Motivating your employees can be tough in a suppressed economy, especially when fear is the key economic ingredient from the purveyors of the national news.
So, how do you encourage confidence in your employees, rather than fear?
Folks are basically motivated by four things – stuff, security, significance, and, finally the biggie, a vision combined with a solid relationship with the one in authority. If you missed the first part of this three-part series, you can find it on this paper’s website.
The first three motivators are important and can make a good boss even more effective.
However, a terrific boss creates a vision and secures the trust of his employees.
How?
Creating a vision is simple. Figure out how you are serving your customers. Now put that into one sentence.
In a free market, if you serve people, success will follow. If your employees understand that they are offering something that is worthwhile, they will feel like their days at work are valuable.
Having a solid relationship with your employees can be a little more challenging.
One man I know told me that if people did not treat him right, he would teach them to respect him by force.
He had respect and fear confused.
You earn people’s trust, not by scaring them to death, by being trustworthy.
You earn their respect by being trustworthy for a long period of time.
So, how does trustworthy look?
The trustworthy person does what is hard and sacrificial.
The trustworthy person puts other people’s interests ahead of his own.
He tells the truth. If he doesn’t know how his business will survive in these uncertain times, he keeps his employees posted so they can make wise decisions.
He leads in giving them opportunities to help each other by setting an example when life throws out a curve ball like cancer or family crises.
He doesn’t treat them like dependant children, instead he rejoices at the opportunities they have to gain skills and knowledge.
Most importantly, his employees know that there are certain lines he won’t cross.
Leadership just means creating opportunities for employees to follow their heart.
Serving others, both customers and employees, is the hallmark of successful business owners.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label guy stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guy stuff. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Night Before Hunter’s Christmas
I am not much of a poet, as you will see if you read further.
My apologies.
Hunting season and the holidays collide this time every year and all Texas women know what that means.
In case you are giving your husband a utensil useful for hunting, like say a gun, this Christmas, this little ditty can serve as an incentive to send your husband on a scavenger hunt that is sure to entertain your children and other loved ones.
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
The children were tucked in and trembling with fear because a cowboy was loose and protecting their gear.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with glee and there was amo beribboned and under the tree.
Other folks get golf clubs, fishing rods, and the occasional book.
Not at this house; no, take another look.
The gun safe is locked with its dangerous load.
Nothing new there, so don’t bother with the code.
With another weapon, we’ll all feel more secure.
You’ll be the envy of all alpha males, that’s for sure.
Burglars, be warned: Best stay out of sight!
This Christmas is protected and locked up tight!
Santa is jolly and his message is blunt:
Merry Christmas to all and to all a safe hunt!
I’m sure my husband is hoping the hunt for a new gun will become an annual Christmas morning tradition.
Personally, I think a good novel and a box of chocolates are more in keeping with the peaceful sentiments of the season.
Bambi agrees with me.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Gun Safety; a Mom’s most-feared the oxymoron
A kid brought a BB gun on a Bullard school bus causing a serious stir on the rumor mill among worried parents, but fortunately no other disturbances.
Thanks to the alert and quick handling by school officials, and some well thought out policies and training, we are not reporting a tragedy in this week’s paper.
When I heard the rumors, my first thought was: There but for the grace of God go I.
My husband was in charge of gun safety at our house because, well, bluntly my dad did such a good job on gun safety over 40 years ago that I am paranoid of guns to this day.
Gun safety is an oxymoron, if you ask me.
Thank heavens God gave my children two parents because my husband has a more judicious, less hysterical approach.
I never worried about our daughters, too much, being hormonally predisposed to a sensible, practical approach to weapons.
In fact, one of our daughters recently finished her Concealed Handgun License, or CHL. I love to brag about her perfect score on the target shooting section of the training.
Her daddy rewarded her by buying her a sleek, small black handgun that looks like a toy. I have no idea how it feels cus I won’t get near it.
Knowing she is licensed to carry actually makes me sleep sounder at night.
My son is getting there, too, but that hasn’t always been the case.
As a 3-year-old, he would slip out of the house and stop traffic with his plastic cowboy pistols. The main danger was to his mother who suffered serious panic attacks on multiple occasions with that kid’s adventures.
Fortunately, the neighbors quickly grew to anticipate the unexpected and graciously proceeded with extreme caution while he outgrew the sheriff stage.
We took the obvious precautions with our guns.
-We locked them in a gun safe with a combination, not a key, lock.
-I insisted on trigger locks on each and every gun inside the safe.
-We kept the ammo in a separate, secure place on the other side of the house.
Our kids know “All guns are always loaded, even the ones you think are unloaded.” They also know to get the heck out of Dodge if they see anyone holding a gun in an unsafe way or place. Run, don’t walk.
We live in Texas. People keep as many guns as they keep Bibles in their homes. And that’s a lot.
But for heaven’s sakes, there are things you can do to keep guns out of the hands of children.
Do so, or suffer serious personal consequences, folks.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Putting the Profit in Non-profit
All successful organizations are purpose-driven.
Whether it’s a good cause or just having fun, a shared sense of purpose is what unites people.
Unfortunately, with the recession, many non-profits are checking their budget and squirming for lack of funds, even those groups who are united around a worthy purpose.
With so many inexpensive booths available at fairs and festivals this fall, a booth is an excellent way to get the word out about your organization AND pick up some spare change.
But what to sell? Anything that is fun to buy.
That especially includes any paraphernalia pertaining to hobbies and sports, like:
-Hunting (pocketknives, camo hunting vests, ammo belts),
-Fishing (lures; antique lures, rods, or tackle boxes),
-Auto, Boat, and Motorcycle accessories (special cleansers or chamois, flashlights, gadgets, gizmos, and guy stuff),
-Grilling (small recipe books created by your organization, tools like tongs or spatulas, spice packages),
-Golf (golf balls or towels with funny sayings, emergency medical kits with sunscreen and band aids and funny “remedies” for bad golf days).
If you still need ideas for what people want to buy, here are a few more suggestions:
-Spend the day at Canton with some club members and search for ideas.
-Walmart has a whole aisles of ideas of stuff that people want to buy, especially the “impulse” displays that always catch me right before the cash register.
-Don’t miss a chance for members to clean out their attics and re-purpose gently used stuff to raise funds for your group.
-Why not plan a special fundraiser dinner for a few days later and sell tickets at your booth?
Finally, most importantly, new members mean new income in dues and donations, so don’t forget to recruit. Come prepared with brochures that clearly state the purpose of your organization.
Having enthusiastic volunteers ready to answer questions will make recruitment more successful. Have clipboards with membership applications ready that include contact info like email, phone, and address.
If you offer a discount to anyone joining that day, you may find that new members are eager to write a check for membership dues on the spot. Be sure to have a lock box available and a member assigned to be responsible for it.
In fact, if you plan your booth strategy well, you may find your next big project is training new members and figuring out what to do with all that extra cash.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Highway 155 Dives
Okay, folks, the lake is calling East Texans.
Yep, the sun is shining and it’s time to drive the byways, take in the wild flower covered rolling hills, and head to the country. If you are going my way, down Highway 155 towards Lake Palestine, here are the places we love to eat.
Starting at Loop 323 and heading for Frankston:
Scooter Pete’s. Browse past all the motorcycle paraphernalia and belly up at owners Denise “Nisee” and Pete Mauk’s Iron Horse Grill for a fabulous breakfast served ‘til 11pm or order the Andre Burger, a cheeseburger topped with a fried egg, all day long, Mondays through Saturdays. You can order it with a side of some of the best hash browns in East Texas. 903.581.0810
Noonday Store. What would we do without our regular fix of their addictive chicken sandwich smothered in grilled green peppers and onions, their Angus beef hamburgers, or one of their daily plate lunch specials? I get cravings for the cobblers. Order ahead and take homemade yeast rolls for parties. 903.534.9498.
Purple Pig. My favorite thing on the menu is the tender slices of slow-grilled turkey breast, but I bet you’ll also love the barbeque beef, pulled pork, or the random nights when owner Shane Swan boils up crawfish. 903.825.6800.
Star Bar-B-Q. Just past the last bridge, as we say in these parts, don’t blink or you’ll miss Lane Mills’ barbeque joint where ribs etcetera share the grill with pulled pork. They just added a new deck, but check out the recliners inside, too. Cigars are welcome and draft beer is served. 903.876.2209
Lake Palestine Marina. Most romantic destination in our area if your idea of a romantic meal out is a steamy cup of coffee accompanied with a perfect omelet, bacon, and hash browns soaked in ketchup. All with a view of the lake. Larry and his wife have years of experience in the resort business and it shows in their hospitality. 903.825.3600.
Maxwell’s Drug Store. Old folks like me remember when the best place to get a chicken salad sandwich was at the soda shop at any small town pharmacy. The problem is, most modern pharmacies no longer have food counters. Unless you are in Frankston, of course. The Soda Shoppe, at he back of Maxwell’s, features daily lunch specials like homemade chicken enchiladas or baked pork chops, but who can resist their chicken salad? 903.876.2323.
If your idea of a dive is icky, dirty, or out of the way, these spots are not for you. Or if you are looking for honky tonks.
I’m defining “dive” here as unexpected, fun, family-friendly, AND definitely clean; or I’d never talk my husband into stopping.
Our family hopes you support these 155 Dives. See ya there!
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Blame Now; Credit Later
“I’ll take the blame now because it will be credit later,” said the father of my children, amidst the protests of an unhappy family including me.
Now we quote him on a regular basis when decisions require a backbone.
My own dad has some gem-dandy ways of making us think.
“Will it matter in two years?” was his favorite response whenever I worried about the trials teenagers face in high school.
When folks are unkind to us now, I quote my dad to my kids as we walk away. “They probably have hemorrhoids,” was his way of telling us as kids to be patient because you never know what personal stuff might be going on in someone’s life to make ‘em cranky.
Since college students often get bogged down in choosing what they believe to be their life-long career, my dad also gave my kiddoes some sage advice when they started college, “Set a goal and change it if you change your mind.” He told them that in the long run they would get farther by moving ahead, rather than wavering in uncertainty.
What are some other favorite words from dads?
"I love you and I'm proud of you!" answered a friend of mine who is well respected in newspaper circles, is an ex-coach, and happens to be a nurturing person himself.
Another well-known and well-loved friend wrote this: "There are many... but first comes to mind the very last words he spoke to me. The day before he died, I was sitting on his hospital bed. He leaned over, hugged me, and said, "I'm proud of you, sugar.""
It seems there is a correlation between nurturing dads and success, doesn’t there?
Speaking of success and wise perspectives, one friend added this: "After dropping by yesterday and getting up to leave (his dad said)- "No need to hurry, why don't you stay a little longer?""
“Are you okay?” is the first question that my husband remembers clearly when as a teenager he called his dad to report that he had just wrecked the car.
Which brings me back to my husband’s comment about blame and credit.
Dads who are willing to take a hit - out of conviction about what is best for their kids - get kudos at the finish line.
Happy Father’s Day to all, especially my own dad.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Nice Girls and Sexual Harassment
What in the world is wrong with this character?!
I was entranced at a party recently as a twenty-something friend put off the advances of a too attentive young man.
I wanted her to bust his chops and put an end to our misery, but she was way too nice.
He was so focused that he didn’t notice that her friends, and at least one middle-aged mom-type, were paying close attention to his every move.
I have another twenty-something friend who quit her job rather than confront a guy at work who came on too strong.
So, here’s what I have to say to nice girls, “Quit being so nice!”
How? Here are some suggestions:
-Carry a knife in your purse. Nothing says “get out of my bubble” like cleaning your fingernails with a big, macho pocketknife. Just remember to leave it at home when you go to the airport.
-Ask a simple question, “Did you play football?” No matter how he answers the question, twirl around in “stiff arm” position and explain that he is taking a chance if he gets any closer than that.
-Sneak attacks? Don’t you just hate it when guys think they can approach you from the back and get in uncomfortably close? There’s a simple solution to that problem. Twist around quickly, put a knee in his groin and then say, “Oops! Did I hurt you?”
-Door strategy. If the guy stands in the doorframe of your car to prevent you from leaving, hit the alarm button on your key fob. Then say, “Back up please, I am leaving. NOW. That’s the signal.”
-Psychological warfare. Any guy that says, “You’re not nice,” is being manipulative. Your answer to that is “No, I am certainly NOT nice. Thank you for noticing.”
-Clarify the rules. Say exactly what you want him to know. For example, “Did I say you could enter my personal bubble?”
Most of the time you can clarify the rules with a simple statement as long as you smile. If you don’t laugh people will feel threatened, especially if you are cleaning your fingernails or picking your teeth with your bad-ass knife.
One last thought, if your mother would be offended about the way he’s acting, you should be, too. And it is best to let him know it. With a nice smile, of course.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Resolutions. Really?
I just hate resolutions. They sound so political. As if we are proposing some government agreement that is personally binding. Ick. As appealing as taxes.
“I set 8 goals last year and I’ve only got one left,” said a twenty-something friend about November of last year.
I was impressed; my resolutions never make it into February. Plus, eight is less than one accomplishment a month. Definitely do-able.
And it was cool stuff, too, like a bucket list.
“I’m sending you the abridged version,” laughed my friend when I asked him for his 2010 list. Before I could wonder what he left off, he added, “It’s going to include swimming in the Krafve’s pool once a week.”
In 2009, this young man managed to run a half marathon in under two hours, open a Roth IRA, save money for retirement, begin saving money for a down payment on a house, buy a serious piece of fun sports equipment, build his website, come close to running a six-minute mile, pull together one of his projects and submit it for a state-wide award.
He’s not even 25-years-old yet. Wow!
Notice how measurable and practical his ideas are. And there’s fun in the mix.
So, what’s he got on the agenda for 2010?
-Run a half-mile in under 1:50.
-Run a 6-minute mile.
-Learn to play harmonica
-Read the bible every day; no matter how short the passage. At least crack it open.
-Win a work-related award.
-Open a money market account and invest.
-Become conversational in Spanish.
-Do a 100-mile bike race.
-Choose a three-course meal and perfect cooking it.
Yeah, I like his list so much, I’m having trouble making my own set of goals for 2010.
Let’s just tell the truth; a fifty-something mom-type is not going to run a six-minute mile. However, but I am thinking of putting at least one of his ideas on my own list.
Yeah, if you change swimming, to laying out by the pool and working on my tan once a week, I’ll have the beginning of a list I can relate to.
Goals. I like the sound of that. And I still have eleven months to go.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Warning Ticket Prayer
“Ma’am, when was the last time you got a ticket?”
The rubber met the road in that moment because the truth is simple; I’ve gotten too many warning tickets to count lately. But how could I explain that to the nice motorcycle cop in the sunglasses and the helmet standing at my window?
Desperately searching for a technicality, I thought, “Do warning tickets even count?”
I hate technicalities. Whenever I find myself depending on technicalities instead of the truth, I know I’ve missed the point; the rock solid ground of integrity based on truth. Technicalities are simply the tricky mind’s way of avoiding the truth. Yuck.
“If I tell you the truth, you will think I’m trying to manipulate you,” I said.
“Try me.” His face was stern, but there was a smile in his voice.
“Every time, I see the lights flashing in the rear view mirror I thank God. I think that is why I get warnings.”
Not a normal response I know, but there’s more to the story.
You see, on a particularly frantic afternoon in the Fall about four year’s ago, as we sped to pick up the beloved family pet which I had forgotten to retrieve from the vet’s office, I was pulled over on one of the country roads near my house by a very polite and professional DPS officer.
I knew in an instant I would get a warning that day because sitting next to me was the same person who remembered the dog. He was dressed for dinner with his grandparents in what was his favorite outfit; a starched shirt, khakis, a big lone star belt buckle and a cowboy hat which was a special gift from a DPS friend. Law-enforcement guys have been my son’s heroes since he was eye-level with their holsters.
When my son pulled off his cowboy hat, even though he had been instructed to be perfectly quiet, and showed the officer the lone star in the lining of the hat which is unique to the DPS, I knew I would be ticket-free.
But that’s only the beginning of the story because within a few weeks, we saw that same officer’s picture on the front page of area papers when he was wounded in the line of duty.
Since then my flashing light prayer goes like this, “Thank You Lord that for the next twenty or so minutes this officer will be safe and treated respectfully. Thank You for his devotion to duty and for letting us live in a country with peace and laws, not technicalities. Thank you for the wife or mother who is praying for him today with me. Please continue to protect him.”
I’m not saying this prayer will keep you from getting real tickets.
I’m just saying that for at least fifteen minutes you could be somebody’s answer to prayer.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Reasons Women Love Hunting Season
As I write, it’s Saturday morning; I’m still in my PJ’s enjoying my second cup of coffee in the peaceful stillness that can’t possibly be my house. There’s a chill in the air…..
And that, my friends, is the #1 reason why women love hunting season.
A momentarily quiet house.
I am so okay with the men taking off to hunt without me. But that’s not the only thing that’s great about hunting:
#2 Meeting girlfriends at restaurants and shopping with no time restraints.
#3 Feeling totally un-guilty about buying a new outfit because the guys stocked up on all kinds of expensive new gear in the name of camo and amo right before they left.
#4 The men come in after each hunt with new stories to tell, like notches on a gun belt.
Sorting fact from fiction is all part of the fun. Like the top-secret rituals of a men’s fraternity,
only the initiated will ever know what really scared away the big buck.
#5 Women love what spending time with the men in their life does for our sons’ self-confidence.
#6 We love the way our sons swagger when they comes home after a hunt.
#7 And what about the awe mixed with regret that every little boy experiences the first time he shoots a squirrel with a BB gun? Then, strange as it sounds, each and every hunt after that reminds him again that “Life is Sacred.”
#8 It’s so reassuring when they come home and only the game was killed. Yeah, women tend to worry or pray the whole weekend.
#9 Not to mention the fact that sons go to bed early for two nights afterwards because they are so exhausted from the crazy hours and the fresh air.
#10 And yes, women like the way hunting puts us in control of the remote for a change, not to mention getting to watch chick flicks all weekend.
Seriously, there must be something sobering and thought-provoking about wandering about in God’s creation - the beautiful fields and forests of Texas - and beholding the way a mighty and good Maker rules His domain. The men always return refreshed and ready to recommit to leading and serving others.
Last, but not least, I think it is oh-so-cool when they cook what they kill which means I get a kitchen pass.
Oh, the glories of the hunt!
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Heroes I Know: Stuck in the Mud
“Oh, you can’t get stuck in the mud if you still have two tires on pavement,” I assured my son moments before I managed to sink my SUV into mushy red clay right up to my front axel.
Luckily for me, one of my heroes happened to be nearby. Actually, he and his wife were hosting a birthday party for twenty or so of their son’s friends. My stuck car probably looked like a piece of cake compared to chaperoning that exuberant, energetic event.
I keep a short list of heroes. I figure that’s why God gave us fingers; to keep count of things.
Phil is husband to one of my friends and dad to five. He is also uncle and next-door neighbor to his sister-in-law and her three kiddoes.
Yep, when her husband died in an accident, Phil and my friend invited her sister to move to East Texas and then prayed. Miraculously, the house next door suddenly became available.
So, Phil’s been on my short list- my five finger list- of heroes for a long time. Long before I got my car stuck in the mud.
He called a guy he knew and in moments I was rolling again. I’m betting the guy with the tow truck is on somebody’s short list of heroes, too. Just a guess, but he showed up with his son and sometimes you can tell which dads are heroes by the way they interact with their kids.
So, what does an average ole dad hero look like?
-Even on a day when he’s worn out and frazzled, he manages to stay fairly restrained when he has to correct his kids. This is sometimes a superhuman feat, by the way.
-He often has one or two of his own kids in tow, apprenticing them in an as-you-go kind of way about how gentlemen conduct themselves in the world.
-And, he has an encouraging word for the other young people he encounters along the way.
Just for future reference, it is scientifically proven that a car can be stuck in the mud even with two tires still on the pavement.
On the other hand, it seems that there is a trick to being the dad that keeps rolling along. The secret to being a hero in the circle of your life, I suspect, is to be the most heroic you can be in a single present moment. And then, just let the moments add up.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Luckily for me, one of my heroes happened to be nearby. Actually, he and his wife were hosting a birthday party for twenty or so of their son’s friends. My stuck car probably looked like a piece of cake compared to chaperoning that exuberant, energetic event.
I keep a short list of heroes. I figure that’s why God gave us fingers; to keep count of things.
Phil is husband to one of my friends and dad to five. He is also uncle and next-door neighbor to his sister-in-law and her three kiddoes.
Yep, when her husband died in an accident, Phil and my friend invited her sister to move to East Texas and then prayed. Miraculously, the house next door suddenly became available.
So, Phil’s been on my short list- my five finger list- of heroes for a long time. Long before I got my car stuck in the mud.
He called a guy he knew and in moments I was rolling again. I’m betting the guy with the tow truck is on somebody’s short list of heroes, too. Just a guess, but he showed up with his son and sometimes you can tell which dads are heroes by the way they interact with their kids.
So, what does an average ole dad hero look like?
-Even on a day when he’s worn out and frazzled, he manages to stay fairly restrained when he has to correct his kids. This is sometimes a superhuman feat, by the way.
-He often has one or two of his own kids in tow, apprenticing them in an as-you-go kind of way about how gentlemen conduct themselves in the world.
-And, he has an encouraging word for the other young people he encounters along the way.
Just for future reference, it is scientifically proven that a car can be stuck in the mud even with two tires still on the pavement.
On the other hand, it seems that there is a trick to being the dad that keeps rolling along. The secret to being a hero in the circle of your life, I suspect, is to be the most heroic you can be in a single present moment. And then, just let the moments add up.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Road Trip Romance
With family-filled summer days over, I vote for a romantic getaway.
Okay, everyone knows that guys and gals have totally different ideas about what’s romantic, right?
So when my friend spelled it out recently, I got out my pen and pad and took notes.
“Just buy Dorritos,” she began.
According to her theory, our significant others get tired of being told to eat healthy meals. When their sweetheart hops in the car with a cooler and a grocery bag packed with junk food, that means it is time to cut loose. Vacation. Road trip. Romance.
And all this time, I thought putting veggies on the table was a loving gesture meant to communicate that I hoped to keep him with me awhile.
This time of year is a great time for a road trip when beach towns take on a whole new laid-back attitude because it’s still hot enough to enjoy a shady umbrella and a good book, but the crowds have cleared out. In fact, hotel and condo rates drop as much as half mid-September. A mere 6 to 10 hours from now and you could be listening to the gentle pulse of the waves and treating yourself to a platter of fresh sea food.
To get your manfriend in the right frame of mind, here’s the food that communicates freedom and romance for the car ride according to my anonymous expert, a friend who suggests these “seven steps to a healthy relationship” (besides nacho-flavored Doritos):
-butterfingers,
-Ruffles potato chips,
-a cooler filled with Mountain Dew, and
-plenty of country western music which is the number one national favorite, apparently.
Step #6: Stop for Barbeque. “I don’t know what the deal is with THAT,” she says.
Step seven is funniest, though, as far as I’m concerned.
She has a firm opinion about a sure way to make the trip go faster.
“Buy copies of Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Bizarre, and GQ,” she says. Then as your sweetheart drives along, read exerts and ask innocently, “Would you like this?” or “Do you want to try this while we’re on vacation?”
Well, no wonder the trip goes fast, right?
You better keep an eye on the speed limit because your sweetheart’s foot will be getting heavier and heavier and his mind won’t be on the junk food.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Okay, everyone knows that guys and gals have totally different ideas about what’s romantic, right?
So when my friend spelled it out recently, I got out my pen and pad and took notes.
“Just buy Dorritos,” she began.
According to her theory, our significant others get tired of being told to eat healthy meals. When their sweetheart hops in the car with a cooler and a grocery bag packed with junk food, that means it is time to cut loose. Vacation. Road trip. Romance.
And all this time, I thought putting veggies on the table was a loving gesture meant to communicate that I hoped to keep him with me awhile.
This time of year is a great time for a road trip when beach towns take on a whole new laid-back attitude because it’s still hot enough to enjoy a shady umbrella and a good book, but the crowds have cleared out. In fact, hotel and condo rates drop as much as half mid-September. A mere 6 to 10 hours from now and you could be listening to the gentle pulse of the waves and treating yourself to a platter of fresh sea food.
To get your manfriend in the right frame of mind, here’s the food that communicates freedom and romance for the car ride according to my anonymous expert, a friend who suggests these “seven steps to a healthy relationship” (besides nacho-flavored Doritos):
-butterfingers,
-Ruffles potato chips,
-a cooler filled with Mountain Dew, and
-plenty of country western music which is the number one national favorite, apparently.
Step #6: Stop for Barbeque. “I don’t know what the deal is with THAT,” she says.
Step seven is funniest, though, as far as I’m concerned.
She has a firm opinion about a sure way to make the trip go faster.
“Buy copies of Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Bizarre, and GQ,” she says. Then as your sweetheart drives along, read exerts and ask innocently, “Would you like this?” or “Do you want to try this while we’re on vacation?”
Well, no wonder the trip goes fast, right?
You better keep an eye on the speed limit because your sweetheart’s foot will be getting heavier and heavier and his mind won’t be on the junk food.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Well-aged and Well-adjusted
Nothing made my Granddaddy happier than an excuse to fish.
He was a gentle man with a small-ish frame and a ready grin. Cataracts had taken their toll on his vision, but not on the sweet way he always interacted with us.
I can still see him standing on the end of a pier with cane pole in hand. There was something so inherently peaceful in his demeanor.
We never heard him say a cross word, although there were a few occasions when he firmly encouraged my grandmother that it was time for their visit to come to an end; she would have stayed indefinitely.
“I don’t believe in retirement,” said the gentleman at the Bullard Kiwanis meeting when I asked for help with this column. He was the picture of why I agree with him, busy mentoring young people, happily contributing to a better community.
What we believe about retirement and aging will shape our future. As I age, I can’t help but notice some of the mythology out there:
-“Retirement means you lose your identity.” What retirement really means is that now you can serve in the way you want to without concern for making the next buck.
- “I worked; now I can play.” I call this RTS, Retirement Teenager Syndrome. The happiest teenagers and old folks I know are the ones who are NOT focused on self-indulgence, but are busy sharing their lives with others.
-“Caretaking is an imposition.” You might be surprised to learn that your kids don’t mind the hours with you at the doctor’s office or the midnight trips to the emergency room. In fact, they might actually savor the quite and tenderness of those moments spent waiting with you.
-“Nobody is interested in the elderly.” The truth is that in many cultures, the elderly are still esteemed for their wisdom. In our own culture, I meet young people all the time who are craving the interest of someone wiser. The trick is to be wise enough to recognize the need and secure enough to offer whatever you can.
My kids and I met a retired gentleman recently at the picture framing counter who is a perfect example of offering whatever you can. He simply congratulated my daughter about her diploma. A few words later and we were pressing him with questions about his experience as a Korean veteran. He is now a friend and a valuable source of insight. All because he took a minute to encourage a young person.
“Drawing closer to the Lord and wanting others to do so too,” is crucial explained one friend, adding with a grin, “at our age, you know you’re gonna face Him sooner rather than later.”
So, what’s the best way to avoid getting caught in the trap of mythology about aging?
Spend time with young people.
If your grandkids live far away, why not adopt some more close to home? Next door. At church. By tutoring kids who need help with school work.
Why not do what my granddaddy did? Grab a cane pole and take a young person fishing.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
He was a gentle man with a small-ish frame and a ready grin. Cataracts had taken their toll on his vision, but not on the sweet way he always interacted with us.
I can still see him standing on the end of a pier with cane pole in hand. There was something so inherently peaceful in his demeanor.
We never heard him say a cross word, although there were a few occasions when he firmly encouraged my grandmother that it was time for their visit to come to an end; she would have stayed indefinitely.
“I don’t believe in retirement,” said the gentleman at the Bullard Kiwanis meeting when I asked for help with this column. He was the picture of why I agree with him, busy mentoring young people, happily contributing to a better community.
What we believe about retirement and aging will shape our future. As I age, I can’t help but notice some of the mythology out there:
-“Retirement means you lose your identity.” What retirement really means is that now you can serve in the way you want to without concern for making the next buck.
- “I worked; now I can play.” I call this RTS, Retirement Teenager Syndrome. The happiest teenagers and old folks I know are the ones who are NOT focused on self-indulgence, but are busy sharing their lives with others.
-“Caretaking is an imposition.” You might be surprised to learn that your kids don’t mind the hours with you at the doctor’s office or the midnight trips to the emergency room. In fact, they might actually savor the quite and tenderness of those moments spent waiting with you.
-“Nobody is interested in the elderly.” The truth is that in many cultures, the elderly are still esteemed for their wisdom. In our own culture, I meet young people all the time who are craving the interest of someone wiser. The trick is to be wise enough to recognize the need and secure enough to offer whatever you can.
My kids and I met a retired gentleman recently at the picture framing counter who is a perfect example of offering whatever you can. He simply congratulated my daughter about her diploma. A few words later and we were pressing him with questions about his experience as a Korean veteran. He is now a friend and a valuable source of insight. All because he took a minute to encourage a young person.
“Drawing closer to the Lord and wanting others to do so too,” is crucial explained one friend, adding with a grin, “at our age, you know you’re gonna face Him sooner rather than later.”
So, what’s the best way to avoid getting caught in the trap of mythology about aging?
Spend time with young people.
If your grandkids live far away, why not adopt some more close to home? Next door. At church. By tutoring kids who need help with school work.
Why not do what my granddaddy did? Grab a cane pole and take a young person fishing.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Father’s Day: A True Apology is an Act of Courage.
A true apology is an act of courage.
I was so fortunate to grow up in a home where apologies were modeled at intervals, when appropriate, by a dad who took his parenting responsibilities seriously.
I only appreciated this phenomenon, when, as an adult, I began to recognize how many of my friends had NEVER heard an apology from their dad. EVER.
Sure, my dad lost his patience with three rowdy kids from time to time. But, I never remember a time when he didn’t follow a cross word with a heartfelt apology.
For instance, in typically generous fashion, my parents decided that the thing to do was drive all three kids to Disney World. Yeah, they were habitually naive about how well-behaved their kiddoes would be in the car.
Having patiently ignored and endured two days of bickering, interrupted by complaining, my parents nerves were beginning to fray about the time we reached the freeway in California during rush hour. Finally, my dad turned around and chewed us out.
All was silent in the car.
Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by the flashing lights and siren behind us that can mean only one thing; my dad was fixing to get a ticket.
As kids, it seemed like an act of God.
Amazingly, after the officer pulled away, my dad did the truly miraculous, no, heroic thing and apologized to us kids for losing his temper.
On a side note, I don’t think any one of us kids apologized for our attitudes. Personally, I remember gloating inwardly, just demonstrating again that children want justice for everyone but themselves.
There are plenty of ways to apologize which are cowardly. We’ve all experienced the kind of apology that only dodges responsibility.
So, what makes a true apology?
-Take responsibility for what you did or said. Simply and clearly, “I am sorry that I….”
-Don’t point out the other person’s faults. Period.
- Saying the words “Will you forgive me?” gives the person the chance to decide.
-Accept their answer. That’s it. If they need more time, then that’s their responsibility. You are free.
The reason the three rowdy backseat siblings like to laugh now about the time our dad got pulled over, instead of say, complaining to a psychologist, is because Dad had the guts and integrity to apologize to us. Wow.
Just a quick acknowledgement that he lost his patience with us. That’s all it took to convey a world of good mental health to his kids.
This Father’s Day, if your kids have never heard you apologize, please change the ebb and flow of your relationship by acknowledging the things that weigh on your conscience.
Give your kiddoes a heart to laugh.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
I was so fortunate to grow up in a home where apologies were modeled at intervals, when appropriate, by a dad who took his parenting responsibilities seriously.
I only appreciated this phenomenon, when, as an adult, I began to recognize how many of my friends had NEVER heard an apology from their dad. EVER.
Sure, my dad lost his patience with three rowdy kids from time to time. But, I never remember a time when he didn’t follow a cross word with a heartfelt apology.
For instance, in typically generous fashion, my parents decided that the thing to do was drive all three kids to Disney World. Yeah, they were habitually naive about how well-behaved their kiddoes would be in the car.
Having patiently ignored and endured two days of bickering, interrupted by complaining, my parents nerves were beginning to fray about the time we reached the freeway in California during rush hour. Finally, my dad turned around and chewed us out.
All was silent in the car.
Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by the flashing lights and siren behind us that can mean only one thing; my dad was fixing to get a ticket.
As kids, it seemed like an act of God.
Amazingly, after the officer pulled away, my dad did the truly miraculous, no, heroic thing and apologized to us kids for losing his temper.
On a side note, I don’t think any one of us kids apologized for our attitudes. Personally, I remember gloating inwardly, just demonstrating again that children want justice for everyone but themselves.
There are plenty of ways to apologize which are cowardly. We’ve all experienced the kind of apology that only dodges responsibility.
So, what makes a true apology?
-Take responsibility for what you did or said. Simply and clearly, “I am sorry that I….”
-Don’t point out the other person’s faults. Period.
- Saying the words “Will you forgive me?” gives the person the chance to decide.
-Accept their answer. That’s it. If they need more time, then that’s their responsibility. You are free.
The reason the three rowdy backseat siblings like to laugh now about the time our dad got pulled over, instead of say, complaining to a psychologist, is because Dad had the guts and integrity to apologize to us. Wow.
Just a quick acknowledgement that he lost his patience with us. That’s all it took to convey a world of good mental health to his kids.
This Father’s Day, if your kids have never heard you apologize, please change the ebb and flow of your relationship by acknowledging the things that weigh on your conscience.
Give your kiddoes a heart to laugh.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Entertaining Kids is Highly Overrated: Nine Tips to Delete “Bored” From Your Summer
“Mom, I’m bored.”
Yes, summer is when all children everywhere try to shift the burden of entertaining themselves to mom.
Entertaining children is highly overrated, in my experienced opinion.
Never one to take on additional responsibilities regarding my children because they were already so much work, I always balked.
“Okay, get out a pen and a piece of paper,” I responded each year sometime during the first week of June.
Kids are way too smart to fall for any tricky business that involves pen and paper after school is out, so already I had them on the run.
With groaning and complaining, they proceeded to list their goals for the summer. Then, we posted them on the fridge, in case boredom struck again. I saved the lists; they are pretty cute.
If you are lucky enough to still have bored young ones in your home, here’s a list to arm you for the summer ritual:
-Walk the dog. Wash the dog. Teach the dog tricks.
-Create a sweet treat. Clean up the mess. Deliver it to a neighbor.
-Interview an elderly person about history.
-Plan an easy craft. Invite a younger child over to play.
-Plan a meal for the family. Make the grocery list. Guess at the cost of items on the list. Take it to the grocery store and shop with a separate cart for the items. Give the cashier the money and compare it to the estimate. Prepare the meal for the family.
-Make a special table decoration and set the table. Eat by candlelight.
-Make paper dolls using cookie cutters for patterns.
-Write a screenplay and act it out with siblings, neighbors, or cousins. Video tape it.
-Choose an amazing book and take turns reading it out loud together. Then, rent the movie version.
-Play an old-fashioned board game, like Candy Land or Sequence. Make caramel corn in the microwave. (For the recipe, go to my blogsite.)
I know times have changed with so many moms working. Children spend summer almost as busy as they are the rest of the year.
But don’t forget to schedule in a little down time. Being bored is good for kids. It gives them a chance to think about and make their own plans for a few hours.
Boredom can be a good thing, especially if it produces a disciplined mind.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Yes, summer is when all children everywhere try to shift the burden of entertaining themselves to mom.
Entertaining children is highly overrated, in my experienced opinion.
Never one to take on additional responsibilities regarding my children because they were already so much work, I always balked.
“Okay, get out a pen and a piece of paper,” I responded each year sometime during the first week of June.
Kids are way too smart to fall for any tricky business that involves pen and paper after school is out, so already I had them on the run.
With groaning and complaining, they proceeded to list their goals for the summer. Then, we posted them on the fridge, in case boredom struck again. I saved the lists; they are pretty cute.
If you are lucky enough to still have bored young ones in your home, here’s a list to arm you for the summer ritual:
-Walk the dog. Wash the dog. Teach the dog tricks.
-Create a sweet treat. Clean up the mess. Deliver it to a neighbor.
-Interview an elderly person about history.
-Plan an easy craft. Invite a younger child over to play.
-Plan a meal for the family. Make the grocery list. Guess at the cost of items on the list. Take it to the grocery store and shop with a separate cart for the items. Give the cashier the money and compare it to the estimate. Prepare the meal for the family.
-Make a special table decoration and set the table. Eat by candlelight.
-Make paper dolls using cookie cutters for patterns.
-Write a screenplay and act it out with siblings, neighbors, or cousins. Video tape it.
-Choose an amazing book and take turns reading it out loud together. Then, rent the movie version.
-Play an old-fashioned board game, like Candy Land or Sequence. Make caramel corn in the microwave. (For the recipe, go to my blogsite.)
I know times have changed with so many moms working. Children spend summer almost as busy as they are the rest of the year.
But don’t forget to schedule in a little down time. Being bored is good for kids. It gives them a chance to think about and make their own plans for a few hours.
Boredom can be a good thing, especially if it produces a disciplined mind.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Boys’ Imaginations
“Special Operations – Marine Corps” it said in a simple, clear font.
On the plain vanilla business card was the picture of a tough-looking dude in sunglasses. No smile.
I would be worried about the state of our national security, except for one thing; I recognize my son’s friend in the picture.
My 12-year-old son’s own business cards say “Weapons Specialist.”
Technology has done wonders for boys’ imaginations, hasn’t it?
Of course, I had a spy kit with a plastic lipstick tube that was really a walky-talky. Unfortunately, that was in the day when parents still thought batteries were way too expensive to buy any time but Christmas. So, all my conversations about the target I was stalking were pretend conversations, the jist of which had to be reported to my fellow spy playmates when we rendezvoused at headquarters for peanut butter and jelly, uh, I mean, caviar and champagne.
One Sunday afternoon recently my son downloaded their pictures from my digital camera and found the program on my laptop to manufacture business cards. Later, when he delivered his friend’s business cards, the boys took a two hour break from defending our national interests to watch a movie full of special effects which were filmed in front of a green screen.
Apparently, the sharp and deadly swords in the film were really just sticks which are less dangerous for the actors and more realistic after you fix them up with modern technology. All this according to my son who is occasionally an expert on unexpected subjects.
I hid my video camera. I’m in favor of education and technology, but a mom can only take so much tinkering with her stuff in one day.
I didn’t bother to try to hide any sticks. It’s been my experience that boys will make weapons out of anything that happens to be handy at the moment.
“Hey mom, can I borrow your spray paint?” he asked mid-afternoon.
You can imagine what that question did for my peace of mind.
In spite of modern technology, some things haven’t changed. For instance, my son and his friends still fight for truth and justice and the American way. Just like we did a million years ago in the days of black and white television and battery-operated lipstick spy gear.
They run around the neighborhood seeking out the bad guys who are now terrorists, a word we never thought of.
Our sons still take up sticks and defend the neighborhood, our flag, and our values.
And moms still have heart palpitations, not about digital cameras, laptops, and spray paint; but about the destiny of young men trained in courage and heroism.
All of which bodes well for future freedom, I suppose. Although I’m wondering if I should warn the Marines about what is coming up the ranks.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
On the plain vanilla business card was the picture of a tough-looking dude in sunglasses. No smile.
I would be worried about the state of our national security, except for one thing; I recognize my son’s friend in the picture.
My 12-year-old son’s own business cards say “Weapons Specialist.”
Technology has done wonders for boys’ imaginations, hasn’t it?
Of course, I had a spy kit with a plastic lipstick tube that was really a walky-talky. Unfortunately, that was in the day when parents still thought batteries were way too expensive to buy any time but Christmas. So, all my conversations about the target I was stalking were pretend conversations, the jist of which had to be reported to my fellow spy playmates when we rendezvoused at headquarters for peanut butter and jelly, uh, I mean, caviar and champagne.
One Sunday afternoon recently my son downloaded their pictures from my digital camera and found the program on my laptop to manufacture business cards. Later, when he delivered his friend’s business cards, the boys took a two hour break from defending our national interests to watch a movie full of special effects which were filmed in front of a green screen.
Apparently, the sharp and deadly swords in the film were really just sticks which are less dangerous for the actors and more realistic after you fix them up with modern technology. All this according to my son who is occasionally an expert on unexpected subjects.
I hid my video camera. I’m in favor of education and technology, but a mom can only take so much tinkering with her stuff in one day.
I didn’t bother to try to hide any sticks. It’s been my experience that boys will make weapons out of anything that happens to be handy at the moment.
“Hey mom, can I borrow your spray paint?” he asked mid-afternoon.
You can imagine what that question did for my peace of mind.
In spite of modern technology, some things haven’t changed. For instance, my son and his friends still fight for truth and justice and the American way. Just like we did a million years ago in the days of black and white television and battery-operated lipstick spy gear.
They run around the neighborhood seeking out the bad guys who are now terrorists, a word we never thought of.
Our sons still take up sticks and defend the neighborhood, our flag, and our values.
And moms still have heart palpitations, not about digital cameras, laptops, and spray paint; but about the destiny of young men trained in courage and heroism.
All of which bodes well for future freedom, I suppose. Although I’m wondering if I should warn the Marines about what is coming up the ranks.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Steer- herding, Rootin’ Tootin’ Cowboy Oil Man
The following is a true story. For the most part.
“Guess what happened this morning at the site,” said my husband over the phone as I drove to a neighboring community to meet with a newspaper publisher.
The last time he asked a question like that, he and his dad were attempting to get control of a blow-out. Wouldn’t you assume that a gusher blowing oil all over Timbuktu would be a good thing? Just goes to show you what a green horn I am when it comes to the oil business.
Blow-outs mean trouble for would-be oil tycoons because they are a mess. It turns out you can’t sell oil that is spilling out all over the ground, plus, there’s the expensive, but necessary clean-up. Bummer.
That was years ago, but I learned to appreciate an answer like “not much” when I ask my husband about his work day.
Each and every pump jack in Texas has a fence around it now days, as you may have noticed. No more invitations to teenage boys to do the obviously life-threatening thing, I guess.
Turns out that somebody out there knows even less about dangerous, expensive oil equipment than I do, though.
“We got to the location and there was a steer INSIDE the fence!” my husband announced over the phone, “I guess the cattle owner wanted to separate the steer from the rest of the herd.” Implying that the steer was a ferocious beast.
“Okay, I know you didn’t let your pumper go anywhere near that steer. Please tell me you did not do what I think you did,” I responded.
Please understand that I have children with this man.
“The pumper held the gate while I ran past the steer and turned off the pump!”
And he thought it was fun. I could tell by the tone of his voice. Then they waited for the cattle owner to come and round up the beast.
Well, the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree because you should have heard our son when my husband told the story at dinner that night.
I had to get out my shovel because we were getting boot deep in bull…uh…manure around the table.
It turns out the steer had udders. Horns, too, of course, but mighty short ones I began to suspect.
Okay, I don’t know much about the oil business or cattle, but even I know that steers do not make milk. Which could explain why the animal was separated from her offspring.
“Dad, when you tell this story, you should say that you were wearing a red shirt and the steer chased you around and around the pump jack!” said my son.
Not that his dad needs any help with tall tales.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
“Guess what happened this morning at the site,” said my husband over the phone as I drove to a neighboring community to meet with a newspaper publisher.
The last time he asked a question like that, he and his dad were attempting to get control of a blow-out. Wouldn’t you assume that a gusher blowing oil all over Timbuktu would be a good thing? Just goes to show you what a green horn I am when it comes to the oil business.
Blow-outs mean trouble for would-be oil tycoons because they are a mess. It turns out you can’t sell oil that is spilling out all over the ground, plus, there’s the expensive, but necessary clean-up. Bummer.
That was years ago, but I learned to appreciate an answer like “not much” when I ask my husband about his work day.
Each and every pump jack in Texas has a fence around it now days, as you may have noticed. No more invitations to teenage boys to do the obviously life-threatening thing, I guess.
Turns out that somebody out there knows even less about dangerous, expensive oil equipment than I do, though.
“We got to the location and there was a steer INSIDE the fence!” my husband announced over the phone, “I guess the cattle owner wanted to separate the steer from the rest of the herd.” Implying that the steer was a ferocious beast.
“Okay, I know you didn’t let your pumper go anywhere near that steer. Please tell me you did not do what I think you did,” I responded.
Please understand that I have children with this man.
“The pumper held the gate while I ran past the steer and turned off the pump!”
And he thought it was fun. I could tell by the tone of his voice. Then they waited for the cattle owner to come and round up the beast.
Well, the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree because you should have heard our son when my husband told the story at dinner that night.
I had to get out my shovel because we were getting boot deep in bull…uh…manure around the table.
It turns out the steer had udders. Horns, too, of course, but mighty short ones I began to suspect.
Okay, I don’t know much about the oil business or cattle, but even I know that steers do not make milk. Which could explain why the animal was separated from her offspring.
“Dad, when you tell this story, you should say that you were wearing a red shirt and the steer chased you around and around the pump jack!” said my son.
Not that his dad needs any help with tall tales.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
How to Give Your Sweetheart a Gun Without Getting Shot
I have a friend who got a gun as a gift from her husband.
Yeah, it’s been several weeks since Christmas and they’re still married. Can you believe it?!
I suspect the sudden urge to purchase unregistered firearms and give them as gifts has something to do with the fact that the Democrats are back in power.
I am not kidding when I say that many East Texans are picking up unregistered guns at gun shows just in case gun control becomes a popular legislative topic again. (For more on Second Amendment rights see my column titled “Amendment #2: Guns,” posted on my blog.)
I asked my friend if she was disappointed that her gift didn’t come with more sparkle, the kind found in gifts of a more geological nature, like, say, diamonds.
She shared, with a twinkle in her eye, that she thought her husband was inviting her into his world. She was honored that he views her as his favorite companion.
Wow. I’m not sure who impressed me more; the wife who had such an understanding heart or the husband who took a chance and managed to communicate so well.
I found her attitude about the whole thing inspiring.
So, in case any guys out there are considering a gun for their sweetheart for Valentine’s Day, here are some suggestions on how to give a gift of weapons, without having it backfire.
-Do what my friend’s husband did and make sure she understands that being your hunting buddy means quality time together.
-Give her a card with those sentiments first, so she understands your intentions before she is holding an unwrapped, unregistered weapon in her hands.
-Hide the ammo, until you are positive she understands.
-If she points the new gun at you, run.
Better yet, give her jewelry first, before she opens the gun.
Call me materialistic, but I find it somewhat unromantic to be reminded about household chores or to suggest that I might want to hunt for my food. So, we have a new gift rule at our house, just in case my husband confuses rifles, vacuums, tools, or household items as gifts.
The rule is simple, if it goes on earlobes or feet, it is an appropriate gift, especially if it comes in gold, silver, or shiny.
I’m only writing about guns as gifts because I think my friend deserves the “Wife of the Year Award.” I think her husband knows it, too.
I’m pretty sure all his friends, including my husband, are jealous cus he has such a cool wife.
So, buy your sweetheart a gun for Valentine’s if you must, but while you’re at the gun store, be a sweetheart and throw in ear protection.
To go over those nice shiny earrings that came in the velvet box. Just in case.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Yeah, it’s been several weeks since Christmas and they’re still married. Can you believe it?!
I suspect the sudden urge to purchase unregistered firearms and give them as gifts has something to do with the fact that the Democrats are back in power.
I am not kidding when I say that many East Texans are picking up unregistered guns at gun shows just in case gun control becomes a popular legislative topic again. (For more on Second Amendment rights see my column titled “Amendment #2: Guns,” posted on my blog.)
I asked my friend if she was disappointed that her gift didn’t come with more sparkle, the kind found in gifts of a more geological nature, like, say, diamonds.
She shared, with a twinkle in her eye, that she thought her husband was inviting her into his world. She was honored that he views her as his favorite companion.
Wow. I’m not sure who impressed me more; the wife who had such an understanding heart or the husband who took a chance and managed to communicate so well.
I found her attitude about the whole thing inspiring.
So, in case any guys out there are considering a gun for their sweetheart for Valentine’s Day, here are some suggestions on how to give a gift of weapons, without having it backfire.
-Do what my friend’s husband did and make sure she understands that being your hunting buddy means quality time together.
-Give her a card with those sentiments first, so she understands your intentions before she is holding an unwrapped, unregistered weapon in her hands.
-Hide the ammo, until you are positive she understands.
-If she points the new gun at you, run.
Better yet, give her jewelry first, before she opens the gun.
Call me materialistic, but I find it somewhat unromantic to be reminded about household chores or to suggest that I might want to hunt for my food. So, we have a new gift rule at our house, just in case my husband confuses rifles, vacuums, tools, or household items as gifts.
The rule is simple, if it goes on earlobes or feet, it is an appropriate gift, especially if it comes in gold, silver, or shiny.
I’m only writing about guns as gifts because I think my friend deserves the “Wife of the Year Award.” I think her husband knows it, too.
I’m pretty sure all his friends, including my husband, are jealous cus he has such a cool wife.
So, buy your sweetheart a gun for Valentine’s if you must, but while you’re at the gun store, be a sweetheart and throw in ear protection.
To go over those nice shiny earrings that came in the velvet box. Just in case.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Words We Don't Use
There is a three letter word we don’t use at our house and it starts with an f.
If you don’t know which word I mean, then you obviously have a good relationship with your bathroom scales.
At our house, we say soft. Or, my personal favorite, suave, which is the word for soft in espanol.
Suave. Don’t ya just love it?
Of course, no man wants to be referred to as soft, so we have masculine euphemisms, too.
My favorite is the way we refer to the tire around the middle of a middle-aged man as his security. You know, in the event of a famine, security could be useful. I am just practical that way.
I finally reached a truce with my scales. I ignore them and they consequently ignore me.
That was right before the scales broke, not that I cared.
My bathroom mirror, on the other hand, is a thing of delightful enchantment.
Don’t ask me how I became the happy owner of a mirror that invariably makes me look skinny, young, wrinkleless, and sag-free.
It was a gift from my mom-in-law for our first home.
How did she purchase the perfect gift? Perhaps from a wandering gipsy caravan? From a retired circus performer?
I don’t know, but I am pretty sure it is one of a kind and I am not sharing it.
I will certainly triple wrap the priceless mirror, if I ever have to move again, even to the nursing home. I am finally at an age to fully appreciate the worth of such a remarkable object.
It is possible that it is not the mirror at all. I could just be an anti-rexic. I always see myself as eighteen and quite skinny. This is clearly a psychic disorder, but I refuse to take medication for it.
Unfortunately, my closet is not so accommodating.
Somewhere between my bathroom mirror and my blue jeans, I gain ten pounds.
Good grief. I cannot explain this phenomenon; I only know that it is true. I can tell by the way I have to strain to get the jeans zipped and buttoned.
There are other f-words, of course. If you have an elementary school child, you already know that the kids at school use an f-word every time someone passes gas.
There’s the s-word too, which is for kids that are the opposite of smart.
And, if the s-word does not suffice, there is always the d-word.
I would tell you what the d-word is, but I’m no dummy.
Oops.
We don’t use those words at our house.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
If you don’t know which word I mean, then you obviously have a good relationship with your bathroom scales.
At our house, we say soft. Or, my personal favorite, suave, which is the word for soft in espanol.
Suave. Don’t ya just love it?
Of course, no man wants to be referred to as soft, so we have masculine euphemisms, too.
My favorite is the way we refer to the tire around the middle of a middle-aged man as his security. You know, in the event of a famine, security could be useful. I am just practical that way.
I finally reached a truce with my scales. I ignore them and they consequently ignore me.
That was right before the scales broke, not that I cared.
My bathroom mirror, on the other hand, is a thing of delightful enchantment.
Don’t ask me how I became the happy owner of a mirror that invariably makes me look skinny, young, wrinkleless, and sag-free.
It was a gift from my mom-in-law for our first home.
How did she purchase the perfect gift? Perhaps from a wandering gipsy caravan? From a retired circus performer?
I don’t know, but I am pretty sure it is one of a kind and I am not sharing it.
I will certainly triple wrap the priceless mirror, if I ever have to move again, even to the nursing home. I am finally at an age to fully appreciate the worth of such a remarkable object.
It is possible that it is not the mirror at all. I could just be an anti-rexic. I always see myself as eighteen and quite skinny. This is clearly a psychic disorder, but I refuse to take medication for it.
Unfortunately, my closet is not so accommodating.
Somewhere between my bathroom mirror and my blue jeans, I gain ten pounds.
Good grief. I cannot explain this phenomenon; I only know that it is true. I can tell by the way I have to strain to get the jeans zipped and buttoned.
There are other f-words, of course. If you have an elementary school child, you already know that the kids at school use an f-word every time someone passes gas.
There’s the s-word too, which is for kids that are the opposite of smart.
And, if the s-word does not suffice, there is always the d-word.
I would tell you what the d-word is, but I’m no dummy.
Oops.
We don’t use those words at our house.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Overcoming Scuba Aversion
“Oh that was just a sand shark. They don’t even have teeth,” she said with a soothing smile.
I wanted to believe her. The big, blue sea beckoned.
Most folks have an instinctive aversion to scuba. Too much equipment.
Scuba is closely related to swimming and swimming is, after all, one of those water sports where the motto, “Less is better,” means a practical bathing suit is better than a fancy or skimpy one. Less distraction from the pure delight of being in the sun and water, right?
It follows that cumbersome scuba equipment, while necessary, would be a distraction.
Of course, when it comes to scuba diving, there is that worrisome problem of needing oxygen to live. For me, it always seemed logical to enjoy water sports on top of the water where human lungs function best.
Not to mention sharks. They seem more real under water, don’t they? Like they have the home team advantage. Even sand sharks.
Scuba was not even in my vocabulary until I went snorkeling.
Who knew there was so much social life under the surface? Snorkeling gave me a ring-side seat to the underworld circus of fish and sea creatures too numerous to name.
From the moment I got a glimpse of the sun fish flitting under the surface, I knew I would need a tank to get close enough to satisfy my curiosity.
If you are trying to get a scuba-phobe to immerse with you, here are some things that may help encourage a new scubie to bite the bullet. Oops, mentioning biting in the same column as sharks seems counterproductive.
-First, the tanks are a lot lighter under water. When you use up all the air, the tank actually tends to make you float to the surface. I find this somewhat reassuring.
-It is great for families; scuba is a great way to keep your kids involved with you and stuck together for hours at a time, in a pursuit so fascinating and complicated that they forget to whine or complain. That is, until they finally come up for air and remember suddenly that they are totally starving.
-The underwater world is an incredible expression of God’s creativity. The variety and beauty of the fish alone, not to mention the other creatures or the vegetation, are enough to make you take a second look at the infinite variety of the people He made.
-Learning something new keeps old folks young. And it is great exercise.
-Scuba masters have been through rigorous training themselves. They seem to enjoy checking all the equipment as many times as you like, which in my case is annoyingly often. Like Texans know the best fishing holes, Dive Masters often know the underwater terrain in their neighborhood and can make sure you see lots of action.
-If you reserve an excursion off the coast, you’ll get to ride in a big boat under a big blue sky on the wide-open turquoise water to the dive site.
When we got back from my first blue water dive recently, I trolled for sand shark on the internet. Guess what? Sand sharks do have teeth. They can even be dangerous!
It’s just a good thing I couldn’t take my lap top on the boat.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at cathykrafve@gmail or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
I wanted to believe her. The big, blue sea beckoned.
Most folks have an instinctive aversion to scuba. Too much equipment.
Scuba is closely related to swimming and swimming is, after all, one of those water sports where the motto, “Less is better,” means a practical bathing suit is better than a fancy or skimpy one. Less distraction from the pure delight of being in the sun and water, right?
It follows that cumbersome scuba equipment, while necessary, would be a distraction.
Of course, when it comes to scuba diving, there is that worrisome problem of needing oxygen to live. For me, it always seemed logical to enjoy water sports on top of the water where human lungs function best.
Not to mention sharks. They seem more real under water, don’t they? Like they have the home team advantage. Even sand sharks.
Scuba was not even in my vocabulary until I went snorkeling.
Who knew there was so much social life under the surface? Snorkeling gave me a ring-side seat to the underworld circus of fish and sea creatures too numerous to name.
From the moment I got a glimpse of the sun fish flitting under the surface, I knew I would need a tank to get close enough to satisfy my curiosity.
If you are trying to get a scuba-phobe to immerse with you, here are some things that may help encourage a new scubie to bite the bullet. Oops, mentioning biting in the same column as sharks seems counterproductive.
-First, the tanks are a lot lighter under water. When you use up all the air, the tank actually tends to make you float to the surface. I find this somewhat reassuring.
-It is great for families; scuba is a great way to keep your kids involved with you and stuck together for hours at a time, in a pursuit so fascinating and complicated that they forget to whine or complain. That is, until they finally come up for air and remember suddenly that they are totally starving.
-The underwater world is an incredible expression of God’s creativity. The variety and beauty of the fish alone, not to mention the other creatures or the vegetation, are enough to make you take a second look at the infinite variety of the people He made.
-Learning something new keeps old folks young. And it is great exercise.
-Scuba masters have been through rigorous training themselves. They seem to enjoy checking all the equipment as many times as you like, which in my case is annoyingly often. Like Texans know the best fishing holes, Dive Masters often know the underwater terrain in their neighborhood and can make sure you see lots of action.
-If you reserve an excursion off the coast, you’ll get to ride in a big boat under a big blue sky on the wide-open turquoise water to the dive site.
When we got back from my first blue water dive recently, I trolled for sand shark on the internet. Guess what? Sand sharks do have teeth. They can even be dangerous!
It’s just a good thing I couldn’t take my lap top on the boat.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at cathykrafve@gmail or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.
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