Members Login
Username 
 
Password 
    Remember Me  
Post Info TOPIC: RELATIONSHIP COLUMNS


1st Moderator

Status: Offline
Posts: 2787
Date:
RE: RELATIONSHIP COLUMNS


WE OWE A LOT TO OUR PARENTS

On Mother's Day and Father's Day, we send
our parents cards and flowers and gifts. We
tell them we appreciate them, we tell them
we love them. Then we spend the rest of the
year trying to avoid them.

Well, some of us try harder than others.

According to two recent polls, 36% of elderly
parents say their grown children have failed
to help them in a time of need in the past five
years.

And that doesn't even include all those
parents who can't remember. Perhaps poor
memory is a good thing. If I'm ever an aging
parent, I want to remember my children as
the most loving and caring people. And if
they're not, I want to forget.

But the only thing I'll probably forget is to put
them in my will.

Let's face it: Parents can be a pain at times.
They expect so much out of you. Do this, do
that, eat this, eat that, marry this, marry that.
There's no satisfying them.

But you have to overlook your entire
childhood to turn your back on your parents.
There are so many reasons to be grateful to
them. Here are just a few:

---They didn't abort you. Yes, some of them
easily could have, but they chose to accept
at least 18 years of responsibility. Sure, you
brought them lots of joy, but you also brought
them lots of migraines. Thanks to you, they
had to invest more money in aspirin than in
the stock market.

---They changed your diaper about 2,750
times. You may have many talents today, but
for the first years of your life, your only talent
was soiling a diaper. Soon after that, you
developed another talent: wetting the bed.
You were so good at that, they thought you'd
do it for the rest of your life.

---They forced you to do your homework. You
preferred to watch cartoons on television, but
they knew you couldn't make a career out of
that. Unless you ended up on welfare. They
encouraged you to earn good grades and
graduate from school. They didn't want you
to sell drugs for a living, without going to
pharmacy school.

---They lost so much sleep worrying about you,
they haven't yet caught up. That's why they
have to go to bed at 7 p.m. They'd have to
sleep continuously for five years to make up
for your puberty alone.


---They spent a small fortune on you. Without
you, they could have vacationed every year in
the Bahamas and bought a sports car --
instead of that totally uncool station wagon.
And they could have bought lots of fancy
appliances and furniture, items that are
guaranteed to never talk back or ask for
allowances.

---They were so proud of you. Why do you
think they took one billion photos of you? You
weren't that cute. They even snapped shots
of you taking a bath, as though that was some
big achievement. When you took your first
step, they acted like you had walked on the
moon. They wanted to tell everybody, even the
mail carrier. When you spoke your first word,
they wanted to put an announcement in the
newspaper. They wanted to call CNN.

Consider yourself lucky if you have two parents
or even just one. You can't replace a parent.
You can't go to the store and buy one, even if
you're as loaded as Bill Gates.

Parents aren't perfect, but chances are, no one
will ever love you the same way.

Especially if you act the way you did.

__________________


1st Moderator

Status: Offline
Posts: 2787
Date:

CAN'T STOP FIGHTING OVER BABY NAMES

My wife and I have spent several weeks discussing
names for our baby and we've finally agreed on something: We
hate each other's choices.

At this rate, giving birth to the baby will be a lot easier
than naming it. Only one person gives birth (thank
goodness!), whereas, in some families, naming a baby can
involve as many as 50, with suggestions pouring in from
parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, co-workers, and
even the idiot next door. The one who named his daughters
Mandy and Sandy, and his sons Andy, Randy and Handy. If he
has a fourth son, he's already thought of a good name:
Gandhi.

Luckily for us, no one else is suggesting names. But there
are certainly enough names being tossed around. I never
realized that name-selecting could produce so much
name-calling. I don't know how many times I've had to defend
my honor: "Hey! My name is Shashi. It starts with an 'S' and
ends with an 'i' but I wish you'd stop confusing it with
SHUSHI."

If we don't decide on a name soon, we'll be forced to follow
the tradition of some cultures: naming the baby after the
loudest sound the mother makes in labor. How else do you
think Oprah got her name?

Among my wife's favorite names for girls is Tarangini, an
Indian name. She considers it rather melodious, I consider
it just odious. Tarangini. We might as well name the baby
Tarantula. That sounds a lot better.

If your name happens to be Tarangini, please don't get angry
with me. Get angry with your parents. They're the ones who
named you.

Perhaps they weren't thinking straight. I'm not suggesting
they were drinking, but that could explain why the word
"gin" appears in your name.

Among my wife's favorite names for boys is Kashyap, another
Indian name that's almost as melodious as Tarangini. I can't
help imagining the teasing he'd get at an American school
cafeteria: "Hey, Kashyap! Please pass the ketchup." Not to
mention the ribbing during running competitions: "Hey,
Kashyap! Please catch up!"

My wife  has a theory why her "unenlightened" husband can't
appreciate these beautiful names -- he didn't grow up
reading literature in Tamil, Sanskrit and Bengali. "Just
because you didn't learn to appreciate sounds in these
languages doesn't mean these names aren't beautiful to the
ears." She makes a good point. Now all she needs is a good
name.

She believes that her favorite names may one day become
universal, just as Indian names are gracing westerners such
as Canadian humorist Chandra Clarke and Hollywood actress
Uma Thurman. My wife may be right, but I'll be absolutely
stunned the day I meet a non-Indian named Tarangini.

Of course, I have no right to make fun of names, because my
name is not only old-fashioned, it doesn't reflect my rich
Indian heritage. But it's too late to change my name. I've
been a Shashi for so many years, I don't want to suddenly
turn into a Shashikant or Shashikumar.

My wife has convinced me that it's important to give our
baby an Indian name. Though she likes some western names
such as Olivia, she says, "I don't believe it's our role to
propagate them." As far as I'm concerned, if we end up
naming our baby Tarangini, we'll be done propagating!


__________________


1st Moderator

Status: Offline
Posts: 2787
Date:

DRIVING A STICK SHIFT ISN'T AUTOMATIC

I tried to warn her. I tried to tell my wife,  that
learning to drive a stick shift is much harder than an
automatic, but did she listen? Nope, she was too busy
drooling over the burgundy Subaru Legacy wagon in a dealer's
lot, convinced that THIS was the car for her, never mind
that it had an extra pedal and a gear stick that went in
more directions than Don King's hair.

"Why is it called a manual transmission?" she asked, and I
tried to think of a simple but effective explanation:
"Because every time you drive this car, you'll have to
consult the manual. Now what do you say we look for an
automatic?"

The salesman was no help. He told my wife that he once
taught a female customer to drive a stick shift in 10
minutes. Ten minutes? That's how long it took my wife to
realize she'd have to use both feet.

The salesman, of course, would have said just about anything
to get my wife to buy the car. Considering it had power
locks and windows, I'm surprised he didn't call it a
semiautomatic. That would have given me a great way to get
rid of telemarketers: "If you don't stop calling me at home,
I'm going to send my wife over there with her semiautomatic.
It's got four cylinders!"

I tried to tell my wife that it might take weeks, even
months, for her to drive the car smoothly. "Stick shifts
aren't easy," I said. But she had seen me handle a stick
shift -- I've never owned an automatic -- and she thought,
"If clumsy can do it, why can't I?"

She was soon signing the purchase agreement, beaming from
ear to ear, almost as thrilled as the salesman. And so began
one of the most frustrating periods of her life, as she
attempted, bravely, to tame the stick-shift monster. "Go!
Go! Go!" she would yell, as the car jerked and shook and
stalled, unable to grasp such simple instructions. I tried
to help, of course: "It's a Japanese car. What's the
Japanese word for 'go'?"

Growing weary of my snide remarks, she tried to hire a
professional instructor, but couldn't find one who taught
stick shift. She was stuck with me -- in a way that even
those wedding vows couldn't have prepared her. I was ready
to answer all her questions, even if I had to be blunt.

Wife: "Why is the car making that awful grinding noise?
Did I forget to do something?"

Me: "Yes. Clutch! Clutch! Clutch!"

Wife (gripping steering wheel tightly): "I'm clutching!
I'm clutching."

Actually, she wasn't quite that bad. I'm proud to say that
my wife improved steadily, day by day, and in just two
weeks, with a smile on her face, she was ready to try second
gear.

It wasn't long before she was cruising down the road,
switching gears with ease, wondering why her husband had
made such a fuss. Then the inevitable happened: She spotted
something red in the distance and said, "Oh no, it's a stop
sign. How do I stop this thing?"

I had to remind her that stick shifts, just like automatic
cars, are equipped with brakes, saving her the trouble
of sticking her left foot out. But what she really wanted to
know was which gear to stop in. She didn't care for my
answer: "Any gear, dear. Just make sure you stop."

__________________


1st Moderator

Status: Offline
Posts: 2787
Date:

MEN CAN'T WIN CONTESTS WITH  WOMEN

I've never been a big boxing fan, but
Saturday night's battle of the sexes in
Seattle caught my attention. It's not every
day you get to see a man and woman
duking it out. Most have the common
decency to limit such behavior to their
homes.

Of course, fights at home are almost
always unfair and terrible. Unlike
professional boxing, there are no rules or
referees to make sure the fighters don't do
something utterly crazy, like biting off an
opponent's ear. And there are no
promoters to make sure the fights are fixed.


The Seattle bout, pitting Margaret
McGregor against Loi Chow, was the first
time a woman had fought a man
professionally and certainly required a lot
of courage. Indeed, few people in the world
are as brave as this man.

For a mere $1,500, Chow was willing to
put his entire manhood on the line. And
thanks to his courage, he now has the
distinction of being the first male boxer --
perhaps in the history of the world -- to have
his butt thoroughly whipped by a woman.

Poor guy didn't know what hit him. He spent
much of the fight protecting himself from
McGregor's relentless pounding. I don't
know what he was thinking, but it was
probably something like this: "Mommy!
She's killing me!"

He may have to spend the rest of his life
with a new nickname: "Puppy," as in Loi
"Puppy" Chow.

He should have known that challenging a
woman is a big risk. If you win, people say,
"Big deal! She's a woman." If you lose,
people say, "Big wimp! She's a woman."

I know this from experience. Two years
ago, a female co-worker challenged me to
an American Gladiators-style jousting
match, in which the opponents try to knock
each other off a pedestal. I was crazy
enough to accept the challenge. I had
everything to lose and nothing to gain,
besides a massive headache.

But I was eager to finally knock a woman
off her pedestal. Maybe she would think
twice about challenging a man again.

I knocked her off twice and jumped into the
lead. But she knocked me off thrice and
won. I had no excuses. She wasn't bigger
than me and, as far as I could tell, she
wasn't on steroids.

I felt like I had disappointed the entire male
population. Let's face it, men have always
felt superior to women. But women are
gradually proving them wrong, succeeding
in many fields. However, men still feel
superior in one field: sports. And as a
proud man, I have just one thing to say to
all you women who believe you're going to
eventually take that away from us: "Please
don't do it! It's the only thing we have left!"

I'm not kidding. I've watched female
athletes and many of them scare me. Take
Fatuma Roba of Ethiopia, the reigning
Olympic champion in the marathon. If I
joined one of her races at the 25-mile mark
and challenged her for the final mile, the
only way I'd keep up with her is with a
telescope.

Believe me, female athletes are eager to
prove they can beat men. Serena Williams,
the U.S. Open tennis champion, tried to
enter a men's tournament in Germany, but
fortunately for all those men, she was
denied. Serena can hit a ball harder than
John McEnroe. And she can throw a racket
farther than him, too.

I wouldn't challenge Serena in any sport.
I've seen her muscles. Call me a wimp. Just
don't call me stupid.


__________________
«First  <  1 2 | Page of 2  sorted by
 
Quick Reply

Please log in to post quick replies.

Tweet this page Post to Digg Post to Del.icio.us


Create your own FREE Forum
Report Abuse
Powered by ActiveBoard