Mean Girls

Long before this movie came out, there were mean girls. Almost anyone can look back at her high school or college days and remember at least one girl who was just nasty. 

Lately, on my Facebook feed, I have been getting someone in my "you might know" section who was that "mean girl" in HS. I don't remember ever doing anything to this girl which would warrant her behavior towards me. But, for some reason, she hated me. She was also ugly to some other students, and even some teachers. Back then, I just tried to give her a wide berth and stay out of her way. 

Since high school, I have heard bits and pieces about her over the years. I don't think she has had the easiest life. I feel sorry for her now. 

Now that I am older and far removed from my high school days, I am able to wonder what was going on in her life to cause her to strike out in such a hateful way. I may never know. I do know that I am not going to "friend" her on Facebook. At least not at the present time. She may have turned into the nicest person. I just don't know. 

Maybe someday I will feel like reaching out. But, today is not that day. 

Recording

Years ago, I made a recording of some show tunes at a little place located in a Nashville mall. It was not a super professional job, by any stretch, but it was fun. My family and friends seemed to enjoy the CDs I gave them and I felt like I sounded OK.  

Cue trying to record again 20 years later. Twenty years of reflux, allergies, asthma and a neuromuscular disorder. Not to mention 20 years of AGING have taken more of a toll than I realized. 

Over the years, I have tried to take care of my voice. I have stopped singing for months at a time when vocal problems arose. I have tried to maintain good technique. I don't smoke or drink. I have been realistic about lowering my repertoire as the years have gone by. I still practice daily. But nothing can totally stave off the effects of age and illness. 

I have been reading about how other singers have dealt with aging voices. Opera singers change roles or retire, pop singers take things down a step or two and encourage more audience participation in concerts, etc. It all has to do with being realistic, I suppose. 

I don't think I am ready to hang up singing just yet. There is a big difference between singing a song once in a church where a slightly off note might be heard once and hopefully forgotten in the grand scheme of things and on a recording which might be listened to over and over. My sound engineer assures me that his tools can mitigate factors that I am hypercritical of. 

I just have to make peace, as most singers do, over time in one way or another, with the voice I have now as opposed to the voice I had 20 and 30 years ago. There is a saying that time marches on...all across your face! Well, time also marches on...all across your voice! I will learn to be happy with both! 

Preaching Station

As of today, Hermanville United Methodist is no longer an official "church." We are now what is known as a "preaching station." 

Over the past two years, we have lost key members to death, moving, and, sadly, to other churches. Our membership was already small. We simply could not financially continue to support the salary and retirement of an assigned pastor with only 7 official remaining members.

So, we will be meeting twice a month. The messages will be given by guest speakers and ministers. This will be a new experience for the people of Hermanville UMC. We don't know how it is going to go. I am praying and hoping for us to be able to stay together as a church family in some fashion. 

When I think of this situation, I think of this song. I hope our preaching station really helps us to realize that WE are the church and that we can continue in this new form. Prayers appreciated. 

I am the church! You are the church!
We are the church together!
All who follow Jesus,
all around the world!
Yes, we're the church together!

The church is not a building;
the church is not a steeple;
the church is not a resting place;
the church is the people.

The Gift of Love

As I was looking through some hymns recently, I came across this one and the message really spoke to me. The Gift of Love is an old traditional tune. The first lines are in the photo at left. The verse ends with:
"But have not love, my words are vain, as sounding brass, and hopeless gain."

Some of the best performances I have ever witnessed were by people who did not have a "slick" speaking or singing delivery. But, I could tell that they truly loved what they were doing and who they were doing it for. 

Conversely, I have been to performances (speeches, concerts, etc) where it was obvious that there was more ego than love involved. Some of these performers seemed to no longer love what they were doing or who they were doing it for and it shows. No matter how polished the performances, there is an element missing. When I can't feel any true enjoyment on the performer's part, he or she has lost me. 

I know we can't all love what we do all the time. I get it. But, if we consistently can't do what we do with love, maybe it is time to find another line of work. 

The song continues. 

Last Words

Sometimes, out of morbid curiosity, I will look up the Facebook page of someone who has recently passed on. Often, there will be the tributes from loved ones lamenting the loss of the departed. 

Sometimes there will be posts visible that were written by the deceased. Or how they describe themselves in that brief bio that shows up in the "About" section. 

A couple of times recently, I have been shocked at the profanity-laced offerings I found. And it made me think: If I were to die, what would I want my last Facebook post to be? A hateful comment putting down an entire race or class of people? A piece of unsubstantiated gossip? Name calling of people on the other side of the political aisle? Once it has been posted, someone has seen it, even if one chooses to remove it at some point. 

Facebook may very well be the lasting repository of your last words. 

What would you want them to be? 

Congenital Myopathy

After years of being misdiagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis, this is what the final verdict was a number of years ago. My symptoms can sometimes mimic MG to a startling degree, so the misdiagnosis was not really surprising. 

Since I retired, for the most part, I have been able to keep the symptoms (muscle weakness, difficulty swallowing and speaking, some breathing difficulty, and my right eye closing) under control. As long as I get the rest I need (and I need more than the average person!) I can manage. Sometimes I feel pretty good. Other times, not so much. 

This week, I got a refresher lesson on what happens when I push too far. I made it pretty well at the Annual Conference of the Mississippi United Methodist Church on the first day. I was able to get up at 4:30 and begin the process of taking my meds in the prescribed order, getting breakfast, etc. I got there by 7 to get a handicap parking spot and went in to begin the day.  By almost 5 PM, when the day session was to end, I was getting tired but made it home. Things that I don't really think about, like trying to balance sitting on my walker or in an unsupportive chair make a difference, as my muscles have to work harder even to sit. 

The next day, I could tell I was weak, but I needed to get back to the conference for the voting portions of our agenda. By the time I got there, my right eye was nearly closed and I was shaky. I got through the morning session and most of the memorial service. After that, I had to holler "Uncle!" I had just enough energy to get home and collapse in my chair. This morning, I knew better than to push it further. 

I get a fair amount of "Well, we are tired too!" from other people. There is a difference. For many years, I could push through "tired." But now, I can't push through congenital myopathy symptoms. Not safely, anyway. 

Since Hermanville UMC will no longer be a "church" after the end of June but will be a preaching station, I will no longer be a voting member of our annual conference. I will miss seeing the friends I have there, but in a way, it may be a blessing. 

The body has spoken. And it is saying "no." 

My Best

When I was growing up, my parents never asked for perfection in my school work. They just told me to do my best. I can't say I always did that, but, for the most part, I tried. Being part of groups like choir and band instilled in me a sense of wanting to do my part so that the whole was as good as it could be. 

As I grew older and went into the working world, I was not the perfect employee, but I did always try to do my best from day to day. When I was given any freedom in my work, I tried to make it a better place, more organized, and a little happier, if possible. 

When I was forced to retire when a neuromuscular condition became too difficult to compensate for, I began to do some volunteer work as I was able. Again, even with volunteer work, I wanted to do my best. 

When I first read this scripture, it really stuck with me. Even now, in my volunteer work in my church and with other organization, I take it to heart. I want to give my best. 

"Servants, do what you’re told by your earthly masters. And don’t just do the minimum that will get you by. Do your best. Work from the heart for your real Master, for God, confident that you’ll get paid in full when you come into your inheritance." Colossians 3:23 

What's My Line?

Recently, I wrote about watching,  To Tell The Truth on Buzzr TV. Well, I ran out of those episodes and fortunately stumbled on another great game show from the 1950s. 

What's My Line?  featured a panel of 4 celebrities, a moderator and a guest whose occupation had to be guessed by the aforementioned panelists. There was also a "mystery" celebrity on each show. These were quite well known at the time and the different ways these celebrities disguised their voices to help evade detection was hilarious. 

The collection of episodes that I stumbled upon were from 1955. The panel was comprised of Dorothy Kilgallen, journalist, Fred Allen, comedian and radio host, Arlene Francis, actress and talk show host, and Bennet Cerf, one of the founders of Random House publishing. I was not familiar with any one of these except for Arlene Francis. It was quite refreshing to see intelligent, well dressed, well spoken, and polite people on my television screen! Another thing that struck me was the fact that these people did not seem to be terrified of looking their ages. The women were not overly made up, receding hairlines were not combed over, and reading glasses were put on as needed. John Charles Daly, the moderator, was a distinguished journalist who looked as if he was having the time of his life hosting this show, which he did for 17 years. 

The guest's occupations ranged from that of an elderly lady who would dive into a barrel of water for a local grocery store, to a man who played the back end of a horse in Vaudeville, to the first commissioned male nurse in the US Army. 

My husband will even watch this show with me. Now that we have watched Buzzr's collection, I have found more on YouTube. It is just as much fun to watch today as it must have been back when it aired (before I was born for the most part). If you want an escape from the realities of today, check out What's My Line?.

Tornadoes

Fortunately, no houses actually blew away, but there was quite a bit of damage last Saturday as not one, not two, but THREE tornadoes hit my small city of Vicksburg, Mississippi. 

For the most part, we have really been spared in the tornado department since the big one hit in December of 1953. I would think that one would be headed right for us, only to have it go above us or dissipate before it got to us. And, believe me, I have been thankful for that. And I am beyond grateful for the fact that no lives were lost this time. 

It looks like we might be in for another round of bad weather and possible tornadoes tomorrow. Everyone be weather aware and do what it takes to stay as safe as possible. We can replace the homes and businesses. We can plant more trees. What we can't get is another YOU.  

Petty

Alas, I am not talking about this guy (RIP Tom Petty). I am talking about petty people. Is anyone else tired of this seemingly endless attitude? The "If things don't go my way, I am going to take my toys and go home." mentality? An automatic reaction of spitefulness when faced with a decision that does not go in one's particular favor? The "I am going to do what I can to sabotage your efforts" frame of mind? 

I know I a guilty of this sometimes. In today's world, it can be hard not to be petty. Difficult not to react to circumstances. And, sometimes, occasions practically scream for a less than gracious response. The hard part is making the effort to rise above the urge to be petty. There are days when I fight the urge more times than I like to admit. 

Faced with a show of pettiness from someone else, I have to make a choice. And I pray that my choice is this:

To Tell The Truth

March was a very difficult month for me. My friend Mary Alice passed away from cancer at age 57. A few days later, my 64-year-old stepbrother died after being severely burned while at work. Add normal stresses of multiple health issues and chronic fatigue and I had gotten to the point where I could not really focus on much of anything. 

As I was surfing my FireTV for something mindless to watch, I came across some 1961 episodes of an old game show. To Tell the Truth, was a favorite of my mother's way back when. I can remember watching it with her as a child in Russum, Mississippi. Tom Poston, Kitty Carlisle, Orson Bean, and Peggy Cass were regulars by the time I was old enough to remember the show. 

I decided to watch the first episode, just for kicks. It was quite a hoot to see a young Betty White, Johnny Carson, and Don Ameche. This show was just the ticket for mindless entertainment and some laughs during a difficult time. Most of the contestants were very well coached and fooled me at least half of the time. Even the commercials are a hoot, especially the ones for Anacin and Dristan. This one cracked me up. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmk6kCNRCo0

If you need a dose of mindless fun, go check out, To Tell The Truth on Amazon Prime Video and see if you can tell who the REAL __________ is! 

"The"

*Rant Alert*

This quote by Bob Goff has really resonated with me this week. Especially the first line. GOD MAKES PEOPLE. 

If we truly believe that the good Lord made us all, then people are people. Plain and simple. At least to me. 

Recently, I have experienced a number of folks saying things that I have found offensive. I am not the kind of person who is offended by everything, but this bugs me. 

It's using THE to describe groups of PEOPLE. 

One person refers to PEOPLE who are LGBTQ as "THE Gays." Another did not want to go to a certain place because of "THE Blacks." I hear this all the time. THE Jews. THE Muslims. THE Mexicans. Since I have dear people in my life who are LGBTQ, Jewish, Black, Muslim, and Mexican I simply don't like hearing them referred to as "THE" anything. 

How about using PEOPLE instead of THE? PEOPLE of the Jewish faith. PEOPLE from the Middle East. PEOPLE who are LGBTQ. 

People are people. 

Spreading Calm

Yesterday I was at my local pharmacy when an elderly gentleman walked up fuming because they did not have his prescription filled in the time frame they promised. 

I could see that the pharmacy staff was absolutely swamped. His particular prescription required a call to another party and the pharmacist just had not had time to make that call. The gentleman sat down near me to wait some more. I could tell that he was not a happy camper. 

So, I decided to engage him in conversation. Soon, he was no longer fretting about his medicine as he told me about his late wife, his children, his jobs, etc. I was able to keep him talking until the pharmacist could finally make the call (and was put on hold for several minutes) and had his prescription ready. 

Many people do not realize that most of the delays in service in a retail environment have little to do with the staff on the floor. The corporate office only allows so many hours for employee scheduling. It is usually not enough, especially in the pharmacy. 

I actually find myself trying to spread calm quite a bit when lines are long and people are impatient. Or when their orders are wrong in a restaurant. A smile and a bit of conversation can diffuse situations that could get ugly. Fussing is not going to make a line move any faster. If someone appears to be in a tearing hurry and I am not in any kind of rush, I let them go ahead of me. A little kindness can go a long way. 

Back to pharmacists, they have one of the toughest jobs that I can imagine. Not only are they tasked with filling prescriptions, but they often have to call doctors, give flu and shingles shots, and go out on the floor to help customers decide what they need for a particular ailment. Often there is only one pharmacist on duty with only a couple of techs to help. They have people at the drive-through window, the consultation area, the drop off, and the pickup section. And everyone wants their medicine yesterday! 

So be kind to those pharmacists and other people who serve the public. And if you can help someone else be kind, do that too. It's worth it. 

Lookin' Good

One of the most recent things on Facebook is the "How Hard Did the Years Hit You" challenge. Participants are encouraged to post their first and current profile pictures side by side. 

Most of my friends have been on Facebook for around 10 years. Without exception, they look better in their current photographs. At least to me, they do. Even with a few extra wrinkles and/or gray hairs, everyone looks more relaxed. The smiles are more genuine. 

There are things about getting older that transcend mere looks and it shows in these photographs. There seems to be more wisdom in the facial expressions. More acceptance of life as it is. More of a "this is how I look now and that is OK with me" vibe. 

I remember some commercial for hair coloring back in the '70s that featured the tag line "You're not getting older, you're getting better." 

Believe it. 

Eyeglass Chains

I just ordered this eyeglass chain from 220PennyLane on Etsy. 

I seem to remember making fun of little old ladies who wore eyeglass chains when I was a kid. I seldom saw the ladies who wore them actually take their glasses off, so I thought they were just another piece of jewelry. And quite often worn on top of too many other baubles. 

Alas, time has caught up with me. I find myself taking my glasses off dozens of times a day. Despite my expensive prescription for progressive lenses, I can often see some things much better by removing my glasses and squinting. Often, there is no good place to put my glasses as I juggle them and whatever I am trying to read at the same time. So, this evening, I decided to give in to "old ladydom" and buy an eyeglass chain. I searched Etsy until I found one I liked, and reluctantly pushed the "buy now" button. 

No drugstore faux metal chain for me. If I am going to do this, it will be in style. 

Sixty IS the new 40, right? 

Loungewear?

Recently I saw an ad for plus-size lingerie in my Facebook feed. It said something to the effect of relaxing in style. This "style" was an underwire bra and form-fitting underdrawers! 

Honey, there was nothing that looked relaxing about THAT getup! 

When I want to relax, I want as little fabric next to me as possible. Granny panties and some big ole, loose-fitting jammies are much more my "style." And they don't even have to match. I am not wearing a bra unless I am leaving the house or expecting company. In my book, there is nothing about a bra that is relaxing in any way, no matter how comfortable the ad says it is. 

Come on, plus size companies. Get real. 
Seriously. 

Bryan

The photo on the left was taken last Christmas. The one on the right was taken yesterday.

My nephew, Bryan is in graduate school for electrical engineering at Mississippi State University. He has an assistantship as well as a full load of classes. As someone who did the grad school thing twice, I know how hard it is to get to a gym and count calories while juggling the rigors of post grad education. 

I had the privilege of driving Bryan home from Starkville yesterday. We talked about everything from comic books, to music, to movies, to which writing style was required for engineering papers, to where his childhood friends are now. 

The sweet, shy child I remember has become a confident, articulate young man who values friends and family. He knows what he wants in the future and has a plan to get there. He has also inspired his decrepit old Auntie to do something about her own weight. 

Keep up the good work, young nephew! 

Missing Dad

Seven years ago tonight, my Daddy passed away. Bill and I had been sitting with him in the hospital and had just been relieved by my brother-in-law. We went to get a bite to eat, and headed home. Almost as soon as we walked in the door, the phone was ringing. Daddy was gone. 

I truly believe that, on some level, a terminally ill person is able to make some choice as to his or her time of death. All three of us kids had been there when my mama died. I honestly think Daddy waited until my calm and cool brother-in-law was there before he took his final breath. I also think that he waited for my niece to get home from college to say her goodbyes. 

I never realized how much I would miss this man. And how much of him is in me. He was a social creature who had many friends and loved to visit. Daddy loved a good joke. He also had a great time razzing his Ole Miss friends when their football team was beaten by his LSU Tigers. I have his coloring and his hazel eyes. I have his sense of fair play. I try very hard to be honest and upright in all my dealings, just like he was. 

Happy 7th Heavenly Anniversary, Daddy. 

That RED stuff!

One Thanksgiving, when my brother was just a tot, he looked at his dinner and asked where the "red stuff" was. 

Puzzled, my parents and grandmother began trying to figure out what this "red stuff" was. Ketchup? No. Cherries? No. Spiced apples? No. None of those were the "red stuff" my brother was looking for. 

Finally, it was discovered that the cranberry sauce was not on the table. Mamaw found the can in the refrigerator, opened it, and put it on its little crystal tray. 

My brother apparently lit up like a Christmas tree and pointed to the cranberry sauce. THIS was the RED STUFF he had been wanting. 

Now, every Thanksgiving, we tease him about his red stuff. I don't believe it has ever been forgotten since that particular Thanksgiving Day. 

Make sure you have your "red stuff" and Happy Thanksgiving! 

Cell Phones

"If he's THAT POOR, how can he have a CELL PHONE???"

"If she has a CELL PHONE, she has to be doing OK!" 

I see this kind of thing all the time on social media. To some, when someone is poor, having a cell phone is something that they just don't deserve. How dare they have access to this pretty much necessary device if they are not working, are homeless, or owe someone money? What if it is a "hand me down phone" from a friend or family member? Could someone else be paying the bill? What would one of us give up before we gave up our cell phones? 

These days, there are few pay phones and landlines are disappearing as most people turn to cellular service only. The days of being able to go to a neighbor's house and use their phone are pretty much over. 

Contrary to popular belief, affordable "lifeline" phone services were begun by Ronald Regan, not President Obama. 

A cell phone enables people to live in the modern world, especially if they live in an area without a nearby library. An unemployed person can create a resume, apply for a job and be able to receive a call about it on a cell phone. A mother can receive a call from her child's school in case her child becomes ill. People can get news of road hazards that can help them avoid being part of an accident. A person with irregular work hours, as many low wage jobs are, can do things that usually require being available during certain hours, such as banking. 

I just can't find it in my heart to begrudge anyone a cell phone. Even if some of my tax dollars are helping to pay for service to low income and elderly folks, I consider it money well spent.