It is one of those days where I’ve written about every historical act of notability, which occurred on this date. At least once. It probably happens more often than not, and I just repeat myself without knowing it, here in my writing.
But today, I am certain I’ve written about Victoria Woodhall and the fact that she was the first female to be nominated as a candidate for the presidency in the United States in 1872.
I’ve covered “the golden spike,” driven into the ground in Promontory, Utah, to connect the Transcontinental Railroad in 1869.
Washington being appointed. Jews being mistreated. And all of the other wars, mutinies, discoveries, and arrests.
So, I turned to the magical “random word generator.” I ask it for three random words, and I will write about them, no matter what. First blow.
They came up: show, bacon, insurance.
Show.
The word is so diverse. It leaves me wide open. I can show you anything here, with this word. Memories of my first Broadway Show or the time I was nearly shown to the door at a production of Jesus Christ Superstar.
But instead, I will write about my first “Show and Tell.” I am not sure what grade I was in when the production came about. But I do remember having a certain buffer of time to prepare for this caper. And it was a caper. I can remember coming home, looking at my toys, my clothes, and thinking, “I am an object of obscurity.” Of course, I didn’t know those words, but it was along the same lines. While I felt very glad for all the things that were my things, none of them were very remarkable.
My ball glove. My Fisher-Price Little People. A Sock Monkey. My mostly hand-me-down clothes. Those were my things. So, I took my dilemma to my parents and thought maybe I could take a coin or a stamp from my Dad’s collection. I’m not sure if Dad was simply not too crazy about me taking one of his fine collectibles or if he wanted me to show something of my own.
Instead, he decided to teach me how to collect stamps and started me out with a variety of ordinary stamps he had in bulk. A bunch of foreign stamps, too, that he must have got in some kit. He taught me how to put them in their little sleeves and attach them to the collector page and on. I loved doing that with my Dad, and I was pretty juiced the day Show and Tell came around, and I could show my stamp collection.
But that’s where it ended, truthfully. It seems, left to my own devices, I had no interest in collecting stamps. I don’t know what happened to that little shoebox full of my first collection. My Show of Shows.
Second word: Bacon
I can tell you that bacon was like some sort of magical meat growing up. We were a fried egg family. Every day, fried eggs. And most days, we would get fried bologna with those eggs. Every day, really.
However, on Sundays, we went to my grandparents’ house for breakfast. Bacon ruled there, and my grandfather was very particular about how that bacon was fixed. You could almost still hear the pig squeal. To this day, if and when I eat bacon, I do not like it crisp. Not even close. My grandfather left an indelible mark on me, in that way. My Bacon Chronicles.
Third word: Insurance
I have it, and I am glad to have it. I’ve used it numerous times to pay for things like shattered windshields or hernia operations. I hear horror stories on TV about people having insurance nightmares or no insurance at all. I hope I never fall into those categories. As has been my experience, once I meet my deductibles, everything else falls into place.
But as we know, insurance is a thing providing protection against a possible eventuality. And unfortunately, there is no assurance about those eventualities.
And that is all I have for now, on show, bacon, and insurance.
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The purpose of human life is to serve, and to show compassion and the will to help others.
— Albert Schweitzer
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It is our choices… that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
— J. K. Rowling
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I follow three rules: Do the right thing, do the best you can, and always show people you care.
— Lou Holtz
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Three little words including bacon.
