Going, Going, Going!

When I was very young, my romance with reading and writing began. I loved every word I encountered, tasting each one as it rolled off my tongue.

One particular word became my favorite, and to this day I love it. Going is the word of choice for me.

I remember as a child when mother began to gather purse and keys I would chortle, “Going, going, going!” Every time we left the trailer was an adventure to me. I loved riding the sleek white Buick into our little hometown. The trees and houses we passed on the narrow two-lane road enchanted me. There were people living in each house who were full of life. I imagined what they did, thought, and said, as I sat on the blue vinyl seat with mother beside me.

We went to the bank, and that fascinated me because money stayed there. Mom would take money in or get some out, and inevitably I would get a lollipop. Those were good days when tellers gave the luscious suckers out, perhaps to make some good association in a childish mind so when one grew older banking would be more palatable.

When we came out of the bank I would shift from foot to foot, “Going, going, going?” Sometimes we went to Grants, the local department store. There were beautiful new objects for me to admire on every shelf. Occasionally Mom bought me a new Pee-Wee doll or Matchbox car while we visited that wonderland.

If I was lucky, Mom stopped at the bright clean new McDonald’s to buy some lunch. What a feast the hamburger wrapped in crinkly paper, and the delicious golden fries spilling from their white paper bag with the famous arches printed on it, were.

“Going, going, going” is to this day tattooed on my mind with the fondest childhood memories. Now, going, going, going is a way of life for most of us. The simple splendor of a trip to town has lost much of its luster in our hustle, bustle world. We go to work, we go to the store, we go out to eat, so frequently and never seem to stand still long enough to breathe.

Hey now, I must let you go… maybe I will see you later… Going, going, going!

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Copyright July 5, 2000

I Say…

To grow takes a concentrated effort because change does not come easily but with disruption.

What is certain today may prove obsolete tomorrow.

Minds and hearts are like the oceans in constant state of motion.

I am not yet who I wish to be, but am choosing a path to lead me there.

My purpose is unclear to me, but I am convinced God will use me to good purpose.

Love is the goal of all life unless perverted beyond all reason.

Even a dim candle brings light to a dark space likewise one person may spread love to a lonely world. Go and be a friend to all you may find.

Teach tolerance, reap a community of understanding.

Art is a window into the soul of all who experience, the artist and observer benefit.

Did I not express myself I would remain unknown and unknowing for in expression I become real.

Each person is a gift from God to the universe and so is worthy of respect and love.

Words are immensely powerful, use them with tender care.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

March 4, 2003

This is meant to be a funny story and I mean no slights to anyone. It happened to me years ago and nowadays I take care of such things myself again, but I think it is worth sharing without too much editing.

The Evening I Met the Primordial Force

Electricity

I am the average woman. I regulate some tasks to the men in my life, but when they do not accomplish what I desire, I endeavor to do it myself. This time I acted because he was not home, and I had to have this done immediately.

The bathroom fixture blossomed tulip like with three 100-watt bulbs and two were blown. As I am a creature of light, this wanted correction.

I plucked the first bulb out with no difficulty and replaced it. The second came unscrewed from the base leaving the metal in the socket. I turned off the power.

Alex, my son, brought a Mag-Lite® and I began working with the pliers. The base only bent, not coming out. I worked with it for what were moments, but seemed hours, to no avail.

The light was insufficient to see properly. Alex stood on the green tile by the door. I told him to turn on the lights, and obedient boy he is, he did so.

The counter was high and I was kneeling on its damp marbleized surface. My feet were bare and I was wearing blue jean shorts and a tank top with petite floral decoration. When the light blazed on I was stretched upward reaching the pliers to within a few centimeters of the offending fixture.

I should have known better, for my brother came near electrocution years ago in a machine shop. Improper ground is dangerous.

The current arced from the fixture to my implement and entered my body with a sizzle. I screamed as I instinctively jumped backward. The sparks and the shock terrified me.

Alex asked with a trembling waver, “Mom, are you alright?”

I looked at the blackened end of the pliers and then to the pale face of my sweet child, “Yes, I think so. That was an electrifying experience.”

Alex grinned, “Yeah Mom, scared me good. I thought you were going to fly for a second. Did you see the sparks?”

“Ah huh, and heard the sizzle pop too. I could have been dead. It hurt,” I replied.

“Let’s tell God thanks,” I said quietly and we prayed together.

After we fell silent, Alex told me, “Mom, I think that should be the last time you change a light bulb. I am telling Dad what happened when he gets home.”

I sighed, “Do you have to do that?”

“If you will tell him, I won’t say anything,” he bargained.

Therefore, I told my husband when he came home from work. He changed light bulbs from that day forward.

We all find this amusing now. It is one of the tales of my surprising ability to make accidents happen.

I met the primordial force: Electricity. I respect power now, and act in such ways that I do not provoke it.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

April 13, 2000