Wednesday, November 8, 2017

What Really Happened?

Last week, the news reported that Rand Paul was attacked from behind by a neighbor in his up-scale community, and had sustained five broken ribs in the ensuing scuffle. The attacker was described as a physician. The story raised way more questions than it answered.

What did Mr. Paul do to cause his neighbor to lash out in such an unprofessional manner? What would cause anyone who has taken an oath to do no harm and to value human life to attack another human?

I believe the key is in the description of the area in which they live as a community rather than a neighborhood. Community suggests it is an area with definite boundaries and a list of covenants or rules that everyone who buys into it agrees to follow.

I respectfully suggest that Mr. Paul has blatantly ignored one or more of the covenants of the community to such an extreme that his neighbor is frantic and lost his temper over Mr. Paul’s flagrant disregard to the rules of the community.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

If You Don't Have Anything Good To Say

The last half of this summer has been difficult for our family. My husband, a childhood polio victim, has post-polio syndrome. Symptoms of the original disease have returned: muscle aches and severe fatigue along with weakness in other parts of the body.

My husband has walked with a cane for the last 55 years or so, but now, he's experiencing weakness in his hands and arms forcing him to depend upon an electric wheelchair.

The blow to his morale is devastating.

There are countless other aging polio victims facing this same dilemma The doctors think that the good muscles wear out from over use but can't be certain. As far as the medical community is concerned, the cause and cure for polio have been found. Only a minor percentage of the population suffers from post-polio. Most are senior citizens and won't be around long enough to make research on the condition profitable.  

My husband has been told to exert himself as little as possible to conserve what strength he has left. All we can do is take each day as it comes and hope he will reach a plateau in the degeneration process, adjust to it and have a reasonable quality of life for the time he has left. The prospect is pretty grim.

But whatever happens, life must go on. I'm back now to my blog and sincerely appreciate your kind attention and patience during my absence.

Junk Food Stew 

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Cut the Girl Some Slack

Mrs. Bridge by Evans Connell is the wife’s version of a pre-World War II marriage.  The couple live in Kansas City where her husband is a workaholic attorney and her life is centered on their three children and the country club.

When Mr. Bridge proposes to her, he promises she will have an easy life with every luxury, and he keeps his word a little too well. There’s no real communication between these two. Mrs. Bridge tries now and again but Mr. Bridge discourages it. She doesn't know how to talk to him, and he discourages it.  
Neither has been trained to be intellectually curious. They enter into the marriage with a set ideal of how their lives should play out and never vary from it. No room is left for individual growth or development or their relationship.

Mrs. Bridge has a full time housekeeper and a laundress. Once the children are grown, she finds her life is empty. She has nothing to fill her time and feels lost. 

Others in her social circle are also caught in this void. The most progressive thinker winds up committing suicide. Mrs. Bridge hides the cause of death from her family and only discusses it superficially with her other close women friends.

Although these characters live in the central part of the country, they are  isolated from the less attractive aspects of American life beyond upper their own country club set. As a young adult, Mrs. Bridge does volunteer work handing out used clothing to the poor, but wears gloves. Symbolically, she’s out of touch with the world.

Upon hearing that World War II is approaching, one of her friends remarks she hopes the war won’t last long and take too many of the young men. It isn't the loss of life that worries her but rather the concern there won't be enough men available for her grocer to employ a delivery man. 

This novel of manners is heart wrenching and thought provoking It was particularly amusing and endearing to read how this highly structured woman struggles with rearing a boy.  

Mrs. Bridge is a sympathetic character. She was raised to be a good person, wife and mother and does her best to follow the dictates of her world. It takes way more gumption to go against the standards of our social group than most of us have. It’s really too bad this well-meaning, superficial woman is pretty much smothered by the expectations of others.

It’s almost enough to make me grateful for housework, yard work, laundry and errands. The emphasis was on “almost”.

Friday, June 30, 2017

A Girl Can Always Dream

Considering today’s tweet from the man in the Oval Office and his latest approval ratings, I believe the majority of people in this country would agree he is a seriously flawed individual without the slightest inkling of what it takes to be the leader of the Free World. The concept of dignity is obviously beyond his grasp.

You can take the good old boy out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the good old boy.

I was pleased to hear leaders from both parties react with equal disapproval. If the President continues to behave like a total juvenile mental case, perhaps it will shame our Congress into approaching their positions with more dignity and statesmanship rather than political gain.  Some good may come out of this election after all.

Monday, June 26, 2017

Poor Timing and No Sense of History

The current Catholic Bishop here in Memphis was assigned to this diocese a year ago. He announced recently that most every priest in the diocese will be reassigned.

In this time of political unrest, the people have turned to their church for solace. They need the comfort of the priest they know and have an established relationship.

The Bishop’s argument for this change is that the message should be the emphasis of Catholicism rather than the priest.  There is general discontent among the faithful.

It is unfortunate that this current Bishop has not familiarized himself with recent Catholic history of the Mid-South. In the mid-1960’s, Memphis and Nashville were part of the same diocese. I moved into the area during the upset, and am not sure exactly what happened, but I do know the Bishop upset the Catholics of west Tennessee.

What followed was a most unpleasant period. Volunteerism and contributions to the church dropped dramatically. It was only a matter of a couple of years until Memphis was granted its own diocese.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out. Will this Bishop be “promoted” and a new one sent here?

Saturday, June 24, 2017

The Diagnosis

This morning I took George, our better than standard poodle, to the vet. The last couple of days he’s been acting as though he wasn’t feeling completely up to par.

We thought at first the weather might have been the problem. A tropical storm hit the Texas and Louisiana shores causing heavy rain and high winds in the Mid-South. George is terrified of electrical storms. When one hits in the middle of the night, he forces himself between my night stand and the wall and then tries to dig his way right under my head between the mattress and innersprings. But yesterday morning there was no lightning only strong winds and lots of rain.

He followed me out for the papers and wet against a mailbox post before coming back in the garage, but he refused to join me in the house. He lay down in the doorway between garage and kitchen staring at me with pitiful eyes. I dried him with a beach towel and left him covered with it from head to foot where he remained looking doubly pathetic until I finally insisted he come in the house.

He went to his bed in the den where I covered him with the towel and a blanket. He stayed that way for over an hour. By the time I got ready to take him to the doctor, George was beginning to act more like himself so we stayed home.

This morning he was acting puny again, and since its Saturday with no Sunday office hours, we went to the vet. I don’t blame the dog one bit for not fully appreciating the vet. They use a rectal thermometer, and I don’t want to know how they get a urine sample.

Although he has gained three pounds, George passed his physical with flying colors. There was no apparent reason for his change in behavior. It might have been the weather or it might have been another case of ADR (Ain’t Doin’ Right).

They took a blood sample to be sure and to establish a baseline for any future problems. It cost me $220. It was worth every penny to make sure The Dog was okay.

Shopping at Walmart

I found a keychain in a drawer. It was a double 3” X 5” piece of Lucite with a snapshot of all our children taken about twenty years ago at Graceland. It’s the last shot I have of them all together before our son’s schizophrenia consumed him changing our lives forever.

I took it to Walmart to be copied. I only go there when I have no other source. I resent the fact that it has changed retail in our country. I used to love shopping in Dime Store in small towns. Besides putting countless small family owned stores out of business, Walmart robbed us of a small piece of our regional diversity.

Walmart controls the prices manufacturers charge for their product and therefore the quality. They are also extremely slow to pay them.

It doesn’t require a degree in labor relations to see Walmart is not a great place to work. They pay minimum wage and squeeze the employees as hard as they do their suppliers.  Female employees in the past have charged the company with discrimination.

But despite all this, there are occasions when I feel compelled to shop there, and this was one of them. I had a choice between patronizing Walmart and driving across town to start a complicated and lengthy process with Graceland for copies my snapshot. It was a no brainer decision.
The woman who waited on me was polite and most helpful. She obviously wasn’t familiar with the process, but between the two of us, we made it work.

Pressed for time, as usual, I decided to do my food shopping there as well. The selection might not have been as varied as in other stores, but it was clean, the prices were good and the other shoppers were most helpful and more polite than in my local Kroger. Part of that might be because most of the Walmart shoppers weren’t wearing ear buds.

In this country’s political upheaval of the past year, the large percentage of our population trapped below the poverty line with no means of escape has become glaringly apparent. This country is no better or stronger than its weakest citizen. Cultural values as well as politics and economics are the cause.
What’s the remedy? I don’t pretend to know, but I am going to change one aspect of my own behavior in hopes of starting a trend. Anyone who has read my book, Raiders and Horse Thieves, Memoir of a Central Texas Baby Boomer, knows my origins are exceedingly humble. As a result, I’ve never looked down on anyone for being poor. I reserve that for politicians who chew gum on the dais during the Presidential Inauguration.

But I have looked at those series of pictures on Facebook of people in Walmart behaving or dressed out of the norm. Never again will I participate. It’s time for us to stop laughing at those of us less fortunate and start looking for ways to help them help themselves.