In case that's too small to read, it says, "What men see in women or women in men to admire is generally a puzzle to those who know the men and women in question intimately."

It's a quote and picture from a book that is over a hundred years old. It belonged to my grandmother and was published in 1901. the title of the book is Crankisms and the author is Lisle de Vaux Matthewman, with illustrations by Clare Victor Dwiggins.

At some weddings a part of the ceremony is to ask the audience if they will support the newly minted couple. I always enthusiastically answer this question in the affirmative, and i really mean it.

So, some of us don't understand what you see in the man you have chosen. He's not a bad man, i just don't think he's anywhere near wonderful or funny or engaging enough for you.

But you chose him. And i support you in that choice.

I do.

Gentlemen, start your grills

In the past few months i have observed some interesting behavior in regard to meat grilling.

Scene 1: At someone else's house, i watched a male guest critique, and then ultimately take over the grilling of the fish. The host, a secure and calm man, let Mr. Rude Guest take over without a fuss and went off to toss the salad.

(As an aside, the fish was slightly over done.)

Scene 2: Steak this time, also at someone else's house. Three male guests began to argue rather vehemently about the correct steak grilling technique. To sear or not to sear? How long on each side per inch of thickness? Is the grilling fork with the temperature gauge a worthwhile tool or a crutch for the incompetent? Apparently. THESE THINGS ARE VITALLY IMPORTANT!

(My steak was also overdone, but to be fair, i like it RARE.)

Scene 3: Our house this time, and back to fish. The Mister and Mr. Polite Guest were outside. When The Mister declared the fish done, Mr Polite Guest expressed concern that the fish was NOT done. The Mister's explained his theory that the fish continues cooking after being removed from the grill.

(The fish was yummy.)

I'm trying to think if any guest, other than my mother, has ever criticized me while i was cooking. To my face i mean. (When my mother did it, i told her "Great idea. Here, you do it." That shut her up!) I couldn't remember any.

My theory is, if someone else cooks, my job is to offer to help, shut up, and eat it.

Clueless

The Mister and i went to an obligatory brunch with my parents yesterday.

Those of you who have been following the adventures of meno know that my mother likes to talk, and is constitutionally unable to listen.

So all that was needed from me was the occasional "uh huh," "really?" " is that right?" and "you don't say," to keep the monologue conversation going.

As she likes to do, she began to complain about one of my brothers and his wife, who had visited them a few days before. "I never learn anything from them about their lives when they are here," she whined.

"Did you ask them any questions?" i asked.

"Oh you," she answers, "don't be that way." Which is her standard reply when i say something she isn't expecting or doesn't like.

I am not wondering why she didn't learn anything from them.

Fun in bed

Last night, unbeknownst to me, a nickel, yes, a coin worth 5 pennies, was lurking in my bed.

As i rolled over, again, unbeknownst to me, the nickel stuck to my hip. A few seconds later, it detached and slid down my leg, because gravity, it works.

All i knew at that point, is that something vaguely cold was moving down my leg under the covers.

Being the calm and collected person that i am, as well as (sadly) an arachnophobic, i screamed and leapt about 5 feet from the bed, dragging the blankets and top sheet with me.

Oddly enough, this woke up The Mister, who also leapt out of bed, ready to do battle with whatever evil hell minion was attacking his woman. He seemed rather put out that there was nothing to slay.

The nickel remained calm and stayed in bed.

Oh, for a video camera in the bedroom at that moment.

Crank Call

I got to give someone a well-deserved verbal dressing down the other day.

Man, it was FUN!

I was answering phones during a pledge drive at our local public radio station. They had just announced a special premium for a $250 donation. It was two tickets to come and sit in on a live taping of a show featuring Al Gore.

So the phones start ringing, including mine.

"Thank you for calling KUOW. Are you calling about the Al Gore tickets?"

"Yes!"

I raise my hand in the air to make sure that caller dude gets one of the special stickers that denote this premium.

He continues talking;

"I wouldn't give warm spit to see Al Gore!"

I reach out with my hand to prevent the station worker from attaching the sticker to the pledge sheet i had begun to fill out.

"Never mind," i tell her, loud enough for the man on the phone to hear, "he's just calling to bitch."

The other people at my table start to pay attention. We all love a good cranky caller. We trade stories about them during the down times.

"So," i say, "you don't like Al Gore?"

"No!" says my caller. " I think he's a total fraud."

"And you felt so strongly about this that you called me, a volunteer on the pledge line, to complain about it?"

"Well, ah, yes"

"Seriously? I think that was a poor choice. What possible good do you think that will do? What a complete waste of energy."


"Ummmm...."

"And what exactly would you like me to do for you?"

"Ahhhh...."

"Unless you are willing to give me you name and phone number so i can have someone from the station call you back, i'm going to hang up now."

(small voice) "Uh, okay. Bye."

My table mates were quite shocked that i had spoken to this man so sharply, and then hung up on him. But the lady from the radio station said, "You handled that really well!"

I was grinning! So, thanks Mr. Caller Dude. That was fun.

Getting Started

Years ago, like thirty years, i saw an little animated short film called "Getting Started" at one of those ubercool film festivals that universities are so fond of.

The movie depicts the difficulties of just getting started.

A man sits at a piano, hands poised above the keyboard, ready to play. He stops, deciding that perhaps a nice cup of tea would be just the thing.

Back at the piano with tea, hands raised, when his pet mouse appears. He talks to the mouse.

He scratches his nose, he gets up to take a phone call, he stares out the window.

And so on.

I've never been one to blog daily, but i begin to recognize that one of the advantages of it would be that you would not have to get started, you just keep going.

It's like those sexless dry spells that married (and i suppose unmarried) couples go through. After a while, you have to stop waiting for the time to be right, and just DO IT fer crissakes!

Writing is something i do. In many it's ways necessary to me. But the longer i go without writing, the harder it is for me to get started.

Excuses:
1) Things are going on in my life that are hard to talk about. Not necessarily BAD thing, but things.
2) My daughter ferreted out my blog and reads it. That i feel a tad stifled by that.
3) The cat needed to be petted.
4) And so on.