Dear Monday:

I realize you feel as though you are the red-headed step child of the Weekday Family, and sometimes you are not given the thanks you deserve. Without you, there would be no Monday Night Football. Without you, Garfield the cat would have nothing to complain about. Without you we wouldn't have ... um ... we wouldn't have ... that song from The Bangles.

Having said that, I have noticed that you seem to be arriving earlier and earlier each week. My clock tells me it's Monday, but my body and my brain never feel as though they've had a full 63 hours of rest. I have reason to believe that you are engaged in some sort of tomfoolery in order to cut the weekend short, and I have a feeling that Sunday night is your accomplice in this trickery.

I appreciate the fact that you are anxious to greet us bright and early and show us all the things Friday didn't get around to completing. (By the way, Tuesday can probably handle half of those things. There's no need to burden yourself with an overload of work.) However, I must request that you put an end to the encroachment of my weekends and return the extra hours at once. Please leave them with Saturday night (I don't trust that sneaky little bastard Sunday) or I will have no choice but to involve Wednesday and Thursday for mediation purposes. (I would call Friday in for assistance, but he thinks he is God's gift to the calendar. He's been insufferable since they opened that blasted restaurant chain.)

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.

Sincerely,
Me

Thank You Kenna

On Friday May 28th, 2010, at 3:30 AM, my sister Kenna died. She had been fighting cancer for nearly three years when her time came. Her funeral was held on June 1, and the following piece is what I said at her services. I didn't read from a pre-written paper, only an outline, so it isn't the exact wording, but it's as best as I can remember.



Each of you knows a different version of Kenna. Whether she was a relative or friend, classmate, co-worker, or neighbor, we all have our own unique memories and experiences. But I am the only one who called her big sister. I’m supposed to make you laugh today, so I’m going to share with you some things from my perspective and things my big sister taught me.

I learned a lot from her culinary skills. When we were little, we had a dog named Elvis. One morning Kenna had taken it upon herself to make pancakes from scratch and she somehow messed up the recipe. Whether she accidentally switched the sugar and salt, we’re not sure, but they were awful! Mom put the pancakes into an old Cool Whip tub and took them out to the dog. Elvis cautiously approached it, sniffed the contents, and promptly buried the entire bowl. The lesson here is that if at first you don’t succeed, the dog is probably laughing at you too! But she did try, try again, and our appetites are a testament to her cooking skills.

Through this experience Kenna taught me determination.

I also learned a lot through her language skills. Kenna used to teach me certain words; the kind of words that you didn’t want to say in front of mom, and she was telling me from experience! If any of you ever hear me *accidentally* slip one of those words into conversation, just consider it a small part of Kenna’s legacy.

Through this, Kenna taught me that there is a time and place for everything, and it’s important to recognize the difference.

She also taught me how to successfully execute a practical joke. For the first ten years of my life, Kenna and I shared a room. One night we were supposed to be asleep, but we were talking instead, and I had taken over the conversation as I usually do. As I talked away, I was oblivious to the fact that Kenna was silently and stealthily piling blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals next to her in the bed to make it appear that the bed was occupied. She slid out the end of the bed, slithered across the floor, and popped up at the foot of my bed with a “BOO!”

From this I learned to always sleep with a night light, and that sometimes you need to stop talking and start listening.

Kenna taught me how to delegate responsibility by placing the things she didn’t want to clean on my side of the room. Namely, the cat’s litter box.

Kenna taught me how to stand up for myself and those I love when she confronted a man twice her size, waving a wet newspaper in his face, because he dared insinuate that our mother had been dishonest.

But the most important thing my sister taught me was courage. Not just the courage to ride the free fall ride at Frontier City, or the courage to eat fried gator tail in Florida, but the courage to face whatever life may throw at us.

One day shortly after she was diagnosed, we were talking about strength. I told her, “I could never do what you’ve done. You’re stronger than I could ever be.” Kenna stopped me and said, “No! Don’t you dare say that! I am not superwoman. You find out that you do what you have to do.” It was through her courage that she taught me how to face this day, because that’s what I am doing, and what we all are doing: “what we have to do” to make it through today and every day from now on.

So thank you Kenna, for teaching me the things that only a big sister can. I love you.

Just Do It: Nike Had the Right Idea

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."

Eleanor Roosevelt

The Best Part of the Trip

"It's kind of like going on a vacation: you plan everything out but one day you make a wrong turn or take a detour, and you end up in some crazy place you can never find on the map, doing something you never thought you'd do. Maybe you feel a little lost while it's happening. But, later, you realize it was the best part of the whole trip."

Josh Charles as Eddy in Threesome

A New Season

I began this blog several months ago without a clear vision of what it should be. I wrote a few editorial pieces, but I couldn't get excited about it. There's an editorial blog on every corner of the information superhighway, and although I love to write and enjoy a good debate as much as the next person, I didn't feel enough personal connection to that genre to write to it on a regular basis. So it sat all but inactive, the words of the sparse entries echoing off of the empty walls.

In the meantime, a nasty winter kicked in; delivering the most snow I have seen since my childhood, along with a couple of ice storms just for good measure. Even when cold stuff wasn't falling from the sky, the gloom from the clouds lingered. Punxsutawney Phil hit the top of my list (not the good one) when he accurately predicted six more weeks of frigid misery.

I found myself trying to cope with a new living arrangement, financial woes, and the serious medical problems of some close family members. My archenemy, Seasonal Affective Disorder, crept in and took hold without my even being aware of it. I spent the winter inside with the curtains drawn, in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

But then a funny thing happened. The sun came out and the weather turned warmer. I opened my blinds and my windows, and went outside. I began cleaning out the garage and I mowed down the weeds that had taken my lawn hostage, again in both the literal and metaphorical sense.

And I had an epiphany.

I knew what I needed to do with my blog. It had been staring me in the face for months, since the moment I chose a name for it at the dawn of the previous autumn. "An Invincible Summer" is part of one of my favorite quotes:

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."

- Albert Camus

If this little portion of my web presence was to be my invincible summer, I couldn't fill it with controversial topics, pet peeves, and potential debate. I had to create an atmosphere to remind me that, even in the depths of my own emotional winters, summer has not vanished. It is inside me, and you, just waiting for us to open the blinds and go outside.

Merry Christmas? Happy Holidays? Seasons Greetings? How about Stop the Insanity?!

Over the past few years the "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays" debate has raged on relentlessly. While I can think of a few dozen things that are more important than which two-word phrase someone uses to greet me during the last two months of the year, many people take the debate very seriously. One side says they want to be inclusive of all the holidays that fall between late October and early January, and the other side says that they are being excluded and repressed due to their religious affiliation.

I live in the Bible Belt, where there is only about a 14% chance I will say "Merry Christmas" to someone who does not celebrate the holiday, or at least the religious version of it.

(Because face it, Christmas has become a consumerist-driven secular holiday associated more with parties, gift-giving, and twinkly lights than with the birth of Jesus Christ which probably wasn't even in the month of December anyway, but that's an entirely different story. As far as I'm concerned, if Christians want religion put back into the holiday of Christmas, LET THEM DO IT. I loathe the month of December because of what Christmas has become. I can't even go to the store for laundry soap without being run over by some red-nosed, crazy-eyed soccer mom hell-bent on snagging the latest gadget for her already overly-sedentary kid. For the record I very briefly considered going shopping on Black Friday just to see what the fuss is all about but decided it wasn't worth it. Why go to Pamplona when I can see highlights on TV and not risk getting gored to death by a riotous bull? So yes, I would be quite happy in returning Christmas to the Christians to celebrate with the religious reverence it deserves. But I digress, utilizing what may have been the longest parenthetical aside ever written.)

The phrases "Happy Holidays" and "Seasons Greetings" are not new, politically correct terms invented for the purpose of alienating certain groups of people. I remember these phrases being used when I was a child in the groovy 70s and awesome 80s, and no one complained about it. I always assumed "Happy Holidays" to be a reference to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year all rolled into one convenient phrase. That is certainly the intention behind the phrase when I use it myself. I don't say it with any malicious or exclusionary intent whatsoever. And on the off-chance that I have an encounter with someone who is not a follower of the Christian faith, I have all my bases covered without having to guess which December holiday they choose to celebrate.

But with the rise of the Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays debate, I have my reservations about using it. No matter how sincere the words are when I say them, it is possible that the expression will be met with a displeasure that is counter-productive to the intention in which it was delivered. So what can I say that will be inclusive yet also non-offensive?

The same thing I say during the other eleven months of the year: Have a nice day. This phrase can be modified to fit the day of the week or even the time of day and it will still be a pleasantry. Paired with a smile, it can't go wrong. If someone wishes me a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, I smile and return the sentiment. Otherwise I will stick with the standard, albeit nondescript, "Have a nice day," and then I will thank my lucky stars that I don't work in retail.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go dig my Festivus Pole out of the attic and prepare for the Airing of Grievances.

Have a nice day!

Road Rules

Picture this: It's a Tuesday morning just before 8:00 A.M. and you're cruising along the interstate through a busy downtown area on your way to work. Forty-five miles per hour is about as fast as the traffic moves at this time on any given day and most days it's much slower, so you find it nice to be traveling along at about fifty-five. You see the small car in front of you slowing to allow a merging vehicle onto the highway, but the car on the access ramp isn't taking the opening. Then you realize that the "nice" person driving the car in front of you has now come to a complete stop in order to allow the other car to merge. As you slam on your brakes you glance up in your rearview mirror and see an 18-wheeler barreling down the highway behind you. To your right is a concrete wall. To your left are two lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic. You have exactly nowhere to go.

Having recently encountered this exact situation, I can tell you that avoiding death on the highway ranks pretty high on my list of morning tasks, and stupid drivers now rank higher than ever before on a different, not so friendly, list. I'm sure the person driving the car in front of me that morning thought he or she (I couldn't tell, and believe it or not, stupidity in driving is not gender exclusive) was being courteous and doing a favor for the merging car. What this mental midget didn't realize is that his (or her) "courtesy" nearly caused a massive accident for those following behind.

It's time for a list of rules.

Merging Rules

DON'T STOP ON THE HIGHWAY unless you absolutely have to! If you want to give merging traffic an opening, it's okay to slow down or even switch lanes if you have room, but DON'T STOP ON THE HIGHWAY. If they don't take the opening, too bad. They have a yield sign. Keep driving.

For the other side of this rule, you cannot merge into fast-moving traffic if you're driving 30 miles per hour on the access ramp. SPEED UP! Use your mirrors and your head (it swivels, you know) to find your opening. Adjust your speed to make the window. If merging into fast-moving traffic frightens you or makes you nervous, don't attempt it. There's no shame in utilizing the city streets. You may have to get up earlier, but you won't have to fret over merging and I won't have to make a list of driving rules.

If highway traffic is barely creeping along and there are people trying to merge, there exists an unwritten rule of alternation. If you are on the highway in that mess, leave room for one merging vehicle to go in front of you. People who ride bumper-to-bumper and merge-block are loathsome. Alternate! Or in simple terms, take turns.

There is one exception to the rule of alternation and most of us have witnessed it. If a lane is closed due to construction or an accident there's always one self-centered jackass who doesn't merge with the rest of traffic, but speeds right up to the cones and then attempts to merge. In this case it's perfectly acceptable to band together as traffic brethren and merge-block the moron. Listen, unless you have blue and red flashing lights and a siren, your destination is no more important than the rest of the travelers on the highway. We're ALL annoyed. Deal with it, and merge when you see the signs.

Highway Driving Rules

Stop texting. You have a death wish, fine. Don't take the rest of us out with you.

The left lane is for passing. It's also known as the fast lane, for what should be obvious reason. People in the far left lane are driving faster than, and therefore passing, people in the other lanes. If you are in the far left lane, you better be going faster than the people to your right. If you are not, then MOVE OVER. If you don't have an immediate opening you can at least turn on your turn signal to show the drivers behind you that you intend to move over and get out of their way. Additionally, cruising in the left lane is illegal, so not only are you building up a dam of rage behind you, but you are also breaking the law.

Conversely, if I am in one of the right lanes and I am not moving fast enough for you, please feel free to use the above mentioned left lane and pass me. Don't ride up on my bumper, don't flash your lights at me, and don't flip me off. I'm not a patient person when it comes to traffic, and these things will only make me go slower. Utilize the passing lane for its intended purpose so you can make it to your destination a minute or two before I get there, and we'll both feel better for it.

Neighborhood Driving Rules

The following situation happens to me more often than any other and it is possibly the most annoying. While driving through a neighborhood, if you encounter an obstacle on your side of the road, you should wait for oncoming traffic to clear before maneuvering around said obstacle. Whether it is a car parked at the curb, a mail or waste truck, pothole repair, or a group of teenagers taking up an entire lane to plod lazily down to the convenience store, when you go around it you place yourself in the lane of oncoming traffic. By law you are to yield, not the other way around. You will be the fault of any accidents that may occur due to your "hey, I'M driving here right now so get out of my way!" mentality. Stay on the right side of the road until the left side is clear.

Sarcasm aside, school speed limits are in place for a reason. Children don't always pay attention to what they are doing or where they are going. Please slow down. Speeding through a school zone will not save you a significant amount of time in your travels (seconds at best) but it may save lives.

 

I grew up in a small town where traffic was unheard of unless the county fair was in town, and then only if you were within two blocks of the fairgrounds. I now live in a fairly large metropolitan area and I deal with rush hour traffic on the interstate twice a day during the work week. I feel I've adapted quite well. My son thinks I have road rage. I don't think I've quite reached that level, but discourteous and idiotic drivers increase my stress level exponentially.

Obviously since you are reading this, the outcome of the situation I recounted earlier ended with all parties unscathed, but not everyone is so lucky. We all have to share the road, and there are already enough perils involved in the act of operating a motor vehicle. Don't let stupidity and selfishness add to the list.