What Would Jimmy Do?

I was watching a quiz show a day or so ago and one of the questions was, “What is the only state that once had a king?” Actually, I knew the answer… Hawaii. Well, that got me to thinking. A number of years ago, I was in one of my least favorite European countries — France. When I was in Paris, I remembered seeing a plaque on a wall indicating that the place had at one time been the Embassy of Texas. I couldn’t remember all the details, so I had to do some of my extensive research to remember what I had seen. According to what I found out, the building I had been in was the Hôtel Bataille Francès (currently the Hôtel de Vendôme) and there is indeed a carving on the wall that reads: “Embassy of Texas in 1842-1843 this building was the seat of the Embassy of the Republic of Texas in Paris.” By the French-Texan Treaty of 20 September 1839, France was the First Nation to recognize the Republic of Texas, an independent state between 1836 and 1845. So here’s the background….

It seems like Texas has always dreamed of being its own country. From 1836-1845 it did exist as its own country. After breaking off from Mexico and announcing its autonomy, the republic was so eager to boost its international standing that it sent representatives to open embassies overseas. (Actually, these “Embassies” were really Legations — a diplomatic mission managed by someone with a lower-ranking official than an ambassador.) The reason for opening all these “Embassies” was that Texas feared an invasion from south of the border and thought war with Mexico was inevitable, so it began shoring up global support. Texas opened other embassies in Europe — I know for sure there was one in London. But the one in Paris is the only location I’ve visited.

Of course the independent Republic of Texas was short-lived. Texas was annexed by the United States on December 29, 1845 and ceased to be an independent country. It became the 28th state of the United States.

Growing up in Oklahoma, I heard lots and lots of stories from Texans…I imagine even today they are hoping to become their “own country.” I think the last time I was in a Texas airport, they were still selling secession t-shirts. I don’t know — the way things a going, maybe Texas has the right idea…. Of course if they secede they might risk a trade war with the US….
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May 9, 1976 was a Sunday — the President was Gerald Ford, people were listening to Welcome Back by John Sebastian, Abba was in the top five on the hit parade, A Man Called Intrepid was one of the best selling books and at the movies, The Bad News Bears and All the President’s Men were showing. May 9, 1976 was Mother’s Day.

Oh… and one more thing — Kelly was born. Happy Birthday to my most favorite daughter!!
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Today Claire and I are celebrating 47 years of marriage. There’s a lot of things I could write about the past 47 years… I could write about how undeserving I am and how amazing she is and how the last 47 years has been an amazing journey with her. Those things are all true and I could write about, and sincerely mean, them.

But I thought today, I’d just talk about marriage — and ours, in particular. If I remember correctly, when you marry, it’s for better or worse. We’ve had untold “better” times. We have a lot of friends that have been married a long time and appear to love each other very much. But I honestly can’t think of anyone who has had more fun being married than me and Claire. Of course, anyone can endure the good or better times. In the last 47 years, I can’t think of anything that we’ve experienced that would fall into the “worse” category.

I think our relationship with each other is the most important — more important than our relationships with friends, parents, relatives, our iPhones, or even our children. Yea, even our kids… I think they understand that and I don’t think they’d have it any other way. I think we have a pretty good balance between our common interests/hobbies/activities and our “own stuff.” There are things that I like that Claire really isn’t interested in and of course she’s interested/involved in things I don’t care so much about. But we’re supportive of each other and taking time away to enjoy those activities by ourselves or with friends makes our time together more special.

“They” say that in a marriage, communication is everything. I don’t disagree, but communicating with each other isn’t as easy as it sounds… Obviously, we both have different communication styles. I think I usually express my thoughts in a fairly straight-forward manner. Claire tends to be more all over the place when she tells me something. I’m not complaining… we both respect each other’s communication style and, in fact, since we’ve been married, I tend to talk (and ramble) a bit more and I have to say that Claire is better about getting to the point most of the time.

There’s a book titled “ Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” or something like that. Actually, that’s true. That’s because we’re different. We express ourselves differently, we solve problems differently, we respond to stress differently. When we’re driving, I react to the idiots on the road very differently than Claire. She handles difficult situations with much more diplomacy than I do. But accepting each other’s differences is all part of marriage.

Nit-picking is so easy to do….and it doesn’t accomplish anything. There are lots of little things that Claire does that I could pick apart — there are thousands (possibly millions) of things that I do that she could harp on. But life’s too short to nit-pick. We’ve been together long enough to see friends and family divorces, deaths and tragedies and realize how fortunate we’ve been…. so I think we keep nit-picking to a minimum.

So overall, to say it’s been a pretty good 47 years would be a monumental understatement — It’s been a great 47 years. Someone recently said that it was great that I’d found “the one” for me. I’m glad I found “the one” too. But we’d probably all be better off if we just tried to be “the one.” Happy Anniversary to Claire — and me…..
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Starting tomorrow the next week is one of the busiest of the year around our house. In the space of those seven days, we celebrate Cinco de Mayo, the Kentucky Derby, Virginia Gold Cup, our anniversary, Kelly’s birthday and Mother’s Day.

So if you happen to be someone that checks this blog on a somewhat regular basis, you may notice the number of entries slipping… all these special occasions plus the usual spring/supper jobs such as grass cutting may take a toll on the updates — but let’s get these things going. Margaritas and Mint Juleps are probably a good way to start.
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Since our Grand-Twins (Rory and Ellie) were born, almost a year and a half ago I’ve thought it will be interesting to see how they develop. They’re identical — in looks — but of course they’re each their own little person. They do different things at different times. It’s fun to try to guess who will be “first” to do something… say their first word, walk, etc.
I’m sure there will be a fair amount of “competition” between the two throughout their lives. But this weekend, Ellie got ahead of Rory in the category of broken bones. So she’s one up in that category — or — maybe two up, since she broke two bones. But this is a marathon, not a sprint…. too early to call a winner yet.
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In the late 1960’s, we were working in Nicosia on the island of Cyprus for a week or so. We stayed in a very nice hotel — the staff seemed extremely nice and the service was excellent. After we’d been there a couple of days, we were joined by another employee of our company to help install some equipment. I’d picked him up at the airport and on the way to the hotel he made a couple of remarks about having to travel to all these third-world countries. Cyprus was by no means a third-world country in my mind and I didn’t think anything more about it.

The next morning we went to the dining room for breakfast and Ron (the new guy’s name) came in a few minutes after the rest of us. We had a carafe of coffee on the table and I poured him a cup… turned out his cup emptied the carafe. When he finished his coffee, he asked if I’d like another cup. I said I would and he called the waiter over.

(I’m going to interrupt the story here, for an informational message… the official languages of Cyprus are Greek and Turkish. English is very widely spoken everywhere by locals of all ages. This is probably because of previous British rule…) Now back to the story.

When the waiter came over, Ron pointed at his coffee cup and grunted, and grunted, and pointed and grunted. The waiter had a puzzled look on his face and looked at me and said, in perfect English, “what does he want? Another cup of coffee?”

I guess sometimes, the phrase “ugly American” really is appropriate….
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It seems like for just about the last year, it’s done nothing but rain around here — the ground is so saturated, that just a little bit of rain sends water across the road in low spots. But we’ve actually had a couple of dry days lately — and — not unexpectedly, weeds have grown like crazy. So today, I decided to pull some weeds… the ground was “bone dry!”

Now I think most of us know that when I say something is “bone dry” I mean that it’s very dry. I’ve heard, and used, that phrase just about all my life. Of course, I wondered where it came from, and like a lot of things, the fact is, that no really seems to know.

It’s pretty certain that bone dry came into being as a phrase when people came across the remains of a body — either animal or human having being left out in the sun. If you’ve ever run across animal bones out in the woods, you know they are very dry.

One theory about the phrase’s origin claims that bone-dry is actually a variant of ‘bone-dry,” the dry clay used to form porcelain. The Bible talks about dry bones in the Book of Ezekiel, describing  a vision the prophet has about standing in a valley full of dry human bones. Then the bones connect themselves into human figures and become covered with flesh and skin.

But I think bone dry is one of those phrases that we (or someone) makes up to express something or help a listener paint a picture in their mind. We use phrases like white as a ghost, black as night, bone chilling, or blood red to help listeners better understand out points.

So dry as a bone is just one of those things that a lot of people use and most people, even if they haven’t heard it before, almost readily know what it means….
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We celebrated Easter here in Shepherdstown this year — maybe the best one ever. Our entire family showed up… along with the Easter Bunny. It was “especially” special because it was the first time all our Grandkids were here at the same time…. already looking forward to the next get-together.
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When I was little, a lot of years I got a live bunny or maybe a baby chick or duck for Easter. I don’t remember the bunnies being any color except white, but the chicks and ducks were often some unnatural color like red or green or blue or …..

I don’t remember ever giving out kids live animals for Easter — artificially colored or otherwise. But apparently, even today, there is a demand for “dyed” baby chicks and bunnies. About half the states and a number of municipalities have laws against the practice. But recently in Florida, the legislature passed bill to overturn a 45-year-old ban on dyeing animals. It seems that a lobbyist for a dog groomer was instrumental in repealing the law. The dog groomer wanted to enter contests where people elaborately sculpture and color their pets.

The idea of giving small children live animals isn’t, and never was, a good idea. I’m not a member of any animal rights group, but common sense says it’s not a good idea. As for the coloring, I’ve heard that the color only lasts a few weeks, and it comes off as chicks shed three fluff and the feathers grow in. I’m not sure what happens to the bunnies….

So hopefully tomorrow kids will just get cavities, a sugar high and maybe raise their cholesterol and the chicks and bunnies will do whatever chicks and bunnies do…
Happy Easter to all.
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I think I’ve blogged about this in the past, but today is Good Friday. I’ve always wondered why it’s call Good Friday. This is the day when Christians commemorate Jesus Christ’s crucifixion. According to the Bible, all sorts of terrible things happened to Jesus on this day, ending in his death. It’s truly hard to imagine what’s good about it. Today is typically viewed as a solemn occasion — in many places its observed with somber processions and re-enactments. It’s a day of fasting. None of this would make me pick the name Good Friday.

From what I’ve read, good used to mean holy. Actually my extensive research turned up a number of theories about why Good Friday is called Good Friday. Most, or at least a lot, of these theories are based on the use of ancient words and their meaning at some point in time. Some indicate that Good Friday derives from God or God’s Friday. This really doesn’t make much sense to me, like a lot of the other “theories.”

The only explanation I found that set well with me is that Good Friday is called Good Friday because Christians believe there is, in fact, something very good about it. It is the anniversary of Jesus suffering and dying for our sins. It led to the Resurrection of Jesus and his victory over death and sin. So if you look at the name with that in mind, maybe it doesn’t make the day in and of itself good, but it kicked off a string of events that is very good. So maybe “Good Friday” doesn’t adequately, or accurately, describe the day — but for some reason over the years the name has stuck and no matter what it’s called, and as gruesome as it may have been, it’s important, and necessary if one is to have faith.
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