Category: Life

S*** happens

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Spiritual Quotient

I encountered the following article while scanning the news Monday morning, 13 Types of Intelligence (Which Ones Are You?), The fact that they found 13 types of intelligence peaked my curiosity enough to cause me to click the bait.  I knew about IQ, Intelligence Quotient, being blessed to be somewhere on the right side of that famous bell curve. I knew about EQ, Emotional Quotient, mainly because one of my former intimate partners once shoved a cassette tape (yeah, that long ago) into my face (well my hands) telling me that I needed to listen to it as I had an EQ…wait for it… of zero.

I am not sure I agree with their thesis that there are so many different types of intelligence. However, of the 13 types of intelligence listed in the article the one that captured my attention the most was, Continue reading “Spiritual Quotient”

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Drag Queens in Chesterfield

Looking at the local news online this morning, this story – of course, from the local FOX news outlet – was leading the pack : ‘A Drag Queen Christmas’ show sparks heated protest in Chesterfield.

I thought for a minute that a tornado must have grabbed the whole town I live in, Chesterfield, Missouri, and dumped it in Oklahoma while I slept.  But no, we’re still here.  I had to remind myself that I live in Missouri and in the particularly onerous 2nd district, the district which has given us such Republican notables as Todd “Legitimate Rape” Akin and Ann “What Climate Change” Wagner.

Since the protesters stated that the drag queens were slapping God Continue reading “Drag Queens in Chesterfield”

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Kudos to Missouri American Water

Friday evening along about 1900 hours a neighbor called my wife reporting that we had a new water fountain in our front yard, but in all likelihood it was not going to make her happy. Sure enough she was right on both accounts.  About six or seven feet in from the sidewalk towards our house was an impressive gusher of water. From the volume and force I was reasonably sure it was a water main break of the line that transverses across our front yard, but I had a vague fear it was not, that it might be our service line.  I began to have visions of dollar bills flowing out of our bank account quicker than from the hands of a drunken sailor on his first shore leave in six months.

If I had thought a minute longer I would called the water company, but my first impulse was to call Continue reading “Kudos to Missouri American Water”

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Purgatory?

My troubles are many, they’re as deep as a well
I can swear there ain’t no heaven but I pray there ain’t no hell
Swear there ain’t no heaven and pray there ain’t no hell,
But I’ll never know by living, only my dying will tell,
Only my dying will tell, yeah, only my dying will tell
And when I die and when I’m gone,
There’ll be one child born and a world to carry on, to carry on

The above snippet of lyrics is from the Blood, Sweat & Tears song, And When I Die, a song that reached number 2 on the charts in 1968.

For many reasons the line, “I can swear there ain’t no heaven but I pray there ain’t no hell” has stuck Continue reading “Purgatory?”

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Restaurant Red Flags

What triggered this post was an article about a TikTok video posted by a health inspector… somewhere too far north.  I read the article, but I passed on the video.  However, the link to both is at the bottom of this post. Enjoy.

In 1983 my ex-spouse had found a job in Arkansas and I was living in Tulsa, by gawd, Oklahoma.  Deciding I needed to be in Arkansas also meant I needed a job.  A position as a County Sanitarian (Health Inspector) Continue reading “Restaurant Red Flags”

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Corn on the cob

This morning I had a session of Spanish conversation practice with a young indigenous woman from Guatemala, Zelaida Guox.  She is currently going to school to become a teacher.   She had on a pair earrings that were small plastic corn cobs, maize – corn – being very important in the cultures of Mexico and Central America.

We talked about her earrings for a bit, then she asked me if we eat corn here. Claro que sí, señorita… But of course we do, corn on the cob being a very typical food of summer. I then went on to describe how we tend to soak our corn on the cob in butter.  She thought this a little strange. She then described how they commonly eat corn on the cob in Guatemala.  One way is that they squeeze lemon juice, followed by salt, followed by squeezing lime juice on the cob.  Or they put ketchup (salsa dulce) on their corn on the cob or sometimes mayonnaise.  I had heard the mayonnaise addition before, and I am betting it is very good.

Something different to try next time you have one of the emblematic foods of summer.

And so it goes.

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Cultural Differences, the US Dollar, Ecuador

I have been visiting with a young lady, Micaela Vallejo, from Ecuador every two weeks for over three years for conversational practice using Spanish. She is a little north of 30. How far I do not remember.  She is unmarried, a fact I find remarkable given all she has going for her, but she seems quite content with her status. Micaela lives in Coca, a small town of around 45,000 souls in the northeast corner of Ecuador, close to the border with Colombia.  It is located in the Amazonian rain forest at the confluence of two large rivers and a smaller third. According to the web and Micaela Continue reading “Cultural Differences, the US Dollar, Ecuador”

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The Cookie Jar

  We visited some friends this weekend in Chicago, well one of the northwest suburbs of Chicago.  Despite the frigid temperatures, we had a great time. In their dining room, on the sideboard, is this cookie jar, brazenly inscribed with the eighth commandment, “Thou shall not steal.”

I bring this up as it reminded me of a story I posted about ten years ago that I am going to recycle with some small revisions. Enjoy.

Once upon a time, back in the day, when my kidrens were still knee-high to the proverbial grasshopper, my arm could still be twisted to get me to attend Sunday church services. My son, David, must have been around 4 which would have put my daughter, Keely, at 8. We were living in Oklahoma City, attending  a Baptist church fairly regularly. Sporadically, before the main sermon, the preacher would have a children’s story. In the front of the church was a low stage with steps leading up to the pulpit. He would sit at the front of this stage and ask the children of the congregation to gather around him.

This particular Sunday he did that, made his invitation to the children, and off rushed our two kids. I do not remember exactly what the story was about, but it did involve a cookie jar and the partaking of the contents unauthorized.

The preacher looked at Keely and asked her, “Do y’all have a cookie jar at your house?”

To which she replied, “No.” Then she brightly added, “No, but we have a cookie bowl and Mommy hides it from Daddy as he gets into it all the time.”

The whole church burst out into laughter and turned to see me slinking down in my pew.

And so it went back in the “day”.

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Door Hangers

The last several times I have stayed at a hotel/motel for a duration of more than one day, housekeeping has not come into the room  to straighten it and make the bed.  It does not seem to matter what hotel chain or their level of service.  I attribute this to three causes.  First, during the pandemic these chains were super cautious and bragging about their amped up level of cleanliness. It was a way to keep staff safe.  Secondly, after the pandemic Continue reading “Door Hangers”

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An Old Man’s Tonterías

In Victorian times there was a very prescribed dress code, the window of acceptable clothing was fairly narrow.  At least this is the impression I have gathered from the many Victorian novels I have read.  I also received the impression that this applied less to the lower classes than those more socially advantaged.

Even in the first part of the 19th century, the acceptable styles were very much dictated by society.  There is hardly a man without a hat on in pictures from the 20s, 30s and 40s, if they were outside.  Men’s clothing was almost always some dull color.  Women had a little more latitude, but not much.  I was a teenager in the 60s before mother dared Continue reading “An Old Man’s Tonterías”