Only in France

            St. Bob (oddly not represented in sculpture there) and I just got back from France. It was fabulous, and the food in Lyon was swoon-worthy. Here are just a few pics:

          However, it seems France has made some strange choices that I would file under “Gee, what could possibly go wrong?”  First, they were so enamored with the symbol of a lion in many of their cities, that they bought a live lion in the 1890s. I know, I know.

Then they thought, “Hey, let’s have a bull fight with the lion against the bull.”  (This happened in the Roubaix arena and in others.) Needless to say, the bull is no match for the strong, fast, cunning predator that a lion is. No word about the longevity of the lion handlers.

The next thing I discovered was when a young woman on the cruise ship decided to join a local marathon. Turns out the entire mass of runners stops several times for wine-tastings. Obviously, no one cares who wins the race, and this might be the only marathon in my lifetime where I'd actually have a chance.

But the most puzzling choice France has made is to let young drivers who have lost their driver’s license, to drive anyway. Yep, anyone aged 14 or over can drive a little two-seater car called a VSP—a voiture sans permis— with as little as four hours of experience behind the wheel.

          No one even knows how many of them are on the road. I know, I know, one seems like too many.  But France has still stolen my heart—if not my pocketbook—and I’ll no doubt return someday, hopefully not too close to any VSP drivers or lions.

Meanwhile, Christmas is coming and the perfect gift is this marvelous short story of mine, just $3.49, in beautiful booklet form. Order some for all the people you know!   

Identifi-fiction

          Have you ever had to get an ID sticker to wear when visiting someone at the hospital?  Our son, Richie, recently had heart surgery, and this is the sticker I was asked to wear:

          Let me ask you: Can you even tell it’s a photo of a person?  I imagine the purpose of these stickers is to prevent people from sneaking in and sleeping in empty rooms, but that’s just a guess.  Still, shouldn’t the photo at least resemble the actual person?  This shot doesn't even show a face:

             Schools and businesses also require these IDs. And, of course you capture images on security cameras. But I’ve seen pictures of furniture that look more human than some of these shots.

And can you even tell who this is? 

 Or this? I must know half a dozen people who look just like these images.

           Here’s my driver’s license photo, which was taken when I was bald from having chemo. Yes, I’m wearing a wig.

           But at least it looks humanoid. Who would have thought the DMV would be the best photographer in this ID business?

Hey, check out my Youtube Mom videos. You'll find all kinds of life hacks. No ID required. And I respond to every comment (well, not the trolls). 

Bob's Latest Scheme

           St. Bob is in the doghouse.

          Here’s what happened. A few years ago my friend, Cynthia Rhine, gave me a wonderful European-style license plate, which I display in the background of my Youtube Mom videos: 

          So St. Bob, for Christmas, thought he’d get me an actual personalized car license plate that said the same thing. Only it’s too many letters. The maximum is seven. So he BRILLIANTLY came up with UTUBMOM.

          “I am not going to be known as a Tub Mom,” I said. He laughed and laughed.

          The only good part of this story is that he told me before actually ordering it. Smart man. Twisted, but smart.

          You are welcome to view any of the hundreds of life hacks and tips I post in short videos as the Youtube Mom. With an e, thank you. (And you can still get quick delivery from Amazon for A LITTLE CHRISTMAS PRAYER, my booklet that's the perfect gift for everyone.)

Where's Your Grammar At?

                We all have pet peeves.  And the older we get, the more of them we have.   My four kids can tell you that my absolute, Number One, top pet peeve (and I’m hoping yours is not redundancy) is when people end their sentences with the word “at.”   Whenever someone commits this grammar crime, my kids’ heads whip around to see if I am visibly wincing or able to conceal my pain.  It’s usually a combination of both.

                We’ve all heard it.  Let me see where he’s at.  Where’s your car at?  What time will you be there at?  Where is your mom at? 

                And if ever they cart me away to the funny farm, and people ask why, you can tell them I was pushed over the brink by a mountain of ats, piling up and pushing me to the edge, until finally I fell down the cliff into the Sea of Insanity. That’s where I will be at.

                This isn’t a picky rule, like not ending your sentences with a preposition and causing generations of pedantic people to say, “up with which we cannot put.”  It’s a rule that makes sense.  When you say “where IS” then you don’t also need AT.   When a clerk says, “Where is it at?” it takes Herculean restraint for me not to say, “You mean ‘where is it’.”  But kindness trumps rudeness, so I politely refrain from correcting people I did not give birth to.  Or, for those of you even more afflicted than I am, people to whom I did not give birth.

                The other pet peeve I shall share today is one most people have never thought about, and, possibly, might ruin the driving experience for you forevermore.  So stop reading now if this worries you.  No?  Okay, then I’ll tell you.  It’s  license plate frames that say “Alumni of” some university.

                Now, what’s wrong with pride in your alma mater?  Nothing.  The problem is that you are an alumnus, if male, or an alumna, if female.  No matter how many split personalities you may have, sadly, you are not an alumni, which is plural.  I suppose if you and your spouse both attended the school, and you’re both in the car together, then the sign would be correct.  But how often is this the case?  To sport this grossly incorrect sign discredits your school, no?  It would be like displaying a bumper sticker that says, “I’m a atterney.”  Or a librarian saying she works in the lye-berry.

                Sign manufacturers would do well to come up with a frame that simply says “alum,” which would be singular, and would cover both men and women.   Until then, I am keeping my thoughts to myself.  Well, except for blogging about them.  But we’re civilized folks, most of us, and it’s ill-mannered to correct people with poor grammar in any regard.  So if someone asks me where my husband is at, I'll just answer them.  And maybe I'll add that he's an alumnus of LSU.  Or not.

Grammar fanatics, I feel your pain.  You need to read my book, Sisters in the Mix, available on Kindle and in paperback at Createspace.com.  I think you'll like the main character.