The Original Musings

Doing my little part to help stop SOPA

With apologies to Art Linkletter

It was about 1964 or ’65. I was therefore 4 to 5 years old, depending on exactly when it was. We were living in Germany.  I was in bed, supposed to be asleep, but I was resisting.  I kept calling my Mom into the room with requests and stupid questions.  Mom didn’t often get really angry at me, but she would get exasperated from time to time. This was one of those times.

When she kissed me good night and walked toward the door — again — I said “Mom?” and earned an abrupt “what?!” I don’t even remember what I asked her, but she replied with “Jesus H. Christ, will you please just go to sleep?!” “What’s the H,” I asked. Not a delaying tactic this time, but something I genuinely wanted to know. She always said “Jesus H. Christ” and I wanted to know what the H was all about. After a pause, she replied “it’s his middle initial.” I said “oh. What’s his middle name?” She said “I don’t know! Go the hell to sleep!” At that point, I decided Jesus’ middle name was Howard. I don’t know why I picked Howard, but that’s what it became in my mind and to this day when I hear someone say Jesus H. Christ, I think “Howard.”

Now, I told you that anecdote so I could tell you this one …

I got exasperated at one of the dogs tonight, Sally, the one year old puppy we adopted last week. She’s just being a pill, getting into everything and giving you that big goofy puppy smile when you try to chastise her. Finally, after taking something away from her for like the third time and moving it to still higher ground to try to prevent her getting it back (fat chance with this dog, she can both climb and jump) I exclaimed “Jesus, Mary and Joseph the carpenter from Brooklyn! Will you please STOP it?”

This earned me a giggle from the sofa, where my darling daughter Missy sat reading a book. She said, “so why do you say that anyhow?” Come to think of it, why do I say that? I replied “… I don’t know … I read it somewhere once, and it just stuck in my mind and now I say it.”

So, I Googled it, and found that it appeared in the book “Thinner” by Richard Bachman (better known as Stephen King). Ginelli says it to Billy when they’re discussing the curse the Gypsy put on Billy.  ”Jesus Mary and Joseph the carpenter from Brooklyn Heights,” to be specific.

But here’s the thing … “Thinner” was published in 1985. And I know I’ve been saying it longer than that. By 1985 I had two children and was living in Cleveland, Ohio. I know I said it in Columbus, where we lived before that, because my friend Dru thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard and appropriated it from me. I can’t find any earlier references to it though, so I honestly have no idea where it originated.

Now I’m curious!

I totally and completely spaced on this yesterday …

But even though I forgot to say it then, I hope you all had a wonderfully happy Christmas (or Hannukah!) and that your upcoming new year will be the best one ever — until the next!

Thanks for being patient as the blogging dropped off around here, the business of regaining my health has been an exciting, busy journey for me and both blogs (this one and fatnomo) have suffered as a result. Your words of encouragement and support have been every bit as much of a blessing to me as the surgery that saved my life. Hopefully 2012 will be a better blogging year again — after all, if the world’s going to end, I’ll want to be leaving my blogging legacy for some future generation to find and read, right?

December 6, 2006 

This very day five years ago, my Mom, (Yvonne) Annette Helms, went home to God.

We’ve had five years of birthdays, holidays, and family events without her now.  She was such a vital part of our family’s lives and there are still days when I find myself wondering exactly how we’re functioning without her.

I can’t count the number of times something has happened and I think “oh, wait till I tell Mom!” — more often nowadays, my thought is usually “I wish I could tell Mom,” so I guess that’s progress.

I miss her now as much as I did then, it’s just without that sharp edge.

In two days – on December 8 — she would have been turning 74.   She left us far too soon, but she left us richer and better for having known her.  Pretty much everything good about any of us has its roots in her influence, the legacy she gave us. When all is said and done, I guess that’s something worth leaving behind.

I love you Mom.

Another 9/11 anniversary.

I originally wrote this post in 2006 for the 2996 Project. Typically I post it at 9:02 a.m. on September 11. Because this is the tenth anniversary, I am posting it 24 hours early.

In past years, this entry has attracted many wonderful comments and visitors. It has also attracted some comments which detract from the tribute meant with this entry. Some of us only remember Ruth and her family from time to time, but there are those who live with her memory daily. They have suffered more than enough grief by the loss of their loved ones ten years ago today. I will not permit their pain to be exacerbated here. Therefore, for the third successive year, I am operating on an absolute zero tolerance policy for this post. Any offensive comments will be removed by me as quickly as I see them. Posting of such comments may result in your loss of posting privileges on this domain — perhaps immediately — without any further warning. If you are a new poster to this site, your comment will very likely be held for moderation until it is approved. I apologize in advance for this heavy-handed treatment to those of you who would never think of doing such a thing, and hope you understand that this is not in any way directed at you.

Missy has reposted her column from 2006 as well, on her blog with her honoree, David William Nelson.

~~~~~

A tribute in the 2,996 Project

On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, Ruth McCourt, her four year old daughter Juliana and her best friend Paige Farley-Hackel drove to Boston’s Logan International Airport. They were on their way to southern California. They were going to see friends, they were going to spend a few days at Deepak Chopra’s Center for Well-Being where Paige would receive certification in the Debbie Ford Shadow Process and they were going to take “Miss J” to Disneyland.

Because they wanted to use frequent flier miles, they wound up on different airlines. Paige was on American Airlines flight 11, Ruth and Juliana were on United flight 175. They would meet up at the airport in Los Angeles, California, and begin their mini-vacation.

That same morning Ruth’s brother Ron Clifford, who lives in New Jersey, had a meeting scheduled at the Marriott Marquis in Midtown, but it was moved to the Marriott World Trade Center at the last moment. He and Ruth were especially close, she’d even instructed him on which tie to wear for the meeting. It was a beautiful day, his daughter Monica’s 11th birthday, and this meeting was extremely important to his career future.

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