College library (Photo credit: Paul Stainthorp)
I never followed TV shows after about 1970, so I never saw Seinfeld until I ran across an episode on one of those cable channels that show old reruns all day. I read Seinfeld was about nothing, and I have decided my blog is about nothing.
Thus, when someone says, why do you blog, I say, who knows?
Perhaps it’s because I like to remind myself I can still type?? I never took typing classes in high school, although after I married, my first husband shipped out to Japan and I moved home with my parents. My Dad who probably wanted a second income, decided to send me to a local business college where I learned to type. I told people I wanted to be a secretary, but couldn’t pass the Civil Service typing test…or the shorthand test either. In those days, if you wanted to become a secretary, ala Anne Southern, you had to take dication and type at least 40 wpm.
If you were a woman, about the only white-collar work you could get involved a typewriter or keeping books. I excelled at the latter, but today could not get a job in that field unless I worked for a small company again. I love small companies. I made the least money and had the best time working for small companies or in the library at my undergraduate college where I shelved thousands of books.
My rudimentary typing and shorthand skills served me well when I went to college which I began at age 28 with 3 kids in tow. I was a single parent by then and my 12-year old daughter had a paper route that took her past one of my classrooms. One day, I was hanging out the window with several other girls and she walked by and yelled ‘Hello Mom.’ My cover blown, after that, the other girls knew I was ten years older. An old woman in their book.
But that made me the same age as one of my sociology professors who also overheard my daughter. He, a twenty-something Catholic Italian boy from New York, was a head shorter than me, had nicotine stained teeth, and had just finished his PhD. This was his first year teaching and he made the mistake of telling me I was the brightest girl he had ever known. Having received little praise in those days, I developed what I thought was a crush on him.
These feeling mortified me, an old married woman with three kids. Looking back I realize they were probably maternal feelings. The oldest child and a tall person, I frequently have maternal feelings for people who are younger and shorter than me, which means most of the female population and half of the male population. I made the mistake of mentioning my inchoate feelings to my husband at the time (now EX) who had been carrying on an affair with a former neighbor for several years.
My revelation led to his revelation and from one thing to another. Soon I was single again. Perhaps this goes to show that honesty in marriage does not always pay, but after I left the EX, I was happy to discover I could work with debits and credits even if I couldn’t type. Thus began my life long search for good solid paid employment which led me through many jobs the last being a statistician.
Supposedly, John Lennon told his son, ‘Life is what happens when you are making other plans.’ I think he was right.