On Sunday I recorded the Oscar ceremonies so I could watch it later. It struck me that this is just the latest (albeit the most publicized) of these ‘self aggrandizing, self congratulating’ episodes.

I watch mainly to see who won the best actor, best actress awards, and to see the beautiful designer gowns. Many of the women, or so it seemed, were engaged in the latest contest to see who could look the weirdest or show the most skin. 

Considering the time and effort this extravaganza takes, I would have been happy just to have had the results emailed to me. I must confess to one thing though. I’m always intereted in who won for best screen play.

When our daughters were in jr. high school and high school in Fort Worth, Texas, we became a magnet for a growing number of young men.

Invariably, they would descend upon us every Sunday just as we were starting our after church meal. That’s when I knew I had to find a way to fill them up without either bankrupting us or forcing me to spend the whole afternoon in the kitchen.

Enter the taco, the perfect solution. The girls would each prepare a portion of the ingredients; cutting up the onions, cooking the tortillas, chopping up the cheese and tomatoes. I had only to cook the meat. By adding honey liberally to the tomatoes, we  created a taco that was not only delicious, but whose juice ran freely down the arm of the person eating it.

Over time, the ritual developed into a contest among the young men to see who could consume the greatest number. I feel astonished, even today, that anyone could eat as many as thirteen tacos,   but that was the record.

This past Sunday the Shaw Family (of Las Vegas); daughter Cynthia, son-in-law Jeff, granddaughters Morgan, Lauren, and Catie, plus grandson Michael, came for Sunday dinner. The taco tradition has continued with the families of our five children, so naturally that was our menu.

In addition, we had college age granddaughters Amber and Callianne from two of our other children, plus Lauren’s boyfriend and Michael’s girfriend.

I could never have handled such a crowd, but everyone pitched in, and quickly prepared each of the ingredients. We had a blast.

Viva la Taco

The other day I read something that caused me to cringe. I feel compelled to offer my reaction to this, and let you form your own opinion.

The writer of this off-putting piece quoted someone as saying that a certain brilliant individual “does not suffer fools gladly.” While this particular bit of ‘praise’ was being heaped on an entertainer, I have read this phrase many times in the past in connection with some aupposedly intelligent educational or political leader.

Imagine someone wanting to establish how intellectual, how far above the crowd this particuolar person is, how he/she surrounds himself/herself only with those who could be considered as mental equals. Certainly by inference, if not in fact, this puffed up phony obviously looks down on those of us who aren’t on his/her ‘level.’

The gross hypocrisy in such a statement should be obvious. It infers that those of us who can’t see this vastly superior individual’s point of view are, by definition, ‘fools’.

The truly gifted, the truly great leaders are those who are humble in the biblical sense. I was, upon reading this comment, reminded that compared to Him who died on calvary, we are all fools. Yet, can anyone imagine Him placing any of his earthly children in such a category?

I’m well aware that there are isssues out there which someone might feel dwarf my irritation over the above mentioned quote, but I had to get it off my chest. Color me lucky to have a forum in which to do it.

Thanks for listening.

On one occasion, I was doing a book signing in a rural community of about 48,000. Arriving early, my husband and I had an opportunity for an informal talk with the woman who owned the store. She had a very unusual story to tell us.

A couple of months earlier, a middle-aged man had come in and asked her to recommend a good romance novel. The owner recommended one of mine. A week of so later the same man returned with the same request, a good romance novel. Again, the owner sold him another one of my books.

The owner was very surprised when the man returned for another book of the same kind. The woman,  already curious about his two previous visits, asked if his wife was enjoying the books. His reply startled her. “Oh,” he said, they’re not for my wife, I bought them for me.”

He hastened to explain. “These books saved my marriage. It had been on the rocks, when I decided I had to try something that would help me understand what woman like. It worked. We’ve never been happier.”

I’m flattered to say that there are a great many men who are faithful fans.

Perhaps your husband or boyfriend would benefit from reading one of my books.

Tonya, my friend and fan, called me today. She said her husband Roger had become impatient for my next book and wanted her to call and see when a new one was going to come out. Fortunately I was able to ease his pain. My latest book will be available by the end of next week, both on Amazon and on my website: www.aleneroberts.com. For some reason it works best if you enter it on the browser line.

Anyway, I was thrilled that Roger’s interest was still strong after reading all of my previous books. How did Roger come to be such a fan? It happened when they were driving to Denver. Tonya was immersed in one of my books and Roger (probably from boredom) said; “Why don’t you read it to me? Tanya did, and Roger was hooked.

After that, he would never let her read one alone, they had to do it together.  Even when she was in the kitchen, fixing dinner, he would follow her around reading it to her.

I never cease to be amazed (and grateful) at the number of male readers I have. Try one on your own husband.

My next blog will expand on this subject. Don’t miss it.