Sunday, September 27, 2015

45 Years Later

I am not sure what it is about those high school years.  Three years, actually, in the case of our school.  Three years of the 63 years we have lived so far.  Three very important years.

Last night was the 45th reunion of our high school graduating class.  Just in case there is confusion, we were the class of 1970, graduated from Isaac Litton High School, and proud of it!  Litton High Forever!




I know why we are so proud of being from Litton as it is a school of generations, and yet, in the not-too-distant future, there will be no more living graduates of this great school. The class of 1970 was the next-to-last class to graduate with a Litton diploma.  For this reason, we have a sense of urgency in preserving our history and maintaining our connections.  Many of my classmates can claim parents or grandparents who were also graduated from Litton, a family legacy.  The continuation of the legacy ended in 1971. 

Last night we celebrated high school days; the days when freedom was gained with a driver's license, when first serious kisses were had, when lifelong friendships were forged, when lessons were learned at the feet of excellent teachers, when hearts swelled at the opening strains of Malaguena, when teams were cheered to victory and teammates were celebrated even in defeat, when awkward adolescents morphed into poised teens, when we crossed the threshold into adulthood.

So, I share some pictures from a most lovely night.  Notice the joy on faces that have changed with time, yet somehow remain so dearly familiar.










 Coach Forehand ~ yes folks one of our teachers
one of our favorite teachers
not sure where he is hiding that fountain of youth
from which he must be imbibing









The Queen of the Evening,
Our fearless leader and planner 
Thank you Melinda

That fellow in the middle officiated at these two's wedding
He does good work, for they are one of the great couples.
Proof that mixed marriages do work.
Imagine a Stratford boy and a Litton girl living happily ever after.
 
 
For today, I wish you lifelong friendships, great memories, bonded hearts, and I wish you
 
 

 
 
blessings

Friday, September 25, 2015

Redeemed

Whoever came up with this new craze of people shouting out a welcome as one walks into a business establishment is certainly not an introvert trying to avoid being the center of attention at all costs. That shouted out welcome is most disconcerting to me, and I find myself cringing for myself and the poor soul who is required to extend the greeting. I can barely make myself walk into Regions Bank for this reason.

Sunday, Mr. L and I went to the CVS in Green Hills to pick up a few things. I was focusing on my short list as we walked in and the young girl behind the counter shouted "welcome to CVS, can I help you find something?"  This asking to help me find something was a new twist on the mortifying greeting, and so I, in my just-came-from-church-clothes, replied, "no," and possibly waved my hand in a dismissive way. Still focusing on my list, I was blissfully unaware of what a snobbish demeanor I had displayed.

Checking out, I made an uncharacteristically (I hope) attention -getting display of trying to decide which candy bar I wanted by reading the calorie count and exclaiming that I really should not get the king sized Cookies and Cream bar that I wanted.  Mr. L encouraged me to hurry along so I really had no choice but to get the king sized bar and consume the whole thing on the way home. Something else I am not particularly proud of in a day of charmless behavior.

Mr. L said to me in the car that the cashier really did not like me. As he puts it, she just didn't like the "cut of my jib."  In all innocence at that moment, I exclaimed my dismay at the thought, and why on earth would she not like me. What's not to like?  Mr. L gave me that Switzer I-will-look-puzzled-even-though-I-am-not-puzzled look as if to say, "you figure it out."

I pondered on the CVS visit and realized how rude and dismissive I had been to a young girl, working on a Sunday, having to greet snooty church folk like myself. I was mortified!  It has eaten away at me ever since.

Today, I was back at CVS getting my second antibiotic for an ear infection. Seriously, how does a 63 year old get an ear infection that won't clear up?  Seriously?  Well, as I walked in, there was the young girl. I walked up to her and asked, "were you working Sunday?"  She said she was, and I told her that she may not remember me but that I was rude and dismissive to her and that I deeply regretted it, and I was very sorry. She smiled kindly, graciously accepted my apology without letting me off the hook (good for her), and I feel ever so much better.  Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it!

For today I wish you moments of redemption, forgiveness, and someone to speak truth in your life, however subtle, if you ever act the ass, and I wish you

Blessings


Friday, September 11, 2015

Lessons From History

Mr. L and I are watching the Showtime series, "The Tudors," on Netflix. If you need to judge, please do, as there is nudity, violence, and some language, though it seems the English royalty had a bit more decorum when it came to foul language than with foul behavior. Mr. L and I, both history majors, found ourselves a bit skeptical at what we perceived to be Hollywood's version of Tudor England, so we bought books of English history. As would be appropriate, Mr. L's purchase is entitled The Story of Britain From the Romans to the Present, and mine is entitled Great Tales from English History.  

From reading these histories, it is apparent that Hollywood could not possibly exaggerate the debauchery and violence that occurred, especially during Henry VIII's reign and that of his daughter, Mary. Of course, I know enough history to have been acquainted with his beheading of two wives, but, oh there is so much more. I do know that Hollywood took some liberties in their presentation of  Henry's appearance for instead of his being a rotund man lacking in pleasing appearance, he has a six pack, beautiful eyes, and straight, white teeth. I was terribly dismayed last night during my reading to learn that the-beautiful-on-the-show Duke of Suffolk was an unattractive corpulent man himself, and this fact might explain the close relationship he had with the king. Hollywood's liberties have certainly made the show more pleasing to the eye.

It is truly a story of privilege and no self-restraint. The Church of England was established by Henry simply so he could get a divorce from his first wife. The pope and the counsel of cardinals was not buying his convoluted arguments as to why the marriage was not legal. No problem, he just declares his position as king having been divinely appointed, starts the Church of England, beheads those who will not comply (think Sir Thomas Moore) and goes his merry way.  And let me just say, his behavior barely compares to those of some of the religious authorities. If the head religious guy in season four (cannot remember his name) is beheaded, or hanged, or drawn and quartered, or burned at the stake (seriously, there is no end to the terrible things they did) it will be the only execution that I will actually watch. He is amazingly despicable. I spend a lot of time with a blanket over my head, fingers in my ears, humming Count Your Many Blessings, periodically asking Mr. L, "is it over yet?"

Mary, Henry's daughter by Katherine of Aragon, became known as Bloody Mary. She, like her mother, was a devout Catholic. When her brother, Edward VI, died at the age of 16, she became queen. Pretty much, her reign was all about getting rid of the "pestilence" known as Protestantism. She despised Lutherans. Over a period of 45 months, she burned in the fires at Smithfield 227 men and 56 women for their faith. The one that created a PR nightmare for her was the execution of Thomas Cranmer, who numerous times under duress (more than a slight understatement) recanted his his faith in the Protestant reformation, only to be executed anyway because Mary was determined that he would be.  He was the architect of her father's divorce from her mother. He also is given credit for having written The Book of Common Prayer. Even those of her own faith saw the wrongness in his execution.

This is not a blog on English history. It is a blog on undesired results. Historians credit Bloody Mary for the fact that England Protestant. She died in 1558, and still England is considered a Protestant country because of her stubborn, pious, dogmatic, efforts to force Catholicism on those around her. There has to be a lesson in there somewhere for us today.

Blessings