No Offense

I read a letter to the editor in my local Florida newspaper today, in which a man objected to being referred to as a "snow bird". He said it amounted to a slur, and after 30 years of spending winters in Florida, he preferred to be called a "winter resident" or "tourist". (Yeah, because "tourist" commands so much more respect.) I understand peoples' need to express their opinion in the newspaper, and have done so myself once or twice in my life. But sheesh, couldn't they pick their battles a little better?

Seems everyone is offended by something these days. Hasn't it gone a little too far? Why is "snow bird" so offensive? I don't know the actual origin of the moniker, but in my own mind it represents someone who "flies" South to avoid the snow in winter. This is bad? So what else is offensive that we should change? How about "early birds", those customers who flock ('scuse the pun) to restaurants between 4 and 6 pm to take advantage of reduced dinner prices? I guess we should change that name too. How about "frugal daylight diners"? Or "late afternoon reduced-price smaller-portion dinner eaters"? Either of these good?

Of course, like most names, it's all in the tone that is used when saying it. For instance, the word "Sweetie" sounds inocuous enough, as in "Sweetie, would you pass the salt?" But it takes on a more ominous tone in "Listen, Sweetie, I've got more class in my little finger than you've got in your whole liposucked body!"

Tone is what makes the difference. So what's going on with Mr. Winter Resident? Has he been hearing a little sneer in references to snow birds? In all fairness to him, there are always some complaints about overcrowded roadways and waiting lines at restaurants during 'season', often followed by laments that "the snow birds are here." And at the extreme, there are a few hard-core locals with pickup trucks bearing bumper stickers like "SNOWBIRDS GO HOME" and "WE DON'T CARE HOW YOU DO IT UP NORTH". These same fine citizens often display the confederate flag prominently on their trucks, and chew tobacco. I think a good rule of thumb is to consider the source when taking offense. I know that local business owners are delighted to see the annual migration of snow birds, and wait with baited breath their collective landing. However, if Mr. Winter Resident is miffed, so be it.

I also read in the same paper today that the powers that be are holding a contest to choose a new state song. Seems the current Florida state song, Stephen Foster's classic "Old Folks At Home", has become too offensive. Well, in this case I might agree. The lyrics do refer to "darkies" and the Suwannee River is misspelled 'Swanee'. Overtones of the bad old days of slavery have soured the desirability of this song being played at inaugurations and other official ceremonies. So they're asking people to submit their original songs for consideration. I say, come on, let's just choose "Margaritaville" and get it over with.

So anyway, I've decided I really should be offended about something. So I've decided that I object to the term "Baby Boomer". It is offensive to the largest portion of the population and should not be used. The term "Baby Boom" implies that our parents had nothing better to do in the years following World War II than procreate their brains out, and the name "Baby Boomer" implies I am nothing more than a product of this rampant practice of shameless procreation. It's demeaning. There.

Also, since I am fast approaching the age of 55, I'm protesting the terms "Senior Citizen", "Senior", "Future Senior", "over 55", "Geezer", "Old Coot", and "Old Fart". All offensive.
I've decided on a new identity. It is as follows:

"Person of Undisclosed Age, Young Enough to Look Forward to Tomorrow, and Old Enough to Value Today."

Thank you. I hope I haven't offended anyone.

Grace

My husband and I have had THE COLD (no matter where you live, you know what I'm talking about) since mid-January, no kidding. He got it first. I held off for about a week and half, thought I had escaped its grasp, and then got IT. This thing is most probably being doled out by Satan himself. Anyway, we took antibiotics, boxes and boxes of Theraflu, and more or less got over it. We thought. But no, IT'S back. According to the doctor today, it actually never left, just lulled us into a false sense of relief thinking we were just "feeling the last little vestiges." So today we both got prescriptions for more antibiotics, antihistimines, and narcotic-laced cough medicines. Goody. But here's the thing. There was a giant gift from God in the middle of this return of the cold.

For anyone who accidentally stumbled onto this site and doesn't know me, I'll let you know that I'm a singer. So is my husband. It's how we both make our living. All of it. We don't have a day job, or any other business. Our business is entertainment. So this accursed cold has been a double nightmare. We sing at a restaurant during the week and do cabaret dinner shows on the weekends. People buy tickets. Reservations are made. The show must go on. Enter THE COLD. So without belaboring the story, we have managed to get through it. But last weekend the second round of this disease was coming on me pretty good. It was making me cough a lot, and thus irritating the heck out of my throat, making my voice catch and break at unscheduled intervals. Like in the middle of a dramatic ballad. I was suffering through this at our restaurant job during the week. Now here comes the weekend with two important dinner shows to do. Actual dim-the-lights, curtain-up, ta-da-we're-on kind of shows. I was beginning to feel panicky. Then a story from the Bible (2 Corinthians) came into my head and wouldn't leave. It's when the apostle Paul asked God to take away his affliction. (There are theories about what the affliction was, but whatever it was, it was bad enough for Paul to ask God to take it away at least three times.) God's answer was "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." These words of God stuck with me. So I tossed aside my panic, and just had faith in this "grace" of God's. I didn't desperately pray to be miraculously healed by tonight, instead I just gave my affliction to God and trusted that His grace would be sufficient for me, and that His power would be made perfect in my weakness. The key word here is Trust. And you guessed it, I sang my little heart out with nary a wayward note or squawk. I was still weak, and I still had the cold, and in the morning I still coughed and hacked and felt miserable. And that second night I got on the stage again and trusted again and sang like a bird. Again. So what happened is, the affliction was still there, but it was suspended for an hour and half, two nights in row. By the Grace of God. Truly His power was made perfect in my weakness. So I'm just letting everyone know about it. I'm so grateful, I wanted to publish my gratitude. God is so faithful, I am humbled, because I know I don't deserve it. But that's the point. No one deserves it. And that's the gift. God is good. We are not. We can have faith, not because we're good, but because He is.