laid-back bull

All over the internet in various profiles, on TV in commercials, on billboards, magazines on the radio I hear and see the words "Laid-back." Almost as often I see the words "Easy-going."

Like most things not meant to be thought about, I thought about what the heck those micro-phrases really mean. It seems like everyone wants to be called "laid-back' and "easy-going." As if that's a goal of our society. And if you think about some of the most popular people in school, who were they? The "laid-back, easy-going" types.

So what's it mean? In the most popular sense of the word, I suppose it means that you don't let little things bother you. You roll with the punches, go with the flow, play 'em as they come. (ran our of cliche metaphors there.)

But the more I thought about it, I don't think it's necessarily always a good thing to ALWAYS be laid-back. The REALLY laid-back folks I know are usually just plain lazy. They could care less about the world around them. They have no real opinions, no real back-bone.

Of course, the opposite of that would be hard-headed, stubborn and arrogant. And no one likes that.

I've been known to call myself laid-back and easy-going. And in my public life I usually am.

But in my private world, I'm not always that easy-going.

I like things a certain way. I like my private world to be ordered, organized and logical. I like for the things I do and have to have meaning and reason.

That's one big reason I don't collect knick-knacks. What's the point of a pretty bowl on the table that never has anything in it that you got at Big-Lots? I'd understand if was Venician glass you got on your trip to Italy. But just to buy stuff to have stuff? I don't get that.

When I put things away in my house, I need it to always go back in the same place. I'm a forgetful person, so if I don't always put it back in the same place, I completely forget where it's at.

If I make a mess, I clean it up. And I honestly expect others to do the same. Take care of yourself.

These 'laid-back' 'easy-going' guys who never know how to clean up after themselves, I don't get it. It's a sign of a lack of self-respect if you ask me.

Then again, if you're out in public and you flip out over the tiniest things, that's a bit too much. I have a great deal of patience with other people. I don't get road rage or aisle anger in the store. If I made plans and then something comes up and they have to change, no big deal.

Most of the time, I don't sweat the little things. Step on my toes? No biggee. Bump my knee? Oh well. And usually when I make mistakes or things go wrong, I end up laughing. What else can you do?

But for the love of all things sanitary, don't put your dirty socks on the stove to dry.

i love a parade

Just this week I got an e-mail from a long-lost childhood friend.

It was a bit shocking to say the least.

She lived behind me for a few years when I was 7 or 8. I know I was on treatment for cancer at the time only because she remembered and asked how it all turned out. (been in remission for 18 years... So great!)

She brought up stuff that I had completely forgotten. And I'm really sorry to say that I don't remember much of what we did as kids.

I do remember they had an old chicken coup we used to play in. And at one point, we were at "war" with each other. It was myself and a gaggle of kids across the street, and she and her sister on the other side. The coup was their fortress and a "bush-house" we'd carved outta of my mom's lilacs (sorry mom) was our fort.

But the e-mail started getting me thinking about my childhood and, honestly, how good I had it. Unlike some folks who had traumatic childhoods and bad parents, aside from the cancer thing and a mostly absent father, I had about as idyllic childhood as one could have.

While most kids were into TV and the new Atari (still pre-computers) I was busy with projects.

I CONSTANTLY had something going on. I was constantly outside playing in some form or another.

Here's some highlights:

• As very young child, my mom was a babysitter for a bunch of kids. So I would organize parades around the block with, of course, me as the leader of the band. To this day, I love parades. The more bands, the better. A parade with just bands? Might just wet myself.
• Besides the 'bush-house' we had an alternate club space in a gully just outside of town. It was covered with trees and full of trash the local farmers had dumped in it. The perfect play spot for kids with imaginations.
• I discovered how to get into the town rain sewers. At one point, we walked the entire length of the town through the storm sewers.
• I tried to start my own choir when I was 10. I couldn't understand why no one showed up for the auditions.
• When I was over creating plays, I tried to start a play house. For a while, we used the new play set my dad had built as our set. When I wanted to get more fancy, we moved it into the garage. I built a proscenium that could be lifted into the rafters, my friend Adam and I built a control box with dimmers that we could hook lights up to. Had my stereo with the speakers hanging from the rafters and even had working curtains.
• When I was 12, I started cooking and needed fresh herbs, so I built my own herb garden to supply the meals.
• My red wagon was my favorite toy. We used it as a float in the parades and turned the ditch next to our house into a roller coaster.
• Also tried to start a summer kids club with planned weekly activities. Only my friends could be members.
• Blocks were my second favorite toy. I was constantly building something with them. I liked building them on top of my record player turn table and then when I was done building it, turn it on and let it spin the creation apart.
• We used our bunk beds like a space ship and used to dress in our snow suits as our space suits. The stars on the ceiling added that special effect. When we were launching, we'd have the lights on, and when we got to outter space, we'd turn them off to see the stars.

I was also REALLY good at making money. I loved having money.

As a very little kid, I used to pick flowers from the neighbors yard, then go to their front door and sell them back to them as fresh cut flowers. (mom put the brakes on that one)

So then I made windchimes out of wood and sold them. They didn't go over well.

There were lots of girls in the neighborhood, so I made barbie furniture out of mud. The girls didn't go for it.

On my artistic side, I glued together rocks from the road and painted them and tried to sell them as original art.

But my two best sellers were popcorn and lemonade.

My best friend across the street was a farmer that grew popcorn. So we'd get her dad to give us some and we'd sell it around the neighborhood.

And almost every day during the summer we had lemonade stands. Our best profit came on the day that our neighbor was having and auction. We set up our stand across the yard from where the local church was selling refreshments. We WAY undersold them on the drinks with our $.10 lemonade. We made $27 dollars that day and were miffed when our mom's asked for the cut of the profits since they provided the lemonade. Little did I understand the necessity of suppliers.

And God bless my mom for putting up with all the stuff I did. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have had nearly as good a childhood as I did.

It wasn't a good childhood, it was a great childhood.

drama free dowdiness

I couldn't imagine anyone shooting the Amish. I mean, they're the Amish for christ's sake! Who wants to shoot the Amish? I wish I believed in hell because I'd really like to imagine the man that did that burning there right now.

It's times like this that depress me. Our government is constantly touting the dangers from the enemies around us. Seems like the whole world is out to get us because "they hate our freedom." (yeah, right.) We're told it's in their religion to hate Americans and try to kill us.

But, yet, no one in any level of authority has dared ask the real question, "why do they hate us?"

And now with three school shootings within a week, it's becoming pretty clear that Arab nations aren't the only one's capable of producing terrorists. (or as G.W. would say, "terists.") We seems quite capable of producing home-grown nutsos right here in the good ol' U.S. of A.

Once again, I haven't heard anyone ask, "what the hell are we doing wrong as a nation to produce these kinds of people?"

Could it possibly be that our own government is saying it's OK to kill those you don't like? Is it possible they the government condones, even encourages derisiveness among people?

Though it's commonplace to lay blame on the easiest targets, (our schools) schools don't have nearly the impact that the real-world has on kids.

In schools, it's NOT ok to bully or pick on kids.

In the real world, it happens every day. Our own representatives and senators do it every day.

In schools, diversity and tolerance are seen as a good thing.

In the real world, "diversity and tolerance" is code for "they wanna take our jobs and turn our kids gay!"

In schools, kids are taught to work through and compromise their issues.

In the real world, you "gotta stick to yer guns."

"Stick to yer guns..." The irony is palpable.

For everything we do in the schools, there is something in the outside world that fights what we teach.

It hit home last week with the Amish shooting. Just that day I had reminded my students that "this is a safe place. No one is going to laugh at you, or make fun of you in here. You can be yourself in my classroom."

But it's not a safe place. And the places they go home to are not safe. And no "war on terrorism" is going to change that.

We shouldn't be scared of the the Arabs who hate us. We should be scared of what is going to become of our own kids. We should be scared that our own country is producing and encouraging hate.

We should be scared that nothing is going to change.