Confessions of a Terrified Mom By Sally Edwards I’m ready now. I’m ready to ride the world’s tallest roller coaster - a big powerful roller coast reaching 70 miles per hour, tipping, turning, spinning, hurling. The idea is mind boggling, but I’ll take the plunge. I’m trying to make my bargain with God but I know what he really wants me to do is get in the car and take my 15-year old daughter for her first “real” driving practice since receiving her learner’s permit. The new laws are set and enforceable - for the next nine months in the State of Illinois, I would get behind the wheel with my newbie driver. It was suggested that this might be a type of bonding process. Would my daughter, Christine, feel like bonding with a mom who is sweating and hyperventilating and praying towards the sky? Only time would tell. First of all, I have to say, I feel gypped right from the get-go. Where’s my brake? The driving instructor had a brake. This doesn’t seem fair at all. There should be special cars for new drivers to ease the stress on their first passenger (Am I the only boomer who can’t shake the term “suicide seat?”) These special cars should come equipped with one extra gas pedal, one extra brake and one extra steering column - oh yes, and one extra radio station. Do you think I trust my daughter? Absolutely! But please remove all other drivers from the road - at least for a while. I’m also from the era of “Watch out for the other guy.” I don’t trust nobody in no other car, no-how, no way! And so I begin this new journey full of trepidation yet fully aware of the merits of a positive mental attitude. My daughter gets in our 2002 Ford Focus beaming with anticipation. She gingerly backs out of the driveway and for a moment I reflect on my own first driving experience and those very first thoughts. “This is fun! This is exciting! … Why the heck does mom look so uptight?” ©2007 Sally Edwards Now, you can buy Sally Edwards' books! There's rarely a greater gift than comedy, and Sally Edwards now has two hilarious books for you to share with friends. Check it out. You Know Your You You Know Your Kids Are Driving You Crazy, When... You love your children but are you aware that their antics get you crazy and drive you to bizarre behaviors? Sally Edwards, standup comedian and mother of three, hits home as she makes us laugh at the insanity inherent in the child-rearing process. Hilariously illustrated by the artistic wizardry of Robert M. Henry. You Know You're A Sexy Senior, When... Sally's second book, You Know You're a Sexy Senior When..., has just been released and inspires, entertains and makes us laugh. Christian and Corporate comedian Sally Edwards finds the funny in senior living, and shows us that growing older might just be growing funnier! Hilarious cartoons and illustrations by artist Robert M. Henry. Order your copies today for you and as great gifts for all your friends. Click here to order these two great books, which make great gifts! Break a Bone … "Find the Funny!" By Sally Edwards "So how did you break your wrist?" "Wrestling a bear." "Misjudging a back flip." "Losing on ‘Fear Factor." "Outrunning the paparazzi." "Skateboarding on a half pipe." Who am I kidding? I’m a mom with three kids - all sprinting toward adulthood. "So how did you break your arm?" "Missing the second step" "Slipping in the bathtub" "Walking to the mailbox." "Over reaching on the step ladder." "Shoveling the sidewalk." How did I get this old!?! My son broke his leg, when he was six years old, and he doesn’t remember it hurting. I broke my wrist and took a terrifying trip down the road of anxiety, panic, depression and pity in a matter if seconds. I don’t remember my son, Steven, screaming at the doctor, "Don’t you have anything stronger?" I hold my cast in my good arm like a newborn baby. If anyone approaches me, I instinctively retreat. Steven used to hit his full leg cast with sticks as he swung on the swing set. His only return to the doctor was to get a dropped Lego retrieved. I’ve never even given a second thought to playing on the teeter totter. I credit myself with a determination to "find the funny" even as friends and family give me that "Oh, she must be losing bone mass" smile. I stood in the icy vacant fenced parking lot at 7:30 on a frigid Sunday morning surrounded by my four mixed breed dogs, and thought to myself, "I broke my arm. … I’m O.K. … At least it wasn’t a shark attack."… "Or maybe it was!" ©2006 Sally Edwards
BUY NOW AND SAVE!
By Sally Edwards
"Buy Now and Save!" Whoever came up with that slogan was a marketing genius. Words that strike at the heart of every woman as she opens the morning newspaper. A meaningless phrase that contains two words that pinpoint the center of the gathering female brain- "buy" and "save". I hope that copywriter got a raise or maybe a golden crown.
As a woman I realize that I live in denial. I’m "saving" money by purchasing items on sale. My banker would be so proud. Why has my husband yet to grasp this logic?
I’ve never understood the shopping methods of men. My girlfriend, Cathy, says her husband can walk into Walmart, buy a half gallon of orange juice and leave. That’s right! Just leave! Is this man even human?
If I walk into Walmart for one item, I leave with six. You’d see me with a half gallon of orange juice, a pair of slippers, a discounted Halloween costume, or a winter coat.
Not my husband. Nope. He thinks a "Save 60%" sign means he’ll be spending 40%. Apparently, the signs read differently on Mars.
When the credit card bill comes, I look at it in wonder. This couldn’t be right. It says, "Debit". There must be some mistake. I shopped and shopped and saved and saved.
Reluctantly, I pay a balance that shows no indication of all the signs I read and obediently followed.
Sometimes I wondered who married Mr. "Buy Now and Save". Are they beyond rich or wandering paupers? And how could Mr. "Buy Now and Save" have delved inside the female mind and figured it all out. … Dare I say that genius was a woman? After all, it takes one to know one.
©2005 Sally Edwards
The uproarously funny "Family Lunacy" DVD is available now. Find out more at www.chicagofun.com/sallyedwards/
Email Sally at sally@comedybysally.com
ABOUT SALLY EDWARDS:
Sally Edwards is a professional standup comedienne who began her career studying improvisation at Chicago’s Second City. Sally has been featured on Showtime’s Comedy Club Network, A&E and NBC TV’s Friday Night.
Sally is now a frequent guest on WGN Radio with Steve Cochran.
Sally was the first comedian ever to perform on Chicago's Navy Pier Skyline Stage with the legendary band Chicago.
The Chicago Daily Herald writes, "A Laugh a Minute!"
Sally Edwards is the mother of three children enjoying life in the suburbs of Chicago. She is also a nationally known comedienne from Chicago who regularly performs her highly acclaimed one woman show Family Lunacy! for standing room only audiences. Strongly influenced by her Catholic upbringing, Sally has mastered the art of clean family humor. She draws the audience, "her company", into her world and takes us for a wild ride that leaves her audience laughing all the way home.
Sally has been featured on Showtime's Comedy Club Network, A&E's Comedy on the Road and NBC TV's Friday Night. She is a frequent guest of WGN's Steve Cochran Show, and her performances include Navy Pier's Skyline Stage; The Victory Gardens Theatre, Chicago; Harper College, Schaumburg; The Chicagoland Women's Expo at Arlington Park; Park West, Chicago; The Rialto Theatre, Joliet; The Comic Strip - N.Y. and L.A.; The Improv - N. Y. and L.A.; Catch A Rising Star - N. Y.; Zanies Comedy Clubs in Chicago, Nashville, Vernon Hills, and Pheasant Run among others.
December column
The Practice Baby
Do you remember your first baby? The very first baby that you adopted shortly after taking your marriage vows - the practice baby?
Not everyone runs out to get their practice baby - sometimes things come up like, "My husband is allergic."
Practice babies come in a variety of shapes, sizes and colors. Ours was a German Shepherd named "Mesa" who came from a farm in Moline, IL.
The parenting instinct often comes upon us so quickly that we can't wait for test results, the "right time" or a nine month incubation. Practice babies are walked, displayed with pride, and cuddled - a display of empathy and caring that nurtures a home. You may have seen a variety of practice babies at your public parks - young couples walking a pup that is receiving all the attention in the world.
And then the day comes when your own new baby arrives, Spot, Rover and/or Fluffy takes a backseat. And that's O.K. A child who grows up in the company of a four-legged pal achieves levels of empathy not to be rivaled. Unparalleled friendship, a furry sounding board, or a paw to hold, open up a new world of caregiving.
Other benefits begin to emerge. What can rival the humor brought into the home as daddy gets silly and shows his muscles to the dog all the while shouting, "Who's the man? Who's the man?"
Don't forget the opportunities for exercise - My husband said he was going to start running with our dog and so I bought him a nice comfy jogging suit for his birthday. He runs a block and then takes a nap in it!
The practice baby sows seeds that continue to grow and flourish. Whether your practice baby comes with tabby stripes, parakeet feathers, or a deep "woof" - that first new presence will bring a world of compassion to your home.
©2005 Sally Edwards
Visit the website: www.chicagofun.com/sallyedwards/
Email Sally at sally@comedybysally.com
October column
Don't Marry a Felix Unger!
Whatever you do - Don't marry a Felix Unger! My sister makes reference to the super-tidy bachelor from The Odd Couple and I can see she truly believes in her heart that an Oscar Madison is the only way to go. She's got to be kidding!
In all of our lives, friends or relatives speak words of advice that we often disregard as petty. They're often statements that are said in near jest and we think of them as such. And then one day - presto - a simple, near-jest statement is the one that comes back into consciousness again and again. For me, it is this one, spoken by my sister at age 19, that always makes me laugh. Yes. I married a Felix.
Whatever you do - Don't marry a Felix Unger! It hits me again as I watch my husband in the laundry room carefully separating the darks from the whites. Women would swoon to see his intensity.
Whatever you do - Don't marry a Felix Unger! I watch my other half carefully garnish a plate of salmon that he has grilled to perfection. On the stove are cut green beans simmering in a mushroom sauce. Also on display are homemade mash potatoes.
Sally! Whatever you do - Don't marry a Felix Unger! Now I get it! I drop my shovel and wipe the sweat from my forehead. Felix served a mean quiche but I don't remember him doing yard work or being a handyman.
And the irony hits me as I dig out an old lilac bush. And It echoes as I stain the deck and paint the bedroom and peel 'n stick the family room floor. I think of this pre-marriage advice as I pile 10 bags of woodchips in the back of my car to spread under the kid's favorite apple tree. I ponder it as I beg the floor clerk in the hardware store to please explain how to assemble the lawn mower I brought home in an oversized box last week. And I continue to think of it as my husband firmly ushers me away from the washing machine as he holds up his favorite t-shirt covered in bleach stains.
Yep. I married a Felix Unger. Yep. I did.
I return to my digging and think, "This fresh air sure smells good. My Felix doesn't lift a shovel or mend a fence or own a tool kit but I know one thing. His Oscar Madison is one very lucky woman."
©2005 Sally Edwards
July, 2005 Column
Live Your Private Dream
By Sally Edwards
It’s an interesting combination- piano teacher by day; standup comedian by night. To tell you the truth, I went for years denying my comic abilities, never telling the other grade school moms about the person I really was. None of them knew I’d spent most of my life, six days a week and sometimes threes shows a night, in smoky comedy clubs trying to make people laugh.
I didn’t want to admit my recent past because I felt too many negative connotations come to mind in the words "standup comedian" - drinking, drugs, lewd material and perhaps irresponsible mother. Living my teenage years at an all-girl’s Catholic boarding school, I’d been engrained with a lifestyle that was not a match. And so I kept my past and dreams a secret.
I took off many years from standup comedy when my children were small. After my third child was born, I missed them all so much when I would go out to do a show at night. I continually thought, "Why am I here? I want to go home." Eventually the desire to be with my children at night combined with a healthy dose of exhaustion convinced me that I could leave standup and lead a "normal" life. In retrospect, the lesson learned is - never turn your back on your dream - it will catch up with you, if you’re lucky.
What happened in those years that I stayed away from the stage? I wrote and wrote and wrote.
(Eventually that writing would become my first show entitled, "BIG PEOPLE, little people!") It was easy to write. I found my children endlessly amusing - let’s change that to downright hilarious. I thought to myself, "What if adults acted like children?’ "How long would it take for an adult who acted like a child to be committed?" Maybe less than a minute?
My son wore his Power Ranger costume to the grocery store. If I did that nobody would think I was cute. They’d commit me. They’d call the authorities. They’d call 911. They’d say, "Bag Lady in Aisle 6!"
What if I started screaming in church and tried to run up the aisle? Nobody would say, "She’s kind of cranky today." No! They’d hustle me out and everyone would be very "disturbed".
What if I ate a spaghetti dinner and left the sauce all over my mouth and ran it through my hair?
How do kids get away with this stuff!?
And it made me laugh. And I wrote it down. And I’m still writing it down today.
The other day I was teaching a six-year-old girl a beginning piano lesson. In all her innocence, she started her own interesting conversation with me. "Mrs. Edwards. don’t you hate it when you’re on the monkey bars and you forget you have a skirt on, and your underpants show?" And I said quite matter-of-factly, "Yes. I do hate that. I hate that so much and I know just how you feel!"
©2005 Sally Edwards
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August 2005 column
Back to School
By Sally Edwards
"When do your kids go back to school? The end of August? Oh, that's too bad. That's so early."
That's so early! I look at my senior neighbor with her white hair reflecting the sun like an early halo. Her compassion is well-meant, but misguided.
Has she seen my house?
After driving my daughter to school for her first half-day back, I re-enter the house like a soldier exhausted from a never-ending bombardment. The scene before me plays out like the aftermath of a violent windstorm. The room is silent, and the eeriness lingers. How did Steven's soccer shoe end up on the buffet? Did Brendan eat and leave that popsicle stick on the sofa? Were the newspapers being recycled on the back of the piano? Who's windbreaker is that? It wouldn't fit anyone in this house.
I don't rush to clean, instead enjoying the solitude. If my mother-in-law could see me now, she might think I'd entered a catatonic state and would encourage me to get medical help. Certainly a woman who lets her home become this far gone must need to talk to somebody. And one thing's for sure - a woman who doesn't run to a dirty sink full of dishes - pronto - doesn't have her priorities straight.
The silence is deafening, yet beautiful. I move the cat to sit in the LA-Z-BOY, and I lean my head back. I listen to the quiet and breathe it in like a classical piece that is not meant to be interrupted.
BRRRRRRNGGG. I'm jerked out of my early retirement. "Mom, I forgot my notebook that's supposed to be for Science. Can you come and bring it? And could you stop at the store 'cuz I forgot we've gotta have six boxes of Kleenex to give to the teacher!"
The math wheels in my head spring into action. Twelve minute drive to school, plus eight minutes in store plus seven minutes in school, plus the ride back subtracted from only a half day! I grab the keys to the minivan and take one last look at my Disneyland of Dishevelment. A project for another day.
©2005 Sally Edwards
JULY, 2005 COLUMN:
The Riveting Memories of Motherhood
By Sally Edwards
"Hello. Could you hold on a minute? I'll be right back." I put the phone down on the kitchen table and run out the front door to continue my frantic search for Christine's kitten.
"Hi, just a second. I'm right in the middle of something - Just one second." With the dog still in the utility sink, I'm covered from head to foot in water and splattered dog shampoo.
"Could you hold on? I've got a little emergency here." I'm standing in the laundry room with a box turtle in my hands. There's a big hole in it's shell and it's bravely holding onto life.
HOW DO I GET MYSELF INTO THESE SITUATIONS. I SWEAR I USED TO BE NORMAL...
These moments are the riveting memories of motherhood. How many do you have?
I used to imagine marriage and family as a page from Home and Gardens Magazine- tableware for eight, a showcase living room, and matching towels. Do you know how far off that mark I've come? Last night, I mopped up the kitchen floor with one of our guest towels. It was 10:00 p.m. and the dog had come in with muddy paws. Exhausted, I made a guest towel sacrifice and saved myself another climb up a flight of stairs.
Getting ready for bed, I peaked in the second bathroom to turn off a light. There were newspapers on the floor because my husband rodded out the sink that morning. Wet paper stuck to my shoe and I turned from Mommy to Mummy as I walked down the upstairs hall.
How far off the mark have I come?
That box turtle, now safe again in our backyard - when did I agree to that? Who named the turtle Apple Pie? Why do I catch myself saying, "Good morning, Apple Pie. How are you today?"
Why do we have a house bunny. Isn't that an oxymoron? What happened to outside bunny?
I ponder these things as Christine's new kitten peaks out from under the dining room table cloth. He's got a chicken bone in his mouth and the $1,000 vet bill flashes in my mind like a lighted billboard. I swear I was normal before I got married and had kids but THIS IS SO MUCH MORE FUN!
© 2005 Sally Edwards
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JUNE, 2005 COLUMN:
FROM TWO TO TEEN
By Sally Edwards
Every new mom is warned about the “terrible twos”- the time in your child’s life when he or she is transformed into a mobile destruction unit no longer capable of understanding the word “No”. Every mom comes out with her war stories of the child who survived their own personal reign of terror.
Brendan spun out of control and threw himself sideways down a flight of stairs; Steven jumped on the bed in his sister’s room, missed that perfect landing and broke his leg; Christine sucked on the counter at McDonalds and lived to laugh and shudder at the story.
Ah, the terrible twos- the simple life of parental worry. Little did I know that the terrible twos were baby steps to prepare us for the terrible teens- those adorable out-of-control kids- with attitude!
Does it strike you as ironic that most young girls approach their change of life into womanhood at the same time their own mothers are approaching their change of life into the golden years? I refer to this phenomenon as the hormonal train wreck. Two cyclonic life forms spiraling out-of-control trapped in the boundaries of four brick or aluminum-sided walls. No wonder the house starts to heave ho and split at the seams spilling out teenagers screaming, “Freedom, freedom, freedom!”
Does is strike you as odd that in the “olden, olden days” young boys were plowing the fields and assuming an iron-clad work ethic so that they could start their own families at age 14 or 15? Now we keep them under wrap until they’re 18 and wonder why they attempt to blow the roof off the house with loud music full of agonizing lyrics.
And so I muse at the ironies of my terrible teens coming of age. I see the sky darken and the 30-foot wave approaching as lightening bolts strike a former sea of calm. And every time another emotional wave approaches with its threats and outbursts, I think to myself, “Oh yeah, I used to do that, too!”
© 2005 Sally Edwards
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MAY, 2005 COLUMN:
By Sally Edwards
I'm looking at my two teenage boys sitting on the sofa as they watch reruns of The Daily Show. At ages 14 and 15, they are both gaining height as rapidly as I gain width from mid-life bulge. . Steven is a natural talker, a natural laugher, a definite people person. Brendan at 15, is so highly intelligent that his innocent questions in the car at age five brought all conversation to a halt. "Mom, why do people say "one egg" but not "zero eggs?". "Mom, what matter do you think black holes are made of?" He followed through in life by getting a 98% on his PSATs.
"Earth to Mom!" My 13 year old daughter, Christine walks towards my desk in the family room and is radioing in. "Mom, what are you thinking about?"
"I was thinking about those earthlings over there that I gave birth to. How'd did they get bigger than me and smarter than me? When I met them they were only 23 inches long. None of this makes sense. I've been on the planet longer. I should know more stuff and be able to do more stuff."
"Mom, can I have a trampoline? The Burkes just got one." Images of bounding children in neck braces crossed my mind.
"No. I can't take the chance that someone will get hurt in our backyard."
"But the Burkes got one."
"Christine, that's because the Burkes have five kids and its cheaper than a babysitter. If two of them break their leg, they score an advantage of less mobility in the house."
"Can I get a tattoo?"
I gasped for breath. "A tattoo!"
Christine answered me with conviction, "Yes. I'd like a tattoo of a little yellow rose right above my rear. I think it will look pretty with my bathing suit this summer."
I shook my head "No" but I knew Christine would not be convinced. I realize that what young girls don't understand is that with time and gravity that little yellow rose will grow into a giant sunflower.
"But mom, it's like the really cool thing to do now!"
Uh, oh - did she say "cool"? I reeled from yet another revelation. My children are bigger, smarter and COOLER than me. As my eyes glazed back toward Jon Stewart as he wraps up another segment of irreverent hilarity - the realization of all the joy of motherhood was clear. I had given birth to higher life forms. Three beautiful children all who are bigger, smarter and cooler than me. For this great gift, I am awestruck and forever thankful. In my prayers, I say, "Thank you God. This is so COOL!"
"Participants" wanted
A Stanford Medical research group advertised for participants in a study of obsessive-compulsive disorder. They were looking for therapy clients who had been diagnosed with this disorder. The response was gratifying; they got 3,000 responses about three days after the ad came out. All from the same person.
Theories to Explain Life Around the World
A contest was held for people to submit their theories on ANY subject. Below are the winners:
4th RUNNER-UP (Subject: Probability Theory)
If an infinite number of rednecks riding in an infinite number of pickup trucks fire an infinite number of shotgun rounds at an infinite number of highway signs, they will eventually produce all the world's great literary works in Braille.
3rd RUNNER-UP (Subject: Bio-Mechanics)
Why Yawning Is Contagious: You yawn to equalize the pressure on your eardrums. This pressure change outside your eardrums unbalances other people's ear pressures, so they then yawn to even it out.
2nd RUNNER-UP (Subject: Symbolic Logic)
Communist China is technologically underdeveloped because they have no alphabet and therefore cannot use acronyms to communicate technical ideas a= t a faster rate.
1st RUNNER-UP (Subject: Newtonian Mechanics)
The earth may spin faster on its axis due to deforestation. Just as a figure skater's rate of spin increases when the arms are brought in close to the body, the cutting of tall trees may cause our planet to spin dangerously fast.
HONORABLE MENTION (Subject: Linguistics)
The quantity of consonants in the English language is constant. If omitted in one place, they turn up in another. When a Bostonian "pahks his cah," the lost R's migrate southwest, causing a Texan to "warsh" his car and invest in "erl" wells.
GRAND PRIZE WINNER (Subject: Perpetual Motion)
When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet, and when toast is dropped, it always lands buttered side down. It was proposed to strap giant slabs of hot buttered toast to the back of a hundred tethered cats; the two opposing forces will cause the cats to hover, spinning inches above the ground. Using the giant buttered toast/cat array, a high-speed monorail could easily link New York with Chicago.
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While you're driving, working, playing... don't get mad today, find the humor in the situation and the blessings. Have a wonderful day!
-Meander Editor
P.S. Please pass this on to people in your address book. Send them a link to www.meandermagazine.com
Something tells me this kid won't end up at the top of his class.
Don't show it off if you can't wear it correctly.
Yeah, this is safe.
Spray-painting the side of your house
does not increase its perceived value.
Ever heard of a leash?
One sign that you're spending too much time at the computer.
Carolyn felt like she never quite fit in amongst the goth crowd.
Great follow-up sign.
The smiley face is a nice touch.
And the news room goes silent...
You have to love how no one has seen him yet
Steady sleeper.
There are just some things you can't un-see
~~~~
Copyright Gospel Communications International, Inc - www.reverendfun.com
Photo by Sia Yambasu
"May I be of assistance?"
CLUTTERBUGS
By Dianne James
"This house is so cluttered I can't find anything," said my husband. I looked around, and realized that most of the clutter was his, on that particular day, anyway. He seemed to be oblivious to that fact. He's not only a closet packrat, he builds guitars. He rebuilds guitars- guitars that don't quite meet his specifications when he buys them. Our living room is a guitar parts morgue. We could open up a store... They ought to make tables that have a slight angle to them, because every flat surface in our house gets piled with guitar parts, newspapers, mail, art supplies, telephones (yes we have several that don't even work, but "might be salvageable"), and all the equipment that goes along with the guitar building and playing. His "workroom" has a tendency to overflow into the living areas. He said, just the other day, that he wanted to use the other bedroom to "store" stuff, too. I had to make a decision, to blatantly show him that most of the clutter is his, or keep quiet and put all his things away in his used-to-be-a-bedroom "workroom". He surely would complain then, because it would be "put up." We can't ever find things that are "put up." We "put it up" so well, that it's never to be seen again. Might as well go buy another one, for all the good it's gonna' do us looking for it.
The trouble is, I think, we have too much stuff. If someone came by today and asked us to take up our cross and follow Christ, we wouldn't be able to find it. The Spring cleaning bug has died, too. It comes around once a year around March. Things get spruced up and "put up" and then it slowly fades away, back to the way it was. Little baskets I put around to hide the parts, and pocket contents he dumps out when he comes home are filled to the brim with all kinds of things- gloves, dog leashes, papers, and one even has an amplifier balanced on top of it.
Dust is another problem. We live in the Southwest, where rain is as scarce as change from a vending machine. Lots of dust causes lots of static electricity, which in turn causes computer freeze-ups and malfunctions. With both of us being avowed computer geeks, that certainly is a problem. We are frequently unplugging everything and plugging it back in to release the charge. I even bought some anti-static spray the other day, but alas, it is lost, after just one use. We live in Colorado, but you'd think I was back in West Texas with all the dust that seems to creep in here. I work at home, so my husband thinks I have all day to just go around and dust, and find things. He has no idea... Well, occasionally I do the chores, but anything that needs dusting that's more than five feet high, isn't going to get dusted. If I can't see it, it isn't there. It doesn't bother me, as long as I can't see it.
Maybe I'll start building pianos. They have lots of parts. And they're really big. Nah. They have a flat surface on top. I'd never be able to get into them to work on them. Besides, I'd never get anything else done, just playing the piano all day...
Robin's Rainbow
By Dianne James
When my daughter was very young, one night she was saying her prayers. She paused and asked me, "Mom, if I pray for a rainbow, will God make one?" Well, what could I say? Anyone who can part the Red Sea, can make a rainbow for a six-year-old. I hem-hawed around for a few seconds, and then told her that, yes, if she believed... Then I thought, "What have I done? What if there's no rainbow tomorrow? What if there are no clouds? And if there are, what if it doesn't rain? I've hurt the faith of this little one!"
The next day, there was not a cloud in the sky. Of course. Great. Now Mom's a liar. It was Memorial Day, so we went to the cemetery to pay our respects. We were walking around, and I had hoped she had forgotten about the rainbow prayer. Apparently she had, but I had not. The scriptures say that if you believe, basically God gives you what you pray for, if you ask in Jesus' (Yeshua's) name. I was having some worrisome thoughts as we walked through that cemetery. Then we came upon a section which was being watered with sprinklers. Lo and behold, there was Robin's rainbow, just as plain as day. It was almost as if God was saying, "See? Oh you of little faith. I can make it happen, even when it seems impossible." I wish the story ended there, but it doesn't. I saw it, but I didn't see it for what it was, until later. I didn't recognize it, to show her that God had answered her prayer.
Her little simple prayer was a huge lesson for me. He answered her prayer, as it turns out, for me. How many times have I missed the blessing? Now I look for answered prayers in whatever form they might take.
I guessed I would forgive her for the oatmeal dumped between the wall and the refrigerator. And telling the neighbor she had a "mold" on her face. And, saying, "huh, uh... no Mom, this is what you said," when I was trying to be a little too polite in conversation. And wallpapering the hall with stick-on feminine napkins... Sigh... I miss those days.
© 2005 Dianne James
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The Dumbest Woman on Earth:
Not a blonde?
I've lived my entire adult life with "dumb blonde" jokes. Whoever started them, probably spawned by pornographers allured by Marylyn Monroe types (probably with dyed hair), should be locked up in a room with a hundred blonde professional women on a month-long sabbatical from bad bosses. Think he'd make it out alive? I think he'd definitely be a changed creature after that month. He'd gain a new understanding of blondes, that's for sure.
If you really want to know the truth of it, the dumbest woman to ever walk the face of earth had dark hair (likely, though we may never know for sure.) She was, without a doubt, the dumbest woman to ever live. Her name? Eve. Very unlikely blonde, seeing as how her issue to this very day is mostly brunette or have black or dark hair. So get the blonde thing out of your head for just a moment. You see, she and Adam were originally created equal (many women today have a big problem with that "man having dominion over women" thing), otherwise, as I see it, God would have taken a bone out of Adams foot to create Eve. He didn't. (Now, wait, all you Bible believers- you have to read the rest of this before you'll understand just when Eve lost her "equal" status.) The bone came from his side, his rib. To me, this signifies equality. Well, then what does this dark-haired woman do but sashay up to a serpent and strike up a conversation with him (precursor to flirting, I suppose?). Didn't she think it unusual that a serpent could talk? Guess not. That was Dumb act #1.
Now for dumb act #2: After a little chit chat, (Gen. 3:1..."Really?" he asked the woman. "Did God really say you must not eat any of the fruit in the garden?" Gen. 3:2"Of course we may eat it," the woman told him. 3:3 "It's only the fruit from the tree at the center of the garden that we are not allowed to eat. God says we must not eat it or even touch it, or we will die.") she believes this creature (remember a serpent that can talk) when he calls God a liar, basically (3:4 "You won't die!" the serpent hissed. 3:5 "God knows that your eyes will be opened when you eat it. You will become just like God, knowing everything, both good and evil." 3:6 The woman was convinced.) Now, it doesn't look like it took much convincing, does it? How dumb is that, after the head honcho of the place, the owner, the boss (the best boss ever, one who actually loves his workers) says don't eat fruit from that tree, and a snake or serpent (that's not supposed to be able to talk) can 'talk you into it'?
Dumb act #3: The dark-haired woman proceeds to eat the fruit (Adam, by the way, was right there with her- why didn't he pipe up and say "uh, hon, I don't think this is a good idea...I don't trust that serpent (that can talk, remember?). He was most likely dark-haired as well, remember.
Dumb act #4: She turns and offers it to her husband. All the while the serpent is watching. I never saw a serpent grin, but I'll bet he did.
Dumb act #5: They hid from God. Whose idea was that, I wonder?
Dumb act #6: They look for someone to blame it on (3:12 "Yes," Adam admitted, "but it was the woman you gave me who brought me the fruit, and I ate it." 3:13 Then the LORD God asked the woman, "How could you do such a thing?" "The serpent tricked me," she replied. "That's why I ate it.") Now I don't know about you, but that conversation was a blatant manipulation, i.e. a lie, by the serpent, but not a trick. Eve believed a lie, just believed what the serpent said. (Remember this the next time a snake or lizard comes up to you and strikes up a conversation). Genesis Chapter 3:16 is where Eve, (a dark-haired woman? Again, we'll never know for sure), sold out her equality, not only for herself, but for all women from then on (3:16 Then he said to the woman, "You will bear children with intense pain and suffering. And though your desire will be for your husband, he will be your master.")
They were both dumb, at that time. God didn't make them stupid, but they sure had an Adam and Eve moment. I don't think you have to have any particular hair color to be dumb. You could even be bald. So dumb-blonde-joke-tellers, get over it already. If you don't like who you are, at least quit putting others down to make yourself feel better.
Interesting, that when I used to work for a company which employed mostly Hispanic people (including the boss), they could make blonde jokes all day, which is a reference to my racial heritage, but if I said just one slanderous joke referring to their race (which I wouldn't have, even if it was legal), then that would be considered by the law to be a form of assault, among other things.)
Maybe blonde jokes should be outlawed. You think?
Intrigued? Read more...
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Photo by Michelle Young
"Just move, I dare you."
"Well, hello, cowboy..."
DAILY AFFIRMATIONS FOR THE UNSTABLE
- I no longer need to punish, deceive or compromise myself. Unless, of course, I want to stay employed.
- A good scapegoat is nearly as welcome as a solution to the problem.
- As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I can get in touch with my Inner Sociopath.
- I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
- Today, I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than "I told you so."
- I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper and complain.
- As I learn the innermost secrets of the people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.
- I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.
- I honor my personality flaws, for without them I would have no personality at all.
- Joan of Arc heard voices too.
- When someone hurts me, forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as gratifying.
- The first step is to say nice things about myself. The second, to do nice things for myself. The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.
- As I learn to trust the universe, I no longer need to carry a gun.
- Just for today, I will not sit in my living room all day watching TV. Instead I will move my TV into the bedroom.
- Who can I blame for my own problems? Give me just a minute... I'll find someone.
- Why should I waste my time reliving the past when I can spend it worrying about the future?
- I will find humor in my everyday life by looking for people I can laugh at.
- I am willing to make the mistakes if someone else is willing to learn from them.
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How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one, but the bulb has to be willing to change.
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Bits O' Funny
- Comedy has to be based on truth. You take the truth and you put a little curlicue at the end. -Sid Caesar
- Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not; a sense of humor to console him for what he is. -Francis Bacon
- Last week I went shopping and splurged. This week I took control and cut up all my credit cards. Now I just carry my husband's wallet. -Sally Edwards
- Duct tape is like the force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together. -Oprah Winfrey
- You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog. -Harry S. Truman
- Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime. Teach a man to create an artificial shortage of fish and he will eat steak. -Jay Leno
- It is a scientific fact that your body will not absorb cholesterol if you take it from another person's plate. -Dave Barry
- A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice. -Bill Cosby
- Start every day off with a smile and get it over with. -W. C. Fields
- Time is the best teacher, but unfortunately, it kills all of its students. -Robin Williams
- A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing. -Emo Philips
- I always wanted to be somebody, but now I realize I should have been more specific. -Lily Tomlin
- I used to pray for wisdom, until I learned all the things you have to go through to get it. -Dianne James
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The satirist shoots to kill while the humorist brings his prey back alive and eventually releases him again for another chance. -Peter De Vries
Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing. -William James
You can turn painful situations around through laughter. If you can find humor in anything, even poverty, you can survive it. -Bill Cosby