Salty like hot dogs (and tears). Sweet like marmalade (and life).
The fond fantasy of the elderly is to remain independent. Yet networks of interdependence sustain human usefulness and purpose.
~~ William Willimon, Aging: Growing Old in Church
Diversity: the art of thinking independently together.
~~ Malcolm Forbes
The further human society drifts away from nature, the less we understand interdependence.
~~Peter Senge
In this labyrinth maze called age
I walk with care
The twists and turns engage? enrage?
No stage seems fair
If I am young I may be strong
In old age wise
Will my next choice be right or wrong?
I agonize
To quickly choose or take my time
Hingeing on what?
Whether I’m young or in my prime
Life’s not clear-cut
This is my response to today JusJoJan prompt: labyrinth. It’s an Irish poetic for called a deachnadh cummaisc:
The photo is my brother walking a labyrinth in Bayeux.
The prompt for today is transmission. I groaned.
Even though I grew up in a science-y medical family, where my first thought should have been disease transmission or something like that, I thought of a car.
I don’t understand cars, specifically car engines.
When I was in high school, I found out I could miss classes one afternoon by taking the ASVAB (Armed Forces Vocational Aptitude Battery) test. It was for kids who were looking to go into the military. I wasn’t looking to go into the military, but I was looking to miss a few classes.
I’ve always been a good test-taker – very logical brain and all that. I was good in English, had taken a year of French, and was taking Latin. I had always been placed in advanced math classes. However, the ASVAB had questions that were so puzzling to me that I was flat-out guessing on.
The question I remember best is “What is the function of a carburetor?” I had no idea.
After the test, I asked one of the boys in my class about carburetors. He immediately answered — because he knew — but I was no better informed on carburetors than I was before the question or the test for that matter.
Over the years, I’ve told that story and asked many people what a carburetor does.
I know the answer, but I really don’t. The answer that I could now correctly choose in a multiple guess situation on a test is that the carburetor mixes air with fuel. The fuel needs air to burn.
To be clear, those are just words that I’m saying. I don’t know what they mean.
When I coached swimming, I would get in the water before giving the swimmers a new drill to do so that I knew what the drill felt. I knew from my own experience what their arm should feel like or how their legs should be kicking.
Carburetors? I don’t know.
Transmissions? I don’t know.
I asked a friend what a car transmission does. He said it changes the gears, or changes the car from park to drive, something like that.
“So it’s like the stick-shift when I had a standard?” I asked.
“No,” he said, “that’s a gear box.”
Clear as mud.
I’m a deep-diver. I want to understand. Something in my brain has to click so it’s more than words I’m saying. I want it to be something I really know.
This is why I watch the god-awful videos of the shootings.
Sometimes the words people say don’t line up with what I’m seeing.
So I watch another video.
And another.
I listen to the explanations from one side.
And then from the other.
I may never understand carburetors or transmissions, but I feel very confident in saying that the victims in Minneapolis are not the Border Patrol agents (as Gregory Bovino says), but are the people who are trying to help their neighbors and are ending up dead.
I really don’t understand how we came to this place as a country. That’s even more of a mystery to me than a carburetor.
“Haud yer wheesht”
“Yer bum’s oot the windae”
These are my two lines for One-Liner Wednesday. I know, I know — it’s supposed to be only one.
I’m getting ready for my third Burns-ish celebration that I do with the seniors where I work. I’ve got the bagpiper set, haggis in the fridge, and cooking to do this weekend.
These two lines are Scottish. I have yet to go to Scotland, but I love reading about, watching movies set there, listening to the accent, etc.
Wheesht alone means hush, like talking to a child. But Haud yer weesht is a wee bit stronger, like Be Quiet!
Yer bum’s oot the windae means You’re talking rubbish.
I chose those two Scottish lines because I’ve been thinking about one of my countrymen who HAS traveled to Scotland, may even own property there in the form of a golf course or two, who may be abroad right now, who really needs to learn to wheesht because his bum’s oot the windae, if you know what I mean.
I have some regular visitors to my office. I rather like that. I watch them peek around the door to see if someone else is in my office.
“Is the coast clear?” or “Can I come in?” or “Is it all right if I say hi?”
Of course, I invite them in. It’s the best part of my day.
These days, I have a frequent flyer. I’ll call him Stan.
He’s a can-I-come-in kind of guy. “How are you, young lady?” he always asks.
Between you and me, I hate being called “young lady.” I’m not young. I may not even be much of a lady. And he’s younger than I am. Whatever.
“So what did you have for dinner last night?” He always asks that. I tell him. Even when it’s peanut butter and jelly. I think he’s looking for dinner ideas.
When I was cooking for my tribe, the hardest part was the idea.
If someone told me that tonight was meatloaf night, I would make a meatloaf. But coming up with the idea for meatloaf was something that taxed my brain.
So I started writing out a monthly menu.
Seriously.
My very first blog — 20-some years ago — included a page that was “What’s for dinner tonight.” I had a friend that told me that’s what she always went to first. For the idea.
I don’t even remember the name of that blog.
Sad, but true.
Why am I telling you all this? Oh, yeah. Stan in my office.
Stan comes in to talk. About this and that. About nothing, really.
And yet about everything.
“I love talking to you,” he said today. “You’re very honest.”
I don’t know how to be anything but.
“You’re strong,” he said.
I might beg to differ, but what good would it do?
“What are you having for dinner tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied, honestly, weakly. I really don’t.
I think there’s something unspoken in all these conversations.
I’m not 100% sure what it is, but I think it’s the honesty.
I’m not looking to BS anyone. My life is my life — full of mis-steps and mistakes.
Come into my office and I’ll tell you all about it.
And listen to you talk about your less-than-perfect life.
The coast is clear.
You can come in.
It’s okay if you want to say hi.
I started a post on baking cinnamon rolls and how the baker develops a recognition of the consistency of the dough as it’s being kneaded. Yes, this yeast is alive and doing the thing it’s supposed to do.
But then I second-guessed myself. Few people will relate to that, I thought.
My fallback is to find a quote using the prompt. I forgot to mention that today’s prompt was consistency.
Consistency quotes are, well, pretty consistent. Encouragement to stick with a thing.
“Success isn’t always about greatness. It’s about consistency. Consistent hard work leads to success. Greatness will come.” ~~ Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson
“Consistency is the mother of mastery.” ~~ author unknown
“The secret to winning is constant, consistent management.” ~~ Tom Landry
“Long-term consistency trumps short-term intensity.” ~~ Bruce Lee
“Small disciplines repeated with consistency every day lead to great achievements gained slowly over time.” ~~ John C. Maxwell
You get the idea, right?
And it’s great advice; it really is!
But then I read Oscar Wilde’s quote on consistency.
He always was a rebel.
And I really appreciate that.
One of my mother’s favorite sayings when something was lost was, “It’s always the last place you look.”
It’s funny, I suppose. I say it myself these days.
But it’s really NOT funny when you’ve lost something and looked EVERYWHERE. This has been the case for me this past week. I lost my new glasses. I have looked everywhere.
Everywhere.
And yet my mother keeps whispering in my ear, “Keep looking. It’s always the last place you look.”
Not helpful.
This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday for which the prompt was “favorite saying“.
Okay — so there have been times in my life when I have started something and midway through stopped to ask, “Whose dumb idea was this?” Of course it was mine.
Of course it was.
When the JusJoJan prompt for today came up, I looked at the word — symbiotic — and thought, whose dumb was that?! I think you know the answer.
I had quickly submitted it as a prompt word while feeling very frustrated with the state of our country. We’re at odds with each other too much.
I think the beauty of our country has been that we don’t always have to agree. We are free to disagree. We are free to speak about what we believe. We are free to be who we want to be. AND we are free to seek a mutual good for us all.
Until now.
But I don’t want to focus on that.
Symbiosis is when two different species or organisms live intertwined lives.
Here are three different symbiotic relationships:
Commensialism is where one species benefits and the other remains neutral. An example is barnacles on whales. The barnacle benefits from the free ride and access to plankton; the whale is unaffected. In politics, it may be the politician who considers a bill doesn’t really affect his constituents and doesn’t come with a big pricetage. It may benefit another state significantly without costing him anything. He votes FOR it.
Mutualism is where both species benefit, like bees and flowers. In politics, this may be the behind-the-scenes negotiating on some big bill. The politician may say this part benefits me and that part benefits you. Let’s do it.
Parasitism is when one species benefits and the other is harmed. Ticks immediately come to mind. Blood-sucking disease-bearing arachnids that we can all do without. Political analogy? I’ll leave that up to you.
My mother always used to say, “The older you get, the better you get, unless you’re a banana.”
~~ Betty White
This post brought to you by JusJoJan, One-Liner Wednesday, and bananas.
“RAWRGWAWGGR“
Chewbacca, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope
This post brought to you by the JusJoJan prompt: chewy
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 