And Then I Said ...

Updates

Mark Trost — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 20:44:58 +0000

I do update this blog but because I’ve reversed the order - the new posts never appear at the front of the blog. So - if you go to www.markrtrost.com you’ll find the blog in the traditional order. And then you can subscribe to a feed. Or begin at the end. Of course you can just click on the drop down list of archives and select the current month.

A Musing

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:57:00 +0000

► I’m thinking we (as a general society) have afforded Olivia Newton-John more credit than her talents actually deserve.

► I bought a bag of candy called “cream savers orange and cream.” I don’t understand why someone combined artificial orange and artificial vanilla and wrapped the flavors into something called “soft candy.” As an ice cream novelty - of course. As a chewy lozenge; no. I’m firm on this.

► I’ve made a major decision in my life. When a banjo is the primary instrument providing the accompaniment of a song, I hate it. For instance: this would include anything by Roy Clark. Now - when the banjo is a member of an accompanying ensemble … not featured you understand - but just one of many sounds … then each song must be judged on a case by case basis. For instance: Amie by Pure Prairie League. I have nothing against the banjo. Included … ok. Featured? No.

February 14, 2007

Salacious Seventies Songs

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:52:00 +0000

What the hell is going on with songs in the 70s? Last night I heard that song “Gypsies Tramps and Thieves” (Cher) and I remembered the song “Last Time I Saw Him” (Diana Ross.) I lived during the 1970s. Not once did I see a wagon in a town and not once did I know of traveling salesmen who impregnated women and then scaddadled. I just find it odd that TWO songs were written with similar topics at the same time. What the hell kind of village did these people live in anyway?

February 14, 2007

Greeting Cards & Creativity

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:46:00 +0000

It was my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. I actually decided to make my own greeting card. Sure. It sounds frugal. It does. But I assure you it wasn’t an act of avarice. It wasn’t an act of sloth. I live in Highland Park. There are at least seven shops within walking distance that sell cards. I could have walked across the street and bought a card at the bookstore. It was an action of misguided creativity. So, I bought construction paper. I shuffled tunes. And I sat down to create. Ok. I had no crayons. Yes, you are right. What kind of house hasn’t crayons? And then I had no glue. No Elmer’s. No glue stick. Ok. I have a glue gun. Sure. I watch HGTV. But, I thought using a glue gun on construction paper seemed extreme. So … I found wallpaper paste. Now, for the record - wallpaper paste and construction paper is not a good partnership.

You may think my card looked like some folk art project. No. It looked like a kindergarten art assignment. And frankly, I think putting a greeting card from a 44 years old man on a refrigerator door just seems wrong. So, I fashioned the card and it looked awful. My creative expectations had hoped higher. Well, … I might as well have spit tobacco juice at cardboard in some Jackson Pollockesque spray of affection. But - I tried. The sentiment was sincere.

February 14, 2007

Four Fundamental Facts

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:30:00 +0000

1. If you have a meeting and you’re running behind and you need to iron a shirt - fire blowing out the backend of your iron like it’s eaten too much Mexican food is not a good thing and the neighborhood Walgreens store isn’t going to have a reasonable iron for sale. It’s only going to offer an iron that is provided with the new Malibu-Barbie Beach House which almost defies authenticity because anyone who lives in a beach house in Malibu doesn’t iron. They pay people to do things like that. Or they buy a new shirt.

2. If you are at the dealership having your car’s oil changed and you see the new Lincoln Navigator you need to be aware of a few facts. (a) the dealership will not provide tissues so that you can wipe the drool off your chin. You might as well run your chin across your sleeve. Why not? It’s already wrinkled. (b) a man will actually chase you across the lot and shout the mantra … “Sure … I understand you’re not in the market right now but let’s just run the numbers.” (c) even though you tell yourself that the Navigator’s gas mileage sucks … you’ll secretly conjugate the verb “to covet” the entire drive home.

3. No matter how many times Christina Aguilera’s publicist plasters her face in the media and no matter how many times she’s dunked in flea dip - she’s still a skank.

4. If your buddy tells you of the sheer joy of solving the sudoku … and if you work on it at the dealership while you’re waiting for your car … and if you have to ask the receptionist for a pencil because all you have is a pen … (and if she rolls her eyes at you and flares her nostrils in some vain attempt to disguise the fact that she’s never even heard of a pencil and you now seem so old you might as well have asked her where you can get your powder-blue leisure suit dry cleaned) and while thinking that the sudoku is a logical puzzle and reminiscing that you got a “D” in logic because you spent the entire semester trying to persuade Cari-Lynn that it was in fact quite logical that the two of you should hook up and while remembering that she never did see the logic in your argument (so she must have gotten a poor grade too) and you spent one hell of a huge amount of money on a philosophy class at a private college that 20 years later was ill spent because a “D” doesn’t provide you with the adequate foundation to solve the sudoku at a dealership - which is ok … because you can’t see the puzzle in the newspaper anyway. Your drool has made all the ink smear.

February 14, 2007

Michelle, Lisa, & Anna Nicole

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:20:00 +0000

Michelle Bachmann:

I watched Michelle Bachmann’s justification for her behavior. I worry when one’s judgment for behavior is “caught up in the moment.” Hopefully she’s less impulsive and more reflective and contemplative. I’m thinking that when one becomes a member of a legislature (whether it be statewide or national) one should have a basic understanding of the language of its country. And I don’t mean it should be limited to rural idioms. No. I expect a reasonable ability to spell a word, define it, and use it in a sentence. Obviously Ms. Bachmann has no understanding or familiarity with the words decorum or propriety. And quite frankly I believe her behavior at the State of The Union gives Minnesota direct cause to view her kindergarten report card. It’s obvious she scored poorly on “keeping your hands to yourself.” So I’m thinking we might have future incidents that reflect equally on “playing well with others.”

Lisa Nowak:

I’m so terribly sorry I actually know her name. When I hear someone say something that has no basis in reality I always say “they need to smell land” which implies they do not live on this good earth. Lisa adds a perfect spin to the phrase “spaced out.”

Anna Nicole Smith:

I didn’t watch her show. I’ve never worn Guess Jeans (do they make men’s jeans?) and I always thought she was too “hefty” to be truly attractive. I now know more about Anna then I know about Grover Cleveland. And that’s just sad. And that’s quite reflective on contemporary American culture.

February 14, 2007

Difference Between Human And Humanity

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:15:00 +0000

As human beings we deserve to be treated (and I mean as a fundamental right) and have the obligation to treat each other with honesty and compassion and respect and dignity. And I think the difference between being human and treating each other with humanity is that sometimes we have to extend that treatment to people who haven’t necessarily earned those rights through merits and deeds. And anyone who makes their actions dependent upon another’s reactions needs less behavioral justification and more ethical fortification. I can’t fathom an excuse for one’s behavior built upon a foundation of “You made me” and not “I chose to.”

February 14, 2007

Clotheslines

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:05:00 +0000

Ok. Yes. I’ll admit it. Anachronistic. Perhaps. But is there anything better than sliding between clean sheets breeze dried and sunshine scented after a hot summer’s day? Ok. Yes, there are better things:

1. Corn on the cob slathered with butter dripping down the chins of grinning sloppy faces.

2. Baby giggles.

3. Dinah Washington singing anything.

Everyone is concerned by secondhand smoke. Ok … have they ever smelled the fumes from a dryer? Previously, there was a use for a clothespin. It wasn’t created as a supply for a girl scout art project. And what about all those crafts we learned in boy scouts, girl scouts, and webelos? I’ve never seen anyone cook anything of any merit on a coffee can with screwdriver punctured air vents. Never. And if you say that you have - I don’t believe you.

February 14, 2007

Malt-O-Memories

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:59:00 +0000

I’m sitting here chewing a homemade chocolate chip cookie. Now, I love oatmeal. I do. I know there are those who prefer Malt-O-Meal. And I can’t say that I blame them. I spent many a wintry morning waiting with my brother Michael for the school bus at the end of a long, frozen-mudded farm driveway with woolen mittens on our hands, crocheted scarves on our throats and Malt-O-Meal warmed stomachs as we stamped our snowmobile boots to the rhythmic beat of “where’s that goddamned bus?” So it might as well be called Malt-O-Memories (which would be one hell of an ad campaign. You add “remember the goodness” to the packaging and you reinvent the product) And it must be chocolate. (Plain Malt-O-Meal? Isn’t that called farina or something like that? I never quite knew what farina was … I just remember seeing it in a Mad Magazine which is an entirely different topic that I’ll end here.) Anyway, Malt-O-Meal as a cookie? I think not.

February 14, 2007

We’re Bound To Like Things Loose

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:56:00 +0000

Ok. I’ve figured out what’s wrong with everybody. God said: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (Mt 16:19). Well now nothing is held bound in our society, so everything is let loose. There are no standards. When there are no standards of behavior or rules of conduct and all things are allowed … then there is no perspective because there aren’t degrees. And when there are no degrees then no one can keep perspective on what is most important or at least some idea of an order of importance. Things that should be held loose are held bound as if they were binding. And things that should have been bound are loose so there is nothing binding society’s conduct together.

Now everyone feels his or her actions and reactions are of equal importance. And since all actions and reactions are parallel then a hierarchy can’t exist. Everyone’s lost perspective. Their vision is now linear. Importance should be based on function and necessity or at least on merit and deed. Now it’s based on loudness and insistence. Pity. The squeaky wheel did get the grease. I’ve always maintained it should just be replaced.

February 15, 2007

Extending That Helping Hand

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:50:00 +0000

During my convalescence I spent many days on a cot in the living room across the street from the College of Saint Catherine. One day there was a charity walk and I watched as hundreds of people strolled by. I saw couples walking. I saw shared walks between friends. I saw families. Women. Men. Students. Groups. And I saw sporadically spaced solitary souls. As the crowds marched by I became increasingly morose. With almost exasperating repetition I’d ask myself why no one turned around and invited these single walkers to join their group. All the walkers were united for a common good but the separation was apparent. There wasn’t an implied clique. So was this thoughtlessness fueled by indifference? Apathy? Selfishness? My heart was broken; I turned away from the window.

February 16, 2007

Egg Blog

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:47:00 +0000

I’m sitting here eating an egg salad sandwich and typing with messy fingers. I like my egg salad gooey. Ok. Now just wait. I make a great egg salad. No. Honestly I do. It’s one of my gifts. Get ready to hit the print icon because here’s the recipe:

eggs
mayonnaise
dollop of butter
splash of mustard
smidgen of tarragon
dash of dill weed
shake of sugar
salt

Slap it on bread and serve it with chips and a beverage. Ok wait. Only some beverages are apropos. For instance - carbonated? Yes. Iced tea? Absolutely. Milk? No certainly not. Milk/chips/egg salad do not belong together. And yes. There are rules to all of this. And just how much is a dollop, a splash, a smidgen, a dash, and a shake? Hell, I don’t know. I just like the words. It’s like the word “sloth” or even “lush.” These are great words that have lost their place in the vernacular but retain their style.

February 16, 2007

Rising To One’s Feet

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:44:00 +0000

Dr. Ryan Pfannenstein DPM is a phenomenal human being. Although I met Dr. Pfannenstein on one of the last days of my hospitalization, I didn’t know of his generosity until my follow-up appointments with him. Dr. Pfannenstein is knowledgeable, capable, and professional. He has such an enthusiasm for his profession. He is so generous with his time. No appointment is hurried. No question is unanswered. No fear belittled. No ignorance uneducated. All of his attributes are the cornerstones of a fantastic physician.

Yet Dr. Pfannenstein has something far more precious than these attributes. Once during an examination I had taken off my shoe and my sock and placed them on the floor. While talking to me Dr. Pfannenstein casually reached down and rolled my sock into a proper ball, placed it inside my shoe, and placed shoe and sock on a chair. This attention to detail seems superfluous but it is indicative of his manner. Dr. Pfannenstein reminded me of my innate dignity. I feel confident in his abilities. I feel assured of his compassion. I feel surety in his judgments. He has a fundamental decency that is exceedingly rare. Dr. Pfannenstein is the finest physician I’ve ever met. I am blessed to be his patient.

Whenever I feel the stress of life or the pressure of perseverance and I’m tempted to smoke - I remember Dr. Pfannenstein. It would be so unjust to waste all his work.

February 16, 2007

Count On Cole

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:37:00 +0000

You’ve got to have some things you can count on. I love the vocalists of the 50s and 60s. Give me Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Dinah Washington & Kay Starr. I know many people would include Sammy Davis, Jr., Judy Garland, & Dean Martin in this list.

But I can’t. You can’t count on them. Either they vocalized too much. Or they finger-snapped too often. Or they had too many the night before. But they’re too iffy. But not Nat King Cole. You can count on him.

February 16, 2007

Shrouded By A Smoke Screen

Mark Trost — Wed, 07 May 2008 19:32:00 +0000

I smoked 3 packs of Winston cigarettes a day for 25 years. I enjoyed them tremendously. People frequently ask me how I managed to quit. I was hospitalized a couple years ago with complications from diabetes. As I walked into the Regions Hospital Emergency Room I saw people standing outside smoking cigarettes near the parking lot. And I saw the selfishness of their behavior. The people they claimed to love were inside the building in various stages of trauma. Yet they were outside removed from their responsibilities. Were they holding their loved one’s hands? No. Were they closing their hands in supplication on the behalf of their loved ones? No. Were they offering solace to the other visitors? No. They were engaged in an activity that was completely self-centered. And I saw the cowardliness of their behavior.

It’s easier to stand outside and remain geographically removed from a stressful situation. It’s easier to stand outside and remain emotionally removed from a stressful situation. And it’s easier to stand outside and remain steadfastly removed from the responsibilities of one’s own behavior and claim it’s not one’s fault. I know. I did it for years.

February 16, 2007