I think there ought to be an 11th Commandment...

T's* View
I think there ought to be an 11th commandment -- "Thou shalt not humiliate.” I’ve seen so many feelings hurt and so many relationships damaged by a violation of that rule that it makes me wonder why more attention isn't given to it. The worst part of it is that often the hurt is not intentional, yet if only people would stop and think before they say something that might humiliate the other, so much pain could be avoided. If only people would put themselves in the other person's shoes and think how they would feel if what they're about to say would be said about them (especially in front of others), maybe they'd see what they're doing. I don't know when we reach that age of self consciousness where what others think of us matters, but it seems to surface somewhere in adolescence, and the taunting by classmates gives us our first taste of humiliation. I’ve even seen teachers who could cut a student down something terrible in front of a whole class and not give it a thought, then it's left for the poor mother to figure out why Susie hates to go to school. And parents are not exempt from the malady of putting down their kids, either, how many times have you seen a mother berate one of her children in public place or in front of his peers and think nothing of it? Yet when someone can't fight back, the wound can cause deep scars and it doesn't surprise me to hear that a lot of the violent crimes committed are in retaliation for pent-up anger or humiliation. Once we pass the adolescent stage and get into the dating years, you'd think we'd be on our best behavior to attract a potential mate, yet from what I've observed, that's when the act of humiliation seems to be practiced most! I've seen young fellas flirt with every girl passing by while they're with a date and never stop to think that it might be humiliating to the girl they're with (especially if they land up flirting with the girl's worst enemy). And the remarks they make to put the girl herself down makes you wonder if they're trying to court her or chase her away. Is that supposed to be macho, or are they fighting within themselves, on the one hand wanting a relationship, yet on the other hand fearful of getting involved and losing their freedom? But then I've seen girls pointing out to their date how terrific some other guy is, presumably to show that the present date isn't all that he could be, and then they wonder why he doesn't call anymore. The worst violators of the “11th commandment”, though, seem to be husbands and wives. In a relationship that's so close, feelings are bound to be closer to the surface and humiliation in that partnership can be devastating. I wonder how many divorces are caused by some cutting words being used once too often, yet it's so easy to start a relationship off on the wrong foot. Putting each other down can so easily become a way of life; it might start off with “only kidding" but then each one has to “get even" with the other and the “kidding" isn't really funny anymore. Everyone likes to have his or her ego boosted, not deflated, so why do people put each other down rather than boost them up? Do we think it takes something away from us to give the other person a boost? Do we fear the other person will feel too good about himself and look down on us if we build him up too much? I remember when I was getting married, my mother's advice to me and my husband was “Be kind to each other", and I think that about sums it up, because if we're kind to each other, we'll think twice before we humiliate.
* Terri the Typesetter
T-Views
Week of October 28, 1984

Have you seen the new touch lamps...

T’s* View
Have you seen the new "touch" lamps, which at the touch of a finger on certain parts of the lamp the light goes from dim to bright to brighter, and then off? Well, we got one a month or two ago and I'm curious to know if ours is a one-of-a-kind or if they all behave like ours does. The first time I plugged the lamp in, it was a real hot day so we had a fan on as well as the lamp, and every time the fan moved, the lamp got brighter or went off. Even a slight touch of the table it was on, made the lamp change from low to medium to high and then off. A wind blowing in the window or the slamming of a door also activated the lamp. Finally we disconnected the lamp and called the store we bought it from to ask for a replacement. The owner said he'd order another lamp for us and we could bring in the lamp we have now when the new one arrived. Not having heard from the store yet, I decided to give the lamp another try when the weather wasn't so hot and no fan was on and no wind was coming in from a window. (No one can say I didn't give The Lamp a chance.) This time the lamp stayed on all evening and seemed to be working fine - that is, until I tried to "touch" it off. I must have touched every inch of the lamp, to no avail, and figured the only way I'd be able to shut it off would be to unplug it. But rather than be in the dark, I turned on a lamp on another table first, and, lo and behold, the touch lamp went off! I figured it was just a fluke, but now I'm beginning to think The Lamp has a mind of its own. When I tried to show my husband the strange way the lamp acted, it decided to behave properly and made me sound like I was imagining things. But the next day when I tried to shut the light off, again it refused to go off. I told my husband to put the lamp on by his chair, and sure enough, my lamp went off. At least that showed him that I wasn't imagining things, but I should have known better than to let him in on the quirks of The Lamp - now he gets his jollies by turning his light on and off every time he wants to tease me, by turning my light on and off when I least expect it. When we tried to show the kids the "strange" actions of The Lamp, it again refused to cooperate and they thought we were both getting senile. But later in the evening, when one of the kids turned another light on in the room, The Lamp went off just like we said it did and they could see it for themselves. Of course, every time someone new came into the room, they put The Lamp through its paces, and everyone got a good laugh. - Now if I take The Lamp back to the store, how do I know if it will behave properly or act strangely? If I fell the store owner my story, will he think I'm off my rocker or will he believe me? Although, with all the fun we're having with our "new toy". I'm not sure I want to take The Lamp back after all. It's becoming like part of the family and I may just decide to keep it, if for nothing else than a conversation piece. - (Just as I finished writing this, The Lamp went off all by itself. That was a little eerie. I may be returning it to the store after all.)
 *Terri the Typesetter
October 7, 1984

Ever notice how easy something is after you've learned how to do it...

 T’s* View
 Ever notice how easy something is after you've learned how to do it, and how impossible it seemed before you learned it?  I remember the first time I was put at a desk with a phone that handled more than one line. Now that I know how to put someone on Hold, it seems impossible that I had so much trouble with the contraption back then, but at the time, I managed to cut someone off the line at least ten times a day. Then there was my first typesetting job. I started on a machine we called "the old klunker," which sounded like a machine gun in use and showed no typed material but punched holes on a yellow tape to signify which letters were used. I swore the first day I worked on it that I'd never last more than one day on the job, only to stay with that company ten years and go on to more and more advanced machines. Today it's the computer. The first time I saw the one I work on now, I was sure I'd never, never learn how to use it. Every time I pushed another button I was afraid I'd erase a whole week's work or foul up the whole mechanism. (And when a computer gets fouled up, it's FOULED UP! That's something it certainly can do better than any human can, as any of you who have been billed incorrectly by a computer must know.) Yet you can't stop progress and I figured if I wanted to hold a job I'd just have to conquer my fears. After all, there are millions of computers all over the world now and everyone seems to be using them, so they must be conquerable I told myself. And I have to admit that the procedures I learned seem very easy to me now, although there's still so much more to learn, I don't feel completely out of the woods yet. - Another item that gained popularity in these modern times is the microwave oven, although that, too, scares some people half to death. I have a friend who's had one in her home for almost a year now and has yet to use it for fear of blowing up the house or getting herself filled with radiation. - Then there's the computer codes used on groceries these days. I'm sure the system saves time and avoids human error, but every time I shop at a market that uses the codes, I can't help but feel that some of the sale items are being charged at the regular price because someone didn't program the sale price into the computer. And everything goes by so fast, I can't get the groceries on the counter and watch the register at the same time. And how about watches these days? You can get one that tells you the time all over the world (in digital, of course), as well as the date and temperature (some even have built-in calculators) but your eyesight better be good to be able to see it all. Personally, I'll stick to my watch with the good old hands that point to numbers I can see without using a magnifying glass. I guess what I'm trying to say is that progress is fine but it's all happening too fast and by the time I'm ready to get used to the newest invention, it becomes obsolete and there's something new to learn to live with. I remember reading Alvin Toffler's "Future Shock" a few years ago and thinking that he must be exaggerating, but from the looks of things, he knew what he was talking about. Guess I'll just have to speed up my system to keep up with the times, but don't say I didn't go down fighting! -
 *Terri the Typesetter
September 23, 1984

Ya can't win...

T’s* View
Ya can't win. Nope, you just can't. I finally got one of my teenagers to figure out how to turn a water faucet on in a sink full of dirty dishes (they know how to turn it on in the shower, all right — there they don't know how to turn it off) but when it comes to washing dishes, it seems they think the kitchen sink is just a place for dishes to accumulate and that somehow they get clean there all by themselves. Rather than go through the hassle of trying to get someone else to do dishes, I always did them myself, until one day I just rebelled and figured I didn't dirty them all so why should I have to wash them all. (I got that philosophy straight from the kids themselves. Make them eat their words, I told myself.) But as I watched one of them pour dishwashing detergent on one plate at a time and then run the water full force five minutes for each plate, the economical side of me went berserk seeing all that water go to waste. As I tried to demonstrate how to wash with less water running, I found myself back where I started —doing it myself, my way. Now if I could just let the kids do it their way I might get some help, but the water bill would be astronomical. So who lands up getting the job right back in her hands? You got it— good ole Mama. ---, Then there's the case of trying to get the kids to clean up their rooms, which usually look like a disaster just struck. If I do the laundry for them, I fold everything neatly and put it in the proper drawers, only to go into the room the next day and see everything strewn all over. Why? Evidently the first shirt picked wasn't suitable for that day, so out came another and another until the right shirt is found to suit the mood that day; but do the rejected shirts get folded and put back in the drawers? Of course not. They just join the rumpled pile of clothes left on the floor from the night before! And socks! You wouldn't believe where I've found dirty socks ... under the bed, in a closet, behind the dresser; I even found one once on top of a lamp. I think when they take their socks off at night they must just kick them into the air and let them fall where they may. Although I nag them and nag them to straighten up their rooms, my requests(?) go unheeded. Then they can't figure why I'll say no when they ask if a friend can stay overnight. If I tell them they could have someone over if they straighten their room first, they tell me not to worry, their friends' rooms look the same as theirs. It doesn't even embarrass them, while I want to hide my head in shame. What really kills me, though, is when they bring the friend over first and ask me right in front of him if he can sleep over. Of course this is usually late enough at night for it to be an inconvenience for the friend's parents to pick him up and besides they were already informed that he'd be sleeping over our house. So what's a mother to do? Run upstairs, try to straighten up real quick and make the best of it, it seems. After all, they're only my values, certainly not theirs, so what's to get uptight about (another of the kids' philosophies.) But someday they'll be grown up and out of the house and I'll be wishing to find a dirty sock in some forsaken corner, so they tell me. As I said, ya can't win!
*Terri the Typesetter
September 16, 1984

A grandmother of mine always carried an umbrella...

 T's * View
A grandmother of mine always carried an umbrella, no matter what the weather, and when I was a little girl I thought she was just a strange old lady. When I got a little older (and probably a little brasher) dared to ask her: "Grandma, why do you always carry an umbrella? It makes people laugh at you," to which she replied: "It makes people laugh? Good!" like to make people laugh. But do you really want to know why I always carry an umbrella?" Of course I nodded in the affirmative, curious to know what made Grandma such an eccentric, but as I think back on her answer I realize that her "eccentricity" was really a pretty good philosophy. "I carry an umbrella," she said, "so that I'll always be prepared for rain, but if it doesn't rain, then each day the sun shines is a special delight and I am grateful for it isn't is always nicer to see the sunshine when you were expecting rain? And it doesn't bother me if I carry the umbrella for nothing" she continued. "Actually, it makes a good cane if I'm unsure of my footing" (her umbrella wasn't one of those little fold-up jobs, it was a man's big black umbrella with a cane-type handle) "and if anybody thinks they're gonna get fresh with me, my bumbleshoot here makes a pretty good weapon" (Grandma lived on the lower east side of New York City and I guess even in those days there were unsavory characters around)
So that was the story of Grandma's umbrella, but what impressed me most was her appreciation of every sunny day that most people would probably have taken for granted. And it makes me think of the different kinds of people there are in the world. For instance, there are those who, if they carried an umbrella and it didn't rain, instead of being grateful for the sunshine, they'd grumble that they had to carry an umbrella for nothing, which when you think of it isn't such a bad price to pay for a beautiful day. Perhaps they'd even bemoan the fact that nature played a trick on them and nothing ever goes their way. Then there are those who might see dark clouds in the sky in the morning, know they ought to take an umbrella with them just in case, but will complain bitterly that it had the nerve to rain when they were without any protection. Personally, I like the kind of person who will see a rainy day and say, "So what, so I'll get a little wet and the world won't come to an end," and from there he or she will go on to Plan B for the rest of the day's activities.
But to get back to Grandma, her motto seemed to be be prepared for the worst but appreciate the good; or another way she put it was expect nothing, appreciate everything, which I'm sure is not an easy philosophy to live by but Grandma sure seemed to be a happy person. Another thing she used to say is: "Don't ever think the Good Lord has left us orphans. He's up there taking care of us all the time." This morning when I caught my heel on a step and could have taken a nasty fall but didn't because I grabbed the railing just in time, or last night when my husband and I were driving back from visiting his parents in the city and cars were all zigzagging all around us without any of them bumping us, I could almost hear Grandma saying "See, you are being watched over." Poor God, He never seems to get credit for the good He does, only the blame for when something goes wrong.
 皺 *Terri the Typesetter
T-Views Week of August 12, 1984