Radio Schmadio

I realize I’m not like most people, but there is something that has really been bothering me that I just have to get off my chest.  I like all kinds of music, but what I find myself most drawn to is Christian radio.  I like not having to worry about what I’m listening to in the car with my child and I like that I can sing along and praise God and be uplifted.  These are good things.  There are three really good stations here too that I have to choose from.  What gets me though is when they have listeners call in to discuss “topics” or talk about “where they are” in their walk.  You know what, radio people…I DON’T CARE!!  I know that sounds callous…because it is.  Here’s the deal though:  When I tune in to the radio station it is because I want to take my mind OFF of my problems and have a little bit of an escape.  It isn’t so I can listen to how much worse someone else’s life is than mine.  That isn’t encouraging…that is depressing.  I don’t need to hear about how you kicked your drug habit or how you lost the person you care most about in the world.  I don’t care to cry on my drive home.  That isn’t really good for my abilities behind the wheel, not to mention what it does to my sinuses.  I don’t want to hear some listener whine endlessly about how much your station means to them.  Put that on your website or something…That way people who want to be depressed can read it and wallow in their misery along with them.  I’m sure your website even has a section for prayer requests; another thing that doesn’t need to be broadcast on the radio for all the country to hear.  Those things are personal and should stay between the listener and God.  The whole nation doesn’t need to pray for Aunt Wanda’s appendix.  Also, don’t beg me for money every five minutes.  Sell advertising like normal people.  I already give to my church.  Stop making me feel like I’m sending children to their death because I can’t spare another $30 a month.  I know it is a great way to reach lots of people to help those kids.  I don’t deny them that, but just say what you need to, give a link to their ministry and move on.  Don’t make us feel like we are failing as human beings if we don’t have anything extra at the end of the month to send in.  I’m sorry.  Some of us be po. 

Another thing that really irritates me that pertains to Christian media in general:  why is it that when a movie is labeled “Christian” it means that automatically there WILL be tragedy and someone will have to overcome adversity?  Could we not just ONCE have a feel-good Christian romantic comedy?  Just ONCE people!!!    Nobody dies, nobody has some horrible disease or gets hit by a bus and has to recover…just a good ole, romantic comedy about two losers who find each other and end up happily ever after.  I’m just sayin…


I’m Grumpy & I Know It

As some of you may know, I’ve been a bit “under the weather”, as they say, lately so I haven’t written much.  To give you glimpse into my world of late, I had kidney stones, which led to an infection and while I was home taking care of myself I contracted my husband’s nasty head cold.  Now I am not only fighting the infection but I also have a lovely head cold to boot.  This, my friends, has put me in quite a lovely mood.  Now, with that preface out of the way prepare yourselves, because here a couple of things that really chap my hide:

 I’m a planner.  I can be spontaneous, but for the most part I like to know what I’m doing.  When things like concerts come around that I want to go to I try to get tickets as soon as I can so that I get the seats I want.  If they happen to be general admission then I am the one who will get there super early and get in line so I can get the coveted “aisle seat.”  It isn’t so much because the view is better as it is that I have a little bit of what they like to call “claustrophobia.”  The idea of not being able to jump up and run should something bad happen petrifies me.  Yes, I realize my logic is flawed in that the facility is huge and I would still get trampled, but my chances are improved if I’m the first one to the door.  I do the same thing at church.  We go to a large church, so I like to get there early and snag an aisle seat.  The thought of having to sit in the middle does bad things to me.  Don’t even get me started on what happens if I have to sit in the balcony.  Now, here’s where I get prickly.  It never fails that about two songs in at church someone will come up on stage and announce to us that it would be “SUPER” if we could all just squeeze in to the middle seats to give those just coming in a chance to find a seat.  To this I say NO!  I don’t mean to sound unkind or unchristian-like, but give me a break!  I did not get up early, get myself ready and get down there when I did only to be smushed in at the last minute by Mr. “can’t wake up to an alarm clock and didn’t take a shower, but still had time to stop for coffee.”  So, perhaps I’m a bit jaded.  I know what some of you are thinking.  No…I promise I will not be that cranky old lady shouting at the kids to get off my lawn one day.  If you try to get me to give up my seat, however, you are getting the stare down. 

 Next, let us travel on to the topic of people who are clearly at lunch.  I am an hourly employee.  I am physically at work for 9 hours a day, but one of those glorious hours is all mine to do with as I please.  That hour is called the LUNCH hour.  Many of those I spend at my desk with my door closed, quietly reading or playing a computer game, but it is evident that I am AT LUNCH.  Why, then, is it deemed alright for you to just come on in and discuss whatever manner of work you feel necessary with me?  A quick hello?  Fine.  Got some papers to leave with me?  No problem!  Sitting down to have a conversation about meetings you might like to happen next week?  GET OOOOOOUT!!!!!!  Most of the time I don’t get so riled up about such things.  I think it is just the fact that I’d really prefer to be at home on my sofa with a fuzzy blanket, my pillow and my cats that has done it to me this week.  Oh the humanity!!! 

 My advice to you for today, kids, is to drink plenty of water, stay away from people who sneeze constantly and keep clear of me for a few more days.  It’s safer that way for everyone.  I’m just sayin…


I had an interesting weekend.  Saturday morning I went with my sisters to an “antique mall” not far from us.  I have to question what people are trying to pass off as “antiques” these days.  There were things there ranging from the very old to the very recent.  Some things still had tags on them from Macy’s for crying out loud.  I’m pretty sure that stuff wasn’t around back in the day.  Just because something is older than you are does not qualify it as being antique.  In fact, I saw so many things there that fell within “my time” that I became offended and decided to look up the term.  The commonly accepted definition of the word “antique” is something that is at least 100 years old.  I would venture to guess that very little in that store fell into that category.  I think antique malls have become places where serious yard sale fanatics have started unloading their unsold merchandise during the winter months.  They can clean it up, call it “vintage” and slap a higher price on it.  I have nothing against this practice, mind you.  I, myself, might try a hand at it at some point.  My real question is…how do you know if what you are buying is, in fact, an antique?  What if I wanted something that was honestly over 100 years old?  Where can I shop if not at one of these stores?  Alas…these are the things that keep me up at night.

 The rest of my weekend was spent trying to pass a kidney stone.  Good times, I tell ya.  That brings me to my next point.  I had to drink a LOT of water.  I noticed something during my water consumption that really annoyed me.  Why is it that water bottling companies only put 16.9 ounces of water in a bottle?  Why not 17?  What is so horrible about putting that extra .1 ounce in the bottle?  Do they just like messing with OCD people like me who need the number to be even?  Do they want the average person to have to do harder math to calculate how much they drank that day?  What is it?  PLEASE someone tell me.  I have to know. 

 Also, after reading up on this kidney stone issue I discovered that it is apparently very bad for me to be drinking tea and eating chocolate.  Those are major irritants.  Those are also two of my favorite things.  The only thing worse it could tell me not to have any more is doughnuts.  That would have been the trifecta of cruel.  So, Dad, after all that preaching to you about having to give up cigarettes and beer I suppose the universe is paying me back.  Enjoy the laugh.  Pretty soon I’ll be slipping off to the garage to invade some stash of warm tea and return to the house with chocolate on my breath and a goofy grin on my face and my daughter will be telling on ME to HER daddy.  Who knows though…while I’m out there I just might find some “antiques.”  I’m just sayin… 

Say Whaaaa?

I was laughing at something my sister posted on Facebook the other day stating that she “like to not have got her truck door open” and it made me think of all the funny, odd little things that we say all the time that probably has other people scratching their heads wondering what on earth we just said.  (By “we” I mean MY family.)  We are an odd lot.

My personal favorite that I’ve heard and used my whole life is “I’ll let you get back to your rat killin’.”  No…I don’t know where this started.  You use it when you are done talking to someone and wish them to resume their daily activities. 

What are you “funtlin’” with?  That would mean, what are you working on.  My dad uses this one a lot. 

“I’m hotter ‘n a fox.”  This was a favorite of my late Aunt’s.  She would say this when the temperature in the room was a bit too high.  I’m not sure how hot a fox should be, but clearly one can become uncomfortable at some point. 

“Harry!”  (Pronounced Hay-Ree) This was another of my late Aunt’s favorites.  She would say this whenever she was excited, afraid, agitated, upset, terrified or just didn’t know what else to say.  I have to admit, we all wondered just who, exactly, this Harry was.  She took this little tidbit to her grave with her.

“Have ya’ll been out galavantin’?”  This means to ask if you have been out running around…to the store and whatnot. 

“How in the Hatched-Headed Hell did you do that?!!”  When my dad uses this phrase you know he’s pretty upset.  I’m not sure how bad “hatchet –headed-hell” is in comparison to regular-headed hell, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to find out. 

“I’m all discombobulated.”  This means I’m out of sorts.  I’m not too sure this is isolated to my family, but it’s still pretty uncommon. 

If you are ever at my parent’s house and one of them says they have to consult their diaphragm whilst putting something together….think nothing of it.  They are referring of course to the diagram.  I doubt either one of them has any idea what an actual diaphragm looks like or what to do with one. 

Also, if you ever ask my dad what he’s up to and he actually gives you an answer like “Oh, around 140” he‘s referring to his weight.  Please note, that I will NEVER answer you in this fashion.  If there’s one thing a true Southern lady never does it is divulge her weight in polite conversation. 

Now maybe you will be at least a little prepared for polite dinner conversation should you ever find yourself at my family’s place, unlike my best friend in high school.  She was from Pennsylvania.  The first time she met my Dad she just smiled and nodded a lot.  When we left she asked me what on earth he had just said to her. 

Well, I’m “fixin’ “to get outta here and head back to the house.   You know, God willing and the creek don’t rise.  (That’s for real where I come from.)  I’m just sayin…