Today is September Day, the day where Earth, Wind, and Fire fans get together and celebrate the song September, the group's 1978 hit song.
In the first line, lead singer Maurice White asks the question, "Do you remember the 21st night of September?" which is why this is "September Day" for Earth, Wind and Fire fans.
The song is an upbeat, joyous celebration of a time when "love was changing the minds of pretenders" and how "hearts were ringing in the key that our souls were singing". An NPR article calls the first line "the one question that can get the whole family on the dance floor."
Kenny Davis, photographer and blogger, wrote this wonderful tribute to "September" on his blog in a style I can only hope to duplicate someday. When I told him that I wanted to write like him when I grew up, he said, "No you don't, because you don't want the deranged mind that creates this nonsense." (I reminded him that all writers are somewhat deranged. :-) )
When the song's co-writer, Allee Willis, asked Maurice White, "What does 'ba-de-yah' (in the chorus) mean? White's answer: "Who cares?"
Apparently, the majority of fans couldn't have cared less. The song peaked at number 8 on the Billboard charts in February of 1979. Allee Willis said that Maurice White taught her her greatest lesson in songwriting: never let the lyric get in the way of the groove.
"September" is an original song included on The Best of Earth, Wind and Fire, Vol. 1. I played that album in heavy rotation on my sister's stereo as a teenager. (Even then, I had a writing playlist. I would type on a manual typewriter while listening to a set of albums that would drop, one by one, onto the turntable. Since vinyl and record players are now making a comeback, I no longer have to explain what a "record player" is.)
In 2018, "September" landed on the Library of Congress' National Recording Registry as a "culturally, aesthetically, or historically significant recording".
So, since today was "September Day," I found the video on YouTube and played the song. I can always use something upbeat and infectious (especially since I need to catch up on dishes, laundry, and other stuff today).
Afterwards, I sat down at the computer to do some work and do some play (not necessarily in that order) and while on the computer, I watched the latest episode of Ken Burns' "Country Music".
When I see the name "Ken Burns" on a documentary, I know I am in for a treat, and I have not been disappointed so far with "Country Music".
The episode I just finished watching ends with the death of Patsy Cline. She was 30 when she and three other stars of the Grand Old Opry died in a plane crash in March of 1963. Over photos of her funeral, the soundtrack played her signature song, "Crazy", and the narrator, at the end, said that it was the number one jukebox recording of all time.
And after hearing it, in its entirety, for the first time, I understand why.
It is a heart-wrenching lament for a lost love, a woman who knew she'd lose him but just can't get over him . . . and she knows she's crazy for it. If you are a person pining for a lost love, this is the go-to song.
When I finished listening, I wanted to go cry. And I am not even lamenting a lost love that I know I will never get back, but who I still love.
It, too, is on the Library of Congress' National Recording Registry.
From a song that celebrates the joy of a memory of a night in September, that leaves you wanting to dance on a dance floor . . .
To a song that will leave you weeping on that same dance floor . . .
Yes, today is a "crazy" day in September.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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Saturday, September 21, 2019
Monday, September 2, 2019
Making donuts and selling oil
"Time to make the donuts!"
If you follow me on Facebook, you've probably seen me post that line at one time or another. A church friend who follows me on Facebook recently asked, "Who do you make donuts for?"
After I finished laughing, I explained, and here's an expanded explanation of what I do when I "make donuts".
I proofread deposition transcripts for civil cases. I work from home. The people I work for are a court reporting firm in another state. Most of the transcripts they send me and that I proof are along the lines of auto accidents, malpractice suits, workman's comp, and the like. The shortest transcript I've proofed is about nine pages. The longest has been over 300 pages. I don't think I've gotten to 400 pages yet.
Because of the nature of the work, most of the assignments I get have a next-day turnaround time. I often feel like Sam the Baker in this Dunkin' Donuts commercial, especially at the end where he is meeting himself coming and going. So when I was ready to go to work, I started posting on Facebook, "Time to make the donuts!"
(In fairness to the people that run the firm I work for, I imagine they often feel like Sam the Baker as well. And the woman in charge now has infant twins. She probably feels like she is constantly "making donuts" in a sense.)
A Facebook friend who has also been in the court reporting industry led me to this job after I talked about the student loan debt I'd run up being in court reporting school. After I told the person in charge who I was, who'd suggested me, and my school experience, she started sending me work. I work as an independent contractor and therefore, I get to report my earnings to the IRS every tax year. (And if I am ever tempted to cheat, there are two things that will stop me: One, Romans 13:6-7 commands us to pay our taxes. Two, I am married to an IRS employee.)
When I get paid, I look at the amount and drool, "Oooh, money!"
Then I think of the student loan debt and groan, "Ohhh, bills."
Then I remember another Bible verse, Romans 13:8: "Let no debt remain outstanding."
And then I go to the Wells Fargo website and pay the bill due. :-)
In addition to making donuts, there's another metaphor that applies to the work I'm doing right now and why I'm doing it.
In 2 Kings 4, the Bible tells the story of a widow who cried out to the prophet Elisha that her husband's creditor was coming to take her two sons as slaves in payment of a debt he owed.
Elisha asked, what do you have in your house?
She said, nothing but a small jar of olive oil.
He told her to ask all her neighbors for empty jars -- a lot of empty jars, not just a few. She was then to shut the door behind her and her sons, pour oil into all the jars, and set each aside as it was filled.
She did that. The oil kept flowing until she was out of jars.
When she told Elisha what she'd done, he said, go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.
God has not seen fit to rain down money from heaven. But he has provided me with a way to "sell oil" and "fill jars". The "oil" I sell is my skill as a proofreader. The people I work for gladly fill my jars with work. :-)
There are other "jars" that get filled due to the people I work for and the work I do. My "jar" gets filled with money, and then that "jar" gets emptied into the bank account of the United States Department of Education. (I sometimes think that that jar is more like a bottomless pit, but that may be another blog post for another day.)
Because people have legal needs, and those needs must be documented, there will always be a cycle of "jars" to be filled: depositions that generate transcripts, then transcripts that go to scopists (the people that edit them), then edited transcripts that go to proofers, and then proofed transcripts that go back to the lawyers.
On the days I feel like Sam the Baker, I also try to remember that in a sense, I am a "widow" with "jars full of oil" that I can sell to pay off debts.
So, next time you see me post about "making donuts", not only am I making donuts, I am also filling jars with oil in order to sell. And for that, I am grateful.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
If you follow me on Facebook, you've probably seen me post that line at one time or another. A church friend who follows me on Facebook recently asked, "Who do you make donuts for?"
After I finished laughing, I explained, and here's an expanded explanation of what I do when I "make donuts".
I proofread deposition transcripts for civil cases. I work from home. The people I work for are a court reporting firm in another state. Most of the transcripts they send me and that I proof are along the lines of auto accidents, malpractice suits, workman's comp, and the like. The shortest transcript I've proofed is about nine pages. The longest has been over 300 pages. I don't think I've gotten to 400 pages yet.
Because of the nature of the work, most of the assignments I get have a next-day turnaround time. I often feel like Sam the Baker in this Dunkin' Donuts commercial, especially at the end where he is meeting himself coming and going. So when I was ready to go to work, I started posting on Facebook, "Time to make the donuts!"
(In fairness to the people that run the firm I work for, I imagine they often feel like Sam the Baker as well. And the woman in charge now has infant twins. She probably feels like she is constantly "making donuts" in a sense.)
A Facebook friend who has also been in the court reporting industry led me to this job after I talked about the student loan debt I'd run up being in court reporting school. After I told the person in charge who I was, who'd suggested me, and my school experience, she started sending me work. I work as an independent contractor and therefore, I get to report my earnings to the IRS every tax year. (And if I am ever tempted to cheat, there are two things that will stop me: One, Romans 13:6-7 commands us to pay our taxes. Two, I am married to an IRS employee.)
When I get paid, I look at the amount and drool, "Oooh, money!"
Then I think of the student loan debt and groan, "Ohhh, bills."
Then I remember another Bible verse, Romans 13:8: "Let no debt remain outstanding."
And then I go to the Wells Fargo website and pay the bill due. :-)
In addition to making donuts, there's another metaphor that applies to the work I'm doing right now and why I'm doing it.
In 2 Kings 4, the Bible tells the story of a widow who cried out to the prophet Elisha that her husband's creditor was coming to take her two sons as slaves in payment of a debt he owed.
Elisha asked, what do you have in your house?
She said, nothing but a small jar of olive oil.
He told her to ask all her neighbors for empty jars -- a lot of empty jars, not just a few. She was then to shut the door behind her and her sons, pour oil into all the jars, and set each aside as it was filled.
She did that. The oil kept flowing until she was out of jars.
When she told Elisha what she'd done, he said, go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.
God has not seen fit to rain down money from heaven. But he has provided me with a way to "sell oil" and "fill jars". The "oil" I sell is my skill as a proofreader. The people I work for gladly fill my jars with work. :-)
There are other "jars" that get filled due to the people I work for and the work I do. My "jar" gets filled with money, and then that "jar" gets emptied into the bank account of the United States Department of Education. (I sometimes think that that jar is more like a bottomless pit, but that may be another blog post for another day.)
Because people have legal needs, and those needs must be documented, there will always be a cycle of "jars" to be filled: depositions that generate transcripts, then transcripts that go to scopists (the people that edit them), then edited transcripts that go to proofers, and then proofed transcripts that go back to the lawyers.
On the days I feel like Sam the Baker, I also try to remember that in a sense, I am a "widow" with "jars full of oil" that I can sell to pay off debts.
So, next time you see me post about "making donuts", not only am I making donuts, I am also filling jars with oil in order to sell. And for that, I am grateful.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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