July 31, 2020--National Get Gnarly, Dude Hey Dudes and Dudettes, Go catch some waves at your local recreational water spot. If that means the shore and hanging ten, then you are a real surfer dude. If that means hanging on a surfboard if you've never done it before--gnarly, man. If that means hanging onto your boogie board while riding the waves like totally macking, then cool, dude. If that means jumping off the diving board at your local pool and creating some double overhead, then do it. First started by the Whirlpool company in 2016, National Get Gnarly, Dude Day has come to mean a day to do something daring that you have never done before. A day dedicated to making waves. For some of us, it may mean making waves in our social circle or at the office. When I retired from school teaching, I was given the title of the "Employee Who Like to Go Rogue." It is a title I am proud of. The thing about going rogue is that going rogue for rogue's sake is never a good idea. I once went to an amusement park with a group of young women who sneaked beer inside the park, consumed it, and then rode roller coasters all night. A clear case of going rogue wrongly. We were of legal age, but certainly not of legal-aged mind. As if the coasters were not totally bitchin' enough, we had to enhance the thrill. So insidiously wrong. If you do choose to go get gnarly in your social set or in a business meeting, just make sure that you are making waves for the right reason. Remember, "Totally, Bitchin'!" means crazy wild waves, not what it sounds like. Here's a suggestion for the next time you are in a meeting and nobody's talking. When the speaker asks if there are any questions, and the meeting is about to be dismissed, raise your hand and ask a question. If you have to repeat everything the speaker just said by prefacing it with, "Are you saying that...," than so be it. Although if you can find some fine point to debate, all the better. One of two things will happen.
July 30, 2020--National Cheesecake Day
Many years ago, I took my kids to The Cheesecake Factory for a slice of free cheesecake. It took some finesse for me to make them understand that we were not going to to order a complete meal, but simply take part in the restaurant's free give away to celebrate National Cheesecake Day. It seemed beyond their comprehension skills to figure out why we would go to a nice restaurant and only order dessert, which was FREE. Their dad and I had done a terrible job of raising them. Always providing for their every need and never going out to sit-down restaurants except on special occasions when they had carte blanche to order whatever they liked, we pretty much sucked at teaching them the value of a dollar. Ordering food in sit-down restaurants up to that point was always precipitated by me saying, "The sky's the limit." But I like cheesecake. And it was July. And we needed an outing that would only cost next to nothing. So we went. We ordered drinks and free cheesecake. I am sure I gave our waitress a generous tip, and because we only had the cheesecake, for the first time ever, we did not need to carry out our leftovers in a doggy bag. Well that was then, and this is now. I cannot google far enough back to solicit what year the Cheesecake Factory offered free cheesecake on this day. You can get a slice of free cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory on your birthday, or earlier this month if you typed in "FREESLICE" with your online order. And today, the Cheesecake factory will donate one dollar for every slice of cheesecake sold to the Feed America program. Hey, that sounds good, but why only today? What's the point of National Cheesecake Day, anyway? Give food to the hungry, and you feed them for a day. Give a man a slice of cheesecake, and you feed his memories for a lifetime. July 29, 2020--National Lipstick Day I loved my grandma's house for all the reasons one can expect, but there is one reason that only Nanny and I know about that caused me to love it even more. Her house in 1964 was a typical ranch style home of its day, living room near the front, den in the back, with kitchen and dinning in between. Off of the kitchen was a long narrow hallway with bedrooms and the main bathroom jutting out from it. We kids were allowed to play in the "backroom," which always confused me as it was not the final room on the hallway. The final room, but which faced the front of the house was my grandparents bedroom and off of that, facing the back and the final room of the house, was the tiny private bathroom which more elegant homes of the day afforded. I would sometimes wander into their bedroom and look around. The most fascinating thing in the room to me was Nanny's dresser. I often fingered the objects on top of it, knowing I wasn't even supposed to be in there. There were hairbrushes, combs, and a handheld mirror. Various jars and creams were also there, but never much interesting to me. However, one day, the strangest thing was there, a stick of something that was striped like a rainbow in beautiful colors. Was it a toy? Was it a puzzle? Curiouser and curiouser, I picked it up and removed the top color. Underneath was something like a crayon, yet remarkably like what I had seen before. I began to unravel the whole thing. After the stick was torn apart, I tried to put it back together, but it would not stay. So, lacking the right thing to do, I did the wrong thing. I started to paint my own lips, just like I had seen my mother do on countless occasions. I was just finishing up when Nanny walked in and caught me. She was not pleased. And having her not pleased was about the worst thing in the world. And why would she not be pleased? I thought I looked wonderful. However, I was only three or four years old, and I'm sure my hand was wobbly and the application wonky. She led me to the tiny private bath, the one where only Grandpa was allowed. She washed my face and admonished me to stay out of the bedroom. I don't think she ever told anyone about my crime, but it happened more than once. Of all the items on her dresser, that 'lipstick' was the only one I ever coveted. Then one day, I went in search of something to do and entered her bedroom, and the 'lipstick' was not there. I guess she finally got smart and hid it away. She would have said, "There's more than one way to skin a cat, than to coat him in butter." But what that actually means is, "There's more than one way to keep your Avon Eye Shadow Wand intact, than to allow your grand daughter to coat her face in it." July 28, 2020--World Conservation Day
In 1970, we celebrated the first Earth Day by buying bags, pencil cases and school binders covered in cartoon drawings of the earth with friendly slogans, like, "Save Our Planet." My third grade school notebook was one of them. I no longer have it; I am guessing that it ended up in a land fill. Recently, my family and I visited a famous Texas swimming hole. The star of this story is our son, Muscles Malone (not his real name, but what we call him). We were cooling off on a fine summer day in the beautiful Perdernales River near Austin, Texas when he reached his hand down into the water and scooped out something awful, a clear gallon sized plastic bottle of mud and muck. "Hey, Mom, look what I found," he said. I glanced over at him and saw that he was holding something creepy and unidentifiable. Not willing to look at the thing dead on, I said, "Eehoooww! What is that?" It was a receptacle, but I was unsure if it had anything alive inside it. "Oh. It's just...-- Pollution," he said matter -of -factly. His scientific, modern reply caused us to chuckle. And me to think. His generation must look at the world with dead-on clarity. We may have started something in the 70's with our purchasing power, but his comrades are the ones who will be left with the hard work of cleaning the place up. "What should I do with it?" he asked, troubled and unsure. "Don't put it back in," we all said in unison. We made him swim to the shore hauling the wretched apparatus behind him. He left it there on the river bank, but at the end of the day, we walked back to where it was and took it to a trash can. It was quite a walk, and the jug was heavy, even after all of the water had been drained from it. While no where near the clean-up party that awaits us all, it is one of many small steps like this which will start the journey to a cleaner tomorrow. July 27, 2020--Creme Brulee Day
Today is National Creme Brulee Day. When the movie about Julia Childs came out few years back, I was inspired to do some French cooking. So, I bought one of her cook books and read it. That's as far as I got. I probably should not even admit this publicly, but I have recently discovered that I don't much care to cook. I have done plenty of it. I started at thirteen years old, preparing dinner for my family because my mom and dad got home from work late. It got me out of doing the dishes, but still. It was a lot for a young girl to take on, and it had not been my idea. But like anyone who initially discovers they are in charge of their own domain, I thought I liked cooking, at first. Now here I am, some forty-five years later, and I am just so done. This confession leads me to another one. I consider myself fairly well versed in hacking my way through life. If there is a shorter, faster route to accomplish something, I have either done it or thought of it. But I am not alone. What is really the essence of creme brulee, anyway? Is the custard or the burnt sugar crunch? Since the French translation of creme brulee is burnt custard, I lay odds that it is the burnt sugar crunch. I was already thinking of Dolly Pardon's 'Dumpa, Dumpa, Dumpa,' recipe from Steel Magnolias (the one where you just dump a bunch of stuff together) when I googled easy creme brulee. Why couldn't you just dump some prepared vanilla pudding in a pot for the beginning of creme brulee? Ain't nobody got time for standing over a stove and stirring eggs and creme to whatever is considered "just right" and then waiting for it to set in the refrigerator. However, someone over at ScaryMom.com had already beat me to thinking of this idea. So, I am here to tell you the hardest part of this recipe is locating all four of the ramekins that you simply know you have, but have never actually used for their intended purpose. Now is the time to collect them from the strange places they have found themselves--the water color brush cleaning tray, the small pet water bowl, and the ever odd and not stack-able cereal bowl stash. And then you simply follow the instructions:
July 26, 2020--Reek or Garland Sunday
Reek Sunday is not a day to clean your toilet, although I would never personally talk anyone out of it, cleaning your toilet that is. Rather, Reek, or Garland Sunday, is a tradition in Ireland that dates back 1500 years. According to fellow blogger, Bill Petro, St. Patrick, after fasting for forty days at the summit of Reek Mountain, threw a bell down the mountain side and banished all the serpents from Ireland. So, today's Pilgrims traditionally climb the mountain on the last Sunday in July, have mass at the summit, and then go to their local cafe for lunch with a side of pie for desert. However, due to covid-19, the traditional Reek Sunday has been officially cancelled. But, that does not stop anyone from climbing a mountain today in honor of Reek Sunday. Matter of fact, I'll bet some people are doing just that. The last Sunday of July is chosen as Reek Sunday in association with a festival which predates Christianity, 'Lughnasa,' which marked the beginning of the harvest season. Now just wait one cotton-picking minute here. Do you mean to tell me that Michael's and Hobby Lobby have been correct all along? They have their harvest crap, I mean crafts, set out for shoppers at the beginning of the harvest season, which is the end of July? Think it's time for me to climb that old mountain of a staircase up to my attic, and throw down a box of plastic maple leaves. July 25, 2020--Pioneer Day (in Utah)
When I was a kid I read every single book by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She is the gal responsible for the television series in the late 70's/early 80's know as "Little House on the Prairie." However, living On the Banks of Plum Creek, the book the series was largely based on, was not the only thing she wrote about. That was actually only one book and one small snippet in her eventful life. The television producers borrowed from her other books for the stories about the town of Plum Creek, but in reality her family was always on the move. She made crossing the open prairie in a Conestoga wagon or living in a hovel dug into the side of a hill seem fun. What would we do today, if we were met by some of the atrocities her family faced as they made new homes across the mid west?
July 23, 2020--Hot Enough for Ya Day
My hometown is just 2,000 miles north of the equator. Let's revisit our fourth grade geography, shall we? The equator is the part of the earth that is closest to the sun. We, who call Houston, Texas home, are just a short 30 hour drive to the equator. Of course, that calculation would involve driving across the Gulf of Mexico, which as of this writing is still impossible. Living in the tropics comes with its own set of special challenges. For example, depending on who you ask, there are only three seasons; hot, hotter, hottest. I, however, like to proclaim five seasons in Houston; spring, summer, tropical summer, Indian summer and Christmas. The main challenge, of course, is how to stay cool in a city of two million people that is so near to the sun. We use air-conditioning here like the rest of the world uses central heating. If I could advise any young person of what business/career to go into, it would be the air-conditioning business. Although, it is a business not meant for the faint of heart (and I do meant 'faint' and not 'feint'). Repairing broken and installing new HVAC systems requires spending time in people's attics, which typically have a lousy lack of air-conditioning. It could be a question on Jeopardy: A space hotter than your back garden during July in Houston. What is your attic, Alex. I have never understood why Houston does not have more architecture like what you see in the Arabian Nights movies and franchises. Lots of cool tile flooring, stuccoed walls, plenty of arches and breezeways between rooms. It might be possible to survive in a home like that with only a minimum of air-conditioning. Some day, I will build that house, complete with a lazy river running through it. Until, then, I'll just bide my time with sticking my head in the freezer while closing my eyes and visualizing Mt. Everest. July 23, 2020--National Refreshment Day Near the steps to the Lincoln Memorial, there are a few local business men hawking ice cold beverages. Or at least they were on the day my family and I visited in May of 2019. Like carnival barkers, they belted out, "Don't let dehydration ruin your vacation!" on an endless loop. It might be entirely possible to die from a parched thirst in a crowd of tourists. Sure, we packed water in our backpacks. But no matter how much water you can carry, it will not be enough for your body to survive a day in May in Washington. Nor probably anywhere else, for that matter. I know someone who has a Camelbak backpack. These are backpacks that hold nothing but water and come with a straw attached for the user to drink from whenever they want. I cannot use a Camelbak backpack. For starters, where would I put all of my stuff? Oh, sure, I know they have pockets, but I got a lot of stuff. Moreover, what kind of outfit would one of these fashion atrocities go with? Finally, I cannot carry an extra seven pounds of weight around all day, which is what it would take to hydrate me if the water liner were full. For people like me, the aforementioned business near our capitol's monuments was born-- overpriced water and soda in a vat of ice. On this National Refreshment Day, as on everyday, whether touring or not, go forth and hydrate. July 22, 2020 Lion's Share Day The stately stone lion statues sit outside the library regarding the world with resignation. They are guarding the wisdom of the ages contained within. Every time a library user exits the building, they are there to wish him well as he leaves. And when he returns the books he borrowed, the lions are there to share in his newly acquired knowledge, and to look at him with stoicism, as if to say, "We know." In 2018, my family and I visited the iconic 42nd Street New York City Library, at my insistence. There were not many tourists there, but there were plenty of New Yorkers. Although we could not check out any books as we are not residents of New York, we did buy some at the used library book sale that is apparently ongoing. And in the basement, we saw the original Christopher Robin's collection of stuffed animals. Quite an exciting day. I cannot imagine a world without libraries. Back at home in my local library, I am sometimes slightly appalled at people who return about fifty library books at once. Usually, it is a giant collection of children's books that they have borrowed. However, I must admit that it is my own faulty thinking. Who am I to judge someone for taking what is free, especially books? Their children will become avid readers and thus will do well in school. And one of those kids will be the doctor who cares for me in my old age. Finally, while it initially appears that some parents are borrowing the Lion's Share of the books, there is no Lion's Share of books in a library. What a strange, yet satisfying day it would be to drive up to a library and see a sign that read, "Library Closed. Out of Books." THE LION'S SHARE IN A PUBLIC LIBRARY IS AVAILABLE TO EVERYONE. So go today. To the library.* *Due to Covid-19, most libraries are checking out books through online reservation only. Check local listings. AuthorKaren Schwabenland--Keeper of a daily blog of written matter, reporter of events large and small, and charlatan extraordinaire July 21, 2020--National Junk Food Day The drive-thru at McDonald's is a happening spot. One summer in high school, I worked the lunch rush there, practicing my speaking skills, managing that microphone like a Boss. A friend named Cindy would get the order bagged up while I commandeered the soda fountain. We kept a bag of hot fries under the counter that we would eat between cars. We got our friends to drive thru as well. And in a small town, you could see just about everybody during the course of a week. Employees gathered there. It was a good place to hide from the bosses. The manager knew this, however, and often cleared the place out by telling us that we were not getting paid to stand around. Every so often, our junior assistant manager would pop in and tell the customer to go to Dairy Queen down the street. He always claimed they had been belligerent when this happened, but we knew he was just jealous of our drive-thru skills. As far as I know, there was never any spitting on burgers as they cooked, although that was always the rumor, or in one cook's case, the threat. Perhaps these things are why fast food is considered junk food. Not only is it high in fat (but so is much other, fancier restaurant food), but it is largely prepared and presented by our nation's youth in their first jobs ever. And prepared and presented pretty poorly because--you know. Kids do dumb sh*t. July 20, 2020 Global Hug Your Kids Day
One of the inherent designs of babies is that they liked to be held. It makes it easier for them to eat, for one thing. One night recently I was unable to sleep because I could not remember the last time I held my daughter. I don't mean hugged my daughter, but held her. I was looking at some old photographs, and I remembered the baby sling I used when she was an infant. It is the method favored by many cultures the world over. Only in America do we buckle our babies into plastic tubs that we are then forced to carry inside restaurants, grocery stores, or wherever it is that we are going. These infant carriers cause all kinds of back problems for the parent, as he or she is forced to carry the child like a suitcase with no wheels. The infant sling reinforces the natural closeness of parent and child, and it uses force and resistance innate in body to body contact that can save the parent's back. I used my infant sling for a good long time. Longer than was probably recommended on the product's packaging. Eventually, the older toddler will want to walk on his own but also want to get carried when necessary. And then the child keeps growing. It becomes unfeasible to carry them at a certain point. They are just too big. This fact led me to my night of not sleeping. What was that point in time when my child was just too big to be carried? What was literally the final time I carried her? I know I didn't appreciate that it was the last time because like so many last things in life, we don't know it is the final time of something until that something is only just a memory. On this Global Hug Your Child Day, I advise all new parents to purchase an infant sling. There will be days and days of hugging your child, for the rest of your life. The love you have for each other will never stop. However, you will mourn for the days when all you had to do to keep your child safe and put his world back in order was to simply carry him around. You will be glad that you did. And your back will thank you. July 19, 2020--National Stick Out Your Tongue Day
For the love of all that is holy, please. Just Make It Stop. What I am talking about here is a chronic condition these days that our young people have. Photographictongueooutofmouthia. It seems that given any roomful of young 'uns and someone with a camera, that is to say--everyone, and the subjects of the photographs, which is to say--everyone, will pose in the most ridiculous manner possible. The number one facial expression our young people plaster on their mouths in photographs is to hang their tongues outside of them like yippy, yappy, hungry lapdogs, vying for a treat or a bite of human food from their owners. Jack London, author of Call of the Wild, described the way a dog will pant with its tongue hanging out in a contented expression of happiness as 'laughter.' I have, from time to time, asked my own canine friend, "What is so funny?" To which he usually replies with just more laughter. No wonder dog is man's best friend. They really know how to cheer you up. And their tongue is a natural part of that process. On the otherhand, youth of America, you are not cheering anyone up by posing for pictures on your phones with your tongues hanging out of your mouths. Your antics have the opposite effect. They make us Boomers sad and worried. Please keep your tongue inside of your mouth while in public. The only person who should see it, besides your significant other, is your doctor. July 18, 2020--National Strawberry Rhubarb Wine Day What is the deal with rhubarb? Looking like red celery, its name sounds like what a drag queen would trade with a female stripper. It doesn't grow in the deep South without a whole lot of care and concern, so I can easily dismiss it as a fruit of little consequence. However, it is actually a vegetable. But other than pumpkin, can you think of a pie that is made with a vegetable? An impressive number of pies are made with rhubarb. (By the way, is the plural rhubarbs?) Rhubarb is most often mixed with strawberries to form a pie. I had a piece of a strawberry rhubarb pie once and was sadly disappointed. Why this need to mix? Is it because strawberries are the superior fruit and therefore, more expensive? Does making half of a strawberry pie out of rhubarb save the strawberries? Why do strawberries need saving? I like a good salad with strawberries in it, like the one that Wendy's has available from time to time. However, given the choice, I would much rather have my strawberries in a pie. And since in a pie is a whole lot easier than intravenously, let's just stick with the pie. So, in time of war or famine, I can see why trying to hide a few rhubarb(s) inside a strawberry pie would be a good thing. But in our land of plenty, there is no discernable reason to plant, harvest, and eat a rhubarb. Since we celebrate it today, some rube must once have had the bright idea of making a wine out of strawberries and rhubarb. How about we leave the rhubarb in the garden and make the wine out of only strawberries? Wait. How about we make the wine out of grapes, eat the strawberries in a pie, and leave the rhubarb to wither? I imagine there might be some bunnies about who would not mind a bit if we did. AuthorKaren Schwabenland--Keeper of a daily blog of written matter, reporter of events large and small, and charletan extraordinaire World Emoji Day--July 17th, 2020
Hey, Boomers, does anyone remember the annoying, psychotically happy little yellow smiley face of our childhood? It was on everything back then, T-shirts, buttons, toys, pillows, and even drugs. Newspapers used to print it between columns when they did not have enough text. According to Smithsonian Magazine, it was created in 1963 and has served as the symbol for just about everything:
July 16th, 2020--Guinea Pig Appreciation Day
Dear Sprinkles, When I think back to that one weekend you were allowed to come home to our house from the school room, I am glad I did not find you going all 'Buzz Lightyear' on us. You never had too much Darjeeling tea when you were forced to play Mrs. Nesbitt. And thank gosh, "Marie Antoinette and her headless little sisters" did not show up, as the boy who lived in our house was no where like Syd. In short, we loved you, Sprinkles. Your memory is a blessing to us. Go easy and rest in peace. July 15th, 2020--National Respect Canada Day
Oh, Canada. If ever there was a country in need of respect, it is you. Are you a part of the Brittish Empire or not? Do your people speak French or English? Are your winters better than your summers? Is your healthcare and college really free? Everything is different in Canada. For example, people can just willynilly decide to overstay in someone else's booked hotel room. Like at the end of someone's stay, he can just say he is sick, and therefore will not be able to move out of the room. So, then when foreigners in the guise of U.S. citizens arrive on time for their previously reserved room, they are the ones who are turned away, rather coldly. Point blank. No other rooms available. The hotel is Not sorry. Find yourselves another room, you U.S. chumps. This state of affairs is where my family found ourselves during our trip to Canada. Our rejection at the hands of Canadians is most likely the result of their free healthcare. Citizens there have just come to expect free stuff by reporting that they are sick. It garners them extra days in their hotel room. I wouldn't be surprised it this portion of their stay was also free for them since the hotel is providing a sort of healthcare. Something else different about Canada is that when you purchase something and pay with U.S. currency, you get back something called "change," and "exchange." The change is what you would expect to get back from the twenty that you used to purchase a twelve dollar made-in-China Niagara Falls snow globe, which you will need to wrap in mounds of dirty clothing and stuff in your suitcase for your flight home. On the other hand, the exchange is something impossible to cipher. Basically the store clerk gives you back a handful of Candadian coins with every purchase and says something in French about the exchange rate. I still find these Canadian coins in my wallet from time to time and more mysteriously, in the car change holder. Choose, Canada. Make up your mind as to who you are. You are the other woman to our Uncle Sam. You will never be his rightful wife or the mother of his heirs. You are the one they visit from time to time, and the one they run to when they are afraid. July 14, 2020--PANDEMONIUM DAY
Greetings from the capital of Hell--Pandemonium. Today is our birthday. We are 353 years old. No, this intro is not a cheesy imitation of a gothic rocker. First coined by John Milton in Paradise Lost in 1667 as the name of the capital of hell, 'pandemonium' means chaos and disorder everywhere. Avoiding the obvious reference to the state of our country at present, I would instead like to focus on John Milton, himself, or what I remember most about him. I took a course on John Milton in college. We read both Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. A difficult course in that you had no idea how you were doing in it until you got your grade back at the end. I dutifully read and completed all the work on the syllabus. I visited the college library often, and one day near the end of term, I ran into a girl who was in my class, but that I had only seen once--on the first day. I was studying for the upcoming final in the Milton course when she sat down across from me. I had my textbook open. She slapped a copy of Cliff's Notes--Paradise Lost on the table. I looked up at her and said, "Are you ready for the final?" "No. That's why I brought this," she said pointing to the Cliff's Notes. "Have you already finished all the reading?" I asked. "Oh, I don't do any of the reading. I just refer to this." Again she pointed at the Cliff's Notes. I didn't want to accuse her of anything, but I had been told by every English professor I ever had that using Cliff's Notes or anything similar was akin to admitting your own stupidity. As an English major, I listened and followed this mandate carefully. Mentioning Cliff's Notes in class, or worse, bringing a copy with you, was tantamount to writing your own epitaph. This practice served me well-- I never received a paper back that was not grossly marked up. However, for my my first day of class only pal--not so much. True to form, she showed up to the final, albeit late. It alarmed the rest of us when she entered and the professor said, "What are you doing here?" "I came to take the final." "You were only here on the first day of class. I dropped you months ago!" She registered shock on her face before she turned to leave. I'm sure inside her brain was all sorts of pandemonium. But she wasn't alone. When we opened our test booklets, there was only one line at the top, followed by about fifty sheets of lined, blank paper. Explain God. Use John Milton. On that day, every student in the room searched fruitlessly through unexplored regions of their brains that were filled with nothing but pandemonium. And no Cliff's Notes would have helped. July 13, 2020--International Town Criers Day
Hear ye! Hear ye! Today is International Town Criers Day! Be advised that an honor to your local town crier in the form of a gift or small token of appreciation is in order! Hear ye! Hear ye! Today is also Gruntled Workers Day and National French Fry Day! Be advised that today all gruntled workers shall head to a local fast food restaurant during lunch and order french fries! They shall then proclaim to the fast food workers, "Thanks. Your service is fast. Have a nice day!" Hear ye! Hear ye! Today is also Beans and Franks, National Beef Tallow, Barbershop Music, and Go West Day! Be advised that all citizens shall report to the town square this evening at six o'clock sharp to eat beans and franks prepared in beef tallow provided by "Frank's Bean Boutique, Bar, and Burly Ballyhoo" while listening to barbershop music and facing west! Hear ye! Hear ye! Citizens who cannot find their own town square shall remain at home, prepare their own beans and franks, and practice squaring their numerals! Hear ye! Hear ye! All citizens shall furthermore refrain from naming or nominating any more national days, and our government shall no more abide by, hold faith in, or in anyway honor or acknowledge any more international days that are not already on the calendar, henceforth, onward, and ever after. Hear ye! Hear ye! Finally and forthwith, having made public all announcements for this day of our Lord, July 13, 2020, with "malice toward none and with charity to all," May God protect and preserve the Constitution of the United States of America! Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler' Henry David Thoreau July 12, 2020--National Simplicity Day The idea of simple living and an uncomplicated lifestyle has been around at least since the 1850's when Henry David Thoreau, the father of all hippies and forward thinking, decided to spend time alone near Walden Pond. However, I wonder if the search for a simple life started sometime before that. Was the expansion Westward in America really just a quest to get out of the cluttered and busy city? Was the fall of the Roman Empire in part just a call for more simplicity in the government? Perhaps managing all those wars and prisoners and corruption just got to be too much for Emperor Romulus Augustulus, and invading armies took advantage of the chaos inside the empire. Going back even further, did cavewomen sweep their caves clean each spring to disentangle the winter's ravages and start fresh? If there are indeed "no new ideas under the sun," is the search for simplicity a search for the antithesis of that statement? I am all for simplicity in a home, where appropriate. There is a multi-million dollar business devoted to this idea. But if I dig deeper, and think about what simplicity actually means, I come up with this thought which is not really mine at all, but belongs to Mr. Robert Browning. "God is in his heaven, and all is right with the world." We don't need to spend time alone at a picturesque lake or purchase any kind of simplicity movement dogma, books or paraphernalia. All we really need to do is repeat this as our mantra, everything is as it is and as it should be--ordained by God (my paraphrase). That, my friends, makes life just about as simple as it gets.
July 11th, 2020--International World Population Day
When I first read that today is International World Population Day, I breathed a sigh of relief. Whoosh. I just barely made it. I mean I have done my share, fair and square. I have, consecutively, 29 and 21 years ago, safely delivered a healthy boy and a healthy girl unto the world. I have done my part to populate my little corner. But then I began to read about International World Population Day and I realized that just populating the world is not what it is entirely about. It is entirely about how all of us are going to live safely and healthily on our planet, to say nothing of happily. Technically, there are tons of research and data on this topic. However, one thing they all share is that there will not be enough resources to cover us in the future. International World Population Day is about people, births, deaths, mothers, fathers, families, poverty, and education. I advise you to google International World Population Day. You will be led to the United Nations website and a scary document titled, "State of the World Population 2020." A short scan will show you additional articles on the same old abuses and problems that have hung around for decades. Actually, I don't advise you to do this search. It proves to be quite depressing. Come to think of it, I'm kind of against these international days from the United Nations. Addtional research on the United Nations website reveals that the purpose of international days, such as International World Population Day (a kind of redundant title) is to promote eduation about a problem, garner political support and resources for said problem, and "to celebrate and reinforce the achievements of humanity." O.K., United Nations--WHERE IS THAT LAST THING HAPPENING? If you are going to mark a day as something important, it kinda, sorta looks like a holiday on any given calendar. What kind of holiday is International World Population Day? Where is the party to celebrate the achievements of world population? All I know is this world is a pretty big place, and no matter where I go, it is already too crowded--too crowded at the beach, too crowded at the park, too crowded at the grocery store, the bank, everywhere. The only place not too crowded is my own home, and with two adult kids living at home because colleges are currently closed due to Covid-19, that is a little bit too crowded, too. Ever wonder what International World Population Day is all about? Well, now you know. Want to know what can be done about it? Stop making babies. Well, that's not going to happen. But some of the problems associated with making babies in the third world, and some in the first world as well, could be addressed. It just takes the right amount of support from all of us. Today is International World Population Day. May the good Lord save us all. July 10, 2020--National Pina Colada Day
Back in my Hey Day, before marriage and children and jobs and houses and all manner of adulting, I used to sometimes go out with friends after work or rehearsal (I was a theater major in college). I became a Pina Colada connoisseur. It was my preferred drink of choice because even though I was of legal age to drink, I could not hold my liquor. You could almost certainly count on any bartender to put very little booze in such a frothy, tasty liquid. I liked it for other reasons, as well. There was the possibility that it might be better for me to stay sober. For example, I might have to drive myself home. I might have to work the next day. There might have been wolves around the bar waiting to take advantage of me. But more often than not, I chose the Pina Colada because it was thick and fortifying. That may sound ridiculous, but as a part-time worker, full time college student, I was constantly in need of funds. Constantly. And getting to sit at the table meant drinking with the mob. So instead of ordering fries and burger with water on the side, I would order the pineapple (fruit) and coconut (milk) delight. And I swear they put ice-cream in it. Or so it seemed. I don't endorse this method of nutrition; I am just sayin; there are worse things I could have done. And now all these years later, I am enthralled because my drink of choice now has its own national day. So...cheers! July 9, 2020--National No Bra Day
July 9th is the original No Bra Day which was started to encourage and remind women to get their mammograms. First observed in 2011, it soom changed to October 13th to coexist with Breast Cancer Awareness Month. So, ladies, this shedding of our undergarments could actually be celebrated twice a year. However, in this year of Covid-19, it might be more appropriate to call for a national day of wearing a bra because I KNOW there are many of us who have not opened the drawer containing our bras in months. What's the point, right? In these days of getting dressed up to go to the grocery store, I would like to encourage everyone to schedule their mammogram. Let my own story serve as a warning. In 2009, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in July. My mammogram had been scheduled in April, but for a variety of reasons, I rescheduled in July and "BAM!" at that July meeting of the machine and my boobs, it was determined that I had breast cancer. Would they have found it if I had gone as planned in April to get a mammogram? I will never know. As awful as the procedure is, it is better than the alternative of going through breast cancer treatments. I am just waiting for the equivalent men's procedure to be invented. What if they could detect testicular cancer by a similar method? July 8, 2020--Family Day in the Ukraine
I hope that families today in the Ukraine get the day off from work. And I hope that they can get outdoors and enjoy the sunshine and with their extended families where the menfolk (because it is the Ukraine) will gather around the barrel shaped barbeque pits and drink beer sitting in chairs that each family has brought with them from home. Meanwhile the womenfolk will putter in and out of the kitchen, setting the tables, putting out pickles, tossing the coleslaw, arranging plates of pierogies, kolaches, and bean salad. And the children will play chase and hide-and-go-seek, and baseball, if one of them has brought a bat and ball. They will surreptiously grap homemade cookies when no one is watching and then declare they are not hungry when everyone finally sits down to eat. They will eventually go off on their own to play secretive games like " I Spy" and "Truth or Dare". When it is almost dusk, they will return to find one their family's collection of four lawn chairs smashed and discarded. They will ask too loudly what happened and be told to shush, and then that Uncle Buck sat in it and broke it. They will then forever wonder why a man as large as Uncle Buck thought he could fit in one the families collection of four lawn chairs. It will not be until they are grown up and older that they will come to understand that Uncle Buck probably had too much to drink that day. They will be resentful of this distant uncle as their family never bothered to replace the broken lawn chair, and the yougest child will forevermore be expected to sit upon the ground at summer outings where the lawn chairs are involved--which she does do without complaint until the one time when her parents take her to an outdoor performance of "Oklahoma," by Rodgers and Hammerstein where she promptly falls asleep on the blanket they have brought for her to sit upon. She dreams that the play is over, and her family has left her there behind. It will haunt her, always. July 7, 2020--World Chocolate Day
Mrs. Knapp had a smile that took up half of her face. I always wanted a smile like hers. And her hair was always done up in a bun. In fifth grade, she was my Language Arts teacher, and when we weren't busy filling in blanks in a workbook, she read to us. Sometime that year, she introduced us to Raold Dahl in the guise of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (released as the movie, "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," in 1971). We were mesmerized. Imagine a boy who lived with four grandparents who slept all day in a bed, feet to feet. Crazy, yet completely possible in the way in which it was described by Mr. Dahl. Sometime later that year, my brother and I saw the preview to the movie when my mother had taken us to a matinee of some sort. We begged her to bring us back to see it. She dismissed our pleas. And I now know why. She didn't know Roald Dahl. The previews of Willie Wonka were like nothing any of us had seen before--a kid blown up to look like an over-ripe blueberry, strange little men who sang an even stranger song, life-size candy flowers surrounded by a chocolate river. We never did get to see "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" in a movie theatre. Some years later, I watched it on television. The movie begins with children from all over the world winning tickets to tour a magical chocolate factory. And it must have been a truely magical factory because it produced the best chocolate the world over. So on this day of celebrating World Chocolate, I am scrambling around my kitchen trying to find something comparable with no luck. Think I'll go out later and search for the golden ticket. |
AuthorKaren Schwabenland--Keeper of a daily blog of written matter, reporter of events large and small, and charlatan extraordinaire Archives
September 2022
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