Churchill and the Borg

Okay, as much as I hate to admit this, my kids might have been right about something they’ve been saying about me for years. They say when I mishear something and I tell them what I thought I heard, it’s usually so ridiculous I should know that’s not what was said. I usually tell them of course I do, that’s why I’m repeating what I thought I heard. Then they say why didn’t you just go to the logical word substitute. And of course I can’t answer this because I don’t share a logic with normal people. This is not to say I’m not logical, just not in ways others might call traditional. I share perfect logic with the many of the people I call my friends. And the friends that don’t share it are very tolerate and often amused.

Today while I was working at my desk I had Book TV on the television in a room that’s about ten feet away. There was a very knowledgeable man on talking about Winston Churchill. By the way, I think it’s funny that so many people will spend their whole life researching one other person!

But back to my issue.

At some point he said, at least I thought he said, “and then Churchill was captured by the Borg and at the time Hitler. . .” My mind immediately started thinking about how bad (meaning cool) Churchill must have been because not many people got away from the Borg. Even Captain Jean Luc Picard was assimilated before--then it struck me. Wait a minute, the Borg does not exist!

The Borg is a race of villains from Star Trek, the television show.

So now I’m wondering what did this guy really say? He’s been speaking another ten minutes while I was thinking about the Borg. This is the real reason why I can’t go back and find the missing word most of the time. Usually by the time I realize I’m off track the race is over.*

I hope Mom is laughing

My father had a great sense of humor and he often teased my mother by saying that she had none. It wasn’t a fair comment, she had a sense of humor but it didn’t come close to being as active as his. I learned early on that she loved children and dogs and she liked cute stories about them too. Over the years I saved my stories about these two subjects to share with her because, like most kids, I liked to make my mother laugh.

My mother died five weeks ago and I have stories with no place to go.

The movie Marley and Me is coming out soon and it’s just the kind of story that would have had her in tears with laughter.

My daughter is going to Michigan for Christmas, to help my brothers close-out our family home. Since I can’t travel right now, she’s going to pack for me.

Lots of luck with that!

I have no idea how she’s going to determine what’s important to me, or even her and her brothers, from over fifty years of seven lives in a large house that was very much a home.

Every time I see the commercials for Marley and Me, my mind immediately goes to Regina will be in Michigan, she can take Mom. . . oh wait. Then I stop and remember why she’s going to be there.

My father was a big fan of Seinfeld. After he passed away, I wondered if he somehow got a chance to see how the Seinfeld sitcom ended. I strongly believe there a wide variety of opportunities on the other side to participate in what we over here call leisure time activities.

My mother is with her best friend now, my Aunt Vivian. They used to go to woman’s day at the movies for half price. I hope they’ll take the time to see this movie and Mom gets a chance to laugh.

What does it mean when you can't stop thinking about the death of a man that you once dated? Dated is used loosely here, I think we might have eaten two meals together--a lunch and a dinner. The rest of our time was spent in his apartment or mine--which was the next building over. The reason I mentioned the lay-out of the buildings is to indicate that visiting each other didn't require a lot of effort.

He worked in the same building as my father and they were great work friends.

My father was the type of guy who could be friends with his 2 year old grandson, my thirty years younger "date" and people his own age. I never told him I was seeing this guy because I knew it wasn't real.

So why can't I stop thinking about it? His death, not his life and certainly not the limited time with me.

I guess I'm feeling my mortality. He was only 61. I guess I want to say God rest his soul. I think he was a good person, like I said, my father liked him. Me? I didn't know him. God speed, Bob.

Kid Nation

Tonight was the last night of Kid Nation. I believe I watched all of them, some twice, and I must say I loved this show. It wasn’t at all what I expected--which was a junior version of Survivor. I have so much hope for the future after meeting this kids. I hope CBS gives us an update on what the children got as compensation for participating. Since there was a limited amount of Gold Stars I hope all the kids were given something to put in their college funds. In the end I even liked Taylor!

Priorities

Here's something I wish somebody would have told my husband before we got married. If you come upon your wife, sitting on the bed naked and she was doing the exact same thing before you went to take your shower, then obviously you have stumbled upon her critical (say it with me) sitting-on-the-bed-naked time!

If he stops her to say things like "Why aren't you dressed?" or "We have to be there in an hour." He's cutting into her sitting-on-the-bed-naked time and he's the one causing the problem!

Every woman knows the cleaning out the purse time comes after the sitting-on-the-bed-naked time and questions only slow down the process.

Consider this message a public service.

Waitresses Be Advised

My husband is a flirt and, for the most part, I couldn’t care less. When I thought I had it, I was a better flirt. If I feels he’s getting carried away and some poor women is actually believing him, I’ll rein him in. I’ve watched him in action at many gatherings over the years. What’s really funny is when he flatters an aggressive woman and she responds in kind; that’s when he’ll say something like, “I want you to meet my wife,” and he’ll break away to find me so I can save him. I can always tell when this has happened because the woman’s expression is so confused. Also, soon after my arrival the innocent woman starts moving toward a slow burn. I can’t blame her, who wants to feel played?

This was background to what I’m really peeved about. Have you seen the commercial where a busty waitress is cleaning a table in front of a young couple? I believe it’s a Carl’s Jr. ad for buffalo wings. She leans over and makes sure the man is getting a good eyeful. The woman in the couple is annoyed, but she handles it well. She handles it much better than I would have and I’m really not inclined to deal with the small stuff. But this woman is flirting BIG. She telling the man’s date that she (the date) doesn’t matter. I would have a hard time controlling the urge to hurt that woman.

So let this be a warning to you busty waitresses out there. He doesn’t want you, I’m not threatened, but you will not disrespect me like that!

Come Back My Love

Something very wrong has happened to my dreams. I never would’ve expected this, not in a million years.

First a little background.

I might not know what African tribe I descended from, but I do know I come from a long line of horny people on my father’s side. I’m not saying I was a witness and certainly not a victim; I was just a nosy kid and I heard things–okay? I was interested in most things sexual, albeit on mostly an intellectual level, during my formative years. I made it my business to be around when the stories were being told. I wanted to know exactly how things--fit.

I was the girl who checked out the Kinsey Reports, both of them.* This was no small feat for a twelve year old because these tomes were kept behind the checkout counter and they had to be requested and signed out. And my aunt worked at the library and she talked to my mother at least twice a day. In case you never read the Kinsey reports, they were about as exciting as the Oxford Dictionary, but I scanned each volume carefully. I don’t know if my aunt ever found out that I borrowed them. I can’t imagine something happening at that library that my aunt didn’t know. Reading was scared in my household and there was very little censorship. My father read everything he touched and he believed if you were old enough to understand it, read it and “we’ll talk about it later.” Looking back on it now, I think my aunt probably told my parents and they decided it okay for me to read them because I probably wouldn’t understand most of it. They were right.

So you see the fact that many of my dreams over the years had a sexual component was a given. It was in the DNA. That has changed. These dreams are slowly changing from sexual to action/adventure. I still wake up exhausted, but it’s a different kind of exhaustion. The movie star who was once my dream lover has become my sidekick. We spend our nights together now fighting crime. It’s enough to make a sexual being sick. I want him back! In my bed, on the beach, in the private airplane and especially in that limousine. And I want him to leave that sword he’s been carrying around lately at home! I’m not that old yet–am I?


*Sexual Behavior in the Human Male (1948) and Sexual Behavior in the Human Female (1953)