November 27-

In effort to Keep Up With People, send out email correspondences. One dear friend can only text on phone. Am inclined to find texting as annoying as traffic lights. Exchange of reminiscences and current news by means of tiny keypad and two thumbs is most trying and requires hours and hours.

Keypad changes letters before user, me, has chance to spell word correctly. Answers to various comments delayed due to sluggish thumb activity, and cross paths with puzzling effect: How is your dear Sister? Reply: We have them with eggs in the morning.

Other dear friends never answer email as they are either so busy or never check messages. Am left wondering how future biographers will be able to compile letters and correspondence about me from intimate friends or acquaintances. Regret deeply the loss of actual letters on paper and sent by Post Office.


Have finished reading delightful book about famous chef and her adventures during WWII and while living in France. Before becoming a Chef, she was in OSS. Feel extremely envious of adventures of women spies and long to Travel Back in Past and join spy organization.

Copious amounts of correspondence archived in libraries from both her and husband are of invaluable assistance to Biographer. Both wrote hundreds of letters over years and years and gave Biographer much to chew on.

Recall reading anecdotes from various writers about journeys to remote corners of country to collect boxes of letters and journals. Remember my own tendency to get rid of anything that is not nailed down. Feel sure future Biographer will only learn about my passionate nature by reading copies of complaint letters written to various merchants.

old letters

(Note to self: Bequeath complaint letters to Don for Biographer’s possible use).

Am reminded of entire letter question when looking for public mail box during drive to retrieve customer’s stalled van parked on street. Drop boxes most inconvenient due to slot being on passenger side of car, and wonder if dear Postmaster General expected every car to carry minimum of two persons.

(Perhaps Sugar could be trained to hold letters in mouth and deposit them in slot?). Further wonder whether British drivers experience same inconvenience with mail boxes, but decide not, as curb would be on driver side? After researching, discover this is not so.


Upon seeing customer’s van, realize it is exact copy of Don’s. It is parked in front of large apartment complex. Idly observe to Don that it is good thing I didn’t see van when on my own, or would wonder if he was seeing Another Woman. He advises me to learn our license plate numbers.

On the whole, can see where this might be prudent course of action.




November 24-

Singular encounter takes place at local pharmacy. Dear Don and elderly man exchange words as to whether clerk was shouting at woman who came in with small dog. Don defended clerk as not having shouted, but merely Doing Her Job. Elderly man disagrees and wrangle ensues.

Wrangle ends when two policemen, having sensibly stayed at back of store and well out of fray, stroll out escorting small dog under arm and stroking canine perpetrator on head. (Original woman with dog mysteriously not seen again).

Am reminded of mysterious giant fire hydrant in nearby park, and wonder if current incident is prelude to dogs taking control? Current dog not only the subject of controversy, but has recruited local law enforcement as minions.


Can only suppose dogs will do much better with Civilization on the whole.  (NB: As bike rider, am familiar with Ankle Biting tendencies of small dogs, and feel vague fears forming.) Remember recent odd behavior of dear Sugar Baby. If she is part of future plot and invasion, will I have advantage, or be First to Go?

dogs playing poker

Further disputes with computer take place when website insists I type in series of letters and numbers called ‘captcha’  Designation of jumbled symbols sound like ‘capture’ and since seeming purpose of captchas appears to be to drive internet users outside and Into Traffic, name is apt. Running into traffic not recommended as vent to frustration.

(Query: Although internet was introduced by my generation, is it truly meant for the aged and frail of mind?) Reminiscences of past inventions for which special aid and instruction were needed, and disappeared before they were were mastered, appear in mind’s eye: Answering machines, tape players, microwaves.

While browsing online, read symptoms of many forms of cancer. Reading about diseases not a favorite thing to do, as become convinced I have all of them. Medical course in school a failure as was positive I had every condition described in textbook.

Decide later that if medical career a non-starter, have advantage in Decanting Things. During course of housecleaning, combined three partially used bottles of ketchup, two packages of saltines, and two bottles of mustard. Cannot understand dear Brandon’s reluctance to use up remaining amounts of things left in jars and bottles.

Perhaps Little People will have Answers to this.  If not, will insinuate myself as authority on vagaries of human nature, and Laws can be passed.


(Mem: Make note of own odd tendencies and make effort to eradicate them. Start with massive collection of library books).


November 20-

Local calls now require dialing the area code, should it become necessary to even call number as close as next door neighbor’s, whose name, after seven and a half years of close proximity, I still do not know.

Greater possibility exists however, of recognizing courteous father who replaced pane of glass after patio umbrella blew through bedroom window at fifty miles an hour, and whose face appeared unexpectedly when I was still attired in nightshirt.

March of Civilization continues backward and I reflect that at current pace, as evinced by necessity of dialing ten digits instead of six, we will soon be in need of crank phone mounted on wall, and nasal-voiced operator singing Pennsylvania Six Five Oh, Oh, Oh. This will be followed closely by use of dear little Carrier Pigeons for communications.

Pigeons ubiquitous, and have hopes of not going to great expense acquiring fleet for personal use. Fear that neither large wooden phone on wall, nor Pigeon will fit neatly in purse when leaving house on errands, and that pigeons likely to make mess on contents of handbag.

(Las Vegas decrees dealing with increased population difficult to follow.)

carrier pigeon

Contrast to anonymous, yet friendly next-door neighbor, arrives in the shape of landscaper who maintains yard of vacant property across street. Young man stands in street shouting obscenities to sky about mysterious annoyances which obstruct his performance of duties.

This intemperate behavior exhibited over several weeks. Consider calling authorities, but as shouting appears to be extent of his hostilities, I emulate Bad Samaritan and ignore him.

Feel that recommending Anger Management classes would not be well received and remain ensconced safely at home.

(Cherished belief that Working with Nature denotes peaceful and gentle nature, now defunct.)


Vibrations from aggressive gardener perhaps pervades house, as new owner requests Brandon’s help in unloading refrigerator from truck. Wife has thrown kitchen knife at him and house is in uproar.

Brandon did not get Wife’s side of story, and can only tell him that if, for example, Husband has agreed that she Looks Fat, he probably deserved it. Hope that Motherly Lesson to Brandon will be remembered before similar incident takes place in his own marriage.

(Suburbia far from dull.)

Take dear Sugar Baby on hike to mountain. Wistfully recall former residences when hiking was within short walk of home, but now entails driving minimum twenty minutes. Mountain is home to hermit who has lived on desert mountain for more than eight years. Cardboard sign updating his life is posted on stick halfway up slope, but was not on view today.

(Query: Does isolated home in tent among rocks and dirt prohibit Hermit updating followers on Facebook or Twitter? Much more convenient for the sympathetic and interested Sometime-Hiker.)

Horses and riders come up behind Sugar and I, one rider singing lustily. Riders dressed in cowboy gear, but do not appear to be in posse, or herding cattle. Cattle in residential areas very scarce, whereas barbecues, tacos, and steaks, are not. Pick up branch of dried Joshua wood riddled with many symmetrical holes, and plan spending spree with Big Money I will make from turning piece of wood into earring holder.

Arrive home very stiff and sore, and dear Brandon reminds me again that Nothing Good ever came from exercise or broccoli.


November 16-

Thoughts of Christmas cards materialize and feel pressure of approaching holidays. Lack of participation in almost all festivities in recent years has had definite effect on number of cards received, until we are now beneficiaries of perhaps five from acquaintances, most of them our dentist and doctor, whom we like very much. Nevertheless, feel compelled to think about Cards every holiday season until such a time as it is too late to do anything about them.


Tremendous rainstorm floods alleyway behind house and invades unit on property. Insurance agent informs Don that had the flood been from rain falling down from sky, damage would be covered. However, he says, That is Not the Case here, as Flood came from alley.

Our view is that the original source of rain was the sky, which proceeded to fill alley, and visit itself upon the foundation of house. Our views and agent’s opinion on whether flood was Act Of God, or whether rain acted on it’s Own Recognizance, differ widely. After discussion, I advise Don to address all future payments to Wonderland, and procure services of Mad Hatter as agent.


Dear Don’s retirement looms, and I research houseboat rentals on the Mississippi for future vacation. We agree this would be relaxing and exciting experience, and that we have responsibility to see more of Our Own Country. All is rosy until search for floating house on Google includes suggestions such as ‘Mississippi houseboat accident’, followed by ‘Mississippi houseboat tragedy’. Fear that if I continue, search will yield ‘Mississippi houseboat and End of World’ and leave it for the time being.


(Reading is to blame for American yearning to Wander. Books such as Huckleberry Finn and Travels With Charlie partially responsible for Road Trips and rafting down unfamiliar rivers.)

Sugar Baby causes personal uproar when I discover foam pad wantonly destroyed in backyard. Ask her with quiet, Deadly Smile if she’d like to go for a Drive in the Desert.  Sit down and have serious discussion explaining How Disappointed I am in her.

Idle conversation with Don veers, cannot say how, to the relative attributes of salt, sugar, and butter. Recognize that while people are entitled to their decisions about dietary choices, I affirm that I will never give up the Big Three entirely, and in fact, use two of them liberally, every day. (Consensus of thought quite satisfying, as we agree that giving them up may, or may not, contribute to longer life, but Earthly Existence will definitely Feel longer.)

Catch up on Pressing Business, entering grocery store sweepstakes. Code appears on front of invitation whereby I can enter and win a tailgating party, or, $10,000. Code is Butkus. Am not sure whether this indicates immature response of grocery store for patronizing other merchants, or is merely coincidence. (Have recourse to the Great Wizard Google, and learn that Butkus is name of professional football player. Mentally apologize to young man with this moniker for thinking his name a joke).

(Mem: Must make effort to be more culturally aware. Lack of knowledge of professional sports can lead to embarrassment when complaining to grocery store about having a Bad Attitude. On reflection decide that I don’t care, as we will be Long Gone on our houseboat after winning Big Money from sweepstakes.)


Dear friends who have gone on trip to Europe arrive home and inform me they have read all entries in Diary. Am much impressed and gratified, and make early New Year’s resolution to send them Christmas card by December 24.




November 13-

Overwhelming urge to clean out closet overcomes me and I pull quantities of things out and strew them over the bed, chair, and floor. Find myself unable to move out of things surrounding my feet and call for help. Dear Brandon is preparing a turkey for dinner, but rises to the occasion by helping me to clear a path.

Later, as I walk through kitchen, he begins to whisper to turkey, rubbing it with spices and garlic, and Spanking it lightly.

The next day, he looks for something to eat, and informs me that the turkey had four legs. I tell him that in these Troubled Times, that seems perfectly reasonable. We already ate two, he ate one, and now there is another. Dear Turkey has grown another leg, no doubt due to Brandon’s whispering to it while he dressed and seasoned it.

Should future Wife need extra limbs for athletic endeavors, she will have Perfect Companion to provide her with them.  Dear Sugar shows some envy, but suspect this is more from desire to share in riches discovered than from desire to sprout fifth leg.


Efforts at Getting Rid of things begins to Pay off, and many, many items have been sorted and disposed of, and are in donation boxes, or garbage. Take heart at this state of affairs, and feel I am ready to tackle Bigger Things. Boxes of records and books are next in line for sorting, but have no great hopes that I will be able to let go of them all.

Young man who buys records is scheduled to come over and sort through stacks with me. My plans to dig up pedal pushers, pink scarf to tie around neck, wear hair in flip, and lie on stomach popping bubble gum while sorting through 45s and LPs, will no doubt, not meet with enthusiasm from young man.


Receive text from email address with same last name as myself. Unable to remember family member who tells me about woman who has competed in national marathon. Consider responding to anonymous, but genetically-related person, that I am now champion Pole Dancer, that dear Don has become a woman, and Brandon is interning at White House. Feel this would be appropriate response to text bragging about family member I do not remember off-hand. I request more information from sender, and he replies that He is a Grandfather now, which does not put me any further ahead.

Have recourse to my brother, who Remembers Everyone, and find out he is a cousin. We have actually met several years ago, but neither of us recall this immediately. He and his wife have had twins and quads, who are now grown, my brother informs me, and she is running marathon. Am suitably impressed, but still inclined to begin announcing to relatives that I am now pole dancer.


While out shopping, overhear elderly man flirting with Young Thing. She tells him she is single, and he accuses her of ‘Keeping it All to Herself’. Young Thing laughs uproariously, and I reflect that Great Age is a relaxing state of mind that doesn’t require a great deal of thought when dealing with the Opposite Sex. Consider using Suave Suitor’s techniques on the next young man that strolls my way.

Spend eleven hours the next day submitting dear Diary to blog directories. Eyes are dry and staring, brain is buzzing, but find myself unable to stop.

Circle of Life has invaded internet activities when I write in Diary about submitting It to directories.


November 10-

Vocabulary Circle of Life makes it’s first appearance in Diary. Dear Brandon tells me English dictionary has caved to Societal pressure, and the word ‘literally’ is now defined as being both actual and metaphorical. This change occurring because word has been misused so often, that universal incorrect usage has led to ultimate validation with inclusion in dictionary. Excellent example of people who are so wrong, full circle is achieved to Being Right.

(Query: Why cannot this desirable state of circular error manifest itself when gaining weight? To become so overweight that one is actually thin would indeed validate a Higher Authority for many people.)

Spend unprofitable half hour trying to decide which definition I might change, should I have time to misuse a word often enough. This would require that I use it incorrectly in front of a great many people. It would also entail Leaving the House and Talking to People.

circle of life

(This course of action has rarely proven beneficial.)

During freak wind storm, patio umbrella with pole from next door is picked up and thrown through pane of glass near bed. Tremendous crash makes me wonder if we are under attack by Middle East, and prepare to volunteer my Services with all speed. Just as I am being awarded Medal of Honor for bravery Above and Beyond, neighbor begins to replace pane of glass with admirable lack of unnecessary words. Only wish Neighbor had informed me first, as I was attired in my usual nightshirt sans underwear. Was quite startled to see strange male face at window.

Neighbors are Guatemalan, and I reflect that courtesies of cultures other than strictly American very commendable. With other neighbors would perhaps be waiting forever for new pane, or would just replace and pay for it ourselves. (Broken window could conceivably be attributed to Act of God, although cannot understand why God does not like my window.)


Weather now cool enough to plan yard sale. There appears to be more items for sale than are in house. Check to make sure boxes are still filled with items no longer needed, as tendency of family to ‘rescue’ articles from boxes depletes supplies. (NB: Am reasonably sure every item will become sorely missed and needed the moment it is disposed of. Am also sure that each family member will decide in favor of keeping everything, snatching items from the hands of shoppers.) Memory recrudesces of dear friend’s mother who went to thrift store to buy back everything he had donated, with her consent, he had supposed.

(Mem: Find donation center across town and claim loss of memory as to where it is.)

Call dear Aunt, who has recently turned 91. Could not reach her by phone, so after trying in vain to reach relatives, called her local police and asked them to check on her. When I do talk to her, she is bubbly and cheerful about two young, handsome officers who came to her door.


She tells me about neighbors who are growing something that smells very strange. After investigation, she discovers they are growing marijuana. Reassure her that it is no doubt legal, or at least very close, and adjure her to show caution. Should field catch fire she would become stoned, which would be very strange at her time of life.

She also tells police officers about neighbors. Cannot convince her that mellow people are much nicer to be around than drunks, and in fact, do not indulge in violence or have traffic accidents. Arguments fall on deaf ears. (Dear aunt has perfect hearing, but ninety-one too advanced an age to think more progressively.)

We discuss great-grandfather who ran away from home at age ten, became stable boy, then jockey, and finally wealthy racehorse owner. Dear great-grandfather one of the few in family to Achieve Wealth.

(Mem: Ask dear Brandon why he didn’t run away and make Big Money for us? It is too late now, as he is no longer ten.)

Go shopping to acquire new purse. Very specific tastes as to what is needed and wanted in a handbag, and find myself sitting in chair, surrounded by a great many bags, and discussing merits, or lack thereof, with sympathetic elderly man who is sitting near me, waiting patiently for his wife. He very kindly examines bags with me, and discusses whether each has the desired attributes. Wife reappears, they depart, and I make decision.

(Query: Have men been unfairly maligned as being unhelpful when it comes to fashion choices?)


October 27 –

Editor, whom I suspect of dropping the ‘o’ in, has informed me that my effort to be possible contributor with article about yoga clothing Isn’t Quite the Thing. I respond by return email that I Haven’t slightest clue What they Want as my attempt fulfilled all their requirements as to Trending Topics, number of words allotted, and  Journalistic Format.

I further inform him that since their published articles read as if they are written by middle-school students, I suspect their ad for writers is fraudulent, and is Thinly-Veiled attempt to get readers instead.

(Have to date not had a response to this).

Am perfectly aware my reply is also reminiscent of middle-school, but am not inclined to check childish impulses, the frequency of which are growing with Age. Have strong suspicion that level of maturity of most people is merely for show, until such time as they feel free to behave according to inclination rather than expedience. Conclude this is why elderly are seen as cantankerous.


Reference to middle-school brings to mind pleasant (rather than unpleasant, of which there are many) memories of time spent teaching seventh-graders. Remember seeing three of them in hall during class rehearsing a skit for the Revolutionary War. One was marching up and down with musket, while other two performed duties as Villagers.

One Villager remarked to other that ‘The Rednecks Are Coming, The Rednecks Are Coming’. (Have no doubt this is true, but general alarm as to this news not imminent in all fifty states.) Fellow Villager responded in language not in vogue at time of Birth of Nation, ‘It’s Redcoats, you Dweeb.’


Sending scathing emails quite tiring, so spend rest of day drawing Zentangles with geometric shapes. This activity conducive to calming the spirit, as becoming agitated when doing Zentangle is difficult in the extreme. (Finding patterns in everything I see also results from doing Zentangle.) Inspiration strikes to fold papers in half to make bookmarks with patterns, and laminate them for inexpensive Christmas gifts.

Followed through on inspiration and made a Zentangled Bookmark for a dear friend. Can think of nothing less expensive, as total cost, including stamp, is less than two dollars. (Do not tell her this, however.)


As change of pace, dress Sugar in boa which is mysteriously taking space on bedroom floor and shedding feathers, which she occasionally tastes and spits out.


Plan spending spree with Big Money I will make from selling Bookmarks on handicraft site.

November 06-

Truck has been stolen from driveway and plans for swimming and shopping temporarily stalled. Personal observational skills in need of honing, as driveway is mere twenty feet from bedroom window, and theft occurred in broad daylight. Police do not arrive to take report for three hours. I provide them with details about stolen contents such as GPS unit, but am not convinced motivation for Grand Theft was my CDs, which include Doris Day and Matt Monro.


Don goes in search himself, and finds vehicle two blocks away in apartment parking lot. He uses extra key and drives it home. I inform police so they may call off their search. They become agitated when they hear that Don has Taken Law into his Own Hands. Dispatcher tells me, in tones of rebuke, that He could have been pulled from vehicle and Arrested had a police officer seen him.

Consider replying that thieves would be quite fortunate to have police On Hand to see us take our own vehicle, while preserving prolonged absence when it was stolen from driveway. (Query: Is improvement being made in Character when I fail to make sarcastic comment, or is this merely pragmatic decision that Discretion is the Better Part of Valor? Answer as to whether Character is Improving remains murky.)

Contents of boxes in truck, which had old clothing and were slated for donation to thrift store, distributed everywhere as if tossed by the Mob. Am ready to look for perpetrators and exact frontier justice, after they have been tied in trunk and driven Through the Night to a frontier, but Don dissuades me from any action.

old west

(Mem: Check all passersby on street carefully, to see if they are wearing my old clothes.)

Crime Spree comes to end without bloodshed, and expect rest of week to be uneventful. However, when at home alone, I hear footsteps on roof of house. Footsteps far too heavy and measured to be that of an animal, so occurrence joins other family stories of ghostly visitations. As ghost appears harmless, my only condition for our corporeal hospitality is that he should reveal numbers for the Lottery. Would be happy to Put in a Good Word for him in effort to earn him his wings, should we win Big Money.


(Query: Does the Afterlife confer psychic benefits, or are the deceased cheating and asking a beneficent Deity for the numbers ?)






November 04-

Receive anonymous email that is one line only, curiously worded, and quite possibly grammatically erroneous: Are keen for work for a couple of months as an assistance. Cannot decide if this is Opportunity of a Lifetime for me, or whether sender is searching for that opportunity. Perhaps he wishes to be of assistance to me, or is wishing I’d get off My Duff and help him out. Without further clarification, I leave him to his own devices.

Sit down with dear Sugar and give her lecture expressing great Disappointment in her Poor Choices. She has torn huge chunks out of foam mattress that is used for lounging in back yard. Would prefer, as I have explained to her many times over, that she confine masticating impulses to rawhide, tasty rocks, and cast-off shoes.


She evinces every indication of comprehension, with canine vows of cooperation henceforward, manifested by furrowed dog brow, so expressive of the Sorrow and the Pity. Tears are lacking, but cannot expect everything.

Determine anew after watching news that traveling by bus will never Figure in my future. Public transportation seems to have power to instill violent impulses in random strangers.


(NB: Vision of self as Budding Environmentalist who does not wish to leave carbon footprint evaporates forever, without regret).

Dear Brandon wanders in and we Talk Politics. He has been Learning Things from discussions online. Internet friends are questionable influences, being self-confessed anarchists and communists. Muse on similar conversations from long-distant youth when older brother debated politics with our father. Older brother Activist and Liberal, and dear father was conservative Republican and former military, so results far from harmonious.

Brandon ends discussion with anecdote from middle school when classmate taped red ‘A’ on his back during class. I inquire whether this meant something indicative of an unpleasant personality, or did his classmate think he was an underage Adulterer, reminiscent of Hester Prynne and Scarlet Letter? He told me the red ‘A’ meant Anarchist.

(Perhaps Hester Prynne should have had recourse to Politics rather than Love? These Two are sometimes confused by elected officials, but am sure poor, dear Hester would have been able to tell the difference.)

Dear Hester’s last name is underlined in red by computer typing monitor. Could I possibly mean ‘prune’ or ‘preener’ or ‘spryness?’ (Query: Why would I mean those?) Suggestions of typing monitor difficult to comprehend. Mr. Hawthorne would no doubt disagree with monitor’s suggestions also, as Hester Prune does not carry same panache as original name.

Make lunch date for later in week with dear friend who is office manager. She agrees to lunch but stipulates that work is stressful and must therefore be back to office strictly in one hour.


Reflect that I should Feel Guilty about being only person I know who is not working, but feelings of remorse steadfastly refuse to surface.

(Query: Am I perhaps Anarchist at heart? Would much prefer to embrace Hedonism, as anarchy sounds rather chaotic and a great deal of work.)



November 03-

Mild weather entices and I carry computer, coffee, Kindle, pad and pen, camera, and magazines outside. Hurricane force wind springs up, neighboring teenager starts personal rock concert, other neighbor honks horn many, many times, and all available, able-bodied dogs begin to bark. Peace ruined, but I persevere in hopes that all will calm down. (Mem: Little People will certainly Hear About This when they arrive for planned invasion).

rock concert

Carry paraphernalia back inside when dirt starts blowing in face, and go grocery shopping.  Stand behind woman who is complaining to butcher, who comes around counter and into aisle to verify woman’s complaint. Woman turns to me, raises her hands, and states that daily Routine prevents her from being at store First Thing. She appears quite distressed over personal turn of events, but am unsure how to reassure her, as telling her Everything Will be Alright seems inadequate, so continue with my own shopping.

Idly wonder what she might do if Butcher and I stood shoulder to shoulder and began to mimic Greek chorus for her benefit, intoning in unison about the Universal Conundrums of Life. Would she know to reply to our Queries in verse, in order to facilitate narrative being told with continuity? (Greeks had much to contend with when entertaining audiences.)

greek chorus

Cashier informs me that it is Senior Discount Day, but assures me I wouldn’t be interested. When I tell her I am Senior, she looks surprised and says I am doing something right as she had No Idea. While I suspect her of circumventing actually asking if I am Senior, I subsequently take her home to keep in basement for boosting moods.


(Note to self: Must return her, as we have no basement.)

Balmy weather perfect for bicycling, but am reminded of Pomeranian Offensive from WWII when usual collection of small dogs rush at my ankles as I pedal, yapping ferociously. (Thousands of compact canines dropped by tiny parachutes behind enemy lines would have done much to win the war.)

Cannot however, decide whether neighborhood is Coming Up, or Going Down as houses not seen in months are either, a) neglected and seedy looking, or, b) in process of being renovated. (Decision as to how the Economy is Doing remains in limbo.)

(Mem: Information about State of the Union should not come solely from bicycling. Resolve in future to make use of more official news sources.)


Small dogs and WWII causes memory to recrudesce of conversation between myself and former fellow teacher. While ensconced in several thousand pages of Mr. Wouk’s novels about WWII, I make observation that Jews were remarkable for not only surviving, but thriving despite horrors visited upon them. In response, fellow teacher informs me that Bible Study explains that Jews brought horrors upon themselves because they Turned Away from God.

Am temporarily bereft of speech. Regretfully abandon first impulse, reaching across desk and yanking her hair very hard, many times, as plan would not be conducive to continued employment, nor be appropriate exhibition for impressionable young minds. I merely reply coldly that I will check with Jewish people to see if they concur with her assessment, and conversation comes to abrupt end. Resolve in future to abstain from trying to have Intelligent Conversations with strangers.

(Deep shudder commences when thinking of certain mind sets conveying historical information to young people.)

Later, other responses present themselves and I mentally inquire of her what it means when Christians go through similar trials? Repartee after the fact unprofitable, but useful as vent to feelings. Feel urge to write message to Mel Brooks in order that he may compose skit making fun of her. (Dear Mel would know exactly what to say.)

Mel Brooks

Below: My dad, a Decorated Fighter Pilot, an Air Force major, a veteran of World War II and Korean War, and Jewish.