HAAA or How Annoying Are Acronyms?

     HOAA (how annoying are acronyms)?  You see them everywhere.  They RTUH (rear their ugly heads) in all types of CC (correspondence and communication), so much so, that I keep an AI (acronym index) on my desk next to my ED (emoticon directory), so that IKWPATA  (I know what people are talking about) and WETAE (what emotions they are experiencing).  WTF!  (what the fudge!).

     SAO (sometimes acronyms overlap), meaning two or three phrases PTSA (possess the same acronym), LMRC (leaving me really confused), a confusion that has NTDWD (nothing to do with dementia).  In these modern times, PCCI (people can communicate instantaneously), but NOK (no one knows) what anyone else ITA (is talking about).  Additionally, peoples' ATS (ability to spell) diminishes exponentially with EPD (every passing day).  LINATM! (Life is not a text message!).  SIO!  (spell it out!)  TI,IYKH...(that is, if you know how...)  Sarcastic, I know.  But my readers are FA (fully aware) that I am a SpSn (spelling snob). 

     WIB (while I'm bitching), and NTBR (not to be redundant), an Email is NAC! (not a conversation!).   IAL! (It's a letter!)  I sometimes find it VD (not what you're thinking-Very Difficult-this is another of those overlapping acronyms I was telling you about) to access, read, or print my Emails.  I used to be able to open them in a PUW (pop up window), as if I were OAL (opening a letter), but that is NLP (no longer possible) because the Email is POAC (part of a conversation).  HF (Heaven forbid) that I should need to VAE (view an Email) that was PR (previously received).  I am CC (completely clueless-as opposed to correspondence and communication) then.  I think someone should invent TFOP (technology for old people).  Given the EHN (extraordinarily high numbers) of BB (Baby Boomers), there is DAM (definitely a market).  DYA? (don't you agree?)  It's the young people who are ITM (in the minority).  MSI (my son insinuates) that I don't have a HF (huge following) OMB (on my blog) because people in my age group DNWABI (don't know what a blog is).  I daresay-HR! (he's right!)

    I know IMBGO (I must be getting old), because my patience for the YG (younger generation) DD (not Dunkin-diminishes daily).  IMY (In my youth) INT (I never thought) I would mimic my MG (mother's generation), but that day has come, and ATQ (all too quickly).  HG (Her generation) used to think the seventies WB (were bad), and ATT (no, not the phone company-at the time) I could not fathom why.  I can't BTI (begin to imagine) what they would think if they were OTW (of this world) now.  BIDUTT  (But I do understand their thinking).  Ah, TBYA... (to be young again...)

     Now, imagine if the only way to read this entire post was to revert back to an AI (acronym index) in order to comprehend what I am trying to say.  Daunting, isn't it? And tedious?  YB! (You betcha!)

"Let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other, so we can have some conversation."*

*Mark Twain

Free Range Children

     So, a couple in Washington, DC is under investigation for neglect because they allow their 10 and 6 year old children to walk to and play in the local park by themselves.  The children, and others like them, are deemed “free range”.  I love this new term “free range children” (not!). It sounds more like a description of non-Perdue chickens as opposed to children.  Who comes up with this stuff?

     When I was a young adult, we had latchkey kids.  When I was a child, however, I was on my own.  Period.  The chief of police lived next door to us, yet no one ever accused my parents of neglect.

     I attended grammar school on the other side of the city I lived in, a 30 minute ride on the public service bus that I rode daily. The year was September of 1960. I remember being a kindergartner, age 5, and my father taking me on the bus, showing me where to get on and off, and how to navigate the various intersections that were necessary for me to cross.  I used to arrive so early that the school doors were locked, prohibiting access.  The weather didn’t matter.  I patiently, or impatiently, waited outside, sometimes for an hour.  Was that considered parental neglect?  No.  My parents fostered my independence out of necessity, because they had to go to work and they had no other choice.  I imagine they would never have gotten away with it in these times.

     The street I grew up on was busy, even in the early sixties.  It was the main drag, which cut across the entire city, like the scoring on a loaf of French bread.  Our house was located at the top of a small incline, and my father taught me to cross there, where I had clear visibility, rather than where I actually got off of the bus, at the bottom, which was also an intersection.  I learned very young to be cautious.

     I was not allowed to have a key to the house at that time, and was compelled to wait on the front steps for my mother to come home from work. (Are you noticing a pattern here? I spent a good portion of my childhood just waiting!)  On one occasion, I had to go to the bathroom so badly, that I went behind the house, lifted my skirt, and peed in the woods.  Luckily, child protective services (and predators) were not around.  That little incident landed me a key, however, leading to another learning experience.  My folks instructed me never to enter the house if anything looked amiss, in case the house was ever broken into.  That taught me, at a very young age, to be aware of my surroundings.  Upon arrival, I would take off my uniform, place it on a hanger, and hang it on the bathroom doorknob, because that was all that I could reach.  I would have a snack, and then start my homework, never getting into any mischief while my parents were not there.  They taught me to be neat, disciplined, and obedient.

     In the summer, I was often home all day, every day, by myself.  I slept late, and watched TV until my folks arrived home from work.  Have I mentioned that we did not have smoke or carbon monoxide detectors?  I doubt they even existed at that time. 

     Currently, it appears that, increasingly, busybody people stick their noses where they don’t belong.  People despise children who misbehave in public places, yet report people who would discipline their children to the authorities.  People condemn those who keep their children in the house in front of the TV all day, yet report people like the folks in DC, for allowing and encouraging their children to be outside, for teaching them to cross the street, and to be independent.  No matter what folks do as parents, there will always be some non-expert waiting to condemn them.  Quite frankly, I think people should mind their own business.

                              My beloved father, and teacher. I love him to the moon and back:

                                                       

                                              

Canine Cuspid, or Lack Thereof

     I recently noticed that Buddy, my chocolate Lab, had a funky smell about him.  Initially, I thought perhaps he had stepped in some dog mess outside, but there was no physical evidence of that.  Then, as I was lying on the couch (one of my favorite pastimes), he approached and subsequently breathed on me!  The offensive odor was coming from his mouth!  In a shocking and worrisome deja vu, I remembered by beautiful yellow Lab, Holly, who, years before, had the same rotten odor emanating from her mouth.  She had cancer-of the tongue-and was gone within the week.  The Vet indicated that he hadn't seen that condition in a dog in twenty three years!  How traumatic it was, especially knowing we would have to put her down.  My brave son, who was just eighteen at the time, took her for me, and stayed with her, as I couldn't do it.  I still miss her...

     I hurriedly made an appointment with our Vet, and, much to my relief, Buddy's bad breath was merely caused by a cracked and infected tooth, which would require oral surgery to be removed.  I scheduled his appointment for the day after Christmas.  As with humans, he was not allowed to have anything to eat or drink after midnight. He stared at me in puzzlement that entire morning.  I explained it to him, but I don't think he was listening...

      Big "scaredy-dog" that he is, Buddy hides behind me whenever anyone approaches.  On that day, a look of shear terror crossed his face when he realized I was leaving him with the Vet.  "Maternal" guilt kicked in, and I left there feeling dejected, but aware that what I was doing was in his best interest.  The surgery was done in a number of hours, and I picked him up at suppertime.  

     The Vet indicated that Buddy might experience difficulty navigating stairs due to the anesthesia.  Have I mentioned his weight?  Ninety three pounds!  And that we inhabit a second floor apartment?  Fortunately for me, he was just a little wobbly, and also highly motivated to return to his personal love seat.  We ascended the stairs without a hitch.  

     Buddy's diet was restricted to soft foods for two weeks.   I have always given him dry food, so the canned dog food was like going from a diet of  stale bread and water to steak tartare and Dom Perignon.  He required no encouragement to eat.  

     It's been three weeks now.  Buddy has had his follow up visit with the Vet, and is doing fine.  His gums have healed nicely, and the funky smell is completely gone.  It was well worth the nearly one thousand dollars that it cost me.  He is such a good dog, and I love him so much.  Hopefully, that canine "old man" will be with me for years to come.

                                                                  "Me and Buddy"

                                                                "Holly and Brandy"

Fearless

     As a Catholic and a Christian, I am offended by those who would take Christ out of Christmas, as, I am sure, are many other Christians.  The difference between us and a percentage of some members of other religions, is that we Christians don't opt to slaughter en masse those who do not support our views, or who demean our beloved Lord.  Christians are taught to pray for our "enemies", not massacre them.

    To say that I am appalled by the recent vicious terrorist attacks in Sydney and Paris would be a gross understatement.  I am particularly disturbed by the execution of the French policeman, Ahmed Merabet, a Muslim, who was simply doing his job.  People who kill and terrorize in the name of God love to kill,  terrorize, and exert control.  They merely use the name of God to justify their distorted lust for the blood of the innocent.  It is that lust that propels them to arbitrarily kill, even their own. 

    I will forever remember  the images of distraught people waiting for the arrival of doomed Pan Am Flight 103 in December 1988.  It is my first recollection of terrorism.  The memory of watching the news, with my baby in my arms, crying for the victims and their relatives, is vivid still.  I am saddened by countless other acts of terrorism that have occurred since.  The murder of children and teachers in Pakistan recently was a despicable act.  I heard on the news that some female teachers were burned alive.  What could possibly justify such a horror?  Most recently, the image of French policeman Ahmed Merabet lying on the ground with his hands up in surrender will be forever seared in my memory, as will images of our Towers and the planes that struck them, or innocent hostages in coffee shops and supermarkets running in fear from those who would harm them. 

     With today's technology, and the ability to see and hear anything online instantaneously,  I imagine that those who would choose to intimidate and terrorize are enjoying the graphic images of their handiwork.  I wonder if sensationalizing their heinous acts is encouraging and gratifying them.   I feel it is now more important than ever to collectively strive for a peaceful coexistence amongst all the peoples of the world.  Otherwise-where will all of this end?  Are we destined to be forever enmeshed in a climate of hatred and killing?  I have only to think of my children, and the grandchildren that I hope to have one day.  I want them to inhabit a world in which they do not have to fear getting on a plane, going to school or work, seeing a movie, or stopping to buy a cup of coffee. 

     In my youth, I was fearless.  I considered myself privileged to live and to raise my children in the safest country in the world, naively believing that nothing could touch us.  Having witnessed increasing acts of terrorism, not only worldwide, but within my own country, has been both traumatic and foreign to me.  I could not be more shocked than I am over the recent beheading of a woman in her place of employment-in Oklahoma!  She was not even the intended victim, any more than  Ahmed Merabet was.

     As a parent, I worry incessantly about the safety and well being of my family.  Now, however, in addition to the normal parental worries, there are the added worries of radicals who could possibly take members of my precious family from me. In my opinion, we should utilize modern technology to promote love and respect for one another, and tolerance for those who are different, be it in views, religious beliefs, appearance, or nationality.  The time is now- before any more innocent people are executed.

Blog Evoluton

     After nearly three years, my blog has not exactly turned out as I had expected, or originally intended.  Initially, it was meant to be a parody of my college experiences as a semi-senior citizen.  There is not always enough material to write about in that vein however, so the blog has branched out to cover various other aspects of my life, including my failed attempts at internet dating, my love of movies, my opinions and pet peeves, and life experiences in general.  Pursuing a college education remains an important goal, however, as I am slowly, but surely, closing in on a 2 year degree.   I am currently taking the dreaded government and politics courses that I had procrastinated about, having earned an "A" in the first course, and having the second course scheduled for the upcoming semester.  Quite frankly, I surprised myself by earning that "A", as I absolutely detest politics.  The amount of material was often overwhelming, and I was very skeptical about my abilities in the beginning, as I always am, actually.  At times, wanted to throw in the towel, as the challenge was daunting.  I persevered, though, as this goal is so important to me.  I have made it a priority, and I am determined not to  allow other challenges that I face to interfere with it.  I long for the day when I will be attired in cap and gown, with my sons in attendance as I receive my diploma.  As I receive Emails from the college on the topic of graduation, I am keenly aware that this particular goal is well within my reach, looming ever closer on my horizon.  I expect my graduation will coincide with my eligibility for Social Security.  I'm sure there won't be many in my graduating class able to boast that claim!  Perhaps I will reward myself by retiring!

Resolutions vs. Goals

     I am no longer in the habit of making New Year's resolutions.  I did in my youth, a lifetime ago.  Some of my successful and not so successful resolutions included quitting smoking, drinking less, going to the gym regularly, walking away from a bad relationship.  I have been successful at three of the four, some more than once.  

     I stopped smoking on my oldest son's fifth birthday, nearly thirty years ago.  Of course, it took numerous attempts before I found success.  I also stopped drinking around the same time.  Not that I had a problem-I just went through the youthful phase that most of us experience.  Having children brought that to a screeching halt.  Now I wouldn't touch alcohol if I was paid to.  I am determined to have full control of my faculties at all times, as I remember all too well how drinking to excess hampers one's judgement.

     On relationships, I've walked away from more than I can remember, now living a life of solitude and unbridled independence that I savor, rather like a gourmet meal that I am experiencing for the first time.  I have grown accustomed to being alone, in more ways than one.  It is strange how life changes, and changes me as I grow older.  My priorities have shifted.

     Regarding going to the gym-that is one resolution I have never kept for any length of time, although I was quite disciplined about walking for many years.  Now, however...not so much. 

     What I have done differently for the past five years or so, is to set goals for myself.  Granted, setting goals is something I probably should have started a very long time ago, but then, I always was a late bloomer.  My recent goals have consisted of employment and financial goals, educational goals,  a focus on my writing, and more recently, retirement goals.  Some of my goals that I've set have already been realized, like landing a  job, paying off credit cards, and having gone back to college.  (While  I haven't earned my degree yet, I am well on my way).  My writing has suffered, however,  as juggling work, a commute, and studying, leaves me depleted, both mentally and physically.  That is why I have incorporated increased writing into this year's list.  In years past, I was writing three blog posts per week and poetry on a near daily basis, in addition to my papers for school.  Slowly but surely, that has fallen by the wayside, as I succumb to exhaustion in my free time, having become engaged in a very satisfying love affair with my sofa.  I hardly even write in my journal any more.  However, I mean to change that this year, and revert back to doing that which I love.  The joy of writing sustains me, in good times as well as bad.  Most likely, it will never be a career, but hey, you never know.  I recently read of an eighty six year old woman who was published for the first time, having taken five years to write a novel.  I guess there's hope for me yet!

"Ambiguous Movie Dialogue"

     Watching movies brings me such joy.  There is so much more to them than mere entertainment value.  No matter how many times I've seen a movie (and I believe it's necessary to see a movie multiple times), there is always some new detail to discover and marvel over.  I am now it the habit of deciphering the films I watch, looking for, and often finding, subtle visual effects, obscure details, or the double entendre, which I will touch on now.  I wonder if you can guess what movies these ambiguous lines come from:

1. "Just think how happy your husband will be".

2. "I'm sure his generosity is well represented by his surviving partner".

3.  "You know this city is full of hawks?   That's a fact.  They hang around on top of all the big hotels, and they spot a pigeon in the park...right down on them".

4. "Though you need kissing-badly.    That's what's wrong with you.  You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how".

5. "Just tell them about the end.  It's the part everybody remembers".

6.  "The pleasure does not lie in the end itself.  It's the pleasurable steps to that end".

Answers:

1.  The Painted Veil:  Mother Superior to Kitty Fane on her pregnancy.  Would her husband be happy or not?  It could go either way... I recommend that you see this wonderful film to find out why.

2.  Scrooge:  The humanitarians seeking donations from Scrooge to feed the poor and destitute.  He clearly demonstrated that he was as stingy and uncaring as his deceased partner.

 3. On the Waterfront:  Terry Malloy to Edie Doyle.  Was he talking about actual hawks and pigeons, or the mobsters that hit on stool pigeons?  Consider the opening scene, where Edie's brother was pushed off of a rooftop.

4.  Gone With the Wind:  Rhett Butler to Scarlett O'Hara.  I never thought I was too terribly naive, but I was wrong.  I didn't get the hidden meaning in this line until recently. 

5.  A Summer Place:  Molly Jorgenson to Johnny Hunter on King Kong, or was it ???

6.  Sayonara:  Hana-Ogi to Lloyd Gruver.  She was referring to a Japanese Tea Ceremony-allegedly.

     This is just a sampling, as I am sure there are loads of examples.  If you can provide an example, leave a comment., and I will do the same as I discover more.  Meanwhile, watch a favorite movie for the second or third time, opening yourself up to a world of discovery about the incredible detail involved in its creation.

"Term of Endearment"

    It really bugs me when people say "I could care less", which means I could care less, as opposed to "I couldn't care less", which means I could not care less.  Another example is when someone says drive safe, versus drive safely.  One stands a better chance of staying safe by driving safely. 
     I have always made it abundantly clear that spelling accuracy is very important to me, meaning I  could care less about the subject.  I am  of the opinion that, if spelling is a weakness, one should invest in a dictionary!  I don't mean to brag, but I have always been a good speller.  Nevertheless, being a fallible human, I keep a dictionary on my desk.  (I know-I'm dating myself!)  When I was in grammar school, back in the 1960's, when corporal punishment was accepted, misspelled words often resulted in a thrashing with a poker, meted out by a strong armed nun, in addition to a poor grade, and a probable spanking once you brought the inferior grade home.  Talk about motivation!   Those nuns must be spinning in their graves if they can see what is going on in the schools now...
      I have recently witnessed the most gross misspellings ever:  Dicember  (December),  reepor  (report),  and Wensday  (Wednesday).  Two of the three appeared on an outdoor sign at a local school.  Seriously?  If you can't spell, I should think you wouldn't want to advertise it, especially if you are running a school. And if your spelling is that bad, how are you in that position anyway?  By the way-I don't respond to Emails marked "urget" (urgent), and I would never apply for a job at a company advertising "immidite" (as opposed to immediate) openings.
      I am also anal about the correct meaning of words.  Someone informed me recently that the word "aunt" is a term of endearment. (theoretically it could be, but only if you are not related to the person you refer to as "aunt").  I wanted to be angry with her, but I was too moved by pity.  Daniel Webster did not reside in her home, so I sent her a copy of the latest edition of the Merriam-Webster, with a bright book mark and highlighting at the appropriate page/word. We are no longer on speaking terms, but at least she knows my role.
     I read an article where the author was discussing "glove" warming.  She wasn't referring to placing her mittens on a radiator in winter, but to the phenomenon of global warming.  I don't believe this was entirely her  fault, because if teachers and principals can't spell, as is demonstrated above, how is a student supposed to learn correct spelling or word meaning?   That is not to say that the fault lies solely with the teachers.  I believe that teachers are held far too accountable for students' grades, while students are not nearly accountable enough for their performance.   Additionally, it seems that parents do not provide teachers with proper support when dealing with difficult students, nor do our courts support parents who are dealing with difficult offspring.  I recently read an article about a 21 year old woman who sued her parents, insisting that they pay her college tuition.  The judge ruled in the young woman's favor!  If a person is of legal age, why should his or her parents be compelled to pay for that person's schooling?  I am not in favor of people looking for a handout, be it from their parents, spouses, or the government.  Personally, I find all of the above bewildering.  Don't you?