Tag Archives: High school

Arithmetic

dictionary with letter A

Arithmetic: (n) the branch of mathematics dealing with the manipulation and properties of numbers.

Arithmetic is definitely one of them.

It is one of the four basic skills required to maintain an adult life without constantly looking inept.

I wish I had known that when I was in high school. But fortunately, I did learn enough addition, subtraction, multiplication and division to handle my finance and everyday activities without always requiring a calculator in my hand, with numbers too tiny to punch.

Would you be curious about the other three?

Number 2. Reading.

Yes, often people ask us to read aloud–and if we stumble over words or are too slow, it is immediately surmised that we are mentally challenged.

3. Writing. Although grammar can be a naughty mistress or a nagging wife, there are certain qualifications necessary to be part of the human family. One should know that “you are,” as a contraction, is spelled y-o-u’r-e, not y-o-u-r.

If you are not familiar with several of these common mishaps-in-print, you will be laughed at by the snobs and bewilder the kinder folk.

4. Can you make a two-minute speech on your feet without spending 72 seconds of it explaining why you’re not good at it? We are a gregarious race, and demand that those around us have the ability to articulate their feelings without having too many a-a-h-s, umms, or … what was I saying?

Arithmetic is very important. Without it, things just don’t add up.

 

 

Donate Button

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

Apartment

dictionary with letter A

Apartment: (n) a suite of rooms forming one residence typically in a building containing a number of these.

When I run across people who appear to like me as I am today, I am certainly cognizant of the fact that if they had met me decades earlier, they would have disliked me totally.

Now, I don’t mean this to be either critical of my new-found friends or myself. I have taken a journey. Because it is a journey, the road was rarely straight and certainly never free of construction.

To a certain degree I can chronicle my progress and my respectability based on just a simple review of my apartment selections.

Graduating from high school and immediately getting married, I had no money, appreciation of money or desire to make money. I was of the firm conviction that high school should continue and all groceries should be supplied, and preferably, food prepared and set before me. Since I did not go to college, where such an arrangement is possible, everyone in my small town felt that I needed to become “responsible.”

I did not agree.

So my family, in an attempt to get me on the “strait and narrow,” rented an apartment for my new wife and myself, where we could live. It was quite lovely. It sat on the second floor in the middle of town and had several large rooms, which continued to mock us due to our lack of owning furniture.

We were able to stay there exactly forty-five days, since we had no money to pay the next month’s installment of rent.

At this point we were forced to go to a cheaper location, which also ended up having previous tenets. Cockroaches.

We had so many in our apartment that they began to be incestuous, leading to mutations and even the development of an albino clan. After a while, it was the cockroaches that evicted us from our apartment, feeling that we were unsuitable roommates.

At this point some success greeted my creative efforts, and we were able to move into a better apartment, and then a better one still. Finally, on about my fourth excursion into this cave dwelling, I was able to occupy an apartment where I could pay the monthly rent. It was larger, also had a dishwasher, and as far as I was able to tell, had no previous hairy-legged dwellers.

So every time I hear the word “apartment,” both a chill goes down my spine and a giggle in my soul.

For I realize that it is a benchmark of being a citizen in this country. And lo and behold, after awhile, I was deemed worthy of escaping apartments and live in a house.

God bless America, strike up the band, John Phillip Sousa is a great composer … and apple pie is the only dessert for a true American..

Donate Button

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

Anti-American

dictionary with letter A

Anti-American (adj): hostile to the interests of the United States; opposed to Americans.

If you will allow me to characterize an entire nation in the context of the growth spurt of an average human being, I would put forth that our country is presently in the midst of a seventeen-year-old, bratty, rebellious snit.

Anyone who’s had children and endured the pangs of adolescence will be familiar with the sneering comment coming from your teenage child: “It’s my life. It’s a free country. And if you love me, you’ll support me in my decisions.”

Honestly, we did not become a great country through finding a contortionist’s trickery to kiss our own ass. Our greatness is punctuated by the times we have discovered the fallacy of our own practices and pursued avenues to build a highway to better understanding.

To arrogantly insist that every suggestion that America might need to make some sort of constructive course correction is an attack against our nation is nothing short of high school insolence.

Here are three things I know about my country, I love about my country, and therefore insist that my country continue:

1. We believe in giving.

The minute we start thinking that we are too generous and therefore should take more, we will become the latest dinosaur.

2. We are a free country and therefore capable of changing our mind to better solutions.

I am sick and tired of having the Constitution presented as a docile, stagnant document. It has so far been amended twenty-seven times, and certainly shall be again.

3. We have stated on paper that we believe “all men are created equal” and that no one is better than anyone else.

Even though we’re catching up with our own high-sounding ideas through a bit of painful implementation, we have taken the bold step of declaring an eternal truth.

As long as these three principles are pursued by my nation, I will applaud and sprout a tear or two when Old Glory comes marching by.

When we retreat from them through cowardice or lethargy, I will be in the front of the protest, demanding we return to our standards … and risk being called anti-American by the lazy and ignorant riff-raff.  

Donate Button

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

Annual

dictionary with letter A

Annual: (adj,) occurring once every year: an annual conference

My first personal encounter with the word “annual” was in relation to a book in high school, filled with pictures of friends, which were frozen and sealed in the volume, precious and everlasting in the moment, yet eventually merely a source of taunting as age betrayed the visuals.

Yes, that’s the problem with the word “annual.”

I am somewhat convinced that the best way to destroy a human being is to introduce two words into their lives: next year.

Once we become convinced that we are the masters of our fate, and put things off into a new calendar, we have given ourselves permission to be distracted and defeated by the circumstances which stand in the way of such distant planning.

Matter of fact, I recently had a conversation with a gentleman who told me he was writing a book. When I asked him what he planned to do when he finished, he replied, “I don’t really know. But it’ll be a year or so before that happens.”

It’s amazing how 365 days can give us both solace and also thrust us into a perpetual hell of procrastination.

Can you imagine if Jesus had said, “Give us this year our budget and quotas…” instead of proffering the notion that twenty-four hours is the preferable span for achievement?

In fact, He suggests that thinking about tomorrow merely t

For after all, there’s nothing more sad than running across a poster for the “First Annual” something or other, only to realize that the “Second Annual” never happened.

I try to love everybody.

Those I am not capable of loving to the full degree necessary, I benefit by staying out of their way.

The only people I truly avoid are those who are confident … that next year will be better.

 

 

Donate Button

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

Amscray

dictionary with letter A

Amscray (v): (Pig Latin) to leave quickly; to scram

Patrick was not one of us.

I’m not exactly sure who “us” is, but old Pat certainly had resigned any position with the normal flow of the human race and had decided to take the body he stole from his parents and use it for strange causes.

It started when he was a junior in high school. Pig Latin became popular.

Now, I must confess that I’ve always found it annoying and pretentious–one of those things that if you chose to pursue, it was an admission that you had no life and little intention of ever socializing with others.

But Patrick was not satisfied to stop with Pig Latin. Sensing there was a whole barnyard of possibilities, he started trying to teach us cow calls and goose garbles.

When he got into llama language, I found myself, like others, trying to see him coming and racing to escape him on the other side of the school.

By the time we reached graduation, Patrick spent most of his time talking to himself in his animal tongues, and didn’t seem to mind in the least that no one wanted to be around him, completely enamored with his own creative conclusions.

I lost track of him for about ten years, but later found out that he had taken a position as Director of Operations at a Department of Motor Vehicles.

Considering the level of communication that normally goes on at a DMV … Patrick was perfect.

Donate Button

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

Allude

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Allude: (v) suggest or call attention to; to hint at

I don’t think there are a whole lot of things that frustrate and aggravate me to the point that I become a cantankerous old fool. Maybe I’m too prideful, but I think I’ve overcome getting upset over simple inconveniences.

But I will tell you–I absolutely hate it when people try to hint or allude to what they want instead of coming right out and asking for it.

Matter of fact, one of my sons, in his early years, had the history of doing this practice so much that whenever we get together we joke about it. When he was in high school, if he came in the room and I was eating ice cream, he would start by questioning me about the flavor or comment on how “lovely it appeared in the bowl.”

Obviously, he wanted some. But because it pissed me off that he was alluding to asking for ice cream, I played stupid and pretended I didn’t understand–which made him allude even more.

Having counseled many married couples over the years, I will tell you that the most common reason for the demise of a relationship is when people begin to believe that they have asked for something, but never really did. Just hinted at it, and assumed their partner picked up on the points.

  • There’s something powerful about the spiritual notion of “ask and ye shall receive.”
  • How about this one? “You don’t have it because you haven’t asked for it.”
  • Or a third: “Enter boldly and make your requests known.”

I don’t know whether we’re afraid of hearing a no, or if we just think we come across humble when we skirt the issue, trying to make it someone else’s idea to be generous.

But in the long run, human beings admire clean much more than they do the little escapades we attempt in order to avoid the simple process of making a request.

If you’re ever around me, don’t allude. It turns me into my mother and father … who could occasionally be of the grumpy sort.

 

Allowance

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Allowance: (n) a sum of money paid regularly to a person

I had to get out my educated pencil. (I am often glad that my writing tool sought higher education, since I didn’t.)

Having an educated instrument, I can take my meager abilities in mathematics and join with this smart pencil and come up with some fascinating figures.

Case in point: when I was eleven years old, my father reluctantly gave me twenty-five cents a week for allowance. Actually, he held a quarter out in front of me and always offered at least two or three regrets and four or five warnings about the value of money and how important it was to spend it wisely.

But you must realize, this was at a time when twenty-five cents would buy you five candy bars.

This was my allowance.

In comparison, when I lived in Hendersonville, Tennessee, with my children, I gave each one of them fifteen dollars a week. Making use of my magical pencil of intellect, I realize that this was very similar to the quarter I received when I was eleven. For now a decent candy bar at a convenience store can cost upwards to $1.50 to $2.00, and everything else is equally as inflated.

So which is better? To have a little bit of money with lots of possibilities, or have a lot of money with little possibility?

I also recall that by the time I reached my sixteenth birthday and wanted to go out on a date with a girl, my dad, who was now ailing from cancer, proudly handed me over a five-dollar bill for my first date. Similarly, when one of my young men in high school was going to be taking out a lady, it was necessary for me to give him three ten-dollar bills, which he still grumbled at, saying that he would have to really scrimp for dinner.

I know that the root word of “allowance” is “allow.” But even as a grown-up, I am learning that it is possible to simplify your finance even in the midst of raging increases. You don’t have to feel like you’re cheating yourself. Just “pass” on opportunities that don’t give you the payoff you desire.

For instance, when the alarming transition occurred and candy bars went from a nickel to a dime, I had to negotiate my purchases much more carefully, while waiting for the eventuality that my parents would catch on … and pop me up to fifty cents.

 

Aka

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

 

Aka: (abbr.) also known as: e.g.John Merrick, aka the Elephant Man

J. R. Practix.

That’s the name on my birth certificate.

But during a brief season of playing football, I was aka “Big Jon.” Matter of fact, through high school, I was “just Jon, without an h”. I often joked that I selected the name because I wanted to “get the h outta there.” Some people thought that was funny.

  • A tiny handful knew me as “the music guy.”
  • There were those in my town who acquainted my personage with “deadbeat.”
  • Aka “Daddy,” which became “Dad”–and on more formal occasions is even announced, “my Father.”
  • Aka “Studly,” even though that was used so infrequently that I’m embarrassed to bring it up, but still, willing to propagate the myth.
  • Aka “Composer.”
  • Aka “Vagabond.”
  • Aka “Writer.”
  • Aka “Preacher”–though I was never actually able to embody the look or attributes of a parson.
  • Aka “Musician”–though I must bow my head in the presence of the true clerics of chords.

Then came grandchildren. So …

  • Aka “G-Pop.”
  • Three of my sons were adopted in my heart as god-children, and they chose to refer to me as “Pop.”
  • Aka “Husband.”
  • Aka “Lover” (in generous moments by forgiving females)
  • Aka “Business man” (unless you look at my books)
  • Aka “Traveler” (Just check my odometer)
  • Aka “Human being,” of which I am most proud.

I realize today that I have so many names associated with me that if I had a driver’s license to match each one, I would look like a criminal on the lam.

And speaking of lamb, I recommend it … with mint jelly.

 

Adrift

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adrift: (adj) 1. of a boat or its passengers, floating without being either moored or steered. 2. Of a person, being lost or confused.

You see, I think we have a quandary. We have to learn how three words are quite different:

  • Uncaring
  • Bohemian
  • And peaceful

When I graduated from high school, I didn’t want to be normal. I had studied “normal” through twelve years of the educational system. Now, I was not critical of it. Those who found it appealing were not my enemies, but I did not get in line to take my number, waiting to be “the next one served.”

I found myself adrift. Those around me believed I was uncaring.

Not knowing what to do, I basically chose to do very little. Truthfully, I didn’t do enough to survive–at least, financially. The critics rolled in their opinions. Family was enraged. Friends deserted me.

I was on my boat and decided to float for a while instead of feverishly paddling or hooking some sort of motor up to my life so I could troll the waters of existing social acceptability.

I knew what I liked. I liked music, I liked performing and I liked writing. Was I good? Honestly, it was difficult to find out because I was always dodging the bullets of my pistol-packing townsmen, who were determined to “gun down” my laziness and put me back into submission with the grown-up way of thinking.

Yet I resisted.

Because I didn’t paddle and try to resist the tides and currents, I bumped into a lot of things, did some damage and appeared to those around me to be Bohemian.

“Adrift,” by definition, connotes a loss of control. But you see, I believe the GREATEST loss of control was giving it to someone else, who held my life as a timecard and asked me to punch in for permission to eat and breathe.

It took me about eight years to finally blend my motivation, talent, purpose and opportunities together, to come up with a lifestyle which was acceptable to those around me because it possessed some sort of pay stub.

I never resented those eight years that I was adrift. They were painful, often stupid, frightening, lonely and occasionally enlightening. They gave me the determination I needed to set a course and right my ship in a direction to follow my dreams instead of toe the line.

So even though “adrift” may seem to be a negative posture for any vessel, be it nautical OR human, for me, it was an oxymoron: a meaningful aimless quest.

Accredited

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accredited: (adj.) of a person, organization or course of study officially recognized or authorized: e.g. an accredited chiropractic school.

I often chuckle when people ask for a resume. Have you ever thought about it?

A resume is a statement of what you’ve already done–which reeks of “has-been.” Or it insists on what you desire to do, which sniffs of being  a “wannabe.” But it certainly proclaims that you’re not doing much right now. Otherwise why would you be looking for a job?

A resume is humbling–but it is where people expect us to pull out all the information that is accredited:  all the schools we attended which have the seal of approval; all the companies we’ve worked for which have some sort of visual recognition to the reader, and all the skills that fall within the spectrum of society’s present favorites and understanding.

I don’t have a college education. Due to a mixture of ignorance on birth control and persistence to honor the pregnancy of my girlfriend, I found myself launched into adulthood right out of high school, trying to acquire my pedigree in the dog-eat-dog world. Once I decided I was not going to cannibalize by eating my fellow-dogs, I lengthened my journey toward success.

Yes, sometimes there are short-cuts, but they take you through the woods where you generally run into the Big Bad Wolf.

So I tried to work on ME. I gave myself two great gifts. Here they are:

1. Don’t assume you’re good enough. There are always new ways to try new things to tap new talents to create new possibilities.

2. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Such comparisons always lead to judgment, criticism and self-delusion.

Once I started working on myself and stopped critiquing others, I got better. In the process of getting better I also got older.

It’s amazing. Some people don’t even CARE if you’ve been to college once you cross your thirtieth birthday. By the time you’re forty, they don’t even ask, unless they’re nerds.

What they want is what every human being wants: “Excuse me. Do you have anything in your knapsack that will make my journey easier?”

So I try to always bring along a provision to cover my needs and a little extra for those who forgot to pack for a rough hike. It gives me a sensation of being “accredited.” My fellow travelers look at me and say, “Thank you for taking on the burden of caring for yourself–and for giving enough of a damn to bring an extra portion for us.”

I have nothing against formal education. But the thing about “formal” is that eventually the prom is over. You need to slip on work clothes instead of long dresses and tuxedos. “Pomp and Circumstance“ stops and the new song is “Whistle While You Work.”

It’s what really makes us accredited. It’s what makes a resume leap off the paper and appear to be filmed in 3-D.

So get your education–and with all your “getting” of knowledge, acquire some wisdom. And with that wisdom, have the generosity to pull your load.

And bring along an extra sandwich for a stranger.