I Remember - He Was The Cute One!

Submitted by Musically Challenged

I work at a world renowned school of music. Which is really funny because I don't know the first thing about any kind of music. I'm not a music person. Never have been. And in this job in particular I am a fish out of water because the curriculum is classical music. I know even less about that than I do about any other type of music, and that's really saying something. Fortunately, my job doesn't really require much musical knowledge. But sometimes my lack of musical understanding is obvious. Glaringly obvious.

Like a couple years ago when our school awarded Sir Paul McCartney an honorary doctorate of music. Everyone was buzzing in my office. Sir Paul McCartney was coming! Sir Paul McCartney was coming! Could I believe it? Actually, I couldn't. This was one time when I actually knew who they were talking about.

That night when I got home from work, I walked into my living room and told my husband who had been on campus that day.

"Wow! Paul McCartney, huh?" he said.

"Yeah, I know," I said back. And then I added, "He's that Monkeys guy, right?"

There was dead silence in the room.

"No, he's that Beatles guy, dear," said my husband. And then he added, "Please don't ever tell anyone that you said that. Okay?"

I swear, some days I don't know how I get through the work day at all.

For Your Approval

Submitted by The Frumious Bandersnatch


Haven't we all seen the movie where the unlikable sister-in-law or brother-in-law sits at the family table saying evil things and everyone loathes them? I've actually been at one of those events and I hope that my husband and I will never be the hated one. But what would it be like if your family doesn't like your significant other?

I was fortunate enough that the first time my brothers met my husband they got along famously. I had been so nervous to introduce my boyfriend after years of my brothers asking if I was dating anyone they could beat up. (Lovely weren't they?) I got lucky because my family likes him, but what would I have done if they didn't?

But, my sister has brought home some men that put my family on edge. In fact, I quit speaking to the last guy she dated because he said an unbelievably rude comment to me shortly after I had my first baby. (I was hormonal and sensitive and I will never forgive or forget his stupidity.) Sis claims that she doesn't need or care if our family approves of her boyfriend, but would she really marry someone that the family doesn't like? The last couple of guys just didn't seem to mesh with the way that our family interacts.

We all get along as a family, sure we yell, but we also have a lot of fun when we get together. Wouldn't you assume that what our family deems 'likable' traits would be the same things that my sister looks for in a guy? She was raised with us and has the same values and background as the rest of the family. So if he can't get along with us, wouldn't that be a clue that the long term compatibility with my sister probably isn't there?

I'm not saying if our family doesn't love him immediately or worship the ground he walks on that she should dump whomever she's dating. But shouldn't she at least value our opinions a little?

I'm just sayin' . . .

Life Lessons

submitted by Pony Girl

There are so many life lessons we can teach our kids. Although they probably ride the ATV faster than they should, on the flipside, my youngest is very paranoid if the space heater is anywhere near the bathtub. They buckle their seatbelts religiously, did I tell them not to turn on the cruise control when the road is wet? What about hyrdroplaning. Have I have cautioned them on things like carbon monoxide and schooled them on the small animals most likely to carry rabies? I wonder if they’ll ever be ready for the real world.

I hope that one of the things they will learn and carry forward in life is kindness. Growing up in a small town, I went to school with most of the same kids from Kindergarten through high school. We had the nerds and the jocks, the beauty queens, the popular kids, the pot smokers and the fun crowd. But invariably, there are always kids who get made fun of. And even as a child, I remember feeling sorry for them. I didn’t necessarily invite them into my clique, but tried to be a little nicer one on one. It was the best I could do as a shallow-minded child. As a parent, I’ve tried to direct my kids in that direction, as well. They don’t necessarily have to be friends with everyone, but just be kind.

Throughout the years, I haven’t seen them demonstrate any heroic acts of kindness to their fellow students, but I haven’t heard them necessarily dissing anyone either. My oldest has had a spat or two in the locker room with other boys – not sure who bullied whom, but they served their detentions and moved on. Socially, things seem to run a pretty even keel.

Seventh grade has been tough on Child #2. (Well, maybe not so tough on him as it has been on me!) Adjusting to a larger school where he is not the “cock of the walk” has had been challenging and I believe in his efforts to fit in, he has made some bad choices. He had three behavioral detentions in 2 days, compared to his older brother’s 2 detentions in 4 years! From clowning around to drinking the science experiment, (Huh? Was it toxic? No. Well thank goodness for that!), it cost him participation in his first football game and trust me, that hurt him! A lot. All minor infractions, but at least they set the bar for him and he has been trying to walk the straight and narrow since. Well, until yesterday.

Late in the afternoon, I get an email from one of the priests. The title of the email was “inappropriate language”. Slowly, I open the email and quickly scan for a notice of detention – as one more and he will be off the football team. Whew. No detention. It seemed, however, that a young lady in his class called him a name. He struck back by calling her a name. She then went to the teacher (in tears) and said that my son called her a name. He called her a “douche bag.” (Do you know how thrilled I was getting an email from a priest with “douche bag” quoted in the email? I know I am being paid back for all the things I did to my parents. God help me, this is just the beginning!)

Now to be fair, the priest said that my son probably didn’t know what that meant, so he was not going to give a detention, however, I may want to explain it to him. (Oh, great – I get to have a douche bag conversation with a 12-year-old boy!) But I can handle it. Actually, I’ll have fun with it. I’ll bring up visuals on the internet and tell him what it is for! I’ll embarrass the hell out of him. Again, I am still so grateful for no detention. When I got home, I followed through on the embarrassment, including having him write a letter of apology to the girl in question.

Upon further reflection, I thought about the injured party; the girl who was called a “douche bag”. She is a pre-teen – maybe even thirteen years old; six years from graduating high school. I assume her mom got an email, too, informing her that she called a boy a name. Seems like it might have been appropriate. But, if I were that mom, I would not hold that girl to my bosom and tell her everything is going to be all right and that boy will never hurt you again? Not a chance!

I would tell her “Cowgirl Up, Sweet Cakes! I cannot believe you are almost a teenager and you are still tattle tailing to the teachers about name-calling? You can dish it out but you can’t take it? Still having someone else fight your battles? It’s time to toughen up right now! This may have been the first boy to hurt your feelings, but trust me, it won’t be the last!” Life lesson learned.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead . . . pass it on.

Submitted by The Frumious Bandersnatch.

I'm feeling extra frumious today.

My cell phone rings at the office at 8 am sharp Friday morning.

It's my mom calling to say, "Hi, your great- uncle died last night."
First off he was not just a great uncle - he was my grandfather's twin brother. Which me being a twin myself, I've always had a special place in my heart for him.

Now lets put the sadness aside for a second for the reason for my post.

I tearfully asked my mother why she felt that 8 am at the office was a good place to tell me this. And her reply?

"This is a good thing. He had so many health problems and now he can be with his wife in heaven and not living in pain. There's no need to be sad."

I asked why she didn't wait to tell me later in the day. And her reply?

"I wanted you to have all day to deal with this and not hear about it in the evening."

My thoughts are she could have told me at lunch so I could cry while I eat - always a great thing to try to juggle tissues and food, or until the work day was almost over, then I could sit in the car until I got a hold of myself and drove to get my kids from daycare. I understand that her first thought was to spare me having to deal with this in front of the kids, or heaven forbid I drive while upset.

But seriously, 8 am on Friday?

It seems a rather rude question, but how do you pass along bad news? Is there a better time of day? A better method? There has got to be a better way to share sad information.

Two Syllables

submitted by Grammar Snob

The word, people, is Realtor. R-E-A-L-T-O-R. It is not Realator. And yet so many of you insist on pronouncing it as if there is an extra "a" stuck right into the middle of there word. Please note that that is not the case. There are only two syllables: REAL/TOR. Say it with me, "Real-tor."

Very good! You are hereby responsible for always saying this word as it's supposed to be and also for gently correcting those who are being wasteful with their syllable usage.

Thank you for your attention.