I grew up in the fifties and it was a great time to be a kid. We walked the streets in safety, we went to school without fearing for our lives and we spent hours playing games like cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians. We used our imaginations and built forts in the snow, made bows from string and willow branches, and spent hours shooting water pistols at each other while we pretended we were Flash Gordon destroying space monsters. It was an innocent time and an era where a small child’s imagination knew no limits.

Now, children are being subjected to mass hysteria, brought about by the tragic shootings that have occurred. Their toys are being considered lethal weapons and they are being punished for using their imaginations.

Police arrested a seven year old boy for bringing a Nerf style gun to school. A six year old little girl was expelled for bringing her brother’s toy gun to class for show and tell. A five year old (yes, five years old) boy was reprimanded for building a toy gun out of Legos in an after-school program. Another five year old was suspended from school and subjected to a psychological evaluation. Why? Because she was overheard talking with a classmate about shooting each other with a Hello Kitty Bubble Gun. So, she was labeled a terrorist threat and now other schools will not accept her as a student.

Schools have taken a zero tolerance towards guns in school. Who can argue with that in light of recent events? BUT, where does good judgement come into play in this policy? These are not guns, they are toys! How far is this going to escalate?

Have we really become so fearful of a child having a toy gun that we arrest them or label them terrorists? For heaven’s sake, they are too young to have any idea of why they are being punished. Are we so intent on enforcing Zero tolerance policies that we are willing to have innocent little children arrested, expelled or suspended from school for possessing a toy?

Let’s get a grip! We need to look at what we are doing and stop projecting our fears onto our children. Yes, we need to be vigilant, it is a violent and dangerous world out there. But, we also need to let our children enjoy their innocence and not be punished for using their imaginations. We need to exercise good judgement and think before we punish a child for being a child.

I have a pet peeve. I hate the word F**k, whether it be in conversations or articles, or books. This aversion to what I call the “F Bomb” is not new. So, before you start thinking that this is just a prudish Grandma’s outlook on this subject, let me tell you that I have always hated this word. Why? Because it is a crude, nasty and offensive word that makes me cringe every time I have heard it used or seen it used by a writer.

Let’s start off with the definition. I’ll give you the short version, it’s the act of sexual intercourse! No big surprise, after all, this word has been around since the 1400′s, so most people know what it means. These days, it is thrown out as an intensifier or an insult but basically the use of the word is universally found to be just downright vulgar.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I do not consider the act of sex to be vulgar. Far from it, I believe intercourse can be the most heavenly thing (oh, yes, even at my age!) But, try turning to your partner, look into his or her eyes and ask, “Do you want to f**k?” Good luck on that one, you romantic devil you.

So, why do we, as writer’s, consider it necessary to use this word in our works? Some writer’s use it for the simple shock factor. They believe that putting the F bomb in their titles will draw an larger audience. Or, they drop the bomb numerous times in their piece, feeling that they are relating with their readers.

I, for one, will quickly scroll down if you have the F word in your title. Sorry, just the way I am! If I start reading your piece and you start dropping the bomb more than once, I run for the hills and quickly go to block, unfollow or whatever method I can find to prevent me from having to read your work again. So, if your target audience for your writing is limited to readers who are used to the continuous use of this vile word…count me out. But, if you truly want a larger audience, don’t drop the bomb. Use another word, phrase or intensifier to put your thoughts out there!

If you argue that it is necessary to use the bomb to keep up with today’s readers, I point you to the books of one of the most read writers over the past 3 or 4 decades, Stephen King. He’s a master at using characters from all walks of life, and I may be wrong, but I don’t believe that I’ve had to duck the F bomb in any of his books, and I have read the majority of them. If he has used the F word, it was so subtle that I didn’t feel I had been slapped in the face with it.

So, is it really necessary to use the word f**k to attract readers…I think not. And as for the word “Motherf***er,” don’t even get me started. That’s another rant for another day.

DO YOU DROP THE BOMB? WHEN AND WHY OR WHY NOT?

Just a quick blog to let you all know that Danny’s doctor called and:

CT Test – Great!  Of course, we knew about the liver damage and the Hep. C., but no new surprises.  Everything else is looking A.O.K. 

Colonoscopy – 2 very small polyps, removed and sent for biopsy but no big deal.  Danny now has a clear pathway! 

Best news, Dr. K. feels positive, Danny is relieved, and I’m doing the Happy Dance.

Thank you all for you comments and best wishes.  It meant so much to us!  

 *dancing*

I just can’t help myself!

My SO, Danny, is scheduled for his first ever colonoscopy tomorrow (I call this the  ”Up Periscope” exam).  For those who have not experienced this exciting adventure yet, there is a certain amount of preparation for the procedure, what the written instructions our doctor gave us called “Preparation Day”.  

Now, on Preparation Day, you can have a light breakfast and then clear liquids only until after your procedure on the next day.  Now, Danny did pretty good with this step.  He didn’t start whining until I put a bowl of chicken broth in front of him for dinner.

“Where’s the chicken?” he asked. I told him that he couldn’t have solids. 

“Where’s the noodles?  You mean I can’t have noodles in my soup?” I again told him that noodles were considered a solid food and therefore not allowed.

“Then where’s the veggies?” he said.  I promptly told him to shut up and eat his broth!

Now, the next step in preparing for this exam was what the instructions called the “Cleansing process.”  For this step, our doctor called in a prescription for Danny and once I read the label, I knew trouble was on the horizon.  After dinner, I prepared this vile smelling potion and told Danny to drink all of it.  Well, I do value my life so I resisted taking out my camera and didn’t record the many faces that he made while he was drinking this magic elixir.  Sympathetic as always, I suggested he drink it quickly and get it over with.  He promptly told me…well, never mind.  You get the picture.

Once he finished, Danny then had to drink two full glasses of water.  He started to complain about all the liquid intake, claimed it was making his stomach hurt.  I thought to myself, oh oh, here we go!  After a few minutes, he rushed off to the bathroom and I haven’t seen him since.  But, I know he’s all right, since he’s been sharing his feelings in a very loud way, by yelling through the closed bathroom door.  

Oh, wait a minute, the bathroom door is opening as I write.  Give me a minute, I’ll go check on him.  OK, I’m back.  He is now curled up in bed and feeling very sorry for himself.  I asked if he was OK and he said, “No, I’m dying!  I’ve lost all my insides!” Such a Drama King! 

But, wait folks, there’s more to come!  The “Cleansing Process” is not over.  It’s a two step process and we get to repeat the drink and the whining and the complaining again tomorrow morning.  Yup, fun times are ahead! 

So, why am I laughing?  I have no idea! I do feel sorry for him, honest, I do. Maybe the laughter is keeping me from shouting out, “Oh, for heavens sake, buck up and take it like a man.”  Or, maybe I’ve just lost my mind!  I don’t know but I have to go now.  He’s calling me to get him some more toilet paper!  This is going to be a long night.

One of my mother’s pearls of wisdom when I was younger was the old “Don’t let the sun go down on your wrath!”  In my younger years, I totally ignored that advice.  I would lay in bed, going over whatever petty argument or disagreement I had with my man and just stew.  I would think about all the things I should have said and the many reasons that I was right and he was just dead wrong. 

As he lay in bed next to me, I would roll over to the very edge of the bed (sometimes rolling off) and listen to him softly snoring.  His ignorance of just how mad I was would just add fuel to the fire!  How could he ignore my cold stares, my tossing and my turning, my inability to sleep until he apologized? But, exhaustion would win and I would nod off eventually. In the morning, I would wake exhausted and look like I’d been on a three day bender.

As I grew older, I realized that this “Don’t go to bed mad” advice might have something to it.  Since I was the only one paying the price, I had to come up with a new approach to ending arguments before slipping into bed.  I adopted a “Lets agree to disagree” policy; I would postpone our discussing the issues until the morning and be sure I gave my man a good night kiss and some cuddling.  After a good night’s sleep, we are usually much more clear-headed and willing to listen to the other’s views.  

So, Mom, I guess you were right! 

Do you go to bed mad?  How do you resolve your disagreements before bed?

Yesterday, Danny had an appointment that had us both nervous.  His appointment was with the specialist who is treating his liver.  I’ll just call him Dr. K.

If you don’t know, Danny almost died of liver failure last May and it has been a long road to recovery.  This appointment was so important as Dr. K. was going to give us an update on Danny’s progress.

Dr. K. started off saying that the liver has shown improvement!  Whew…great news.  It is amazing, but the liver is the one organ that can regenerate itself…up to a point.  You just have to stop throwing poisons, such as alcohol, at the liver and it can renew.  Dr. K. feels this is what’s happening.

Then, the not so good news.  Dr. K. said some of the tests in the blood work indicated the need for Danny to have a CT Scan.  He wants to rule out liver cancer as the reason for the elevations in the blood work.  I watched Danny’s face and quickly asked the doctor what the chances were that Danny had cancer.  He smiled and said the chances were minimal based on the way the liver was improving…but it was better to be safe than sorry.  Calmed Danny down, thank goodness, but I know that he will worry until we get the results. 

The next news was not so good for Danny but good for me!  Danny is almost 60 and has never had a colonostomy. Well, next week he has to endure the procedure I call the “Up Periscope.”  I have been worried that his VA doctor has never ordered one so this will eliminate that problem.  Also, Danny has complained about stomach aches rather frequently so the “up periscope” will eliminate any problems that his bowels might be having!

Finally, Dr. K. discussed treatment for the Hepatis C.  He does not recommend it at this time due to the high number of side effects the medicine creates.  I have done a lot of research on Hepatis C treatments and was afraid to tell Danny about the side effects.  I planned on letting Dr. K. handle that one.  Dr. K. said that in two years, there will be a treatment available that will not have the side effects, but it was up to Danny.  Danny chose to wait…he has enough to handle without adding depression, constant fatigue and many other side effects.  So I’ve dodged the bullet for now!

Before we left, Danny asked the doctor when he could get a new liver.  Dr. K. started smiling and said, “You don’t need a new liver.  Just take care of the one you’ve got!”  I did the happy dance all the way out of the building, and I know Danny feels more positive too.

So, although Danny will be worried about the CT scan, I feel that everything will be o.k.  And, until I’m told otherwise, I will continue to do the happy dance!

Have a good day!

I was feeling down and went traveling through the Internet highway in search of something to cheer me up.  I don’t know how I stumbled into the “My Hero Project”, but was very glad I did.  I found a lot of little heroes with big hearts who did big things.

This is Alexandra Scott, who was diagnosed with cancer before the age of one.  She wanted to help other children with cancer so she opened a Lemonade Stand to raise money for cancer research.  She was four years old when she opened her first stand but managed to raise $2000 in the first year.  People heard of Alex’s lemonade stand and joined her cause by opening more stands to raise money for cancer research.  Before she passed away at the age of eight, she had raised a total of $700,000 which was just short of her goal of one million.  But, her cause is carried on by others in the Alex’s Lemonade Foundation, which has raised millions over the years for childhood cancer research.

Her foundation’s goal is the same as the day Alex started her first lemonade stand. They fight childhood cancer, one cup of Lemonade at a time.

And, this is Anthony D. Leanna, who at the age of ten, spent a lot of time in the hospital with his grandmother who was battling breast cancer.  Anthony noticed that many of the patients on the floor had no hair, so he decided to start a community project called “Heavenly Hats.”  He started this project in 2001 when he was ten years old.  He held hat drives and drove through communities collecting brand new hats for cancer patients and patients who have lost their hair due to medical treatments.  “I wanted to provide comfort, warmth and kindness to people who were going through a rough time,” he said.  His foundation has raised over 1,200,000 hats for patients since then.

In the words of one of the patients, “The hats you sent me not only brightened my day, they brightened my life.”

Now meet Brandon Keefe, who overheard a conversation his mother was having about the lack of a library in a local home for orphans.  He went home and thought about the books he had outgrown and he knew his friends had some too.  He went to school the next day and began a book drive and he collected 847 books.  Local volunteers helped catalog the books and the Rotary Club donated shelves, tables and chairs.  The orphans now had a library.

But, Brandon didn’t stop there.  He went on to organize another book drive when he entered the seventh grade.  That drive collected over 5000 books, too many for the small library in the orphanage to handle.  So, he found a local public school who had pine cones instead of books on their shelves.  After receiving the books from Brandon and his volunteers, the principal of that school started to spread Brandon’s idea though-out the Los Angeles School District as a method to fill school libraries.

In Brandon’s humble words, “It’s great to know you made a difference and things are going to change because of what you’ve done.”

There are many more wonderful stories on the “The My Hero Project” website.  If you’re ever feeling down and need someone to inspire you, visit this website and meet some more little heroes with great big hearts.  You’ll be surprised at how many are there for you to meet.  

Then this should tickle it!

Warning:  There will be a newscast first where you might smile, the second half is just hilarious!

Enjoy!

Top 10 Things to Do While Ordering a Pizza

1.  Do not name the toppings you want. Rather, spell them out.

2.  Put an extra edge in your voice when you say “crazy bread.”

3.  Put them on hold.

4.  Ask for the guy who took your order last time.

5.  When they ask what you’d like on your pizza say, “Oh, a little of this, a little of that…”

6.  Say hello, act stunned for five seconds, then behave as if they called you.

7.  If they repeat the order to make sure they have it right, say “OK. That’ll be $10.99; please pull up to the first window.”

8.  Ask if you get to keep the pizza box. When they say yes, heave a sigh of relief.

9.  Say it’s your anniversary and you’d appreciate if the deliverer hid behind some furniture waiting for your spouse to arrive so you can surprise him/her.

10. Terminate the call with, “Remember, we never had this conversation.”

 

Enjoy your day!