One Reason Why Nance is the Worst

April 27, 2018

Something happened tonight.

Disclaimer: I don't mean to be cruel. But the confluence of events this evening must be reported.

I went out to dinner with my fella. Our server was a lovely girl I had in class at MSU. 

Soon enough, a large woman with a mullet, wearing an ill-fitting tank top, came to sit at the next table. It reminded me of Dorothy Zbornak's observation in "Golden Girls" that no matter where she went, she attracted the nuts. In one episode, a heavy, hairy, swarthy man sidled up beside her at a ballgame. All she said was, "what kept you?"

So tonight I was desperate to know what was on this lady's tank top. It was something about running. The irony overtook me.

In a true moment of subtlety, I surreptitiously guided my phone her way. Little did I know, the flash was on. It was at that moment that my companion was no longer tolerant of my hi-jinx.

That's when I rose from my table, found my former student, asked if she still had my number, and told her I must know what words would be found on that tank top. She promised to deliver.

In the end, the woman with the bad hair rose and I was able to read those special words: I run to throw off the crazy.

As I reflect on this evening, perhaps the crazy is Nance.

But it sure was fun.

YardoRama

April 24, 2018

Well, the John Deere and I have become reacquainted. Whilst playing with the dogs and picking up sticks, I realized it was time to mount the beauty. 

My dogs like to dig. There is a chance that,  if I exacted discipline, there wouldn't be ruts and grassless patches in my .5acre yard. I would prefer a yard that isn't perfect. One of Dad's friends lives down the street. He suggested to Pops I reseed. When Dad mentioned this, I thought, who is going to restrain these two incorrigible canines during the magical yard work?

Here is what I know: it is beautiful out and I am outside. Thank you, Lord. I have a house and grass. And a riding lawn mower for the conquest. And two pups who chase me during the fight.

MisPositive

April 23, 2018

I was 13 or 14 when "Steel Magnolias" came out. There is a chance I've watched it 100 times. 

But here is the deal: when the 30th anniversary of the film rolled through last year, I read an article about the filming. Apparently it was hot as hell during filming. Everyone was playfully griping about sweating through their drawers, except for Dolly Parton. One of her costars asked why she was not on the complain train. She said she had been so poor for so long, when she made it, she would never complain about a thing.

Now, I am negative for sport. But Dolly's perspective gave me pause. I am truly grateful for everything I have. I know I must give solid voice to that more.

But if you are one of my best friends, we know how these phone calls will go. 😉

A Joan Truism

April 22, 2018

I've been watching quite a bit of Joan Rivers in you tube of late. I always loved her, even when she jacked up her face with plastic surgery.

As you know, her husband killed himself, as did my mom. 

So I was watching an old interview with her and Dick Cavett. Her remark was that Edgar's death didn't make her think about the kind of friends she had, but the kind of friend she wanted to be.

To all my friends out there: I want to be there, no matter the weather. You know? And thanks for always always always being there for ol' Nance.

Also, she said "I'm so over housework. They clean their feet when they leave." 😂😂😂 I'm on board with that as well.

That's all.

Jim

April 20, 2018

Tomorrow my son plays in a baseball tournament at Ewing Field.

Jim Ewing was one of my Dad's best friends. When Jim got ALS and began to die, he had a little device from which he could communicate. The disease was attacking his throat first. I was in junior high. He was like a member of the family. 

We were just a few blocks away from them. After Jim died, Dad and my brother and I would ride our bikes to see his widow, Mary. Mary was hysterical, in my view. She always sat in the same chair and wore a house dress. And she always offered us soda, which thrilled me, because we didn't have any at home.

Jim Ewing was a man among men; and he meant the world to my Pops. Playing at the field named for him means a lot to me. I like to think he is smiling in a land where all is well. The fact that we are playing at 8am...I will let that go.

The SMS sweats

April 16, 2018

I've had a pair of SMSU sweatpants since I was 12. When I got taller, I cut off the bottoms at the heel. I've slept in them for 30 years.

Tonight I came to find the dogs had ripped them up. I almost cried.

I grew up at Missouri State. For heaven's sake, when I was in labor with Gracie, I was wearing a threadbare Tournament of Champions 1986 tshirt. I still have it.

It was a privilege to be a child of SMS. I will miss the maroon cutoffs.

Auntie G

April 15, 2018

I was the the niece of an elderly, childless woman. She happened to be a favorite. One of the first Deans of Women in the country. And the sister of my Nanny.

Nanny was everything to me. But Aunt Grace kicked some ass. My mother was named for her. My daughter was named for them both.

She would roll into the living room with her pocketbook on her elbow. Nanny would be watching "Days of our Lives" and wouldn't speak. Auntie would leave, angry. 

But this blue ring she found so many years ago. Every time she wore it, I told her how much I adored it, and how it looked on her hand. 

There was a time when when we thought she might die. Gratefully, she lived on. But she gave me the ring then. She wanted me to have it. She was afraid someone might try to swipe it.

I wear it every day.

At that time, my debate squad began to win in ways that were solid. So I would not go to a tournament without the ring. One time I made a student drive to my home to retrieve it. Another time, I held up the charter bus to get it from the hotel room because I'd forgotten it.

Auntie was committed to excellence. This ring is just a thing. But, to me, it is my fierce Auntie with me every day.

She was a character, but I miss her, and she is a part of me. You know what? You  don't have to birth a baby to help raise one❤️. That's all.

Negative Nance

April 12, 2018

I have a tendency to gripe. If you know me well, you will not be blown to bits by that revelation. Honestly, my bitching is usually just for sport. It helps me cope and it usually makes people laugh. I would love to be more naturally positive. Um, I'm not.

But tonight I'm sitting in 80 degree wind watching my very bright, ambitious and beautiful daughter play soccer. Now, don't get me wrong: I don't understand or especially enjoy the soccer. However, I am in the stands taking stock of what a charmed life I lead. I live in Freedom House with my wonderful babies and pups and I have three great jobs and amazing parents and friends. So, if I'm going to give voice ad nauseum to what goes wrong, what goes right deserves a megaphone, as well.

I've done plenty that deserves some trouble at the behest of the God I love. And I've gotten some trouble. But by and large, I don't know a girl with a better scene.

I'm grateful. To the Almighty, I give thanks. 

And no worries--the next time I'm not a happy camper, you will know. ;)

Mimi

April 4, 2018

My Mimi went blind when I was 8. 

She caught on fire when my Dad was in junior high. Her dress caught in the stove. Dad threw her into the snow to put out the flames. She spent weeks in bed and my heroic Aunt Di took over her duties on the farm.

Mimi played the piano at Buck Prairie Baptist Church well into her blindness. She remembered all the songs. She was brilliant.

Now I will make it about me. I'm starting to see her in my skin. I used to sit on the back of her sofa and roll her hair into pinwheels while we watched Johnny Carsen. Or I would just sit with her and look at her hands. I am starting to see her hands in mine.

It's ok. I've abused my skin with the sun. But it's more than that. I'm not 91, which was her age when she left us. But I see glimpses. And as much as I hate all the aging, I'm transported back to her couch in Aurora when I would describe to her what was happening on "The Guiding Light" because she could listen but couldn't see.

Any part of Mimi is a gem. Even if it is skin that is no longer youthful. She was a champ. I will never be the amazing lady she was. But to look down and see her hands...I will take it.