To Teach or Preach? A Nagging Question

Everyone has been in a situation at one time or another where the expression: Those who can, do; those who can't, teach. It has something to do with practical and applied knowledge. There are some situations where the this phrase should be rephrased: Those who can do; those who can't, preach.
Some of the things I can do and teach or preach: sew on a button, scramble eggs without getting them stuck to the pan, fold and put away clothes without wrinkles (that's a teach/preach ), the proper way to load the dishwasher ( a definite preach!) just to name a few.
Things I can teach but can't do: the double knot on a shoe. The kids' shoes stay neatly tied; I on the other hand, have been known to stop during a walk to retie my own. Drive stick shift; it's been rather difficult for me to get the hang of simultaneously using the clutch, accelerating, shifting all the while keeping the car from hopping down the street before dying out; but my son got the hang of it after a few instructions from me. My dream of driving that little red sports car will never be realized. Car repair is something I know absolutely nothing about, but I do know that if the engine needs looking at there is no need to take a hammer along.
All this talk about cars brings me to the ultimate teach/preach situation: the teenager learning to drive. The day the youngest daughter finished the classroom part of driving lessons we headed to the DMV for the learner's permit. Once she had that in her hot little hand she slipped behind the wheel of my car. I should mention here that my car was just four weeks old. We headed to a parking lot for her first lesson. That would seem to be the safest place to put into action what was taught from a book....ya think? I didn't realize what is in a parking lot. For one, there were the parked cars; then I noticed light poles, a mailbox, and a bike rack. Right in the middle of the lot was an island of trees and shrubs; and more parked cars. Did I mention my car was new and still had the sticker info on the back window? I was pretty calm when the car lurched forward then screeched to a halt and we had only left the parking stall. After five minutes of that we switched positions and I drove home. She slammed the car door, stomped her foot , and cried, "I'm never going to drive with you again!", went into the house and slammed that door, too. Little did she know that we would do this again tomorrow.
I often wondered how many parents have had to force their teenager to get behind the wheel. I couldn't let her insecurity (or my teaching skills) get in the way. This second day was proving to be a repeat of the first. I have to admit she didn't believe that my clutching the door handle ("do you think that instills confidence ?" ) or whispering, "omigod" under my breath ("if you're going to swear I'm not driving") was because my life was flashing before my eyes. I must confess that I may have overacted a bit because at this point we hadn't even left the driveway. I promised to try to relax and not be so....um.... vocal. It must have worked because in about a week she was asking if I needed to get anything from the store and she'd be happy to drive.......at 10:00pm!
Behind-the-wheel was going along great. The test for her license was scheduled for her sixteenth birthday. The plan was to leave school and not to tell anyone. When the big day arrived we were in the middle of an unbelievable snow storm. There was so much snow coming down school was cancelled for the day. The DMV didn't cancel tests and we arrived as planned. She passed with flying colors; the only negative comments against her were that she didn't warm up the car while scraping snow off the windshield. It seems the tester didn't like getting into a cold car.
Now she is driving everywhere; on the highway, several counties away, places her sisters would never have dreamed of going as new drivers. She has become a good driver (must be that great teacher she had). After several months it was time to get this girl a vehicle of her own. I was getting tired of driving her to and from school and she had a job now; there was insurance to be paid. I also didn't like being forced to stay home even if I had nowhere to go because she had my car.
The other day we had a few errands to run and I usually do the driving but suggested she drive this time. After we left the third store she asked if I'd like to drive her car. It's a thirteen year old Buick Regal. It must have been really something back-in- the- day because it still is pretty nice; although there is no CD player or cup holders there are still a lot of upgraded features. She is very proud of her car and wanted to show it off to me.
I slipped behind the wheel adjusted the seat and was ready to go. I had no idea what I was in for. My car doesn't have much "play" in the steering wheel and was immediately told to stop "playing" with her steering wheel. When I came to the stop light I was glad I had on my seat belt, "can you stop a little easier? You could cause whiplash!" As I pulled into traffic I learned that you're not supposed to cross the solid white lines and are expected to always use the directionals, "even if there isn't a car behind you." I thought I was saving the life of the little light bulb. When I switched lanes in the intersection I was reminded that the rule says you shouldn't do that. My comment: "you mean there are rules for this?" was not taken in the spirit it was said. When we reached the parking lot of our next destination I was yelled at for driving "helter-skelter" (sounds like something I must have said to her during the "teaching" phase). I guess I'm just not up- to- speed; it's those darn "rules of the road"! I got out of the car, slammed the door, stomped my foot and cried, "I'm never going to drive with you again!". She tried to hide it, but I could see the smile on her face as I gave her the keys. We did our shopping and then went out for ice cream. My daughter did the driving.

Apple Slices Sound Good About Now

I've been in situations where things are not going as I would expect and I just let out my feelings. Probably not the coolest thing to do; you know, the sales clerk that won't return an item without a receipt even though the tags are still attached or the driver in the next lane that drives so slow making it impossible for you to pass. I suppose I've even uttered that four letter word and tossed in a hand gesture or two when I felt the times was right. After either getting my way or still making a scene I've found myself somewhat remorseful for my actions and have decided it was time to change my ways. Before you go patting me on the back or giving me the high-five let it be known the intention remains the same it's just the words that I'm changing.
My plan is to communicate my fascination, displeasure or disgust without the object of my disdain being aware of the fact. "Frickin" or "fudge" is now accepted as a softer version of the real F-word; everyone between the ages of 4 and 104 knows what you're really saying. So I've decide to try my hand at complicating the act of communicating.
Did you know you can smile and say "idiot" without moving your lips? Try it. See, it's easy and it comes in handy at times; the times are when you are having to deal, with an idiot. There are other times when a smile and unmovable lips will not do. You're in a hurry, spotting the shortest checkout line, you rush past the old guy breathing with an oxygen tank and nearly trip over a toddler pushing her own stroller just in time to see the clerk put up the "This Lane Closed" sign. "Aw Sugar!" is too close to the real thing and there is a toddler present. I now prefer, "Apple Slices!" "Darn it" is too commonplace, I'm beginning to like the sound of "Donuts!"
Let's get creative. Everyone knows OMG is omigod, but do they know over my gardenia? You may to utter a few more syllables but you've got them thinking. "Falsify" could be the substitute for the proverbial you-know-what word, and "Brown Shoes" can be the new BS. Ok, now you've got the idea. Crack open your Funk & Wagnalls and get started confusing everyone.

Call Me On the Texting Machine

Although typing doesn't make me fall asleep at my desk, I sometimes will type words in my head to help me fall asleep. It's kind of like typing with your eyes, but they have to be closed.
After all this time I have just noticed that the left hand has most of the letters on the keyboard; and they are the quality letters, you've got your a, e, r, s, and t. Most of those are "freebies" in the bonus round on Wheel of Fortune. Unless you use a lot of punctuation, I think the right hand is getting off easy. How often are brackets really used? Maybe an apostrophe, here and there. Quotations, sometimes. If you're not asking a lot of questions for those question marks, should you use two just for the fun of it??
"Back in the day" email used to be grammatically correct. As it has become the more common form of communication during a day, punctuation has fallen by the wayside. I really believe some young people don't even know what how to use a comma or period. The shift key is practically useless since capitalization has lost its appeal, even for names.

It seems just about everyone is using their cellphone to text. I guess as a parent I shouldn't complain, at least kids are reading and writing again. I have always considered a phone a device to use to talk to people recently I have stumbled over my own words and referred to it as a texting machine.

I personally don't text, but I do receive texts. Some of the lingo I know or can pretty much figure out: brb "be right back" , lol "laugh out loud", omg "oh my god", but it took me a minute to compute np "no problem". I was stumped when I saw nvm "never mind", ttyl, "talk to you later" should not be confused with ttly "totally", ik and jk "I know" and "just kidding" had me stumped.

I wanted to be in the loop so I went to an expert, the daughter. She gave me a tutorial in texting and here's what I learned?

hey 'sup nm...u? hw... super boring o tht sux ik... i h8 it

Now in English:
Hey, what's up? Not much, You? Homework, it's super boring Oh that's sucks I know I hate it

I am getting used to these shortcuts; so much so I've caught myself in text-talk. My coworkers look at me in confusion when I've thrown in an "Omg!" or "idk" "I don't know"

I suppose in the future the need for vowels, capital letters, and punctuation will all be a thing of the past, but then again so will I. Until then, adbb :) That would be "all done, bye bye" :) or (smile)

Here We Go Satellite Radio

When I bought my new car it came with free satellite radio for three months. Fine, I'll use it but there is no way I was going to buy it. I was not going to fall into that trap. It was nice to have though. I don't drive all that far to work but, quickly became used to it. There were so many channels. With a push of a button or command to the "lady" in the Navigation system, I could listen to any kind of music to suit my fancy. The reception is so good, I could drive from coast to coast and never change the station.

There are channels dedicated to any specific genre of music. It is possible to listen to The Big Band Hits of the 40's, or punch in the 50's and the First Decade of Rock 'n Roll or fast forward through the Awesome 80's to current Pop tunes. There are even what I like to think of as "sub" categories; Adult Hits of the Past, Easy Listening and, Classic Hits actually have the same "sound" to me. If I'm feeling rather funky I might switch to the Blues or Contemporary Jazz; if I'm looking for inspiration the Catholic Channel might fill the bill.

I can listen to the news or talk shows on free radio; I'm a subscriber! I pay to listen to music, and I darn well plan on getting my money's worth. I can tell you the latest on Brittany or Justin. But if you ask me about Obama's health care plans or what relief efforts are being sent to the victims of the latest natural disaster or what that disaster even is, I'm lost. I am useless at the water cooler. When everyone is wasting time at work talking about current events, I just fill my cup and go back to my desk. I guess it has kept me pretty isolated.

Driving with a teenager usually will find the Top 20 blasting from the speakers. I don't mind Hip-Hop but when she sneaks the Uncut/Uncensored Hip-Hop (because she doesn't have satellite in her car) I have to draw the line. I give her the look of shock, only to be told "that's the real world, Mom!"

Being in the car is a great place to talk to a teenager. I think it has something to do with the fact you don't have to look each other in the eye and the conversation is not as intimidating so I take this opportunity to have a discussion about raunchy language. Again, I'm told how this is real life and everyone talks that way. Fine, let's listen to what this fella (I'm corrected; that would be "gangsta" or the least "dude") has to say. Every time the F-word is sung, and I use the term "sung" loosely, very loosely, I shoot an eyebrow-raised glance, only to see a slight smile on her forward-staring face, as I try my best not to smile back. I go on to explain that the constant barrage of cuss words will only lead the listener to use them just as casually, too. That brought on a knee-slapping belly laugh.

She was no longer laughing when we arrived at the coffee shop and I ordered a f!@#in' latte without any g-d whipped cream. I thanked the be-otch as we drove away to the sounds of Traditional Country Radio.

Labor Days

During these difficult economic times I decided it would be a good move to update my resume in the event I would need to find another job. I hadn’t realized the countless number of jobs I have had; but there always seemed a good reason to move on.

My very first job was in was in a soda factory but my pop made me quit.

Then there was the string assembly line; my stomach was always in a knot.

I tried the Kite store but couldn’t get up in the morning and being an elevator operator was bringing me down.

Selling shoes wasn’t the answer, I put my heart and sole in to that, although I did leave very well-heeled.

At the office supply place I didn’t see the point to selling pencils and I was constantly tripping over stationary objects.

With so much to do at the yacht company I couldn’t seem to keep afloat.

My job at the bakery was a piece of cake even though there were too many crumby customers.

I volunteered at the local animal shelter but found the people there too catty.

I took a job at the dry cleaners; the wrinkle there was that the work was too pressing.

I even considered being a farm hand but that would be a tough row to hoe.

The mirror factory made me take a good look at myself. It wasn’t until I was at the cosmetics firm that I decided to make up my mind.

I will be self –employed! Now I work at nothing all day.

The Reason there is SA: Shoppers Anonymous

There was a football game my daughter and her friend wanted to go and since it was pretty far they asked me to drive; first we had to get some food.

We stopped in the Pick 'n Save for a sandwich and a drink. That sounds simple enough and for most people it might be, but for someone who rarely shops, it's a challenge. We made our way to the deli and choose a sub sandwich. It was huge! There was enough to feed all of us and the homeless guy we befriended on the way in.

I didn't need a cart; all we came in for was a sandwich and drinks. But those cookies with the frosting on were too much to pass by. Each of us needed something to drink and after picking out the chips (how can you have a sandwich without chips?) I picked out a second drink (how can you have chips with bottled water?).

Since I wouldn't be able to brush after eating, I knew gum would be the next best thing. The problem was I didn't go for that "just brushed feeling" and passed over the Dentyne and picked up watermelon Bubble Tape and some Big League Chew. These smaller items were making it hard to hold the sandwich. I excused my way through the check-out aisle (can you see where I'm going with this?) and got a cart.

Once I put my stuff in the cart I couldn't get back in the check-out so I had to make my way through the store. The fresh produce was calling me and I picked out raspberries, a watermelon and some kiwi (haven't had those in ages). Working my way through dairy I had a craving for peach yogurt and chocolate milk. Turning a corner I found some brown shoe polish and I always wanted a Swiffer. The dog collars were so clean that I couldn't resist; the bright red one would look great on my black and white dog.

By this time my daughter and her friend are getting impatient because now we will be late for the game. I headed for the check-out, unloaded the cart, threw a People magazine and TV Guide onto the pile. The Three Musketeers, a Milky Way, magnifying glass with flashlight and a road map ("mom, you have a GPS!") had to be it; the checker had the total, my bill came to $62.83.

I thought I should probably get gas but there was no way I was going near the mini mart this evening.

Every Kitchen Has One or Two or More

My coffee is hot as I sit down to make out my things-to-do list and realize I need a pen . The mug with the pens didn't have the one I prefer to write with so I went to the junk drawer to get one. Every kitchen has, or should have, a junk drawer; we have four. I should probably qualify that: we have four that we use for junk; I'm not sure if that was the description of the drawers in the kitchen when we were buying this place; probably some fancy name like utility drawers or extra- space- in- the-kitchen drawers, but in this house it's definitely junk drawers.

When I opened the first drawer I found fourteen new pencils that I knew would never be sharpened. They had various advertising and slogans from events and places visited; these were souvenirs never to be used for writing. There were six highlighters ; who highlights anymore? Five markers and some cutesy notepads. I pricked my finger on something appropriately named "thumbtack" . The rest of the package was stuck in the back of the drawer. These weren't even thumbtacks but upholstery nails! Where did those come from? I found a dog brush, paper clips, and tape; athletic, duct and scotch. There were six different kinds of scissors for cutting nails, (people and animal), hair (again, people and animal), fabric (pinking shears) and get this, even paper! And if you know a kindergartner, I have a pair with rounded tips.

The counter top is really getting cluttered with all these piles of things. I've been tossing stuff into the garbage can and realize I have to bring it closer or I will have a lot of sweeping to do afterward. I have found gum wrappers, broken rubber bands and several stick pens that had chewed tops (got to keep the orthodontist in his BMW), nail files that have passed their usefulness and glue sticks that don't have any glue left. I was beginning to think this drawer had a name after all: Garbage Drawer. There was hope though and I renamed it the "Stationery-Craft Drawer".

Naming the next drawer was easy. The three screwdrivers, a hammer, pliers and electrical tape made this the "Tool Drawer". I found a thirteen piece Allen wrench set. It made me think: why not twelve or fourteen pieces? Couldn't "they" come up with another size of Allen screws? Actually, this doesn't really matter since this set had three missing wrenches so I have a ten-piece Allen wrench set. I found the coolest pointer thing. It was like an extendable car antenna but in its own case, the paperclips stuck to it suggest it also has a magnetic tip. I wonder where that came from, who's it was and what's it for. The neat little piles on the counter have become a mess. It's on to drawer three.

This one could be a combination of the Stationery-Craft Drawer and the Tool Drawer; the extension cords, nails, paper clips, broken crayons and pens were the dead giveaway. I decided this was unacceptable and moved the stuff to their respective drawers, garbage can and two of the extension cords were going to the work shop. In the back of this drawer were four plastic, scribbled-on pencil boxes from each child when they no longer needed them for school. Let me explain why I still have them. The boxes may look messy but they are still good enough to hold things and hold things they do. Can you say "pack rat"? The first was filled with, you guessed it, pens and pencils. I'm sure some of the ink is still good but don't have the time to test each one. I did throw out the chewed pencils and stubs. The next box had batteries and birthday candles, the third had scissors and more pens. The last- but- not- least box had games pieces, an egg timer, Christmas light replacement bulbs, a pair of left-handed scissors (we are all right handed) and more pens. I closed the last box...... and the drawer.

The fourth drawer was hard to open. Something was caught. After struggling a few moments I freed the drawer with all my strength and nearly fell on the floor. A crumpled folder with past school assignments was the culprit. I should mention that these assignments were from my now eleventh grade daughter's first quarter of eighth grade! You see I found early on it was important to keep the work for at least a semester; nine times out of ten the paper I threw out was the one we needed for some reference or another. It looks like in the second semester of eighth grade it was no longer all that important to save assignments. I did find a drawing from fourth grade that should have been tossed years ago but since I've had it this long I didn't have the heart to throw it out now; it's on the keep pile. The schedule for the last band concert did find a place in the garbage can along with a broken Pez dispenser. What was an ice pick doing in here? Who even has or uses an ice pick nowadays without an intruder lurking in the bushes outside?

I'm scratching my head as to why there were three pairs of shoelaces in there. Who buys shoes laces anyway? By the time the laces wear out the shoes are probably ready to be replaced. Clean laces on old shoes scream: GOODWILL!!! I found a ziploc bag with pumpkins on it that was too cute to throw away so I filled it with a bunch of wine corks. Yes, wine corks. I once saw a cool serving tray in craft shop that I think I can duplicate. It may take a while since I'm the only one drinking the wine around here and in the meantime a wine cork can come in handy for making a Hobo beard at Halloween. You just never know; a neighbor might call looking for help with their kid's Halloween costume this year.... or maybe next. I'm still in drawer four where I found those things that go around hot coffee cups. Trying to be on the "green" side of life I want to reuse them the next time I go to the coffee shop, the problem as I see it is that I have about eight of them in a rubber band sitting in a drawer. At this rate I could have about a dozen more by the end of the month and it looks like I may flunk out of "green" school. I will put them in the car.

I've been at this drawer clean up for nearly two hours! The counter is full of stuff so I pull in the daughter to go through her things and make some decisions; keep it (in your own drawer, in your room) or I toss it. She sees the old band concert schedule in the garbage can and I hear an "awww". Something in that long ago performance brought back a fond memory. Now, if she would just stay out of the garbage garbage and go through the stuff on the counter! I have been told that the geometry report has to be kept and "the Pez dispenser is cute". (stay out of the garbage can!!!) Why she won't take her Chapstick and hair bands to her room is beyond me. She is proving to be of no help whatsoever. I send her on her way and shove everything from the counter back into drawer four!

As I look around the kitchen I count eight more drawers that need going through but the energy is gone. I know it has to be done but I don't want to throw out the ratty dish towels right now or get the crumbs out of the silverware drawer today. These drawers will have to wait for another time.

I'm bushed and my back hurts; I've got to sit down. Back at the table, feet up on a chair, with cold coffee, I'm ready to get started on my list......... but I need a pen!