And my son has Doggy!
I had another song in mind for today but Three Little Birds by Bob Marley has been haunting me in my dreams.
I kid you not! I had a dream last week and the soundtrack playing in the background was Three Little Birds.
I had planned a more current selection for this week’s Tunes For Tuesday. In fact, the post is finished and waiting in my queue. But I’ve decided to save it for next week.
Why? You ask.
It’s National Pot Smokers Day! That’s why!
A whole day dedicated to smoking pot. And I’m honoring it here, on my blog.
Which is really weird since I don’t inhale.
Well, air, of course. And pollen. But I have never taken a puff of a cigarette or a doobie (isn’t that the funniest term for joint?) in my life.
My daughter thinks that’s amazing. Amazingly square, that is.
I’ve never had any interest in smoking. Both of my parents smoked, although I never remember my dad smoking. He quit when I was very young. Cold turkey. The day he found out his good friend died of lung cancer. My mother quit hundreds of times. Just like Mark Twain.
“It’s easy to quit smoking. I’ve done it hundreds of times.” ~Mark Twain
I love that quote. It sums up how addictive smoking can be. Maybe it was the fear of addiction. Or maybe it was because I hated the smell. Or maybe it was because I likened smoking cigarettes to pouring dirt down your lungs. But I’ve never smoked a cigarette.
Now in high school I hung with a variety of crowds. The nerds. The music and theater geeks. The jocks. And the hockey players. Yes, hockey players are allowed a category unto themselves. My boyfriend played hockey and he was as straight as me when it came to drinking and drugs. So we were always the designated drivers. The hockey players were awesome athletes. What set them apart? Their partying ways. I’ve witnessed my fair share of drug induced rants and alcohol rowdiness. Tip toed through puke, squinting through a thick pot haze.
It was the pot I remember most clearly. The sweet, earthy smell. How it hung heavy in the air and on my clothes. The dazed, blood-shot look of my friends after they’d been smoking. Their silly antics and giggling jags. It seemed fun. Harmless. But I’d think about the smoke dirtying up my lungs and I’d cringe.
I remember saying to my parents once, “I totally get smoking pot. (Yes, I was a Valley Girl.) With cigarettes it’s just dirty and gross. But at least with pot you get some kind of mood changing benefit.” (Shows you how much I knew about cigarettes. Evidently there is some kind of high with cancer sticks.) My parents were appalled and thought I was “a druggie.” They watched me very carefully after that.
Ok. Brace yourselves. Because here is where I alienate 1/2 my readers……I think it’s ridiculous that marijuana isn’t legal. Especially for medicinal purposes but I have no issues with recreational use either. How is it any worse than alcohol? Again, I’m not speaking from personal experience. But from what little research I’ve done and with my limited exposure to friends who smoke, pot seems as “safe” as alcohol use.
I’m predicting a healthy debate will ensue in the comments section of this post. Before writing this I did another cursory study about the pros and cons of marijuana use. And I’m still not convinced marijuana should be illegal. By the same token, I’m still convinced I will never try it.
To each his own.
Whatever floats your boat.
Different strokes for different folks.
At least, that’s what Bob Marley would say.
“Always forgive your enemies – nothing annoys them so much.” ~Oscar Wilde
That quote always makes me smile. Because it’s true. Enemies wish you ill will. They want bad things to happen to you. They despise you from afar. They speak about you behind your back. They attempt to sabotage your every turn.
Forgiveness stops them in their tracks. Confuses them. Throws them off their game.
“You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar” – English Idiom
I feel I’m pretty good at forgiveness. Or forgetfulness, I can’t remember. I have a little personality quirk that helps me to forget wrong doing fairly quickly. On more than one occasion I’ve mused about a person from the past and my husband will say to me, “What about the time she stole your lesson plan idea, got complimented on it and called it her own?” or “You’re talking about the same administrator that didn’t have your back when the parent was a wealthy board member?”
It’s OK. It’s all good. I’ve moved on.
Where I struggle is between forgiveness and allowing the person to continue to drag you down.
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” – English Idiom
Is there a line between protecting yourself and forgiveness? Does forgiveness open the door for enemies to hurt you again?
I toddle on this line. I have people in my life, family members even, that I must protect myself from. Their negativity, their unkind words, their judgement and cruelty. I’m a forgiving person but if I distance myself, if I avoid contact – it is seen as an unforgiving move, as resentment and anger.
But I’m just protecting myself. I refuse to be pulled down.
You know me, I’m all about great causes. Abby, from Mutterings from the Moor, is very crafty. Oh, how I envy her craftiness. And she’s come up with an adorable little bear to raffle off, raising money for cancer research. To give please click HERE. And to visit Abby and find out more about her craft and her cause, click HERE. Thanks everyone! And thanks to Abby for your contribution and efforts to such a great cause.
I love words. I love the sound of certain words. I love the way words string together and mean so many different things. My husband calls me The Queen of Syntax. He complains that I get lost in semantics.
So, sue me. It’s my character flaw.
And I own it.
The other day my husband took a quick break from doing yard work and said to me, “I have Tai Chi class at 7pm. I’m not finished in the yard. Could you yell at me at 6?”
At the appointed hour I stood on our back porch.
“Hey!” I yelled, “I’ve asked you a hundred times to put the suitcases in the basement! And your tools have been sitting on top of the dryer for a month! Put them away NOW, you slob!”
He doubled over in laughter.
(Oh no. What will the neighbors think?)
I watched Supersize Me! and enjoyed it. An interesting documentary on the evils of fast food and their ploy to get you to buy more. But to blame fast food chains for our country’s struggle with obesity?
I don’t buy it.
KFC has recently introduced the Double Down Sandwich. Two fried chicken pieces (you can also choose grilled), two different kinds of cheese, two pieces of bacon and sauce. No bread. An Atkins dream sandwich. Complete with approximately 540 calories and 32 grams of fat.
I won’t buy it.
I’ll say that again.
I won’t buy it.
It’s all about personal choice. It’s about respecting what we put in our bodies on a daily basis. It’s about making an informed decision about what we fuel our bodies with.
There’s even a group, Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, that wants a warning label slapped on the wrapper: “WARNING — Eating meat can contribute to obesity in children, and can increase their risk for heart disease, diabetes and cancer.”
Seriously? A warning label on fast food? And focusing on meat? Not fried foods or empty added calories. No, we’re going to vilify meat. Where was the outrage with the Big Mac (540 cal. 29 fat grams)? Or the Whopper (670 calories 39 fat grams)?
And KFC’s own Crispy Twister Sandwich – 670 calories 38 fat grams. Where was the outrage when that sandwich was introduced?
The fast food industry is not responsible for what we put in our mouths. If you believe they are, then I’ve got a mountain in Georgia to sell you. WE are responsible for what we eat and WE are responsible for what our children eat.
You can advertise until you’re blue in the face, choking on your own cigarette but I am never going to smoke. Ever. You can sing the praises of diet this and diet that with your artificial sweeteners but I won’t touch the stuff.
Now, I’m no food saint. I have my addictions and unhealthy cravings. Coke (a-Cola, that is) is my vice. On February 1st, I gave it up. Cold turkey. For the first time in my life. 1. To see if I could do it. 2. Because I knew my habit was out of control. 3. Because I finally put my health before one of my vices.
Now, I’ve had a few Cokes since I gave it up. Yes, I caved. But I can count how many on one hand. I am now treating Coca-Cola as a ……treat. As it should be. Something that can be enjoyed every once in a while – not every day. Just like ice cream. Just like desserts. And yes, just like fast food.
I’m not perfect. I’m going to slip up. I’m going to make unhealthy choices every once in a while. I just hope I can keep my mistakes infrequent. And I won’t be blaming some advertisement or fast food chain for my slip-ups.
Before we blame the fast food industry for our expanding waistlines, riddle me this…who is buying what they sell? Who races to the store after the new ad campaign to fill their bellies with 600 calorie treats?
‘Cause I’m not buyin’ it.