming hole. Wagner’s was more popular, because there were rocks to swim to and sit on and jump off of. Raup’s I think might have been a larger area, and deeper.
We’d work in the hayfield or doing other chores, and then either in the late afternoon, or early evening after the cows were milked, we’d all climb into the pick-up (usually there were a few cousins around to join in) and go swimming. Oh, that first jump into the water was so wonderful! Whether you grabbed the rope and swung out and launched yourself into the deep water, or ran in or waded and then let yourself sink down, it was the best feeling ever!
We’d have swimming races, or see who could stay under the longest, or who could dive to the bottom in the deeper places. Or we’d just swim to the rocks and lay on them in the sun – or push each other off, or sit on the bank and dare each other to try different stunts.
Once, after a day of hard rain storms, a neighbor took us down, but the creek was running so high and fast he wouldn’t let us go in. He did, and tried to swim against the current, he was a large, strong man, and he couldn’t go forward; that was a lesson in the power of water. And one night, my father and mother brought my sister and I down after dark and we all went skinny dipping. My sister and I giggled a lot.
A few times we rode the horses down there, and took them into the water. I think that old guy of mine tried to roll over in it once, if I recall correctly, with me on him, of course. And I think that was the same day that I stepped on a broken jar top and cut my foot quite deeply and badly. We tied a bandana around it and I kept on swimming, because why let a little thing like that stop the fun? I still have that scar.
I can still feel the water flowing around me and feel the sun. Swimming pools are fine, but they can’t match the feel of the pond or creek that beckons.
The pond she refers to is at her father’s place, a wonderful location on a hill just above (literally) the farm where I grew up. It’s useable for swimming, and also works for a short rather circular boat ride and some fishing. It’s also a bit of sadness for me; when they dug the test holes to decide where the pond should be, one of my dogs fell into one and drowned.
But this is about ponds beckoning. Ponds, and creeks. We did have a pond on the farm, but it never amounted to much, it never got deep enough to swim in because very soon after it was made, the dam got a large hole that never did get repaired. It was shallow, we could wade in it, and my father took the guide boat out on it sometimes, guide boats being especially made to work in very shallow water – I was in it with him once and he was trying to see how shallow we could go, and we were in water only a couple of inches deep when he asked me ‘did you ever walk home from a boat ride?’ We didn’t have to, he rowed/poled until deeper water and we rowed back.
Our ‘swimming holes’ were in the creek, and I think that anyone who has never swum in a lazy country creek has lacked something in their life. There were two, ‘Raup’s’ and ‘Wagner’s’, named for the property owners where the lanes went down to the swimming hole. Wagner’s was more popular, because there were rocks to swim to and sit on and jump off of. Raup’s I think might have been a larger area, and deeper.
We’d work in the hayfield or doing other chores, and then either in the late afternoon, or early evening after the cows were milked, we’d all climb into the pick-up (usually there were a few cousins around to join in) and go swimming. Oh, that first jump into the water was so wonderful! Whether you grabbed the rope and swung out and launched yourself into the deep water, or ran in or waded and then let yourself sink down, it was the best feeling ever!
We’d have swimming races, or see who could stay under the longest, or who could dive to the bottom in the deeper places. Or we’d just swim to the rocks and lay on them in the sun – or push each other off, or sit on the bank and dare each other to try different stunts.
Once, after a day of hard rain storms, a neighbor took us down, but the creek was running so high and fast he wouldn’t let us go in. He did, and tried to swim against the current, he was a large, strong man, and he couldn’t go forward; that was a lesson in the power of water. And one night, my father and mother brought my sister and I down after dark and we all went skinny dipping. My sister and I giggled a lot.
A few times we rode the horses down there, and took them into the water. I think that old guy of mine tried to roll over in it once, if I recall correctly, with me on him, of course. And I think that was the same day that I stepped on a broken jar top and cut my foot quite deeply and badly. We tied a bandana around it and I kept on swimming, because why let a little thing like that stop the fun? I still have that scar.
I can still feel the water flowing around me and feel the sun. Swimming pools are fine, but they can’t match the feel of the pond or creek that beckons.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
July 4 - Happy Birthday, America
July 4 – Happy Birthday America. There were fireworks at the end of the ‘FunDay’ on the fairgrounds, we can hardly see them from the back of the theatre any more, the trees have grown up so high, but some went out and watched anyway. They were quite noisy, and during moments in “The Secret Garden” that did not match the booming. The only time that worked was once when we were doing “1776” and the fireworks went off as they were tolling the bell for the men to come up and sign the document.
I hope that all take a moment from their play, cook-outs, swimming, or working (EMS, fire, police, and people like my friend Laurie, who is driving a load from Houston to Wisconsin) and give thought to the real reason for the day. Think about our ancestors, who defied their mother country and declared themselves a free and independent nation. Think about the courage, the daring to do that. But their forefathers had already made a daring giant step, to come here, to strike out blindly to a new land, and a new life. Things could be a lot different for us all if they all had not done that. So also when you think, say “Thanks” to them all for giving us what we have today.
Me, I’m off to work, too. Two shows and then changeover from “The Secret Garden”, which has been one beautiful show in which everything: the voices, the set, the children doing major roles, the leads, the ensemble, the costumes all clicked to create majestic magic. The people who did not come see it have missed a treasure.
But, we celebrate the Fourth. We have Patriotic Night in the coffee house on Friday and Saturday – almost everyone in the company joined in a medley of patriotic songs from “The Star Spangled Banner to God Bless America to Anchors Away to God Bless The USA”. Those same great voices singing those stirring songs was memorable, and as always I got a little snuffly. Everyone sang “The Star Spangled Banner”, on their feet (although not all put their hands over their hearts, I noticed but will not comment on). Makes me proud, makes me happy.
We will also have a cookout, between shows, a nice break.
And, since I have to dig out the grill and take it up to the theatre, I guess I better get to work.
Happy Fourth, everyone – enjoy it, but please take the moment to think and say thanks.
I hope that all take a moment from their play, cook-outs, swimming, or working (EMS, fire, police, and people like my friend Laurie, who is driving a load from Houston to Wisconsin) and give thought to the real reason for the day. Think about our ancestors, who defied their mother country and declared themselves a free and independent nation. Think about the courage, the daring to do that. But their forefathers had already made a daring giant step, to come here, to strike out blindly to a new land, and a new life. Things could be a lot different for us all if they all had not done that. So also when you think, say “Thanks” to them all for giving us what we have today.
Me, I’m off to work, too. Two shows and then changeover from “The Secret Garden”, which has been one beautiful show in which everything: the voices, the set, the children doing major roles, the leads, the ensemble, the costumes all clicked to create majestic magic. The people who did not come see it have missed a treasure.
But, we celebrate the Fourth. We have Patriotic Night in the coffee house on Friday and Saturday – almost everyone in the company joined in a medley of patriotic songs from “The Star Spangled Banner to God Bless America to Anchors Away to God Bless The USA”. Those same great voices singing those stirring songs was memorable, and as always I got a little snuffly. Everyone sang “The Star Spangled Banner”, on their feet (although not all put their hands over their hearts, I noticed but will not comment on). Makes me proud, makes me happy.
We will also have a cookout, between shows, a nice break.
And, since I have to dig out the grill and take it up to the theatre, I guess I better get to work.
Happy Fourth, everyone – enjoy it, but please take the moment to think and say thanks.
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