It’s a date. Or four.

 

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

Just about the time my own children began blessing me with grandchildren, a peculiar thing started happening in my pre-frontal lobe.

The pre-frontal lobe, dear readers, is the brain’s very own file cabinet for short-term memory. I know because I Googled (or, more precisely, Binged) it on line. And just because I am at this moment in time explaining the pre-frontal lobe and its critical role in our ability to remember facts and figures doesn’t mean the information will still be with me 24 hours from now.

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May(an) the New Year bless us all

 

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

Let’s just assume you’re reading this, which means the Mayans had it all wrong, and we weren’t pummeled by asteroids on Dec. 21.

With that, Happy New Year! And instead of burning bits of rocks, I pray for blessings on all our little heads.

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Lions and tigers and …marauding raccoons?

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

Some people are afraid of spiders, and for some the creepiest critter on Earth is the slithering snake. For me, it’s always been flying monkeys.

You know the ones. They were introduced in the 1939 first-ever color movie, “The Wizard of Oz,” when the Wicked Witch of the West said the word, and a gajillion flying monkeys filled the sky. To this very day I either slam my grandmotherly peepers shut or make some excuse to leave the room. You should know I’m also freaked out by Dorothy chanting about lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

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Seasoned saws

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

My brother Jim forwarded me an email that’s making the over-55 rounds these days. While many of his communiqués are quite pithy in political terms, some, like this one, are more along the lines of “gotcha!”

As the eldest of six siblings, Jim enjoys a kind of rock star status. We see it as within his scope of firstborn influence to say to us, for the most part, whatever he wants and whenever he wants, except in the middle of the night unless we all synchronize our trips to the bathroom. But we are old Thomases. Old Thomases can’t program VCRs, HDTV remotes, iPhones/iPads/ay-yi-yi/Space Patrol Decoders or digital watches, much less synchronize bathroom visits for a time when we’re all awake. (I guess we could all hook up in a conference call – at any given hour one or more of us will be on the way to or on our way back from the potty.)

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In your Facebook

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

Sorry this is kinda late, Mr. Editor. But Facebook ate my computer.

Seriously.

Last week I wrote about “coincidences,” which for the most part are wondrous little God-humor events in my life. This week the simultaneous occurrences didn’t seem quite so divine – although right now I am able to laugh again.

Google “giggle” and you have me.

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What a coincidence! (Not!)

By Kathleen Thomas Gaspar

Don’t you just love it when you’re hit with a moment of complete and random coincidence, or, as I like to call it, “a God thing?”

Yeah. Me too. And I had a whole week of “randomness,” starting with a phone call from my husband on Monday at the precise moment I was calling him. We’re tuned into each other’s day enough that we often make our calls at about the same time. But what made this simultaneous dialing interesting was that I had been out of cell service area for hours and had just reached a geographical area that afforded me three bars on my iPhone.

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