#GBE2: Popularity

When it comes to popularity, I win hands down… with my dogs. People are not so easy. 'How to be popular?' has been the age old question: What makes some people disgustingly popular while others aren't?

My daughter on Halloween as Regina George

One could say people are popular because they are nice, but let's face it. Everyone knows a viciously mean person who is or was ultra popular.

I believe popularity comes from self-confidence and starts at a young age. On a field trip to the fire station, a fireman told the Kindergarten class to sit on the ground. While most kids lined up in a row, one little guy sat by himself several feet behind his classmates. Slowly little bodies slid back until the lone boy was surrounded by kids. --Okay, I confess: he was mine and has remained popular to this day.

I was never my son. It takes a lot of courage to sit by yourself as a young child and not worry whether or not folks will join you. I always wanted to be a part of the crowd in elementary school, but didn't have the confidence to be my own person.

Later in Junior High School when popularity meant following the crowd, I wore shoes that looked like they belonged to a bowler. Kids made fun of me for my shoes, but I liked them! I enjoyed rebelling against my peers while everyone else wanted to tackle teachers and parents. Not me! Interesting enough, no one joined me in my pride in being different.

A lot of us writer types may have been weird kids; but, if we were the exceptionally popular folks, we'd have nothing to write about, would we?

I leave you now with a clip from one of my favorite movies: Mean Girls.

Silly Sunday: Repairs

After every flight, UPS pilots fill out a form, called a 'gripe sheet,' which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. Mechanics correct problems and document repairs on form.

Here are maintenance complaints submitted by UPS ' pilots (marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S). 
 

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.

S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

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P: Something loose in cockpit

S: Something tightened in cockpit

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P: Dead bugs on windshield.

S: Live bugs on back-order.

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P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.

S: Evidence removed.

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P: DME volume unbelievably loud.

S: DME volume set to more believable level.

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P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.

S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

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P: Suspected crack in windshield.

S: Suspect you're right.

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P: Number 3 engine missing.

S: Engine found on right wing after brief search

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P: Aircraft handles funny. 

S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.

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P: Target radar hums.

S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

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P: Mouse in cockpit.

S: Cat installed.

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P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.

S: Took hammer away from midget

Writer's Post: Ghosts of Halloweens Past

Once upon a Halloween, I was a kid who didn't need parents to escort me from door to door, nor did I wear expensive store-bought costumes. After someone brought me a poncho from Mexico, I was a Mexican Hat Dancer for three years. Of course being a hat dancer meant planning a routine because someone would always ask me for a trick. 

Get it? "Trick or Treat." In the St. Louis of the 1960s that expression meant exactly what it said. Kids rang the doorbell, said "Trick or Treat," and gave the homeowner a choice: Give candy immediately or ask for a trick. As a Mexican Hat Dancer, I did a dance. In other years, I wandered the neighborhood with a joke to tell. 

When I mention this tradition around Memphis, people look at me cross-eyed. That's not the only Halloween culture clash from moving 300 miles south. The first time my husband left to take our son trick-or-treating, he came home and asked, "Did you give out a candy?"

My kids: Halloween 1995

I said, "Sure. I gave out lots of candy. One to this kid, another to that."

He said, "But did you give out a candy?"

I hadn't a clue that he was trying to find out whether or not we had candy left. Go figure. We've yet to give out a candy, except for the year that the neighbors threw a huge party with gazillion kids, but didn't tell anyone they were coming.

Another Halloween memory of mine was Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts. Every year, David's mom made homemade donuts that she'd give to all the children. I never ate one. 

Kids can be quite literal, and that I was when Mom always said, "Never eat anything unwrapped." So year after year I'd skip those sweet smelling snacks that all the kids would go out of their way for. If I could go back in time, I'd eat one of her donuts on Halloween; but, it's not all bad. The memory of skipping donuts inspired my latest novel. I wonder if this manuscript would even exist if I'd eaten a donut. I also wonder if her son, who grew up to be a chef, bakes these donuts on Halloween. If he does, I just might have to go to St. Louis and ring his bell.