Succinctly Yours Week 201: Marooned

Thank you to Grandma’s Goulash for hosting Succinctly Yours, a delightful little meme in which we are encouraged to pack a story into 140 words or 140 characters or fewer. The bonus word this week was “faint.”

The first morning of his island vacation, naïve Ed went outside and thought he might faint. No wonder his ticket to Grand Island, Nebraska had been such a good deal.  136

They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist. . . .

~Last words of General John Sedgwick, Union Commander, killed in battle during the U.S. Civil War

Cold and Colderer (and Word Meme)

If you are here for “Succinctly Yours,” please skip to below the quote, and thank you for visiting!

So far we’ve weathered (get it?) stuck cars, frozen locks and lots of shoveling. Still, that sci-fi-sounding polar vortex aside, I don’t really despise winter. I’m just superstitious enough that I feel like I must whisper this, however, lest some wicked winter warlock decides to make me regret admitting it.

Today was the day we were supposed to head back to school, but I do usually wish I had just one more day off. And in many ways, the experience brought back my youth in Nebraska.

The difference is that now I have no problem dressing for the cold, whereas when I was young, I was more concerned with unflatteringly puffy coats and ugly hats. Today when I emerged from the bathroom in my snow shoveling gear, the cat ran for his life, clearly fearing I’d morphed into the Abominable Snowmom. Even after treats and reassurances, he hugged the walls and cast wide, wary eyes at me. It was funny until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized I looked like a Monsters, Inc. creature. I swished when I walked and had hair that sprouted out of the top of my ear warmers like a freakishly huge pea hen.

Shoveling didn’t improve the hairdo any—and this from someone who regularly plays the “Which Male Lord of the Rings Character Does My Hair Now Resemble” game (hint: it’s never Legolas, and when it’s Aragorn, it’s always that end-of-war do when it’s clear he hasn’t washed it in at least six Orc battles…only way, WAY less sexy on me).

Now that the shoveling is accomplished, snow (and my hair) aren’t so bad again. This storm produced a sparkling white magic that so silently whipped up a new landscape, submerging scenery so that benches were buried and swing set seats were erased, whited out, their chains seemingly anchored to nothing.

For some of us, living in the tropics would be like eating nothing but chocolate all the time. Sounds heavenly until you get a hankering for chicken or even Aunt Roberta’s string beans.

So for now, anyway, at least while I sit here with leftover Christmas treats and the premiere of Downton Abbey on DVR, I’m okay being snowed in. Happy 2014.

In the long run the pessimist may be proved right, but the optimist has a better time on the trip. ~Daniel L. Reardon

Thanks to the extra time our snowstorm has given me, this week I’ve decided to try participating in “Succinctly Yours” over at Grandma’sGoulash. The idea of this meme is to use the photo as inspiration for a story of 140 characters or 140 words (or fewer). Mine is 133 characters, not counting spaces, and the bonus word was "theory."

Gary, ever the perfectionist, had a theory about how Elvis impersonation should be done. When he played “You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound dog,” he got a bit literal. 

Ten Computer Things

Those silly voodooers! Now that my Dell computer has been reformatted a record FIVE times since April, I’d like to give them a great, big low five to the nether regions. Though—not to brag or anything—but with all that waiting time while on the phone to Dell and while programs are installing again and again, I’m getting very good at the Plants vs. Zombies game installed on the computer I’ve been borrowing. Please be patient with me as I find, bookmark, and read your blogs again. In the meantime, to celebrate my FIVE reformats, here are:

Ten Things I’d Like to Do to My Dell Computer That’s So Far Been Reformatted FIVE Times Since April:

1. Make my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times try to follow instructions for six hours straight from a Dell tech with a thick accent while my computer is unable to go to the bathroom or move around because the phone ran out of battery power three hours ago and has to stay plugged into the recharger.
2. Spray paint anti-gang graffiti on my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times and drive it to the bad part of town, shove it out the door and make it walk home.
3. Force my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times to teach kindergarten, and then when it’s too tired to move, let it take a nap in the bus slots.
4. Make my Dell computer that’s been reformatted 5 times wait at the dentist’s office for three hours to get its keys replaced with only a copy of Taxidermy Today as entertainment.
5. Buy my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times a one-way bus ticket to Goehner, Nebraska and make it sit next to the guy with green teeth who spits when he talks and wants to tell it all about his boil lancing operation and has pictures.
6. Set up my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times on a blind date with a mimeograph machine that really, really likes spiffy new computers and likes to sit real close and leaks purple mimeograph ink.
7. Donate my Dell computer that’s been reformatted 5 times to the gypsies who are going to encourage Uncle Fonzo in his computer-juggling aspirations despite his vision disability.
8. Take my my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times for a day of fun at Six Flags and make it ride on the scary ride where they make you take your earrings out first lest they get sucked out of your head. Then have the annoyed teenaged attendant forget to push the safety bar till it clicks.
9. Make my Dell computer that’s been reformatted 5 times watch an all-day, commercial-free marathon of Say Yes to the Dress, interrupted only by frequent commentaries by Honey Boo Boo.
10. Make my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times ride to the top of the St. Louis Gateway Arch in one of those tiny elevators with the lady with the B.O. that smells like spoiled chicken soup that could be smelled all the way from The Museum of Westward Expansion.

 And a bonus:

11. At the top of the Arch, open a window to give it a better view and then give my Dell computer that’s had to be reformatted 5 times just a little nudge.

Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward. ~Kurt Vonnegut

Improper Poll: Death by Christmas Décor

When I was growing up, my mother used to decorate with nostalgia. I don’t mean decorations with a nostalgic feel, either. She had to have every ornament and light that had survived her own childhood—even if her entire childhood would have been outlawed by today’s EPA. I still consider it a miracle that her tree had once been lighted by seriously frayed 1940s bubble lights rather than actual flaming candles.

Then there was the wreath. In life it had been made of real holly, but that holly hadn't seen life since at least two wars earlier. In death it had atrophied and mummified into a vicious, gnarled business I still think of as The Wreath of Wrath. It was a cruel crown of thorns that lived in the bowels of the scary-crawl-space during the rest of the year and drew blood even through the most heavy duty pair of mittens. It was always below zero in Nebraska at that time of year, so the unfortunate Christmas decorator was besieged by all sorts of peril. And guess who was always voted Noel Ostentatious Ornamentation Operator (N.O.O.O.)?

So when my daughter and I decorated, I tried to get an honest look at what I was putting up. Some is trying to be pretty, and some is a little nostalgic, and some is blatantly tacky…or what the children liked to call “fun.” Not only does baby Jesus slumber in front of a strobe-lighted manger of pine garland, but a quilted Rudolf-trophy head presides over the room just because I enjoy its satirical feel.

So tell me: Do you have dangerous décor? Or do you do pretty, tacky or nostalgic? Or all of the above? Or nothing at all?

P.S.-Many, many thanks to those of you who came out to see us for the Fourth Annual "Chicken Soup for the Soul, Canned Soup for the Body" event!!! I will be posting more about this later!

Ten Things I Learned from My Father

 1.  A real man is big on the inside. He has a booming laugh and tough, warm hands that almost make a muffled sound when they clap, like slapping oven mitts together. If he is tall and strong, it’s so he can lift you onto his shoulders to help you see better. His size and strength only emphasize his tenderness.
2.  Everyone should have a sense of humor and use it often.
3.  Encourage your child to ask questions about life, and then have the patience to answer honestly. If the question is about sex, give an honest, straightforward answer. Then shrug your shoulders and add (with wonder in your voice), “That’s the way God made it, and it works!”
4.  My father was a man’s man, a one-time boxer, a former Nebraska Cornhusker football player, an ex WWII marine. But he was also a talented artist and in many ways so much more intuitive than most of the women I knew that for most of my childhood, I thought the stereotype of creative woman/pragmatic man was a joke. I learned that the best people go against stereotypes.
5.  Lying is okay if it’s done out of genuine love. When I asked my father if he was sorry he didn’t have a son, he grimaced with mock horror and asked, “What would I want with icky boys when I have the three best daughters in the world?!” Of course I knew he was lying. But how I loved him for it.
6.  Sometimes it’s the things you don’t say that speak the loudest. When I asked him about WWII, he got that look and got way too quiet. And then he’d perk up and say, “Here’s a funny story….” He’d tell things like the time he was supposed to swab the deck and got the “bright idea” to clean the mops by tying them to a rope behind the ship, without thinking about the fact that they had metal on the handles that would set off the torpedo warnings. When I got done laughing, I was left contemplating that prologue of silence. It was the things he didn’t say about the war that made me ache.
7.  Small people put others down in order to feel bigger. Big people lift others up because they have the strength to spare. They know how to be humble. They admit they have faults and know how to laugh at themselves.
8.  Absolutely the best gift a man can give his daughter? His respect. Not for the way she looks, but for her mind and her soul. Because of course men who are confident enough to be able to love and respect strong women are the best men there are. And I don’t mean in that slightly cheesy, “I am excessively chivalrous” way that’s really an excuse to posture. I could have an intellectual conversation with my father or just be silly. He worked in local politics toward the end of his life. At his funeral, a female politician approached me and told me all the things she admired about my dad.  But the thing that struck her on the deepest level was what set him apart from all the rest. “Your father was the only man of his era I’ve ever known who genuinely knew how to treat women as his equal.” She was right. I’ve always cherished both that truth and her gift of putting it into words.
9.  The most important thing really is being there.
10.  There is a great deal to be said for having nothing left to say when it’s time to die. Sometimes you have to greet each other by your nicknames, do the “secret handshake,” and know that’s the best goodbye there is.

Miss him? Yep. Happy Father’s Day.

When all is said and done, 90% of being a dad is just showing up. ~Jay from Modern Family

Improper Poll: The Shirt of Worms

While moving my daughter into college, the subject of theft came up. And this reminded me of my all-time favorite article of clothing, ever, which was unfortunately stolen at college along with some others. My Favorite Article of Clothing of All Time was a souvenir tee shirt from Worms, Nebraska.

Yes, there is such a place, though I’m sorry to say I have never actually had the pleasure of visiting there. I admired a friend’s shirt so much that she gave me one as a gift. Her father was a farmer who used to drive to Worms for some reason. At the time, I believe she told me that the population of Worms was somewhere around 25 people. There was a church and a bar. The bar was appropriately called “Night Crawlers.”

What is your All-Time Favorite Article of Clothing?

Book Blurb Friday #25

Time for Book Blurb Friday, a meme from Lisa Ricard Claro’s Writing in the Buff. This fun challenge offers a picture for inspiration. Our job is to write a book jacket blurb of 150 words or fewer that makes potential readers feel compelled to buy the book.  This week I came up with 126 words.

~Grand Land~

Decker “Deckhead” Worthingless was a spoiled trust fund baby who decided that the best way to get his parents’ attention was to ignore them. Going home for Christmas vacation with his Princeton roommate, the brilliant and eccentric Larry Squirell from Grand Island, Nebraska, seemed just the thing.

Despite the name, Grand Island is neither grand…nor an island. Yet Larry affectionately referred to his small, prairie-grass-roots home town as “Grand ’Land.” What Decker found in Nebraska surrounded by the Squirell clan—Helen, Chuck, Grandpa Winslow, and Larry’s quirky sister Evelyn—was indeed something grand that would change more lives than just Decker’s…especially when Decker made a mistake that no trust fund could buy off.

Fortunately for everyone, what happens in Grand Land doesn’t stay in Grand Land.

The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing. ~John Powell

Improper Poll: It’s a Drag

Is there a small thing that you’ve really regretted? I don’t mean big things, but those little chances you passed up and now regret?

In my last Book Blurb Friday post, I mentioned a character who was a female impersonator. This reminded me of the time I passed up attending a “Miss Drag Queen” contest. It was held after the bars closed. I opted not to go because my children were young then and I was perpetually tired in those days.  But now I have to ask myself what tiredness is compared to an opportunity like that. Throughout all of the years since, I’ve thought of that as one of the adventures I’m most sorry I passed up in life, because how often does a straight Midwestern suburban mom—especially one who writes—get to attend a drag queen pageant? And this was in Omaha, so it was in fact a Nebraskan drag queen pageant. Let’s face it: life just doesn’t get much better than that.

I had gone to a party with my sister, who is involved in community theatre. The party was held by two gay men who hadn’t come out until after both were married with children. So they divorced their wives and began a less traditional blended family with about five children between them, sort of like the Brady Bunch, only with a male Carol. Very cool party, too—they had a mini-amusement park set up for the children and a mini gambling casino set up for the adults. Gamboling and gambling, ar ar.

Anyway. Is there anything in life you passed up and now regret?