Clap. Laugh. Repeat.

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Recently, on a mission to stave off boredom while calming my anxiety issues, I turned to YouTube for enlightenment. And when I say enlightenment, I mean anything that keeps my brain from atrophy. Turned out, I uncovered a gold mine of frolicking good fun and a level of weirdness I had never quite experienced before.

In video number one, an attempt to answer an age-old question, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” had me falling out of my chair in convulsions of laughter. I’m not so sure I reached enlightenment, but my stomach is still sore from the belly-laughs.  Check it out. I will wait…

YouTube video number one

The apparent Zen boss guy attempted to approach the one-hand clapping question as a kaon, which is a story or question used in Zen practice to test a student’s progress. It is expected to lead to higher enlightenment. I understand the concept, but my brain works in strange and mysterious ways, attempting to find the humor in everything, especially things I don’t understand.  This has landed me in hot water more times than I can convey.

After my chuckle-fest, I collected myself and moved on to other thoughts, but my mind kept reverting to that video. The Zen boss guy slapped the student guy, which I assumed was either the example of a sound of one hand clapping, or a punishment for a non-compliance issue of some sort. I really didn’t care, because in my mind’s eye, I saw air-clapping…someone trying to clap at air with one hand. I even tried it myself. Epic fail. But funny nonetheless.

Not to be dissuaded by Zen boss guy, I perused some other You Tube videos on said subject, and I discovered some people really can make a sound of one hand clapping. It was underwhelming, but for the lack of anything else with which to entertain you, please enjoy this next video. I will wait…

You Tube Video number two

The guy in video number two is kind of creepy, am I right?  I fancy myself as a forward-thinking, liberal, change-accepting, Zen kind of girl, but that guy is the stuff of which nightmares are made. Stephen King could write a horrifying story around this video. I would watch it. But still CREEPY.

And yet, I laugh. Again and again. For some reason, this is funny to me. My partner just stares at me every time a commercial comes on TV mentioning one hand clapping (for which I could not find a video. Sorry). I immediately start chuckling and trying to clap with one hand. It never gets old. It is equally funny. Every. Single. Time.

There must be something wrong with me. A chemical imbalance, perhaps. Hormonal issues. Fucked up chakra. I am not worthy!

But I am not sorry, either! No apologies. No regrets. That shit was funny! Oh my gosh, I’m laughing now. There goes the hand!  I tried to make my own one hand slapping video, but my nails are a mess. And I’m camera shy. And I have an arthritic witch’s bump on my knuckle. Too much sharing? Another thing I do uncontrollably.

One-hand slapping has given me hours of happiness and laughter. It’s a thing. Like an ear worm, only without the ear. Or the worm. Just that one hand, and that lonely, fucking hilarious clapping.

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Oh gosh, there I go again. 

Thanks for stopping by.  I think I will research meditating. It’s so peaceful in my head right now. Perhaps I can expound on that and reach new heights of self-awareness. Oh wait, never mind. It’s just nap time.

 

 

Pat Winchester Booth

Today, I am tickled pink. Why? Because I am hosting my very first guest blogger on What’s in Terri’s Head?!!

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Pat Winchester Booth has been an online friend of mine for years, and I have been a fan of her unique blog, Mining towns in Canada, Reminiscing about growing up for just as many years. Pat is brilliant, outspoken, articulate, and witty. She has led an amazing life, with all its ups and downs, and relentlessly pursues and cultivates happiness and knowledge on a daily basis. I am quite in awe of this lovely, talented woman, and am very proud she has graced me with her virtual presence and words.

 

Without further ado, I present Pat Winchester Booth!

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My name is Pat.
I started blogging in 2007.
My site is Mining towns in Canada. Reminiscing about growing up. I wrote about all the towns I lived in. They were company towns, many in isolation and it’s a time gone by. I wanted to leave a record of that unique life style.
It was a voyage of discovery. I understood myself better and what makes me tick. It was cathartic and a nostalgic visit to my family and childhood.
I’ve had over 45,000 readers and have reunited many childhood friends who were able to contact each other through the blog. Central Patricia gold mines and snow lake were popular.
In between, I posted other thoughts and irrelevant musings.

What I am, what I think, what I write is all the “product” of  living in mining towns in Canada.

pagesep2(from September 25, 2014 issue of Mining towns in Canada. Reminiscing about growing up)

When I was much younger I saw a movie called “Auntie Mame”(1955), A character named “Gooch” got pregnant and did all the “pregnant lady” moves: The walk, the duck feet position, hand on hip & bend, moan and groan etc. I promised myself that I would NEVER do that, and when I was pregnant, both times, it came to mind and I was careful of my comportment, shall we say?

Fast forward to old age…I watched elderly people walk across parking lots and in stores and promised myself that I would never walk that way: waddle, duck feet pointing outward, stiff, agonizing movement.

PAT! GET OVER YOURSELF! I know there are many reasons for people of our age to struggle to walk. I always sympathized with all of them, I just didn’t want to BE one of them.

I don’t mind being old. There are lots of perks and the most important one is that I am still alive and well.

I do have my moments of Gooch-likeness”, especially when sitting for more than 15 minutes, then trying to make it across the room elegantly. (Doesn’t work).

This week, we tackled some physical work (up & down 13 steps with lots of bending) The Aleve didn’t relieve it much, and I had a couple of days of waddling, swaying etc. and I thought “this is it now, old age has set in”.

I’m happy to report that I’m back to normal today, and I concede that my normal could be pretty ancient looking to a 19 year old. I really don’t care, and this is one of the perks I referred to above: thinking about such nonsense, and the audacity to say it!

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(From  About “Mining Towns in Canada” Site)

An Experienced Pet Lover

My husband says “If it weren’t for…

  • The chewing
  • The piddling
  • The walking
  • The scooping
  • The barking
  • The snarling
  • The training
  • The feeding
  • The Vet bills
  • The grooming
  • The brushing
  • The shedding
  • The drooling
  • The dog sitting
  • The chasing
  • The fleas
  • …he would get another dog”.

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Thank you, Pat! I appreciate you so very much!

Everyone, please visit Pat’s blog when you have some reading time. You won’t be disappointed! Also, please leave your thoughts and comments below, as I’m sure Pat will enjoy hearing from you!

 

 

 

 

 

Eleven Years and Ten Months

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Yesterday was a sad, heavy-hearted day. Thoughts of Las Vegas and lives lost, the injured, and grieving loved-ones permeated my being, and today that feeling deepens. Relatives and friends have texted or called me saying how glad they were that Joan and I had moved away from Las Vegas. Although I love our new home in Idaho, Las Vegas will always hold memories, both good and not-so-good, and I do not regret moving there all those years ago. My only regret is more a realization that we now live in some scary times. Everywhere.

I moved to Las Vegas from Ohio almost twelve years ago, rolling into the city on September 22nd in 2005. I remember this because September 22nd is also my younger son’s birthday. I made the journey alone, with Joan planning to join me three months later. I took my time, enjoying the drive and the sights, and took three days to get there. It was a wonderful, incident-free road trip of which I will always cherish the many memories made.

When I arrived at Hoover Dam, which is about 45 minutes from Vegas, I pulled over and took a short video to commemorate the occasion. I have turned my computer and The Cloud inside-out and cannot find that video!  This makes me sad because it was an important milestone and I meant to hold on to it. Oh well, things come and go, but if we’re lucky, we still hold those precious memories in our hearts.

So, I suppose you’ll have to take my word for it, but I was excited and giggly and downright giddy about arriving at my new home. I remember it was around 4:30 pm when I reached the outskirts of the city, and rush-hour was quite scary. I almost had an accident before I even reached my new apartment. Then, when I finally did arrive, there was no electricity. Since the temperature was almost 100 degrees, I was unhappy about having no air-conditioning. However, everything worked itself out and within a couple of days, I was fully comfortable in my new place.

Those memories of the early days in Vegas were lovely.  I gambled and won a jackpot. I decorated. I shopped. I traveled to Boise to see my son and grandson. I (half-heartedly) searched for a job, which I found quite easily.  Jobs were plentiful back then, but that changed with the onset of the recession in 2008.

Both my sons and my grandson spent that first Christmas with me, and Joan arrived the day after Christmas. She found a job quickly, as well, and we did very well for a few years, until she had her stroke. That seemed to be a turning point for us. I also lost my job that year and was unable to find suitable employment for quite a while. Joan’s recovery took a long time, and she has had some side-effects that have caused some permanent consequences. She was able to go on disability after a few years, but things were very hard up until then.

I was able to gain employment working from home as a customer service agent, which I hated more than I can say. Vegas life no longer held the allure for us that it had before. When my son and his wife offered to move us up to Idaho, we took a year to prepare and save, I retired, and we moved this past July, after eleven years and ten months in Las Vegas. 

Do I miss Vegas?  Tough question. I miss the early years we lived there, but with Joan’s disability and my mobility issues, life was very hard for us toward the end. Compounding the situation was a violent downstairs neighbor who (we are quite certain) beat his wife and threatened us with frequent loud rants and pounding on the walls, and we felt unsafe. We became depressed. It was time to leave Las Vegas.

Our move was smooth and fun. My son and his wife drove their truck with an attached trailer containing our stuff, and Joan and I rode in our car.  We took two days to drive and very much enjoyed the sights and scenery on our way to Idaho. The rest of the summer has been spent happily settling into our new home.

I do miss the few friends I made in Las Vegas, but thanks to the magic of social media, we can stay in touch.

This post is to honor those victims, families, first-responders, and residents of Las Vegas. I am proud to hear of how Las Vegas has rallied around those who have lost and who are suffering. I lived there long enough to know of the resilience and compassion of Las Vegas natives, and never expected any less than the amazing response they have given during this saddest of times.