Happy Father's Day

Psalmcat 51:6.20.10

Daddy's gonna get his card and Applebee's gift card late, because I didn't get it mailed until mid-morning Friday, but I loved the message and wanted to share it, with Mom's help. (I'm counting on her to read this to him.)

What caught my attention was that the card had a cartoon cat on the front. Most cards for dads don't have cats unless they are from a very young daughter. When I opened this one, I couldn't resist sending it.

I wanna thank you for teaching me so many valuable lessons, like ..... "Money doesn't grow on chickens before they're hatched," "The early bird gets a job worth doing well," and "Two wrongs don't make a penny earned." ..... And you thought everything you said went in one ear and walked a mile in their shoes! Enjoy your day!

I thought this was a cute card. I don't see it being as much about what parents say or teach as what kids hear and learn. And I don't think of Daddy as someone who butchers sayings such as these, although he does have his own way of saying things sometimes. What I like about the card is how it messes with the familiar adages -- and gives them whole new meanings!

My Dad didn't graduate from high school or go to college. (Editor's note: After I posted this and my mom read it, she asked me why I thought my Daddy didn't graduate from high school. I have ideas about why I thought that, but I won't go into it here; I guess he raised a dummy! Interesting -- and I'm sure I'll never make that mistake again!) But I know he's a smart man who values knowledge. He reads the Sunday newspaper more faithfully than I do -- and he asks me questions about current events, as well as history. I like that he keeps me on my toes. He's also always worked hard and tried to do what's right. Those are values that are instilled in me.

And because of him, I can make a special claim as a daughter of the psalmist's son, which is something dear to me as a singer, writer and one who strives to be a woman after God's own heart.

I love you, Daddy, and hope to see you again soon!

Straddling a line between right and wrong

I'm aware of a situation in which, on a day of a special event, the only parking place available in a company garage was partially filled by a car straddling the line. So the driver of another car in need of a space tried to squeeze in. And that second car bumped up against the first car, leaving more of a paint mark than the driver would have expected. The driver quickly backed out and went to find a space outside the garage. The driver didn't leave a note for the car that was hit.

The driver claims he/she normally would have left a note and has left notes accepting responsibility in similar cases. But he/she was adamant against doing so this time, because he/she contends it never would have happened if the first car had been parked within the lines. What this made me realize is that I totally agree with the driver who tried to squeeze in. Spaces were at a premium, and that car shouldn't have been over the line. At the same time, I also know that two wrongs don't make a right. And that certainly seems to fit the description of two wrongs.

I discussed this with a friend, who asked how I would feel if I owned the car that was hit? My quick reply is that I wouldn't have been parked over the line, so it wouldn't have happened. But if I did park over the line and it happened, I'd realize and accept my fault.

I guess I keep thinking about it because it could so easily be me. I'm definitely one who has tried to work my way into a crowded parking space, sometimes successfully, and sometimes giving up when I could tell it was impossible.

I'm trying to draw a good lesson or conclusion from this. For one, I guess it makes me more aware of the risk of trying to squeeze into a crowded space. But I'm still not convinced I won't try it again if the opportunity presents itself.

So, for all the progress I see myself making in some areas of discipline, setting boundaries and taking responsibility, here's an area where I'm puzzled by how certain I am that the first wrong justifies the second wrong.

Maybe the lesson is that I'll never be perfect, and I can't expect others to be perfect. But two wrongs still won't make a right. I pray that I will choose to make right decisions even when a "wrong" seems justified.

(It just occurs to me this incident involved 3 wrongs: The first driver over the line; the second driver bumping the first car; and the second driver not leaving a note to let the first driver know. Hmmmm. How would I feel about that? Not too good. Maybe now I understand a little better why my friend thought it was imperative the second driver would own up to bumping the first car. But I can also see how the second driver could rationalize that it would just be opening up a potential messy situation that could be easily avoided by not saying anything. I'm still not proud of that attitude, but it's honest right now.) (Lord, if I need to change, it's up to YOU!)

Detour ahead

Construction of Norman's "long-awaited Robinson Street railroad underpass," as it was described in the Oklahoma City newspaper, has begun, and I'm looking for a new church.

For months -- actually, years now -- I've curiously followed the discussions and votes involving this step of community progress. After the project was approved, I've watched as houses and businesses have been vacated and then moved or razed. Whenever I've asked what effect this would have on the church located about two blocks east of the railroad tracks and one block south of Robinson Street, I've always been assured it shouldn't be much of a problem. But the latest newspaper article, plus all of those before it, make me think otherwise. Add to that nearly 28 years of commuting at least 20 miles to and from work and about that many years of driving across town for church, and I'm pretty sure I have reason to be concerned. Construction detours are no fun. And, living west of the tracks, I see no way around this one, unless I find a different church.

Of course, that's not what I will do. As good timing would have it, the desire to just avoid the situation arose the evening before Wednesday morning prayer. So, by time I drove to church, stayed awhile to pray and then drove home, I knew again: No excuses. Construction may be an obstacle, but it can't be an excuse. I may be late, but I won't be absent -- not because of construction detours, anyway. Even as I write this, I'm trying to make it a commitment. It's not going to be easy. I know from experience that if I'm running late and get stuck in traffic, there will be a strong desire to just head home when I finally get out of the traffic jam. And I know from experience that the chances of me leaving even five minutes earlier to partially offset the construction delay is unlikely.

Maybe the best I can hope for is to use the impending detours as another opportunity to persevere through a challenge (a relatively minor one, I have to admit) and also to remember there's no time like being stuck in traffic to count my many blessings!

Let the "Memory" live

Psalmcat 51:6.14.10

The request: Would I be willing to be on my sister's Relay for Life team and represent the team in the fundraising pageant. The instructions: Sing a song dressed like the singer. Our first thought was something from "The Sound of Music." That sounded easy and fun. But something stirred in my memory, and the next thing I knew, I was destined to be a singing cat!

You see, years ago -- maybe 20? -- I had another sister make me a furry cat costume for a Halloween party. I knew that costume -- including hood, shoe covers and mittens -- was still in my closet, although I had not worn it since then. I also knew I'd once sung "Memory" from "Cats the Musical" at a church talent show, wearing a much simpler version of a cat costume.

Something about Relay for Life -- typically a 12-hour walk to raise money for a cure for cancer, to remember those who have died and and to provide hope and support for survivors, which takes place in communities around the nation -- makes wearing a full-body, furry cat costume on a hot June evening in Perry, Oklahoma, seem like just the right thing to do. And did I mention that, since I'd be performing as a cat, I'd be speaking in meow, hiss and purr? And did I mention that I am a grown woman?

I did not find favor from my private audience of cat at home as I practiced my pageant performance. Bridget just did not understand or appreciate. Oh, but she did inspire me! Even though I had no idea how an audience of people would respond, I could hardly wait to find out.

Curtain time for the pageant was 9 p.m., and I started putting on my costume about 8:50. I had not done a dress rehearsal, but it went amazingly smoothly. And then it was time to take the stage. The emcee asked contestants to introduce themselves. The first was a group of performers doing a medley from "Grease." The next contestant? "Meow." And who are you representing? "Meow, meow." Somehow, this smart emcee knew that meant I was representing Orange Crush.

All of the other contestants introduced themselves (during which time the cat took a little nap), and then it was time for my question. The emcee coaxed me out of my slumber then asked a question. I think it was what's my favorite kind of ice cream? That was easy. "Meow meow!" She seemed pleased with the answer.

Soon, we all paraded off the stage, to be called back when it was our turn. I was supposed to be about fourth, but because it was a hot night for a cat, they let me go second. I immediately laid down on stage, but when the music started, I perked up. I just can't resist singing along to the music of "Memory," and so I did. I didn't really know or care what those people thought. This cat was just having fun. Too soon, the music ended, and I had to step off stage.

But as I walked down the steps, the most heartwarming thing happened: A young girl came up, half boldly and half timidly, and asked if she could have her picture made with the kitty! And thus began about 30 minutes mingling with young and old, being appreciated just for being a cat! I only saw two young children who were overly traumatized by this big furry thing, and I tried to ease away slowly.

With the help of relay team members, including my sister, we were able to collect almost enough donations to win the title! But Grizabella the Glamour Cat wannabe singing "Memory" from "Cats the Musical" won a prize that couldn't be topped: The response of those children to a silly old woman willing to dress up in a cat costume and meow musically to her heart's content, and then to be petted and photographed with. Let the "Memory" live again and again!

https://youtu.be/pr8w444XJIQ

https://youtu.be/e5r7Rf23bkg

Still no excuses

In the 12-step program I attend, a popular saying is that there are only two times to go to a meeting: 1, When you feel like it. 2, When you don't feel like it. As I've been striving to grow in my commitment and discipline in many areas of life, the saying has come to mind often.

There are only two times to go to church: When I feel like going, and when I don't feel like going.
There are only two times to be faithful in my marriage: When I feel like being faithful,, and when I don't feel like being faithful.
There are only two times to do the right thing: When I feel like doing the right thing, and when I don't feel like doing the right thing.

As I was driving to The Seeking Hour at church at 7 this morning, on a day in a week in which I really didn't know if I had time to do it, I thought about the relationship between commitment, feelings, reasons and excuses.

It occurs to me that there's really not a relationship between commitment and feelings unless I let there be. If I've made a commitment, how I feel at a particular moment won't affect whether or not I honor that commitment.

Now, sometimes there may be reasons not to follow through on a commitment. The car may break down at the last minute, making it impossible to get church or a meeting. Sickness is a valid reason. There may even be times where tiredness is a legitimate reason, but usually that's a matter of not having been wise and disciplined in setting priorities and using time.

More often, the "reasons" for not following through on a commitment are mere excuses: It didn't fit into my schedule. I was too tired. I had too much other stuff to do. And such excuses often are tied to feelings.

These insights help me as I seek to grow in my commitment and faith to God. In fact, these insights surely come from that journey toward stronger faith and commitment to God. I am grateful for that and so much more.

Summertime!

Being a copy editor is a challenge between Memorial Day and the official start of summer. Someone once drilled into my head that something can't be described as summer, winter, spring or fall until it really is that season. So in some silly version of jumping through hoops, I can't count how many times I changed summer to summertime or some variation thereof this week. Summertime salads. Summertime movies. Summerlike weather. I don't even know whether the rule is still in effect. We haven't gotten a reminder, but that may just be because the chief reminder has been on vacation and everyone is still overworked. Some things are getting overlooked. Many grammar and style rules I grew up with or learned along the way have fallen to the wayside.

I just know that I love summertime! So, here's to my extended summer season -- late spring to early fall. Bring it on.

Blog time, Memorial Day weekend edition

Tonight's writing is back to basics. There's only one reason for me to be sitting here typing right now, and it is because I made a commitment to myself, and I'm trying to follow through. The commitment/goal: Post something at least once a week, a goal later refined to mean don't go more than seven days (Saturday to Saturday, etc.) without posting.

There have been things I've wanted to write about (Relay for Life; joy of working hard; a fascinating Psalm passage; getting locked out of choir practice) before and since I posted last Saturday, but I've ended up being too tired by day's end to even try. It would have been nice to have one of those rare moments where words and inspiration just come, but that didn't happen.

I know most of the reason. For the past two weeks, two key people on the reduced staff at work have been gone, one for vacation and one for medical reasons. I haven't worked all that much longer these days, but the intensity has been high. By the time I get home, I feel mentally drained. Unfortunately, rather than go to bed when I feel tired, I'm more likely to lose focus and end up watching TV, surfing the Internet or reading when the very best way to spend my time would be with my body in bed and my head on a pillow.

Now it's Memorial Day weekend. I'm so far behind, I don't even know where to start in trying to catch up at home and then also to enjoy the holiday. I guess I've started by blogging. Tomorrow, I may watch the Texas Aggies play baseball here in the Big 12 tournament. I can't even justify in my own mind why that's worth doing, but I want to do it, and I can, so I think I will. (I think I'll take a book and some paper to write on, though, in case my mind starts wandering, I start second-guessing myself, and the ideas flow!)

For some reason, that made me realize the holiday also brings up some emotional issues, involving such things as my own lack of knowledge of history and my connection to it. It's one of those times when I think there are probably things I should be doing, but again, I don't even know where to begin.

Tonight, it starts with writing and posting. Before the weekend's over, it will include some precious time spent visiting my parents and other family members. Maybe there will be questions and conversations to stir memories. Or maybe there will just be the peace and comfort of shared presence and being away from the craziness of work for an extra day. I'm ready.