And the ‘Jury-Rigging’ Gold Goes to…

I know, I know…I’ve been a real slack*#~ blogger this summer…no fear…pre-season football, daylight dwindling, the somber stares of children everywhere…all telling me it’s time to get back in the saddle…the season is here…

I come from a long line of proud jury-riggers…

SIDE NOTE: This phrase has an interesting etymology…originating…as many of our idioms do…from nautical terminology…hmpf…I always thought it probably started with some madcap genius named Jerry…

Anyway…our kitchen faucet’s leaky. My father, while house-sitting recently, reminded me of my proud heritage by jury-rigging the handle with some rubber bands he’d taken off the newspapers he was bringing in…

I only hope my son has inherited ‘my side’s’ knack for the make-shift, make-do, work with what ‘ya got, work around, ingenuity inherent in being a first-class jury/Jerry-rigger.

Necessity breeds invention, right? When I was a kid, we didn’t always have the means to buy a new table, toaster or dryer when they went on the fritz…what we lacked in resources, we made up for in resourceFULNESS.

And, I mean, talk about life-skill! When was the last time you had all the resources you “needed” for…well…anything?

Let me be clear: my faucet still leaks.

But chickens, this is the icing on the cake…(mmmm, cake)…this is the reason why  I’m throwing out right here…right now…BAM!…a fall semester challenge to practice, practice, practice and perfect your jury/Jerry-rigging abilities. Not only will your brain bloom, like some kind of steroidal lotus at dawn,with creativity, inspiration and good ole’ fashioned gumption…but you will grow, inch-by-inch, more comfortable with human fallibility.

There are some things we cannot fix, make right, or get rid of and replace.

But you cannot…must not, chickens…allow this chapping fact to deter your jury/Jerry-rigging efforts! (⇐This is the challenge part…) Because if you do your brain’ll start dropping off, petal-like, into a dark pond of abyss.

So this semester, when you find yourself faced with a problem…before you quit,max out your credit cards or compromise your sanity…tap our collective, American heritage…put your jury/Jerry-rigging skills to good use…slapdash, ad-lib, improvise and invent…because this is what really makes us human.

Stay-tuned for my upcoming post on octopuses…yes, it is octopuses, not octopi…but right now…I’m off to Lowe’s to faucet shop.

Tennis Anyone?

Chickens: It’s been awhile and I apologize…so here we are at graduation and I cannot let this important occasion pass without proper pomp and circumstance…so to you, graduating Chickens, I offer my dropshot commencement cliché:

Other than whacking an old wooden racket around on the local playground as a kid, I have no experience with the game of tennis.

Fun Fact: Love is thought to be derived from the French term l’oeuf meaning ‘the egg.’

But it seems like a fine game, doesn’t it?

I feel like I understand tennis…like tennis and me are simpatico…even though I’ve never really played tennis…it’s kind of like we’re all playing tennis…all the time (go deep…go deep) with a few minor variations.

Instead of having one opponent volleying for our return…we have a bunch…colleagues, classmates, bosses, spouses, kids, neighbors, politicians, dog food companies, big box stores, stink bugs, now locusts…all zapping fuzzy yellow spheres at us – waiting.

I mean it’s a game of endurance, tennis, right? We’re bound to miss some shots, sail others out-of-bounds, get cranked in the head by an angry backhand now and then…but the important thing is not to let up on the return…

Fun Fact: Spock and Captain Kirk were frenemies…apparently, they both had McEnroe-esque egos…

It’s hard to play with someone who just lets serves pile up ta’half court until hemmed in and buried by Dacron globs (e.g. The Trouble with Tribbles…)…or only returns
every other serve on the third Tuesday  of each month. It feels lousy, doesn’t it, to keep serving and serving with no return…

There’s something sublime and mesmerizing about tennis…the balance, the give-n-take, the singular focus, the grunting (yes, it’s a legitimate tennis term)…

So Chickens…this summer…I encourage you to take up tennis. Watch for those rubbery yellow orbs…they’re all around you…exercise your best strokes…find your sweet spot…maintain your grip and stance…remember: advantage is something that comes and goes…follow through…and rally, rally, rally…

 

You Better Recognize…(our tutors)

Tutor Ceremony

OMG! I’m a CAVE Woman?!?!

Yep…this week…I was forced to look in the mirror after being introduced to yet another droll acronym:

bird in mouth.bmpCAVE = Citizens Against Virtually Everything

Caught bird-in-mouth…I’m a cynic.

I admire positive people…genuinely positive people. I do. I mean, it’s the hardest work to cultivate and maintain a sunny disposition. Even Pollyanna had a temporary lapse.

Cynicism is, by definition, being distrustful of human nature and motives…it implies doubt, caution, a desire to protect oneself. All of this, I suppose, does ring of “Debbie-Downer-ness.”

But…just hear me out…but…I’d like to suggest that Pollyanna and Debbie need each other…BFF-like. And…and…I’d like to plead with Pollyannas everywhere to offer patience and prayer for all of us Debbies.

Remember, it is as George Carlin said, “Inside every cynical person, is a disappointed idealist.”  We’re just not as strong as you Pollyanna! We are, I suggest, a sensitive lot…

And cynicism, after all, is pragmatic, is it not? I mean just turn on the television, walk down the street…consider Donald Trump is the leading GOP Presidential Candidate (generally, I steer clear of politics…but, c’mon…)

Where would we be without a healthy dose of Debbie, chickens? Feet firmly on the ground…head in the clouds…Pollyanna and Debbie balance the scales.

Did you know teeter-totters have been banned as “unsafe”??? I mean…really??? Geesh, kids, you have to be smarter than the equipment…oops…there I go again!!!

So…this is my cry for help Pollyanna…I need your wisdom…I need you to spill the jellybeans. How do you do it? Huh, how?

I’ll be searching the comments, Pollyannas. Please…don’t disappoint me?!?

TODAY: Don’t Miss This Important Discussion

Healthy Boundaries Flyer

I’m Totally Fine w. Breaking the Record…

April 2016

Today’s Word of the Day Is…

Esprit de Corps

I came across this term recently, Chickens…it was familiar..but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the meaning…so I looked it up. That’s right Chickens…looked it up in my old, ratty American Heritage Dictionary…the one I used when I was younger to make up word games when I was bored (Yes, I had friends)…so this wonderful French term means:

the common spirit existing in the members of a group and inspiring enthusiasm, devotion, and strong regard for…the group

What a sublime word!

Believe, Chickens, that the world is full of synchronicity and serendipity (No, I am not playing one of those stupid dictionary games right now)…this word came back to me just as SPIRIT of the CHICKEN Week flies in…

Speaking of fowl…let’s clear this up right now:

According to conventional wisdom (AKA message boards):

“Chicken” is the term used for the general species – as a whole.

“Hen” is a female chicken…a young female chicken is called a pullet.

“Rooster” is a male chicken…a young male chicken is called a cockerel.

“Chicken” and “chick” can be used for either gender.

Ugh… leaves a bad taste, I know…

And according to more common badinage (10¢):

All of them taste good…