Just Like TS

As I sit here this evening listening to 60 Minutes doing a story on Taylor S_ _ _ _ _ I grit my teeth. I can't believe people think she is a great song writer --- or singer, no less. From the first time I heard her I could not stand that sound -- her music and her singing. The accompaniment for all of her songs sounds just alike, the melody line always sounds just like the last one she sang. And then there are the words--- supposedly she sings about everyday happenings. Well, who wants to hear about her doings??????????? Only some screaming teenagers, I suppose.

Let's see, maybe I could write a song like Taylor. " I am sittin in the floor, cleanin out the closet, found some old clothes, think I will give them awwwwwaaaaay on tomorrow if tomorrow ever comes." Sounds pretty good -- now let me put it to one of those same ole, same ole melodies of Taylor's.

Now I must stop dissing this girl and give her some credit. It is said that she lives a clean wholesome life and is a great role model for young girls. If this is so, she indeed
deserves this credit in a world where many entertainers are certainly less than clean and wholesome.

I expect no one to agree with me -- probably a good thing!!. These are just the thoughts of an old, old woman who appreciates a more melodic flowing musical sound.

Incidentally, earlier in this same 60 Minutes broadcast they featured a friar monk with a fabulous voice who is preparing to make an album. Interestingly, he can earn no money because of the vows he has taken with his priesthood, thus all proceeds from the recordings will go to charity.

All of these thoughts written by an individual who gave up on this blog and writing several weeks ago. Duh!!!!!

I Called Him Daddy

I thought I really had a tremendous case of writer's block but then I realized that Sunday is Father's Day. I need to write about my Dad to remind myself of how incredibly grateful I am to be his daughter. First, I owe him tremendous thanks just for choosing to be my Dad.

My Dad, like all other earthly Fathers, was less than perfect. He had his faults but blood run pretty thick, you know. We want no one else to know our fathers have any faults. When we are teenagers we sometimes disagree (with them) when their judgment and our choices do not match. As we grow older we may realize their weaknesses but our tolerance grows greatly and we instinctively become protective of our parents. Tolerance as in, perhaps, their political opinions or the sports teams they favor. Protective as when they grow older, are sick, or even may be widowed. (At least, I found that to be true.) I think my Father mellowed a lot with age.

My Dad was a really hard worker. He did not mind getting up early and toiling through the day on difficult tasks, and in doing this day after day. He was extremely neat and very organized whether it was his tools or his clothing. It was just the way he was and the way he preferred to operate.

He was a truly honest man. When I think of my Dad, that is the first character trait that pops into my mind--honesty. He was extremely responsible and dependable. He taught these values by example. He modeled them each and every day of our lives. As his children we have no excuse but to be the same if we learned by example.

My Dad was a mathematician. I am sorry to say that I do not think any of his living children inherited this trait. Sometimes he lacked the patience, although he could be a patient man, to put up with my inadequacies when trying to help me with Math. Upper level Math is not my strength. I could never be a statistician!!

Daddy was not much of a talker. Often he would not offer advice or even his thoughts unless asked. If you asked him, he might tell you what he thought but he wasn't much at nosing in anyone's affairs. Sometimes he just had nothing to say about a situation so he didn't talk. On the other hand, he could talk a big bunch about baseball!!
He liked to spend his evenings tuned in to a ball game until the bitter end. He liked all sports and watched all of them. However, baseball was his favorite.
My Dad was not a UNC basketball fan. I think that had its roots in Dean Smith's era of holding the ball rather than keeping it in play to win a ball game. Daddy despised that Carolina "slow-down ball!"

From my Dad I inherited my love of reading the daily newspaper. My Daddy and Mother would read the newspaper and discuss so much of its contents almost daily -- even the editorials. I developed that same habit. Ken and I both were newspaper readers and we frequently discussed the happenings, words and thoughts --- just like our parents.

My Father was the ultimate gentleman. Today's kids wouldn't know what to think as he would (always) rise to his feet when a lady entered the room, would yield his seat, or remove his hat when entering a building, just to name a few. He had been taught those courtesies at an early age and they followed him all of his life.

These are but a very few of the memories I have of the man I call Daddy as I remember him on this Father's Day 2012. My Dad died a few weeks short of his eighty-second birthday. He really wasn't ready to go and as he told a neighbor he didn't want to leave his family. One January day, after some months of decline, his heart just wore out and quit in spite of that little pacemaker he had.
I Love my Daddy.

Could This Be "The End"

I haven't written anything on this blog for at least a month. I never expected to have writer's block but I think I have a very serious case. Just do not seem to have a thing on my mind worth expressing through the written word.

Perhaps I am just tired or perhaps my brain has taken a "leave of absence" a condition of which some might believe I have always been afflicted!!

So....until I feel so inspired.....my last entry has been written.

But then again.....I might feel inspired tomorrow. Who knows???