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Candle in the wind

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A Chain of Events

Yesterday, I was driving the city streets, trying to get to work on time, when I ended up behind a slow car in my lane. That slow car slowed me up too and the light turned red just as I got to the intersection. I sat there at the red light fuming and thinking foul thoughts about that slow driver. 
Then, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly what was supposed to happen at just this moment. Just maybe, God was looking out for me. Just maybe if I made that light and continued through the intersection, something bad would have happened to me.
I don’t know what that bad thing could be but my first thoughts were that by waiting at the red light, I missed some other driver also rushing to work and who would have changed lanes without looking and crashed into me with awful consequences. So I waited patiently at the light, quietly thanking God for looking out for me.
You never know what chain of events lead up to you with bit of good luck or with a bit of bad luck.  Here’s a st…

Please, please let us never forget.

As we commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day, a rerun. Because sadly, we need it:

by Vol-E

On Facebook today, a friend close to my age commented that "we didn't learn about Pearl Harbor in school."  A shame, right?

Well, actually, no. It's more a shame that "kids today" need to have someone in school teach them about it. And it's a shame that a lot of them are going to pay scant attention, more interested in the latest missives from SnapChat. Just five years after 9/11, I was sitting in a car repair shop waiting room, and on the TV, the news station was showing the annual reading of the names in remembrance. One young woman looked at the screen and said "What's ...? Oh, it's that thing in NY with the towers and all." And then she went back to her phone or magazine or whatever had claimed her attention. I was kind of outraged. That was 13 years ago; the number of people like her must have multiplied tenfold by now.

Pearl Harbor and the …

Evolution

Note: The magnificent artwork shown here is by Michael H. Fusco and is available for purchase athttps://society6.com/product/tiger-centaur_print

I am stuck in a traffic jam on the highway next to an eighteen-wheeler and nothing to do. So what do I do? I count the number of wheels on the truck. Well guess what, it really has eighteen wheels. My car has four wheels. 

So what, animals have four legs. 

If you are out on the grassland and a lion with four legs comes by and you are a deer with four legs, chances are the lion can run as fast as you. So why don't deer have six legs? That should allow them to outrun the lion. 

Then again, if deer are outrunning the lion and the lion cannot catch them, the lion would starve to death. So then why don't lions have six legs so they can run down the deer? Six-legged lion chasing down six-legged deer is the same as four-legged lion chasing down four-legged deer. Silly me! 

Hmmm, humans have two legs, lions have four legs. That must meant that'…

It's raining men

An odd thing happened in the office. I was waiting by the elevator to go home when the lady I was waiting with asked, why are men so interested in how many men a woman sleeps with?


I don't think she meant to ask this. My guess: Her new boyfriend asked this question and it was plaguing her mind so she sort of blurted it out. Now, I have known the lady for many years. We have worked together on some projects so we are not strangers. Nor are we that kind of friends.

My answer was a shrug, I don't know, and that closed the conversation.

But I do have a vague idea that I did not share with her. I think the question is a remnant of evolution. It's simple. Men spread their seed around with as many women as they can while women are more selective who they accept. We all understand the reasons for this gender behavior. But, in our modern civilization, women can be as un-selective as they want. 

Do you see a paradox here? Her boyfriend was attempting to determine how selective she was …

Rerun: Silly Memories, 1981 Edition

Sometimes you look back and wish you could explain to someone — share the insights that somehow managed to sneak up on you. In my case, it’s Doug (my ex) I’m tempted to explain to, but I know I’d just get a vague shoulder-shrug, so instead, I’ll explain it to the rest of the world. That year, I fled my childhood home (at age 22, at least two years later than most of my peers) and moved in with my then-boyfriend. Setting up housekeeping was fun.  Well, most of the time. One of the things he proposed buying was a coffee maker. I went out on my own, while he was at work, and purchased a stainless steel teakettle. “What’s that?” he asked. “You said to get a coffee maker. This has a whistle and everything!”
“But that’s a teakettle. We need a coffee maker.” “This makes coffee. It’s just like the one my parents have.” This spurred him to drive us both to the local Discount Mart, where we bought whatever cheap, standard-issue coffee maker they had to offer. I’d never seen one before. I caref…