A Sunday morning love story

Since I am tired of writing about “he who shall not be named,” let me offer a quick love story. It is all true and happened to a good friend and his charming and funny wife, who passed way too early.

My friend Jack was divorced with two sons. He was also a talented consultant who was devoted to his clients. He traveled to an internal two day meeting in the headquarter city of his company.

There he met Paula who was in for the same meeting from a different office three states away. They hit it off extremely well, but the flirtatious relationship was limited to just that. They returned to their cities parting on good terms.

Just before the seminar, Jack had shared his frustration with David, another consultant in a different office, who was delinquent on an assignment for his client. Again, Jack was devoted to his clients.

David felt badly for slighting the client and Jack, so he sent him a card saying “You are in my thoughts,” signing it with a big scribbled “D.” The card arrived after Jack returned from the seminar.

The card made Jack wonder who had sent it. To him, the scribbled “D” resembled a “P.” He was not certain, but hopeful that it was from Paula. So, he sheepishly called her and asked if she had sent such a note and, if she did, the feeling was reciprocal. Paula said she had not, but wished that she had. She had similar feelings.

So, with a misinterpreted card about a different issue, two kindred spirits had the most straightforward of conversations. They remained in love until she passed away. They were a delightful couple. My wife liked Paula so much, they would get together when Jack and I traveled.

When I think back on this, it is like an adult’s version of anonymous Valentine Card. It wasn’t until later that Jack learned of the real author of the card. As I got to know the author later, he liked to retell the story as well. Everyone likes a good love story.

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A nice memory – Country Roads

As summer approaches, many states are airing scenic commercials to woo vacationers. I think the most clever is Maine’s where they play up the abbreviation of “ME.” But, the one that brings back memories is that of West Virginia. They use John Denver’s popular song “Take me home, country roads” as they reveal beautiful scenery.

Here are the first few stanzas and chorus:

“Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mamma, take me home
Country roads

All my memories, gather round her
Modest lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye.”

While I have traveled often to the state, my evoked memories are of friendship. I have written before about three boyhood friends who remain friends today. As we tooled around in one of our cars as teens going to a ball game or event, this song would come on the radio.

We each would belt out our car karioke harmonizing with John Denver. Sometimes, we would not even need the radio. Mind you, none of us were even close to being good at singing, but that did not stop us.

We sang other songs of the day, but this one was special. I think it is due to the number of times Denver used his chorus lines. It may also have been the interesting descriptive words he used of the scenery and people.

Now it serves as a life mile marker. It immediately brings forward a joyous time. As you read this, what song or songs are mile markers for you?

Stepford Wives, Blade Runner and Ex Machina are here

I have seen snippets about this, but my wife turned over to a Dr. Oz show today whose subject was about “sexbots.” If you have not seen these, they exist, look somewhat real, and have artificial intelligence. Yikes. Dr. Oz first interviewed psychologists, one who was alarmed, while the other who felt it was OK. The former noted those who would be missing out on real intimacy plus some who may have a tendency to act out more violent fantasies, while the latter noted that people need companionship even if electronic.

Then, he interviewed one of the inventors, who dutifully said it is like owners talking with pets, with the robot being more of a companion. The robots were programmed with favorite movies, books, etc. that could be espoused, if asked. He noted if the owner tried to treat the robot violently (sexual assault, rape), it would shut down. He added with such a high cost (about US$10,000), it would be bad for the owner to treat the robot poorly.

And, if that was not a bridge too far, he said some have made the robot look like a former wife who had passed away. The thought of “Stepford Wives” came to mind. As for the companionship, I was recalling the recent “Blade Runner 2049” movie which updated the earlier version made in the early 1980s. In both, the “replicants” included some that were built to be consorts to men (and I presume women), where few of the opposite sex were present. In the latter, one of the replicants had a holographic live-in girlfriend who offered the companionship. The theme of “Ex Machina” is about a talented AI programmer being asked to test a lifelike, attractive companion.

So, what about this? In the category of “to each his (or her) own,” I guess if this is what floats your boat and provides a solution to loneliness, so be it. I guess we each have fantasy lovers that we can dream about, so is this a natural evolution? Yet, it still gives me the willies. Plus, most movies about robots usually do not end well for humans. So, maybe this could lead to our extinction or replacement. Maybe it will lead to test tube babies as in “Brave New World.” Or, maybe we will become cyborgs like the group in “Star Trek Next Generation” called “The Borg” a collective intelligence embodied in former humanoids.

Tell me what you think? Is this a good thing or a horrible path to follow? I did think of a humorous use for women if they had their own sexbot. The robot would have to be adept at foreplay and cuddling, but would also take out the trash and do the dishes without being asked and could fix a clogged drain or install a dimmer switch. And, if it needed to ask directions, it would do so. But, that internal GPS would forego the need.

 

Remember those foods you hated as kids?

When I was a little, my mother would impose foods on me that simply did not pass muster. My younger voice would claim something was gross or yucky. Now, some of these same foods are delicious. Did my palate change or am I open too trying more foods? Maybe it is a little of both.

A good example is orange marmalade. It is a little bitter because of the sliver of orange peels, so as a child it did not measure up to the overly sweet jellies and jams. Now, it is a staple best used with peanut butter on an English muffin or cinnamon raisin bagel.

Another example is fried okra. Why would anyone want to eat such a thing? Now, if it is an available vegetable at a cafe or diner, it is a must order. One BBQ restaurant serves fried okra as an appetizer. The other excellent use of okra is in gumbo. So, this hard to pick vegetable is well-worth it.

Another vegetable whose taste had to be nurtured over time is collard greens (and turnip greens). I would not touch the stuff early on, but my grandmother imposed them on me, even teaching us how to cook them. Like fried okra, greens are a must order as a side at a restaurant.

My wife would add brussel sprouts and beets. Now, she loves them both and will eat pickled beets out of a jar. I can tolerate brussel sprouts, but beets remain a bridge too far for me. She can have full and sole access to the beet jar.

What are some of your adult-learned favorites? When did the tide turn in their favor?

Some needed humor

America is in need of some humor. With such an unnerving man at the helm, it seems we could run aground so easily. Here are a few thoughts, which I hope will bring a smile.

The President says he is for the little guys, but we did not realize he actually meant short billionnaires.

The President wants to MAGA, but we did not realize “great” was spelled “grate” as we are getting on the nerves of our allies.

The President threw a lawn party in May for the House Republicans when they passed an ACA repeal and replace bill. His staff did not have the heart to tell him it needed to go through the Senate. “Aw, we have to go through this again?”

After Hurricane Maria, the President visited  the US Virgin Islands. Later he said he had a terrific meeting with the President of the Virgin Islands. Ahem, excuse me sir, but aren’t you the President of the US Virgin Islands?

Have you noticed a trend that the President likes to grade his efforts? I think I got a ten on my handling of Puerto Rico. None of my predecessors have done as good a job at reaching out to families of our deceased military. Maybe students should try this after a test.

There is an old line that when your boss says you are doing a great job to the media, you better get your resume ready. When the President holds a press conference to tell everyone you and he have a terrific relationship with you standing there, watch your back. You may be Brutus, but this Caesar has the knife.

That is all for now. I hope some of this brought you a smile. Have a great week.

 

 

Oops…that would be me

We are an imperfect lot and there are times when things just don’t go our way. As a 59 year-old, I have had my share of faux pas or as I call them “oops.”

When I was ten, I was a pretty fair baseball  player and would pitch on occasion. After putting a fence around our outfield, every hitter wanted to be the first to hit one over it. Unfortunately, the pitcher on the throwing end of that homer would be embarrassed – oops, that would be me.

I have often said God has a sense of humor to keep us humble. While playing golf with some attorney friends, I had the good fortune to birdie a long par five, something I don’t often do. Walking to the next tee full of confidence, I tee my ball up and proceed to whiff with my swing. That means I did not make contact with the ball – oops, that would be me.

Each October in the US, we honor women  who have been challenged by breast cancer. A colleague of mine led efforts to have mobile mammograms for our female employees conducting over 11,000 detecting nine cancers. She was listening to me explain to someone about our specific efforts during “breast awareness month.” She said that would be “breast CANCER awareness month.” – oops, that would be me.

I have had to do a significant number of presentations and speeches over the years. In so doing, I have had far more than a few oops. Here are a few:

– Don’t wear a wool suit to speak, no matter how cold it is outside, as you will sweat bullets – oops, that would be me;

– Don’t number how many things you are about to say as you may forget one – oops, that would be me;

– Don’t reopen the presentation summary after the decision-maker makes the decision you were suggesting, as you just might unwind the decision – oops, that would be me; and

– Don’t forget to number the pages of your  speaker notes, as they can sometimes get mixed up – oops, that would be me.

The oops are too many to list. Beware of forwarding emails as there may be surprise emails not for public consumption at the bottom of email streams. Do not perpetuate reply all emails, be very judicious. Don’t communicate too aggressive a turnaround time if you don’t have to as you are setting yourself up for failure. Avoid being critical in email, do it in person or by phone if you cannot.

Oops happen. Take the time to review your work and prepare for meetings. And, when they do happen, say you are sorry and fix the problem. Then learn from your mistakes. Remember, God has a sense of humor, so it is OK to laugh along.

A man won’t be shot while doing the dishes

Staying married takes effort. The same could be said about any relationship. If you don’t work at it, it won’t last. The title is a funny, but true metaphor that will keep you married – if you do the dishes, even if only periodically, you at least will survive another day and not get shot. There are two messages in this saying – share the load and keep your sense of humor. Since we need a break these days, let me focus on the humor.

Comedian Tom Arnold had the funniest line which seems to apply to our household. When asked by the women on “The View” about how long does a physically romantic interlude last, he replied “thirty minutes.” When the women were surprised at his answer, he clarified, “yes, five  minutes of foreplay, five minutes of sex and twenty minutes to get all the pillows off the bed.” My wife and I roared with this answer as we have so many decorative pillows that take up more than 1/2 the bed.

Speaking of beds, in our house the last one up makes the bed. I sincerely try to make up the bed like my wife does, but apparently I fall short of perfection. My wife sighs and then pulls, smoothes and tugs to remedy my effort. My guess is my female readers who are or have been married are nodding yes as they read this. My wife tends to arise later, so it may this very reason. Or, it could be the first one up has to feed the cat and dog, make the coffee and get the paper.

There is one more chore with the cat, who we found out is diabetic last spring. He is doing well, but each morning and evening, we have to give the cat insulin. So, a common question in our house is strange, “Did you shoot the cat?” He will often come to us after eating and we will pet him, then give him his insulin. Yet, he will sometimes vamoose if he senses something is up or if the dog chases him away. Herding a cat is an art form.

The sense of humor thing keeps us honest. We often laugh at ourselves and feel open to teasing. Watching shows and movies are always interesting if they have a sad event. I will tear up with any scene where a parent/ child moment occurs over a tragedy or reunion. My wife will ball over any extended illness scene having lost her brother to Leukemia. So, we tend to tease each other about our sappiness. My wife likes to joke how I try to tactically wipe a tear away without her noticing, which I usually fail to achieve. I will asking “are you crying?” “No,” is often her answer through tears.

Share the load, laugh a lot. And, a well placed hug or caress never hurts