Looking at Wednesday

This is a tough week. Wednesday is often referred to a “hump day” meaning it is in the middle and everything is downhill from here. However for me and many of you growing up in the 1960s, hump meant sitting in the middle of the back seat on the hump which was by far the most uncomfortable place. You didn’t have a window and depending on the car you didn’t have much cushion. That translated to a tail bone bruising ride over railroad tracks and heaven help your backside if potholes were encountered. But the worst part was in the winter, when that same lack of padding allowed the heat from the exhaust to heat the seat. At first it was cozy but if the ride was extended you were literally “in the hot seat”. Today I’m enduring a Wednesday that is akin to riding in the middle of the backseat in my mothers Corvair – in the winter. The heating was designed to blow hot air from under the middle of the backseat. It was one of those things where the back of your legs would be scorched.
For your reading pleasure I have provided the following poem, a quatrain (4 lines per stanza with the line 2 & 4 rhyming). In light of the way things are going I made this a little more difficult by chaining the stanzas and using the same rhymes repeatedly…

What prayer do I intone?
Do I pray for self-preservation
Or to look outward in scope
Send up a plea for the nation?

I humbly ask to save our nation
A grand request of global scope
Please grant my desperate supplication
Omniscient God, grant us hope!

Some name it a crutch – that hope
A crippled country bows in supplication
Begs for mercy and for justice moans
Prays our tears become worthy oblation

Work of human hands offers oblation
To God’s ear the heart’s loud moans
We chant – save us from damnation
This sacred chant intones

Looking At Monday

Mondays have a bad reputation. There are lots of comic strips that bemoan the appearance of Monday.


Ask any employee their least favorite day of the week and you will be deafened by the shout of “MONDAY!” There has to be something behind the nearly universal dislike of Monday. From personal experience I can point out a couple problems with Mondays:
1. Monday is the point which you will be required to deal with all the problems that sprang up over the weekend.
2. Mondays are the preferred day for meetings, especially boring ones.
3. On Monday the workforce is least perky and in some instances still retain some of the weekend alcohol in their bloodstreams.
4. More injuries happen on Monday (see #3 above).
5. Monday is “Murphy’s Day” when whatever can go wrong will.
6. Monday is second only to Friday for the most number of call offs (see #3 above).

In honor of Monday and all the people who suffer through them, I give you a Monday haiku.
NO NO NO Dammit
NO NO NO I won’t NO NO
For the last time NO

Looking Nostalgic

I cleaned up and organized my craft closet. It brought back some memories. When the boys were young there were always art projects required as homework. In kindergarten I had to come up with shirts for the letter of the alphabet they were assigned. Son#2 was given “R”. He had to have 100 of something. I opted for rubberbands. I drew a large R on the front of a sweatshirt and he counted out bundles of rubberbands as I sewed them on inside the block R. He sang “Rubberband Man”. He was too cute! That memory was provoked by finding a box (unmarked) of crumbling rubberbands. I opened a bin containing an odd assortment of beads, white fake fur, cellophane gift wrap and some Styrofoam balls and a large paper mache egg. Son#1 had to create an animal cell for science class.

We used a clear garbage bag covered in fake fur on half. We used the egg for the cell nucleus, the balls were different sizes and colors for lysosomes and peroxisomes, reticulum was orange beads and there were oval blocks for mitochondria. He spent lots of time gluing and labeling that “cell” and I spent way too much money on craft supplies to just toss it when he was done. Thus I have a bin with weird stuff. I suppose if I ever need to build a cell I’m all set!
I also was organizing beads since I came into a possession of some nifty round plastic pill containers. Actually I got 36 of them for twenty-five cents! Anyway, I sorted beads that brought back memories of the pony bead craze that both boys participated in (along with the entire Elm Road Elementary School)! They made key chains, bookmarks, Christmas ornaments, zipper pulls for backpacks, etc.

I still have a huge tin of pony beads. I started to sort them but gave up. I did however discover a half finished turtle key chain in the bottom of the tin. I thought about finishing it but couldn’t find the bead needle…
Anyway my day was productive and I discovered some memories I had misplaced. Hope when you clean you find only good memories and no dead bugs! (That’s another post)

Looking Detached

Sever the ties
Between emotion and intellect
To allow space
Between knowing and feeling
Creating a buffer
When pains inflicted by living
And the certainty of dying
Are held at arm’s length
So the soul can breathe
Take in one last gulp of air
Against being swallowed by the tide

I said I wasn’t going to write about depression. God has a way of making me eat my words. Just when I decided I was not going to dwell on depression it gets dropped on my head in a ton of bricks fashion. Depression has occurred in people close to me. I was concerned about someone last week who has a history of self-harm. New medications resulted in an uneven keel and that devolved into the need to seek medical attention. It hurts to see someone struggling so hard to keep their head above water. Depression can be transient and other times it can linger. Everyone has had a brush with depression even me. It seems to be a universal part of adolescence – the peer pressure, the budding independence, the raging hormones, the hesitation, and of course the underdeveloped frontal cortex all leading to a regular psychological short circuit. It is during those formative years that many of us developed coping skills against depression. Some were healthy and others gravitated to less beneficial coping mechanisms. In today’s society, children are being given mood elevators and anti-psychotic medications for what would have been described in earlier times as normal teen angst. My point is that depression is real and is more widespread that I ever considered. And as a society we’ve lost many coping skills and are now reliant on pills. I cope by becoming detached and looking at the “bigger picture” to put things into perspective. How do you cope?