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Women Drivers! Driving to the office this morning on the Interstate, I looked over to my left and there was a woman in a brand new Mustang doing 65 miles per hour with her face up next to her rear view mirror putting on her eyeliner! I looked away for a couple seconds and when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane, still working on that damn makeup!!! It scared me (I'm a man) so bad, I dropped my electric shaver, which knocked the donut out of my other hand. In all the confusion of trying to straighten out the car using my knees against the steering wheel, it knocked my cell phone away from my ear which fell into the coffee between my legs, splashed and burned Big Jim and the Twins, ruined the damn phone......and disconnected an important call. DAMN WOMEN DRIVERS!!!!!!!!!!!! AAADD Do you have it?
I just wanted to let you know that I have recently been diagnosed with AAADD - Age-Activated Attention Deficit Disorder This is how it goes...
I decide to do the laundry, start down the hall and notice the newspaper on the table. OK, I'm going to do the laundry...
BUT FIRST I'm going to read the newspaper. After that, I notice the mail on the table. OK, I'll just put the newspaper in the recycle stack...
BUT FIRST I'll look through the pile of mail and see if there are any bills to be paid. Yes. Now where is the checkbook? Oops...there's the empty glass from yesterday on the coffee table. I'm going to look for that checkbook...
BUT FIRST I need to put the glass in the sink. I head for the kitchen, look out the window, notice my poor flowers need a drink of water, I put the glass in the sink and there's the remote for the TV on the kitchen counter. What's it doing here? I'll just put it away...
BUT FIRST I need to water those plants. I head for the door and... Aaaagh! stepped on the cat. Cat needs to be fed. Okay, I'll put the remote away and water the plants...
BUT FIRST I need to feed the cat.
END OF DAY: Laundry is not done, newspapers are still on the floor, glass is still in the sink, bills are not paid, checkbook is still lost, and the cat ate the remote control...and, when I try to figure out how come nothing got done today, I'm baffled because... I KNOW I WAS BUSY ALL DAY! I realize this condition is serious...I'd get help...
BUT FIRST...I think I'll check my e-mail.
I Want To Be A Bear
If you're a bear, you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months. I could deal with that.
Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid. I could deal with that, too.
If you're a bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping and wake to partially grown, cute cuddly cubs. I could definitely deal with that.
If you're a mama bear, everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. I could deal with that.
If you're a bear, your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling. He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.
Yup..... I wanna be a bear.
-- Anonymous, May 14, 2002
Subject: How are you doing?
I left Montreal heading toward Quebec city, when I decided to stop at a comfort station. The first stall was occupied, so I went into the second one. I was no sooner seated than I heard a voice from the next stall:
"Hi, how are you doing?"
Well, I am not the type to chat with strangers in highway comfort stations, and I really don't know quite what possessed me, but anyway, I answered, a little embarrassed:
And the stranger said: "And, what are you up to?"
Talk about your dumb questions! I was really beginning to think this was too weird! So I said:
"Well, just like you I'm driving east."
Then, I heard the stranger, all upset, say, "Look, I'll call you back, there's some idiot in the next stall answering all the questions I am asking you."
Some things you keep" Some things you keep. Like good teeth. Warm coats. Bald husbands. So you hang on, because something old is sometimes better than something new, and what you know is often better than a stranger. These are my thoughts, they make me sound old, old and tame, and dull at a time when everybody else is risky and racy and flashing all that's new and improved in their lives. New careers, new thighs, new lips, new cars. The world is dizzy with trade-ins. I could keep track, but I don't think I want to.
I grew up in the fifties with practical parents - a mother, God bless her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. They weren't poor, my parents, they were just satisfied. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused.
Their best friend lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers and tee shirt and Mom in a housedress, lawnmower in one's hand, dishtowel in the other's.
It was a time for fixing things - a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress.
Things you keep. They're good for you, reliable and practical and so sublime that to throw them away would make the garbage man a thief. It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy.
All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there'd always be more.
But then my father died, and on that clear autumn night, in the chill of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any 'more.' Sometimes what you care about most gets all used up and goes away, never to return.
So, while you have it, it's best to love it and care for it and fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. That's true for marriage and old cars and children with bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging parents. You keep them because they're worth it, because you're worth it.
Some things you keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate you grew up with, there's just some things that make life important....people you know are special....and you KEEP them close!
'TIDBITS' You'll notice that a turtle only makes progress when it sticks out its neck.
-- Anonymous, May 16, 2002