Which Reminds Me

When I was in Kindergarten attending the Lutheran Christian School there one day we were each given a huge piece of paper and told to lay down on the paper and a friend or the teacher drew the outline of our bodies on the paper. Then we colored in our bodies. I tried the white crayon but nothing appeared on the paper. Then I tried a brown or black crayon and that worked well for some other classmate but the teacher reprimanded me because that was not me. The black or brown crayon was not representative of my true skin color. Duh! So then I was instructed to use the orange crayon. Ok, so that was a good compromise even though I have a hard time thinking of my skin as orange and not actually whitish with brownish spots. It is true that orange-based shades of makeup work better for redhead-type skin come to think of it. Pink just clashes in my opinion. So the orange crayon was what I used to finish my drawing of me. I don't remember if I was allowed to redo my drawing or had to just make do with a mismatched arm or leg. I don't remember. I did not seem that important to me at the time. It was a picture that got thrown out in the trash anyway.

Upon Further Research

Digging around in the public records we see that our ancestor, Hugh Calkins, came to America in about 1640 and was living at Norwich, Conn., at about the same time that Thomas Tracy was living there, having apparently abandoned all claims to ownership of Sunderley Castle and the English crown of Egbert, whatever that means. So perhaps Hugh and Thomas met there in Norwich but that was 350 years ago. In our generation we really don't live in the same town or have the same ideas about how things ought to be done. Debbie Tracy only wishes she had the Tioga County connections of Charles Chapin Tracy, the missionary in Turkey who was a faculty member at Anatolia College. The California Tracys are obviously gold-diggers all the way back, not really with any missionary breeding in their bones, so they would not be able to understand what we are talking about if you want to be so Middle Ages about it, a time not really so idyllic in case everyone has forgotten. This is not the Norman Conquest. You only wish you were fighting on the right side of history.

Which Reminds Me

I remember when I was in high school I used to be thinking about things at times when maybe I was in the shower or looking out the window at school and the answer to whatever I was pondering would sort of come to mind and I sort of felt it was like God would be telling things, not for public consumption, just a personal thing. Someone was asking me why I don't ask them to answer my questions and I think I told them that I am really not troubled by a lot of questions because I think I know some things and what I don't know is perhaps not mine to know. Often I just can't know and some things are just not revealed and remain mysteries that cannot really be resolved with the limited information at hand. Thus, I really do not see the need to get all perturbed and worked up about things that I don't know the answers to. Sometimes I just don't need to know everything and I don't know why this should be a problem when obviously lots of people are simply unwilling to admit their own limitations and mental blocks and want to pretend that they know everything even when actually they don't know.

Which Reminds Me

These people are so exaggerated they make me feel like a murderer. Talk about the ultimate guilt trip. I did have some fights with my little sister who was asking for it but I never had any murderous intentions. I remember that when I was maybe 10 years old we ran up the stairs to the rooftop of the house that we were living in and my sister fell off the roof. Nobody pushed her off, certainly not me. She just was stretching and straining to see the fireworks or something that could be seen there and it is hard to describe the layout of the roof on paper but she stepped backward and fell off the roof. She was not really hurt very much, amazingly, just a little dizzy and had to lay down for a while. We should never have gone up on the roof without our parents being home to supervise the roof play times as they usually did but anyway I did not do anything nefarious in that regard. I seem to remember that the two Wicked Witch daughters of Everett Wilson were there but I don't remember whether they did some pushing and shoving. It does seem like the type of thing the murderous Wilsons would do because they really are malicious but I really can't speak for them. Of course my sister is never going to clarify this point because she really likes taking all the favorable attention all for herself and shutting me down. She likes having everyone on her side. In fact, I am not exactly sure that I actually have a sister. Sometimes she so much acts like an adopted member of the family we almost forget.

Did I Forget To Mention?

Of course it goes without saying that the Nelsons have nothing to say about my personal income taxes, whether I use HR Block or not, just as I have no clue about who does their personal income taxes or why the IRS would have a problem with them or be researching the distant connections of the Nelsons nor have the Nelsons volunteered any assistance in resolving the HR Block income tax puzzle that continues to puzzle. I really have no idea why I think they would have some connection to that odd incident of the HR Block involvement in my personal income taxes but anyway I no longer live anywhere near those people in Central Florida who were running the HR Block office there so there is no reason for me to imagine that there would be another problem with them even though I have yet to go back to HR Block for any assistance in matters of puzzle solving. It would be nice if the Nelsons weren't so Dinamarca-ish in their dealings with persons not their Dutch enemies but whatever. They don't work for me so I can't really fire them.

Which Reminds Me

After Susie was fired here she packed her belongings in her car and drove out to California where her sister and brother-in-law were living at the time. Before leaving she gave me a telephone number where she would be. A couple of months or so later I did call her and was surprised to learn that this was the phone number for the home of Susie's cousin Loren Wyrick and his wife at the time, Silla. They have been divorced for a long time now but at the time Susie said that Loren was doing police work while Silla had finished her master's degree and was writing screenplays for television. Susie said that Loren was angry because after Silla had gotten her master's work done they had agreed that she would support him while in doing his master's work but apparently things were not going as planned. She apparently liked being supported and so there was no incentive to help Loren advance beyond his blue-collar police work so that he too could achieve a professional level of work. Loren was stuck in a comparatively low level of grunt work, having to work strange shifts and being in and out at odd hours, said Susie. Also, Loren did not like Silla's friends who he thought were spending way too much time over at their house so that when he would get home from work there would be all these people in the house, Sharon chatting about movies or that rude and boorish Debbie schlepping in and out with her laundry to use their washing machine because apparently her apartment did not provide laundry facilities, which is somewhat hard to believe, or else she just liked having an excuse to go over there. So that is the situation that Susie described to me on the telephone, not that I asked. These things just pour forth from Susie's heart when feels like talking, but she doesn't know who Warren is so she doesn't remember his ever being there. Ok, so generally speaking this tells me that there would be no reason to go there as I really don't like those people very much anyway. They spend too much time yapping in undecipherable code language that I don't understand and, anyway, I suspect that I am not missing anything important by not going there. They are just there but I really don't know them in a personal way. They can't be fired because they don't work for me so I just never go there.

Dancing Tricks

Which reminds me that during college at SCC there was a professional ballerina at our school, her last name was Cheney, who performed once or twice during the chapel services. She was quite good at that. I cannot imagine how people can do all those backflips and somersaults and whatever. I was never even remotely interested in that. I really don't care very much one way or another about the ballerina thing in church. It is not my place to say anything about that so I don't recall saying anything about that. She married Loren Wyrick who is Susie Stewart's cousin but they are divorced now. Susie once said that she is surprisingly foul-mouthed for a supposedly Christian ballerina but I would only be speculating if I said that it would seem that the Stewarts did not like her very much. I doubt that the ballerina dancing was the key to their marital problems, however, as that was well known long before they ever got married. It was probably a wider conflict of cultures, something about the morbid couch potato obsession with movies and television screenwriting as described by Susie, not that I would have a clue about what type of culture if any would describe lowlife slob Loren Wyrick either, for that matter, or if there ever was any thinking going on in his empty head from the start. I have no idea. He never said anything to me nor did I volunteer any opinions about them that I can recall. I really am not interested in taking sides in that battle as I don't really know enough about it. We met his mother in Colorado but he was never present.

We are not unaware that she is trying to position herself as a martyr for the cause of dancing but we really don't care that. The martyrdom was mostly a fantasy of her own making, not really based on anything I ever said. I personally don't see how dancing is so important when millions of people are starving to death in China. I mean, she was just never that important. Just having the surname Cheney does not mean that your father is the vice president of the United States of America that I would know of.