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Daily Archives: February 5, 2019
Sharkbait! Ooh-ha-ha! I’m the first to admit I would just as soon my death be delivered via shark bite than a car wreck or cancer. My friends say I’m crazy. But think- how cool would it be for y’all to say, “I know a girl who got eat by a shark.” And you would relish in it. The chances are pretty good it could happen, too. My preferred depth of swimming in the ocean is shoulders deep, because that’s right before where the waves break and I don’t have to get beat up by them. I like to be able to bounce off the sandy bottom when one is rolling in and then be able to stand flat footed the rest of the time. Evidently this is the prime feeding area for sharks. I also like to swim late in the day when the sun isn’t so intense. I’m sure it would be completely terrifying. And it might hurt if he doesn’t hit a major artery first thing. But what’s worse- the terror of being trapped in your car and being cut out while everybody stares or being eaten by a magnificent creature? Slowly wasting away, getting weaker and sicker every day and everybody forcing you to fight it when you just don’t have any more fight in you? Watching their eyes go all liquid and…
Last month for Book Club we read Karen White’s The Night the Lights Went Out. We were all enamored with the story of Sugar Prescott, about whom not nearly enough was told. So I decided to breathe a little more life into her. This one’s for my girls. When I won the election for mayor, my brother Harry very nearly lost his mind. He had always been a vexation to my spirit, but he became downright unbearable. I wasn’t about to bake brownies and call nice, he should be treating me to a celebratory dinner at the nicest steakhouse in three counties. But we all knew THAT wasn’t going to happen. He even tried to run a a smear campaign against me!! Like there’s any dirt to be had that he could tell on me without incriminating himself. And that mealy mouth ninny he married! Trying to get me, Sugar Prescott, kicked out of the Country Club? Foolishness. There wouldn’t have been a country club if it hadn’t been for me begging Daddy to donate the land so we could have a nice tea there every once in a while. Where else was I supposed to throw Willa Faye’s showers? The basement of the Credit Union? No, no, no. Anyway. Ten years after that nasty business with Curtis that we do not speak of, I somehow found myself in the thick of uncovering some…
Yesterday, I discovered another habit I don’t like in people. This should surprise no one. But not to worry, I’m gonna counteract it with something I do like. I don’t like these people that you’re having a conversation with, and after about ever two sentences or so, they say, “okay?” like you’re not smart enough to be following. It’s super annoying. I knew at his age he probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but I wondered how many other people had been angered by it. Yes, angered. It elicited that strong of an emotion in me. So much so that I stopped listening to him, which probably just enforced his opinion of me being an airhead. But it seemed extra condescending. I just wanted him OUT. He was asking me about taxes. Brother, I don’t even do my own taxes, I’m certainly not qualified to give you advice on yours. How ’bout you ask the accountant that you pay to do them? How ’bout that, okay? I’ve also found this type to pointedly sniff the air when it’s obvious what is cooking. Or if someone is painting their nails or doing a craft. Yeah, we get it. there’s an aroma. Now. On the other hand. Here’s what I like:when I’m gearing up to tell you…
{WP#858 Working nights has exposed you to a different view of the world} Now, this is true. Once upon a time, in a land about 200 yards from here, I worked “midnights”. It opened my eyes whereas before they had been most decidedly shut. When you work third shift, you get a completely different mindset. Everything about you changes. I’ve heard that working thirds for an extended period shortens your life. I believe it. It’s hard to make all the people around you become accustomed to your new schedule. You have to alter doctor’s appointments (well, any appointments, really), shopping trips, and of course sleep patterns. And when you’re off for more than a day, your schedule really gets warped. Suddenly you realize there’s a whole crew of people just like you out there, the night owls, either by choice or force. You may have already guessed, but this was during my time as a 911 dispatcher. 911 never sleeps. And our job was to wake the firemen, paramedics, rescue, and policemen to get to you. Typically when the phone rang between midnight at six, something bad was going down. Not so many accidental cell phone calls in those small hours. Not so many people calling saying, “I’m not sure this is really an emergency….” these callers were legit in a mess. I remember one night the phone rang at like two…
