Love Many, Trust Few: 7 Random Things To Tell You On A Tuesday In May

May 6, 2025May 6, 2025 / Ally Bean / 246 Comments

As they say: Love many, Trust few, Always paddle your own canoe

1 – I am vexed. I was a fan of Tetris when it first came out, became pretty darned good at it on my Game Boy, so when I stumbled over 368 Chickens I was enthusiastic. But this free little online game is impossible to win and I resent this. I keep trying to get to the goal, zero chickens, but consistently fail. Apparently this game, like many things in life, is designed to frustrate more than empower.

2 – I am laughing. I’ve wondered about the origins of Pantone, the company that decides which colors are THE ones we’ll be seeing and wearing everywhere during a year. Here’s an infographic explaining the company’s history plus adds a few suggestions for *revised* color names. For example, I adore a shade of blue renamed from Classic Blue to Postman’s Trouser. A better name, yes?

3 – I am unsettled. I used BookRaid AI’s Title Generator, followed by their Pen Name Generator, then their Book Plot Generator to see what artificial intelligence would tell me about writing a fiction book. The experience was unnerving because the suggestions were almost instantaneous, the ideas weren’t bad, and the plot was believable enough.

Thus a head’s up: if you see Violet Whitley’s children’s book called Paws and Claws: Unraveling the Mystery of the Wall Destroyer, A Story about Mittens and Whiskers, Feline Detectives, you’ll know it was *written* by me.

4 – I am excited. On my radar is the May 8th return of the TV series, Poker Face. Starring Natasha Lyonne as detective Charlie Cale this show’s first season was wonderful and that’s no bull shit. It’s well-paced, quirky, and off-the-wall in a good way, just the kind of entertainment to keep me upbeat.

5 – I am nerdy. I find typography interesting and enjoy punctuation so when Zen-Den saw a copy of AN ADMIRABLE POINT, A Brief History of the Exclamation Point! he bought it for me. [Thank you Zen-Den.] The book describes itself as reclaiming “the exclamation point from its much-maligned place at the bottom of the punctuation hierarchy.” Reading along in this witty little book I have to admit that I’m now a recovering punctuation snob who will henceforth adopt a more respectful attitude toward exclamation points!!!

6 – I am amused. According to the results of an online survey sometimes grandparents do not like their grandchildren’s names feeling the names are “ugly, old-fashioned, weird.” This can be problematic. The top hated names are Aurora, Charlotte, Elijah, Finn, Jack, Lindsay, Noah, Sally, and Tabitha.

For what it’s worth as a child-free woman I like those names and have never taken issue with my friends’ kids’ names. Although I have wondered [quietly to myself] about unusual spellings of names: a Candace spelled Candyce OR a Dana spelled Dhana. Seems like you’re burdening your child with a lifetime of correcting everyone about how to spell their first name.

7 – I am contemplative. Years ago, as an adjunct to determining what I am grateful for at the end of each day, I began answering the question: what have I learned today? I ask myself this question every night, sometimes surprised by my answers. I do this because I find that framing my life as an ongoing learning experience prompts me to keep engaged in life itself.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Have you ever played Tetris? Have you watched Poker Face? How do you goof off in your free time?

Do you believe, like I do, that the naming of colors is a career you were meant for but never found?

Does the mere existence of AI make you mutter and start to get twitchy?

Thinking about children’s names, have you ever disliked a child’s name so much that you voiced an opinion about it? How did that work out for ‘ya?

What have you learned today?

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I’m Pleased To Announce That Miss Nettie Briggs Has Entered The Chat

March 4, 2025March 4, 2025 / Ally Bean / 217 Comments

Give attitude, get attention, right?

I like that saying, it explains many things.

I prefer, and I think you’d agree, that the attitude be positive spunk [aka signal] rather than negative junk [aka noise], BUT the result is the same: the attention is on you.

Not that giving attitude is anything new.

In fact back when the world was a more genteel place free from 24/7 news and social media, I’m sure people gave attitude— just in more subtle ways. They may have been irritated by events and other people, but seemingly they tolerated that irritation with more grace than today*.

Case in point is Miss Nettie Briggs. She is featured in the professional portrait seen at the top of this post. She is looking placid, mildly amused by what she is doing.

Or so it seems to me.

I found this photo mixed in among the boxes of family photos that I sorted last summer and wrote about in Confessions Of A Reluctant Family Historian: My Kingdom For A Shredder, my most popular post of 2024. [Go figure?]

I don’t know for sure who Miss Nettie Briggs was: my mother had written her name on the back of the photo so she knew who she was. But there’s no one left from any generation that’d be able to tell me Miss Nettie Briggs’s story.

However I have an inkling of who she might have been.

I remember my mother talking about a nurse who came to live with her family for a year, tasked with looking after my mother’s older sister who’d had abdominal surgery. Something that at the time was a dangerous procedure that required months of bedrest in order to heal.

Nettie lived with them and when not looking after her charge, who slept a lot, she read books to and played games with my mother and her younger sister.

Mom liked Miss Nettie Briggs, as I recall. Enough, I would guess, to keep a photo of Miss Nettie Briggs around in a ratty cardboard box full of dusty old family photos for me to find one day.

I adore Miss Nettie Briggs because I find her charming.

Thus it has come to be that Nettie’s photo is now framed and hanging on the wall in our study where I do my blogging, old-school style on a desktop computer.

Meaning that whenever I do anything related to blogging Nettie is looking over my shoulder, keeping my thoughts mostly civil, my sense of humor firmly intact, and my vibe jovial enough.

At least most days.

Questions of the Day

What’s your attitude today? Are you receiving the kind of attention you want?

Do you have any old family photos of somebody who is a mystery to you?

Do you have any old or new photos of people framed and hanging on your walls? Once upon a time that was frowned upon you know!

• 🤎 •

* Last month in various places online I, a kind-hearted person, was criticized for:

watching TV shows rather than reading books
suggesting that not all men are worthy of adoration
noting the demographics of people who got in my way
proposing that not all old things are worth saving
not obsessing constantly about The Donald and his First Buddy

Laugh When You Can: A Tale Of Brotherly Love + A Poem About Methuselah’s Diet

July 23, 2024 / Ally Bean / 207 Comments

Is this not true?

A Tale Of Brotherly Love

The other afternoon the temps were in the lower 80s so I went out onto our screened-in porch to enjoy fresh air and read a book.

I heard kids playing in the ravine behind the house. They were down in the creek bed that’s practically dry this time of year. Kids go exploring down there occasionally and in this case it was two boys, about 6 y.o. and 10 y.o.

I didn’t think a thing about it until I was jolted out of my reading by a loud Dad voice coming from the other side of the ravine.

Dad said: Alexander, where is your brother?

{Small voice, indistinguishable words}

Dad again: Alexander, I asked you, where is your brother? Where is William!!

{Slightly louder small voice, somewhat indistinguishable, but saying words that included “I don’t know”}

Dad continued: Alexander, I don’t care. Go back down into the ravine and find William. NOW!

At this point I heard a small whimper coming from the bottom of the ravine. A whimper so pathetic that I put down my book, stood up and looked down into the ravine where I saw a small boy sitting on a log by himself, crying, but not hurt or in any danger.

He was pretty much playing up the drama of being left behind.

I shouted over to the Dad telling him that I could see the abandoned brother, that he was fine, and then explained where I was so Alexander, the reluctant keeper of his brother, could find William.

At which point the Dad shouted thanks over my way while giving Alexander one last clearly stated command, a guideline for how to treat your brother.

And maybe all of humanity.

Dad said: ALEXANDER WE DON’T LEAVE OUR BROTHER IN A RAVINE, ANY RAVINE, EVER. Now go find him.

Which Alexander did with some alacrity while I watched, amused, from above.

So sayeth Dad, so let it be.

A Poem About Methuselah’s Diet

I continue to sort through old family photos and papers. In one of the boxes I found the following pithy poem. My father had saved it by cutting it out a newspaper.

According to the introduction to the poem it was on the dinner cards of the 1890 Class, College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York. Researching online I discovered there’s no known author for the poem.

DIET

Methuselah ate what he found on his plate,

And never, as people do now

Did he note the amount of the caloric count;

He ate it because it was chow.

•🔸•

He wasn’t disturbed, as at dinner he sat,

Destroying a roast or a pie,

To think it was lacking in granular fat,

Or a couple of vitamins shy.

• 🔸•

He cheerfully chewed every species of food,

Untroubled by worries or fears,

Lest his health might be hurt by some fancy dessert––

And he lived over Nine Hundred Years!

Here is the poem as seen in print.

Questions of the Day

What have you laughed out loud about lately?

What’s the last thing you overheard that made you stop what you were doing and eavesdrop?

What do you think of Methuselah’s pragmatic diet plan?

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Confessions Of A Reluctant Family Historian: My Kingdom For A Shredder

July 9, 2024July 9, 2024 / Ally Bean / 249 Comments

This is what is tripping me up. 😵‍💫

Last week while the outside temperatures and humidity soared to uncomfortable heights, I started going through boxes of old family photos + paper stuff, not because of an in-depth interest in genealogy, but because I want to reclaim a closet.

You see in our guest bedroom closet there are a gazillion and twenty-two boxes of old family photos + paper stuff that take up half of the closet.

Decades ago I inherited these boxes of old family photos + paper stuff from my mother and two aunts. While the boxes have been out of my sight for years their existence, even hidden away, has nagged at me.

Not as a constant worry mind you, but like a realization that there’s something I didn’t ask for taking up space in my life. And that something is weighing me down.

Group of guys, my great uncle is probably one of them.

Thus with quiet resolve I’ve begun going through these boxes that are disorganized, dusty, and sometimes have a musty odor that requires the use of an electric air cleaner in the room.

First I shredded that which obviously has no value. Things like a 1988 sales receipt for a “gold necklace” that was my mother’s, but who knows which necklace it refers to. Or things like patient notes scribbled in my doctor father’s chicken scratch cursive handwriting on the back of envelopes.

Then in an attempt to make some sense of it I’m sorting the contents of the boxes into smaller piles of:

Photos: a) by person when name is on the back or b) by guess based on the age of photo not the people in it [2 examples seen on this post]
Letters: a) personal exchanged within the family or b) signed by famous people
Historically interesting circuit rider preacher stuff [my great grandfather was one]
Lighthearted tidbits like comic strips or funny stories or cute cards
Bibles: 12 [!] complete ones + 3 New Testaments [1 in Spanish] + 1 Apocrypha

And this is where the project stands today.

Group of gals, my grandmother is probably one of them.

While I long to get this stuff dispatched to where it needs to go [trash? digitized photos? museums? wherever you send old Bibles?] there is a problem, obliquely referred to in a literary way in the title of this post. Gold star to anyone who gets the reference.

After shredding some old family photos + paper stuff and filling three 33 gallon extra large trash bags, I broke our 25 y.o. paper shredder. Jammed it up to a point that we decided to buy a new one, currently on order with Amazon, to be delivered later this week.

Because I have only just begun to shred. 😑

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