The end for now . . .

And now, the end is here

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain . . .

I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

***

And so, I think it’s time to take my blog back and get back to my mostly light and fluffy blog posts about life, the universe and everything – from the perspective of one person, one parent, one wife, one friend, one woman, one citizen, one taxpayer, one voter, one American, one Mid-Western girl twice removed – from me.

Political activism is exhausting.  Who knew?

It’s not to say that I won’t follow up on the lunacy that I’ve learned is going on behind closed doors, just down the street, in the classrooms and meeting rooms in my little town, but for now, I rest.  I’ve learned a lot.

I’ve learned that the students in our towns are phenomenal people who support their classmates and have integrity, character, compassion and a strong sense of pride.

I’ve learned that the parents of those kids are intelligent, respectful, civil and neighborly.  With very few exceptions, those who engaged in discussion on this blog have done so in the spirit of healthy debate.  Kudos to you all and thank you for your contributions.

I’ve learned that no matter how often the mainstream media and so many of our public figures like to espouse their anti-American rhetoric — we are still, as a country, on the whole, flag-waving patriots who support our soldiers and embrace the principles of freedom for which those soldiers sacrifice to protect.

I’ve learned that the common sense and common decency of the common man has little chance of defeating the bureaucracy of big unions.  I’ve also learned that the Massachusetts Teachers Association will bankrupt every town and every city  in this state before we finally question and challenge their existence.  Talk about the power of the machine . . .

I’ve learned that it is true that one voice can be heard and can make a difference.

I’ve learned that the misguided, misplaced voices and actions of two teachers can have profound and lasting effects on not only their own community, but on the world.  And how sad and terribly unfortunate that they have so poorly [mis]represented their peers, because . . .

I’ve learned that there are far more teachers in this country (and I heard from teachers from all corners) who honor, respect and take very seriously the responsibilities of their chosen profession than those who put their own interests first.  These teachers work hard every day to uphold the basic principles of putting their students first, of teaching and not preaching, of educating and not indoctrinating, of facilitating a student’s ability to learn how to think and not what to think.  There are great teachers here and elsewhere who I respect a great deal.

I’ve learned a lot.  Thank you for coming along for the ride.

I got a guy for that

The other day we decided it was time to turn on the air conditioning since three or four consecutive days of weather in the 70s (creeping towards and most certainly reaching well into the 80s in the sun) was forecast and our house is not entirely well-suited for open windows and cross-ventilation.  So, I adjusted the program to change the times and desired temperatures for the air conditioning.  See, last year, I was in the as yet undiagnosed throes of menopause with no hormone replacement therapy and when I tell you that the air conditioning program reflected same – I’m talking 62 degrees at night!  The program needed adjustments.  Finished, I flipped the little trusty switch over to COOL.

The fan kicked on in the cellar and air started to trickle through the vents.  There is a vent directly beneath the stool where I sit at my computer at the kitchen counter and I can feel the air on my toes.  The air was, well, not cold.  It wasn’t hot, but if I called it cool I’d be exaggerating its value.  Time to call on “the man”.  My man can do anything house-related.  He’s a Super House-Hero.  When something at the house goes awry, I muster up my damsel in distress voice and call out to my Super House-Hero and in no time at all (well, sometimes it’s quite a bit of time if he’s in the middle of an online poker tournament or in the bathroom or asleep on his chair or . . . well, you get the point), he lands by my side having donned his Super House-Hero tights and cape to save the day.  [Note to self: do not conjure up remarkably clear visual images that you do not wish to carry with you for all the remaining days of your life.]

So, Marty had me turn the switch to OFF and then back to COOL while he stood outside by the big air conditioning box machine thingy (“compressor” I think it is).  Not a peep.  It sat silent.  It had the unmitigated gall to sit there, all pomp and circumstance, obtrusively visible, arrogant on its concrete throne and do nothing.  Nada.  Nichts.  Super House-Hero swiftly checked fuses and other obvious potential maladies.  He then proclaimed it beyond his vast super powers.

We’d have to call a guy for this.  I asked Marty if he has a guy.  Marty always has a guy.  Marty was born and raised on the Cape and he is in the trades.  He’s got a guy for everything.  If he doesn’t have a guy, he can get a guy from one of his guys.  Marty had no guy.  Imagine . . . an heretofore unfamiliar situation.  No guy.

It just so happens that I have a friend who married this wonderful man a few years ago who owns a very successful HVAC business.  I sent a text to my friend and in less than two minutes, I made arrangements for her husband to come over on Saturday to take a look at our air conditioning situation.

I’ve been here for 12 years and I have finally arrived.

I’ve got a guy for that.

Stand behind your stupidity

I think every car should have to have the driver’s cell phone number visibly posted on it.  See, then when the driver does some amazingly stupid or rude thing, you could just call them on their cell phone and give them what-for.

I’d be willing to post mine because I might be less apt to cut someone off or not let someone pull in front of me in traffic – not that I would EVER do such things!

How much do I love being on an entrance ramp to a highway and some imbecile in front of me comes to a complete stop before they are able to determine how and when they will merge onto the highway?  I just want to scream, “How are you going to merge with cars doing 60 from a dead stop, you asshat?!?!”

Now that we’re nearing summer on Cape Cod, we will have more than our fair share of nincompoops on the road with which to contend.  Love the tourist dollars – hate the tourist terrorism.  And sometimes it’s not just the tourists driving around like blind mice in mazes, it’s the idiot locals who make boneheaded moves that practically get us all killed.  Here’s a personal favorite: driving on a road with minimal to moderate traffic – traffic is moving along nicely with no stops/starts at around 35-40 mph – and some fuzznut in front of me slams on the brakes to let a car turn onto the road in front of him!  In stop and go traffic, it’s a nice gesture.  In regularly moving traffic, it’s tantamount to throwing a banana peel on the road in Mario Karts!  All of us behind Captain Douche Monkey up there have to unexpectedly slam on our brakes to avoid becoming backseat drivers of the car in front of us . . . but isn’t it nice that some car who could have pulled out on their own in approximately 8.7 seconds got to get a jump on their errands?

See my point?  If that guy had a cell phone number posted, I’d share my wisdom on the subject.

Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, some just gargle.

Spring was here . . . sort of

I know the rest of the country has suffered through a really tough winter, and much of New England is still bailing water out of their cellars this spring.  But this year, for the first time in 12 years, winter on Cape Cod was sort of just “typical” and relatively mild.  Also, for the first time in the 12 years I’ve lived here, we seem to be having a spring.  Now the one thing you can usually count on when you live on Cape Cod is that you simply cannot count on the weather.  And we NEVER have spring.  We have winter – which consists on the Cape of a lot of cold rain and a few snow  storms – until well into April.  We might get one or two days that let you know that winter may be getting tired of holding on and summer is going to be able to win the battle in the not-too-distant future, but mostly we just get day after day of clouds and cold rain.  The weather on the Cape is far more like the Pacific Northwest than it is like New England.

We never even have buds on the trees until early May and we don’t see leaves on the trees until the end of May.  Daffodils and Forsythia brave the weather in April but you wonder why they bother.

Well, this year, Cape Cod had two glorious weeks of beautiful weather between the other weeks of rain in March.  There are already buds on the trees, the grass is already green and we are really truly into spring.  Yesterday was a stunning day.  The kind of day that, when you were a kid in school, you sat there all day looking out the window and couldn’t wait for recess so you could sit on a swing or on the monkey bars and feel the heat of the sun warm your hair and you would squint for the first time in months.  Or in college, you definitely blew off classes on a day like yesterday and everyone would meander around the quad.  The boys would play frisbee and kids would blast music out of their dorm windows (like “We Will Rock You” – I’m dating myself, aren’t I?).  The girls would lay on blankets and read.

Yep.  It was the type of day that makes your insides smile.

Today, it’s back in the forties and it’s likely only going  to get up into the fifties.  It’s supposed to stay this way for about the next week.  Back door cold front they say.  It’s my experience that cold fronts in New England never enter through the back door.  They charge right through the front door like the FBI raiding Waco.

Spring has a way of making me feel nostalgic and new at the same time.  I guess that’s what it’s supposed to be.  It’s the bridge between extremes and it’s all about new beginnings and all that.  I suppose it makes me nostalgic because I spent the first 17 years of my adulthood in Florida and spring and fall are barely recognizable there.  When you live there, you can decipher the seasons, but you’d be lying if you said you really experience the change of seasons.  So my recollections of spring take me back to childhood in Illinois.  I love the weather in Florida and I’ll always miss the sunshine and warmth.

It took a long time, but now I cherish the change in seasons and love the appreciation I have gained for the beautiful days of each season.