More Email Fun

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment to 'honour' thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?"

From the back, one little boy answered, "Thou shall not kill."

Ta-tas Matter

Back in the early days, B.L.S. (Before Law School), I worked a clerical type job.

The other clerk (I'll call her Fannie, because that was not her name) had bodacious ta-tas; mine are merely adequate.

Fannie was incompetent. Blindingly, ragingly incompetent. Not just "couldn't do her job" incompetent, but "actively destroyed work done by others" incompetent. As an example, she was supposed to enter some data into a database one day. Not only could she not do that correctly, but she ended up accidentally deleting everything else that had been in the database. The computer repair guy spent hours and hours trying to recover everything. At least once a week she had some sort of problem with her computer. Every day, the boss had to spend at least an hour explaining some procedure or another to her. He didn't mind so much, though. It gave him a chance to stare at those bodacious ta-tas in the (always) very low-cut and tight shirt.

By contrast, I showed up, did my job well, got great compliments from everyone I spoke to on the telephone, and managed never to destroy work done by someone else, or to make the computer guy have to waste entire days trying to fix my errors. Whenever I did have a question (rarely), I'd ask one of my co-workers. I tried asking the boss once, but he glared at me and said I should figure it out for myself because it's "not rocket science."

Fannie was late -- often hours late -- at least three times per week, and would call or sometimes just show up hours late, with wild excuses every time.

Each excuse individually would have been a reasonable excuse for being late - flat tire, power went out and alarm clock didn't work, sink flooded, dog escaped, transmission quit, bus was late, locked her keys in the car, lost the keys to her car, her mother called to say her aunt Matilda died, her aunt Matilda died ("Again?" "Oh, no, that wasn't Aunt MAtilda last month, that was Aunt BAtilda! Isn't it funny how my Mom and Dad had sisters with similar names?") ... but honestly, nearly every day it was something. That woman had more "emergencies" than anyone else I've ever known. The boss would always say, "Oh, that's ok, I understand."

I had some sympathy for her tardiness, even though it annoyed everyone else. I have a tendency to be 5 minutes late everywhere I go, too -- I always think I can accomplish more in a given amount of time than is really possible, and I always think there shouldn't be any traffic, even though I know there will be. At that job, though, I carpooled with some folks who were very punctual, so I managed to arrive every day at least 15 minutes early.

Until one day we really did have car trouble -- something minor, I forget what it was, but we had to stop and one of the guys fixed the problem on the spot and we drove on -- and so instead of being 15 minutes early we arrived one minute early.

As I walked in the door, the boss called me over. He lectured me about how I really ought to try to arrive early and not be breezing in right at 8:00, because really I should be sitting down and working already, not hanging my jacket and stashing my purse.

I laughed because I literally thought he was joking. He glared at me and lectured me about how serious he was and how important it is to be on time, especially since part of my job involved answering the telephone and we open for business at 8:00 a.m. and on and on ... and on and on ... and then the kicker: I ought to take my job more seriously, like Fannie!

I searched his face for some sign that he was in fact kidding, so I could come back with a smart-ass remark like, "No problem, I'll be sure to show up by noon tomorrow." But no, he was seriously annoyed.

So I lost it. I told him I was one minute early, I wasn't late, that I would have been "actually working" by 8:00 a.m. after hanging my jacket and setting my purse down, BUT FOR THE FACT THAT HE JUST SPENT 5 MINUTES lecturing me because I was "only" one minute early. I explained that I'd have been 15 minutes early as usual but for the fact that we had car trouble -- WHICH WE TOOK CARE OF AND STILL MANAGED TO BE ON TIME TO WORK -- that my time prior to my scheduled 8:00 a.m. work time was my time and it was none of his business what I did with my time and that IF it ever happened that I was actually late, he could then feel free to lecture me, but UNTIL THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED, he really ought to save his lectures for Fannie the problem child and effing LEAVE ME ALONE.

I turned and walked away, set my purse down and answered the ringing telephone with an exceedingly pleasant, "Good morning, how may I help you?" and studiously avoided looking his direction at all.

I knew he was extremely peeved at me for "talking back," but I really didn't care at that point. I knew my time there would be short-lived. The next eval would not be pretty. I immediately began looking for another job, and left within a month.

So never let anyone tell you bodacious ta-tas don't make a difference in the workplace. They do. They definitely do.

Black Is Beautiful

When I was very young, in 1970 or so, my mom took me with her sometimes to the office where she was a student intern. The receptionist there was always friendly and would talk to me or offer me pencils and paper for coloring when I was bored waiting for my mom.

One day, the receptionist had a little sign on her desk that said "Black is Beautiful."

I said, "I don't like black. I like blue the best!"

The woman laughed. My mom was mortified and apologized to the woman and took me aside and explained that the sign meant that black *people* are beautiful, and that it was meant to counter the general and wrong view that black people were some how "less worthy" than white people.

I was confused because I hadn't realized she was a "black person." When I thought about her at all (which was very rarely, really, since I was a kid and didn’t think often about others), I just thought she had a nice smile and a kind personality and pretty brown skin. And I was embarrassed for saying I didn't like black, because that wasn't what I meant!

I think that was the first time I realized that some people considered different skin color "bad." It made me sad because the woman was really nice.

Sometimes people claim that kids don't "notice" skin color until we teach them to. That's not really true, though. It wasn't that I didn't "notice" her skin color. I did, just as one notices hair color, height, and the shape of a nose. It's just that until then, I had never thought it could be a bad thing or even a defining characteristic of a person. I noticed, but without judging.

I hope our society will one day stop teaching kids that anyone's physical characteristics are "bad" or make a person "unworthy" or "less" than others.

And I thank my parents heartily for not teaching me such awful lessons.

ZZ Top Still Rocks

I scored free tickets to see ZZ Top last Friday night at the Comerica Theatre (formerly the Dodge Theatre) in Phoenix.

ZZ Top -- who would have thought they were even still around, much less touring ... but they are, and they are ... and they ROCK!

The show was fantastic.

Well, a little odd, too, but fantastic. Odd how, you ask?

First, I'm not that much older than I was when I first rocked out to "I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide," "Cheap Sunglasses," and "Jesus Just Left Chicago" among other awesome ZZ Top hits. So why did everyone in the audience look so damned old?!?

(And act so old! The dude next to me was sitting, looking tired, and complaining to the people in front of him that they should sit down. WTF? You're at a concert -- stand up and dance, or at least bob your head a little! Really!)

The warm-up band (Philip Sayce) must have noticed this, too, because it opened with a song called "One Foot in the Grave." Oddly appropriate, I suppose...

Second, the video screen behind the band didn't add much to the show and sometimes seemed, well, just weird.... floating spark plugs (for "Got Me Under Pressure")? floating wrenches ("Jesus Just Left Chicago")? floating hubcaps ("Waiting For the Bus")? Was this an auto-parts store ad, or what?

But the show itself? Rocked. Ignore the lame video screen and focus on the act itself, and you'll be pleased. The band looks essentially the same as they did in the 1970s and 80s-- two dudes with suits, hats, sunglasses, and the trademark long (if a bit grayer) beards, and the un-bearded drummer, Frank Beard. Three "Beards," one way or another.

And they sounded great -- played all their classics with their best blues sound. And played a straight-up tribute to Jimi Hendrix ("Hey Joe") along with an explanation that they appreciated Hendrix's recognition of them when they were just starting out (in 1969!).

Here's a sample -- from a different show, for sure, but it'll give you an idea of it:

• Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top

More ZZ Top music on iLike

And they're good people, too, not narcissistic bastards like some aging stars can become. During the show, a fan waved a copy of their first album. Guitarist Gibbons waved the man up to the stage, chatted with him a minute or so, and then all three of the band members autographed it. Then he pretended to auction it off, talking fast and sounding for all the world like a real auctioneer -- "OK, the bidding starts at $1000, over here do I hear $1000, $1000 over here.... Nah, I'm just kiddin'!" And he gave the album back to the fellow, to loud applause.

Later in the show, a kid dressed in ZZ Top attire -- black suit, hat, sunglasses, fake beard -- was invited up on stage to share the spotlight for a few minutes. Gibbons teased him, saying he had stolen his Halloween costume.

All in all, a down-to-earth, fun performance.

Ya' just gotta love that great little "Beard band" from Texas!



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They have shows coming up in October in Nevada, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Alabama, Texas, Illinois, Iowa, and West Virginia. Maybe you, too, can catch the awesomeness with a side of odd. For more info, click here.

Received in the Email Today...

The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture:

"Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.' "

A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead."

Worried...

My grandfather died two years ago. My grandmother died this past May.

My uncle from Japan visited here in May. It was good to see him; I hadn't seen him for nearly 20 years. He was one of my favorite uncles when I was a kid -- about 10 years older than me, and about 10 years younger than my mom, he was old enough to drive and young enough to be lots of fun.

My uncle from Texas visited here in August. It was good to see him, too; I hadn't seen him for about 20 years, either. He was another of my favorite uncles when I was a kid, a year apart in age from my favorite uncle from Japan, and also lots of fun. He plays the guitar and sings (has made money at it, at times over the years) and even taught my son a couple of chords on the guitar while he was here.

My grandparents raised good kids. Both of my "favorite uncles" were kind and playful and funny, and just generally good with younger kids.

When they visited here, my kids loved them just as much as I did when I was a kid. They haven't changed a bit, my favorite uncles. Still kind and funny and playful, they both know just how much to tease and when to let up and how to keep a kid laughing and smiling. It was fun to watch.

My uncle from Japan went back to Japan, and I haven't heard much from him since then. It may well be another 20 years before I see him again. He has his own family, friends, job, issues.... I'm sad my kids won't know him better, but I'm glad they at least got to meet him.

My uncle from Texas, though.... I'm worried.

When he visited, he had sold just about everything he owned. He bought a van, and had decided to drive from Texas through Arizona to California and up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco, and then continue north to Oregon or Washington or perhaps even as far as Vancouver. He wasn't quite sure where he planned to settle. His plan was to camp along the way and basically live out of his van. He had his four cats with him, and a decent amount of money in the bank to support his travels, but not enough to live on forever. The plan was to eventually settle somewhere, rent an apartment, get a new job....

He has worked most of his life in the computer field, but he wanted to try something new -- selling food at art festivals, for example. Something totally different. It sounded a little radical, but he isn't married, has no kids and no responsibilities other than his four cats, so if he wanted to follow a dream, why not?

He had built some shelves in his van to store his few remaining belongings, food/cat food, camping equipment, and other supplies, and also a roof rack to carry some clothing / luggage.

He had his computer with him, and his cell phone. He planned to stop at McDonalds and/or Starbucks along the way to use the free wi-fi and communicate with friends and/or check on his mail (which he had forwarded to a UPS store, which could then ship things to any UPS store nationwide as needed). He did not, however, have any sort of car charging cord for his cell phone or computer.

For the first couple of weeks after he left here, he called my mom every two to five days. He would let her know where he was and what his next plans were. Last she heard, he was at the Grand Canyon, camping, hiking, and exploring, and was thinking of exploring the North Rim and then taking a different route to California than he originally planned, but might head back to Flagstaff and then on to California.... sort of uncertain plans at that point.

That was almost four weeks ago.

He hasn't called since then. He hasn't responded to my mom's emails or calls. Even the ones where she is increasingly worried and saying, essentially, please call to let me know you are still alive.

When my grandmother was alive, he used to talk with her at least once a week by phone, sometimes two to three times per week. He didn't keep up with anyone else in the family, but he would call her.

Of course, she isn't there anymore.

On the one hand, it's not unusual for my uncle to go years without calling me or my mom.

On the other hand, the situation has changed. The family member that he did contact regularly is gone, and he set off into the wilderness, essentially, with no really set plans... and started off by calling my mom pretty regularly, and then just stopped. Also, all of the siblings are still in the process of settling my grandmother's estate, and he knows that some paperwork still needs to be filed that will need his signature, so he had promised to stay in touch to make that process easy.

It has left my mom (and now me) wondering if something awful happened. Did he have a terrible car accident? Did he get injured or killed (snake bite? bear attack? fall?) while hiking in the woods or the canyon, and have no way to call anyone because his cell phone battery was dead? Did he get mugged and injured or killed, with all his things stolen?

Or is he simply being a bit of a loner and enjoying the solitude?

When my mom first told me last week that she hadn't heard from him and was worried, my first reaction was, hey, he went years without calling you before, try not to worry....

But she's right. It's different this time. He doesn't have his parents to contact any more. He is not married and does not have kids of his own. He quit his job and moved out of his apartment in Texas, so he doesn't have co-workers or neighbors to notice if he doesn't come and go as usual. He recently broke up with his girlfriend. He doesn't get along well with his other two brothers, so he probably would not call them. My mom and my kids and I were the last family members he contacted, as far as we know.

I'm sure he has friends, and might even have talked with them. But we don't know their names or any contact information for them, so we have no way to know if he has kept in touch with them.

And although it isn't unusual for him not to spontaneously call, it is unusual for him to not return a telephone call within a few days. Unless (maybe?) he's camping in the woods for two weeks with a dead cell phone battery and no internet access.

I hope he's ok, and just enjoying the solitude.

But I'm worried he is dead somewhere and we may never even know where. Or when. Or how. I'm worried I may never hear his voice again, may never see his smile...

How does one know when to start calling the missing persons organizations, or the police, or... who? And which ones would I even call? He could be in Arizona, Nevada, California, Utah, Washington, Oregon or possibly even Idaho or Canada at this point, depending on whether he stuck to his original plans or changed them.

How long do you tell yourself not to worry, before you start to really worry?

Am I being ridiculous to even think there could be a problem? I'd hate to start a huge "manhunt" for a guy who was just wanting a few weeks with no telephone calls in the woods.

Or am I being ridiculous not to have called the police already? I'd hate to think he died waiting for help after falling or being bitten by a snake, all because I was too timid or too stupid to make the call.

God I hate not knowing what to do.


**************************
Update: Thanks to all for your kind comments. We finally heard from my uncle. He made it to San Francisco with no problems at all. And since he is no longer potentially traveling across a huge, extremely hot, very underpopulated desert / mountain area, I'll be a lot less worried about potential disasters. He still wouldn't promise to check in regularly, but at least there's less cause for worry. At this point, I'm sure he'll be fine. Hopefully he'll let us know when he settles somewhere.

Fine Parenting Moment #3129

Overheard at the dinner table, just prior to dinner last night:


Daughter (tunefully): "Lucy in the sky-y with di-i-a-monds... Lucy in the sky-y with di-i-a-monds....... ahhhhh, ahhhhh...."

Husband (inquisitively): "Who sings that song, anyway?"

Daughter (informatively): "The Beatles!"

Husband (sarcastically): "Yeah. Let's keep it that way!"

Daughter (you can imagine the tone and facial expression here): "Nyyaaah!"

* * * *

I shouldn't have laughed, but I did.

* * * *

Arizona Trivia

Today's Arizona trivia lesson features the lovely town of Snowflake, Arizona.

Lots of people think the town name came from its co-founders, the Snows and the Flakes. Almost, but apparently not quite, true.

According to the town's official web site, Snowflake, Arizona, was founded by a Mormon, William Flake, in honor of a Mormon Apostle, Erastus Snow. Thus, the name: Snow-Flake, drop the hyphen and it's Snowflake - an ironic name, since the town doesn't get much, if any, snow.

There are still Snows in Arizona, and Flakes. Jeff Flake, for example, is Arizona's Congressman for the 6th Congressional District.

Lots of people think he's sort of "flakey." (hahaha. sorry...)

G. Murray Snow is not, however, considered "flakey." He was a well-respected judge on the Arizona Court of Appeals (and a super-nice guy, too).

Dumb Stuff I've Done

Did I ever tell you about the time I got a speeding ticket, then signed up for the "diversion program" driving class to take care of the ticket, and then got into an accident on the way to the driving class?

Yeah, I did that. Really.

(Can you spell "E-M-B-A-R-R-A-S-S-I-N-G"??)

The police officer who showed up to take the accident report asked where I was going at the time of the accident. He rolled his eyes and laughed at my (truthful) answer. Ouch. Not going so well, here...

But in the end he did agree the accident wasn't really my fault, and so he did not give me another ticket. (I'm persuasive when I need to be. It's part of what makes me a good lawyer).

When I arrived at the class, one of the other students asked, loudly enough for everyone else to hear, "Wait! Didn't I see you outside? Weren't you the one who was in that accident I passed on the way in here?!?")

(Can you spell "A-S-S-H-O-L-E"??)

So I replied, "Yeah, well, I'm here to learn to drive better, but I bet you'll always be an ass."

. . . . . . .

(OK, no, I didn't really say that. I just wish I had. But the rest is true ... )

Friday Feature - Throo Da Looking Glass

I often check in at "Best Posts of the Week," scroll through the listings, and click on anything that sounds interesting. I rarely read all the posts in any given week - there are too many, usually - but I always stop in and read some of them. So this is a shout-out for BPOTW, as well as for my featured blog. It's fun to see what's out there, and I often discover new blogs I like.

This past weekend, I discovered a new favorite blog: Throo Da Looking Glass. It features gorgeous and interesting photographs, generally one per day, with usually minimal, but insightful, commentary. It's exactly what I need some days -- a few moments of beauty to brighten my outlook.

Check it out!