Delivery

I promised a post on my hope for the future generations, and now I must deliver. One thing I can honestly say, among even the very most compromised parents, I have never met a mother or father who I didn't truly believe loved their child. So, I do have faith that people I don't personally think should have children, will have children, and they will love their children, in whatever way they do.

On the bright side, I see young parents like my sister in law, Jennifer and my niece Dawn, whose children have every benefit emotionally, experientially (apparently I just made up that word), educationally, and materially. As I sat through a workshop on helping self-destructive adolescents Friday, I could not help but think of the relatively few problems my own children and I encountered as they graced through the teen years.

Here are some ways I think this generation (I think they are called the Millenials) are really smart, and hip, and cool.  They take much harder classes in high school; in my day there was no AP, Honors or Dual Credit classes. Many high school students now graduate with a semester or more of college credit and way higher level course work under their belt, thus preparing them to presumably advance further in their college years.

Let's talk about risks. Today's youth have much more education, awareness and common sense about the risks of drinking and driving, smoking and drugs. Many kids now have parent supervised parties, or at least "parent at home" parties, whereas, my generation was always looking for the empty house to have a party, if you know what I mean. I honestly believe kids today are much more likely to wear seat belts, designate a driver if there is going to be drinking, and keep in touch with their parents by text as to their plans and whereabouts.  This seems really smart to me.

Diversity is much more taken in stride today than 20 or 30 years ago.  Kids don't balk, act surprised or flinch when they are in the company of others who have disabilities, differences in sexual orientation, and certainly not racial and ethnic differences.  They have grown up not only tolerating diversity, but embracing it.  In my school, there were posters put up by the Gay Straight Alliance about marriage equality and bullying, and none of them were defaced or taken down. There are kids in wheelchairs, kids having behavioral meltdowns in the hallways, two girls or boys holding hands, and no one gives it a second look.  That's just cool if you ask me.

It goes without saying that kids today are way ahead of us in the technological and digital world.  They can figure out problems with electronics without ever thinking of looking for instructions or as we used to say, "reading the directions."  They can make movies and edit sound and play music and create art in ways that blow my generation out of the water. They are funny, too.  They make old words new again; they're constantly inventing new vocabulary. Scrape, swag, bromance and they be like you just got treated. 
They're so hip.

So, if anyone starts complaining about the next generation, you will now have some ammunition. They are just as smart, hip and cool as your generation and maybe more so. Until next time, YOLO!!!!!!!!

Generational Angst

Is it every generation's job/fate to worry about the next generation’s ability to successfully carry on the world's business?  Or is it that I work with the most dis-ordered children and families day after day? Or perhaps, am I just getting old and cranky?

Because I am seriously worried.

Parents in the 1940's worried that radio and television would be the downfall of society. Parents in the 50's worried about Rock and Roll.  Parents in the 60's worried about long hair, drugs and bra burning feminists.  My parent's generation worried about the Animal House parties and drug overdoses.  Parents in the 80’s worried about anorexia and HIV. 

I worry that today’s kids can’t two shoot baskets at the Y without looking at their phone. The young ones lie on the floor playing games on their devices for more time than they play actively. For Cripe’s Sake, they have to have radio commercials telling them to “Go Outside and Play” an hour a day.  The overweight are now the majority in the elementary schools.

Most interaction now occurs through texting and social media. Does this generation even know how to communicate face to face? And don’t get me started on their writing or ability to speak without saying “like” every other word. 

Conflict resolution?  Huh, what’s that?  They say unthinkable things on Facebook and resort to profane rants, fists and violence when confrontation does occur.  I’ve noticed an increase in sports related fights and a decrease in true sportsmanship being displayed at the high school up to the professional level.  Self abuse (cutting and suicide attempts) is the go-to way to lessen one’s personal pain. How does that make any sense?

What is going to happen to this generation of Baby Mama, Baby Daddy, good-bye nuclear family?  Even the middle class is moving away from marriage all together and those who do are divorcing at an extraordinary rate. 

Granted, my exposure to youth is heavily weighted to the most troubled and emotionally disturbed young people, who have been exposed to unbelievable trauma and dysfunctional environments.  Their lives revolve around DCFS, foster care, jail, prison, court, probation. Their coping skills are nil and their role models weak or non-existent. Many kids today don’t know who or where their biological parents are.  

And yes, I am getting old. Each day I am greeted with new gray hairs, puffier eyes than the day before, hands that could pass for a great grandmother, and a cranky attitude to match.  I hang up my clothes after wearing them for a day. I have put Kleenex up my sleeve when I’ve been too lazy to go to the trash basket. The age spots and cellulite do not go away no matter how much I pay for skin products or how much I work out.  I have gone 2-3 days (4 once even !) without washing my hair, because it “feels like it’s drying out.”  That’s when I catch that old people smell on myself.  So yes, I have definitely crossed over into the physical and mental make-up of an old person.

Whether I am in the wrong profession, moving into the wrong mindset with age, or simply carrying out my fate, I definitely have concerns.  I struggle with these issues on a daily basis.  Still, there are days when my faith is restored, and you can look forward to that in my next blog. I have not gone completely to the dark side. Maybe I just need a vacation.

Parenting the Young Adult

When I was a young adult, I could always count on my parents to be there when I had a question or problem: how do you hard boil an egg? how do you change a flat tire? what is an escrow account? how do you get wine out of the carpet? how much should I contribute to my 401k? what should I do, Adam ate a tube of lipstick? My dad was there when I bought my first car and my mom mentored me in preparing my first Thanksgiving turkey.

Now it's my turn to help my boys successfully transition to adulthood, now known as "launching."  It's a fine line to tread of being proactive, also known as lecturing and letting them learn from their mistakes.

Recently, Eli decided to cancel his overdraft protection at the bank because they were charging $60 a pop. His contention was that now the bank wouldn't  allow any purchases when he didn't have money in his account. I tried to explain that this wasn't going to prevent him from overdrawing his account, and someone could still come after him with fees, it just might be CVS or Outback.  The lecture went on for some time, on the importance of tracking all expenditures to ensure this doesn't happen.  Of course, with his generation they don't write checks, so the likelihood of overdraft is reduced but as I explained there are still some small businesses that don't process their debits immediately, which could put him in the position of overdrawing his account if he is not careful.

I have been providing Eli with recipes and cooking lessons in preparation for cooking in his apartment this year, only to hear that he cooks Hamburger Helper, ramen noodles and rice and vegetables exclusively.  I don't know why it drives me crazy that he and his roommates have a pet turtle, am I worried it might die over Winter break because they failed to get someone to look after it?  And it was all I could do when visiting not to bag up the overflowing garbage can and carry it to the dumpster.

Pat and I did win one war with Eli in December when he casually decided to leave Macomb to go back to Normal in a blizzard, or as close as we come to a blizzard in these parts. He had a commitment to play trumpet at graduation the next morning and it didn't help my fury that he came home the day before to see the midnight showing of "The Hobbitt" and that he waited all day when the weather was fine, to leave at dark just as the storm hit. I do remember a few harrowing drives back to Drake in white out conditions which probably gave me the resolve to put my foot down regardless of the consequences with his music professors. Actually, the truth is I had to get Pat to back me up and resolutely bar him from leaving. He moped around all night, but was over it in 24 hours.

Why is this focusing so much on Eli? Adam rarely asked a question or let his guard down enough to show vulnerability or a need to communicate.  Cal is still home and not spreading his wings too much yet. So, it falls to Eli to be the guinea pig of our loosening parental influence.  I think he will be all right, especially if I can learn to let go and allow him to learn from own his mistakes.

Minivans

My parents are test driving a 2012 Toyota Sienna van.  They were positively beaming when they pulled up to show us.  Thrilled with the trade in offer on their banged up DodgehatefulkeyedCaravan.  Dad just turned 82 and has been pretty home bound;  Macomb bound at least (unless dinner is involved).  I was commenting on the new car smell and how once you drive, you gotta buy.  He said, "I'm just so happy. I haven't been this happy in a long time."  So it's a pretty much done deal, and I'm happy for them.

I am off to finish the disappointing Swedish 'thriller' "The Andalucian Friend."  It is NO dragoon tattoo, let me tell you. Not sure how I even got to page 400.  Bit by bit, as there are way too many characters (undesirables), it's confusing, and just plain boring.  Entertainment Weekly really got this one Wrong.

Day

Yesterday was a really nice day. We had a little down time with the boys and Cal was so funny.  He was singing out random songs generally acting goofy. That's kind of what happens when a sports season ends. He played his last Legion baseball game Friday, and he will never play in Macomb again at the high school field.  He can't wait to get out of Macomb and on our little getaway to Western NY next week.

Then Marissa came over and it always takes awhile to get our groove on, but eventually we did after she was 'bored' with the board game I bought at a yard sale. She was a little lukewarm on the picture treasure hunt I made her, and didn't especially like the sunglasses I picked out for her. She liked yellow but I liked pink on her.  I filled up water balloons, as I did last time we were together and they were busting as soon as we carefully set them on the spikey, hard grass.  We played Sorry, had dinner and sang a few Karaoke songs.  She prefers crap, dare I say, from something called "Victorious," a Nickolodean show and Selena Gomez??  I prefer Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum, even Lady Gaga to that.

That evening I spent with some girlfriends who always crack me up.  We played some Loaded Questions and I have the ability to fake people out.  Apparently, my inner self doesn't exactly match my outer self, and the game brings that up quite well.  I like a shock factor, too. I was out late (11:00) and slept great in clean sheets.  

Eli's

Note to Dad (Richard): the following is NOT for publication in the Family News.

I have to tell one on Eli now.  He asked to go grocery shopping with me this week, so he could "learn from the sensei." He's getting his own apartment next year and that means supplying the food for himself.  I guess I forgot how much I hate shopping with others, especially for groceries.  So, off we went Friday morning.  As soon as we got in the store, I was feeling very testy, for whatever reason.  A lady who was ordering too much pastrami was really pissing me off, and then she and her daughter were clogging up every aisle I went down with their bodies and shopping cart.  I tried to skip an aisle to get ahead of her, but she kept getting in my way.  Finally, the following exchange came:
Eli: How can you live like this?
Me: You mean all cranky and bitchy?
Eli: Yeah, and you let some random person ruin your shopping experience.

I guess all Eli learned from the sensei was never to go shopping with the Sensei.

Sons

I just wanted to say this: I haven't talked to Adam in a couple of weeks.  But it was so nice, I saw him four times in less than two months.  He came home for Mother's Day which was really sweet.  He didn't get to the mall (his lament) before he came, so when I went down to Springfield to see him over Memorial Day, he took me to the mall to get supplied with tea from Teavana, the elegant tea store.  Then he took me out to eat at the Chesapeake (very nice restaurant) and insisted on paying.  We were supposed to grill out, but the weather was pretty ugly.  June 11 he came home for his birthday, and he also made an appearance July 1-2 when Betsy and Chris were here.  Don't think we have had this much visits in- ever.  While none of my kids are particularly a-ttached, Adam is the most detached so it has made me happy to have this contact with him.

Okay, so Cal cracked me up yesterday.  He was hanging around and took an unposed picture of me.  See below.  He goes, "This isn't bad.  Look at your luscious hair!"

And Happy 82nd Birthday to my dear Dad.  

And the Mountains Echoed

I had kind of an epiphany while reading Khaled Hosseini's new book (title above).  Hosseini writes about Afghan relationships and culture, most famously in The Kite Runner.  This new novel is spread all over time and the world but all ties back to Afghanistan.

One son has grown up in Greece and left as soon and as far away as he could get.  As a doctor, he ended up helping in war torn Kabul in the present time.  The longer he is away from Greece and his mother, the harder it is to go back, and he avoids it for many years.  When he finally goes back, he is shocked to learn his mother is proud of him and what he has done in the world.

A daughter born in San Francisco to Afghan parents grows up and is unable to leave home. As an only child, she feels she must see her mother threw her death of cancer as she was about to leave for college. She is then tied to her lonely father, who has dementia.  He lost all his family in Afghanistan and came to the United States to start a restaurant and a new life.  By the time the girl finds her father's sister, who was separated from the family at age four, he know longer has his mind to know who she is.

This made me think about how we don't or shouldn't own our children.  Our best job is get them ready to go out into the world and be themselves.  While staying home and caring for family is usually seen as an admirable thing, this novel kind of turned that idea on its head.  I'm not sure that was Hosseini's intention but that is what I took from it.  We are all responsible for the direction of our lives and there shouldn't be any guilt about living it the way we choose.

5 Weeks

I noticed that the next 2.5 weeks are going to be my slowest time of the summer.  I have a lot to accomplish on my home study class on ADHD.  It seems much easier than the one I took from the same company on poverty. I poured my heart and soul into that class.  This one I am pretty much breezing through.

There are a few baseball games left. One more band concert. The garden is starting to produce a little fruit.  I am cooking a few good meals. I am trying to stay active.  Actually, I am waiting on a book to come in from the library (Alexander Soderberg).  I have already read several good ones this summer. We are thinking of watching a new show called "The Bridge." It is based on a Danish program, and since we like "The Killing" so much, and it is based on a Danish show, hoping it is as good, or nearly, because nothing could be as good as The Killing. I am working on mind control (my own), as in not letting myself get worked up about minor but annoying issues that come up.  It takes positive self talk, practice of  yoga or meditation, distraction, activity, and affirmations.  Makes me think maybe one day I will return to mental health counseling possibly starting a private practice for therapy and spiritual growth.

And 5 Weeks refers to how much time is left before I go back to work.

Summmer

We have been having a great week with my family. A LOT of laughs, hopefully no one's feelings got hurt.

One highlight was touring the Horn Field Campus with Eli where he and Cal work.  I have to say the high ropes were much higher than I remember climbing at a similar facility back when I was 28 or 29.  It was a huge challenge then, but I think it would be close to impossible now.  Thanks, family for dropping me on the Spider Web challenge ("low" as in 12 inches "rope"), bending my back awkwardly backwards and bruise/cutting my knee.  Great teamwork.  Later, we managed the "Whale Watch" challenge where five of use balanced on a teetering platform.  I think we were the worst group Eli has ever had...

Yesterday we attempted to rent boats on TWO nearby lakes. Now it's confirmed why the area is not known for it's recreational facilities. Both closed to boat rentals on Monday-Tuesday and Monday-Friday respectively.  And I thought it was summer vacation season! Ha.  We resorted to blowing grass through our thumbs for what seemed like hours, trying to get a bald eagle to swoop closer.  Later Chris broke Mom and Dad's TV trying to plug his phone into the USB port to play a video of this activity.

Everyone is sleeping now, at peace.  I went to bed early last night after several late nights in a row, playing games and talking.

Uncle Cal

Uncle Cal was well known for being a kid at heart, eating his dessert first, and the hilarious one liners he could still throw out up until the end.  The part of “Callie” as we first knew him, and which we later learned he hated, that has been bouncing around in my head, is what a fine and fierce protector he was.  Two incidents come to mind, the first when I was about four years old and was knocked down by a jealous Laddie, the Farm’s resident collie.  This dog was terrifyingly scratching or biting my face, but Uncle Cal was right there and got the dog off me quickly.  He even offered to shoot it (which did not happen), if I remember correctly.  In fact, I’m not sure I actually remember any of this, it could be just the retelling I remember, but I still have a trauma reaction when a dog comes at me barking.

The second was when Betsy fell off a horse and broke her arm at about age 10.  This I do remember. As soon as she was thrown, I can see Uncle Cal running down the country road in his requisite coveralls, and into the ditch to retrieve her.  I can still feel his anger at any person or animal that would hurt one of his family.  Since he didn't have any children of his own, and my mom was his only niece, we were his adopted grandchildren.

Uncle Cal taking a swing at ping pong, 2009, age 84.

Two years later, 2011.

Summer

May 29th and summer seemed to stretch out forever. It's already been a week, and it's slipping away. I always have this idea that if I write, it slows down time. If reading other people's journal is boring, you can just stop now.  So my break is May 29-August 11.  I have a few plans, it won't be all wasted.  But it will go too fast.  I know this.

Here are a few things I have up my sleeve:

1.  Taking a graduate class on AD/HD via distance learning, should take about 40-45 hours.

2.  Participating in School Crisis Assistance Team training in person (about 40 hours including the commute).

3.  Driving my mom to North Dakota for Uncle Cal's Memorial Service: June 13- 18.

4.  Entertaining brother, sister and their families June 28-July 6.

5.  Watching Cal play Legion baseball.

6.  Preparing some lessons for junior high boys with behavior disorders group.

7.  Traveling to Buffalo to join Pat's 9 siblings to celebrate Ellen's 80th birthday, July 25-30.

8. Spending time with Little Sister; we will celebrate our 2 year anniversary in July.

9.  Reading, read some more, make picture boards for Cal's service, clean up around the house.

10. Volunteering at Loaves and Fishes monthly.

11.  Taking yoga class and 'walking for wellness', riding bike, walking for the heck of it (I have two weekly walking dates), lifting my wimpy weights, cardio, etc.

I just have to remember not to complain.  What's there to complain about,  you say?  Well, there's summer guilt, kind of like survivors guilt where I feel like I should be working like everyone else, and I let it crawl into my head. I only feel worthy on weekends, when it's okay to not be working.  Sometimes I feel a little lonely when the house is empty because everyone is at work. And, yes, sometimes I get irritable about things like cooking, shopping, cleaning up, and the thought that 'summers off' means house servancy.

Oh, it will be glorious. I really do love my new schedule. I worked hard for it, so why not enjoy it?

Classic new use for a Turkey Baster

Today I discovered my mom's mini frig got unplugged and was all stinky and beginning to mold up.  I offered to clean it, but on one condition, I do it my way.  I knew she would have a procedure I was not prepared to follow, but I had no idea how strange this one would be.

So she says to me, she says, "Okay, but what I do is take a turkey baster and suck out the water from the collection tray below the freezer and shoot that into a bottle and use it for my ironing because it is perfectly distilled water."  So I says to her I says, "Are you kidding me??!!  I'll buy you a bottle of distilled water."  All I can imagine is some stinky, stagnant water that's been sitting there a week and then it being sprayed on clean clothes.  I start singing "My Way" by Frank Sinatra and nobody wants hear that. In a testament to her growing flexibility or intolerance of my horrible singing, she says, "Okay, I may hold you to that, but go ahead and do it your way."  She really didn't want to clean out the frig...  So I'm imagining soaking up the water with a sponge or cloth, but of course, there are no sponges in the house, only a stack of rags.  When I open the door and check the tray, darn if it isn't up to the brim. Too full to accommodate a t-shirt rag.

I yell up the stairs, "Mom, where's the turkey baster?"  and I suck the water out with the turkey baster.  It's actually pretty clean and not smelly.  I would have transferred it to the bottle if I wasn't too lazy to follow the instructions for finding the "distilled water from unplugged refrigerator trays" bottle.

Hurtling Toward Summer

That's what I call this time of year, the last three weeks or so of school.  It certainly is different being on a school schedule. You think you can barely wait for that long break. Makes me wonder how I ever worked year round, the way about this time of year I think maybe I could retire sometime soon. Ha.

So many of  my students are the same way and have dropped out, got kicked out, got locked up or just plain quit. We even had two student deaths in our district this year; one a 7 year old boy killed by a pitbull, and a 17 year old driving 100 mph in town. I know there is something I should do/should have done.  Research says --blahblahblah-- but guess what, research doesn't know every kid and the myriad of circumstances that lead them to their heart breaking decisions.

Saw my first "summer blockbuster" movie last night, Star Trek: Into Darkness.  I hope and think it is getting a new audience that has never seen the TV series or the first generation of movies.  I love watching how the young actors play the iconic roles.  My favorite has always been Bones.  The 'bad guy' was pretty good, not overdone. I would like to see more of him and sure we will.  Other than that, without shouting spoiler alert, it was okay. I could always do with less chasing, fighting and shooting, but that's what chick flicks are for.

Television

I am actually getting obsessed over television.  I hope this doesn't make me some kind of psycho but here goes. First there was The Following with Kevin Bacon chasing a college professor serial killer who has an increasingly large cult following.  We tend to yell at the bumbling police, FBI, ATF, etc. because they are absolutely inept, but yet we keep coming back, and only four episodes left.

Next is Norma and Norman Bates in Bates Motel.  Wow, we love this one, too.  Vera Farmiga is my new idol.  Pat calls me Farmiga now (which is the highest form of compliment I can think of), and I call him Norman.  This show is going to singled handedly bring back the Swiffer. I left Pat a note today, if you can't read it:  "Get with it, Norman."

We have DVR'd the first episode of Hannibal, which we are hoping is as humorous and engrossing as Bates Hotel, both being prequels to the original movies.  And I heard one of the cable channels is bringing back The Killing.  Oh dear, I think this could be a problem.

50 is...

1. Letting go and moving on.  Pathetic as it is, some 49 year old women still have school girl fantasies. Time to give that up.  Everything from "I'm gonna wear those jeans again" to having the perfect house to going on "The Amazing Race" with Betsy is included here.
2. Letting go's first cousin: Getting over yourself. That is to say, forget the face lift, tummy tuck, lipo dreams. The parts are dropping and gravity wins.  Acceptance is the key.  As someone once said, I earned every one of these wrinkles. They represent a memory, a laugh, a piece of wisdom.
3. Maybe if I'm really lucky, menopause.
4. 50 is the new 50.  I read that in a magazine and thought it was so cool.

It's kind of like a new freedom.  I can just care a little bit less.

Books, etc

I'm having some withdrawals today since finishing Louise Erdrich's "The Round House" last night.  Good book. I had assumed it was an older novel taking place in 1988 on a North Dakota Indian Reservation.  Both my parents roots being in North Dakota and visiting there every single summer and some winters of my childhood, I have related well to Ms. Erdrich's writing ("Master Butcher's Singing Club" though I can't really remember the plot, I know I was sad to have it end).  I wouldn't exactly say I was sad for this book to end, because it deals with some pretty awful situations that I wanted to see resolved, and ended quickly and for a happy ending to enfold.  There was no happy ending, but clues throughout the book that the boy had a good life in spite of the troubling dilemmas he faced.  I always wonder, especially when middle aged women are writing from the perspective of a teenage boy (13), how accurate the thoughts, feelings, and actions are...

Relate well to her writing may not exactly be accurate. I respect her writing and find it wholly engaging.  While reading this book I was suddenly overcome with a new, strange thought. That is, I felt guilty (?), responsible (?) that my ancestors (and ones that I am old enough to remember) took land from the Indians in  North Dakota.  I had never felt personally connected to the tragedy of the Native Americans (sorry Dad).  Whether it was legal, or moral, or  justifiable by saying, "well some other white folks would've took it," the fact is, we European Americans stole this land and screwed these people over big time.

So, after finishing the story and combing the afterword, jacket covers, title page, I find it was just published in 2012.  Surprising.

Proud of you Boys

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIA7mxXjXcw


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7cBVJo0P0A


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jBO6yHrXDA





One plays music all day every day and one plays ball all day long.

Illinois Blizzard

I have not seen much weather since moving to Illinois from Buffalo in 1996, but last week, I had a little scare.   On Wednesday night (December 19) we were hearing tell of a 2-4" snow fall coming in Thursday afternoon. Thursday was the last student day at my school, and the last day of finals.  They rearranged the schedule so that all finals were taken first and second block of the day, and a 1:45 early dismissal was announced.  No problem, I thought, I lived in Buffalo 7 years and survived a few weather incidents.

I drove to work Thursday morning in a light rain, pretty tame. The day was really busy and I wasn't looking outside to see when it started but sometime in midmorning an announcement was made we would now be dismissing students at 12:45 and staff could leave 10 minutes after that.  Maybe about noon I looked out and it was snowing, still no big deal... At 12:45 Pat called me from Macomb to ask how things were in Galesburg because they were pretty bad in Macomb. Honestly, that shook me up when Pat said I should get out of town.  I split and got just ahead of the school busses.  Even then it must have taken 10 minutes to get up to the corner of Henderson St. (3 blocks).  On Henderson, the traffic was really slow and roads snow packed already, and slick. I finally got to the entrance ramp to highway 34 and I was moving at about 40 miles per hour, though there were white outs and it was scaring me somewhat. Also, my windows were full of slushy snow and it was overall very hard to see. I kept the radio on as it was better company than my own thoughts. I was about 2-3 miles down the road, and without warning there's a truck jackknifed about 1000 feet (?)ahead of me and blocking the road. I could see another truck and cars past that spun out and off the road. Luckily I was just at the last exit back into Galesburg (Main St.) so all traffic was exiting.

Time for a quick decision: re-enter the freeway, or pull into town and spend the night.  Into my decision went the following:
I might make it to the next town, where I had a feeling I would be stuck in a motel, however, the visibility was terrible, I am not fond of white outs, and my windows were not clear.
I have a friend in Galesburg who has offered me respite anytime I need it, but she would be coming from her job the way I was going.
I had less than a quarter tank of gas, not enough to keep me warm all night which I considered a distinct possibility.
I had work the next day.
I called Pat with all these things running through my head, and he agreed with my assessment to just stay put.
I pulled off the freeway and back around to the first motel I saw.  At that point, the driving was just getting worse.  I called my friend from the parking lot (in case I had to secure a room) and she was on the road and said it was horrible, but I could stay there whether she made it or not> After buying some pajamas at Target, I proceeded across town and pulled into McDonalds near her house. I had now been mucking around for about an hour.  The snow was piling up and people were taking shelter, there was slipping and sliding everywhere.  Very dangerous even in town.

Val got home around 2:00 and I brought her and her son some food, and we had a whole afternoon and evening ahead.  It seemed really weird. Normally, if I stay there it's 5:00 or so when I get there.  She asked if I like to sew and I said "not really" but she showed me a pajama pants project she was working on for Christmas presents. I sewed on the cute puppy dog buttons while she ran the machine. We watched a really sappy made for TV movie, which I kept making sarcastic remarks about, but I think she really thought it was good, and it did keep my interest. After dinner and newspaper reading, I went to bed.

Got to work a little late, in my same clothes. I was told at noon that the road home was still closed, but I didn't believe it and left shortly after lunch.  I counted 7 cars still off the road on highway 34 and 35 cars off the road on 67.  Apparently, on that second stretch there was a pile up that caused people to indeed spend the night in their cars or makeshift shelters, who were not lucky enough to get rescued by the state police.

So, I have to say my judgment was good, and thank goodness for my generous friend who put me up for the night. It was quite an adventure!

And Dad, you do have exclusive permission to edit and print this in the Family News, as you see fit.

The F Word

Here is my rant for the evening, and I'm only picking on rappers because I'm listening to a song a friend was listening to on Spotify. I've found a lot of good music this way, I would not have otherwise run into. Can't Dr. Dre, every movie I've seen in the last 10 years and the kids on the basketball court and the hallways at school be a little more creative?  My dad has confirmed that the F word has been around since at least the Korean War.  So, it's not really that impressive to say it all the time. Apparently, it is just another word used liberally in the youth vernacular. For myself, besides embarrassing my children and getting fired, my main reason for refraining most of the time from saying it myself is not that I'm particularly offended by it, but that overuse reduces the impact of saying it.

Since we are often told not to complain without offering a solution (or three for my new boss), I would recommend people who like to swear make up a new word.  Here's what I'm thinking of saying to students whom I overhear using it, as we are supposed to somehow stop it, "hey this is an educational facility, and we've all been educated on this word a long time ago, can you think of something else to say?"  My third solution is well, I don't have one.  Maybe I could write to Matt Damon and ask him to help start a campaign in Hollywood to eliminate the F word.

Don't get me started on the N word and the G word either...but i am open to suggestions for response to "that's so gay."  Usually i say something like, "You think it's happy?"  I'm glad you think it's happy.