8.14.2012

I have a long-standing, deep-seated, loathing of all things arachnid. Now I just have a healthy respect plus I find the initial encounter with any spider to always freak me out a little and usually result in the demise of the poor spider. When I was in kindergarten, the school showed the entire student body, “Tarantula”, early 60’s B/W, you know the old story: Government goo gets on a spider in a lab, spider starts growing and growing. Ends up the size of a mountain, takes US military bombers to finally take it down. Lamest special effects, smallish tarantulas, I have heard that Shatner is in it. I slept with my parents for a week! I bore you with my history in Spiderworld, to better explain my surprise and agitation (and empathy, it WILL DIE!)when, just by chance, I run into a large or unusual spider. This guy or gal was a striped, spread out in a newly built web, large and weird type. It was right in front of me. I almost fell down the steps! So I had to make a decision; give up my space, go inside and hope that the surprised animal (did I mention it was HUGE?) would finish it’s evil business and go away! ORRRRContinue on my merry way, and carefully watch from an appropriately safe distance while wonderful husband battles said monster! Spiders and I have a deal: they can live coexistently with me as long as they stay out of my line of vision. If I see them, they will be dispatched! Naturally, the deal is a little one-sided, since it’s all in my head and no spider has ever survived long enough to object. Of course wonderful husband set striped monster free in a hedge, where I will be watching for it.  I rode 59 minutes or 25 miles/One BDM (Bataan Death March).

Well, I figure I wasn’t watching the world at all until recently and the 2010’s are decidedly different from the 2000’s. Case in point: Girls. You know that old saying about “the more things change the more they stay the same?”Today’s girl seems to have a blondeish, sleek hairdo from the 60’s, no color on the face except real pops of color on the eyes,(also from the 60’s and possibly the 70’s) and blue fingernails!(I don't know when or where those come from) That’s the only place I object, it looks silly and does nothing for the wearer except draw attention to her fingers which now look stubby even if they aren’t. I love all the chunky jewelry, the newish sweater sets and bold, bright colors. Big, pink lips and dazzlingly white teeth also seem to be essentials. I don’t fit in here, either. I made the decision a month or so ago to get my hair cut, really short. What I didn’t realize, is that there was a curly, healthy head of hair in me, just dying to get out. And, to the great surprise of all present, the healthy hair reasserted itself since I had all the radiation hair (what was left anyway)cut off. My hair dude was relieved, my mother-in-law commented favorably but it was my five year old nephew who saw me last week who asked innocently if I was my son’s other Grandma, that put it all in perspective for me.

Thought for the Day: You know the Olympics are winding down when the only things on are Rhythm Gymnastics (Drag Queens or Russians? I’m still not sure.) and BMX.