Vision

Way back in the second grade, when my teacher realized I couldn't see the blackboard from my desk (yes, we used chalk way back then...) my Mom took me to the eye doctor and I was blessed with a pair of tortoise, stop-sign shaped frames. They were swell. At 13 I petitioned for and got contacts, 20 years later I had Lasik and am now getting ready for my second round of Lasik. The eyes, like other body parts, let you down after a certain age. If you read this blog, you know I had a Lasik appointment with an eye doctor about 6 months ago that didn't go so well. He told me not to bother, that I was too old and then proceeded to gossip about people we have in common. And, even though his subject was someone I adore blogging about, I wouldn't bite. I like my gossip anonymous. When I got my back-up plan glasses, the prescription was wrong, but he and his staff didn't believe me when I told them I couldn't see through them. They made me keep them for a month before they would actually look at them to see that, whoopsy, the doctor transposed a measurement or two and, what do you know, I was telling the truth! Now I have found a doctor with references and a big, shiny eye center who is very nice, does not gossip, and will happily perform Lasik on my older-than-dirt eyes. He is anal to the point of exhaustion, but I like that in an eye surgeon. In two weeks I will be out of glasses once more, and will hopefully be out of them until well into my golden years, which, depending on which doctor you ask are either way down the road or knocking on my door.

Elton, how could you?

When I was little, I was very impressed with my big sister's record collection. She had a million albums which she kept in old apple crates, which I thought was the coolest. I loved looking at her albums, and truthfully, I miss the plus sized version of the lyrics, album notes and illustrations. I would listen to albums with headphones and eventually knew many by heart, right down to the weird things that would occur during a "live" recording. Which brings me to today's gross realization. As we were shopping today, we heard the Elton John song, Benny and the Jets, from his Goodbye Yellow Brick Road album, one of my old favorites. That song has always held a sweet place for me because it was a "live" and therefore "imperfect" recording. My favorite part is the off beat hand claps which sound as if the recording was in a large venue but especially the whistle near the song's ending. I did not sing along today when I heard the song, but I couldn't resist whistling in time with the whistle on the recording. I was overheard by a guy who informed me that Benny and the Jets was a studio recording, but they added "live" sounds to make it more interesting. That shakes my core, I'm telling you. I made up an entire story line for that stupid whistle! I always imagined some guy wanted to get on the record, so he waited for just the right pause and blew that whistle. Now he's immortalized! But, no. I came home and googled it and sure enough, it's a big fake! Check it out for yourselves.

http://www.answers.com/topic/bennie-and-the-jets-1

I am so upset by this, that I've been running my list of favorite "live" songs through my head, but I'm unwilling to do any more searches. If those aren't real, screaming Japanese girls on "I Want You To Want Me", I may have an existential breakdown.

Madeleine McCann

First let me just say, I can't even imagine how terrified and full of dread her parents must be. Actually, once my own three year old disappeared at an outlet mall. She was missing for only half an hour, but in that time we organized a search party, mall security closed the parking lot and everything stopped while we searched for her. By about minute 15 I had visions of her being carried off down the nearby interstate. So, I guess I've felt a small fraction of that kind of fear. Fortunately, my child was only hiding in the racks of clothes. Whenever this stuff happens I start lecturing (myself and anyone within hearing) about child safety and parenting. This always makes me even more vigilant than my normally neurotic self. I have this terrible feeling this wasn't the first time Madeleine's parents had dinner out while the babies slept back at the room. People who do terrible things like steal babies know exactly what they're doing. They probably watched these people and got to know their habits and patterns. I try to keep from having the same daily routine for this exact reason. I set the house alarm to go to the mailbox, I'm that cautious. And, not to disparage all foreign countries, but when you are out of your element to that degree, you are so vulnerable. Once on a trip out-of-country, our child got a head injury at our hotel. The hotel manager said he wouldn't recommend going to the hospital, he couldn't guarantee our safety. First I felt like the worst parent for bringing a child to such an unsafe place and second, I felt like a very small dot on a very large planet. I couldn't get home fast enough.

I am confident the enormous reward being offered will get people's tongues wagging and they will find this poor little girl. I love people like JK Rowling who get involved in cases like this and use their fortune in such a benevolent way.

In the week after Elizabeth Smart was abducted, my child was invited to a sleep-over. I asked the Mother if they had an alarm on their house. She just laughed and said they don't even lock their doors, God will protect them. I just laughed and reminded her that God gave her the locks for a reason.

I am not trying to vilify these poor parents. It just makes me crazy when people play into the bad guy's hands like this.

The Face of The Plague?

Wasn't it just yesterday I was telling my sweet tale of building backyard oases (oasises? Oh Lord, don't get me started on the vocabulary again. It's Friday, for pete's sake) for woodland creatures? And today the headlines warn of squirrels and bunnies carrying THE PLAGUE! Actually, the story just called it "plague", no capitalization or anything. Nothing to worry about, really. So, I am rethinking my weekend plans, obviously.

Foxes-yes, mooses-no

I have a "thing" for little, fluffy woodland creatures. I love squirrels, bunnies, chipmunks and foxes. Yes, I said "foxes", for that is the correct plural of "fox". I once got into a sparring match with an attorney friend over this word and was able to win my case, much to his dismay. My punctuation may be lacking, but Kristy the Wordsmith and I go way back. Where was I? Oh yes! Mice must go away, but the bigger, nicer rodents are okay with me. Most of my neighbors have bird feeders with complicated apparati* for keeping the squirrels out. I toss peanuts (unsalted in the shell) on my deck every morning to keep them coming back to my place. Mother's Day is coming, maybe you've heard? For my big day I am going to put in a Garden of Earthly Delights for my neighborhood bunnies! I'm planting all things bunnies love: carrots, clover, other veggies, and catnip so they can get a little buzz for dessert.

*Okay, the correct term is "apparatuses", but come on! Apparati sounds so much better!