Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember overhearing Grandpa Calkins lamenting the loss of the gold standard as it was supposedly used to establish the value of the dollar in ancient times sort of. (He was born in maybe 1906?) Yes, I suppose that may be one of the few things that one or another uncle also remembers hearing him say, at least that if nothing else. Also looks like someone has been busy making really obnoxious jokes about how I am not the gold standard to which the currency is affixed and thus I am not convertible to gold bars upon demand. Ok, fine. Whatever. The monetary system is very complicated after all and I was never the smart aleck who claimed to know it all. This is why we have the motto on our coins, "In God We Trust," because, anyway, without God in the mix there is just nothing. But as long as we trust in God, we know the economy will continue to function more or less, the sun and moon will continue to rotate around the earth, the seasons will come and go as usual. So we really don't need to worry about that. We really don't need to write silly poems expressing this point when we already trust in God, never mind about other some confused people who don't quite get it.

Which Reminds Me

Well, excuse if I fail to see why I should apologize for overhearing someone else's political jokes that were made actually by my dear father or grandfather at the expense of your politically failed murderous father. So? Isn't there something called freedom of speech which, if suppressed, would allow your stupid father to trample my dear father or grandfather underfoot without legal shelter from your immense power and fortune. This is why I am being staged to come out swinging at the Kennedy riff-raff because, really, who cares about their political future? There must have been some reason why the Kennedys were so loathed by our Republican family. Anyway, just like everybody else, I only care about my own humble opinions and the publication and broadcast-ability in the privacy of my own home of my own personal opinions, whether informed or not, and if you have a problem with that, well, tough luck, you will not be invited back here. Nobody wants to be beholden to the dirty-tricks Kennedy clan on that basis. If I have a choice I will throw the Kennedys to the garbage can because I am not a clone of Mary Jo Kammerer, although it is not always up to me. Time and chance happen to all.

Which Reminds Me

With all this snarky chatter going on in the background, makes me wonder who asked Monica? Monica was there through 10th grade but so what? What do you remember about Monica? Monica may think that moving to the U.S. puts her on the edge of arts and culture as compared to other countries, but we all know that Monica was really a clueless nobody in high school. Just chirping about arts and culture does not mean that you know what you are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

As for boots, I did notice that someone was wearing boots but I never mentioned that. Maybe someone else said something. I really don't remember anything specific about the boots so that clue does not register anything here. I had a pair of boots in college but I rarely if ever wore them because I felt clutzy wearing them and also wanting to avoid some unknown fashion faux pas that I might not be aware of.

Which Reminds Me

Makes me wonder who really said in real life because I only that it wasn't me.

Which Reminds Me

I really should not respond to that. It would be very dangerous for me to actually express the things that you are fishing for. I would only be speculating if I were to guessingly suggest that I got the impression that someone threw someone out with the college fags. Somehow I heard about that later, even though I was not personally involved in that, but I am not a person who ever kept in close touch with them. Didn't I hear Linda Harrington and Jill Anderson explaining in great detail something about that Sharon? Why all this constant yapping about Sharon? Why would any self-respecting woman such as myself want so socialize with that hideous fairy fag? I am not interested in getting myself ferried to the worthless fag-lands of Ronnie Ricardo. I am only interested in protecting myself from any further contact with the fairy-fag club. Don't you have any idea that I never socialized with them? But far be it from me to intrude on the ferry-fag relationship of Jill and Linda, although they are now married to other people.

Which Reminds Me

In my high school class in my humble opinion there was no dully dangerous bimbo than Kelly. However, there was no one named Jessie that I can recall. Jessie who? I don't think that I know anyone named Jessie. Perhaps you are talking about someone else's high school experience.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there were some high school friends of my little sister who were somewhat confused thinking that the song, "The Candyman Can" was about me. No, not me. I am not going to do anything to make them feel better, especially not now. They should not be putting their faith in me. I will just disappoint them later when they don't get whatever they want just because, anyway, it is not about them. They just weren't that important to me. I really didn't like them in the first place and their incessant canting with this anti-"The Candyman" song only grates on my nerves even more. I really wish they would just go away and leave me alone. I know who I am. I don't need them to explain that to me. I don't want to hear another peep out of my sister's worthless high school people. I have not much patience for dull bimbos who get on my nerves.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I was walking along and said hi to Ricardo and also saw Dale nearby riding on a bicycle, interesting picture that but not something that I would think to mention later. It just wasn't that important.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how sad that Sammy's father died when he was young so that he has no father present now to help cut the red tape on whatever Sammy's pet projects might be, unlike Donald, whose father being the head of foreign missions, allows him to build whatever Castles he wants. I don't really know anything about that. I heard someone making some points on the Castle problematics but I really wouldn't know anything about that in a personal way. Donald has become a very nativized personality nowadays so it is hard for me to understand what his problem is. I really don't care that much about castles. A house of my own would be nice, but just castles in France, my budget just doesn't go that far.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I had not noticed these puzzle pieces until quite recently, but anyway there really is no connection to me never mind about superficial appearances. I never discussed the details of my high school experience with Sammy, who was there with us in El Salvador until halfway through eighth grade at the little school. They did visit during the summer maybe after 10th grade but anyway there is no way they could have ever met or known anyone from my high school, much less the Scottish high school classmates. They attended high school in Texas. So anyway, it is not surprising that Sammy would have followed in his parents' footsteps and later also became a missionary to Central America. So that much is not surprising. What is surprising is that he would later found a charitable trust to feed poor people, which is not really anything that we would be interested in doing. Our mission board just doesn't do that type of thing, preferring to emphasize the teaching of people to fish. So a school would be sort of understandable under special exceptions on record, but just feeding people lunch sounds nice in a fundraising way but philosophically speaking raises several problematic points of discussion that I do not wish to be bothered with having to elaborate. Life is short. I heard him trying to pick an argument about lunch bucket charities but I do not wish to participate in that argument, at least not in that angular fashion in which the questions are posed in a way to slander my reputation. If you want to give away your lunch money, fine. I really don't care what they do with their money and their personal ministry. However, there is no reason for me to feel guilty about some party to which I was not invited anyway and don't really know anything about what someone else did that was never really explained to me, that I should feel myself compelled to give money to feed the poor. So just because a high school classmate of mine had an emotional problem, that is not a reason for me to feel myself somehow compelled to give money to some clever extortionists. I am just saying. I am not guilty so tell Mark Rutty-Puke to stick that in his ear.

Which Reminds Me

During the time that I was at Evangel College, there was a concert by a certain musical group the name of which I cannot remember. The only thing that I can remember about that concert is that there was a song they sang with lyrics that said something like: "Are you smoking that cigarette or is that cigarette making a sucker out of you?" Oddly, it was surprising that some girls were offended at the implied legalism. I thought it was quite witty myself. My opinion differed from theirs, not that I ever had a chance to explain that, come to think of it.

Which Reminds Me

There seems to be some confusion as to the identity of Arthur Smith. There appears to be more than one Arthur Smith under discussion.

1. Arthur Henderson Smith (1845-1932), born in Connecticut and longtime missionary to China, who wrote a number of books describing the Chinese sometimes in a negative way thus controversial.
2. Arthur DeFrance Smith (1869-?) born in Pennsylvania, a cousin of my great-grandmother, a son of her uncle Edmund Smith (1841-1912).

Questions:
1. Were these two Arthur Smiths somehow related to one another? I really wouldn't know.
2. Did Arthur Smith No. 2 ever travel to China? The question is raised because there is the photo in great-grandmother's collection of an unidentified man wearing a Chinaman suit. Well, the caption says Ida Mey but that doesn't quite make sense, almost as if the photo has been misidentified. And then by genealogy research we learn that Ida May was the name of the wife of Arthur No. 2. Now, what would that Arthur Smith No. 2 be doing in Chinaman garments? I really wouldn't know. I noticed this odd photo puzzle but I would not be able to solve it without more information from family members who might know something about that.

Which Reminds Me

Those two horrid Wilson girls were at our house the day that my little sister had an accident. She fell off a roof, one story down and was a little bit dazed but not really seriously injured, maybe a concussion. I resent these insinuated suggestions that I somehow pushed her off the edge. That is absolute not true. We were just all stretching trying to see something over the side of the roof, a narrow ledge, and in her scrambling her foot slipped and she fell backward under the railing and off the ledge. I had not touched her nor pushed anyone out of my way. Still, I am blamed for not having prevented that, for we should not have been up there on the roof in the first place when my parents were not at home to supervise, that much is true. The maid, whose name it happens was also Betty, was there, but she also did not prevent us from going up on the roof. So yes, to some extent I am at fault for being there, and yet with no premeditated intent of murdering my little sister nor did I do that. I could never quite remember how that happened when I was facing away, looking at something out there and did not exactly see what happened. So if they cannot forgive me that, I also will not be able to forgive them later for being such a huge nuisance to me behind the scenes.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why all this yapping about sham pain and sham bullets (balas)? I really wouldn't know anything about the con artist rap that these Italians are obviously trying to conceal from public scrutiny by deflecting the attention onto me. Is that a reason for me to pity them? I really don't see the need for me to do something about that. The police will catch them eventually if there is something to catch.

Which Reminds Me

Whenever I visited the Getty Museum, I always paid my own admission fee fair and square just like every other member of the general public. Amazing museums. Thus I am not expecting to get hit later by the Getty family when I do not think that I owe them anything, have no personal connection whatever to them that I am aware of, don't know anything about it. Yes, I suppose that those rich people are always fearful of being kidnapped by whoever, as they say, but, anyway, that was never my problem. I was never rich or even slightly related to such rich people. Yes, I suppose that we have all seen those stories in the history books about rich people being kidnapped for ransom, such as the Lindbergh case of 1932, but, anyway, I have nothing to add to that conversation. Like I say, that was never my problem. I'm not rich and famous. Not by a long shot.

Which Reminds Me

While reading the diaries of great-grandmother, we learn of the existence of the Bellows family, who are her cousins to some degree. Even so, I have never met these people and don't know when I would ever get there to meet them. I only know they exist now because of reading the diaries. I never heard of any hot air blowing from Randy Bellows or Josiah Bellows, that I would ever think to look for them. Of course, now that we have done our genealogy research we see that Josiah Bellows married Ellen Smith, daughter of Edmund, the uncle of my great-grandmother, and Edmund Randall 'Randy' Bellows was one of their children whom great-grandmother contacted once when she was visiting her relatives back east maybe in the 1960s, so probably those people are dead by now I would imagine. But we would only know that from reading the diaries and doing our genealogy research, not because we would have any firsthand knowledge of them any other way.

Which Reminds Me

Maybe we did peek into the boot shop while touring downtown Carmel but did not buy anything, unlike some other people. Which reminds me that Mexican cheerleader Gloria sure was proud of herself having snagged a white husband, Rick, never mind that he be a wimpy milquetoast that no self-respecting white girl would have representing her interests, and who more recently had to resign in disgrace. But we should not generalize too much on these stereotypical portraits.

Which Reminds Me

The only thing I remember about the senior trip is that Ricardo was lucky not to get a speeding ticket while making record time driving north. That is almost the only thing I remember. Also, on that trip or some other, some people perhaps bought some of those custom-made leather boots at Carmel where they take detailed measurements of your foot but I was not one of them. The boots seemed too expensive to me so I only watched that from afar.

Which Reminds Me

It was odd some years after college to be hearing some complicated commentaries on the subject of Ricardo. At college everyone knew Ricardo, who was friendly with everyone, often seen talking and laughing with plenty of people. However, after not having heard a thing about him for so many years since, to suddenly be assailed by angry voices from Ricardo's family now living in Washington state was a bit too much for me. I really did not know Ricardo that well that I should be expected to say something. I really don't know very much about that. I just don't know what happened there.

Which Reminds Me

During my senior year of college, when we went on our senior sneak trip, I was in a car that included, among others, Ricardo Leyva, a Cuban, of whom not much has been heard since then, at least by me, except maybe once later at a pedestrian crossing, much changed in appearance that I almost didn't recognize him as the same person, and maybe Diane Roberts and some other people whose names I cannot recall and who I never liked very much anyway. Just because these people were at my college... Well, anyway, I don't remember anyone being crazy about the senior trip arrangements but it was not like we had a choice. We were just supposed to go wherever the trip planners sent us and call that fun whether it was or not actually sort of a miserable time, having nobody, well maybe Diane, might as well say nobody, for me to talk to. I really don't remember very much about that senior trip to somewhere in Northern California.

Which Reminds Me

And I am not even the person who ever made any issue out of Patty's entry to the U.S. as a naturalized citizen, never mind that I never particularly thought much of her in high school, just knew that she was a close friend of Kathy's, they are always chatting away during study hall, and likes to put on airs as a big fish in a small pond, whereas in the U.S. maybe she would just be a smaller fish in a much bigger pond, except that, come to think of it, with the CIA as her high school buddy, perhaps Patty could go farther than I had ever thought possible in terms of whatever she thinks she is trying to do, sticking it to the white people or whatever.

Which Reminds Me

I must confess that I am not the least bit sorry for having whacked Laura's cat at least once. It got so tiresome for me coming home from work weekdays, and any other time coming home from whatever on weekends, to walk into my own home apartment and to always be attacked by Laura's horrible cat, which quite aggressively lunged at my feet and legs as I walked towards my room, biting and clawing my clothes and shoes and also my skin, until finally I can shake off the cat and close the door and shut the cat out of my room. Finally one day I did give it a good whack which made it a bit more subdued after that in its usual attacks. Personally, I don't think that I can be deemed guilty of animal abuse as even cats require a certain amount of discipline.

Which Reminds Me

Barbara Wilder from sixth grade was not fond of jumprope, single or double rope either way, not only because of her D-width size shoes, but also because she was flatfooted due to fallen arches. Someone else might remember that. However, that was never my problem. The Birkenstock shoes fit me just fine even if they do look a little weird. I cannot imagine Barbara wearing Birkenstocks.

Which Reminds Me

All of these things tell us that you can be a very good writer, a very good artist, and yet not win the Nobel Prize for various reasons, maybe because your choice of subject matter was so peculiar as to be rather disturbing, too much giving voice to the dark side rather than actually promoting the public welfare, or just outnumbered by better nominees from other countries. That might explain why some countries have yet to boast of a Nobel Prize-winning author, not that they never had their nominations under discussion.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how annoying it is that someone is trying to throw me to the ravenous ones of San Diego. How many times do I have to explain that my name is not Susie? NOT Suzanne? There is no Susie here so I cannot explain to you what some other people were saying about Susie behind her back, or what Susie did to earn that, if anything. She certainly was huge but for starters, I was never really in San Diego so I cannot begin to explain what points someone else was trying to make, perhaps some cousin to some degree, beyond some superficialities. Beyond that I really don't know anything. I would really rather not comment judgmentally on the subject of Susie as I already know that I myself would only get hit on the back side of that for being too judgmental of the singlehood and then all my worst nightmares would come true either way.

Which Reminds Me

Nobody was going to say anything publicly about Kelly's lack of high school honors but since they are refusing to shut up their stupid mouths, we are forced to make this point even though we had not thought of them. Obviously high school marks do not necessarily determine everything for the rest of your life. I don't know very much about how this point became so controversial in a public way. I wasn't going to say anything else about that because I really don't care, but, anyway, don't we all have our weak points and our strong points? We already know by experience that a public school education is often slighted by the administrators of a private high school which fashions itself as prepping students for college, even if that private high school is located in another country. See how these American transfer students coming from the U.S. are often placed into the non-honors division because they are deemed not able to get caught up with the rest of us? So? What do you think it is that makes you worthy of an exception to the rules of a high school? Just holding a U.S. passport with photo illustration will not be sufficient to prove your so-called exceptionalities. Why would you want to force this issue? It is very complicated and forcing the issue could create some other unfortunate consequences for yourself, especially after you lose because the school administrators are just going to do whatever they want to do anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Needless to say, I will NOT be available later to perform silly dog tricks for your blonde bimbo girlfriend whom you did not mention before the introductions. What was that guy's name? Laura can explain them much better than I can. For all I know, she could be a clone of our high school classmate Kelly, who well deserved to be categorized with those clueless Dummies. Yes, even in the U.S. we have some not-so-bright people. One often seems to hear the wind whistling between Kelly's eardrums. If Kelly wants a governess or maid for her family, she can always hire from the Latina underground maid network, ensuring that all of her personal business will be just out there on the Internet for all to see, so that they can more easily classify you for their own purposes, because in the future, there just won't be any redheads available to work for her. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

That was sort of lame how that Latino guy was trying to stage and/or instigate a fight between redhead vs. blonde. Do you really think that I am so shallow that I cannot see through that artificially constructed silly artifice that he/they tried/are trying to stage? I sort of spaced out because, I mean, really, I will not be taking that bait. This is not Alice in Wonderland fiction here. You bore me with your obviously manipulative games. I have better things to do than to engage in some silly catfight with some obnoxious whiner, whoever it is. I am older and wiser now so I just don't do that anymore. I already know how you are, how you think that you are automatically counted virtuous and blameless by virtue of superficial appearances, never mind about all those outrageous things that you were saying at your desk that no one dares to call you to account for because anyway nobody will care about that. It is only me that everyone is so interested in targeting for no particular reason, just to make my life miserable it would seem. Maybe you really do think that eliminating all redheads will be to your advantage somehow. Yes, I suppose that could be true, that admitting my existence would force you to share too much the spotlight and power that you so jealously guard for yourself alone and to eat some humble pie for a change and to admit that you really do not know everything after all. You would not enjoy that, would you? So yes, I sort of understand how you think that way, even if I really don't care so much that I would care to perform for you. Yawn! After I'm gone, you will only have them to fight against. I just won't be there to help with that later. So that will be interesting to see how you fare when it is only you against them. You won't be able then to use me as your scapegoat then. You need to be getting accustomed to my non-existence since I won't be here later anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that there were allusions to Nancy's Boot-stomping song but it is hard for me to comment as I have no idea where that came from. The only Nancy I can think of, Nancy Kellerman, was originally from Pennsylvania but she now lives somewhere near Tampa last I heard. So because her sister married Italian, that gives her supposedly some sort of networking advantage. Woo hoo! So you are telling me that I am supposed to be intimidated by that. I do remember that Nancy won a contest to be allowed to sing on television, on the TBN channel. So I am assuming that she did sing on TV at one time or another. Beyond that, I have not heard anything recently about her stellar career as a musician and recording artist.

Which Reminds Me

One of the few things that I can recall about Sue Is-Oh? is that one time when we all went to TGIF's after church one night and I made some comment about the extensiveness of the huge multi-page menu and Sue said that yes, it is a book. Yes, it is a book. Odd how one remembers these minor details and forgets many other things about these people.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, we sort of get it. It seems sort of logical that the Knights Templar would have first dibs in command of the mountain and its related tabletop projects, so the rest of us civilians will just have to wait until the information dribbles out of the secret chambers eventually. In the meantime, don't we all have our jobs to do and our places to keep? So what is your question? There is nothing that I would need to say about that. I don't really need you to explain that to me.

Which Reminds Me

At a time when I was living in Fullerton, Calif., I do remember that my roommate at the time, Laura Entz, was excessively fond of her cat, which shed hair all over the place, which I was not too crazy about, but when she moved out she took her cat with her, and any further details of the cat and its eventually ends you would have to get from her. I really don't know anything else about the cat. I might overheard some talk of the cat but no details come to memory, just that such cats shed hair all over the place and in my opinion should not be allowed in the kitchen where this particular cat loved to crawl all over the supposedly clean dishes left there to drain and in between the canisters and whatever else was placed on the canister. Maybe Laura knows something that I don't.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I might as well say that I do not think of New York City as a place of opportunity. I tend to think of that city as mostly overrun by immigrants and/or old money so obviously I cannot go there and hope to accomplish anything. New York is mostly a place to get chewed up and spit out, as anyone with half-a-brain could tell you. Besides which, you just told me that your plan is to extirpate all redheads from the American population, which also does not bode well for me. You would vigorously protest the systematic extirpation of yourself, but you would wholly endorse and condone the wholesale slaughter and/or enslavement of the redhead. You are Black Irish rounders masquerading as Episcopalian for such political purposes, needless to say. You told me that the redhead of New England is greatly endangered for these reasons. You cited Andrew Jackson as a prime example of fierce redhead who brutally killed British soldiers, not shooting until you can see their eyeballs as the story goes. You imagine that extirpating the fierce redhead of New England, the legacy of Andrew Jackson, will open the doors for the British monarchy to be reestablished in America and the colonial ties restored, where already the borders of Canada are in flux to the southward, or so you said. You told me that many of the redheads of New England are now exiled to Russia to escape these threats. You cited a redhead villainess of ancient times but I wasn't sure who you were talking about. I really haven't studied ancient history that closely that I would be able to follow that comment on the ancient redheads of merry old England. You say that redheads who marry non-redheads are free of the curse because their children will probably not be redheads, so they can be counted on to help betray their redhead sisters, because they really don't count as redheads under the curse. But even so, you don't explain what will happen to the occasional redhead that might occur in future generations, how their life conditions will continue to be degraded and deteriorate. And after all the redheads are gone, what then? Do you really think that will accomplish utopia? That will be interesting to see if you will really like what you get when the redheads are not here anymore.

Which Reminds Me

Years ago in California I once attended a Michael W. Smith concert at Knotts Berry Farm with several people whose names I cannot quite recall. The song he sang with Amy Grant says, "Friends are Friends Forever if the Lord's the Lord of Them," but even so those friendships obviously did not mean very much in the long run. If I cannot even remember their names, obviously they cannot realistically be expecting Christmas cards from me now. Maybe if I saw their names and photos in a phone book a la Trivial Pursuit I might remember something but then again maybe they just really weren't that important to me that I would want to be bothered with trying to remember what that was supposed to mean.

Which Reminds Me

It may seem strange how these boring people so relish the insulting of me, and then I remember that they chose me to be their anti-heroine, in contrast to, contrasting, as a foil to, their chosen heroine, that little cutesy-pie heroine whom they so love to puff in every way and whose every fault must be left unmentioned, and then it really does not seem so personal to me. It is really not about me at all. It is just all in your head, not mine. Sorry but I cannot oblige you too much that way, just because you were a high school classmate of someone whose name I don't even remember and whose existence is mostly a matter of indifference to myself. I just don't care what you might think about matters that you don't really understand anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do pity these peasant class Italian pizza dogs, Sue Is-Oh? and Lisa and Suzette and Rene, etc., but I consider myself on a higher level than that. I understand that it is hard for them to imagine what it means for me to have attended college and have other things on mind than just who has the best pasta recipe and what parties have they attended lately to which I am mostly not invited because I am not Italian and do not fit in with that crowd of utterly boring people, where even if I were invited I would have to endure the unending insults of the mostly Italian peasants there. I do not appreciate these efforts to drag me down to the level of them. I am a Christian acting in Christian love so I really cannot say what I really think about them. That would so unchristian of me to accuse them of something of which they may or may not be innocent.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember Jan Chance of Virginia Beach, who lived at the opposite end of the dorm floor the year that I was at Evangel College. But I immediately forgot about her after leaving there and could not care less about renewing that contact, ditto my former roommate Jan Green. How well I remember how Jan often tried to bait me into a fight. For example, she accused me of cheating at the board game we were playing, maybe Monopoly or Sorry or Clue or something like that, and I had to pull out the rules to show how I was going exactly by the rules which allowed my move even though she had perhaps not been aware of that, to avoid myself being slandered as a cheater. Win some, lose some. I do not wish to get into another fight with Jan in the future. Therefore, I will not be taking the bait of Jan. I will just be leaving Jan to rot in her own selfish grandiosity because, really, it just wasn't that important to me that I should sacrifice my emotional well-being to satisfy her prideful airs. Let her slander and defame me as much as she likes. None of Jan's nasty temper tantrums will matter in the long run because when I get to heaven y faith is placed in the salvation offered by Jesus, not in the caprices and trampy antics of trashy Jan.

Which Reminds Me

During my first job after college, at Vida Publishers, I took dictation for several distribution managers of the publishing company. As the typist, I must insert my middle initial to differentiate myself from the cc, which means "carbon copy" of that, according to Carol, who was my supervisor at the time. By the way, my middle initial is j, not that I want to discuss that with strangers. Anyway, I cannot remember much of that stuff, nor do I wish to be reminded of what your Dad, Jack, was ranting about on the tape recorder while having his nervous breakdown, prior to being fired by Ed, the imported French businessman who was brought in to reform the missionary culture of the place. Yes, well, times will change and the missionary culture of the times will fade eventually but perhaps slower than Ed and company would like to see. Just pushing people over the edge of a cliff sounds might sound like fun to you but I would just get in trouble if I tried to due that. And if I have to explain this to you in so many words, you are just too weird for words. I would rather just kill myself than try to explain that.

Which Reminds Me

I am now trying to remember whether we ever went bowling together back in the old days. Craig Bolingbroke's bowling scores will not get him off the hook on this point. Anyway, Pam and I were talking about typewriters, not bowling scores, so I am not sure how that other subject crept into the conversation in the retelling. Their somewhat flaky Loyolaties are now coming into better focus. Even so, I was never all that interested in participating in their behind-the-scenes insurrection. The Louisiana Purchase cannot be rescinded now so we are just stuck with this French-fried riff-raff in the Union. Even so, I should not be required to go there and muddy my sandals in that swamp. I think that Pam Roberts should be required to pay the price for her own conspiratorial affairs to which I was mostly not a party in the first place. Like I said, I do not see how anything good is going to happen to me today when the Roberts family has this hexed me this way with all of their Pammie-Puke curses.

Which Reminds Me

Many years ago at my first job after college, at Vida Publishers, after some time I was assigned a brand new IBM Selectric typewriter, color red. Pammie-Puke came by and saw that and complained loudly about how I was getting special privileges. A red typewriter, imagine that! She imagines that her redheadness should also merit a red typewriter, but she married a German bankrupt so no one is going to give her a red electric typewriter, especially not now. But of course Pammie-Puke complains about everything in regards to me. Nothing good can happen to me as long as this snarky little Pammie-Puke is counteracting it all with her curses against me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I generally recommend avoiding all contact with the shrill Italian hag, be her name Kathy or Joan. They look to me like they might be identical twins. I really cannot tell them apart, Joan and Kathy.

Which Reminds Me

I know of several persons named Sue, Susie, Suzette and/or Suzanne, so when you threaten to "Sue" me over that minor point, I really do fail to understand what you are getting at. Which "Sue" was from New York? Possibly more than one of these "Sue's" may have spent some unknown amount of time in New York although I can't say one way or another. Didn't Sue talk about her Norwegian heritage? Or also there was the Italian Sue, somewhat overweight, from also somewhere up there in that region. And didn't Italian Suzette talk about meeting her really Italy-Italian husband there? And then there are all the other "Sue's" and Susie's" of whom I know very little whom we met here in South Florida. I really do not want to be bothered with having to learn the details of "Sue's" New York connections of which I am not aware when it really does not matter to me in the long run. Susie was never that important to me that I would want to be bothered with learning the details of her in-law problematicals without being properly introduced. I already know that my name is NOT Sue and there is nothing that I need to prove to anyone in that regard.

Which Reminds Me

You should know by now that I always studiously avoid the Calabrian monstrosity. Shrill Italian hags are such a nuisance, always exuding such pompous airs of self-importance and yet being in themselves mostly empty and full of nothing much. I will kill myself before I will agree to be ruled by that hatefully shrill Italian hag. That is how I win that game.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit awkward, this useless Calabrian monstrosity here pretending to be something of importance when actually it is nothing. The Calabrian monstrosity certainly does put on such airs of self-importance and yet there is nothing in it, just nothingness. Shrill Italian hags are worse then useless to me. They are a nuisance and seem intent on preventing me from finding my rightful place in this life. I cannot trust anything they say and also cannot trust them with anything that I might say. So it is better that I get on with life absent any and all of this Calabrian nonsense.