TRADING STAMPS

During my recent attempt at downsizing,  I found three yellow TOP VALUE STAMPS. 

These were similar to S and H Green Stamps, but TV Stamps were issued by Kroger. I was an avid collector of the different stamps issued by stores. Several friends and I would trade stamps but the TOP VALUE Stamps were always my favorites. I would give 2 S and H Green Stamps for 1 TOP VALUE Stamp.

I wonder why "trading stamps" were discontinued; obviously they were not profitable. They were a "big deal": there were even "redemption centers"; Gerald and I went to Columbus to "redeem" TV Stamps for our first bathroom set which included matching hamper, shower curtain, waste basket, rug, and commode cover. All of the "prizes" were top-notch brand names.

When I was a child, I remember that my mother collected Wilson Milk labels and she was able to acquire some nice items. I was very disappointed when the Betty Crocker catalog was discontinued several years ago because I had acquired many nice things from there including Oneida flatware and Beleek objects.

At my wedding shower one of my most prized presents was a completed book of TOP VALUE STAMPS.

WOE IS ME

The first time I used the phrase, "How big do they grow women where you come from?" was in response to a male boss telling me and another woman, "You girls take that cart back to salvage." 

Harold, who was a recent transfer from Kentucky, looked startled and asked, "What does that mean?" I said, "Your calling me a girl is just like calling a black man BOY!" He said, "Ah (I) didn't mean to be offensive; ah (I) figured it was a compliment." I responded, "Your thinking that's a compliment is even sadder--I've worked very hard to become a woman!" 

Later on, when I went into management, Harold and I became friends and he had many admirable qualities (such as choosing me to be a supervisor) and having a great sense of humor.

He would always pronounce woman as "woe-man", exaggerating the "wo" part of woman; one time when he said it, I commented about our regional speech differences and he laughed and said, "Ah (I) say it like that because you are WOE TO MAN!"

I forgive almost anything if a person is funny!

WHITE LIE

THIS IS FROM MY FRIEND MONA LISA:


Have you ever told a white lie? If you have, you are going to love this, especially all of the ladies who bake for church events.

Alice Grayson was supposed to bake a cake for the Church Ladies' Group Bake Sale in Tuscaloosa, but she forgot to do it until the last minute. She remembered it the morning of the bake sale and after rummaging through cabinets, she found an angel food cake mix and quickly made it while drying her hair, dressing, and helping her son pack up for Scout camp.

When she took the cake from the oven, the center had dropped flat and the cake was horribly disfigured and she exclaimed, "Oh dear, there is not time to bake another cake!" This cake was important to Alice because she did so want to fit in at her
new church, and in her new community of friends. So, being inventive, she looked around the house for something to build up the center of the cake. She found it in the bathroom: a roll of toilet paper. She plunked it in the center of the cake and then covered it with icing.

Not only did the finished product look beautiful, but it also looked perfect. Before she left the house to drop the cake by the church and head for work, Alice woke her daughter Amanda and gave her some money and specific instructions to be at the bake sale the moment it opened at 9:30 and to buy the cake and bring it home. When the daughter arrived at the sale, she found the cake had already been sold. Amanda grabbed her cell phone and called her mother.

Alice was horrified--she was beside herself--everyone would know! What would they think? She would be ostracized, talked about, and ridiculed! Alice lay awake all night in bed thinking about people who would be pointing fingers at her and talking about her behind her back.

The next day, Alice promised herself she would try not to think about the cake and would attend a fancy luncheon/bridal shower at the home of a fellow church member and try to have a good time. She did not really want to attend because the hostess was a snob who more than once had looked down her nose at the fact that Alice was a single parent and not from the founding families of Tuscaloosa, but having already RSVP'd, she couldn't think of a believable excuse to stay home.

The meal was elegant, the company was definitely upper crust old south and to Alice's horror, the cake in question was presented for dessert! Alice felt the blood drain from her body when she saw the cake! She started out of her chair to tell the hostess all about it, but before she could get to her feet, the Mayor's wife said, "What a beautiful cake!"

Alice, still stunned, sat back in her chair when she heard the
hostess (who was a prominent church member) say,

"Thank you, I baked it myself."

Alice smiled and thought to herself, "God is good."

A WOMAN'S IDENTITY

In "feminist" writing, it is a sad commentary that there are only three stages in a woman's life because women did not have their own identities as they were always dependent on a male for their own identities. The three stages are:


1. SOMEBODY'S DAUGHTER
2. SOMEBODY'S WIFE
3. SOMEBODY'S MOTHER

Reminding me of my own personal insignificance and lack of identity, the saying didn't hit home for me, until one day, in talking to a teenager, she asked, in awe, "Wow, you mean that you're Derek's AUNT?"

"GRANDMA CLOCKED AT 102 MPH"

"GRANDMA CLOCKED AT 102 MPH" was the headline on my MSN home page.

WHY is it that nearly every time women of a certain age are arrested the newspaper articles are prefaced by some version of "grandmother", usually "grandma";  I have seen this kind of gender bias numerous times in newspapers and other media, but I have never seen a similar headline about "grandpas".

What could being a grandmother have to do with her speeding? NOTHING. The article revealed that she is 72 years old and that she was late for a hair appointment. Would there have been a feature if it had been a 72-year-old grandfather? OF COURSE NOT!

Who cares if offenders are grandmothers? Does it make the offense worse because they are grandmothers? Does it make the article more interesting?  Is it unexpected behavior?  Why the gender bias?

It's a good thing I'm not a grandmother or my latest traffic offense might have been front-page news!

FUNGI PRAISE

There are currently some large fungi growing in the backyard (see picture with the 18-inch garden gnome) which I know are technically mushrooms, because they have a stem and a cap, but they are the "parasol" kind, which every source warns are poisonous.  I know the textbook difference between mushrooms and toadstools but Mother would never collect wild mushrooms;  she referred to all the wild fungi as "toadstools" (toadstools have that name because the German word for death is "tode").  She grew mushrooms in our "upground cellar" to use in her cooking.

Gerald and I love mushrooms and I have prepared numerous varieties including Shiitake, Portobello, Crimini, Enoki, Porcini, and, of course, the common button mushrooms, but none of those have compared to the delectable taste of wild Morels. I so wish that I could feel safe hunting and finding Morels.  The only times I ate any wild mushrooms was when a friend would hunt them and he would request for me to fry them because he said I did a better job of frying them;  his wife was happy for me to perform the task and the reward of eating the Morels was worth the labor.

I use mushrooms in a wide variety of dishes, but our favorite is as an appetizer: pan-fried using egg and Panko coating. We also like Sautéed Balsamic Mushrooms which we have more often because it is easier and faster to prepare and is also much healthier than the pan-fried mushrooms. I prefer the Cremini (baby bella) mushrooms for this dish.

See the cartoon from The New Yorker.

My favorite mushroom joke: A mushroom walks into a bar and the bartender says, "Get outta here, we don't serve your kind in here." The mushroom asks why and the bartender says, "Because you're a dirty filthy thing; look at that dirt all over you." The mushroom says, plaintively, "But I'm a FUN GUY!"

JOHN AND ANNIE GLENN

At a political meeting tonight, we were discussing several politicians and I mentioned the following article which I first published in 2010 in Sue's News:

    "DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO BUY YOU A NEW COAT?"

Yesterday, in Chillicothe, I was honored to once again be in the company of John and Annie Glenn. From his first campaign for the U.S. Senate to his helping in the 2008 Presidential campaign, I have been fortunate to have met the Glenns numerous times, but today was my favorite encounter.

Naturally, people were crowded around Senator Glenn and I spoke to Mrs. Glenn and asked if she would autograph a picture of herself and Senator Glenn. The photograph is from a 2006 publication, The Road To Blue.  Mrs. Glenn looked at the picture and said to me, "I'm wearing the same jacket in that picture as I am today."   I said, "Well, it's a classic--it never goes out of style--and red is YOUR color."  She said, "Oh, how nice of you to remember that."

In all of the campaigns and appearances I had seen her, she always wore red. She laughed and said, "And I'm wearing the SAME eagle pin and the SAME blouse!" She pointed to the necklace in the picture and said, "And I almost wore that necklace today, but I put this scarf on to keep warm!"


Mrs. Glenn beckoned for Senator Glenn to come over to us and she said, "Look, John, I'm wearing the same jacket today as I was in this old photograph."

Senator Glenn asked, "Does this mean I have to buy you a new coat?"

CLASSICS never go out of style--in clothes or marriage--as the Glenns displayed in their seventy-year union!

BRICKYARD

My brother asked me to reprint this article, first published in Sue's News in 2010:

SOMETIMES YOU NEED A BRICK

During the winter, we would have bales of hay placed around the house for insulation. Around and on top of the hay, my mother would put bricks. Over the winter, the bricks would be strewn about and in the spring, we would have to pick up the bricks and stack them beside the well house. I would always grumble about the bricks and suggest we get rid of them but my mother would always answer, "Sometimes you need a brick" and we did use the bricks for a lot of things: door stop in the summer, a brick and a hammer to crack nuts, shards for flower pots, etc.

My mother would often tell us how brave her sister was because she never screamed out while in labor and her sister bore her six children, all at home. Mother told us that when my aunt was ready to have one of her children, it was in "the dead of winter" and the house was very cold. Mother heated bricks and put them in the bed to keep her sister warm during the labor. My aunt pushed the towel off one of the bricks and touched her foot on the hot brick.. Mother said all that she did during the labor was complain about the burn on her foot instead of the pain of childbirth.

When I was to be married, my mother wrapped up a brick with a note that read, "The first brick for your first house." I laughed, wondering what I would do with the brick, but my husband and I have used that brick to crack hickory nuts every year for my Thanksgiving specialty Hickory Nut Cake.

Each time I host a wedding shower, I also wrap a brick with the note which reads, "The first brick for your first house" and then I have the guests play a game called "Sometimes You Need A Brick" and I tell the story of my mother and then challenge them to list different ways to use a brick. The best one is always "HUSBAND TAMER".

Last year, when my husband wanted to repair the brick walk in the front yard, he wanted to be able to match up the old bricks. He wondered where he could get old bricks. I told him I would call the current owner of the farm where we had lived to see if they had disposed of the bricks. When I spoke to him, he laughed and said, "I wondered why there were all those bricks around the well house." I laughed and said, "Sometimes you need a brick!" He told me that I was welcome to have the bricks. I had not been back to the home place since 1973 and I was overwhelmed by both sadness and happiness. I asked if I could see inside the house and I was somehow touched to see that my room, with the beautiful sycamore tree growing outside, was still "the girl's room". 

As I stood at the well, I was flooded with memories as I remembered my younger brother going off to war, my older brother going off to be married and the worst day for our family in October, 1964. I remembered my first date when my brother thought it would be an absolutely hilarious thing to be waiting on the porch with a rifle. Imagine that that guy actually returned for a second date and ended up marrying me! I sat down in the stairway where my then boyfriend (and future husband) and I sat and watched the moon landing. We'd had a contest of what would be the first words Armstrong would utter and my husband's contribution was "Goddard, we are here!" which was his homage to Robert Goddard and J.J. Pershing! I remembered how we sat on the couch in the "TV Room" on June 7, 1971, and decided to get married. 

It was good to see the paw paw tree, the elder flowers, black berries, the woods, and the flowers still growing which my mother had planted, and the garden space which she had tended. As my husband was picking up the last of the bricks, I retrieved one and said to the owner, "Keep one of the bricks and tell your daughter that it's the first brick to her first house."

CALLOUSED

When my husband and I were on our honeymoon we were snuggled together and I slid my foot against his calf. He asked, "Sweetheart, aren't you going to take off your house slippers?" 

As I wasn't wearing house slippers, I realized that I should have taken advantage of that "spa day" that my girlfriends had suggested and had those calluses removed!

SHE CAME UNGLUED

Last week, I was sitting in the waiting room at the Same Day Clinic. A woman sat down beside me and she had both arms bandaged and the ends of the bandages kept unraveling. I offered to help her fix the bandages and I asked her what had happened. She told me she was there to have them re-bandage her arms.

She told me that she was trying to loosen the lid from a bottle of Gorilla Glue and she had put the bottle in the microwave. When she removed the bottle, it exploded, causing 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degree burns on her arms, hands, and neck. 

She showed me minor burns on her neck and upper arms but her bandaged forearms had serious burns. Fortunately, she had been  wearing glasses, and her eyes were not injured.

"HOWDY, AUDIE!"

We were at a restaurant recently and our waitress introduced herself as "Audie" and I asked, "Is that spelled A-U-D-I-E?" She answered, "Yes, you're the only person who has ever spelled it correctly!" I said, "It's just like Audie Murphy." She said, "I know about him but I've never met another Audie." I told her there's an actress named Audie England. She said, "Wow, I've never heard of her."   

I asked if she thought it were difficult having an unusual name and she said that it was because it was seldom spelled correctly. She said that most people say it like an owl.  I screeched, "Howdy, Audie!"  [Sorry, but I couldn't resist using "screeched"] 

Gerald said, "I thought it was like the car Audi!"  i  told her that my friend Franchen had never met anyone with her name; my niece Deya had never met anyone with her name and my friend Fayetta had never met anyone with her name. I then told her that Oprah had met another Oprah.

Audie gestured toward a waiter and told us that his name was Brandon and that he was her partner and that if she weren't close by, to tell Brandon if we needed anything.

Brandon was serving two tables and he kept telling the customers useless tidbits about himself and his family. I learned that he and his siblings had been reared by a single mother and about his football experiences. He made a mistake on one of the customer's order and had to summon the manager. He kept apologizing profusely and telling them words of wisdom from his mother: "If you're gonna do it, do it right."

He kept suggesting menu items to both sets of customers. I was eating my soup when he said that they should consider the "Mussels de Napoli" except that he pronounced it
"Mussels de NUH-POLE-EE!" and then he asked them if they knew what mussels were. That's when I did a spit-take with my soup!

He continued imparting more of his mother's words of wisdom as he had "CONVERSATED" with her earlier that day.

He told one customer that he was the "ONLIEST" one in his family to go to college.

Later on he said that something was in "THE EXACT SAME PLACE".

When Audie came to complete her service, I asked, "Audie, do you have a few minutes to talk?" She scanned her tables and said, "Yes, of course; what did HE say to my customers?"

I explained that I didn't want to cause Brandon any more trouble as I was certain the manager was already upset with him, but that he needed to learn to act appropriately. I told her, "Please tell him how to pronounce NAPOLI if he's going to be condescending to customers by asking if they knew what mussels are and please tell him that CONVERSATING and ONLIEST are NOT real words and that IN THE EXACT SAME PLACE is redundant and customers don't want to hear about him. Audie nodded and said, "It's  ALWAYS about the customer unless the customer asks about them!"

ID 10 T

The following was sent to me by my friend Mona Lisa:

          THE SILVER SURFERS

As we Silver Surfers know, sometimes we have trouble with our computers.

I had a problem yesterday, so I called Eric, the 11 year old kid from next door, whose bedroom looks like Mission Control, and I asked him to come over to help.

Eric clicked a couple of buttons and solved the problem.

As he was walking away, I called after him, "So, what was wrong?" He replied, "It was an ID ten T error."

I didn't want to appear stupid, but nonetheless inquired, "An ID ten T error? What's that? In case I need to fix it again."

Eric grinned and answered, "Haven't you ever heard of an ID ten T error before?" I replied, "No."

"I'll write it down, and I think you'll figure it out.", he answered.

So, he wrote down:

ID10T

I used to like Eric, the little shit head.

RECITATIONS

The following article is from Sue's News from April 18, 2016:

                           HARDLY A MAN IS STILL ALIVE

My friend Vivian Thomas and I have been known to do impromptu recitations.  I understand that students of today are not required to "recite" as part of their schooling.

Last year on April 18, we were at a political meeting.  Before the meeting began, I looked at Vivian and asked, "Are you ready?" She gave me a look of disgust, immediately sensing my plan.

At the end of the meeting, the Chairperson asked, "Are there any further remarks?" I stood and said, "Vivian Thomas and I would like to do a recitation."

Vivian is truly amazing; she recalled more verses than I and I think we learned it in the 6th grade.

Please read the words of The Midnight Ride Of Paul Revere and listen to the recitation. I believe the recitation by Vivian and me was more forceful.  I wish I had a recording of our performance.

SPEAKING OF PURSES

After yesterday's article, I recalled this question was posted on Facebook: "WHEN YOU COME HOME, WHERE DO YOU PUT YOUR PURSE?"

When I come home, I put my purse in the shoe basket by the door. I seldom carry a purse as I put my debit card/credit card in "the safe"--my bra--I sometimes take my wallet with me in restaurants to be able to have money for tips--but my bra will only hold so much.

I cannot tolerate women setting their purses on my kitchen and dining room tables or on my counters. When it occurs, I diplomatically pick up the purse and place it somewhere else where we do not eat or prepare food. One time a woman picked up her purse and put it back on the table. Obviously, diplomacy went out the window.  I told her of the dangers and especially since I had a tablecloth on the table and not just bare wood that it was doubly dangerous of contamination.

I throw my purse in the back floorboard of my car. I see women set their purses in shopping carts and on the floors in restaurants and I've also noticed women setting purses on the floors in public restrooms.

Dr. Oz had several audience members bring their purses to be swabbed and the women were shocked to learn of the hazardous organisms present on their purses. Dr. Oz asked them where their purses had been setting that day. One told how she had set her purse down on the floor in a public restroom. That purse had evidence of feces on the bottom of the purse; you can imagine the staph and other organisms on that purse! I do not want THAT purse or any others on my tables. Of course Dr. Oz warned them of having their purses on surfaces where food is prepared or eaten.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 201

PURSE PURSUIT

In 1968, my purse was stolen from my locker at work. At that time, in my purse I had my license, SS card, one credit card, and $42.00.  Fortunately, the theft happened on Saturday and the store with the credit card wasn't open on Sunday (remember the Blue Laws?).  It was time-consuming to replace the SS card and license. Amazingly, weeks later, the purse reappeared in my locker--with everything intact--minus the $42.00.

Since that time, I have been very careful. I never carry my purse into stores or restaurants; I always pay with debit or credit cards in stores and restaurants. I carry the cards in what my husband calls "the safe" (my bra); I only carry a purse to weddings, funerals, etc., where I need something to hold my keys and personal items.  It is ironic that I rarely carry a purse, because I adore purses and being a "matchy-matchy" kind of gal, I want my purse and shoes to match.

If one is going to carry credit cards, etc. in a purse, here are some guidelines:

Always have credit cards, driver's license, and medical cards in separate holders. If using a wallet, never have a wallet/checkbook combination, as thieves usually go for the wallet if they are in a hurry. My niece carries her credit cards in a compact, as she thinks thieves won't go for makeup. Keep a list of your credit card numbers and 800 numbers to call, driver's license and medical card copies AT HOME in a safe place. NEVER carry your Social Security card or birth certificate in your purse. Do not hang your purse on the back of a chair in a restaurant; always keep it between your feet on the floor.

Recently, I was at Kroger and a woman ahead of me had her open purse in the cart. She left the cart and went around in front of the cart and then bent over to pick up something from a bottom shelf; when she arose, I told her that she shouldn't leave her purse unattended. She told me it wasn't any of my business and walked off in a huff.

Sometimes "a word to the wise is sufficient" doesn't apply.

ALARMED

This article was sent to me from my friend Mona Lisa.


If you hear a noise outside your home or someone trying to get into your house, just press the panic button for your car. The alarm will be set off, and the horn will continue to sound until either you turn it off or the car battery dies.

The next time you come home for the night and you start to put your keys away, think of this: it's a security alarm system that you probably already have and requires no installation. Test it. It will go off from almost everywhere inside your house and will keep honking until your battery runs down or until you reset it with the button on the key fob chain. It works if you park in your driveway or garage. If your car alarm goes off when someone is trying to break into your house, odds are the burglar or rapist won't stick around and after a few seconds all the neighbors will be looking out their windows to see who is out there and sure enough the criminal won't want that. Remember to carry your keys while walking to your car in a parking lot. The alarm can work the same way there.

This is something that should really be shared with everyone. Maybe it could save a life or a sexual abuse crime.

This would also be useful for any emergency, such as a heart attack, where you can't reach a phone.

Everyone should carry their car keys with them in case they fall outside and they wouldn't be able to call for help. People could hear the car alarm and would probably investigate.

ANNUAL CHECK-UP

I was with my doctor reviewing the results of my bloodwork. All of the results were good but when he got to the kidney function he said, "This is great--you have the kidneys of a 17-year old!"

Gerald had driven because we were going to lunch after the appointment and when I got to the car, I told him what the doctor had said about my kidneys and my husband said, "Don't you think you should give them back to the 17-year old?"

PARASKEVIDEKATRIAPHOBIA OR TRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA

This is reprinted from Sue's News from 2017: 

     FRIDAY THE 13TH

Each year there is at least one Friday the 13th;  2017 with two;  2012 and 2015 had the rare occasions of three dates of Friday the 13th;  there will be two in 2018.

As I am NOT superstitious, just for giggles and grins, I always say that 13 is my lucky number.  

                          PARASKEVIDEKATRIAPHOBIA

Recently a friend told me that I was incorrect in writing that TRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA is the term for the fear of Friday the 13th;  the actual correct word is PARASKEVIDEKATRIAPHOBIA.

See the article from The Urban Dictionary:  I especially like the last line:  "Though it has a serious use in psychology, it seems to exist mostly to provide an opportunity like me to show off  weird words from classical languages."

TRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA

Fear of the number 13.  

Strictly, the word does refer only to fear of the number 13, but it’s often extended to mean fear of the inauspicious date Friday 13th.  Every year has at least one Friday the 13th.   The word’s origins are all Greek, from tris, “three”, kai, “and”, deka, “ten” (so making thirteen), plus phobia, “fear, flight”. The word is a modern formation, dating only from 1911 (it first appeared in I H Coriat’s Abnormal Psychology). Though it has a serious use in psychology, it seems to exist mostly to provide an opportunity for people like me to show off weird words from classical languages. I'm triskaidekaphobic (no I'm not).

SCENT SCAM

My friend Mona Lisa sent this article to me after she had received it from a friend.  It's a good warning.

This is something that happened to us on the way back from vacation last week. At first I didn't think much of it until now. The reason we were a little suspicious is we had been riding in a Jeep all day with 100 degree temperature and we stopped at a truck stop for something to drink. When I was leaving, a young girl followed me out and asked what kind of cologne I was wearing. Well, after seven hours in the car sweating, I don't think you could tell if I was or was not wearing any cologne. About 3 weeks ago, I was at a service station in Birmingham getting gas. It was about 9:30 pm. I was approached by two men and two women in a car. The man who was driving asked me, "What kind of perfume do you wear?" I was a bit confused and I asked him "Why?" He said, "We are selling some name brand perfumes, at cheap prices." I said I had no money.

He then reached out of the car and handed me paper that was laminated; it had many perfumes on it. I looked quickly at it and gave it back. I said, "I have no money." He said it is OK, we take check, cash, or credit cards. Then the other people in the car began to laugh. I just got in my car and left.

I received this email yesterday and it sent chills up my spine. Please read this. Here is the email I was sent:

Dear Friends: I know not all of you are women that I am sending this to, but I am hoping you will share this with your wives, daughters, mothers, sisters, etc. Our world seems to be getting crazier by the day; pipe bombs in mail boxes and psychos in parking lots with perfume. Be careful. I was approached yesterday afternoon around 5:30 PM in the WalMart parking lot by two males asking what kind of perfume I was wearing. Then they asked if I'd like to sample some fabulous scent they were willing to sell me at very reasonable rate. I probably would have agreed had I not received an email warning of a "Wanna smell this neat perfume?" scam. I told them "No thanks!"

The men continued to stand between parked cars; I guess to wait for someone else to hit on. I stopped a lady going towards them, pointing at them and told her about how I was sent an email at work about someone walking up to you at the malls or in parking lots and asking you to SNIFF PERFUME that they are selling at a cheap price or at least compare to which one you like best.

THIS IS NOT PERFUME; IT IS ETHER!

When you sniff it, you'll pass out. They'll take your wallet, your valuables and heaven knows what else. If it were not for this email, I probably would have sniffed the "perfume" but thanks to the generosity of an emailing friend, I was spared whatever might have happened to me. I wanted to do the same for you.

NEVER SELF CHECK OUT

A friend sent the "NEVER SELF CHECKOUT" article from Facebook.

Recently I went to my favorite local grocery (which is a union shop) very early in the morning and the only available check outs were the "self checkouts";  as there is always an attendant standing at the end of the self checkout area, I addressed her by saying, "I will never use this;  if someone doesn't come to wait on me, I shall go to the horrible WalMart which I try to boycott!"

The attendant came to the checkout and performed the work.  I asked to see the Manager, but the Manager was not available that early.  I asked to see the Union Steward and she revealed that she was the Steward.  She agreed with me that she didn't like the self checkouts, but she had no say-so in the decision.  I said for her to relay my great displeasure to the Manager.

I did get in contact with the corporate office but I also realize that it was an exercise in futility.

IN PRAISE OF MERCUROCHROME

In yesterday's article I mentioned my mother's use of mercurochrome which launched a family remembrance.  The following article was published last year:


      MERCUROCHROME AND MERTHIOLATE, ET. AL.

On Facebook, a friend posted a picture of a bottle of mercurochrome with the caption:  "Share if you remember this.", which suggested that one were old if one did remember.  

HOW did my mother do it--rear eight children--with none ever taken to the hospital?  We had our share of injuries but fortunately there were no broken bones;  Mother treated everything.

I am recalling the medicine cabinet which housed mercurochrome, merthiolate, iodine, alcohol, antiphlogistine, flax seed, sweet oil, castor oil, camphorated oil, Unguentine, Resinol, Ben-Gay, Vicks Vapo Rub, cocoa butter, Epsom Salt, a Styptic pencil, and of course, her home remedies--which she created from spices, herbs, and other plants--all good for what ailed us.

I remember how "pretty" I thought the color of mercurochrome was and I would always request to that Mother apply it rather than the dreaded iodine.  I keep a number of those products (flax seed, cocoa butter, Epsom Salt, and even Vicks Vapo Rub) but I actually wish I had some others of the old products--such as antiphlogistine--which the best POULTICE ever.  I will have to see if it's still produced.  

Below is an article from 2004 titled WHAT HAPPENED TO MERCUROCHROME?:

Dear Doc:

I had skin surgery recently and was told to apply Mercurochrome to aid in scar less healing. The product, once widely available, is sold by only one vendor in Boise, and I'm told they manufacture their own. Another pharmacist told me they were not allowed to handle or sell it. What happened to this antiseptic that I grew up with?

— D.Y., Boise, Idaho

You're dating yourself, pops. Few under age 30 have ever heard of this stuff. In 1998, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration declared that Mercurochrome, generically known as merbromin, was "not generally recognized as safe and effective" as an over-the-counter antiseptic and forbade its sale across state lines. A few traditionalists complained: "Whaddya mean, not generally recognized as safe? Moms have been daubing it on their kids' owies since the Harding administration!"  But the more reasonable reaction was: It's about time.

For many years the FDA, faced with the task of regulating thousands of pharmaceuticals and food additives, many of which long predated federal oversight, has maintained the so-called GRAS (generally recognized etc) list, originally compiled as a way of grandfathering in products like mercurochrome that had been around for ages and hadn't hurt or killed a noticeable number of people. Recognizing that from a scientific standpoint such a standard left a lot to be desired, the FDA has been whittling away at the unexamined products on the GRAS list over time. Mercurochrome and other drugs containing mercury came up for scrutiny as part of a general review of over-the-counter antiseptics that began in 1978, and for good reason--mercury in large enough doses is a poison that harms the brain, the kidneys, and developing fetuses. While no one has offered evidence of mass mercurochrome poisoning, the medical literature contains scattered reports of mercury toxicity due to use of the antiseptic, and these days the burden of proof is on drug manufacturers to show that their products' benefits outweigh the risks. In the case of mercurochrome and many other mercury-containing compounds, that had never been done.

The FDA initially proposed clipping mercurochrome's GRAS status in 1982 and asked for comment. Hearing little, the FDA classified the antiseptic as a "new drug," meaning that anyone proposing to sell it nationwide had to submit it to the same rigorous approval process required of a drug invented last month. (This took place in 1998--nobody's going to accuse the FDA of rushing to judgment.) It's not out of the question that a pharmaceutical company will do so someday--published research on mercurochrome, though hardly abundant--suggests the stuff is reasonably effective. However, the approval process is time-consuming and expensive and any patent protection mercurochrome might once have had surely expired long ago. For the foreseeable future those yearning for that delicious mercurochrome sting will have to look somewhere else.

OOOOO-OWWWW-EEE

When I was a kid, we had no air conditioning or fans in our house and our windows were always open in the dog days of summer. We had screens in some of the windows, but not all. I was sitting in an open widow and my brother gave me a little shove--I had my lips to a glass of pop I was drinking--as I fell, the glass broke and cut through my tongue.

What to do? Mother looked at it and since she couldn't put mercurochrome on it--she just stuck some gauze in my mouth--and waited for the bleeding to stop. [Do they still even have mercurochrome? That, along with Ben-Gay, camphorated oil, and Unguentine, is how we survived. No doctors or hospitals for us.]

I was on a liquid diet for several days. I felt like Tom Sawyer as I wanted to charge for people to look at the hole in my tongue.  My tongue healed but I was left with the indented scar on my tongue.

When I was working at International Harvester I kept losing my voice because I was trying to be heard over the decibel level in the plant. After going to a series of doctors, I was referred to an otolaryngologist. 

The doctor who treated me had an interesting history as she had escaped during the Hungarian Revolution against USSR and was able to emigrate to the United States and transfer her credentials.   As she was examining me she asked, "Are you an epileptic?" I answered that I was not. She told me that it was common for epileptics of my generation to have similar scars on their tongues. She went on to explain to me that they used to have large safety pins that they used to pin the tongue to shirt collars during seizures, causing the tongues to be ripped. OOOOOWWWWWOOOW!

I had to learn to project my voice over the noise level to prevent the laryngitis.

TUESDAY, APRIL 27, 2010

LAAAAAARRRRRY

You've all met a person like Larry--the person who has done everything you have done--only better; a person who has been everywhere you have--but with better accommodations; a person who knows everything--just ask him. Larry was annoying, insufferable, and totally clueless that people could not tolerate him. He was called "Senor Avion" (Mister Airplane) behind his back because he acted as if nobody knew how to build airplanes as well as he did. He was constantly bragging about his years with other aircraft companies and letting everyone else know that he was far superior to them. He constantly put down others in an attempt to show his brilliance. One time he asked me why I hadn't nominated him as "Employee Of The Month" because he knew he'd done a far better job than the winners that I had nominated. He even told me that he would write the nomination for me to submit. I said, "Oh, Larry, I've seen samples of your writing and I couldn't possibly use those."

The guys who worked for him were constantly setting him up for ridicule. Larry always had the need to join in with the others even though they didn't want him around.

Near the end of the Contract all the people were worried about where they would find work, but Larry kept boasting that he was already receiving offers and that he would have no problems because Boeing, McDonnell-Douglas et.al., all wanted him.

One day, the guys were in a group and they saw Larry approaching and they knew Larry would want to be a part of whatever conversation they were having. They had planned the latest "get Larry" episode and they began talking about having sex with farm animals. One guy bragged about which animals he had violated, and poor Larry, not realizing that he was being set up, took the bait and started telling what he had done to surpass them The guys all started laughing. From then on, whenever one of those guys would see him, they would make sheep sounds.

One of the guys came to me and said, "We're taking up a collection and we'll give all the money in the pot to you if you will JUST go up to Larry and say "LAAAAARRRRY" (making a baa-ing sound). I said, "There's no way I could do that." The guy pleaded, "Oh please, Sue, you know you're as tired of him as we are!" Every few days, one of the guys would come up to me and tell me how much money was in the pot and they would tell me they would donate the money for a big party or to my favorite charity if I would JUST do it.

One morning, at the beginning of the shift, Larry came to me, (and since he loved an audience, he made certain there were a number of guys around) as he announced to me that he was giving his notice because he had landed a fantastic position with "Douglas" and Larry couldn't help himself; as he continued, he JUST had to tell me that he felt sorry for ME because, unlike HIM, it would be so hard for me to get a job like mine with another company because I lacked years of aircraft experience.

I just smiled, put out my hand to shake hands, and as he took my hand, I BLEATED, "Good luck, LAAAAARRRRY." The other guys heard it and erupted in raucous laughter. Larry said, "I'm going to report you to Human Resources!" I said, "Go ahead, LAAAARRRRY, and I'll tell them that I grew up on a farm."

I admit that was totally unprofessional of me but so much fun.  The guys brought me the pot containing  $249;  the next day at lunch we had pizza, subs, and for my fait accompli:  gyros containing LAMB meat!  

To this day, I cannot hear the name Larry without thinking LAAAARRRRY!

FAR AWAY

How far away from home have you been when you have encountered someone you knew,or someone recognized you, or you learned the person was from Washington Court House, or had a connection?  My friend Larry Chapman featured a BLOG article about the topic regarding people from Greenfield.

In the 1970s I was in Gayfer's Department Store in Pensacola, Florida, Christmas shopping with my niece.  As it was a Federated Department Store, I was able to use my Lazarus credit card there.  I mentioned to my niece that I had seen an item we were looking at in Lazarus at a cheaper price.  A woman close by asked, "Are you from Columbus?"  I laughed and answered that I was from a place she'd probably never heard about--Washington Court House--and she said, "I'M from Court House!"

That was the beginning of a 35-year long-distance friendship. Although she was from Washington C.H., she actually lived in neighboring Fort Walton but she had family still in Washington C.H.  I would deliver items to/from her relatives and she would do the same for me.  We always called them our "Care packages";  there were items (such as Mikesell's potato chips and Aunt Jane's pickles) which were favorites of my brother and not available in Florida which she would deliver.

We would see each other when I was in Florida and when she was in Ohio.  

Sadly, I lost my friend several years ago.  She would have been 74 years old today.

METATHESIS

Recently, a friend (who was born and reared in Oregon), and I were together at a function when another attendee said the word "ideal" when he clearly should have used "idea";  my friend and I exchanged pained expressions, and she whispered to me that she thought that only happened in her former locale.  I said that I thought it was just peculiar to my area.  She said, "There's a word for it--METATHESIS."  Thrilled with hearing a new word used, I was soon off to my computer.

Metathesis:  noun:  "transposition of letters, syllables, or sounds, in a word, such as the  pronunciation of "comfortable";   I guess metathesis does not apply to the "ideal/idea" quandary.

With a little research, I learned that the usage of "IDEAL" for "IDEA" is usually a problem mostly in the northern parts of the United States.  My brother asked, "What's the difference than people saying "IDEAR" for "IDEA" in Massachusetts?"  I said, "That's just a regional dialect;  they know that IDEA and IDEAR are the same word;  they just pronounce it that way." My favorite comment about "Boston accents" was when there were gibes about JFK's pronunciation of "Cuber" for "Cuba":  my brother said he had to use the "R" he'd left out of "Havard" (Harvard)!

I no  longer quiz people about the peculiar usage;  however, several years ago, I talked to a friend because she says ideal for idea.  She said that her family also says that.  I asked, "Didn't anybody ever tell you the difference?"  She was confounded and after my saying "idea", she would repeat "ideal";  then I was confounded and asked, "Do you know they are two different words with completely different meanings?"  She stated that she could not hear the difference.

I read that it was the same problem-- with people who say "AKS" or "AXE" for "ASK"--that they cannot HEAR the difference.

My brother quipped, "What about Presidents who don't know the difference between nuclear and nucular--whatever that is?"

SHOULDA/COULDA/WOULDA

I drove through Plain City recently and I wondered how I had been able to drive all those years to Marysville for work. I passed what I called the "Flower House" which used to be quite lovely with all of the flowers so beautifully tended; there are still flowers there but now they are scraggly. I recalled the day of my seeing a petite Mennonite woman in the yard and I turned my car into the driveway; I got out and told her how much joy her flowers gave me every day. She smiled sweetly and we toured her garden and she told me about all of her different flowers and how she had planted them according to size and blooming season. She told me that I could come back later in the year and she would give me seeds but that was in May and I left the job that month and did not return to the area very often. Today, I so wished I had returned to get some seeds from her.

That was a SHOULDA/COULDA/WOULDA moment.

One day I was driving through Bloomingburg and it was spring and I noticed that my grandmother's daffodils were blooming. I stopped and knocked on the door of the current owner of the house and I asked her if I could return in the fall to dig some of the bulbs and of course, I offered to pay her. She told me that I could have some of the bulbs and that I didn't have to pay. I am so glad I returned and got some of the bulbs; I planted them at our first house and this fall I am going to dig them and bring some of them here.

I'VE BEEN TO THE MOUNTAINTOP

Today marks the fiftieth anniversary of the assassination of The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.  His "I've Been To The Mountaintop" speech was delivered April 3, 1968.

Please listen to the speech one more time.

I ONLY GET TO USE THE WORD "JOCUND" ONCE A YEAR!

This is an article from last year's Sue's News..  I only get to use the word "jocund" once a year!


                                                                JOCUND COMPANY

My daffodils are blooming;  I am a happy girl.

As Wordsworth wrote in Daffodils:

"A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company"

and

"And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils."


(picture from my kitchen table;  four varieties of daffodils from my yard)




DAFFODILS

                                                                     
                  by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering, dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle in the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay
In such a jocund company;
I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought;

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

50-YEAR DEBATE

This year marks the fiftieth anniversary of Stanley Kubrick's 2001 A Space Odyssey.  My husband and I saw the movie in 1968 and this truly great movie (and deservedly rated in the Top Ten Greatest movies on nearly every critic's list) has caused a 50-year ongoing debate between Gerald and me, about the "meaning" of the movie.  I believe that the monolith (tychomagnetic anomoly--tma--1..2..4) is God and Gerald states that since Clarke was an atheist, that cannot be the meaning. We debate the "Star Child", HAL, and nearly every aspect of the movie.

The best thing about the movie is it piqued his interest in classical music. He wore out the movie soundtrack record and we had a tape and now we have a CD of it. He now loves Ligeti, Strauss, and Wagner. As Kubrick is our favorite director, we went to see A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Barry Lyndon , Full Metal Jacket, and Eyes Wide Shut, and he appreciated the classical music Kubrick used.  Gerald had not been fortunate enough to see the older Kubrick movies: Paths Of Glory, Dr. Strangelove, Spartacus, Lolita, The Killing, Killer's Kiss, Seafarers, Fear And Desire, Day Of The Fight, and Flying Padre, but thankfully, Netflix had all of them and we staged our "Kubrick Festival" at home.

When we saw Platoon, Gerald leaned over and asked, "What's that music?" I answered, "It's Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber." He said dismissively, "I think that Oliver Stone's copying Kubrick using classical music."

Over the years, he has been pleased to learn of classical music in other films: Bach from Slaughterhouse 5 and The Godfather; Pachelbel from The Godfather;  Mascagni from Raging Bull;  Mendelssohn from Breaking Away; Debussy from The Right Stuff;  Vivaldi from Kramer Versus Kramer; Wagner from Apocalypse Now; Bartok, Ligeti and Penderecki from The Shining; Shostakovich from Eyes Wide Shut; Rossini, Purcell, Elgar, and Beethoven from A Clockwork Orange; Shubert, J.S. Bach, Mozart, Handel, Parsiello, and Vivaldi from Barry Lyndon.

Gerald had never seen Fantasia until it was re-released on its 50th anniversary in 1990. What a veritable treasure trove of discovery: Dukas, Shubert, Beethoven, Stravinsky, Punchinelli, and Tchaikovsky.

I told him the definition of an intellectual: a person who can hear The William Tell Overture and NOT think of the Lone Ranger; I also told him an intellectual is someone who can listen to Also Sprach Zarathustra and NOT think of Promise  margarine.