Those of you with remarkable powers of observation and an equally outstanding memory will recall that a similar alert was previously issued last May. Considering the nature of the threat involved however, it's not remarkable to see that it has re-emerged at this time of year ...
The month of May
is once more upon us, and while many look for the flowers that were supposed to be coming from April's showers (at least according to the song); recent weather has instead been filled with days colder than an IRS auditor's heart. Despite the inclement weather however, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) has continued in its tireless efforts to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (Though perhaps the reason they are so tireless is because someone substituted the real stuff as a joke for the decaf normally used for the copious
quantities of Irish coffee they consume as a breakfast bracer.) While I admit that they've been a bit more silent than usual on potential threats against the nation, they are still head and shoulders above Janet Napolitano and her merry band DHS minions for intelligence gathering.
It was no surprise therefore, when a threat assessment was slipped out from under the locked door of their Command Center today (an attic room that we keep them locked in for their own protection, as well as ours), that it was a serious one indeed. In fact it was a warning (and just in time) of the impending annual appearance of a particularly nasty group of miscreants ... MOTHERS.
Do
not be deceived into believing that we are for one moment talking
about those wonderful female progenitors who have served us tirelessly, wiping
our butts as babies, our noses and foreheads as children each and every
time that illness beset us, and our tears to this very day as life's
trials and tribulations attempt to overcome us. This group is in fact
the antithesis of their venerable namesake: Malicious and Obnoxious Troublemakers who Hate Everything Regarding maternal Sentimentality.
Reliable sources have confirmed rumors that many of the members of this particularly evil little bunch
ne'er-do-wells in fact never had mothers of their own; and were in fact created in a
under-funded (and still ongoing) government research project, performed at a long since
de-certified junior college. (Some hint that it wasn't a junior college at all, but in fact 'The Wanda Trossler School of Beauty'.) If in fact correct, their mothers were apparently little more than
dirty test tubes, apparently manufactured in a factory built on a toxic waste site in China (allegedly right next to where the current I Pad factory is today). Government spokesman have of course vehemently denies these claims, stating firmly and for the record that: "There has never been any such thing as a under-funded government research project."
Showing
all the twisted jealousy one might expect for any of those around them not
produced as part of one of these failed experiments (a project allegedly designated 'It Takes A Village'). With years of the kind of progressive theory, state-approved mothering that only 24
hour per day government control could provide, these misguided motherless bastards have now
dedicated their twisted and tawdry existence to program designed to denigrate that
which they will never know by methods so disgusting that even Stephen King
has rejected them for use in his story plots.
Of
course you've all seen them over the years. They're the ones
who insist on jumping off the bridge, just because everyone
else did. They're the ones who always put their elbows on the table,
stubbornly refused to drink their milk (or Ovaltine or Tang for that matter)
and who scoff at claims that starving children around the world would
gladly eat the vegetables that they have turned their noses up at.
They're
also the ones, by the way, who spend far too much time these days on
the late afternoon talk shows, hyping their new books decrying the role of motherhood as
something only fit for women unable or unwilling to pursue a more
satisfying professional career (mostly
because, male or female, they are those least likely to find someone
willing to participate in reproductive process with them). They're
also those whose career in fact seems to involve writing scripts for
what are considered 'hip' sitcoms about women who look down their noses
at those they consider 'chained by the bonds of parenthood', while secretly longing to take their places.
May
is normally the peak period of their perfidious activity, as they become most irate during the
month in which a holiday exists in celebration of that they fear
and detest most. Castigating the day of maternal reverence for this most challenging of responsibilities
as nothing more than a 'Hallmark Holiday', they can sometimes be found
performing curiously contradictory observances. While acknowledging the
existence of the festival, they will undoubtedly seek to glorify the
capitalistic perversions of it; attempting to demean its festivities as
simply another occasion to get a great price on a breakfast at IHOP, a mattress, or a set of tires.
MOTHERS are easily recognizable in public. They can clearly picked out by scars on elbows and knees that were
neither correctly bandaged, nor properly disinfected by a kiss. If
their limbs are for some reason covered, they can still be identified as those with unbrushed hair or teeth, or who haven't washed behind
their ears. If you do see one, do not attempt to confront them, as they're also
the ones who don't wash their hands before dinner or after they've gone
to the bathroom (which paints a particularly disgusting picture if they've done the latter just prior to the former).
Owing
to the sheer volume of their nefarious activities over the next week,
the DJBSS hotline will be open 24 hours a day until after Mother's Day.
While the call volume at 1-800-RAT-BUTT
is expected to be high and some delays are inevitable, please
remain on the line and all relevant information regarding their evil
enterprises will be taken down for future reprisal.
Because of the particularly disgusting nature of their transgressions (and personal habits) the Terror Threat is being raised to a particularly dirty shade of Gray.
I left the city that my parents
lived in back in 1980, and while they seemed rather indecisive as to whether they wanted to reside in Chicago or Kansas City for the next few years, I instead seemed completely incapable of establishing anything like a permanent home for many of the years since. As a consequence, I did not live in the same city as my mother for over 30 years. For some strange reason however, for the second year in a row we both find ourselves calling Mission, Kansas home (in fact only blocks apart). It therefore seems likely that I will be able to see her on that day of days that celebrates female progenitors.
Now for those of you who unaware of the
history of this holiday in the US, it is said to have been the results
of three women, Ann Jarvis, her daughter Anna, and Julia Ward Howe. Ann
Jarvis apparently began the effort by forming a committee calling for a
"Mother's Friendship Day" in 1868, continuing efforts in pacification
that included her treating wounded on both sides of the Civil War.
Julia Ward Howe (also famous for writing the "Battle Hymn of the Republic") later added the "Mother's Day Proclamation",
in reaction to the death and destruction of both the American Civil War
and the Franco-Prussian War.
Ann's daughter Anna took up the cause
during her mother's life and continued promoting the concept after her
death. It became an official US holiday in 1914, after not only all of
the States had declared it so, but Congress passed a law, and President
Wilson issue a proclamation. (This
might be considered a typical bit of government overkill, but I have it
on good information that even politicians have mothers.)
Mother's Day is therefore designated for what seem to be sometimes ungrateful offspring to for at least one day sing the praises of those whose efforts go far beyond mere words. Even those of us who consider ourselves rather gifted at doing so usually find ourselves failing miserably with those we attempt to use. Let me however try at least to explain a woman who is at once both patient and strong, loving and giving,
a fierce defender and an equally kind critic. She is also our family's living memory, having some vast reserve of ability which allows her to untangle the oft-times complicated relationships of a group of people who long ago lost hope of doing so for themselves. She needs only to see a face or hear a voice in order to recall a name and establish proper lineage for those involved; all while recalling an amusing anecdote relating to that person or one of their immediate ancestors or offspring.
That her reserves of patience are both endless
and overflowing can be illustrated no more clearly than by saying that
she has managed to put up with this Curmudgeon for over fifty-five years
(something no other woman has yet come close to managing). This is not to say that she can't be vocally opinionated, but that her only real intolerance appears to be for those not as devoted as she is to her beloved Chicago Cubs (a devotion she more than illustrated on her 80th birthday when she had their emblem tattooed on her shoulder).
To say therefore on this Mother's Day that I deeply love and respect
this woman is to damn with faint praise; but in the end, perhaps the best that I can offer and her just due. May each of you have been so blessed as to have been raised by, or at least known such a woman. And while you may not have an Internet venue in which to extol her virtues, may you also be able to find the time to tell them how much they've meant to you.
Happy Mother's Day!
May
is hard upon us, and while many look forward to the relaxation of these
warmer months, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) continues in its tireless efforts to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (Though
it appears that they are currently only tireless because they ran out
of decaf and had to use the real stuff while making the copious
quantities of Irish coffee they continuously consume.) And while they have been given little in the way of credit for what some consider to be their nonsensical labors (and even less in terms of financial remuneration),
it must at least be conceded that their efforts have thus far proven
more effective as threat protection for this nation than their TSA 'mall
cop' counterparts
at airports around the country.
The threat assessment slipped out from under the locked door of their Command Center today (an attic room that we keep them locked in for their own protection, as well as ours) is indeed a serious one, in spite of the fact that it appears to be covered in Cheetos crumbs (they have recently insisted on the 'Flamin' Hot' ones).
In fact they are warning us just in time of the impending once a year
appearance of a particularly insidious group of miscreants ... MOTHERS.
Do not be deceived into believing that they are for one moment talking about those wonderful female progenitors who served tirelessly, wiping our butts as babies, our noses and foreheads as children each and every time that illness beset us, and our tears to this very day as life's trials and tribulations attempt to overcome us. This group is in fact the antithesis of their venerable namesake: Malicious and Obnoxious Troublemakers who Hate Everything Regarding maternal Sentiment.
Rumor
has it that many of the members of this particularly evil little bunch
ne'er-do-wells in fact never had mothers of their own and that they were in fact created in a
under-funded government research project, performed at a long since
de-certified junior college. (Some hint that it wasn't a junior college at all, but in fact 'The Wanda Trossler School of Beauty'.) If the bulk of these rumors are in fact correct, their mothers were apparently little more than
dirty test tubes manufactured in a factory built on a toxic waste site in China (allegedly right next to where the current I Pad factory is today). The government of course vehemently denies these claims, stating firmly and for the record that: "There has never been any such thing as a under-funded government research project."
Showing the twisted Jealousy one might expect for those around them not produced as part of yet another of these failed experiments (a project allegedly called 'It Takes A Village'), and provided with years of the kind of efficient mothering that only 24 hour per day government assistance could provide, they have now dedicated their very existence to a program designed to denigrate that which they will never know in methods so twisted that even Stephen King hasn't thought of them (yet).
Of course you've all seen them out there over the years. They're the ones who always insisted on jumping off the bridge, just because everyone else did. They're the ones who always put their elbows on the table, stubbornly refused to drink their milk (or Ovaltine or Tang for that matter) and who scoffed at claims that starving children around the world would gladly eat the vegetables that they had turned their noses up at.
They're also the ones, by the way, who spend far too much time these days on the late afternoon talk shows, decrying the role of motherhood as something only fit for women unable or unwilling to pursue a more satisfying professional career (mostly because, male or female, they are those least likely to find someone willing to participate in reproductive behavior with). They are also those whose career in fact seems to involve writing scripts for what are considered 'hip' sitcoms about women who look down their noses at those they consider 'chained by the bonds of parenthood'.
May is normally the peak period of their perfidious activity, being the month in which a holiday exists in celebration of that which they fear and detest most. Castigating the day of reverence for this most challenging of responsibilities as nothing more than a 'Hallmark Holiday', they can sometimes be found performing curiously contradictory observances. While acknowledging the existence of the festival, they will undoubtedly seek to glorify the capitalistic perversions of it; attempting to demean its festivities as simply a day to get a great price on a mattress or a set of tires.
MOTHERS can be recognized fairly easily in public. Depending on their apparel, they can clearly picked out by scars on elbows and knees that were neither correctly bandaged, nor properly disinfected by a kiss. If their limbs are covered, they'll be the ones who haven't washed behind their ears. Unfortunately for those keeping their company, they're also the ones who don't wash their hands before dinner or after they've gone to the bathroom (which paints a particularly disgusting picture if they've done the latter just prior to the former). Their hair is usually uncombed, their teeth unbrushed, and their faces are unscrubbed.
Owing to the sheer volume of their nefarious activities over the next week, the DJBSS hotline will be open 24 hours a day until after Mother's Day. While the call volume at 1-800-RAT-BUTT can likewise expected to be high and some delays are inevitable, please remain on the line and all relevant information regarding their evil enterprises will be taken down for future reprisal.
Because of the particularly disgusting nature of their transgressions (and personal habits) the Terror Threat is being raised to a particularly dirty shade of Gray.
I left the city that my parents lived in back in 1980, and while they seemed to yo-yo between residences Chicago and Kansas City, I bounced around like a ping-pong ball from city to city in following a career. As a consequence, my mother and I have not been in the same city for a Mother's Day in over 30 years.
This year we are both living in Kansas City, but she left town Friday with one of my sisters to attend the requiem ceremony of my uncle Gordy. We will therefore once again be apart on this day that celebrates female progenitors.
For those of you who unaware of the history of this holiday in the US, it is said to have been the results of three women, Ann Jarvis, her daughter Anna, and Julia Ward Howe. Ann Jarvis apparently began the effort by forming a committee calling for a "Mother's Friendship Day" in 1868, continuing efforts in pacification that included her treating wounded on both sides of the Civil War. Julia Ward Howe (also famous for writing the "Battle Hymn of the Republic") later added the "Mother's Day Proclamation", in reaction to the death and destruction of both the American Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War. Ann's daughter Anna took up the cause during her mother's life and continued promoting the concept after her death. It became an official US holiday in 1914, after not only all of the States had declared it so, but Congress passed a law, and President Wilson issue a proclamation. (This might be considered a bit of typical government overkill, but I have it on good information that even politicians have mothers.)
As for the excellence of my own, even the words of someone who likes to believe that they are rather good at stringing them together simply fail at trying to describe this woman. She is at once both patient and strong, loving and giving, fierce defender and kind critic. She is also the family's memory, being able to call on some vast reserve of memory which no one else possesses (certainly not this humble scribbler) to connect a face with a name, a lineage, and personal stories either touching,funny, or both.
That her reserves are both endless and overflowing can be illustrated no more simply than by saying that she has managed to put up with this Curmudgeon for over fifty-five years (something no other woman has yet come close to managing).
To say therefore on this Mother's Day that I deeply love and respect this woman is to damn with faint praise. Since she is halfway across the country however, it will have to suffice. I hope that each of you, will manage to celebrate not only this day of mothers, but with them as well.
Happy Mother's Day!
I try not to use my self-appointed position at the Just Blowing Smoke blog for personal reasons any more than current crop of Congressional Democrats use theirs to abuse the American people with onerous and odorous legislation (you can see how wide open that this leaves the field however). The birthday of one's mother however, should be able to be seen by almost anyone as an exception worthy of note.
And exception is exactly the word that should be used where this woman is concerned, for the exceptional indeed is the Matriarch of our family.
I don't recall that my siblings and I were not a terribly unruly bunch growing up, but I am sure that we presented our fair share of parental challenges; even to a stay-at-home mom. These were probably made a bit made more interesting for her however by the fact that our father worked nights for the lion's share of our upbringing and traveled extensively afterward, leaving her the keeper of both love and discipline, a position to which she was eminently suited.
This situation also left the lioness protecting the cubs (pun intended) from threats both foreign and domestic, and protect them she did. While some days found her breaking up the natural squabbling (fairly frequent as I remember it) that occur when there are four siblings under the same roof, others saw her wading into a crowd of teenagers far beyond her weight class to restore order to an unruly mob. Some found her acting as referee during the the occasional youthful shouting matches at home, while others saw here performing the same function at her sons' hockey games (though not officially, of course). In the end she gained the respect of those around her in all of these situations, and her advice was always listened to (if they knew what was good for them), and was often heeded (even the refs finally broke down and gave her a striped shirt).
An avid sports fan during her years in Chicago, she expanded her fanatical devotion to the Cubs, Bears, and Blackhawks to include the Chief and the Royals after moving to Kansas City, and later still to the KU Jayhawks. With all of these teams, somehow she is able to keep player rosters, performance levels, personal quirks, and character flaws on each player of every one of those teams straight in her head; with a perfect recollection of detail at the ready.
She does this as well with a family of truly Catholic proportions spread throughout the country.
Confronted with a name or a face, she is immediately able to place them by parents, siblings, children of their own, city of residence, and time since last seen. (A trait which she unfortunately somehow failed to pass on, at least to this offspring.) I am always astounded to see relations approach to say hi to "Aunt Sis" (a nickname picked up long ago), never expecting to be recognized or remembered; only to have her reveal minute detail of life to each person, while asking the most exacting questions about their current lives.
So on this day of days, I choose to remember and thank someone who keeps so many of us constantly in her memory. For today Ruth Higgins reaches the all too young age of 80, a number notable for her fulfillment of a promise made long ago to seal her undying loyalty to the Chicago Cubs with a tattoo on her right shoulder (Winnie is smiling mom). The undying loyalty, love, and respect of this son however (and I am sure far more of the clan) are today reserved instead for this woman, who deserves oh so much more than any of us can show her.
Happy Birthday Mom!
After careful consideration this year, I have chosen to return to the days of my youth and use my creativity in dealing with the Hallmark Holiday known as Mother's Day. (OK, I waited too long, and I am down to the electronic equivalent of the the cut and paste card in order to get something to her on time.) This tardiness is no reflection on this wonderful woman, or on the love and respect that she has earned from her children over the years.
My siblings and I were not an unruly bunch growing up, but I am sure that we presented our share of challenges. This was made probably made more interesting for her by the fact that our father worked nights for the lion's share of the time during our upbringing, and traveled extensively afterwards. That left the lioness protecting the cubs from threats foreign and domestic, and protect them she did. Some days found her breaking up the natural squabbling that occurs when there are four siblings under the same roof, others saw her wading into a crowd far beyond her weight class to restore order to an unruly mob. Some days found her acting as referee during the the occasional youthful shouting matches at home, while other saw here performing the same function at hockey games (though not officially, of course). In the end she gained the respect of those around her, and her advice was always listened to and often heeded (even the refs finally broke down and gave her a striped shirt).
An avid sports fan during her years in Chicago, she expanded her fanatical support of the Cubs and Bears to include the Chief and the Royals, and later the KU Jayhawks. Somehow she is able to keep player rosters, performance levels, personal quirks, and character flaws on each player of every one of those teams straight in her head; with a perfect recollection of detail at the ready. She does this too with a family of truly Catholic proportions spread throughout the country. Confronted with a name or a face, she is immediately able to place them by parents, siblings, children of their own, city of residence, and time since last seen. (A trait which she somehow failed to pass on, at least to this offspring.) I am constantly amazed to see relations approach to say hi to "Aunt Sis" (a nickname picked up long ago), never expecting to be recognized or remembered; only to have her reveal facts and figures to that person and ask questions of the most exacting detail about their current lives.
And so it is only right that we her children, remember her on this holiday first celebrated on May, 10 1908 in Grafton, West Virgina. In spite of the hype that has come to be associated with this day, it is truly right that we pay homage to one who contributed so much to what and who we are today. (Sorry Mom, I'm not blaming you.) You gave us so much, and expected so little in return. I only hope that the people and the parents that we have become today, in some way shows you the great job that you did.
You know, now that I think about it, I seem to remember that Mom always liked the efforts of originality the best of anything I gave her over the years on Mother's Day (so maybe I'll get away with this).
Happy Mother's Day, Mom.
