Sick Days: Wednesday March 31st, & Thursday April 1st

Hello. If anyone reads this, please let other people who go to the Library on Wednesdays & Thursdays know as well. I have been very sick all day. I am feeling a little better now, but I still can't eat anything, & I am going to stay home for the next couple of days, so I won't be at the Library on March 31st & April 1st. I would love to be able to say this is an April Fools Day joke, but unfortunately it is not. So I will see you all next week

Intermisssion

Sorry for the delay on posting. I do have, as always, many things to talk about including a visit from my brother, Jeff, the state of the world of politics, and the powerful and sometimes dangerous emotion of anger. So don't think I've forgot about you, because I could never do that. Be patient. I will write again soon.

Rainy Day, Dream Away, Let the Sun Take a Holiday...

Rainy days are different than snow days. The feelings they evoke (create, cause) in us are different. Besides the obvious fact that schools and businesses don't close when it rains, the rain brings feelings of sadness and melancholy for many of us. The sky is crying. I like rainy days because they are a good excuse for staying in and reading a good book. The Magnificent King Edgar the Bald, my little feathered friend and master, likes them because I spend more time with him. It is very hard to motivate myself on rainy days, however. Right at this moment I am writing this on my blog when I really should be dusting and vacuuming. I am postponing (procrastinating) the inevitable (it can not be avoided). Rainy days are good days for putting things off to another time. It seems so much easier to be active and accomplish things when the sun is shining. The outside world has quite an impact on our feelings and moods. We are part of the world around us, and as much as we might like to at times, we can't separate ourselves from it.
So, the secret I suppose is to "go with the flow" and use each day in the best way we can while trying to maintain harmony (peace, well being, balance) between our inner being and the world around us. It is ok to feel sad or melancholy on a rainy day. After all, if it wasn't for rainy days, we wouldn't enjoy sunny days nearly as much.

To Structure, or Not to Structure? You Tell me.

First, I want to point out that the last post was in the voice of Charles Klugenhofski, my alter ego (other self), the bank robber from Iyfangotstand, whom I created. His comments and views are not necessarily my own. He can say and do things that I can not. Please understand that he is not really an evil man, just a not very nice man. So using him to see, notice, and point certain things out, gives me more freedom, because he can talk about things in ways that I would not. I do find him mildly amusing, and we will probably hear from him again. Enough about him.
I was talking to a couple of friends over lunch. They don't come to my conversation groups even though they both want to learn and improve their English. The reason is that they feel they need a lot more "structure" in how they learn English. Informal conversation is too much for them to handle, and becomes more confusing than helpful. Now, I would not want to change the informality of our conversation groups, but I am wondering if we need to add more structure. Not just for the very basic learners, but for all levels. I am going to be thinking about this, and I would like those of you coming to the groups to think about it as well. Would more structure help you? Do you have specific things you want to learn about the English language, or that give you a lot of trouble? As always, I appreciate all comments and questions. You can always email me at: callmejack3@sbcglobal.net. And for any police reading this, Charles Klugenhofski does not live here.

You Talking to Me?

Blah, blah blah...talk, talk, talk...People here never stop talking. I think they believe if their mouths are not moving they will die. I like to keep to myself mostly. Mainly because I am a wanted man. I was a bankrobber back in my country and had to flee to avoid being arrested and going to prison. I changed my name and identity when I came to this magnificent country, the United States of America, Land of the Free, with the emphasis on "free." My true identity was discovered, unfortunately, a short time ago. So now I am living in Cleveland, Ohio, with my bird friend, whose new name is George. You can call me Irving. This is the reason why I don't go around telling my life story to everyone I happen to meet. Too many questions I would prefer not to answer. For some strange reason, however, people I have never seen before in my life insist upon talking to me. What is wrong with them?
I usually get up between 6:30 and 7:00 am and go out jogging. Sometimes I use a running track around a football field. This morning another man was walking on the track while I was jogging. He began asking me questions while I jogged by. Have you ever tried to carry on a conversation with someone who is walking while you are jogging? Then he begins telling me all the reasons why he is walking for exercise. I am fifty feet past him and he is still talking even though I can no longer understand what he is saying. People can't shutup. Every day I see people talking on their cell phones while they are driving their cars, shopping in the supermarket, and walking down the street. I saw a homeless man who looked like he had been living in the same clothes for months who was panhandling for money, and talking on a cell phone. What's wrong with that picture?
Sometimes I go to the shopping mall to watch people. Ok, there are a lot of pretty girls who go to the mall, but I don't discriminate, I watch all kinds of people. I like sitting on a bench and just watching. So the other day, I am just sitting there enjoying myself, minding my own business, when this grandmother sits down next to me and starts talking. She asks me a couple of questions, and then begins to tell me about her late husband, her children, her grandchildren, her friends, and all her cats. Was she lonely? I don't think so. She was taking a break from shopping with her daughter, her son-in-law, and her 5 grandchildren, who all joined her a short time later. Somehow, in the chaos that followed, I managed to make my escape. Where can I go where people will leave me alone? They are driving me crazy. And so it continues, blah, blah, blah...I may have to turn myself in so I can go to prison to get some peace and quiet.

Signs, Omens, Portents...or Coincidence?

Edgar in the safety of his castle

Saturdays many times are a day of recuperation for me, like today. I awoke around the usual time, 6:30 give or take a few minutes. Getting up to go jogging seemed like more than I was capable of doing. Actually, getting out of bed seemed more than I was capable of doing. So, with very little planning on my part, I fell back asleep, not just once, but twice. Sometimes it is very necessary to let my body replenish it's energy level through restful inactivity. That's what this particular Saturday is all about. While my body is resting I will exercise my mind and imagination by reading, something I really hate to do (that is sarcasm, and you should look it up if you are not familiar with the word).

In my ESOL conversation groups we have discussed the idea of a grand design vs. coincidence. Whether things that happened had meaning and were a part of a larger picture or design that was shaped by a Higher Power. I am not a religious fanatic, but as far as all the important, and even many of what seem like the not-so-important events and chance meetings in my life, I don't believe in coincidence. When Harry came into my life, although I didn't recognize it at first, I believe I was given a miracle. I don't think my adopting Edgar was coincidence, either. The Humane Society's animal shelter in the town of Quaker Hill had taken in seven cockatiels and put an advertisement in the newspaper to find people to adopt them. I happened to see the ad, and it was just at the time I was getting over grieving for the loss of Harry. When I went to the Humane Society shelter, Edgar was the only cockatiel left. He also was on the brink of becoming very sick, and dying. From the way he was acting when I got him home, I didn't think he was even going to live through that first night. Now, however, he is doing very well, and he knows he is the boss in this house. I wouldn't have it any other way. So you see, I believe it was meant to be. Call it fate, destiny, or simply an extraordinary event. To Edgar and I, however, I would say it was a not-so-little miracle, that came along during a rough stretch on the road of life. I can't speak for Edgar, but I am very happy that our paths crossed. As I am also very happy, and blessed, to have met those of you I know.

Hope, Humor, & Harry...

I do battle daily with my immune system disease, Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome. CFIDS for short. With daily exercise, very good (and expensive) nutritional supplements as well as maintaining a healthy diet, I manage to keep it in check. It's not a fight I can win, but I also won't let it beat me. I do have bad days, and my biggest complaint is that I have very limited energy. It is not difficult to become completely exhausted. Compared to my early years of being sick, however, this is a walk in the park. The most exercise I was capable of in the first 6 months was going from my bed to the sofa, and vice versa. After 6 months I began to vacuum the house once a week for exercise, and doing that exhausted me. Two years later I began walking for exercise starting at less than 1/4 mile. It took me 2 years after I began to get up to 2 and 1/2 miles. It was in those early years that a miracle fell into my life in the form of a little monster that looked like a harmless little bird. I have no idea where Harry came from. He could have flown hundreds of miles or from just down the street. His loud squawking got me off the couch one afternoon when I really did not want to get up at all. I got outside just in time to keep him from being lunch for a neighborhood cat. This little yellow, white, grey, and orange, very ferocious looking cockatiel was an incredible sight to see. I tried to get him to step onto my hand, but he was ready to fight me as well as the cat. I poked a stick at the cat to make him back up. I really had no idea what to do. While I was trying to hold the cat off with the stick, this fierce little bird climbed onto the stick, walked up my arm and onto my shoulder. That's how I became the caretaker and servant of a small parrot.
Harry brought many things into my life, two of which I needed in the worst way, hope and humor. He snuck hope into my life by way of the backdoor, because at that point there wasn't an easy way for hope to enter my life. He brought hope disguised as responsiblity, and lots of laughter. Once Harry was firmly in my life I knew I would have to go on living because there was no one else in the world who would put up with the bad-tempered little monster that he was. I love Harry dearly, but there were times when he could be so vicious it was scary. Mostly, however, he was that way only when someone tried to interfere with something he wanted to do, or he felt threatened.
There are many funny stories about Harry. He loved shoes. He had one pair in particular that he loved, and he would get right up to one of them and whistle away like he was courting it. You never knew what he would become attached to, but once he did, he would protect it with his life against all comers, including myself, or anyone else that would try to come between him and the object of his affection. There was an oven mitt, one of those large padded gloves for removing hot pans from the oven or stove, that he took a shine to. Everytime I opened the dawer it was in, Harry would attack me, and then climb into the drawer with the mitt. One of my favorite stories about Harry happened when he was being his usual aggravating self while I was trying to clean one day, so I locked him in his cage while I finished, which of course he was not happy about. When I was done, I opened the door to his cage, and then began reading the newspaper as I relaxed on the sofa. Harry refused to acknowledge me or come out of his cage. About a half hour later, he climbed down the ladder attached to the door of his cage to the coffee table (he could have flown, but he didn't), and then onto my legs (my feet were up on the coffee table) and walked his way up to my chest, as I was laying down. I had set aside the newspaper and was looking at him. He walked right up to my face and then bit me on the cheek, after which he dashed back down the length of my body onto the coffee table, up the ladder and into his cage. It was impossible for me to be mad. I was too busy laughing hysterically. That was Harry. A truly marvelous being. If there ever was an angel masquerading as a little demon, it was he. He brought light, love, and laughter into my life when I needed it the most.
One of the most difficult trials of my life was taking care of him when he was dying. When the end came, when he could no longer stay on a perch, and was no longer able to eat, even though I knew it was the right thing to do for him, bringing him to the animal hospital to have him put to sleep was the hardest thing I had ever done. I felt completely helpless. I cried not just then, but even now when I think of those last moments, I still cry.
I love Edgar, and always will. But Harry was truly special. I found Edgar. Harry found me. He came into my life when I most needed him, and I believe he knew that I would be ok if he left me at that point in my life. If I listen closely, I can still hear him yelling the way he would when I came home. And boy could he yell. I miss him terribly sometimes. But I believe that one day, I will see him again...

At the Library today we talked about many interesting things. One of them was what do you say if you have to call 911. "Help!" is good. "Hello, how are you?" is not so good. Most, if not all, of the English learners I talk to do not have a home phone, but a cell phone. When you are calling 911 on a cell phone you need to know the address of where you are so any emergency medical people or police can find you. Even though your name will probably come up in the emergency dispatcher's caller i.d., you should give your name, address of where you are, and what the emergency is. If you are having trouble understanding or speaking English, tell them your English is not so good. They will send help, and probably tell you to stay on the line which means don't hang up. The most important thing in an emergency is to try to remain calm so you can think clearly.
We also talked about how old a child should be before he or she can be left alone. In Connecticut there isn't a law with a definite age. From what I have read, most authorities agree the child should be at least 13 or 14 years old, but it's a judgement call, meaning you have to use your own judgement. Some children are mature enough to be left on their own at that age. Other children are not mature enough at a much older age. I still can't be completely trusted on my own and I am 29. Ooops! I am 30 now, I keep forgetting.
One of my many tangents (a good word, look it up) of thought was about pirates. Many young boys like myself (wow! now I'm 12) fantasize about being pirates in the so called Golden Age of Piracy in the 1600 to 1800s. I read about most of the famous and infamous pirates when I was a boy: Blackbeard, Captain Kidd, and one of very few women pirates, Anne Bonny. Even as a girl living in her rich family's house she had a violent temper. Supposedly she stabbed a servant girl with a knife when she 13 years old. She was definitely a child that shouldn't be left alone. I knew there had been many different nationalites of pirates: Spanish, English, Irish, the Vikings from Scandinavia, Muslims, Arabs, and when I checked on Google I found one of the most vicious and infamous was a Chinese woman name Zheng Yi Sao who commanded what was then called the Red Fleet centuries ago. Zheng Yi Sao had 1500 ships under her command, and maintained discipline throughout her fleet by beheading (cutting their heads off) anyone who disobeyed her orders. She was a one tough boss.
Hard to remember all we talked about. We all tried to get someone to talk about an ex-boyfriend she mentioned. But she wouldn't give us any details. I can't tell you who it was, because she will hurt me. As always, I had too much fun. I should probably pay Literacy Volunteers to let me do this. But please! Don't tell them that. Hong! If you are reading this, you better stop and go study for your exam tomorrow...

Land of Idioms

Hello. My name is Charles Klugenhofski. I came to this country from Iyfangotstand, a small country not very many people have heard of. We speak English there, and so when I came here I thought I would have no problem with the language. Wow. I was quite mistaken. I cannot understand what these people are saying. In the USA it seems it is possible to have "a tiger by the tail" when there is no tiger. Someone can have a "cold heart" and also be "full of hot air". I heard a coversation about someone's friend who was "chasing the dragon" and had a "monkey on his back". What are these people talking about? I was in a restaurant listening to two men who were speaking of a waitress who had just slapped a customer in the face for being a "pig". He didn't look like a pig to me. One man said to the other, "She's a woman after my own heart." The second man replied, "Yeah, with a knife." Then the second man said, " If you think she's so hot, why don't you talk to her?" The first man said, "Nah. I get cold feet when I think about it." Then the second man said, "Chicken." I don't understand these guys at all. The second man then says, "Let's blow this pop stand," to which the first man says "You got it." As the second man gets up he says, "Come on, get the lead out and shake a leg." As they leave, the first man says, "What's the matter? You have ants in your pants?" What kind of English is this? Do these people speak in some kind of strange dialect? If I was not a wanted man back in Iyfangotstand, I would go back there right now. I am getting a headache listening to these people. They speak funny English in this country, and I don't mean funny "ha ha". One last thing. Why do these people tell you to "chew on that for awhile" when you are not eating anything? Or to "put that in your pipe and smoke it" when they can see you don't have a pipe? I do not think what these people say means what they think it means. I am really confused. So I guess I'll call it quits and go home. Tomorrow is another day.