Tag Archives: bizarre shit

controversies, lessons learned, musings

Judging a “lemon” by its rind…

I tried to stay pretty busy yesterday, and I mostly succeeded. I got off to a somewhat late start, as I woke up after 6:00 AM, which isn’t so common for me anymore. Then I made coffee, fed and cleaned up after Noyzi, and started a load of laundry. I did a longer cycle so I could focus more on yesterday’s rambling post that wasn’t particularly tight. While I’ll admit it was a stream of consciousness type post, it did turn out interesting, at least for me. As I read it, I had all of these memories of my younger days, when it seemed like I had forever before I would be considered “older”…

I actually needed some help getting started writing yesterday. There’s a lot I could write about, but I don’t feel knowledgeable enough at this point. And it’s not really what’s on my mind, anyway… I mentioned yesterday that I went down “Memory Lane”, starting with reading old posts about our move to Wiesbaden. I’ve written about that a lot, but I don’t know if I’ve conveyed just how totally difficult that move was to make. It seems like it was just a bad landlady/tenant situation, but it was really so much more than that.

That situation with our former landlady really drove home to me how easy it is to fall into true mind fuckery when you’re dealing with an abusive person. They can make you feel like you’re worthless, as if everything is your fault… or as if you don’t deserve better. It’s hard to break out of that mindset once you enter it. It’s so hard when you trust someone and they betray you, or they turn out to be someone totally different from the person they seemed to be.

Granted, in ex landlady’s case, I did have a subtle warning. There was something about her demeanor that tipped me off at our first meeting. Under normal circumstances, I might not have been so eager to rent her house. Actually, I wasn’t that eager to move into the house, as I was to finally be settled. The summer of 2014 was a very difficult one for us… from Bill’s Army retirement, to my father’s somewhat sudden death, to the very rushed international move to Germany after we found nothing viable in Texas… We were vulnerable.

In August 2014, we still had sharp memories of September 2007, when we spent six weeks in a grubby German Gasthaus in Vaihingen, where there was visible mold on the bathroom ceiling and the place reeked of stale cigarettes. Today, I would have insisted that we move to a better hotel, but we had much less money and experience in 2007, and Bill was fresh from the war zone in Iraq (which he spent with a narcissistic boss). Besides, that particular hotel was in walking distance of where Bill was working, and it was very dog friendly. So we stayed for six weeks. It wasn’t all bad, but I certainly didn’t want to do it again.

So, when we met former landlady, even though I had some mental misgivings about her, I took the former tenant and her husband at their word that she was “great” and my gut feelings weren’t “right”. That was a mistake.

Although it wasn’t all bad, just like our six weeks in a really crummy Gasthaus in 2007, it’s not an experience I’d ever want to recreate. Never before had we ever had such an intrusive situation with a landlord/landlady, even though I’ve seen lots of videos and written plenty of accounts of nightmare property managers, landlords, and landladies. We’ve have had other rental situations that sucked somewhat, but none as personally soul crushing as dealing with our previous landlady. What made it very different and so much worse was the former tenant.

It was one of those perfect storm situations… I’m a blogger, and I made the mistake of sharing my posts in a somewhat small community. People in the military community– I’m sorry to say– are not always the most open-minded people you’d ever meet. You’d think they would be, given how much and how often military folks move to places worldwide. I don’t mean to say that people in that community aren’t diverse, nor do I mean to say that everyone is an asshole. But there are a lot of people who have rigid mindsets about things. Someone who dares to write a blog called The Overeducated Housewife is automatically going to catch shit. 😉

I do know that some people down in the Stuttgart community got some good things from my writings. Quite a lot of people told me they tried restaurants I reviewed, or they visited places I wrote about. But there were so many who just wrote off my efforts because they didn’t like the name of the blog and lacked the desire to find out why I titled it the way I did. How dare someone refer to themselves as “overeducated”, even if they literally are for what they do every day? 😉

I don’t actually think I am “overeducated”. There is obviously a whole lot I don’t know. I also don’t believe that being “educated” is the same as being “intelligent” or “smart”. I just didn’t need to spend seven years in college to be a housewife. If I had known this was going to be my future, I wouldn’t have bothered with college or grad school… but then, I probably never would have met Bill, either. THAT is why this blog is titled as it is… and it came into existence several years before I started engaging with military folks who might be offended by it. In fact, the beginnings of my blog were very humble, as I didn’t even share my posts on Facebook. It took a long time before it evolved into anything people read on a regular basis.

Former tenant probably wouldn’t have been so involved in our situation if I hadn’t been a blogger. Our situation with ex landlady might have turned out like every other situation in which someone hands off a “lemon” to someone else.

Here’s a for instance. Back in 2003, Bill and I adopted an adorable beagle named Flea who had been abandoned in rural Virginia. Flea was a very fancy beagle. His original owner likely paid a lot for him. But, he got separated from the pack when they were hunting. When Flea was eventually found on the side of a road, he was skinny, covered in fleas and ticks, had Lyme Disease, and heartworms. The lady who rescued him got him cleaned up and offered him to a beagle rescue, as she also fostered him for them. The beagle rescue gave her money to get Flea treated for heartworms and Lyme Disease. When we met her, she’d seemed so nice and committed to Flea. But then it turned out she’d never completed his heartworm treatment. Instead, she pocketed the money for the second half of the treatment. So, when we adopted him, we were unaware that he still had heartworms.

Months later, when we discovered Flea’s heartworms weren’t all dead, we tried to contact his rescuer… who then promptly ghosted us. Flea also turned out to be quite a bit older than she’d said he was. Flea wasn’t a “lemon”, per se. He was actually a fantastic dog. But we got stuck dealing with his problems, because someone lied to us. Fortunately, the beagle rescue paid for him to be treated a second time for heartworms. However, heartworm treatment isn’t easy on dogs. I think it took a toll on his health in the long run. We had him for six years before he got prostate cancer, which eventually killed him.

Just like the situation with Flea turned out to be, I guess that former tenant felt the need to get out of her rental agreement with the ex landlady. And she was eager enough to get away from her that she wasn’t entirely truthful or forthcoming about her when we showed up looking for a place to live. We were sitting ducks… because we really needed a place to settle after a tough summer. Former tenant probably figured there was no harm in what she did… I’m sure she totally justified it. Fair enough. Maybe ex landlady really was as wonderful to her as former tenant claimed, and she really did just need to move closer to her job. There was probably even an element of truth to what she told us… but it wasn’t the *whole* truth.

I figure that if I weren’t a prolific and somewhat well-known blogger in the Stuttgart military community, former tenant would have just ghosted us, too. Ex landlady would have been “our problem”, even though the two of them were “friends”. Ex landlady probably would have complained and gossipped to her about us, but former tenant could have just laughed it off. She wouldn’t have been at all concerned about what I was thinking, saying, or writing. But because I was a somewhat well-known blogger, and she had loved Germany and was still following the community on social media, she couldn’t stop herself from following me… and she got upset that I was candid about our experiences.

Instead of realizing that I have the right to my opinions and perspectives and simply unfollowing me, former tenant felt the need to try to control me from afar. Not only did she deceive me, she also tried to silence me… and she seriously misjudged and underestimated me as a person. To her, I guess I was just a sucker who had the “audacity” to label myself “the overeducated housewife”. She probably thought I was just some silly twit– certainly not a match for her. She tried to take advantage of the fact that I’m basically a good person, using shame, obligation, fear, and guilt as a means of trying to fix the narrative. I complied with her for a time, but then wised up about what she was doing.

The irony is, if I weren’t a blogger, Bill and I probably would have been stuck paying for another lemon. Writers are recorders, so I had photos, blog posts, and bits of history that I could show proving the ex landlady’s version of events wrong. We probably would have won, anyway, but it wouldn’t have been quite so handily. Still, when all of that was going on, I felt like shit. I certainly had no desire to be on bad terms with anyone, nor did we want to sue anyone. But I’m also not about to be someone’s patsy.

As if that situation wasn’t bizarre enough… then I looked up former tenant last year. Curiosity killed the cat. I should have learned my lesson about not following people who show me who they are. That’s when I found out that former tenant took her own life. That makes me wonder about a whole lot of things… and it’s also left me with a burden.

All we had wanted to do was find a place to live in 2014. Now we’re left with this very strange chapter in our lives. We’ll probably always think about it and talk about it, and other people probably won’t understand. Some will even try to blame us, even though I only met former tenant in person a couple of times in 2014. Any interaction we had after we rented that house was initiated by her, after she read my blog. I doubt I had anything to do with her decision, but I don’t know. All I can think is that she had a lot of issues that led her to make a tragic choice. Her decision had ripple effects beyond her immediate family and friends that she’ll never even realize.

I never thought I’d ever be a blogger. I did like writing and likely would have loved a “real job” as a writer. But even when I was a teenager, I didn’t really let myself hope writing was how I could earn a living or make my way in the world. I used to have a lot of ideas and dreams about what my “adult life” would be. I figured I’d have a career and probably a family. As I got older, it seemed less likely that either convention was going to be in my future. I didn’t really date much, nor did I have great luck at impressing employers that would pay me a salary on which I could live comfortably.

Granted, after I finished graduate school, I might have managed to find a job to support myself properly. I didn’t really have a chance, as just after I graduated, I moved in with Bill, and six months later, married into the military lifestyle, with its constant upheavals. I was familiar with it, since my mom was an Air Force wife. But by the time I came along, my dad’s career in the Air Force was winding down. I didn’t know the realities, because my parents ran their own business for over half of my childhood.

I think marrying Bill was the right decision, and the best choice I could have made. But it definitely derailed the plans I tried to make for myself. I don’t think they were the right plans, anyway… but they were MY plans. And now I’m sitting here in Germany, writing this blog, wondering where it all went.

Yesterday’s post was a meandering stream of consciousness piece. It started in one place and ended somewhere else I hadn’t really meant it to go. Alex’s first comment to me kind of took me aback. He’d offered me consolation, which kind of distressed me. But, looking back at it today, I can see why Alex left a comment of reassurance. The end of yesterday’s post was about how I felt after reading the post that had inspired it. I was so very angry about the audacity of our ex landlady, treating us like we were the worst kind of people. It pissed me off anew, and brought up some old feelings of shame and worthlessness passed to me from someone whose opinion used to mean a lot to me.

No, I don’t mean ex landlady. I mainly did what I could to appease her, which I now realize was far too much. I mean my dad. I don’t think he hated me. I think he even loved me on one level. But he often treated me badly, and acted like he didn’t like me very much. He took out a lot of his frustrations on me, and treated me like an embarrassment. When I was a young woman, I realized that he was very often abusive to me, and that treatment shaped how I felt about myself. Some of that stuff still comes up today, as I try to stay out of trouble and hesitate to engage with people. I figure they won’t like me… and when some of them don’t, I get bitter and more reluctant to get to know people. When people treat me poorly, I remember it forever and hold it against them, even if their bad attitude doesn’t even have that much to do with me, personally.

There were a lot of times when ex landlady reminded me a lot of my dad. As a grown woman, I can now react in ways that weren’t safe when I was a child. I can speak out, for instance. So I often do. But doing that didn’t suit former tenant’s agenda, and I suspect she thought she could manipulate and control me. So she tried to do that, and I tolerated it for awhile… until I didn’t anymore, and the shit hit the fan. She took issue that I figured out what she’d done… passed off her lemon to Bill and me and expected us to see it as a favor. She wanted me to shut up and pretend I enjoyed the sourness of her lemon. Because it suited her, and her agenda. Who cared about how it affected us?! We’re just a couple of suckers and losers, right? Obviously, if ex landlady didn’t like us, it was entirely our fault, and it was our responsibility as Americans to make her like us…

What a load of shit that is. Seriously… I can’t even believe it! We’re supposed to tolerate abuse and PAY for the privilege, because former tenant is/was friends with the ex landlady, and she doesn’t want to offend her or anyone in her family? If there’s a problem, it’s not because of anyone but me… and it’s entirely my fault. Again… that’s a lot of bullshit that doesn’t even have the courtesy of smelling lemony fresh! I can’t believe we wasted a single year on that crap, let alone four!

Well… at least it’s over now. We did prevail. But, like the proverbial lemon, that situation left a sour taste in our mouths. I’m left a lot more wary than I once was. I don’t share things like I used to. I’m not eager to get to know people like I used to be. I trust people less. The memory of that ordeal leaves me a bit depressed on some level. And the fact that former tenant killed herself makes it all the worse, because now it seems like I should feel sorry for her. Or at least act like I feel sorry for her. Really, I’m just angry with her on many levels. I’m sorry she felt the need to off herself, but I also realize that I spent weeks agonizing, feeling totally traumatized and fucked up, and the truth was, I wasn’t the fucked up one at all!

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a believer in destiny… We were probably supposed to meet these people, and these experiences were probably supposed to happen. We’ll just have to learn from it, move on, and either keep our lemons to ourselves or be honest about them. Sometimes lemons are a good thing, after all. In the grand scheme of things, this particular lemon at least taught us to be wiser, and we got to see some beautiful parts of the Black Forest. So that ought to count for something, right?

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funny stories, Military, South Carolina

How some people call for an ambulance in the South…

Today’s post is going to be somewhat short, because Bill and I have some plans for today and we need to get a somewhat early start. So instead of going off on a coffee fueled sermon, today I’m going to write about an article I found puzzling on several levels.

Now, some readers know that I lived in South Carolina for about three years, and I am a graduate of its flagship state university, The University of South Carolina. Er… that’s where I went to graduate school, anyway. I am pretty familiar with the culture in the southeastern United States. I still had to chuckle this morning when I read about how a family found a pilot in their backyard.

The incident happened last Sunday. The pilot was flying a  F-35B Lightning II fighter jet , which belonged to training squadron of the 2nd Marine Aircraft Wing. It had taken off from Joint Base Charleston on Sunday afternoon and was doing a routine training exercise, along with another plane.

For some reason, the pilot ejected, and the aircraft, which is reportedly one of the most advanced fighter jets in the world and has a price tag to match, was left to crash on its own. The pilot landed somewhat safely in a backyard, while the jet was found in Williamsburg County, about 60 miles northeast of where the pilot landed. Because of its status as a very advanced fighter jet, the whole area where the plane crashed is going to have to be cordoned off and scoured, because that plane has a lot of classified information onboard that will have to be stowed somewhere safe (that is, not in Trump’s bathroom at Mar-a-Lago).

I’m certainly not going to judge the pilot for ejecting. He’s 47 years old, and presumably has a whole lot of experience flying jets. I do think that unless he has an extremely good explanation for ejecting, his career is probably over. But as yet, I don’t know why he bailed on the very advanced stealth fighter jet– a former part of one of the Department of Defense’s most expensive programs, costing taxpayers $1.7 trillion over its lifespan. I’m going to assume he had a very good reason that involved saving his own life. The article I linked did mention that the F-35s, for all of their gadgetry and aeronautic wizardry, seem to break down frequently. That might be what happened in this case. The pilot had mentioned there was a “aircraft failure”. I’m just glad the aircraft crashed in a wooded area where there, apparently, weren’t any people on the ground.

Whew… at least no one was seriously hurt!

What prompts me to write about this today is the way the residents of the home where the pilot landed called 911. It cracked me up. The caller said:

“I guess we’ve got a pilot in our house, and he says he got ejected.”

First off, this is a pretty bizarre thing to happen. So I can understand why the caller was hesitant to state for sure that they had a pilot at their house who had ejected. I’m sure the person was shocked. The 911 operator was also surprised and responded thusly:

“I’m sorry — what happened?”

But then came the very polite and hopeful request for the ambulance…

“We’ve got a pilot in the house, and I guess he landed in my backyard, and we’re trying to see if we could get an ambulance to the house, please,”

You guess he landed there? Is it possible he landed in someone else’s backyard and came to your house to bug you specifically? And now you’re “trying” to see if you “could” get an ambulance? It seems like such a very polite request after such a weird occurrence!

I’m kidding, of course. These folks were, no doubt, completely dumbfounded that this happened to them. It’s kind of like when you play The Sims, look up into the sky, and suddenly get killed by a falling satellite. It just isn’t something that happens to the vast majority of people. Life is strange. I get that. I still couldn’t help but crack up at the very courtly and civilized request for an ambulance.

The pilot then gets on the phone and explains:

“We have a military jet crash. I’m the pilot. We need to get rescue rolling. I’m not sure where the airplane is,” the pilot tells the dispatcher. “It would have crash-landed somewhere. I ejected.”

The pilot also said he had some back pain (I can imagine) and needed to be checked out by a doctor… naturally! So he went to the hospital and stayed overnight.

Now see, I read this and shake my head in wonder. The pilot fell about 2000 feet, parachuting into a stranger’s backyard, and still offered a response to 911 that seems much more rational and normal than his very polite surprise hosts did. If it were me, I think I would have been very surprised and animated. There might have even been some gratuitous profanity.

I can only wonder what the residents said as the pilot departed their home. Perhaps they invited him to drop in again sometime? Only next time, I hope he arrives at their house by land!

Hopefully, the pilot is okay in all ways and his career survives the impact of this crash landing… He certainly kept his wits about him. As for the people who called 911, I wish them well, too. Hopefully, there wasn’t any damage done to their yard when the pilot dropped in on their Sunday. The 911 dispatcher now has a call they can forever share with friends and family. Other than the plane crash costing taxpayers millions and generating work for the military, this story has a pretty happy ending. That’s always a good thing.

Well, I guess I’ll end today’s post and get dressed. We’ve got somewhere to go and something to do… (for once). Hopefully, no ambulances will be involved.

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animals, disasters, healthcare, Texas

When snakes and hawks attack out of nowhere…

Happy Friday, everybody. We have beautiful weather this morning. The sun is shining, and the weather report says the temperatures will top out at about 84 degrees, which is a bit warmer than it’s been, but still not super hot. I’ll take that over some of the weather I’ve been reading about in other locations in the world. I am, for damned sure, glad I don’t live in Texas anymore, even though I still vote there. The extreme weather is just one reason why I am grateful we’re not living there anymore. Another is because of the extreme wildlife in Texas.

This morning, as Bill and I were eating breakfast, I was reading The New York Times, and I came across the bizarre story of what happened to Texas resident, Peggy Jones, late last month. I’ve run out of free articles to share, so here’s the CNN link.

The reporter wrongly states that this happened on August 1st. According to other news sources and Wendell Jones’s Facebook page, it actually happened on July 25th.

Peggy Jones, age 64, and her husband, Wendell, have been married for 45 years, and they have four grandchildren. The couple own an investment property in Silsbee, Texas, which is about one hundred miles north of Beaumont. The property has been in their family since 1850. It takes about three hours to mow the grass– and that’s with tractors. But the mowing work has to be done, and Peggy and Wendell Jones have been doing it together without issue for many years.

July 25th seemed like an ordinary Texas day, with temperatures climbing into the triple digits. Peggy was out on her tractor, far from the treeline, mowing the grass. All of a sudden, out of the clear blue sky, a dark colored, four-and-a-half foot long snake landed on her arm. It immediately tightly coiled itself around her forearm. Naturally, Peggy started screaming bloody murder, while trying to remove the serpent, which responded by coiling even tighter and striking at her face. Fortunately, Peggy was wearing her glasses, so the snake’s bites weren’t making contact with her face.

As Peggy struggled to knock the snake off of her arm, her tractor continued to creep forward. She screamed for help but Wendell was in the front yard, and he couldn’t hear his wife’s cries. The noise from Wendell’s own tractor, and the sound of nearby traffic, were drowning out Peggy’s hysterical shrieks.

Then, just when Peggy thought things couldn’t get worse, along came a pissed off hawk, who had come to reclaim the unlucky reptile. Apparently, the mighty hawk had planned to have the snake over for dinner and wasn’t about to accept the snake’s regrets. 😉 The hawk swooped down and grabbed the snake, but it was wrapped so tightly around Peggy’s forearm that her arm was forced upward as the hawk tried to fly away with its uncooperative prey. Again and again the hawk unsuccessfully tried to take the serpent, beating its wings in Peggy’s face and obscuring her vision, as she tried not to fall off the tractor or get bitten by the snake.

Finally, after about four swoops, the hawk was able to recapture the snake. It flew off with its prize, leaving a stunned, shocked, and traumatized Peggy in its wake. She looked down at her arm and saw that the hawk had mangled it pretty well. Peggy’s forearm was covered in scratches, puncture wounds, bruises, and cuts, and it was bleeding profusely. She said the pain was incredibly intense, and she was still screaming and hollering when her husband finally became aware of what had happened.

Wendell hadn’t seen the joint snake and hawk attack, but he soon found his wife in complete hysterics. The two went to a hospital, where medical professionals cleaned and bandaged the wounds and gave Peggy a course of antibiotics. The story was so strange that, according to Wendell’s Facebook account of the attack, even the doctor wanted to know if Peggy was on some kind of hallucinogenic drug and had just imagined the whole thing. Fair warning. If you click the link, you will see a photo of Peggy’s torn up arm. It’s pretty gruesome looking.

According to the multiple accounts I’ve now read about this extraordinary incident, Peggy was sure this was how she was going to die… in what I think is an utterly absurd way. She screamed out to Jesus as she tried to survive the attack, not just by a potentially venomous snake, but also by a hungry and tenacious bird of prey with very sharp talons.

Peggy’s glasses were chipped from the snake’s repeated strikes, and they found a substance on them that might have been snake venom, although the stuff was never tested. Fortunately, the couple reported that Peggy never experienced any symptoms of a venomous snakebite that time, although according to the article in the New York Times, Peggy was also bitten by a different snake two years ago. I sure hope Peggy has good health insurance. This incident is probably going to cost a bundle in medical bills.

Naturally, Peggy’s trauma and suffering isn’t confined to just the physical pain of the injuries she received from the attack. She’s now having nightmares, and has said that they range from a re-enactment of the attack to seeing snakes all over the place in her dreams. Honestly, as someone who is a bit prone to having phobias, I can hardly blame her for being completely freaked out about this. How does a person even process such a strange situation, let alone recover from it? It’s like something out of the Bible. Or, maybe, a Desperate Housewives plot? It’s just insane! I think it would make me agoraphobic.

It just goes to show you that life can be incredibly weird. You never know when you’ll be faced by a completely crazy threat of some sort. Peggy was just trying to mow the grass when she got attacked by wild animals… and not even from the ground. Since when do snakes fly? We certainly wouldn’t expect to have one fall out of the sky, right? But apparently, Peggy says she’s seen hawks catching snakes all the time and dropping them on fences, only to come down and pick them up again. I guess it never occurred to her that she might serve as a “fence” to a snake with a strong will to live and a hungry and very determined hawk, who also wanted to live, and needed to eat…

Peggy and Wendell Jones have seen the hawk flying around their property and they think it lives nearby. Hopefully, it will keep a tighter grip on its prey, the next time it hankers for a hunk of snake meat. Or, at least we can hope that next time, there isn’t a human being there to break the snake’s fall.

I am very impressed by Peggy’s pluck, as instead of immediately finding a good guy with a gun to dispatch the hawk, she says “I consider myself to be the luckiest person alive… I was attacked by a snake and a hawk and I lived to tell about it.” She wasn’t just attacked by a snake and a hawk… but a snake and a hawk at the same time! That’s a story for her grandchildren to pass down… not to mention the doctors who treated her wounds. File it in the “now I’ve seen everything” category!

I’m sure if I sat here long enough and thought about it, I could come up with a life lesson or moral to attach to this situation. Something along the lines of, “you never know what will happen when you come between someone’s life and someone else’s dinner…” It seems almost oddly symbolic, too… given the crazy political situation in Texas right now, and how certain people in that state are preying on the weak and gentle to stay in power and keep being “fed” money and power.

This story makes me even more glad to be living outside of Texas… where there are literal venomous snakes, as well as political ones.

Well… that about does it for today’s fresh post. Got to talk to one of Bill’s colleagues, rescue the laundry, practice guitar, and walk the dog. Perhaps I’ll be back tomorrow… Perhaps you will be back, too.

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bad TV, celebrities, humor, obits, Reality TV

A fond farewell to Jerry Springer, a man after my own heart…

The featured photo is a screenshot of our television in 2012, when I was watching an episode of Jerry Springer in North Carolina.

Yesterday, after I wrote yet another heartfelt post that I suspect most people won’t bother to read in its entirety, I went off to do what I usually do on Thursdays. I walked Noyzi, then did the dreaded vacuuming, noticing that right on schedule, the ants have invaded the kitchen. This happens every spring and goes on for a few weeks. I vacuumed up the ones I could see, figuring they’ll be happy in the grey bin, where there’s lots of trash.

Then, after after I vacuumed, I turned on the robot mower and broke out the weed trimmer, giving the backyard a nice sprucing up. We’ve recently had a lot of rain, so the grass grows quickly. Our new rain barrel is collecting rain that will be handy in the summer, when it stops raining so much and everything shrivels up.

After I did my chores, I took a shower, ate some lunch, and promptly bit my tongue. Ouch! Then I started watching videos by H.G. Tudor, and got a bit lost in a new game I downloaded… Such is the life of an Overeducated Housewife. It wasn’t until later, when I called up one of my banks to complain about their inability to send me texts, that I noticed that famed TV host Jerry Springer had died yesterday in his home. He was 79 years old.

I know a lot of people joked about Jerry and his bizarre daytime television show, which started off a lot more conventional before it turned into daily theater of the absurd. There was a brief period in my life when I would, on occasion, watch Jerry’s show in the afternoons. They offered a break from the mundane. But I decided I liked him when I saw him host America’s Got Talent years ago… I think it was in the summer of 2007. Below is a direct quote from me, written on Facebook in 2012.

I ❤ Jerry Springer.

See how he treats Mary? This is exactly what I mean… He was so kind to Mary, and showed genuine concern for her. It was a side of him that I found very endearing.

It was on that show that I saw a very likable side to Jerry Springer. Then later, I watched his show, and realized that he was kind of the straight man, officiating among a cast of bizarre characters who never failed to make me laugh. There was something about Jerry that struck me as kind… and he would often inject humor or reality into the weird. He didn’t take himself too seriously, and would openly tell people that if they were on his show, they might want to re-examine their life choices.

There’s something to be said for Jerry’s honesty and self-awareness. He was a good sport.

From March 2011… is watching Jerry Springer. I forgot how funny this show is.

Jerry Springer was a bit like Charro. People didn’t take him seriously because of his entertainment style. He was laughing all the way to the bank, though, and he genuinely made people smile and laugh. Yes, one could argue that his show “made fun” of people who might be regarded by some as “freaks and weirdos”, but if you watched that show for more than ten minutes, you realized that the vast majority of people who were on it were totally in on the jokes.

From 2013… Watching Jerry Springer being interviewed by Rosie O’Donnell. I must say I have an odd appreciation for Jerry.

As you can see from my Facebook quotes, Jerry got me through some times. Our brief sojourn in North Carolina could be pretty dull for me, since we lived in the middle of nowhere. It got to the point during that time period when I would look forward to 4:00PM, when the grinding, electric guitars that started Jerry’s show would crank up, and Jerry would introduce the surreal topic of the day. Then, there would be a cast of people who looked like they were doing community theater… or maybe acting out Rocky Horror Picture Show, or something.

And from November 2011… I forgot how funny Jerry Springer is.

It’s been a long time since I last saw Jerry on TV, but I did read that even though he’d been ill, he was hosting a radio show in Cincinnati. It featured folk and Americana music. As is true for almost everybody, there was a lot more to Jerry Springer than met the eye. I never got to see his show, Judge Jerry, but I’ll bet he was awesome on it.

Um… it’s “ho”, not “hoe”. A hoe is a garden tool.
I used to fantasize about going to a taping of Jerry Springer’s show… LOL!

I’d much rather watch this shit on TV than read some of the comments on news articles. At least this shit makes me laugh instead of making me want to cry.

Oh my… American TV is really… something. I give props to Jerry for keeping a straight face.

Watching these old clips have made me laugh and smile again. It’s not often that I have genuine affection for TV hosts or politicians. I truly think Jerry was one of the good guys.

I must point out that the uploader gave this video an offensive name using the so-called “r word”. The actual episode was called “Burned By Love”.
“Hamburger Helper… for the woman I love.”

Anyway, I know it was bound to happen sometime, because death happens to all of us. And not everyone can live as long as Harry Belafonte did. Jerry had a pretty good run, though… I will miss him, and always appreciate the many laughs he sent my way. May he rest in peace.

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mental health, religion, tragedies

Switzerland and Utah have more in common than beautiful mountain views…

This post has to do with mass suicide. If you think you might be triggered, you might want to move on to your next Internet station.

The New York Times‘ headline said “4 Die After Falling From Balcony in Swiss Resort Town”. I was instantly curious, since I’ve heard the Swiss are even more anal retentive about safety and precision than the Germans are. Before I read the article, I said to Bill, “Someone is going to get sued into oblivion for this.” I said that because the headline made it sound like negligence was involved and I just assumed that a lovely family had plunged to their deaths because a balcony gave way. The strange truth was, this tragedy had nothing to do with a builder’s or safety inspector’s negligence. Apparently, these four people died on purpose. A fifth person remains hospitalized in serious condition.

The small group of people who died yesterday in Montreux, a beautiful resort town in western Switzerland near idyllic Lake Geneva, were not publicly identified in the article. However, the police believe they were French nationals and members of the same family, consisting of a 40 year old man, his 41 year old wife, his wife’s twin sister, and their 8 year old daughter. The couple’s 15 year old son somehow managed to survive the plunge from the seventh floor apartment from which they all apparently jumped.

When the article was published, the police were still trying to determine exactly what led up to the circumstances leading to this family’s fall from their balcony. According to the story, two police officers had knocked on the family’s door at about 7am. The officers were there to give the parents a summons involving the homeschooling of one of the children. Homeschooling is legal in Switzerland, but children who are homeschooled are still required to be routinely monitored by officials to determine their educational progress. When parents are out of touch with officials, police officers are tasked with issuing summonses. Evidently, this family was not allowing their homeschooled child to be checked.

After they knocked on the door, the police officers heard a voice from inside the apartment, asking them to identify themselves. Then, there was silence. As the officers were about to leave the building, a witness had called the police to inform them that people had fallen from a seventh floor balcony. A neighbor of the family’s stated that the family was very “discreet”. That makes me think that there was something weird going on, even before the adults apparently decided that suicide en masse was the answer to their problems.

I read some of the comments regarding this piece, and one lady posted that this story reminded her of an incident that happened in Salt Lake City Utah in 1978. Her comment is below.

This sounds like an instance in the 1970s involving a family who came to be known as “The Leaping Longos” after a mother and her seven children all jumped out of their hotel room window. It turned out that the father had killed himself the day before and their mother forced them all to jump in some weird type of suicide pact. They were practicing their own brand of religion based on the Mormon church and the father was also evading the authorities. 

This family likely all jumped to their deaths as well, but only after the authorities showed up. The authorities were only trying to establish what was happening with the children due to them being home schooled but it is very likely that they had something else to hide. Fortunately one son has survived, and once he’s able to talk about what happened I’m sure the full story will unfold.

The poor kid has become an orphan and I hope he’s able to recover because it would be even more tragic if he’s permanently impaired.

I was around in 1978, but I was a young child at the time. Obviously, I had never heard of the “Leaping Longos” before I read the above comment. I decided to look them up to see if there was any information about this family. Sure enough, I found the story after a couple of minutes of looking. Here’s a link to a 1993 era article by Deseret News about the lone survivor of the Utah incident. In that case, the lone survivor was a fifteen year old girl. Like the rest of her family, Longo changed her name; in the Deseret article she is called Rachel David.

On August 3, 1978, the David family (originally identified as the Longo family) made the bizarre decision to leap from an eleventh floor balcony at the International Dune Hotel in Salt Lake City. The family had been living in the hotel for about a year, when the patriarch, 39 year old Immanuel David (originally named Charles Bruce Longo), committed suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning. Three days after the suicide, 38 year old Rebecca David and her seven children either jumped or were thrown from the balcony. The lone survivor, Rachel, spent many months in a hospital before she was placed in foster care. She was wheelchair bound in 1993, when she was interviewed by the hosts of the television tabloid show, Inside Edition.

In 1993, Rachel David still believed that her father was God and would be returning to Earth. She also said that she had willingly jumped. She also said that she had been trying to follow the suicide order and, as of 1993, had attempted to kill herself many times. Another article, circa 2000, describes the survivor as “brain damaged”. At the time that article was written, Rachel David was still living with “remnants” of the House of David near Denver, Colorado.

Below is a screenshot of a news article that was written in 1978, just after this event took place.

Freaky story… I wonder if this French family was involved in a similar cult.

And here is a broadcast news item about the 1978 Utah incident…

I can’t even imagine how horrifying this was to witness…

Why do these culty types always gravitate to the name “Immanuel”? Especially when they have ties to Mormonism? According to the news report, David was an excommunicated member of the LDS church. The father was not employed at the time of his death, although according to the video, the bill for the $95 a day was paid on time and in cash, usually with $100 bills. The news story is astonishing, as the physician is very openly talking about the surviving girl’s injuries. We didn’t have HIPAA in those days.

As I listen to this surprisingly lengthy report, I’m confused by the discrepancies in the people’s names. According to the news article, the father’s name was Charles Bruce Longo, but this news report refers to him as Bruce David Longo. And then he changed his name, and all of the names of his wife and children were changed.

As for the French family in Switzerland, slightly more news has emerged about their apparently sudden and bizarre exit from Earth. Apparently, the mother in the French family was a dentist who had worked in Paris. Her sister was an ophthalmologist. The father worked at home. The family had been living in Switzerland for some time, and had residence status. The Daily Mail offers an article with some rather salacious details omitted from the more respectable newspaper articles. Apparently, the family used incense a lot, and ordered many packages. It will be interesting to learn more about why this tragedy occurred, and if this family has anything else in common with the “Leaping Longos” of Salt Lake City.

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