Dumb Ass Club

DUMB ASS CLUB I received a copy of the following article and it was very difficult to read because of small type and the print was old. I re-typed the article thinking I would use it for humor to pass along on the net. I found the article humorous and deemed it to be true without much thought. I grew up in that era (graduated from high school in 1957) and never saw that in my home. Unfortunately, I never gave it much thought and just accepted the article at face value. Luckily I googled the article thinking I could use it for some humorous writing. The Good Wife's Guide Housekeeping Monthly 13 may 1955 Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home ad the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed. Prepare yourself. Take 25 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh- looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary peopl (sic) Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Gather up school books, toys. paper etc. and then run a dust clothe over the tables. Over the cooler months of the year, you should prepare a fire for unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order and it will give you a lift to. After all, catering for his comforts will provide you with immense personal satisfaction. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb there hair, and if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimise (sic) all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. Be happy to see him. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him. but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax. Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit. Don't greet him with complaints and problems. Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice. Don't ask questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him. A good wife always knows her place. After re-typing, I googled the article and found it to be a hoax based on the attitude of the times, but over stating the issue. Evidently there was no such magazine as "Housekeeping Monthly". I think this is a great example of the how we all live our lives with false information.

NAIVETY OR PREJUDICE

P.N. Abelson I was raised in Utah. Smack dab in the middle of Utah. The city of Orem, the county of Utah in the state of Utah. Smack dad in the middle of Mormonism. But more than that, smack dab in the middle of Vanilla U.S.A. We were all alike. Clones of each other. White, conservative, middle Americans. I was not raised with blacks, Jews or anyone else that was different, except for a few Catholics. I was, however, not raised to be prejudiced, just naive. That is what I thought then. The road was long and dusty. My new old car that I had just washed was getting filthy. It was 1962. I was in the Air Force and I had just bought a 1951 ford 4-door sedan. We were in Northern Louisiana, stationed at Barksdale AFB, just outside of Bossier City. It was a nice warm Saturday morning and we were on our way to Flag Lake for a day of sun and fun. There were three of Danny O Clark, naturally nick named Doc, Dennis Anderson, the DA and myself, Stan Beatty. I was referred to as Stosh, (polish for Stan). I never new whether they thought I was a polish joke or they just needed a nick name for me. Either way, it did not matter. We were Air Force buddies having good times together. There used to be 4 of us. The fourth being Paul N. Abelson, the Jew. Yep, that's right , his nick name was "the Jew". He had been and I guess still was part of our group. He was good with the name. He was from New York, came from money and we always kidded him about being a rich New York Jew. It was all in jest. But this week we were mad at him and he knew it, so he drove his own car. The previous week was the last week of the month and we were broke. At least the three of us were broke, Paul always had money. On Friday Paul had come to the rest of us and wanted us to go into Bossier City with him to see his girl friend or at least a girl he wanted to be his girl friend. She was a waitress at one of the local bars. We were as I stated earlier , Broke. So we told him no, we didn't have any money. He said. "don't worry about it". We thought that meant he would buy us a beer or two and we could enjoy the evening, so we went. However, that was not the case. What Paul meant by "don't worry about it" was that it was all right with him that we sat and watched while he drank his beer and talked to the girl. We were dry and furious. On the way home we did not say a word. For the next week we shunned him and when he came around, we would say "here comes Paul N. Abelson, He's a Jew". On this day we were on our way to the company picnic at the lake. We told Paul we were not going, hoping he would not go. However, when we arrived at the lake his car was there, all dusty and dirty like mine. Doc and the DA had gone on ahead of me and I was alone when I walked by Paul,s car. I, coming from my vanilla and naive background, thought it would be funny to draw a swastika in the dust on his car. I walked on to the lake, giggling to myself about my naïve joke. I had no idea what reaction I expected but his reaction was not what I wanted. When Paul saw the swastika on the back of his car he became instantly mad and afraid. Mostly afraid. No not afraid, dammed scared. Fear like I have never seen before. I could see it in his eyes, he was looking everywhere, afraid to leave his back open I was instantly ashamed of the coward I had just created. Not Paul, me. I was ashamed of myself. I never realized what the symbol meant, what it stood for, what the Jewish people had gone through, what they were still going through, what my stupid naive gesture really meant to Paul. I was the coward. I could not do the right thing. I could not confess to Paul that I did it and it was stupid and that I was sorry. I never told him. I left him thinking that in fact there were Jew haters near by. I should have been a man and confessed. I didn't. To this day the guilt still haunts me. Paul, if for some reason you ever read this, I sincerely apologize. I do not ask for forgiveness. I believe what I did was unforgivable. For what it is worth, I really learned in that moment what prejudice really is and have tried to keep prejudice out of my life.

PROCRASTINATION AND SALVATION

The last class was over and Amy rejuvenated me again. I was going to write during the class break. I had lots of ideas and lots of time. It was going to be easy. I would get up and write every morning just before my wife and I walked the dogs. Of course I didn't need to on the first morning because I needed that morning to put my thoughts together. It was Wednesday and I had plenty of time to get started. It is almost Christmas and I have still not written and I have not started the diet I was going start The guilt is staring to weigh heavy on my mind. I think about it almost constantly. Every where I go, I think..."I could write about that." But when I get home I've lost the idea. Maybe I should do what Amy suggests and carry a small notebook. I'll get one next time I am at the store. Christmas has come and gone and I have not written anything. Sunday after Christmas. I think I will read a while. Something technical. I will browse through Dr. Dean Edell's book on Medical problems. Here's something interesting. Older people do not need to lose weight unless they are heavily obese. In fact if one is not careful, it could do more harm than good. Wow, that is a relief. Boy am I glad I did not harm my body with a diet. I am not going to sweat the diet. I will just enjoy myself. That is great, I feel better already. But that does not solve my guilt about not writing. I really do need to write. We start class next week. I know. I'll go to Barns and Noble and look for some of the books that Amy suggested. Fabulous, they have "writing Down the Bones". I'll get that and use it to jump start my writing. What about my poetry? Amy said there was a magazine about writing and poetry. Maybe they have that. Wow, what a break. Here it is. "Poets and Writers" And a poetry book.."Poetry East". I will get them both. New Years Eve. I read the Poetry book.. Nuts..This is the kind of poetry that I do not like or maybe do not understand. Listen to this "Pied Beauty" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. GLORY be to God for dappled things For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls, finches' wings; Landscape plotted and pieced, fold, fallow and plough, And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange, Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow: sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change. Praise him Now, what is that all about? I obviously need to be better read. Or do I? Yes I do and I need to read more Poetry. I will read more poetry later. I decided to read the Poets and Writers magazine. I found an interesting article titled "On not Writing" by Gabriel Cohen. Boy that sounded like me, I read that one. It really wasn't me. He is a writer, I am not. But I could Identify with the article. Cohen describes the different ways he decides not to write. He discusses his frustrations and his inability "to apply the proverbial seat of his pants to the chair". I found my salvation toward the end of his article with the following statement. He writes "I've finally come to realize that this period of not writing is not a problem, not some obstacle that keeps me from working. It is a necessary part of the writing process". I was saved. Actually twice saved. Not by a friend that said "do not worry about it", but first by a prominent Dr., telling me that since I am older I do not have to worry about a diet and second by an actual writer telling me that my procrastination is part of the writing process. Hallelujah........... Maybe I can sleep tonight and face Amy in the first class without feeling guilty. But...... then I decided to read "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg and she made me feel guilty again. It only took three chapters and I started to write. I wrote this piece. Good or bad, ..........................Thank you Natalie. p.s - Natalie Goldberg's favorite Poem as she states later in the book is "God's Grandeur" by none other than Gerard Manley Hopkins and it is right across the page from "Pied Beauty". I found it incredible that I would pick a Poetry book with her favorite poem and then make light of the poetry. I really do need to learn more about poetry.

SELF

POT POORY Self, your have become a Pot Poory person. A laid back, educated but unintelligent Pot Poory person. Oh, you did go to college and you did get a degree. Hence, you are educated. This fact should never be confused with intelligence. Yes, a lot of people have thought of you as intelligent and even some have said you are wise. But you are not intelligent and certainly not wise. It was easy for you to get a college degree. Your degree did not require intelligence. It only required you to become a parrot. Awwk, you regurgitated what the instructor spat out or what the books said. You in fact regurgitated everything and thought nothing. Yes you are a Pot Poory. You graduated. You graduated Sum ma Cum Pot Poory. You received a degree but not an education. An education requires the ability to think, to dissect, to delve into, and to ask questions. These things are required to make informed decisions and maybe come up with some original thoughts. When did you think or question? You do not realize how mentally stagnant you have become. You are learning that writing requires thinking, dissecting, and questioning. It requires reading what others write and hearing what others say. It requires absorbing the life and soul of thought and mental creation. You have let your mind become a sponge for garbage. It has not been a receptacle for new ideas and creative thought. You have not allowed your mind and therefore yourself to grow. You have remained stagnant. You have remained a Pot Poory. However, you do not need to remain a Pot Poory. You can learn. You can grow. You can evolve. Just strive to let your eyes open up to seeing, your ears open up to hearing, your heart open up to feeling and your mind open up to learning. You can evolve if you really want to. Just apply these concepts and you will evolved from a Pot Poory to potpourri.