It sounds horribly like a familiar joke.
Sadly, it wasn't funny. At least we weren't laughing.
My van's driver's side rear tire was flat a few days ago. Seeing no visible reason for the airless condition such as a slash, a cut, a nicked up spot, a nail or some other random sharp object protruding from the tire, I naively assumed it simply needed air.
Fifty cents later (and right now that is a considerable investment!), the tires were all inflated to regulation specs including the spare tire on the back of the van.
That was Friday.
Today, same tire... same soggy sides and airless rubber slump on the driveway.
Did I mention my spare tire is ALSO flat... flat... flat as a dead rat on the highway.
The queen is most decidedly NOT amused.
Hearing my whiny pitiful GEICO lizard cry about the flat tire, Rick got out the air compressor and filled me up enough to limp down to Wal-mart for tire repair.
Several HOURS and $20 bucks later, I am back home with all five of the tires in good shape. Now, lets all hope that pious hope that keeps us feeling secure in the knowledge that the tires will not go flat again!!
I can get behind the fact that tires go flat. What irks me about this entire little episode of shame is that the spare... the SPARE tire... was only good for decoration.
I'm sure my van really needs the decoration. It's beginning to not be good for much else but yard art.
I am, however, reasonably sure that my neighborhood is not sufficiently avant-guarde to appreciate the beauty and splendor brought on by one 1994 rusting, downtrodden, creakily old van, not even if I put a peeing boy fountain on it as a hood ornament.
Sad to say, we have been bypassed time and again for the riches of the Publisher's Clearinghouse and Reader's Digest prize money that they swear to high heaven you don't have to buy anything, give up your firstborn, or sell your soul to the devil to obtain. If that was the case, we should have won all of their money by now.
Fortunately, Beth decided to take pity on me and my plight and came down to Wal-mart to keep me company wandering up and down the aisles of the store. It kept me sane and possibly kept me awake since Jared determined that sleep last night was for OTHER people besides me.
So, I'm about to eat some soup and drink some vegetable juice and hope that there are no other unhappy surprises lurking around today.
God bless and remember that a spare tire only means you have a big, black, rubber donut in your trunk or mounted on your vehicle. It is in no way a guarantee, a warranty or a promise that it will be there to help you in your time of need.
By the way, does anyone know that a flat spare tire can laugh? They do... I am fairly certain of it because I heard my laughing at me today.
January 28, 2013
January 24, 2013
Free Stuff
I am a big fan of free stuff.
Free event tickets, free t-shirts, free toothpaste, free deodorant, free free free.
I live under the premise that something you have received in the mail for free is a good thing. If you don't like whatever it is, the size is SO small you don't feel all that bad about tossing it. And if you discover something that came for free was actually worth buying, you haven't spent money to make that happy discovery.
There are some free things that I am not a fan of.
Free advice from people who are completely clueless. These are the benevolent souls who, for instance, have no disabled children, but who feel completely free to give advice on how to care for our disabled son's needs. Yeah, y'all feel free to show up at 5:15 a.m. and we will feel free to give you a day in the life... or twelve.
I am not a big fan of free attitude. You know the people. Everyone has encountered them, the people who exude waves of disapproval over your choices. It's like you suddenly became a permanent resident of "The People of Wal-mart" website and they are here to critique what got you listed as such. They are free to go butt a stump. (Momma used to say that - I suspect she would have liked to have been free to say something more harsh, but Momma was always a lady in all circumstances)
I am not a fan of free poop on my windshield from birds who obviously are laughing at my predicament when my temperamental van's wipers work whenever and however THEY choose. Well played, evil birds, well played.
Other free stuff would be great. Being declared the winner of the Reader's Digest sweepstakes and their free money would be exciting. I'm not holding my breath.
Have a free day. You have my permission.
Free event tickets, free t-shirts, free toothpaste, free deodorant, free free free.
I live under the premise that something you have received in the mail for free is a good thing. If you don't like whatever it is, the size is SO small you don't feel all that bad about tossing it. And if you discover something that came for free was actually worth buying, you haven't spent money to make that happy discovery.
There are some free things that I am not a fan of.
Free advice from people who are completely clueless. These are the benevolent souls who, for instance, have no disabled children, but who feel completely free to give advice on how to care for our disabled son's needs. Yeah, y'all feel free to show up at 5:15 a.m. and we will feel free to give you a day in the life... or twelve.
I am not a big fan of free attitude. You know the people. Everyone has encountered them, the people who exude waves of disapproval over your choices. It's like you suddenly became a permanent resident of "The People of Wal-mart" website and they are here to critique what got you listed as such. They are free to go butt a stump. (Momma used to say that - I suspect she would have liked to have been free to say something more harsh, but Momma was always a lady in all circumstances)
I am not a fan of free poop on my windshield from birds who obviously are laughing at my predicament when my temperamental van's wipers work whenever and however THEY choose. Well played, evil birds, well played.
Other free stuff would be great. Being declared the winner of the Reader's Digest sweepstakes and their free money would be exciting. I'm not holding my breath.
Have a free day. You have my permission.
January 13, 2013
Perspectives
About 35 years ago, I was taking a painting class in high school.
The assignment was to paint using our oils and create a perspective that we felt needed expression. I remain as confused lo, these many years later, as I was that day.
To be sure, the actual painting of the project took more than a single day. It took several weeks for me to complete my vision, my view, my perspective.
Other more gifted artists in the room were a pleasure to watch. Their delicate and deft handling of the essential tools of painting helped them create canvasses of imagery that had most assuredly met the criteria of "perspective".
Comparison and contrast are part of classifying art. So I would compare my style to theirs (absent) and contrast my chosen subject to theirs (disaster) and realize that my life as an artist was destined to end at the close of the semester.
Though I passed the class and moved on to other attempts at creating art, I never forgot what our teacher, Mrs. Cox, told us one day.
"Your perspective is just like your fingerprint. No one has it but you."
I've found that to be true. We are individuals who sometimes come together for various purposes and to share our lives with one another but our perspective - our way of seeing the world - is truly an emotional fingerprint unique to us as individuals.
We can all look at the exact same thing. And under carefully constructed laboratory conditions, be granted the exact same spot and placement from which to view it. But our perspective - our personal take on the thing we see - will never be the exact same thing. Which is why it is imperative that we never tell someone that what they see doesn't matter, isn't good enough and is out of sync.
Children often paint wildly imaginative portraits of life as they see it. Slapdash appraisal of their work belittles their personal viewpoint and marginalizes their creativity. We can't appreciate their viewpoint if all we see is our own.
Maybe to them, in their finite understanding of the world, Mommy does indeed have 6 arms because to them the idea that she can tie a shoe, make sack lunches, talk on the phone, pour milk, zip a jacket and give a quick smooth down to someone's hair seems like they can't possibly be done all at one time. So Mommy MUST have 6 arms and that's how they draw it.
In our lives, we are blessed to have our personal perspective altered when someone shares a truth with us. The way we know it to be a truth is that it becomes an "aha!" moment that opens our eyes to a broader world and grants us a miracle of sight that we had been blind to only seconds before. That is a shift in perspective that tilts the axis of our own little world just a degree or two.
Most of the time, that shift or tilt is a good thing. Sometimes, it is a danger. Learning one from the other is a lifelong pursuit.
Some of those "aha!" moments are not meant to become our personal world view or our stated perspective. They are meant only as a doorway to understanding another human soul. We cannot possibly adopt every perspective and make them our own. To do so, I believe, would rend our own soul and shatter our psyche.
We must choose.
What scenes before our eyes are sometimes very individual. They are meant to be. Having a personal perspective and a view of this mortal experience is essential to our ability to gain traction and progress. We can't be all things to all people and still be an individual who is separate and distinct from all others. To attempt that creates a wishy-washy sort of image of a person with no real substance. It is as unsatisfying as eating a piece of wax fruit. Though it looks good from one perspective, from another it is a mouthful of nastiness that takes a long time from which to cleanse the palate and restore normalcy.
We grow and our perspective may change as we learn. Or we may cling to our perspective as surely as a frightened child holds to their treasured doll or teddy bear. Either way, we have a chosen perspective.
The important thing to remember is that in either case, there is both some beauty and truth to what is seen. We don't all grow and progress at the same rate. We weren't meant to, either. To make life a simple exercise in conformity is a waste of this mortal experience.
That's the reason I kept my paintings from high school. They are in a box of framed photos, artwork and other assorted keepsakes. I pull them out from time to time and look upon them as a gauge of my perspective.
One time, I was showing them to someone and felt quasi embarrassed at their quality. Now, I have come to realize it doesn't matter what someone else sees or what their perspective is regarding my skill set as an artist, the chosen material or subject or even my technique. They can choose to appreciate or denigrate all they see. But my perspective on what I created really doesn't have to change when I see it for what it really is.
The truth is that those paintings, amateurish as they may appear to the untrained eye, are really a self-portrait of my perspective as a skinny, eager, and wide-eyed youth from high school who was just trying to find my place in the world using the only tools at my disposal - my own perspective on what I was seeing, not only from outside in the greater world, but from within.
Perspective.
It's about what we see and also about what we don't.
The assignment was to paint using our oils and create a perspective that we felt needed expression. I remain as confused lo, these many years later, as I was that day.
To be sure, the actual painting of the project took more than a single day. It took several weeks for me to complete my vision, my view, my perspective.
Other more gifted artists in the room were a pleasure to watch. Their delicate and deft handling of the essential tools of painting helped them create canvasses of imagery that had most assuredly met the criteria of "perspective".
Comparison and contrast are part of classifying art. So I would compare my style to theirs (absent) and contrast my chosen subject to theirs (disaster) and realize that my life as an artist was destined to end at the close of the semester.
Though I passed the class and moved on to other attempts at creating art, I never forgot what our teacher, Mrs. Cox, told us one day.
"Your perspective is just like your fingerprint. No one has it but you."
I've found that to be true. We are individuals who sometimes come together for various purposes and to share our lives with one another but our perspective - our way of seeing the world - is truly an emotional fingerprint unique to us as individuals.
We can all look at the exact same thing. And under carefully constructed laboratory conditions, be granted the exact same spot and placement from which to view it. But our perspective - our personal take on the thing we see - will never be the exact same thing. Which is why it is imperative that we never tell someone that what they see doesn't matter, isn't good enough and is out of sync.
Children often paint wildly imaginative portraits of life as they see it. Slapdash appraisal of their work belittles their personal viewpoint and marginalizes their creativity. We can't appreciate their viewpoint if all we see is our own.
Maybe to them, in their finite understanding of the world, Mommy does indeed have 6 arms because to them the idea that she can tie a shoe, make sack lunches, talk on the phone, pour milk, zip a jacket and give a quick smooth down to someone's hair seems like they can't possibly be done all at one time. So Mommy MUST have 6 arms and that's how they draw it.
In our lives, we are blessed to have our personal perspective altered when someone shares a truth with us. The way we know it to be a truth is that it becomes an "aha!" moment that opens our eyes to a broader world and grants us a miracle of sight that we had been blind to only seconds before. That is a shift in perspective that tilts the axis of our own little world just a degree or two.
Most of the time, that shift or tilt is a good thing. Sometimes, it is a danger. Learning one from the other is a lifelong pursuit.
Some of those "aha!" moments are not meant to become our personal world view or our stated perspective. They are meant only as a doorway to understanding another human soul. We cannot possibly adopt every perspective and make them our own. To do so, I believe, would rend our own soul and shatter our psyche.
We must choose.
What scenes before our eyes are sometimes very individual. They are meant to be. Having a personal perspective and a view of this mortal experience is essential to our ability to gain traction and progress. We can't be all things to all people and still be an individual who is separate and distinct from all others. To attempt that creates a wishy-washy sort of image of a person with no real substance. It is as unsatisfying as eating a piece of wax fruit. Though it looks good from one perspective, from another it is a mouthful of nastiness that takes a long time from which to cleanse the palate and restore normalcy.
We grow and our perspective may change as we learn. Or we may cling to our perspective as surely as a frightened child holds to their treasured doll or teddy bear. Either way, we have a chosen perspective.
The important thing to remember is that in either case, there is both some beauty and truth to what is seen. We don't all grow and progress at the same rate. We weren't meant to, either. To make life a simple exercise in conformity is a waste of this mortal experience.
That's the reason I kept my paintings from high school. They are in a box of framed photos, artwork and other assorted keepsakes. I pull them out from time to time and look upon them as a gauge of my perspective.
One time, I was showing them to someone and felt quasi embarrassed at their quality. Now, I have come to realize it doesn't matter what someone else sees or what their perspective is regarding my skill set as an artist, the chosen material or subject or even my technique. They can choose to appreciate or denigrate all they see. But my perspective on what I created really doesn't have to change when I see it for what it really is.
The truth is that those paintings, amateurish as they may appear to the untrained eye, are really a self-portrait of my perspective as a skinny, eager, and wide-eyed youth from high school who was just trying to find my place in the world using the only tools at my disposal - my own perspective on what I was seeing, not only from outside in the greater world, but from within.
Perspective.
It's about what we see and also about what we don't.
January 10, 2013
How Sweet It Is!
Back to back. Champions once again!!
BAMA WINS 42 - 14 over Notre Dame and seizes the crystal football to be the 2012 National Champions!!
After some of the atrocious comments and horrible T-shirt slogans being bandied about, Bama sent the leprechauns home in tears wondering where their magic went. I'm sure that the Fighting Irish didn't think they would be reduced to whimpering pups by the end of the game. Frankly, I'm sure they didn't think they would be in desperate straights by the end of the first quarter of play.
Alabama was just firing on all cylinders in a truly complete game. It was a sight to behold... again and again and again...
Although I know what it feels like to put all your heart and soul on the line for a game, I also know what it is like to lose a game that means a lot to you and ride the bus home feeling sad that your chosen team was demoralized and defeated.
They had a good year and went undefeated in the regular season. But National Champions are not crowned in a regular season game. Nope. They are crowned in a game where everything from the whole season is shoved out onto the line like a desperate Vegas gambler betting it all on the chance to win the crystal football. Many try to get to that game, but only two teams from the ENTIRE D-1 make it.
Whining and crying won't get it done, son. You either have the wheels to make it, or not.
Bama, for one night, had the complete package, and the Irish were sent packing, lock, stock, leprechaun and barrel. They had NO answers and Bama prevailed.
It wasn't even close. Bama could have jammed more points on the board. They were, however, reminded that the second and third string players needed some game time for the experience it could provide them.
In the end, it didn't matter which squad was out there for Bama. The Million Dollar Band's groupies just might have scored on a lackluster Irish defense that seems to have just given up after the first half. That is NOT a slam to the band or their groupies, just an acknowledgement that for this one night, it all seemed to be rolling Bama's way. If you were clad in crimson and white, you might snatch a bit of the glory. It's good to be for the Crimson Tide tonight!
Some players will leave for the NFL. Some will hang in for one last season and the opportunity at more glory and the brass ring that is actually shiny gold. Regardless of the joy we feel in the Bama Nation right now, we must temper it with the reality that next season's team will NOT be this one. Not by any stretch.
We can't rest on our laurels. We can't expect success without work. Nick Saban said it best. This year's team owes nothing to next and next year's team cannot hope for any help from this year's run. They will begin their season 0 - 0.
Who knows what another season brings. Win, lose or draw, as Bear Bryant said "It's just a danged ol' football game!" But oh, how we love to win.
And win they did for the VERY FIRST TIME against Notre Dame.
Bama 42 - Notre Dame 14.
ROLL TIDE.
BAMA WINS 42 - 14 over Notre Dame and seizes the crystal football to be the 2012 National Champions!!
Alabama was just firing on all cylinders in a truly complete game. It was a sight to behold... again and again and again...
Although I know what it feels like to put all your heart and soul on the line for a game, I also know what it is like to lose a game that means a lot to you and ride the bus home feeling sad that your chosen team was demoralized and defeated.
They had a good year and went undefeated in the regular season. But National Champions are not crowned in a regular season game. Nope. They are crowned in a game where everything from the whole season is shoved out onto the line like a desperate Vegas gambler betting it all on the chance to win the crystal football. Many try to get to that game, but only two teams from the ENTIRE D-1 make it.
Whining and crying won't get it done, son. You either have the wheels to make it, or not.
Bama, for one night, had the complete package, and the Irish were sent packing, lock, stock, leprechaun and barrel. They had NO answers and Bama prevailed.
It wasn't even close. Bama could have jammed more points on the board. They were, however, reminded that the second and third string players needed some game time for the experience it could provide them.
In the end, it didn't matter which squad was out there for Bama. The Million Dollar Band's groupies just might have scored on a lackluster Irish defense that seems to have just given up after the first half. That is NOT a slam to the band or their groupies, just an acknowledgement that for this one night, it all seemed to be rolling Bama's way. If you were clad in crimson and white, you might snatch a bit of the glory. It's good to be for the Crimson Tide tonight!
Some players will leave for the NFL. Some will hang in for one last season and the opportunity at more glory and the brass ring that is actually shiny gold. Regardless of the joy we feel in the Bama Nation right now, we must temper it with the reality that next season's team will NOT be this one. Not by any stretch.
We can't rest on our laurels. We can't expect success without work. Nick Saban said it best. This year's team owes nothing to next and next year's team cannot hope for any help from this year's run. They will begin their season 0 - 0.
Who knows what another season brings. Win, lose or draw, as Bear Bryant said "It's just a danged ol' football game!" But oh, how we love to win.
And win they did for the VERY FIRST TIME against Notre Dame.
Bama 42 - Notre Dame 14.
ROLL TIDE.
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