Which Reminds Me

While I was living in Virginia I remember that Katherine or someone was working at Americans for Robertson. One day someone called me from there and asked me to come in and take a test. I did go in and take the test. I usually test somewhere between 60-70 wpm which is good enough in case you were wondering. But then the week after that they closed their offices so I never got a call back from them. So I never did any work in politics. I took a typing test but my services were not needed there.

Which Reminds Me

How convenient for Trina to have an older brother named Barry who can go around shooting at innocent bystanders such as myself for imaginary wrongs never committed at least by me in order to defend her honor against imaginary attacks that actually never happened. I really don't remember much about Trina and I doubt that anyone gave much thought to the idea of tinkers and tailors and other book titles that we never read anyway or junk dealers that we never heard of. I never had an older brother to defend me in that way so perhaps I am fortunate in that way.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what would you do if you were living in 19th century Germany and your own Militarist-Junker cousins were waving guns in your face and telling you they will kill you and steal all your stuff unless you do whatever they want? Wouldn't you fight back? Or you would just get so beaten down that you didn't care anymore. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that frequently told joke that was circulating widely about the person who used the hop, skip, jump method of biblical interpretation, opened his Bible to some random page and with eyes closed pointed to some verse at random. Opening his eyes he read, "... and Judas went out and hanged himself." Thinking there must be some mistake he repeated the process and the second time opened his eyes and read, "Go thou and do likewise." So this incident was widely cited as a solemn warning against using that particular method of Biblical reading and interpretation. However, well, other people have told many stories of opening the Bible at random and finding wonderful words of encouragement that spoke to them personally. So I supposed that God can use anything, even the wrong method of Biblical reading, to work his purposes.

Anyway, the Potter's field was a cemetery where poor people were buried and it was purchased by Judas using those 30 pieces of silver, in case someone forgot.

Which Reminds Me

And what all of this has to do with the John Birch Society I have absolutely no idea. I never spent much time researching the complicated story of John Birch, a Baptist missionary shot and killed by a soldier in China during World War II, so I really would not be able to comment on what that has to do with the price of tea in China. I am not a Baptist so I really would have no idea what that was all about. You are certainly not going to get any information out of me on that subject because I was not even born yet at the time. You could always try reading the book.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, is my name Miss Robertson that I should find myself compelled to contract with the nameless faceless hog mob of Iowa? Neither is there any Mrs. Pyle in existence to compel my allegiance to something in which I was never involved and have very little awareness of. Perhaps Ms. Bush should be asked to explain herself but I am not she. I would say that it is hard for me to understand how Katherine could remain employed for such a long time when she does such a lousy job of representing herself, much less anything of mine. She might have been funny in a brittle and humorless sort of way but I have no need of her services, myself being represented by Jesus himself, my Savior and Redeemer, so anyway Katherine should not expect to be getting any reward from me for nothing much.

Which Reminds Me

The options are Mr. Mrs. Miss and Ms. I rather despise the horrid Ms. magazine but I do like the option of avoiding a lengthy discussion about why am I still a Miss at my advanced age, what did I do wrong, didn't I like so-and-so and what about so-and-so and blah blah blah. Singleness is not an option for some people such as myself. It's just personal, not something to discuss with every Tom Dick and Harry out there who happened to notice something that is really none of his business.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely recall reading the book by that Broadway chatterbox who doesn't seem to know when to shut her mouth. (Pam B. might remember seeing that on my bookshelf.) Needless to say, the book provides more personal information than we ever wanted to know about those people and we are not particularly interested in learning more about that book that I probably discarded long ago. Whatever. It is not like I would ever have the ability to compete on that level even if I had wanted to lower my standards that low, which I don't so I won't have anything to add to that, truth be told. Anyway, perhaps we are not the persons that she thinks that she is talking to so obviously that will not be our problem.

Which Reminds Me

It is true that Trixie Belden was merely a fictional character from a children's book series whereas Tricksy Trina is an actual flesh-and-blood person who was a high school classmate who arrived maybe after 10th grade. Even so, it is hard for me to understand why I should feel any amount of pity for such a hostile bore as Trina. I too am a real flesh-and-blood person who has a soul and although I am quite aware of myself being killed by those nasty people who are so pompously full of their own self-importance as the breeders of the world—whatever.—even so, God loves me and forgives my sins and has a place for me in heaven because I have put my faith and hope in Jesus and not in a bunch of snarky people who never meant that much to me anyway.

Which Reminds Me

For about a month during college I remember that Eric Moline was following me all over campus but in a weird way. I would be walking across campus and he would get directly behind me and walk behind me. I would start hearing the sound of footsteps directly behind me. Weird. We might have talked a couple of times. I am sitting there in the piano room practicing and he comes and sits nearby and tells me that his mother was a redhead pianist. Ok, so maybe I remind him of his mother but there was nothing romantic about that. Then finally he gets up the nerve to ask me if I want to be in a relationships and I say no because he was weird. He had just spent nearly a month irritating me in weird ways and then he expect me to say yes? No.

Which Reminds Me

I might agree that overused cliches can get somewhat trite and irritating, something to be avoided in some cases. However I would strongly disagree with the idea that 20 years in prison is a just penalty for the overuse of certain cliches and figures of speech. As if you don't know what I mean. As if I even know what you are talking about. As if every language does not have its own figures of speech of various kinds. As if only poor people use figures of speech and are too stupid to understand plain English. We found the various figures of speech in the Spanish language mildly amusing so we do not expect these immigrants to pretend they are under no obligation to likewise learn English in all its myriad forms and varieties. And if they don't understand, tough but you really do not deserve a public platform just for that minor point. You could have stayed home and stuck to Spanish only.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there really ought to be some nice and polite way of explaining to these Jewish people that we are really not interested in being assimilated into their miserable culture. At least, it sounds miserable to me, all that legalism. I noticed that Trina Tinker's junk dealer operations have been fully documented. If she wants a solution to the junk dealing problem perhaps she ought to put a gun to her own head because probably no one else in high school knew anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

Someone repeatedly is telling me a story about Lance Starin, a boy who was there in high school with us only during the ninth grade. Since I have no firsthand knowledge of these people I cannot repeat all of this guesswork, just something about a girl who walked over to his house and had a hostile encounter with his mother. Who was that? Joan? Kathy? Heather? I never had any idea of anything about that. I only know for certain that it wasn't me. I was in the girls' choir that his mother directed in 9th grade but beyond I never had much contact with those people and know nothing about that. If you want to introduce me to these people so that I can hear them tell their stories firsthand or else sell me their books that would be one thing, but just to bother me with miscellaneous trivia that never affected me in any way, regarding persons who are almost completely unknown to me, I really don't understand why I should care about this.

Which Reminds Me

For what it's worth, I was one of the persons who voted against the establishment of a labor union in the SFFN newsroom. Already my salary is nothing to boast of and on top of that you are expecting me to pay dues from nothing to be represented by who knows what monstrosity composited by labor union organizing whiners from which I will probably get nothing back. I really couldn't see any benefit coming from the proposed labor union so I voted against the idea of even getting started on that idea.

So while our newspaper owner/publisher in a past lifetime had been a labor union attorney in Georgia during the civil rights movement there, here in Florida efforts to establish a labor union at his business were not successful.

Which Reminds Me

There was a time when some persons invited all the writers at our newspaper to a meeting at a local restaurant and then when we all got there we were asked if we would be interested in forming a labor union. However, there was not enough interest so that never happened.

Which Reminds Me

In fact, one day I remember Andy saying exactly that shortly after the Sentinel bought us out. We were talking about that, having scooped the daily on something, and Andy just laughed and cackled and said that we were so ridiculous, that as far as he was concerned this whole thing about weeklies competing with dailies was now officially over, that we must accept our sub-standard position as ranking pathetically underneath the Sentinel forever after. We are not even really reporters, only staff writers, so we should not imagined ourselves in any way licensed to practice journalism. So we got the message that basically there will be no path to advancement to the daily Sentinel, that we are just rats hopelessly caught in a trap if we choose to stay at the Forum. So probably that explains why a lot of people left eventually. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

When I was working for the Hi-Riser at the Fort Lauderdale office I remember that a co-worker, Michael Sasser, mentioned having gone to lunch with a co-worker, Alan Goch, who was editor of the Jewish Journal, and maybe some other people. They had gone to Roadhouse Grill or Denny's where Alan had ordered pork chops which Michael thought was hysterically funny. Yes, I can sort of see where that might be some kind of joke for them. Michael also told me that Alan's wife is actually not Jewish, a Catholic. Oh, I didn't know that. How convenient for the Jewish Journal staffers that the sale of the company to the Sun-Sentinel never seemed to depreciate or negatively affect their career prospects. For some of us the change was not so good. Someone was saying that we were like the red-headed stepchild that the Sentinel didn't really want. They were just buying us out because our advertising people were giving them too much competition. It was a good move for them to increase their advertising income while at the same time obliterating the editorial competition. No longer were we allowed to have any pride in our work or in having scooped the daily on some point. Nothing we did really mattered after that. We were just supposed to churn out the copy needed to fill in the spaces around the ads.

Which Reminds Me

"The chips flew..." This line comes from a story involving Delray Beach city politics that was written by Jeff Perlman. However, I suppose that no one would appreciate my needlessly pointing out that it derives from a story that I had written a week earlier while Jeff, the regular reporter for that city, was on vacation and I was substitute covering a city meeting of Delray Beach in which a man who was proposing to build a Home Depot-type store at an important intersection of Atlantic Avenue in that city apologized for not providing the type of blue chip jobs that might be expected from an IBM or similar computer industry. No, these will be potato chip jobs, I quoted him as saying in the story I had written. Somehow that quote primed the pump for the following week when Jeff had returned from vacation and someone appeared at city hall with a bag of potato chips and threw them at the podium or something like that. Oh, should I apologize for accurately reporting what happened? People say these things but we can't always control how people overreact to such minor wordings.

Which Reminds Me

Well, I am not saying that France is not an important European ally. Thanks to France we have that colossal statue of somebody's mother decorating New York harbor. You chided me for having taken the side trip to the island to see the Statue of Liberty and yet I never did that. I had yet to tour New York City in that way so highly recommended for tourists, not that I wouldn't someday if afforded the opportunity, so you obviously have me confused with someone else. And anyway, what is so wrong with seeing that? How can you graduate from high school and yet know nothing about history? I do not wish to dialogue with such an annoying person.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sad that Uncle Steve sold his soul to the devil. However, it should be clear to all by this time that he only speaks for himself and his own French house and that we, the rest of us in the extended family, are not included and/or interested in participating in Stephen's private French deal with the Chinese/Jewish mafia. Not to be mean or anything but we cannot have the mafia imagining that they have any contract on us and yapping so loudly as if that were so. I am just saying. We are tired of hearing all this loud noise in the background from people who really have nothing to say to us.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I so much wish there was some way to flush out these crafty Lutherans. And if I am not a card-carrying Lutheran, does that make me a non-Protestant, either Catholic or Jewish? Truth is more complicated than that. So just because one of my past bosses was a Lutheran, that does not give him a license to run my life. There ought to be some way to throw these card-carrying Lutherans out the window. And didn't the Lutherans sell out to Catholicism? So the Lutherans have lost their distinctive identity. They are salt without a savor, good enough only to be thrown away for being tasteless. They stand for nothing much, truth be told.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how convenient for Becky that she somehow managed to find a Mr. Right willing to marry her. Without a husband it is certain that Becky and her best friend Bonnie perhaps would experience more fully the wickedness of their high school behavior and beyond. We in our generation could not imagine being even half so wicked as Becky and Bonnie. Becky and Bonnie give a bad name to MK's everywhere. And how convenient that Becky's Mr. Right has a big Double-You in front of his name (Wright, actually) so as to deflect attention from the actual source of the problem which may be the wickedness of Becky. But of course I dare not speak these things publicly. After all, I am a Christian and Christians just don't say these things. We are supposed to forgive and let live.

Which Reminds Me

I don't remember when I thought I was hearing from San Diego, something about how Mr. Coffee returned there and later got divorced. The Coffee children blamed Becky's interference for the breakup of their parents' marriage. How sad! However, I don't know anything about that. Sorry but, well, all I remember is something about bowling. There was only one bowling alley in the entire country at the time so that was interesting to get to go there and learn something about the game of bowling. We had a very nice time that evening, didn't we? But that was a long time ago. Much water under the bridge since then.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was nice of Mr. Coffee to take us all bowling, but wasn't his first name Jim? I really don't remember very much about him. Just that while he was visiting El Salvador he got chummy with the missionaries there. Becky was his tour guide and was showing him around but then my parents made a fuss about them spending too much time together. After all, Mr. Coffee was a married man and should be going home now to his wife and children in San Diego. What was Becky thinking, getting on such familiar terms with a married man? Did she think there was going to be a happy ending similar to that of that romance novel written by one of missionary wives in which the visiting missionary bachelor finds the love of his life while visiting at a missionary's home? No, it wasn't really like that. Single women should not be expecting too much from mission field adventures. And I suppose that the Stewarts are expecting me to pay for that in vindication of Becky's honor. As if I could control what my parents say and do. As if.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, as I was saying to someone, I never claimed to be the best or better at everything. I imagine that any particular thing that I might do, probably there is someone who could do that better than me. For example, I never claimed the title of national champion at Tiddlywinks. I imagine that plenty of people could outperform me at the game of Tiddlywinks, and yet, I think, so what? Is my entire self-esteem based on being better at Tiddlywinks than everybody else? No, not really. I really don't care if someone else has the national Tiddlywinks trophy stashed away at their house. Tiddlywinks was never that important to me anyway. Who cares?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to remember that I once read a book about comedy writing but it never made any sense to me and I didn't get very far into that. I guess you have to be born with that comic talent because comedy never worked for me. I was not born to write comedy and probably never will do that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, isn't that Terry Abbot I heard smugly and self-righteously crowing about his own abstemious behavior in comparison to mine? And yet I see that he has fallen into the temptation against which we were warned by the Apostle Paul himself, that of comparing ourselves one to another. There is none righteous, no not one, as the apostle has said. If you think that your self-esteem is based on entirely on being better than me, and thus earning the right to spite me, then well, you are in serious trouble. You have fallen short of the mark and have been found wanting, obviously, because being better than me is nothing really, a mere cakewalk. Obsessing so much on my faults proves only that you failed to set your eyes on things above. The plumbline was leveled and you were found to be hideously deformed and crooked. So I am just trying to say, while avoiding a futile attempt at defending my own defenseless behavior, that even so God forgives me and your failure to forgive me will make it difficult for God to forgive your impudence later. I am just saying. Like, who are you anyway to be so cruel?

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that they will be sending all their money to support Dr. Heidi's ministry. I noticed that she landed in Africa. So that's nice. You may do whatever you want with your money in this free country.

As for me, I doubt that I would ever send a dime to her mainly because I do not think that she is with the Assemblies of God. She might be UPC or similar Pentecostal group. Perhaps Heidi could rename herself the great UPC Hope and make that point abundantly clear. However, I am from the Assemblies of God church denomination which has hundreds of missionaries out there on the field doing good things for God. I cannot even afford to support all the hundreds of AG missionaries, much less extend a dime to the UPC and the PH and other groups. It is not like I have any ecumenical project in mind at this time nor unlimited riches to fund all of these ministry projects that I did not ask for. Nobody wants to pick an argument with the UPC people when they are doing good things for the poor but, well, our AG programs are also doing many good things for the poor. However, I will say that the name United Pentecostal Church is a bit misleading because it tends to give the impression of that they contain the unity of all Pentecostals when actually there are some significant differences among the various groups in terms of doctrines and beliefs. It wasn't like that a hundred years ago but we cannot go backwards in time and pretend that all of those doctrinal squabbles didn't happen.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was talking about Broadway and the making of Broadway shows and how I probably wouldn't be any good at that. Yes, you're probably right about that. I probably wouldn't be any good at that, especially as I probably wouldn't get to do anything that I would want to do. Everything would just be redone by others so, really, why bother. Better to let the professionals write the bombs so that I don't have to pay for that.

Which Reminds Me

A few years back I was getting a message from Mark Hummel who lives in New York and he was saying something about Broadway and Radio City where he works as a pianist. Ok, whatever. I had changed careers by then and have no need of a pianist so, well, he will need to look elsewhere for students because I won't be available. Sorry. Someone was talking like maybe someday I could go to NYC and see the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall and catch a glimpse of Mark at the piano surrounded by his dancers. He certainly is quite an amazing piano machine but it is more likely that I may never get there, NYC not being high on my list of travel priorities, and the message didn't seem very welcoming.

Which Reminds Me

I am suddenly reminded that someone was talking about belly buttons, maybe it was Dauna, and she was saying that hers or someone's was an outie, meaning that her navel is protruding rather than indented. Umm. That's more personal information that I had asked for or ever wanted to know and yet I am not ashamed to say that mine is definitely NOT an outie. But you wouldn't know that outside of my saying so because I certainly never served as one of Terry's bikini babes. So if yours was an outie, well, I hope you were not expecting a prize just for that because that's all you're going to get.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was accusing me of having terrorist connections but I don't what they are talking about. How many times do I have to rehash the same old thing about those people who I barely remember, particularly Toño and Conchi, and whatever it was they and their friends were talking about? I have nothing to add to that. You already know who they are, myself having pointed them out long ago, and yourself having worked them over, which I can tell by the wording of your tricky questions, but I really have nothing else to offer in the way of information. I only know what I heard already. Talk to them yourself. My sister probably remembers more about this than I do. They were her friends, not mine.

Which Reminds Me

So perhaps Dr. Baker is intent on proving true the maxim that you can perform many signs and wonders in Jesus' name and yet, when brought before the judgment, perhaps no one will actually recognize you because you weren't really there. You were only taking care of yourself. You didn't really care about anyone but yourself.

Which Reminds Me

I continue to think of Fred as a vulgar foul-mouthed skunk who does not deserve to get a dime from me. Wasn't Fred extremely fascinated with those horrible French dogs? Well, then that is all he is going to get.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, unlucky me. How unfortunate I was to have to attend high school with the horrible Hills brothers. I never thought much about them, such dull and boring persons were they. So why is their mother always so eagerly seeking out ways to insult me? I cannot imagine why this is happening. I really could not care less about the horrible Hills family and I think they have nothing of significance to say to me. So will someone please shut down the horrible Hills trap? And I do mean permanently. Thank you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we were talking about the Psalms and the way that the Psalmist always expressed his paranoia, always asking God to give him victory over his enemies. So if God is going to bless me that means that you are just going to have to be satisfied with being my enemy and just get used to being second-class because that is all you are going to get from that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem odd, all this yapping about some flaky New Age witch. They couldn't possibly be talking about me. In fact, I can't even imagine who that would be. I would only be guessing if it happens that I find myself imagining that you are angling for a comment on that very P.C. Dr. Heidi Baker, a person who was there in my college but of whom I remember almost nothing, just that maybe she was in the Street Theatre Drama Club along with Eric Moline?, a very annoying person who might have been interested in me except that I brushed him off because I really wasn't interested. There was no reason for me to continue leading on such a non-compatible person as Eric. I just want him to go away and leave me alone. Didn't he die quite a few years ago, which is sad to have died so young, but why is he still hanging around expecting something from me? There is really nothing else to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do think that our nation, the United States, does an excellent job of honoring our military veterans for their years of service to our nation. Their heroic deeds are honored with the purple cross and other medal honors. An entire branch of the government is devoted to building hospitals and clinics that provide excellent priority medical care to our veterans who have risked life and limb in obedience of their military orders of whatever nature for whatever purpose. "Our is not to question why, ours is but to do or die," as the poet says. When veterans die there are cemeteries designated for their burial with military honors. Two national holidays are set aside — Memorial Day and Veterans Day — for which to bring to remembrance the heroic deeds of past heroic deeds of the military branches — Army, Navy, Marine and Air Force. We have conceded that war is at times a necessary evil and that for military people to do their duty is a commendable and honorable thing even though military service is not mandatory in the U.S. I do not recall myself asking for or stating any need for further discussion of this point. I do not wish to be drawn into an argument on this particular subject. Research shows that Grandpa Calkins might have had some distant relatives who were of the pacifist persuasion but I wouldn't know anything about that. You would have to ask them because I don't really know what they think they are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember the obscenities and vulgar abuse dished out by Thomas on a continual basis during high school, never mind that I never said a word to him ever nor do I know a single thing about him other than he has three brothers of similar surname in the school. Thus it is puzzling that anyone should be expecting me to say something about him. I really have nothing to say about him. You would have to ask Raymond.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I always was appalled by the vulgar obscenities spewing continually, and I do mean continually, a constant flow, from the mouths of Thomas and Raymond. Personally, I do not care to socialize such repulsively foul-mouthed persons as Thomas and Raymond, never mind about what high school you attended. I just don't understand why that would be an issue that would gain any sympathy. But of course persons who talk that way probably are not really Christians and thus would not have much consciousness of their own behavioral problems and do not seem to realize how that negatively affects their lives and how they are perceived by observers. But of course no one dares to reproach them or censor their idiotically meaningless verbiage, and yet they make themselves ridiculous. But we know better than that. Not that we never make mistakes, but we were trained at an early age about what not to say and the reasons why we don't say certain things. I remember saying something about this to someone but apparently I was not understood. Maybe my criticism was worded too strongly, and yet I still feel the same way about that even after recovering from the brainwashing that was attempted by Cori.

Which Reminds Me

Hey, didn't I hear that Timmy works for Microsoft in Seattle? And isn't that the company owned by Bill Gates? But it must be mere coincidence, all of this "gates" punning. It is not like those filthy rich people could be aware of my existence, much less do me any favors. All they do is take our money. Rich people are sort of like bloodsucking vampires, always charging for this and that, nickel and diming us whenever they can. I could say the same thing about some other people as well. But anyway I already own my copy of Microsoft Office, paid for it fair and square. There is nothing more that "Bill" could be charging me for at this time. I just cannot imagine why I should care about Stevie and Timmy's employment nightmares. I seriously doubt that their mental issues could be all my fault. They always were just too exaggerated. All that playing "pretend" can really play tricks with your mid.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I think I did notice at one time the existence of a certain Stephen Barth, a Jewish rabbi living in the San Francisco area. How odd that he should have the same surname as my great-grandfather who was German but not Jewish that I ever heard of. Obviously we are not related to Stephen. I really don't need to explain this point. I cannot imagine why he thinks himself Jewish because we were not related to him that I ever heard of. Not to be mean or anything.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it was somewhat amusing to see in local television commercials the familiar faces of the other missionaries and their children, mainly the Buenos and Davenports, who had been invited to perform in short television vignettes advertising the virtues of various products available for sale in local stores. I myself was never invited to perform in any product advertisement for television or print. I would rather not draw much attention to this point, not wishing to advertise the fact that I am really not the glamor type that would ever be called upon for such on-camera promotional activities. Anyway, only the boys were called on by those TV execs, whoever they were. Perhaps they thought that the appearance of white people in advertising would enhance the product's appeal or give the impression of importation from the United States, never mind wherever the products actually came from. Anyway, the boys did not share with us their television connections and expertise nor do I recall myself asking a lot of questions about that. No, it was always clear to me that I obviously have no future in the world of television advertising and that any questions I might ask about that would not return any significant information. Anyway, I should not have to be constantly explaining that I never was photogenic when everybody already knows this, obviously. It really was not necessary to hammer on this point as I already got that picture. Anyway, what would a TV advertising career matter in such a small country where possibly not even a million television sets are yet operational? I cannot really say that I would not have gone along with that if I had been asked. But it was only a minor sideshow anyway. And anyway, I was not asked. Obviously.

I got the impression later that their TV advertising activities had created somewhat of a fuss there in the country but as I was already gone by that time I really wouldn't know very much about that.

Yes, I do suppose that a missionary appearance in product placements on TV creates at least the appearance of a conflict of interests. That was really not why we were there. It doesn't seem to me that we should be doing that and risk comprising our message, but then again I suppose the opportunity is a temptation of a flattering nature that is hard for some people to resist.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem a bit weird to see OPEC dictating what I can or cannot do with my non-existent gas and oil money. As if. As if the Middle East were dictating U.S. policy on gas an oil money and/or mineral rights. As if I had no choice in the matter. As if not being connected to the Jewish Kleins, Beverly's in-laws, makes me a Muslim. As if having a Moore far back in the family tree makes us Arab. Um. Not really. As if one could be Jewish and a Christian at the same time, and not crucify Christ all over again. Um. Not really. As a Christian, I must have an identity distinct and separate from either Jewish and Muslim, not to be mean or anything. Sometimes the lines get sort of blurry in this messy world, but I am neither one nor the other. Nevertheless, that said, it does not logically follow that I was ever a fan of the "Three Stooges" television show, unlike some other people I could name. The "Three Stooges" and a few vintage 1950s cartoons were the only English language programming offered on television in San Salvador during the time that I lived there. After the TV station was flipped on at about 4 p.m. weekdays and the grey snow gives way to the test pattern, there would be about a half-hour of English language programming, meaning cartoons and the "Three Stooges," before segueing to the Spanish language programming. I can sort of imagine how some ignorant Salvadorans possibly may be thinking that all English-speaking people are represented by those dopey characters of slapstick fame: Mo, Curly and Larry. As if we just go around slapping and kicking people and poking them in the eyes. Um. Not really. But for some of these ignorant Salvadorans, the "Three Stooges" is almost the only American thing they have ever seen on TV. Also, someone was explaining to me an elaborate theory of the "Three Stooges" as a form of religious satire. Um. That was a novel idea to me. I had not really thought of it that way, but some people's imaginations have no boundaries or limitations. Some people may also be thinking that Christ was condoning his killers. Um. Not exactly. He forgave them because "they know not what they do" but he wasn't really saying that what they did to him was the right thing to do.

Which Reminds Me

How dare this "Sam" character criticize the color green? And if I should choose to paint the walls of my office green, a rather pleasant shade of green chosen from a Martha Stewart palette, among the swatches at a local Scherwin & Williams paint store, what is that to Sam? Now that our Honduran neighbor Raul is out of jail perhaps he can tell you about the paint job he did there. I rather like green, in the right shade, although red has its place I suppose, at least as Christmas decor. But not too much red. Red makes me depressed. Red is so garish. Anyway, everyone knows that this "Sam" character has no business telling me what colors I must paint my walls or anything else for that matter. No one really likes "Sam." We sometimes get whiffs of Sam's idiotic ponderations gushing forth from San Jose in the Bay Area and we are not pleased to hear from him. We have come to think of Sam as very annoying and obnoxious. Ok, so maybe he is slightly related to me but indirectly so his opinions really don't matter that much. You really should not assume that "Uncle" Sam is your key to robbing us blind.

Which Reminds Me

I do agree that I should not be in charge of casting, assuming a movie deal were justifiable. Certainly, if I were in charge of casting, you can be sure that Bob and David and Don would not get important speaking parts. I never was impressed with their lousy acting abilities. They had all the little children all worked up into a screaming frenzy of "Chicken! Chicken!" They were weird. And what is so admirable about kissing stupid Don, may I ask? That's nothing. I suppose that I could kiss my slobbery dog if I weren't so germ conscious, but why would I want to? And so I choose not to.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you seem to be reminding me of the crystal egg. Why are my so-called friends giving me all of this doggie-dyke garbage? A crystal egg? It makes we think they are not so bright after all. They don't seem to understand how sexy I might have been or even still be if encountered by True Love/Mr. Right's kiss. There are no guarantees in life, and yes, I know some believe that a girl might have to kiss a few toads and/or frogs before Prince Charming finally appears on the scene. Nevertheless, I never did see any reason to bestow any such honors on those repulsive toadies Bobby and David and Max. Some repulsive toadies are best left to frolic in their swampy ecosystems without interference from me. Sorry about that. Nevertheless, there are some things too personal to be discussed with stupid doggie dykes named Linda and Donna and Haulie, a flaky New Age guru now living in Oregon. Anyway, what was I supposed to do with that crystal egg? If I still have that, its two halves might be stored away in some junk drawer or shoebox. I don't quite remember why I should care about that, and yes, perhaps I am too lazy to mail things back to their donors and thus compound the insult. It just wasn't that important to me.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, given that I never discussed money with Patty, I see no reason for further discussion of this point. For answers about the money question you would need to ask Patty, obviously. We never really talked that much. She has some issues but whatever. Although Patty is only one person, that is not to say that she could not be dangerous if carrying a loaded machine gun, another reason not to be showing my cards to Patty.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do recall that in Miss Marken's 10th grade English class there was some discussion of the Patty Hearst kidnapping, referring of course to the abduction of the newspaper heiress by the Symbionese Liberation Army. She was brainwashed by her abductors and photographed carrying a machine gun inside a bank, not a legal way to withdraw cash. Joanne contributed to some discussion of San Francisco because she considers herself an insider of Bay Area society, unlike myself, a person who doesn't care that much. If only there weren't so many problematics attached to the Bay Area, but whatever.

Which Reminds Me

Is there some reason why I should continue to feel myself intimidated by Turnbull trash Sherry? Sherry is uniquely a Panama dog like no other so nobody actually cares later whatever happened to her that she should go around trumpeting her stupid opinions so loudly. I would not have thought of saying anything but someone really ought to finally take charge of shutting down Sherry's stupid trap before even more damage results. Some things were not so clear back in the old days but now it has become abundantly clear that Sherry is just a stupid idiot and the fruit of Sherry's stupidity is not very good, just Panama dumb. I really shouldn't be saying this but, like I said, this lousy script was written beforehand.

Which Reminds Me

Given that I have no idea whether Rafael Gallo is in any way related to the Bush camp, I cannot offer to help you in any way. I dare not say this in such a discourteous way, given that I have no political power, but I really need to disabuse political honchos of the mistaken notion that I am somehow a groveling slave to their Mexican Bush Machina. I don't know anything about that. Which is why I am withdrawing my name from party politics. Not to be mean or anything but independence is a good thing. I really don't care about not being invited to your private party. Really. This is a free country where I should be able to live my life unhampered by dreary political whiners who have no thought of what I am supposed to do with the rest of my life and what is best for me, as if I were nothing but a pawn to be played for their own political sefl-aggrandizement. Not to be rude or mean or something. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

You just spent all of this time shoving down my throat this lousy script that you wrote, not because I ever thought of even half of that stuff, but because you must stage it coming from my mouth before you can accuse me of these charges which were mostly thought of by you without any help from me. And then you expect me to sign my name to this garbage, as if I should give you some credit for having ruined country for everyone involved. Yes, something is wrong with this picture.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, who gave Dauna a pass? It certainly wouldn't be me. I wouldn't even give myself a pass, so why is everyone crediting me with knowing of what I speak, as if I could not be mistaken, as if anything I said ever mattered in the least? In many words there is greater risk of sin, certainly. Silence is golden and yet if I don't speak up maybe someone will not have the opportunity to clarify this important point so determinative of future pathways. Just because I made some twisted comment to Dauna at one point, that did not mean that I would actually repeat the same thing if placed on the witness stand under oath with my hand on the Bible so help me God. No, in some other company I would not care to comment in that way and risk perjuring myself as I actually don't know. Yes, I would not want to repeat some stupid comment I made at one point not really knowing what I was talking about. I would prefer to remain silent on this point, if called to account, because I really have no account to provide other than some lame commentaries provided by Holly MacGowan, a psycho. major and perhaps one or two other people. I don't remember that very clearly. And anyway, did not Dauna drop out of college without graduating so she is without cap and gown to show for all that constant yapping of hers. her mindless gossip doesn't really prove anything other than you have a big chip on your shoulder in regards to me, as if I were the problem. Um, I think that I am only a minor player in some other drama.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely recall the existence of a high school classmate named Rafael Gallo. Given that Gallo is also the maiden name of Jeb's wife, I can only guess that you are angling for information on him. Nevertheless, I have nothing specific to offer. He might have been in some of my high school classes but nothing specific comes to mind except for that yearbook photograph of Rafael and Joanne Calabrese sipping from the same cup. Which is why I can only refer you to Joanne who I believe lives in San Francisco or at least the Bay Area, fascinated as she was by the kidnapping of Patty Hearst. I have nothing to add to what Joanne might say about Rafael. I have no clue about that. I wasn't paying that much attention, truth be told.

Which Reminds Me

I hereby announce, not regretfully, that I will not be available to play the role of Antagonist to your band of Heroine X-Addict Trucksters. I recognize that you perhaps need a viciously cruel Antagonist against whom to build up some ying-yang resistance, wherewith to more fully cultivate and vindicate your heroic self-aggrandizement at the expense of the pathetic and woefully inadequate antagonist. Nevertheless, I recognize that my own brilliant star will more likely eclipse your tawdry, ho-hum, mediocre accomplishments if too much attention is drawn to my existence. Thus, I humbly and modestly withdraw my name from consideration for the role under discussion.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, here I am again, stuck at Donner Pass. Donner Pass is a scary place thick with snow, fraught with peril. Donner Pass is a place where parents will eat their own children just to keep themselves alive, a place where civilized humans, faced with the prospect of starvation, cut off from all help, may revert to a state of primitive cannibalism. The horrific event of California history happened in 1846. And yet the Donner Pass incident was frequently referenced during college, even by Dauna herself. Maybe Dauna remembers what that meant. I really don't remember now. The details are a bit fuzzy in my mind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to remember that Debbie was never shy about insulting everyone within earshot, including Panama Shari as well as myself, and I imagine that the favor would be returned by Shari, who always was so unbelievably arrogant and rude given that we all know that it was she was got herself expelled in the first place. I cannot afford to go around insulting and screaming and publicly criticizing people, given my shaky and penurious position in society, which is why I generally seek to avoid these disgruntled whiners such as Debbie and Darlene. I think that if Darlene wants to rip Debbie I think that she should do the job herself and not expect me to do the job for her. Just leave me out of it. I really don't understand what Darlene was thinking. I just wasn't that important.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit confusing, these dreary Panama dogs pretending to be somehow connected to me. Aren't those pompous Canal Zone dogs just the most pretentious whiners you ever did see? Just look at that shrill hag Shari, for example. And these Southern rollers pretending to be the sole representatives of the country nation. Uhh.... not really. I shouldn't have to argue this point. The Civil War ended a long time ago. Anyway, the Cranfords can just put my check in the mail because really there is no reason for me to ever go there to be abused by them. They can always get my address from public records to mail me my check which is the only thing I care about getting, which is my due inheritance maybe someday unless I die first or get disinherited or something. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

I do recall that while I was in high school Eugenia, who had been our maid in Mexico, stopped at our house in San Salvador to visit us. She had traveled to Panama for some reason and was returning from there, I cannot imagine why or who she would have known there. Panama, in my experience, has only minor significance as a Canal Zone especially now that everyone can just fly or truck and avoid the hassle of having to spend all that time navigating through the locks to get from the East to West Coast or vice versa. Really, who cares? Anyway, I don't see Panama applying for U.S. statehood any time soon so why should Panama get all these privileges it really doesn't deserve while U.S. citizens living abroad elsewhere get bumped to pump up the Canal Zone? Yes, I suppose that Panama could be an interesting cruise vacation for some rich people. I can sort of see why the Canal Zone might have seemed very important in the 19th century but a hundred years later I don't know how important that still is for the rest of us. Maybe we don't really need the Canal Zone anyway. Anyway, I can easily forget the Panama Zone ever existed because I was never there and don't really know anything about it. It just wasn't that important to me.

Which Reminds Me

The way you yap about making me pay the price, it makes me think that you know something more about Freddie Freeloader than I ever did. Fred never meant that much to me. You must have confusedly mistaken me for someone connected to the Anderson family, whose famous ancestor Tom was among the notorious freeloaders who rode the rails and got saved only after an accomplished life of crime and prison to repent of. Well, you have a very backhanded of explaining that as I had never even heard of that Tom Anderson until after getting myself slammed by those stupid Anderson dogs Jill and Sue. Well, people who live in glass houses shouldn't be throwing stones, as the saying goes, which applies as much to the Jack and Jill Anderson as to anyone.

Which Reminds Me

Coincidentally, Eugenia's name appears in the diaries of my great-grandmother because she came up to the United States with us during a vacation that year and was recorded in the diaries as playing games with the Butterfield cousins while we were somewhere else. She also appears in the U.S. a few years later when we were on furlough. What Eugenia and the Butterfields were conspiring behind our backs I really don't know. Great-grandmother does not explain it very clearly, just mentions her name as having been there. It is a bit annoying the way these Mexicans always have a way of trying to make us feel guilty about something, as if we owe them everything just because we were there. Well, it is more complicated than that.

Coincidentally, some distant cousin of my great-grandmother was married to a certain Mr. Price but I really wouldn't be able to explain that. You would have to ask someone else because I really don't know those people.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I really don't remember where we got those books written by Eugenia Price which I read during high school. The locale for those novels was St. Simons Island, Georgia, and gave a fictional treatment to the lives of the pioneer families who settled that area. You can't really tell from fiction who's who and what's what. To me it was a pleasant read but not really a reason to go there. And why would my fiction reading habits matter in the least? I cannot imagine why that would matter, just because one lady in the book gives her friend a beautiful crystal bird, which is almost the only thing I remember about that book.

Which reminds me that our maid during the year that we lived in Guadalajara, Mexico, was also named Eugenia. She had come from her hometown was a small town just north of Acapulco. I really don't know very much about her life later, just that she married there in Mexico and had two sons.

I really don't see much connection there. Eugenia just wasn't that important to me. Even so, these Mexicans are always finagling and conniving to get the most out of any white American connections they might have, regardless of how transient and tenuous. Too bad she wasn't lucky enough to marry an American politico from some hotshot powerful family. With a political husband attached to the U.S. presidency, can you imagine what she might be able to get for Mexican benefit? The sky is the limit I would imagine.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, you underestimate my intelligence if you imagine that I would want to learn more about the drug-dealing criminal antics that actually landed Jack and Lisa in prison. I somehow doubt that just having five children explains the existence of prison records with the names of Jack and Lisa attached. Anyway, I really wouldn't know anything about that. Not to be mean or anything but I really don't care what they do.