Immediate members of my own Family fit into these groups.
Still.
Una Voz
Asian Americans Pacific Islanders For Obama
Family
The Lesser of Us
Picture this:
You buy a car or an electrical appliance and it comes with this warning label:
This product is perfectly safe- HOWEVER there is an outside chance it could- for no reason burst into flames and kill you. Buy it anyway though because the chances are very small it will happen TO YOU.
So now we must ask for the health and safety of anyone who eats beef: Have the actions of some people who like to torture animals on their way to the slaughter house and this mega industry endangered at least ONE of us?
Consider it:
They’ve slapped a warning label on every piece of beef processed at their plant and they tell YOU not to worry because it probably won’t effect YOU.
Oh sure, I’m so glad to know that – now I’m ready to go out and eat a big juicy steak or burger because:
what they did could have endangered my friends or family.
BUT NOT ME!
You jerks.
The video of how they treated those animals have put me off beef for the rest of my life- and this comment alone sealed the deal:
“On the one hand, I’m glad that the recall is taking place. On the other, it’s somewhat disturbing, given that obviously much of this food has already been eaten,” said Jean Halloran, director of food policy initiatives at Consumers Union. “It’s really closing the barn door after the cows left.”
Entire story HERE
How funny.
This is funny too-it will be a cold day in Hell before I ever buy beef again and serve it to my friends and family.
Ha Ha ha.
Turning
Today my friend sent me a note.
He said that his son
is a Father now.
My Friend, who was one of my closest friends when I was growing up
is now a Grandfather.
Oh Wow.
Does that mean we’re not kids anymore?
Bring It On
Nobody on this planet
knows psychological warfare like my
Parents.
When I was a kid and my Parents used to argue
and it was clear no one was giving in
this is how they called a winner.
The first one to convince the other
that they could get to a store
first
and buy me this toy
before the other one
and get it into my hands
WON.
No.
I never did get the toy.
Darn It.
WHEN IN ROME DON’T DO WHAT THE ROMANS DO UNLESS YOU’RE A ROMAN
Yesterday my family were sitting around the old Christmas Tree, eating the Candy, finishing off the turkey and telling stories with Christmas Music playing in the background- all that was missing was Tiny Tim asking God to Bless us all.
But that old fashioned Christmas feeling was sort of shot to the North Pole on a Yule Log because at least four of my family members were sending text messages to their friends.
I choose my victim- which thank you Baby Jesus was my little Brother-and I start giving him a hard time about being a slave to his Phone and he says how he’s just starting to get the hang of this text messaging thing so he has to practice.
It’s like learning another language, he tells me, and if you don’t practice you could really embarrass yourself like he did a few months ago
when….
” You know what happened when I started this text thing Cheeto La Frito? ( that’s his nickname for me) I couldn’t get those letters right. It was weird I’d get these letters all strung together that made no sense so I wouldn’t answer. I even took my phone back because I thought something was wrong with it.”
” Anyway, I was dating this girl and we were supposed to meet for dinner and I’m at the restaurant when she sends me this text message that her Grandmother had died.
Well, I couldn’t think of anything to write back so I just sent her my love. “
” And….”
” Well, I thought I’d use the new lingo and typed in my love. “
” Uh-huh.”
” Lots of it.”
” I should hope so.” I told him.
” So I texted back LOL.”
OMG.
I hope your Christmas was just as fun(nny)
amm
On The Twelfth Day
All Sales Are Final
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming,
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree!
For serveral years I believed my family Christmas Gatherings on the whole were trauma and drama free- or so I thought until I decided to write my own version of ” The Twelve Days of Christmas”.
And then I started to remember things like the time I went on a bike ride in the snow covered with Chicken Pox. And how on another Christmas I convinced my little Sister ( let’s see she was about five at the time) we found her floating in Greenlake in a basket just like Baby Moses and how if Santa found out he was probably going to take her presents to her real house so she shouldn’t count on getting anything at MY family’s house that Christmas.
Oh and there that Christmas Eve I hid all of my brother’s socks and underwear- we were older at the time – like 19 and 18 or something. But watching him toss a hissy fit over a bunch of lost underwear was worth all the threats of bodily harm my Mom was threatening to do to me if I didn’t give his stuff back right now That Christmas Eve is one of my most precious memories.
No it did not send him into counseling- at least I don’t think so.
And of course there was that time when I was about 13 when my dog Sham -who was this giant Malamute snatched the turkey off the counter where it was cooling and after I got it back from him me and my brother and sister had to put it back together because we tore it almost in half when we pulled it out of Sham’s jaws.
Talk about team work- not only did get that thing put back together we did it without our parents knowing- which of course probably isn’t the case at all but what the hey- it was probably the quietest the three of us had been since our Christmas Vacation from school had started a week before.
My parents were into ‘be grateful for small blessings’ mindset.
Let’s see- oh sure, there was that other time I took all of the chocolate covered cherries and drained the juice out of them- and for the rest of the night everyone complained about ‘that box of defective Cherry Cordials’ and how only OUR family could be unlucky enough to get it.
That box of candy still represents our family as the Underdog Champs of the world.
And then there was that year me and my brothers and sister and cousins performed a concert for our families.
We stood on the stairs just like the kids in the Brady Bunch and song meaningful heartfelt songs like Working On A Chain Gang, Teen Angel and my own personal favorite Goodnight Irene.
That ‘ concert and the songs were my idea- and if there was ever a Kodak moment in the history of photography the look on all of those faces as they watched us sing by the glow of the Christmas Tree was one of them.
So honest- there wasn’t a lot of trauma or drama and looking back on it you could have done worse then us – given how many of us there were and how all of us were so different from each other ( okay and the rest of the human race ) all of these things could have been the stuff of holiday disasters.
But they weren’t.
We always had a good time and I’ll bet that after reading this a few people will be awfully glad they’ve got the families they have.
So.
We All Win.
Merry Christmas
December 24, 2007
So on this Eve of Christmas I started to think about:
My childhood friends- gone from this life- who used to call up on Christmas and ask if it would be okay for them to come over and how my Mom or Dad or one of my other relatives would snatch the phone away from me and say to them, ” if you weren’t busy asking stupid questions you could be here by now.”
I thought about my Grandparents and my Aunts who left us but not before they taught me to be brave and kind and creative – and to never be afraid to speak up.
And I thought about my sweet cat Wolfgang- aka Insanity Jones- whose confidence in me to take care of him and to be his friend never left him- I saw it in his eyes when he died.
I thought about how I could easily sit here and just grieve over all of these losses on a night that’s about gathering together to celebrate life and hope.
And in the end I knew I couldn’t do that because
what they all gave to me, nothing can ever take away.
Remember that.
I always will.
Merry Christmas
amm
On The Eleventh Day
Things Start To Get A Little Too Quiet
On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
My favorite part of Christmas wasn’t the presents or the food or even the free Sideshow that my family and friends provided that I in turn have shamelessy used in my writing years later
My family and friends are in ALL of my stories.
Anyway.
The best part was when we’d turn off most of the house lights, light some candles sit around the lit Christmas Tree and do the only thing you could do after a hard day of eating and drinking and making Merry.
We’d tell stories.
Everyone had a chance to tell a story- no matter how old or young – you got a chance to have the floor and tell stories like that one about that time when….
My Grandfather Saw The Ghost Lady
One of my Grandfathers was a dark haired Englishman and the other was a dark haired Filipino man and they both shared a similar experience.
They both saw the same woman at the same time- and they were living on opposite sides of the world.
So, in your minds eye picture my English Grandfather driving his 1940 Ford Coupe- his dark hair slicked back and wearing a snazzy suit- down the unlit rural streets of a town just outside of Seattle.
It’s a cold night because it’s Christmas Eve and it had started to snow a little that afternoon and the roads were icy and dangerous but that was fine with the dashing handsome man with my laugh that would one day become my Grandfather because he’s a good driver and he has no intention of not showing up at his family’s house in time for Christmas Dinner.
And somewhere in the Canefields on the big Island of Hawaii my other Grandfather- a dark handsome man with jet black hair and my eyes- is driving something called a Willy’s Jeep- through the dark fields towards his home along the bluff of the Waipio Valley where his family is waiting for him to bring home the treats for their Christmas Party.
And as they almost reach their homes they each see standing on the side of the road- a woman.
Her hair is white and her eyes are green .
She’s wearing a black dress and her hair is pulled back and she’s wearing rings on all of her fingers.
Each of them pulls up to the side of the road and asks the woman if she needs help.
” No” she tells them. ” I just need a ride.”
” To where ” they ask.
She leans in and whispers, ” Why, I want to go to wherever it is you’re going.”
Both of them don’t like her- they don’t like the way her hand rests on the hoods of their car, they don’t like the way she sounds, they don’t like the way she seems very sure she’s going to get what she wants.
” You can’t come with me. ” they tell her.
The Woman slams her palm down and the Car and the Jeep tilt a little to the left and she says, ” I go where I want- do you hear me? And what I want is for you to let me in!”
Both of my Grandfathers start to pull away and that’s when they look down and see that the hem of the woman’s dress is floating a little above the ground- where her feet should be.
But weren’t.
When they looked backup into her face she was smiling.
” I travel these roads but I don’t walk them.”
Did she tell you how she traveled them? I asked over 30 years later.
Neither man answered me.
Their story always ended with them driving off and the Ghost Lady being pulled back into the trees at the side of the road or the canfields by the shadows.
I think she did answer and in the end when they died I think they won- whatever that Ghost Lady said, whatever curse or threat she made- got left on those roads years ago.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they had let her in, would I be here to tell you this story?
I could answer it if you like…or you could leave it here on the side of the road.
The choice is yours.
Happy Holidays
from
amm
On The Tenth Day
All Sharp Objects Will Be Confiscated At The Door
On the tenth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
Who has an allergy attack during the dead of winter- when there is snow on the ground and nothing has blossomed or bloomed- in months?
Why me of course.
I was always coming down with something either on Christmas Eve (mumps age 6) or Christmas Day (chicken pox age 10). That’s to say nothing of the sprained ankles from falling out of trees and sliding off roof tops (hey, if you can figure out how to get around on those things when they’re covered with ice and snow feel free to share it with the rest of us) around Thanksgiving.
So just before Christmas at age 28 I’m in my kitchen making a snack for my kids and their cousins were visiting for the afternoon.
I had decided on apple slices and caramel dip.
I’m a great fan of this caramel sauce that you can dip fruit into and I was perfectly willing to bust into my secret stash because I figured if the kids were eating this caramel and apple snack they wouldn’t be able to talk and I could have a little peace and quiet.
Actually, at this point in the day I would have settled for one or the other.
Anyway, I was slicing up the apple when I sneezed- and then my eyes started to itch and I started sneezing some more and couldn’t stop. It came on so fast that I never even had the chance to turn my head.
So I ended up sneezing all over the apple slices
Brother.
I look around, take the cutting board with the apples slices on it and rinse it under the faucet- and while the water is running I decided to take an allergy pill.
When I’m done I turn around with the cutting board and nearly walk into one of the little cousins who tell me, ” My Mom says I’m not allowed to eat the skin off the apples. So you have to cut it off.”
” Why? ” I ask.
” Because it’s easy for kids to choke on apple skins.”
I’ll be darned- ” I did not know that. ” I told him.
” It’s true so you HAVE to cut off the skin.”
And he starts to dance around my kitchen chanting ‘ cut off the skin.’
Well he’s making so much noise that the other kids rush into the kitchen and before I know it I have this mob of 6-8 year old boys waving their arms around and chanting ‘ cut off the skin, cut off the skin’
It was about then that the allergy medicine kicked in- it was this stuff that you could get from the doctor that didn’t make you sleepy the way allergy medicine did. One of the more interesting ( but rare ) side effects was that it could jack your heart rate up enough to make your teeth rattle and that’s what it did to me.
So I was a little distracted and that’s probably why the knife slipped while I was peeling the apple skin and I sliced open my finger from my palm all the way to the tip.
I held my hand up and blood just sort of poured from my hand all the way down my arm to my elbow. Look, I was a mortician I wasn’t used to seeing active bleeding so I held my hand up, looked into the cut and determined I was in trouble.
But who was in the next room playing video games and had just come back from his final first aid classes that very morning?
A family member- a family member who knew what to do with actual bleeding…and lots of it- he had shown us the certificate to prove it.
I sent one of the kids to get their Uncle and he walked out took one look at my cut and his eyes rolled up into his head and he fainted.
He didn’t just faint he whacked his head but good on the kitchen counter before he hit the floor and that kathunk noise he made?
That wasn’t good.
You know what else isn’t good?
Having your family pull up to your house where their kids are and there’s a fire truck an aid car and an ambulance all lined up just waiting to do their duty.
One of my family members rushes in and wants to know what happened and I hold up my finger.
” All of this for that?” she asks.
Just then they wheel my Hero out on the stretcher and his head is encased in this brace that looks like a big yellow block with blue Velcro straps.
I knew he was pretending to be unconscious when they went by.
All I can think to say is ” I got the turkey in.” I point to the oven.
” Plus she cut the skin off our apples because you can choke to death on that you know.” says one of the kids.
From this crowd of people my Sister asks slowly, ” did you stuff the turkey with that? ” she points to my finger.
” No I used my feet. “
The silence was deafening
I had to drive myself to the hospital.
Only 3 more days until I reach
The Inner Circle of Hell
CHRISTMAS.
On The Ninth Day
We Are Not Amused
On the ninth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
When I was 9 and my Sister was 6 my ‘job’ was to walk up to the Recreation Pavilion and bring her home from Ballet Class.
Sometimes I’d get their early and I’d sit in the back of the room with an ice cream cone and a black eye or an Eskimo Pie and bruised shins or a Nestle Crunch Ice Cream bar and a sprained ankle and wait for class to be over.
Most of the time I was wearing my soccer Uniform- complete with muddy cleats.
My Sister’s Dance lessons my practice day never took place on the same day- I just liked that look the Dance Teacher had on her face when I walked in.
I know what you’re thinking- but I didn’t mind watching the kids dance because they were tiny and funny looking – what I really hated was the Dance Teacher.
When she talked she’d lift her chin up so you could practically see straight up into her nostrils and for some reason wherever I was standing or whatever I was doing she’d be right there digging her little fingers into my shoulders and asking me to move.
Well one day I show up and all the little Ballet Kids are out of their minds with excitement because they’re going to be in a recital and they get to wear costumes-
I asked my Sister what they were going to do and she said something about Lakes and Butterflies.
” You know butterflies die during the winter. ” I told my sister.
It was December, so I figured my point was valid.
” Not at Swan Lake ” she says.
” Even there.”
My sister’s teacher comes by and hands me a list of materials that my Mom needs to get for my Sister’s costume and she tells me to make sure my Mom gets this list…. my Sister needs to be ready blah, blah, blah and when she’s done talking I ask what they’re going to be dancing and sure enough it’s Swan Lake.
Swan Lake with butterflies.
I asked, wouldn’t it be more fun if the little kids got to be ducks instead? You know, fluffy yellow chubby little baby ducks.
At least Ducks sounded like they belonged in a Dance about Swans I pointed out
” I want to be a Butterfly! ” my Sister says and a few other very concerned butterflies start to drift in our direction.
” There aren’t any butterflies at Swan Lake “
” There are now.” my Sister says- and she actually stamped her foot.
Right on top of mine.
I looked up at her Teacher and thought- you’re going to pay for that.
A few weeks later I go to get my Sister and I went early because it was their first dress rehearsal.
There were a lot of excited Parents- their daughters were about to become Ballerinas.
Oh boy.
And then they started the Dance.
I started laughing- I couldn’t help it because it was mostly the teacher and some of the older kids who got to dance.
All the kids in my sisters class sort of come out of nowhere in their little butterfly costumes and followed the big kids around in this rainbow conga line and then they danced off stage.
My sister was thrilled.
I was not thrilled.
My sister practiced those steps over and over- in the line at the supermarket, during recess at school (where she not only insisted I watch her, but all of my friends too) in front of the TV when I trying to watch it and everytime I put on a record she’d start her butterfly dance and you know- by then- this entire butterfly things was making me a little crazy.
She was only six and practicing her little legs off and that was it?
All that work so she could follow some junior high girls around and then sit for the next million hours watching them?
I had even heard that these girls were expecting to get flowers and their pictures taken- and what about the little butterflies? Especially the one I was living with?
Nothing.
Zilch.
What a rip off I thought to myself…what a cheat.
My sister says, ” You’re going to go, right? “
Like I had a choice.
” You’re going to stay and watch the whole thing, right? “
Oh brother.
And then she finished off with, ” don’t you think it’s great?”
” No. You know what would make it great?” I shout.
” No.” My Sister says- and by no she’s not asking the question she’s really telling me to shut up.
” Belly Dancers. ” I said at the tops of my lungs. ” Just like the ones in ‘ I Dream of Jeannie’
A few of the Dads nodded at each other and there were a few winks being dropped here an there so I saddled up and went to town.
Right there in front of a bunch of butterflies I start to Dance just like ” Jeannie” in the opening credits of my friend Janet’s favorite TV show. Me and Janet practiced those little moves everytime we watched the show and they rolled the opening credits.
We even ended the dance with this big eye blinking thing that ” Jeannie ” did after she popped back into her bottle
I was pretty good, if I don’t say so myself.
My Sister sort of shrugs and starts dancing around with me and then we start singing the theme song and when the other little butterflies and even some of the big girls joined in the Teacher smacks her hands together and makes them stop.
And then she looks straight at me and then points to the door.
So with my hands above my head I shimmy to the door and out to the hallway.
The teacher followed me and she nearly cut me in half when she slammed the door shut behind me.
But before she did I heard a little chorus of butterflies ask hopefully, ” Teacher, were there Belly Dancers at Swan Lake?”
Only 4 more days until I reach
The Inner Circle of Hell
CHRISTMAS.
Irregular Bones 