And Where Does the Apple Fall?

For those of you without a sense of humor or a sense of irony, I strongly advise you to come back another time. This story is not politically correct. But, it is true and it embodies the connectivity of parent and child -- even with a wicked sense of humor.

You've been warned.



The Humane Society of Indianapolis sent out a plea last weekend. It was on twitter and facebook and sent to those of us on the email list. The food pantry was bare. Like food pantries that many people rely on to feed their families, this pantry helps families keep beloved pets fed.

I knew what I could do. And I knew my parents would help. So, on Sunday morning, my dad and I are loading my trunk with pet food before services. As we walked into church, he said, "Your mom and I can't stand the thought of an animal in need." We started talking about how the commercials with lonely/lost/hungry/abused animals make us crazy. And he said, "We just turn the channel. Can't stand it." I agreed. I'm johhny fast on the remote myself.

As we walked through the parking lot that led us to worship, my dad said, "Those commercials with the starving children don't bother me nearly as much."

At that moment, I knew the apple had not fallen far from the tree.

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Note from author: I beg of you friends. My father would put his life on the line for any child, any dog, any person. Please see the humor and know that I am not showcasing him in any other way.

The Fur Coat Story

A couple of years after I graduated from college, I went to a tailgate party. One of my college guy friends brought a date and she was wearing jeans, decked-out jewelry and a fur coat.

Those were the days before Facebook but trust me, I friended her immediately. Hell, I wanted to be her.

When Dan was the person I wanted to get to know, I borrowed her coat and did the parade lap at Friday's.

Before Dan and I married, he bought me a fur. Later, we were at some benefit and somehow I ended up with another. (Think lots of wine) I bought a mink stole at some antique shop and a girlfriend told me to put it away until I was over 40. I'm well over 40 and I've worn it a couple of times.

When the Captain and the Belle lived with us (my in-laws) she brought a couple of furs and I actually bought her one on a trip to Phoenix. I have since inherited her furs.

This is all to say that no one wears furs anymore and I have a closet full.

I occasionally wear one to the country club -- one of the few places I feel certain no one will throw blood or mustard on me. I wore one to my grandfather's funeral but in reflection I think I did that to make a statement -- "You may have tried to ignore my father but here we are!"

I had a call yesterday reminding me to have them cleaned and put in storage. ($$$$) I will do it. But, I will probably not redeem all that I put on deposit.

And Next ...

My father and I have a running debate about using the term, "Next." Imagine it's a Wednesday and you refer to plans on next Saturday. In my mind, this is not the Saturday that is three days away; it is the one that is 10 days away. I'm talking about this Saturday. He thinks I am crazy.

His analogy is standing in line at the bank. When the teller yells, "Next!" you don't turn around and look at the person behind you. I get the logic but he is still wrong.

I'm truly struggling with what is next for me. Is it right in front of me or is it the hypothetical ten days away? I had several job interviews last week and one of them is a job I really, really want. I've had five interviews for this job. Yep, five. Let me tell you again, FIVE!

I have friends going through awful things... cancer, childhood diseases, bankruptcy, estrangement from their families, etc. You name it, I can tell you about it.

My little simple life seems ... well, simple. And I'm tempted to call the prayer chain to put myself on the list. That seems lamer than lame.

But if I don't get this amazing good fit of a job, I might have to take a vacation and breathe differently for a while.

Words of Encouragement

This morning I went out on the deck and found a note in the dew -- not the first one this week. Today's note said, "Day Nine -- Doing Fine."

It's amazing how something that simple and sweet can set your mood.

I promise not to make this entire blog about my efforts to become a nonsmoker but for the record, it is day nine. And I am still doing fine.

Thanks Dad!