2013-0927 Letter/Audio

Hi All –

I had originally thought that I might conduct a conversation about music on Friday but instead, we segued off into a different direction.  So we’ll talk about music sometime in the future.  Or, I suppose we could go out into the pasture to talk about it.  This reminds me of a quote by Paul Valéry: “The future isn’t what it used to be.” 

The subject of music struck a chord with me as it caused me to remember (not always fondly) my school days when I played the violin in the orchestra.  Please do not for an instance think that I was very good – rather it was a case of the school rounding up everybody who had at least SEEN a violin and coercing them into the orchestra.  All 3 or 4 of us.

Counselor:   “Kid, if you wanna graduate, see, yer gonna hafta play that there fiddle in the orchestra.  Ya see?” 

Me:  “Y-y-y-yes sir.”

To tell the truth, though, I freely chose to join the orchestra because I had no ability or interest in sports, besides, P.E. (Physical Education) was an evil class where all the jocks took pleasure in walking all over those of us who were nerds.  If we were playing baseball, for example, and I had made a bad call by, say, throwing the ball to a spectator instead of to the catcher, then I would catch hell from just about everybody.  Some mean guys would hassle us at the drop of a hat just for grins.

Well, I have meandered off the subject of music onto physical education.  I figure that this meandering will have burned off some of the calories that I inadvertently acquired by overeating during dinner.  We had pizza and well, let’s face it, I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to sensible eating.  If I keep this up, I’ll be as big as a house!

  

Kevin

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2013-0920 Letter/Audio

Hi All –

The bold statement was made Friday by a usually reliable member of our group whose name I won’t mention but who’s initials are K.K., that people seem to be attracted by tragic or shocking events which is why the media concentrates on that sort of news.  They seem to have a field day when something bad happens.  By media, of course, I mean newspapers, television, radio and weirdoes ranting on street corners.  This is why you will see headlines like “Dog Bites 3 At Children’s Concert” and why you won’t see headlines like “Dog Helps Elderly Cross Busy Street.” I suppose that if I wrote about Friday’s meeting in a way that might be acceptable to a newspaper, it could be entitled:

“Friday ESL Group Shocked By Blatant Double Standard Between Sexes”

Perhaps then my readership might jump from 2 (my wife and I ) to 3 people.  Actually I’m not sure that my wife reads this either. 

 Truthfully, though, the group wasn’t shocked.  In fact, the lion’s share of them were asleep I think.  The small minority of the group’s members, consisting of those who were still hanging in there, talked a bit about manners between men and women with an eye towards highlighting the changes that are happening in the relations between the genders.  These changes, according to the article we read, began in the ‘60s with the rise of the Women’s Movement.  Feminists at that time rose up and said, “We can open our own doors, thank you very much and, while we appreciate you holding our coats for us, what we really want is respect and equality.  Do you think, gentlemen, that you can manage that without losing your manhood?”  Change in this direction has been slow but inexorable since.

Now when I was a young boy, (there were still dinosaurs roaming then), I was taught to treat women (and by extension girls) with respect.  This meant that I shouldn’t kick a girl no matter how silly or bratty she was acting.  Nor was I allowed to slander her no matter how much malicious gossip she might be spreading about me.  Girls could be merciless tomboys when it came to persecuting boys but when the boys wished to turn the tables and retaliate, then these same darlings became fragile creatures protected by the rules of chivalry. 

Now girls, you see, become interesting to boys around the teenage years.  At that time, the dread ritual of dating arises.  The boy nervously picks up the telephone, dithers a bit, screws up his courage, finally calls the girl and asks if she would like to go on a date.  She says something like “Sure, but can my little sister come along?”  The boy then says “Um, no.  Two’s company but three’s a crowd. Your sister would be a fifth wheel.”  On the appointed day, the boy dresses to impress the girl, trying to look like someone with deep pockets so she’ll be attracted to him. The worst, though, is when her father takes the boy aside to talk turkey.  He’ll brook no nonsense from anyone dating his daughter.  

Nowadays, things are changing so anything goes.  I’m just glad that I met my wife when I knew what good manners between men and women were.

Cheers!

Kevin

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My Birthday!

I recently had another birthday (they seem to come regularly around this time of year) and, while I may not have the same enthusiasm for birthdays that I had when I was a child, when all is said and done, I had a great time.  To begin with, I relaxed over the newspaper while eating breakfast. 

After that, I had some time to while away before my party so I played a game of solitaire. 

Still finding myself with time on my hands, I opted to work a jigsaw puzzle.  I really like those unless they have 10,000 tiny pieces which all have the same coloration and shape.  THOSE puzzles are gifts from people who love to see you suffer. 

After that, I decided it had been too long since I exercised.  So I got out my Thera-Bands and began an exercise routine.

After cleaning up, I decided to rehydrate myself with a good drink of water.

Aha!  The first guest arrived and we shook hands.

Soon afterwards, the whole gang appeared and the party was underway!

What a great time!

2013-0913 Letter/Audio

Our conversation about winning the lottery reminded me of an argument I was privy to between two co-workers concerning the merits of buying lottery tickets.   This happened a long time ago when I was a new hire, still wet behind the ears and learning my trade.  Both of the protagonists in this argument were seasoned company men, each with a reputation of being as tough as nails.  Well, it started when one made some offhand remark to the other, relatively inoffensive to my way of thinking, but in no time at all they were off and running.  I don’t remember the arguments themselves but in the end, as they were evenly matched opponents, they called it a draw.  Since, as they say, diamond cut diamond, they both nursed a grudge after that.  

Now that I am as old as dirt, I don’t have a clear memory of my own stance on the argument.  Being mathematically inclined, I know that my odds of winning the lottery if I do NOT buy a ticket are . . . let’s see . . . (calculate, cipher, scribble) . . . carry the one . . . get another piece of scratch paper  . . . Ah yes, here we are.  If I don’t buy a ticket, my chances are a big, fat 0 of winning the lottery.  And if I DO buy a ticket, my chances are only vanishingly greater.  So all I can do is sit around and think of all the things that I can’t buy with the vast amounts of money that I didn’t win. 

Oh well, they say that money can’t buy happiness.  But of course, money CAN buy you a brand-new luxury car to go look for it. 

Cheers!

Kevin  

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2013-0906 Letter/Audio

Hi All –

I enjoyed our debate Friday and hope that you did as well.  You may think I was excited about the topic but truthfully, I’ll make no bones about the fact that I was as happy as a clam just sitting there listening to both sides, pro and con.  If I have to talk, sometimes I run out of steam and sit there feeling rather clueless.  But from the get-go, you all got down to brass tacks and presented cogent arguments to support your side.  Debates can be tricky propositions; there is always the possibility that someone takes a side so seriously that they get all lathered up and go ballistic when their arguments are countered by the opposition.  And you may have someone who is as mad as a hatter; you can’t tell what they’ll do.  But in that case, when you have some fruitcake acting a bit crazy, you can probably see it coming and forestall disaster by saying you’ll take a rain check on the debate and choosing another activity, preferably something with soft rubber balls or crayons where they can’t hurt themselves.

I had a co-worker once who was a bit of a train wreck.  I suspect she must have had a checkered past and had to use some hocus-pocus to get past our hiring manager.  Her software code was substandard to the point that I once had to throw the book at her as a kind of wake-up call for her to make the necessary effort to improve.  She hit me up for some leniency, wanting me to give her some rope.  But I had her number and saw the writing on the wall.  The bottom line was that she was too wishy-washy and was not pulling her weight.  I mean, had you been in my shoes, you would have felt the same way.  Well, she soon left for greener pastures.  “I’m so sorry to see you go,” I said while shedding crocodile tears because inwardly I was one happy camper.  I think she had been looking for a free ride but that’s just a hunch though.  I heard a tidbit of gossip that now she’s doing very well in politics, probably kicking her rivals to the curb.  Well, I’m glad she found a home.  She’ll be there ‘til the fat lady sings.  That’s the nature of politics I think. Better her than me.  In politics, you have to rub shoulders with too many other vultures and assorted birds-of-prey.

Have a wonderful week!

Kevin

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