The Winter of Discontent

I am tired of the cold weather. I don’t know how Eskimos and yodelers do it. I just want to stay inside in the house under a warm blanket and watch TV. But then you turn on the TV and what do you see? MORE snow . . . on the Olympics. It’s cold everywhere.

Actually, I’ve hardly watched the Winter Olympics this time around, but I want to. Unfortunately, the few times we have turned them on, all they’ve shown is non-sporting events, like curling. The kids and I get so aggravated that we say things like, “Aaargh,” but my husband is fascinated by curling and thinks it’s cool. He says everyone watches it at work every day. Of course, he works with software developers - go figure. But Joe’s tastes are sort of weird anyway. He’s been like that since the summer he worked in the glue factory. Unfortunately, he gets outvoted on this one, so when curling comes on, we change the channel to a Family Guy rerun. Joe's a good sport. He no longer becomes violent about it.

Anyway, the snow has kept the whole family busy. All we’ve done for a month is shovel or come inside to thaw. In the beginning of the season, some nice people shoveled for us, but when we called the cops on them for getting on our property without permission, they stopped helping. I guess the cold made them cranky too.

To boost the family’s morale, I’ve been cooking and baking more. That hasn’t worked well because, who are we kidding, I can’t cook or bake. I used to bake well, but our oven is on the fritz. It turns off whenever it pleases, even in the middle of a cake. It’s like it’s on strike. The washing machine and dryer are in on it too. The washer fills with water and then won’t agitate. If you hit it, it’ll start working again. It’s sort of like children. The dryer produces dryer-like sounds, but really does nothing. It’s more of a figure-head appliance, like a vice-president. My husband wants to buy new appliances, but I’ve insisted we wait until the end of March so we can get them for Raphael’s birthday.

Some people replace old stuff just because they want something new. I believe you shouldn’t get rid of anything until it’s fully dead or useless. I said that to Joe that on our wedding day and have lived by my words. For example, we once had a hamster that died, but I didn’t bury it for a week just to make sure it wasn’t hibernating. Some animals do that. Like llamas.

We also keep our cars until they’re dead. My husband drives a sporty red Mazda Protégé that was really nice back in the 1990s. Of course, now it no longer holds its hubcaps or its fluids, but surely that doesn’t mean we should “put it down,” as they say. If I get rid of it, what message am I sending my children? Will they get rid of me when I can’t hold my fluids?

We may have old stuff, but, let me tell you, we live like kings. Our house has a few TVs, and two of them are color sets. The black-and-white is a 9-inch TV with a rotary dial and up to 13 channels. We also have a 19-inch color TV that turns on by itself at random times. Can your TV do that? Our big-screen TV, the 27-incher, has a problem where the volume suddenly goes up to the highest level possible. Other people would throw out the set, but I tell the kids quirkiness is charming. Maybe I've used that expression too much. The boys now purposely act quirky around girls – talking suddenly loudly for no reason. Hopefully, they’ll grow out of that.

But none of us in the family are into "stuff." We are much more interested in food and travel. Stuff has no meaning, but the fun of traveling and eating are memories that last for hours, sometimes days.

Anyway, I am looking forward to warmer days when I can finally complain about the heat. Meanwhile, I’ll have to keep cooking and stay cozy with the family after a long day at work. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how cold it was or how old things are around you, it just matters what’s on TV that night.

Oops! I just realized whole purpose of this posting was to share with you the results of the Thanksgiving Day survey, but thanks to Olympic athletes and my mutinous appliances, I have no room left! Thanks for nothing Steve Holcomb and Bode Miller! You’ve ruined my blog once again.

Comments:
I didn't know a llama could hibernate. I did know Buckeyes hibernate after the last football game. They didn't hibernate as quickly this year because they finally won a bowl game. 2/28/10
~~ Woody Wolverine, NJ

The Olympics were awesome! 2/28/10
~~ Carol, PA

Readers: My toaster is now part of the mutiny too. One side is working, and the other side won't do anything. What is going on here? Are your appliances rebelling in masses too? 2/28/10
~~ Jackie

Does your drier drop the F-bomb too? 3/24/10
~~ Brenda Jamison, Dayton
Jackie's comment: Yes, if F means Fluff.

As it so happens, our appliances are acting out of sympathy to your appliances. Our toaster is on strike. But only on the left side. The knob that your press down (is it a knob? a handle? what do you call those things on toasters that you press to make the toast go down?) falls off quite a bit and the left crumb tray doesn't want to go to its home. Also, our dishwasher is acting very flaky. By my logic, that means we need to use our toaster oven when the toaster dies, and we need to buy both a new dishwasher and a new oven (when the $ fairy stops by). Very sound logic. 3/24/10
~~ AJR, Dayton, OH

I'm Pretty Sure I'm Better Than You . . . Now that Joe has a Job

I know I haven’t written in a long time. I had nothing to say, but NOW I’ve got news to write about. My husband got a job. It was back in September, but I didn’t know how to tell you. Do you recall that Joe was laid off this year? It was awful, but that's all over now.

Joe’s new job is the kind of position everyone dreams of. He works at an extremely selective high-tech firm. They hire the most technically qualified software developers to work on cutting-edge technology. It’s an exciting atmosphere, a veritable think-tank of elite innovators. Joe cleans up any messes these men create while they are brainstorming in the conference room. He also cleans the floors around their desks and sometimes dusts and vacuums when the employees complain. He’s so happy, and we are too!

Having an income again lifts a giant boulder off our shoulders. When we heard the news, we celebrated much like Eagles and Buckeye football fans do after a win – we overturned cars and set things on fire. But that celebration was short-lived because we only had one matchbook.

Having a job changes everything. To be able to eat fancy foods again, buy things we don’t need, get bank loans we can’t pay back, and spend excessively is just such a relief. It’s more than a job. It’s the American dream.

In fact, I remember the moment Joe got the phone call. I had just gone out to the woods behind our house to rustle up a raccoon to cook for dinner when the kids excitedly called to me, "Mom, come in! Big news!” My husband didn’t even have to tell me what the news was. The first thing that ran through my mind is that I wouldn’t have to look for a dead raccoon to eat that night. I said, “Family, we aren’t poor anymore! Get in the car. We’re heading out to Wal-mart to buy a gun.” The children cheered. They knew that meant we’d no longer have to wait for the woodland creatures in our back yard to die of natural causes. We’d be shooting our supper that night, just like everyone else in Idaho. The kids went wild and my husband was too choked up to talk.

Getting a job doesn’t only affect our family. It changes the lives of those around us. When we had no income, I had to find creative ways to feed a family of five. I had to steal lunches from the refrigerator at work. That was horrible, especially because I framed Norm Madison when people began to suspect me. It crushed me to see him fired in shame, especially so soon after he recovered from that lung transplant after his wife left him. I’ll bet when Joe’s previous employer laid him off, they never realized how many people that layoff would effect – Norm Madison didn’t deserve to lose his job, but this is what happens in a bad economy. I’m disgusted just thinking of it. But now that Joe has a job again, I no longer need to think about people like Norm.

Nor do I have to hang out with false friends who have lots of money but no real substance. They care about superficial things, and hanging out with them just to get free dinners and gifts turned my stomach. Now that I have the money to go to dinner by myself and buy my own stuff, I don’t have to listen to their blathering. Thank goodness I’m out of THAT scene.

The sad part is that the layoff affected the children. My poor sons didn’t have a single friend over to celebrate their summer birthdays, but once again we can afford to hire child actors to pretend to be their friends. Part of the reward of parenting is seeing your children so happy. I’m giddy thinking of all we can do again.

Good things come out of bad, though, and one good thing was a life lesson we learned. This is serious. Many people equate their jobs with their self worth. Sadly, what job you have represents your status in this society. But always remember that how you treat people of a “lesser” status allows the world to see what's deep within your heart. Our family is above that pettiness. We always remember who are friends are, and even though we no longer associate with the little people, especially those who are poor, we still have very fond memories of them. Our plan is to replace those old memories with better memories of our newer, more affluent friends. In fact, it's our New Year's resolution. Have a great January and Happy New Year!

P.S. I have to get a hysterectomy soon, and in the spirit of giving back, I've decided to donate my uterus to the poor. Now that's what I call generous!<>

Happy Thanksgiving -- Quick Note

Happy Thanksgiving to all. PLEASE TAKE THE THANKSGIVING POLL ON THE RIGHT. I want to learn about our readers' traditions. Choose all your favorite answers, and I promise I'll give you the results.

We are spending Thanksgiving at home with the kids. Unfortunately, Roberto has the flu, so we can't include him in the celebration. His fever went up to 102.8 today! We're sad about that, but we're all hoping he'll be well enough to help clean the dishes after the meal.

Thanksgiving means a lot to many people. My mom always made such a lovely feast when I was a child, and though it was just the five of us, we'd always dress up nicely and really enjoy the holiday. (For example, one year I dressed as a ghost and my sisters dressed as penguins.) Just kidding. Something special to me is that Mom was always in a nice dress, and dad would wear a shirt and tie. We'd wear our Sunday best to celebrate. That made it really special for me.

We no longer travel to see our parents for Thanksgiving, but that's what happens when one lives 500 miles away.

I'm thankful for my entire family, for friends, for good health, for Wednesday- and Thursday-night TV, for Martini and Rossi Asti Spumante, and lastly, for dark chocolate Raisinets. Today would have been my Nana's birthday if she were still alive, so I'm thankful for the time I spent with Nana too.

Thank you to the troops overseas who are always in our thoughts and prayers.

Everyone stay safe and don't eat too much turkey. I hear the strycknine in it will make you pretty sleepy! Happy Thanksgiving!
~ Jackie

COMMENTS:I did not know a llama hibernates. I guess that's why I don't see any walking around during the winter months. With all this winter snow, I'm sure many animals are starting to hibernate that usually wouldn't. Many Buckeyes hibernate once football ends and if they don't win their opener, they continue to hibernate until that first win. Michigan will hibernate through the entire season.
~ Johnny Wolverine, N.J.

Halloween: THE American Holiday

Today is Halloween. Do people celebrate Halloween in other countries? I could take a few seconds to Google it, but I’m too lazy. I’ll choose to remain ignorant.

I love how everyone in America passes out free candy every Halloween night without giving it a second thought. Why has no generation ever stopped it? I’ll tell you why. It’s because everyone puts their weirdness aside on this one night just to make little kids happy. What a sweet holiday.

Anyone can trick-or-treat in this country, regardless of your race, creed, or religion. Correction, they do discriminate when it comes to age, but I’ve gotten around that by choosing good costumes to hide my age. For example, I’m 44, so I’m going out this year as a 43-year-old.

Halloween is something Americans take for granted, but for any immigrant, especially those of us who came over in our youth, the holiday is just one more thing that makes this country magical. I was in the first grade when I came to America. Kids at school told me that you just knock on people’s doors and people give you chocolates, candy cigarettes, Milk Duds, and more. Free of charge. No strings attached. My imagination ran wild as I envisioned our kitchen being so full of treats that we couldn’t even move around.

My mom worked at the Woolworth’s five-and-dime store, so she took us there to buy costumes one night. “Choose any one you want,” she said.

The selection was sparse, as most of the costumes had been sold. My sisters probably chose princess costumes, but I spied a very special outfit that was calling to me, and somehow there were lots of this one costume left. It was Nancy. You know, Nancy from the newspaper comic strip? She was a character who made her debut in the 1930s. (I wasn't alive yet.) The comic strip rose to great success, especially in the 1960s and 1970s. Nancy was simple, innocent, and maybe not so funny, but I was all those things too, so it was fate that I was drawn to her costume.

I put on my Nancy outfit as soon as I got home and immediately went door-to-door in search of candy. People looked puzzled when I said, “Trick or treat." Maybe I was doing it wrong. The elderly neighbor lady gave me some ribbon candy left over from the previous Christmas. I got very few treats, but I did get a proposition from two creepy men who lived in the basement of our apartment building. I turned them down. What they showed me wasn’t candy. That’s when I figured out it wasn’t Halloween night. You have to trick-or-treat on a specific night. Good to know. I logged that important tidbit in my diary, lest I make the same mistake twice.

Undaunted, when the real Halloween night came, my sisters and I raced from door to door, looking for treats. The adults would make comments as they opened the door and looked us over. “Oh, you’re a witch; what a cute princess. . . .” Then they’d look at me questioningly, apparently disgusted by my choice of costume. “And what the hell are you?” one asked. (That's a direct quote from Father McCleary.)

“I’m Nancy from the newspaper,” I’d chirp. People would sigh, as if I had wasted their time. In those days, no one was too happy to see an immigrant to begin with, but one with an Indian accent who didn’t even know what to dress as for Halloween seemed to produce a lot of “tisk-tisk” type sounds. One pregnant woman punched me, and many a door was shut in my face right after my sisters were fawned over and given extra treats. It was a tough neighborhood.

But I didn’t care. I had candy, and I felt invigorated. I looked past the threatening taunts of “Go back to India!” I ran from house to house with the breeze flowing through my hair, giddy from the fumes of the lead-based paint on my cheap, plastic Nancy mask. I'd pull it off my face to get air from time to time, but suffocating or not, I kept going. In those days, there were no Halloween curfews, so the night went on and on. To this day, I can’t remember a happier night in my life. Not my wedding night. Not the night my first son was born. Not even the first time I went to a Taco Bell. This was something more special than all of that. I felt so happy that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, and that’s just what I did. I yelled things like, “Happy Halloween!” and “Only in America!”

When I got older, I continued to trick or treat into my teens and learned of another perk of Halloween. Annabel (my sister) and I kept going back to one particular house just to see the gorgeous guy who was answering the door. We had already knocked twice within the last ten minutes, when we knocked again a third time. This time, the man was annoyed, saying, “Haven’t you girls been here twice already?” That’s the day I hung up my Nancy costume forever! Thanks for nothing, good looking guy.

Now when Halloween comes around, I look at those little kids dressed as ghosts, goblins, and princesses and I’m horribly jealous. I want the candy. I want to rip their little masks off and run away with their bags of chocolates, but each generation gets its turn, so I fight such urges and the voices in my head. I just answer the door, dutifully distributing the old cough drops and expired medications we cleaned out of our medicine cabinet the week before. Happy Halloween everyone. It is your patriotic duty as an American to appreciate this holiday, so enjoy it!
-- Jackie

P.S. Thanks to my youngest son, Roberto, for putting Monster Mash, the only Halloween song I know, on this blog. The Nancy comic strip was provided by my oldest son, Hans. My middle son is a dud.

COMMENTS:

I knew it was YOU giving out those sticky old lozenges to the kids. You should be ashamed! -- Angry neighbor

I said "heck." -- Fr. McCleary

Let's see, you're from India, your son is Hans and the other is Roberto. This has got to be a disfunctional family after all. Can't wait to see what you do for Christmas. You do celebrate Christmas don't you or are you Indians of the Jewish religion? -- Anonymous
I lied about being from India to throw you off. It's easier to pretend to be one of 1.7 billion people. I'm really from Liechtenstein, but if I told everyone that, it would be easy to guess my identity. There are only two of us Liechtensteinians with sons named Hans. And, no, I'm not Jewish, but I love latkes! -- Jackie

Just to let you know, Halloween in the UK is awful!! No kids came to my house trick or treating!! It's pathetic. -- k-bomb