Category Archives: essay

Hey, Bob!

at home, entertainment, essay, opinion, , , , , , ,

Our days are busy with schedules, appointments, working, and spring yard work.  As for me, I’ve been busy nearly every day with writing a new book and setting up outlines for other new works, too.

By the end of the day, Best Friend and I are ready for some relaxation.  We might catch some news to see what new ways the world is showing its craziness.  But what we really look forward to is watching the 1970s television program, “The Bob Newhart Show.”

This is Newhart’s second television program.  The first one, also called “The Bob Newhart Show,” was aired in 1961 on NBC, and it was a variety show.  That one we need to check out.  But this show that we are watching, he is a psychologist in Chicago.  It really takes us out of this world and into one that looks so much saner.

The dry humor is right up our alley, and the 1970s references are fun to catch.  The fashions – well, they show me that even though some of it was quirky, people still cared for their grooming and clothing.  Even a nurse on the show was dressed up for work.  No pajamas there!

Then there are the guest stars who weren’t quite at the star level yet – John Ritter, Teri Garr, Penny Marshall, Bernie Kopell, Pat Morita, Raul Julia, . . .

We’re only in Season 3; we’ve a few more seasons to go before we’re finished.

One of the most enlightening points of the program is that so many of the 1970s current topics are ones that people and politicians today are still talking about.  Goes to show and prove that politicians do a lot of talking without much action.  So far, I’ve heard comments on the show about gun control, abortion, and growing inflation.

All that changes is the date on the calendar.  And maybe the fashions.

As ever,

✿●▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬●✿

Angry Man.

comportment, essay, etiquette, manners, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Recently, I decided to tag along with Best Friend to an appointment.  I had some free time, so why not?

That beautiful Thursday morning offered refreshingly cool, fresh-smelling air.  The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, and traffic into town was light.  The cattle that are usually in the fields must have been sleeping in the barn because I didn’t see any as we drove along the back road.

We arrived early for his appointment, and while he was busy, I remained in the waiting room.  I tried to read a book, but the otherwise serene room was shattered by an elderly man who was loudly combative with one of the staff (she was being so pleasant and patient with him, on the other hand).  Well, that bruhaha kept me from reading.

Within a few minutes, Best Friend returned to get me so that we could leave, but not before the combative man stormed out of the building in front of us, his meek wife following.

By the time Best Friend and I got to the parking lot, Angry Man had just gotten into his car, slammed the car door, and started backing out of his space without looking.  We were right there, paused on the sidewalk, and he was so quick in backing out and slamming his car into “drive” that it seemed he stripped his gears.  He nearly ran us over.  He flipped us the finger and shouted something.  And he squealed his tires down the parking lot to the main road.

By the time we got to the main road in our car, he was stuck in the middle of the street.  Traffic was heavy and drivers in both directions were attempting to maneuver around him.

It’s really sad that some people choose to take out their unhappiness and anger on everyone around them rather than work on resolving whatever problem they have.  It’s really unproductive to spread anger, hate, and negativity.  Plus, it foments further negativity throughout the world, even if that world at the moment is within the immediate surroundings.  It’s bad enough the world beyond our own private spheres is spiraling towards discord, hatred, and a hot war.

On the way back that morning, Best Friend and I headed for breakfast at one of our favorite casual restaurants, and the pleasantness of the waitress, Theresa, and the owner, Lisa, and the laughter and light conversations from the other patrons proved that happiness, serenity, and positivity are far more productive in building a blissful environment.

As ever,

✿●▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬●✿

Serenity – Before It Shatters.

current events, essay, opinion, , , , , , , ,

The morning began with a heavy fog hanging in the field behind The Oasis at Four Queen Palms.  The air was quiet; not even the mockingbirds’ trills broke the tranquility.  No grinding, mechanical vehicle sounds came from the faraway road that buttresses the neighborhood.  It was a perfectly peaceful morning.

By noon, the fog dissipated.  Life stirred.  The birds chirped.  A brown squirrel ran across the porch screen.  Vehicle sounds could be now heard in the distance.

But it was in those early morning hours when this domain was covered in the thick fog that the world felt serene and at peace.

Life has always been uncertain.  No one can predict with sureness how his life will turn out, what the future will bring, how the cycle of life will progress.  We can only look ahead with hope and optimism.  We can plan all we want, but there are those factors that seem to insist on inserting themselves into our plans.

Our future is now filled with even more uncertainty as war drums are banging with a consistent cadence now.

The trouble is, real war is not as glamorous as the jingoes, belligerents, aggressors, politicians – call them what you will – enjoy portraying.  It will be miraculous if we dodge a hot state of war.

I’d rather the fog I see across the field at The Oasis not be from gunfire . . . .

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿ 

Some Things I Miss – In the Restaurant Realm

essay, opinion, tips for gracious living, , , , , ,

The other day, as Best Friend and I were eating at a local restaurant, I looked at my place setting:

Plastic plate, thin paper napkin, and lousy metal utensils.

These days, dining out is nothing to write home about insofar as the presentation of meals.  Even the waitstaff don’t wear nice uniforms anymore.  They look like slobs that just rolled in off the street after getting out of bed in a hurry.

Then I remembered dining in the Olden Days:

Chinaware, linen napkins, glassware, and real silverware.

Not so long ago, restaurant tables were set with cloth tablecloths and cloth napkins (or at least top quality, thick paper napkins).  The restaurants’ silverware was real – heavy, substantial, with sharp fork tines, and knife blades that could actually cut meat.  Some of the better restaurants even had their name engraved or embossed on all the utensils.  The china was anything but cheesy.  The glassware was real glass, not plastic made to look like glass.  The waiters and waitresses dressed nicely in uniforms.  Busboys – well, they were a standard, too.  And the waitstaff would stop by every so often to ask how everything was.  If you had leftovers, your meal was wrapped in tinfoil and placed in a cheerfully printed doggie bag – a picture of a happy dog looking forward to the meal inside.  Some restaurants even fashioned your leftovers in a tinfoil swan shape.

Nowadays, we get forks that can’t stab butter, knives that have no sharp cutting edge nor serrated edge, spoons with near-flat bowls that couldn’t hold an eighth of ounce of anything.  All the utensils of today are made with cheap, cheesy, thin stainless steel from China.  Drinkware is mostly plastic made to look like glass – Surprise!  Surprise!  The waitstaff are sloppy in their garb, with jeans and a T-shirt with the restaurant’s name printed on them.  They come by your table asking, “How’s it tastin’?” (I hear that more and more now), and it’s rare to see a busboy.  And your leftovers are no longer wrapped in tinfoil.  You get to take them home in a Styrofoam box that drips.

These are my general observations.  There are a few places where the tables are set with linen tablecloths today, and the place settings are top shelf.  But they are few and far between.  And to be more clear, I’m not talking about fast food places, like the national hamburger joints.  It’s expected to find paper napkins and plasticware there.  What I’m referring to are the sit-down restaurants that have more than not degenerated into shoddiness.  *Sigh.*

At home, I try my best to always have a pretty table set with our Fiestaware, our good silverware, and good quality napkins.

Well, at least somewhere, Best Friend and I have a place to eat where the experience is always classy.

If you want it done right, do it yourself.

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿

A DINING ROOM 2

Money Doesn’t Make Class.

comportment, current events, essay, gratitude, opinion, , , , , , ,

I read the news last week that a famous, one-time athlete donated millions of dollars to an organization.  The news was everywhere for a couple of days – just in case you didn’t see it the first day the news was publicized.

There was a time when donors would grant their wealth in a quiet manner, preferring to remain anonymous, and let the glory reflect in the good that their donations created for the recipients – not in the act of them handing over a check.

In an episode of M*A*S*H, “Death Takes a Holiday,” Major Winchester received packages of chocolates from home.  Of course, the other officers were incensed that Charles would not share his chocolates with them.  They were even more infuriated that Charles donated a can of oysters to the orphans, which everyone saw.  Eventually, we learn that Charles had been giving his expensive chocolates to the orphans and insisted on anonymity, according to his family tradition.  It was a selfless gift that was made even better by the anonymity.

You see, there is great merit in doing good without all the “Look at me!  Look at me!” attitudes so prevalent today.  The athlete who broadcasted his donation consciously chose to make his action public, and all that I can surmise is that it was his selfish “Look at me!”  Look what I did!” moment.

I believe that is low class, and distasteful.

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿

Darkest Before the Awakening?

books, comportment, current events, essay, etiquette, grooming, opinion, relationships, respect, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A few nights ago, I watched a performance straight out of Washington, DC that brought me to think once again about how much the world has changed.

There was, once upon a time, a world where people created beauty, and everyone saw that beauty around them, to be celebrated and enjoyed by everyone who appreciated such things.  This beauty came in the form of decorated buildings, attractive fashion, respectful language, comprehensible music, well-made everyday items, and the like.

Yet lately, the world is quite the opposite.  To see beauty, one must search as an archeologist on a dig.

Earlier this week, the Grammys presented a show that featured a quite plump man dressed as a devil in red, bellowing, “Unholy!  Unholy!”  Around him danced more red devils.  Up around him flew pyrotechnics.

Last fall, Jokey the Prez read a gravely malicious speech in front of Independence Hall in Philadelphia, complete with red lighting on either side of him and he himself shadowed in near total darkness.  His State of the Union Speech this week was steeped in lie after lie, and his twisted, creepy smiles had a luciferian charm about them.

Out in the world, I rarely see people that present themselves well.  I barely see anyone with combed hair, or dressed in anything other than workout clothes or ripped up clothes.

I hear vulgar language everywhere.  I hear it in passing in public.  People I meet feel free to pepper in expletives with nary a second thought.  Sadly, that kind of tasteless language is also prevalent in print.

This isn’t to say that there was nothing ugly about the world before these currently strange times.  Yes, it was there, but the beauty, light, and respect were more prevalent then than today.

I now observe something about people that is really disconcerting:  It appears that people want to be intentionally ugly – slovenly, repulsive, and foul – and thereby to blend in with the intentionally ugly world, to become one with the ugliness enveloped in the darkness of hate, self-loathing, and nihility is to become nothing themselves.

In the current fad of eschewing Our Creator, so many, many people are attempting to take on the role of God.  They fall into idol worship:  They medically and surgically change their sex; they attempt to control climate; they embrace abortion.  They go on to celebrate sexual perversions, and they break up the family unit even further.  They call names, lie to your face, and spew hatred, and if you don’t go along with them, there’s something wrong with you.

They laugh in the face of God.

I read that people believe that we are now in the End Times.  Perhaps we are.  And perhaps we are on our way to the next Great Awakening.

We can only hope and have faith.

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿

Carrots, Mothballs, and a Crazy Afghan.

at home, books, current events, essay, home economics, , , , , ,

At this point, 2023 is 1/12th finished.  January went by at a snail’s pace for me, even though there were so many tasks accomplished:

January saw me write four new short stories – “The Jeweled Slippers,” “The Grand Duke and His Valet,” “Cave Justice,” and “Three Scottish Pearls.”  All are now available on Amazon Kindle for your reading pleasure, as found HERE.

Best Friend and I noticed that our local grocery store hasn’t had fresh carrots in stock for about two weeks now.  In fact, many items are missing from the shelves:  oyster crackers, canned tomatoes, many Oriental cooking ingredients, and contact lens solution is out (I took the last bottle, and finding it there was a surprise).

Also, when Best Friend and I stopped by a department store earlier this week, we noticed the unmistakable strong odor of mothballs in the clothing department.  We speculated that the inventory was sitting on the supply ship for months, hence the mothball odor.  It was a turn off, and we soon left the store and headed to another to continue our shopping.

For the past four months, I have been busy crocheting a crazy quilt afghan with the leftover yarn I have.  I am getting close to finishing it, and since I still have a lot of yarn remaining, I’ll most likely make another afghan, but in a different pattern.  The afghans will come in handy for the chilly, yet ideally short, winter months here at The Oasis at Four Queen Palms.

I am toying with the idea of writing a short home economics book with the idea of smart money saving hints and tips for our time.  I have it formulated in jotted down notes and outlined in my thoughts.  If this idea comes to fruition, I may have it ready by late spring this year.  Stay tuned.

And during January, I read two books by Alice Duer Miller, “The Happiest Time of Their Lives” and “Ladies Must Live.”  Both were written at the turn of the century and were enjoyable to read.  I sprinkled in a current magazine, “Taste of Home,” for good measure.

Now, the calendar turned to February – a month of a Saint Valentine’s Day celebration, preparations for Lent, and a bit of yard work and planting planning.  Although this is a short month, it will be packed with activities, which I will be happy to share with you here.

Here’s to optimistic thoughts and good actions on our part.  The world is becoming darker, and we surely need more light and optimism.

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿

Cool Nights, Warm Hearts.

at home, books, essay, festivity, gardening, holidays, relationships, spring, winter, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Winter here at The Oasis at Four Queen Palms has been chilly longer than I remember.  Usually, the cold weather lasts about a month – a period of time where jeans and a warm jacket or heavy sweater are part of the fashion.  Not so this year, yet I did manage to wear shorts yesterday.  So, it might finally be warming up.

We were working in our yard yesterday with the usual late winter clean up.  The sun was shining brightly, and in the trees, birds were singing happily.  It was quiet otherwise, except for Turban, a neighbor living nearby with The Wild One.  She was yakking on her phone, but not wearing her trademark turban.  Earlier that morning, The Wild One went somewhere on his motorcycle – vroom! vroom! vroom!  They are a story for another essay.  Maybe.

I noticed that some of our more tender plants died from the heavy frosts in December.  I cut back many of them to about two or three inches because I could see they are still viable.  Over the next few days, I will be researching replacement plants and making a list for a trip to the nursery.  I have some ideas, but I need to research to make sure my ideas will work in the specific bare spots.  The azaleas have buds, and one already popped open her red blooms.

The evenings now are warmer, but still cool.  A snuggle next to the burning fireplace is a warm experience – add a cup of hot tea and a good old book, and there’s a night to enjoy!

Saint Valentine’s Day is only a few weeks away.  I am planning something, but I am not sure of the “what” yet, except that it will be tailored to us.  Oh, that reminds me:  it’s time to address and send out a few Valentines to those I and/or we care about.  I usually add a short note to update the recipients on what we’ve been up to since the Holidays.  It’s a nice gesture to keep in touch with people and it goes both ways with the more caring and interested people.

I remember when I was in grade school, one of the art projects we did was to cover a shoe box with festive – and hopefully Valentine-y themed – wrapping paper.  Mom or Dad would cut a small slit in the top, and these decorative shoe boxes were ready for the Valentine’s Day card exchange in the classroom.  It was so much fun to see who gave us a card, and they were so much prettier than today’s cards.  They usually were a single piece, covered in silver glitter, and with a fun sentiment so appropriate for youngsters.  They came in a box of twenty or so, complete with white envelopes.

Though the evenings might be cool here at The Oasis at Four Queen Palms, warm hearts still prevail.

As ever,

✿●▬▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬▬●✿

FIREPLACE WHITE

A Cup of Reality.

essay, etiquette, manners, opinion, transparency, , , , , , , ,

The other morning, Best Friend returned to the house to pour a cup of coffee.  While doing so, he quipped, “You can’t pour a cup of black coffee into a black cup wearing dark sunglasses.”

You see, he was doing just that, and it was nearly a disaster on the countertop.  The black coffee streaming into the black cup whilst he was still wearing his dark sunglasses made it impossible for him to gauge the progress of his task.  Thus, it almost developed into a disaster, yet he averted it only when he abruptly realized he could not see how much coffee he was pouring into the cup.  He snappily removed his sunglasses, and he finished his task at hand, unencumbered.  Disaster averted.

Life itself is much like that.  When we allow the shadows of denial, lip service, gaslighting, obliviousness, or what have you, to throw a penumbra over the clear reality of our lives, we remain in the dark and suffer for it, whether we consciously realize it or not.  Many of us will go through our lives not realizing what is stopping us from doing something we need/should/must do.  Some of us will walk along life’s path, going only so far as to see some perceived victimization and stop right there on that corner, to wail and moan about it.  Then there are those of us who see what our roadblocks are and do something about them and then move on with our lives.

Admittedly, I sometimes don’t see the shadows that are negatively affecting my life.  In fact, I might just go merrily along, believing and accepting that the excuses given to me ad infinitum are legitimate.  Now, I am a realist here.  Some of the excuses – or shall I say, some of the reasons – are legitimate, and everything falls into place eventually.  But when I hear excuses or gaslighting thrown in my direction with never a real effort made to make good on the promised matter, I chalk it up to that person not having the backbone to be forthright about not delivering on said promised matter.  It might be a cry for attention on their part, or lack of backbone.  I’m not here to psychoanalyze them.  No one can do that, in fact.  (That’s an essay for another time.)

To make my point clearer, let’s take a jaunt down Memory Lane.  When I was in my early 20s, I had a date with a guy.  He and I went to a co-worker’s home for a Christmas dinner and an evening of playing bridge, as did everyone else in our small divisional office within our governmental organization.  (For reference and a fun fact, he worked in the Logistics Division, and I worked in the Management Systems Division.)  There were eight couples at the co-worker’s home.  We had a nice time mingling, and we both had pleasant conversations in his car both to and from the party.  He promised to call me for another date.  And promised.  Yet, he never did.  While I had hoped he would call, by his fourth promise, I didn’t care anymore.  I eventually figured that he didn’t have the backbone to say nothing about the matter, let alone call me.  It would have been better to come out and say he wouldn’t call, than to string me along.  As nice of a guy he was, in the long run he would not be a good partner, let alone a platonic friend, because of his lack of straightforward communication.  Good heavens!

There are the people who promise to call, but never do, even after you call them every so often.  It reminds me of the television commercial I saw a long while back:  “Nobody’s calling you!”

Well, isn’t that the truth!

It is much like a neighbor we had who consistently promised to get together, but his promises were never fulfilled.  I chalked that up to him liking to hear himself talk – the “It’s the Thought that Counts” blueprint of virtual-signaling.

Over the years, events such as those eventually taught me to look at life behind the shadows of deceit.  Call me cynical, call me skeptical, call me jaded.  Life events taught me to believe when I see action – at least with repeat offenders.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to understand why people gaslight or completely throw a shadow on a situation.  Unfortunately, I have seen more and more of it recently – at least more so over these past three years.  It almost appears that too many people have become lazy, or dare I say it?  Uncaring, indifferent, and cold.  Throw darkness on it; I meant well; no one will notice seems to be the mantra.

Perhaps I live in a different world – a world where manners, graciousness, and straightforwardness exist and actually matter.  That is my world.  So now, I don’t bother with people whom I don’t hear from anymore.  I see things for what they are.  I see people for who they are.

It would be a better world and people would get along beat when the cloak of darkness is lifted.   Why not be forthright and honest and transparent?

Don’t pour black coffee into a black cup whilst wearing dark sunglasses.

I’m not drinking from it.

As ever,

✿●▬▬●✿ ©2023 The Oasis at Four Queen Palms ✿●▬▬●✿