The Embarrassment of Being Me

I’m not sure why, but the other day I was thinking about speech impediments. Okay, I know why, Tsunami is having trouble with “S’s”. Not a big deal, but when you are sitting in Tim’s having a coffee you have to talk about something and after a lifetime of living together I will grab whatever topic is available. Louise would just as soon I kept my mouth shut.

I don’t know if it is a problem or not, at two I probably made more sense farting than talking. Hmmmmm…not much has changed. Louise was saying that the kids had some speech problems and I sure as hell did. I kind of feel bad that I may have passed down some bad genes. Hopefully I also passed down my cute and likable genes as well.

When I was little I had trouble with the “TR” sound among other things. I would be walking past a store and get all excited about the big red fuck in the window. “Can I have the red fuck mommy? PLEASE!!! Stevie and I could play with the fuck together.” I imagine that it went on and on till dad picked me up and ran to the car. I never did get that big red truck.

 

When I was in grade school I still had problems with my speech. It turned out that I had a lazy tongue. Truth be told, my whole body was lazy. I guess it wasn’t embarrassing enough that I couldn’t speak properly in class, so I saw the special speech lady once a weak to work on diction. Once every week I would have to leave class and go to a special room to practice talking for an hour or two.

Shhh…shhh…shhh…cou…cou…cou…ttt…ttt…etc.

I was a little kid and the thing I wanted most of all is to fit in. I just wanted to be the same as everyone else. I was kid humiliated. My self esteem dropped another notch of two.

 

One week I went into the speech room and there was the teacher with a big smile on her face and a reel to reel tape recorder beside her. I got to practice my sounds into the recorder and I could play the tape back to see how I did. For those who aren’t old, in the late fifties and early sixties almost no one had a tape recorder. Well, no kids anyways. All of a sudden going to speech therapy was going to be cool! No one else had ever used one! I would be the first!

The euphoria lasted through the “RECORD” and ended when the teacher hit the “PLAY” button. I didn’t know who was on the tape, but it sure wasn’t me. That high pitched, whiny voice belonged to someone else. Someone who was a total goof! Not me!

Sadly, the whiny goof was indeed me. Not only did I have a speech impediment, I had a horrible voice. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent crying in my room. I stopped talking in class, with my friends and pretty much everyone. On top of that, every week I had to go and listen to that whiny, goofy voice. Life wasn’t much fun for a while.

Like everything else, the passage of time helped to dull the embarrassment of being me and I carried on with my life. Eventually I got to the point where I am now, talking too much. I still have a horrible voice and just thinking about it still has a profound impact on me. I suppose I should have gone into voice acting, I have a voice fit for a goofy cartoon character after all. I didn’t because then I would have had to listen to myself on tape…

The J Stands For Jerk

Well, writing everyday seems to be a challenge for me.

It is really easy to put it off and off and off until it is too late. I think I need to develop gumption. I watched a western yesterday which is why I need “gumption”. To be fair, what I need is grit.

I have some ideas for blogs and they would be just wonderful except it is once again too late. Tomorrow, I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die.

I used to say that when I was a kid and I didn’t always keep my word. I should be dead many times over. Thankfully the Great “IS” of the universe wasn’t paying attention at the time so I got a pass. Let’s hope that He/She/It doesn’t read this blog. There are millions of blogs out there and many of them are much more interesting than this one. Surely some of those people crossed their hearts and hoped to die.

Now I should cross my heart and hope to diet. That would work better for me now. Perhaps the Great “IS” would give me a hand losing weight if He/She/It is listening. Just a single finger snap and I could be down fifty or sixty pounds.

Nope! I am just going to hope this blog goes unnoticed by any and all of those all powerful, omnipotent beings that are inhabiting the universe. You’re doing a great job!

However, if one of the minor deities happens to be reading, could you smite Donald J. Trump? He is kind of orange with a bad comb over and believes that he is a minor deity. He isn’t! I think the “J” stands for jerk

Book covers

It has been a long time since I was in grade school, but there are aspects that I can remember quite clearly. I don’t know how things are done now, but back in the day we used the same books in the same grades year after year. Sometimes you would find yourself with a book that an older brother or sister had a year or two previously. Some of the books looked as if they had been in use since confederation.

 

If you were lucky, you would get a book that had been treated with the reverence it deserved and it would be readable without stupid notations in the margins or erased letters so the remaining letters would spell “dirty” words. Good for a laugh, but often pages would be ripped out and you would have to borrow a friends book to see what you missed. Every now and then, a book would get to the point that it was no longer of any use to anyone and have to be replaced. This would result in several editions of textbooks being used in the same class causing the teacher to tell the students with the “blue” book to turn to page 64 and those with the “red” and “purple” covers to turn to page 59. No problem for those students that were paying attention, but some of us spent most of our time watching the world on the other side of the glass. I was forever wondering what the hell was going on and often unable to find any sense in what the teacher was talking about.

I suspect that in this day and age the students all get pristine new textbooks every year or two. The budgets for the school boards are larger and parents demand the absolute best for their tax dollars. I guess the idea is that the newer books have newer, up to date information that an older book doesn’t have. Maybe they are right, but my generation managed to effect social change, put a man on the moon, invent computers and develop the ability to destroy the planet in any number of unpleasant ways. All of that using old, dog eared textbooks.

 

Every year would begin with introductions, essays on how we spent the summer and being handed the various textbooks that we would need. Along with the textbooks we would be given sheets of dust jackets which we would fold on the dotted lines and each and every textbook would get one to protect it from errant pencil marks, food stains and daily wear and tear. Usually they were supplied by a bank, an insurance company or even the textbook publishers. They came with a space to write your name, the class, grade, subject and a place on the back to make notes. I would always fold that stuff on the inside and have a nice blank white cover for all of my subjects. Within a very short time, I would be able to tell which book belonged to which class by the doodles on the covers. Very rarely would the doodles have anything to do with the subject, I wasn’t much of an artist.

Surprisingly, that is one of the things I learned in school that I still use fifty years or more later. I generally just use newspapers to put a protective cover on mine and the libraries books since I don’t have access to insurance company covers. The covers protect the book from coffee stains and oily fingers. I guess not much has changed over time. I also like to use the covers so that my public reading can remain private. 

Kellyanne Conway the Bimbo From Hell

I just watched an interview of Kelly Conway and the interviewer spent ten minutes trying to get her to answer a simple question, unsuccessfully.

This woman who is the mouthpiece for Donald “Dickhead” Trump is some kind of scum. I’m sure she has a coat made from 101 Dalmatian puppies in her closet somewhere. She is the wicked witch from OZ. She sold her soul to the devil and the devil has orange skin and a bad comb over. What some people will do for money.

If Trump is smart (he isn’t) he will hold on to this bitch from hell because no matter what evil he does she will find a way to blame it on Obama, the Democrats or the biased, fake news. I predict that she will have a house dropped on her within two or three months and the little people will dance around singing in joy.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to have her for a mom and have to live with that embarrassment. Her husband is a lawyer, so he has no problem with lies and dealing with scum. Hell, I would just hate to be one of her neighbours. Talk about real estate values dropping.

Thankfully I don’t normally pay too much attention to the news. Now and for the next four years I suppose I will have to stop watching late night talk shows. It might not be as long, depending on how long the impeachment will take. I don’t wish Trump ill, but if someone were to assassinate him I could understand the impulse.

I can’t imagine just how depressed I would be if I lived in the US instead of Canada. 

Unless I Wanted It

This is going to be a short one tonight because I just spent the day with a toddler (Tsunami) and I am beat. I also have to go and pick up Tsunami’s mom and dad at the airport in an hour or so.

So, this is the first day of the new world order and so far so good. Not for everyone of course, but my little corner of the world seems to be doing alright. I suspect that the next four years will be two steps back for every step forwards.

One of the good things is that the people are starting to get organized to protect the rights and privileges that took so long to get in the first place. There was the Women’s March in Washington held today which was supported by like minded people all over the world. There will be many more of these in the coming years. I might just have to dust off my tie-dyed t-shirts, my leather visor, Roots negative heel shoes and I think the old hash pipe is in a tobacco can somewhere in the garage. With any luck grass will be legalized in the next few months and I will be tuned and ready to go.

We just need to have some awesome music to score our protests. It would be nice if the current generation would produce the right music, but if needed then I will dust off my album collection, buy a new needle for the record player and I’ll be in business.

Of course I will have to make allowances for my age. I’ll need to find some healthy munchies a soft cushion for the sit ins, some arthritis medicine so that I will be able to give “the PIGS” the finger. I have never been in jail so that might be fun. There will be regular sex anyways even if it isn’t what I mean by free love.

Maybe I will just donate to some good causes instead. I could bring coffee and donuts to the youngsters who are staging the sit-ins. That way I could be involved and not have anal sex from some neo-Nazi…. Unless I wanted it.

If You Can’t Say anything Nice

I have always believed that if you can’t say anything nice about someone then you shouldn’t say anything at all. I haven’t always adhered to this, but it is the best course of action you can take.

Donald Trump was sworn in as the 45^th president of the United States today ............................................................................………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

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and that’s all I have to say about that!

In My Closet

I just put little Tsunami to bed. Notice that I didn’t mention anything about sleep right now, but I am sure that will come in the fullness of time. She misses her mommy and daddy and there are times when I miss them as well. Just a couple of more days and their family will be reunited.

I read to her, well I tried but when the pages get turned before I was able to focus on more than one word per page it can’t really be called reading. I guess that is toddler speed reading. We went through seven books and I am not sure what any of them were about. I bent down to kiss her good night and somehow thru out my knee. Getting old sucks.

I am just thankful that she isn’t worried about monsters in the closet or under the bed. I was terrified to even hang my foot over the edge of the bed for fear that it would be snapped off and digested in some monsters stomach before I could even scream for help. I suspect that monsters were an approved parenting method in the fifties. Either that or my older brother was the devil incarnate. I’m going with my brother…

 

If Tsunami was afraid of the monsters under the bed or in the closet I would have given her a hug (there goes the other knee) and told her there was nothing to fear because the monster is in Washington tonight plotting the overthrow of democracy.

 

She will wake up to a new world tomorrow. Personally I think it will be a sadder, meaner world, but I hope that I am wrong. I pray that I am wrong. I have always gone to bed comforted in the knowledge that the people running the world were much smarter than I was. Tonight things have changed and a man who panders to the basest human traits will have four years to force his version of truth on the world. It would be nice if we survived.

I don’t mind what happens to me, but I hope that Hurricane, Tornado and Tsunami get to live in a world without fear. The one good thing about He Who Must Not Be Named becoming president is that it will be a wake up call for the voters in four years. They will learn what and who not to vote for.

I hope I am not right and pray that the monsters return to their rightful place under my bed and in my closet not at 1600 Pennsylvania Blvd, Washington, DC.

Tsunami

While mom and dad are in Ottawa on a business trip/vacation for a few days, Louise and I are looking after Tsunami. Should be fun. I think she is still too young to understand that mom and dad aren’t coming and this old guy is all she has to look forward to. We all face disappointment in life and become stronger for it. Of course sometimes we are broken. Tsunami should be fine…

I tend to stress over upcoming events like looking after a two year old. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of how badly I screwed up my own kids. They are fine now that they have been on their own for nearly twenty years. The facial tics have all but disappeared.The bed wetting remains a problem, but adult diapers have come a long way and you wouldn’t even know they are wearing them. Well, except for the smell of course.

I am pretty much beat and am just staying awake because I don’t want to get up too early. Wait a minute. I have a two year old in the house I will be up far too early. I’m going to bed!

A Step Backwards Into the Future

Good morning!

I haven’t written a lot in the past few months. I would like to say that I was too busy with Christmas preparations and before that the Halloween preparations and then of course my birthday before that and in the summer I was busy working around the house. I actually did do a fair bit of labour intensive work around the house, but managed to spread it over a couple of months.

The truth is I took a break.

I needed the break, last year my brother passed away and I don’t think I have really come to grips with the loss. I don’t deal with death very well, choosing to ignore it and just carry on with my life as if nothing has changed. Probably nothing has changed except for the way I look at and interact with the world. I’m working on it… Part of it is that I got to the point where I knew that I was writing for just a handful of people and a larger group that somehow managed to stumble upon the blog when they were Google…ing something interesting.

It has always been my intent to do the blog so that when I am gone the kids and grand kids will be able to read something I had written when they are feeling lonely or blue. That was the plan. I suppose that no matter what I say, I would like people to read the blog, dance around and toss rose petals at my feet. Well, rose petals or cash would be acceptable. That will never happen but it is nice to dream.

I have found that the last few months that have had sporadic blogs there has been something missing from my life. No matter what I did or didn’t accomplish each day the one thing that I could count on is that when people asked if I did anything I could look them in the eye and say, “I wrote my blog!” They would look back at me and I could tell they would have been as impressed if I had told them I had farted in a crowded elevator. It’s not about them, it is about me.

Well, starting today I am going to get back into a daily routine of writing the blog, not farting in elevators. I could do both I suppose. There is no reason I can’t excel at numerous things.

Here is to me taking a step backwards into the future!

End This Now

So, it is minus 21 but feels ten degrees colder. I have been out in colder weather, but it wasn’t what I would call a fun time. Doable, but not fun.

I have no real reason that I need to venture forth in unpleasant weather, but I will go for coffee, pick up the mail and every now and then I need to buy food. Worse case scenario I am outside for maybe five or ten minutes shovelling the snow. I do spend a lot of my day walking past windows, watching the wind blow snow sideways and feeling sorry for the poor sods that have to work outside on days like today. I was one of them for thirty years. No longer!

I am older and feel the cold a little more than I used to. Oh, I could still work outside and now and then I will test myself, but if I could choose I would be walking past windows and watching the palm trees blowing in the wind. Choices…

I can’t help but cast my mind back in time before central heating and synthetic filled jackets. I don’t even want to think about using outdoor facilities when it is below -30. I have had the pleasure when it was just above freezing and it wasn’t something I would want to do for any length of time. No reading on the can.

Can you imagine having to wake up to a home that was well below freezing and having to start the fire to make something warm to get you through the day of outdoor chores. Not my idea of how to live a life. I am happy to have been born when and where I was.

We set our thermostat to 15° C at night to save on the fuel bill while we are snuggled under several comforters. Right now it has dropped to 19° C and I am feeling the chill. I could go and adjust the temperature a few degrees while I finish the blog or I could end this now.