Once in awhile, I take a look at my horoscope.
I call up the website and seek out the daily prognostication for those of the Cancer persuasion. I always have a furtive, guilty feeling as I'm reading it.
It's a reflexive action based on years of attendance at an Assembly of God church that viewed astrology on about the same level as the Church of God sect that handled snakes.
Most of the time, it's an exercise in futility, in many cases what I find is downright funny. The one reliable thing is that it is almost never accurate. Which in some cases, when the stars divine all sorts of wonderful things makes me mad. But on the other hand, when my fate is toward some sort of downfall, I can more easily dismiss it.
Just hokum...why do I even read this stuff? And then, the other day came this semi-ominous warning about Mercury being in retrograde. I'll admit, my first thought was, does Ford still even make Mercury(ies)? And if so, how would it affect my life if they had to recall one?
A little Google search later and I learned that in the world of astrology, the planet Mercury going into retrograde is a pretty big deal. In Seinfeld-lingo, it would be akin to New-mania...Apparently, 3-4 times a year when this phenomena occurs 'ol Mercury (once again, the planet) slows down, and appears to stop (station) and move backward (retrograde). It's an optical illusion, since there is forward movement, like speeding by a slow-moving train -- as it recedes, it appears to go backward.
No biggie right? Well apparently when this happens, those who live their lives per the planets say that it causes all manner of weird things happening. Computers go on the fritz, traffic lights act up, phone lines go down, dogs start having kittens, cousins start marrying...ok, I made the last two up. Some diehards refuse to do anything when Mercury is in retrograde, sign contracts, get married, make plans, etc. And there is one sect out in the dark web, that suggests that for your own safety, you lay pretty low, and they mean it, going so far as to refuse even leaving their homes.
Reading this, I scoffed and snickered,
Pfft..."My horoscope is never right anyway!"
That was the night before my computer went down the first time. I say first because I am on the approximately 76th system restore of the week. My computer has chuntered and squeezed out more heat sink fan gibberish than Jar Jar Binks in the first 30 minutes of "The Phantom Menace".
Still don't believe me, take the colander incident. Now I have washed and polished the same spaghetti strainer for approximately 20 years. I thought it indestructible, an aluminum piece of art. I have poured boiling noodles that could have been lava from Mt. St Helens into this receptacle. It's taken more rides in the dishwasher than Michael Jackson at Neverland. Hell, it's outlived three of the last four dishwashers I've had. It's never had so much as a ding from the time I used it to clean a couple of rocks that I thought might be dinosaur fossils (they weren't). Or the time that I thought I might have found a rare penny and cooked up a little potion that the internet guaranteed would have the pennies shining like the day they left the mint and I used the strainer to sift and sieve the treated coins. Then Tuesday came and I was unloading the dishwasher as usual, outside the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and as I turned to stack glasses back in the upper cabinet, my hip grazed the colander from the hook on the wall where it lives and it fell to the floor. I replaced it, it fell again, and again I replaced it and again it fell and again and again.
By this time, I was getting mad, my blood boiled and about the 5th time it fell, I did the unthinkable. In a fit of rage, I took that colander and bounced it halfway across the kitchen floor, thinking, 'it deserves this and nothing will ever happen, it's indestructible'. But then as it boomeranged back to land at my feet, I saw that my hitherto indestructible colander's side was bent! Scarred, wounded and I was in no doubt where the fault lay....Mercury.
Mercury had done this.
And there were other things, oh yes, other things. Due to Mercury, I forgot to watch the Indy 500, the Kentucky Derby, The Preakness, and I'm sure Mercury was to blame for Rory McIlroy dropping 80 at his own tournament! I know it was Mercury that caused the entire right side rod of my closet to collapse, raining down garments like a Filene's basement sale.
And though a skeptic still, Mercury has certainly given me pause....and June 11th can't come soon enough, you know so I can leave my room again.
There is some good news though, last night my fortune cookie said, "You will find your solution where you least expect it."
Although, I don't really believe in fortune cookies...
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Let's Hear It For the Boys (and Girls)
It's Memorial Day tomorrow...
Used to be that I viewed it as the summer kick-off, a sort of warm up to the traditional seasonal high water mark that is the Fourth of July. Call it summer's Christmas if you will....
BBQ's, the start of the summer blockbuster movie season, beach time, pool time, lazy crazy days of summer...
And I'm sorry to have to admit, I was in my late 20's before I really understood it for what it was.
It took Flags of Our Fathers, Saving Private Ryan, Taking Chance and lots of personal study before I really...got it.
Memorial Day used to be Decoration Day.
History states that in 1868, The Grand Army of the Republic (read that Union Army) established the last Monday in May as a national day to decorate the graves of the war dead. The graves of the turn-coat 'suthenahs' Confederate dead were similarly adorned but on a separate day. It took until the early 20th century for the two factions to finally unify and allow what we now recognize and celebrate as Memorial Day as a day to honor all who died in the service of their country. It's important to note that Memorial Day isn't Veterans' Day.
You see Veterans' Day honors the living who served.
Memorial Day commemorates the dead who died in service to their country.
And it is this fact that changed me.
Watching TV over the last few days, something kept sticking in my craw...
No it wasn't the fact that NCIS may or may not have killed off Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and by God CBS, if you take Gibbs from me, I can promise you it will be a cold day in H E, double hockey sticks that I watch one more program on your network. I'll even boycott any offerings you run on Netflix on principle. You can have McGee, you can take Palmer, and I probably could even handle losing Bishop, Vance and maybe even Abby but if you touch one hair on the head of Gibbs, or DiNozzo, I won't even watch the re-runs...
It wasn't the fact that NBC is ending American Idol, now if only E would follow suit and axe the whole Kardashian-Jenner freak show that is corrupting the moral fiber of this country.
And it wasn't the fact that Bill Murray appeared odd and possibly intoxicated on the last Letterman show (but Jerry Seinfeld, you were a total mensch and rocked the tux you so flatteringly wore, good on you showing the others -looking at you Jim Carrey- what really class is)
All kidding aside, what's been sticking in my craw, are the commercials...
You know the ones,
"Head on over to World of Mattresses for our Annual Memorial Day Blowout!"
"Old clunker dying, check out our Memorial Day Bonanza at Kalamazoo Rio Kia!"
Driving by the Gold Platinum Gym today, I see they are offering a special Memorial Day $10 a month for 3 months Membership.
And that's when I snapped.
I'm a person of images, it's how I view everything. I take pictures in my mind and I remember things.
A few came to mind...
I saw the scared freckled faces of boys knee deep in water as they waded to the slaughter waiting for them on the beaches of Normandy.
I saw the trembling hands of a soldier taking one last drag on a cigarette ankle deep in a water-logged foxhole before preparing to go 'over the top' in the Ardennes.
The medics carrying bloody bodies one over each arm evacuating Saigon as it descended into chaos and burning.
Pictures of men missing limbs from the IED's planted by insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The images just kept coming, I can't even tell you all of them...some too horrific to 'un-see'.
Snatches of what I'd read, movies I'd seen....
One Memorial Day weekend back in 1988, I remember being angry with my Dad. I wanted to go to the beach with friends. It sounded so great, hotdogs and coca-colas, fruit roll ups, sand in my flip flops, and my walk-man in my ears. He sat me down and said that I was old enough to understand that Memorial Day wasn't a vacation, it wasn't a day for a picnic, it was a day of mourning. All I understood it to mean was that there wasn't going to be a party that day for Jill. He made me sit and watch movies like Bridge on the River Kwai, The Green Berets, and Platoon...I sat with my arms folded and my mind closed...angry and pouting.
Some time after that my Dad asked me what I was learning in school, I told him we were doing a unit on Vietnam. He asked what I knew. I spouted off things like the Tet Offensive, Fall of Saigon dates, times, parroting what the teacher thought was the minimum we ought to know. Then he asked for my textbook, and fool that I am, I smugly handed it over. My Dad took it and read silently for few minutes. After about 8 minutes had elapsed of me sitting in silence as he read, he sat up and with a shouted exclamation threw the textbook halfway across the living room where it crashed into the dining room wall. I sat stock still, frozen in place wondering what I had done. Then Dad said, "This, this is what they are teaching you?!!".
That day, for the first time in my life, my Dad sat me down and he told me the truth. About the government, about the torture inflicted on some men, the POW's who still hadn't come home, about coming back home himself to a fractured country that never welcomed him. Even his own family never would really talk to him about the war. It was as if, he'd gone on some overseas foreign exchange program. No thank yous, no joy at their safe return, just a bunch of guys who'd given their all to their country, fought a war that wasn't 'popular' and were left to suck it up and go back to their lives like nothing ever happened.
Just the other day, I read that as late as 2004, the State of Maryland finally issued a proclamation welcoming back Vietnam Veterans.
So I hope that you'll forgive me for thinking that Memorial Day isn't the time to go buy a new car, a new mattress, or appliance.
It isn't the start of the summer movie blockbusters.
It isn't a day for you to see if you can drink your weight in Bud...
Tomorrow is a day of mourning.
I urge you to think about those boys and girls...the ones that never came back.
Think about their wives, husbands, parents, brothers, sisters, kids...the families who will never be the same.
If you are religiously inclined, maybe take a moment to say a prayer for the families, for the country, for peace.
Take a moment of silence.
Take a moment to remember them and the fact that they made the ultimate sacrifice for this country.
Used to be that I viewed it as the summer kick-off, a sort of warm up to the traditional seasonal high water mark that is the Fourth of July. Call it summer's Christmas if you will....
BBQ's, the start of the summer blockbuster movie season, beach time, pool time, lazy crazy days of summer...
And I'm sorry to have to admit, I was in my late 20's before I really understood it for what it was.
It took Flags of Our Fathers, Saving Private Ryan, Taking Chance and lots of personal study before I really...got it.
Memorial Day used to be Decoration Day.
History states that in 1868, The Grand Army of the Republic (read that Union Army) established the last Monday in May as a national day to decorate the graves of the war dead. The graves of the turn-coat 'suthenahs' Confederate dead were similarly adorned but on a separate day. It took until the early 20th century for the two factions to finally unify and allow what we now recognize and celebrate as Memorial Day as a day to honor all who died in the service of their country. It's important to note that Memorial Day isn't Veterans' Day.
You see Veterans' Day honors the living who served.
Memorial Day commemorates the dead who died in service to their country.
And it is this fact that changed me.
Watching TV over the last few days, something kept sticking in my craw...
No it wasn't the fact that NCIS may or may not have killed off Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and by God CBS, if you take Gibbs from me, I can promise you it will be a cold day in H E, double hockey sticks that I watch one more program on your network. I'll even boycott any offerings you run on Netflix on principle. You can have McGee, you can take Palmer, and I probably could even handle losing Bishop, Vance and maybe even Abby but if you touch one hair on the head of Gibbs, or DiNozzo, I won't even watch the re-runs...
It wasn't the fact that NBC is ending American Idol, now if only E would follow suit and axe the whole Kardashian-Jenner freak show that is corrupting the moral fiber of this country.
And it wasn't the fact that Bill Murray appeared odd and possibly intoxicated on the last Letterman show (but Jerry Seinfeld, you were a total mensch and rocked the tux you so flatteringly wore, good on you showing the others -looking at you Jim Carrey- what really class is)
All kidding aside, what's been sticking in my craw, are the commercials...
You know the ones,
"Head on over to World of Mattresses for our Annual Memorial Day Blowout!"
"Old clunker dying, check out our Memorial Day Bonanza at Kalamazoo Rio Kia!"
Driving by the Gold Platinum Gym today, I see they are offering a special Memorial Day $10 a month for 3 months Membership.
And that's when I snapped.
I'm a person of images, it's how I view everything. I take pictures in my mind and I remember things.
A few came to mind...
I saw the scared freckled faces of boys knee deep in water as they waded to the slaughter waiting for them on the beaches of Normandy.
I saw the trembling hands of a soldier taking one last drag on a cigarette ankle deep in a water-logged foxhole before preparing to go 'over the top' in the Ardennes.
The medics carrying bloody bodies one over each arm evacuating Saigon as it descended into chaos and burning.
Pictures of men missing limbs from the IED's planted by insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The images just kept coming, I can't even tell you all of them...some too horrific to 'un-see'.
Snatches of what I'd read, movies I'd seen....
One Memorial Day weekend back in 1988, I remember being angry with my Dad. I wanted to go to the beach with friends. It sounded so great, hotdogs and coca-colas, fruit roll ups, sand in my flip flops, and my walk-man in my ears. He sat me down and said that I was old enough to understand that Memorial Day wasn't a vacation, it wasn't a day for a picnic, it was a day of mourning. All I understood it to mean was that there wasn't going to be a party that day for Jill. He made me sit and watch movies like Bridge on the River Kwai, The Green Berets, and Platoon...I sat with my arms folded and my mind closed...angry and pouting.
Some time after that my Dad asked me what I was learning in school, I told him we were doing a unit on Vietnam. He asked what I knew. I spouted off things like the Tet Offensive, Fall of Saigon dates, times, parroting what the teacher thought was the minimum we ought to know. Then he asked for my textbook, and fool that I am, I smugly handed it over. My Dad took it and read silently for few minutes. After about 8 minutes had elapsed of me sitting in silence as he read, he sat up and with a shouted exclamation threw the textbook halfway across the living room where it crashed into the dining room wall. I sat stock still, frozen in place wondering what I had done. Then Dad said, "This, this is what they are teaching you?!!".
That day, for the first time in my life, my Dad sat me down and he told me the truth. About the government, about the torture inflicted on some men, the POW's who still hadn't come home, about coming back home himself to a fractured country that never welcomed him. Even his own family never would really talk to him about the war. It was as if, he'd gone on some overseas foreign exchange program. No thank yous, no joy at their safe return, just a bunch of guys who'd given their all to their country, fought a war that wasn't 'popular' and were left to suck it up and go back to their lives like nothing ever happened.
Just the other day, I read that as late as 2004, the State of Maryland finally issued a proclamation welcoming back Vietnam Veterans.
So I hope that you'll forgive me for thinking that Memorial Day isn't the time to go buy a new car, a new mattress, or appliance.
It isn't the start of the summer movie blockbusters.
It isn't a day for you to see if you can drink your weight in Bud...
Tomorrow is a day of mourning.
I urge you to think about those boys and girls...the ones that never came back.
Think about their wives, husbands, parents, brothers, sisters, kids...the families who will never be the same.
If you are religiously inclined, maybe take a moment to say a prayer for the families, for the country, for peace.
Take a moment of silence.
Take a moment to remember them and the fact that they made the ultimate sacrifice for this country.
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