WTF Wednesday: Holiday Travel

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

I got home late last night from a lovely Thanksgiving visit with my grandchildren in Austin, Texas.  There’s nothing like holiday airline travel to fuel a WTF Wednesday post!

The problem with traveling during holiday periods is that the sky is filled with amateur travelers.  Aunt Edith flying to Nebraska to spend time with her sister was last on a plane during the Nixon administration. I don’t expect every traveler to be experienced, but why can’t they pay attention to what is going on around them.  At the airport security screening in Pasco, a small regional airport with just two security lanes, a woman with six plastic tubs that had gone through X-ray stood at the exit of the machine and slowly started to put away one item at a time from her six tubs.  The line  of travelers waiting to enter security stretched to the door, but she was oblivious that no more luggage could enter the X-ray machine until she moved her baggage further along the belt. 

WTF!  My shoes and one suitcase were trapped inside the machine until she moved.  I tried to model appropriate airport courtesy by reaching around her for my shoes and moving them down the conveyor.  She never figured out that she should move all her belongings to the end of the table before stopping to reorganize.

This trip we flew United.  It is not my preferred airline.  They have an additional charge for everything.  In case of emergency if those masks fall from the ceiling, I bet United would bill you an extra $25.00 for oxygen!

It was two days before Thanksgiving and the flights were crowded, but not full.  Our first leg of the journey we flew from Pasco to Denver and had an almost four hour layover.  We ate lunch in Denver and then wandered down to our gate.  On the way we noticed another United flight going to Austin boarding.  Since we had only carry-on luggage, we thought “Hey, let’s take the earlier flight.”  We checked at the gate and seats were available, but…

WTF !!!  We had to pay an outrageous ticket change fee!   We decided to just wait for our original flight.  I don’t understand the airline’s reasoning.  The flight to Austin was ready to leave with empty seats.  Once it left the gate the opportunity for revenue was lost.  If they had let us take the empty seats, they would have had an additional opportunity to sell our original seats on a later flight.  The closer it got to Thanksgiving, the more crowded the flights become.  Doesn't it make sense to fill those early seats and have some space for the last minute travellers? 

We were flying small regional jets.  Because the spouse was traveling with me, at least I was squished into a seat with someone I know.  A definition of hell might include being strapped into a coach class seat on a cross country journey with a stranger’s damp body parts pushing against your thighs and shoulders.  On this trip the sensory assault came from the passenger in front of me who had bathed in a musky perfume.  It didn’t do much to cover the stench of stale cigarette smoke that hung in an invisible cloud around her.

United charges an additional fee for “preferred” seating.  What they consider preferred are the exit rows and the rows toward the front of the economy cabin.  You pay a premium price to not sit in the row just in front of the rest room.

Leaving from Austin on our flight home there were a lot of families with small children.  Having just spent a week with a six and a four year old, I realize that wrangling children is a challenge.  I’ve learned to always carry bribes,um…I mean small educational toys.  The only reason Nana eats a Happy meal is for the free toy that can be used as a behavior modification tool.  The parents in the Austin airport apparently didn’t believe in behavior modification.  Their children were entertained by pushing an empty stroller around and around and through the crowded waiting area.  I arranged my carry-on suitcase as a crash barrier, other waiting passengers weren’t so lucky.  The smallest child was entertained by a toy cell phone.  Every ten seconds the fake phone rang and rang and rang, and then ten seconds later it rang and rang and rang… 

WTF!  Parents, bring your damn child a SILENT toy or, here’s a novel idea, read them a book in a quiet voice.  Yes, your kids are adorable, but the rest of us aren’t interested in their cute utterances.

How quickly the glow of Thanksgiving gratitude faded once I hit the airport.  I found my usual cheery disposition turning surly.  I tried to regain a sense of thankfulness amid the irritations of travel.  Not an easy task, but as evil smelling and uncomfortable as air travel has become, I am grateful that I have the opportunity to spend the holiday with my family.  The joy of hearing my granddaughters scream “It’s Nana!   It’s Nana!” when we knock on their door makes the trip worthwhile.

I hope you all had a delightful Thanksgiving.

WTF Wednesday: Sanitized For Your Protection

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

For two summers when I was in college, I worked as a motel maid for a Best Western Motel in Canoga Park, California.  Every morning I jumped on my Honda 55 motorcycle and chugged from Granada Hills to Canoga Park to make beds, vacuum, and sanitize for your protection.  The job definitely ranked in the bottom ten percent of jobs, and I joyfully returned to college at the end of each summer.

For someone who doesn't like to clean, motel maid was not a perfect job fit.  There were three or four maids on duty each day.  At lunch time we all met in a vacant room to eat lunch and watch Days of Our Lives.  The rest of the day I was on my own changing sheets and cleaning up disgusting messes...oh, and sanitizing for your protection.

The head maid "trained" me how to sanitize the toilet and then slip the paper ring over the seat.  She actually stuck her hands in the toilet to scrub.  The few times I actually cleaned a toilet I suited up with elbow length plastic gloves.  Most of the time I skipped the scrubbing part of the routine, the toilet usually looked clean enough to me, and I went right to just putting on the paper ribbon to certify the stool as sanitized.

You probably don't want to hear that I sanitized the drinking glasses with the same carefree attitude.  I ran them under the cold water in the sink, dried them with a bath towel and shoved them in the "sanitary envelope."  Ewwww! 

Memories of my summer as a motel maid came flooding back to me last month when I was visiting Austin, Texas.  My daughter and I went out to dinner at Chuy's and this was how the flatware was presented on the table...

WTF???

I wondered if the staff at Chuy's was as conscientious as I at sanitizing...just in case, I cleaned my silverware with my napkin before eating. 

Nana Gets Some Heat

I have written about my experiences substituting in my local schools. I never include personally identifiable information. This past week I have received several anonymous comments from "parents." One of these parents complained to the superintendent and to the local police about my post last Wednesday. In an email to the superintendent, copied to me, the parent complained that I used profanity and wrote about personal issues about the students.

I thought that one of the perks of being retired was that I could speak my mind.  I don't represent the school district.  When you work for a public agency, and I know that many of my readers do, it is difficult to be viewed as a private citizen.  For the past twenty years I resisted writing letters to the editor of our local paper.  I didn't speak out on immigration reform, or abortion, or even publicly voice my support for candidates.  I know I had the right to exercise my first amendment rights, but in a small town it was easier to stay silent.  I sometimes felt like the lone ranger.  I am a liberal and that's almost a dirty word in the conservative region where I live.



Today I received yet another email from anonymous complaining that her child was reading my blog. It was the WTF: Wednesday post about the dollar bill. You can read it here. That was the post that got all the nasty comments from a student stalker. Read about that here.

Here's the latest email:

I understand you are one of my daughter's sub teachers. As a teacher myself, I am mortified that I came into my room, where our computer is, to find my daughter reading your blog. I don't know who you think you are, but as a "role model", retired or not, this is completely inapproiate for ANY child to see, let alone thinking it's ok, and funny to act like this. Shame on you!! I will be calling the school concerning your blog.

The superintendent is going to get tired of receiving complaints.


In the blogosphere I have found other like minded writers.  I've also found readers who don't share my views, but are accepting of differences and open to rational discussion.


The superintendent is going to get tired of receiving complaints.

So to those anonymous readers out there...get a grip!  I am not encouraging your children to read my blog.  To find my blog, you only have to google me.  It's probably the first link that shows up. 



Yes, I occasionally use profanity on my blog. What I write and say in my personal life has no relationship to my occasional work in local school districts. To find my blog on the Internet you have to actually search for it. Children who are using the Internet unsupervised are not my responsibility...based on the language I've heard them use in school, they have heard these words before, but the bottom line is that I don't seek underage readers. They would not be interested in the topic of the life of a recently retired person!

Like most writers, I write about my life experiences.  I never considered identifying the students who shared, without being asked, their experience with self-mutilation. I never intended to reveal personally identifiable information about any of them, and I have not done so. Public employees are entitled to a personal life and my blog reflects my personal life, the events and experiences that I find interesting. I do not give up the right to express a personal opinion on a public forum just because I occasionally work for a public agency.

Should teachers only be writing happy stories of children collecting canned goods for the poor or creating amazing science projects? Yeah, that stuff happens, but it ain't all sweetness and light. Remember my post about the student who was stalking my blog? Read it here and that post has the most profanity that has ever been in my blog and it's the student's comments!

Well dear readers...tell me where I should go from here? 

WTF Wednesday: Failing on Sesame Street

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.


Which one of these animals doesn't belong?



A



B





C



D



Last week I was in Austin, Texas visiting my grandchildren, Megan and Hunter.  During the day while Megan was in kindergarten, Hunter and I read books, took walks to the park, and occasionally watched TV. You can learn quite a lot watching Sesame Street. The pictures above are similar to the ones shown on the program. Let’s see how well you can do on this learning experience…

Which one doesn’t belong? If, like me, you answered C, you would be wrong. Thank goodness I didn’t answer out loud and humiliate myself in front of Hunter. I’m thinking, well, the tiger, the dog and the donkey all have four legs and they’re mammals…so it must be C, the dolphin.


WRONG! Sesame Street says the answer is A, the tiger.

The tiger???

WTF???

Then the voice of Sesame Street goes on to say “Tiger starts with T. Dog, dolphin and donkey all start with D. So, tiger doesn’t belong."


The day was off to a bad start when I couldn’t answer Sesame Street questions correctly. I guess I can forget about being smarter than a 5th grader…I’m still working at the pre-K level.





WTF Wednesday: Kangaroo Therapy Animals

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.



Where exactly is she putting her hand on that kangaroo?


So there's this woman in Oklahoma with depression and she gets herself  a disabled kangaroo as a therapy pet.  See the original article here.  Apparently city codes do not allow kangaroos to be kept in residential areas and she is now fighting the city to keep her kangaroo.


WTF? Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?  Kangaroos can grow to 7 feet tall and 200 pounds. 


I am all for therapy, but perhaps this has gone too far.  This is a growing area of litigation for schools.  Parents of children with disabilities want their children to have therapy animals in school.  On the surface it sounds like a good idea.  Who doesn't have a warm spot in their heart for the bond between a child and his dog.  But then remember that the child is in a classroom with 29 other children and some of them have asthma induced by pet dander.  Some children have traumatic histories with animals and intense fear.  Do the wants or needs of one child override the rights of other children in the classroom?  Does every child with a disability have the right to bring an animal to school?  Do the benefits to one child come at the cost of an appropriate educational environment for other students?  ...and who is going to pick up the dog poop, teachers?


Everyone understands the role of a guide dog for the blind; both the animal and the disabled person have training specific to the use of the animal.  The same is not true of every animal that people claim is needed for real or perceived disabilities.  I'm pretty sure that the kangaroo was not trained to provide therapy.

Particularly troublesome to me are the "therapy" animals that people with autism or depression claim are necessary to reduce their anxiety.  Can we expect to see these animals everywhere we go?  So, in the produce department of the grocery store while I'm sorting through the onions can I expect to be surrounded by an individual with a six foot python draped around her neck,  another person with a large rat perched on his shoulder, and a small child with a therapy tarantula mincing his way up his arm.  I don't want your therapy animals around me or my food.  It's one thing to have a trained dog on a harness, it's another to have random animals invade traditional animal-free zones.  I definitely don't want a kangaroo sharing the cereal aisle with me at Safeway. 

WTF Wednesday: New York Abortion Billboard

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

The billboard above reads “The most dangerous place for an African-American is in the womb.” It is located in Manhattan’s Soho neighborhood, about a half a mile from a Planned Parenthood clinic. The billboard was erected by Life Always, a group opposed to abortions.


"They're attacking women for choosing abortion while simultaneously destroying family planning," a spokeswoman Mary Alice Carr of NARAL Pro-Choice America is quoted by CNN before the billboard was taken down. "Their hypocrisy is as large and as obnoxious as this billboard."



Read the CNN article here .  

What the f**k?

WTF Wednesday: God Works in Mysterious Ways

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

A year or so ago my daughter and I were looking at DVDs when I noticed a cartoon series with vegetable characters called Veggie Tales. 

"What kid would want to watch cartoon vegetables?" I commented to my daughter.

Readers who have small children have probably heard about Veggie Tales.  I had never heard of them and my daughter filled me in.  Veggie Tales is an animated series that features vegetables acting out Bible stories.

What the f**k?  Vegetables telling Bible stories?  ...and it's on TV?  ...and kids actually watch it?

This is not a joke.  The series exists and it is really cartoon vegetables acting out Bible stories like Daniel in the Lion's Den, or David and Goliath.

Can you imagine the production meeting where this idea was first proposed? 

I know that God works in mysterious ways, but this one is more than mysterious; It's weird. 

Nana did NOT buy the DVD for the granddaughters!

WTF Wednesday: Anonymous is Stalking Me

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

I just put the picture of the dollar bill to taunt my new stalker. Apparently middle school students have found my blog. I wrote about an incident in the classroom here last Wednesday. Here are some of the messages that have been posted on my blog since then:

"Boner"

Posted by Anonymous to Benchmark 60 at February 7, 2011 5:24 PM

"I want my dollar back you dumb bitch!!!! Go play with zebra poop!!!

Posted by Anonymous to Benchmark 60 at February 7, 2011 12:14 PM

"Fuck you!"

Posted by Anonymous to Plentiful Sufficiency at February 6, 2011 1:16 PM

"U are such a god damn freak! What the he'll is this blog for! I hate you! You had no right to take my dollar! You had no right to blog about it either you price of shit!!!! bONEr!!

Posted by Anonymous to Benchmark 60 at February 6, 2011 1:13 PM

It is easy enough to erase the comments. But, for everyone who looks at teaching as an easy job, here's an example of the other side of the story. While we want to look at students as innocent children, and see our job as shepherding them into adulthood by teaching and encouraging them, the reality is that some of them are nasty pieces of work. Unfortunately, it looks like I had one of those kids in my classroom.


Okay, the smart ones in the crowd are asking, "How do you know it's a middle school student?" To which I reply.... clues!  The comment about zebras refers to a discussion in the classroom about zebra prints. (Yes, Nana was indulging in her love for fashion with an especially attractive zebra print jacket which some students thought was quite fashion forward.)

Dear Anonymous,
I don't have your dollar.  I left it in your teacher's desk with your name on it.  Your mother never came by to claim it.  Perhaps you should ask your teacher or your principal to return it to you.  I'm sending them a link to this post.  I'm sure they'll be interested in reading what you are posting online.  Your mother must be so proud!

Sincerely,
Your substitute

WTF Wednesday: Nana Passes Through Utah

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

Last month my husband and I flew to San Diego for Christmas.  We were routed through Salt Lake City and had a layover of several hours.  We had lunch at Squatters Pub Brewery in Concourse C and laughed about this beer:

Then I went to the gift shop and found this displayed on the magazine rack:



and I wondered which wife she is...one, two, five???

WTF Utah!

WTF Wednesday: Christmas Kitties?

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.




Christmas Kittens 460-0825


I saw this sign posted on several street corners in a residential area in Kennewick, Washington.  I'm not sure why it struck me as strange, but I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to call the number...
 
hmmmmm  Christmas kitties.  I have so many questions for them...
 
Yes, I'm calling about your Christmas kittens.  How do you usually prepare them?
 
Ugh, yes, how long would I need to cook these Christmas kitties?
 
How many people will a Christmas kitten serve?
 
What do you suggest I serve with Christmas kitties?
 
I promise this blog feature has not turned into an anti-animal rant!  I do like animals...especially kitties, but not deep fried!

WTF: Nana is Surprised By a Hairy Baby

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

Last summer I visited my brother in San Diego and one evening we went to downtown San Diego for dinner.  We found a great Italian restaurant and decided to be seated at the outside tables.  Downtown San Diego is lively at night and we were enjoying both the food and the people watching.  A couple walked by pushing a stroller.  That's when I said "What the f^&k?"  There wasn't a baby in the stroller, but a hairy little dog.  I remember thinking at the time something unkind about those crazy Californians.

Last week I'm in Macy's in the midst of hoards of holiday shoppers.  An older couple (yeah, Nana's still in denial...they were probably my age) passes me pushing a stroller and I think "How nice, they're out with a grandchild."  Nope, it's a f^%king dog!  The aisles of the stores are jammed with people and they're pushing around a huge stroller with a dog.  Give me a break!

Now, before you start sending me hate mail, please understand that I don't dislike animals.  I think a working service dog has every right to be in Macy's, but at the height of Christmas frenzy, I think that precious little Fifi could be left at home or at doggy daycare.

Why are people compelled to drag their dogs everywhere these days?   It can't be fun for dogs to be exposed to the noise and crowds at the mall during the Christmas season.  What is wrong with people that they can't leave a dog for an hour or two to go shopping?  To tell you the truth I feel the same way about small children in the stores at Christmas...but you have to hire a babysitter for a child!

Call me old fashioned, but I think dogs belong in backyards, and parks, and running free in the fields not in the shoe department of Macy's.   

WTF: Along the Highways

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.



Several years ago I began noticing bottles along the side of the highway.  I remember thinking that people were drinking a lot of Mountain Dew...you know, that yellow colored beverage.  Later, after seeing many more bottles with liquid of varying colors from sunshine yellow to amber tinted brown, I realized the roadside was littered with bottles of urine.  That's when I thought "What the f^*k!"

This morning I drove I-82 north to Tri-Cities and noticed many bottles along the side of the highway.  Soon our weather will change and snow will cover the containers.  Little hills of human waste will lie in wait for unsuspecting roadside wanderers. 


I snapped this photo by the side of the on-ramp on I-84. The liquid was of the pale yellow variety.



This is a disgusting practice.  What the f**k are these drivers thinking?  I can understand peeing in a bottle in an emergency, but why not dispose of it appropriately.  Or, here's a hint, plan ahead and stop at a rest area! 

 Read more about this problem at http://www.roadsideamerica.com/rant/pee.html

WTF Wednesday: If You Can See the White Pieces, You're Following Too Closely

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

Have you seen the commercial for Charmin where the bears claim to be bothered by specks of  toilet paper left behind after a wipe.  I saw the commercial and thought "What the f**k?" 


With all the problems in the world, why did Charmin feel the need to solve a "problem" that doesn't exist. Were consumers protesting in front of corporate headquarters demanding a solution to an age-old problem?  Who, besides gynocologists and porn stars is looking that closely?

WTF Wednesday: Didn't We Burn Our Bras in the Last Century?

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog. It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!" Well, that and I just like saying WTF. I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore. I'm not any one's role model.

...and while the men and equipment are working the little women are all at home eating bonbons.

I passed this sign and the workers on my way to the freeway this morning.

In 2010 shouldn't these sexist signs be a thing of the past? 

WTF Wednesday: Halloween Pimps & Hos

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog.  It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!"  Well, that and I just like saying WTF.  I'm retired.  I don't have to watch what I say anymore.  I'm not any one's role model.

 

I spent Halloween in Austin, Texas with my granddaughters.  At three and five they anticipate in each holiday activity with such joy.  They had a hard time waiting for it to get dark for trick or treating.



The hardest part is waiting for it to get dark!



Still waiting...




WHEN is it going to be dark?

  When the sun finally set we circled the neighborhood, ringing bells and remembering to say "Trick or treat," and sometimes remembering without prompting to say "Thank you, Happy Halloween!"  The girls went to about a dozen houses and were thrilled with their haul of candy.  We were back home and had them in jammies and in bed at their regular bedtime.

But the knocks on our door continued, and I got to see what the rest of the neighborhood was wearing for Halloween.  That's when I said "WTF!" 

When did it become appropriate to dress pre-teens and children as pimps and hos?  There were at least three pre-teen boys dressed as pimps and several pre-teen girls in whorish costume.  I get that a high school aged kid might find it funny to dress as a pimp, but a pre-teen?  Some nine year old's mother had to think "Gee, wouldn't Junior be cute as a pimp" and then drive to K-mart to buy the costume.  What does it say about a parent who would think this type of costume is suitable?  I can't imagine a parent saying to a little girl "Honey, why don't you be a whore this Halloween," or to a son "Junior, why not portray an exploiter of women for Halloween."


All I can say is "What the f**k!"  and be grateful that the granddaughters still want to be princesses.

WTF Wednesday: The Pepto Bismol House

WTF Wednesday is a semi-regular feature of this blog.  It documents the things that have made me pause, slap my forehead and say "What the f**k!"  Well, that and I just like saying WTF.  I'm retired. I don't have to watch what I say anymore.  I'm not anyone's  role model.


I was driving in to town on my regular route, north on SW 11th and then east on Hermiston Avenue, when out of the corner of  my eye I catch a glimpse of this house and I think "WTF!"

Who in their right mind paints an entire house the color of pepto bismol?  Was there a sale on hideous paint colors that I didn't hear about?  I can understand mixing up one gallon of this color before realizing that it was day-glow PINK,  but they had to mix up gallons and gallons to paint this entire house.  This color does not come pre-mixed, you have to request this color be mixed!


When I took this picture there were three bright red cars parked in the driveway.  Did they purposefully decide to buy cars that clashed with their house?


I suppose there are positives to chosing this paint color.  It must be easy to give directions to visitors...They are the only pepto bismol house in all of Hermiston. 


"We're the pink house on the left.  You can't miss us." 


The pink probably cuts down on the cost of exterior lighting at night.  I'm sure it's radioactive and glows in the dark. 


"Just follow the glow on Hermiston Avenue.  You can't miss us."


...And as you approach the house, you'll find yourself saying "What the f**k!"