Losing Blog Subscribers, Teaching Classes and Chronically Tardy People

I don't know how your week went but mine flew by. It seems like the older I get the faster my days disappear and often I can't remember from one to another what I did with my time beyond the routines of an ordinary life---bathing, eating, checking the mail room and email, watching the news, a Netflix mini binge, etc. Some people think that elderly people take more time to do less stuff and I can see why they think that. Just getting dressed, for example. There are drops and creams to apply, hearing aids to put in and in some cases, compression socks to put on. Then there are prescriptions and supplements to remember. And dare I say sometimes I have to decide if it's an anti-diarrhea pill day or a stool softener day. Too much information? Okay, let's move on.

This past week a lot of my time was taken up with preparing for and teaching my second in a three part series on how to play Mahjong. I have a good group of students this year but it started out crazy. The sign-up sheet limited the class to six students plus a waiting list. Before retirement, two who signed up were college professors, one was a high school principal, another was a high school teacher and one had traveled the world as an engineer in the gas & oil industry.

The sixth person who signed up had also been a teacher, in a small town in Northern Michigan, and I was hoping she wouldn't show up. And she didn't. She always come for dinner reservations fifteen minute late and she's the last one to walk into a lecture or party. A lot of people cut her slack and blame it on age but like my husband did, she comes from a farm community so I don't think it has anything to do with her age. Her tardiness gives me flashbacks to my husband who was notorious for being late. I even have a grade school report card of his where the teacher noted Don's frequent tardiness. I called it being on farm time because he had chores to do before school. Those cows wouldn't milk themselves. His youth set up a life long habit of him always running late. Finishing your chores aka work always trumped being on time.

I've told this story 12 years ago so if you've been reading my blog for that long you might want to skip this paragraph. One time we got invited to a family reunion and my mom didn’t want us to show up late so when she passed the invitation on to me she set the time back an hour, telling me it started at 1:00 instead of 2:00. I knew it was important to my mom for us to be on time for this event so when I told Don what time it started I told him 12:00 thinking we’d then get there by 1:00. Don in turn said something like, “This time we’re not showing up late and embarrass your mother!” so he wrote down 11:00 in his day planner. Months later when the reunion day rolled around all these ‘time swaps’ were forgotten, but wouldn’t you know it’s the one time out of a hundred when Don was determined to be on time and we showed up for the reunion at 11:00. Of course, no one else was at the park three hours early. No tables were lined up for an event of that size. So we called my mom thinking we had gone to the wrong park and that’s when it came out all three of us had backed the start time up by an hour. We had a good laugh but that wasn’t the end of the story. We had three hours to kill before the reunion began so Don wanted to run a few errands. I should have known he couldn’t go anywhere without running into someone to swap long-winded stories with and if you haven’t guess by now, we ended up being late to the reunion.

As it turned out Farm Time Fay didn't show up at all for my 1:30 class even though at lunch someone reminded her that she was due upstairs in an hour. She has guardian angels who try to keep her on track like they're border collies herding stock where they need to go. Always calling her when she due some place and isn't showing up. I'm not one of them. Forty-two years of dealing with someone who was chronically late was enough for me. But her not showing up was not fair to the person on the wait list who could have come had we known Farm Time Fay decided to stay in the dining room for a cooking demonstration instead.

My students told me that I'm a good teacher. It might sound like I'm bragging but I agree. I've study the game and broke it down into understandable blocks, I write comprehensive handouts and have the patience of Job. When we mix this year's newbies in with our seasoned players we'll have eighteen. I manage the group, send out text messages the day before to get a count on how many are NOT playing---usually one to three. I set up the game sets and have the players draw chips to assign random seating. I keep track of the weekly winners and I'm the go-to person for rules. And I have several mahjong shirts to wear on game days, like those around here who follow sports teams wear their favorite team's gear. At a lunch table they often bore me to death talking about the latest game and once in awhile I'll bore them with the latest thing I learned about the history of mahjong. It's a fair trade.

New topic: the last time I wrote about 45/47 I lost a noticeably number of subscribers, so I'm thinking I should quit or drastically cut down on writing about the psychopathic elephant stumping around in the White House. But I'm torn because as tempting as it is to ignore what is going on, the unchecked power trip he's on is setting us up for a dystopia at the worst and a dictatorship at its best. The breakdown of the Rule of Law is always the first step and it was a giant first step when 45/47 rebranded the 1,500 January 6th insurrectionists as political prisoners. 1,500 juries and 1,500 judges from across the county put them in prison but in one stroke of a pen 45/47 created himself an unrepentant, private army of 'Brown Shirts' ready to do his bidding to intimidate judges, lawmakers, witnesses, etc. It's a page taken right out of Hitler's playbook. And that should scare us all. ©