let's do it

Yesterday's New York Times had an op.-ed. column titled "The Gospel Of Wealth." It discussed the recommendation of a minister from a "mega-church" who has written a book:

"Platt calls on readers to cap their lifestyle. Live as if you made $50,000 a year, he suggests, and give everything else away."
------------------------
OK, so it's like --
Live within the first fifty-thousand a year that I make.
Keep my "lifestyle" within that first fifty-thousand dollars.
Per year.








I'll get right on that.

-30-

songwriter?

And -- flicked around Google, trying to find out who WROTE the song
"I'm Gonna Hire a Wino to Decorate our Home"
and couldn't get an answer.
Who's the songwriter?

-30-

interior decorating with an edge

As long as I'm "feeling" the topic of Country music,
a song that's in the same "family" with the
flat-out-on-the-table,
practical, literal
songwriting styles of
Loretta Lynn
and
Chuck Berry
is one that was a hit in the early 80s
called "I'm Gonna Hire A Wino to Decorate Our Home."

That one's a little different, though, because it has the twist of nuance -- the whole song is sort of sarcasm which has grown out of frustration:
"I'm gonna hire a wino,
to decorate our home.
So you'll feel more at ease here,
and you won't need to roam.
We'll take out the dining-room table,
put a bar along that wall --
and a neon sign will point the way
to our bathroom down the hall."

That's songwriting you can't beat with a stick.
David Frizzell had a big hit with that. His delivery was so perfect -- if you sang those lyrics too "hard," too forcefully it'd come across almost, like, too angry, because the whole song is that sarcasm thing. So he sang it soft and gentle -- with a wistful and kind of guilty tone, like he was wishing he was the kind of man who didn't give his wife a reason to have these sentiments -- like he sees her point.

"I came crawlin' home late last night,
like many nights before.
She (something - something)
when she opened up the door.
She said, "You're not gonna
do this anymore."
She said -- "I'm gonna hire a wino,
to decorate our home..."
etc.

I first heard that song on an AOR (album-oriented rock) station in Boston, believe it or not. It's pure country, doesn't fit the "AOR" format, but the morning D.J. on WBCN thought the song was so hilarious and pertinent, and he loved the title -- he'd say it a couple of times, while introducing the song, sort of for the pleasure of saying, "I'm gonng hire a wino to decorate our home" -- I think he featured it every morning for a month!

...that's when I first started appreciating country music, I think.

-30-

Love on your mind

Watched some scenes from "Coal Miner's Daughter":
now, cannot get the song "Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' with Lovin' on your Mind"
out of my head.

Loretta Lynn had her own thing going on, as a songwriter.
She tells it like it is.
Calls 'em as she sees 'em.

"You Ain't Woman Enough to Take my Man"
and --
"Fist City" -- what a concept.
It's apparently a variation on the old expression, How would you like a "knuckle sandwich"?
(Of course, if one goes to "Fist City" for dinner, surely a "knuckle sandwich" would be the thing to order...)

Her songs were straight-ahead, practical, literal snapshots of real life in a certain culture, and feelings and thoughts on how things could possibly be a little better.
------------------Made me think about --
Chuck Berry.
He was quoted about his songwriting -- he said, (something like) -- "Most of the people have cars, so I wrote about cars. Most people have been to school; I wrote about school. And most people have been, or soon will be, in love -- so I wrote about love."

-30-

no puppy left behind

Remember Pres. Bush's education initiative, "No Child Left Behind"? I was reminded of that recently, only it was "no puppy left behind"...

Last Friday at work someone brought her son, who brought his new puppy. In the ten minutes or so that they spent here, I noticed how the boy took care of his dog. (Think he's 4th, 5th, or 6th grade, not sure -- he's tall -- the boy, that is, not the dog...)

He held the puppy very carefully, with both hands, close to his body (no dog-dangling). Outside, the dog got set down on the pavement, and that child never took his attention away from it. He ran -- slowly, more like, trotted, or jogged, from end of sidewalk, up to the building, looking over his shoulder to see that the puppy was following. Arriving at the door, the little dog caught up, and then the kid repeated the routine, back out to the end of the sidewalk where his mom was waiting. The boy ran carefully, looking back over his shoulder, looking after the puppy as it zoomed full-speed on its short little legs.

Some children that age can't apply that kind of sustained attention, and caring, to something -- I was charmed, and impressed.
-------------------------------------------
Later on that evening, I missed the opportunity to get something right, at work -- could have been a small success -- but no, I was not thinking "outside the box." Somebody asked me to find the paychecks for their department -- in the office next to mine, paychecks are always in the bottom drawer of a particular file cabinet: for a while last year, I think, the Paycheck Location was changed, to the bottom drawer of a desk.

In the three years I've worked here, I've only ever found paychecks in those two places -- bottom drawer, desk; bottom drawer, file cabinet.
Couldn't find the checks for that dept., Fri., so radioed the guy -- he came up and got the checks off the top of a desk six feet away from where I was looking.
(Ergh!)

Asked myself later, "Why didn't I just look all over the office, and at least check tops of the other two desks?"
Thinking about it, realized I've sort of programmed myself to try not to be "snoopy," or "nosy" -- those funny old-fashioned terms.

I think you hardly hear those words anymore because the whole world is unbelievably "Snoopy" and "Nosy" -- it's like there's no privacy. (Cameras everywhere...) I somehow don't want to be a person who snoops, peeks, listens in, or gossips. (Those all seem to have a bad connotation, to me....) And sometimes you have to work at that, because most of us are naturally curious, about one another.

Going into that office next door, I feel right to look for paychecks in the usual place, their official location where I've been shown and told that I may look there. But I held back on thinking creatively and looking around other places, in the office, because of a resistance to looking at people's stuff -- being in their space. I don't know.

(Next time I get asked to look in there for a department's paychecks, I may "toss" the place! -- not really....)

-30-

tiptoe out

Gratified, and grateful.

Feeling of accomplishment, or just -- something Good.
Feels great!

At work, they had a safety meeting that I suggested, to cut down on speeding in the parking lot, and can SEE the results! People are driving more slowly and responsibly in the tightly packed parking lot. I know, because I watch them! I stand outside, and can see the results.

Plus I think if managers / leaders in a company can communicate to employees that they shouldn't drive like maniacs in a parking lot, it has EXTRA benefits.
Besides lack of dead bodies in parking lot, you also have improved morale (I believe) because people who work at your company realize "Ding! My bosses care if I live or die. My foreman / supervisor/ etc. want me and my family to be OK."

You know, saying to employees, "We Don't want you to wind up dead in the parking lot" is one way of saying you care.
I think messages like that -- when people express caring, and encouragement -- have cumulative benefits. Like earning high interest on stocks you purchased.

I think.

AND -- the co-worker who received the letter back from Pres. Obama, after I encouraged her to send her good idea to our congressional delegation: couple nights ago, this person who -- isn't registered to vote (like so MANY people, as I've discovered to my dismay) and doesn't basically "believe in" politicians, couple nights ago, she --
sat down
and watched the president
give his speech about
getting out of Iraq.

When I run into difficult, or disappointing times in life I've learned to work hard to be happy and not let bad stuff get me down, or create a sad or bad attitude.
But this week, I felt happy, and pleased, and psyched, because of Real Things outside of myself instead of having to WORK to Create it inside of my mind.

You can't always get that, so that's why have to create the Inside Happiness (I think), but when you DO get it, it's very Encouraging.

Now I feel like I should "tiptoe out of the room," figuratively speaking, while [in a whisper] Some Things Are Good.

-30-

first live band

The first time I ever saw a "live band" perform was an adventurous day that I will never forget.

Had not thought about it in a long time -- lately have been listening to so much music, at home & other, maybe that's why the memory came back.

Where my family lived in Ohio, when I was in fifth or sixth grade, a new family started coming to church -- a husband & wife (we'll call them Mr. & Mrs. CX), and their daughter. They were new members, and looking back and trying to figure it out, I'm thinking they probably started attending church because my father invited them.

I was taken along a couple of times when my dad "called on" them -- ministers used to do that, don't think they probably do anymore; people are too busy & don't want company, a lot of times -- plus, I think today's Protestant pastors (and others too maybe) do not want to come across as "crusading," or as "knockin'-on-your-door-Jehovah-Witness-types" (no disrespect, but you know...that's the way people are -- they're picky about how they're perceived)....

[Thinking about ministers "calling on" parishioners (sp?) makes me think, God, if someone who is 19 or something was reading my blog they would probably think I'm from the Stone Age.

I may be from the Rolling Stone age, but not the Stone Age.]

Mr. & Mrs. CX were just a little different from most people I knew (and I didn't know many -- so maybe they weren't so different). Don't even know if I can specify, or express it.
I didn't think this at the time, but looking back I'm imagining that Mr. & Mrs. CX were -- possibly folks whom previous ministers and Ladies' Auxiliary types had -- shall we say -- not remembered to invite.

The CXes lived out in the country. Their daughter had a pony (!) -- there were a few dogs and cats, a large garden, I think. The house was -- now, I was not like a real estate child prodigy or anything -- what did I know? But I just had this impression, that -- the house was more like something you would have "up at the lake" and call it your Lake Cabin, or your Summer Cottage. But that was Their House. That was it.

The mom was very caring, wanted to please you and give you food and wanted you to have fun. She MADE donuts, at home.
The father seemed a little gruff and distant, to me. Once he was wearing a tee-shirt with no shirt over it. Just the tee-shirt, with his slacks. (It was like sitting around with Stanley Kowalski. ["Stella! Stell--aahhh!"])

---------------------------------------------------
My family was invited to the CXes' house for their anniversary celebration. We went during the day -- think it was Sunday afternoon.

A minister's family gets invited to some occasions that other people wouldn't -- like weddings of people you don't know, because your father is performing the ceremony. Cake and those funny little mints which I thought you could only get at weddings.
And you don't get invited to some occasions where other people would get invited -- if it is going to be cocktail-y, the hosts fear the minister wouldn't "approve."

But the thing at the CXes house that Sunday afternoon was a party. I didn't "get" that, going in: expected it to be one of the many boring things I was brought to throughout childhood. I don't recall that there were any other people there, that we knew. First, think I was outside playing with other children, but at some point I discovered "live music" in these people's living room.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That was a completely new experience for me.
A band.
In the living room.
And it wasn't a real big room, so the band was -- RIGHT THERE.
I was -- like -- practically on top of the band. Maybe five feet away.
Loud. Electric. Three men, (I think), and a woman. The woman's hair was a teased bouffant; the men's hair was slicked back, looked like it was wet. Yes, that look.
The name of the band was printed on the drum.
They played country music.
I didn't know any of the songs, but I was thrilled.
To be right there -- in the same room -- where a band was playing.
We had band in school; I was IN it; but that wasn't anything like this.

Some of the adults DANCED. The two-step, probably. Even though there was something vaguely tough, and rough-edged about these people -- as if they had seen hard times, or something -- when I discovered the band playing and saw people get up and dance, it became the hottest "scene" I had ever seen.

I thought it was so exciting and amazing. I was inspired. I couldn't participate in any way -- but to watch -- which I did -- and then when the band took a break, I got this idea -- went up to them with paper and a pen and asked for their autographs.

(They seemed a little surprised by that -- think they were bemused.)
-----------------------------------------
We left while it was still light out. As we drove away my father said, "There is going to be a fight there, before the night's over."

(I didn't see why. -- They had a BAND!)

-30-