Friday Funnies From Atlanta

I flew in early Thursday morning for my grandmother's funeral.  I loved catching up with so many family members I haven't seen in forever.  Even with all the wonderful visiting, it was a hard day in many ways- it was a funeral, after all. But we did have several good laughs, especially when we heard my grandmother thought the new pastor was a cutie.  I toyed with the idea of not have a Friday Funnies this week, but laughing felt so good in the midst of the sadness.  And I laughed a lot at both these videos... so here we go!

One of the more comical sign placements:


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I can see one of my daughters doing this:



How did he not see this coming?


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Are you ready for Halloween?  




Happy trick-or-treating!


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Miss Mary, 1916 - 2010

My Dad's mother passed away early Monday morning.  Mama Mary was 94 1/2 (the half was important) and quite honestly, I thought she'd make it to 100.  She was a tough one, never the type of grandmother who scooped me up and plopped her in her lap.  But she cared for us by cooking, and honey, could she ever whip up a spread of creamed corn, green beans and corn bread.  I know there were other things on the table but those were my favorites.

I'm relieved Mama Mary's not suffering any more.  Towards the end she was having difficulty breathing and Mom said she appeared to be in a lot of pain.

I'm relieved for my parents to have the constancy of caring for her end.  It is difficult, to say the least, to care for the dying.  That's not the politically correct thing to say - I should be saying, "Oh, it was an honor and joy for my parents to care for her."  And while that's true, it doesn't negate how incredibly difficult that kind of care is.

The service will be Thursday and I imagine it will be packed.  She lived in her little town for many years and was very involved in her church.  She also taught kindergarten for 30 years - any time I went into town with her we always heard, "Hey, Miss Mary!"  Our trips took longer than planned because we had to stop and talk to so many church friends and former students.

All day yesterday, all I could think of was the first part of Question 1 of the Heidelberg Catechism:

Q. What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A. That I am not my own,

but belong—

body and soul,

in life and in death—

to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

And while we are perplexed, we do not despair because of this great hope, a hope I am thankful my grandmother shared. 

Mama Mary, 1916

The whole family at Mama Mary and J's 50th wedding anniversary, 1986.  Although I just realized the in-laws aren't in the picture - what's with that?!

The kids with Mama Mary last October.

"Wait, wait..." was worth the wait

Hi, my name is Christy and I listen to NPR.  (Hi, Christy.)

I realize this will make me seem like a wobbly conservative, but I adore several of NPR's weekend shows, especially Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me!, their quiz show about the news of the week, hosted by Peter Sagal and the fabulous Carl Kasell.  It airs on Saturdays, but inevitably I miss parts of it, so I listen to the podcasts. Each Saturday afternoon I anxiously await the time WWDTM drops into my library.

WWDTM is produced by the public radio station in The Windy City and is often taped before a live audience in the Chase Auditorium in downtown Chicago.  Since moving here I’ve often mentioned how fun it would be to attend a taping.  This September, to celebrate our 18^th anniversary, Sean surprised me with tickets to the show!  So last week my dad came up to take care of the kids and Sean and I took off, Chicago-bound, ready to mingle with the NPR crowd.

A highlight of any trip out of Michigan is the opportunity to stop at Chick-fil-A.  We had to go a little bit out of our way, but it was definitely worth it.  As if there was any doubt…

We hit the big city around 2 pm local time and instantly remembered one thing we love about Lansing: no traffic.  Holy dadgum cow, how do people live like that?!  Oh, wait; we used to live like that.  We sat on the highway for an hour, barely creeping along.  It was two in the afternoon – why weren’t these people at work?!

After what felt like hours, we finally arrived at our hotel.  We wanted to stay right downtown, but those downtown hotels are really, really proud of their beds and rooms and little bottles of shampoo and we were really, really on a budget, so we stayed a bit outside the city.  This was good for the budget but bad for my nerves, because we had to get back in the car and head into the city to see the Wait, Wait taping.

The show is hosted by the aforementioned Sagal, who, with Kasell, asks questions of the panelists.  The panel is made up of writers and comedians like Julia Sweeney, Paul Provenza, Paula Poundstone, and P.J. O’Rourke.  The panelists at our taping were Mo Rocca, Kyrie O’Connor and Peter Grosz.  I was beyond thrilled with our panelists – Kyrie was quieter than the boys, but her comments were zingers.  Mo had a lot to say, and he was very funny.  Peter was fabulous. His comments were consistently on topic and hilarious. 

Each participant stayed after the show to chat with anyone who wanted to talk.  I wanted to talk!  And I wanted pictures!

Panelists Kyrie O'Connor and Peter Grosz

Me and Kyrie

Mo Rocca, who reminded me of...

Opus, for some reason.

Sean and Peter Sagal

Yes, the show’s participants and most of its listeners lean to the left.  Heck, they’re so far to the left of me they’re but mere specks in the distance.  Yes, the show made great fun of Justice Thomas’s wife’s phone call to Anita Hill.  Yes, Juan Williams was the butt of many jokes.  Even so, I admire the writing, which is superb and the way the panelists and Peter Sagal can come up with funny stuff on the spot is amazing.  But truth be told, my favorite part is Carl.  There has never been a more perfect radio voice, ever.  And it turns out, he’s as nice a guy as I’d hoped.

I even got a hug!

(Click here to listen to the show we saw.  Dick Van Dyke was the celebrity guest on Not My Job. Even though he wasn't there in person it was a thrill to hear him on the phone!)

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Friday Funnies From Friends

My in-box was graced with several, "Thought you could use this on Friday," notes.  Yay for friends who look out for me!

Amity sent this one; I am so sick of political ads and this pretty much sums them all up.


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Traci sent several, but I especially loved this one.  Gotta love a reporter with a sense of humor:

And Kim contributed this picture.  I need this mirror, pronto!

And one I found on my own.  Please know even I'm not this bad:

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I'm a big fan of email submissions for Friday Funnies!  Please keep them coming.

Happy weekend, y'all!

He owes me a manicure

Michael’s car-buying process began years ago. Many, many years ago. Since he could walk he’s been plotting and planning the day he’d eventually purchase his own set of wheels. Pretty sure he thought he should go straight from the stroller to the Power Wheels to his own car. In all those years of planning, the concept of driving a four-door vehicle, much less a four-seater, never entered his realm of possibility.

All those years of planning are, I’m sure, where I went wrong. I thought, what harm is there in letting him dream? When it comes time to actually purchase a vehicle I’m sure we’ll have some input.

This is another area where I went wrong. I forgot who I was married to Mr. Let’s Drive Something Fun! And, of course, you know what Michael ended up buying:

Do you see how low that thing sits?  Look at it compared to the Tahoe!
The window of the Tahoe is higher than the roof of the Fiero!

Because my pleas for Michael to buy a four-seat vehicle fell on four deaf ears, I broke a nail and nearly dislocated my hip last night. Because last night, I had to drive Michael’s car.

My Dad flew in yesterday afternoon at the same time the kids had piano lessons. Sean was out of town; since he couldn’t help with the driving duties, I sent Michael and Rebecca to piano lessons in his Fiero, took Amy with me to pick up my Dad, drove us over to meet Michael and Rebecca, Amy had her lesson, then they were supposed to head home and I was supposed to head to my church meeting.

But I realized Michael couldn’t take everyone home in his little car. He’d have to take mine. And I’d have to take his.

Oh my word.

Getting myself into his car is a chore. Getting out is a miracle. I had to lower myself practically to the pavement to get in. And then I had to fight gravity to get out. Thus the near-dislocation; When I arrived at my meeting, I got my left leg out but as I maneuvered to get my right leg out, my knee got caught up under the steering wheel. Only problem was I was trying to lift myself out on my left leg at the same time. The only solution was to sit back down, swing both legs out, place my belongings on the pavement (which I could easily touch since I was basically sitting on the ground) and pray like crazy to not get stuck behind the steering wheel.

And I broke a nail in the process. Hrumph.

It’s a good thing that Michael loves that car as much as he does; that’s the only thing keeping me from putting it up on CraigsList and buying him something that will haul both his siblings and whichever grandparent is visiting.

Next time he gets mad at me he better remember that.



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At least we had TP

To my dear male readers: this might be too much information for you.  Consider yourself forewarned.

When the dates of our Kenya trip were announced last spring I had two reactions.  First: Holy cow, we’re going to Kenya!  Second: Oh my word, that’s not a good week for me to have to use squatty potties.

(Boys, I told you this might be one you’d want to skip.)

When I realized I'd have to pack tampons with my anti-malaria meds I began praying my period wouldn’t start until the end of our time there.  That way, we’d be at the safari where the accommodations would be more American.  Translation: there would be working flush toilets.  I actually prayed for this.  Some days I prayed it out loud.  I was serious; I was not at all interested in using a hole in the floor in the first place, and I sure as heck wasn't interesting in using one during a time of the month I knew there was the possibility I'd be moderately unstable.

And you know what happened?  God gave me a big, ol’, “YES!”  For the first nine days I was good to go.  As soon as we hit the road to the safari, Aunt Flo came along for the ride.

Only problem is, I didn’t really know what it meant to, “Go on a safari.”  I thought it would be a little like going to the zoo; we’d look around a bit, then head back to the hotel.  But you know what a safari is like?  It’s like driving around in the middle of nowhere.  And staying there for four hours at a time.  And not seeing one single building the entire time.  Including a bathroom.

Not having a bathroom was going to be a problem.  A big problem.  I asked my friend, Nancy, who lives in Nairobi and is a safari pro, what we were supposed to do about potty breaks.  No problem, she assured me.  She packed toilet paper.  Great, I said.  But where am I supposed to use the toilet paper?

Right here, she said:

This may come as a surprise to my newer readers, but I don’t potty in the out-of-doors.  I think one of mankind’s best inventions is the flush toilet, and I enjoy using it.  I do not enjoy going to the bathroom in a place where there’s a great likelihood that what should go in the toilet will end up in my shoe. 

I have a choice at home; I simply don’t go places without toilets.  That’s right, people; I don’t camp.  But I didn’t have a choice in Kenya, so when Dan, Nancy’s husband, pulled the van over and said, “Bathroom break,” I knew my time had come.

Here’s something no one told Sean when we got married: One day you’ll hold up a blanket to shield your wife so she can have some semblance of privacy to go to the bathroom in the Masai Mari game preserve.  Not once, but twice.  Believe me, that was some good, quality bonding.

My camping friends would, I'm sure, love to hear that this experience opened my eyes to the wonder of doing outside what is normally done inside.  My camping friends are delusional.  When we returned to our hotel, I was more than thrilled to see the toilet.  I could have cried from joy. I even took a picture of it.

The moral of this story is: be very careful what you pray for because you just might get it.  And honey, I don't know if I ever thanked you - thanks for holding the blanket and for not making me go camping.

The guys on their potty break - thanks to Graham, Dan's son, for getting this shot!

And this is where I took care of business.  Well, not right there, of course...

Friday again

This is for my husband, who has an excellent sense of humor.  And mad organ skills...:



My friend, Chesna, sent this to me after learning my political leanings.  Now that you've had your laugh, be advised the lecture is coming, my liberal, anti-business friend whom I love even though you're wrong...

Grover as The Old Spice Guy made the rounds this week, but just in case you missed it:



With apologies to our math tutor, Sherri, and my sister-in-law, Jill, who taught high school math.  They are, by the way, the only people I know who use/d Algebra regularly in their work**:


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**Yes, yes, I know lots of people use math in their daily lives.  This disclaimer is brought to you so Sean doesn't call me and tell me I'm feeding math lies to the children again.

I do not care one little bit that this is a glorified ad for Ohio State; I just love a flash mob and I adore the song so it's a win-win.  Thanks to Maegan for pointing it out:



Happy weekend, all!

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Randomness from Writer's Block

My friend Peggy emailed to say she hoped my writer's block didn't turn into a neighborhood. Pretty stinkin' clever.  Wish I'd thought of it.

It was a big day around here yesterday - Rebecca got her braces!  She handled it like a champ; I, on the other hand, nearly had a meltdown as I wrote the check. I had to remind myself, "She's the last one, she's the last one..."

I told her she was now a Four-Eyed Metal-Mouth, which she thought was hysterical.  Man, I love that kid.

We've been having some unbelievably gorgeous weather.  It actually felt hot yesterday!  I need to burn these days into my memory so I have something to think about when I'm freezing to death in February.

Someone's stuck a broccoli floret in a cupcake. I'm surprised my mom didn't think of that years ago.

Sean borrowed his boss's Cadillac this weekend.  It's a V-series which, according to Michael, means it's awesome.  It turned Mr. Speed Limit into Mr. What? There's a Speed Limit?  It is awfully fast.  My whiplash is almost gone.

Of course, what I mean is, Sean took great care of your car, Jeff.

I heard Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me on XM's 80's channel last night.  It made me think of Nancy, my friend in Nairobi.  We 80's-music-loving girls have to stick together, especially since our husbands don't get it.

I have to be more careful when I tell Sean he's on fire.  Alone in our home: okay,  At the junior varsity volleyball game: not so much.  Even though I really was referring to the temperature of his skin it didn't exactly sound, well, appropriate.  The varsity players who heard me got a kick out of it, though.

For the record, he's both kinds of hot.

I will be getting a phone call...

I got nothing

I was going to post about how I was a little sad this weekend, not being home with my sick grandmother and missing the introduction of the newest member of our family, but it felt a little, “Poor me,” and I’m not big on pity parties.  Was I sad?  Yes.  Do I wish I could help my parents in some tangible way care for my grandmother?  Yes.  Do I wish I could have been at the family gathering in Charlotte (North Carolina, not Michigan) to meet my cousin’s first child?  Yes.  Do I wish someone from my cousin’s family had told me about the gathering so I could have at least tried to figure out how to be there?  Um, double yes.  Hello, people!  We live in Michigan, not China.  Give me a chance, for crying out loud.

I was going to post a lot of things – I’ve written over 1500 words since yesterday, trying to come up with something else to say about this weekend but I’ve got nothing.  I want to say things like I really, really missed seeing my Aunt Corby and we had a good weekend being with friends and man, you should have heard the sermon at church on Sunday.  But I can’t form those thoughts into anything cohesive.  So I’m stopping.  But suffice it to say I did miss seeing Aunt Corby (and the rest of my family), we did have a great weekend with our friends and you really, really should have heard the sermon yesterday.

Man, writer’s block stinks. 

Since a picture's worth a thousand words, here's one:

I have no idea which one is me.

Here's hoping my brain gets unstuck soon.

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I need a laugh today

Y'all, it has been a week and I need a bit of a pick-me-up. These little gems helped me; hope you enjoy them, too.

Did you know there's an entire YouTube channel devoted to the Old Spice guy?  There are dozens of videos of him - this one made me smile:



When average will do:


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A few weeks ago Jessica told me Brian Regan was going to be on Letterman's - Jessica is a friend who's in college and I think it's adorable she thought I'd be able to stay up late enough to watch it.  Thankfully, there's YouTube for people whose eyes close around 11:42.

And no, I don't have a clue what happened to his hair:



Little brain surgery humor for Traci:

Have a great weekend!


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Helping where I can

Last night I got to take dinner to a couple from church. They are caring for the wife’s mom, who is dying. When I got there, I was met by one of the couple’s daughters, who’d arranged to take care of her grandmother so her mom could have a night off. The other daughter talked with me earlier in the week, letting me know her mom could use some help with meals since she’s so consumed with all that goes on with caring for her dying mom. It was a picture of a family coming together in a heartbreaking, trying time, and it made me sad I’m not in Atlanta right now, helping my Dad take care of his mom.

My family and Mama Mary,
October 2009

Dad’s mom, Mama Mary, is 94, and lived on her own until just a few years ago. She’s always been on the tough side; she lived through the Great Depression and always worked several jobs. I don’t remember ever sharing a quiet moment with her or snuggling up next to her. I do remember being a little afraid of her and often spent the 45 minutes it took to drive from our home to hers wishing my Dad would turn the car around. But inevitably we’d drive down the Atlanta Highway from Stone Mountain to Snellville to Loganville, through Between (yep, it’s a real town), and end up in Monroe. We’d drive up her steep driveway, park on the gravel outside the carport, step out of the car and smell lunch. She may not have baked cookies but honey, she sure did whip up a mean batch of creamed corn, corn bread and green beans.

She’s not doing well now. My cousin saw her last week and let us know we should visit if we can. My sister went two days ago; her report mirrored my cousin’s. Mama Mary's 94. She’s old. She’s dying.

I wish I were there to help my Dad. I wish I could take a turn at the nursing home and give my parents a break like my friend Jen did last night for her folks. Of course, it’s kind of hard to do that from 800 miles away.

I hope my grandmother hangs on through Thanksgiving so I can see her. But another part of me hopes she doesn’t. She is in pain and she’s not going to get better. If there were a chance she could recover enough to move back to her apartment at the assisted living place, I’d pray for that. And who knows? It does seem the ornery ones hang on longer. But it’s not looking good and I don’t want her to suffer.

I’m not there; I can’t help Mama Mary or my Dad. But I can help where I am and I’m glad I got to take a little food over to my friends. In a small way it helped me feel connected to my family. Now if only I’d thought make green beans and cornbread…


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Most excellent news!

Traci got through her MRI with flying colors and the news she received was wonderful: the tumor has not grown. This was the best news possible, short of hearing the tumor was gone. Traci emailed shortly after her doctor’s appointment and said, “Great news today! The tumor is exactly the same as it was 4 months ago. So, I will go back in 6 months for another MRI. If that is stable, we will go to yearly checks. The plan is still if it grows at any point, it will come out. The good news about it not growing this time is that it takes the chances of this being something other than a benign tumor to ‘miniscule,’ which is a great relief to me! … Thanks for your prayers; I know they are what got me through the day!!”

So yay for a benign brain tumor! Thanks for praying for my friend, someone most of y’all don’t even know. You folks are sweet people. Seriously, thanks.

When I was searching for a picture to put on yesterday’s post, I ran across two that cracked me up. Of course, yesterday I was concerned my friend might have a tumor growing on her brain so yesterday wasn’t the right time to post them. But now that I know Traci’s okey dokey, here they are:

Some valid points in each, I'd say.  Although a man obviously wrote the Female Brain one because any woman knows the Chocolate Centre is way bigger than that.

Tumor, tumor go away

When I go to my doctor, even for routine check-ups, I often wonder if she’s going to find something horribly wrong with me. Like maybe the freckle on my arm isn’t just a freckle; it’s a cancerous mole (it wasn’t). Or my twitching eye means I’m losing muscle strength (simply need more sleep). Or the new yellow tint in the corner of my eye means I’m going bind (nope, just a pinguecula). I don’t worry or obsess – I just prepare myself for the possibility that something might be up. I think that kind of crazy stuff about myself. I never project it onto other folks.

So when my friend Traci was going in for some routine tests to figure out a sinus problem, the thought that something else would be wrong never registered. Something’s wrong with her nose, they’ll find it, they’ll fix it, and that’s that.

Not quite. Instead of figuring out the sinus issue, one of the tests revealed a tumor. On her brain.

So. She had more tests run, went for a second opinion, had even more tests and doctors concluded it’s not cancer but it is a tumor. On her brain. Which, by the way, isn’t exactly good. But it isn’t exactly bad, either, as long as it isn’t growing.

Traci got this news back in June and at that time the decision was made to monitor the tumor. If it grows, it has to come out. If not, it can stay. So all summer Traci’s been walking around knowing she has a tumor. On her brain.

All that to say, today is Follow-Up Test Day. Traci is having her head checked this afternoon. After her MRI she’ll meet with her neurosurgeon for the results. If you’re the praying type, I hope you’ll join me in praying for my sweet friend – prayers that the tumor would not have grown and prayers that she handles the MRI well would be greatly appreciated.

I’m also going to hope she handles me posting this well… I'm all about asking forgiveness instead of permission, especially in this case.  And that won't come as a surprise to her at all!


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Friday!

When we lived in Atlanta, we cheered for Tech, of course, but never felt a rivalry like we do now between State and Michigan. We've definitely become State fans, and thankfully they don't regularly play Georgia Tech!  I saw this on Facebook and had to share. Go Green!



Y'all, I laughed out loud at this one!  Glad to see he's really concerned for her well-being:


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How are these people not dead?  Seriously, how?  I would love to know how many broken bones occurred in the making of this video:

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

This is the story of my life.  Well, probably not the, "Time to party," part, but everything else is:


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Have a great weekend!  Happy October!