Category: Living my Life

Do you know how it feels to be a middle kid? Not enjoying the privileges of the oldest. Nor the spoiling of the youngest. Well, I just figured out that every one in my age group could logically have middle kid syndrome.

Here we are, squeezed between The Greatest Generation and the Baby Boomers. On one side, our brave parents who fought wars and the Great Depression, and on the other our younger siblings and our children, welcomed into the world with joy after WW2 ended and the economy was healthy.

And what is this middle generation called? The Silent Generation. Coined by Time Magazine in 1951 (but seldom used) this phrase describes people born from 1929 to 1946. A small demographic because families had fewer children during these hard times, struggling as they were to support the ones they had.

Why silent? Several reasons. During these decades, the adage “Children should be seen and not heard” was popular. Our formative years were war years, when “loose lips sink ships.” We reached adulthood during the Korean Conflict, followed by the Cold War with the spying and the intimidation of the House Committee on Un-American Activities run by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Their witch-hunt methods made people afraid to speak freely about their political opinions and beliefs.

But we came through it with many positive characteristics. Our Generation honored family values. We were perhaps the last generation of a majority of stay-at-home moms. We have the largest percentage of voters by demographic groups. We are the most financially sound — as a group — probably because we were raised with the old saying, “Waste not, want not.”  We’re patriotic. We volunteer. We tithe.

Some of our age group were not so silent as they left their mark on history: Martin Luther King, Jr., John Glenn, Maya Angelou, Gloria Steinem.

All our lives we have heard the cry for new schools, more housing, and (most recently) improvements in Social Security, Medicare and other retirement benefits — all for the Boomers that are coming along behind us. We have helped carry the load, quietly, responsibly, seldom mentioning that we too might like to be recognized for what we have given to society.

Like I said, Middle Kid Syndrome.

A friend posted on Facebook that her cat, who had had surgery, was “drunk as old Cooter Brown.” Now, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard this expression, but I suddenly wondered who Cooter Brown was and how he became the epitome of drunkenness.

Well, according to the Urban Dictionary, during the Civil War, Cooter Brown lived right on the line between North and South, so that he was vulnerable to be drafted by either army. He had friends and family on both sides of the argument and he surely did not want to fight. So he determined to get drunk and stay drunk for the duration of the war, thus being seen as unfit for military service. To honor and remember old Cooter’s efforts, his name became a metaphor (especially in the South) for being inebriated. He is further honored by having pubs and taverns named for him in New Orleans, San Antonio and Jacksonville, AL . . . I hear tell.

I have been thinking about old sayings lately because the palms of my hands (and sometimes the soles of my feet) itch. I Googled a question and there are almost as many urban legends as medical explanations. Legends first. Somewhere in my memory bank was the old saying that if the palm of your right hand itches, you will meet a stranger; if the left hand itches, you will come into some money. There are many opinions on the Internet, most dealing with money rather than strangers. Since both my hands itch, I figure a stranger is going to bring me some money. (Actually I’m thinking I have become allergic to the hand soap, bath soap, dish soap, or laundry soap I use. All name brands I been faithful to for the past ten years.)

Another old saying (that has nothing to do with anything I’ve written so far) is “too wet to plow.” When I Googled that phrase, all the references indicated the saying originated 40 or so years ago from a country/western song “I can’t dance and it’s too wet to plow.” The phrase means, “Might as well do (whatever) because there’s nothing else I can do right now.” This is explained (among other places) on the Texas A&M sponsored page “More Colorful Texas Sayings Than You Can Shake a Stick At.” Google it if you’re interested.

HOWEVER, I know for sure that phrase is way more than 40 years old. I have heard it all my life. My mother used it a lot, meaning something not so good. “Once that happens, it’s too wet to plow,” or “If you do that it’s going to be too wet to plow.” Meaning when a farmer has so much rain they can’t even plow (because they will get stuck), that’s not a good thing. Or it’s a good thing (rain) turned bad (mud).

For instance: He got drunk as old Cooter Brown and lost his lottery ticket. Even though his palms itched, it was too wet to plow.

Will I see you in September?” A musical question posed in 1959 by a barely remembered  group, “The Tempos.”

If you plan to see a particular someone during September, you need to get a move on, because “the days dwindle down to a precious few.”

In Arkansas, the September weather has been pleasantly mild — sometimes more like October. We’ve had a few days of needed rain but mostly crisp mornings and sunny warm afternoons. High School football season has gained momentum. Children practice soccer on every open field in town. Christmas decorations grace the shelves at Wal-Mart and the dollar stores.

During the past month there were opportunities to recognize special days. The first day of Autumn. Grandparents Day. Step-family Day. Bring Your Manners to Work Day. And we can still take part in Ask A Stupid Question Day on Tuesday, September 30.

We can be thankful for the invention of the ATM machine, safety pin, band-aid and ice cream cone, all happening during this month. As well as the birth of Buddy Holly (1936) and the death of Princess Diana (1997).

For us, in our large extended family, this month included a baby shower — a happy occasion to welcome a new family member expected in November. It also brought a wake — a farewell to a young man who left us too soon. Such is life in a big family.

And so, we move on to October. Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Fire Prevention Week, Homemade Cookies Day. Days to honor Christopher Columbus and Little Orphan Annie. Then soon, soon, the Autumn leaves will begin to fall.

Somewhere in the Wild West a dust storm is brewing. All the men in town have gone to drive their cattle to a safer place, leaving their women-folk holed up in the only brick building in town: the saloon/ brothel.

There is excitement and mystery wrapped up in the stories of the mix of characters in the saloon, four women of the brothel, four ladies from the town, a stranger who staggers in out of the storm and — oh, my — a dead body.

This is the setting of Wild Dust, a delightful play I attended this afternoon at Center on the Square in Searcy, AR.  The director, Sally Paine, is one my favorite people in the whole world, and her assistant in this project, Jon Bucher, can absolutely do magic. So of course I expected to be entertained.

The excellent cast includes Robbie Ballew as the dusty stranger who blows in (sorry) to ride out the storm and change the life of the traumatized young girl, Denise, played by Carolyn Walker. Marion, Sally, and Belle, residents of the ‘social club’ are brilliantly played by Vanessa Ott, Ashley Gaines, and Julie Bridges.

Lauren Lawson is splendid as Hard Cora, the local blacksmith (who has a soft side after all) and Lyndsay Ballew does a sensitive, believable job as the blind Rebecca, moving about the stage with just the right amount of hesitation vs confidence.

Rounding out the cast was Sophie Fuller as Gertie Styles and Rickae Boyd as Gertie’s domineering mother, Louise. They interact deliciously as Gertie moves from a stuttering timid girl to a self-confident young lady and Louise learns that there is often good inside a person despite the outside wrapping.

And last but not least, Carson McGill turned in a very solid, even performance as Martin.  (This role is double cast with Kris Monroe as Martin during some performances.)

Central Arkansas is lucky to have high quality community theater in Searcy.  I would certainly recommend this current production for an afternoon or evening of fine food and good entertainment.

You can find out more about the theater schedules and tickets here.