Depression is all in the mind...

I think we have just moved way too far up Maslow's Heirarchy and have way, way too much time on our hands. All of a sudden we get to lookin' round and we're sitting up there on that pinnacle and we're bored. Or we have more stuff than we need and we've reached those goals or just quit bothering to set them and we get to thinking we're depressed. Some of us are brung up thinking we've got to have more, more, more and we can never live up to those expectations that are slammed in our face every time we open a magazine or turn on the boob-tube. We get depressed 'cause we're never going to get there.

It's all just a bunch of hullabaloo. I think the drug companies like to make us think we just gotta be happy all the time. Well durn it, life has ups and downs. We can't always walk around with a big ol' smile plastered on our face and be happy. It just ain't life.

These people in this country want to know what's depressing they oughta go live in Africa or some other country for a while and they'll figure out real quick what depression is all about.

We get depressed if we don't have two tv's and three cars.

I figured out a long long time ago that I could walk through life feeling poor me-like or I could decide to be happy. Being depressed is darned addictive. It's great to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. Especially if you get in one of those groups that helps you, or so they say. You sit around telling each other how bad you feel and pretty soon you get to enjoyin' feeling that bad and you don't even realize it.

When I was young and I'd start getting down in the mouth and feeling bored and pitiful my Mama would hand me a broom and tell me to go sweep the back porch. I think we need to get these depressed people to find something to do to help somebody else and they'll start to feeling pretty good about their own situation. Go down to the homeless shelter and help feed people once a week for about six months and you'll find out just how happy you can be.

Guess what gals? I'm back! I've missed you all but I sure haven't been depressed for one single day.

Miss Faye

D is for

Hey Girls,

I've been taking a little Vulcation (like my newly-minted word?) this
morning: been cruising the internet reading blogs written by other
gals (so much so I have a cramp in my right elbow), and I notice 2
things:

1. These gals are GOOD wordslingers.
2. These gals are depressed.

Now let me just stop right here and say for the record: it's not just
females who are depressed. There seems to be a veritable epidemic of
depression these days. Seems like everybody I know or am related to or
both is at least a little on the D side of things. Used to be that
being depressed was something you and yours kept quiet, like it was
something to be embarrassed about, something to be ashamed of. That's
not the case now - THANK GOODNESS - and maybe that openness, that
willingness to talk about it will help answer me this: why is it
depression seems to be running absolutely rampant these days? I, being
who I am, want to know WHY. Why so many wonderful, talented, creative,
intelligent, genuinely good people are depressed - not just blue or
sad or down but flat-out depressed.

Is it something physical like we're not getting enough exercise?

Or is it something psychological like we don't have effective coping
skills or maybe we have unreasonable expectations?

Or is it something physiological like our bodies are squirting out too
much of one juice (hormones, neuropeptides, etc.) and/or not enough of
another?

Or (and you both KNEW I'd get to this, didn't you? Go ahead: admit
it.) is it something They put in our parents' drinking water? Or
something They loaded into those free cigarettes? Or something They
put on the fruit pieces used to mess up perfectly good lunchroom Jell-o?

Girlfriends, if we don't do something about whatever causes
depression, pretty soon those who are not depressed (be that of
natural causes or sheer, unadulterated determination) will be the ones
getting the diagnosis and subsequent pills.

I'm just saying.

Miz Vul

Buried and Forgotten??

Lawdy Miss Etta,

Remember me? Why, I used to come and sit on your porch for our daily talks. I just loved them so. And, I do remember the fine punch you would serve.

Guess you thought I was dead. Dead and buried. Well, I am still kicking, but I have been buried. I'm spending most of my mornings try to dig my way out of all the mail that my good neighbor has been sending. How many good neighbors are there around here? Way too many, I think. And don't they know that filling my mailbox with the same letter from several of them a day is the best way to make sure I don't spend any of my precious coins at their doorstep?

Of course, I have to wonder if you have been getting all those letters?

Hope to hear from you soon,
Georgia gal

Days of Celebration

My. oh my, Miss Faye. You really had me going there. I was convinced something bad had happened to you, otherwise you would never, ever leave me sitting here all alone on the porch. Yep, and rehab sure enough would do it. Who could ever take away my special julep juice? Who would ever try?

It's the first day of summer and I'm in love. Yep, you heard me. I'm in love with the cool morning air that's been my companion for the last couple of mornings. Summer is here, let the celebrations begin!

Did you know that yesterday was National Martini Day? Now, I've never ascribed to martinis, although I did like to hear Dean sing while holding his martini. Somebody recently told me he was from some small town in Pennsylvania and they remembered seeing him perform-- before he got famous and all.

Martini Day? What about Julep Day? Don't we need to start campaigning for one?

You gals been following all the campaign news lately? Fascinating, I say. And as soon as I remember what I was gonna say, I will. In the meantime, best go refill my juice glass.

Enjoy the summer sun, my friends.

Miss Etta

Finally out of rehab...

Well, one too many mint juleps and they toss you in the loony bin and try to dry a bodies bourbon soaked body right out. I promise it had nothing to do with my actions sans julep. Can you believe they actually thought my crazy antics had something to do with all the juleps I'd been sipping? Ha. Little did they know. The only thing that keeps me sane is the time on the porch with you ladies. I am SO glad to be out and in the land of the ladies. I absolutely could not wait to get back out here on the porch with you lovely ladies to commiserate and, of course, have another darned mint julep.

Not really. Just thought I'd come up with a creative reason for not writing for so long. You should know me well enough by now to know that I am always restrained and lady-like and would never let me mint julep sipping get out of hand. Yes, I am pulling your leg again. A little imp has taken hold of my nature of late and I just can't seem to settle down and be proper.

I read a book a long time ago that I believe was titled "When I am old I shall wear purple". I have to confess all I did was skim though it but I loved the idea in the poem of the same title. It's all about doing whatever you want when you get older. You can be a batty old woman and wear purple and red (I suppose the red-hat ladies are somehow connected with that poem now that I think about the colors). I've lived that philosophy all of my life. As I get older mayhaps I'll start to wear sober colors just to be different.

The Red Hat ladies (I do believe it should be capitalized) have so much fun. It has really taken off as a club or organization, I'm not sure what category it should fall into. I think we should form our own mint-julep group. It seems everyone is banding together in some sort of fellowship these days. I wonder if the need to be part of a group has something to do with the way society has changed and is continuing to change? It used to be that everyone knew everyone. People grew up being part of a group in most cases. As time has gone on and we have families scattered all over the country, people moving and losing connections, cultures intermingling, the north and the south co-mixing to the point where it's hard to find a good southern accent any more and I could go on and on with examples of how we are losing those old ties that bind. Now we create groups and bind.

It's hard to say whether the changes that are happening in our society are good or bad. There is a mix I think of good, bad and potentially bad. We seem to be able to adapt to the changes, hence the need to join a group to replace those bonds that seem to be part of human nature. I suppose I could go on speculating about what is going on in our world for eons. Only time will tell whether it's good or bad. Jimmy Buffet has a line in one of his songs that is somewhat similar to that last line.

I had to take a short break and go find the song I just referred to by Mr. Buffet. I will leave you with the lyrics and I will leave you wondering where I have been for so many long days. I have run out of time to write and will have to leave you in suspense.

Scales and clocks just can't be trusted
Keys and locks are destined to be busted
Metaphors were never made for keeping score
And I'm feeling for the sound of time

hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo

Is it the answer or just a suggestion
Is love what we truly want or merely a protection
Is this music made to last or crumble like a shell
Is there heaven here on earth or is this really hell

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo
hoo hoo hoo hoo

Are we destined to be ruled by a bunch of old white men
Who compare the world to football and are programmed to defend
I'd like to try a princess or a non-terrestrial
Who is neither boast nor bashful is there really such a girl

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

I woke up this morning feeling absolutely grand
For nearly half a century I've been singing in a band
I'd like to think I'll make it to two thousand and one
Will the party be at my house God I wonder who will come

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense on this crazy carousel
Only time will tell

(I left out the last bunch of hoo hoo's. Hoo cares unless you're going to sing the song, then you can figure it out yourself that more hoo hoos are needed).

Miss Faye
ta da!

Red, White and Blue Fits

Didcha enjoy the big holiday yesterday? Didcha remember to honor our fallen soldiers? Didcha shed a few tears? I certainly did.

Why, that ceremony in Peachtree City alone was enough to set me bawling for the whole day. I had to use up all of my white tissues in the hopes my cries were stifled somewhat. I just always seem to find my heart up in my throat in these affairs. I guess it's because I mourn the loss of them all. I guess I just love America so darn much.

Well, that started off the day. I ended up by having some "blue with my red." Yep, nothing finer on a gorgeous day than a nice thick juicy red slab of meat done up on the grill. Add some homemade blue cheese butter and, yummy! The blue cheese just makes the beef taste explode into a mouthful of savory delights.

And, of course, what would a celebration be without my own julep juice? I spent hours getting my julep syrup prepared with just the right amount of sugar. It was pretty good, even if I do say so myself.

Now that the summer is officially here, I expect to hear from my friends. Kinda odd isn't it? Memorial Day starts the summer season even though the calendar doesn't start it until later in June. I think I'll take the Memorial Day start and then end it when the calendar does in late September. I'd much rather have a long summer!

Miss Etta

Off To The Races

Hey friends,

Sorry I've been quiet. I've been off to the races.

Races for time. Races to leisure. Just racing around in circles....

Ya'll have a great Memorial Day Weekend. I saw on the Fayette Front Page the prayer offered by President Bush for this very special day in history. You should check it out.

Look for me on Monday while I'm honoring my family heroes and those of America!

Miss Etta

Life Will Go On, My Friend

Oh Miz Vul,

I am so deeply saddened to hear a friend was a victim of pain. It is
horrible and it just breaks my heart.

I remember a young girl who was also attacked about 40 years ago.
Some said it was because she wore white go-go boots. Some said it
was because she strayed too far from home. Some tried to ignore it.
Some thought she'd just forget about it. Don't think so.

Well, I am here to tell you that it wasn't because of the white go-go
boots. It wasn't because she strayed too far from home. Nope, the
reality was she was riding her bicycle on a hot summer day. The
reality was she was the victim of some young tough's need to
dominate. The reality was she survived. The reality was the young
tough was caught. The reality was it WAS NOT HER FAULT!

I still don't know what happened to the young tough. The last I saw
him was in the back seat of the police car. 'Nuff said.

Surround your friend with love and understanding. Surround her with
hope for the future.

Packing Claxtons

Miss Etta, I HAVE been having a thoughtful day. Been having a string
of them, actually . . .

Somebody I love deeply was recently the victim of a crime. Let's be
real clear about this: a crime was committed against HER. And while
she struggles still to move forward and eventually leave it behind
her, there are these two local women who insist on, as my Daddy used
to say, kicking her while she's down.

Can somebody please explain to me why that is? Why is it that when a
woman is the victim of a crime, some folks insist on making her the
CRIMINAL, too?

I was talking to Janet Dunn the other day, you know, the editor of
FayetteFrontPage.com, and she said that more people subscribe to the
helping hands blog than any other blog. Now that's good: people are
wanting to help other people, and lord knows there are plenty of folks
needing help these days.

It's good to share food and clothes and household items with those in
need. It's fantastic to help folks put together a resume and find a
good job. But what about helping individual people you run into while
you're out and about? What about folks you know who might be in need
of something as seemingly simple as kindness - maybe a hug the next
time you see them, maybe a quick email to say thinking about you,
maybe just a genuine heartfelt smile? Random acts of kindness are
fantastic, and I encourage them, but let's don't ever, ever, ever lose
sight of DELIBERATE acts of kindness Let's never forget that some
folks, maybe even most folks we see on any given day are carrying
around some kind of emotional need.

I tell you what: I think when a woman is the victim of a crime, we
ought to hold hands, form a large circle around her and say to no-
gooders "How DARE you." and "Don't even think about bothering her
right now." and to her: "Sugar, is there anything I can do?" and "Can
I get you anything?" Maybe even take her to get her hair and nails
done 'cause we all know that makes a girl feel so much better.

Yes, I think we ought to do things like that, NOT take potshots at HER
and throw rocks at HER. So what if an attractive young woman was in a
restaurant/bar? So what if she was wearing a sun dress (not a halter
dress, a sundress)? So what if she was wearing black patent leather
pumps? So what if she has long blonde hair? So what if she is drop
dead gorgeous? Does that make the crime HER fault? Don't women (and
men, too, but I'm talking about women right now) have the right to be
safe when they go out? Don't they have the right to go to a public
place to socialize with friends? Don't they have a right to wear black
patent leather pumps and lipstick?

Woman's inhumanity to woman . . . where does that come from?

If I live to be 1128-and-a-half years old, I will NEVER understand
this, fellow julep-sippers. It's a language I have never and will
never, by golly, become fluent in, this women spitting and slapping
and backbiting and hissing at other women.

What ever happened to EMPATHY?

I have tried to be philosophical about this, girls. Really I have. I
understand that people like to find meaning in everything (though I
surely can't see how re-victimizing the victim finds meaning in a damn
thing), and I know that thinking is a dying art (don't even get me
started - another subject for another day, girls). I know that black
and white type stuff is preferable cause it's so much easier to think
about and move on, but really: how much of life is that simple? Gray
is a color near and dear to my Southern, Confederate heart, and let's
face it: most of life is lived in the gray. Gray is, in my never-to-be-
persuaded-otherwise opinion, a wonderful, delicious, rich color that's
filled with possibilities and room to think and be individuals.

You know, my mother had this sister who gave Claxton fruitcakes as
Christmas gifts every single year. She'd drive on down to Claxton and
fill up the back of her car during the After-Christmas Claxton
Fruitcake Sale. Then she'd bring them babies home and load up her
freezer with them. In her mind, it was perfect: she saved money,
finished her shopping way early, and she never once forgot where she
stashed the bought-early gifts. (Personally, I always wondered if her
husband - the DENTIST - didn't pay for them out of his marketing
account, thereby saving/making even more money. Did you ever bite into
a year-old frozen Claxton fruicake???)

Now, Miss Etta, I know you mentioned Claxton fruitcakes a week or so
ago, and I mean no disrespect when I tell you that over the past
several weeks, I have fantasized more times than I can count about
hurling some of those year-old, frozen Claxton fruitcakes at a couple
of local womenfolk in hopes of knocking some sense in their heads.

If only I were licensed to carry Claxtons.

But I'm not, so I'm going on back to the front porch to swing and sip
something a wee bit (okay, a pretty good bit) (okay, a LOT) stronger
than a julep. Helps me think.

Miz Vul

Morning Reflections and Observations

It's been real quiet on my porch lately. Guess I'm alright with the solitude as it has given me time to reflect and observe. This morning while I was sitting on the porch drinking my daily dose of caffeine and wondering about what to do for the day, my eyes were suddenly drawn to a duel.

It's the kind of duel where we mothers shudder our shoulders when we see it. A little baby was abducted. Now, before you go running to the phone to put out an all points bulletin-- wait to see what I have to say.

The commotion all started when the young mother took off for her morning work-- providing breakfast for her babies. They were all squalling up a storm, when all of a sudden-- a big swoop dove in. Yep, a red tailed hawk who lives back behind my house was also looking for his breakfast and spotted it.

He swooped right in and started tugging the little baby bird right out of the nest. He was pulling and the other babies were really crying at this point. It got the mama's attention. She comes flying in a very quick speed. Why, it was probably faster than Superman could have done it.

The hawk, with his breakfast secured in his claws, takes off. The mama bird chases him. She is yelling and saying all kinds of bad things about that intruder. Alas, she returned back to her nest empty clawed. No baby rescued.

Will she mourn the little tyke who had not had time to spread his little wings and fly? Will she stay closer to home to protect the others who are still in her nest? Now, I ponder while I finish the morning coffee.

Nature is fascinating to observe. Guess that is what I'll do today. What else will I see while I wait for my friends to show up?

Have a thoughtful day.

Miss Etta