We should take joy in the little things that make up this wonderful tapestry that is life. Oh, 'Tapestry' is also a beaut Carole King album. I think I might put 'Hard Rock Cafe' on my iPod. I know that's not from 'Tapestry', but it's just a vagary that floated through my mind. I'd rather think about Carole King songs than the usual cesspit of emotions that swirls there, dark and sinister. There is something for which I am very grateful in this crazy old pile of embroidery and cross-stitch. I am thrilled to bits that I knew the apostle Luke was a physician. And if you didn't know before, now you all know, too. You're probably wondering why in heckety-heck it should matter if you know the apostle Luke was a physician. You're probably wondering why I'm so delighted I knew this. Yes, the bulk of Our Lord's apostles were fishermen, but there had to be other jobs, too. Like I said, Luke was a physician. This is something I happened to know, but for years and years I've wondered how I can possibly make use of this knowledge. Well, last Saturday night I was at the club playing trivia, as is my wont. I was all by myself because my usual team mate is in hospital. I didn't ask to join any other teams, I wanted to fly solo. The questions were pretty good, but I wanted to kick myself for writing 'Tony Grieg' instead of 'Keppler Vessels' for a cricket related question. I had thought about writing Vessels, but wasn't sure if he had played for both South Africa and Australia, and I was pretty sure Grieg had. Anyway, you guessed it: the answer was Keppler Vessels. But back to the point. As the questions wore on, and my confidence increased, the host said something along the lines of, 'Question twenty-five: who is the patron saint of doctors?' This is a moment I've been waiting for. It's like a singer who gets picked to perform the national anthem on Grand Final Day. It's like an athlete getting chosen for the Olympic team. Although I have never been actually told, or read, or absorbed via osmosis that St Luke is the patron saint of doctors, I made the connection in my crazy old mind that having been a physician, then it would stand to reason the Doctor Disciple is the patron saint of doctors. So I wrote 'Luke' on my answer sheet. And I got it right!!! And, even better, I won the game. Playing alone. I got to pocket the $200.00 prize money all to my greedy, avaricious self. On the way home, I sat behind the wheel of my car doing a victory dance to Huey Lewis & The News' 'Hip To Be Square', which happened to be coming from the radio. But for years, I have wanted to put my knowledge about St Luke to good use, and I did. I fuelled my car, and bought the groceries the very next day.
When I was a kid, it was important to me that I be liked. Now that I am older, I think I have grown up not only physically, but emotionally. Oh, I guess I have a very small wanting to be liked, but if people I don't know don't really like me, I'm finding I'm vascillating between either not giving a shit, or being rather amused. Twice in as many weeks I've been abused by different people online, and then blocked. The only thing annoying me is I can't respond to the stupid comments because I'm blocked. It's all very well for folk to say, 'Simone, don't respond. Don't give them ammunition.' The snag herein is that the comments or accusations are often fallacious, and I just want to defend myself. Oh, and deliver a worthwhile zinger in the form of the written word that in a boxing ring would have my abuser lying flat on the canvas with a ring of stars circling over their stupid unconscious countenances. So if anybody wants to abuse me for my views, then at least give me the opportunity to respond, or answer your criticism.
I could choose to not ark up over idiotic stuff I read on Derryn Hinch's Justice Party threads, but a veritable tsunami of pig-ignorance must be addressed. Well, in my mind (which in its recesses stored the information that Christ's disciple Luke was a physician; let's not forget that), it must be addressed. Any regular readers know what I'm going to say to this lot, and I won't repeat it here. We know I will point out to folks what the judiciary take into account upon formulating sentences. This particular court matter, from Victoria, involved a defendant with a Middle Eastern name. There were calls for the dude to be deported. But what got me really blinking was some remark about how all the 'sand monkees' could just rot on Manus and Nauru. I had to ask the poster to clarify exactly what were 'sand monkees'. I asked him were they a commercially constructed pop band designed specifically to appeal to adolescent girls, and was the lead singer a diminutive baby-faced cutie with an appealing accent, and was he - as was the drummer - a former child actor. Were the others probably more serious as musicians, and was one of them financially set up for life because his mother had invented liquid paper? (If you don't know, Mike Nesmith's mother invented liquid paper. Remember this, it's often the subject of trivia questions, and you too might win $200.00 all to yourself).
Anyway, the hour groweth late. Your blogger groweth tired. Your blogger had a lovely day off work, and went to lunch with her husband - using one of the club vouchers she had won at the trivia. Your blogger also sent off the manuscript of her next novel back to the publisher with only four errors found, so hopefully after this it will be ready for print!
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