Which Reminds Me

Yes, another interesting thing that I learned while doing my genealogical research on Ancestry.com was that my cousins have quite a few Downings in their family tree, on their other side. I do not see any Downings in my family tree. So, OK, fine, I had not noticed that until doing my research, and even so, I might never have had occasion to comment or to reflect further on this point, but for their being in quite a snit about painting themselves as "UP," come to think of it, now that you mention it.  As if I should care to hear more about that. I did see the movie "Up," but I have no desire for an address on Downing Street, that I should be bothered with election procedures. Besides which, I myself have endured lifelong teasing about my own name — no I am not a candy cane, no you may not eat me, no I am not necessarily going to taste sweet if you bite me — and duly shrugged it off as the silly unserious nonsense that it really is, so I am obviously NOT going to be sympathetic to these Downing claims of martyrdom rights on the point of name teasing, given that, anyway, nobody knew that on our side. Or at least I did not know. Maybe the genealogist consulted by my Dad's Aunt Julia would know about know something more about these things, but I did not know.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it really is very sad that Bevy stapled her own finger, but anyway, these matters are out of my control, certainly.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do I hope you were not expecting me to write you a blank check so that you can do whatever you want to do. That would not really seem fair, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I admit that I remember almost nothing about Tom or what his politics might be. Both he and Raymond had almost no vocabulary beyond words that start with F, so my mind goes blank when I think of them, although probably Tom has the advantage of being a little bit nicer than Raymond, besides which Raymond is dead so he is not available at present.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we could not help but wonder who is calling who a Hagar hoe/ After all these thousands of years of commingling, anyway, who is to say whether a Sarah by any other name is still a Sarah or a Hagar etc. ? Speak for yourself, whoever you may be, because, anyway, my train of thought was not going to go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that during college, one night I had a very vivid and elaborate dream in which I had flunked a test and was distraught wandering around school and various other things that I could not remember now, only that I was so distraught and depressed that after I woke up, it was several minutes before the realization came to me that it was only a dream and that I really did not need to be so depressed about that because that never really happened, it was only a dream.  

Which Reminds Me

Yes, perhaps I could have thought of a more diplomatic way to fend off the maid Mercedes' demands on my time and attention. She did not seem to have any sense of my needing to claim my own privacy rights and not being desirous of having to share every little detail of my future life plans with her. The way I did it made me seem as if I was trying to be her boss, when actually I was just trying to not be bullied by her, which was how that felt to me. Sorry, but I still don't feel like discussing my personal life with Mercedes. That just wasn't working for me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am somehow reminded that Mercedes was a maid of ours, who worked at our house for a few months, not really a full year. She was quite the spy, always hovering about every time you turn around, standing there trying to eavesdrop on our every conversation. That becomes very uncomfortable, to always have a spy hovering nearby.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see that you are wondering why I admittedly could not care less about whatever happened to Anita Stone from high school. I vaguely remember glimpsing her at my club but I do not recall her ever saying hello to me that I should be bothered to trouble myself on this point. Whatever. Needless to say. No one is expecting big-time Broadway star Anita to condescend to acknowledge our existence.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I can only be grateful to those who have helped me to get out of that blocked corner in which some people had left me and gone on their merry way. At least I can see now some things about that, even though certain stubborn blockheaded persons probably can never be trusted to see that, but whatever, at least I can sort of move on with my life in spite of those bumps in the road.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that years ago, while I was attending college, often when some people would get together and go out some place to eat off-campus, we would say that we would "go Dutch," meaning that we would pay our own way. So that was what it meant to "go Dutch." So when a bunch of us went to the Coco's coffee shop, I paid for my own order of onion rings.Of course, that had nothing to do with ethnicity.

That said, it should not be assumed that I would "go Dtuch" in every situation, especially when it comes to ethnicity. Actually,in that sense  I am NOT going to go Dutch. I am aware of there being some Dutch people here and there, especially in such places as Pennsylvania, but I do not consider myself in any way obligated to pay for their plate of onion rings, much less to go there. They should not be expecting me to go there, I have other plans for myself. 

Much less am I thinking to "go Dutch Reformed." You Dutch people eem nice, but I have other plans for myself. You were not invited to my life.    

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am somehow vaguely reminded of something that Jesus said, when he was talking about his busybody relatives who were being somehow demanding his attention. He somehow could not seem to remember who they were, or something like that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, another thing I learned while researching online was about my mother's Cousin Graden, who was said to be the model for a statue of an Indian chief that appears in a fountain somewhere in California. Yes, back in the old days we thought that we had a Native American ancestor somewhere back in our family tree but now that my mother has had her DNA tested, we are not so sure how that could be true. One would imagine that the DNA people would have reported at least a trace amount of Indian, but nothing. Should we try retesting? What does that say about the statue's artistic message? Was there some other meaning to that terminology? Hmmm.... Oh well, whatever, life is short and then you die.

Which Reminuds Me

Yes, the farm land was given to my grandmother's Uncle Winfred by his mother, although it is true that his sisters did retain mineral rights entitling them to royalties on natural gas, which is an entirely different subject. So every now and then my mother gets a little check for royalties on natural gas, which is not a huge amount, not like you could quit your job over that very tiny pittance, but certainly it is nice to have that little extra bit of money once in a while. But of course that is handled entirely by the law offices of the prominent attorneys of Texas. No reason to get bent out of shape over the personal lives of the other rights holders, when obviously the check will be in the mail whenever the lawyers decide.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing that my Mom's late Uncle Winfred and his wife Hazel had two daughters, but what their names were I really could not tell you. Only more recently, when I did my genealogical research on Ancestry.com, have I learned of the existence of Beverly and Patsy. Interesting how their names appear in the documentary evidence, even when I had not been aware of their existence, and even so, their existence does seem somewhat a matter of indifference to me, given that we are not very close to them and do not really have any reason to go there. 

There was that letter written by my grandmother reproaching her brother Winfred for keeping the farm and not giving his sisters any percentage of that, because his mother had left it to him, being the male and the nly son who stayed on the farm and worked the farm, so that made sense in a way, but anyway, that was my grandmother's emotional pain, not mine, and she died in the 1970s, so, now that the original farm has been demolished by a rock-crushing operation, the whole prospect of going there to see the farm again grows less and less desirable with every passing year. So if I never see them again, or am ever introduced in the first place, does not seem to matter very much.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, thanks for pointing out that Scotty Kid was the street nickname of Tommy Anderson, who wrote a book telling the story of his amazing conversion from street bum to missionary. As it happens, coincidentally, the Andersons, Tommy and his wife Hannah?, were co-workers of my great-grandparents in China, and also they have similar Hawaii connections, and also the Andersons appear occasionally in the diaries of great-grandmother going out to dinner with them in Pasadena probably in the 1940s. However, the Andersons took a Foursquare path whereas we were in the Assemblies, so we don't really have much occasion nowadays to compare notes with the Andersons.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I would agree that sometimes those 19th century travel writers, when observing persons and customs of cultures other than their own, were sometimes prone to say things that sound sort of strange and even oddly goofy to modern ears, indicative perhaps of primitive systems of thought that were not yet as refined as we are nowadays in our modern glory, and when you go back to the 16th and 17th or 18th centuries, you may find even more primitive things, although not really classifiable as a systematic theory, just some guys' offhand comments of the moment, not really the final word certainly. And if you can read that with a grain of salt, you can see how far we have come from those primitive days. But if you cannot read with a grain of salt, for example, the Rev. Clark's introduction to Scotty Kid's opus on street bums and Spanish Filipinos, then perhaps that is a matter of serious personal concern for you, whereas for us, we were barely aware of these ancient tomes until you brought them out of the oblivion and called them to our attention. We might have forgotten that if you had not made so much noise about it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was odd how, on the first day of high school, Heather Catto, the daughter of the U.S. ambassador, was there to greet me and announce to me me that my future prospects would be entirely dependent on whatever might be the opinion of those Italian people, the San Gio's, who, as we only later learned, work for the CIA. Ok, so at the age of 14 I sense, instinctively that they hate me, despise me, loathe me. Ok, so, fine. So that makes my life a complete. misery. Thanks, Heather, for nothing actually. Was I supposed to send the CIA a thank you card? But high schools is not forever. High school will end eventually and then perhaps I can be rid of them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, easy for you to sit there crowing about how I should follow the Yellow Brick Road, when actually there are several places claiming to be the Yellow Brick Road, none of which roads goes anywhere of any particular interest or relevance to me, as if I should have any reason to go there. With all of these competing claims, it is enough to drive you crazy I would imagine.  

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how convenient for Irene to have a powerful husband who can throw that off of her back and onto mine, so, yes, see if I ever speak to them again. Probably not. It would just be too dangerous for me to go back there again. I have no public defender to set things aright.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, It is sort of mystifying to ponder whatever Jeff's agenda might be, given that he lives in an alternate universe. I really have no comment on that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do sort of vaguely remember that one day at work when Irene unloaded a pack of scuttlebutt about the boss and his family. Was that a private conversation? Did I remember to repeat that to someone else? Who would I ask to verify such matters so completely outside of my view, that I would even be able to verbalize what did she say? And then shortly afterward Irene was fired and I was promoted to replace Irene Which on the one hand was somewhat flattering to me, and on the other hand made me a bit uneasy because of what Irene said, because she seemed like a nice person. I did not want to wish her ill, whatever her scuttlebutt problem might be. I am not sure how all these things go into circulation in the ozone layer. So am I having good luck or back luck? I don't know, I am not sure which.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I hardly think that science would be a subject of interest to me, given the tedious nature of the hypothesis building process. I doubt that I would excel in that subject, and thus I tend to look toward other fields of work or endeavor where I would have a better chance of succeeding, which definitely would not be science, whoever the teacher might be, I am too old to go back now and pick up where I left off. With so many scientific geniuses hardly working over there, I doubt that my expertise would be required anyway, so I will just simply step aside and let the geniuses build their robotic replacements that will render my services even less necessary than ever.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely had the impression that you were telling me a story about Pink Floyd's "Brick in the Wall," and what that means to the British versus what it means to us who are isolated from that and do not want that here. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it would sound sort of pharisaical and hypocritical for me to congratulate myself on having absolutely no, absolutely zero connection to and never was in any sense a fan of those rock stars one sees prancing about on stage, proclaiming their associations with the devil. I consider myself entirely indifferent to that, why should I bother to comment on persons who are so dangerous. Occasionally one sees glimpses of that on television but we do not waste our time and money on those worthless tickets. Needless to say. What would I know about some jetsetting Nicaraguans who go for that type of garbage? I really could not care less about that. I really do not see where this pointless conversation is going.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, it would sound so horribly pharisaical and hypocritical of me to express any actual thought of your horrible Filipino yippee yokels, always arf arf arf. I really would prefer not to have to suck up to your Filipino witches. Can't you just tell them to shut up? Filipino is nothing special to me. It was the husband of my great-grandmother's friend of the diaries who fought in the Spanish-American War of 1900 or thereabouts, but what happened to him? Did he go crazy/ I have enough problems already without the Spanish-American War being thrown around to haunt me. Who cares? That was a different era.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to be caught in a bind, how to pay for what is required while not having enough money to pay for that, how to live on a severely restricted budget, the old conundrum of the champagne tastes on a beer barrel pocketbook, in a manner of speaking. 1.5 trillion bottles of beer on the wall, you take one down, pass it around, 1.5 trillion bottles of beer on the wall, in a manner of speaking. Yes, so what else could go wrong? 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that someone was referring to the nun who was said to be teaching a class at our high school, to persons a class or two younger than myself, so perhaps recently hired because I ncver had any class with her or ever saw her, that I would have any comment on the subject of the nun. I just no idea what that meant.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I must confess that once or twice during high school I walked all the way home from school, I forget why. On one or the other occasion I was accosted shortly after leaving school grounds by Tony, who happened to be walking to his club that was down the street. He came up behind me and accused me of stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. Ok, fine. And then he chattered incessantly as he does until we parted ways shortly afterward, and there is nothing special to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember how profoundly shocked I was when you vehemently expressed your anger and jealousy because the company had granted to me a red typewriter whereas you had only the garden variety black or gray typewriter. And did I ask to be given this red typewriter? I had no thought of that mattering one way or another. A typewriter is just a typewriter, regardless of the color of it. Why so bent out of shape over nothing much?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing that joke about rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, but, yes, for what do I need that job. The Titanic does not survive, as we already know. Only a few lucky ones will find their places in the lifeboats, and the rest will go down with the ship. So what about that? I do not understand the question. Have you not read the book?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, having done my genealogical research on Ancestry.com, I see that my great-grandfather's sister, Sarah Laura, was married in 1903 to Mr. Thew. Not Mr. Threw, not sure why such a typo might be circulating in the ozone layer. He was Mr. Harry Clay Thew, and their children were Harold Thew and Mary Martha Thew. So, Ok, fine. What of that?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember being told that when I was four years old I scolded my Dad's Aunt Dora about her tobacco habit. I was certainly way too precocious at the age of four, I cannot deny that point. Aunt Dora, who was Uncle Joe's wife, was at the beach smoking a cigarette, which was somehow alarming to my 4-year-old mind. And I have yet to hear the end of the hullabaloo she created over that. They later divorced, so obviously my Dad's Uncle Joe had many personal problems. It is hard for me to understand why all this noise. It would seem somehow a bit of an overkill to slaughter a 4-year-old child in defense of your defenseless tobacco habit. Even the Surgeon General would agree with me on that point at least. 

Which brings to mind that our college had a quad of tobacco chewers, among whom was Al Moore. And what were we going to do with all of these vices? I was trying to forget them but they make too much noise.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that I should be grateful that I am in no way connected to the boring worthless tobacco slop of South Caroline. You can't smoke me. You can't drink me. You are just nothing to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it must be somewhat uncomfortable for you, always bumping into the four corners of your tiny little box. But I digress.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I had completely forgotten, why was there a joke about that overly expectant Hen Due. I completely forget the context of that. Too sick for me, perhaps, I do not remember anything. It only meant nothing to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that someone was asking me to comment on Patricia Cruz, who in high school, during 10th grade Miss Marken's honors English class, was sitting at my left hand due to the alphabetical order of things. You were saying that you think that she might be your distant cousin, but it was not clear what are you asking. Are you Nicky Cruz or Ted Cruz? Knowing that would help me to know what are you really asking me. And besides, how would either of those people have my phone number when obviously I have no personal connection whatsoever to those Teen Challenge wretches.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that years ago Walter Martin was the reigning expert on cults and the various details of differentiating their various belief systems, and if you got to that church early you could attend his Sunday morning class on that topic, although I never really did that, was only aware of that option. However, Mr. Martin died more than 30 years ago and nowadays nobody seems to be really keeping track of the various cults and what they are up to. Everybody wants to be the nice guy and nobody wants to have to say those divisive things that leave the cults out in the cold. Everybody is trying to bend over backward to be inclusive of all humanity so I am not sure why there would be any further reason for them to complain about that in future. Everyone is just trying to get along for now, until death do us part, although a more timely separation might be preferable.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that someone, perhaps my mother, was musing on the sad condition of those people, and lamenting that perhaps their mothers don't teach them anything. But that was only an abstract thought expressed in passing, not an application for a teaching credential. Some people just never learn so why are we wasting our breath on someone else's backhanded commentary? So mangled I can barely recognize the original concept. So why bother?

Which Reminds Me

Oh, ha ha ha! Is little weasel-hypocrite Tony lecturing me about something? Come to think of it, he never did mention whether he is Moslem or belongs to one of those Ali Baba spin-off cults. There were several persons in our high school who professed themselves as belonging to the Baha'i faith, but I do not remember ever discussing such a point with Tony, that there would be any reason for me to be getting all of these emails from Tony. He just wasn't that important to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what was the name of that guy, I forget, only that he was telling us a story about his exotic foreign woman convert, which, anyway, says something about where his head is at, although in other regards, was basically a somewhat trite and cliched, quite boring account of where his head was at, so whatever. That's not where my head was at. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I can wish that I had applied myself and concentrated on improving my math and science skills during high school, especially in Mr. Schoenberg's trigonometry explanations, rather than be distracted by the idiotic chattering of Tony who was sitting directly behind me at that time due to the alphabetical order of things. Thus, I rightly consider myself not qualified for candidacy to view your advanced science lessons. Your headset gear would probably be wasted on my undisciplined mind, probably that is what you are trying to say. Ok, so, whatever. I have this in common with millions of people on this planet, probably, so nothing special about that. No wish crying over spilt milk. What's done is done.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, someone is reminding me that my grandfather was a card-carrying Mason, although he never advanced very far in that, did not attend many meetings, just kept the membership card in case, he said, that he might need to check in to that old folks' home. We don't really know what he meant by that. We don't know anything about it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember reading the diaries of great-grandmother, in which the personage of my Dad's Uncle Joe appears lamenting his personal problems, which is not something to be discussing on a public forum. I don't remember ever discussing anything of a personal nature with those people, that there would be something for me to discuss with the Masonic golf team,, who certainly consider themselves free to be throwing Masonic golf balls all over the place, but even so they were probably not seriously expecting poor little powerless me to champion their irrelevant cause to which I consider entirely indifferent. I really don't care.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember during high school that I heard a story about someone who was refusing to file his income tax return, which would seem so ridiculous, but I am forgetting who that person was or other details of that story, only that someone was not paying his taxes. Well, since that time there always seems to be some crazy person obsessively hammering on the point of paying taxes, even though that was not us, we always file our taxes every year. Even when you live outside of the country there is a way to you pay your taxes. So I really don't see why the tax cheats think that we are going to use us as an excuse for their tax tizzy.