Grammar groans, scanner sadness, and the “Family of Three”
By Chuck Wiser, I write the words to share what my eyes see and my heart feels
As September is upon us, I have many “remembrances.” Some are memorable birthdays occurring later in the month so lest I repeat myself when they arrive, I will save further mention of those until later.
Since I defined myself last week as an “old soul” I didn’t consciously start out with a word that you don’t hear or see in print very often. When my love of our language drags a word out of the deep soul of my vocabulary, my teaching hat goes on and I love to share an explanation of the word. Most people in approximately the same age range as do I, already know the word. Some of the younger generation have likely never heard it.
The highlighted word “lest” above just popped out of my head and I typed it, as I would say it. Lest is a conjunction meaning: “the intention of preventing or forgetting something intended to happen.” In less words it means “to avoid the risk of.” Continuing on with today’s grammar groan, or lesson, with my English hat still on, a “conjunction“ is a word used to connect clauses or sentences, or to coordinate words in the same clause. “If, and, and but,” are the simplest, most often used, conjunctions.
I ended up teaching in the engineering and manufacturing topical arena, but my real teaching love would have been that of teaching English. Mrs. Toporas and Ms. Stout at Friendship Central School in the 60’s instilled the love of our language. It used to annoy the hell out of me when Ms. Stout would read a passage from a story or poem and then proceed to tell us “What the author meant by that.” My yet infantile thought process back then begged the question; Why didn’t they just say what they meant? I often now write things or words with sarcasm or irony, but often need to explain that those two words are only appropriate when spoken, so the listener can see the smug smile on the face of the speaker. You are not afforded that luxury (or punishment) in my writings.
From a writer’s perspective, especially of the poetic genre, September and April are special emotions triggering months, each signaling the onset of one of the four seasonal times of year. October and May just smooth the transition with more, typically severe, examples of the seasonal change. Although the changes are very subtle, often taking several repeated days, they are apparent, when they become apparent 😉. Late afternoons, especially on sunny days “feel” and look different. With the sun at a less “overhead” location shadows appear earlier and are longer. The cold(er) nights into morning are usually wetted with the condensation of dew or fog. Lawn mowing, one of my favorite household tasks, needs to be pushed back to late morning or early afternoon until the grass (or crabgrass) has dried.
As of this point in my Wrambling, I haven’t even looked at my “to do” list of topics that migrated into my mind as the week progressed. One item mentioned last week was the nature of all too many Emergency Services calls, including those of “patient not responsive.” Sadly, way too many of these come from the areas surrounding the local colleges and universities. “Drinking to get drunk” is the lamest excuse for imbibing. You can’t enjoy it if you become unresponsive. Way too many calls describing those occurrences tug at the heart strings and generate profound sadness.
Last week marked the birth date of Larry (LJ) Muscato, one of the patriarchs of what we used to, and still do, affectionally refer to as the Family of Three. I had discussed this in the past, but there are many who were friended by LJ, who may have missed my previous mention of him. In the late 60’s and into the 70’s the Geyer, Muscato and Wiser families began when the three “Family” patriarchs, who shared the common employer The Air Preheater Co., bowled in a company league at the “Bowl-O-Var lanes in Bolivar. At one of the annual leagues “end of year” banquets the wives met each other and the rest is history. The families of the three couples grew together and the bond, which continues today, was cemented. As I commented about LJ’s birthday with mutual Facebook friends online last week, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Fortunately, I was hidden behind this laptop that I am writing on today, prohibiting readers from seeing those tears. I had a “September” poem that I intended to use as my closure today, but I will add it later.
For the past three weeks I have mentioned that I thought our migratory visitors had left for their southern “climes,” only to be proven wrong. On Saturday (the 31st) we had both Oriole and Grosbeak visitors. I haven’t seen any since the last sighting of a juvenile Grosbeak visiting on Tuesday. That one, I believe, was just passing through but won’t swear to that as our caged and screened in box feeder takes some getting used to and this visitor had no problem whatsoever hopping right up inside the cage to dine.
As I get older my “hide and seek” skills continue to develop further and further. I don’t even need another participant as I do well on my own. My two most recent examples include the searches for my newest camera/recorder and my glasses. Around a year ago I purchased a small Canon camera to use as a “portable” since- my 50X Fuji is a little too awkward to carry around. The Canon, while only 10X, is compact and can be carried in a pocket. After not being able to find it a couple of weeks ago I later finally found it in my pocket. By “pocket” I mean a pocket in my golf bag. I take the camera with me on golf outings just to use for scenery pictures or for that occasional memory jogging golfing picture. I had already checked all the pockets of my golf bag two times. Continuing to beat myself up over my lack of remembrance I was convinced that I had taken it with me on my last outing and was certain that somehow the loss was related to golfing. I called, and/or sent messages, to the last two golf courses that I had visited, asking if any had been turned in. None were. Now, I am not naïve recognizing that there was a chance that someone had found themselves a new camera.
Convinced later at night once last week that my golfing was part of the mystery disappearance of my camera, I decided to check my golf bag one last time. In one of the larger, deep pockets, already having been checked twice before, I reached in and ran across a smallish golf ball box. Moving that aside I reached even deeper into that pocket and instantly knew what I had put my hand on. Yep! Hidden there, well beyond my search capabilities until this time, was my camera.
The camera was a “hide and seek” co-conspirator with my glasses. Although I typically go to church choir practice wearing my contacts since I suffer extreme “dry eye” at times. I take my reading glasses just to have them available should the need to remove my contacts arises. As per usual I took my glasses case (and all 12 of my harmonicas) with me to Choir and Praise Band practice to be available if needed. I had piled everything “musical” on the back seat of my truck.
Later, sitting down to read my paper after practice, I removed my contacts and started looking for my glasses. I searched my “Cargo Pocket” shorts pockets, and nothing there. I went out to the truck and checked out the back seat where the other musical stuff had been left. I removed almost everything, including a new golf bag purchased earlier in the day, and checked behind and under all the seats without success. Back in the house I went just to check my pockets once again.
At this point I was convinced that I had laid my glasses case aside while at Choir practice so I messaged our choir director asking if he could check out my sitting location when and if he got a chance to visit the church the next day or so. He confirmed that he would.
Ever vigilant, or at least obsessed with not giving up until every stone was overturned, I returned to the truck once again. As I sat there in the truck thinking through where I had been, or what I might have done with the glasses, I lifted my arm off the mid-console storage compartment and opened it, not having considered that before. BAM! There it was accompanied by that rogue camera which had enjoyed my previous game of “Hide and Seek” so much that it teamed up with my glasses really challenging my “hunter instincts.” Looking back, it seemed reasonable at the time of choir practice arrival, to put my camera/recorder, and my glasses, “out of sight” in the truck arm rest storage compartment so they were at least hidden from sight. They were!
I was going to include two poems this week so decided to cut my Wrambling a little short. On second thought I feared it would Wramble too far off track. I do have all the rest of September to add the 2nd poem.
If you would like to offer suggestions for topics or pass on thoughts, comments or concerns you and reach me directly at IM.Wiserdad@gmail.com .
