"What are them others put here for . . . ?"

 

                                          "It's a two way street"
           

  A church school teacher told her class, "Girls and boys, we were put here to help others."  After a moment of reflection, one 7 year old boy asked, "What were them 'others' put here for ?"

       Maybe she was trying to instill in those youngsters an awareness of the "Golden Rule". You know, treat other people in the same way you would want to be treated.  And that principle appears prominently in Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and other major world religions as well as in Christianity. 

    A prominent bioethicist asserts that : "the foundational questions about ethics are about what we owe others, not just ourselves, not just our family and friends."  And, she concluded sadly  that "Americans do not agree about the duty to protect others, whether it's from a virus or gun violence."

    Her comments appeared in a recent New York Times column entitled "For Older Americans, the Pandemic is Not Over". Being right on the cusp of turning 85, I found grim statistics in that piece.  Last month (January 2023), "about three-quarters of Covid deaths have occurred in people over 65." Those 65 and over accounted for "about 90 percent of the nation's Covid deaths." 

    So, what about any responsibility "them others" who are at lower risk for Covid have for those at higher risks.  Regrettably, for many reasons, a high percentage of elders are not taking precautions for their own well-being.  Avoiding transmitting contagion rests on all of us.  

    Society has "opened up" with many pre-Covid activities resuming. Far from being hermits, many of us want to return to "normality" but the enduring risks mandate caution.  In that same article, a 67 year old Charlotte, N.C., woman who along with her husband recently experienced a particularly harsh Covid case explained their resumption of activities: "It's a risk I'm willing to take. I feel like I'm living life on my terms, doing the things  I want to do." I counted five first person pronouns : I and my.  There was no mention about whether they were exercising precautions for the sake of others, like wearing a mask.

    Remember Sinatra's boast "I did it my way" ? Runs counter to the old fashioned (some might say 'outdated') notion of 'commonwealth' . . . our mutual well-being. In another recent NYT article , David French maintained that "what we do for others is infinitely more rewarding than what we ask them to do for us."  Said another way, I am wearing my mask not only for me but also for you because we are still in this together.

    A man who recently lost his elderly father to Covid still encounters comments from strangers because he wears a mask in public pleads, "people just need to care about other people, man. That's my soapbox."

    Mine too !

         Satchel

   

HARBINGERS . . .

 GROUNDHOG FORESHADOW ?

HARBINGER noun . . . something that foreshadows a future event; something that gives an anticipatory sign of what is to come   

The mammalian weather prognosticator aka  "Weather Prophet Extraordinary", (among other titles), Punxsutawney Phil rendered his shadowy prophesy for this year.  When he left his burrow, he saw his  shadow and we are in for six more weeks
of Winter. Phil's batting average for accuracy over the past decade or so is a mediocre 40%.  That was in Pennsylvania and here's hoping that his jurisdiction does not extend to North Carolina where everything was gloomy and overcast. As it happened, there was no prediction from our  state's groundhog, Sir Walter Wallie. After several years of forecasting, he has          decided to retire.                                                        

         Winter around here has generally been 'mild', no snow, no ice, with few mornings of scraping car
windows.  Elsewhere in  the US, other kinds of weather  have been the norm.  Pictures of pre- Christmas monster snows in northern states and more recently ice-storms in the mid-west appeared frequently on tv. The calendar indicates about six more weeks before the equinox occurs at 21:25 (9:25 pm) on March 20 and Spring officially springs.  Even so, the myth of Phil's status as a harbinger of Spring's advent still holds sway for many.  This year that could mean bad news. There was a FB meme going around showing a female groundhog, Phil's ex-wife in Florida, who left him because he was allegedly
an habitual liar.               

Walking through our yard and a nearby vacant lot  last week, I spotted another kind of harbinger.  Remember the saying "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind," ? Right in the midst of dormant bushes and trees, these beauties and those below foretold warmer, more colorful times :

Soon, the drab grayness will be replaced by a riot of   colors.

     Not only  does "Winter" occur as a calendar Season but for many it is a "season" of their heart, of their spirit, of their emotions.  Not surprisingly, harbingers of hope and relief are eagerly sought.  
Likely, these will not be found in the "shadows"; rather, more likely in either "bright spots" and sometimes in unexpected times and places like these flowers.

Satchel   

 

Bells and Whistles

 

       

    He called my computer "obsolete". . . the cursor had become unreliable.  So I 'chatted' on line with a support person and described the situation. When I told him the model number and year of purchase (2012),  he gave a couple of possible 'solutions' for my 'obsolete' model.  When I asked about bringing it  to a nearby retail store for repair by one of their 'geniuses', he broke the verdict clearly . . . they no longer service my model. 

  A reliable computer is a 'must' for my profession.  After researching model options, I selected the one seemingly best suited for my work and drove to the store.  The Associate who assisted me was very knowledgeable, helpful and patient with my less than eloquent tekky vocabulary.  And, sure enough, he confirmed that my selection did not have unnecessary "bells and whistles".

   Even so, my new computer has  more of those "bells and whistles" than I will ever use or need.  I decided to consult word-smiths (aka dictionaries) for some clues about the meaning of that cliche. In no particular order, here are some offerings: gadgetry, added features, ingenious device, frill, doodad, flashiness, adornment, jazziness, luxury.  Right now, I would just like to know how to send email.  On the 'obsolete' machine, my fingers inadvertently inserted an incorrect letter. Now I am unable to use the mail feature even after 'migrating' data to the new one  . Maybe one of the geniuses (geni ?) can correct that little detail.

   While I opted not to buy one of the pricier models, this one still came in at about half  of the cost of my first car, albeit that was in 1961.  Before the Sales Associate reached me, I had begun a chat with a young policeman perched in a corner and keeping an eye on activities.  Passing by him as I was leaving, I teased, "I have just bought a computer and need to rob a bank. Can you tell me which one has the least security so  that I can go there ?"  He laughed and said, "Get outta here !"  At least he didn't blow his whistle at me !

    Satchel

"The Sun'll Come up Tomorrow"

             

                                           "The sun'll come up Tomorrow" . . . Annie

                                                     

Was she just plain 'nuts', overly idealistic, maybe even a tad psychotic and greatly out of touch with 'reality'?  In what has become a kind of Seasonal ritual, watching the sunrise over the Atlantic for several mornings, I have decided that  Annie was on to something profound. December 21 was the year's shortest day or , if you prefer, the longest night of the year.  Now we begin the gradual movement towards the Summer's solstice.  In the meantime, the body feels the urge to feast on carbs ...aka, cookies, cakes, and other assorted baked goodies with the 3 plus or so pounds that  we average adding during the holidays.  Then often follow" Naps", the human variation of hibernation.

     Hibernation .  A dictionary calls it : "an adaptive process which is designed to protect individuals from the challenges of  winter time, particularly as it relates to energy  regulation".  Another source labeled the phenomenon as passing the  winter  "in a torpid or resting state",While we humans   do not  hibernate like other mammals, for various reasons our nervous  system transmits signals that cause people to indulge ravenous appetites and gain pounds resulting in lowered energy and sleepiness. As such, it isn't the same state as SAD ...Seasonal Affective Disorder, sometimes called "Winter Blues".

   "The Blues"  Is that term used  any longer other than as a musical genre ?  When someone is experiencing 'the blues', oldtimers might say that they were "down in the dumps".  In the last post, I noted that for many  this year's Christmas is "different" with a kind of  torpor or lethargy prevalent... a kind of emotional hibernation, perhaps.  

   Prolonged cold can kill, not only vegetation but people as well. So, too, can prolonged darkness.  And, for me, that is where Annie and her assertion enter.  Maybe it is akin to the Psalter's observation that while tears may mark the night, joy comes in the morning . . . the potential for a fresh start, kind of signal that there is more than just "right now". These recent mornings have also reminded me that 'not all sunrises are alike'.  When the recent cold blast swept in, clouds hid the multi-hues of brilliant light; then on Christmas Eve, I thought the sun's orb paused briefly on the horizon like a promise of Hope:

Recently I discovered a hymn that expresses that promise, New Every Morning is the Love:  " New Every Morning is the love

                 Our wakening and uprising prove,

                 sleep and darkness safely brought,

                 restored to life and power and thought.

    It now occurs to me that "morning" might just be a metaphor for Hope and not just a time on a clock.

    Good Morning ! to you .

       

            Satchel

   

"I'm not finding much Christmas spirit this year"

           "I'm not finding much Christmas spirit this year" my client said this week.  She suggested that such sentiment was not specific just for her; rather, she sensed a general malaise all around.  And she was one of several clients offering their version of the same sentiment. Now before dismissing these as "the perspectives of therapy clients who likely are already feeling anxious and/or depressed", consider that these are high functioning persons not disposed to a jaundiced view of the world. My subjective opinion says that there are fewer Christmas decorations displayed this year.  

   While everything and everyone is not "Humbug" or "Grinch-y" and "No, no, no !" has not totally displaced "Ho, ho, ho !", something seems, feels different for many this year.  "Naughty" children were once threatened with 'lumps of coal' in their stockings. Accordingly, in some quarters, there is a sense that we are all receiving a scuttle bucket full of coal this year.

    If this is a pervasive viewpoint, "WHY ?" is such the case this year ? A couple of years ago, Sean Dietrich published a collection of articles in a book entitled The Absolute Worst Christmas of All Time. Coming as it did at the conclusion of the first Covid year, the title likely captured the experience of  many.  But now, here we are two Christmases out from that horrendous year. Why now the less- than- enthusiasm that many are experiencing, regardless of formal religious identification or not ?  And, I acknowledge that I have but partial hunches about Causes and for that matter, Cures.

   Among the nominees for causation that I have heard: covid weariness; grief for what and who we have lost; a protracted political nastiness culminating in a recent mid-term election; war in Ukraine; economic uncertainties; diminished sense of safety in the face of mass shootings; loneliness and social isolation. In his novel Littlejohn, Howard Owen has a character lament that "no one should be made to endure Christmas within at least one  year of a personal catastrophe."  No doubt there are other  nominees.

    "Is there a balm in Gilead ?" to paraphrase an old spiritual. A long ago comedian often proclaimed, "Don't tell me your doubts. I have enough doubts of my own. Tell me something you believe in!" Or, you might call it HOPE (differing from 'Wishful Thinking') for something that transcends the immediate malaise. Not just, 'pie in the sky in the sweet bye and bye'. Instead, something that fortifies us to deal with the right now  without  giving way to despair.

   Today I read a post about Phillip Brooks, long ago Rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston and later Bishop of Massachusetts.  His poem that became "O Little Town of Bethlehem" is still a perennial part of Christmas music. The man's faith embodied both contemplation and action. Two lines in that song have offered Hope in the lives of many: "The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee  tonight" referencing the Christ event; and, "O come to us, abide with us,  our Lord Emmanuel".  Many people have seen and experienced ugly &  hateful expressions of religion so much so that they are skeptical at best and downright dismissive at worst of the entire business,  whether Christian or otherwise.

   Something seems to be missing this year.  What do you think it is and what is needed ?

     Satchel

"What is your 'Password'"

 

   I just encountered the 'be-all words' of the digital world ! "Please enter your Password".  Well, the one that I remembered didn't provide the anticipated  entrance.  "To retrieve your password, please enter 'User Name' ". Struck out on that one also.  Found the correct answer for the 'mystery question'..."how many angels can dance on the head of a pin ?" Too many codes to remember and don't dare write and store them somewhere and better not use the same one for  every account !

   It seems that there is a malevolent species lurking for the unwary . . .  'hackers' and 'phishers'.  

It's because of these malevolent types that some sites have now added

another layer of security called 'double authentication'. DOUBLE !! 

There are those among us who find a challenge in remembering the initial key.  And while seeking to open an email just now from a health  care organization, I was greeted with this:  "Logging into your account has been temporarily blocked due to too many failed authentication attempts. For assistance, please contact this number (***-***-****)."

He used the wrong password 

      Friends tell me that their occupations now require 'encryption' of sensitive emails, especially those containing someone's PHI (another new acronym Personal Health Information), financial data, photographs, and other items "for your eyes only".  A former co-worker  related that he had grown so annoyed with one's platform's login procedures that he adopted the password  "PainNderBohunkus!" for transactions.

    A much more congenial "Password" has been a sporadically produced t.v. game show by that name. And, according to Wikipedia, there is a 2022 reiteration of that program.  Once upon a time (and maybe still so) there  was a play at home version.  You remember . . . partner A can give their partner only a one-word clue for THE CORRECT WORD.

Lightning quick word associations can sometimes be embarrassing as they were for a friend's response to the clue "Fondle".

   Almost proved to be as dangerous as being "blocked for too many failed authentication attempts".

  

      Satchel

" IN OTHER (POLYSYLLABIC) WORDS . . . "

 

     Dean Robert Cushman of Duke Divinity School was in "high gear" in his Theology Survey lecture. Barely pausing for breath, he unleashed a stream of multi-syllable words.  A fellow on the front row emitted an unexpected "Huh?" to which the momentarily startled scholar eventually responded, "Young man, do you have a dictionary ?"  A meek "Yes, sir"  answered by a supercilious "Look 'em up !"  Old-timers in this area described such utterances as "Fifty cent words", sometimes followed by the admonition "in other words, speak plainly." 

   Now, "big words" can be fun and can facilitate oral and written expression of thought . . . but not when used as weapons to create distance among persons nor to be ostentatious (whoops, show off). As a way to exercise brain function, I have begun receiving a "Word of the Day" from a dictionary company.  Some I recognize; others have been neologisms (darn, did it again; new  words). Several of the more recent offerings capture much of what is currently transpiring in American political campaigns.  So, as the late Jackie Gleason would have said, "Away we go !"  " In other words" when using a dictionary word, I will attempt my 'everyday' translations.

   We begin with the t.v. and print broadsides ["very harsh or strong spoken or written attack"]. Very few are breviloquent ["  marked by brevity of speech"] and seem more like the  invective ["insulting language"] or gibberish ["unintelligible or meaningless language] of policasters  ["petty, contemptible politicians"].  Several candidates have been cited for their blatherskite ["foolish talk; nonsense"] rendering their veracity juberous ["doubtful"] and creating kerfuffles ["disturbances"]  which tend to tenebrificate ["cause gloom and darkness"].   

    Then  there are the plenteous rapscallions ["worthless, idle persons"] who qualify as purse-leeches ["excessively greedy for money"] and pie-counters ["a political patronage or spoils especially when regarded as venal or corrupt"] as well as being termed an embusque ["person who avoids military service; a draft dodger"] . Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell recently complained of  -aster candidates ["a suffix indicating 'inferior'"]. Doubtless, many aspiring to office hold dispathic opinions of the voters ["marked by a lack of sympathy"]. Worse still are those who barely conceal their epicharikaky ["a joy for the misfortune of others"].

   Despite the current prevalence of chicanery ["the use of trickery to achieve a political purpose"], dare we dream of the repullulation ["budding or sprouting again"] of 'domestic tranquility' and other ideals of the United States Constitution. . . which was written "in plain English".

    Satchel

Scenes of the Season

 

                                                                Planted in 1963

    "Now October has come again which in our land is different from October in other lands. . . . The ripe, the golden month has come again . . ."  (Thomas Wolfe)

  Every Season has its predominant colors. . . the pastels of Springtime's blossoms, Summer's plush verdancy or brown (depending on rainfall) and even Winter's' whiteness and trees' dark bare limbs pointing skyward.  Still,  Autumn, especially October, tugs at my soul like no other time of the year.

  Devotees claim that the beach in the Autumn is akin to paradise. When I feel the pull to restore perspective and tranquility, the mountains beckon.  There is a kind of fullness or completion in observing the seasonal cycle's move to maturity.  If Winter is a kind of metaphor for death and endings, the transition to Autumn offers a time for reflection. Wolfe: "The ripe, the golden month".

                                  From our balcony a couple of years back

                                

Pumpkin pie, Pumpkin cheesecake, Pumpkin Latte

PUMPKIN EVERYTHING

                                                                                           

           Wolfe: "October is the richest of the seasons: the fields are cut, the granaries are full. ..."

                      On the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina several Autumns Ago

     Last October , we spent a week at a lodging atop Sugar Mountain near Banner Elk, North Carolina.  It was chilly but nothing like the scene photographed this morning (October 19, 2022):

And, in nearby Elk Park, this photo captured the transitions of the seasons:

  Such scenes cause me to paraphrase a poetry line of the late Shel Silverstein: "Must we always have Winter; Can't [Autumn] just stay ?"

       Satchel

NO MATTER WHAT YOU CALL IT . . .

               Cartoon Bill Mauldin's World War II Up Front

      I can no longer drink the hard stuff. . .  regular or any other type coffee that has a caffeine kick.  Cardiologist said it is not good  for my health. But during Graduate School days (or more accurately, nights) strong coffee became a constant companion. An unnamed acquaintance had elevated blood pressure and his physician asked how many daily cups he drank.  "Six or eight.  That's too many, right ?"  For you, yes.  I don't know his consumption now but I hope that he drinks less.

  If it is for the  'taste' , I fare o.k. on the decaf types, sometimes called 'unleaded' rather than the 'leaded' or  caffeinated kinds. Hardly a purist or connoisseur of the many choices offered,  I apply the simple test:  "Do I like the taste?"  

   My former neighbor, Dick Rountree, has always been noted for his kindness and candor.  When I was imbibing a brand of 'Instant Coffee', I offered him a  cup. With one sip, he judged that "that is the worst cup of coffee that I have ever had!"

    Many names have been ascribed to the  beverage: Java, Mud, Elixir of Life, Cuppa,  Joe, ad infinitum. Among my favorite terms is Cuppa Joe.  Whether historically accurate or not, the term allegedly originate in 1914 when Josephus Daniel, a teetotaler, became Secretary of the Navy and prohibited any beverage stronger that  black coffee to be served on US vessels.

  Bob Bryant and I solved many 'world problems' drinking 5 cent coffee in the Student Commons when we were in Seminary at Duke. FIVE CENTS!!  Today a  small cup will equal the price of a nourishing meal in those long ago times.

  Baristas seem to be everywhere mixing their concoctions to a wide array of fees in excess of 5 cents.   Just a cursory scanning of 'coffee' entries on the internet led to a surfeit of information.  For example, I learned that one is not a "coffee addict" but rather a  "javaphile". And there  is a  website Fluentincoffee.com.  

  As the lowest ranking soldier at the 3d Army Flight Detachment in Atlanta in the early 1960's, it became my duty to make the large pot of morning coffee at the hanger.  'Awful' would be an accurate description and I was never considered a barista.

  We have found a few nearby shops that suit our tastes.  (The  following are not 'paid' nor requested advertisements.)  In nearby Sanford, NC, there is Kathy's Java Shop, an unpretentious gathering spot that  features a  wide array of concoctions.  A favorite is "Seduction", served either hot or cold.  The following is from the gallery of 'wall art':

               

                                                                                                                  

    

Nearer home, The Chatham Rabbit has been 

delighting customers with their array of brews for four years.  As this shot taken from the Facebook page shows, the CR has become an integral part of the local Arts Community.

                                                                                            

    According to my wife's finely honed taste buds, Jay at Cafe Root Cellar in nearby Pittsboro makes a world class Chai Latte.

    The single K-cup machine perhaps is not as ubiquitous as in times past. Today after my haircut, I noticed this set-up in the shop:

   

        Apparently there are lots of us like the soldier in the cartoon above.  Drink Up !

    Satchel

  

              

"What was it all for . . .?"

    He enlisted in the US Navy at age 19  - - - soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.  Given his aptitude and intelligence, he gravitated  towards aviation and Officers' School.  Fortified with a strong sense of patriotism and courage, he was soon flying dangerous missions in the Southeast Asian theater of operations.  Lots of missions, dangerous missions.  Unlike many of his fellow servicemen, he survived and eventually returned home, proud that he had been a part of the victory ending Fascism.  

      Patriotism continued to run strong for a time post-war. Throughout the years of war, Americans had generally displayed support of the sacrifices and     dislocations brought on by the magnitude of  the conflict.  The advent of the "Cold War" contributed to the sometime souring of  'patriotism' into 'nationalism'.  The latter  has been described as a kind of glorification and unity of the culture, with emphasis on language and heritage . Those who do not accept that often skewered nostalgic viewpoint find themselves subjected to virulent and vile accusations of treason and such. An extreme example of this sentiment is found in the Holocaust. Patriotism on the other hand is based on an inclusivity of 'we are all in this together' emphasizing values and beliefs.

   Even a cursory survey of  American history since 1945 provides numerous instances of disenchantment and fissures within  this country's fabric. 'Lip service' to ideals of democracy, the dignity and worth of  people, justice, kindness and the like have been frequently replaced  with a cynicism and despair.

   Which brings the focus back to the idealistic young  patriot above: He opted to remain on  active duty with the Navy, ultimately reaching the rank of Admiral. Now still a lucid 99 year old, he has surveyed the current state of  American society and politics with their divisiveness, rancor,  violence, ad nauseam and sadly asked a friend, "What was it all for ?"

    His is a poignant query. No synthetic patriotism, please. The 'real thing'. As Samuel Johnson said in 1775, "Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel." He spoke out not against love of country, etc. but a deliberate distortion of facts.

 And the American social critic, H.L. Mencken described the perversity that often postures as patriotism: "It's chief glories are the demagogue, the military bully, and the spreaders of libels and false history. Its philosophy rests firmly on the doctrine that the end justifies the means -- that any blow whether above or below the belt, is fair against dissenters from its  wholesale denial of plain facts."

   Abraham Lincoln urged his audience to resolve that the dead at Gettysburg  "shall not have died in vain--that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom --and that government of the people, by the people, for the people , shall not perish from the earth."

   That is 'what it was all for'.  Will it live ?

          Satchel

 

"I will be 96 on my next birthday !"

   Not I.  There are still a  few more candles before I reach that lofty plateau.  Aunt Rachel turned 95 yesterday. But, today should you ask her age, she likely would proudly say, "I'll be 96 on my next birthday." For many reasons, Rachel has been and continues to be an inspiration. Over the past few years I have written often of this remarkable lady who is a treasure to all her family. (To see just a hint of why we love her, check some of the earlier tributes [1] )  Being just ten years older than  I, she  along with my cousin, Clarice, is the only person to have known me all my life.

    Her daughter, Pat, wrote: "Well, today mom is officially 95. The celebration has continued all week   & isn't over. The other day she told that as  fast as time was flying she'd be 100  before we knew it. She tells us this so we are sue to have time to plan the next big party. Tomorrow (17th) when asked her age, she will say that she'll be 96 in her next birthday. She's in Webster's under eternal optimist." 

  

     Among her other gifts, she is a great story teller and repository of family lore.  She and all her siblings bore a strong  facial appearance, notably high cheek bones.  Her brother, Lewis, worked in the Engineering Department of UNC Hospitals in Chapel Hill. Once when Rachel was visiting a patient there, one of Lewis's co-workers whom she did not know got on an elevator with her, took one look and said, "Another damned Cooper !"  Lewis's daughter, Sharon,  went with her to her daily gathering of the 'Dallas Dolls' restaurant this week and the family similarity was  readily noticed.

                   A few pictorial tributes to this 'family treasure' :

                    With her son in green shirt and my brothers and me

                 With Clarice and her sister, Doni, in background
                 

                 With three of her great-nieces and  one great-great-niece

Cooking has long been one of her many talents. Here she gets to enjoy her supreme Chicken and Dumplings and a family get-together she hosted.

The oldest and the youngest . . . with her great-grand-child who is a few weeks old.

     Rachel,  I want to be like you when I grow up.

         Satchel

[1]  "And then there was one"   August 8, 2013

       "My Grand-father's clock"  April 9, 2016

       "Family Treasure"               September 17, 2016

      "Chicken and Dumplings"   November 30, 2019

BUMPER STICKER WIT and WISDOM

                                           ONE OF THE BETTER ONES

"I might be slow

    but I 'm ahead of you !"

         "I brake for _________"

               "I love (heart) ________"

                  "Honk if you _________"

EXPRESS YOURSELF : POST A BUMPER STICKER

  One dictionary calls them "a label carrying a slogan or advertisement fixed to a vehicle's bumper."   The first ones attracted tourists to scenic sights, hence the ubiquitous  "SEE  ROCK CITY".  Then came the advertisements, e.g. "CHEW BROWN MULE".  Sometime in the 1950's, politicians got into the act with the likes of "I LIKE IKE" or "STEVENSON-SPARKMAN/ 

VOTE DEMOCRAT".  And off it went, seemingly restrained only by one's passions and imagination. Apparently, even 'vulgar' bumper stickers claim First Amendment protection. 

   Among those that have a "story" attached include :

   .A client once came into my office  hardly able to restrain her laughter. She had just seen a bumper sticker in the parking lot that she wanted: "MY MOTHER IS TOUR GUIDE ON GUILT TRIPS". 

  

 I  wondered about the driver whose bumper claimed "MY OTHER CAR IS A BROOM"

   This one reminded me of the day I was waiting at a red-light in Asheville and heard screeching tires and looked up to see a student driver's impending crash into my car's front end: "BE PATIENT; STUDENT DRIVER".

    My kids know that there is no stash that would cause me to display: "I'M SPENDING MY CHILDREN'S INHERITANCE".

  Having encountered instances of delusion among clientele, this might be an appropriate reality check:     "DON'T  BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU THINK".

  A while back, a client sent this

   So many outlandish traits and behaviors are attributed to religion that  several cars display: "JESUS WOULD SLAP  THE  'STUFFINGS' OUT OF YOU".

   Occasionally, vehicles become rolling collages of 'messages'.   Dealers usually concur that  bumper stickers reduce a car's trade-in value.  But, ' what a ride' in the meantime !

  You can find lots of websites that promise to provide labels  of your own design. What kind of 'saying' is on your bumper ?

       Satchel

"Call from Name Unavailable"

 

  It seems to occur most often at meal times or early in the morning before the first coffee.  "Robocalls" or the old name, telemarketers.  With fewer people having land lines, such calls have proliferated.  Scant reliance can be placed on the veracity of the name or source that is announced when the telephone rings. A call reportedly originating from "Duke Hospital" was someone peddling aluminum siding for the house.  Very seldom do we pick up unless the caller is verified.  If just one call gets a response, the traffic increases. But  a sure bet to be ignored are those from NAME  NOT  PROVIDED. 

   When we do pick up and the caller is a ghost of the purported originator, the range of 'services' offered seems unlimited. Did you see the recent meme making the rounds .  .   . "On March 10, 1876, Alexander Graham Bell makes the first phone call ever and moments later he was notified  that his car's extended warranty had expired." Frequently, we get messages on our answering machine that we have over drafted on a credit card (which we do not in fact own). Apparently, many folks are concerned that we are not receiving adequate Medicare benefits and if we give them our Social Security number, they will update our coverage.  My wife who is quicker with a quip than I used her talent with a well timed response to a caller warning that our Windows computer needed repair: "Our windows are fine. Do you work on doors?"  (Haven't had a Windows computer in years.)

     Then, would you  be heartless and ignore a call from a 'grand-son' in distress?  An acquaintance was bilked of several hundred dollars when he responded to an "I'm in jail and need bail money" call.  At least he has a grand-son old enough to face that circumstance. Not I, and when I got a "Hi, grand-dad" call from my "grand-son", the call abruptly ended when he couldn't answer "which grand-son?". Again, my wife's talent shone: "Hello, Grand-ma". Immediately, she replied, "Well, hello, dear. What do you need? Are you in jail or the hospital? Do you need me to send you a specified amount of gift cards? Is your girlfriend pregnant?" CLICK !!! 

    These callers seem to lack a sense of humor. The comedian, Carl Hurley, offered a humorous array of responses to these intruders. (Can probably find on YouTube.)  Once upon a time, I decided to have a bit of fun with telemarketers. Like the solicitation for a donation to a 'Benevolent Fund' for law officers. "I can't donate" was my somber reply. "Why not?" My reply, "I'm a convicted felon" was followed by a long silence. "You're kidding?" he finally sputtered. "Yes; but I still will not contribute. Good-bye." Another 'robot' finished his spiel and I affected a child-like voice: "I'm so glad you called.  There is a car parked outside with blue lights going blink, blink, blink and someone in a blue uniform is ringing my door bell. Should I be worried?" LOONNGGG silence. "Well, I don't know, sir."  I: "You're just of no help at all !! Bye."

   Beware of the 'Robots' but if one sneaks through, have a little fun.

                    Satchel