Thursday, September 29, 2011

It’s Greek to Me

           When I was just a child, which the girls say is still going on, my family would make quarterly trips to Disney World.  It didn’t matter that most of the time we really couldn’t afford it.  Mom had had enough reality and needed an escape and it was always Walt Disney that provided it.  My sister and I had no clue about finances or that the trip would mean we would be eating potato soup all week.  All we cared about was that we were heading to the Magic Kingdom, the place of pirates and talking mice. 

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Suicide by Treadmill

My idea of physical exertion is turning the television channels without a remote, driving a stick shift instead of an automatic and buying beer with the twist-off tops. I break into a sweat just watching a sporting event on television. The one time a friend took me to the driving range, I almost killed him. Not on purpose, I promise you, and not for the ludicrous notion of inviting me, as you might think. No, I actually looked forward to going. What happened was that, although the intention was to send the ball high and far out onto the already golf ball-littered green, it went straight for his head, which was on his body parallel to me. I gave him my club and went for a banana split.

I don't exercise. This is a fact that people have come to learn and love about me. They now had someone they could point to and say. "But, Honey, I don't lay around as much as Robbie does.” And I was fine being the lower standard in athletics for my friends. It made me seem more intellectual. "No, really, you go ahead and play volleyball. I'm going to sit under this pink umbrella and read War and Peace."

Saturday, September 10, 2011

“Chicken Is My Life”

As I was growing up, my mother did everything she could to keep me from working in the real world. Her philosophy was, “Once you start working, you never stop,” which applied to everyone but those who make a career of being on welfare. She wanted me to enjoy being a kid as long as she could and for quite awhile I took complete advantage of it. My father, however, had been working since he was seven and as much as he wanted the best for his children, I’m sure he wanted us out of our chairs and earning our own Slurpee money. Parents are always saying that they work hard, so that their children don’t have to, and then we don’t work at all and they get angry. And my father worked hard, very hard.