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.