Paula Pounding

Paula Deen's in a lot of trouble. Social media has put her on trial and condemned her as guilty of being a racist. Her endorsements are being lost. Her television show is being canceled.   Her product sales are dropping. All because she told the truth and admitted that in the past she has used the n-word. People are burning the boards condemning the woman. And they are smiling broadly as they do it.  Paula pounding is fun!

Give me a break.


The trial is about unfair work practices, and the charges are mainly aimed at the behavior of her brother. (And for those of you who are unaware, the woman filing the hostile workplace charges is white. Just a little FYI.)  Did Paula ever call someone a n-word in the work place? No. Is the issue that Paula personally mistreated employees because of the color of their skin? No. Did Paula have some goofy ideas about southern plantations? Yes. (And so does the rest of the South as you can't go to any state without signing up for the plantation tour. It's a money-maker.)

The question she was asked was if she'd EVER used the n-word in the past.  What the hell kind of a question was that?  Had they asked her if she'd ever used the term to belittle an employee, that might have made more sense.  But to ask if she'd ever used the word?  How many of you reading this have never used the word, either out loud or in your thoughts/opinions?  How many of you have never said anything in the past that, taken out of context, could make you look mighty bad now-a-days?  If you're thinking 'not me,' then I'm calling you a liar. 

American social media..... gotta love it.  It thrives on making celebrities out of nobodies.  But where it really has fun is tearing down such celebrities and reporting on the drying up of their bank accounts.  We are such a jealous society.  And one that is so easily led.  It should scare you (general you) how easily your thoughts and opinions are dictated to you by the media.

I saw this on Facebook today.  Thanks to Kathy Lawson.  You really made me think.
                                    

First World Problems

After reading my last blog, my friend Anne commented that I had written about First World Problems. I don’t think that thinly disguised racism or weather reports that terrify small children count as First World Problems, but I do feel like a mini-expert in that field so I decided today to share the wealth of my knowledge with you, my dear readers.

　
If you are unfamiliar with the term First World Problems, it refers to a “problem” that only someone in America with no real problems (or perspective) could have. Such problems often involve eye rolling by the audience forced to listen to the person’s complaints. Usually, the person whining has no idea that the recipient of said whine would rather be walking barefooted on a rocky beach instead of listening to the drama queen/king going on and on. First World Problems sometimes involve narcissism, sometimes not. If you personally relate to a problem, you’d probably prefer to think of the universality of the issue rather than the selfishness of the complainer.

　
I am currently exasperated by a few First World Problems (referred to from now on as FWP). My internet went out four hours ago and has yet to be restored. Therefore, I cannot check my email, get beaten in Words with Friends by Debbie Cullum (who is really her sneaky husband Bart), stay stuck on Level 65 of Candy Crush, or any of the other things that keep me occupied throughout the day. I am, like, so totally, irritated. If I call my provider, I’ll be on the phone for an hour with “Peggy” who will eventually give up and set up an appointment for a service call. I will get anywhere between five to eight calls from the company telling me my service has been restored and do I want to cancel the service call. I will cancel the call five or eight times, and yet the technician will never get the message, so I will not get to sleep late tomorrow because robocall will start bugging me at 7:00 am and I’ll have to dress before he shows up around lunchtime. Have you rolled your eyes yet? Perhaps they have glazed over. Yep, it’s a FWP.

　
It is getting close to dinner, and I am in a quandary about what to do. My swim club is having its first cookout, and as much as I’d like to go, I didn’t RSVP. That’s not too big of a problem, as long as I bring a side dish and a few bucks, I’m welcome. But, do I really want to go if any of the three big families (10+ people per family) are there? Do those people bring one side dish to represent twelve people when single old me is also bringing one dish? That’s certainly not fair! And soooo irritating! Will there be enough for everybody or will those vulture children get all the food before anyone else? Will there even be a place for me to sit with that crowd of kids circling the barbeque pit? This is a real problem because it is almost dinnertime and a girl’s gotta eat. What to do? What to do? First World enough for you?

　
FWP: Complaining about eating too much at Thanksgiving (or Christmas, Easter, Halloween or just plain Wednesday). Woe is poor, poor you. You have too much food and make yourself feel uncomfortable when eating it. There are people starving in the world, and we Americans love to complain about too much food and how irresistible it is. Smh (This means shaking my head in computer talk.)

　
FWP: Getting angrier and angrier as you’re stuck in a traffic jam on your way to the beach. Hey, you’re not working - you are going to the beach! Enjoy!

　
FWP: You are sick and tired of people misspelling your name. Britney, Briteny, Brittany, Brittaney, Britaney - seriously? How can anyone remember which way you spell it? Be happy people care enough to remember your name.

　
FWP: Three of your favorite programs are on at the same time. You can DVR one and watch one, so what happens to the third? Darn those TV stations for having the nerve to schedule all of your favorite programs at the same time!

　
FWP: Your pants are getting tight because you’ve been enjoying so many restaurant meals and glasses of fine wine. Darn those restaurants for making their portions so big! (This one’s for you Larry.)

　
Do you get the picture? Do you suffer from FWPitis? If so, it’s time to take a serious look at the issues that are driving you crazy. And to start laughing at some of them, instead of boiling over in rage. Life will seem a whole lot better if you can take the bad with the good and roll with the punches. However, as desperately as I feel the need to enlighten you with my opinion, it could be a while before I get to share my infinite wisdom with you. It’s been six thirty hours now and my internet still isn’t working! I have about had it with Verizon. This is America; there’s no excuse for such shoddy service!  *&X#@#!

Fear Not Lest Ye Be Judged

Recently, someone paid me a compliment by telling me she admired my strength and she bet I was afraid of nothing.  I was struck dumb by that because, to tell the truth, I'm afraid of all kinds of things.  While I try not to let fear cripple my life, it is probably the reason I have trouble sleeping at night.  Fear translates into worry, and we already know that I worry too much.  So, what do I fear?

I fear phone calls after 9:00 pm (except from Dee because she never has any idea what time it is).  This is, no doubt, an irrational fear because the worst calls of my life usually came in broad daylight. My father's doctor called me around 11:00 am to tell me my dad had been admitted to the hospital for his first heart attack (my mother and sister were away on a cruise).  My sister called me around 1:00 pm to tell me to head home, NOW, as my father had taken a bad turn.  When I taught, some of my former students were trying to torture me with prank calls, but they usually came between 4 and 7.  My usual nighttime calls are harmless, like the fax machine determined to connect to my non-existent fax machine.  Or a drunk misdialing a booty call.  So why am I terrified of night calls?  Maybe because they break the silence and startle me?  Maybe because the movies have convinced me that these calls are from a serial killer who is hiding in the upstairs bedroom (and I don't even have an upstairs).  Calls from my sister are the worst - I'm sure she's calling to inform me of the latest disaster decimating our remaining family.  Really, I need to remember she works two jobs and her calls will come at odd times.

I am afraid of any physical symptoms that resemble cancer.  Have you read the list of cancer symptoms?  Fatigue.  Body pains.  Skin abnormalities.  Fingernail abnormalities. Difficulty swallowing.  And so on.  How long should I observe said symptoms before going to the doctor?  What happens if said symptoms just go away on their own?  Am I ultimately going to blame myself for some fatal illness?  It doesn't help that I am afraid to go to the doctor and the dentist. 

I am afraid of driving sometimes.  Is it just me, or have drivers become more dangerous, reckless, and inattentive over the years?  I can't tell you how many times I've braced myself to be hit because I had the audacity to actually stop at a yellow light.  I have been cut off by people talking while holding the phone in one hand and gesturing with the other.  What is steering their car? (I'm afraid to ask.)  I am afraid of running out of gas or the car overheating during a traffic jam.  I am afraid of pulling out of parking lot spaces because I can't twist my neck enough to make sure no car is speeding down the road behind me.

I am afraid of big, unexpected household expenses.  A few years ago a plumbing problem cost me close to $3000.  My air conditioning system is on its last legs.  On top of my expenses are the ones I help my family with.  For many reasons, I have not saved much money since retiring.  I am blessed to have my needs met, but I fear what could happen with an expensive emergency.  I guess a lot of Americans fear money disasters (especially those who watch Faux news - they thrive on fear).

I fear going to Weight Watchers because the five pounds I lost two weeks ago found me again.  Oh, how I fear that look of disappointment on Joyce's face. 

I fear any change in my dog's normal behavior because I fear losing her.

I fear being alone, yet I fear dating someone from a website even more.

I fear crowds of people. 

I fear passing gas in public, even though that might gain me some space in that fearful crowd of people.  (Ha ha Larry - I threw that one in for you.)

I fear long flights, the aggravation of airport security measures, and putting my carry-on luggage into a bin so far over my head there's no way I can reach it by myself.

I fear guns and too many of the people who smugly feel entitled to own their personal arsenal. I especially fear the bozos who believe it is their "God-given right" to own them.  I read/watch the news.  That's a fear I am entitled to have.

I fear I will never again find a home church and God will be pissed off with me for being she of such weak faith.

So there.  I have bared my soul; seems my desire to write is stronger than my fear of exposing the inner me.  I hope the person who admired my strength isn't too disappointed to realize that I am the same bowl of jelly as she and many others are. 

WTH

Some may say I got up on the wrong side of the bed today.  WTH.  I'm retired.  A curmudgeon.  And I'll get up on any side of the dang bed I wish to exit.  Today I'm finding myself extremely irritable.  Maybe it's the heat because I am not running my air conditioning.  Maybe I'm cranky because I spend too much time on social media.  Whatever.  Today I'm in a mood and I plan to release said mood by venting. Following is my list of what annoys me today. 

News That Isn't News
I am sick and tired of social media creating news from things that just aren't news worthy. Where to start?  Ok, how about the recent furor over the Hispanic young  man who sang the national anthem?  WTH!  So, a few anonymous racists wrote deragatory things about him.  Why is the public so surprised? So outraged? They know that racism exists towards the Hispanics in our country; after all - social media accounts are bolstered by all the "forwards" about Spanish not being our country's national language.

WTH does anyone care if signs are bi-lingual?  If phones ask you to press 2 if you want your message in Spanish? If TV ads sing a Spanish song?  What does it matter?  Our country's official language is English, and that's not changing.  When I was in Honolulu, most signs were in English and Japanese.  I didn't hear any outrage over that.  So why all the umbrage every time Spanish is spoken/written in this country?  (Could it have anything to do with the color of many of those speaking Spanish?) I get the feeling that the people complaining the loudest are the same ones who when/if they travel abroad grumble that everything is in a foreign language and nothing's in English.  Get over it. Our country needs to embrace bilingualism (says the person who realizes most Americans can't even speak proper English).

Weather Reports
WTH  Lately I've come to believe that our weather people see themselves as oracles.  Why does every weather report become Armageddon?  We don't have rain storms - we have tornadoes and hurricanes that blow the east coast to the west coast.  We don't have snow storms - we have blizzards that will send us back to the ice age.  Or so the weather people would like us to believe. "News" stations must interrupt regularly scheduled programs to make sure we know it is snowing, raining, whatever. Why? So Americans don't have to get off the couch to look out the window?  WTH  Weather reports work people into a frenzy to get to the grocery store before the storm.  And the public shops in droves before the storm.  What are they buying?  Look in a few carts - chips, cookies, cake, JUNK!  What really annoys me though, are the constant mini-weather reports that happen ALL DAY LONG while we, the public, wait for the storm that never gets here!! Or my favorite, the all day snow reports on all three major stations for the snow storm that never crippled the city.  I have a niece who is anxiety-ridden because of the weather.  We were out to dinner once, and a television at the fast food place ran a ticker about an upcoming snow storm.  The kid went into a panic and demanded we leave at that very moment.  I could barely calm her down.  Turns out, there are a lot of kids who have become terrified of the weather, not just my niece.   ENOUGH of the severe weather warnings.  Stop scaring the kids!!! (and annoying me, of course)  Yeah, you said it was going to thunderstorm today.  Well, pox on you weather mongers.  I hanged (hung?) my laundry out to dry, and it is done! Ha! Never would have done it had I listened to you! WTH

Whew. 

Only two rants and I am feeling better.  I need to turn off the TV and sit outside to read my book.  But, if you read through this whole thing, you've  already come to that conclusion, haven't you?

Have a great day.  Don't let the little stuff get you down.  Unless of course, you're desperate for a blog topic.

Craigslist

The first time I heard about anyone actually using Craigslist was when my friend Nancy moved and sold some furniture.  I was feeling kind of bored tonight, so I decided to peruse the ads.  Turns out, Craigslist is much more than a furniture store.

I checked out the personal ads.  Deciding to play it safe, I went to "platonic only."  There is a whole other world and a language I don't understand going on out there.  And I'll bet a lot of you readers are unaware of that world.  So, for your entertainment, let me share a few of the goodies I found.

ws/gs - m4w

familiar with ws/gs? It's been a while since I've 'been watered'. Wanting to find someone interested in exploring .
me: wm, professional, 54, 5'10", 180.

I have absolutely no idea what this means.  I'm guessing it is something sexual. But since it was in the platonic section, maybe it is just about gardening.

open minded - w4m - 24 (maryland)

Hello I am a 24 year old female in search of a male either White or Spanish, between the ages of 20 - 30, I am not looking for any weirdos ( i know thats asking for a lot on here), no married men, and most of all DD free. Its actually a story behind what Im looking for and some might think this is a little odd request but if you are an opened minded guy and wanna find out ......respond

Now we're getting somewhere.  Sorta.  But, what is DD?  Darling Daughter? Dungeons and Dragons? Dippity Do? Whatever it is, you must not be a weirdo and not have DD in order to answer this weirdo's ad.  And then, all you'll get is a story.  Seems to me this ad writer would do better by blogging.

Need a Pharmacists - 32 (Baltimore )

Im looking for a Pharmacists Who is currently employed Please reply if so Its an emergency

OK, here's one I get.  This must be code for a drug dealer.  But why must said dealer be employed?  And employed at what? Why would it matter if your drug dealer worked at Mickey D's?  He is employed - he's a drug dealer.  What more do you want?

just looking for someone to talk to... - w4m - 24 (baltimore)

Just looking for someone to talk to on this holiday weekend while my husband and I are going through some things...

LOL  Now, this person has the right idea!  Shrinks are around $100/hour.  So, this Craigslister will probably get excellent advice from someone who has a degree in Dr. Phil or Maury.  Or heck, maybe this one is sexual too.

 

board come to my place in pa - m4w - 45 (red lion )

 want a female to come over give me some company hang out to fall off to do something else too . I'll even make dinner for you . send me your picture please be serious

 

Ah, this one seems nice.  Obviously, the guy doesn't want to spend the evening reading because his spelling and sentence structure indicate he's never read a book in his life.  I'm not sure why he wants someone to "fall off" unless he's referring to falling off that erect penis he included in a picture with the ad. Yea right, he's going to make someone dinner.  More likely, he'll chain them to the metal cot in the soundproof room hidden in his basement.  And then he'll turn them into dinner!  Ugh.

 

 

I have come to the conclusion that if these are the "platonic" ads, I'm afraid to go anywhere near the boy-meets-girl ads.  To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure I want to sell furniture on Craigslist.  For all I know, advertising a rocking chair might be code for something that could get me arrested.

 

The Bees Knees

I remember taking walks many years ago when I dated David C.  He lived in a beautiful part of Maryland, lots of fields and rolling hills.  It was those damn rolling hills that got to me.  He gently suggested that losing weight would help my knees in the future.  I was keeping up with him, how dare he?

Well, the future is here and it is killing my knees.

My first clue that I was in trouble came after Dottie and I had taken a day trip to the beach.  When we got to my apartment, we groaned as we hauled our butts out of the car.  There was a cheerful kid across the street who called to us, "Hi ladies!!  Did you have a long drive? 'Cause you sound just like my grandma when she gets out of the car after a long trip." We exchanged glances that silently promised we'd never groan again while getting out or up.  Grandmas??  Yuck.

I can't enjoy the ocean like I used to.  I had once spent hours in the water riding the waves.  Now I stand on the edge and let the water slap at my feet.  I tried to go in the ocean last summer when it seemed relatively calm.  It only took a tiny wave to slap at my knees and knock me over.  Every time I tried to get up, another baby wave would push me down.  Finally, some lady offered me her arm.  She helped me up, and that was it for swimming in the ocean.  Talk about a sad day....

When I get up in the morning, my gait resembles that of an old-timer in the television show The Real McCoys. If you're old enough to remember Grandpappy Amos the head of the clan, then your knees probably hurt too.

I am not alone.  Gatherings with friends include reports on the state of their knees.  Some wear elastic braces.  Some get cortisone shots.  Some even use a walking stick on occasion (no canes for us, by gummy).  An increasing number of my friends have had replacement surgery.   One knee? Both knees? Partial? Full replacement? Titanium?  These are the buzz words of our conversations. I dread the surgery.  I had a plate put on my ankle in 2007 when I broke my leg.  The pain after the surgery was intense.  One of the nurses tried to calm me by telling me bone pain is the worst.  Well, my knees are knobby and bony and the only part of my body without an ounce of extra padding.  Surgery????  Oh, it makes me shudder.

There are a group of people who control pain by letting bees sting them.  Sorry, but the bees knees approach doesn't do it for me.  I'd like to try acupuncture; can anybody recommend someone good?  I am working on losing weight, but my favorite form of exercise is Zumba.  Last night's class involved more jumping than usual, and as a result, I'm in too much pain to go to Hip Hop Zumba tonight. What's a gal to do?

If you're young enough to read this and shake your head over what an old fogey I've become, then listen to your elder and take David's advice.  Lose weight if necessary.  Limit your participation in sports or fitness programs that pound your knees and dissolve the cartilage. And pray to high heaven that knee replacement surgery will have come a long way before you need it.

Growing old is not for sissies.

Things to Do Before the Cicadas Wake Up

I remember the last cicada invasion.  You could not get away from them.  I was constantly swatting at them as I walked from my house to the car.  Once at a flea market, a cicada landed on my shirt, and I could not get him to loosen his grip.  About a second before I was set to rip off my shirt in front of a bunch of strangers, a man pulled it off me.  My dog loved to eat them which was downright creepy.  She'd chase them all over the yard and chomp down.  When she'd answer nature's call, sometimes there were complete cicada skeletons in the poo, and always, always there were those red beady eyes staring up at me.

Since they are due to resurface this month, I've made a list of Things to Do Before the Cicadas Wake Up.  If you're squeamish about bugs, you might want to make your own list before it's too late.

1. Read Outside As Often As Possible:  I like to set up my chair on the lawn and under my tree.  It is the most peaceful place to read.  Today I read Amanda Knox's memoir.  It was a riveting story, and I didn't fall asleep once in my chair. I will not be able to read or nap if I have to swat at cicadas all day.
2. Hang My Wash Out:  I love to hang the laundry outside.  It smells so good and sunshine brightens it far more than bleach.  I won't hang it out after the cicadas show up.  I mean, really, who could sleep in sheets that have been sullied by the cicadas' wild mating season?  Who could wear a shirt that may show specks of cicada poo?  Not me!
3. Trim The Bushes and Trees of Dead Branches:  Need I explain this one?  Holding a chain saw and swatting at cicadas sounds like a Blue Cross/Blue Shield claim waiting to happen.
4. Attend Sarah and John's Wedding: Yes, I want them married before the cicadas start swarming.

It's a short list, but honestly, I don't have a lot of time.  They're due here in a matter of weeks.  However, this year unlike the last time, I have a secret weapon.  It's cruel and PETA may come after me because of it.  But, I have one of those electric bug swatters.  They look like badminton raquets; but with a new battery, they have an electric fence effect.  Bang!  Hit the cicada, listen to the sizzle,  and it's bye-bye beady eyes.  Quite frankly, it won't break my heart if I get a few stink bugs at the same time.