Waning! New glasses can be hazardous to your health......

So....I went to Target to pick up my new pair of glasses, and by the time I left the store I was afraid to put them on. Let me preface all this by saying that these are only the second pair of glasses I've owned in my life. The optician said that I could still legally drive without glasses -- which I translated to mean that my eye sight was still pretty good. Still and all, she prescribed progressive lenses (which J. says are nothing more than tri-focals).

So....I walk in Target and turn into the optical shop where I'm greeted by a perky, peppy, cutsy, young lady. She seemed so pleased to be able to go to the back and retrieve my glasses. When she returned she looked at my glasses and commented on how cool she thought they were, and then a huge grin came over her face. "Have you ever worn progressives before?" she asked. "Nope," I answered. Upon hearing my answer, an even bigger smile appeared on her face, and she quickly came round her desk to stand right in front of me.

"Okay," she says. "It's going to be a little difficult." (At this point I'm beginnig to wonder -- what the hell??) While still holding my glasses she asks me if I've ever seen little old ladies do this (whereupon she lowers her chin and looks over her own glasses). Oh, yes, I say. (Why I say this I don't know, because I don't know what she's talking about.) "Good," she responds, "because you're going to be doing that too now." !!!!

Next (still holding my glasses, and still seeming very pleased with herself) she tells me I'll probably fall down now and then while getting used to the new glasses. Then (still smiling broadly) she proceeds telling me how she gets calls from people saying they can't get used to the progressive lenses. Then she hands me my glasses. "You keep 'em," I tell her. (She thinks this is hilarious.)

In the end I took the glasses and walked out of the store wondering where I could get my hands on whatever it was she was taking.

BTW, I carefully carried (instead of wearing) my glasses out of the store, for fear of looking like a little old lady who kept falling down....

R.I.P.

Eye of the Tiger!

Sad days in Tiger Town. Yesterday, Mike V went to the big pep rally in the sky. I have no doubt the thunder we heard was the cheers of departed LSU fans giving Mike a welcoming roar -- his reward for the chills he gave us when he'd grace us with his mighty roar before football games.



Fightin' Tigers....L-S-U!

Quotes from Mike the Tiger: The Roar of LSU by David G. Baker and W. Sheldon Bivin:

"Mike the Tiger has symbolized the spirit and resolve of Louisiana State University for nearly seventy years. Fiercely confident, keenly competitive, and marvelously clever, the only live Bengal tiger to reside on a college campus reigns nobly from his home just outside of Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge. LSU fans proudly vaunt the superiority of their mascot over the dog, bird, reptile, and pig emblems of other college teams...."

"The authors begin by explaining the Civil War origins of LSU’s fighting tiger tradition...."

They continue to say that Mike V had the best personality of all the Mikes and was easiest to handle. (Mike V never escaped from his habitat, like a couple of other Mikes [that we won't embarrass by mentioning] did....) !!



Mike's Root Canal which, of course, made nightly local news. And my dentist says he hates root canals....



Mike's entrance to LSU football games (he's really in that cage.) The cheerleaders no longer can beat on his cage to make him roar. Nowadays -- if he roars, he roars.

One of my favorite Mike stories was told by the pastor of a church I used to attend. The pastor, when in college, was one of Mike's caretakers. Being a caretaker used to include taking Mike on late night joyrides around Baton Rouge. (I say used to include because when Mike's cage overturned on one of our major highways one day while on the way to an event -- that all came to an end. Mike pretty much stayed put from then on.

Moving right along.... Back in the day, when Mike could still go sight-seeing, this pastor told about pulling Mike's cage through neighborhoods, slowing down to allow crowds to gather and oogle the tiger. Then....the pastor would take Mike back to his cage, unload the tiger, and proceed to drive back through the same neighborhoods (pulling an empty tiger cage), stick his head out the window and yell, "Has anybody seen a tiger?"

Anyway, Mike V is gone. A search in underway for Mike VI. When he arrives I'll be sure and post his pic. ....Bet 'cha can't wait, huh? ;)

It's a beautiful day out today, so if you want to join us for a toast to Mike, just meet us by the tiger cage (LSU fans will know what I mean) at sunset.

Munny

Such an odd little bit of fun that people do amazing things with. Now, there may be hidden meanings to the Munny thang that I have no idea about. But, to me they represent a means of artistic expression. A blank canvas, so to speak. They require one to think about how to express themselves. Will their Munny express their past, present, or future? Will their Munny be an experimental artistic project? Will their Munny remain a clean canvas upon which to mentally try out hopes, dreams, fears?

Whatever the choice, I think the result could enlighten a person. That's why I sent each of my kids and their friends their own Munnys (ies)? when they moved to North Carolina. It's been interesting hearing what they are doing with (or thinking about doing with) their individual Munnys. They have been quite individualistic in their approaches.

My son, typically, wants to do something so complicated that he doesn't know where to start -- or doesn't want to start at the boring beginning (where he must). One of their friends knew instantly what she wanted to do -- and her choice surprised no one. She is a blissfully uncomplicated soul. She knows what she likes and enjoys her life. The other friend will most likely end up with a Munny that could be auctioned on eBay, making her a tidy sum.

It didn't take my daughter long to decide on a Super Woman Munny. I like that.

Big, glorious southern thunderstorms......

The first thing you notice is the sky darkening -- turning so black the street lights come on mid-day. It's not long before you hear rumblings in the distant sky. Things move quickly then. The thunder nears until it's so loud the room shakes and the windows rattle. The lightning strikes so close the hair on your arms prickle. Then the rain comes -- sheets of rain so thick you can't see through it. ....Then the air conditioning actually cuts off! (For a couple of minutes anyway.)

Yes ma'am, our southern thunder storms can be a thing to savor -- IF you're home (and not in a car on a flooded out street), IF you can crawl in bed and nap, IF you have a good book and a good cup of tea to cuddle up with (assuming power's not knocked out). Yep! If things line up just right, there's not much to compare with a good old-fashioned thunder boomer.

Then....when it's over, everything looks so green and fresh outside. And when you walk out to look -- it feels like a damp wool blanket has been thrown over you. Steam rises from the streets. It hasn't cooled off, just gotten even more humid. Is that possible?

I'm a bit conflicted......

(which is a fairly normal state for me....)

When the Virginia Tech tragedy happened, I was stunned -- as were my children (I was visiting two of my children and three of their friends in Raleigh). We couldn't find words to express how we felt. When I heard people say what a shame it is that our children weren't safe on college campuses....I agreed. I understood.

But....in the last couple of weeks I've talked with two different university professors in two different areas of the U.S. and I've been challenged on my feelings. They (the professors) are appalled and heart-broken about the tragedy, yet -- and here's the part I never considered -- they are angered at people calling college students children. And they are unbelieving at the talk of campus "lock-downs" and the like.

Their feelings (yes, I'm speaking for them -- and I'm probably not getting it entirely correct, but....) their feelins are that college students are adults, and a college campus is a community where ideas are communicated. They didn't feel the campus should have been put on lock-down after the first two murders any more than any city experiencing two murders should be locked-down.

I can understand their logic, yet I can't agree with them. When asked if it would have been any less tragic if the deaths had occurred in a work place or a neighborhood, I had to agree that it would have been just as tragic. The slaughter of human beings anywhere is tragic. But....still and all....you just shouldn't be killed in a classroom.

When do you become an adult? When you reach a certain age, graduate from high school, marry, go to college. Is it insulting to think of college students as children who deserve a safe environment? And what about our service men and women? So very many of them are college age.

I was stunned to hear some of my daughter's and son's friends (who are in their 20's and early 30's) express how unjust they felt it is that children (their words) are fighting and dying in a war when we at home haven't been asked to sacrifice diddly squat.

Well, since I've managed to totally confuse myself -- I guess it's a good point to stop.

Graduation Time......

Okay, I have to ask -- where does the time go?

Two lovely, intelligent, genuinely nice and caring young ladies in my family are graduating from high school this month. One....I was ready for. The other....caught me by surprise. (I refused to believe she'd grown up so fast -- grown up with me living miles away and not being able to be more part of her life.)

So, a card and a check, along with a few heart-felt handwritten words will try to convey my affection. ....I'll save the sappy, sentimental reminiscing for a phone call to the parents.

P.S. Occasions such as these often times remind me that I'm in a mixed marriage. J.'s darling little cousin is graduating from a high school in a city in AL where the other university is located. (Not her fault -- both her mom and dad teach there.)

On the other hand -- my adorable little niece is graduating from Paul W. Bryant High School. ....Three guesses where my brother lives.

Be careful out there......

J. and I got back from Wal*Mart a couple of hours ago. While we were there, I went inside to pick up my medicine and a couple other things while J. bought some pine straw for the front flower beds. As I walked out the doors and started to cross the street I spotted J. walking toward me -- looking as if he'd been running. I figured he'd been loading the pine straw.

It turned out that he'd just witnessed a lady having her purse snatched. The purse snatcher was driving along the parking aisles in a pickup truck when he reached out the driver's window, grabbed the purse of a woman walking to her car, knocking her down and dragging her 10-15 feet before she let go of her purse. J. started chasing the truck ?? while another man jumped into his truck and gave chase.

By the time J. and I walked past the lady there were about eight other shoppers gathered round her helping pick up the spilled groceries. The poor lady was shaking so hard she could barely stand. She had numerous cuts and scratches and said he was "murderous" in the way he wouldn't slow down while dragging her. J. told the Wal*Mart staff anything he had noticed and I suggested that the lady have the police check out her home because the thief had her personal info. That's all we could do.

Moral of the story......be careful and be aware. A few months ago I noticed that my area of the city had changed. Instead of carrying my life around in my purse everywhere I went, I fixed up a grab and go bag to take with me while I was out and about. But -- just this week I started carrying my big ol heavy purse around again. (I needed papers and cards and stuff at the doctor's.) No more. I'm back to the bare necessities.

Take care, everyone.

What is this--and why is it rotating?

I know it's hard to make any sense of the above image, but it's the best one I could find. If you could see it in all its glory, you'd see that it is a subtropical system -- rotatin' its little heart out. Crap!


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"Year’s 1st named storm forms, 3 weeks before hurricane season

By JESSICA GRESKO
Associated Press Writer

MIAMI | Subtropical Storm Andrea formed Wednesday off the southeastern U.S. coast, more than three weeks before the official start of the Atlantic hurricane season, forecasters said.

Meteorologists didn’t think the storm with top sustained winds near 45 mph would strengthen significantly or be much of a threat. Still, a tropical storm watch was issued for parts of Georgia and Florida, meaning tropical storm conditions are possible within the next 36 hours........"


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And....they're saying here that some models have the thang crossing the Florida panhandle and making its way into the oh, so warm Gulf waters later this week.


Here we go again. Crap-o-la.



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I just remembered....

Tropical systems can be a good thing -- if your little part of the world needs rain. I remembered this as I was hearing about the fires in Georgia and Florida. Hope it helps them.

I'm still not thrilled that there's a named storm, tho....

Reason #1 why I don't like to go to the doctor's....

They always find something wrong.

I went into the doctor's office fine and came out with high blood pressure - along with medication and a list of possible horrid side effects that, upon reading, probably made my blood pressure go up twenty points!

Weight

Almost four weeks ago, on a chilly (actually cold for these parts) Saturday morning, before the sun had risen (another of those early morning flights that seem like such a good idea when I'm booking them), I found myself sitting in one of those wittle, bitty planes Delta is so fond of flying out of Baton Rouge to larger airports. ....A packed wittle, bitty plane.

All of a sudden I noticed passengers sporatically getting out of their seats and exchange seats with other passengers. Then....the pilot makes an announcement over the planes's loudspeaker. This is what he says: "Ladies and gentlemen we have a weight problem. We are in the process of moving passengers around to better distribute the weight."

Then....three or four minutes later, he makes another announcement. "Hello again, ladies and gentlemen. Continue bearing with us as we redistribute passengers and their weight. We do have a significant weight problem. After the redistribution is complete, we'll see how we do on take-off."

Of course we made it to Atlanta fine. And I made it on to Raleigh fine -- after forgetting the time difference and thinking I had 45 minutes to make my connection, leading to my marathon winning run through HotLanta's airport. Actually, I knew exactly how much time I had (because A. had drilled it into my head. My daughter knows I don't pay attention to lots of details at times.) I blame my memory lapse on my seatmate -- also from Baton Rouge, also headed to Raleigh, who was convinced we had only 45 minutes between flights.

Anywho....I ended up enjoying three weeks in the beautiful state of North Carolina with A. and son #3. Now I'm back home -- spicy, hot, humid, and quirky though it be.