|From "With a Little Help From My Friends...Women and Friendship"
The day President Kennedy was shot:
I was in PE class and our regular classroom teacher, Mrs. Erickson, came into the gym and told us to go back to the classroom immediately -- to not change or shower -- just return to our classroom. One look at Mrs. Erickson and we knew something horrible had happened. She looked like she was in pain, her teeth were clinched and she was obviously fighting back tears. We quickly and quietly filed back to our room. Mrs. Erickson followed us in, shutting the door behind her and told us to pray, then left. Unfortunately, she had not yet told us what to pray about, so my friends and I all exchanged puzzled looks as one by one we bowed our heads and began to pray.
I assumed we were being bombed by Russia and would soon die....in our hideous white gym suits.
This is just a test:
How many of you remember bomb or fallout drills? Where we were either herded into dark, damp basements piled high with packages of freeze-dried food and bottled water, or made to huddle under our desks. I was always amazed that the adults in charge could have us do that with straight faces. The same desk that tipped over if I put my dictionary and geography book on the same side was going to save me from annihilation by a bomb?
No wonder we grew up questioning authority.
From "You Might be a Writer..."
In case you're wondering if you might really be a writer, I offer these guidelines:
You might be a writer if you not only eavesdrop on other people's conversations but also take notes.
If you take a dictionary along on a camping trip, just in case a question about language comes up, you might be a writer.
You might be a writer if you have ever told someone you work better under pressure, when in your heart you know the truth is you ONLY work under
And you are probably a writer if, in the middle of staring at a speck on the wall, determining how many actual chews it takes to use up all the taste in a stick of gum, or wondering what your cat would like with her fur moussed, a friend calls, asks if you're working, and without hesitation, you say "yes."
From "Jest for Health"
On friends and aging:
My friends are my biggest ally in life. They make going from wondering if Iım tragically hip to worrying about a hip tragedy tolerable.
My friends and I are Baby Boomers. Baby Boomers -- thatıs kind of outdated, isn't it? I mean, weıre hardly babies anymore. I think we should face reality and start calling ourselves what we really are -- Geezer Boomers!
Iıve been on a very restricted diet for the last year and am constantly struggling to find humor in the situation because I know if I can laugh about it, I can survive it.
How many of you have ever been on a diet?
Then you know that the first thing you lose is your sense of humor.
The second thing is your patience. I didn't realize this until, after a few weeks into the diet, my friend Linda asked if I had been on it long enough to notice how intolerable other people were.
--Back to Speaking
|Copyright 2003 Lou Ann Thomas|