musings

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Adult Learning

Today, I want to talk about something that all parents are well aware of. If you’re not a parent yet, or you are but your kids are not school-aged yet, I want to share some important information with you.

When you help your kids with their homework, you are going to look and feel like a complete idiot. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth of it. Just accept it now.

Not to sound like a wizened elder, spinning yarns while rocking on the front porch with a pocketful of Werther’s Originals and a sense of nostalgia, but back in my day I remember when math was just math. When my kids went to school, there was a whole “new math” curriculum. Although it really should’ve been called art class, because they were doing more drawing than actual math.

On another note, why do we say the “three R’s” of education when referring to Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic? Only one of these starts with R? Yeah, yeah, they “sound” like R, I get it. Seriously though, it’s no wonder we’re behind other first-world countries when it comes to education. The very foundation of our education system is built on falsehoods. But I digress.

When my kids were in elementary school and learning math, they had to draw ten chocolate chip cookies, plus five blueberry muffins, and then figure out how many pizzas that would get them. If you thought, like I did, the answer was diabetes, you’d be wrong. To make matters worse, halfway through the worksheet, I’d get freakin’ hungry.

When we got to fractions? Oof. I’ve never felt dumber than when I was trying to explain “new math” fractions to my kids. I don’t think I’m a completely inept person, but I didn’t realize just how much I didn’t know until my kids went to school. We learned by rote when I went to school, you see. There was no real problem solving or out-of-the-box thinking. There was no explanation or concern over the relationship of numbers in math. It was “this is how you do it because that’s how it’s done to get the answer you want.” The answer was the point and if you didn’t understand how you actually got the answer, it didn’t matter.

Click the image to find out more about the fantastic artist, Nathan Pyle.

Once my kids got past elementary school, they took it up a notch. They came home with assignments covering anything from calculus to advanced statistics. Did you pay attention in school that day? I didn’t. Meanwhile, throughout their high school years, I was quietly reminiscing about the “good old days” when I had to go to the local community college and learn how to paint, and signed up for an advanced class titled, “Techniques of Professional Clay Work,” just so I could help them with their 3rd grade math homework. At least, I felt like I was contributing. But college prep math? In this day and age? No way.

Science projects aren’t what they used to be, either. In my day, they discouraged nuclear fission and the like, and promoted the good ol’ baking soda volcano. Now kids are coming up with cures for diseases, apps that NASA didn’t even think of, and straws that will detect date rape drugs. I guess the paint-by-numbers they did in elementary school was the right way to go after all.

Some people think that kids these days aren’t all that and a bag of chips just because they’re not learning or behaving the way we did once upon a time. Sure, they may not be able to change a tire or write in cursive, but they’re on a mission to make the world a better place, and that’s a good thing. Evolution at its finest. Besides, to paraphrase the great Dr. Emmett Brown, “Cars? Where we’re going, we don’t need cars!”

Yeah, yeah, there are tide pod kids and mouth breathers in every generation and sadly, those are the ones making the news. But I swear, the next generation is equipped to save the world and I say, more power to them. I mean, us old-timers are about to have another world war, so we’re gonna need the next generation to fix things once we’ve destroyed everything. Maybe we should give them a little bit more respect.

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I’m Back, Baby

I know it’s been a while.  But for those of you still with me, I’m back, baby!  For the past couple of months, I’ve been dealing with a medical issue that has had a bigger impact on my life than I expected. But I’ve had some good news in the past couple of days and with a clear plan on how to move forward, I once again feel motivated to start doing things I enjoy, such as commiserating here with you. My mind is full of fresh, new ideas and some rants I hadn’t even considered ranting about before, so stay tuned!  And thank you for sticking around. I’ve missed you.

 

 

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Is It Over Yet?

Christmas is almost here. Bah humbug.

My kids are grown and I find that the holiday just isn’t the same as when they were little. Back then, I would deck out the tree, decorate the entire house, and enjoy the sounds of laughter and excitement as the jolly old fat man’s arrival grew nearer and nearer. There’s just something about the unabashed joy children bring to the season. It’s enough to melt even my curmudgeonly heart.

In recent years, my love for a clutter free home has won out against my love for Christmas decorations. I now live vicariously through the Clark Griswolds of the world (I’m looking at you, Paul). Although, to be fair, the only reason I don’t have a tree is thanks to the ne’er-do-well. She climbed it a couple of years back, got stuck in the string of lights, and almost broke her leg while struggling to get out. Imagine waking up to the sounds of a thousand banshees in your living room. Yeah, that was fun. I ended up having to cut a perfectly good string of lights to get her loose. So now, I have an enormous collection of Christmas tree ornaments – which I add to every year – with no tree on which to hang them thanks to a very real fear of finding a cat hanging by her hindleg amongst the limbs.

I will admit, a lot of my bah humbug comes from my deep hatred of stores, people, and frigid temps. Oh, I love snow! But you see, we don’t get snow. We just get wind and -5° weather and apparently, it gets dark at noon now. Did I mention people?  Yeah, they’re everywhere and even more so during the holidays. Ugh. People. Amirite?  And don’t even get me started with the super holiday spirited folks singing carols for absolutely no reason whatsoever and holiday work parties with the overly extroverted coworkers you usually only see via Zoom. Did you know there’s no mute button in real life? Right!?  I was disappointed to say the least.

Some rituals of the season I do enjoy despite the Grinchiness that has crept up on me in my old age. Baking with holiday music blaring in the background and Christmas movies – though it’s more Hallmark now and less Rudolph – and matching what I hope is the perfect gift to the right person, especially my children. I love my kids and of course, they did have to grow up, despite my admonishments to the contrary. If they had just listened to me, they’d still be 5 years old. But they never listen. What can you do? I miss wrapping presents late into the night on Christmas Eve and waiting for everyone to fall asleep so I could sneak in to put all the gifts under the tree before retreating to my room, trashed with discarded wrapping paper, empty label sheets, and spent tape dispensers, to get too little sleep before the rugrats burst in screaming, “Santa came! Santa came!” at an ungodly hour.

Alas, nowadays, I find myself tucked in, all nice and cozy, at a respectable hour on Christmas Eve with nary an alarm clock in sight. Christmas morning has a little less mess and a lot less toys and it no longer looks like the Christmas section at Macy’s threw up in my living room. I even get to sleep in. As luck would have it, my kids inherited my “I love sleep gene” and when they’re home, they’re more than happy to sleep in.  We watch Krampus instead of Charlie Brown and have wine instead of hot chocolate. We play Cards Against Humanity instead of Mousetrap. The cookies and fudge are the same, no need to mess with perfection. And as I watch my kids laughing together while reminiscing of Christmases past, all is right in the world.

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The Art of Bad Spelling

Everyone has their own unique take on art. Author E.A. Bucchianeri wrote, “Art is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone will have their own interpretation.”  But where is graffiti’s place in the art world?  Graffiti has its origins in 1970s New York, when young people began to use spray paint and other materials to create images on buildings and on the sides of subway trains. Although, technically speaking, ancient cave art is also a form of graffiti.

Here’s a question for you: Is it art or is it vandalism? The public is pretty much split on the idea, which isn’t surprising. It’s strange how, as a society, we almost overwhelmingly value and appreciate cave art and yet generally vilify urban graffiti art when they’re really just two creative peas in a vibrant, colorful pod.

Personally, I think some graffiti art is nothing short of a visual masterpiece. I’ve seen so many beautiful works of art painted on the sides of buildings but at the same time, I’ve seen some pretty atrocious ones as well. Have you ever had to wait for a train and as you’re sitting there waiting for yours, you’re left sitting there watching all the other train cars go by? That’s when you really see some “winners” let me tell ya. Gang slang, random dicks, and a bunch of generally incoherent pieces is all it is. Occasionally something that took a little effort will sneak by, but not often.

There’s also been more than a few times where I’ve come across graffiti on the sides of buildings in urban landscapes that don’t particularly hold any artistic merit or, in some cases, even basic spelling. With that said, I’m well aware that some words are misspelled on purpose for whatever reason like perhaps it holds some sort of hidden message or something unique to the artist. At the end of the day, graffiti is art and art is always up for interpretation but there are only so many ways you can interpret a poorly rendered picture of the word “ketchup” on the side of a building.

I live in a suburb and recently I’ve noticed more and more graffiti popping up, but unfortunately, it’s not the pretty kind. If it were, I’d have no issue whatsoever as I’m sure it would brighten the place up and be something nice and unique to look at.

Generally speaking, I think that graffiti artists are extremely talented and the art they craft can extend far beyond spectacular. I know I’ve seen quite a few amazing murals in some places, hell, I’ve even seen businesses pay graffiti artists to come up with something unique and thought-invoking on their walls. Not only can a well-painted piece of graffiti be fresh and edgy, but it can also be a one-of-a-kind talking piece that customers are sure to remember. In a world that loves remaking classics and imitating the art that came before it, a uniquely crafted work of graffiti could do wonders for a small up-and-coming business, or even a well-established one for that matter. Unfortunately, those types of graffiti artists don’t live in my town. I’m not sure what one would call them, but artists they are not. Cause what passes for graffiti art around here is severely lacking in any artistic talent whatsoever. I know that might sound harsh, but come on. Those of us who have to look at the end product deserve better.

If you’re wondering what I came across to prompt this critique, it was nothing more than a simple statement written in plain black spray paint that said, “I like my bad habits best surved cold.”  Yep, you read that right, “surved” instead of “served.” There doesn’t seem to be any reason to spell served as surved, at least, not that I could find. And believe me, I spent entirely too long searching for a reason… any reason. Even if there was a hidden purpose behind the misspelling, the art itself was extra lackluster. Perhaps if it wasn’t, I could have overlooked the bad spelling but at the end of the day, it was just ugly and horribly executed. If you’re going to misspell something, whether on purpose or by accident, there should at least be some artistic merit behind the effort. Hell, I’d even take an emotionally or politically charged statement such as “eat the rich” or “make love, not war,” you know, something we can all get behind. It just seems like a waste of time to deface public property with something like the word “surved.”

I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish with this little rant, but I guess if I can discourage at least one bad graffiti artist from ruining a wall somewhere, then this post will have “surved” its purpose.

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Speaking in Tongues

Every generation has its own slang terms that generally confuse the older generations that came before them. For instance, kids today are saying things like “bussin” when something is really good. Usually, it’s in reference to food, or so I’m told, but it could be anything. Or perhaps you’ve heard the word “bet” in response to someone asking if your plans are still on for later. This one wasn’t as confusing as a few I’ve heard. Some slang terms go full circle and come back around. Just like fashion. Young people think they’ve created something when really, it originated with their great-grandparents or even *gasp* their parents.

But what about words for things that aren’t necessarily considered slang… they’re more or less just outdated terms from the “old world?” I mean I’m sure pretty much everyone calls pants, pants now. My grandparents, however, generally referred to them as slacks. Do you ever remember your grandparents taking you to see the pictures? Of course, when I say pictures, I’m not referring to a photo album store but rather the movie theater or cinema. Speaking of which, it used to be just cinema. Now it’s the movie theater. As a kid, I remember wearing galoshes which are practically only referred to as rainboots today. At least to my knowledge. Do teens even go necking anymore? I doubt most of them even know what it means, but yeah, I’m sure they still probably do it.

While I’m on the topic of speaking the proverbial “old tongue,” I have a small story that highlights exactly what I’m talking about. Just the other day I was out shopping with my daughter, and I told a young cashier at the store that I loved her blouse. It was in fact quite lovely. Sheer black with a muted white design, buttoned collar.  As soon as the words left my mouth, I had that weird sensation that you get when you think someone is awkwardly staring at you for a reason you’re not completely aware of.  As I looked up from digging my wallet out of my needlessly cavernous purse, I found that I was right. This young woman had the most confused look on her face as she tried to make sense of what I had just said to her. After a few seconds she had given up and responded hesitantly with, “…my what?”

As I was trying to figure out what blouse might rhyme with that could cause offense if misheard (in an effort to know what type of apology needed to be offered), my daughter swooped in, and quickly explained to her that I was talking about her top. Apparently, my daughter explained later, no one says blouse anymore. The cashier’s face brightened and she cheerfully said, “thank you!” The crisis created by my attempt at a compliment was averted. In that moment, I felt old.  So old.

This whole situation reminded me of some previous writings where I discuss my ability to bewilder my kids with phrases that I’ve grown up with that they’ve never heard of. Here are a few of my favorites:

  • Piss or get off the pot.
  • It’s like trying to herd cats.
  • I’ve got no dog in this fight.
  • That dog won’t hunt.

But blouse?? Come on, that’s a common term, right? When did we stop saying blouse? Who knows, I was probably absent that day.

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I’m not going.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but, back in July, I had a health scare that put me in the hospital. The doctors assured me that the issue was resolved and life could continue with nary a worry on the horizon.  Well, as so often happens, they were wrong. My recent radio silence was brought on by another such incident occurring and yep, another hospital stay.  But, my family and you, dear readers, are not getting rid of me so easily. I’m here to stay.

Besides, from experience, it’s the really outrageous plotlines that come next… wouldn’t want to miss that.

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Ukuleles and Airlines, Oh My!

Anyone who knows me is aware that I am an introvert. I make no bones about it. Don’t get me wrong, I still do what I have to do when I have to do it, but generally speaking, I value my private time and my personal space. So naturally, when I have to fly, these things I enjoy are  thrown completely out the window. If you’ve flown before, especially if you do it often, one of the biggest pet peeves you may have is children crying during the entire flight. However, there are a lot of folks out there who have no problem blocking that out with AirPods, a movie, or just a few decades of being a parent. But what if you were just peacefully sitting there on your flight and suddenly a few people got up and started handing out ukuleles to everyone, leading to an impromptu music lesson?

The “magical” ukulele event took place on Southwest Airlines and generated an unusually high response from the community. While there were a bunch of people who weren’t too keen on the idea (such as myself), there were also a lot of folks who somehow enjoyed it. I know, right? I’m not sure what’s wrong with them, but it takes all kinds, I guess. I should also point out that I wasn’t on the flight, I merely read about it, but I feel for any introvert in that situation. Along with the people who wanted nothing more than to catch a quick nap during their flight.

Can you imagine relaxing and leaning back (as much as you can lean back in seats made in hell), closing your eyes, and then BAM! Ukulele music … and not from talented folks, either. From people who had likely never held a ukulele before in their lives. I shudder to think. All I can say is, no. No, thanks. Let me off. I’ll catch the next flight, thank you very much.

These surprise events all started sometime before the pandemic, which is when Southwest became known for these onboard “surprise and delight” programs, but with traveling and the tourist scene slowing down, these little events have drastically slowed down as well.

One Twitter user commented, “If the flight I’m on ever turns into a surprise group music lesson I am going to sue the airline for $50 billion in emotional damages” and I can honestly say that I’m 100% in agreement with that.

Another user commented, “If you aren’t on board or you haven’t experienced it, it’s out of the ordinary, and that’s kind of the point. … It’s something special and uniquely Southwest.” Well, if that’s how Southwest flies, then I’ll be flying with literally anyone else. There could be some guy dressed as the Rocketeer flying people solely on his back to their location, and I’d be more than happy to take him up on the offer to get to my destination as long as he promised not to pull any crap like fucking ukulele lessons.

All kidding aside, this happened on a flight from Long Beach to Honolulu and while you may be wondering if it lasted the entire trip, luckily it was all pretty much over in about 20 minutes. At least the staff took pity on the passengers so they didn’t have to listen to a few dozen people trying to belt out the chords to “Freebird” on ukuleles from Cali all the way to Hawaii. Although, come to think of it, that might’ve just been self-preservation on the staff’s part.

I must admit though, a free ukulele would be kind of cool, but not as cool as a free parachute in that situation. And honestly, if you knew how I felt about jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, you’d realize how serious I am about hating an impromptu amateur ukulele concert.

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A Kid at Heart

I really don’t think there is a generation alive that hasn’t grown up with Disney in some way, shape or form. If I remember correctly, one of the first Disney cartoons to ever come out was back in the 20s and starred Oswald the rabbit instead of Mickey Mouse. Then in the 30s, a little animated jaunt came out from the studio called Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Perhaps you’ve heard of that one? A quick online search shows that there are a few people still alive in the states who were born between 1905 and 1910 who would have been in their 20s when Disney started making short cartoons which means even the oldest people in America had a little Disney in their early adult years. My generation grew up in front of the tv on Sunday evenings with The Wonderful World of Disney (followed by Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom).

All of this to say that it’s easy to see how kids grow into adults who are Disney babies at heart. I even know of childless couples who have no issue with going to Disneyland or Disney World or even confessing that they are obsessed with all things Disney. They even have Disney-themed weddings with nary a child in sight.  I have friends in their 30s and 40s who readily admit that they’ve watched all the classics such as Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Fantasia, Lion King, etc., and why not? I mean, we were all young once, right?  And if Disney is to be believed, we’re all young still.

But what about when an adult watches a Disney movie by themselves in today’s day and age? Well, depending on who you ask, that’s a whole different story. I’ve recently learned that it’s somewhat of a taboo subject and it’s where a lot of adults (especially men) draw the line. Admit that you like cartoons? Oof. Some people will definitely give you a few looks. I mean, I’m a Looney Tunes gal, love the show, and always have. Animaniacs?  I am so there. I love Pixar and Disney movies too and even a few that fall outside the franchise names we all know, like FernGully (20th Century Fox), The Land Before Time (Universal), Spirited Away (Studio Ghibli), Howl’s Moving Castle (also Studio Ghibli), and many more. There are a lot of well-done animated features that I’d happily recommend to anyone looking for a good wholesome film to watch.

When my kids were younger, it was easy to get my cartoon fix. No one bats an eye at a mom taking their kid to the movies or plopping down on the couch to watch a round of Pinky and the Brain. I had plenty of “Oh, I’m just taking the kids to the movies!” or “I bought it for the kids!” moments. Yeah, that’s right, the kids. I’m sure there was a time or two when they were like, “but mom, I don’t want to watch Lady and Tramp again” and I’d snap back with, “too bad, we’re watching it anyway.” I may or may not be joking about that previous statement. But with my little ones not so little anymore, it’s become a bit more challenging to act like a grown-up while trying to enjoy my animated guilty pleasures. Now, along comes Bluey, which I actually came across by accident during a work trip while flipping through the channels of the hotel room tv late at night. But without a doubt, it instantly became one of my all-time favorites.  I mean, come on!  Cute little pups with Aussie accents?  Yes, please!

Don’t get me wrong, I just don’t sit there yearning for cartoons regularly or turn on Amazon Prime and binge a season or two of SpongeBob SquarePants. Pfft. Of course, I don’t. I like dramas and action movies, and I consider myself a sucker for a good ole horror flick just as much as the next person, but who’s to say adults can’t enjoy an animated feature every now and again?

Either way, I’m going to do me and just assume that there are tons of people out there who feel the same way but just don’t want to admit they enjoy the occasional cartoon from time to time. Now excuse me, Bluey is on.

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Perfection is Overrated

I know I’ve been a bit quieter than usual here lately. No excuses really, just life getting in the way. But I figure you’ve had enough downtime from my tirades, so I’m determined to get back into the game on a more regular basis. Lucky you. Today felt like kind of a rant-y day, so again, lucky you!

Being a huge animal lover, there’s always been something that I just don’t understand. How is it that we can continue to encroach on wildlife and then wonder why they end up in our space? As humans continue to cut down tree after tree, painstakingly eliminating the vital forests of our planet, people somehow act surprised when a bear, deer, or alligator stumbles into your backyard. If we keep destroying their homelands, then we’re going to have to come to terms with having animal neighbors. And not in the “we’ll just kill them all” way that we’re doing now.

Well, I’ll admit, I don’t really want a bear sniffing around my house, but I’m also aware that not pissing it off and simply chasing it away with a few loud noises will do the trick just fine. Aside from those adorable little trash pandas, which most people call raccoons, animals don’t typically want to go through your trash. And honestly, raccoons would probably not have to dumpster dive either. They, like all animals, would rather survive on the natural bounty provided by their native habitats.  Those same exact habitats that are being wiped out by, you guessed it, us humans. We create the problem and then complain about the problem we created. Oh, but those darn little critters, right? Deer tearing up the flower bed, opossums in the trash, squirrels stealing stuff from the garden… to hell with these pesky pests, right? Let’s all just ignore the reason these animals are forced into an urban lifestyle in the first place.

Here’s an idea. Maybe the space we are trying to evict them from was never our space to begin with. To them, we’re the pests. Consider the Merriam-Webster definitions of the word pest.

  • A plague.
  • Something resembling a pest in destructiveness.
  • Someone or something who annoys, aka a nuisance.

Humans appear to fit the mold quite nicely.  Considering the pollution and war we brought to this planet, and our constant failure at caring for it, we are arguably the most destructive plague in history.

Destructiveness? That little chipmunk dug a hole in your flowerbed because some lumber company just cleared out 20 acres of its habitat for that new development down the way. Shame on that rodent right? What was more destructive, the golf ball-sized hole under your chrysanthemums or wiping out an entire forest? Perfect lawns. Perfect gardens. Perfect perfect perfect. Animals apparently have no place in this façade of perfection.

A nuisance or something that annoys. The third definition of the word pest is pretty much exclusive to humans, gnats, houseflies, and mosquitoes. If you asked me to name 5 things that I find utterly annoying (aside from gnats, houseflies, and mosquitoes), I’m almost positive they would all be human-related. Let’s try.

  1. Being cut off while driving.
  2. Being placed on hold for longer than 5 minutes.
  3. Cold pizza and warm wine.
  4. Most movie remakes.
  5. People doing TikToks in the grocery store in front of the frosted shredded mini-wheats I have a coupon for.

Before you even argue with me, I get it, I do.  You don’t want potentially life-threatening animals near your home, especially if you have children around. But if you live out in the country, this is just a part of life and you need to learn how to cope with it. Preferably without killing the animals who don’t realize that your home is now smack dab in the middle of what used to be their exclusive space.

If you’re closer to town and you’re dealing with pesky little critters like groundhogs and snakes, there are things you can do to safely deter them from certain areas of your property while still allowing them to, you know, live. If you’re a victim of chipmunk abuse, just pull up Google and look for natural and safe deterrents from these highly hostile, albeit teeny-tiny, monsters. That was sarcasm, of course, chipmunks are cute and harmless, but here, I’ll even do you one solid and give you a link to get started. Or, hey, here’s a novel idea, you could do what you’re always expecting everyone else around you to do… share.

Instead of worrying about the perfect lawn or the perfectly organized flower bed filled with ornamental flora, why not sow wildflowers and plants that attract and feed the wildlife you share this space with? Why not make your garden an oasis for all manner of creatures who, frankly, deserve to be here as much as you do? Instead of finding ways to oust them, find ways to grow your empathy and coexist with the animals.

We have destroyed the majority of the natural habitats that used to grace this planet right along with most of the animals who called those habitats home. It’s now up to us to maintain what is left and to ensure that the wildlife can stay wild and healthy. It’s a ridiculously easy thing to do once you get past the whole “mine mine mine” mindset.