If I was a billionaire, I’d give everyone a chance to get thunderous applause from a stadium packed with fans. I’d make a list of people that I met who were particularly helpful, friendly, and just generally nice. I’d also take letters nominating people as particularly helpful, friendly, and just generally nice.

Then, each month I’d rent out a large stadium and invite or hire thousands — tens of thousands — of people to attend. I’d hire a grand host who would read the name of each “helpful, friendly, and just generally nice” person to introduce them to the assembled crowd.

The named person then would walk out onto the stage (alone or with moral support) and get incredible, personal, and wonderful applause for 30 seconds. Everyone should be able to stand on a stage and see throngs of people looking up at them, clapping, cheering, whistling, and loving them.

Everyone should get the chance to have that feeling of glory, that sensation of pure approval, even if only for half a minute. Such moments shouldn’t be reserved just for persons with some entertainment talent.

The honored person would then step off the stage to make way for the next person. There would, of course, be a commemorative photo, video, and plaque for each person, so they can see their face at the moment of applause.

Then at the end of the list of people to be introduced and applauded, I’d pick one random person from the audience — someone who voluntarily came to cheer, not someone who was hired to show up — to walk out on stage and get the last cheer of the night. I believe that someone who gives of their own time to enthusiastically support a stranger in this way deserves a chance to get the same adulation, themselves.

Bullgrit

Today’s post is by Cowgrit.
_________________________

I used to work in a pediatric office as a nurse. This was before I had kids. It was quite a learning experience for me. I learned about growth, development, and disease. But most of all, I learned kids say whatever is on their minds. No filters! And they say the funniest things. And so do their parents.

Here are some examples:

I asked a little girl about 3 years old to take off her shoes while we weigh her. She asked her mom, “Mommy, what are they going to do with my shoes?”

I asked a 7-year-old and his mom what his symptoms were (why where they coming to the doctor). The boy said, “I’m allergic to school.”

A pregnant mom came in with her 4 year old for his checkup. She was showing him an ultrasound of him as a baby. She said “Look, here is a picture of you as a little baby, Preston!” He said, ”That’s Preston in a spaceship!”

I took a mom and her 3 young children back to an examination room. The mom asked me “Are we going to see a boy or girl doctor?” She laughed at herself, then exclaimed, “I need to get out more; I am around these young kids too much. Are we going to see a women or man doctor?”

I took a teenage boy and his mom to an examination room. The teenager was here for a checkup. I told the young man to get undressed and put the drape over himself. The teenager told his mom to leave the room. As she was leaving she paused as she had a second thought. She poked her head back into the room and said, “You did wear clean underwear?”

A 3-year-old boy said, “I came here as a baby, and they fixed me.” His mom said, “Yes, you were a baby, now what are you?” He said, “I am Trevor!”

Cowgrit

I’m regularly up in the evenings till 10:00, sometimes till midnight. Monday night I was at work till after 1:00 a.m. That’s 17 straight hours of work. Then four hours of sleep, and right back to the office.

Granted, my work is not physical, but still, work is work — it ain’t play. Staying up till midnight writing on my Web site, watching a movie, or playing a game is nothing like actually working passed midnight.

At work Monday night, by 8 p.m. I was already feeling that, “Good lord, but it’s late” tiredness that I don’t get at 8 p.m. at home. By 11 p.m. at the office, my mind and body had that trembly feeling. You know, that sensation of quivering even though you aren’t actually, really shaking.

By 1 a.m., I was just ridiculously out of it. My mind was in slow gear, and my vision had that haze that makes everything seem surreal. I got home at almost 2:00, and was in bed asleep by 2:15.

Calfgrit4 came out of the boys’ room 6:00 a.m., 4 hours later, and I got on up and went to the shower. I was back at work by 8:00.

Now, as I’m writing this post, it’s coming up on 9:00 Tuesday — 4 hours of sleep in 39 hours. That little core tremble is back, everything outside my head seems to be moving in fast forward mode, and the air has that screen of haze that makes everything seem unreal, dream-like.

It’s an interesting feeling, actually, this extreme lack of sleep. I don’t get in this situation often (especially not usually because of work), so it’s kind of neat to just sit and experience it for a while. It’s hard to believe I used to could live and work and learn in this condition. A body and mind loses a lot of lifestyle elasticity by 41 years old. At 21, I could game all night and then go to class and got to work without the strung out feeling I now get from just one night’s missed sleep.

But now that I sit here and think about it, I realize there’s a big difference between life then and now: family. Then I could easily make up the lost sleep by just zonking out any ol’ time — right after work, between classes, 11:00 in the morning, 3:00 in the afternoon, etc. I really don’t have that option and luxury now.

I really need to stop writing right now and just go to bed. I have to catch up on this missed sleep somehow — it might take me a week to make up the lost hours.

Bullgrit

The Weather Channel and our local weather forecasters announce the potential for our area getting snow probably three to six times a winter. Half the time, the result is either just a flurry that passes without leaving anything to note, or nothing at all. But the other half of the time we actually get something.

When Cowgrit told me, Saturday, that the weather forecasters were calling for snow on Monday morning, I dismissed it. The temperature Saturday was 57 degrees. The temperature Friday was 72 degrees. Monday would be March 2nd, and March means winter is pretty much over and done with in the South.

Sunday, Cowgrit started telling our boys that we might get snow over night. I thought it was cruel to get them worked up with hopes of snow. Sure, the temperature Sunday had plunged to 38 degrees (34 less than two days earlier), and it was raining, but it’s March.

But then when we woke up Monday morning, there was a thick carpet of snow on the ground. Well I’ll be darned. Our second snow of the season.

Fortunately, the pavement and ground was still wet from the rain over the weekend, so what white stuff that hit the roads just turned to slush. There wasn’t much ice, either. I was able to brush the snow off my car with my gloved hands.

My drive to work wasn’t nearly as dramatic as the last snow we had. This time the roads were pretty clear of any ice or snow. The trees and grass were well coated and pretty, but the pavement was clear. By the time I drove home last night, there was still some snow on the trees and grass.

I’m tired of winter. I’m tired of having to wear a coat. And two snows in one season is quite plenty. It’s March, now, let’s get on with spring.

Bullgrit