I read one of my sister's blogs (you're missing out if you haven't read it) about books and the garbage that writers feel is necessary for the "enrichment" of their masterpieces. And, let's not forget the visual plethora that continually competes for our attention and the garbage the media is flashing before our eyes.
I will be the first to admit that I really like (okay, maybe "like" is too tame) a good, intense, action-packed, novel that keeps me guessing until the very end. I enjoy action movies and ones with a little punch. What I don't get is the writers', authors', editors', producers', or whatevers' need to fill the pages and screens with filth and degradation.
I once read a quote that said using profanity (and I will include sex and pornography) is a sign of limited intelligence. How does that grab all you, so-called, intellectual elite??? Can't think of any other words to define a mood or emotion than foul language? Can't think of any other way to show physical emotion other than sex and pornography? Can't think of any other way to portray conflict other than blood, gore, & violence?
I was reading a "teen" series by an author and really enjoyed it. Lots of suspense, action, drama, etc. And guess what??? No language, sex, detailed violence or crude references!!!! Imagine that!!! Thinking the author would be someone I would enjoy on a more "adult" level, I purchased one of the author's books that was considered to be for adults, instead of young adults or teens. I sat myself down, eagerly turned to the first page, turned to the next page, flipped through the pages of the first chapter, got up and threw the book away.
Apparently, adult reading, or viewing, means the author can now use foul and vulgar language, crude references, and sex. Wait a minute. I thought becoming an adult meant being more mature, gaining more knowledge, using that knowledge intelligently, refinement, respect, professionalism. You know, all those adult things. If I had of known that being an adult was the same as being in the locker room when I was a teenager, I would have stopped right there. Look at all the time and energy, not to mention money, I wasted getting more education, refining and improving myself. Boy, what a smack in the face for all you people that consider yourselves "professionals" in whatever field you are in. You got duped!!!! All that money you thought you were putting in to get ahead. And look where it got you. Right back in a teenage locker room. Feeling smart?????
I'm sooo glad I realized my mistake before I continued down this path of waste. I'm an adult. I get to smoke, drink, take drugs, read smut, use foul and vulgar language, read and watch blood and gore, read or look at pornography, etc., etc., etc. Young people, no need to go any further. You've already made it!!!
I wonder what would happen if being an adult meant, no need to use foul or vulgar language, respect for others, intelligent conversations that don't revolve around sex, no satisfaction in reading or watching explicit violence and accepting it as entertainment, moving past the need for alcohol and drugs to make someone popular or "relaxed", respecting the human body (male or female) and not being caught up in the "wearing less and showing more means 'more mature'". I could go on forever.
Alas, I have come to the conclusion there are very few real adults out there in the vast human population. Most of these are children and haven't realized they have already surpassed the older generations. The other group are those of us who decided to leave our teenage and young, adult years behind us and move on to bigger and better things. Here's to being a REAL adult. Grow up world and join the party. We're having a lot more fun than you are.
Monday, September 20, 2010
9-1-1, S.O.S., Help me!! - you get the picture.
I am a terrible blogger. I think of all these wonderful things to post, great words of wisdom, funny anecdotes, etc., etc. Pull up "Blogger" and immediately hit a blank. "Nope, nothin' in my noggin'." LLLLOOOVVVVEEE that movie.
So this is a 9-1-1 to all you gurus out there. I don't have the time, energy, or quite frankly, the desire to spend countless hours trying to figure out how to format my blog. Yes, I'm one of those that feels entitled to instant gratification and feel it is your duty to share your wealth of knowledge with me. After all, they say the rising generations are smarter than the last. So, cough it up!!!! Respect your elders and HELP ME!! Oh, and before I go blank again, keep it simple. Remember, I'm running on a "DOS" brain here.
So this is a 9-1-1 to all you gurus out there. I don't have the time, energy, or quite frankly, the desire to spend countless hours trying to figure out how to format my blog. Yes, I'm one of those that feels entitled to instant gratification and feel it is your duty to share your wealth of knowledge with me. After all, they say the rising generations are smarter than the last. So, cough it up!!!! Respect your elders and HELP ME!! Oh, and before I go blank again, keep it simple. Remember, I'm running on a "DOS" brain here.
Monday, July 5, 2010
4th of July!
So thankful I live in this country. Not perfect, but wonderful still the same.
A HUGE thank you to all the fantastic men and women out there putting their life on the line for our freedoms -- past and present and future.
A HUGE thank you to all the fantastic men and women out there putting their life on the line for our freedoms -- past and present and future.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
17th Anniversary and the Redding Rodeo. Yeah!!!
Okay, now I know what you're all thinking. My house is a rodeo, with a number of clowns, and how could that be exciting on my Anniversary? 'Cause you got it wrong. My house is more like the zoo or circus and I LEFT my house and went to the rodeo.
For years I have been trying to get my better half to take me to the rodeo. I love the rodeo! It was one of my favorite things to do when I was younger. The Ravalli County Fair, seeing how many times you could spin in the Zipper and not throw up (just thinking about it makes my insides turn upside down), and the Rodeo. Of course since I was, and am, such a cowgirl, I was an expert of the sport. Loved those cowboys, wranglers, and bulls. Redbluff, just 30 min. south of us, is one of the major stops on the Pro-bull riding circuit.
Before you get too excited, we didn't go to Redbluff. But, we did go to the one here in Redding. This one is, of course, smaller but a lot of the cowboys use this rodeo to add to their points and experience. There were quite a few Pros in the bunch.
I was so excited I was jumping out of my skin. We went on Thursday night, which was Family Night, and got fantastic seats right in the middle of the stands. I was telling Better Half this was a perfect spot because we could see "everything".
Out comes the first bareback rider. Well, that was kind of boring. He didn't even fall off. The same with the next and the next. I thought 8 seconds was hard to do. These guys were making it look like child's play. In fact, it was the same with the saddle broncs. Man these guys weren't any fun to watch. I mean, half the fun was watching the cartwheels and gymnastics as the guys were flipping off and over the animals. The only gymnastics were the ones by the Redding Daredevils (I think that was their name). They were doing all sorts of nonesense on their horses as they were galloping around the arena. Like Grandpa Recht once said, "I could do that (or jump that high) if my tights were that tight, too."
The bull riding. I was ready for some action. Who were these guys? I mean really. Only one guy even got close to being skewed by a bull. There was no major flipping, trying to run out of the way of the bulls, or even dirt on their wranglers. What a disappointment!!! At lease only a couple actually made the 8 seconds.
And the animals. Where did they get these pygmies? I remember the animals being so much bigger and, of course, meaner. I mean, they had to be in order to rid themselves of their riders so easily. These animals must of had "gentle juice" or something. I could have "rode" those animals and I don't even live on a ranch.
Did you not get the event? Oh, let me tell you again. It was the Redding Pro Rodeo. What??? What did I miss??? These guys were pros?? Weren't they pros in Ravalli County??? They seemed like it to me. Well, no wonder everyone was chearing for them when they got high scores instead of booing them because they didn't fall off. I think there is something wrong with me when I was looking forward to the animals having the upper hand.
It was fun, they were GOOD, glad we went on Family Night instead of "beer" night, yelled and cheared right along with the best of 'em. Can't wait for next year!!!
For years I have been trying to get my better half to take me to the rodeo. I love the rodeo! It was one of my favorite things to do when I was younger. The Ravalli County Fair, seeing how many times you could spin in the Zipper and not throw up (just thinking about it makes my insides turn upside down), and the Rodeo. Of course since I was, and am, such a cowgirl, I was an expert of the sport. Loved those cowboys, wranglers, and bulls. Redbluff, just 30 min. south of us, is one of the major stops on the Pro-bull riding circuit.
Before you get too excited, we didn't go to Redbluff. But, we did go to the one here in Redding. This one is, of course, smaller but a lot of the cowboys use this rodeo to add to their points and experience. There were quite a few Pros in the bunch.
I was so excited I was jumping out of my skin. We went on Thursday night, which was Family Night, and got fantastic seats right in the middle of the stands. I was telling Better Half this was a perfect spot because we could see "everything".
Out comes the first bareback rider. Well, that was kind of boring. He didn't even fall off. The same with the next and the next. I thought 8 seconds was hard to do. These guys were making it look like child's play. In fact, it was the same with the saddle broncs. Man these guys weren't any fun to watch. I mean, half the fun was watching the cartwheels and gymnastics as the guys were flipping off and over the animals. The only gymnastics were the ones by the Redding Daredevils (I think that was their name). They were doing all sorts of nonesense on their horses as they were galloping around the arena. Like Grandpa Recht once said, "I could do that (or jump that high) if my tights were that tight, too."
The bull riding. I was ready for some action. Who were these guys? I mean really. Only one guy even got close to being skewed by a bull. There was no major flipping, trying to run out of the way of the bulls, or even dirt on their wranglers. What a disappointment!!! At lease only a couple actually made the 8 seconds.
And the animals. Where did they get these pygmies? I remember the animals being so much bigger and, of course, meaner. I mean, they had to be in order to rid themselves of their riders so easily. These animals must of had "gentle juice" or something. I could have "rode" those animals and I don't even live on a ranch.
Did you not get the event? Oh, let me tell you again. It was the Redding Pro Rodeo. What??? What did I miss??? These guys were pros?? Weren't they pros in Ravalli County??? They seemed like it to me. Well, no wonder everyone was chearing for them when they got high scores instead of booing them because they didn't fall off. I think there is something wrong with me when I was looking forward to the animals having the upper hand.
It was fun, they were GOOD, glad we went on Family Night instead of "beer" night, yelled and cheared right along with the best of 'em. Can't wait for next year!!!
Friday, May 7, 2010
The club and its phases of life.
I love to go to the club and watch the generation gaps between the Yearlings, Bucks, and Stags. And, of course, let's not forget the Caterpillar, Cocoon, and Butterfly. No matter which room or activity you are involved in, the play of nature is always the same. Especially during the Spring and "new beginnings" when the animals begin to shed their outer layers and try to use up the fat stored for winter.
Let me illustrate. In the weight room, the Yearlings are the ones that are strutting around, doing more strutting than actual lifting . . . . unless a caterpillar slithers by. They are the ones in the latest fashion accessories, flexing when they think their being watched, and if they get the chance . . . . off comes the shirt. They don't have any horns to speak of yet, but it doesn't stop them from tossing their heads and challenging the more mature. Some of them have definitely eaten well with their shiny hair and rippling hides, but lack the confidence to mingle with the elders.
Now you have the Bucks. Undeniably these are the ones that have emerged from the "immature" phase and have entered that "middle, can't quite get it right" phase. Clothes are still somewhat coordinated and in fashion. The Bucks spend a lot of time lifting and grunting in between checking themselves out in the mirrors trying to convince themselves they still look like Yearlings. They blow their horns loudly, stamp their feet, and make a good show. What they lack in hair and hide, they try to make up for in huffing, puffing, sweat, and the telling of "When I was. . . . "
And then you have the Stag. He is regal, sure of himself, doesn't bother with the young ones, and is basically there for himself. His clothes don't match and he doesn't care, the hair is usually a mess, he doesn't strut for the insect varieties . . . . but smiles at everyone . . . . realizing he isn't a Yearling and looks ridiculous trying to act like a Buck and will probably die trying. Enjoys the flattery, but moves beyond it. Love these guys!!!
Not to be outdone we have the other species of life, which begins with the Caterpillar. Oh, yes. She is primped, primed, and stamped with approval. Nothing is out of place from her shiny attennas, her fancy outfits, down to her bristling fur. Her job is to bring Yearlings and Bucks out to play. Activities are usually done with one eye on the mirror and lots of smoothing and grooming. Lap swimming is where the greatest performance takes place. Each Caterpillar works to outdo her competition. They jump in the pool and try not to mess up their antennas or fur. If any are brave enough to actually pretend to swim, their minimal outfits don't allow for all swimming strokes or even a pace quicker than a slow slither. They are good!!!
The Cocoon is very similar to the Buck. Kind of in hybernation, not wanting to be a Caterpillar anymore . . . basically because she knows she can't . . . . and trying to be dignified as she moves toward Butterfly, kicking and screaming all the way. Outfits are still more on the showy side than practical, but it doesn't quite make it. After all, no one wants to admit they've outgrown their first set of colors. More interested in prolonging the onslaught of the Butterfly, the Cocoon spends a lot of time sweating, then making excuses for why the antennas are drooping, fur is dull, and colors are fading. The Cocoon still smiles at the Yearlings, realizes they can't pass the Bucks, and avoid the Stags like a plague
The crowning jewels are the Butterflies. They are marvelous creatures. They spread their wings and fly. Not only have they matured to the fullest, they are not afraid to show it. If the antennas are not quite straight or shiny, that's okay . . . . they'll just wilt with the bodily exertions. If a comb doesn't quite make it to tame the fur, that's okay . . . . a hat, ponytail, other interesting gadgets, or just leaving it as morning greets them is just fine. There is no pretense as to the purpose of their visit. Their outfits are very practical, if not commical. If they "don't have it", they don't care and aren't going to hide it. They are lovely and each one is unique and beautiful. Their job, of course, is to keep the Stags from hurting themselves and add balance.
Today, my Butterfly was emerging. I had the outfit, my nails were done, I walked with a little pluck in my step, and . . . . I'd forgotten to do anything with my fur. I'm one of those that it takes all night for my fur ro reach such magnitude and splendor. Half of the fur still looked like I was still in bed and the other half looked like it was trying to run away. I certainly didn't pull it off with the dignity of a Butterfly, but spluttered right along with the best of them. I'm a Caterpillar living in the body of a Cocoon and in complete and utter denial that I will EVER turn into a Butterfly!!!
Let me illustrate. In the weight room, the Yearlings are the ones that are strutting around, doing more strutting than actual lifting . . . . unless a caterpillar slithers by. They are the ones in the latest fashion accessories, flexing when they think their being watched, and if they get the chance . . . . off comes the shirt. They don't have any horns to speak of yet, but it doesn't stop them from tossing their heads and challenging the more mature. Some of them have definitely eaten well with their shiny hair and rippling hides, but lack the confidence to mingle with the elders.
Now you have the Bucks. Undeniably these are the ones that have emerged from the "immature" phase and have entered that "middle, can't quite get it right" phase. Clothes are still somewhat coordinated and in fashion. The Bucks spend a lot of time lifting and grunting in between checking themselves out in the mirrors trying to convince themselves they still look like Yearlings. They blow their horns loudly, stamp their feet, and make a good show. What they lack in hair and hide, they try to make up for in huffing, puffing, sweat, and the telling of "When I was. . . . "
And then you have the Stag. He is regal, sure of himself, doesn't bother with the young ones, and is basically there for himself. His clothes don't match and he doesn't care, the hair is usually a mess, he doesn't strut for the insect varieties . . . . but smiles at everyone . . . . realizing he isn't a Yearling and looks ridiculous trying to act like a Buck and will probably die trying. Enjoys the flattery, but moves beyond it. Love these guys!!!
Not to be outdone we have the other species of life, which begins with the Caterpillar. Oh, yes. She is primped, primed, and stamped with approval. Nothing is out of place from her shiny attennas, her fancy outfits, down to her bristling fur. Her job is to bring Yearlings and Bucks out to play. Activities are usually done with one eye on the mirror and lots of smoothing and grooming. Lap swimming is where the greatest performance takes place. Each Caterpillar works to outdo her competition. They jump in the pool and try not to mess up their antennas or fur. If any are brave enough to actually pretend to swim, their minimal outfits don't allow for all swimming strokes or even a pace quicker than a slow slither. They are good!!!
The Cocoon is very similar to the Buck. Kind of in hybernation, not wanting to be a Caterpillar anymore . . . basically because she knows she can't . . . . and trying to be dignified as she moves toward Butterfly, kicking and screaming all the way. Outfits are still more on the showy side than practical, but it doesn't quite make it. After all, no one wants to admit they've outgrown their first set of colors. More interested in prolonging the onslaught of the Butterfly, the Cocoon spends a lot of time sweating, then making excuses for why the antennas are drooping, fur is dull, and colors are fading. The Cocoon still smiles at the Yearlings, realizes they can't pass the Bucks, and avoid the Stags like a plague
The crowning jewels are the Butterflies. They are marvelous creatures. They spread their wings and fly. Not only have they matured to the fullest, they are not afraid to show it. If the antennas are not quite straight or shiny, that's okay . . . . they'll just wilt with the bodily exertions. If a comb doesn't quite make it to tame the fur, that's okay . . . . a hat, ponytail, other interesting gadgets, or just leaving it as morning greets them is just fine. There is no pretense as to the purpose of their visit. Their outfits are very practical, if not commical. If they "don't have it", they don't care and aren't going to hide it. They are lovely and each one is unique and beautiful. Their job, of course, is to keep the Stags from hurting themselves and add balance.
Today, my Butterfly was emerging. I had the outfit, my nails were done, I walked with a little pluck in my step, and . . . . I'd forgotten to do anything with my fur. I'm one of those that it takes all night for my fur ro reach such magnitude and splendor. Half of the fur still looked like I was still in bed and the other half looked like it was trying to run away. I certainly didn't pull it off with the dignity of a Butterfly, but spluttered right along with the best of them. I'm a Caterpillar living in the body of a Cocoon and in complete and utter denial that I will EVER turn into a Butterfly!!!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
I ran away!!
Now, I can't say that my destination was paradise, but then again, being alone sure helps.
I called my prince charming yesterday afternoon and told him I was renting a hotel and running away. My kids were asking, "Why, Mom?" I squeazed each of their little faces and said, "You are one of the six reasons I'm going."
I wish I could say I did incredible things, but I painted my nails, slept, read a little, slept, took a drink of water, slept. You see the pattern.
I came home this morning to a nice clean house. Prince Charming definitely knows what I need.
I do feel bad for him though. Can you imagine being called at work and told your spouse is "running away" for the day? Poor guy probably thought I was going off the deep end and not coming back. Well, I did go off the deep end, but I went with a life perserver attached to the bank. Can't get too far!
For the record, I love my family, I love my kids, I love my husband . . . . Sometimes I just have to take a breath.
I called my prince charming yesterday afternoon and told him I was renting a hotel and running away. My kids were asking, "Why, Mom?" I squeazed each of their little faces and said, "You are one of the six reasons I'm going."
I wish I could say I did incredible things, but I painted my nails, slept, read a little, slept, took a drink of water, slept. You see the pattern.
I came home this morning to a nice clean house. Prince Charming definitely knows what I need.
I do feel bad for him though. Can you imagine being called at work and told your spouse is "running away" for the day? Poor guy probably thought I was going off the deep end and not coming back. Well, I did go off the deep end, but I went with a life perserver attached to the bank. Can't get too far!
For the record, I love my family, I love my kids, I love my husband . . . . Sometimes I just have to take a breath.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The NERVE of my mother!!
I have decided to blame my mother for this one. After all, it IS her fault. She started it, she made me do it, she made me do it again when it wasn't right, and now I can't get away from it. Every year it comes back. Every year I run away, but it doesn't. Every year I try to ignore it, but it won't be ignored. Are you getting the picture here?
So here I am, at that point again. I cry, I sweat, I come up with a million excuses, and in the end . . . . I always give in.
Darn this spring cleaning. Mom, how could you? How could you have taught me such a valuable skill? How could you have made cleanliness such an important part of life? Couldn't you have cared about me just a little less? Couldn't you have let me sleep in just a little longer on those days?
So, here goes to my Mom. I'm blaming ALL of this on you. Thank you for loving me enough to teach me. I love the smell of a clean house.
So here I am, at that point again. I cry, I sweat, I come up with a million excuses, and in the end . . . . I always give in.
Darn this spring cleaning. Mom, how could you? How could you have taught me such a valuable skill? How could you have made cleanliness such an important part of life? Couldn't you have cared about me just a little less? Couldn't you have let me sleep in just a little longer on those days?
So, here goes to my Mom. I'm blaming ALL of this on you. Thank you for loving me enough to teach me. I love the smell of a clean house.
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