Chemistry

Chemistry: (n) the complex emotional or psychological interaction between two people.

Who would ever have expected that hydrogen and oxygen could blend together to make water?

Of course, hydrogen has to bring twice as much of itself to the mixture to make it work. It is H2O.

Yet the two separated do not resemble the combined.

It’s a great principle of relationship. As long as two parties insist on maintaining their integrity without any merger of purposes, then
 nothing really ever happens. In this day and age, we’ve become obsessed with individual achievement, therefore limiting the possibility of mutual effort.

And sometimes, just as with water, somebody has to give twice as much to make it work. But the end result is something valuable–something commonly put into practice.

What is the chemistry of spirituality? Is it God reaching for man, humans reaching for God, or humans reaching for one another and therefore finding God?

What is the chemistry of politics? Is it the power of the vote choosing excellent candidates who enact great ideas, or might it be the great ideas determining what candidates receive the votes? Or has it become the candidates telling everyone how to vote while setting aside great ideas?

What is the chemistry of education? Is it teaching facts, hoping that those who hear them will turn them into action? Or is it displaying action and stepping back to study the facts?

Just as in chemistry, if the unit of oxygen decides to try to be equal to the two units of hydrogen, then you have H2O2–which is hydrogen peroxide, which is not recommended for drinking.

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Chemical

Chemical: (n) a compound or substance

The medical field is hampered by two delusions:

  1. There are chemical cures for everything.
  2. So much progress has been made that it should be trusted.

Both concepts make the health field insipid and often dangerous.

Medicine is the lady and the tiger. Do you remember that story? You come upon two doors, and you’re told that behind one is a lady and behind the other is a tiger. If you open one, you receive pleasure; open the other, you chance death.

This is where we are in medicine.

As long as we’re taking poisons in an attempt to heal disease, hoping that those poisons will not destroy all of our good parts, our solutions will remain Neanderthal.

I, for one, have taken medicine and gotten the lady. I felt better and by the grace of healing, I was able to continue my life. I’ve also taken the same chemicals and gotten the tiger, and been cast into even deeper sickness or infection.

Somewhere along the line, as we study, we will realize that the power of healing is regeneration. It’s why we’re studying stem cells–living tissue encouraging dying tissue to live again.

It works for the alligator which loses its tail–and the more we understand in our treatments that this is the answer, the less we will appear to be merely alchemists.

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Chef

Chef: (n) professional cook

“Vanity, vanity, kitchen is thy name.”

You may note that I have altered the adage.

It does not matter if it’s a man or woman–if you start talking about cooking, the reaction falls into two categories:

  1. “I don’t cook, I will never cook, I will not touch a pan. Serve me.”
  2. “I’m such a good cook, people think I should start my own restaurant.”

Folks get very nasty about their ability to stir sugar in with spice to make something nice. They’re convinced they have the best recipe for any delicacy.

This is confirmed by dozens of shows on television, with chefs competing with one another for the honor of being chief cook and bottle washer.

What is it about the human race that causes us to believe that we have a passable ability to serve a meal instead of the overwrought notion that our platter of “pleasables” should be offered to wine and dine kings?

Do you really have the best barbecue sauce in the country?

Is the secret to a great turkey to deep fry it?

Are green beans better with almonds?

Does the extra thirty seconds of whipping the egg whites truly make a better meringue?

Is hot sauce the universal elixir for “delish?”

Even if we can convince all the brothers and sisters of Earth that we are alike, equal and that no one is better than anyone else, after that meeting is over, there will be someone who will insist they should cook the victory meal–because they’re a better chef.

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Cheesy

Cheesy: (adj) cheap, unpleasant, or blatantly inauthentic.

Wow, did you read that definition?

I guess Webster was really loaded for bear against “cheesy.”

Blatantly inauthentic?? Well, that would mean that each one of us would actually know or be acquainted with what is authentic.

We are not.

Everybody has their own taste in “cheesy.” (Please forgive that offering.)

In other words, if you go to a fundraiser, fighting some disease, they will drag all sorts of pitiful people in front of you to tell their stories of debilitation to
establish the need for contributions. This is not considered cheesy because…well, I guess because it is trying to help sick people.

Traveling on the road, I see a myriad of local TV commercials which try way too hard to be entertaining while inserting inordinate amounts of information in a thirty-second capsule. I might consider them cheesy, but the people involved would just declare them a “sales strategy.”

Sometimes I go to church and they bring the children’s choir up to sing “Jesus Loves Me,” as the adults feel compelled to ooh and aah, or say “Amen,” or worst of all, stand for a cheesy ovation. But it’s not really–it’s our kids, after all.

But then something comes our way that we are not invested in, is not our livelihood, and did not come from our loins, and we suddenly turn into critics, calling it maudlin, silly or cheesy.

Everyone is fully aware that without reaching the human heart, it is unlikely that you will impact our race. And what touches our emotions is rarely deep or convoluted. No, it’s some sort of kitty-cat video, where the little pussy runs across the frame chasing a bit of string and suddenly runs into a wall.

We giggle, embarrassed, and then repent by whispering, “Be careful, little kitty…”

The human race is cheesy. We are moved by the simplest of sentiments and absolutely baffled by complex interpretations.

You can feel free to act aggravated or high-falutin’ when you see something that yanks on your feelings, trying to pull you in the direction of glee or tears.

But without these gentle reminders of goodness and wonder, we become animals, growling at each other across the rain forest.

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Cheery

Cheery: (adj) happy and optimistic.

The human race works feverishly to explain why being “cheery” is impractical, while simultaneously pursuing any way possible to be happy.

Maybe we should stop and ask ourselves, is it plausible to be happy without being cheery? Therefore, might “cheery” be a step in welcoming
 happiness?

But in today’s theatrical world, cheery characters are often portrayed as obnoxious assholes, and those who are darkened by doubt and plagued by pessimism are extolled as glorious anti-heroes.

Let me ask a quick question:

When have you ever sat in a room with a Gloomy Gus, walked out, and thought to yourself, “That was time well-spent.”

But in spite of your objections, you probably have been in a room with someone who has tried to look on the bright side, who infected you with a bit of their jubilance.

Humanity is plagued with the notion that the antidotes provided for our sickness and misery are just placebos. We contend that commiserating, bitching, objecting and even cheating are the only ways to grab the brass ring.

Of course, we never consider what the purpose is for the brass ring in the first place. Instead, we make the mistake of imitating our Mom and Dad … as we usher our grouchy parents into retirement.

 

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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Cheerful

Cheerful: (adj) noticeably happy and optimistic

At least a dozen times this week, I’ve heard the sentiment expressed.

Sometimes it is phrased, “It’s the least I could do.”

On another occasion it was uttered, “Well, at least you could…”

Since the human race is lazy, somewhat disconnected and suffers from being lost in oblivion, let us discuss what is “our least.” What is the bare minimum that we
 need to bring to this journey to make it enjoyable for us and tolerable for those who surround?

  1. Listen until you’ve heard before you speak.

We spend too much time thinking we know what people are going to say and leaping in with our opinions. Wait for a period. How about this? Wait for them to take a breath before you advance your insight or objection.

  1. If you’re in a bad mood, show up quiet.

A complainer can silence a room of praisers. You may think what you feel is important, but if you wait a few minutes, the energy of others just might lift your spirits.

  1. If you are feeling cheerful, don’t be obnoxious.

Folks have aches, pains, fears, and maybe even bad news they are carrying. Give them a chance to recuperate from their damage.

  1. And finally, sustain.

What you’ve set out to do, what you’ve decided to feel and the way you wish to live–carry it through to at least the end of one day.

There’s a power in being cheerful, and that power is that it unleashes the possibility of problems being solved instead of merely debated.

 

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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Cheer

Cheer: (n) a shout of encouragement, praise, or joy.

She was so pretty I couldn’t look at her.

Looking at her would mean that I saw her.

Seeing her would connote that I was worthy to drink in her attractiveness.

And there was always the danger that she might see me looking, and be stuck peering at my plainness.

Her name was Deborah Lee. She was a cheerleader.

She was a cheerleader for all the right reasons–not because of school politics or because the advisor decided to grant her the position to fulfill some sort of ethnic or body-type quota.

She was pretty, personable, perky, present, plentiful and … well, perfect.

I don’t think she ever knew I lived or breathed until one day she was sitting in a corner by herself on a chilly morning. It seems that every time she was around the cold, her legs would get red and blotchy. I never noticed. But for some reason, she felt vulnerable and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was embarrassed about her funky limbs.

I didn’t know what to say, so as was my custom, I said something stupid. “Deborah Lee, you’re so pretty that no one would ever notice your ugly legs.”

I don’t know whether she just felt generous, but she laughed and she laughed and she laughed.

From that day forward, she actually smiled at me in the hallway and would occasionally make eye contact across the width of the cafeteria.

At least I thought she did.

I was playing on the basketball team. I wasn’t the best player. I wasn’t even friends with the best player. But I started because I was big and they thought I would scare the opposing team and get rebounds.

One day I actually got the courage to shoot at the basket instead of retrieving it and handing it off to Billy, our star player. After I made my second basket, I heard Deborah Lee’s voice, chorusing with the other cheerleaders, “That’s okay, that’s alright. Come on, Big Jon–fight, fight, fight!”

I didn’t know whether to cry or wet my pants, but water was definitely going to come out somewhere.

I was so distracted by this cheer of approval that I didn’t score another point and dribbled the ball off my foot three times.

I never went on a date with Deborah Lee. We just remained friends. She never got to cheer for me again because I never achieved that level of excellence.

I concluded that there are people who do better if their work is not cheered on and applauded.

The appreciation is too much to handle and becomes a distraction.

 

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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Cheek

Cheek: (n) either side of the face below the eye.

To write or not to write–there is the question.

As a scribbler of ideas, my “ham” needs to be “let” out at just the right time. Should I talk about butt cheeks? Or take the higher road and
turn to the other cheek?

I could do both. Perhaps the concept the Sermon on the Mount intended us to employ was to moon people, and then allow them to smack our ass. Unlikely possibility, but certainly tickles my innards.

“Yes, my children, when you run across people who mistreat you, pull down your pants and show them your gluteus maximus. And if they decide to slap it, turn the other one to them.”

Of course, I don’t really feel this was the original meaning.

No, there was once a person who walked the Earth who thought it was better to offer the soft tissue of the face, to be bruised, rather than striking out with mayhem and murder.

You can’t break a cheek. It just bruises.

And in that split second–when you decide to turn the other cheek–you let people know that you continue to take the stance of being non-violent, buying time for reason to enter the soul of your adversary. Therefore he or she might give up the attack.

It is risky.

But it certainly is not as risky as reaching up quickly to remove the eye from your enemy, trying to see through your bleeding socket.

 

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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Cheddar

Cheddar: (n) a kind of firm smooth cheese, originally made in Cheddar in southern England.

Although I am not Gulliver, I have had my travels.

They’ve taken me to Wisconsin.

Somebody made the claim that there are more cows in Wisconsin than people. I suppose if you count the people who look like cows, this would be even more impressive. I digress.

At every small town and every truck stop there’s a cheese display. They also offer various types of sausage and meat products to accompany this delight as chasers.

And of all the cheeses I’ve tried over the years, I must say that cheddar is the one we should probably put into the time capsule for the future, when a high cholesterol food like cheese will no longer be allowed.

It represents.

I’m not trying to tell you it’s the best cheese. It would not be my preference on my back-yard burger. I would opt for something like Swiss. But if I am honest with myself, Swiss tastes like cheese that was cured in a sweat sock.

Cheddar, on the other hand, has all the flavors–like milk, curds, whey–made in a cottage somewhere by a buxom woman who sure in the hell knows what it means to be milked.

I don’t love cheddar, even though the more well-dressed versions of it–what they refer to as “sharp cheddar”–better suit my palate.

In my opinion, if you’re trying to describe or prescribe a cheese, cheddar will carry the banner quite well.

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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Checkup

Checkup: (n) a thorough examination

A writer certainly knows, when he submits his material to an editor, that he or she needs to prepare for critique. You can’t keep your job as an editor if you read stuff, smile and say, “Looks good to me.”

I’ve never taken my car to a mechanic without this technician finding something wrong with the vehicle. There’s no money, work or future for a mechanic who admires your car.

If you go to an investment banker, he or she will certainly explain to you why your present rate of consumption and your lack of a retirement plan is jeopardizing
 life and limb.

Likewise, arriving at a doctor’s office is an invitation to be dissected–sometimes literally. Although you may insist to yourself that you’re merely going in for a checkup, after they have fully analyzed all your numbers, they will most assuredly recommend some sort of tune-up.

Sometimes if you don’t take them seriously, they will foretell your doom and gloom if you ignore the diagnosis.

Between you, me and the fencepost (and I’m not so sure I trust that piece of wood stickin’ out of the ground) it’s a racket. The American health system is in the business of putting us through tests that we most certainly will fail.

Because without us failing, medication cannot be prescribed, drug companies will lose their profit margins, and financial institutions–where we have invested our money–will not make much dividend.

So in a strange sense, we give $100 to the medical field so that the drug companies and Wall Street can prosper through ailments, and at the end we receive $2.20 of our original money back in dividends in our IRAs.

Is this a good deal?

Of course not.

But welcome to the glories of capitalism.

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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