From the Files of Way Back When


When I was thirteen years old, and throughout my teen years, I was more than occasionally employed as a baby sitter. Unbelievable as it was, responsible parents left their beloved children with me, in my care, for periods of time long enough to allow them to dine at restaurants and see entire feature length movies. This was obviously before nanny cams. I was trusted to perform duties like bathing children, feeding them and tucking them in for the night. I did all of this for a mere dollar an hour plus benefits. This doesn't sound like much, but those benefits were spectacular. After the children were safely snug in their beds, I got to help myself to potato chips of all flavors, ice cream and cookies. I was free to watch TV, and, if I was at the right house, I could carefully and breathlessly thumb through their copy of The Joy of Sex, which was right there on their living room bookshelf for god's sake, right there in plain view. "What kind of people are these?" The best part, however, is that I got the telephone all to myself with no parents listening and I got to stay up late without getting in trouble. It was also an ego trip to be looked up to, literally, as a big kid, a teenager, by the little kids I was in charge of. Baby sitting was so many things. It was a chance to make some money, to be thought of as a responsible young adult; it was also a fun excuse to dip back into the recent past that I had somewhat reluctantly left behind. At home I was too old to color, play Hungry Hippos and Barbie dolls, but when I was baby sitting these activities were part of my repertoire of professional skills. And then, of course, there were the after bedtime hours that provided a hedonistic oasis of junk food, pop culture and sexual education.

Six year old Daniel was fun to babysit for because he had a basement playroom full of toys, where we would spend most of our time together. On one particular day, however, he bypassed his toys in order to excitedly show me the hamster he had gotten only the day before. Walter was a pudgy tan and white ball of requisite rodent cuteness. Ah yes, a hamster. I was a pro at hamsters, having gone through many at this point, each coming to his own tragic end, each named Cinnamon, followed by a corresponding Roman numeral. I was eager to share with Daniel the joys of hamster ownership, especially my copyrighted trick, Hamster Trampoline. The way that Hamster Trampoline works is that you put the hamster on the front of your nightgown which you have pulled taught in front of you and you proceed to bounce the hamster up and down while gleefully exclaiming, "Wheeeee!" Since I was not wearing a nightgown at the time, I was forced to improvise. I put Walter on my outstretched t-shirt, and vaulted him up in the air. I was pleased to note that the t-shirt provided a more than adequate bounce.

Daniel watched, delighted. Up and down. Up and down. Hamster Trampoline is not something that six year olds tire of quickly, nor thirteen year olds, at least not this one. It is really a sight to see that hamster flip and turn in the air. After showing Daniel how it was done and going through safety rules, (Hamster trampoline does not equal hamster catapult.), it was Daniel's turn to try it out. Daniel took to Hamster Trampoline quite eagerly, bouncing Walter up and down gaily, both of us firm in our belief that Hamster Trampoline was a win-win situation for all: thrilling for the bouncer and bouncee alike. Up and down. Up and down.

A minute into it and Daniel's shrieks of glee were replaced by shrieks of surprise. "He's having babies!" he cried excitedly. "He's having babies!" I took in the situation. Walter was bouncing up and down. Daniel was shrieking. Coming out of Walter's body was a little bald, blind, pink creature. In addition to the one sticking out of Walter, there was another one rolling around on Daniel's t-shirt. Up and down. Up and down. It took me a moment to process this scene. Up and Down. Up and Down. Two little pink, bald, blind creatures on the t-shirt. One more wiggling creature sticking out of Walter. Daniel shrieking, "He's having babies!" He was right. We were witnessing the miracle of birth right before our eyes. I joined him in his excitement. "He's having babies!" I exclaimed. We both shouted, "He's having babies!!!" "He is having babies!!!!"

Then we paused, looked at the three squiggly bodies on the t-shirt and the one wriggling out of Walter, looked at each other and in a sudden moment of recognition, we said in unison, "SHE'S having babies!"


I thought of that hamster years later after I delivered my son. All us moms have our labor stories to tell. Mine was the most intensely painful experience I could ever imagine. I was in labor for 24 hours. Four hours of pushing and still I ended up having a C-Section. When we moms get together and exchange labor stories, I get a lot of sympathy for my tale. Then, I guiltily remember Walter, and I imagine her little voice interjecting, "Oh come on. You think that was bad? Let me tell you about when I had my first five kids...."



(Post Script- As writers do, I took liberties when retelling this tale, for dramatic effect. To be completely accurate, there was no sudden realization that Walter was a girl hamster. We just sat there dumbly in silence. I, at 13, soon after recognized that Daniel had pegged the sex incorrectly, but who knows when Daniel figured that one out. One would have to think that he has it straight by now.)


This is copyrighted material, Buster! So, make sure you give credit where credit is due.

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Difficult Times



Dear Spleen,

We would like to thank you for your loyal service for the past several decades.  You have been a  reliable and hard working part of our organization.  Unfortunately, the recent financial crisis has forced us to re-evaluate our way of doing things, to do some soul searching, if you will.  We have decided that, in order to remain truly competitive, our organization will need  restructuring.  As you are aware, we recently circulated a questionnaire.  We have had a chance to analyze the results and found that the majority of those surveyed were not aware that you were part of our organization, and if they did, they did not know your function. (Just for your information, the heart, brain and reproductive organs received the highest marks.)   We understand that your function is important to the organization as a whole, but in these times of belt tightening, we have to take a good hard look at our practices and we have determined that dedicating an entire organ to the specialized job of cleaning up of red blood cells is not cost effective.   In order to trim overhead costs, we have made the decision to eliminate your position and reassign your duties to another department, a larger and more high profile organ. We understand that this news may be difficult, but you will be pleased to learn that we will provide two weeks of overtime pay during our transition period during which you will continue your daily functions while providing training to the liver, the organ to which your duties have been reassigned.   Please bring a copy of your job description and report to the liver first thing  Monday morning.

We recommend also that you take part in a creative job skills seminar, free of charge, hosted by the right brain.  In these difficult times it is important to diversify your skills in order to increase your flexibility in a competitive job market.  Please sign up quickly as space is limited, and the tonsils, vermiform appendix and the vestigial muscle palmaris longus have already reserved their spots.

Thank you for your years of loyal service, and good luck to you! 

Sincerely,

The Management 

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No Teacher Left Unscathed


I just received a very disturbing letter from my place of employment, an elementary school where I teach.  I have paraphrased it below:

Dear Ms. Stinglash,

 

Enclosed are the results of a survey of students grades 3-6 who were asked to rate their classes and teachers.  If you received a low score, we ask to you please consider discussing the results with the students to determine what you can do to become more popular in their eyes.  This survey will in no way influence your evaluation, which will be done by grown-ups, but we think that it provides some valuable information for you to use to enhance your teaching.

 

Your average score:  1.5

 

Sincerely,

 

Ms. Simons

 

 

1.5?  This seems bad.  In fact, it seems very, very bad.  Of course, they didn’t tell me what the maximum score could be.  I might have scored a 1.5 out of 2.  That isn’t so bad.  In fact it could be very good.  Especially if the survey read like this:

 

How much do you love Ms. Stinglash?

 

1-    Very much

2-    More than my own parents

 

A score of 1.5 would mean that the children were pretty evenly split between loving me very much and loving me more than they love their own parents.  In that case, I have done very well indeed.

 

Only, I have never heard of a survey where the maximum score is only a 2. It seems rather unlikely.  I suspect that the maximum score is at least a 3.  As in:

 

How much do you think Ms. Stinglash’s class sucks?

 

1-    It sucks big time

2-    It’s okay

3-    It is a wonderful class, engaging, inspiring and surprising.  I never knew learning could be so blissful.

 

Great.  I am somewhere between sucking and being okay.  This is not good. What if the maximum is even more than a 3?  Horrors!  It appears that they detest my class!!  And who knew?  I thought they loved it.  They come in all smiles, eager to get started.  They participate enthusiastically.  They try hard in class.  We laugh together.  They really seem to like the class and to like me as well.  In fact, the children call out my name when they see me in the hallway and run over to hug me.  I just don’t get it.

 

I had to find out just how badly I had scored.  A bit of investigation revealed that the maximum score is a 4.  The only explanation for my dreadfully low marks is that I have been stabbed in the back.  Behind their cherub like faces, twinkling eyes and easy smiles lurk hearts of stone.  Either that or the questionnaire was flawed.  After all I only received a numeric score.   I did not receive a copy of the questions.  Who knows what they were asked.   Perhaps it was something like this:

 

Do you agree with the following statement?  “Ms. Stinglash has squids for hands.”

 

1. No

2. Not sure

3. Maybe

4. Yes

 

A 1.5 in this case would not be so bad really.  It would reflect that most of the children recognize that I have hands of a regular sort.  I say "most" of the children.  Some appear to be unsure about this point.  These children are not that smart.  This is not my problem.

 

The thing is, other teachers have told me their scores in the strictest of confidence so I cannot repeat them here, scores that they also found surprising and not just a wee bit devastating.  All the scores were substantially higher than mine. The only explanation for this would be that the students hate my guts with a passion usually reserved for superintendents who can’t see their way to canceling school during a record breaking snowfall.   I suspect that if the school employed a teacher who regularly feeds her class unsalted popcorn while she reads aloud from the Handbook of Autopsy Practice and shows them pictures of dead clubbed baby seals, she would score higher than I did. 

 

I truly did not see this coming.  I had no idea that the children were even going to be surveyed.  What if people from other aspects of my life are also being surveyed?  I could be blindsided once again.

 

Dear Sandra Stinglash,

 

Enclosed are the results of a satisfaction survey.  This particular survey was given to a select group of people, namely individuals who have come directly from your womb.  This demographic was asked to rate you according to how happy they are with your performance. We feel that this numeric score will provide you with valuable information, and we urge you to take the results to heart.  If you received a low score, we ask to you please consider discussing the results with the people or person surveyed in order to determine how to improve future ratings.  

 

Your score: 1.5

 

Sincerely,

 

Ms. Simons

 

 

 

I have decided to take matters into my own hands.  I have designed a simple survey, which I will give to the people in my life, all of them: family members, friends, and acquaintances alike.  It will have one question, so that it won’t take up too much of their valuable time.  The participants will be assured of their anonymity, as I will promise to close my eyes when they hand their surveys back to me.  It will read:

 

I thank you in advance for taking the time to fill out the following questionnaire which will give me valuable feedback that I can use in order to better myself as a person.  Rest assured that your anonymity will be guaranteed, so please answer as honestly as possible.

 

How satisfied are you with Sandra Stinglash’s performance as a(n) _________________________?  (The beauty of this format is that by filling in the blank, I can customize the question to fit any person being surveyed.  Example: mother, daughter, acquaintance, friend, total stranger, etc.)

 

1-    Not at all satisfied

2-    Somewhat satisfied

3-    Mostly satisfied

4-    Satisfied

 

I must remember to be very careful to fill in the blank as accurately as possible so as to avoid invalidating the results.  For instance, if I presented my father with a survey and instead of writing “daughter” in the blank, I made even a minor mistake, like “How satisfied are you with Sondra Stinglash’s performance as a world class botanist?” the results could be disastrous.  I might even score a 1.5.

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A Message From The Sunshine Day School


Dear Families,

Here at  The Sunshine Day School, our holistic approach to education includes a deep concern for the social, emotional, and intellectual well being of your child.  We have observed that what the children eat for snacks and lunch has a profound effect on their learning and behavior here at school.   Halloween is a time of year when it might be tempting to bring unhealthy snacks to school.  With that in mind we would like to remind you of The Sunshine Day School policy for snacks and lunch.

1.  No candy or soda is allowed at school.

2.  Whole grains are preferred over white flour products. 

3. Be mindful of the allergies of your child's classmates- no peanut butter, tree nuts, egg products, or shell fish products here at school please.

4.  No sugary snacks.  Although there are many sugar substitutes to choose from, including maple syrup, honey and stevia, we discourage their use at school, because they set the stage for developing a preference for sweetened food rather than fostering a love of natural unadulterated flavor.  We encourage you to think as we do and consider these substances for what they really are: gateway sweeteners.  Their use puts your child at a significantly higher risk for future experimentation with chemical sweeteners such as Aspertame and Splenda as well as abuse of illicit sweeteners including the mainlining of high fructose corn syrup.

5.  Unless your child is of bovine decent, we will allow no cow milk products at school.  We encourage you to instead provide yogurt and cheese lovingly made from your own breast milk.

6.  All fruits and vegetable waste will be composted.  Seeds will be saved and planted in school garden.  Ingested seeds, such as those from strawberries, will be excreted via bowel movement, as mother nature intended, into an appropriate spot in our garden.  Parents need to be aware that if the child's bowel movement occurs after school hours, it is their responsibility to consult garden map to determine exact drop location.

7.  We encourage our families to provide local sustainably grown food for their child's snacks or lunches.  Better yet, consider growing or gathering your own food.  We understand that this is easier to do during the warmer months but would like to point out that when gathering proves impractical, hunting provides a viable option.   Squirrels and plump birds that stick around because they are dependent on the bird seed we provide for them are plentiful during the winter months.  We also encourage you to take advantage of the veritable smorgasbord of road kill available almost all year round.  Small animals that your child has tortured and killed are also acceptable.   If your child chooses to bring in the ever popular "Rodent on a Stick" for snack, make sure that the stick is either reusable or made from an easily renewable resource such as bamboo or a piece of whole wheat spaghetti.


Have a very happy Halloween.  We so appreciate your cooperation and as always it is an honor to educate your child.

                                                                Sincerely,

                                                               The Sunshine Day School

 



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Concernus Gravis Politicus


Definition:   a sudden and overwhelming urge to interrupt a conversation with a soliloquy directed toward and expressing concern for someone who is not present, namely a plumber named Joe.  


Etiology:  Poorly understood.  Possibly related to Tourret's Syndrome.  Often associated with feelings of extreme desperation. Widely considered to be a side-effect of selling one's soul to the devil.  CGP is recognized as a component of McMaverick Syndrome, a rare but complex and pernicious disorder characterized by wildly erratic behavior consistent with  being a cranky sore-head.  

Signs/Symptoms:  Sudden onset of the appearance of a great concern for one particular individual in the plumbing profession.  Frequent verbal  reassurance is given and promises made to this person, delivered as if the person were actually there in the room.      Frightening pathology as attacks indicate irreversibility of disease.  Once this stage is reached symptoms  increase with alarming severity and frequency.   

Treatment:  no known treatment.  

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I am so political!

I just wanted to take the opportunity to point out, in this election season, just how serious I am about taking my responsibility as a civic minded American to get involved in the very political fabric of our nation.  

I am a very politically active person.

While many people just sit on their duffs and complain about the direction that this country has taken, I actually do something about it.  And I don't mean just following the news and having meaningful discourse with other concerned citizens.  What I am talking about here goes way beyond talk.   I walk the walk.

Evidence.  As soon as Sarah Palin became the Republican candidate for vice president, instead of sitting idly by, I did something about it.  I immediately joined the Facebook group, "Intelligent Women Against Sarah Palin."  As impressive as that move was, I didn't stop there.  Within a week's time I had also joined, "Sarah Palin hates Polar Bears," and "Excuse me, but has anyone else noticed that Sarah Palin is insane?"

Most people, less politically involved than I, would stop there, but I cannot rest when our very future hangs in the balance.  Political apathy is what has gotten this country into this mess.  In order to bring about change, we must become a nation of maverick political activists.  Evidence.  At the same time I was  writing this very blog, I was also joining the group, "I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin."  

I am seriously considering joining the group, "A Vote For Sarah Palin is Not a Vote For Women's Rights,"  but I realize, that as focused and committed as I am, that I am only one person with a finite supply of energy and time.  I mustn't spread myself too thin. 

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Lick This

I was thinking the other day, as I sometimes do, about stamps.  

We buy stamps, lift them to our mouths and slide them across our tongues, stick them on an envelope and then drop them in a mailbox to be sent across town, across the country or to another country altogether.  

But wait.  As I think about this, I realize that I haven't seen a stamp that you have to lick in years.  In fact, I myself, exclusively buy the self adhesive variety.   I don't buy them because of their peel and stick ease, but rather because they come in fun designs (read that not the American flag) and when it comes to stamps that is important to me.   So perhaps stamps are not the best example.

So, let me start again.

I was thinking the other day, as I sometimes do, about envelopes.  

We buy envelopes, place folded paper inside them, bring them to our mouths and draw them across our tongues, seal them, stick a self adhesive stamp on them and then send them across town, across the country or to another country altogether.  

We lick them.  Collectively.  Think about that for a second.  To make the envelope work, we apply saliva to it.  When you think about it, isn't that kind of strange?

Clearly, the envelope is not a recent invention. The contemporary mind just doesn't come up with inventions that require the addition of bodily fluids in order to make them work.

I tried to do some research on when the lick-able envelope was invented and came up with nothing.  (By research I mean that I typed the words "lickable envelope" into the google search bar and glanced at the descriptions of the resulting web pages that came up.  I love the fact that nowadays you can use the world "research" to describe a 7 second act, while back in the day research required a trip to a library, thumbing through catalogs and the viewing of microfiche.)  My research, while speedy, did not reveal any information on the invention of the lick-able envelope, but I did learn that the lick-able stamp was invented in 1837 by a schoolmaster from England named Rowland Hill.  One could assume then that the lick-able envelope was invented the very next day.  After all, they needed someplace to stick the stamps.

It probably happened like this:

Rowland:  "Hey look!  If I lick this, it will stick right to your forehead."

Rowland's Wife:  "Hey!  Cut that out Rowland!  Why don't you stick it on a piece of paper that is folded up to serve as a thin outer membrane for paper on which you have written a piece of correspondence.  Then all we have to do is wait for the postal system to be invented in order to deliver it to a designated recipient for their reading enjoyment."

That was a long time ago.  Long before we had hand-sanitizer and clorox wipes available at the grocery store to wipe down the handles of your shopping cart.  Long before automatic toilet seat covers spat out of a machine at the airport restroom.  Long before we figured out that human beings have lots and lots of cooties.  

Perhaps back then, people went around licking things randomly anyway, so someone decided that they may as well find a use for all that saliva.

This would never happen now, a saliva-dependent product.  Imagine it.


Seriously.  Would YOU buy a new I-pod Lick?

What if it were way cheaper that a regular touch I-phone, but worked just as well, except you had to lick it to make it work?  


What if it were half the price?


What if it were $5.00?


I know who would buy it.  When I was in Junior High School there was a boy named Sid McKensey.  He was a bit of an entrepreneur.  He started a business called, "I will lick anything for a quarter."  

A lollypop that had been on the floor.  The bottom of someone's shoe.  A slug.  You name it, and he would lick it.  For a quarter.  I never witnessed this, of course, but his status was legendary.  

I imagine that if Sid were still in the business, his venture would now be called, "I will lick anything for a dollar."  Or perhaps Sid is running those underground extreme stamp licking rings you hear so much about.

I think perhaps that we are too quick to dismiss saliva-dependent technology these days.  Take the following scenario.  You get on an elevator with your hands full of sleeping infants that can't be put down even for a moment or they will wail at unprecedented decibels and at the same time, you are suffering from a broken nose, an injury so painful that you can't apply the slightest bit of pressure to it without passing out, and there are no other people on the elevator to help you out, and you have an important appointment on the 42nd floor which has to do with receiving a large sum of money, but only if you show up on time.    In this instance you might just be very grateful for the newly installed lick-operated elevator buttons.

Or take the following scenario, albeit slightly more outlandish and improbable than the last.  It is a very hot day.  Your wish for a refreshingly cool treat takes you to the freezer at your local convenience store.  You reach in and pull out a popsicle.  Only one question.  How in the world are you going to eat it?


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My Pathology

Hypo-graphia  (AKA Grapho-phobia)

Definition:   a group of signs and symptoms common to people who have previously enjoyed and have had success at writing who suddenly and inexplicably really suck at it.

Etiology- Poorly understood.  Possibly an autoimmune disorder.  Often associated with lack of ideas, inspiration, literary impoverishment, jaded outlook, poorly fitting shoes, inability to locate cellular telephone because you turned it off and then left it in your friend's car under a pile of Dog vs Squirrel magazines, recent acquisition of jet skis or head trauma.  

Signs/Symptoms:  Sudden onset.  Gradual onset.  Characterized by exacerbations and remissions.  Often strikes at night.  Attacks often repeat with increased severity.  Sudden and extreme urges to engage in alternate activities to writing, including  but not limited to flossing, figuring out the timer on your your camera so that you can take pictures of yourself, examining yourself for moles, and Sudoku.  Course is highly variable.  Can be mild to disabling.  

Treatment:  Plagiarism for palliative treatment.  Self medication.  

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