Dogs Just Know

I take Kaley, our son’s fifty-pound mixed-breed dog, to the park each morning after everyone else leaves the house.  She knows the pattern. Her excitement builds as I gather the leash, the Frisbee, the poop bags, all of the accoutrements required for walking a dog in the neighborhood. Her tail wags at a blurring speed as she paces before me. She offers her best doggy smile while impatiently waiting at the door.

If, for some reason, we don’t go at the designated time, (sometimes it’s difficult, due to my arthritis/tendonitis flare-ups) she walks to the closet where most of the things are stored, and gives a small whine. “Later,” I tell her. She drops her head and shuffles to the dog bed near the table, staring at me with forlorn eyes.

After a few minutes of that, she’ll come over, nudge my leg, and prance to the door, as if I’d forgotten to do something. “Later,” I tell her again. Once again, she drops her head and shuffles to her bed. I swear, the animal pouts. When I get up, she runs around my feet, hoping the time had come. This will go on until my medicine kicks in and I can take her to the park.

Today, she surprised me.

The arthritic pain in both of my wrists had been building for the last several months. Yesterday afternoon, I went to my doctor and received cortisone shots in each. I’ll tell you, if you’ve been blessed to never have one, it is painful.

This morning, I can barely lift my coffee mug. There was no way I’d be able to hold back a fifty-pound dog with a leash if she chose to bolt. However, I hated the thought of having to scold her for getting under my feet because I hadn’t taken her for our walk.

My husband left for work. Kaley began to prance. My heart ached. I bent over to pet her. She jerked her head back as if startled. Her cold nose pressed against my right wrist. She inhaled deeply. Then she sniffed rapidly up my arm as far as she could reach.

Then, she looked at me, and I swear, there was sympathy in that expression. She rubbed her head against my leg, went to her dog bed, stretched out, and closed her eyes.

Kaley knows I can’t take her for a walk today.

Two hours later she has still not employed her usual practice of “reminding” me of our missed walk.

Dogs just know.

Common Sense Deficiency

True Story...

I just saw a guy standing on a corner of a major highway intersection. Smoking a cigarette. Carrying a gas can.

I literally laughed out loud. That is, once I got out of the potential blast radius.

"Ya can't fix stupid."

Snow

Yeah, I'm a Floridian. I just went to the beach yesterday.

You can throw this back in my face when the hurricanes come through, bust out our power, tosses some cars and trees around, and flood us out.

I know. Karma's a bitch...still, this was funny.

Hate spreads

Every cause has its lunacy. Abortion, Religion, Politics, Immigration, Same-Sex Marriage; the list could go on and on. In every impassioned debate, you'll find someone willing to “line them all up and shoot them”. That haters hide themselves behind the bible, their guns, the flag, or whatever icon they feel represents their cause, doesn't change the fact they hate, and are looking for a target.

The only thing these haters want is someone to argue with, an opportunity to spew their anti-(fill-in-the-blank) rhetoric. Don’t engage these people. Don’t debate these people. Your measured words and intelligent, reasoned argument would change nothing. If anything, you’ll find yourself being drawn too near their hatred, and finding hatred within yourself.

And they will have found the target they were looking for.

What can you do? Disarm them. When their rant begins, grow silent. School your face to reveal nothing but compassion. Then change the subject.

If you’re still not able to get away from their hatred, gather yourself to walk away, look them in the eye, and say, “I’ll pray for you.” Then remove that hatred from your life. The absence will be a blessing beyond compare.

To be a Gentleman

A conversation with a friend prompted me to consider the definition of “Gentleman” in today’s society.

The original topic centered on the “Southern Gentleman”. The subject had been lambasted, as all things Southern are these days. I should mention my friend was a gentleman from the breadbasket section of the country, whereas I represent the female gender from the south.

The first point made by my friend is that the southern man is perceived as ill-mannered and uncouth, holding little to no respect for the fairer sex. He offered his personal experience with a few southern men as examples. I countered the type of behavior he described could be found in the north, south, east, and west. Those were not gentlemen.

I would like to offer my definition of a true gentleman in modern times.

Gentlemen, no matter their locale, are well mannered, up to and including holding the door open for a person (male or female) behind them. He measures his words for the impact they might have. Considerate of those around him, he will hold his tongue rather than offer direct insult. There are occasions when an irrational person might goad a biting response from a gentleman, but at that point, the offending party deserves what comes next.

A lady, by this definition’s extent, is a complementary counterpart to the gentleman. Socially pleasant and charming to the friends and associates of her gentleman, she would be mortified to cause a scene in a public place. Any and all unpleasantness would be held for the private moment.

A gentleman would never raise his voice to a lady, most especially in a public place. What he says behind closed doors, among compatriots in private, is his business, and another gentleperson would never repeat what might or might not have been said.

On a final point, a gentleman would never refer to himself as such. It would be pretentious and shallow.

How do I know of what I speak? Because I have the honor and privilege of being married to a true gentleman. His parents’ fortunes were less than stellar, but they taught him how to behave and how to treat one's fellow man. He was born in Miami, Florida, marking him Southern Gentleman. His parents were Cuban. Even with the stereotypical Latin Blood, he is the epitome of a Gentleman, by every word of the above description.

He saves his passionate heritage for me, in private. I am one blessed, lucky, ecstatic, satisfied woman. Can your partners say the same?

Once Upon A Time in Orlando

Once Upon A Time in Orlando

Back in the 90's, a columnist wrote for the Orlando Sentinel by the name of Bob Morris. This man moved on to bigger and better things but while here organized an annual parade, which he dubbed the Queen Kumquat Sashay. He made this a parade for folks who couldn't get into any other parade.

I'll wait while you process the picture in your imaginations.

The Queen Kumquat Sashay went on to become an annual event. The parade started at 4:41pm on any given Saturday that Mr. Morris might pick through the year. Some of the “floats” were hilarious. For instance, a group of women braided their hair together to support a Styrofoam rendition of an actual ice cream float. You had to see the thing to believe the size.

An assembly of men ran the parade route wearing business suits and carrying brief cases. They chased another man wearing a cardboard rendition of an ambulance.

Another group walked the route with nonchalance in their step, wearing everyday street clothes. You had to be directly in front to read the chosen name of their group. (Are you ready?) In black magic marker was written, "Just Some Guys" (snicker).

The parade became so popular the powers that be wanted to offer a follow up to keep everyone downtown and spending. So one year, “Light Up Orlando” began after the end of the parade. A large swath of downtown streets closed to all but foot traffic, and the evening became a family night out to see the lights while various bands set up and entertained on the avenues. What a great time.

But, all good things must come to come to an end. One of the City Councilmen (who shall remain nameless) managed to get the rest of the board to vote in favor of alcohol sales at kiosks during the festivities.

The following year, being pushed and shoved by the crowd, I stepped off the walkway and observed an inebriated young man stumble toward me. He hit his knees, and emptied the contents of his stomach at my feet. Suffice it to say, I did not return.

Within five years Light Up Orlando shut down, along with the Queen Kumquat Sashay, due to the public intoxication of the participants and the subsequent crime spree. The disappointment reigned in most of the citizenry of O-town. And whom could we blame? Bob Morris? The Sashay? The powers that be? The alcohol vendors? All of the above? None of the above? We were all having a great time at the parade. Afterward, adults and children alike enjoyed a night of food, fun, and music. Then, all of it was taken away by jerks who wanted more.

Here’s the way I see the moral of the story…

Learn to recognize the fine line between bounty and excess.

You may lose the one for employing the other.

Martin Luther King's 85th Birthday

Today would have marked Martin Luther King's 85th Birthday.

Allow me to share one of my favorite quotes from the good doctor - - -

"Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity."

After reading this I can't help but wonder; what would he have to say about social media sites (and their posted comments) today?