i wonder about little stevie and little chrissy evert

i remember someone very angrily scoffing that everyone called her "little chrissy evert." he thought that was insulting to her, marginalizing (though we didn't use that word back then), and demeaning (didn't use that one, either). funny, but i don't recall this guy ever saying a word about how they used to call stevie wonder the same thing -  "little stevie wonder."

i wonder why not. (gag, nancy.)



why was it bad to call a young girl, which is what she was, "little chrissy" but not bad to call a young boy, which is what he was, "little stevie?" but more than any of that, why is it bad at all? i think it's nice! i think it's a compliment! i think it's another way of saying "child prodigy!"

i also think it's true. they were kids! they were little! when did being a little kid turn into a bad thing?

i think this angry person who got his feathers all ruffled up about "little chrissy evert" thought he was being her champion (no pun intended). he probably thought he was being the next alan alda of feminism. maybe he was.........for women. but what about for little girls? where was the championing for them? it was nowhere. it was like denying them. it was like saying a kid being little is a bad thing so let's pretend they're not.


two morals to this story: one, being a kid is good.


and two......the further you get from truth...... 


the angrier you'll be. no matter what size you are.




(be sure to teach that to your little ones.)

leaving mass only to have to turn right back around and go to confession

i went to coffee hour after mass this morning and i met a new person who had a lot to say and she said it fast. in ten minutes time, i learned:

that she hurt her ankle and she has it wrapped but she hasn't gotten x-rays and she doesn't know how it happened but she thinks it may have been when the cat landed on her foot and she used to be in the military and her husband used to be in the military and her father was awarded 8 brown stars in the pacific theater but he doesn't like to talk about the war and for 30 years she and her husband didn't have central air in their house - they just had window air conditioners - but this year they finally put in central air and wouldn't you just know it - this summer hasn't been all that hot take for example, today. today is cool and it feels like fall! the weather guys said it's supposed to rain but only here and there so how in the world are you supposed to plan for anything? she has a dog who is part dachshund and part beagle and the dog's mom is the one who was a dachshund and so she always feels a little sorry for that poor little dachshund but the thing is, her dog likes to eat remote controls and he has eaten 6 of them so far but she and her husband finally got smart and now they put the remotes up high where the dog can't reach them. she likes to garden and this year she planted tomatoes but she doesn't like tomatoes but her neighbor, who also likes to garden but can't because she just had her hip replaced, likes tomatoes so she gives her neighbor all her tomatoes and just keeps the green peppers for herself because she and her husband like stuffed peppers and what they do is they make stuffed peppers and freeze 'em and then when there's 2 feet of snow out there in january they can enjoy a homemade meal straight from the garden which she thinks all of us should be doing - unless, of course, we've just had our hip replaced. she also planted green onions and she pulled one up yesterday and ate it but it was SO STRONG that it gave her a stomach ache for the rest of the day and it doesn't really feel too good today if you wanna know the truth. and usually, for these coffee hours, she makes desserts and she had planned to make blueberry blintzes for today but after eating that onion and her stomach feeling the way it does, well, she skipped the baking. she also volunteers at the V.A. and have i heard about all the problems at the V.A ? - (no time for me to answer) - well! the problems at the V.A. are terrible! they're terrible (if she'd given me the chance, i would have agreed) and she sure would like to know what the visiting priest from poland who we had at mass today thinks of this so-called "land of milk and honey" country of ours! she also has an uncle named george wilson and when i hear the words "george wilson" what do i think of? - (again, no time to answer) - well! what i should think of is dennis the menace and how dennis used to pester elderly next-door neighbor, mr. (george) wilson, and how she and her husband always taught their children not to pester old people.

so. now i need to confession.

but not to coffee hour. at least not for a long, long time. 

smart: it's a good place to start.

people of faith (and i am speaking in this blog post today about the Christian faith specifically) are on a continuum in terms of the maturity of that faith. little kids, for example, say they love Jesus and offer prayers to Him but for the most part, they don't know what they're talkin' about. they're just doing what their parents told 'em to do.

kids who are about 9 or 10 might be starting to grasp things a teensy bit better. but not by much.

adolescents don't get it, either, but they think they do. so they begin to drop out.

the rest of adulthood is sort of a mish-mash of this, that, and the other where faith and maturity are concerned. somewhere in this mess, a lot of adults continue to practice their faith just because it's what they've always done. immature.

other adults - i would propose most adults - have maybe delved into their faith a bit deeper and practice it currently not because they necessarily buy it hook, line, and sinker but because they buy at least the basic tenets of it and, moreover, they're scared of what's gonna happen to them in the next life if they don't buy into it. not the highest reason to believe, but not stupid, either.

then there are those with a pretty doggone rock solid, unshakable faith. these guys have a very deep love of Christ. this is about as mature as most any of us get. and it's pretty darned good. it's still rooted in some degree of selfishness, but it's pretty impressive nevertheless.

and then there are those rare few who really get it -  who commit their whole lives to it, like the clergy and the nuns and the monks and the religious hermits. and the reason people like that commit their whole lives to isn't because they fear hell (though they probably do) but because they love God. period. and they love Him so much that they want every aspect of their lives to be in service to Him and in conformity to Him. in short, they love Him more than they love themselves. that's as mature a faith as you can get. and most of us don't have it. 

most of us, in my view, and as i pointed out above, are in that group that's scared as hell of hell. and i think that being scared as hell of hell, if not the penultimate in faith maturity, is at least a reasonable place to be/start. it's a place from which, hopefully, one will launch into something deeper. something better. something non-selfish. the real deal.

besides. being scared as hell of hell makes freaking sense. because even though practicing one's faith primarily (or only) because one is afraid of the consequences of not practicing it isn't a good (enough) reason to practice it, it's an intelligent reason. it might not be particularly holy, but it's smart.


look, folks, either the believers are right or the non-believers are. if the non-believers turn out to be right, the believers who die aren't gonna know they were wrong. no harm, no foul!

if the believers are right, however, the non-believers are sure as hell - pun intended - gonna know they weren't.



how smart are you? never mind how holy.


how smart?

any way you dice it

a complete list of every kind of pasta i have ever had, to the best of my memory which, granted, is shot:

• spaghetti
• bigoli
• capellini
• capellini d'angelo (angel hair)
• fusilli
• pellizoni
• pici
• vermicelli
• ziti
• zitoni
• bavettine
• fettuccine
• lasagna
• linguine
• mafalde
• pappardelle
• scialatelli
• tagliatelle
• taglierini
• cannelloni
• cavatappi
• ditalini
• fagiolini
• garganelli
• gemelli
• macaroni
• manicotti
• marziani
• mostaccioli
• penne
• penne rigate
• penne zita
• rigatoncini
• rigatoni
• rotini
• tortiglioni
• campanelle
• cavatelli
• conchiglie
• conchiglioni
• farfalle
• fiori
• gigli
• orecchiette
• pipe
• radiatori
• rotelle
• rotini
• strozzapreti
• anelli
• orzo
• pearl pasta
• stortini
• mezzelune
• pierogi
• ravioli
• tortellini
• tortelloni
• gnocchi 
• and spaetzle.

and wouldn't you know.....


i like spaghetti the best.


:)

eating

it's gotten so complicated.


it used to be, you ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, period. and ok, so maybe that wasn't the best way to do it but at least it was easy to remember. not to mention, it tasted good.

what you ate for breakfast was bacon and eggs, what you ate for lunch was a sandwich, and what you ate for dinner was meatloaf. in between all that eating, you lived you life. and living your life didn't include one big guilt trip kavetching about:

• gluten vs. non-gluten
• organic vs. pesticide
• soy vs. everything (including soy vs. soy!)
• fruits and vegetables, fruits and vegetables, fruits and vegetables!!!!!!
• vegetarian vs. regular vs. vegan vs. anorexia
• kroger vs. farmer's market
• wild-caught vs. who-even-thinks-about-where-it's-caught
• free range vs. all hemmed in
• red meat! BOO, red meat!
• processed vs. even-though-everyone-is-busier-than-ever,-make-it-yourself
• frequent snacks vs. 3 squares. and the snacks can't be anything fun.
• non-dairy vs. evil dairy
• local vs. shipped in. try eating local oranges in ohio. 
• fair trade vs. is it really fair trade or are we all being duped?
• fruits and vegetables, fruits and vegetables, fruits and vegetables!!!!!!
• eggs are bad vs. eggs aren't as bad as we thought
• caffeine is bad vs. caffeine isn't as bad as we thought
• vs. oh, yes, caffeine is as bad as we thought!
• vs., no it's not.
• peanut allergy, peanut allergy, peanut allergy!
• michelle obama turning every school kid's dream upside down

even the water's not safe.

if charlie brown will let me, maybe i'll direct the Christmas play this year.

i need involvement.


i have a friend who travels the world constantly. at least the asian, american, and european parts of it. you just never know from day to day where he might pop up. his facebook pictures prove it. this guy is on crack with traveling.

mostly, i don't leave the couch. 

i tell myself that i am content with that - and that's not a lie. i am content with it. but i worry why i'm content with it. 

i also worry that maybe i've stopped living.

everyone has heard, at least a million times, the old adage "walk a mile in my shoes." somebody said that to me the other day - about another subject altogether - and now it's my turn: walk a mile in mine.

i don't say that to garner sympathy or even support. i have a lot of both - and i appreciate it. but it's not the same thing as wearing my size 7 mediums.


for the most part, if you ask me to do something - whatever it is - i'm not gonna wanna do it. at which point, everyone's voices start ringing in my ears - some scolding and some irritated - but most of them well-meaning and trying to be encouraging.

it usually makes me feel worse. mile/shoes.

i never used to have a "safe zone," but boy, oh, boy.......i have one now. couch. patio. grocery store. target (no more target for me from now on, however - don't get me started). the kids. church. library. driving. work.

that last one - work - is what keeps me half-sane. by definition, my job requires me to put on somebody else's shoes. excellent antidote for your 7 mediums that lately seem to be rubbing a lot of blisters.



lots of people are out there doing things - living. i'm living, too, but i don't know if i'm growing. maybe i am - just in less obvious ways than the rest of you are growing. if you measure growing by how many planes you've jumped out of or how many concerts you've gone to or how many places you've visited or how many times you eat out each week, then, no. i'm not.

if you measure living by the same standards, then, no. i'm not.



but if i sit out on my patio and count how many deep thoughts i've had today or how many times i've thanked God for what He has done for me or how many times i've reminded myself to be be a better (not necessarily more active) person, then, yeah. i'm livin' it up. i really am.


i sorta like my yardstick for measurement, come to think of it. or, more precisely, i sorta like my whatchamacallit they used to use to measure what size shoe you wear.
 


charlie brown? you still have the job.


:)

 

 

 

 

what i did on my summer vacation

yesterday: 

i went to the store, with a hand-written note that said, "i left this here on purpose. you are the lucky one to find it. now, it's your turn to do something nice."  i wrapped the note around a 5 dollar bill and tucked it in the hot dog case.

i went to a community independence day barbecue with my parents and 4 of their roughly-the-same-age friends. my parents are 87. i listened to conversations that started, then stopped (because the person telling it couldn't remember it), and then started again. only this time, we were on to another topic altogether.

i listened to the same remarks over and over and over:

• "isn't this barbecued chicken good? this barbecued chicken is good."
• "isn't this weather wonderful? this weather is just wonderful."
• "we must be doing something right to get weather like this on the fourth of july!"
• "that's right, don! we must be doing something right!"
• "what was the weather like last fourth of july?"
• "i don't remember."
• "i don't remember, either."
• "remember what?"
• "what the weather was like last year at this time."
• "oh."
• "do you know?"
• "me? no! heavens no! don't look at me! i can't remember what i had for breakfast!"
• isn't this barbecued chicken good? this barbecued chicken is good." 

i came home and gave my dog an extra treat.

i walked around my neighborhood and forgave every single one of 'em for not having an american flag flying. 

i read through my facebook news feed and didn't get angry at anybody's crazy opinions.



i looked back over my day and shamefully realized that i had spent it being more proud of myself than of my country.



today's a new day.

because the government cares about you, that's why

so, by now, we all know that the obama administration doesn't want us to have a hamburger tomorrow. unless it's made out of turkey. or chicken. which, if you have that, isn't a hamburger. 

the obama administration also doesn't want us to have a coke. or a sprite. and, God forbid (God is my choice of words,of course)....God forbid, not a mountain dew. what the obama administration wants you to have tomorrow is water. you're allowed to float a piece of fruit - of your choice- (whoa!!!! your choice!!!!)in it, but it must. be. water.

as for dessert, the kabosh has been putteth upon. we're allowed to have fruit. but that. is. it. nothing else.



now, granted......there's no law (yet) that says we can't eat these hideous things but i can't help but hear a certain set of very familiar words just ringing and ringing and ringing in my ears.......

"slippery slope."

(or is it, "it's my body!" that i'm hearing?)



i'll have mine with lettuce and tomato, heinz 57 and french fried potatoes. (white bun, too.) 


happy fourth, y'all. :)