I love the movie Top Gun. It is one of my favorite movies of all time and I watch it again and again. There is one scene in the movie that makes me insane. It makes me insane again and again. No one else in my family, including the Navy vets, go bonkers when they see this scene. Only me.
For those of you who don't know, the movie is about a Navy pilot (Maverick) and his time at the US Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Training School (Top Gun). During the course of the training, his plane goes into a flat spin, he and his co-pilot (Goose) are forced to eject, and Goose dies.
There is a scene later in the movie where Maverick, in a very emotional tribute to his 'rear', throws Goose's dog tags into the ocean.
THIS SCENE MAKES ME NUTS!
Goose was married. Goose left a widow and, more importantly, a son. Goose's tags should have gone to his son. No one will ever convince me that this is what should have happened. No one will ever convince me that, in the real world, this would have happened.
My daughter's insane moment springs not from a movie, but from a video.
Carrie Underwood sings a song about a marriage that does not take place because the groom, a military man, dies just before the wedding. In this video, the chaplain and the commanding officer show up at her house, in their shiny shoes, to notify her of the death and, at the funeral, she is presented with the flag.
THIS SCENE MAKES HER NUTS!
The men in the shiny shoes do not notify girlfriends, fiancees, shack-ups, live-ins, cohabitants or any other variety of partner. They notify FAMILY. It is irrelevant to the men in the shiny shoes who the deceased wanted notified. They notify family.
So, what is the scene in which movie, video, book, etc. that makes you crazy? Not crazy enough to not watch whatever it is - just crazy every time you watch it.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
A Kinder, if not Gentler, Time
In his acceptance speech August 18, 1988 former President George H. W. Bush commented that he wanted a "kinder, gentler nation." This made him the butt of many jokes but it also served as a reminder of days gone past.
I was reminded of this today. Yesterday, in Amarillo, a 27 year old man lost his life in a head on collision that was not his fault, leaving behind a grieving widow.
This morning, the Amarillo Globe News, only named here in order that you may, if you choose, boycott them, chose as their front page, above the fold picture, photos from the crash scene.
38 years ago, my 26 year old husband was killed in a head on collision that was not his fault, leaving behind a grieving widow and an injured infant.
So, here's the part where I say I know exactly how she feels right? The grieving young widow?
No, I don't. I was never subjected to front page pictures of the wreck. There were no pictures in the paper. My family, God love them, made sure that I never saw pictures of our vehicle after the crash at all or the vehicle itself at the wrecking yard. This kindness, this comfort, this empathy is one of the reasons we never went to court. My family, God love them, thought protecting me from those pictures, was more important than money.
I am not denying the newspaper's right to publish the pictures. The accident, and the death of this young man, are newsworthy and I know that a picture is worth a thousand words. The flip side of that, of course, is that a picture, once seen, cannot be unseen.
I live in a part of the country that prides itself on it's friendliness, it's hospitality, it's downright niceness. Too bad they forgot empathy and kindness today.
I was reminded of this today. Yesterday, in Amarillo, a 27 year old man lost his life in a head on collision that was not his fault, leaving behind a grieving widow.
This morning, the Amarillo Globe News, only named here in order that you may, if you choose, boycott them, chose as their front page, above the fold picture, photos from the crash scene.
38 years ago, my 26 year old husband was killed in a head on collision that was not his fault, leaving behind a grieving widow and an injured infant.
So, here's the part where I say I know exactly how she feels right? The grieving young widow?
No, I don't. I was never subjected to front page pictures of the wreck. There were no pictures in the paper. My family, God love them, made sure that I never saw pictures of our vehicle after the crash at all or the vehicle itself at the wrecking yard. This kindness, this comfort, this empathy is one of the reasons we never went to court. My family, God love them, thought protecting me from those pictures, was more important than money.
I am not denying the newspaper's right to publish the pictures. The accident, and the death of this young man, are newsworthy and I know that a picture is worth a thousand words. The flip side of that, of course, is that a picture, once seen, cannot be unseen.
I live in a part of the country that prides itself on it's friendliness, it's hospitality, it's downright niceness. Too bad they forgot empathy and kindness today.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
CCC
I grew up in northern California. Within driving distance of my house were at least 2 State Parks. Actually, one of them, Samuel P. Taylor State Park, was within biking distance if you and your brother were in the mood and driving distance if you were ditching church. Mt. Tamalpais State Park was even closer, as the crow flies, but much harder to bike to, as it was a horrid climb on very narrow roads. This was before the advent of bike paths.
There were redwoods in these parks and camping facilities and outside amphitheaters and hiking trails with rails and graded steps out of stone. I loved these parks. When I was a teenager, I was convinced that God was in those parks. Now I know He is within me, but I was not so sure back then and I felt closer to Him there.
It never occurred to me wonder about the infrastructure of the parks. I learned later that almost all of the construction done in those parks; the ranger stations, the benches in the amphitheaters, the amphitheaters themselves, the outdoor showers, the concession stands, the trails, the bridges, the trail markers, was done by the Civilian Conservation Corps.
One of our area museums, where Julie and I went with the boy to escape the crowds of Christmas consumerism, currently has an exhibit about the CCC. This exhibit includes lots of memorabilia, including schedules, booklets, clothes and such and a life size model of one of the two man wood floor tents that the guys lived in. On the wall were numerous pictures of local CCC projects. I was astounded to learn that there once was a Hereford State Park. Our golf course pro shop used to be the boat house (we have no lake now) and the local VFW was the concession stand at the park. As soon as I read this, I recognized the architecture and use of local building materials.
I love this Country, for taking a desperate time and situation, and making something so life-affirming and lasting. Unfortunately, a lot of these buildings and bridges are falling into disrepair. Maybe it's time for Congress to take another look at a program that actually worked.
There were redwoods in these parks and camping facilities and outside amphitheaters and hiking trails with rails and graded steps out of stone. I loved these parks. When I was a teenager, I was convinced that God was in those parks. Now I know He is within me, but I was not so sure back then and I felt closer to Him there.
It never occurred to me wonder about the infrastructure of the parks. I learned later that almost all of the construction done in those parks; the ranger stations, the benches in the amphitheaters, the amphitheaters themselves, the outdoor showers, the concession stands, the trails, the bridges, the trail markers, was done by the Civilian Conservation Corps.
One of our area museums, where Julie and I went with the boy to escape the crowds of Christmas consumerism, currently has an exhibit about the CCC. This exhibit includes lots of memorabilia, including schedules, booklets, clothes and such and a life size model of one of the two man wood floor tents that the guys lived in. On the wall were numerous pictures of local CCC projects. I was astounded to learn that there once was a Hereford State Park. Our golf course pro shop used to be the boat house (we have no lake now) and the local VFW was the concession stand at the park. As soon as I read this, I recognized the architecture and use of local building materials.
PPHM 12-20-2012
These pictures were taken at the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum in Canyon, TX. I will be blogging more about other exhibits but this is for Juls, so she'll have her Christmas picture of her with her little man. Merry Christmas, baby!
My two favorite people.
The exhibit he loves best.
This shall be the "before" picture!
Friday, December 21, 2012
Christmas Eve 2012
We are celebrating the family portion of Christmas tomorrow, on the 22nd, so CJ, following family tradition got to open one gift on Christmas eve. I got to pick the gift.
Opening the gift.
You got me dishes?
You got me SOCKS?
There must be something IN the socks. Grandma wouldn't buy me SOCKS!
Socks....Grandma bought me socks. Thank you, Grandma.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree
When I was a very little girl, we always had a real Christmas tree, usually a Douglas fir, because Mom liked the spaces between the boughs. She may have liked the spaces but she HATED the needles.
When I was around 8 or 9, my parents bought an artificial tree, white flocked, with a color wheel which rotated and bathed the tree in red, blue, green, or orange light. On this wonderful tree, Mom hung all maroon bulbs. I don't know why.
Then all of us kids grew up and moved out. The years that we all came home for Christmas, Mom would break out the tree and we all made fun of it. Not very charitable and not very Christmassy but very, very easy to do. It was a terrible tree.
In 1975, Mom bought one of these trees. Vern's wife made it in pottery class. Actually, I'm pretty sure she bought the greenware and glazed it but she made it nonetheless. Vern was a guy who worked with my Dad and the first car I drove after Steve died was a 1960 Cadillac that Mom and Dad bought from Vern for me.
Anyway, this tree lived on top of Mom's TV from the day after Thanksgiving until New Year's Day and, no matter how much we harangued her, this was the tree ever after.
I think I have sort of compromised. I have an artificial tree, but is is a Scottish pine because I like the fullness. It is about 3 feet tall and it sits on a console table that I have because that way the dogs wouldn't knock it over. Looking at it tonight, I think that I may have combined all the trees of my childhood into one. Now all I need is a color wheel!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Charity
I like charity. It used to be a common word. The three cardinal virtues were Faith, Hope, and Charity. Then the word, charity, got a bad reputation and receiving charity hurt people's self-esteem so it was changed to Faith, Hope, and Love.
The words are interchangeable. Charity comes from Love and Love begets Charity.
I was about to type that I had grown up in a very charitable household. Hmmmm. I grew up in a household where money was given to the Church, old clothes were given to the Good Will, old items were given to the Salvation Army and a donation was made to whatever charity requested it, whether it was money or blankets or food.
We were not so charitable to each other. We were not always kind nor loving. I have often thought that if we used our company manners with family, the world would be a more pleasant place. We see a stranger on the street, smile, and say, "Good morning. How are you today?". We see a family member coming in the house and we say, "What's wrong with you?". I'll have to think about this for a while. I do know that as I have gotten older, I am more conscious of the hurt my words can cause. I try to be careful about this, which those of you reading this who were screamed at and yelled at and called horrible, rotten things, know, was not always the case.
Anyway, Charity is a good thing. It is not just giving the food, it is providing training so that someone can be self-sufficient. It is not just giving clothing, it is giving a hug and a smile along with the clothing. It is not just doing charitable things, it is taking along the kids and grandkids so that they, too, can know the joy of giving. It is not just a seasonal thing, either. Believe it or not, people have to eat all year long. They have to pay their bills all year long. They need a hand all year long. They need a smile each and every day.
I am fortunate in so many ways. I grew up Catholic and Catholic Family Services was always there. It is where I went for Lamaze classes when I was pregnant with my oldest child. It is who I called for support when I was pregnant with my 2nd child and going through a bit of a rough patch. It is who helped my daughter find the very loving family that my granddaughter is a part of. But Charity is also not just Catholic - it is catholic.
When I was a very young widow, my sister's boss, who was Jewish (he died in 2011) helped me financially and emotionally. He did not give me money but it was through him that his lawyers handled what needed to be handled. It was through him that his accountants helped me through those first years. It was through him that I bought my first house. He wanted to make sure that it was a good house in a good neighborhood and that it would shelter me and my baby. He brought his daughter along the day we looked at the house. I did not know then, but I do now. He was teaching her Charity.
I see myself now as a charitable person. I hope that is how others see me, too.
The words are interchangeable. Charity comes from Love and Love begets Charity.
I was about to type that I had grown up in a very charitable household. Hmmmm. I grew up in a household where money was given to the Church, old clothes were given to the Good Will, old items were given to the Salvation Army and a donation was made to whatever charity requested it, whether it was money or blankets or food.
We were not so charitable to each other. We were not always kind nor loving. I have often thought that if we used our company manners with family, the world would be a more pleasant place. We see a stranger on the street, smile, and say, "Good morning. How are you today?". We see a family member coming in the house and we say, "What's wrong with you?". I'll have to think about this for a while. I do know that as I have gotten older, I am more conscious of the hurt my words can cause. I try to be careful about this, which those of you reading this who were screamed at and yelled at and called horrible, rotten things, know, was not always the case.
Anyway, Charity is a good thing. It is not just giving the food, it is providing training so that someone can be self-sufficient. It is not just giving clothing, it is giving a hug and a smile along with the clothing. It is not just doing charitable things, it is taking along the kids and grandkids so that they, too, can know the joy of giving. It is not just a seasonal thing, either. Believe it or not, people have to eat all year long. They have to pay their bills all year long. They need a hand all year long. They need a smile each and every day.
I am fortunate in so many ways. I grew up Catholic and Catholic Family Services was always there. It is where I went for Lamaze classes when I was pregnant with my oldest child. It is who I called for support when I was pregnant with my 2nd child and going through a bit of a rough patch. It is who helped my daughter find the very loving family that my granddaughter is a part of. But Charity is also not just Catholic - it is catholic.
When I was a very young widow, my sister's boss, who was Jewish (he died in 2011) helped me financially and emotionally. He did not give me money but it was through him that his lawyers handled what needed to be handled. It was through him that his accountants helped me through those first years. It was through him that I bought my first house. He wanted to make sure that it was a good house in a good neighborhood and that it would shelter me and my baby. He brought his daughter along the day we looked at the house. I did not know then, but I do now. He was teaching her Charity.
I see myself now as a charitable person. I hope that is how others see me, too.
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