Excuse me, did you just call me a fad?
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life
I learned what the meaning of fad was the hard way. And I don’t just mean having to look it up in a dictionary. Since, I come before the mandatory use of home computers. I had a personal encounter with the word. It’s surprising, though, what one’s personal history of fads says about oneself. For me, in retrospect, my string of passing fancies was equivalent to that annoying solid beep of an emergency broadcast—“ in the event of an actual emergency, contact information will be provided.” That second part there, that never happened. Some of my “interests” were rather unique to me and me alone....
I stress when there's nothing to stress about because I'm so ready to prove that I can handle stress.
I think I've told you I'm pretty good in a crisis. And if I haven't, well...I'm pretty good in a crises. At least the major ones. I'm fairly adept at "getting things done" in a hurricane, tornado, family death, and so on. Little things, though, little things get me but good. If I lose a tennis match, or misplace the car keys: watch out. I'm not sure why this is the way it is. It doesn't really make much sense...or does it? My wiring is designed for disaster. (That's not really a good thing, either). But, when things settle, or there comes a long...
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