Sunday, January 09, 2005

Random Acts of Kvetching

Not to toot my own brain, but I'm a member of Mensa. Last month's issue of the Bulletin had a picture of a young woman with various piercings & tattoos, along with the caption "Generations in Mensa." The letters responding in this month's issue referred to her as an "abomination," a "mutilated trollop," "disgusting," "freak," the list goes on and on. One even quoted from the books of Leviticus & Revelation about how God was going to give her a good comeuppance the next time he saw her. This really depresses me. It seems no matter how old or intelligent they are, (the editor notes that these letters were all sent in by members over the age of 54,) people can still be as mature and understanding as children at the playground. Obviously, there's a bit of displacement going on here- something in their real lives are bothering them, and instead of taking care of it, they flame some woman for looking different than they want her to. Sigh.

My son Joe and I often go bowling. Like most seven-year-olds, he has his own way of flinging the ball down the lane that makes me terrified his fingers are going to snap. Well, I should learn this technique because he bowled two strikes in a row- and not from ricocheting off the gutter bumpers either! I started referring to him as "Double-X." He became all upset and embarrassed. I was surprised, and explained it was a good thing, and he should be proud of the things he accomplishes. He said he knew, he understood, but please don't call him that. Of course, I don't want him being a show-off or a braggart, (anyone who knows Joe knows that this is impossible- he's too sweet for his own good,) but on the other hand I really hope he hasn't learned all ready to hide his light under a bushel. School has a way of cramming that into you early on.

Why don't people ever write real e-mails anymore? I get forwards all the time- jokes, prayers, chain letters, jpgs of well endowed… you get the picture. But no one ever writes just to tell me how their lives are going, or what's important to them. The other night on Jerry Doyle's radio show, he one-upped my feelings and suggested that we shouldn't be e-mailing each other, we should be snail-mailing handwritten letters. When we write by hand, we say what we mean the first time. When we edit, we may think we're saying what we really want to- but we're not. Something to think about.

(I'm including this in every post until the end of the auction.) The beautiful and multitalented French Toast Girl has placed one of her paintings on Ebay to raise money for the victims of the Asian Tsunami. Please check it out here.



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