Category: Radio Station WRYL (Page 4 of 8)
The Wit And Wisdom Of Horace B Miesner
The best things in life are free… mostly because nobody wants them.
WRYL – The Voice of the Great Up North
Dear Shirley,
I’m writing to you today with a heavy heart and a mind full of worry. My son, Robert, is 15 and has become a stranger in his own home. He spends every waking moment locked away in his room, either with his nose in a book or scribbling away in a notebook. On the rare occasions he emerges from his room, I can hear that awful jazz music playing on his phonograph—it’s hardly fit for polite society, let alone a growing boy.
His friends call, but he just tells them he’s “busy.” Busy with what, I ask? Just yesterday, while he was at school, I went into his room and read some of his stories. It was all about the past, a time he’s never known. He wishes he could go back and live a different life. It’s all quite disturbing, to be honest.
I’m afraid he’s being sucked into this made-up world, and one day he’ll just disappear into it forever. I worry about him, about his future. How will he ever get a good job if he has no friends and no social skills? All the other boys his age are out playing baseball or going to the movies. My Robert just wants to hide away. Please, Shirley, tell me what to do. How do I save him from himself?
Sincerely,
A Concerned Mother
Dear Concerned Mother,
It seems you’ve found yourself in a rather peculiar predicament. It’s a tale as old as time, really: a mother worried her son is turning into a… well, a thinker. Oh, what a terrible fate that would be. One can only imagine the horrors of a child who prefers the company of books and his own thoughts to the rough-and-tumble world outside.
Let’s dissect this, shall we? You’re concerned he’s a “hermit.” You’ve even gone so far as to spy on him and read his private writings. A mother’s love, it seems, knows no bounds—nor does her curiosity. You’ve discovered he has a vibrant imagination, a longing for something more, and a passion for things like writing and music. And your reaction? Fear. You’re afraid he’s being “sucked into” this world, and you’re worried about his social life.
Tell me, what exactly is “normal” for a teenage boy? Is it a life spent chasing a ball, going to movies or following the crowd? And what, pray tell, is so wrong with being different? Perhaps your son is not destined to be just like all the others. Perhaps he is meant to be a creator, a dreamer, a storyteller. What is so frightening about that?
Instead of trying to “save him from himself,” perhaps you should be asking yourself what you’re trying to save him from. Are you worried about what the neighbors will think? Or are you simply uncomfortable with a son who is not a carbon copy of the boys in the other families on the street?
Instead of criticizing this “fantasy world” he has created, why don’t you try to understand it? Ask him about his stories. What inspires him? Who are his characters? Perhaps this “fantasy world” is simply a way for him to make sense of the real one. Instead of seeing his creativity as a threat, see it as a gift. He has a mind that can travel through time and create entire worlds out of thin air. How many people can say that?
Your son is not a project to be fixed. He is a young man with a unique mind and a rich inner life. The only thing you need to worry about is whether you’ll allow yourself to be a part of it.
With some common sense,
Shirley
Things Our Mother Taught Us
My Mother taught me Logic
“Because I said so! That’s why!”
This has been a public service announcement from WRYL
The Voice of the Great Up North
The Wit And Wisdom Of Horace B Miesner
Happiness is just sadness that hasn’t happened yet.
WRYL – The Voice of the Great Up North
Dear Shirley,
I’m at my absolute wit’s end, and I fear my thoroughly modern kitchen will soon be the scene of a rather un-modern meltdown. My husband’s parents, bless their cotton socks, have decided that our humble abode is merely an extension of their own, and my life, a delightful little play in which they are the uncredited directors.
My mother-in-law, “Agnes,” is a veritable whirlwind of unsolicited advice. She critiques my perfectly adequate casserole dishes, suggests I “dust more thoroughly” (as if I were a mere slip of a girl who just learned to keep house!), and has even dared to rearrange my linen closet, claiming my towels were not “folded with proper respect.” And don’t even get me started on her “helpful” tips for raising our children – apparently, a good smack on the bottom is still the cure-all for everything from a scraped knee to a less-than-perfect report card.
Then there’s Father-in-law, “Clarence,” who insists on “stopping by” unannounced almost daily to “check on things.” He’ll march right into the garage to inspect my husband’s tools, offer booming opinions on our lawn care, and once, he even timed how long it took me to get dinner on the table. My husband, bless his dear heart, just chuckles and says, “That’s just Ma and Pa!” I love him, Abby, but I feel like I’m living in a fishbowl, constantly under the judgmental gaze of the ” elders.”
How can I politely, yet firmly, tell them to mind their own beeswax without causing a family ruckus that would surely be the talk of the Ladies’ Aid Society for weeks? I’m afraid I’ll lose my perfectly groomed temper!
Sincerely,
A Modern Homemaker on the Brink
Dear Modern Homemaker,
My, my, it sounds as if you’ve got yourself a classic case of what we call “over-cultivated family gardens.” Agnes and Clarence, it seems, believe your life is just another plot that requires their expert pruning and fertilizing, whether you asked for it or not!
Let’s address this delicate situation before you find yourself serving burnt toast and a side of bitter resentment at Sunday dinner.
The Gentle Art of Drawing Lines
First, your dear husband. While his “that’s just Ma and Pa!” attitude is sweet, it’s about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine. Have a quiet word with him, perhaps over a perfectly brewed cup of coffee (made to your specifications, of course). Explain, gently but firmly, that while you adore his parents, a little less “help” would go a long way in preserving your sanity – and your marriage. He needs to understand that a united front is essential, even if it feels a tad disloyal. Remind him that a happy wife makes for a happy life, and frankly, a less critiqued casserole.
Now, for Agnes and Clarence. This requires the finesse of a debutante at a tea party, combined with the quiet determination of a well-behaved housewife who knows her own mind.
- For Agnes, the Domestic Dictator: When she offers a critique on your spotless home, a cheerful yet dismissive, “Oh, Agnes, isn’t that just darling? I find this way works perfectly for our family,” should do the trick. If she starts rearranging your towels again, a polite, “Oh, please don’t trouble yourself, Agnes. I just tidied those!” delivered with a firm hand on the linen closet door, should send the message. Remember, a smile can hide a multitude of internal eye-rolls.
- For Clarence, the Unannounced Inspector: When he pops over uninvited, greet him at the door with a beaming smile and a slight hint of business. “Clarence, how lovely to see you! We were just in the middle of [insert any legitimate (or semi-legitimate) activity here – ‘polishing the silver,’ ‘sorting stamps,’ ‘balancing the checkbook’]. Do come in for a moment, but we’ll have to get back to it shortly.” Make it clear that while you are hospitable, your schedule dictates the visit. And perhaps “forget” to hear the doorbell once or twice. Accidents do happen, you know.
The Power of a Unified Front
The key, my dear, is consistency and a subtle, unyielding refusal to engage in debates. You are not asking for permission; you are politely stating facts about your home and your life. They may huff, they may puff, they may even try to garner sympathy from the bridge club, but eventually, they will learn that their unsolicited advice is bouncing off a perfectly polished, polite, but impenetrable shield.
Remember, a little distance often makes the heart grow fonder, especially when that distance involves a respectful understanding of personal boundaries. Now, go forth, reclaim your linen closet, and enjoy your perfectly adequate casserole. You’ve earned it!
Warmly (and with a wink),
Shirley
The Wit And Wisdom Of Horace B Miesner
The problem with reality is the lack of background music.
WRYL – The Voice of the Great Up North
Dearest Shirley,
I’m writing to you today with a pickle that’s more sour than a lemon in a lime factory. I’m a strapping young lad of 25, and I’ve fallen head over heels for a woman, let’s call her “Doris,” who’s, shall we say, enjoying her golden years at a vivacious 60. She’s smart, funny, beautiful, and makes a mean hot dish. We’re madly in love, and our private life is, well, blissful.
The problem, Abby, is the public life. Every time Doris suggests we go out – to a restaurant, a movie, even just a walk in the park – my stomach does more flips than a professional gymnast. I start spouting excuses faster than a politician before an election: “Oh, my car’s making a funny noise,” “I suddenly have to reorganize my sock drawer,” “My pet rock needs emotional support.” You name it, I’ve used it.
I’m terrified people will stare. I’m convinced my friends will point and whisper, “Look, there’s, let’s call me Henry, dating his grandma!” I know it’s irrational, and Doris is amazing, but the thought of those judging eyes just paralyzes me. I’m worried she’s going to get fed up with my hermit-like tendencies and ditch me for someone who isn’t afraid of daylight. How can I get over this ridiculous embarrassment and proudly show off the incredible woman I love?
Sincerely,
Closeted Casanova
Dear Closeted Casanova,
Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad, but not in the way you think! Your heart is singing, but your brain is stuck in a middle school cafeteria. Let’s unpack this fear of yours, shall we?
First off, congratulations on finding love! It sounds like you and Doris have something truly special, and that’s worth more than all the whispered gossip in the world. Now, about those whispers…
Here’s a dose of reality: Most people are too wrapped up in their own lives (and their own embarrassments, believe me) to care all that much about your age-gap romance. And the ones who do stare or whisper? Bless their cotton socks, they’re probably just jealous! Jealous that you’ve found genuine happiness, jealous that Doris is still so vibrant, or maybe just jealous they didn’t think of reorganizing their sock drawer.
Your friends? If they’re truly your friends, they’ll be happy for you. Anyone who mocks you for loving someone wonderful, regardless of age, isn’t much of a friend anyway. You’re 25, not 15. It’s time to realize that your worth isn’t determined by the approval of a few snickering acquaintances.
Here’s your prescription for public confidence:
- Take baby steps: Start small. Instead of a fancy restaurant, try a quiet coffee shop or a walk in a less crowded park. Get comfortable being seen together in low-pressure situations.
- Own it! When you’re out, hold Doris’s hand, put your arm around her. Act like she’s the most wonderful woman in the world (because she is!). Your confidence will be contagious and will signal to others that your relationship is nothing to gawk at.
- Practice your comeback lines: If someone does make a rude comment (unlikely, but hey, be prepared!), have a few witty retorts ready. Something like, “Love doesn’t have an expiration date!” or “She’s got more life in her little finger than most people have in their whole bodies!”
- Focus on Doris: When you’re out, instead of scanning for judging eyes, focus on her. Look at her, listen to her, enjoy her company. When your attention is on the person you love, the rest of the world fades away.
- Talk to Doris: She knows you love her, but she’s probably feeling a little confused, maybe even hurt, by your constant excuses. Be honest with her about your fears. A supportive partner can do wonders for your confidence.
Closeted Casanova, life is too short to hide the love you’ve found. Doris deserves to be shown off, and you deserve to enjoy her company wherever you please. So, dust off your going-out shoes, take Doris by the hand, and stride out into the world. You’ll be surprised how quickly those imaginary stares disappear when you realize the only opinion that truly matters is your own (and Doris’s, of course!).
Go forth and be fabulous!
Warmly,
Shirley
Things Our Mother Taught Us
My Mother taught me about Time Travel
“If you don’t straighten up,
I’m going to knock you into the middle of next week!”
This has been a public service announcement from WRYL
The Voice of the Great Up North
