The Crab Chronicles

Sharp as a Tack

Ooooh, you want to see a southerner get riled up? Really riled up? Say something ugly to their mama. Mother had to yell at a tech in the CVS Pharmacy the other day, and that tech should've been fired.

Mother is 78 and SHARP AS A TACK. 100% NOT senile. Not even fuzzy.

Mother called CVS to ask why her prescription was being held up. She suspected if was because they were trying to get it renewed from the old doctor, even though the new doctor's name and phone number are in the computer. Sure enough, the girl on the phone kept talking to Mother like she was a child.

Now, my mother has always had exquisite manners. She is Southern, after all. However, she doesn't take any crap, either.

She got so frustrated, she finally yelled '"IF YOU'D JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S GOING ON!" The girl had been talking nonstop about how they had to call Dr. V - the old doctor.

"You can't tell me to shut up!" the girl had said indignantly.

"I can talk to the manager!" Mother retorted.

Mother hung up talking to her and called the new doctor, Dr. G, so they would know what was happening and hopefully get it straight. When she told his nurse what had happened, the woman laughed so hard she couldn't talk for a minute.

Mother shouldn't have to put up with pharmacy techs who talk to her like she's senile or stupid. It's  insane.

When did we go from treating older people with respect and honor, to treating them like children?!

The important thing is to take up for yourself, if you're over 65. If you are the child or friend of a senior citizen, urge them to not put up with being treated badly. There's no excuse for it.

I have a cousin who is close to 90, and an aunt who is 84, and neither one is mentally impaired in any way. They email me and about 100 other people on a regular basis. Mother is 78 and writes a blog. She knows more about what's going on in the world than I do, because she watches the news all the time.

Anyway, it got my blood boiling and I had to rant a bit.

Five more days to Christmas!

me and my brother with Mother, about 1999.

Sorry for the Spam!

To those of you who received emails from me this morning [you thought] about 8:45 or 9, I did NOT send them. My email account got spammed, much to my horror. I tried to send email replies apologizing but the Yahoo folks said I had gone over my limit of sending emails and the system now won't let me send outgoing emails for another 24-48 hours.

I am really frustrated with the whole situation. I already changed my account password. I can't access Facebook here at work to post there. So again, my deepest apologies. 

Obviously I need to wake up and have some caffeine in the morning before I just start clicking stupidly. 

If I ever send you an email with just a few words and a link to something, DON'T click the link. It's probably not from me.

SO SORRY.

Safety First

I have had a hard time tuning out all the media attention to the CT shootings but I have tried very hard not to watch much of it.I listened to a story on NPR on Friday as I was driving home from work and I started crying.

I want to say to everyone talking about stricter gun laws STOP. Just stop. This is not England or Australia. This is America. There are too many guns to just ban them all.Then only criminals will have them and nobody will be safe.

Should any idiot be able to buy assault weapons easily? No, of course not.

We need safer schools now. ARM the principals. Give free training to the principals and the teachers. My brother teaches people how to shoot and how to defend themselves.

You CANNOT stop mental illness. You cannot. All you can do is arm yourself and be prepared.

We must have better resources for helping parents of mentally ill kids. My friend Cindy has lived in terror of her own children, because she couldn't get them the help they needed. It's not right.

Here's a radical solution. QUIT sending money to countries like Syria, and use it to fund programs to help the mentally ill. You'll see a huge decrease in crime.

The most immediate problem is how to make our kids safe NOW. Michael said in his school the teachers lock the doors at the start of the period. OK. What if a gunman shoots the lock off the door? What then?

Bruce showed me this video a couple of years ago. I wish the teachers at Newtown had seen it. I wish the principal had been able to grab a rifle and go out and shoot the madman before he killed children.

 

Lessons About Freedom

One of my son's teachers likes to use his power to expound on all of his opinions about politics and what gets reported in the news.Fortunately, he's making Michael angry, and Michael is learning how to think critically so he can debate Mr. S.

We had a big discussion last night about how Mr. S said that since the CT school shooter planned the shooting, he must not have been crazy. As Michael pointed out to me, the very fact someone would murder innocent children seems to be evidence of mental illness.

One of the most important lessons I think we need to teach our kids is how to debate. I told Michael he should make a point of learning how to respectfully point out to a teacher when he has a differing viewpoint.

I went to a small Christian college my freshman year, and I had a lot of stuff thrown at me that I didn't agree with, and it made me angry. I had to learn how to argue my point of view. I didn't change any rock-hard unyielding fundamentalist minds, I'm sure, but I didn't just give in to their dogma, either.

I got into a debate on Facebook last night with a friend who thinks the school shootings happened because "God isn't allowed in the classroom any more."

Um, nope. Two flaws with that argument.

1. Any child can pray any time, in any classroom, to any deity. The fact the teacher isn't leading them in prayer is irrelevant. To believers, God is everywhere.

2. The CT shooter was mentally ill. God had nothing to do with that. Religion doesn't stop bullets being sprayed by anyone. In fact, right now in Afghanistan, people die every day because there are fundamentalist Muslims who don't tolerate anything else.

In response to her assertion that the founding fathers of America were all Christian and we should all be Christian, this was my take on it:

The founding fathers could not have envisioned the public schools we have today, with a mix of Jewish, Muslim, and non-Christian children. To insist that all children pray the same prayers and think the same things, which might contradict what their parents believe, is simply wrong. If you want your children to believe a certain religion, by all means send them to a religious school. Do not impose one set of beliefs on all children, though. America was founded on the principal that everyone has the right to worship God or not - completely different from any other place at the time of our founding. Some of my ancestors were French Huguenots, persecuted for being Protestant in Catholic France. So I am sensitive to the idea that everyone must have the same beliefs or be punished. // We'll probably have to just agree to disagree. The nice thing is that we can do that and neither one of us has to fear being arrested because we disagree on this.

Michael and I have been watching a terrific movie, For Love or Country: The Arturo Sandoval Story, and we've had some good discussions about what it's like to live in a communist country, and why democracy is better. I like to show him movies like that, that make him think. Plus we get to listen to some wonderful jazz music.

I pointed out that his birthmom probably had no choice in her career. In America, we can be what we want, without the government forcing that on us.

We can also believe what we want, without the government forcing religion on us. Thank goodness.

Michael has to go to school dressed as a god today, and we had fun putting together his costume. He is Zeus. If he was in a "Christian" school they probably wouldn't allow this, so I'm glad he goes to a public school. He's not fixing to worship Zeus. I'm not worried about it. LOL

Rainy Monday

Yesterday was another of those incredibly busy days, with too much to do and not enough hours. Adding to the fun, it was pouring rain.

We had to go to Michaels and I had to buy crafts stuff for Michael because he has to dress like a god or character from mythology. I made him a toga. He will also have one of those "laurel wreaths" [aka a headband with plastic ferns glued to it], and sandals, etc. Can't believe he's in high school and playing dress up...

Anyway, the store's parking lot was a nightmare. Michael stayed in the car, circling, while I dashed in and bought stuff. Pouring rain.

Kroger was crowded too, but not nearly as bad. Then I came home and hemmed pants, fixed dinner, wrapped presents, helped Mike with homework, did laundry, etc.

I also wrote two blogs for my friend James.

So now I am have to go make Michael some breakfast and get him moving and grooving.It never ends!

Hope y'all have a great day!

Communication Issues

I always strive to be a nice person. I really do. I am far from perfect, but I try to be kind and generous. I try to listen. If I fall short I try to improve.

However, there are days when I am just totally puzzled by how people view me. Apparently there are some people out there who think I am a jerk.

I saw a lady at work the other day, in the building lobby, that I used to know. I'll call her Janey. We had worked at the same law firm years ago. We had socialized outside of work numerous times. I looked at her as she walked by me the other day, and as soon as it registered who she was, I was tempted to turn around and hurry after her and say Hi, so nice to see you, we work in the same building now, we should have lunch.

Then I remembered that the last time I saw Janey, some years ago, we had a chance meeting at a store. She acted like she barely knew me. I had made a point of going up to her and saying Hi, and she just sort of nodded and turned away, very coldly. I later sent her an email and asked her why she had acted that way, and to please call me.

She never did. I didn't call her because my feelings were hurt. I felt like she should apologize. Obviously she felt differently. [FYI, I'm not revealing her name for reasons of privacy.]

I later talked to another co-worker who said she had thought they were good friends, but Janey never called her either. Ever. She had to initiate all socializing, and found Janie's actions upsetting. So apparently this is a pattern with Janey. That should have made me feel better, but it didn't.

Then today I had an email from an old friend I haven't heard from in a while, saying I had written hurtful things about her on my blog, which totally startled me. I went back and pulled all my posts where I had ever mentioned her [there are only about 3] and re-read them. I didn't write anything mean, that I could discern. In fact, I thought what I had written was nice. I just pulled the posts down and apologized. I couldn't think what else to do. I am utterly puzzled.

Had an email a couple of weeks ago from another old friend who said I had said mean things to her years ago. There again, I was totally floored. I had no recollection of that. I certainly never meant to hurt her feelings.

Maybe the trouble is a lack of communication.

I have always maintained that most of the world's problems could be solved if people would just communicate better. Say what you mean. Strive to communicate clearly. Don't leave hurtful or negative things unsaid. Just get them out in the open. Put the negative stuff on the table and process it.

I keep wondering if the problem is the old adage "if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all." That was certainly drilled into my head as a child.

Maybe what we should tell kids instead is something like, "If you can't say something nice, at least try to not say things that are hurtful. Talk about your feelings, and strive for meaningful dialogue instead of building up silent resentments." Of course, that's not short and pithy like "If you can't say something nice don't say anything at all."

Most of my friends stay friends with me, for years and years. We have disagreements. We snap and fuss at each other sometimes. But we stay friends. That's how human beings keep long relationships, I am convinced. I'm sure that's how long-married people keep it going, too - not letting anger build up. Otherwise you would be miserable, right? [Clearly since I've never been married I am just guessing here.]

In any event, I guess the takeaway is that I should talk less and listen more. Or I should find friends that are better at communicating.

[BTW, I know this is a pretty obscure post but I am just trying to work out my feelings, not spread more negative vibes.]

Or maybe I should just not grieve over relationships that don't work out. Not everyone is meant to be in my life forever.

I saw something on Facebook recently that illustrates this. It went something like: "The people in your life are there for a reason. Either they are a blessing or a lesson."

Food for thought.

Here endeth the lesson.

Healing and Thriving

Wow, it's so hard to think of anything to write today, in light of the tragedy in Connecticut. As I was driving home from work yesterday, I heard interviews on NPR with the teachers.I wanted to cry but I didn't want to wreck the car.

The last time I taught anything was in 2007 when I taught first graders in Vacation Bible School. They were so precious. Michael had just come home, and he was the same size as most of my first graders. He hated to leave me all morning, but he was in the third grade class and Alesia was in there as a teacher's aide, and was translating for him.

This is Michael during that time.

I wish the news media would leave all those children that lived through this tragedy completely alone. Those children have a long road ahead of healing. I'm sure many of them have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Children can have that too, it's not just soldiers that get it.

I've shared here how Michael lost his hand, due to frostbite after a severe beating. That such brutality was inflicted on a little 5 year old is tough to imagine and I don't want to think of it.The only good thing about it was that there was an article about it in the paper, and the memory of it, even three years later, is what prompted the assistant principal of the orphanage to get Michael out of the shelter and to the big orphanage where she worked. As orphanages go, the Regional Boarding School in Petropavlovsk isn't too bad. Michael spent two years there before I adopted him. So out of evil, ultimately, my son was rescued.

Here's a message for everyone, though.

Michael survived a terrible, senseless tragedy. He has to live with the consequences every day of his life.

BUT

He has no memory of what happened that day. None. This is how God helps to heal us. He cannot stop evil. He can help us heal, though.

It's for the grownups to remember, and to try and prevent that same tragedy from ever happening again.

One of my many prayers is that the children who survived the horror of yesterday will heal and thrive as much as my son has healed.

Aging Rapidly

Yes, I keep noticing more and more signs that I am rapidly, irreversibly, non-gracefully, alarmingly AGING. Not like fine wine, either.

Maybe like fine WHINE.

My body may look young [cough cough] but my thoughts are getting very senior.

Michael and I were watching a movie that looked interesting and funny, Friends With Kids, and I kept thinking I wish they wouldn't use the F word so much! I seriously considered turning it off, but sheer curiosity kept me watching to the end.Then they went crazy with the F word and I wished my aunt Myrtle was there to wash their mouths out with soap.

She was  a tiny woman but Myrtle was a Ninja Warrior with a bar of Dial soap. You did NOT want to cuss around her.

I went to a little gathering in my office building today where the management folks put out Christmas goodies, and I watched an otherwise diginified looking older man in an expensive suit holding large chocolate chip cookies under the chocolate fountain like a 3 year old, completely hogging the fountain. I thought to myself Your mama didn't raise you right....

- and for the record, chocolate fountains? I don't see the point. The chocolate is too watery. Ick.  Give me a couple of Hershey's miniatures any day.

My father used to scream and cuss out people in the car, when he didn't like or approve of their driving. Then he was polite the rest of the time, outside the car. His inner Obnoxious Guy came out in the car though, to a scary degree sometimes. I watched one tirade too many, obviously, because I find myself losing control and yelling in the car, thinking were you taught to drive by a New York cabbie?! Much to my horror, this apple is not far from the tree. Thank God the car is soundproof.

I made oatmeal for breakfast this morning and put some cinnamon and a chopped up apple in it. I didn't think to myself, oh yummy. I thought to myself, wow, what a lot of good fiber!

I don't think of Christmas any more with any.excitement.whatsoever. I think, how many gifts should I get for everyone and how long will it take me to pay off the credit card bill next year?! Now I totally get why Dad gave us the austerity speech every January. It always began with him looking at his checkbook and shaking his head, saying "We have GOT to cut back!"

He was a banker. Unlike most folks, we did NOT live beyond our means. We tightened our belts.

This is why today I won't wear a belt. Ha!

I realized while looking at Pinterest that I judge all seating now by one standard, and it's not, how cool is that chair!

It's more like, will it hurt my back to sit in that?! Hmm....

I keep seeing an ad captioned 4 Bodliy Signs a Heart Attack is Near, and thinking boy am I glad I quit smoking years ago. I am interested in the signs, yet not.

I live in my own little world of delusion. Or shall we say DEE-lusion?! Whatever. The occasional spark of immaturity is so delightful to me now.

I am craving a Blow Pop.

Happy Friday y'all!

Reminders of What We Lack

About 99% of the time, I forget that Michael only has one hand. Then, when I'm totally not expecting it, something is said, or done, or seen, that reminds me of that fact.

Then I want to just hit something. HARD.There is no justice in a world where my sweet son has to struggle so much, every day. He hardly ever mentions it.

So we were in Walmart yesterday picking up a few things, and we were in electronics. The speakers on my computer died and I asked Mike if he wanted to buy me some for Christmas, his gift to me.

I had just finished scrabbling through the bins of $5 DVDs and we were slowly walking towards pet supplies to buy some piddle pads for Coco. I looked at all the computers and games and gadgets.

"If you had an unlimited amount of money and could buy anything in this area of the store, what would you buy?" I asked Michael.

"I would like to buy a game console," he said, nodding at an X-Box, "but I can't really use the controls."

Most videogame things like X-Box really aren't for people with only one hand.

I wanted to cry.

There's nothing to be done about it. He has a prosthetic. All he can do with it is grasp, though. I watched him zip up the front of his hoodie yesterday and was glad he had it, but it's really not enough.

I was thinking just the other day, I don't really want any material thing for Christmas. I so want to see my daughter, because it's been 18 months and she's already missed one Christmas at home. (It's doubtful her controlling boyfriend will allow her to come for a visit this year, either. I just have to pray...)

Last night I had an even more unreasonable request: to see Michael with two real hands.

Maybe one day, years from now, I will see him with two hands, if technology advances enough.

Mother is in pain a lot, due to the edema in her legs. It's also hard for her to walk, or to sleep at night. We hope the bandages will come off before Christmas but there's no way to know.

This is why Christmas is an effort this year, a huge effort, to be cheerful, because I am reminded so often of why it is hard for so many people I love...

My brother and Michael, 2010.

Letter to Santa

I wanted to share two funny things, a letter to Santa, and a Lewis Black rant about cellphones. If you're easily offended by bad language, sorry.

Timmy Writes a Christmas Letter

 
Dear Santa,
How are you? How is Mrs. Claus? I hope everyone, from the reindeer to the elves, is fine. I have been a very good boy this year. I would like a Kinect for X-Box 360, Call of Duty Black Ops 2 and an iPhone 5 for Christmas. I hope you remember that come Christmas Day.
Merry Christmas,
Timmy Jones


Dear Timmy,
Thank you for you letter. Mrs. Claus, the reindeer and the elves are all fine and thank you for asking about them. Santa is a little worried all the time you spend playing video games and texting. Santa wouldn't want you to get fat. Since you have indeed been a good boy, I think I'll bring you something you can go outside and play with.
Merry Christmas,
Santa Claus


Mr. Claus,
Seeing that I have fulfilled the "naughty vs. nice" contract, set by you I might add, I feel confident that you can see your way clear to granting me what I have asked for. I certainly wouldn't want to turn this joyous season into one of litigation. Also, don't you think that a jibe at my weight coming from an overweight man who goes out once a year is rather ridiculous?
Respectfully,
Tim Jones


Mr. Jones,
While I have acknowledged you have met the "nice" criteria, need I remind you that your Christmas list is a request and in no way is it a guarantee of merchandise. Should you wish to pursue legal action, that is your right. Please know, however, that my attorneys have been on retainer ever since the Burgermeister Meisterburger incident and will be more than happy to take you on in open court. Additionally, the exercise I alluded to will not only improve your health, but also improve your social skills and potentially help clear up a complexion that looks like the bottom of the Burger King fry bin most days.
Very Truly Yours,
S Claus


Now look here Fat Man,
I told you what I want and I expect you to bring it. I was attempting to be polite about this but you brought my looks and my friends into this. Now you just be disrespecting me. I'm about to tweet my boys and we're gonna be waiting for your fat ass and I'm taking my game console, my game, my phone, and whatever else I want. WHAT EVER I WANT, MAN!
T-Bone


Listen Pizza Face,
Seriously??? You think a dude that breaks into every house in the world on one night and never gets caught sweats a skinny g-banger wannabe? "He sees you when you're sleeping; He knows when you're awake". Sound familiar, genius? You know what kind of resources I have at my disposal. I got your s*** wired, Jack. I go all around the world and see ways to hurt people that if I described them right now, you'd throw up your Totino's pizza roll all over the carpet of your mom's basement. You're not getting what you asked for, but I'm still stopping by your crib to stomp a mud hole in your ass and then walk it dry. Chew on that, Petunia.
S Clizzy


Dear Santa,
Bring me whatever you see fit. I'll appreciate anything.
Timmy


Timmy,
That's what I thought you little bastard.
Santa