Tirade Time-Out

Sometimes, while you're complaining about things that make you crazy, life throws some perspective your way. That's what's happened to me in the last couple weeks. My very good friend has a son whose fiance is days away from dying - she put off getting a lump in her breast checked. Now, it's too late. Now, she is asking "How long do I have?". Now, she has to face her mortality at the young age of 47. Now, her children, who have never been close, are still distant and, seemingly, uncaring. Less than a month ago she was working. Now, nothing's working - all her organs are involved in this treachery - even her bones. She is in excruciating pain. She has no hope. So, today, I will skip the tirade. Today, I will count my blessings, my friends, my family, my fingers and toes - all those things I often take for granted. Today, I am grateful to be alive, relatively healthy, and looking forward to many more years of the same. I wish the same for you.

Third Tirade

I think we all know people who do this - they interject "you know" into everything they say. That was bad enough. Now, there's another one - "know what I'm sayin'?" Notice how politically correct I am? I didn't mention what we all know to be true and that's who started all this.

Look, if it's not clear what you're saying, I'm pretty sure someone will tell you - we don't need you to ask over and over again during a conversation or while you're being interviewed. It's annoying and it makes you look, well, (dare I say it?) STUPID. It's as if you truly don't know what you're about to say so you put in some "filler" words to give yourself time to figure it out.

These bad habits are hard to break. Imagine listening to our President give a speech or a pastor give a sermon, or a professor teach physics and having "know what I'm sayin'?" mixed in every other sentence. Holy crap - would not be good.

So stop it!!!!!  You are not doing yourself any favors by saying this and, eventually, you will wish you'd never started it in the first place - like when you're in that really important job interview!  I suppose if all you ever want to do with your life requires you to communicate only with people who probably WON'T know what you're saying - then you'll be fine. Otherwise, it's time to purge it from your conversation before it's too late!!

KNOW WHAT I'M SAYIN?

Memory DNA

OK - so this isn't a tirade - I'm taking a small break from fuming to suggest something I've thought about for a long time.

Every once in a while, I find myself realizing that, not only am I doing or saying something exactly like my mom or dad but I actually feel like I AM them. I swear - at that particular moment, I'm filled with the realization that, not only did I inherit their DNA in terms of my physical characteristics but, also, their feelings and emotions and the ESSENCE of what makes them....them.

I've often wondered if DNA carries with it not only those tangible traits we're used to thinking about - eye color, height, ear bumps - you know, all those things that get pointed at when we're born, "Oh, look, she's got her mom's curly hair," - stuff like that. What if it also carries with it memories of those who came before us - or things they experienced or skills they acquired?

That would SO explain those people who feel like they've been somebody in a past life - or the books written about kids who suddenly speak French or play the piano like a virtuoso without ever having heard that language and nary a piano lesson. Nary - there's a word you don't hear very often - OK, back to my theory.

So, what do you think? Possible? Why not?

We may have decoded the human genome but we don't yet know what it all means. Imagine if, while looking for the mutation that results in a deformity of the 2nd right toenail, researchers also find material which seems to have no function related to identifiable conditions or traits. What if that new material is found to exist in EVERY DNA sample no matter where it comes from - human, bird, lizard, whatever?

What if that material is what makes us play the piano or speak a foreign language without any lessons or instruction because it contains MEMORIES? What if that material is what makes birds able to find their way to their migratory routes? What if that material is what tells baby turtles to head to that huge body of water and just start swimming? What if "child prodigies" have DNA with more of that material than "normal" kids? Hmmmmmm.

 So, there you have it. I say, it's an interesting concept. Yes? No? We'll see........

Tirade #2

America is a great nation. I truly believe that. HOWEVER, I think there's something really wrong with how we value what people do. For instance, there's nothing wrong with being a professional athlete or singer or actor/actress but, really, is what they do worth a bazillion dollars?

I know, I know, not everyone who does this for a living is making that kind of money, but what does our willingness to fork over lots of our hard earned $$ to watch or listen to these people say to our kids when, at the same time, we bitch about paying our taxes or the cost of gas. Hey, I agree - both those things make me mad, too - especially since we have no choice (anarchy?) than to pay for these things. What you do for entertainment, on the other hand, IS a choice.

I wonder how many people subscribe to some pay-per-view sports event or buy the latest CD or DVD and then feed their children hot dogs and boxed mac & cheese because they can't afford anything better. I wonder how many of these same kids want to be one of those highly-paid athletes/performers - I know I would! How many of those same kids dream of the day they could be a teacher or a policeman. Seriously - which would YOU want to be based on potential income?

There's nothing wrong with dreaming of making a lot of money and being famous - but how I yearn for that fame to come from something that makes us better as a country. I admit, I love a good movie, song or tennis match - they can lift the spirit and that's a good thing. I'd miss all that if it went away - but that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, the value we place on those things is skewed. Let's pay our teachers enough money that kids talk about wanting to be one when they grow up because they can make a good income - and being a teacher is a much more attainable goal than being the next 3-point-shot wonder on on a pro basketball team.

It's almost like a drug - once hooked on all these things you become obsessed and you'll pay whatever it costs to get your fix. Sad. Instead of watching tennis, get your butt out there and play - you'll have fun and get fit, too! Couch potatoes with type 2 diabetes - that's where many of us are heading because we "watch" instead of "do". Wait - that's another tirade for the blog!

Tirade time.....America, wake up! Quit being led around by the nose by the media and sports conglomerates!!!  Instead of idolizing entertainers, spend your money on something that increases your brain power....imagine what would happen if we just cut back a little on all that crap - a healthier nation, a smarter nation, a more interesting population. Wow!  I'm psyched for that! 

If I keep writing these, someone is bound to have a tirade of their own about the fact that I am so negative. Oh, well!  Start your own blog!

Tirade Number One

Here's my first tirade - and it was chosen in no particular order of importance or "fume factor".

Sunsweet "Ones".  Those prunes that now come individually packaged instead of in a bag all snuggled together - you know what I mean, right?

Now, you have to ask yourself, why in the name of all that is prunish do the folks at Sunsweet think that this is really a better way to package prunes? Seriously - you have a wrapper you have to dispose of every time you eat one of those little buggers. Talk about waste!  Somebody out there do the math - how much more landfill is created by those "Ones"?!

And, really - do you truly think putting a prune in a plastic jacket makes them taste more like candy? Really? It's still a prune. Why on earth do you want to encourage waste, Sunsweet? Do you think you can fool kids into believing a prune tastes like candy? If they didn't before their special wrappers, what makes you think they do now? (OK - here comes the tirade part).

PLEASE, stop it!!!!  Are you listening???? Do you truly think Americans are idiots (oh, my God, maybe we are)????  AHHHHHH!!!!!!!

OK - I'm done with this "one"........

Tirades

I am going to begin a series of tirades - I just can't help myself. There are so many things that make me fume that I feel compelled to put it all in writing. Maybe I'll find others who feel the same way and, together, we can vent in a cohesive manner - maybe our venting will be heard by those who are making us fume and things will change? HAHAHAHAHAHA.  I almost believed myself there. So, stay tuned - tirades - like tsunamis - once begun, can't be stopped.

What Happens Between the Beginning and End

I don’t think I’m unlike most writers. I typically start with a great beginning and a good idea as to how I want things to end. It’s filling in all that middle stuff that drives me nuts.

For instance, I have an idea for a story about a woman who acts out her dreams. She ultimately starts having a recurring dream about being stalked by a man who wants her dead. During one of those dreams she takes a letter opener (conveniently located on her bedside table) and stabs her sleeping husband to death. Then, there’s a trial and her lawyer tries to convince the jury she’s not guilty of murdering her husband – that she was acting in self defense against a crazy man who just happened not to be real. I won’t tell you the outcome (yes, I’ve thought that through) but I just can’t get started nor can I figure out how to get from A to B.

OK – you try filling in all the other stuff. It’s hard. It makes my head hurt. Maybe I don’t have the patience. Probably. I tend to want things done NOW. It’s amazing I can even get through a story at all without skipping to the end to find out what happens. Reading “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” nearly killed me. It’s long. Really long. My granddaughter had no problem, though. She’s 8, she doesn’t yet know what it feels like when life is like a roll of toilet paper – the closer you get to the end of the roll, the faster the sheets fly by. That’s how it is after 50 (or half-way to dead, as my husband puts it). Oh, to have 90% of my life still ahead of me – maybe then I could come up with that middle stuff.

Character Development

When thinking about writing a story, one of the things I’ve always found difficult is the “fleshing out” of the characters I’m trying to write about. I have to admit, it’s much easier if I don’t have to do that at all. If I’m writing about myself and what I do to get a story idea I don’t need to make up anything – I just write about what’s happening at the moment, a no-brainer! Plus, I’m not very complex – what you see is what you get and if you don’t like what you get, then don’t look. Right? Totally!

Maybe you should know a few things about who I am now. Though no longer the “I’ll show you my boobs for a dime” kid, I have retained my tomboyishness (whoa – the spell checker hates that word) and my softball throw distance record STILL stands at my old high school. That’s way cool! My sport of choice now is tennis.

Speaking of that, one of my greatest lessons as a kid was when my best friend and I were going to play some tennis and my dad told us he used to play. We sort of snickered at him, thinking, “Sure, old man, whatever.” He offered to hit with us and we laughed and said “OK” thinking he wouldn’t stand a chance. We couldn’t return his serves. We were humiliated. We never spoke of it again (sorry Laura, I’ve spilled the beans on this page and I hope you can forgive me!).

Tennis is a fabulous sport. I think, if he were alive today, my dad would be proud of how well I play now – so much better than when I was that smart-alack kid daring him to step on the court. I’ve passed my passion on to my son and am trying to pass it along to my grandkids. Not sure it’s working, though. My granddaughter said to me the other day, “Grammy, I just don’t get it.” Sigh. Maybe some day she’ll discover just how gratifying it is to smash an overhead for the winning set point but, for now, she’s oblivious. She’d rather read. That’s not bad, either.

Tossing Around Some Ideas

OK – so I’ve finally committed to writing this confounded thing. I have to admit, before I decided to write this blog I agonized about the topics. Most authorities say you should write about what you know….well, I know about wondering what to write about – does that count? I think so, thus, these posts that came about as a result of not knowing what else to tackle. Hey, everyone has a blog these days, why not me!!!???!

Certainly, I’ve had experiences throughout my life that could be written about, although most would bore the type off the page. How many yawns constitute boredom? Hmmm – that may develop into another post some day. Heck, stranger things have been written about so why not that?

No, I guess I should think about something more serious – or entertaining – or relevant. In whose opinion? That’s what makes me crazy – trying to conform to some opinion of the masses when I haven’t a clue who the masses are and what their opinion might be. Maybe I shouldn’t care. OK, I don’t. But, then, there are the critics who read your work and whose opinions are important to success in the literary field (does a blog even qualify?). I’ve never held those folks' comments in high esteem, mostly because I’ve found many a story whose reviews were dismal but, after I read them anyway, enjoyed them immensely. Either that means the critics were wrong or I have really low standards. Either way, enjoyment is enjoyment and I don’t care who is right or wrong – only that the enjoyment factor is there.

I could share the story about being a tomboy as a kid – wishing I had been born a boy, mostly because my dad had wanted a son after having 3 girls. I tried.  Really hard. Played ball, collected bugs (and tormented my sisters with them), got muddy (to the dismay of my mom), loved to fish and just generally wanted to do whatever boys did. Until I turned 12. Suddenly, doing things that boys did took second fiddle to wanting boys to do me. Well, at 12, I wasn’t sure what that meant but I knew I wanted their attention – and not because I held the softball throwing distance record at school. But there are tons of stories about the passage from youth to adulthood – most are predictable if not poignant but it’s been done enough so, nope, not going to do that.

Oh – how about what it was like growing up in rural California? Laboring in the orchards, picking fruit or nuts along with the Hispanic folks who taught me so much about how to get the job done quickly and efficiently. How they had the whole family out there, working all day, laughing while they toiled and taking the occasional dip in the irrigation canal. How about that? Well, that’s about all there is to tell, so not really enough for a full-blown story.

Hey – I know, how about the rumors that followed me from grade school to high school! When I was 10, neighborhood boys talked me into lifting my shirt for 10 cents so they could look at my “boobs”. I thought they were suckers. My chest looked just like theirs. So, sure, I did it. Made a couple bucks and had a good laugh at their expense. Years later, as a high school student, the rumors were that I would show my boobs to anybody for a price. Kids can be brutal, hurtful creatures. Now, at nearly 60, I WISH somebody would pay to see my boobs – but I don’t get any requests any more, darn! Oh - and at my age, a dime just won't cut it!

First Post - What to Write

How the heck do you find something to write about and then put it to paper (or the computer screen, duh) in a way that makes others want to read it?

I wasn’t sure when I started what the answer to that question might be, so I just started typing away, hoping it would fall into place. Whether it has fallen into the correct place is up to you since the reader holds the power and always has, which makes the writer even more paranoid about the process.

There is some irony in that. As a writer, you are probably also an avid reader. What you read, when you read it, why you read it, is such a personal process.  As a writer, you tend to think in that same way – who is my reader, why would they read what I write and when would they opt for reading what I’ve written at the sacrifice of all other things they could be doing?

I don’t have an answer. I just know I want to write and hope what I’ve funneled through my brain cells out the tips of my fingers ultimately brings enjoyment to the brain cells of those who take a risk and read my blog. Looks like you’re a risk-taker – good for you! If you haven’t closed this blog yet, there may be hope you won’t until the end has been reached. At this point, I have no idea what that end may be...I find some comfort in that. I’ve always liked surprises.