What Would Jimmy Do?

I caught myself saying, “teed off” the other day — and — I wasn’t playing golf. I used the term because something had annoyed me for some reason. If I had been playing golf and just hit my golf ball from a tee when starting a hole, I’d have teed off. But the fact that something had just annoyed me that had nothing to do with golf, I wondered why I was “teed off.”

I think this is an idiom… which (I think) are expressions or figures of speech that stand for something other than what is being said. I know you’re expecting my extensive research to kick in about now and for me to offer up a plausible explanation of why we sometimes say we’re teed off when we’re angry, disgusted, or annoyed. But I’m really not in the extensive research mood today… I think I’ll just sit here and see if any other idioms for anger pop into my head.
I’ve heard of going postal, a bad hair day, blowing your stack, and biting someone’s head off. Then there’s hot under the collar, up in arms, bent out of shape, fit to be tied, doing a slow burn and seeing red. I’ve heard that people go off the deep end or go up the wall or fly off the handle or blow their top and sometimes they scream bloody murder.

I guess if you’re teed off, ticked off or fly off the handle for some reason, you just need to say something — and I have to admit, using terms like these that don’t have anything to do with the situation is better than cursing. I remember growing up in Oklahoma, to break myself of using “bad words” when angry, I used names of cities or towns in Oklahoma — like Tishomingo, Tahlequah, Anadarko, Eufaula, or Chicasha….
For some reason, when we’re frustrated, we need to express that feeling verbally — I think it doesn’t matter too much what you say…..
— 30 —

Since the news of the scandal in the Catholic Church in Pennsylvania broke, there’s been a lot of talk about reforming/modernizing…
Way back in the 60s and into the 70s, a Mass called the Folk Mass was somewhat popular in the Catholic Church. I don’t remember the Mass being any different than a regular Mass, except for the music. When we attended the Folk Masses, there were usually a small group of musicians that almost always included a guitar or two — I remember there were often other instruments like clarinets, pianos and those things that you shake and they make a noise. I think I remember some of the music being more contemporary, but a lot (most) of it was just “church music.” Anyhow, I enjoyed them and when we had a choice, usually opted for the “Folk Mass.”
Obviously these Masses were a passing fad. I haven’t been to one or heard of one for a number of years. I wonder what happened to them?

I didn’t become a Catholic until I was in my thirties, so keep in mind that I’m not really very knowledgeable about the history of the Catholic Church. I have heard that before Vatican II, Catholics generally did not sing in church. Any singing that did occur was normally done in Latin. If I looked at the right sources, Vatican II was convened from 1962 to 1965. That just happened to be the time that folk music was the most popular.
If I’ve got my facts straight, Pope Paul VI authorized the Mass to be said in vernacular languages, and he also encouraged Catholics to sing at Mass. It seems that as part of this “revolution,” in order to appeal to more young people, someone came up with the idea of the “Folk Mass.”

I’m not sure just how popular Folk Masses ever became, but it doesn’t seem like they were around for long. Folk music went out of vogue and rock music more or less took over….I never heard of, or attended, any “Rock Masses” but there may have been some.

I kind of think it’s a shame that Folk Masses didn’t last. I agree that the Catholic Church needs to clean up some of its act and modernize — maybe something along the lines of Folk Masses could be a part of that…. I haven’t heard anything bad about them — at least not yet. Just a thought….
— 30 —

Our Number One (first born) grandchild started school a few days ago — third grade already!
We’ve been fortunate to attend “grandparents day” at her school the past couple of years and I was thinking the other day about sitting in her classroom and looking around — how classrooms have changed since I went to school.

Of course we had wooden desks with inkwells arranged in rows with the teacher’s desk up front, but lots of other physical changes (besides the seating) to her classroom environment struck me as well. There aren’t any more chalkboards (we used to call them blackboards) — now some have “whiteboards,” but a lot have “smart boards” where both humans and computers can write/draw on them. We used to always have a world globe in our classroom… of course that was before Google Maps — and — countries used to keep the same name, sometimes for years. We also had pull down maps (like a window shade) usually mounted above the chalkboard. And to sharpen our pencils, every room had a pencil sharpener — mounted on the wall and you had to crank it by hand.

Times have changed…. Emily probably wouldn’t recognize half the things in our classrooms — and — to be honest, I don’t recognize a lot of things in her room.
Good Luck in third grade. Em.
— 30 —

I’ve heard it said that democracy is an experiment. I’ve also heard it said that life is an experiment.
And I’ve heard that they both ultimately end in failure. When life ends — we say, “that’s life.” When democracy ends — we say, “that’s history.”

Life is too deep a subject for me today, so I thought I’d go down the democracy road…
Democracy is a form of government that seems to have served the United States well for over 250 years. Obviously, it’s far from perfect and has gone through some rough times over the years. I think chaos best describes the current state of democracy in the US today.

If what “they say” is true — that democracy is an experiment that ultimately ends in failure, is our form of government doomed? Maybe the chaos so prevalent today is really just a sign of “old age” or the “end-of-life” for democracy. Maybe it’s not as nimble as it was a hundred years ago, maybe some of its brain cells are dying…

Until recently, the United States was a world leader in just about any category you could name — except maybe crime, violence, corruption… those things you don’t want to be near the top in…
I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way the American people lost their “say” in our political/government system. I should clarify that the “typical” American lost their say — people categorized as millionaires or billionaires not only have their “say,” they pretty much run the political/government system and therefore, the country. The three branches of government set up to assure checks and balances and, for sure, the “will of the people” are rapidly disappearing. When you think of the phrase, “We, the People,” it seems like the “we” has become more “they.” And, not to be overly critical, or to place the blame, but today “we” has become “him.”
Most Americans are not getting “more,” they’re getting “less” — and — have less say about what they’re not getting.

So our government is getting old, it’s dysfunctional and kind of broken. It may even be beyond repair… but we must, as the British say, “keep calm and carry on.” As human beings, we become old, a bit broken and dysfunctional, but we carry on. We should do the same for our government — carry on. For all our generation, that experiment of life will sooner or later be referred to as, “that’s life.” We should strive to make the best of what comes our way so that our children, grandchildren and their children and grandchildren don’t ever get to… “that’s history.”
There’s a line in Les Miserables something like, “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” We should choose to be optimistic — it feels better.
— 30 —

We visited Dave and Chassie yesterday, and as always, I’m amazed how the art of raising children has changed. I admit that I’ve become a little old fashioned in the way I do things and am becoming slower to pick up on the newer techniques.

Yesterday, Locke had just eaten a cookie or cupcake or something that turned his tongue bright blue. Dave said, “Hey, your tongue is blue!” Locke didn’t believe it. Now when we were raising kids, my response would have been, “Go look in the mirror!” That’s what I expected Dave to say.
But to show you how out of touch I am, here’s what happened.

Dave told Locke to stick out his tongue, then he pulled out his phone, took a picture and showed it to Locke. I’m not sure why that fascinated me, but it did. I never in a million years would have thought of that… I’d have looked for a mirror.
I really don’t know how the younger generation could function without “smart?” phones.
And I feel sorry for people that make mirrors…. their future is doomed.
— 30 —

Today is the 13th of August. It’s kind of a special day. I know, you’re thinking that it’s special because on this date in 1960, the first two-way telephone conversation by satellite took place (via “Echo I”)
I agree that that’s significant, but the reason it’s special around here is that it’s my Dad’s birthday — and — it’s also the day the Williamsons (Claire and Jimmy) first went out together.
So you may want to mark your calendars and celebrate with us every year. I’m sure that before long when you look up “significant events occurring on Aug 13th,” it’ll include “First Date.”
Cheers to us…..
— 30 —

We went to church this weekend and like always, during the service, there’s a time when we offer each other a “sign of peace.” That involves shaking hands. We usually sit in the same place in church and usually shake hands with those around us, who also usually sit in the same place. But when we have visitors, I end up shaking the hand of someone new. Whenever I do that I always think about that handshake. I’ve heard that a handshake is much like a person’s handwriting — it supposedly gives a clue into their inner nature. I don’t know if that’s true, but I got to thinking about handshakes. Quite some time ago, I discussed hugs and how there seemed to be lots of different kinds of hugs. I think the same goes for handshakes.

I didn’t do my usual extensive research on the subject, but I suspect that some form of handshaking has been around from the time of the very first humans. I’ve been fortunate enough to travel quite a bit over the years and most places I’ve been, handshaking is a custom, but some places, like parts of Asia, a short bow is a more polite greeting than a handshake. In the Mediterranean, hugs seem to be a favorite style of greeting. But, still, handshaking is almost universal.

During the 60s, I spent some time in Monrovia, Liberia — on the west coast of Africa. Years ago, Liberia was settled by freed, or escaped, slaves from (primarily) the United States. When I first shook hands with a “Liberian” it started out an an ordinary handshake, but ended with the hand being dragged straight back — and while I didn’t notice it at first, there was ‘snap’ sound created. I learned that all Liberians shook hands in that manner and the pressing of their fingers together to create the snapping sound was very significant. It seems that prior to being freed, slaves were not allowed to snap their fingers, because that’s how the slave owner, or master, called them. The snapping sound became a symbol of their freedom.

Handshaking can be a pleasant experience or, sometimes, an unpleasant or even weird experience. Handshakes have been in the news lately, due to the long, “who can squeeze the hardest,” handshake between the U.S. and French Presidents not too long ago.

The one type of handshake I hate more than others is the “dead fish” handshake. People just sort of stick their hand out in your direction — there’s no grip, no squeeze, no nothing. It’s like gripping a dead fish. I’ve heard that people that shake hands like that have low self-esteem. That could be, but I won’t attempt to analyze what handshakes mean…. some others that I’ve noticed are:
The two-handed handshake — someone just grabs your hand and starts to shake it and then puts his/her left hand on top and just keeps pumping. This one seems to be used by politicians a lot for some reason.
Some people extend their hand, not in a vertical position but horizontally, so their hand is on top our yours. Again, there’s probably some hidden psychological meaning here, but I don’t know what.
The bone crusher — some people squeeze your hand until you cringe. I think a nice, firm handshake is nice, but these guys are too much for me.
I probably shouldn’t even mention this one, but it creeps me out sometimes to get the sweaty hand handshake. I’m sure it’s usually not their fault, it could be some sort of a medical condition, or they’re just nervous — but — still creeps me out a bit.
Some people just sort of stick their hand out like a robot… when you grab it, there’s no response on their part —it’s kind of like shaking a stick.
Some (quite a few) people do a no-eye-contact handshake. They just stick their hand out and never look you in the eye. For some reason, that just particularly annoys me. In my mind it’s rude.
I’m not sure what to call the kind of handshake when someone grabs your hand , shakes it, and sometimes touches your shoulder or rubs your forearm with their other hand — I never know how to react to this one.
There’s another handshake a lot like the two-handed handshake — they just grab your hand with both their hands, sort of cupped around yours and they shake up and down, and up and down and up and down…. its hard to know when to try pull away.
Another particularly non-favorite of mine is when someone grabs your hand and pulls you closer to them — they usually have something to say, like, “nice to meet you.” These people usually pull you so close it’s uncomfortable.
And of course there’s the royalty handshake. These handshakers don’t shake your hand, they just extend their hand, usually with their palm facing down and it just kind of waves around a little so you have to time it just right to grab and shake it.
And then there are handshakes that aren’t really handshakes, they’re fist bumps, or high-fives, or maybe even elbow bumps. Sometimes people that know each other well do all of them sequentially and it looks as if it’s choreographed like some sort of a ceremonial handshake.
When I meet one of these “bumpers” or high-fivers, our handshake usually becomes the confused handshake. Usually, we’re both confused as to whether to fist-bump, shake, high-fiver, or whatever… first.

Anyhow, handshakes are apparently here to stay — at least for the foreseeable future. But unfortunately, handshakes don’t mean the same, or as much, as they once did. My dad and granddad were in business for many, many years and I would bet that they rarely, if ever, signed a contract. They made their agreements (and stuck to them) with a handshake. My dad once told me, “If a man’s handshake is no good, all the legal paperwork in the world won’t make it good.”
— 30 —

As both you faithful readers know, I don’t like birthdays. Specifically, I don’t like my birthday. I don’t really know why, I just don’t like my birthday — never have, even when I was a kid. I don’t think its because I’m getting older… I get older every day. There’s just something (that I’ve never been able to put my finger on) that I don’t like.

But — whether I like it or not, birthdays come along every year, and I don’t disagree with the saying that “getting old is better than the alternative.”
And today’s the day — I’m no longer in my seventies and fear that I’m rapidly approaching my ‘best before’ date. Being this old, I’ve learned everything. Now I just have to remember it.

I’m pretty new to being 80 — but now that I’m here, I feel no sense of “achievement” — I just wonder how the heck I got to be so old. When you reach any age, it’s really not an achievement — there’s a lot of luck involved. A couple of people have asked me if I dreaded getting to this age. Well, no. It just happened.
So here I am at 80 — am I happy? Actually, I am. Happier than I’ve ever been? No, I’ve been so fortunate and blessed in my life that just about everything has made me happy. When I met Claire, when we got married, when David and Kelly were born, when Emily, Locke, Rory and Ellie were born…. certainly all those times were happier than turning 80. Of course if I listed all the things that made me happier than getting old, this would be a very long blog.

Some people seem to think when you reach a certain age, you can speak your mind, do what you want and even be rude because you no longer have to worry about what people think. But actually, politeness and good manners are important no matter what your age. I do still care about what people think and I still worry about many of the same things…like what the future holds for our children and grandchildren.

Maybe one of the more comforting things about growing old is an increased ability to not take things too seriously. Another thing that’s changed, is my ideals. I usually don’t admit, or at least tell people that I don’t have ideals. When I was younger, I had loftier ideals and thought I could actually change things and make them better. Today, I still rant and rave, but now I’m more or less content to simply deplore the state of things. I don’t think that means that I don’t care, I’ve just become more aware my limitations — and sort of accepted the limitations of our leaders — and everyone in general, I guess. I don’t try to convert people to my way of thinking and try not to feel superior because some of these people appear to be lacking in intelligence.

The last 10 or 12 years that I worked, I had a sign in my office that read, “You Just Can’t Fix Stupid!” I thought it was true then and I think it’s true today. You can try to fix most everything and you can fight a lot of things, like evil. But if you’re up against stupid, you’re helpless. I have come to accept the fact that human beings are inclined to behave in ways that are often unimaginable — sometimes its factors like evil, but sometimes, I’m convinced, it’s stupidity. And everyone seems to think they’re “right.” God is always on their “side.” Even athletes thank God for being on their side and helping them to victory.
I guess as I ponder life in, here, my 80th year, my good luck, long life and years of happiness is not so much as a result of having God on my side, but more the result of having God by my side.
— 30 —

Those of you old enough to remember will recall that the TV show “Hawaii Five-0” currently appearing (on CBS, I think) isn’t the original show about the police force in Hawaii. The original show premiered in the 1960s — and — was filmed in Hawaii.

In the early 70s I was assigned to a project that required extensive travel between Washington and Honolulu — I made the trip at least weekly for some time. We were there so much that our organization rented an apartment on one of the upper floors of the Ilikai Hotel. The apartment was owned by a Japanese business man and only used by him on rare occasions. It was very nicely furnished and we were able to leave our belongings there and not have to haul them back and forth on every trip.

One day myself and a co-worker had just arrived a few hours earlier when we got an urgent phone call informing us that we must return to Washington immediately. Reservations on a flight had already been made for us and there was a car waiting downstairs — we had less than an hour to get to the airport. (Flying then was much easier and more expedient that it is today.) Anyhow, we grabbed our briefcases (everyone carried a briefcase in those days,) jumped in the elevator, and raced out through the lobby to our waiting car.

We were not aware at the time that a scene for the (original) Hawaii Five-0 TV show was being filmed in the lobby of the Ilikai. Of course we went racing through the scene and were obviously caught on camera, although it was very briefly.
The lobby had been cordoned off for the scene, but we burst out of the elevator so fast that the “guard” by the elevator was caught by surprise.

I’m sure the scene was ruined and had to be re-shot, but the project we were working on was considered to be very sensitive and our security people went to the production crew and demanded (and got) the film/tape of the scene. When I heard that the film was confiscated I inquired about it, but was never shown the film. I asked if the people that had seen it thought I might have a career in television. I mostly just got scowls — it turns out that our group had to “pay” for the film.
I don’t watch today’s version of Hawaii Five-0, but when I see it advertised, I often think of my (very) short stint on TV.

As an added bonus, for reading this blog, do you happen to know the significance of “Five-0” in the shows title?
The show was about an (elite) force of police in the 50th state. So the 5-0 stood for the 50th state. On the show, the cops would announce themselves by shouting, “police, five 0!” The term became widely adopted as a way to announce the presence of police.
— 30 —

A couple of days ago we stopped by some friends house for a few minutes. They had just returned from a short trip to Maine. During our conversation, they mentioned being amused by some of the terms and phrases used by the natives in Maine.

I’ve touched on this subject a couple of times in the past, but after our visit, I got to thinking about some of the phrases and words that I used when I left Oklahoma that made people look at me funny and sometimes, I’m sure, question my sanity.

One of the terms I remember my dad using was “tarnation” as in “what the tarnation were you thinking?” (I think it’s another way of saying, “what the heck.”)
When we had lots of rain (like we’ve had around here lately) we’d say “that was a real gully warsher. Note that the “washer” is spelled with an “r” — that’s the way you pronounce washer in Oklahoma…with an “r.” When I moved to Washington, my parents told everyone that I was living in “Warshington.”

Another word that I don’t remember hearing since I left Oklahoma is “pallet.” When I was little, my mother would often make me a “pallet” on the floor to take my naps. I think a pallet is kind of like a pile of blankets, or at least something soft to lay on.
If we were just wasting time when I was growing up, we were just “piddling.” I’ve rarely, if ever, heard it used since leaving home. When I was growing up, we put our groceries, or other things we bought in a “sack” — I don’t remember the word bag ever being used.

I remember one of my grandmothers referred to a storm cellar (something that most people had back then) as a “fraidy hole.”
I think a lot of our “terms” were just bad language — I remember we always used to say things like, “j’eet chet?” (Did you eat yet?) just to annoy our teachers.
Anyhow, I reckon most, if not all states, have their own unique words and phrases. I reckon….
— 30 —