Senior Daze

by Katie Bourg

About Katie: Having arrived in time for the Great (?) Depression, WWII, and all other 20th century problems, I am endowed with long and varied memories. Writing classes have long been my home away from home. Other people's stories are fascinating, and sharing is growth at its best. Hope you seniors will join me with your stories. Try it. You'll like it.

There is no use in denial. I form bad habits very easily. Procrastination is one of them.

I once made the mistake of asking my father what my first words were. His answer was instant: 'Just a minute.' I got the message. I just never got over the problem.

So I was a bit relieved when the editor sent an e-mail saying there would be no room for columns in the last issue of the Outlook. The space was needed for the extra ads they had acquired. Good luck for all of us. That's what keeps papers in print. I learned that in my high school journalism class, a looooong time ago. It is still nice to know when you get lazy.

It's a little late to mention it, but I hope everyone had a good Christmas. Mine was wonderful. Just this week I packed away my old nativity scene of 80 years. The camel is back in his box for another ten months or so. I've got cards I haven't answered, but that always happens. And the house could use a good cleaning. My new laminate floors are wonderful and so easy to care for. However, they do seem to need cleaning a lot more often. Dumb dog's frequent trips to the back yard add to the problem. Charlie the cat has his own facilities, and does not go out to drag in mud.

And I'm finally getting back to my sewing. More material seems to have piled up in my sewing room. My unfinished quilt awaits my attention. I'm about six squares from the finish. And other activities are picking up. The new year is underway, and busy schedules are vying for attention. I never want to give up anything.

The year was off to an uneasy start, where the economy was concerned, but it had begun to sound a little bit better. My grandson bought me a new microwave, and I was busy learning to use it. The Stilly Singers' music has been put together for the next two months of singing. And I've been plunking out a couple of incomplete tunes on the keyboard my son brought home recently. For my own satisfaction only. Nobody else would care to hear my efforts.

Aside from some freezing weather and too much snow, the world appeared to be running smoothly, or as much as it ever does.

Then came the news from Tuscon. We just can't seem to get a break from the horror stories. It's on everybody's mind, and along with it, questions and finger-pointing. More innocent people hurt and dead, including public servants and one nice little girl. Think what she might have become. There has been ranting, and blame placing on all sides. None of it has been of any value.

When I was a girl, we had a sing-song frequently repeated: 'Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' I repeated it to my children, when they came home with hurt feelings. I'll bet you did, too. The hurts we hear now are a more politically correct version, via TV, which has increasingly gotten worse over the years.

The last election found me turning off the media, and putting papers away without reading them. I'm tired of scandal I don't need to know about. I'd like to hear about solutions, not smears and blame. And I don't care what party does it. It is wrong, unproductive, and damaging.

A lot of families are hurting today, because one sick young man stepped out of the norm. Maybe he didn't hear or see anything that triggered his break with reality. But maybe he did. We don't know. Who's to say what went through his head and caused him to act in such a violent manner? To hurt so many many people, including his own family. And who's to say what did or didn't cause it? And if it did, was it worth it?

Any politician or party that can't parse their words with common sense and compassion should get out of the business. They serve no one. Not even themselves.

Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words can hurt as well.