It's My Blog, so . . .

As I thought about those words and phrases I began writing yesterday--about love, its ins and outs--I sang through a very old song, "Everything I Have Is Yours," (Billy Ekstine sang it in the 1940s). 

In the song is this line "I'd be happy just to spend my life waiting at your beck and call." And I knew it was beck and call, not beckon call, but I wanted to know where that phrase came from, so I googled it. From Phrase Finder I learned that it began in England in the 14th century and means to be totally subservient to someone. 

"Beck" is a word. It is not a word we use anymore, except in the phrase I'm talking about: beck and call. Beck is not the same as "beckon," which means to silently call or signal someone to come. However, we sometimes say or spell things wrong. You know that. And some folks think the phrase is "beckon call." It's not. 

And here I quote from Phrase Finder:

Just because 'beckon call' is based on a mishearing doesn't mean that it won't one day become accepted as proper English. Other phrases, like 'beg the question' for instance, are routinely used incorrectly by so many people that the incorrect usage has now become the standard. Let's hope 'beckon call' dies a natural death, not only because it is essentially just a spelling mistake but because its adoption would signal the last gasp of the enjoyable little word 'beck'.

By the way--and this is your friend Carol again--you may notice the single quotation marks and the period outside the mark in the above quotation. 

Or you may not notice, which is more likely, and please don't take offense here.

But I noticed, not because I'm perfect or even wonderful, but just because I notice this stuff. Anyway, the use of punctuation should tell you the article was written in England. I have left off any quotation marks because I can because this is my blog. But mostly to avoid confusion.

And, remember, in America we always put commas and periods inside the quotation marks, whether we're quoting a word, a phrase, a sentence, or a whole paragraph. Or, at least, that's the rule. Which means that in this article we would use double quotation marks where they use single, and we would put the period inside. Get it?

The sublime to the not so sublime

Last night, just after I opened my bedroom window, an owl came and perched on the metal shelf (from when I had an air conditioner in the window). Between us was only the window screen. We were three inches apart.

I think the owl came because of the sparrows who nest in the bird house on my deck, maybe snatch one for dinner. But I can't be sure.

She was a beautiful bird and might have stayed beyond a few seconds if I had not moved. But she startled me, and I moved and said, "Well, hello." Then she was gone. I'm glad I saw her.

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Today, as I pulled to a stop at the red light--at the top of the Broadway exit--I saw the man. A panhandler. 

Certainly not an uncommon sight at those freeway exits. Several months ago I stopped at the Garrity exit in Nampa and witnessed a fight between two panhandlers, one holding a sign asking for money, the other folding his sign and slipping it into his back pocket. Clearly a practiced move. 

The fight was over the place. One claimed this was his spot and demanded the other "get lost." The other said "I got here first."

The light turned green, and I left. I don't know if they came to blows.

Today's guy held a sign, too, of course. His said, "Bet you can't hit me with a quarter." 

I wonder if you're thinking what I'm thinking. 

A quarter? Does he really want a quarter?

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It isn't warm today. A little rain in the morning and not a lot of heat after that. It's 3:30 and not 70 degrees yet. Strange weather this year. No?

It Is the World We Live In

I am distressed. I never turn on the tv in the morning but did today. CBS featured, or at least announced it would be a feature story, "the woman banned from the Mormon church." Excommunicated. That is actually what happened to her. I did not watch it. I went for my walk instead. And I wonder WHY this is worthy of national news. 

 Reminds of a scripture. Matthew 6:5.

Of course I know what the story is about. I know what the woman wants, and I don't hate this woman, but I have no sympathy with her or her cause.

  

Not a cake walk

I have walked four days this week.  Five days last week. I go out in the morning, as early as I can get myself out there. I'm not asking for praise, just imparting the information. After all, it's only thirty minutes. No big deal.

Except that it is.

Before I start out and several times while I am walking, I say out loud--well, not too loud in case there are people nearby--"It doesn't have to be fast; it just has to be done." I know it's good for me, even a slow walk, although it doesn't help my flabby arms.

I also try to tell myself, "It will get easier." This is hard to believe, but I want to believe it.

I haven't been to Curves at all this month, but I may have to go back. We'll see.

The Facts

Okay, so I turned on my heat last night, and it makes me so mad. It's June 19th, for crying out loud. And I'm COLD in the house and out of it. I mean, I wore socks to bed last night and got all the way under the covers.

Should I have to do such things at this date?

Today, I've got it up to 67 in my house, but I'm thinking I'd better turn it off again because it's supposed to be 86 today--not until 6 o'clock tonight, though--and 93 on Sunday.

Oh, I know. This is all too negative. So here is the positive.

I have a wonderful furnace. And air conditioner. And a good house. And I could mention my family, they're wonderful, too.

Gotta run. I'm going into the kitchen, turn on the oven, and stand in front of it for a while.

It's the world we live in

The Broadway hit, The Book of Mormon, winner of nine Tony awards, is coming to Boise this summer.

I am sure it will be a sell-out, but I will not be buying. It distresses and disturbs me, and the fact that it won nine Tony awards indicates to me the low level that "taste" has descended to. Can it sink lower? No doubt.

Because I have not seen the show, I know only bits about it. I know that it is filled with profane, and worse, language, and I find the entire idea--to hold up to ridicule something that people hold sacred--profane itself.

The other thing I know is that one of its stars is a "Mormon," sort of. Or was. I know his name but will not put it here, since I have found him smug, self-important, and highly offensive the few times I have seen him.

Just now, this week, I have seen him in his ads for his US News column. He attempts to adopt a professional/writerly persona, in his dinner jacket and with his pipe. Does anyone still smoke a pipe? (That question, I know, is neither here nor there.) He is a little man, that is, short. He is heavy. Still, he is, I believe, quite successful and owes his success to The Book of Mormon. However, I think the TV show in which he starred flopped.

By the way, the ad is silly.

Yes, I have strong feelings here and have not left you in the dark about them. Sometimes I try very hard not to be judgmental. Not working here. Still, one must use judgment and discernment in what one supports and approves.

I hope not to offend anyone, but if I have, sorry-ish.

Sorry. This stuff just happens.

Today as I drove down Park Center Blvd I noticed white paper-like things flying in the air now and then. They looked almost like toilet paper, but how could that be?

Then I got to the signal and saw I had been following a guy pulling a trailer with an outhouse on it. Creeped me out.

A little later, 8th Street, I was at a red light. A young woman on a bicycle pulled up right next to me. With the green light I let her go first, so she would be safe. As I started out, wanting to stay wide of her, I looked up to see her very short black skirt blow in the wind. Up, up it blew revealing her underwear. A thong. You know, in that instant I saw much more than I expected, having expected nothing, and much, much more than I wanted. Creeped me out.

I suspect you're also creeped out.

Do the Best I Can

I'm starting a new campaign, one of pure self-interest. It is this: Be positive about myself. It involves not saying and eventually not thinking the negative things about myself that have so much characterized my recent thoughts and speech.

Like, while in Utah (but it hasn't mattered where I have been) I may have said some variation of "I'm old" at least 35 times. And why? I'd like to know. Does it get me anywhere, make me feel good? No. Of course not.

And worse things have come out of my mouth about me. 

And I don't know what effect these things have on hearers or what effect I may have hoped for.

So I say Stop it! Stifle those negative self-slurs, Carol. You can do it.

This Day in History

Today marks 70 years since D-Day, the Allied invasion of those Normandy beaches.  I was alive then but do not remember the day. I was not yet four years old.

Growing up in a home where Republican was the political persuasion and republican our values, I was never--once I became old enough to understand these things--a fan of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. But here I reprint his speech, a prayer, on the eve of D-Day. I appreciate it
At that time I believe this prayer was nationally well-received and appreciated. Today, of course, people protest about it.

Franklin Roosevelt's D-Day Prayer 

June 6, 1944

My fellow Americans: Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far.

And so, in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:

Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our Nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.

Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.

They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.

They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest-until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men's souls will be shaken with the violences of war.

For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and good will among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.

Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.

And for us at home -- fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas -- whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them--help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.

Many people have urged that I call the Nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.

Give us strength, too -- strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.

And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.

And, O Lord, give us Faith. Give us Faith in Thee; Faith in our sons; Faith in each other; Faith in our united crusade. Let not the keenness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogancies. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister Nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.

Thy will be done, Almighty God.

Amen. 

Randomish

I found out how I really feel about squirrels.

You know, or should know, that I have written many times that I see them as rodents, which they are. Pesky, ever-present. Rats with bushy tails. But as I drove past White Pine school last Thursday on my way out of town, a squirrel ran out into the street, started to turn back, but instead came on and ran under my car. I heard the thump and knew I had hit him. Sure enough, he lay in the street as I drove away.

I felt terrible. I may have thought once or twice that I'd like to buy a gun and use it to shoot squirrels. No.

*     *     *

Carol R is a close talker. Really close. The first few times we ever had a conversation, I backed up. I thought maybe she didn't mean to be so close. But now I just stand in there and take it. I mean we're almost close enough to kiss. We don't, though. And that is one thing I can be glad for. 

*     *     *

As I drove around the curve where the new construction is and came to the knoll with trees, I saw a deer just lounging in the shade. Very unconcerned. And it seemed quite right to see such a thing. Right here in downtown Boise.