I didn’t think anyone would notice if I skipped posting for a day or two. I have been working on editing and formatting a story I wrote about Easter. I’m going to make it available in paperback on Amazon. I’m probably too late for this year, but I’ve started the process, so I will finish it.
My 2nd father Gus, called and said, “It’s been days since you’ve written anything on your blog! What is wrong? “
I don’t like to call Gus my stepfather. As much as I loved my Dad, he was only in my life for 29 years. Gus married Mom when I was 20 years old. More importantly, Bill and I have been so thankful to have him in our lives. He was and is our Angel. He took care of our Mom for 38 years, and he is a genuinely good man.
I wrote this poem a while back and it has nothing to do with the aforementioned. It’s about owning your own mistakes.
Next week, I will catch up on the Connie stories and the Water Towers…
The Blame Game
Does your cell phone cause you strife?
Mine really wants to run my life
It pushes me to desperation
I have no time for preparation
When a call upsets me some
I react with something dumb
I type my feelings fast and furious
Knowing the sendee will be curious
Wait! I want to keep this friend
It’s too late, I just pushed send
Back to my life, who can I blame?
All my reasons sound real lame
Give me a sec, I’ll think of another
Can I blame it on my Mother?
Yes of course she’s the one
Who made it look like so much fun
Ahh.. but she was such a pro
My reactions are much too slow
Dad must be the reason why
I lash out and sometimes cry
No..when he saw me throw a fit
He told me to get over it
I can’t give up all pretence
While I still have one defense
Times are different now I say
It’s hard to rise above the fray
Your thoughts weren’t so electronic
Agitations weren’t so chronic
Bartenders listened again and again
As long as you didn’t say.. “when.”
**********
I guess you think I’m ungrateful
And my voice sounds really hateful
It’s not my fault, it’s just you
Who can’t see what others do
No help will come from those I love
No healing words from up above
There’s nothing I can do today
Nothing more for me to say.
Nothing makes my troubles vanish
They even sound weak in Spanish
One thought.. gives me pause..
Have I figured out the cause?
I haven’t wasted all your time
while I assessed the crime
It was my cell phone’s fault you see
It could never have been me
Those 70ish Girls 
Too much.
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Nope, Judy and I. I don’t think Suri knows how to laugh.
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My favorite “Judy’s angry” story happened when she was trying to ask Suri a question on her new iPhone. After repeatedly failing to get a correct response and growing more and more frustrated, she said, “F*** you, Suri!” To which Suri replied, “Now, now….” in that soothing tone of voice. We laughed so hard.
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We meaning you and Suri? Kip and I tell her to shut up all the time. Suri, not Judy.
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Now that’s funny. I don’t use Suri at all.
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Imagine what fun some computer Geek had programming that into Suri’s repertoire!
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Geeks do like humor no matter how odd it may be.
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You must know one🤔
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I have very little patience when it comes to electronics. I like paying for my gas at the pump. I get out of sorts when I have to go inside and pay. I usually take it out on the poor clerk. Don’t get me started on vending machines…I expect those devices to work every time. I love my cell phone though. I never thought Dick Tracey’s technology would come to fruition. Nice poem and pictures MG.
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We’re the kids of the 70’s. We have seen more progress in technology than all those before us, and it happened so fast 07!!
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It won’t be long and whole movies will be animated and we won’t be able to tell. We won’t need movie stars anymore.
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I’ve learned to type today, send tomorrow–when it comes to angry emails. Well, usually!!!
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Do you get angry??
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Today I got so angry at paypal that I was SCREAMING invectives to their machine. A half hour and I couldn’t get my business done.. simply trying to link my bank account and they had to have a phone number for my account. I tried every possible phone number and none worked. Circle around every time. Finally I got another “help” line and after waiting for 15 minutes, they just told me to do exactly what I’d been trying to do for the 15 minutes before. Do no people work for these companies? I fear my language was VILE and LOUD and then I realized that everyone on the beach and street could probably hear me, plus my upstairs neighbors. Sooooo embarrassing. Ah well. There goes my image. I don’t usually get angry at humans. If I do, it is a quieter sort of anger.
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My Mother told me the louder you talk, the less people hear you. I laughed so hard.. not because the advise was bad, but because she couldn’t talk quietly when she was happy!
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