I can’t remember exactly which summer it was, ’59 or ’60, but the rest is crystal clear. I learned a most valuable worldly lesson that day. It was an education and a humiliation. A lesson in respect and that old adage: never judge a book by its cover.

It is often said that in the repressed and carefree 1950s that kids didn’t know about sex. That’s not exactly true. We didn’t know what lovemaking was or how a baby was born, but we certainly had a primitive knowledge of sex appeal.

Little girls knew they liked boys who were “cute,” and try as we may to think of girls as “icky,” we boys knew we wanted to be near the pretty ones.

If a girl was pretty and also able to run and catch and kick like a boy too, then she was even more desirable to be around.

Read the rest of this entry

I once found myself with a homeless man on the trunk of my car,apparently trying to get my attention because I didn’t “look at him”. I was stopped at a red light at an intersection when I noticed him on the corner by a Jack-In-the-Box restaurant.  I saw him, then glanced the other way, waiting for the light to turn green.  Suddenly, I heard a thud coming from my trunk and felt the back of my car drop. There, lounging on my car, was the homeless man – oblivious to the honks surrounding him.  I ran out to get an explanation and persuade him to get off, and he says to me, “Oh, now you notice me.”  Lesson number one:  Don’t ignore the homeless.

Read the rest of this entry

Stupid people.

Yellow curb. Means park somewhere else.

Looking for a free lunch, perfect pitch, the holy grail, or a parking spot in front of the courthouse, which for this truck means a 35 foot slot in the lineup.

Not only are they parked on yellow, aCROSS from the sheriff’s office, they hadn’t the decency to close up the gaps. Between every bumper and fender ekes a tantalizing 30 feet, as if they only had so many cars to lock up all the parallel spots so they had to space em out.

Ever since the arraignment for one Charles Haught, middle-aged life drop-out, rapist and murderer of one Wesley Campbridge, seven year-old, ever since every mobile news unit from three surrounding counties had converged and taken up residence in front of Bourbon County Circuit Courthouse, people had ceased fudging the customary ten to fifteen feet of yellow, and now strung all the way across it in the spirit of the old adage about forgiveness and permission.

If Action News 36 can do it, well by George. . .

In my mind I know it’s 9:43 and in my DIAD are 8 uncompleted 10:30 commit stops, two of them bulk, and one of them across town.

Without looking, I sense a looming diesel presence in the fold-out sideview mirror, the same white Ford dualy that’s been dogging me from 10th Street, edging out from behind just enough to make sure I know he wants around.

Knock yourself out, sweetheart. F’you can fit that monster in between my mirror and the half-lane that’s left, you’re more driver than I am. No doubt he thinks he is. More to the point, no doubt he’s been cussin me all the way down Main since I pulled in front of him.

Had to cut somebody off.

Watched twenty cars amble by with that same maddening gap precision. Twenty cars, a minute-and-a-half I ain’t got. The second I nosed out into traffic, he ghosted up to my bumper so close I could see the Ford oval on his grill in my rear camera monitor.

Yeah, now you’re in a hurry.

I can see his mouth moving, so I put words in it. Fool kid, pull out in front of me, and some other words that normally I would never think, were I not forced into providing captions for his thought balloons. It wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t feel just a little bit guilty. Guilt pressed in between time and stress oozes out looking like road rage.

A blue Caravan with a bandaged rear window and a bumper just hanging on for dear life pulls away from the curb in front of me, at about the same time the Ford gets the four inches he’s been wanting for ten blocks, and here he comes, loosening the reins of all 350 horses, and billowing acrimony from both 5 inch chrome horns.

The hapless grocery-getter dawdles on out in his lane. He hauls up on the reins, the whistling downshift an automotive curse. If I had time, I’d be laughing. Good thing I don’t. He’s up even with me now, looking right at me, distilling all his frustration with the Caravan and the world in general into the last minute spent staring at the back of a delivery truck. I can see his silent swearing indignance.

He’s a mouth breather. Unfortunate orifice, that. The gaps in between the parked cars should be so wide.
Still, he manages to impart more scorn through his NASCAR shades and the bubbled tint than Estella ever cast down on Pip, Chillingworth on Rev. Dimmesdale, or the parabled Pharisee upon the publican.
Turning my attention to the vast expanse of gleaming yellow curb vacated by the departing Caravan, I cut as close as I can and then back, dimming the luminous paint with my rubbing tires.

The stop I need is half a block back.

Shoving the truck into park, I fall into a habitual series of movements, park, brake, key out, seatbelt off, mirror in, bulkhead door; a succession so varied but seamless, a truly Faulkneresque regimen.
Dodging strategically positioned and scarcely mobile redneck sidewalk ornaments, I finally make it to the intended destination, a lawyer’s office, and pull hard on the door.

It’s locked, and the jolt shakes the glassed-in front wall.

The over-cooked, under-worked (minesweeper?) secretary jerks around so suddenly that her desk chair becomes a tilt-a-whirl, and she steadies herself with a what on earth expression. (oh help, another mouth breather) Sizing up the situation, she then laughs, slaps the desk so hard I can hear it out here, and puts her forehead down on her hand, big shoulders shaking.

9:46.

Odd seconds rush out into eternity while she has a good winding down laugh about how startled she was and how she forgot to unlock that front door again!

She gets up from the chair in hitches and explains the noise over her shoulder to someone in the back room, actually stopping mid-way and, what, turning to raise her voice because they can’t hear her.
When she opens the door, “Oh my land’s sakes, you scared me to death-” throwing her head down and slapping a meaty thigh, and sucking in the next phrase through a hearty laugh “I-I-I thought somebody ran into the building-ing-ing, and and Haley hollered up here and said, ‘What in tarnation is that, did some kid run his bicycle into the front door?’ Ooohhhh, I forgot to unlock it!”

I, am speechless.

Come in.

I would, of course, decline, but it appears she isn’t going to physically accept the package, possible germophobe, but no, she just stuck a pen in her mouth. The packages, including this 2 oz. next-day-air envelope, go on a table in that back room.

The one on the left?

No, down the stairs, to the right, through the gray door.

Returning from the dungeon, I offer her the DIAD to sign.

Oh no, Betty signs for everything.

Betty?

Downstairs, you didn’t see her?

Poor Betty’s been having indigestion all morning, she explains when she emerges from the rest room at 9:52. How fast can you empathize? My foot is one inch from the bottom step of the truck when a voice falls across my tense shoulders like a war club.

Hey, buddy.

Contemplation of feigned deafness tempts me for a second.

Sigh.

Yeah? Turning, sounding relaxed, helpful.

Oh no, it’s Jethro Bodine gone to neglected seed, Santa Clause’s Appalachian counterpart, except I don’t think he’s going to give me anything. The v-necked t-shirt stopped being white shortly after it stopped rying to reach down to the sweat pants. Chest hair, copious and curly, nestles in the plunging neckline. The grace of a beard has been weeded out to a mockery of sweat, oil and tangles. Sixty degrees and sweat beads his forehead and speckles his shirt. He hooks a thumb to the courthouse.
Can you tell me what that says? Over his shoulder my eyes focus on a computer-printed sign taped to the door of the courthouse. Forgot his glasses, I guess.

Hurrying around him, I’m almost there before I realize the print is three inches tall.

Behind me, I hear “I just. . . can’t read.”

Something jams into my spokes, locking up the wheels of time and task and what I call trouble.

Uh, it says the courthouse is closed-ummm, scanning the two lines as if it were fine print-uh, open. . . tomorrow. Turning to face him, Well that’s odd, babbling, wonder why they’re closed, no holiday.

That’s okay, he says.

All right, well have a good one, man.

Sorry-he looks me in the eye-just, can’t read.

Hey, no problem, no problem at all, have a good one, have a good day.

I thank ye’.

You t-no problem, have- we’ll see you.

Delivering next day air, I don’t have time to think about the flush that stains my cheeks, or the lump logging my throat.

natenrae

I know that most of these will have readers thinking a little about their behavior. These are based on my experiences growing up in the Heart of Dixie.
Lindsay Mulder

1. Fat kids are only cute if they belong to someone else.
2. Just because people don’t say that your children aren’t hideous doesn’t mean that they aren’t. Stop finding modeling agencies for your ugly kids.
3. A politician’s wife supports him. She knows she’ll live in infamy for being married to an alpha male.
4. You are only special to your family and friends.
5. A hundred years after your death, nobody will care that you existed.
6. Regardless of what they say, people don’t like hearing stories about your dog.
7. If you are a woman and you join a predominantly male company, don’t whine when they won’t include you in their conversations.
8. Women that file lawsuits because a man looked at them too long need to be fired for being too sensitive. Our husbands may work there. You make them uncomfortable.
9. If you go out in a short skirt, halter- top and high heels, you WILL be looked at. Stop whining.
10. If you don’t want to run the risk of being groped, think twice before heading out to a bar in the middle of the night and getting plastered Read the rest of this entry

If only I knew then, what I know now life would be a lot different. Life might have been easier, decisions might not have been so hard. But thats the beauty of life. The unknown day that lies ahead of us. The simple fact is that, if we did know then what we know now, we would all be a bunch of smart ass’s. Life’s lessons, that only life can teach us, would never be learned. Thats why I am thankful that life didn’t give me the easy route. It chewed me up and spit me out. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

February 26 2003 9:00am

I was running late like a typical 17 year old. Life waited on me, I didn’t wait on life. It was that ignorant notion that got me into where I was going in the first place. “Not a care in the world” seemed to be my life motto at that typical time. I was nervous, I mean who wouldn’t be? Life would never throw me a bunch of cards I didn’t know how to play. Never. I was wrong. Read the rest of this entry

I must admit I have used the “mommy brain” excuse more than once in the past five years.  There are times that it truly feels as though my IQ has been halved with the birth of each of my three children.  So why does new research suggest that motherhood actually makes you smarter?  How could that be?  Do I just have a warped view of my former life or is it something altogether different?

My theory is that I have temporarily shut off the part of my brain that allows me to say intelligent things.   The capacity to think is still there.  I just have to use my brain for other purposes at this point.  One day, I will flip the switch and blossom into a GENIUS!

This temporary shut down became abundantly clear today when I made a complete ass of myself on the telephone.  We are looking into refinancing our home and the gentleman helping us out was attempting to give me his e-mail address.  I wasn’t sure if I heard him right, so naturally I read the address back to him…”m as in mom, p as in poop…”  I sh*t you not, I said “p as in poop” as if that was the association any normal human being would make.  Then I start laughing so hard I thought I was going to p as in pee.

I don’t know which is worse; the notion that this man believes that I am a moron or that he believes I am a complete nutjob.  If only I could shut off the part of the brain that cares about what other people think.

by Samantha Brill

I think it was one of the most awkward moments of my life. He called, asked if we could hang out tonight, and i agreed, thinking it was going to be another nonchalant evening with one of my good friends. I was completely oblivious to his true plans until the moment his mom dropped us off alone at Applebee’s, and then she winked at you, and told us to “have fun.”

It was a complete set-up.

i have to admit my initial reaction was, ” Ohhhh No! ” Curse myself for not having common sense! I was on a date. Rummaging through my mind in panic, I was trying to think of every possible way i could have mislead him to believe i had any special feelings for him, or did something towards him inadvertently turning him on, or maybe I’d had misunderstood his intentions of the night in the first place.

So he got us a table and i could tell through his blundering ways of speaking he was nervous about the entire ordeal. To make matters worse, he made me guess who he liked, and he described every aspect of me down to the minute fact of how I laugh and then either clap my hands or smack something, making it easily distinguishable whom he were talking about.

Already i began foraging though my mind frantically searching for possible excuses that he might redeem satisfactory to my polite decline. I remember how in middle school, i prayed so forcefully for these “asking out” occasions to arise. Funny how one boy can screw that up for the rest of them. And then you dropped the bomb on me like you thought I had no idea and that excitement and jubilance would swell up from my soul. It didn’t quite work out like that, but I’m still in utter disbelief you would think i’d like you as more than friends. I told how i was sorry about the instant ‘No’ response. But geeze, it is not the way to a girl’s heart to manipulate her on a date!

I hope the night for him wasn’t a total calamity. Despite all that awkward moments, i did fancy hanging out with him, as friends.

Going through a divorce can be one of the most painful and stressful things you ever have to go through, alternatively your marriage might have got to the stage where the prospect of divorce actually gives you a feeling of freedom and relief. Either way, it’s going to bring back strong and sometimes painful emotions and it’s not something you can just coast through. Here are five things you need to consider when going through a divorce.

Allow Yourself To Grieve

Whether you were married for one year or fifty years you need to make sure you allow yourself the time to grieve that relationship. No matter how bad things got towards the end there would have been a point where that person would have been a massive part of your life. They don’t call that person your other half for nothing and going through a divorce can be like losing half yourself so take the time to morn that relationship, the time that you spent together and the companionship that relationship was always meant to provide. No one expects you to just deal with getting a divorce, taking some time off work is perfectly acceptable and your friends aren’t going to expect you to be your usual self for a while either.

Find  A New Hobby

You marriage would have taken up a significant amount of time whether you actually spent a lot of time together or not. Things like DIY jobs around the house, getting the grocery shopping or making sure there’s a meal on the table each evening. You might have watched television together in the evenings or gone out together on Saturday nights. You need to make sure you have something new you can fill that time with, take up a new hobby or find a new interest. You need to be careful that this doesn’t turn into an obsession though, it just needs to be something you can do when you catch yourself at a lose end or missing the things you used to do as a couple.

Keep yourself Fit and healthy

When you’re going through a divorce it can be very tempting to spend the nights curled up on the sofa watching TV and pigging out on takeaway food but this isn’t cleaver. You need to make sure you maintain some semblance of a healthy lifestyle. Even if you’re just cooking for one each night instead of two you still need to eat a healthy diet and lounging around on the sofa every night is just going to make you feel even worse. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle ensures your moods stay as even as possible, exercise can take your mind off what you’re going through and it might be a great way to get out there and start making new friends away from your existing circle who only ever knew you as one half of a couple.

Recognize the things out of your control

You need to make sure you’re not trying to move mountains and you’re just concentrating on things that are in your control. You have very little power over things like the legal system or what your soon to be ex does with their free time and wasting energy focusing on these negative things is just going to drag you down. It’s so much easier to say than do but you really do need to put these things out your mind and get on with your own life.

Surround yourself with people you love

You’re still going to have people who love you in your life, your family and close friends are the key to surviving a divorce and you need to make sure you have people you can trust there for you when you need them. If you’re having a hard day whether it’s because something has actually happened or just because you’re not feeling great you need someone who’s going to listen to your vent without getting angry with you. You need people you know are only going to give you great advice when you need it and people who make you feel valued and loved and no matter how bad your divorce is. Make sure you’ve got someone on speed dial that can always make you smile.

Sam works for Bennett Griffin who are divorce solicitors.

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I don’t know what it is about the simple act of changing a calendar year, but New Year’s Day is always a time of resolutions and renewal in our home.  We take this chance to start fresh and change things which we have not been happy with the previous year.  While some things cannot be changed, such as medical issues and the nagging car repairs that come at the most inopportune time, there are many things about our lives which we can change when we set our minds to the task.  The first tradition we have at our home is that of buying a wonderful and decorative calendar to hang on our wall.  Sometimes we are given one for the holidays, other times we purchase our own.  Every New Year’s Day I remove our old calendar and hang our new one.  In the process, I first copy over any important family dates such as birthdays or anniversaries which I need to remember throughout the New Year.  Many people set out to celebrate New Year’s Day by making resolutions which they really don’t have any real desire to fight to keep going throughout the year.  If you have ever been in a health club or gym in January, then you know how many people can be there that you will never see again come February.  It would be almost funny, if it wasn’t so sad.  

The key to making your New Year’s resolutions and having them become reality in your life is to start small and really dedicate yourself to what you want to change in your life.  If you are overweight, or even simply want to get into better shape, start with eating better and walking around your own neighborhood before you shell out the big money for a membership to a gym.  Another good way to spend your New Years Day is to take the opportunity of the New Year to clean out and purge your living quarters.  It is very common to bring home your gifts from holiday celebrations and then have no where to put them.  By doing some much needed de-cluttering and purging you can have space for all of your new treasures and make some nice donations of your unused items as well.  Two of the best places to get rid of your unwanted items are through your local thrift store or freecycle.org.  Thrift stores will generally take just about anything which they can re-sell to others.  With freecycle.org you send out an e-mail to your local area and the person interested in what you have to offer will come pick-up your unwanted items.  Both your thrift store and freecycle.org are good ways to keep your unwanted items out of the landfill.

In our home, we spend New Years Day first transferring the calendar, and then we move into the kitchen where we go through all of our cabinets and take a good inventory of what is in each of them.  For things we have a lot of, we make an effort to use some of it up in the next few months.  For things we will need to purchase we put them on our master shopping list.  While we are in the kitchen we also try to find items which make good donations to our local food pantry.  For instance, if I have been getting great buys on soup and have 30 cans of it, I will usually give half to our local food pantry and keep the rest to cover us for the rest of winter.    On addition to some of the suggestions above, it is always a good idea to look at the New Year as a time of renewal and a time when you can make changes to your life.  However, rather than having lofty resolutions which you cannot keep, start small and make goals to change things over the next year or even longer.  By making realistic goals you can change the things in your life that you choose to.  

Katrina Lorin is a writer for UniformHaven.com which offers dickies scrubs, dickies scrubs discount and lab coats as well as a host of other products.