Which Reminds Me

During my first year at SCC, Kelly Noonan lived across the hall and became very close friends with my roommate, Barbara Demers. I remember one day Kelly telling us that her real father was a famous and wealthy Hollywood star. I think I did ask what his name was but she did not want to say so I did not ask that question again. Maybe she told Barbara but I don't know. Anyway, it wasn't that important to me. She did say that he was a very mean and nasty person and she felt abused or something sort of along that line, so this helps us understand why Kelly has problems. We sympathize with the victimized rich girl but we really don't understand. That is about all I would be able to recall about that. Sorry but if you are looking for a source of information on Kelly, Barbara would be a much better choice for you.

Kelly played guitar and sang duets or backup vocals for Karen Lafferty so she probably has an "in" over at Maranatha Music but I would not know very much about that. Kelly did not come back the next semester. I don't know what happened to her. I never heard.

Deep Dialogue

Person 1: "Well..."
Person 2: "That's a deep subject for a shallow mind."
Person 1: "Uh, yes..."

Which Reminds Me

I am suddenly reminded of the nicely bound volume containing two books by Mark Twain, "Tom Sawyer" and "Huckleberry Finn," contained in a slipcover for protection, sitting on our bookshelf when we were children. And how could a household spy miss that? My mother recommended that we read these books and why not? Did mother not once take a college class on children's literature? Ok, so I did read these books containing a somewhat humorous account of the outlandish pranks pulled by Tom Sawyer even on his own parents who thought him dead while he was actually out spelunking with the town's worst rascals, those ne'er-do-wells with whom they probably would have preferred him not to associate. And of that juvenile delinquent Huckleberry Finn traveling along the Mississippi River on a flimsy raft with runaway slave Jim and a couple of strange characters. Yes, I did read these books, and also "Pudd'nhead Wilson" which was required reading in high school English class. Beyond that I cannot say that I am widely read in Mark Twain literature, just some bits and pieces here and there, some seen on television, enough to know something of the controversies surrounding Samuel Clemens.

Yes, I vaguely recall someone asking me about this but I cannot claim to have read Twain's Life on the Mississippi, although I do believe one of our high school teachers lectured on Twain in class in connection with our assignments, explaining how he took his pseudonym from the terminology of steamboat navigators to measure the depth of the water. The term "mark twain" meant two fathoms or somewhere around 12 feet deep.

Even so, you are not entitled to pose as the prim and proper New Englander  Louisa May Alcott who severely criticized Twain. You are an imposter. We all have our opinions about books and Alcott might have a good point in some respects. You cannot take Mark Twain's example too seriously without suffering ill consequences, especially if you are poor like me. Yet you would find it very difficult to study American literature without at some time or another touching on the subject of Mark Twain and his many books and huge influence on 19th century life and literature. At the same time, there are many modern authors who would be doing life in prison if they actually did the things they write about. I mean, book titles with the word "Killing" have a certain edgy sound and yet if you really did that you would be very sorry.

So?

Which Reminds Me

Years ago when we lived in El Salvador the only place to play miniature golf was at the Intercontinental Hotel. Our family might have gone there two or three times to play miniature golf but that is very dim in my mind. Maybe I did see high school classmates there at the time but my mind draws a blank on that point. If one of them had said hello to me, now that would have been something to remember, but I do not recall them having acknowledged my existence on the planet at the time and thus it probably would have seemed wiser to me to say nothing and leave them to do their thing. After all, their appearance when viewed on campus during the ninth grade was as like unto druggies out of Woodstock. I am not accusing anyone of drugs. It would not be right for me to say that anything about drugs. I am just saying their appearance in my eyes resembled that of hippies right off a commune doing their own thing, which after all was the '70s mantra. At the time I considered myself too conservative to associate with that sort of radical element. I did not even own a pair of jeans until much later. Probably I was a little too square at the time for my own good but that is how it was in the ninth grade.

Which Reminds Me

My family is composed mostly of conservative Republicans, at least most of the ones of whom I am aware. Thus it is puzzling to see the bumbling gold-diggers of Arkansas imagining that we would be impressed with their posturing in this Clintonesque fashion, as if we would appreciate them serving us up on a platter for the delectation of the Democratic Party machine. That is not what we are here on this planet to do in case they forgot their missionary values for the sake of political currency, which does sometimes happen. Democrat or Republican, all political parties in creation are supposed to function for the glory of God, even if they at times grope erratically in their blindfolded way. Do they have an actual point or do they just like to hear themselves talk? This is a valid and appropriate question that they should be asking themselves.

Which Reminds Me

During the year that we were on furlough in 1970 I recall that my Dad got permission to use a song track that was used by a professional singer on his album. My Dad sang this song at our itinerary services. I think it was called "Millions Dying" and it was talking about the millions of people who are dying without Christ while we minions squabble about nothing much. I recall us visiting the Yeary's church in Fullerton and my Dad had the song track and was explaining about how he got permission to use it and so on and I don't know if I am imagining this or if I really do recall that Max Yeary was making some snarky jokes about the track and about my Dad only being an imitator of the professional singer, and how melodramatic the song sounded to him, all that exaggerated bellowing about millions of people dying without Christ when obviously God does not need us to help him, or at least that was Max's opinion. Yes, and like Max's sermons are not full of bits and pieces gleaned from the Professional Preacher's Encyclopedia of Sermon Anecdotes? Yes, I tend to think so.

Which Reminds Me

I do not recall anyone caring very much about the idiotic babblings of high school classmate Maria Younes Smith, or at least I never did. Just because her last name was Smith, that would have meant nothing to me in high school as I was not aware of the existence of any Smiths in my family tree. It is only in the last 10 years or so that I have become aware of the existence of the Smiths in my family tree who lived in Pennsylvania. And yet Smith is the most common surname on the planet so even with that knowledge I still doubt that Maria Smith had any family connection to me or any distant cousins of mine. I seriously doubt that Maria Smith could have had any connection to me whatsoever. So just seeing her horrible snarky face around high school campus meant nothing to me. I really don't care what happened to Maria Smith. I never really care that much about those people. I mean there is a limit. We pay tuition for schooling, not for lifelong harassment by that hideous Younes dog. Maria Smith is just a horrible and disgusting person and I would punch her lights out immediately if I could ever figure out how to do that.