“Don’t let someone else’s opinion of you become your reality.”
Tis the morn of Tuesday. Good day ya'll. Have you ever been sucked into the above conundrum? I have. Many of us have I expect. It is so darn easy to get caught in this. Living your life to suit the opinion of someone else. For instance, I knew this guy, a decent guy, about 6'4” 250 lbs. Muscular build. Loved his career as a brick layer. After work he played slow pitch softball in the summer, hunted and fished every chance he had. An outdoors man for sure. His lovely wife wasn't much for the outdoors. She liked the “finer” things in life, musicals, PTA, card parties, sewing, and so forth. Reluctantly, he agreed to dance lessons with his wife. A few weeks in it was obvious he would not be on Dancing with the Stars any time in this century but he stuck with it. Ultimately, they graduated. It wasn't long before he was attending dances all over the state. Gone were the days with his buddies, the outdoors times and all the things he enjoyed. He was miserable in his wife's reality.
My current wife and I were shopping in the Hy Vee supermarket. Up and down the aisles we go. I picked up a case of Heineken and put it in our cart. 'What do you think you're doing?' asks my wife. 'They're on sale, only $15 for 24 cans plus there is 10 cents fuel saver I replied. 'Put them back, we can't afford them' Sue (my current wife) demands, and so we carry on shopping. A few aisles further on along Sue picks up a $30 jar of face cream and puts it in the cart. 'What do you think you're doing?' I asked. 'It's my face cream. It makes me look beautiful,' replies Sue. I retorted: 'So does 24 cans of Heineken and it's half the price.' I never knew what hit me. The next thing I heard was on the Hy Vee PA system: 'Cleanup on aisle 19, we have a husband down.'
This brings me squarely to the topic of phobias. There must be a million phobias. I googled it and it would seem that there is a phobia for just about everything in our life and world. Personally, my brother seems to be very afraid of becoming bald even though he is younger than myself. Yep, his phobia is Phalacrophobia, the fear of becoming bald. The above supermarket incident is reflective of just how strong some phobias are at controlling our lives. Sue, you see, has Rhytophobia. If you are unfamiliar with that it is the fear of getting wrinkles.
When I was growing up, my dad changed careers from being a full time farmer to a full time barber, part-time farmer. Our custom had always been to do the shopping in town on Saturdays. Much different than today. We never went to town during the week unless it was for a part to the machinery. Per our custom, I let mom go about her shopping. I walked around town ending up in my dad's barber shop. I would linger in the corner until mom retrieved me. While there I heard some good stories related by the customers and occasionally by my dad. Here are a couple that I remember. Enjoy!
Albert: How much to cut my hair?
Barber: $15.00
Albert: How much do you charge for a shave?
Barber: $5.00
Albert: OK, shave my hair, please!
Paul enters a barber shop for a shave. While the barber is foaming him up, he mentions the problems he has getting a close shave around the cheeks. 'I have just the thing,' says the barber taking a small wooden ball from a nearby drawer. 'Just place this between your cheek and gum.' Paul places the ball in his mouth and the barber proceeds with the closest shave the man has ever experienced. After a few strokes the client asks in garbled speech. 'And what if I swallow it?' No problem,"' says the barber. 'Just bring it back tomorrow like everyone else does.'
A sick man turned to his doctor as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, 'Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side.' Very quietly, the doctor said, 'I don't know...' 'You don't know? You're, a Christian man, and don't know what's on the other side?' The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness. Turning to the patient, the doctor said, 'Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing... I know my Master is there and that is enough.'
Searching the internet for some fresh ideas, I came across a cute story about a stray dog story. I hope you like it. An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home and was well taken care of. He calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on his head; he then followed me into my house, slowly walked down the hall, curled up in the corner and fell asleep. An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out. The next day he was back, greeted me in my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in the hall and again slept for about an hour. This continued off and on for several weeks. Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: 'I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is and ask if you are aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.' The next day he arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar: 'He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3 – he's trying to catch up on his sleep.. Can I come with him tomorrow?'
Well, there you have it. Another blog in the can. I believe this is number 235. Can you believe it? I have fooled people into reading that many issues. Some have commented that I am getting closer to Seeing Life Through Dog-Licked Glasses. That reminds me, Barney, the black pug, wanted me to be sure that I told everyone that I will be getting a Boston Terrier in about 2 months. He has promised to help me train the young one when he gets here. Right!!!! Until the French Roast brews once more.....
There is no need to thank me for this valuable information: I'm doing it as a public service. – TA!
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