No one Else
No matter how I try I’m still the same
Plain Old Me
© Sometimes, 2016
OK Folks…I have dusted off my Historian Mode, and hauled out some of the material that has been stored in my brain, and in old bond paper boxes inside of huge cardboard boxes, numerous bright-color folders with pockets, and a filing cabinet. In addition to that paper stuff I have other boxes filled with forms of information storage–computer discs of all sizes, some readily available and some on ancient systems that may or may not be within my technical expertise.
If you are reading this through glazed eyes…relax! It isn’t going to be as bad as it sounds. But if your reaction is some version of “oh heck no!” I won’t hold that against you…but for all (maybe two?) of you who are interested, thanks and I promise I’ll keep it short and interesting (subjective, I know,) and use hyperlinks for the reallly borrrring stuff. You know who you are, and I have a pretty good idea.
Those five words that begin with the letter I — Information, Interest, Intelligence, Ideology, and Indigo — are related in classification, and not necessarily in any order. “Indigo” in this instance refers to the so-called Indigo Children, which by definition have all of the other concepts.
please stay tuned…
History is the tale
of all past things good and bad,
of events that trail
others more happy or sad.
There’s no happenstance unique,
of which we can speak.
Improvements are made
innovation will occur;
success in efforts to trade–
when parties concur.
Finally, when all’s said and done
History’s its own clone.
Thus, treaties aside,
world nations should try
new ways to abide
others’ world views eye to eye.
of History’s repetition.
© Sometimes, 2016
“Good golly!” gushed granddaughter Gina.
Goodness gracious… gab about Gaudy !
Grape-colored gifts make for gratitude
and garnets are groovy gems!
Gentlemen get gorgeous gals going gaga
with gardenias and gourmet gumdrops…
and going to gather a girl in a glorious, golden-hued Ghia —
gives hints of grandeur and gentry–or just a generous guy!
© Sometimes, 2016
(A few words about friendship.)
F is for Friend,
the kind that lasts Forever.
Some are Fabulous,
and a Few are Frustrating.
Some play a Fiddle,
Now and again a French Horn;
Fashion bugs dress up,
Others are Fickle — or Fake.
Far best are the Friends
who Frivolously Frolic
but ne’er Fail or Fall
regardless of what we do.
One must BE a Friend
in order to HAVE a Friend–
listen and Follow
and remain sympathetic.
© Sometimes, 2016
Today’s A-Z Challenge deals with the Letter-E.
Into Every circus ring–
Especially when in groups.
They Even do tricks, when given a chance to perform.
Even more Eager, though:
Great soaring Eagles
(I will re-post this next April 4, 2016… back to the future, so to speak. It’s new title (will be) Dreams of a Drama Queen: A-Z Challenge The Letter D.) Sorry about any confusion…please just enjoy the post! 🙂
In my dream I was taking the GRE, the examination for applying to graduate school. There was an endless list of multiple choice questions, in a booklet that had many pages. I kept looking to the back pages, trying to determine how many questions there were, and how long before I could expect to be finished. There was a time limit, but it apparently was far more time than needed.
The GRE dream was part of a more comprehensive dream in which I was, on another level, preparing a WordPress post with the creative opening phrase: “The thing I like about blogging…” played over and over in my dream, but never got to the point–or if it did I don’t remember it.
I dream every night, and those that I recall in detail after I wake up, tend to remain with me indefinitely. In fact I still remember dreams I had as a child. One such dream was actually a nightmare, when I was coming down sick with flu symptoms. The dream consisted solely of a giant, twirling bullseye…and the theme was Dick Tracy. Remember him? He was a comic strip character back in the 1940s, a police detective with a dark fedora hat and a face with sharp-chiseled features.
Another disturbing dream was when I was quite young, and I was in grandfather’s garage and God was chasing me around a wicker doll buggy. I was terrified, and when I close my eyes I can picture the scene. I had the impression that it was God, but he looked more like an old Father Time persona, complete with white robe and long, flowing white beard.
In that same era my little Self also experienced a beautiful dream, which presented like a suddenly-technicolor scene in a Disney movie–with a colorful panorama of flowers and little animals cavorting in a pastoral setting. This impression of the movie screen changing from sepia to brilliant Technicolor, was used effectively in the movies produced at the transition period when the use of color was new.
These dreams of seventy-some years ago, and the fact that I remember them so vividly, may have had something to do with my general fear of the movies. I was petrified, scared to death. Maybe because the theater was dark, and the screen was enormous–the size of a wall, creating images of real actors who were literally gigantic.
My well-meaning grandparents were hell-bent on introducing me to the delightful and adorable child actress, Shirley Temple, who was the cutest child in the world at the time, (according to her legion of fans,) and would have been nowhere near as terrifying had she not been presented in giant proportions on screen.
Just the thought of that dark cavern with the giant people and booming sound makes my heart freeze.
It was years later, when I was about twelve, that I could finally attend movies in a theater. And yes, that was back in the day when television was finally getting to the masses, but my parents didn’t get TV until about 1950, and by then those movies were not near as intimidating on a 12-inch screen. Matt Dillon (Gunsmoke) was my parents favorite, and they really wanted me to share the excitement and charm of Gunsmoke and other “shoot-’em-ups.”
Just think about how scary some of these modern horror movies would have been on the giant screen….I’d still be hiding!
Clouds… something I never paid much attention to before this year, when they became one of my favorite photographic subjects.
Chuckles… with my sense-of-humor, which very few of my acquaintances seem to understand, exceptions being some of my blogger Chums
Children… three of them with C-Names: Candace, Constance, Carol. We were on a roll when we named them. Straight out of our Bible, which had lists of Saints’ names for prospective babies. The first a compromise, the second named for one of my oldest long-term BFFs (Best Friends forever,) and the third…well, started with a C. I love those names.
Crackers…animal, saltine, cheese…
CCR… Yes, Credence Clearwater Revival! My all time favorite. Yesterday we turned on an ancient “boom-box” stereo to see if it worked, and after fiddling for awhile it BLASTED out one of my all-time favorites: Bad Moon Rising!
Cleaning My House…. uh, not even close.
Cats. No list of C-Words would be complete without Cats. But half of my Blogging Buddies will write about Cats…hey, its a natural for a list of Alphabet Words. Yes, I do love Cats, but that is a topic for its own Blog Post (again.)
Canada. California. Connecticut. Chiapas. Calcutta. Catmandu (I know…it might be a K-word. (There must be more places that begin with the C-Word.) Five C-Places, and I’ve only been to the first four. I asked a British soldier who was stationed in Catmandu if it was as exotic as it was cracked-up to be–he said “No, not even close!”
Character/s. I love people with Character. To be more specific I should specify (I Can use the same word in different forms if I want to…) Yes, it’s true that some have Bad Character, or Questionable Character, but most of those that I know are such that I would be willing to become a Character Witness if they ever need one.
So there we have it–my list of C-Words.
Using the B-Word
There are a lot of words that begin with B
and some of them are not appropriate
for a family Blog.
I try to use proper language whenever possible
depending on the Blog-Business at Hand.
But Bad words are not always Bad.
But “Bad Boys” can get in trouble
if Mom hears them whisper Bad Words
to Brides or Beautifully Ball-gowned sisters in processions.
The Brilliant and Best of Bad B-Words
are really not Bad at all…depending
on the context and application.
Bragging is another Blog No-No,
even when Blogging about Bomb-Shell
topics like Boasting about VIP Buddies.
Once I met Walter Mondale in the Bathroom
of a Holiday Inn. The occasion was a
Press conference in which I was in charge.
Bragging can be Buried in By-the-ways,
with skillful use of words. But Becoming astute
at Blowing-one’s-horn can be Bewildering…
By-standers Bombarded with Bookish information
Become Bored …and sometimes Bitter
when unable to Banter without Belligerence.
Who cares if one has an MBA or Bachelor’s
even when Being Bullied By Braggarts…
Because in the long run–it’s all Bologna!
Besides…writing Ballads or other forms in Blogs
is difficult when Better Judgement precludes
the use of the B-Words considered to Be Bad…
or worse yet–classified as Balderdash!
© Sometimes, 2016
A-Z Challenge — THE LETTER A
A’s are always appropo;
Aardvarks and Alligators
As examples of A-Words.
(As Arkansas Alumni,)
And admit apprehension…