Cheese in My Hair

This past Thursday I attended a gluten free cooking class with my friend Debbie, her husband was supposed to attend but work interfered with his ability to go and I tagged along in his place.  I learned a lot that night, most importantly I learned how I take for granted the ability to eat any little thing I want to eat.

Why does someone choose to eat foods that are gluten free?  My friends I can tell you this, it ain’t because they choose to!  One reason a person may choose to eat foods prepared in this manner is because they have Celiac Disease.  Here is a little clip from the NDDIC; the National Digestive Diseases Information Clearinghouse:

Celiac disease affects people in all parts of the world. Originally thought to be a rare childhood syndrome, celiac disease is now known to be a common genetic disorder. More than 2 million people in the United States have the disease, or about 1 in 133 people.¹Among people who have a first-degree relative—a parent, sibling, or child—diagnosed with celiac disease, as many as 1 in 22 people may have the disease.²

1 in 133 people, it is only by the grace of God it has not touched my family.  Now, not everyone at this class was there because of this disease. There were some with sinus conditions, food allergy issues, or other situations where they were looking for a lifestyle change in order to bring relief to their suffering. Others were there because they were trying to find a way to lose weight and by changing aspects of their diet along with exercise hoped to make changes for the better of their health.

As I looked around at my classmates, eagerly waiting to get the show on the road, I noticed that 98% of the people there were very, very thin, rail thin, European model thin.  That gave me a moments pause.  I had arrived that evening with the knowledge that my friend was there to learn how to prepare foods to help give relief to her respiratory allergies.  I arrogantly thought that gluten free was just one more gimmick to get people to buy expensive equipment needed to grind seeds and beans to make your own flour for breads and other cooking needs.  Boy was I in the dark!

Gluten free is not a means of food preparation because you are some sort of tree hugging fanatic of the healthier lifestyle, it is because your body or the body of your loved one just does not have the ability to tolerate the foods we all love and enjoy without a second thought.  I noticed that the people that were there because either they or their children had issues on the more extreme level had an air of impatience about them.

One lady in particular even appeared angry.  At what? My guess would be at the situation, at life, at food, at the rest of us for being able to stop at a fast food joint and order whatever the heck we wanted.  She was having to ask about substitutes for the substitute given to the regular ingredients most of us use in our daily cooking.  I think that would make me angry as well.  I don’t believe she was truely mad, she was understandably frustrated.  How must it feel to have a child that every day, every meal is a thought out process?  I can’t get my child to eat anything but chicken nuggets when going out to eat, well, she can’t really go out to eat with her child.  At least I don’t see how she does what with all the different things she rattled off he was allergic to.  Don’t you know she has moments where she thinks,who signed me up for this?!!!

Throughout class the instructor prepared recipes and passed around samples of the freshly prepared food for our enjoyment or not, as I found a couple of the items could be, well, rather…..taste free.  Was it all that way? No, the meat and pasta dish was fabulous.  It was prepared with a gluten free pasta that you couldn’t even tell from the “real thing”. One of the breads?  Well, that is a horse of a different color, it tasted the way burnt sweet potato skins smell.  A loaf of sandwich bread samples passed around didn’t taste quite as bad as the previous loaf of bread but it was bland enough to put me off of sandwiches if that was my only alternative.  The chocolate pie prepared for dessert was delicious as well.

The cost for the equipment to do all the milling/grinding? It was on up there, I think health insurance should be required to pay for it if it doesn’t already.  The ingredients,  some of it I thought expensive, some of it not.

All in all, if you are able to eat whatever you desire, enjoy it, not everyone has that privilege.  If you are one of the many that the daily preparation of a meal is a seeming insurmountable task at times, I applaud your courage in putting on a happy face even though at times you must want to run screaming from the building.  Friends, check it out, learn a little something about what many in our world face, it is the least we can do.

Every morning I drop Abby off at school on my way to work.  When I am in a hurry and running behind, I feel aggravated at the thought of having to make the extra stop when I could just be shooting straight to work.  I have found that it is best that I have that final opportunity before she walks through the doors of the school to tell her to have a great day, BEHAVE and most of all I love you. ( She is very energetic and has difficulties settling down.  Once settled down, she has rituals that must be performed and then and only then can she begin the task placed before her, so it is with good reason she is reminded each day.)

She always smiles and says “I’m going to be good” and hops out of the truck to go begin her day.  Abby is actually, from what I can tell, doing OK so far.  Earlier in the year one of her teachers emailed me about some work that was not complete and that Abby had no excuses other than she was goofing off.  We got her back on track, and I realized that even though I had not noticed the usual clues, Abby was dealing with a bit of anxiety.   It reminded me that this was my child that needed a daily reminder to keep her energy and comments in check and when she got home she could let loose then.

We found out when she was in the fourth grade that her style, her little idiosynchrocies, her strange little one man band she was marching to was actually compounded by the fact she had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, more commonly referred to as OCD.  All that time I just thought she was a completely unorganized slob that couldn’t do anything the first, second or third time she was told.  What was actually  going on is that  she is a hoarder and has do to things in fours.  Oh yeah, she doesn’t like odd numbers either and for some reason the number 16, even though it is an even number causes her problems as well.

The way we discovered the problem was when she got really upset one afternoon at a playmate and I told her to just come inside and watch a movie with me.  Don’t worry about that other kid, let’s just relax and forget about the fussing.  About thirty minutes into the movie she looked at me with tears in her eyes and whispered, I can’t stop counting.  I said what?  She said, “I can’t stop counting.  I’m up to 311 but you interrupted me and I have to start over.”  I asked her how often this happened.  She said this was the first time she couldn’t stop, usually, she explained, she could just count fours and she could stop by 16 or 20.  ”Whaaaaaat!” my mind is screaming.

When do you count fours?  ”All the time” was her reply.  That is when I realized that incessant clicking noise she made with her teeth was not just some little nervous habit, it was her clicking her teeth in sequences of four.  If she got interrupted to reply to a question she would start over.  She couldn’t brush her teeth the first time she was told because she had to go in and out of the bathroom door four times, touch the toothbrush four times, turn the water on and off four times….well you get the picture.

I immediately started doing a little research and from there found a professional for us all to talk to.  Luckily for her, the biggest step toward getting a handle on this was being able to tell us it was happening.  After that, it has been a matter of keeping an eye on what causes anxiety in her life that in turn causes her to use the counting as a coping mechanism.  I even discovered that most times when I was talking to someone or on the phone, she wasn’t actually trying to interrupt my conversation by coming up to me and putting her hand on my arm, she was just trying to touch me four times.

Funny thing is, in going through this with her, I discovered in this family she is not alone.  We all have tendencies toward this I believe, but it seems that I have my own little OCD thing going on that has just been chalked up to my quirkiness all these years.  Go figure!  She and I now have our safe words; when she can’t handle life at that given moment she says “chicken wing” and we all know that she is going to take a little extra time to get things she is asked to do done.  When I am having a moment and need for her or anyone else for that matter, to not be right on top of me and to allow me some space for a short period of time,  I say “umbrella”.  Crazy but it works for us.

Her teachers have since been filled in and life seems to be mo’ better for her!  She has had some great teachers in the past that handled this undiagnosed child very well.  Some of them I am sure were ready to pull their hair out but instead chose to take this obviously bright child with problems focusing and work things out to everyone’s advantage.  I will never forget the day she came home from school three weeks before summer vacation and said, “Guess what!”  I couldn’t even begin to hazard a guess.  She then proceeded to tell me she was now able to sit beside her best friend.  I commented how nice that was, but where had she been sitting?  ”Beside the teacher” was her reply.  Beside the teacher? What do you mean beside the teacher?  I have been to her class before, the teachers desk was all the way in the back of the room, nowhere near the students desks.

That is when she told me that she had been sitting beside the teacher the whole year and now that all the grades were in she could sit with her friends again because all the concentrating work was done for the year.  Concentrating work huh?  I was getting the big picture then.   I neglected to tell you that this was the child that couldn’t erase a misspelled word on her paper, she erased the entire sentence and would rewrite it.  Makes it nigh impossible to complete an assignment when you go about things that way.  While one of my issues is item placement upon my desk, hers are haphazardly crammed every which away, so she had to spend time finding things.  Too much time and then all sorts of stray paper or goodies in her book bag could send her mind off chasing rabbits.  Way to go Ms. Teacher for going the extra mile to help keep her on task!!!

Either way, it’s all good.  Abby has improved by leaps and bounds and you would never know if I hadn’t of told you.  This has turned out to be a good year this first year of middle school. There has been no clicking of teeth for quite some time, the volume level on the TV can sit on an odd number without having to be adjusted every time and in the mornings we brush our teeth together without a whole lotta hoopla.  We might just be normal, well normal for us anyway!

What do you think of when you hear the word honor?  The Honorable Judge Judy, Scouts Honor, on your honor.  Do you only think of it as a title or a pledge taken or perhaps your integrity in regards to honesty.  What about honor and your family life?  Honor when it comes to your parenting?   I know, pretty deep for me huh!  Here is what dictionary.com has to say about honor:

hon·or

Noun: 1.  honesty, fairness, or integrity in one’s beliefs and actions: a man of honor.

Verb : 1.  to hold in honor or high respect; revere: to honor one’s parents.

Adjective:  1.  of, pertaining to, or noting honor.

Idioms:   1.  be on/uponone’s honor, to accept and acknowledge personal responsibility for one’s actions: West Point cadets are on their honor not to cheat on an exam.

Ray and I are taking a parenting class at church on Wednesday nights, and the theme is honor-based parenting.  ”A God-centered approach is the ideal and honor is a concept that he wants families to understand.”  The whole focus of the class is that honor-based parenting is the way to go.

I have to confess, most class nights as I watch the video and listen to the class discussion around me I have the overwhelming feeling this is too little too late. Alex is 18, we have completely missed the parenting boat in regards to this altogether.  Abby is 11 and while she is not a lost cause, she is starting to get that attitude that pre-teen girls morph into around this age, are we nuts to think that we can implement this concept of honor this late in the game?

Don’t get me wrong, I do not feel like Ray and I have not done as we should in regards to parenting our kids, but when I was growing up you did as you were told when you were told.  As my daddy would say;  ”If I tell you to jump, you ask how high and  not why.”  Our class has termed this as the power-directed approach to parenting.   I called it the keep your nose clean and ain’t nobody gonna get hurt approach.

The other approach touched on in this class is freedom-oriented parenting.   This method emphasized helping children to be happy.  I want my kids happy, but not to the point that everybody is miserable.  Hmmmm, I bet it is this mindset that changed the grading system from A thru  F to 1 thru 3,  so as to not harm anyone’s self-esteem.   Don’t you know my kids teachers hated taking calls from me.  ”Ok, Ms. Teacher, let’s cut to the chase, is she passing or failing?  I need letters not numbers, I got F’s in math when I was in school, so this numbering system is just complicating matters for me.”

But I digress.  Honor based parenting.  It seems that I am a pendulum that swings from one extreme to the other when it comes to the parenting of my children.  When I was younger it was the swinging of a freshly wound clock back and forth between the way my parents did it to how I would have liked for them to have handled things, you know, the happy way.  Now as I am getting a little older and more experienced I find the pendulum swinging at a slower pace and not going from one side to the other as rapidly.  My desire is that the pendulum stop dead center and remain there.

My children are good kids, they are not afraid of us but have a healthy respect for us.  They have shown us that even though they have selfish tendencies, they do care what we think and how we feel about them.  They know what honor is, they just don’t realize that is what it’s called.  Honor is not something I can teach them as simply as riding a bike or tying their shoes.  Honor is something they learn daily by observation and interaction, using everyday circumstances as examples of how to react and interact with one another.   So even though we want to stomp off and slam doors, we won’t, or at least not everyday.  We are still a work in progress. That doesn’t mean we won’t feel like doing it, we choose not to but instead  take an attitude check and approach things differently.   For me, during the course of a busy day it feels more efficient to dole out a butt whupping or a chewing out and move on, in reality it just causes a lot of unnecessary tension.  Teaching the girls how to speak respectfully,  be reasonable in their attitude and actions and how we are not their enemies but in fact the only people on the earth that love them unconditionally will carry them further in life than a “my way or the highway” attitude.

So is it too late for Alex?  No, this is right on time, just like God, he’s right on time every time.   Abby?  Such a free spirit, and one with a honorable nature. You will never meet a child more focused on what is fair.   She can’t stand it if everyone is not treated honestly and fairly.  God forbid someone should be left out, whether it be a treat or their turn at something.   They are both saved and their salvation is secure, now it is our desire they be taught honor so that the life they live here on earth will be honoring not only to us and those around them but to their father in heaven as well.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     ~  Philippians 4:8   KJV

There comes a time in every parents life when you realize that once you have children there is nothing sacred in the house anymore. Privacy goes out the window.  By the time we realize it, it’s too late!

For example, in the same way that my children are convinced that I have eyes in the back of my head, I believe that they have an inner alarm that goes off whenever my bedroom or bathroom door shuts and they are not in the privileged zone with me.   No matter how carefully I try, when I shut my door, just to try and get a moments peace, the distinct snick sound that signals the raising of the drawbridge at the master bedroom rings like a shotgun blast throughout our home and the kids come a runnin’.  ”Mommy”, “Can I borrow your shirt, can I sit on your bed and eat cereal, can I use your nail polish remover, eyeliner, hairbrush etc and so forth.   All these little Can I’s are in reality Trojan horses to try and gain entry so that once the door is opened,  everybody comes in (including the dog), to shatter the peace and whine and fight with each other.   I’m pretty sure their goal in life is to make me bug-eyed.

I’m not really trying to stay away from my girls so much as I am trying to keep them from seeing all the really good junk I have squirreled away in my room. I have to hide it there, they are like a combination of termites and red ants. What they don’t eat, they carry off to their rooms down below, then I never see or hear from it again! I believe all mom’s hide good stuff somewhere in their rooms.  I also think that master bedrooms should come complete with a secret panel in the wall to hide Oreo’s or Smarties or whatever it is that satisfies your sweet tooth.  For once, I would like to go to the goody jar and not find it empty, especially when I just bought the sweets the day before!

I have gotten to where I hide my emery boards in the box that the PreparationH came in.  Crazy, but it works. They are there when I go looking for them, although Ray thought it was a cruel joke and that I was making fun of a very unfunny situation.   I have gotten so good at camouflaging my stuff that sometimes I can’t even find it.  Just the other night I was going to take a shower very late, after 11 pm. I was digging through my cabinet looking for a shower cap that I use when I don’t want to get my hair wet.  I looked high and low, it was nowhere to be found.   I was not happy when I couldn’t find it and was I certain that Abby had gotten it and was doing who knows what with it.   Well, it wasn’t like it cost me anything, I had gotten it with some complimentary toiletries on the last trip I had taken.  Oh well, easy come, easy go.

Later, after getting into the bed I started laughing when I remembered that I was the one that had taken the shower cap out of the bathroom. I had used it on at the last family holiday when I was trying to find something to cover the huge bowl of potato salad I took over to Ray’s parents house. Don’t freak out on me, I had only used it once, it was clean and free of stray hairs and I even turned it inside out for extra measure.

Well, what would you have done? The bowl was plastic and saran wrap and aluminum foil are a joke when it comes to covering large and flexible plastic bowls……….

I love nothing better than going to my friend Trina’s shop and getting my hair did. There is something very therapeutic about it. I think it is because her shop is a whole lot like Truvy’s shop from Steel Magnolias and I tend to fluctuate between Clairee and Ouiser depending on my frame of mind at the time.

Abby has been on my case to cut her hair for the last couple of days so tonight I finally buckled down and went to hacking away. I would like to be able to tell you that I carefully prepared a spot in a well lit area and brought out the special shears especially for cutting the precious locks of my little angels. Not so much. In fact, since my children cannot keep their grubby paws off of scissors of any kind around here.  I had to send them on an Easter egg hunt for whatever scissors they could find and I chose the pair that stuck together the least to grant her request. I probably would have been better off cutting her hair with the little plastic scissors you purchase for kindergartners. The package swears they will not cut hair but you and I both know that is a lie from the pits of hell.

What’s really funny, is that while Abby was reminding me that I promised to cut her hair today, her older sister was texting me asking if I would fix her hair for her when she got home. Fix? I texted back. What do you mean fix? She responded that she had one of those kits where you pull your hair through a cap and you then apply a bleach solution for adding highlights to your locks. I have to believe she was feeling lucky.

The whole time I was pulling her hair through the cap I kept saying, you know the chances of your hair turning orange are better than average….are you sure you wanna do this? I have plenty of examples of when I have played Dr. Frankenstein on my own hair; you would think I would be the last person she would be asking to apply bleach to the top of her head.

Either way, Abby’s hair is shorter than I intended, but nearly even on each side. There is actually only one place this is gapped up; since she never really stands still I don’t think it will be noticeable. Alex’s hair turned out way better than I ever expected. I just knew it was going to turn yellow or orange and then start breaking off at the ends. It didn’t, the color looks fine, but between you and me you can tell in a couple of places on one side where I pulled it through the cap and the color stops right before the scalp. I tried to warn her.

I offered to cut Ray’s hair for him while I was wearing my beautician hat, but he was not falling for it. That was probably a very wise decision on his part.

As Alex gets closer to her graduation day I think about how much fun I had in school.  I hope she has made the most of every opportunity as real life is just a few steps on the other side of that door.  What door?  The one she goes out of every morning on her way to school.    Soon she is going to step out that door and the tunnel vision that had marked her path to the school yard will dissipate like the morning fog when the sun comes out.  For the first time she will have a panoramic view of her world and all that it has to offer.  I remember that feeling, it was like reaching the peak of a mountain and for the first time being able to really see everything around you.  After taking a good look around, you make a choice and strike off in that direction.

As I have gone about my journey in life, I have gotten sidetracked, derailed and up heaved.  Have I ended up where I was headed?  Not yet, but I have learned many things along the way that now have me better equipped to reach my goal.  As a Christian, I already know what my ultimate destination will be when I leave this world.   Now, my desire is to make the journey an honoring one.  I want my life to have meaning and I want to depart with having made a worthwhile contribution.  I like to think that we all do, but I know that some of us are living in circumstances that are so intense that daily living is a struggle all in itself.   I hope that I am able to use the circumstances that I have encountered in my life to make a difference in someone else’s.

This in a nutshell is why I write, that and the fact there are days that if I don’t get to tell someone “what just happened” I will explode.    I like to think that perhaps somewhere, sometime we have all gone through  similar things.  If not, well, maybe in the future if you do,  you will remember the time you read about it happening to me and know that you too can live to tell the tale.

Up to this point you have heard about the funny things that have gone on around here.  I also have had some serious things happen as well.  I don’t live a charmed life by any means.  I know what steps to take to post bond to get someone out of jail.  I have personally seen the devastating effects of alcohol and drug abuse on a family.  I have written obituaries for people I was close to, and watched as close friends were buried by their parents.  It has not all been fun and games, but it has been these things that make me who I am today.

Among my circle of friends, I have a reputation for being the “Minister of Information”.   I was given this title by a friend as a joke.  At the time the war on Iraq had recently been declared and the Iraqi Minister of Information was telling camera crews that they were not being invaded or some such nonsense and as he was making this declaration, on national television, tanks were rolling out behind him.

Actually, me being the Minister of Information or MOI as I am dubbed in some cell phone’s, is an oxymoron.  I have a wealth of information, too much in fact and most of it useless.  What I don’t have squirreled away in my steel trap of a mind, I can find out fairly easily.  Sad but true.  How did I get this way?  Some of it by actual hands on experience, and experience in things that you really don’t want to encounter.  For example: When bonding someone out of jail, if you choose to use a bail bondsman at least one person signing must be gainfully employed, retirees won’t work.  Seems they have no faith in the governments Social Security program either.

Mostly my information came by keeping my mouth shut and my ears open and by learning to ask questions.  Reading a lot helps too.  What do I read?  Everything. Ray says I have a love affair with the printed word.  I read everything from the newspaper to the nutritional information on the cereal box.  I don’t know why, I just do.

My friends will also tell you the downside to me having this info is that I am not so ready to come off the hip with it.  I will ask questions and file away whatever answers you give me, but I am not so forthcoming with information.  You want to know something about somebody?  I will usually tell you to ask them.  Then you will get the information straight from the horses mouth.  Not a popular answer, but a respected one.  I’m a very private person, so I tend to have an aversion to giving out private info on others.   Now general information, that I will dole out like butterscotch’s so I’m not completely selfish.

For a private person you might think it strange that I blog about the goings on around here, I think it is way weird.  I think I do it is because I need confirmation that I am not living in a bubble and the rest of you out there can relate.  I have to believe we all at some point wondered if we are the only ones that have crazy family and friends.

The fact of the matter is, this is my life, so I live it.

The day dawned bright and sunny, sunny and 60ish.  I slept until my eyes popped open around 11am, you can’t ask for more than that now can you?

Our youngest, Abby, bailed on us and went to her grandmothers house.  The rest of us had the distinct pleasure of heading out to Harley Davidson of Atlanta and listening to the Village Idiots perform for the Bike Week Kickoff.

If you have not had the opportunity to hear the Village Idiots, you are indeed missing out.  What an awesome way to enjoy our first day of spring like weather!!

Great music, great friends, great to be in touch with my inner idiot!!

To book the Village Idiots contact Richard Armstrong: richard.armstrong@gmail.com

The same way that Ray is the household expert on how to fix a broken faucet or how to keep the lawnmower running, I am the resident electronics geek in the house. I don’t know why, I no more have a clue how this stuff operates than the man on the moon.  Do I let that deter me? Nada chance! I will put together, sync up, hook up, download, burn or copy whatever you need.  It’s my claim to fame in the family; “Get Annette to do it, she ain’t askeered. She’ll figure it out.”

What my family does not realize is that I have spent many an hour on the phone with my sister, friends and co-workers asking the “stupid questions”. That’s how I learned to manuver my way around the computer, scanner, camera or what have you. Over time I eventually knew what to do in certain situations. If I am lucky, the issues that arise fall into my area of “expertise” and I am able to continue to live with the title of “wizard of oz”, just as long as they ignore that girl behind the curtain.

The downside to all of this is everybody gets real pissy if I cannot, or seemingly will not fix their electronics issues. I have to believe that even for the Geek Squad it is just a crap shoot when it comes to the things they deal with on a daily basis. Don’t get me wrong, I know they are very knowledgeable and must be successful or they wouldn’t be in business, but let’s face it, there has got to be times when even they are left standing around scratching their heads.

The difference, they will eventually figure it out. I on the other hand will waste countless hours trying to find the solution before I give up. Is this wise? Not so much, but perhaps I can get points for persistence.

My family lived out on Baywood Drive in Atlanta, GA until I was in the second grade.   Our street went downhill and looped around in the shape of a horseshoe.   All the yards were terraced and had retainer walls that we would sit on summer nights to watch the fireworks from the Lakewood Fairgrounds.

On the weekends you could hear the cars on the racetrack.  From what I understand, some of my in laws frequented the raceway at Lakewood.   Funny to think how we were so close in distance and yet worlds apart.

That was back in my days of sling statue,  red rover, red rover send Billy right over and lighting bug lanterns were preferred over flashlights.  The only fast food I knew of was Jiffy Pop popcorn and we often ate crab apples off the tree in our yard until our belly’s ached.

One of my favorite memories about Baywood Drive is that the neighbors would come over on Friday nights and dance.   The furniture would get pushed up against the walls, the rug was rolled up and the console stereo would get cranked up.

Us kids would go outside and play, but we could see them from the big picture window.  I always thought how much fun they looked like they were having.
The next house I have,  there will be a living room large enough so that if we all decided to, we could dance!

The country singer Josh Turner has it right with his song Why don’t we just dance. Ray gave me his new album Haywire as an early Valentines gift and this is one of my favorite songs on it.   It think it is because it brings back the memory of my parents and their friends dancing.

“….Well, it might be me but the way I see it, the whole wide world has gone crazy.  So baby, why don’t we just dance….”

Today a facebook application called “friends exposed” asked me this question: If you had to choose between a million dollars or a million friends, which would you pick and why?

My answer? A million friends. I believe that while money can gain interest, having friends is more interesting. Don’t ever put a price on friendship, it will cost you more than you can ever pay.

I am always amazed at some of my old friendships. Even though we took different paths in life, when we do have the opportunity to speak once again, how easy and comfortable the conversation can be. That to me is the sign of a true friendship. I am also finding that reconnecting with people that I went to high school with and making a point to attend events and make lunch dates with them has brought a ton of joy to my life! Whoda thunk it, me the hermit!

When I think back on my friends from school, I can tell you right now, but for the grace of God, any of us could be dead, or worse, residing in “Earl Lee’s establishment”.  I grew up during a time when the drinking age was 18, the liquor store at 5 & 20 had a drive thru window. You could have a shotgun in the gun rack of your truck on school property and if you were lucky, you didn’t get injured badly enough last night when the jeep you were four-wheeling in rolled, so you didn’t have to tell your parents what you had been up too.

In my town several of the school pot heads ended up working narcotics on the local police force. I laugh every time I think about that. You know what? I believe it was wise on their part to “go with what you know”. If you really think about it, we should all have in our circle of friends a preacher, a banker, a doctor, an athlete, a musician, a judge, a lawyer and most of all many good ol’ boys who might someday be on our jury! (Never say never.)

Be a good friend so that you will have good friends. Be a real friend not a fair weather friend and most definitely call when someone comes to your mind seemingly out of the blue. You may never know how much that call might mean to them.

Do I have a million friends? No. According to facebook I have 775 “close and personal friends”. You know what? I think I will add that to my bucket list, to make sure and get to know each and every one of the people that I call friend on facebook. Perhaps I will send out one of those crazy questionnaires with 5 simple questions for my friends so that I can get to know them better. I wonder if they would all participate?

A million friends? That would be cool to have.  I think I would like having a million friends. That’s a nice even number dontcha think?  If I ever need a million dollars, perhaps I can borrow one dollar from each of my million friends……and if they ever need a dollar I will make sure I have one to give.