A NATION OF WHINERS...OH YES!
Former Senator Phil Gramm who was an advisor to John McCain had to step down from that position after he made a statement that ended up by calling Americans a "Nation of whiners". One cannot tell the truth in today's politically correct scene so Gramm had to go from the McCain camp.
In an interesting essay from RealClearPolitcs, the writer takes on that question: are we a nation of whiners? Perhaps, he says. I say, definitely.... we are. We have gotten spoiled rotten---rotten to the core and "even the core is rotten" (to quote Phyllis Diller).
The essay contrasts the generation that went through WW 2 with today's generation who thinks they are suffering economic deprivation and some, the loss of thier spendy homes which they bought, or had built, on shaky borrowed money. And then there is the $3.75 a gallon gas (or thereabouts). Since Europeans are paying twice what we are for their gas for their cars, there goes that argument about "deprivation". We are paying high gas prices because the stupid politicians and leaders have been asleep at the wheel for at least 3 decades or more regarding our growing dependence on foreign oil and not just any foreign oil----foreign oil from the most volatile area of the world----the Middle East plus Cesar Chavez's nation, plus other shaky nations that are not exactly what we could call our fast and loyal friends. Couple that with the people who will not give up their oversized pickups and SUVs and who still barrel down a 65 mph highway at 80 mph or faster if they feel like it. Spoiled Brats!!!!
The WW 2 generation, shown clearly in the excellent Ken Burns special of last fall (The War) were content to live in smaller homes; the children of that generation thought nothing of sharing a bedroom with several other siblings....often 2-3 to a bed depending on the size of the children; they had either one car or no car and were truly deprived of driving by gas rationing that came with the War; they knew how to make real sacrifices....like doing without meat for several meals each week, only getting occasional new shoes(maybe once a year and only one pair) and being limited on several grocery items (sugar for one) due to the national war effort. Still they were cheerful and mostly uncomplaining, contrasted to today's many Whiners.
I encountered a few Whiners this very morning at the Detroit Lakes Community Center. The CC uses the opportunity to make a few extra bucks and also provide a "service" during WE Fest by opening up their shower room facilities to We Fest campers at 5 bucks a shower. This would not be so bad if the shower-users weren't so much a part of the generation that REALLY knows how to Whine!! We regulars-----those who are 365 -day a year members of the CC----found out who is important and who is not today. The shower takers acted like an infestation of fleas on a dog's back----they were totally annoying by complaining and whining about the lack of mirrors in the dressing rooms (along with leaving huge messes, clothing and towels scattered everywhere) They filled up another bathroom in order to admire their images in the big mirror there and excluded any regular members from using the bathrooms they are accustomed to having available. They lined the hallways, with their hair dryers plugged into every available electric outlet. Not one of them even considered for a minute that the sun was shining and the air was hot outside----a good way to save a bit of electricity for hair-drying. We Oldtimers were forced to step over them, walk around them, and endure their endless whining about the bad service, to boot. Someone asked them why they did not use the showers and bathrooms at the campgrounds. "They're so icky" was a reply. Tough times kiddos! One of us had it on good authority (a relative who works at the campgrounds) that those showers are cleaned thoroughly each day and are definitely not "icky" but if you are a spoiled priviledged brat used to having only luxurious accomodations, they would seem "Icky" , I suppose. When one goes camping, you just put up with a few "icky" things, supposedly. But not this generation....they expect to have things the way they want them even if they have spent a wad of Daddy's money to come to We Fest and drink themselves silly or do drugs til they pass out (or die).
The folks who are whining about mortgage foreclosures on their homes recently seem to ignore the fact that they let themselves fall into a Middle Class mess created by themselves: they started acting like people who are a lot richer than they actually are. They have built extravagant lifestyles (and huge homes) on borrowed money. And they also ignored the plain fact that the emergence of China and India as more developed nations is taking a huge toll on the world's oil supply, already in big trouble because of so many nation's dependence on it. ( But paying attention to dull news conflicts with watching the many reality TV shows or the dancing with the Idiots (I mean Stars) shows.)
The essayist says this: "Now is the time to recognize reality and adjust to it in adult fashion. Though I consider myself an environmentalist, I did put off taking certain steps to cut fuel consumption in my house. It took natural gas prices shooting through the roof to move me to replace my leaky old windows. Believe me, paying for new double panes was low on my Fun List. Did I whine about the cost? More than I care to admit."
One major problem exists: this present generation of Whiners is far more interested in their "Fun Lists" than anything else in their lives..including some harsh realities. Until this younger generation of Americans began to face the realities of their lives and confront them in a more adult manner, there will be a large faction in this nation that qualify as Whiners. And they are not fun to be around, let me tell you!!!!
Posted by: gsyvrud@aol.com on 8/7/2008 at 1:05 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
I WISH I COULD GO BACK...................
Sometimes I am sure all of us wish we could hop in a magical time machine...the kind that SciFi authors invent in novels----and go back to times that were so worth remembering. I would love to go back to several places, things, and times. And here they are:
I wish I could go back to my Grandma Ida's farm and walk down the cowpath I used to follow into the pasture woods where the cows were waiting to be called home for milking in an outdoor milking yard (in the summer) I would also take a detour up the the gentle hill upon which stood the best climbing tree I have ever seen....low branches, big leafy spread out tree body....a place where two girls could climb and sit and look out over the small lake that fed the creek that flowed over to neighbor Victor's pasture on the other side of the small dirt road.
I wish my Uncle Wally and my Aunt Clarie would be there to go with me to the cow pasture just as we did in those days long gone.
I wish I could go back to Camp Trowbridge and find Cabin 3 just as it was in the summer of 1948; I would find my cot and sit down on it and contemplate the smallness of the cabin that seemed so big back then.
I wish I could go back to Hanson's Grocrery Store and see Orville, Ed, Julia and the others who waited on us in that small "Mom and Pop" store of yesterday. I would buy an ice cream cone with a colored cone---pink, yellow, or green. If I were lucky, Connie would be scooping ice cream that day and I would get a HUGE cone for just a nickel.
I wish I could go back go back in my time machine to that little hospital in Pullman, Washington and see, just for an hour or two, my two babies who were born on the campus of the State University, and hold their tiny bodies close to mine while I kissed thier fuzzy baby heads. Then I would hop in the time machine and go back to old St Lukes hospital and see my youngest, the baby of the family and hold him close to me again, also.
I wish I could go back and walk down the aisle of our old white wooden church, holding my Daddy's arm as I walked slowly in my white satin gown my Mom had sewed, wearing my friend Patsy's veil, as I met my future husband at the front of the church.
I wish I could sit once more in my desk in Miss Mickelsons' first grade room in the building that has been long since torn down.
I wish I could go back and sit down in the kitchen "at home" with my Mom and Dad; I would sit on the high stool while they sat in the steel chairs by our old table and we would all have a cup of strong coffee and one of Mother's good molasses cookies together.
I wish I could go back and buy a "Forever Yours" candy bar at the old Bakery candy counter. Mmmmm, that combination of dark chocolate, peanuts and white nougat has not been seen for so many years.
I wish I could go back to the Ben-Lee cafe and order a hamburger with pickles and onions and a thick chocolate malt. It would cost me a total of 50 cents for both of them.
I wish I could go back to old Detroit Lakes and go to Clem's Big Dock and go with my Dad on a speedboat ride that cost 5 dollars apiece....maybe this time we would have a little bit more money than we did then; it was such an extravagance.
I wish I could go back to the Methodist Church basement on the day of the Annual Garden Club "Iris" show. The scent of all those irises plus other spring flowers is better than any perfume on the market. And the "egg coffee" being cooked in the old kitchen for "lunch" after the Judge had finished giving out the prizes had the sweetest aroma all its own.
I wish I could go back to Andy's Drive In and taste one of the best soft ice cream (vanilla)cones ever created.
I wish I could go back and climb on the old Navy fighter plane that used to sit behind our Community Building after World War 2.....it was a dark blue plane and it said "U.S. Navy" on its side and it had big white stars on its wings.
I wish I could go back to the basement classrooms at my college's English deparment and listen to the two Nelsons (professors) teaching about Shakespeare and English Poetry.
I wish I could go back and spend just one afternoon playing with my friends...Byron, Harlan, Jerry, Denny, Gary, Judy, Gerri, and Bobby---in the churchyard that was our neighborhood playground.
I wish I could go back to the Christmas Eve I got my last doll for Christmas.
I would be interested to hear what some of you would "like to go back to".
Posted by: gsyvrud@aol.com on 8/5/2008 at 1:55 PM | Comments (2) | Permalink
THE UNSOLVED MYSTERY OF THE MISSING STRAWBERRIES
Today has been a great day....at least until a bowl of strawberries went missing at a Bridal Shower a group of us gave for a lovely bride- to- be this morning and afternoon. We did not miss the strawberries til the shower was basically over and we were picking up our things in preparation for going home.
It was a lovely day for a party. It was all women of course, bridal showers usually are. The guests were a marvelous mix of friends from many places...the bride was born in Cuba; her friends who will be her attendants are from Uruguay and Mexico....some friends are from the rural township where the Groom grew up...one lady who is a friend of the Groom's father and mother was born in the Netherlands...another was born on the Island of Bali...just a few miles from the Groom's father's Java birthplace. We were a nice mix of homegrown Minnesotans, North Dakotans and the International travelers and transplanted Red River Valley dwellers. The hostesses, besides me, were the mothers of our old "Play Group" which we formed in the early 1970's to socialize our little toddlers who were either the only one in their family or who had older siblings who were off at school leaving these tiny tots in farm homes without any near-neighbors their own age. So we mothers took turns having 5 little ones come to our homes once a week. There were 2 girls and 3 boys----among them the Groom and his sidekicks...one of whom will be an attendant at his wedding and another one (my son) who will be in attendance at the wedding also. Firm friendships were formed among the 4 and 5 year old kids who are still good friends to this day. Well, maybe not Lonna Lee, who was an assertive girl for that era and accomplished the amazing feat of locking out (and excluding) David at one birthday party we had, by tying the door to her room shut.... with a shoelace. Poor David sat down and cried softly to himself while the raucous mothers were downstairs toasting each other with glasses of wine (it was one of OUR birthdays) . Other than a few little tiffs, things went smoothly and one of the girls announced to her mother that she was going to marry two of the boys since she liked both of them too much to choose just one. A bit of Polyandry in little Eglon Township.
Anyway... today was a reunion of our playgroup moms and we have aged considerably since those days in the 1970's. We are all getting slightly forgetful at times of stress or excitement, such as today was, with our hostessing the shower for Freddy's bride. Somehow, at the end of the afternoon, the bowl of strawberries that Phyllis had brought for her lovely decorative dessert cookies disappeared in Audrey's house and none of us could find them. We had a lovely lunch----5 kinds of salads---5 kinds of bread, including caramel rolls from Jackie....5 desserts including a chocolate torte, kuchen, the disgustingly fat and lucious carmel and chocolate oatmeal goodies everyone loves and of course, the strawberry - topped cookies.
The missing strawberries are still missing as of 4:29 p.m. We all told Audrey to call us if she found them. Who knows where they are? This is so like a bunch of older women--- as we are....one of us may have stuck them in some odd spot in Audrey's kitchen. I swear I never saw them except on top of Phyllis's cookies..Audrey says she knew she held the bowl in her hand. They might find them in Audrey's oven or the laundry room or the garage whre we stashed a few things earlier. Who knows?
The difficult part is that Audrey and Marvin are leaving for Duluth early tomorrow morning for a family reunion with one of their children. If the missing bowl of berries is not discovered, they could come home to a very pungent aroma of rotting strawberries . At least if that happens, they can track them down by sniffing them out.....which reminds me of the story of a jilted wife who was left --- for a much younger woman, by her dirty- rat- husband. When he told his wife that she had to move out of her long- time home and turn it over to him and his youthful Sweetie...she took revenge by eating a meal of buttery, garlic-shrimp and leaving the shrimp tails and leftovers tucked away inside the curtain rods of the home. It is a great story but there is no time for the full narrative right now!!!!
I am waiting for a call from Audrey or Phyllis to find out of the mystery has been solved. So far, no calls....where, oh, where could they be????
Posted by: gsyvrud@aol.com on 8/2/2008 at 4:29 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
GARDENS: GOOD AND BAD (BUT NEVER UGLY)
Our computer Guru will not arrive til after Monday but I miss blogging so much that I am going to soldier through this irritating pop-up that appears every few seconds. It is as bad as Lady Catterly yowling through the night on Wednesday and absolutely destroying a good nights' sleep.(Why didn't you throw her in the garage? you ask? Probably because I feel so sorry for my three-legged cat who has suffered and probably also because I was just too tired to get up and do it)
Anyway,speaking of irritating....I am totally irritated with two hydrangea bushes (already 3 years old) who are refusing to bloom the way I want them to.....both are Annabelle's and both look healthy. Each has a few blooms but my friend's Annabelle is blooming prodigiously and did so last year also, and we bought them the same year! This looks like a hydrangea conspiracy against ME....I can almost see them talking to each other on the east wall of the garage....snickering over my frustration and my attention to them to get them to bloom. Last year I moved one of them from the SW corner of a garden bed upon the advice of the Nursery where I bought one of them----too much sun, said Joe the Bush Guru at the Nursery. I followed all the rules for planting---gave them the soil they prefer, watered them faithfully, nourished them with regular fertilizer. I get the feeling that if I had carelessly stuck them in a hole in the middle of the lawn they would now be blooming furiously. They are definitely the "BAD" in this year's gardening experience.
Everything else I either stuck in as started plants or seeded ( a lot of big zinnias and a lot of wildflowers and seeds sent me from Far Side of Fifty---- plus other perennials that have been there a long time, are definitely the GOOD...it is so lovely now to lean over my deck and see the profusion of yellow and orange lilies, scads of blooming wildflowers including a wildflower that looks like a small hollyhock and has hollyhock-shaped rose- colored blooms. There are wildflowers in pink and white and lavendar that are as delicate as Baby's Breath... and the Coneflowers, brilliant golden Coreopsis and the Japanese Lanterns are eagerly showing off everywhere they are planted.
The best of the GOOD is "My Old Geranium" who has been part of my garden, both winter and summer for at least ten years. I put her out again this spring in a place of honor in the flower garden and "She" is so cooperative and so nice that once again she is covered with blazing red blooms. Her littler "daughter" is also blooming nicely in another spot.
I got a poem from from my friend Fran ...a poem which she read aloud at a recent book club gathering and I just had to have it. So now I have to share it with you; it is by Theodore Roethke, and if "Teddy" is revealing himself in this poem, he has lived a far more dissolute life than this Old Buffalogal....but the poem is so charming. I will type it as prose with / marks at the end of a poetic line:
"THE GERANIUM" by Theodore Roethke: "When I put her out. once by the garbage pail,/ She looked so limp and bedraggled,/ so foolish and trusting like a sick poodle,/Or a wizened aster in late September/ I brought her back in again/ For a new routine---/Vitamins, water and whatever/Sustenance seemed sensible/At the time; she'd lived/So long on gin, bobby pins, half-smoked cigars, dead beer; /Her shriveled petals falling /On the faded carpet, the stale/Steak grease stuck to her fuzzy leaves/ (Dried out, she creaked like a tulip.) The things she endured!---The dumb dames shrieking half the night/Or the two of us, alone, both seedy,/My breathing booze at her,/She leaning out of her pot toward the window./ Near the end she almost seemed to hear me---/And that was scary----/ So when the sniffing cretin of a maid/Threw her pot and all, into the trash can,/ I said nothing./ But I sacked the presumptuous hag the next week,/ I was that lonely.
I think I would be lonely without My Old Geranium, also, and for that very reason I will bring her back into the house in the Fall----she and her little daugher----to live under the Gro-Light once again--- and be nourished with saved rainwater and Miracle-Gro so they can both spend another summer in the garden together.
Posted by: gsyvrud@aol.com on 8/1/2008 at 9:12 AM | Comments (3) | Permalink
TAKING A BREAK
We have to get some computer troubles resolved. Until they are, I am taking a break from Areavoices.com.....not too long I hope.
Posted by: gsyvrud@aol.com on 7/30/2008 at 9:57 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink