Barbara’s
Birthday What Not To Wear
My wife's birthday occurs with predictable
regularity, just like everyone else's birthday. One might think that having
an entire year to prepare for the next birthday would serve to ones advantage.
When it comes to my wife's birthday, I'm not so sure. This year, with just
a couple of weeks until Barbara's birthday, I was no better prepared to decide
on a gift than I was months earlier.
As I recall, I was in my computer room when Barbara stuck her head in the
door to announce the phone call she answered minutes earlier was for me.
"Daddy, have you thought about what you're going to get Mama for her birthday?"
my daughter inquired. "This one’s a big one, so she’s expecting
something big."
Though I had thought about several things, none of which seemed affordable,
I simply replied, "Rayanne, for the past month I've been about as stressed
out over work as I've ever been. I need to try to find something for your
mother, but I’ve been staying out a lot lately, and I can't find the
time to look when I'm at home. When I'm not at work, I'm either trying to
get a newsletter finished, or I'm working in the yard. The fish fry is next
month, and I've got a lot to get done before then."
"I know that, Daddy," she responded. "But, I've been talking to Aunt Sara
Sue. You know how Mama loves that TV show, What Not To Wear? Well,
she mentioned she wanted to be on that show and she wants me to turn in her
name."
"Like, as many times as she's watched that program and she doesn't know how
to pick out a new wardrobe? Surely, she's learned that by now," I stated
in exasperation.
"Okay, okay. I understand what you're saying." Rayanne continued. "But, Sara
Sue and I want to do What Not To Wear on a small scale. We're going
to pick out a couple of new outfits for her and get her an appointment with
Tammy for a complete makeover both hair and makeup. We'll let her choose
which outfit she likes from the two or three that we'll pick out in advance,
and we'll tell her that she has to give Tammy a free rein. Then, we’ll
bring her home to show her off to friends and family and have a brunch for
everyone. What do you think?"
For me, it was a godsend, an answered prayer that had not been voiced, a
weight lifted off my shoulders, a…well, that should suffice for my point.
"I like that idea," I responded.
"Good, you can help pay for everything, and if Jason wants in, he can help
pay, too."
Once Rayanne had my okay, she was like a ball of fire, making appointments,
preparing lists of folks to invite to the party and foods to serve, and
delegating tasks to Sarah and me. The birthday surprise was but one of several
events that would involve my family for Mothers Day weekend and tackling
all of them involved some strategic timing. For example, Rayanne calculated
she needed to have Barbara at the beauty shop by 7:30 in order to be back
at home for the 10:00 a.m. party. Then we would need to leave by 12:30 p.m.
in order to get to the 2:00 p.m. graduation exercises at Ole Miss, and since
our family planned to attend the piano program at 7:00 Saturday night, there
was little room for error in the planning. Sunday was only mildly less stressful,
as it was Mothers Day, and we planned to attend Baccalaureate services for
our oldest granddaughter, Anna, at her church.
Sarah ran into a problem with finding a new outfit for Barbara for the business
owner didn’t want to release any clothes on approval. Thus, Sarah picked
out something she thought Barbara would like and purchased it.
After dinner on Friday night, Rayanne brought Barbara into the living room
to share some of the party plans with her. I was seated, Rayanne was seated,
but Barbara was still standing when I suggested she might want to sit down.
Knowing something was up, but unsure of why Rayanne had called her into the
living and alarmed that I insisted on her being seated for whatever it was
she was about to hear, Barbara furrowed her brow and asked Rayanne, "You’re
not pregnant are you?"
"No, Mother," Rayanne insisted as soon as our impulsive laughter subsided.
Rayanne revealed that since Barbara wanted to be on "What Not To Wear," something
we were not able to make happen for her, we had instead decided on a scaled
down version of the program.
"I’ve got you an appointment tomorrow morning with Tammy for a new hairstyle
and a makeover. Sara Sue’s found a new outfit for you that you’ll
wear home from the beauty shop, and then we’ll show you off to the family,
just like on "What Not To Wear."
Hoping to keep part of the plans a secret, Rayanne didn’t mention the
surprise birthday brunch.
The next morning, by a minor miracle, Barbara and Rayanne departed on time
for the beauty shop. Also, by a minor miracle, Barbara didn’t think
it was odd that Sarah was loading something into her car as they passed by
Sarah’s house. Normally, Sarah would either be at work before seven-thirty
or else fast asleep in bed. I suppose Barbara was too excited about the makeover
to cipher Sarah’s reasons for being outside so early.
Sarah was soon at my door with armloads of party supplies and foods. Well
before 10:00, the brunch was ready, and most of our guests had arrived. At
ten o’clock, Rayanne called to say that Barbara was almost ready. She
called ten minutes later to tell us the same thing, again. Our guests understood,
as the mostly female crowd was familiar with beauty-shop time. Finally, Barbara
arrived about twenty minutes later than we had planned. She was completely
surprised to see everyone.
Later, Barbara explained that Rayanne noted the large number of cars parked
in the circle across from our house and even stated, "I hope that crowd of
folks isn’t at our house." Barbara said she didn’t recognize any
of the vehicles and assumed one of our neighbors had something happening.
Sarah and Rayanne had plenty of food, and it was all delicious. Barbara received
numerous compliments on her outfit and for Tammy’s beautification efforts.
Katherine enjoyed helping Barbara open her presents, and I enjoyed making
pictures of folks enjoying themselves. This year, my role in making my
wife’s birthday a success was somewhat limited, thanks to Rayanne and
Sarah. But, in one sense we’re about even; they loved what they contributed,
and I loved what I contributed.
Graduation 2006
Felicia Receives Her M.A.
Last spring, my niece, Felicia Brown, received her B.A. degree in Elementary
Education from that which is arguably Mississippi’s most prestigious
institution of higher learning, namely, The University of Mississippi or
more simply, Ole Miss. At the commencement exercises this year, Felicia was
conferred a Master’s degree in Elementary Education, even though she
doesn’t officially graduate until this summer. Therefore, since Felicia
doesn’t possess an actual diploma, I would classify her and others in
her situation as unofficial graduates. I’m not at all keen on the idea
of unofficial graduates, but it happens every year, and since it is sanctioned
by the University, it must be okay. I’ve not researched when this sort
of nonsense began, but surely it was something a Baby Boomer conceived.
Having found our way to the Indoor Practice field of the Athletic Department,
last year, it was easier to locate the facility this year, due in part to
a bit of exploratory driving that allowed us to park much closer than last
year. Last year, Barbara and I drove to the Ole Miss campus, found the facility,
and there we rendezvoused with Sarah, Brett and Kathy. This year, Rayanne
and Sarah rode with us. Once inside the athletic facility, we were joined
by Felicia’s friend, Cullen Pollard.
Last year, rain fell just as morning services in the grove began and washed
out the principal speaker while drenching those in attendance. Yet, officials
kept to their graduation timetable. This year, rain fell and exercises were
pushed back an hour, which for us meant we arrived one hour and forty-five
minutes early instead of just forty-five minutes early. Sitting in one spot
for that long, waiting for a ceremony to begin, taxes ones physical and mental
endurance. I managed to pass the time people-watching and making wise cracks
to my spouse.
The actual program moved along at a quick pace, with speakers being brief,
and the same was noted for the recognitions and awards portions of the ceremony.
I was disappointed that the solemnity of the occasion was no better observed
this year than last year. Even though the audience was asked at the beginning
of the program to withhold all forms of approval (whistles, yells, or clapping)
in order to provide family members the opportunity to hear the name called
of the graduate they were supporting, there were enough rednecks and ill-mannered
individuals on hand to negate the reserved and refined demeanor of those
of us who refrained from disrupting the ceremony.
After the ceremony, families and friends gathered in small groups and took
pictures of their graduate or graduates to commemorate the occasion. We were
no different (see picture this article).
We might have gotten home sooner but using dead reckoning to navigate a more
direct route back to where we parked didn’t save us any steps. And,
we didn’t make up any time waiting on Sarah, whose high heels had her
feet hurting, nor did it help that Rayanne had us stop at a Sonic restaurant
on the way out of town for her something to eat and drink. Though I complained
at the time, I knew Rayanne needed to keep her energy level up for the piano
program in which she would participate later that evening. If you missed
that article, see last week’s newsletter,
As best I remember, we got back to Pontotoc around five o’clock, but
the long day was far from over.
Tony’s
Invitation Fishing Plans
The piano program was scheduled for seven, but since Rayanne needed to be
there early, the folks at my house were furiously trying to get ready to
leave before six-thirty. I walked outside to wait on everyone and being somewhat
tired from the events of the day, sat quietly in my car with the windows
rolled down. A car pulled into my driveway and parked directly behind me.
I didn’t recognize the car, but the person who got out of the car was
none other than Tony Austin.
Tony was wearing his fishing waders and had obviously been fishing. He walked
right by me without noticing I was in the car. I thought of pretending to
be a dog and barking at him, like Hyacinth’s sister’s dog barks
at her on the British comedy, Keeping Up Appearances, but I simply
spoke to my friend. I think he was slightly startled; at least he looked
startled when he turned and saw me in the car.
Of course, he was interested in whether I had chanced a fishing trip with
the fly fishing equipment he had provided a few weeks earlier. Tony explained
he was in Pontotoc to help his sister get their mother’s house fixed
up in order to put it on the market for sale.
"I’ll be here through Monday," Tony shared. "When can you and I go fishing?
We could go to Miss Eaton’s where we fished a lot in our youth. I caught
about thirty bream there this afternoon on wooly-boogers. I think you have
some of those among the flies I sent you."
I had no idea what a wooly-booger looked like, but I quickly calculated the
only time I could go fishing while Tony was around would have to be Sunday
afternoon.
"Well, I’ve got to attend a Baccalaureate service for my granddaughter
Sunday morning, but I could go with you tomorrow afternoon."
"Good," Tony replied, "Say about two o’clock?"
"That’ll work," I said.
"Then, I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Maybe, we can get in a couple
of hours fishing."
Fishing on Sunday was frowned upon in my family all the days of my youth,
and throughout my life I’ve pretty much limited my fishing time to weekdays.
However, as Tony and I have limited opportunities to spend time together,
I chose to set aside the restrictions of family tradition.
To be continued…
Jason’s Joy
Proud Parents Are We
As a teacher in the sixties, I witnessed firsthand the stress that many parents
placed on their children by demanding of them excellence in the classroom.
I never bought into the perception that a child can do anything he or she
wants to do, as I observed that all children are not equally gifted, and
no matter how much one tries or how much parental pressure for success is
invoked individuals are limited by whatever capacity for learning was granted
them at conception.
Yes, it’s more complicated than I make it sound, but I stand by my
assertion. In fact, I swore an oath to myself that I would never stand over
either of my children and make them do homework or push them to excel. Therefore,
other than whatever intellectual capacity for learning they inherited, what
they did or didn’t do in school was in their hands and they own their
respective successes and failures.
I don’t know the IQ of either of my children, though I suspect they
are about the same. However, by hard work and study, Rayanne excelled. Jason
chose an easier route of trying to absorb an education by experiencing the
classroom, which did not work as well for him as studying did for Rayanne.
Jason dropped out of college after two unsuccessful years and entered the
workforce. After more than ten years of collegiate absence, he returned two
years ago and has applied himself with greater vigor than before. His mother
and I are proud of his progress and share his joy that for the first time
in his college work his grade point average qualified him to be named to
the Dean’s list, a standing that requires a GPA of 3.5 out of a possible
4.0. Congratulations, Son!
Bodock Beau
Immigration Humor
One of the best illegal immigration quips I’ve read that did not come
from a professional comedian reads:
"Mexico threatened to sue the U.S. government if the National Guard apprehends
any illegal aliens who cross the border. The threat must be feared and respected.
Mexico has biological weapons that come right out of the kitchen faucet."
Argus Hamilton
Jay Leno: The Pentagon announced that Iraq's border is now 90% under
control, which is pretty impressive when you realize that San Diego's border
is only 20% under control.
President Bush went to the border in Arizona. White House Spokesman Tony
Snow said it was not a photo opportunity. Apparently Bush was just looking
for some guys to do some landscaping around the White House.
The Senate voted 63-34 to make English the official language of the United
States. They say it's a largely symbolic amendment with no real effect. You
know like the congressional ethics bill.
When asked if they approve of the resolution, 75% of the people in Los Angeles
said, "Si."
A realtor in Ogden, Utah inspecting a townhouse found 70,000 empty beer cans
left behind by the former tenant. I didn't know the Kennedy's had a place
in Utah.
Here's a shocking statistic—One in 136 Americans are currently behind
bars. A more shocking statistic, one in three Kennedys are currently in a
bar.
Pat Robertson said this week that God told him that possibly a tsunami could
hit the Pacific Northwest this year. I don't want to be disrespectful, but
possibly? Like God's thinking "60/40." Pat, that wasn't God. You fell asleep
in front of the Weather Channel.
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