Joyanna Adams

Nobody's Opinion

Christmas Dancing in the Snow With Irishmen

Nobody Flashes

This song simply HAS to be played today…for me.

I was talking to one of the men putting in my patio door today, an Irish looking guy. Our old one cracked into tiny pieces. We had been putting tons of pillows and curtains and boards up to keep the cold out, so we were pretty excited to get a new one.

It’s a three paneled door, and we had been waiting for 2 months for it to be manufactured and then installed. It was only 57 degrees here today, warm for December, so the door installers said they would be coming by 10.30.

To say I was excited is an understatement.

10.30 passed.

11.30 passed.

12.30 passed.

1:30 passed.

2:30 passed.

Where were they? I thought.

And then the head guy called and said they’d be there by 3.pm

3:30 passed, and they arrived at 4:30. It gets dark at 5:pm here, so I was surprised when they apologized, said they had trouble at the first job, and jumped in to repair our patio door, which by the way, is three huge glass panels and takes up a whole wall.

5:30 PM, they got the old frame out…and all of us: the three contractors, my husband, and I…went quiet.

There, underneath the frame, were THOUSANDS of termites.

Quickly we got an old can of termite spray from the house, and Justin, the man in charge sprayed the whole can on top. I ran up to the local hardware store and bought more cans.

What to do now?

Justin said, “Well, we’ve got to put the door up, otherwise you have a whole wall with nothing there. You need to get an extermination, and we need to come back TAKE the door down, replace the rotten wood, and put it in right.

Now, it’s dark out, and getting cold. And I said, “Well, 2017 has NOT been kind to us.”

First, our garage door opening stopped working.

Then, our 64 inch big screen TV, the only one we watch, died.

Then our basement flooded. It was completely finished off. Bedroom, pool room, bathroom…bar…everything had to be repaired. We had to tear out the rugs, rebuild the walls, and put up new drywall.

Then, our oven died. It was a wall oven, and my husband and I had to try to “lift’ the new one in all by ourselves. Labor would have been $500, never mind the expense of a new wall oven.

The electrician for downstairs still hasn’t given us our bill. We had to rewired most everything.

And then…the sewer line backed up. Good thing all the rugs were already torn out. But, because whoever built the house did not leave room for a ‘line’, they had to remove the toilet downstairs to clean out the sewer backup.

Anyway….there was more stuff, MUCH more, it’s just that my mind is trying to BLOCK the rest out.

So, back to the story. I was telling them what a bad year we had. And then, like Christmas magic, we all bonded in silence. The working class. The WHITE working class men mostly, making the world go round, and yet, each day a struggle.

And one young guy shook his head. “Yeah, it was a bad year for me too.”

“Well, make us feel better.” I said. “Tell us your bad deal.”

“My fiancé broke up with me. I found her with another guy.” He has spent $6,000 for a ring. She gave it back but he only got $350 for it when he sold it.

“Her big loss” I said. And I meant it. Then we all told him he was lucky it happened BEFORE the marriage and no kids were involved. Surely, I told him, he would find another.

Just ordinary Americans. These guys were the good stuff. The good stuff that this country was built on. And every time I hear Hillary trash white people, I…well…where’s that termite spray.

Trump, is…so right.

Tonight, I opened a Christmas card from my neighbor who lives three doors down. I was supposed to get together with her, and do something last March, I called her, left a message, but she never called me back.

Being my typical self, I told my husband, “Well, I guess she’s just doesn’t like me.” and tried to just shrug it off. (That never really works, does it?)

But then, the reason why she never called became clear: Our phone number has been changed (she’s right) and she has stage four ovarian cancer most of the year, and is going through chemo.

What’s a few termites compared to cancer?

We sat on the long bus rides to high school together. She is the only girl who ever laughed at my jokes.

Cancer. Horrible.

So, THAT’s why I’m posting these very happy drunk Irishmen.

Join me, and toast! To the Irish Rovers!

To my favorite Irish man! (He knows who he is.)

To all the termites in my house! (Your days are NUMBERED SUCKERS.)

And to President Trump! May he defeat the swamp with swiftness and bold American bravado.

God bless the Good King of Christmas!

And God bless all you who read me, and wonder when I’m going to drive myself crazy.

I’m already there…dancing in the snow with Irishmen.

Thank you for your help, and your kind emails.

I don’t think I could have made it through 2017, without you.

Okay…another glass? These guys are too much fun!

God bless freedom loving people on the planet wherever they are! The tyrants will be defeated.

They always are…so…

Tonight, I dance with the drunken Irishmen.

Care to join me?

 

December 16, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Nobody Loves You Like A Dog

Nobody Flashes

Dog lovers will love this.

It’s got to feel good to come home to this much love.

Enjoy!

December 15, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Nobody Flashes: A Father’s Wedding Gift…Laughter and Wisdom

Nobody Flashes

I was going to wait until Sunday to post this, but after reading my columns all week, I think a good laugh is in order.

This father is great. You can bet, that when “God” takes this father, they will need to find a bigger church.

If you haven’t seen this: You’re missing one of the greatest father’s wedding speech of all time:

Enjoy!

(Thanks to Tom Beebe)

November 24, 2017 Posted by | humor | , | Leave a comment

Salvador Mundi VS Ketchup

Nobody Flashes

While the universe was obsessed with sex scandals, other fun news was happening.

It almost seems impossible, that a Leonardo Da Vinci would show up out of nowhere, and depict the most famous person in all of history: Jesus Christ, but it did.

This painting was thought to be a hoax and once sold for $60 dollars, and then, it was discovered that it was the real deal and a Russian bought it, and paid about $174 million for it, so he made a nice profit. Somebody bought it for $450 million.

Since Mona Liza is the most famous painting in the world, Jesus certainly gets the bigger bang for the buck.

Gasps rippled through the Christie’s auction house. And then cheers. “Salvator Mundi,” a 600-year-old painting by Leonardo da Vinci, had just sold for $450 million.

Most of us have seen a lot of picture of Jesus, but even looking at it on the internet, I have to say, it’s probably my favorite. Still, why would the Russian sell it?

Fake or not, it’s beautiful.

And then you do have the real fake…a painting that has what I like to call it the “Hillary Clinton” effect. It’s a painting done with Ketchup. A painting that even a 4-year old could pull off, and some fool paid $50 million for it.

So, what FOOL paid $50 million for a canvas of Ketchup that he could have done at home for under $50?

I guarantee you, it was a liberal fool, because THIS is how the liberals described it:

Red is the colour of wine, but also of blood, and these canvases encompass both the sensual pleasure and violent debauchery associated with the god. This contrast is echoed in the paintings’ combination of euphoric loops that soar upwards and vermilion floods of paint that ooze and cascade down the canvas. The unfurling gestures of these paintings were made, like Henri Matisse’s works in old age, with a brush affixed to the end of a pole, which lends them their vitality and scale.”

Well, I have ketchup ooze and cascade down my hamburger too. What a bunch of BS hooey. Sounds just like a liberal: conning you to buy their paintings just like they con you to buy their politics. With big fancy words of description meaning absolutely nothing.

And these people rule the world.

I want to know who bought both paintings, don’t you?

I HOPE the Vatican bought the Da Vinci. It should be among the most valuable treasures. It should stay in Italy.

And the Ketchup? Well, one thing for sure…it wasn’t President Trump.

Now, if it had been GOLD cascading….

November 17, 2017 Posted by | Life | , | Leave a comment

Before Hurricane Irma, There Was Donna, and My Dad

Nobody Knows

I called my best friend from childhood yesterday because of the news of Hurricane Irma.

Janet lives in Naples, Florida… the town I grew up in. We were best buds all through grade school. Funny how your grade school friends never seen to leave your heart— Right? I adored Janet because she would laugh at me whenever a horse stepped on my foot. We’d go horseback riding a lot.

“Move your big foot!” she would yell, and then laugh at my pain.

Janet lives alone now in Naples, and laughed about my concern with Irma seeming to hit. The reason being, that Naples has NOT been hit with a really powerful Hurricane since Donna.  Somehow, while Miami got Charlie, Andrew, and so many others, Naples was always spared.

Janet just laughed. “Hey, we are all used to Hurricanes down here.” She said. “And my house has all the latest Hurricane building codes.”

Janet worked all her life in real estate, so she knows a lot about the building codes.

“But hey, remember Hurricane Donna?” I said. “Naples is due.” She just laughed.

Yes, we both remembered Hurricane Donna. It was 1960, and we were both kids. I remember my father had told me that at certain points during Hurricane Donna, the winds hit up to 200 mph. At least that’s was the report, back then. The records now say that wasn’t true, but then again, my father was a X Sea-Bee and he wouldn’t make that up. He must have heard it on the radio at the time. 

I also remember my dad laughing and telling stupid jokes, as we huddled in our little tiny one-story house, to ride out the storm. He told us that he had designed the house to withstand hurricanes. And we had a big front glass window in the living room, which of course, was boarded up. He wasn’t worried one little bit. He went around smiling, all through the storm. Closing windows at certain times, opening others at certain time.

All through the rain hitting the house, and the howling wind, I secretly wondered if he was crazy.

My father spent the time putting golf balls into plastic drinking cups on the living room floor during the first part of the storm. My mother on the other hand, was minute by minute, close to hysterical.

The contrast couldn’t have been more noticeable to a kid. Which parent had it right?

You see, we watched, from my bedroom window, our next-door neighbor’s house’s roof VERY slowly, being peeled away from its foundation…and it took quite a while. It wasn’t like a tornado, no, Donna’s wind peeled that roof like it was a sweet delicious apple to enjoy. It took a good half an hour for that roof to finally fall on the front lawn.

June, the lady who lived there, was a Seminole Indian, and one of my mother’s best friends, so that’s probably why mom was unhinged…and June was 9 months pregnant.

After the roof was destroyed, we watched through our bedroom window as June, and her husband Arnie (Full blooded Italian) and their two small children, were holding on to each other, bending against the hurricane, step by step, trying to get to our house. Sometimes they got knocked down by the wind. Each step took them a good minute…. but they NEVER let go of each other. Just two people walking to our house in the middle of a Hurricane that powerful is probably one of the most amazing feats of strength I’ve have ever witnessed.

Arnie was a good 200 pounds, and he held on to his young 5 years old son’s hand, Ricky, pulling him through the air, as the kid’s feet didn’t even touch the ground, with his right hand.

With his left hand, he held tight to his wife, June, who had their little girl Lindie in her left hand, and in her right hand, she had a huge trash bag full of…food. The huge bag of canned food probably helped them all from getting blown away.

It took them a good 30 minutes to walk across the pavement to our front door, in 150 MPH winds.

I remember my mother screaming at her to put down the food! Of course, June couldn’t hear her. She did NOT let go of that bag. She wasn’t going to ask for food from my mother.

They weren’t the only people seeking refuse in our house. We had many families come from all over. I remember It took about five men just to close the front door, after they arrived. People were everywhere.

As soon as June got through the front door, she collapsed. My mother kept telling me that she was afraid that she might have her baby. She was running from room to room… unhinged.

Like I said, my mother was hysterical.

But not my dad. When the eye came he turned to my brother and I and said, “Hey, want to go outside and walk around?”

“YEAH…yes!” we said with delight. (Probably trying to get us away from June and my mother.)

Of course, when we went out our back door we saw that ALL The trees surrounding our property had been completely leveled right down to the ground. It shocked me terribly. Today I recognized that same scene from Russia being hit by a comet in Siberia. They were…really…flattened. Hundreds of pine trees, palm trees, every tree…. flattened.

But then, I saw my brother scramble up a log and start balancing and climbing, and it was FUN! We played for about 45 minutes, hopping from tree to tree, and my father kept telling us that we were in the middle of the eye, as we asked him about the quiet, and he just walked around and calmly looked at the damage.

We were having so much fun, and didn’t want to go back in, but we also knew that the storm was coming back.

Dad wouldn’t lie.

The good news is, the last hour went by quickly, and after the storm had passed, all the men in the town went out to help survivors, just like they do now. Naples had been demolished. Ft. Myers, just 30 miles north, had lost 75 percent of its buildings.

And June did not have her baby that day, but delivered another daughter two weeks later. My mother recovered.

All of Naples was rebuilt, and our house remained untouched. The trees grew back. Years later, after we had moved to Missouri, I went back to the house that I grew up in Naples, and couldn’t believe how really small it was. The house that my father designed to withstand a hurricane and that had protected a neighborhood, had a small kitchen, a living room, a carport, (which did not blow off) three small bedrooms, and one tiny bathroom, which scorpions loved to hang out in.

(Good thing my feet didn’t touch the ground sitting on the John.)

Now I’m more frightened of tornadoes than hurricanes. In fact, all through my 20’s I had nightmares about them. The lesson from Donna: Hurricanes you can plan, and survive—tornadoes, can take you by surprise.

Many times in my life, I often wondered how my dad had the fortitude to be so calm, and brave, and confident in Donna, while everyone else was in panic.

It wasn’t because of ignorance…no. He knew we would all be safe, and that’s because he prepared, and because, he had served as a Sea-Bee at Iwo Jima, and other battles in the War.

A Hurricane compared to picking up dead buddies on the beach? To World War II battles? To my dad, Donna was just a bad day in paradise.

I never saw my father sacred in his life, except one time: When his grandson came home from the hospital.

A man can be brave in war, in hurricanes, but powerless when someone he loves is ill. Look at his face here…that’s my dad, scared for the future of his grandson. 

But that’s okay, that sick baby grew up big and strong, and idolizing his grandfather.

And one more thing: I realized that my father that day gave me a great lesson in how to deal with life: stay strong, stay upbeat, and fight the storm with courage. Help your neighbors.

It’s the American way.

And I’ve always did that, in my own worst scary disasters of life.

And THAT’s why fathers are so important. They teach us more HOW to face life.

With unspoken daily courage, and a good sense of humor.

So—- good people in Texas and Florida…just stay alive. Be prepared. Be smart. And hunker down till the storm passes.

In fact, I suggest, putting a few golf balls.

September 8, 2017 Posted by | weather | , | Leave a comment

Nobody Prays

Nobody Prays

President Trump declared this a National Day of Prayer.

So, this nobody prays for all the lonely hearts and the suffering going on today in Texas. (And the rest of the country for that matter.)  Let’s hope that the strength of God and the people of Texas pull through this.

If you don’t believe in God, then I feel sorry for you.

It’s much like…never having a child.

Unless you experience his (Or it’s spiritual) presence, you really never know what you’re missing.

So, I’m saying a prayer…that God helps us SAVE America.

And can I also pray that John McCain, Paul Ryan, and Mitch McConnell…get voted out?

Come on. Okay, how about term limits?

I’m taking Monday off, because my husband and I will be nailing 2x4s’s to concrete walls. We will have the usual. “WAIT..did you measure that before you installed it, and what do you mean I don’t listen to you?” husband and wife conversations that always make the day…less boring.

Everybody have a great Labor Day Weekend! I’ll be laboring, as most Americans will, and will see you back here on Tuesday.

 

September 2, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Happy Fourth of July!

Nobody Flashes

You know where I’ll be tonight…underneath the fireworks…underneath the moon and stars.

This IS my favorite holiday!

Everybody have a great day…no…have a fantastic one!

God bless America…and stand beside her….and guide her….(you know the rest.)

(Yeah, you HAVE to have music with the fireworks. It’s a must.)

If she managed to survive Obama, and the Clintons, she can survive anything.

That’s my nobody opinion and I’m sticking to it.

 

July 3, 2017 Posted by | Our Founders | , , | Leave a comment

Dad’s: What Would We Do Without Them?

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

June 17, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Nobody Wonders About Floors and Ceilings

Nobody Wonders

Here’s a few giblets of thoughts that were on my mind today:

Nobody Wonders: Why do I seem to be the only person who still marvels as a child when a plane full of overweight people and heavy suitcases, gets up in the air within a few seconds and within minutes is gliding smoothly at $35,000 feet? To think of all the HOURS of work put in by men, from the original Wright Brothers to the men who built the modern 747—-it just overwhelms me every single time I fly. I simply can’t help but feel in awe of what man has accomplished. My emotions never change whenever I fly. And I always wonder why…I seem to be the only person on the plane who feels that awe.

Everybody else takes it for granted. What the hell is wrong with me?

A frequent flyer sitting next to me on the flight back to St. Louis said that he had once flown in a plane that was struck by lightning. He also witnessed a stewardess being slammed into the ceiling on a bumpy flight. He mentioned these facts while we were flying through a lightning storm and it got pretty bumpy.
While a plane is statically safer than any car, not many people survive a plane crash. In a car, you have some control…in a plane, you are powerless.

Which makes me also wonder…it’s all how you look at things, isn’t it?

Nobody Wonders: Yes, here’s another thing I wonder about. I couldn’t wait to get back to St. Louis, and the trees. The plants in Arizona, while very pretty, were so DIFFERENT than the plants in Missouri, that you have to marvel at the difference between a cactus, and an oak tree. Both are plants, right? Arizona looks like Mars to me. Beautiful…but strange.

Both species of plants are simple mother nature. They developed to fit their environment. So, why can’t we admit how different races of people are? Are people not like plants?  Or does our brain go beyond mother nature? Is the theory of Thomas Sowell, who points out that the Africans did not develop as a race due to the geography of Africa, logical?

And why do they keep ignoring the true differences in men and women?

Okay. We all know it’s politics. Still, if I suggested that blacks are superior in basketball because they are tall and have a natural talent for it, and Jews are more cerebral, I would be called a racist. But since no one is equal, why do they keep insisting on equality? A dream which, scientifically speaking, cannot EVER be reached?

(Okay, we know the answer to that.)

Which brings me to Trump haters.

I was sitting next to a man of very high intellect on my way back to St. Louis. We had the most interesting conversation, but I found that our opinions of President Trump were very different. He saw Trump as a true narcissist. A typical CEO. So, this nobody wonders if he didn’t come to this conclusion, because the man DEALS all the time with big CEO’s, who he admitted, were all narcissists.

I saw Prescient Trump very differently. I saw him as a man who saw what was wrong with America and didn’t sound like a rehearsed politician.

Politicians talk a great game, but mostly do nothing. No matter what you say about the man, Trump prefers to ACT rather than talk.

Nobody Wonders if MY bias toward President Trump is because I do nothing but absorb politics all day, and have never had to deal with a CEO. I don’t have a high paying job, and I have had to watch the destruction day after day of my city, my town, my very neighborhood.

Therefore, as the song goes: “One man ceiling is another man’s floor.” or is it more:

“You’re right from your side, and I’m right from mine.

We’re both just one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.”

Nobody Wonders one more thing:

Why nobody in Arizona can give good directions? I think, it must be the heat.

 

June 17, 2017 Posted by | American Culture | , | Leave a comment

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

Nobody Flashes

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL GOD’S WONDERFUL MOTHERS!

May 13, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Jimmy Kimmel: A Mother’s Persepective

Nobody Remembers….

Jimmy Kimmel had the sympathy of the world this week, when he told the story of how his son was born with a defected heart, and then tears of relief came as he relived the scare and the pain of having to wait the three hours of surgery while doctors operated on his newborn son’s heart.

His son, is at home now and doing well.

And then, he made an emotional plea that all parents shouldn’t have to worry about the doctors’ fees and every child should have the chance to life. Did Jimmy Kimmel use his ordeal to promote Obamacare? Or universal health care? Or stop Congress from repealing it?

Yes.

So sorry, Mr. Kimmel, that you had to go through what millions of other parents all over the world go through almost every day, but here in America…no baby that is born and is alive is left to die.

Unless of course, your heart is beating and you are SUPPOSED to be aborted. Then the doctor can stab a knife in your brain and harvest your organs for sale for that lady at Planned Parenthood who wants a great sports car.

But that’s another blog.

Michelle Malkin wrote the best essay on this, but, I wanted to add a bit of my own.

The night my son was born, (Jan. 1980) it was pretty scary. The doctor had to take him by cesarean because I had a condition called Placenta Previa…which means, if you go into labor both mother and child could die.

Even though he had told my husband at the time, that he was NOT to get into any fights with me, the moron (my first husband) started a big fight with my father, and I went right into labor.

Years later I realized he did it on purpose, but that’s another story.

I went right into labor at six months…and was rushed to the hospital. 

I was also awake during the operation, and concerned, because my doctor had not slept in 34 hours. They brought my son over to me, and I said “Hi Sweetheart,” And then I said his name over and over… he just looked so beautiful, and then they took him away.

I remember yelling, “You did it Anastasio!” That was my doctor’s first name. But then, I must have passed out.

After they sewed me up, they put me in a room with another woman, whose baby was born with a collapsed lung. And then they told me, my son was having trouble breathing. I stayed awake the whole night, and nobody gave me any news, just that, because TWO babies had been born that needed help, they thought the baby with the collapsed lung was more concerning.

So, I laid there…awake the whole night. FINALLY, in the early morning, a German doctor who I had never met, came to tell me that my son had hyaline membrane disease, and he used his pull, to get him into Children’s Hospital, in St. Louis.

Later I realized, he saved my son’s life. The hospital was full, but he pulled it off.

The room was still dark, when TEN people brought him over to my bed. He was in an incubator. His arms and legs tied down, and he was on a respirator. When I saw his little body, I noticed that with every single breath, his stomach caved down deep, almost to his spine. He struggled to breathe with every breath.

They didn’t let me touch him. I couldn’t. “You might upset him,” they said.

Tell a mother she can’t touch her baby? It was like being told I only could live one more day. I’ve never wanted to do anything more.

He was in a big glass box, and then I told him to, “Be a good boy, I’ll see you soon…” EVERYBODY in the room, started crying.

Clearly, every one of them thought he would die.

But, I did NOT want to even think about that.

I was told an ambulance was waiting to take him where he could get better care.

When he left, I wanted to rush to see him. I was MAD because I couldn’t stand up. When you have a cesarean, they cut through seven layers of muscle, and you might think you don’t need that muscle to stand up, but you do.

The lady besides me was pumping out breast milk for her baby. But…I had nothing. My body and my soul just went into shock. The fact that I couldn’t produce milk for my son, left me feeling…well you can imagine.

NEVERTHELESS, every single priest that came into that room, I threw out. I told them “My son’s going to live.,’

And I prayed to God… “Please, PLEASE, don’t take my only son.”

They let me out within three days. It was a good 40 minutes’ drive to Children’s Hospital, but I went right down there the moment I walked out of that hospital.

The walk to the neonatal unit, when every step was painful, was hard, but I was so excited that I was going to see my son. I held on to my stomach the whole way. (My moron husband made me walk from the parking lot, which was quite a ways. It took a good 30 minutes.)

And there was my angel….all tied up, with that big hose down his throat… and I STILL couldn’t touch him. His arms and legs were tied down.  It was horrible to witness.  But, he wasn’t struggling to breathe, anymore, and he had color in his cheeks.

That’s good, I told myself. That’s good.

Every day I went, and I grew to trust and love the nurse who took care of him. SHE had confidence that he would live. And finally, one day, a young doctor said, “He keeps tearing lose his arms and legs, and trying to tear his respirator out. I think, he’s trying to tell us something, I’m going to risk taking it out.”

I was…so proud of him…clearly, he WANTED to live.

That’s my son. Strong. Smart. Determined, from the moment he was born. He still is to this day.

And I thanked God, for those nurses and doctors who saved my son’s life. As Jimmy Kimmel does here.

But here’s where Jimmy Kimmel gets it wrong.

My son was six and 1/2 pounds at birth at six months. While he was certainly in bad condition and lost a pound while he was there, there were at least five or six babes who weighted around 2 or 3 pounds. Some white. Some black. And nobody came to visit them.

Nobody.

It broke my heart. It broke the nurse hearts. Every day I would hope to see…someone care, to be there. But…nobody wanted them.

I visited my son every day in that hospital for a month. And everyday, I witnessed the care that those other babies got.

They were given the BEST care that anybody could ever receive. And none of them had insurance. Those doctors and nurses gave every single baby in that hospital the best of the best.

I stopped watching Jimmy Kimmel years ago. I thought when he got parents to steal the Halloween candy from the kids and then take video’s and send them in so the whole world could watch them cry, was beyond cruel.

It was NOT funny. It was just plain mean. And I NEVER forgave him for it.

Liberals like to talk about bullies and here was Jimmy Kimmel, bullying kids for ratings. I imagine he still does that stunt, so that’s why I don’t watch him.

So, let’s hope, that Jimmy Kimmel learned how PRECIOUS life is, since he found out, how quickly it can go.

Because, for every child he makes fun of and makes cry on his program for ratings…there is another child, who couldn’t be saved, and some parent somewhere who is watching that horrible joke and wondering.

What the hell is wrong with Jimmy Kimmel?

Children are precious.

Or did Jimmy Kimmel just get that message?

We’ll see.

 

 

 

 

 

May 4, 2017 Posted by | Obamacare, Uncategorized | , , | Leave a comment

Nobody Remembers the Gravestones of Lovers Never Made

Nobody Remembers

My parents, young and in love.

I had a ‘creative’ dream last night. In my dream, I created this beautiful engraved headstone for my parents, both of whom passed away many years ago: It was just ONE gravestone, but it was big enough to cover two graves. On the side, was a stone engravement of my father’s profile. And he was holding in his arms, his wife, my mother. And she was happy, and in love, and young, and cuddled softly in his arms. She was wearing her favorite checkered dress, and her high school saddle shoes. It was them, at the beginning of their love, when their love was fresh and new. Their names were engraved on the right of the stone: the stone replicas of them both…engraved on the left.

This huge headstone was so beautiful in my dream, I woke up and wondered why MORE gravestones of married couples aren’t seen in graveyards. All the graves are separate. Why not make just one gravestone for the couples who mate for life, to be remembered as mates for all eternity? I bet there are many couples that would love that.

I’m sure I had this dream because neither one of my parents got a traditional funeral. My father died first, and my mother donated his body to science. He died of a humongous brain tumor…we thought, naively at the time, that he would go to Washington University and would help the students study brain tumors.

After he died, I put together this big shelving, meant to hold various things…but it was, to me, his headstone. It’s in the kitchen now, holding up bowls and a popcorn machine, and NOW on the very spot where he died, there a statue of King Tut.

That’s my dad’s gravestone. King Tut. I think he would find that amusing.

My mom, also died in our house. She made me promise every day that I would NOT put her name in the papers, nor tell anyone about her death. She too, gave her body to science, hoping it would help someone. Like my father, she too suffered horribly in the last years of her life, paralyzed on one side as was my father. Both with massive damage from hemorrhagic strokes.

The day she died, I was sleeping next to her bed, passed out on the floor, exhausted from the night before. I had been up for over 40 hours trying to suction mucus out of her throat because she had pneumonia.

The nurses would not come.

I remember thinking when they came to take her body away, that there would be no place for me to mourn, and no one to remember her to me. No one knew she died. No one was there to console me, tell me stories about her that only they knew. My husband did the best he could, but now I know that funerals really are a special necessary. To help the people who love them bear the sorrow.

Nevertheless, funerals are too expensive for many now, and I have to wonder…are people cremating and donating because they can’t afford a funeral?

Right above the bed, where my mother died, I put a giant poster of the Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany. Whenever I asked her if there was one place she would want to go, she said it would be to Germany to see that Castle. So, I got a big beautiful gold frame, and engraved what I thought would go on her grave, and hung it right above the place that she died, in her King side bed which seemed to engulf her tiny body.

She never had the money to go to Germany, and I didn’t have the money to send her.

Eight months after my mother died, I had a dream, that her body was going into a cremation oven. It was on New Year Eve, 2002, that I had that dream. Her spirit hugged me before she went into that fire, and the love that I felt from her in that dream was bigger than ANY love I’ve ever felt on this earth. It was surreal. I often wonder if my mother’s body had been cremated that night for real, and why emotions in dreams can be so much stronger than in real life.

It was much later that I found out that bodies donated to science can go ANYWHERE. To dental students, to just about anywhere. The thought of my dad getting his teeth pulled out by a bunch of college students, when the real thing they should have been studying was his brain, left me horrified.

And by the way, in case you think that my parents were not religious, nothing could be farther from the truth. God, in our family, was in your heart, and in the sky, and a mystery to all mankind.

Which is why, the day after the dream, my husband and I both bought a Mega Million ticket, in which, we BOTH had the final number as 7, I  took it as a sign from my parents who were thanking me for their lovely headstone that I designed in my head. Saying “See…you’re mates too!”

My mother’s King size bed was donated to the Veterans and in its place is my drum set, sitting under her ‘gravestone’ Castle in the sky.  I play Gene Kruppa once in a while, because she always said when I played Gene Krupa’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” it put her to sleep.

You can’t do that in a graveyard. Just putting up the drum set alone would take a good 40 minutes.

So, don’t ask me why I’m telling you all this. It’s just that sometimes, when you have a creative dream…but wait! I just googled ‘coupled gravestones.”

I’m not the only one who had this dream…..darn. I was all ready to go be a stonemason.

You learn something new, every day….I better start saving up now….

Okay, bring the whole bed!

Makes you wonder who posed for this….

MY personal favorite and the one I would pick.

 

 

 

 

 

March 25, 2017 Posted by | Just life, Uncategorized | , | Leave a comment

American Men Save Mom and Her Puppies

Nobody Flashes…

Probably the last inspiring news before the election…and this one IS an inspiration

You have to watch the video if you haven’t seen it.

THESE are the type of men Tom Hanks was making fun of on SNL….

I LOVE these guys. American men. They don’t get any better.

Enjoy!

October 29, 2016 Posted by | American Culture | , | Leave a comment

Walk In THEIR Shoes….

Nobody Flashes

I’m old enough to remember the days when Nike first starting charging $120 for kids’ tennis shoes. I was a single parent at the time, and the marketing was so good, that if your kid didn’t have a pair of Nike’s, he (or she) was doomed to forever be a nobody, and so, I always somehow managed to find the money.

In fact, marketing executives are so good now, our politicians probably have Nike working for them.

I myself wear very cheap tennis shoes from Wal-Mart. BUT….I might buy myself a pair of these.

Unless of course they charge over $500. What do you think? Would you buy a pair?

Or is it just all the usual hype?

 

 

October 9, 2016 Posted by | Life | | 3 Comments

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