That Was Totally Weird

A few days ago, Hubby and I watched The Last Stand, an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie that began with a narration of the landscape—do you know where I’m going with this? Well, we didn’t. 

 

The narrator described the opening scene. He described the characters as if reading the movie script. All this while we were also watching the action and hearing the dialog. There was no background music, just the narration. “She downcast her eyes,” yep, he described that action right on cue.

 

I said, “Hey, we can see that; why are you telling us?” 

 

The narrator continued. It was annoying as we could see that the bad guy had his legs wrapped around Arnold’s neck, that was until all that reading became funny.  I thought it was a schtick, a ploy of the film, for there wasn’t much dialogue. Soon, I wasn’t paying much attention to the guy reading. But he wouldn't shut up. Okay, the move ended, but the guy kept talking. 

 

He read the credits—like ALL the credits, Castle Rock Film Co. Columbia Pictures, to the extreme of describing the lady holding the torch. He read ALL the actors and their parts. I skipped through that long list but wondered where in the heck this was going. Then the narrator called his wife, got her message machine, and said he missed her and wanted her back. He ranted for awhile, the message ran out, but began another and he continued where he had left off. The message ended, but he wasn’t finished talking.

 

Another message came on with a continuation of his one-sided conversation and apologizing. I thought it was similar to a cookie at the end of a movie. Way to go Arnold, you must have chosen this script because of this device. Then the guy, who should have needed a drink of water by now, started describing the following movie, The Morgans. We turned off the TV and laughed. “That was awesome. How weird. How clever.”

 

The next day, Daughter Dear said it was a setting on our television that got clicked on somehow. It was probably for the sight-impaired--maybe it was an open mike.

 

Oh.

 

But I’m still laughing.

 

More than you wanted to know?

I completed my 27 hours of real estate Continuing Education and then another 3 of Laws, so I’m set with a Real Estate Broker license for the next 2 years. The first year only lasted from the time we took your exam until our birthday month. 

I am study and tested out.

So, if you got anything weird from me, please chalk it up to my scrambled brain. Now I have changed the name of my newsletter. It’s on Substack. It's purpose is to let people know what I am up to, and determine if they want to continue with me. Here's a glimpse if you are interested: If not, tell me a funny story.

 

 

Introduction

Hi, I'm Joyce

 

Remember The Twilight Bark?

 

On a hillside in London, Papa Pongo desperately barked for help in finding his 15 stolen puppies. The great Dane heard his cry and set in motion the twilight bark where the message passed from dog to dog until it reached a farm outside town. There, the Colonel heard "Stolen, fifteen spotted puddles," until, with the help of Sargent Tibs (a cat), and a correction in hearing, they led the charge and rescued not 15 but 101 spotted puppies. After misadventures, trickery, skill, and bravery, they defeated that despicable vicious vile old witch, Cruella DeVille. (Disney movie 101 Dalmations.)

 

Jewell was my dog. Now she is my emissary, a past love heralding in the future, to lay a bark trail, of what you can expect from me.”

 

My daughter might take offense when I say that Jewell was my dog, for we adopted Jewell to be her dog. However, when my daughter was busy in high school, Jewell and I became inseparable. You know how it is: once a dog stamps her love on your heart, it's there forever.

 

This stealing of his dog's name worked for Indiana Jones. Isn't Indiana much more fun than Henry Jones Jr. and Raiders of the Lost Ark. It doesn't have a ring to it, does it? And try to say Joyce Davis without it coming out, JoyceStavis.

 

This newsletter morphed from a blog I've written titled Wish on White Horses. However, as that blog isn't about horses—this newsletter isn't about dogs.

 

Both animals are our teachers.

  

Horses teach us not to follow someone else's path but to blaze our own. Dogs teach love.

 

More... 

 

 

joycedavis.substack.com 

 

 

Mud or Monkeys?

 

 

Off the subject:

 

True Story from a reader:

 

Scene: Live Radio Real Estate Show Lincoln City 40 years ago.

 

Real Estate Person: My Mother

 

Caller: Some guy looking for a deal.

 

Mom: "We have a new listing for a fixer-upper. I just took a look at it here in Oceanlake. Let's talk to our first caller...:

 

Caller: "Wow, sounds interesting, Dorothy. What can you do with this fixer-upper?"

 

Mom: "Well....actually....one of two things... One is with a match, and the other is with a bulldozer."'

 

Aftermath...broker was not happy, property owner was not happy, but... Caller was amused, as were 3,000 listeners who knew she was being honest and remembered her name.

 

This writer knows I'm a new Real Estate Agent. Thanks, Greg, you made my day.

 

 

And now for my Blog:

 

EVOLUTION

 

Long ago, a friend asked me if I believed in evolution. 

 

 

I loved her and knew that she was worried about me. "Well," I said, "I'm a biology major. Evolution and biology go together. Evolution means change over time. It's that simple."

I knew her question was a loaded one. If I said yes, she would think I negated God.

 

Creationists and Evolutionists clash. Is that one reason we fight wars, a different belief in God?

 

Sometimes.

 

My friend is now in the Happy Hunting Grounds and probably has some insight into these questions. 

 

But in her time on earth, I knew what she wanted, "Did I believe we descended from monkeys?

 

That meant to her that I didn't think that God was the Creator.  

 

We're primates. We have a relationship with other primates in that we are of the same family that is Homo but of a different species sapiens. Did we descend from monkeys?

 

I don't know. It does not insult me. We could have descended from a Praying mantis where the females bite the head off the male after mating. That would really squelch the human race. The idea of evolution does not negate God.

 

I doubt if God scooped up a fistful of mud and formed a man, then seeing that his newly formed male was lonely, put him to sleep, extracted a rib, and made a woman. But I wouldn't put it past him/her. 

 

(Some cultures depict the first cause (God) as being female. And I am glad him/her used anesthesia.)

 

We're flesh, blood, and bony animals. We are lucky to be here. Get over yourself. 

Mud or monkeys? We are reading from a time when the writer didn't know about atoms, genetics, or DNA. Only recently have we discovered epigenetics, where we learned that genes can click off and on. This is not to mention how weird Quantum Physics is, with atoms being affected by the one who watches them. (Don't ask me, I didn't make this stuff up.)

 

In the Mayan culture, the "Creators" (there were more than one) created humans out of Maize, aka corn. That was after their wooden men broke.)

 

Humans are fantastic questioners, problem solvers, and creatives, so we dig, imagine, suppose, and come up with stories, legends, and truths.

 

Our brains are so good at coming up with answers they will give us a response to the most inane questions. Ask your brain a question, and it will come up with a reply. 

Did God create us from some primeval sludge, then like Mickey Mouse as The Sorcerer's Apprentice who used the Sorcerer's wand and sent the water-carrying brooms got out of control?

 

 Did God throw a lightning bolt, ignite an amino acid, and viola' it became alive?

 

Somehow a DNA strand was created, single cells formed, and those friendly cells sought out each other and assembled into an organism. As time went on, that cohesive group became a larger swimming creature. Those creatures transformed into something that could live on land, finally becoming a skinny pink, brown, yellow, or red homolid, and finally Homo sapiens.

 

 That would have been fun to watch—given stop-action cameras.

 

Some say we were seeded from the stars, and they are right. Our solar system is a collected array of stardust that circled into the spiral we call home.

  

Some say Aliens planted us, or we came from aliens. That pushes the problem back. How were the aliens created?

 

Nowadays, species pretty much stay fixed in their course. That means they do not inner breed. However, once in a while, we get a hybrid like a horse and a donkey that produce an offspring called a mule. (More likely than not, with man's interference. In the wild, they probably would not interbreed.)

 

In the natural order of things, typically, mules are sterile, but as with most things, there can be an exception to the rule. I read that one mule produced offspring. Generally speaking; however, Nature says, "Stop inner specie breeding." And there are various physical and psychological aspects to that. But man, in his desire to be as smart as God, does bypass some of those obstacles. 

 

A species of squirrels became divided by the Grand Canyon. the squirrels on each side of the canyon developed into their own species. (You can imagine how long that took?)

 

This isn't a change of species, but a phenomenon worth mentioning.

 

ABC News W A S H I N G T O N, July 28, 2000 -- Researchers announced on Thursday that they were successful in growing eyes in fish that have been blind for eons — simply by inserting a lens from sighted fish.

Apparently, the lens seemed to send out signals that instructed the eyes in the blind cave fish to grow — a finding that sheds light on how eyes evolve and develop the researchers said.

Born Blind, A fish known as Astyanax mexicanus lives deep inside caves off the coast of Mexico where there is no light. Millions of years ago it had eyes; but now, soon after it starts growing in the  egg, the eyes start to degenerate and the fish are born blind.

Fish of the same species that live on the surface, where there is light, grow eyes and see normally.

Stem cells?

You see, I do not leave God out of the picture. I think the God force is so grand we can't comprehend it. One explanation is that that Force is Consciousness. 

 

Let's keep looking, researching, and debating, but let's not fight about it. We're all drops from the same ocean that is God.

 

And now this came to me after writing about evolution:

 

For Women, and the Men Who Love Them.

 

An email yesterday ignited old feelings about the use of Mare's urine in Hormone Replacement Therapy.  

 

DO NOT USE PREMARIN, WHOSE ESTROGEN IS DERIVED FROM MARE'S URINE.

 

Plant-derived estrogens are healthier for you and do not torture horses.

 

"There are bioidentical hormones available that have lower risks than animal-derived counterparts"*

 

And why don't the pharmaceutical companies use them? 

 

You can't copyright a plant.

 

My blood boiled after I learned how pregnant mares are treated to obtain their urine. 

 

First, they are tied during pregnancy and stand on cement, killing their legs. Then, they wear a permanent Catheter and are impregnated again soon after their babies are born. So the cycle goes until the Mare is ruined.

 

And often, their babies are throw-away foals.

 

Once I visited Sanctuary One, an animal sanctuary near Medford, Oregon.

 

 

 

At the Sanctuary I met a Premarin-rescued horse. 

 

When they received the Mare, Shasa, the caretaker, told me, "Her legs were like noodles from standing on cement for so long." When she came to them, she would lie down, but did not have the strength to get up, so they used a tractor to lift her.

 

When I petted her, I commented that she was a "Curly" (There are horses with curly hair) "No," said Shasa, "She has Cushing's disease from the stress. Her hair doesn't shed, and we must clip her." 

 

One rescued horse!

 

This Story was edited out of my book The Frog's Song, yet most publishers want angst—you figure. (Visit https://thefrogssong.com to read outtakes from the book.

Bless that sanctuary. They are wonderful. They took Orville and Wilbur, our pet, gentle, lovable healthy goats who became goodwill ambassadors. In return, I gave them our horse trailer. 

 

 

Orville and Wilbur

 

P.S. One of the plants that produce estrogen is Wild Yam. If your doctor doesn't give you the bioequivalent therapies, have your doctor send the Rx to a compounding pharmacy, and they will whip it up for you. Also, https://parlor-games.com *sells non-urine (Silky Peach Cream) laced estrogen and progesterone creams.  

 

*Hormone Replacement therapy Conclusion:: Physiological data and clinical outcomes demonstrate that bioidentical hormones are associated with lower risks, including the risk of breast cancer and cardiovascular disease, and are more efficacious than their synthetic and animal-derived counterparts. Until evidence is found to the contrary, bioidentical hormones remain the preferred method of HRT. Further randomized controlled trials are needed to delineate these differences more clearly.”