Late Bloomer Blog

I don’t usually get serious here. But I can’t pass this story up. File this in the ”What the heck?” file.

Sunday, August 25 Tharrin Gartrell    was stopped by police in Auarora, Colorado after the truck he was driving, was seen swerving by police.  Police visited Gartrell’s two male and one female friend.  Police discovered in the group’s  possession: rifles (one with a scope), walkie talkies, a bullet proof vest, bullets and meth.

Police later went to a hotel where one  companion, Shawn Robert Adolf broke an ankle jumping from the 6th story window.  Adolf had a swatztica tatoo and a handcuff key.  Creepy!

When questioned, another member of the group, Nathan Johnson  said he couldn’t say whether the group planned to act as assassins or not. 

Appaently the authorities agree. The group may face gun charges at a later date. Confused? Me too. Outraged? Yeh, me too. 

“We’re absolutely confident there is no credible threat to the candidate, the Democratic National Convention, or the people of Colorado,” U.S. Attorney Troy Eid said in a statement.

People on the radio are reporting about having seen observers  who’ve been hit with battons by cops for asking why protestors  were being arrested.  I’ve never heard that a protestor had a gun. Why the harsh treatment? 

“The capability and their opportunity and what they had for their weaponry — I don’t see that they would have been able to carry it out,” said another  official on condition of anonymity because the investigation is ongoing.

These guys had methamphetamine  and guns. What else do they need?  Something’s fishy here.  If you get a chance to see the photos of these guys, look away. Their eyes look like pure evil.

And this popular blog www.ideasandrevolution.net makes an interesting point.  Having a reason to live, working towards a goal, wouldn’t this make your life meaningful? Yet looks at the sad faces on these three.

Follow me outside. I’ll run a red light and start a high speed car chase. Let’s see how kindly I get treated.

I graduated high school in 1976 with average grades. I spent more time doing chores like Cinderella, than I did on homework.  Sometimes I liked school. It was a good way to get out of laundry and ironing.  Yes, Paris, we invented permanent press and still we ironed in 1970s.

ALL my decisions were made for me, so when I graduated I made a liberating announcement. ”I’m taking a year off before I go to college,” I said.

To which my Mom screamed, “The hell you are!”

Truth was I didn’t really need a break from school as I’d only studied during the last semester as a way to test myself.  I wanted to see what kind of grades I could pull. Well, I got a 4.0 GPA and realized how really stupid I had been. I wasted my high school years.

At 17 years old, I enrolled at Gavilan  College and took up Journalism (Humanities Dept.) as I had done in high school.  Not yet recovered from my days at a Catholic school, college was an ever bigger  shock than high school! 

It seems that the law let kids drive alone at 16. Most of my friends drove to school. I did too. The students had their own parking lot that was open all day. 

Gavilan was on the quarter system.  A full load was 16 units of courses that lasted 12 weeks.  www.gavilan.edu.

The only teacher at Gav who nagged students was the Journalism advisor, Mr. Funk. I really miss that man. Actually, I’m a little older now than he was then. Talk about a depressing thought! Funk had to be on our backs. If you didn’t turn in your story, the school paper didn’t come out.  The fact that other teachers didn’t care about what you did with your time was such a shocker. You could miss class and hang out on the lawn. Nobody said anything. If a high schooler cuts a class, the entire faculty makes a remark as they pass by.

But then it’s the law that a student must graduate from high school. Plus, college  students are expected to  be more mature.  You don’t feel like you’re being watched at College. If you hang out on the lawn to tan during class, the faculty doesn’t make remarks as they pass by like they do in high school. 

Colleges don’t have “set” lunch schedules like high schools. Your friends might only have classes at night and you might go in the morning. Chances are with schedules like these, you will do more eating at home.

We had bookstores and soda, candy machines, etc. Cheese burgers were still big. Cokes and Slurpees were big. But pizza places didn’t sell their food on campus. There wasn’t prepared commercial foods available. The “student center” workers prepared all the food. 

PE was changed that decade to only a two-quarter requirement. When I went to high school, co-ed PE was just starting. College’s had bookstores but they weren’t associated with that damn Barnes and Noble. It’s seems foolish now that I had a fit when my Art History book cost $40. WOW! Last year my USED Business Law book cost me over $120!  I don’t remember so many tutors and actual that was offically offered at Gav as I see now at West Valley. 

 Our book store had Playboy! Can you beleive that?

One trend today that’s fantastic is that the night and weekend class schedule is beefed up. And of  course we didn’t have on line classes back then. I’m telling you, if you need to be a full-time student, if you have a job or a family, the best thing is to take some on line classes. 

Technology has made college much easier. I don’t remember knowing a teacher’s phone number back then. I don’t remember teachers being so friendly like they are now.  I mean they weren’t mean but they didn’t hand out their phone numbers. 

If you wanted a book from the school’s library, you needed to go there. Today you log on to the website and put the book on hold. You can check your grades and schedule online too.  The point is that, yes, we had telephones. But it seemed that when I needed help from the school, I just hopped in my car and drove the ten miles.  Yeh, gas was cheaper.  

Now I’m  talking to disciplined people here.  Online classses are not easy like some people think. Tons of reading is assigned by a deadline.  But you pick the time of day.Tests are timed and here’s where the rubber meets the road. If you don’t know the answers, you don’t have time to search a 2390 page Business Law book. Trust me.        

I took two Geography classes on line (Physical and Social), Business Law, English Comp 2, Sociology and a slew more. Homework is due once a week. Don’t turn it in and you get a “0.”  

I think colleges today have more clubs and activities for the students and that’s great.  When I was young and bopping around in platforms, I never heard a student call a teacher by their first name. I can’t  bring myself to do it today.  Just doesn’t sound right.  

Let it Grow

Girls then were wearing the little baby doll dresses or peasant tops. Ethnic was starting to be popular. We loved gypsy, flowing, gauzy fabrics. Remember Stevie Nicks? She was huge. Every girl wanted to be her.  Shag hairstyles were everywhere along with the longer version,  a  “gypsy.” I don’t know why we loved that word!  But thank God we invented the blow dryer back then. Finally we were able to smooth out curly or wavy hair. 

The USA didn’t have so many trading partners then. You had to go the one import store on Stevens Creek, pray at the salvation army store, or the one Chinese store in Valley Fair. I was lucky enough to own one embroidered muslin shirt from Mexico. Everyone wanted to know where that shirt came from.  

Forget the cool clothes for a minute. We didn’t walk around with wires hanging out of our ears. We didn’t have cell phones, I-pods and laptops or computers. Nobody had printers in their homes but you could use the one in the library.  We weren’t hooked up to music 24/7 so we had to endure noises we didn’t like.    If you didn’t have a car and you missed the bus, you’d have to pay a dime or 25 cents and find a phone booth.

One bad thing we did, or that I did, was hitchhike. I never told my Mother. Just walking out the front door was enough to make her faint. But I stopped when a guy picked me up and talked about the hitch hiker who’d just had her arms hacked off.  

Today I attend www.westvalley.edu. I enjoy and value school much more than I ever did.  And thank God there are still great teachers and that my  hitching days are over.

• BUS DRIVER: Give me directions that say, “Go left,” and I’ll go right. Eventually I will find my way to the destination and all will be well. But the next time I go to that same place, I’ll make that same right turn that was wrong the first time.  Two wrongs never make a right! At least I’m consistent in my stupidity. I’ll drive all the passengers crazy by the time those big doors swing open!
  

  Get on board!

• COUNSELOR FOR HEART-BROKEN TEENS: No, I won’t be cruel, but I’d have a tough time lying.  After I’m done spewing out the facts of the heartbreak that awaits them in  adulthood,  those teens will be really depressed. Hey you thought your life sucked now? Just wait. It gets ugly. It gets expensive. And a court room and lawyers are usually involved.    Mend your broken heart so you can endure the real BS baby!
• DOG WASHER: My favorite dog is quiet, doesn’t jump, doesn’t poop and always smells clean.  Another important canine trait would include the ability to feed his/herself. Did I mention that I don’t like the sound of barking? Guess you could say I’m truly a cat person.

Doggy Uppers!

•  PAPARAZZI: Paris forgot her panties? Don’t call me. I don’t care! Break my leg climbing a tree to get a shot of maybe-a-Lindsay-Lohan-look-a-like  putting oil on some guy’s back?  I don’t give a heck.   She could wax him and his dog. All over.     

 Gee, I’m obviously such a natural for so many careers. I’ve used up all my time and will need to finish later.  

• SWIM COACH:  Had my high swim initiated  at swim test policy, I would not have graduate. Thank God, all I had to do was get across the pool anyway possible.   And thank God, I didn’t have to look good doing it!  I had my own private pool for 10 years. I threatened to learn to swim and buy a dozen swimsuits when I did.  Just empty words. Don’t look to me at the beach if you need help. I will just throw you a beach ball.  

Ok, so it’s a boring afternoon. Oops! Did I say  boring? I never say “boring.”

Rather than write my stories, work on my site, clean my house  or do laundry, I’m tooling around WWW.WORDPRESS.COM. And then it dawns on me: unless I can get my cat to smile while cooking a cheese burger or do something I don’t understand with a Chinese penguin  in some  such  anime thing…..I’ll never get any hits on WWW.WORDPRESS.COM. 

Well, you’ve seen plenty of photos of my cats. And yeah, they’re lazy and no help with anything that doesn’t involve coating everything in a 20-mile radius with a generous layer of kitty fur.  Pardon me, would you like a side of kitty fur with that peanut butter and jelly sandwich?

Grape-y Goodness!

Plus, if you’ve read of any of my posts you know that I’m just barely getting over my fear of pigeons and low-flying birds. So that’s a ‘no-go’ too.

Tag, you

Finally,  I dragged my Mom out of the house for something that didn’t involve purse shopping, Sears or Macy’s. Our outing was supposed to involve me taking photos of the charming house with the porch sign that I recently wrote about. Unfortunately, there were only cuss words involved when I returned home to discover that the camera crapped out. No photos whatsoever!

Almost a week has passed since I posted to this blog.  Oh great! Here comes my daughter’s cat. Basher  is a very cute, Tuxedo kitty. But he’s such a lover. An hour of hugging is not enough for this guy.  Sit at the keyboard and he’ll shove his head into your hands. Slimey spit and all shedding fur. Black, you can’t miss it.

Sitting on your lap doesn’t cut it. Petting him for 30 minutes doesn’t cut it. Walk around after a long “petting” session and he’ll bash his body right into your legs.  I think this cat weighs 20 lbs. No joke!

Sweet Little Basher!

We got Basher two years ago when we answered a newspaper ad. As soon as he was the right age, we took him to the vet’s for the shots and kitty surgery. This guy’s beautiful, I’d love to see his kids. But they’d just be too annoying!

But I know he wouldn’t take care of them.  He’s all about the fun. You know the type of guy; stays out late, real party animal tries who tries to impress all the girls.

Shhh! Don’t tell the neighborhood cats this,  but Basher is a Mama’s Boy all the way.   

Two years ago Britt heard that  black kitties have difficult lives. Black kitties are the last ones left at shelters. Some people pick up black cats to torture at Halloween. The vet told us that many of these cats get dumped when the holiday ends.

These sad stories led Britt to decide that from now on all of her cats will be black.      

So besides, the kittie’s on my mind, I’ve been working hard to get my paper out. I put a bid on a used HP large format printer on Ebay. It’s a good deal.  I can’t send out 8 by 11 inch sheets forever.

Also, for the last few days I’ve been formating the print version of the paper. Not having decent software is sure making this a rough job!

Maybe that will come next…..MS Publisher….I’ll just wish real hard and hope  an unopened version of MS Publisher falls from the sky right into my yard…nah! Even I’m not that unrealistic!

Or maybe Basher will bring one home from a late night visit at a girlfriend’s!Better than the rats and birds I usually get.

You know those  sayings, “A stranger is just someone you haven’t met yet” and the other old time standard,  ”You can never have too many friends”?

Well, I’ve been pondering this last saying a lot lately and realized that I haven’t made a new friend in a year and a half. (Hi Christy!) Acquaintances are one thing; people you know from work or school. Friends are people who invite to their house and know your secrets. 

I’ve always had tons of acquaintances; people who know my name and with whom I chit chat on a casual level.

But friends, I’ve never more than a few at a time.  And I’m no John Mc Caine. I don’t walk into a soccer stadium and assume everyone there loves me.  Between work and school, I realy can’t even find the time to feel lonely or bored. 

Tonight I took a walk around my neighborhood on my usual route, right past a cute green house. As many times as I’ve strolled by, I’ve never seen any inhabitants. The yard is always nicely kept.  Someone hangs a wood sign from the roof of the porch that gets changed for a different sign about once a month.  

Don’t get me wrong. I’m no stalker. I love houses and decorating. Years ago before I went back to work I was happy to be a housewife. Actually, I was married to my house and kids. Fun for me either involved playing with my kids or painting the living room walls.

Outside my house, fun involved looking at homes seeing how other people get creative.    

So anyway, these signs feature hand painted sayings that are optimistic and upbeat.  I’ve often thought that the lady of that house must be an interesting, warm hearted person.  Maybe even a little off beat too.

Standing on a ladder to hang a freshly painted sign outside my house, sounds exactly like something I’d do. Kind’a  reminds me of the 100 year old     door I angled in a corner of my pink living room, the  dried statice I hang by a ribbon  from the ceiling or   the vintage wood hangers and clothing I display on walls.   

But I don’t know. Do I dare knock upon a stranger’s door and ramble about dried flowers and my suspiscion of our similar good will towards men? 

Can I run fast enough to hide my embarrassment if she calls her husband or dog? Of what if she stands silently frozen in a state of shock? I might just die….

Send me your comments. I’d like to hear from you. What would you do? Have you ever been in a similar situation? If you acted upon an off beat curiosity, did it work out well?      

Keep your comments less than 200 words and I may post them here. Thanks!

Everybody has bad days. Why not me?

Day before yesterday my rant centered on the price of candy. Yesterday it was a rant on how our school system, especially here in California is falling apart. And today I’m depressed about the fact that I am falling apart.

Me on a Bad Day!

Such a foul dark cloud is over my head as I write. Hope this post will have some clarity.   

Kids! Let me be an example of HOW NOT TO LIVE YOUR LIFE!  Who am I to give advice, you ask. Well, I am a late bloomer that’s who I am. Plus, I’m a real slow learner. 

Here we go… when I was young I gave up  my goal. Barbara Walters was big then. I was going to be her and know meet all the important people. I was going to uncover all the important news. 

But at 21 I got married and my goal changed to that of creating the perfect family. A noble goal. Just not always workable and often a bit of a pipe dream. Maybe I picked up my Mom’s goal.  

And you want to know something funny? I wasn’t able to attain that goal either. All I did was recreate the nightmare that was my childhood.

People with low self-esteem pick partners who are abusive, verbaly or physicially. Eventually they may get sick of it all and leave. But the truth is, unless they were tied and bound and shoved down the aisle, the choice was theirs to make.  

At 40, I found myself getting married for the third time. God! I swore I’d never do that.   The fiance was everything I never had. He listened when I talked. Told everyone how proud he was of me. Complimented me. Didn’t feel threatened that I had my own interests. Plus, he always put the toilet seat down.  Really, people were jealous of us!

Only Cost $1 Per Curl

In and out of bridal stores, I ranted, “I must be the oldest bride in captivity. I must be insane.”  I put this thought, and the other reacurring one that  “he MIGHT REALLY be too good to be true,”  right out of my head.  So I managed the trip down the aisle as the oldest bride with the longest hair in captivity.

Fifteen months pass and we have the regular ups and downs of any newlywed couple. How could I NOT have been wildly in love? The man built me a flower garden and pulled open the curtain for me to see. 

“Look honey,” he proclaimed, “a beautiful woman like  you should only look at beautiful things every day.”

Isn’t your heart just melting???  Well, stop it! Because it was all a ruse!

Get a Napkin!

Then it’s December 2001. The day was clear, no rain. Moderate temperatures. My daughter Marianne, was driving home when she had a freak accident. She was 18 and had learned her tough lessons. Her life was back on track with two jobs and her return to school. 

Marianne

Shut up!

Cuckoo!

Nickel n

Ok. Time to quit trifling with the sugary sweet topics and get down to business.

Lock up your valuables.

News has it that that my daughter’s high school has put in place a  new Fall 2008 policy: The privilege of using a locker now costs $5. 

Way back in the 1970s, my high had a policy of refundable deposits for combination locks to be used on lockers. But you had a choice to bring your own lock.

Now the educational system is nickel and diming our kids.    

Adults like to eat cookies in groups.

My daughter’s boyfriend had surgery today. And I took her to the 7-Eleven to get him a little something. His mother wouldn’t let him have it. But that’s besides the point.

When we reach the counter my daughter plops down six Tootsie Roll lollipops and I reach for my wallet.   My eyes pop open. Who knew that lollipops now cost a quarter? Not me. A quarter!

I can’t remember Tootsie Roll lollipops cost when I was a kid. Maybe a dime. Two for a quarter I guess. Fine, ok. So I’m an old lady and yes, things were cheaper when I grew up in the 1960s. A lot cheaper. I haven’t been hip on candy prices for the past five years.  

How do kids get candy these days? It’s too expensive. They can’t earn candy money from paper routes. Nobody subscribes anymore. 

When I was a kid if I asked my Mom for a quarter for a lollipop she’d probably say, “Get a job.”

I mean a quarter   has inside it, an entire 25 pennies. Twenty-five cents is a lot of money. For a quarter you could buy….a phone call? No, last phone booth I saw wanted seventy-five cents.            

Donuts cost two or three quarters, so forget them. Same thing for a can of soda. A pack of chewing gum costs more than a quarter…hmm…seems a quarter buys nothing these days. Except lollipops.

Oh, getting back to what I said about my Mother. I think I lost my head for a minute. My Mom has an incurable sweet tooth and it drives me crazy. When I was a kid, if I didn’t want candy, she would be shocked and beg me to  pick out a candy. Still does, even today.

The woman can’t eat dinner without tasting a treat afterwards. I mean like three minutes afterwards. Cookies, donuts, candy or Skittles. Do you know that a big bag of Skittles is $7 ? Yeh, seven-dollars!     

An expensive sin.

My Mom will stand in the cookie aisle and beg me to pick some.

“No thanks. I don’t want cookies, ” I say.

“But you have to like cookies,” she says. “Everyone likes cookies.”

“Well I’m trying to lose weight and I can pass on cookies.” 

“But there’s all kinds here,” she says. “And I don’t want to feel selfish when I eat them.”

“Why would you feel selfish?” I don’t understand something: Kids like to eat sweets alone. But they grow up and need to consume the junk in groups?

When we leave the store it continues. She’ll put the cookies in a cupboard and announce where they are located.

“That’s okay,” I say, “I won’t eat any.”

“But everyone eats cookies,” she says.

Didn’t we go through this already?

Pearl Library Makeover 2008

It would be impossible to figure out how many hours I’ve spent there with my kids.  Santa Teresa Library used to have a better Childrens’ section but it was further away so we spent more time here. Not that kids seemed to  notice.  When it was time to leave Pearl, I could not tare them away from the rocking chair! You’d think that chair was a Disneyland ride.       

Now, I finally know what I’m missed by never attending a library opening.  Anyone who thinks that reading is a dead hobby, is sadly mistaken. The first people I met on my way through the library driveway were four police officers who said that they’ve been a regular fixture to library opeinings ever since a nasty episode that an argument and a childrens’ movie.  

I’m inclined to believe this because I watched gobs of people running to the library from the street and not watching traffic. Did someone say they were giving away gold?

Window Art by Lynn Goodpasture

If I had to count, I’d say that 300 people participated. Entertainment came in the form of a drum team that showed up from Morgan Hill. Later there were speeches.   Nancy Pyle left before the event got underway.

Once we went inside we viewed the teen room, childrens’ area and coke machines. Who ever heard of drinks in a library?

I can’ believe it!. This library got all new books!  Where did the old books go, you ask? Oh, they went to the Almaden Libary! Seems fair to me since, the Almaden Library has a community center, a workout room and whatever else I can’t remember. We won’t even talk about the extra 50 parking spaces that Almaden is lucky enough to claim.