The Ugly One

My friend Judy said, “Its pajama weather and we need to put pajamas on Jake (the dog) again but Sam says, ‘Don’t tell Betty anything, she will write about it.’”

“Oh don’t worry about Sam; he loves reading about himself in the newspaper. He just acts touchy,” I assured her about her husband.

My daughter, Allison, called and said, “I feel terrible, I called Daisy the ugly one and she might not make it.”

I said, “I know, I called Daisy ugly too. Your sister, Angel, reprimanded me about saying anything in front of Daisy about her long ears; and warned me about writing anything about her in the newspaper.”

I told your sister, “Oh you love when I write about Daisy. Don’t be so touchy.”

So here I go again. No one wants me to write about them, but they all love to read about themselves in the newspaper. Go figure. I’m writing nice things about Daisy this week. I guess I need to watch what I say, seems everyone is touchy these days.

This week proved to be a lesson for all of us. Our daughter, Angel, owns Daisy. Angel is affectionate about animals. I don’t hold the same affection, as you have all guessed. So when some one says they spent $2,000.00 at the animal vet, I ask, “Why? It doesn’t make sense.”

Something happened to Daisy. She started bleeding from her mouth. My daughter called our son-in-law and said, “Will you come over and look at my dog?”

He did and said, “We need to call a vet.” Which they did, they hauled poor Daisy off to the vet and after a blood transfusion, oxygen, x-rays and several days at the veterinary’s office, Daisy still had a fifty-fifty chance. You can imagine the doctor’s bill.

I thought I was being nice and sympathetic and gave Angel my advice as she was leaving for work, “Prepare to let her go. There are lots of dogs at the Humane Shelter.”

Apparently I said the wrong thing. My sympathetic words brought more tears. Now everyone at her work was rallying around her. “Take my shift, go see your dog, I understand.” They advised her, “Give her a chance. You’ve already spent X amount of money. She is worth it.”

My son-in-law, the voice of reason said, “Decide how much you can spend. You can’t be emotional about it.”

I thought that was sound advice. In my mind, I am thinking, it’s going to take years for her to pay off the doctor. But I guess some things are worth paying for if someone is willing to pay for it.

What did we all learn? My daughter, Allison and I have learned not to call someone else’s dog ugly. Some times we pay later for what we say earlier.

Some people are willing to pay a long time for something important to them. Some of us are willing to write what is important to us and pay for it later.

As for Daisy, let’s just say she is literally worth her weight in gold. Sam’s dog, Jake, will continue to wear pajamas even if he doesn’t want anyone to know about them. And when I hear a story to write, logic doesn’t come into play, either. I am willing to deal with touchy people and pay later. Sam’s not talking to me, but Judy loves talking about Jake. You win a few and lose a few.

Final Brushstroke! We will all pay for what we think is important and we will usually pay later for it.

It Isn't Greener on the Other Side

Money makes it look greener on the other side until you are on the other side. Al and I were in Placitas on a Sunday morning; looking out at a view of Albuquerque. I marveled at Al’s brother’s home with the indoor swimming pool and the outside infinity pool.

David, Al’s brother, wanted to talk. In a million dollar, 5,000 square foot home he lives alone, he is a great conversationalist and when the fanfare is cleared, he speaks from his heart. He has been a millionaire at least four times and lost it all. Or he has given it to his x-wives. Each time he has always assured everyone he would make it back again and he always has.

In the 80’s, our family sat in Pagosa looking at a snowy picture on television; and watched David run out to the Double Eagle Hot Air Balloon. He had a bottle of wine in his hand and greeted his best friend, Ben Abrusio when he landed his transatlantic flight in Japan. His best friend, Ben, died not too many years later in a plane crash. It was devastating to David. He has seen the up’s and down’s, the in and out’s of life.

We were spending a couple of days with David in Albuquerque and in the middle of this Sunday morning conversation the phone rang. Then it rang again and again and again. Each time he answered and a different woman was on the other end of the line.

“I was thinking of you too,” He said to each one of them.

He hung up and said, “These women are all bored.”

The phone rang again. He answered.

“Oh that was Caroline. She was wondering why she hadn’t heard from me for the last two weeks. I told her it was over.”

You probably remember Caroline, a knockout, twenty-two years old, size 2, Double D’s with twin babies. Apparently, at a wine tasting party, she got out of hand, embarrassed David and he called it off. Now she is calling wondering why she hadn’t heard from him.

David says to us as he hung up the phone. “She’s trouble.”

The phone rang again. It was a divorced woman. David explained to us as he hung up the phone, “She gets eleven thousand dollars a month in alimony. That’s what I said, eleven thousand a month and she is bored.”

David continued, “I know her x-husband and he is a good guy. She said she was bored with him and now she is bored because she is single. She spends and spends and can not spend it fast enough before the next month.”

I told him, “Tell her to invest in herself. Go back to school, help little children, start a small business, do something productive. She needs to know the Lord. God’s got a purpose for her life.”

“They don’t want to hear that, they can’t handle it,” he says.

“It doesn’t sound like she is handling it the way it is.”

Then another woman called, “She is married, but bored,” David said, “I told her to think twice before she gets a divorce. It’s no fun being alone. She thinks she is in love with me and thinks I am going to marry her. I’m not.”

“Are you leading these women on?” I asked him.

“No, I tell all of them I have no intentions of marrying them. They all want to get married. They had good husbands, but they were bored and now they are single and bored.”

“When these women turn forty, they start looking around wanting more. Their husbands are good guys but are complacent and they don’t see what their wives are looking for. They need to get it together, too.”

Then David said, “This life is a dead end. It’s empty but I’m not going to change. I’m lonely and I am not made to be alone. I am glad you and Al have stayed together all these years.”

I said to David, “It wasn’t always easy, and several times we both wanted to throw in the towel, but we stayed together. We cared enough to keep fighting for the marriage. By God’s grace, He kept us together. I have never been bored. I can’t understand that line of thinking.”

In the walls of this million dollar home, with all the posh furniture and beautiful furnishings, it sure looks greener from the out side. But David is the first to admit, it isn’t.

Final Brushstroke! Money makes it look greener. There is sadness in my heart for David and all his young girlfriends. I tease him all the time and he takes it and laughs with me. Aren’t we all trying to get it together? But, does anyone want to hear the truth?

Keep smiling, just keep your mouth closed.

Al and I flew to California for a big gala event in which Cal Thomas was invited to speak. Cal Thomas is a columnist and author, syndicated in over 550 newspapers and is heard on over 300 radio stations. Our daughter heads up this event and the front row seats are reserved for us. It is important we look our best and make our daughter proud.

Just one day before the event, we were having dinner and I looked at Al. He was missing his front tooth. I asked him, “Where is your tooth?”

“I don’t know.” He looked around.

“Al, you ate your tooth.”

“I guess I did.”

“What are you going to do? You can’t smile.”

My daughter, Cricket said, “Why does it always happen to Daddy? The best we do, we always look like the Beverly Hillbillies with the rocking chair on top.”

“I know,” I said, thinking how fitting her statement was; considering how we arrived in California a few days earlier. Al had taken advantaged of the airline’s offer: suitcases fly free. This meant no restrictions on Al and all he could carry, unless he wanted to pay for the extra.

Not only that, Al and our son-in-law hit a few garage sales earlier in the week. I told them both, “If it doesn’t fit, don’t get.” Did they hear me? No. They came home with a whole car load of stuff.

“The man said he was getting rid of it and I could have it for free.”

“But Al, we can only carry a certain amount on the plane.”

“I got this brand new large suitcase for $2.00; I’ll put all the stuff in it.”

“Why did you bring home all those screws? You have a 55 gallon bucket of screws at home?”

“I got them with the plastic cases. They were free.”

“But the weight?”

“They don’t weigh that much and I am going to put them in our garage sale next spring.”

“You are taking home garage sale stuff to put in a garage sale next year?”

“I couldn’t pass it up.”

Back to the tooth! I looked around. I didn’t bring everything I owned. I left my paints in Pagosa, now I needed them. “I will fix it up. Al, give me your partial plate.”

“I’ll just go without my teeth. I can’t go with that big gap.”

“Al, it will look worse without your teeth.”

“Yes, Daddy, you can’t go without your teeth. Maybe I can take it to a dentist tomorrow.”

“We don’t have time, the dinner is tomorrow night. Hand me your teeth, Honey.”

Al cleaned his partial plate and handed it to me. “What about White Out?” I asked.

“Better still, I’ve got white French nail polish; I paint the tips of my fingernails.” Cricket said.

“No, no, no. that won’t look good.” Al resisted.

“Trust me. Get me the French nail polish.” I had Al’s partial plate in my hand; I wasn’t going to give his teeth back until I had them fixed. “It’s got a pearl finish. It will be perfect.”

I went to work. “If I had a little Plaster Paris, Bondo or a little wood filler, I could make you a tooth and I could Superglue it to your partial plate.”

I looked at Al. He was devastated. “Just kidding, I am just going to paint a little tooth on your partial plate; no one will be the wiser.”

“Betty, that’s $10,000.00 worth of dental work you have in your hand. Don’t play with it.”

“No problem, Honey. I’m an artist; I know what I am doing. You will just need to smile with your mouth shut. I’ll have you fixed up in a minute.”

“OK, let me look at them,” I said as I handed them back to Al. “Good as new and it was free.”

The day of the gala event, Al visited the neighbor. The neighbor was pulling out wild blackberry bushes and gave a bunch to Al to take back to Pagosa.

Al was smiling all the way home. “Look what I got. The man was getting rid of them. I need to put some water in them.”

Ten minutes later, Al walked in the door, with an inch gash on his head.”

“Al you are bleeding. Let me fix it.”

Al looked at the big white bandage and said, “That looks terrible.”

“If I had my paints, I could paint a flower on it or camouflage it some way. You’ll just have to go this way.”

I looked over at Al at the banquet. He gave me a big smile and a wink, showing his fake tooth and the white bandage riding on his head.

I looked at him, shook my head and thought, “God loves you. I love you too. I wouldn’t have missed that wink and smile in this moment for anything.”

Final Brushstroke! Free is not always the best way to go, but sometimes it is our only way if we don’t want to miss the moment. Good thing an artist is in the house.

Cashing in on frustration and Hitting Pay Dirt!

At a writer’s conference, we were asked to read something we wrote. I read the article about my frustration with my sweet Al. You might have remembered it, Traveling with Sweet Al and checking into a posh hotel in Reno, Nevada. Everyone laughed and laughed.

An editor in the group said, “Send me one of your humorous articles for my publication.” A broker for writers asked me to join his team of writers also. “Your humorous articles will work for a marriage counseling magazine.”

Who would have thought I could write for a marriage counseling magazine? Make money writing about Al? About couples who fight? And get paid for it? I was about to hit Pay Dirt with a 300 word humorous piece.

I arrived home, kissed Al at the door. He thought I was excited to see him and I should go away more often.

I looked him over in his camouflage. He told me about his hunting that morning. He shot and missed a ten-point buck. His good shooting eye wasn’t so good any more.

I listened to his tale of woe. Even camouflaged, Al couldn’t hide from me. Like a ravenous dog, I was drooling and licking my chops; Al was looking like pork chops to a starving writer.

I moved to the computer. He didn’t know how rich he could make me. I’d tell him later. I was counting my money in my mind, but my fingers froze to the computer.

Al looked at me with loving eyes. I felt a little guilty, but I went for it anyway. I wrote a 300 word humorous piece and hit send to both publications. They might be carrying stories about Sweet Al soon.

I know there is a bone of contention buried somewhere around here, I need a shovel. I’m digging until I hit Pay Dirt. I might be asking advice from a marriage counselor soon, but for now, I am going for it.

The Final Brushstroke! Digging up trouble can make for a great story, but not necessarily good for a great marriage.