Saturday, February 21, 2009

Women, Men, and other nonsense



I recently read the following quote about the wonder of a woman on a fellow blogger's site. I laughed about it several times during the week, and retold the joke. I thought I'd share it here, and offer my own answer as a male.

You should find it funny, even if it is somewhat shallow and sexist. This post is just for fun, so enjoy!

"Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater.
If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.
If you give her a house, she'll give you a home.
If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.
She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.

So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit."















Here's my addition on the male:

Men are complex.
Whatever you give a man, he may improve it, or not.

If you give him a baby, he may give you a family,
or he may give it back (and run).
If you give him a home, he may give you protection,
or he may just give you a lot of laundry, dishes, and undone chores.
If you give him a meal, he may give you his heart,
or he may give you a lot of complaints.
If you give him a smile, he may give you one back,
or he may give you his unwanted “affection.”

He plays mix and match with whatever you give him.

So, if you give him any crap, you really don’t know what you’ll get:
maybe you’ll get his attention (briefly),
or maybe you'll get a load of “alone time” (temporary or permanent).

Men are complex.


Thursday, February 19, 2009

Decisions, decisions, decisions...



Today I woke up with three issues begging for resolution.

My issues involved: car maintenance, job duties, and social responsibilities. Any of these sound familiar?

I had three varied problem areas… What was I to do?



I decided to take a few minutes to put my thoughts to paper.

Next, I reviewed my list of personal affirmations. I wondered if my affirmations would help me see my way to make some clear decisions.

I was able to easily match two of the three issues with an affirmation.



For the third one, I asked myself the question, “What would make me feel good about myself in making this decision?”

After asking the question, I could see how the remaining issue did fall under the influence of another affirmation.



As I weighed my choices in view of my affirmations and values, I could see my way clearly on what my course of decision and action should be in each case. Whew!

I feel better already!

(10 hours later…)



Two of the three morning solutions lasted through the day, but an unplanned visit from a district supervisor led to an option better than I had conceived for number three!

The Universe conspired to improve my plan, and I was ready for it!



A set of clearly stated goals/affirmation that are in keeping with core values apparently provide a good compass when navigating the sea of life! Who knew?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Exhausted venues...

Today’s post is short: Two pictures and a little commentary.

Here’s the first picture:













Here’s the second picture:







Both photos were taken from the roof of a hotel in downtown San Diego. I was taking advantage of the free continental breakfast, and I was taking some pictures for this blog and my enjoyment.

It was a bit cold, and it started to sprinkle. I looked around and said to myself, “I think I’ve about exhausted this venue.”

I was taking one last look at the rainbow before leaving, and then it happened: an airplane flew by.

San Diego’s airport is right downtown and the planes fly low. It took another five minutes standing in a light rain for me to capture it, but if you click on the second picture there’s a surprise, just to the right of the rainbow.

There’s often more to a place than you think. (And I’ve found the same is true of people. They know stuff. They see stuff. And sometimes, they laugh.)

Have a great day. See if you can find the hidden treasures of your “exhausted venues."





Here’s the second picture:





Both photos were taken from the roof of a hotel in downtown San Diego. I was taking advantage of the free continental breakfast, and I was taking some pictures for this blog and my enjoyment.

It was a bit cold, and it started to sprinkle. I looked around and said to myself, “I think I’ve about exhausted this venue.”

I was taking one last look at the rainbow before leaving, and then it happened: an airplane flew by.

San Diego’s airport is right downtown and the planes fly low. It took another five minutes standing in a light rain for me to capture it, but if you click on the second picture there’s a surprise, just to the right of the rainbow.

There’s often more to a place than you think. (And I’ve found the same is true of people. They know stuff. They see stuff. And sometimes, they laugh.)

Have a great day. See if you can find the hidden treasures of your "exhausted venues."

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Up on the rooftop... eight-year-olds pause...

Life is tough when you're only eight. Third grade is hard. I was glad to be in San Diego with my dad. It was rainy, but we were having fun. He even took me up on the roof of the hotel.




He said I could play with his camera if I kept the cord around my wrist, so I did.

This was my first shot: I was next to this tall glass table.






The view from the top of the building was cool, so I took a picture of some chairs. Wouldn't it be fun to sit down and look out?










Maybe I'll get a bit closer to the chairs for a better view.







Rats! The chairs are wet, and anyway, my dad...







Hey! Where's dad?

Over there by the lamp post? No.















That's when the light went on, and I remembered...











...Dad said he'd be right back with donuts and milk from the sky kitchen.

Whew. I was worried there for a second. Now I see him...


(Today I nothing to say, so I started with a batch of pictures, created a character, and played "what if," just for the fun of it! Thanks pictures!)

Monday, February 16, 2009

When students lie...




One thing most teachers hate is being lied to. Worse than being lied to is being lied to repeatedly. Worse than that is the student who sticks by his/her lies.

Back in May of '96 I was disappointed by such a student.

Perhaps one good thing to come out of the occasion was some insight and a poem (which I discovered today in an old folder):


A String of Lies


When I first discovered his lie,
I thought backward:
When had today's lies begun?

He said,

Teacher, I have to pee.
I have to pee real bad.
I couldn't use that restroom: the floor was wet.
I couldn't use that bathroom: I just couldn't pee.
Okay, I did use that bathroom, the second time I tried: I peed.

I thought,

He had to go so bad that it took him three tries in two different bathrooms?

And then he met the girl.
And then they made goodbyes.
And then he returned to class… until the summons came.

Well, he stuck to his lies from first to last, even with the vice-principal.

Oh, maybe he didn't kiss the girl in the hall afterward.
Oh, maybe it was just a hug.
One maybe, in a string of lies.

No admission of anything of course, and certainly no remorse.
One honest eye-witness but many denials.
A forced apology: soul-less and insincere.


When I first discovered his lie, (Three tries to pee?)
I thought backwards:
When had his lies begun?

Before today, I'd guess.
Before me, I thought.
And that helped.

And then I thought forward,
When will his lies stop?
When will the truth begin?

Or will it?
With me?
With whom?

And then I thought,
Does he believe his lies?
Does he see the string?
Does he care?

Well, wherever he goes: there he'll be.
Creating a string.
A string of lies…
And broken trust.

Until he sees.
Until he cares.
Until?



Sunday, February 15, 2009

Lincoln's condolences... Anyway




Some years back I came across a copy of a letter signed by then President, Abraham Lincoln. It is a letter of condolence to a mother who Lincoln believed had lost five sons in the Civil War.

One of the most difficult situations I’ve encountered is finding something appropriate to say to someone in great distress, especially one who has been bereaved. Lincoln’s letter stands out as a model of care, compassion, and vulnerability. Read it and marvel:

Executive Mansion,
Washington, Nov. 21, 1864.
Dear Madam,--
I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle.
I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save.

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
Yours, very sincerely and respectfully,
A. Lincoln





As I was searching for a copy of this letter for this post, I discovered some irony.

"In the fall of 1864, Massachusetts Governor John A. Andrew wrote to President Lincoln asking him to express condolences to Mrs. Lydia Bixby, a widow who was believed to have lost five sons during the Civil War. Lincoln's letter to her was printed by the Boston Evening Transcript. Later it was revealed that only two of Mrs. Bixby's five sons died in battle (Charles and Oliver). One deserted the army, one was honorably discharged, and another deserted or died a prisoner of war.

The authorship of the letter has been debated by scholars, some of whom believe it was written instead by John Hay, one of Lincoln's White House secretaries.

The original letter was destroyed by Mrs. Bixby, who was a Confederate sympathizer and disliked President Lincoln.

Copies of an early forgery have been circulating for many years, causing many people to believe they have the original letter."



Especially ironic to me was the fact that Mrs. Bixby rejected the offer of condolences: she destroyed the letter.

But that’s what I like about Lincoln and his example. He did the right thing, the noble thing, and left the consequences with another. Honest Abe was his nickname. He was caring and forthright, but that didn’t always fly.

What endured is not the rejection, but the act of kindness that was offered.

I’ll end this post with the words from a poem which hung on a wall in one of Mother Theresa’s missions, an orphanage in Calcutta:

Anyway…


People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight.
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis
it is between you and God;
it was never between you and them anyway.



A comment in another blog notes:

"This poem – Anyway – was not written by Mother Theresa, the Dalai Lama or Nelson Mandella – all of whom have been credited with the writing of this poem. It was written by a young Harvard student in the late 1940’s, when he was a contributor to the campus newspaper. This fact was researched by Reader’s Digest – and the copy of the campus newspaper can still be accessed. At last report, the (now) old gentleman resides in Hawaii – where he’s seen his poem travel all around the world at least once a generation since he graduated. He would have been quite content to be its anonymous author, had a real journalist – one who actually checks facts and sources – not come along." (The poem was written by Kent M. Keith, a Harvard student, when he was 19.)