One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 80

Photos are of our very loved family pets, 
Velcro and Little Red.

#80 – “Never buy anything until it goes on sale.”

This one of one hundred things my mom taught me a million times absolutely did not stick. I am simply horrible when it comes to shopping and buying. Mom wasn’t a shopper, but she was extremely frugal, so I have no idea where my penchant for overspending came from. Well, I guess it could have come from my dad. I vaguely recall that right after dad died, mom had to sell practically everything we owned to pay off all of the bulldozers and graters that my dad “owned” for his road construction company. And then there was dad’s gold mine in New Mexico and the racehorses. Anyway, I obviously didn’t get mom’s money/good judgment gene.

Here’s another dirty little secret. When I was very young, probably 8-10 years old, I read somewhere that the Queen of England never wore any piece of clothing twice and I was entranced. Isn’t it crazy the things that stick in your psyche? Well, this is something I’ve struggled with my entire life. I hate wearing any piece of clothing more than once. I don’t know if it's a laundry-loathing thing or what, but I have always, always wanted to wear each piece of clothing one time then throw it away (underwear) or give it to Goodwill (everything else). It would be an exaggeration to say that I only wear things once; it’s not too far from the truth to say that I wear them only a couple of times.  I found myself at Steinmart yesterday looking for something to wear out to dinner tonight. I have numerous beautiful outfits, but I’ve worn them before, once or twice. Click on Read More Below...

I’m Dancing As Fast As I Can by Barbara Gordon

I was raised in a culture that says we are responsible for our feelings and can therefore fix them ourselves. Mom wouldn’t even let me say “nervous.”  If you were nervous, you settled down. If you were sad, you cried and got it out of your system. I’ve refused for decades to acknowledge or address my own borderline claustrophobia, and it wasn’t until very recently that I even acknowledged mental illness. So, finishing Barbara Gordon’s I’m Dancing As Fast As I Can felt like two weeks of torture.

When Barbara Gordon wrote this book, she was an Emmy Award winning documentary filmmaker for CBS. She had been taking Valium for years for anxiety, the source of which I never clearly understood, but “goes off the deep end” when she stops taking the drug “cold turkey.” She almost immediately becomes incapable of doing anything normal, cries constantly, and quits working. Then her live-in boyfriend, who is obviously equally psychotic, begins to beat her and hold her captive, and she ends up in a mental institution. Click On More Below...

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM OUR FAMILY TO YOURS (Click on Arrow Below)

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

Steve Jobs was an asshole, knew it, and really didn’t much care. He was also an envisioning and marketing genius. You’ll note that I didn’t say technology genius. He wasn’t, but he was uncompromising when it came to what he wanted, and he was hard-core focused on merging technology and art. He envisioned instruments of technology designed for the masses (simple to use), and he wanted them to be elegant. He psychologically bludgeoned his employees and contractors until they came up with what he wanted, gave credit to no one but himself, and gave us the iPad, iPhone, iPod, iTunes, the Apple computers, Toy Story, Finding Nemo and Monster’s Inc., which is why even his tortured minions and wrathful competitors worshiped him and why he is an icon, even more so, in death.

When Jobs found out that he had pancreatic cancer, he went to author, Walter Isaacson, a former executive at CNN and Time who had written best-selling biographies about Benjamin Franklin and Albert Einstein, and asked him to write Jobs' biography. He then, very atypically, gave Isaacson unprecedented access to his life, family, and friends and declined any control over the book (except the cover).  Jobs never read what Isaacson wrote about him.

Although I’m tempted to skip over these factoids, I’ll add that Jobs was also a huge fan of LSD psychedelic acid, claiming it was “one of the best things I’ve done in my life”; lived most of his life eating just carrots or apples; had serious hygiene issues; went barefoot most of his life – even to important meetings; only wore Issey Miyake black turtleneck shirts and Levi 501 jeans; never bothered to put furniture in his house; never used focus groups or market studies when designing his products (only what he wanted); never had a license plate on his car; was obsessed with Bob Dylan; never took responsibility; used people, including making them scapegoats; and he was a stingy-gut (eschewed philanthropy). Some want to say that Steve was just too busy for philanthropy, donated anonymously, and found public philanthropy “distasteful,” but it would be more consistent with his egomaniacal character that he just really didn’t see how it benefited him. CLICK ON READ MORE BELOW...

Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President by Candice Millard

Before reading Destiny of the Republic, all I really remembered about James A. Garfield was that he was one of the US Presidents, and that he was assassinated while in office. After reading Destiny of the Republic, I knew that Garfield was a man of extraordinary but not perfect character, a strong believer in the equality of Blacks,  never really wanted to be President of the United States, and died not from his assassin’s gunshot, but rather from medical ineptitude.

Funny, because the entire time I was reading this book, I kept thinking about how well it was written, how beautifully the various parts of the story were entwined, and how author Candice Millard (pictured) kept my attention even though she was conveying history, which can be very boring at the hands of the wrong person. Then when I started work on this review, I realized for the first time that Millard also wrote another of my favorite books, The River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey.

Destiny of the Republic also gives us such an in-depth tour through the insanity of Charles Guiteau (pictured), Garfield’s assassin, that I actually felt visceral anger and sympathy for him.  Although clearly insane, he was never properly cared for by society and thusly left to commit a senseless act that rocked a nation.

And then there was Dr. Doctor Bliss (no, that is not a typo nor redundant.) Dr. Bliss, whose first name was Doctor, swooped in at the train station just after Guiteau shot Garfield (pre-security for Presidents), and dictatorially and disastrously took command of Garfield’s medical care, seemingly for the fame it would bring him.  So forceful was Bliss’s dominance over Garfield’s medical care that, although other doctors including Garfield’s family doctor protested Bliss’s treatment decisions, he continued to treat Garfield literally to death. CLICK ON READ MORE BELOW...