Browsing Archives for Supreme Silliness

I was raised by Abraham Lincoln

October 19th, 2008


Here is a photo of Abraham Lincoln, my mom and me on a family vacation at Disney World.  

As you can see in the above photo, my dad, Abraham Lincoln always longed to be a pro tennis player and also a photojournalist.
Fortunately, as an un-schooler, he was allowed to explore these interests at his own pace and use the knowledge he gained to eventually run for President of the United States of America.  
Which he won!  
I know he won, not only because he is my dad, but also because I went to a public school where I was forced to learn what everyone else was learning and also whatever the teacher picked for me to learn.  
Trust me … I was not doing the picking.   If I had been doing the picking, my education would have consisted of round-the-clock making up of cheerleading routines with frequent breaks for back-to-back episodes of Knots Landing followed by heavy-duty fragrance sampling in Seventeen Magazine.
However my dad, Abe, had a radically different education experience.  He was allowed to choose whatever activity or subject of interest stimulated his curiosity as long as it was either chopping down trees to clear land so that crops could be planted and the family could eat for another year … or death by starvation.  Abraham usually chose chopping because his mind had not been enslaved by the horrid chains of public education and also because his free wheelin’ parents encouraged his passion by handing him an ax.  
Occasionally, after a long day of back-breaking, curiosity-filling, field clearing, Abraham would stretch out a massive hand to open one of the five or six raggedy books that his step-mom Sarah Bush Johnson treasured.   Even though his parents were cutting-edge un-schoolers for their day, Sarah and Thomas Lincoln were not able to provide Abe with hours and hours of unfettered television watching, nor could they afford a computer, which severely inhibited the amount of time Abe had to surf the world wide web and discover new things to be curious about.  It was because of this failing on his parents’ behalf that Abraham Lincoln eventually put his own daughters in the local public schools. 

One of these daughters ended up a harried, isolated, stressed out, overworked homeschooling mother of four.  

The other daughter prefers staring into space.

Here’s a photo of Abraham now … almost 150 years after he was POTUS. 
He seems to be holding up pretty well.  
You still rock, Dad.

But not quite as much as you did in your red Adidas short-set back when you took me to Disney World.
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CDW asks the BIG QUESTIONS

August 14th, 2008

I have two questions for you.  Two… burning… questions.  I would much prefer to have three burning questions for you… because two makes me feel off kilter.  So let’s hope I can think of another question before this post is over.  

Both of my questions relate to my job, which is at a Garden Center, but I am certain that people with all sorts of different jobs will be able to chime in with some possible answers…
This first question is this…
When I am helping a customer… to find a product… or to answer a question… or to serve the customer’s needs in any way… and in the middle of being helped… the customer takes a call on their cell phone… what should I do?
How long should I stand there waiting for the customer to finish the call?
Six seconds?
Six minutes?
SIX HOURS???
I have to tell you that after having been in this very situation several times now, my first impulse is not to wait at all but instead to immediately reach for a garden shovel and hit the customer over the head with it.
But that may not be the right response.
I gotta tell you though – it is irritating.  I have lots of things to do.  Lots of important things. There are plants… everywhere.  Plants that need care… and water… and pruning…  and there are floors with dirt that need sweeping and shelves with dust that need dusting and a cash register that needs to be stared at with a gimlet eye… and a phone that needs to be answered… NOT TO MENTION OTHER CUSTOMERS TO WAIT ON… 
I truly enjoy helping people and waiting on customers, but there are some limits to what I can take.  And the cell phone… the cell phone… ma’am your cell phone.. and it is ALWAYS a woman with the cell phone… I don’t know if I can take your cell phone.
No really it’s okay ma’am…  I will wait here for the next fifteen minutes while you finish your call with your sister about the weekend at the lake!
And while you are at it, go ahead and tell her all about how you helped your daughter move on Friday.  No Friday… no we moved her on Friday… my daughter.  We moved her on Friday.  
And please don’t forget to tell the person on the other end of the cell phone where you are currently standing.  
I am at the garden center… the garden center… I am in the garden center and I am standing by the geraniums… the red geraniums…. I am standing by the red geraniums… and I am getting ready to go and look at the hydrangeas… the HYDRANGEAS… we are going to go look at the hydrangeas… what?… I can’t hear you… where are you?   Are you driving?  Are you in the car?  I am at the garden center.  The garden center.  Where am I going next?  I will probably go to lunch… Lunch… Lunch at Harry’s.  I said I am going to lunch at Harrys.  HARRY’S!  I can’t hear you very well.  Are you driving?  Are you still driving?  I am still at the garden center.  I am still here at the garden center.  Are you driving?  Where are you driving? No I am not driving… I am at the garden center.  
I am not even making up the fascinating content of these paramount calls.  Well, I am mostly not making them up, but I have stood and listened to quite a few of these calls now.  Standing and waiting for the customer to get back to her question. Trying to keep my hand from reaching out and grabbing the most lethal insecticide in the store, ripping the lid off and pouring it down my throat.   Oh the burn… the blessed blessed burn and the peace… the blessed blessed peace that comes after the burn… the burn…
While the customer goes on and on…
And then I am going to go to Target.  To Target.  I am going to go to Target.  I am looking for new storage bins.  New storage bins.  I can’t hear you very well.  Are you driving?  I am at the garden center. 
So tell me gentle readers  - what do you think a humble employee in the retail industry should do when waiting on a customer that decides to take a call in the middle of being served.
Question #2 
What do you do when you have gas at work?  
Bubbly gas, ripply gas, soft feathery gas, burning gas, decroded dying animal gas, silent but deadly gas, booming gas, rubbery butt flappers, nuclear warfare gas…
What do you do when you accidentally let one rip…
I mean let one fly… 
like a delicate moth… 
ascending a ray of sunlight…
In front of a customer?
What is the best response?
Should I pretend that it didn’t happen?
Should I quickly drop something in an effort to disguise the racket?
Should I rapidly guide the customer to the fragrant hybrid roses?
Should I look askance at someone across the aisle as if he/she were the culprit?
Should I giggle shyly?
Should I say “Whoa?”
Should I say “Excuse me!”
Should I say “Did you hear that?”
Should I say “Holy crap was that me or was that you?”
Should I say”Barking spiders” like my dad always does?
Should I feign paralysis?
I am pretty good at feigning paralysis.
I am just wondering what to do…
Not that it has EVER happened TO ME or anything.
Which brings me to question #3… which I just now thought up…
What do you do if you are simultaneously helping a customer who is on their cell p

hone AND you are farting AT THE SAME TIME???

It is a nightmarish thought isn’t it!
Dear God in Heaven, I hope that never happens to me!
I am here at the garden center… the garden center… the lady that is helping me just farted… I said she just farted… she farted…SHE FARTED!  Are you driving? 
  
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God Sends Sign, Corn Dog is More Holy.

July 27th, 2008

I am not a big fan of buffet style restaurants.

Visions of gravy, next to marinara, next to potato salad, next to green jello, next to ribs, next to macaroni and cheese, next to sliced peaches next to pizza, next to imitation crab salad, next to scalloped potatoes, next to a giant vat of chocolate pudding makes me want to heave into a paper bag.
So on a recent family outing (involving a three minivan caravan to Topeka to see the CD’s brother play at the Topeka Expo Center) no one asked my opinion when it came time to pick the restaurant.

And the lead minivan chose a buffet…

Filled with righteous indignation,  I opted to fast and pray for the souls of my family.

As they chowed down in heathen iniquity…

And I guess they failed to notice that HELLO there was RED JELLO in the CHOCOLATE PUDDING!  


And bright yellow fluffy stuff next to the pears next to cottage cheese next to the green jello, next to the oh… ugh… I am not feeling so well……

Seeking a cure, I sought out the Oracle Known as the Concession Stand when we arrived at the Expo Center.  And behold, I did cease fasting as my family is certainly doomed anyway.
  

And lo, I ordered a corn dog and a diet coke.


And God placed a rainbow….

A DOUBLE RAINBOW!!!!

As the Country Doctor held a baby named NOAH!!!!

The sun and my hunger faded with the corn dog…

And a holy and unquenchable fire did enter my belly.
So that I did look unto The CD’s brother in great discomfort…
And a burning question was born.
Can you guess which picker is the Country Doctor’s brother???

Picker #1

P

icker #2

Picker #3

Picker #4
I will choose three winners from the right guesses to receive one of my cd’s.  A compact disc, not a country doctor.   

Contest ends Monday at 8 PM CST.  
Now go forth and multiply and fill the earth.
And for all this is holy and right, Stay Away from The Buffet and The Corn Dogs!
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Swimming Pool Signage

July 3rd, 2008

Today I took my kids to the pool, and yes, I spent the first ten minutes frantically scanning the water for turds while feeling kind of sick and dizzy… but then I got over it.  After I was done with the turd scan, I slipped right back into normal old Rechelle mode and unfortunately that is not exactly the world’s most comfortable pair of shoes.  For some reason I can’t really comprehend, going to our small town’s swimming pool makes me feel like I am in high school again.   It’s the old oh there’s that person over there that I kind of know, but not really and should I go over and say something or should I just sit here and feign paralysis?  I am pretty good at feigning paralysis.  Just ask the Country Doctor.  I am not exactly the most socially gifted person on the planet.  That is the job of my sister.  I spent most of my formative years standing just behind her, smiling weakly, and trying to find a dark corner in which to escape.

But there are no dark corners at a public swimming pool.  So I decided that a few signs might be helpful for people like me who suffer from mild to moderate social paralysis.  I envision these signs around the perimeter of the pool with comfortable chaise loungers and shade umbrellas and a young tanned male twenty something that brings you cold beverages and little snackies and is very interested in your blog… and doesn’t mind hearing all about it… and offers to put suntan lotion on your back and… 
What?  
Huh?  
Oh yeah signs… … so you read the signs that are around the pool and then you decide where you wanted to sit that day based on the signs…
Confused???
Here I will give you some sign examples from off the top of my head… 
1.  Moms who love to chat sit here.
2.  Moms who only like to chat with certain people (probably not you) sit here.
3.  Moms who will chat with you but only under extreme duress sit here.
4.  Moms who chat non-stop until they turn blue and do not stop chatting even if one of their children is drowning, but instead hop up, scoop out drowning child, chatting the entire time.
5.  No chatting allowed.
6.  Chat at your own risk.
7.  You can chat, but I can’t hear you!
8.  Please… somebody… come chat with me… I feel so awkward and alone.
9.  My child is the one who poops in the pool.
10.  I want to be alone… I just really, really want to be alone… no I don’t not really… but I want you to think I want to be alone… but I really desperately want someone to talk to me…
11.  Go Away!
12.  I am very comfortable staring into space, but can chat if it is really necessary.
13.  I brought a book.  I will read it if no one wants to chat with me.  And I am okay with that.
14.  Socially awkward… will say bizarre and inappropriate things… you will either love or hate me.
15.  My daughter is the one in the bikini held together with dental floss. 
16.  My son is the one with the anger management issues.
17.  I want to talk about how poorly managed the pool is and how stupid all the lifeguards are.
18.  Remember when I was that skinny?
19.  Please don’t look at my thighs… please don’t look at my thighs… please don’t look at my thighs…
20.  Please don’t look at my butt… please don’t look at my butt… please don’t look at my butt…
21.  I can’t chat, because I spend every second micromanaging my children… Stop splashing Exodus… Get your head out of the water Deuteronomy… Leviticus!  Leviticus!  Leviticus – stop swimming on your back!   Remember?  We are swimming on our sides today!  Only our sides!  Deuteronomy get behind me Satan and give that little girl back her swimsuit bottoms!  Leviticus!  Leviticus!  

22.  I am a toned machine and I come here to put it on display girlfriend.  Feel free to peruse my thighs, my butt, my six pack, my triceps and my bullet proof breasts. 
23.  No one is permitted to play with my child’s toys.
 
24.  Your child is touching my child’s toys.
25.  Come here son… Come here!  Do you see that baby playing with your toys?  Take the toys away from that baby and play with them over here by mama.  No, just take them away…  Just grab them!  GRAB THEM!
26.  Leviticus!  Get off that diving board.  GET OFF THE DIVING BOARD!!!  We discussed this at home!  You are not to be on the diving board until you have memorized the entire book of Genesis IN HEBREW!!!  We have been over this and over this!  Exodus!  PUT your swimming suit back on!
 
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Grey Gardens Fashion Show

June 22nd, 2008

When last we spoke, I was sitting in my parent’s home trying to make myself disappear so I wouldn’t have to help my sister re-decorate every single room in the house in which we grew up.  Unfortunately, April would not leave me alone until I got up and helped her move furniture and rearrange photos and hang pictures and dust shelves and move around knick knacks.  
April wanted to start in the foyer… which is directly adjacent to the coat closet… which is full of my mother’s old coats… and a few other things…  
And well… 
Um… 
Once we saw the old coats….  
Um well we just sort of got them out…  
And well… 
Then this happened…

This is me modeling my mother’s old fake fur coat.  


This is April modeling my mom’s old rabbit coat from the 1980′s when my mom was deeply into her J-Lo fashion phase.


We don’t know much about this coat, except that it is very orange.


And it makes you totally rock out.


Totally!


We decided that the chocolate brown coat looked a little too “now”.  


So I found one of my mom’s old evening gowns.


Which is clearly not now.  


And we moved outside…
For better lighting.


April, the fashion editor on the set that day, suggested we try for a Grey Garden’s look. 

And since I do everything April tells me to do, even though I am the older sister…


I went all Grey Gardens…


Then April had to go all Grey Gardens.
The Country Doctor wondered if April was undergoing chemotherapy.  
He does not know about Grey Gardens Chic.
We moved to the grass, as it was more Grey Gardeny.
We kept our head scarves firmly in place.


This is April working it.  


This is April maybe working it a little too hard…


My turn!  My turn!


Oh please no.


>


No!


I think this is the worst, most awful, most awkward photo I have ever seen of myself!  I look like a gypsy cadaver creeping up to get a pail of murky, bitter water out of that there well and use it to kill off someone’s chickens.  

Then we put our Grey Garden Garb away and finished the foyer. 
 
I brought that orange dress home with me.
I just couldn’t leave it behind.
I can’t wait to find another excuse to put it on.  
Like maybe next time I walk out to the mail box… or need to go get a gallon of milk…. or maybe parent/teacher conferences… 
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