I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Personal

  • We Are F-A-M-I-L-Y?


    I wonder. If we are truly “family” then we are like many families – highly dysfunctional.

    The older I get the less I value the opinions other people have of me including my height and weight, my politics, my white hair, my house with the Tara columns, my old truck and car, my dog that jumps the fence on a regular basis which annoys me so I know it must annoy my neighbors, my sexual orientation, my “falling away” from the church, my obsession with the tennis majors and sports in general…so if you don’t like any of these traits, perceived foibles or inherited genetics well, to quote Rhett Butler, frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. At seventy years of age I’m not hopeful for makeovers in any of these areas.

    Family, on the other hand, is a core value with me. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family, can you? My family is what I started with, and my family will be what I end up with – if I have anything to say on the subject. So whatever attack you have up your sleeve, please don’t disrespect my family. I know I have cousins who aren’t what we hoped they’d be, but they’re my cousins after all and perhaps I’m not what they hoped I’d be, either. But hey, don’t disrespect my cousins in front of me.

    The same feelings go with my country. I don’t know how I was fortunate enough to be born in the United States, but I was and am proud of it. Being an American is another core value for me – democracy is a fundamental principle that I cherish and every year or two or four I watch as the election process unfolds and shake my head or nod it at the conclusion of the campaign seasons when the results are announced. That’s that until the next time. Case closed. You win some. You lose some.

    Here’s the thing. Don’t disrespect democracy – not in front of me, not now, not ever. Don’t sneer at what makes our country great right this minute – free elections with a smooth transition of power. Is the process absolutely 100% guaranteed to not have any flaws at all? Not a chance. But is the process and outcome a cornerstone of our family values as a free nation? You better believe it.

    Some of us were born into the American family, some of us made a conscious choice to join our American family – but ALL of us believe that we wake up every morning in a free country where no one is about to form a military coup to pick our next President, don’t we?

    So we are a dysfunctional family these days and this election season has been “nasty.” But make no mistake – our f-a-m-i-l-y is what we honor as Americans – it’s what we will vote to protect, preserve and defend on November 08th.

    Seriously.

    003

  • Doubling Down on Debates, Dems, Demagogues, Divisiveness and Depression: I VOTED


    001

    The most recent polling of my personal state of mind reveals a slight shift from 52% Negative and 48% Positive to 52% Positive and 48% Negative. Jeopardy host Alex Trebek asks what are readily identifiable factors that have led to this impressive 4-point swing? The answer is the Daily Double, or the Daily Doubling Down: I voted. My depression is slightly improved without an increase in my anti-depressant medication.

    I feel like a great burden has been lifted from my scrambled brain that has been trying for the past two years to sift facts from fiction at debates in the bruising endless primaries and now bipartisan presidential debates. Is it my imagination or are the debates really longer with just two candidates onstage than they were with a gazillion candidates vying for attention. Whatever. For the most part, the candidates have been unresponsive to the moderators’ questions, and the moderators have been unresponsive to their unresponsiveness. The single most consistent feeling I have after I watch a debate is that I would have been a better moderator. I’m just saying.

    But guess what?

    What?

    I don’t even need to watch the final debate tomorrow because I already voted. Yep. One of the perks of being older than dirt is the right to vote absentee and I jumped all over that yesterday. Me and my 1.5 million early voting friends, that is.

    002

    Today’s buzz words for the campaigns according to the political talking heads are Doubling Down. Whatever a candidate advocates that will solidify her/his voter base (those voters who will vote for you regardless of any mention of sex, lies, emails or videotapes), now is the time to pull out all the stops, say whatever motivates your base the most and make sure your peeps vote. For example, comment on the “rigged system” of voting in general. This is Doubling Down – a populist candidate appealing to supporters who already feel like political outsiders – by attempting to suggest the voting process itself is fundamentally flawed. Oops – flawed unless you win, of course.

    I pity the Undecideds because they will, no doubt, be watching tomorrow night’s debates with the same “wishy- washyness” they’ve been watching all of the previous ones. They’ll still be hanging onto the sounds and images of every political TV commercial between now and November 08th. hoping and praying for that moment of inspiration, that pearl of wisdom which will finally push them into someone’s camp. But not me. I already voted. I can mute those suckers and the divisiveness they perpetrate.

    003

    No really, seriously. I voted.

     

  • PTDS – Is There Any Cure?


    I called my doctor this morning after a sleepless night and gave him my symptoms.

    “Doctor, Doctor, I woke up this morning and wasn’t able to get out of  bed – I pulled the covers up over my head as high as I could and then felt paralyzed from my head to my toes. I tried to think of my mantra but couldn’t remember it so I just lay there – unable to even reach for my iPad to play Words with Friends or Yushino. I’m telling you – I had so much anxiety I couldn’t even tell Pretty good morning or give my poor dogs their breakfast. It was like I was trapped in some kind of nightmare.”

    “Hm. I see. Can you describe the nightmare? Was there a monster after you?”

    “Yes! That’s exactly how I felt – like there was a monster after me!”

    “Hm. I see. Can you describe the monster?”

    “Well, let me think. I think it was an overweight orange man with yellow hair – yes, an overweight orange man with yellow hair – and I couldn’t get away from him. Everywhere I turned, there he was right behind me. I felt like he was stalking me – he kept shouting and pointing his finger at me. I think he said he wanted to put me in jail or something like that. It was terrible, terrible. I’ve never been so afraid in any of my worst nightmares.”

    “Hm. I see. And by any chance, did this overweight orange man with yellow hair do a lot of wheezing?”

    “Yes! He did…every time he got close to me I could hear him make this odd sniffing sound. But how did you know that?”

    “Well, my dear, I have to say it’s the strangest phenomenon for a Monday morning I believe I’ve ever seen in my forty years of practicing medicine. You are the fifth woman to call me today with these same symptoms. Extraordinary, you might want to say.”

    “Oh, my goodness. Have you been able to make a diagnosis for us? Do you have a medicine that will help us?”

    “I have Good News and Bad News. The good news is I have been able to diagnose what you all have. You clearly are suffering from Post Traumatic Debate Stress or PTDS after watching the most recent 2016 Presidential Debate last night.”

    “OMG, not PTDS – that’s the Good News? I’m afraid to hear the Bad News.”

    “The Bad News is it is incurable in the short-term. However, I can promise you it will get better after November 08th. if you live that long. So hang in there, and my prescription is to stay away from your TV on October 19th…before, during and after the next debate.”

    Which is what I plan to do.

    P.S. Happy Thanksgiving Day to my Canadian friends – be thankful for your blessings which include not being in the middle of a bitterly divisive election campaign that might spoil your appetites.

  • Transformers That Go BOOM in the Night!


    Howling winds that blew buckets and buckets of rain all night were the demons that kept Pretty and me awake with jangling nerves as Hurricane Matthew pushed up the South Carolina coast to finally make land in the little fishing town of  McClellanville at some point this morning. McClellanville is between Charleston and Myrtle Beach and was devastated by Hurricane Hugo in 1989. It’s just 150 miles south of Casa de Canterbury and Matthew let us know how far he could reach with his power and fury beginning late yesterday afternoon as he whipped up the atmosphere around us before ending a little while ago with a whimper of light breezes and drizzle. Adios, Matthew. Good-bye. Good riddance.

    This was our conversation every hour on the hour while the hurricane winds and rain beat against our bedroom window panes on the second floor.

    Me: “I think we need to go down to the first floor and spend the night in the living room.”

    Pretty: “Let’s wait a little while and see how it goes.”

    Me: “I can see the trees moving in the shadows on the blinds, and I’m worried one of them might fall on our heads.”

    Pretty: “Yes, I’m worried about that, too. Let me check Facebook to see what everyone else is doing.”

    Me: “In the middle of the night during a hurricane you’re checking Facebook?”

    Pretty:  “Yes. I want to know how my friends are doing.”

    Me: “Your friends are sound asleep in the living rooms on the first floor of their houses.”

    Pretty: Silence. She closes her computer and pretends to sleep. I shut up.

    At four o’clock a transformer in our neighborhood went out with a Loud BOOM that shook our house. Pretty and I sat up straight and I muttered obscenities while Pretty reached down to comfort Spike who started to shake. Charly jumped up from her place at the bottom of the bed and flew to get between Pretty and me. We were all undone and waited for something terrible to happen.

    Miraculously the ceiling fan continued its pattern of movement and my electric digital clock kept on ticking. The winds and downpour were still swirling around us, but we remained relatively unscathed on the second floor of Casa de Canterbury.

    002

    The Orlando flag survived – but several big limbs didn’t

    003

    Dent Middle School not far from our house

    was a temporary shelter for low country evacuees

    We understand that we were very lucky to have minimal problems when so many across our state and our sister states along the southeastern Atlantic coastline suffered severe losses of property and lives. For that, Pretty and I are grateful. We talked the past few days about the people of Haiti and the plight they have in the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew. Unimaginable devastation. Ongoing horrors and nightmares.

    Pretty is happily back on Facebook in the light of day and told me about the neatest post on Usain Bolt, the Olympian runner, who has donated $10 million dollars to the Haiti rebuilding efforts. That made me truly happy. May it all end up in the hands that need it most.

    Thank you to everyone who has been concerned about Casa de Canterbury and its family during Hurricane Matthew. The comments, prayers and well wishes have been wonderful and very much appreciated by Pretty, Charly, Spike and me.

    We’re still standing.

  • Matthew Moves Our Way – Casa de Canterbury Hunkers Down


    My, oh, my. Hurricane Matthew has brought just enough moisture to our back yard to ensure our little dog Charly  refuses to step outside. Barely a drizzle. A wisp of a breeze. But Charly has stood several times at the kitchen door we left open wide for her today, lifted her head for a sniff of the air pressure, turned around and returned to her place on the sofa to watch the TV for more news on Matthew’s path which is apparently to get closest to land in Charleston, South Carolina during the night tonight. The little dog clearly knows Casa de Canterbury is only a hop, skip and jump away from Charleston and obviously has a lot of free-floating anxiety, as do the rest of us.

    Thanks to our good friend Ann in Pennsylvania for the portable charger idea yesterday. We went right out to the Office Depot and bought one this morning, and I am delighted  to report there are picture illustrations of how to use it since the font of the instructional brochure is Thumbelina size and impossible for my eyes to decipher.

    Speaking of eyes, Pretty took me to a new eye doctor today because my regular eye doctor referred me to someone else for a possible surgery to re-attach a muscle in each eye that holds up my eyelids and has separated from its proper place due to guess what? Old age. Another hit for the home team known as Sheila’s Senior Fall – Aparts; the hits just keep on coming. Now drooping eyelids…hm…so many drooping body parts.

    The good news is Medicare will cover the procedure – the bad news is the surgery has the potential to activate the sleeping shingles nerve in my right eye and that would be a huge nightmare so now to do or not to do the surgery is the question. Sigh. Time to consult the old crystal ball if we can find it.

    Thanks also to my cousin Anne in Texas for the advice on the rocking chairs on the front porch. I have taken precautions and battened down those hatches to keep them safe. I have one Mounds bar remaining and am fighting the impulse to risk another run to the CVS drug store for the Buy One – Get the Second One for – a – Quarter Sale. The rockers should be safe, but the candy supply is already iffy.

    OMG, we came home to this sight at our neighbor’s house this afternoon.

    002

    The little girl who lives next door turns eight today and is having a birthday party. Lots of little girls in dresses being brave and ignoring Hurricane Matthew. Charly should take a lesson from them.

    Pretty continues the battle with her knee recovery regardless of Hurricane Matthew’s path. The City of Columbia continued trash collection today. The US Postal Service delivered the usual bills to Casa de Canterbury, and Spike sounded the alarm that the Evil Postman had arrived this afternoon. The South Carolina Electric and Gas spokesman advised that extra crews are on the way to help our state with restoring power that may be lost. The Governor called out the National Guard, the President declared we are a national disaster waiting to happen, and I am about to eat the one remaining Mounds candy bar. That about sums it up, don’t you think?

    Stay tuned.