Sometimes I have moments where I think I’m smarter than I actually am.

I mean, by general standards, I’d probably rate myself somewhere in the “average to above average” intelligence range.  My Hubs is definitely above average on that same smartness scale.  He’s definitely smarter than I am.  He uses words that I have to look up…not to try to seem more clever than he is…but just because he actually knows them and those words are more accurate descriptions of what he’s trying to say.

Once he used the word “desiccated” and I thought he meant “desecrated”… so I made fun of him for misusing the word because I was SO SURE that he was wrong.  I even made a bet over it….which I lost as soon as I consulted my good friend dictionary.com on the issue.  My Hubs was talking about the rainfall being low and that our grass was really desiccated….I thought he meant destroyed…what he really meant was “extremely dry.”  Since then, only when I’m positive…I mean, absolutely positively, I-studied-that-word-a-million-times-for-the-SAT-in-high-school positive…do I challenge him on it.  And I’ve been right a few times….a very few times.  I still love those times though…probably because I’m hard-headed and really like to be right.

Tid Bit spent all last week at school looking forward to the Pirate Palooza that was going to be happening this past Friday.  Each class did some fun pirate related crafts, read some fun stories, drew treasure maps…the works.  He’d come home and bury “treasure” in the yard and then pace off where it was to draw on his map.  And Friday…well, Friday was the day where he got to dress like a pirate.  We spent well over an hour on Thursday scouring our house for pirate looking gear to wear.  I cut a cheap white t-shirt of mine and laced it together at the neck with jute string, and even cut zig zags on the bottom hemline to look tattered.  We made wrist cuffs from some scrap leather I happened to have lying around, and I fashioned a vest out of some pieces of fabric I’d used for a craft project a couple of years ago.  We tied a scarf around him as a sash, and slung one of my wide black belts over his shoulder to look like a sword holster.  He looked amazing.

See…..

He’s even been talking like a pirate.

“Ahoy there Mommy!  I feel like I could eat a whale.  Could I please have a snack?”

“ARGHHHH little brother, you’re going to have to walk the plank!”

“Look out matey’s, I’m digging for buried treasure!” (as he makes a giant hole in the yard.)

You get the picture.

So, when he was sitting on our bed coloring a pirate map with the Hubs the other night and said “Look out you land BLUBBER,”  I got really tickled.  But, not nearly as tickled as when my husband corrected him and said “No…it’s Land LUBBER.”

I burst out laughing and said “What did you say?!”

Tid Bit said “It’s land BLUBBER Daddy!”

My hubs looked kinda sheepish and said “No…it’s land LUBBER!”

I kept laughing and said “No…you’re both wrong.  It’s land LOVER.  Like a person who loves the land.”  And then I continued my jesting and ridicule of my husband and son.  Laughing so hard because seriously…who’s ever heard of a “Lubber?!”  That’s not even a word!

Today we had lunch with some friends and the conversation turned somehow to “smarts.”  I said that my Hubs is smarter than I am, but threw in that I feel very satisfied when I have a moment of real cleverness and know something that he doesn’t.  I gave the example from the previous night about the “Land Lubber.”

Our friend Phil burst out laughing and said “It IS Land LUBBER!”  Not Lover…or Blubber!”

Phil is from Australia.  I think probably a large portion of Australia was originally run by pirates…thus the cool accents of both Australians and pirates.  So I was a little bit more willing to believe Phil…but still…I wanted my moment of correctness in the sun to enjoy as well.

My Hubs broke out Google and then I knew I’d be proven correct….FINALLY we’d put an end to this hilarious ridiculousness and use of a word that was about as real as the ones my uncle Pete would make-up to beat me in Scrabble when I was a kid.

Here’s what Google told us:

land·lub·ber/ˈlan(d)ˌləbər/

Noun: A person unfamiliar with the sea or sailing

I insisted that we look up “Land Lover” to prove that in fact was another way to say the word…the correct version of course…of a person who knows and loves the land more than the sea.  And here is what Google had for us then:

land lover

The pirate expression of scorn for those who don’t go to sea is not “land lover” but “landlubber.”

DOH!  Say what?!

I hate to be wrong!  Especially when I’m so sure I’m right.

That’s what I get for making fun!

Here’s to hoping that moving forward, my average “smarts” can help me get my foot out of my mouth…and perhaps even keep it out!

Doubtful….

I really won’t ever forget.

I was 23 and working at a top 40 radio station…B 93.7.  I was young and pretty carefree.  I drove a black convertible and lived in a cute little blue house that I had bought earlier that year.  My family is close, I had good friends, and life was relatively smooth.  I felt safe by myself and had taken enough kick-boxing classes to fill in the gaps of the unsafe feelings.  Til that day…

I was sitting at my desk in the advertising/sales department writing up some client orders for commercials.  The morning show was on in our office, but mostly we tuned them out and listened to make sure our commercials were running at the right times.  Until they said something that caught everyone’s attention.

Photo Source

“A plane just flew into the World Trade Center.”

We all ran upstairs to the one TV in the entire radio station and gathered around while we tried to process the awful mistake.  How a pilot could have lost control?  Was the plane having mechanical problems?  All those people….in the plane…in the building. Maybe the building might be ok…just a couple floors in really bad shape, right?  So. Much. Smoke.

Then I saw with my own eyes…another plane come barreling straight into the other tower.

This was on purpose.  Who could do this?  So much hate…and of what?  Our country?  Innocent people who just got up to go to work that day…like any other day.  Why would anyone do this?  Are any of us safe anymore?

A building full of salespeople turned towards the ticker tape of the news radio station which was firing out new information before it was even coming up on the TV.  Everyone in the building was huddled in the hallways outside of the studios…listening…weeping.

Then another plane…the Pentagon.  And another one…in some field in Pennsylvania.

Would there be more?  Fear struck everyone.  And anger…and pride for this place that we live.  Compassion for those people who were hurt.  Hopefully everyone would get out and they could fix the buildings.

Then the unimaginable….stories high skyscrapers tumbling into a heap.  Collapsing as if there were made of sticks and ash.  Thousands of people unable to get out.  All those people.  All.  Those.  People.

I felt sick…and afraid.  I didn’t sell a thing or even go see clients that day even though somehow we were supposed to “carry on.”  I went home and curled up on my sofa and cried.  I have a hard time “carrying on” in the face of tragedy.  I wished I could help….but I was helpless hundreds of miles away.

And when I think back on that time, here’s what comes to mind about the way we all felt afterwards.

“Now this nation that I love is fallin’ under attack.
A mighty sucker-punch came flying in from somewhere in the back.
Soon as we could see clearly through our big black eye,
Man, we lit up your world like the fourth of July.

Hey, Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.
And the eagle will fly and it’s gonna be hell,
When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell.
And it’ll feel like the whole wide world is raining down on you.
Ah, brought to you, courtesy of the red, white and blue.” – lyrics by Toby Keith

Where did that feeling go?  The one where political party didn’t matter, economic station in life didn’t matter, the little things didn’t matter?  The one where we all cried together, held hands together, took pride in our country together?  The one where we just wanted to make things right again…and help each other, and risk so much to make a difference?  And 10 years later…while I’d never in a million years want to relive that day again…I miss the “United We Stand” stickers on everyone’s cars…and the feeling that we all meant it… that came after that awful day.  And when we say “we will never forget”…I hope it’s not just about the events of a horrible day.  I hope that what we don’t forget is the unity we found in the midst of all of our differences…and that even though parts of it seem to be forgotten, that we’ll find our way back there to be a group of united people in the United States of America.

Thanks to all the brave men and women who lost their lives fighting to save lives on September 11, 2001 and for weeks afterwards, may the grace and peace of the Lord rest on your shoulders instead of a heavy burden from that time.  May you be blessed for your selflessness.  To the families who lost…may the fullness of God restore and redeem in your life what the enemy set out to destroy.  And to the men and women who are STILL fighting to ensure that our free country stays free….may the protection of the Creator of the Universe hover above you and give you continued strength and courage. Today in particular, I for one, want to honor all of you and the all of the lives who were lost as well. 

I won’t ever forget.  I really won’t ever forget.

**Where were you on that day?  What were you doing, feeling?