THE ANUS

Well, Big Daddy Rowe had the run of it this week. We ended up in the ER Wednesday. I've only once seen Poppo in such pain. It was awful. 

Then the best thing happened: Dad was stationed on one of those stupid gurneys in the hall because the geniuses at Mercy couldn't construct a facility large enough for this community's needs. It's not as if we don't pay those greasy corporate bastards enough as it is. But I digress.

Dad is on the mend. Just a horrible inflammation in his throat and sizable drugs.

The visit from Bob made the whole thing worth it. I don't know that Dad would agree, but as long as he is okay, I can tell the tale.

Bob is easily 1000 years old and deaf. Bless him.

They pull him next to Pops. A curtain separates them. That, and years and intellect. 

Dad looks at me in abject misery and just shakes his head, as Bob nearly screams, "I'm Bob! I'm German!"

A few moments later, the nurse came by the super-non-HIPPA-violating-gurney and asked this poor fella if he has pain in his male areas. He didn't understand. Then the nurse asked if he had pain in his anus.

Bob said "what's that?"

It was at that moment that my father, who could barely speak, beckoned me to his bedside and whispered, "he didn't know what an anus is."

And then I knew. The film crew is somewhere beneath the gurney. I hope.

I Have THE Dream

As you know, my friends, I have a dream.

I have a dream of writing a book filled with my clearly inspired musings.

I have a dream that little children will take my life as a cautionary tale of absolutely what not to do.

I have a dream that during my lasik surgery tomorrow I will not go blind. But if I do, I will learn Braille and still harass you all. Hopefully in a bestseller. 

That's all!

(PS-- I'm thinking of titling the best seller "That's All," because it seems pretty clear that my work here is done. At least that is what Satan said at breakfast. And if you don't understand that, you should watch "Murphy Brown.")

The Funny Face

It's interesting how smells and objects can conjure up memories. Today I unearthed another of my Auntie Grace's rings and put it on. 

Auntie was a force. When she didn't get an official invitation to my boy's baby shower by a clear mistake, she sat on the couch throughout the affair with her pocketbook in her lap. She was pissed.

Anyhoo, I was looking at this turquoise ring bestowed upon me by my Auntie Grace and a couple solid memories sprang to mind:

I graduated from college summa cum laude and all Auntie said after the ceremony was "shorten your step and walk like a lady." No congrats on the academia, just some advice on the ladylike walking.

The other memory is a fave. My Nanny was in the emergency room and had to be taken for an x-ray. As a young orderly returned Nanny to the exam room, she looked at her sister, Auntie, and said, "oh, Grace, that poor boy had to see my funny face." 

That's when I knew. I was surely being filmed.

Teach on, sis!

I love teaching. Especially on days like today.

First, I took a sweet girl who has lost both of her parents out to lunch. She is a doll who has been through too much. She is a blessing to me.

Then, my 2:30 Missouri State class worked its usual magic. I assigned their informative speech and assured them the choice of topic was entirely theirs. I told them I'd heard rumor of another professor requiring his or her students to speak of a national park. I said "I gotta tell you, I'm not interested in 25 speeches on national parks." One particularly clever fella up front said, "ok, everybody, we are all speaking about Yellowstone." I'm afraid this is going to happen. More power to them.

Soon thereafter, I was lecturing on the difference in values in people. Let me back up: in an earlier speech, one girl referenced Shaquille O'Neal and said "I think he played basketball." She wasn't kidding, and the crowd went wild. So today, I asked the kids for an example of discord in values. The bright young man up front offered "well, many of us like sports and Angie doesn't know who Shaquille O'Neal is."

I attempted some more teaching but soon declared "I think the wheels are off the bus."

A girl piped up and said "were they ever on?"

I'm a tribute to the profession.

The Eyes Have It

I'm getting Lasik eye surgery in a couple weeks and lately my eyes are getting really dry. I don't know that these things are related. I digress.

I was at the home of my close personal friend and was in the bathroom. I saw what I believed to be eye drops and helped myself.

A while later, I noticed my eyes oozing some kind of oily substance. I told my close personal friend what was happening. 

Me: "I used those drops in your bathroom."

Him: (Laughing hysterically) "That is oil for my razor. Who squirts something into their eyes when they don't know what it is?"

Me: "Apparently, me."

But I'm not blind. Just blurry. Praise the Lord.

I rock.

On the Pew

My Dad says a lot of things that I deem worthy of a book. If I can ever get myself together outside of a ballpark, volleyball game or classroom, I hope to write one. For some reason, these nuggets sprang to mind. I like to keep my people entertained 😉.

I was in the youth group at church and every so often we would lead the Sunday night service. A youth would be assigned to pray and, if nervous or uncomfortable, would read the prayer.

On one fateful Sunday night, a girl read her prayer. It was a painful reading with pauses and mispronounced words and ums and uhs. I tried to keep my eyes closed.

When the service was over, all Dad did was look at me, close his eyes, and say "please, God, teach me to read."

On another Baptist occasion Dad and I were sharing a pew and a very lovely older man was singing a country song during which he would also randomly speak. At one point, Dad just leaned over to me and said, "I'll take two Bud Lights."

Bill Rowe. The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

That's all.

Auntie

My Auntie Grace had no children. She was widowed before I was born. She was my Nanny's sis. Auntie was one of the first Deans of Women in the United States, at Mississippi College. I thought she was a strong-headed champ. Albeit a tad tough.

She also hated to clean or keep house.

Sound familiar?

My parents and aunts and uncles think I'm channeling Aunt Grace. Fine by me! She was a woman ahead of her time and had better things to do than dust and sweep. I wish I wanted to do all that, but I'd rather watch Netflix and shove nails through my nails. And hang out with my kids.

I picture Auntie up in heaven with her pocketbook on her arm, saying "that's fine." And Nanny is shaking her head. And they are both watching Jeopardy and drinking gin and tonics in gold cup holders.

I miss them❤️