Play it Again #4: 'You Got This..."

First posted in July of 2015

                                      You Got This

Some slang words, like "cool", seem to hang around for generations. They simply work... or... no one has come up with a better choice that will work as well. Other words pass through the vernacular quickly -- sort of "run their course" and never make it into the urban dictionary or any dictionary for that matter. It works the same for phrases.  One phrase that I have been hearing for a while now and that I really like is "You got this".  I can only speculate as to its origin.  Maybe it is a derivative of "I get it" but going a step further somehow. But anyway, it works for me ... is somehow reassuring.... If someone says "You got this", it means that they feel that you are totally capable of handling whatever "it" is.  How nice.  I guess you could say "I got this" as well to convey that you will get it done, whatever "it" is.  It is confidence building either way.

Then again there are those temporarily popular words and phrases that have a short shelf life and most often we are glad about that. I mean ... it is hard to take a mature adult seriously when the word "rad" is spoken with a straight face. The current use of the phrase "on fleek" is particularly annoying to me.  I am hoping this one goes its own way very soon.

I have to tell you though, there are a few phrases that I never or rarely found the opportunity to use, but that still strike me funny years after their popularity has diminished.  Do you remember... 

• Gag me with a spoon (Actually I think I may have used that one once or twice.)
• All that and a bag of chips
• Talk to the hand (That is obnoxious to be sure... but still funny somehow.)

Language is so odd; it changes and evolves along with us.  Did you know, for instance, that in the 1920's the slang word "bimbo" was used to refer to a tough guy?   Just sayin'.... Odd as it may be, our ever-changing language does the best job that it can.  It comes in handy. For example...  Are you enjoying a few of the many difficult challenges of "getting older" or of life in general? Read carefully and "listen" to my words .... You got this. 

Play it again #3: " A Bond Among Strangers

Recently I noticed  that a lot of people were waving at me as I drove down the road.  You know how dark windshields are these days -- you can only see the hand waving and not the face?  I was a little confused. Why so many waves?  I checked to see that my tailgate was closed and then --  thought about it and decided that people were waving at my new vehicle thinking that I was someone else.  That was it for sure. There are a lot of vehicles like mine out there.  Then I noticed that it was only other Jeep Wrangler drivers who were waving at me.  What?  I mentioned this phenomenon to my cool/with-it daughter,  who suggested that it could be similar to how motorcyclists "wave" to each other -- a sort of comradery.  I wondered.  So -- I "hit" Google as I often do nowadays when confronted with some new thing, term, happening, etc. (I want to at least try to keep up with things.  I even know someone who has ordered an Apple Watch.)

This is what I found. According to several sources, including the Urban Dictionary, there is something called The Jeep Wave.  Jeep Talk even has an official "Guide to The Jeep Wave" which goes into humorous detail in delineating:

• the variety of acceptable waves
• the hierarchy of Jeeps, including a myriad of sub-categories
• the rules of the waving process
• the various explanations as to the origin of the wave

Jeep Talk has even assigned a point value to individual Jeeps based on age, experience, equipment, modifications, and my personal favorite -- battle scars, including scars on the driver that "Must be Jeep-related" in order to count (proof may be required).  Of all Jeeps, Wranglers of any vintage rank the highest -- of course. The older and more banged up the better -- apparently. There are even Jeep Wave Stickers and Decals available on E-bay and Amazon. I even saw one type of Jeep Wave in a Jeep TV commercial recently.  It's a whole other world out there that I am just now discovering.  

I wanted to share this information and experience with my daughter, son-in-law, and smart/cute grandkids, so last Saturday, we all piled into the Wrangler and headed to Duran's Farm Store on the "low" road between Waterford and Erie, PA.  We encountered several Wranglers and several Jeep waves as my son-in-law was driving/trying out my new vehicle.  We really "got into" the whole experience. Given our location,  I could not help but think that if Jeeps had been around in the Waterford/Fort Le Boeuf area during colonial times, George Washington would have had one for sure in which to cross French Creek on his way to deliver that message to the French.  Anyway -- it was fun.  Then -- when my daughter was driving on the way home, two of the Wranglers we met did not wave.  Oh no!  Either they didn't have "with it" drivers -- or -- were just not in a friendly mood -- or....  let's face it - sometimes 4-door Wranglers, like mine, are met with disdain by older, more well-used 2-door Wranglers. There is a hierarchy to be sure.  Plus -- I keep the doors on and take my Wrangler through a car wash. For sure --there are the "too conservative" (scaredy-cat) and the "too clean"  factors to consider also.  Notwithstanding the hierarchy,  I have to admit that we all heartily booed the non-wavers.  As a follow-up mention  -- my son-in-law shared with me the next day that he was totally snubbed earlier that morning when he sheepishly waved at a Wrangler --  from his Subaru. It's not an equal playing field, I guess.

Point of interest -- along with bikers, who have their own wave and protocol, I read that Mini Cooper drivers also have their own wave. What fun is this?  In times that sometimes seem harsh and cold, there are total strangers reaching out to one another to say a fun hello.  It's a bond among strangers for sure.  I am thinking that we need more fun things like this.   

Play it again #2: Stranger on the Porch

I am thinking that some city folks might not find this believable, but life on the edge of a pasture and woods can sometimes be very exciting.  I personally have had a couple of close encounters with bear with whom I share my blackberry patches, and one time a couple of baby bobcats took shelter on one of my porch chair cushions -- which were never quite the same after their stop over. Of course white-tailed deer pass through at least twice a day -- sometimes in large groups. We often chat in a manner of speaking. I talk; they appear to listen attentively. However -- the evening I am going to tell you about was a whole new kind of experience. 

It began during a winter storm, cold and windy... winter bleakness in general. It had been gray all day and almost totally dark out since about 4 PM.  If you live in NW PA, you know what I am talking about. Anyway -- I was enjoying dinner with my grandkids and daughter when we saw a strange creature "flying" through the yard. It was larger than a cat, thinner than a bear cub... very stringy looking. Unfortunately their dog, the Lovely Luna, was outside, and, as she has a tendency to bring all sorts of unusual things home, we were not surprised to find both her and her new mangy-looking acquaintance on my back porch. The two of them were making a tremendous amount of noise that sounded none too friendly as I am sure you can imagine. The grandkids ran into the laundry room with their dinner as -- naturally --it was way more fun to be scared in there than at the kitchen table.  My daughter managed to get her beast safely inside, but the mystery creature remained on the porch. Did I mention that it was about 12 degrees outside and this poor animal was not looking at all well?  

Now -- from previous experience with an ailing coyote, I have found that whenever a wild animal lands on your back porch, it's not a good thing. It was time to take action or ... to stay inside until Spring.

I tried to call the game warden for my township. No luck.
I called my neighbor who said to call the State Police. Helpful.
I called the State Police and they gave me a phone number for a game commission office that is about 60 miles from here. Not really what I wanted.

So we did what we should have done in the first place. My daughter called her brother-in-law who is a man we are all glad we know because in addition to being really nice, he can do anything, fix anything and is almost totally self-sufficient other than he doesn't build his own trucks from scratch - yet. He is a bit of a survivalist and therefore has appropriate weaponry. He came immediately - just had to finish feeding his chickens first.  His was an amazing entrance. The man fills a doorway. He arrived dressed in his usual camouflage and carrying a blowgun that is taller than I am at almost 5'3".  Oh how I wish I had taken a photograph so that I could have shared his appearance with you. This guy is about 6'5" tall in his stocking feet, but add large winter boots and a fur hat that resembles a full sized beaver -- and he is most impressive. With his hair almost to his waist and his significant beard, let me say he makes the Duck Dynasty bunch look wimpy.  Anyway - that stranger on my back porch took one look at him and vacated the premises.... hopefully never to be seen again. The blowgun was totally unnecessary. 

What surprises me in retrospect is that the kids were afraid of this small animal (probably a fox) and not at all affected by their uncle who resembled, on this occasion - an enlarged and scary Ewok.  I tell you what -- you would not want to run into him unexpectedly on your back porch.  No offense intended... honest.  He is my hero.    

Play it again, Sam

 

I am taking a bit of a break from writing this weekly blog because I need to catch up on some things for the next month or so. The most important of these is time with family. The "out of towners" arrive tomorrow. Fun times! That said -- for the next few weeks "blogwise", I am going to repost some of the more popular blogs since its beginning in 2014.  From Pencil Box to Keyboard has been viewed over 25,000 times now. With readers mostly from the US, but also from Canada, Europe, Scandinavia, South America, and, surprisingly to me, from Russia which, I just recently relearned, is part in Europe and part in Asia. It fun to see where in the world people are accessing my rambles. It is also fun to see which blogs, for whatever reason, have been the most read. Lucky for me, BlogSpot, which hosts my blog, keeps track of all the stats. 

That being said, here is "Play it again... #1"

                                    Purring Grandma

Recently I was chatting with a good friend of mine.  She was telling me about time spent with her Mom during the previous week..  They had spent several days together planning and working on a project. ( I was exhausted just listening to all that they had accomplished.) Anyway --  at one point her Mom, who is a young 88, sat down, put her feet up, closed her eyes and shortly thereafter began to purr softly. (That whole scenario makes me smile.)  My friend found this to be amazing and wonderful at the same time.  The thing that surprised her was not just the purring, but that her Mom actually stopped to take a bit of a nap.  Now I personally don't find the desire to take a bit of a nap at all surprising.  In fact I find it hard to believe that there are people who never nap and seem to take great pride in the fact that they don't.. I do believe them when the say they don't even feel the need, but I still find it necessary to "suspend my disbelief", if you know what I mean. Anyway -- I decided to take an informal poll.  I discovered that many people, including a random sampling at the local Walmart as well as of some of my friends, highly recommend napping on a regular basis. There are those who use strong terms like "power nap". Others just mumble as if napping needs to be a confession of some sort.   Actually there are many terms that people use in reference to napping.  It is sort of like areas of the country that have twenty-seven different words for snow. The more important the subject, the more words to describe it.  I was talking with my  three-year-old granddaughter just the other day about the importance and benefits of napping. As I was looking at her and gabbing away, she closed her eyes and tipped over on me sound asleep. I guess she doesn't need to be convinced. She is, after all, a fourth generation "napper". As I watched her sleep the sleep of a three year old, I wished that she too did a little soft purring. There is something so nice about that.  

Another brief list...

 

Sometimes I have a hard time thinking of an idea about which to write, and when that happens, I sometimes make lists of questions for which I want answers or of ideas I don’t understand.  That being said, and since we are so close to a big holiday and all I want to do is goof around, I am going to write down a list of a few things I don’t understand completely or about which I am thinking.  You know – from a Boomer’s point of view – not that Boomers all think alike, because for sure we do not.  How boring it would be if we did. Right?

So first of all, I don’t understand the word meta.  If meta refers to ”when something refers back to or is about itself, like a book about books or a meme about memes”, then why did Mark Zuckerberg rename Facebook "Meta"? Hopefully there is another meaning or.. it seems Zuckerberg is saying that everyone of Facebook is about one's own face or about him or herself alone and that isn't my experience on that platform. Some research is required.  But then also…  how does "metaverse" fit in with all of this? Further... how do Snap Chat, Twitter, Rumble, and Instagram, etc. actually work? Do I need to know this? I find it all as confusing as Bitcoin.

Along similar lines, why is a podcast called a podcast?  I get the cast part, but not the pod.  Moving on....

Who is making the most money by continuing to generate and fan the fears of global warming, and/or another global pandemic?  What kind of a person is it who is all about control of others? It must be lonely to have no friends.

Why is it that some people have no concept of safe and unsafe places in the world? Why is it that some people have no concept of stupid?

Why is it that the pronouns he and she are no longer enough and why can they not be used in gender-fluid situations? Further – what exactly does gender-fluid mean? There is a whole language in this realm -- all totally new to me and which I do not understand. 

On a related matter – why is it that no matter how hard I try, I cannot always remember what letters come after LGB? Honestly -- I don’t think about it a lot, but I know it matters to many people, and think I should be able to rattle off all the letters fluently like the "talking heads" do and better yet -- maybe even know what they mean. It is PRIDE month after all. That I do know.

Finally -- is television on the way out? 

This particular list now at an end – hopefully I will put together a better blog for next week. Or perhaps I will take a vacation.  In the meantime, Happy 4^th!  Celebrate America! It is the land of the free where diversity and tolerance count. Right? Now that is worthy of celebration. We need to hang on to those values. We need a break from intolerance, hatred and violence.   All of us.  

Again... wishing you a peaceful and happy Independence Day. Celebrate that on this day in 1776, the Declaration of Independence established for the first time in world history a new nation based on, among other things, the rule of law, specific unalienable rights, limited government, and equality. Thankful here to live in a United States of America founded on these principles. I wish you safe and happy celebration.

Is this party to whom I am speaking?

  

Sometimes I find myself thinking about all the amazing things my grandmothers observed in their lifetimes.  They went from horse and buggy to supersonic transport.  They went from outhouses to indoor plumbing, from washboards and clothes lines to automatic washers and dryers.  Impressive, right?  Oh, what would they think of today’s online shopping, take-out food and the availability of things in general? Almost forgot -- permanent press! The list could go on and on.

Then, for some unknown reason I skip over my parents’ generation to mine (they do overlap a bit after all) and realize that we, too, have made remarkable progress - lived through significant change.  Radio sort of evolved into those little round televisions able to get three staticky channels if you put enough aluminum foil on the rabbit ears and turned them the right way (my Uncle had one) … and our lives changed forever.  Technology went "feral" after that ... and we know where we are today -- caught within that blur. Also, let's not forget automobiles.... What happened to manual transmission, window vents and floor dimmer switches? Remember when we had rotary phones and dialed “0” for an Operator - a real person you could talk with? “One ringy-dingy... two ringy-dingy...." (Ernestine)  

Sometimes I feel that it is impossible to catch up with how fast the world is changing and so I don't even try and find myself using phrases like "phone photo" which makes total sense to a person who grew up with a Brownie in the family.  Kids these days would roll their eyes at that – actually I have seen some of them do that and have heard of other savvy young who have done that as well. (Love them anyway.)  “Why not just call it a photo, Nana?”  ("… because it is a phone photo; that’s why." There is a difference. Boomers understand this. Some day these kids will too when they are dealing with some "newfangled" invention.)

I guess each generation just has to deal with its own progress.  I wonder what it will be like for my grandchildren and on. I mean – what about the possibilities of Artificial Intelligence, vehicles that drive themselves or don't touch the ground... all sorts of “Meet George Jetson” things. Then there are the inventions that haven’t even been thought of yet. It's exhausting....  Each generation seems to be getting smarter and it is not just them who think so.

Actually, I am not going to give their future too much thought.  They will handle the changes.  Each generation has or has tired to ... or at least has managed to cope in some way.   Right now, I am just trying to figure out how to make a smooth transition from cable to streaming, from a skillet to an air-fryer, from a landline to a cell phone.  You know – from a pencil box to a keyboard.  Some days I do pretty well.  Other days?  Not so much. Plus – there is plenty of technology that I have decided to totally ignore.  I am okay with that … at least for now.  Come to think of it though -- I felt that way about microwave ovens, the Internet, online banking, and texting at one time and changed my mind about them, so… who knows? One thing I can say for certain -- you will not see me on a hoverboard. Call me chicken.  I will readily agree... no shame in that one. I fall well enough just using my own two feet. Did that yesterday as a matter of fact.  It was impressive -- especially the trying to get up gracefully part. Anyway -- call me old-fashioned... or maybe just plain getting old.  Either way -- both are okay with me.

 

I Will Remember

Fifty-five years ago when nearing high school graduation day, as chairman of the class gift committee, I approached the high school principal to get a suggestion as to what the class might leave to the school with our left-over funds.  You know -- maybe we could purchase a flag for the auditorium or provide a bit of landscaping outside.  Well... he looked me right in the eye and told me, in no uncertain terms, that the school was taking our left-over money and adding it to the general fund -- that the school did not want to remember our class. He went on to say that he had 21 diplomas on his desk that he was thinking of withholding." (He also took away our class outing.) It was stunning. He was usually such a kind man in red socks.  Not sure what I said in response (probably nothing), or how I reacted (other than shock), but ... the memory of his anger has stuck with me. I find the whole thing somehow amusing in retrospect, because I grew up with those people the school didn't want to remember. I was one of them, and I always have wanted to remember them. Still do. People you grow up with are special - shared memories are just one bond of many.

Looking back at the whole situation -- there was the organized "gathering" of the official signs of rival schools and a recurring "relocation" of the cannon in the city park ... both inconvenient to those adults supervising the youth of the time ... but nothing harmful or damaging really. (Well some of those school signs and perhaps a rather large concrete statue of a guardian lion somehow found their way inside the school and did scratch a counter, but that was "fixed" by a local factory owner. It seems that the owner of that company happened to have a son who may have been involved in that episode. Then again later on -- there was the lassoing of a car on Main Street that involved members of the Class of '67 on both sides of the issue -- culprit and police officer ... but I digress....  People of the Class of "67 know all about this.  It is a bond we share really. Just one of them.) 

For the most part though -- our class went on to good/important things.  Many went on in various branches of the military to protect our country. One made the ultimate sacrifice in Viet Nam. Others went to work in local factories or on nearby farms, or continued their studies for one thing or another.  Many married and had families. To be sure some had struggles. As my mom used to say, "We all have our own bag of rocks."  For the most part though - normal stuff really. Times of hardship, times of triumph. Life is like that... a variety of challenges and successes. Sadness and happiness.  Anyway -- talented in a huge variety of areas -- interesting people all. 

See the thing is -- I just spent a large part of last weekend with some of the remarkable people of the Class of '67 during the events of our 55th reunion.  As I moved throughout the gatherings, I heard many memories of our years together - some sort of scary and many that might have been/probably were a bit of a challenge to authority, but the class of '67 has a special place in my heart for sure. The weekend was a gift of laughter and of poignant moments. I am thankful to know these people and to have known them. I enjoyed spending time with them. I remember our growing up years.  I always will. Special people, special times.