Plus and Minus

I like to be optimistic and stay positive. I consider myself a clear thinker; clearly I’m not, but I like to think I am. When given a set of circumstances where a problem is to be solved I am confident in my ability to examine the options, consider the possible outcomes, and choose the best solution available.

But when I am in a hurry and there are only two possible choices and I have some, albeit limited, knowledge of the problem at hand, I will guess and get on to the next thing. Guessing or assuming based on incomplete information is bad form and is usually punished.

As a public service please allow me to let you in on a little secret. Just as you cannot judge a book by its cover, you cannot judge the charge of an electrical wire based only on its color.

AC (alternating current) and DC (direct current) are too confusing for the average person to grasp without getting electrocuted. One is for the house; one is for the car, and when you combine both you get a pretty good rock band from Australia.

It gets even more confusing. On the DC side of the things red is positive and black is negative. In the unfriendly world of AC, the black wire is hot (not to be confused with positive), and the white is neutral (not negative).

Last fall, thinking I was being smart, I disconnected the battery from the camper and brought it (the battery, not the camper) into the house for safekeeping and an occasional charge. We got a slow start on the camping season this year, so last week on the night before we were supposed to leave I reconnected the battery, only stopping briefly to consider the colors of the wires.

Having jump-started dozens of cars and trucks over the last forty years, I was used to black and red wires for car batteries, but I only had black and white to work with on the camper. So instead of crawling underneath the camper and following the wires to wherever they may lead, I concluded that black must be negative because it always is with a car battery, and the folks at the camper factory must have run out of red wire and grabbed a length of white instead.

Unfortunately, I chose unwisely – I connected the positive wire to the negative post, and the negative wire to the positive post; I got my wires crossed and reversed polarity.  When that happens things get damaged and they won’t work properly. Who knew? Fuses blew, power was lost, trailer brakes locked up and wouldn't release, and I thought I my camping days were over.

With some adjustments we were able to salvage a weekend trip and visit some county fairs, and not once did my wife call me stupid; she could have – but why state the obvious?  As I have told my son, Nathan, and now my son-in-law, Adam, “I do these things so you don’t have to.”

When we got back into town I brought the camper to Noble RV, where they fixed the camper, and in true professional form, they politely ignored the opportunity to call me names and tease me. It all worked out, and I was able to maintain my positive outlook, even when things got negative.

Cloudy Days

I was blessed with a mother who, among other things, enjoyed looking at clouds and finding animals, funny characters and other shapes within the clouds. I believe it was games and activities such as cloud-gazing which expanded my imagination and showed me how to look at both sides of an issue. It taught me to look for the good, the silver lining in every cloud, but it also taught me to keep watch for the clouds as well. Good and bad will often share the same stage.

However it doesn't always end well – at least where the silver shines through. Childhood gives way to adulthood and troubles loom large on the horizon and block out the sun. In life, as in drama there are two masks we must wear from time to time – comedy and tragedy.  

Some of the men whose comic work I admire have bowed out early – John Belushi, John Candy, Chris Farley, Mitch Hedberg, Andy Kaufman and now Robin Williams. Williams died last Monday, and when I heard the news a feeling of emptiness settled in.

Robin Williams had a lightning quick wit and an uncanny ability to improvise. It seems to me in order to be that funny, to find comedy in so many areas of life means the tragic side of life is close at hand waiting its turn in the wings. I can’t find any bright spot in his death; I am glad he was here however.

In 1967 Judy Collins released, “Both Sides Now,” a song written by Joni Mitchell.

I won’t give you my stanza by stanza interpretation of the words (I used to argue with my teachers and professors over “the author’s use of symbolism and foreshadowing.”), but allow me to suggest a few things I got from the song. Children start out life happy and innocent, letting their imaginations go skyward, but soon childhood visions are pushed aside when adulthood responsibilities take over. Memories linger of the clouds and those empty illusions are replaced by love lost and an unfulfilled life. The writer is left to admit that they don’t understand clouds, love, or life.

We must keep looking for the silver lining. Robin Williams – He made me laugh, he made me cry.

I suggest you listen to Collins sing as you read the lyrics.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7Xm30heHms

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
When every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now 
From win and lose and still somehow 
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

Party Line

When I was kid it took just four numbers to call my friends; the prefix and the area code were not required. If you had to use the area code that meant long distance – and that meant a phone bill was being tallied by the phone company for every minute spent on the phone. This amount would only become known when the phone bill arrived; rates varied on the weekends, after six and on holidays.  In other words – nobody but Ma Bell knew for sure, and she encouraged us to dial a 1 followed by all ten numbers. After all, long distance was the next best thing to being there, so we were told.

But every word, every pause, every minute counted – time was precious. Talking on the phone with someone “long distance,” rarely allowed for a casual conversing experience even if you were paying the bill (which I wasn’t) as someone would eventually be heard saying, “better keep it short, this is long distance.”  I often thought – is the person on the other end only worth $2.95 and not $4.65? My older brother and sister were both in college hundreds of miles away so phone calls never seemed long enough – still cheaper and faster than driving I suppose.

Calling long distance could mean calling someone in another country or the next county. Rhonda, then my girlfriend, lived only about twelve miles from my house, but to call her meant to call long-distance.

Most homes had only one phone located in a very public place such as the kitchen where privacy was never served. Although many people had phones in their homes with their own phone number, many people had to share a line (a party line) with others in the neighborhood. For instance, when Rhonda, now my wife, was growing up her family had to share the line with two other families – seventeen people (nine teenagers) all sharing each other’s secrets. She would pick up the phone and discover a conversation already in progress. It was like turning on the radio in the middle of a talk show – except you were not welcome to listen in; although some did.

When we moved out here twenty years ago we were having trouble with our phone line – sometimes it became a party line. The problem was that the phone line was lying exposed in the ditch. The flimsy wires in the weeds were occasionally munched on by the neighbor’s horses. This went on for a couple years – the phone company would patch the wires and the horses would disconnect them.

Land lines are disappearing and are being replaced with cell phones and with that the long-distance charges are going away too.  I was talking to my friend Tim, the L.A. movie star, last week about the changes in the telephone. He remembers running in from outside because so and so was calling long-distance. Now his friends call him from all over the country to tell him a joke, even when they can’t remember the punch line.

It seems now almost everyone has a cell phone so it’s never been easier to reach out and touch someone. I don’t even have to remember my friends’ phone numbers, which is good because they are no longer just four numbers; they now include the prefix and area code. To call my friends and family just takes a tap or two on my phone.

Bingo

Most people can spell it, and I would guess that most people have played it. It’s a simple game, yet it is popular with children and adults. Depending upon the variation played, there is usually more than one way to win: four corners, horizontal and vertical, diagonal and an occasional cover-all. Bingo – you guessed it.

I first played bingo in the basement of our church and have played it in dozens of parks and church halls ever since. I don’t remember ever winning, although having played the game many times over almost fifty years its hard to imagine that I didn’t get to shout out its namesake at least once.

I remember watching my dad call bingo in the basement of the church and at the park during Barbeque Days in Belle Plaine. He approached the game in a straight-forward, no-nonsense style; he called out the letter/number combinations clearly and succinctly, repeating them only once. Everyone was tuned in to his baritone voice waiting and hoping that he would call the number they needed so they could shout, “Bingo!”

“Bingo’s been called, hold your cards please,” was his reply.

In the last few years I have followed in my dad’s footsteps once more, because I too became one of the chosen few – a bingo caller at Barbeque Days and Derby Days. Now having been on the other side of the rolling balls I can let you in on my life as a bingo caller.

The traditional game is simple enough, but like most everything else it has been tampered with. The changes make it more difficult for the caller. Let me explain.

When four corners is chosen as the exclusive way to win then the only numbers that qualify are those that track with the B and O. That’s a lot to remember when the balls are rolling toward you at fifty miles an hour; a guy can get confused. But the confusion never lasts long, as the crowd is quick to remind you of your error and shout out instructions.

The serious bingo player likes their game called at a measured pace and to the point. Go too slow and they get impatient, go too fast and they will tell you to slow down, but just a little bit as they want the game to keep moving. Don’t talk too loud lest you annoy them, too soft and they can’t hear you. It’s serious business.

Staying serious in anything has been a life-long challenge for me.  So to make bingo calling interesting I have worked up a few comments to go with some of the numbers; I’m sure there are others. Feel free to use them the next time you are asked to call bingo.

I usually start out the first game by telling the crowd that although I don’t take requests I will on occasion do a dedication, and then later when B4 comes up I will say, “This ones going out from Elvis to Priscilla. “Priscilla, before I met you I was lost. B4.”

B1, the call to conform. Join the club.

B2, or not 2B; Shakespeare’s number.

B8, looks the same upside down – sort of.

B9, good news from the doctor – “the tests came back from the lab and it’s benign.”   

B12, the vitamin.

B13, the lucky one.

I16 going on 17, innocent as a rose.

I17 going on 18 I’ll take care of you.

I18, and I like it – so says Alice Cooper.

I21, yes, but I still need to see some identification.

I29, the interstate that runs between the Dakotas and Minnesota and down to Missouri.

G55, gee officer I’m sure I was only going 55.

I didn’t say they were funny, it’s just something to crazy it up a bit. I can’t just sit there and do things the normal way; I look for a different way to play – Because I Need Goofy Options.