Sunday, November 11, 2012

It's Over


The Presidential Election of 2012, that is.  Seriously, who couldn’t empathize with the four year old little girl from Fort Collins who broke out sobbing when she heard just one too many negative ads for “Bronco Bama” and Mitt Romney?  Talk about going over the cliff!

I was right there with her.  And her parents don’t even let her watch TV!  She was reacting to the NPR blog.  Tell me, how many of you just immediately muted the campaign ads as soon as they started?  I hated them.  And, I’m in a HUGE Blue State.  I can’t even imagine what it was like in the nine battleground states.

Who are those ads for????!!!  I knew who I was voting for four years ago.  As did a whole lot of others.  Really, who was “undecided” a month ago?  How independent are the Independents anyway?  I’ll bet 90% of them knew long before last week.  Who was truly influenced by those ads?  I don’t have a clue.

Ahhhh....how quiet last Wednesday was....except for the 500 Christmas ads.  I’m probably going to wear out my mute button.

But, as of Tuesday night, the electorate spoke.  Pretty clear to me!  Get on with the business of the People!  Oh, and who are the People????  Just look at the differences in the Obama and Romney supporters and voila! there it is!

The segregated South I grew up in is done....DONE!  Oh, I know you’re thinking we haven’t had separate institutions for a long time.  Wrong!  Just spend a day in an urban aka minority high school and a day in a suburban predominantly white high school and you’re going to get one helluva education.  And, believe me, you’re going to prefer the suburban education!!

For years, our country has undereducated our minority youth and it plays out in the most insidious ways....pick an institution....jail--welfare--mental wards--unstable families.
Most probably, it’s a smorgasbord of all of them.  It is almost unheard of to buck these overwhelming odds.

For years, I worked in urban politics....organizing and getting out the vote in a 90% black district.  Most of the time, I was bringing them to the polls to vote for someone who didn’t look anything like them.  There was a natural distrust between these two very different cultures.  Understandably so, since neither side had no meaningful contact with the other.

Put yourself in their shoes.  Why vote for someone who just doesn’t get it?  Someone who goes back to their 4 bedroom colonial with the perfect family and a Lexus and Escalade in the driveway.  Someone who doesn’t have to worry about his next door neighbor breaking in to rob him so he can go out and get another hit.

And then came Obama with the Hope and Change message.  It provided much needed and long overdue hope that minorities and women can be at the seat of power and represent the people who have way too long been underrepresented.  It has changed our country forever.

And for four years, the people who needed that message watched while Obama was beaten down...not like dogs in Mississippi...but with words that attacked his character, his commitment to minorities, his inability to solve the vast problems he inherited from arguably the worst president ever to serve.  God himself couldn’t have balanced that budget in four years.

Even I lost faith when he couldn’t get legislation passed to let the Bush Tax Cuts on the wealthiest citizens expire.  I’m not happy that he couldn’t get a single payer health care reform but I’m thankful we at least started the changes with Obama Care.  Way overdue.

And I’ve listened to the other side espouse “fiscal responsibility.”  Rather hypocritical now, isn’t it?  When Bush was given an unlimited, unconditional credit card to attack preemptively a country that hadn’t attacked us?  Over a speech that claimed Iraq had weapons of mass destruction when they didn’t???  You disappointed me, Colin Powell.

How upsetting it is to see Facebook friends call the President a liar, a socialist, a Muslim.  OMG, the list is endless.  And pointless now.

Even in the face of the Supreme Court’s Citizens’ United ruling that treats corporations as private citizens, the people spoke.  It is absolutely obscene the amount of money that was spent in this election!

Karl Rove’s super PACs spent $400 million and lost every race save one lone Indiana Congressional race giving the PAC about a 1% return on their investment.  But, does he back down?  Nooooo....  First, it was Hurricane Sandy’s fault.  Then, he claims it would’ve been a blow out for Obama save for the big money from his PAC.  Now, he’s sunk to new depths blaming Obama for “suppressing” the vote.  REALLY???

Then, there’s LInda McMahon, the WWF billionaire who spent almost $100 million of her own money trying to take Joe Lieberman’s Senate seat in Connecticut.  But, the voters decided to send a Democrat instead.

I hate attack ads and Obama put out his fair share of them.  But, I actually take some comfort in that after seeing John Kerry swift boated for his exemplary military service.  I’m tired of seeing wussy Democrats.  Stand up for what you believe in!

Like I said, I grew up in full blown segregation....where most black people didn’t vote because why should they?  Who was representing their interests?

Those days are gone.  Even in my blue state, I waited on line for 35 minutes.  I have never waited more than 5.  I can’t even imagine that people waited for more than four hours to have their voice heard.  It was just that important to them.

Four years ago, I thought that election was the most significant in our history.  But, I’m rethinking that.  I think the 2012 election was truly momentous.  2008 was not an anomaly.  This is our future.  The underrepresented are growing in numbers.  They are not going to sit on the sidelines ever again.

This country is moving FORWARD!







Thursday, October 18, 2012

"Tis the Season


No, no, no....not Christmas...Fall!  Yeah, I know you can go into almost any department store and see tinsel and tree trimmings but who can not love the beauty of Fall?

I grew up in Florida so I never had a clue what autumn was.  After I graduated from Florida State University, I moved to New England to see what it was all about.   Oh, wow, that first year was exactly how Hawthorne and Dickinson described it.  The Green Mountains covered in vibrant shades of yellows, oranges and reds.  Nothing short of brilliant.

What I didn’t get was that winter relentlessly followed what was commonly the brief respite of fall.  So, for me, fall was a huge downer because tons of snow and ice and high heating bills were right around the corner.  My first winter there it snowed on October 17th and I didn’t see the ground again until late April.  What the hell have I done?

I love the South, the beaches, the warmth....not wild about the politics but that’s just me.
After 13 years of frigid weather outside the house and inside the house, I moved to Maryland.  Soooo much more reasonable.  In 28 years, we’ve had two winters that rivaled New England.

My negative attitude toward fall has mellowed.  When the kids were little, we did the hay rides and pumpkin picking at local farms.  We’d stuff scarecrows and seat them on the front stoop.  Kevin would carve the scariest pumpkins on the street.  He would wear his Nixon mask, sending the trick-or-treaters and their parents screaming from the house!

The kids are long gone, but fall has arrived.  The days are shorter and crisper albeit warm and sunny enough to drive in the country with the top down.

Fall is a slow cooker pot roast Sunday watching the Ravens squeak out another win.  Fall saw Orioles fans glued to the American League playoffs seeing them take the Yankees to five games only to lose in the end.

Steve and I found two blue grass concerts in the area, both interrupted by pouring rain, although the weather put no damper on the music.  It was foot stomping great!  However, I was a little uncomfortable with the Confederate flags on sale.

Last weekend was the best!  We drove out to Linganore Wineries for a wine tasting.  I wasn’t sure how it worked so I asked.  “For $5, you taste 16 different wines, but for $10, you get the wines and a chocolate pairing.”  No brainer.  I’ll take the chocolate.

Sixteen wines???  I like wine but one glass makes me woozy.  Each tasting is about 1/2 ounce so it adds up to eight ounces which is more than a full glass.  Plus, really, Maryland wines?  Trust me, it’s not like California, Oregon, Australia or France.  Maryland wine is just okay....not great for one with a discerning palate.  Perfect for me who after the first two wines, probably couldn’t tell the difference.  Definitely not a wine connoisseur.

We sat down and we got a grid that described the 16 wines and the chocolates that go best with them.  I’m ready...let’s get started!  For the next hour, our waiter poured the wines and we sipped.  We actually bought two wines--a strawberry that is fabulous with chocolate and a white zinfandel.  Seriously, I don’t ever drink white zinfandel but this was dee-lish.  Of course, I have no discerning palate and it was about the 10th wine in the series.  God knows what it really tastes like!

Today, we’re off to Fresh Market to get what we need to make mulled cider.  It’s another one of those gorgeous, sunny fall days which is supposed to extend way into next week.

What’s the plan for the weekend?  Well, there’s a reggae concert at another winery.  We’re off!!!





Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Go O's!


In March, Steve and I attended a spring training game in Sarasota....Boston Red Sox vs. Baltimore Orioles.  The O’s were terrible; Boston easily clobbered them.  I’m thinking...Oh, great, another dismal season for the home team.

I’m not a huge fan of baseball.  It’s too slow, too long, too boring.  Truth be known, I refused to let my son play the game when he was a kid because it just took way too much time.  I heard horror stories from other moms about sitting in the dark for hours waiting for the final inning.

In our household, it was soccer and basketball...case closed...games that ended in an hour.  Perfect!  Especially for a working, single mom.  Don’t get me wrong.  I loved to see my kids play.  I just didn’t want to make a career out of it.

Of course, it’s practically un-American to not let your kids play baseball.  Probably un-American to not play football either.  That was taboo in our house for another reason.
Too violent.  I know, I know.  Too pollyanna-ish.  I don’t care.  My son to this day loves soccer and basketball.

But, I live in Baltimore, home of the Orioles.  After the new stadium was built 17 years ago, I went a few times.  Mainly, because I love the stadium...not necessarily because I was into the game.  I love the food....Boog’s BBQ, chicken fingers and fries, hot dogs.  Yep, I love it all.

For the past 15 years, Baltimore hasn’t had a winning season so the packed stadium gave way to the few hearty O’s fans that never gave up.  One of them was Steve.  He went to most of the home games and even traveled to see them on the road.  Now, that’s a real fan.  Me?  No way.  Fair weather fan all the way.  I don’t even love the game to begin with so going to watch them lose was no draw for me.

So this summer, I went with him to the games or we tuned in at 7:30 to Maryland Sports Network.  As usual, they won their first few games.  Always the way it’s been before they start losing and losing and losing some more.  This season, however, was completely different.  They kept winning and winning, even on the road.

They had their ups and downs but you could never count them out.  Sooo many games went into extra innings.  They lost the first two then won 16 extra inning games.  16!  We happened to be at a day game on September 13th that went to 18 innings!  It was like getting a second game for free!

My favorite extra inning game was on July 5th against the Red Sox.  The O’s sent every pitcher they had into the game. Eight pitchers had come to the mound.  Finally, they sent the designated hitter, Chris Davis, in to pitch.  I kid you not!  Evidently, he used to pitch when he was an adolescent so he got tapped.  He asked the catcher what to do and he replied, “Throw strikes.”

And he did. He pitched two scoreless innings and won the game!  Well, he became my favorite player and now he’s hit home runs six games in a row!

There are no prima donnas on this team.  They keep fighting back and now have ended up 1 game behind the dominant, big moneyed Yankees.  They’ve picked up veteran players other teams gave up on and picked up  players barely out of high school and somehow it’s working.

I saw today that Buck Showalter, the O’s second year manager, is up for manager of the year.  Ya think???  Every team he’s managed have had miraculous comebacks in no time!  He never smiles, he talks in a monotone but he’s a miracle worker!  He must be the most inspirational guy in the locker room and a stooge for the cameras.

This team even has a winning record against the hated Yankees!  Tonight is the Orioles last game of the season.  If they win and the Yankees lose, they’ve tied for first in the East Division of the American League.  They’re already in the play-offs but how sweet it would be for them to win their division.  It’s a long shot but it’s not impossible.

Tonight’s the first presidential debate and the last Orioles regular season game.  The debate will result in more polarization, as it’s wont to do.  The O’s game?

Baltimore has a winning team.  No matter what happens, this season has given this city a team to cheer for for the first time in 15 years.  We are united!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I'm Done


I hate it.  I’m totally fed up with it.  I’m talking about violence.

As you know, I love, love, love the movies!  I see at least one a week.  AMC has the Tuesday matinee for seniors for $6.  So, yesterday, I went to see The Master.

Another eagerly awaited epic by Paul Thomas Anderson starring a pretty decorated threesome:  Philip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phillips, and Amy Adams.  Of course, epic means LONG...as in two and a half hours long.  It better be really compelling!  I should’ve read the Time review first....he captures it in the title.  There Will Be Boredom.  A take-off of Anderson’s movie, There Will Be Blood.  It was and I swear I almost walked out three times in the first hour but decided to stay after Hoffman finally came on.

Make up your own mind.  Most of the critics loved it...the fans who write reviews loved it.  But that’s not my point today....that’s just an aside.

As much as I love the movies, I abhor going to AMC and Regal where they show 30 minutes of previews before they ever get to the feature.  The preview to Brad Pitt’s new movie, Killing Them Softly, was disgusting....grotesque...all violence.  I almost choked on my popcorn.

I just don’t get it.  He and Angelina are the world’s biggest do-gooders but they can put out some of the most violent movies on the market.  Hell, they met playing a married couple who are world class assassins in their secret private lives.  Yeah, they love to play spies, criminals, cops, thieves, Nazi hunters....you name it.  I know they’ve played better roles like Angelina as Marianne Pearl in one of the most horrific real life stories and Brad as Billy Beane, the Oakland A’s General Manager in Moneyball.

But, you’d think that as “enlightened” as they are in their life choices, it might carry over more often to their movie choices.  God knows, they don’t need the money!!!  But, I applaud them for their humanitarian efforts....Angelina for her work with the United Nations on Refugees and Brad for the Make It Right Foundation that is constructing 150 homes in the Ninth Ward in New Orleans.  And, that’s just a fraction of the causes they actively support.

But, the bottom line for me is that I just don’t for the life of me understand how violence is entertaining.  I hate it.  I can’t watch it; I often find it sensational and depraved.  I don’t want to spend a dime of my money perpetuating that unfortunate reality that violence makes money.

Yep, I know.  I’m a pollyanna.  I don’t get war either.  I understand that some wars were “necessary” although I could argue that, too.  Yes, I know we need to have a strong military.  But, I find the wars we are currently in are just not necessary.  We are not the Police of the World and, God knows, our democracy is imperfect at best.  True democracies emerge from the people not from a huge military presence.

These wars are over oil.  Geez....turn down your thermostat and drive a hybrid!  Get a wood burning stove.  Open the windows, turn on the fan.  Wear thermals!!  Do we really need to get involved in conflict after conflict and watch our young men and women come home maimed or in body boxes?

So, that’s it.  I’m done with violent movies.  The ones I can stomach at the big movie theaters are diminishing by the week.  And, now, I can’t even watch the previews!!!

Sad to say, thoughtful movies usually don’t make the big money so there are fewer and fewer of them.  I’ll be there, though.  There’s nothing like a great story brought to life on the big screen.  By the way, don’t miss the French film,  The Intouchables!  Best movie of the year!


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Re-Connection


When I retired three years ago, I made promises to myself.  I would work out every day..cardio and strength training...fight those flabby arms!!  I would write, even if it was just stream of consciousness stuff...which is pretty much what blogging is all about.

I would become a Life Master in bridge.  Little did I know that it would determine my travel itinerary as I flit from state to state playing in tournaments.  I also never would have guessed that the game would bring me a best friend and life partner, who just happens to be a great bridge player.

Check off the promises about traveling and finding someone to share my life with.  Forget about eHarmony and Match.com and SeniorMeetPeople.  Just take bridge lessons and start playing in clubs....and be patient.  There are a lot of nerds out there but I’ve always been partial to nerds anyway.

I would go on a spiritual journey.  What did I really believe anyway?  Why are we so disconnected?  Why are there so many competing groups even within the same faith?  Why does man go to war over religious differences?  How is that spiritual?  You get the point.  There’s a lot to sort out there and, God knows, I don’t have the answers.  But, I wanted to find faith.

I also made a promise to reconnect.  Once I got married and had children and worked full-time, my life was a whirlwind.  There was just no time for staying in touch with old friends.  What’s ‘down time’?  Even on the weekends, there were soccer and basketball games, grocery shopping, laundry, yard work, house cleaning.  Basically, every night I dragged myself to bed too exhausted to even make a phone call.

And, finally, I had put in enough years that I could retire and call my time my own.  Is there anything more precious than time?  Maybe, health.  Can’t argue with that.  

I wanted to get back in touch with my high school girlfriends after rarely, if ever, seeing them for over 40 years.  In fact, the first time we got together to celebrate our 40th high school reunion was at a beach in Charleston, South Carolina.  There were eight of us.  Uproarious....fabulous food, lots of wine, a yoga lesson, shopping trips.  And, stories.  Lots of stories.  Imagine eight women telling their life stories in four days.  The best line from that trip:  “We can all get together next year and tell the same stories and nobody will remember.”

And, so we have.  Every other summer, we pick a beach.  Yes, we have to pick a beach because we’re all from Florida!  We’ve gone to the Gulf Coast of Florida twice and St. Simons in Georgia.  We catch up on children and grandchildren and husbands and lovers.  We play cards, walk the beach, drink our red wine and eat dark chocolate.  We do not talk politics and religion as we are as divided as the country is.

The highlight of last summer was going to St. Armand’s Circle in Sarasota and shopping at Terra Nova.  We all fell in love with the same dress and each of us bought one in a different color!   We added hats and shoes...OMG!  It was sinful.  We went back at least three times.  Did they love us!

Then, there are my friends I started teaching with 25 years ago and began a tradition on our 50th birthdays by going to HIlton Head Island for a week.  We’ve gone back for our 55th, our 60th and this past summer our 65th!  Can you say 70??!!  More beach, more wine, food, dark chocolate, and laughter.  Sounds a bit hedonistic but...oh well, let’s just enjoy it as long as we can!

And, now, I’m heading up to New England next week to pick up my friend, Annie, in Boston and take her on a road trip to meet up with two friends that she hasn’t seen in almost 20 years.  Then, on to see her daughters in Vermont and Massachusetts that I haven’t seen in way too long.

Yep...probably more wine and dark chocolate...lot of stories and laughter.  Does it get any better than this??





Wednesday, September 5, 2012

My Mantras


God knows, in your lifetime, you’ve read gazillions of lines or adages or truths and every now and then one appears that just speaks to you.  That has happened to me exactly twice.

The first time was when I was 18 years old, a college freshman, in a VERY liberal arts, VERY small college....maybe 500 students...and I was introduced to The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.  Let me tell you, this was not part of my southern religious upbringing.  That was religiosity; this was spiritual.  It spoke to me LOUDLY.  I was so into it, I was practically manic!

I got so excited, I called my mother to share this wondrous discovery of mine.
 “Mom, I just read this amazing book, The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran!”
“The Prophet???  Jesus Christ is the only prophet and don’t you forget it.  What is this man’s background?  Is he Christian??”

Oh, boy, you got me there.  Of course, there could be no other prophet in any realm.  What was I thinking?  And with that conversation, two decisions were made.  1) Sharing my ‘great’ discoveries with my mother was off, and 2) I, for better or worse, was going on my own spiritual journey in this life.  In fact, I ended up majoring in Religion and Philosophy....huge demand for that major!!  But, I didn’t care.  I was going to read all the great masters and make my own decision.

So, Kahlil came to my wedding in the form of excerpts of his passage on Marriage.
“Sing and dance together and be joyous,
But let each of you be alone.
Stand together, yet not too near together.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

But, that was not my mantra.  My mantra came from his poem on Joy and Sorrow.
“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy it can contain.”  I cannot tell you how many times I’ve conjured this up.  Pain just sucks.  It’s gut wrenching to find out your best friend and mate has been diagnosed with AIDS or you learn you have breast cancer and you think your life is over.

So, I say to myself, feel it....feel the pain, cry, scream, sob, whatever it takes.  Because if you feel sorrow deeply, you can also feel joy deeply.  There is always tomorrow; there is always hope.  I never wanted to feel dead when I am so clearly alive.  I think when you won’t let yourself feel emotion, that’s dying.

And, in my life, I can tell you I’ve felt great sorrow and great joy.  God knows, I prefer joy but would I appreciate it as much without sorrow?

After I graduated from college in 1969, my new husband and I took a leap of faith and left our home state of Florida to take up residence in New England.  Why?  Because it was a hotbed of antiwar activism and my husband had gone AWOL to New Haven several years earlier and decided it was the place for us to start a new life...mainly, among people like us who were testing the “establishment” by living in communes and growing organic before anyone had a clue what that was.

And, so we took off in our Volkswagen bug with all our worldly possessions and ended up in Northampton, Massachusetts....the home of Jonathan Edwards, the fire and brimstone preacher from the Puritan Era. He was widely acknowledged to be America’s most important philosophical theologian and one of our country’s greatest intellectuals.  In 1741, he delivered his most famous sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”

 I’m fairly certain Jonathan would not be happy that townspeople were smoking weed on the steps of his church when we arrived!   To me, that was just another sign that we were supposed to be there.  Yes, I am laughing as I write this....laughing at my naivete.

But, it was here that I found one of my life’s passions:  American History.  

One day, I was touring Katharine Hepburn’s childhood home in Hartford, Connecticut and there inscribed on the fireplace was my other mantra:  “Listen to the song of life.”

I’ve been singing ever since.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Lose It!


I am so happy to be back in Maryland for a few months.  I couldn’t wait to retire so I could travel, but now I’ve done it to the death.  Literally, I have barely been home since December....Orlando ...Hilton Head...Williamsburg...Orlando...Sarasota...Memphis...Jacksonville...Live Oak....New Orleans... Longboat Key...Philly...Hilton Head...Hunt Valley...Jacksonville.  Done.  Overdone.

One of the best things about being home is controlling my diet.  It is SO HARD to eat healthfully on the road....especially, in the South.  I love, love, love shrimp and grits, sausage and grits, hush puppies, Southern fried steak with lots of gravy....I could go on but you get the picture.

Have you ever tried to eat healthy in Cracker Barrel???  That is Steve’s favorite place to eat on the road.  He eats fried chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and biscuits.  Easily, 2000 calories.  Not even filled up so he orders dessert...apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream...easily another 500.  See anything green on that plate???  Nope..nada.  Not his thing.  By the way, he’s 6 feet 1 inch and weighs 175....Can you stand it?!

See, I’m on this diet using this app--Lose It!--on my iPhone.  Before I got this app, I decided if I was serious about losing weight, I had to write down everything I ate and factor in exercise.  It works but Lose It! does it automatically so it’s so much easier.  I also tried Weight Watchers and that works, too, but I hated to go in for the public weighing and meetings, because the women just stared at me....disdainfully, mainly.  As if to say, what are you doing here?

Hey!  I’ve got my issues, too....mainly, my waistline, lurking beneath my loose fitting tops.  I want to lose 10 pounds.  I want to get down to 110.  Of course, this has been my goal since my last pregnancy, now 28 years ago.  No, I am not anorexic...I’m only 5 feet tall...a reasonable weight since I never weighed over 95 until I was 35.  So, Lose It! is my tool to get there.  I put in my goal...I’d like to lose one pound a week.  No problem...you just have to keep your net calorie intake at 980 daily.

Let me tell you, there’s nothing on the Cracker Barrel menu within my daily limit.  I tried the vegetable plate....everything’s smothered in butter and salt.  I’ve tried the garden salad.  Obviously, no one orders this because the lettuce is always wilted and tinged with brown.  Vinaigrette is not an option.

How do you have that daily health drink, red wine, and stay within that ridiculous limit?
And, what about my favorite health food---dark chocolate???  The bottom line here is that 980 has been my daily intake goal for 3 years now and I’m still not at 110.

But, now I’m home.  Breakfast is coffee and yogurt parfait--200 calories.  Lunch is a bean burrito--150 calories.  Dinner is fish and salad---300 calories.  Now....for the red wine and dark chocolate!

Today, I woke up and had my usual breakfast followed by an hour and a half workout.  Way ahead of the game...I have 880 calories to spare.  Steve just called....it’s a Make Your Own Sundae Night.

So great to be home....

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

I'm Turning WHAT????!!!

It's my birthday weekend....born on September 3rd....nine months after a particularly celebratory New Year's.  Labor Day really was labor day for my mom.  But, OMG!!!  I'm turning 65!!  Time to sign up for Medicare.  REALLY????  I don't feel like 65.

When I was a kid, 65 looked a whole lot different than it looks now....at least, that's my memory, limited though it may be.  Women wore "house dresses."  No way am I wearing a house dress!  No one dyed their hair much less got their eyes done or even worse...a FACELIFT!  Now, I'm waiting for the stock market to accelerate so I can get rid of my wattle.  Not even kidding here.

One of my most memorable birthdays happened two years ago.  I went with two of my kids, Chelsea and Justin, and Matt, my son-in-law, to Matt's family's house on the Rappahannock River in Lancaster, Virginia.

Justin dared me to water ski.  Oh no...not going to happen.  Decades of knee problems followed by a hip replacement.  When was the last time I water skied?  Probably in high school on the lake I grew up on in Florida.  That was a main form of entertainment in my family....countless gatherings at our home. Always, my father was behind the wheel of the outboard, after rolling the makeshift trailer to the shore. My brother, sister and me all slaloming behind the boat together.  Knee injuries forced me to end the fun since it would hurt and swell every time.  Sad to say, I had to be content to watch my more talented siblings.

But, believe it or not, I start mulling it over.  Maybe, I could.  I'm trying to convince myself I wouldn't end up in an emergency room.  Could it be different now?  I have been working out and doing strength training almost every day.  Still....I don't think so.  Too scary.

Chelsea also mentions it.  "I'm thinking about it," I mutter under my breath.  OMG!  Did I just say that?  Am I crazy?

Saturday morning, we eat our bagels and drink our coffee.  Matt starts taking the life vests down to the boathouse.  Oh boy, we are really doing this.  They ask me to ski again.  "Okay, if I ski, you have to play bridge with me."  Deal!

It's 80 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, water smooth as silk.  We drive out to a deeper part of the river.  Matt adjusts the skis, I put on the life vest.  This is still surreal to me but I am now absolutely determined to go through with it.  Justin and Chelsea ask if I'm nervous.  "A little."  Actually, I'm just short of terrified.

I jump in the water.  Wow...not nearly as cold as I expected.  I struggle to put on my skis but I do it.  I take the rope and wait for the slack.  "Okay, hit it!"  I yell.  The boat lurches; I barely make it out of the water and let go.  I want to try again.  This time, I got a little further out of the water.  "One more time!" I swear I'm going to hang on for dear life it it kills me!

I'M UP!!!!!  Whoa...these are muscles I haven't used in a long time.  But, I'm standing.  The kids are screaming, "Go, Mom!"  I laugh and start moving back and forth in the wake.  I straighten up.  Do I dare go outside the wake?  Yes.  I'm going to do it.  I DID IT!!!  I'm leaning low kicking up the spray from the skis.  Just like the water show at Cypress Gardens!  (Non-Floridians may need to Google that...lol) 

I cross the wake to the other side.  CRASH!  And that was it and it wasn't half bad.  The kids told me I looked like a pro!  No camera, though.  Bummer.  I'll just have to get back on that saddle...maybe for my 70th!

Saturday, July 28, 2012

It's Coming


Older age, that is.  One of our conversation topics is parents in their 80s and 90s...the heartaches, yes, but some of it is just so damn funny.

My friend, Hannah, is dealing with her mom, who is in her mid-80s, in assisted living mainly because she has severe memory issues aka Alzheimer’s.  Hannah gets all her mail, takes care of her bills.  Her mom, by the way, has no idea what direct deposit is.

One day, she gets a $20 annual fee charge on her mom’s credit card.  What???  Why pay this fee when she never uses the card?  She calls Chase or Capital One or Bank of America....whatever it was.  “Ma’am, we cannot take the fee off unless we speak directly to the cardholder.”  Hannah tried to convince them that her mom was in no shape to respond to their questions.  Of course, they were relentless.

What choice does she have?  She calls them back from her mom’s apartment and puts her on the phone.  “We have just a few simple questions for you to answer, okay?”

“Is your name Minnie Steinberg?”

“Speak English!” Minnie yells into the phone.  Of course, they’re calling from India.
Undaunted, they try the next question.

“Are you working, not working, or retired?”

“I am sooo tired.  Thank you for asking.”  

There’s a pause and they try again.

“What is your income, Mrs. Steinberg?”

“I have no idea.  My daughter stole all my money.”

At this point, Hannah gets on the phone laughing hysterically, “I’ll pay the $20!”

My friend, Jill, has an older brother...not quite 70 and they were watching one of those oh-so-serene Viagra commercials one day and he turns to her and says, “I’d take one of those blue pills but then I’d have to put it somewhere.”

Okay....guess he hasn’t checked out Sun City aka Sin City.  Evidently, the VD rate is off the charts.  Geez, you hear stories of all kinds of weird behavior, including women traveling around in golf carts NUDE!!!  Can you get a picture of that???

As my kids would say, “EWWWW!”  I know, I know....TMI!!!

It’s coming....

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Girlfriends


Fifteen years ago, I came to Hilton Head Island for the first time with two girlfriends to celebrate our collective 50th birthdays.  I fell in love....with the island and its environs.  We day tripped to Charleston, Savannah, Daufuskie Island.  We ate like we’d never had a good meal.  We rented umbrellas and chairs and sat on the beach for hours on end reading whatever was on Oprah’s list.  And we walked and talked and cried and laughed until we were completely wrung out.

We vowed to do it every five years.  And, we have.  These are women who were teaching colleagues of mine, who I raised my children with, who were with me when my husband died and who stayed with me afterwards.  These are the girls who held their breath and tried to be nonjudgmental about my choices of men and can now exhale because, although it took me 15 years, I found my Mr. Wonderful.

I thank God every day for the great women in my world.  Men bond over work, golf, poker.  But, women get right to the heart of it....how is your soul?  Your spirit?  What makes you happy?

With your women friends, you can just unleash....it’s stream of consciousness no holds barred.  There’s no topic that’s off limits.  We love our adult children, but we absolutely adore our grandkids!  We talk about our aging parents and assisted living and how our bodies are failing us.

Ironically enough, all of our mates have traits of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  One has to redo the order of the dishes in the dishwasher, another has bins of used golf balls lined up in the garage, another has to have his washed tumbler on either the right or left side of the dish drain depending on whether it was the orange juice or cranberry juice day.

Ya just gotta laugh.  But, I’ll take OCD any day over having a mate with Executive Dysfunction....now, that’s a real headache!

Most of us are retired now.  We’re not rising at 5:30 a.m. to get the kids to school and get ourselves out  to work.  We’re staying up later, rising later.  We’re  doing what we always wanted to do....traveling, writing, learning the new technology, working out daily, planning the next happy hour or gathering,  We’re adjusting to being with our mates 24/7.

All in all, It’s a joyous life of freedom.  But, we know it’s fleeting.  Be conscious....be here now.  Today is a beautiful moment in time...our time.  Live it.  Love it.  Celebrate.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

No One Like Nora


The TV was background noise as I was reading the Style section of the Washington Post and I swear I heard, “Nora Ephron has died.”  I was stunned....complete shock.
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!  It just can’t be true.

Of course, Nora didn’t know me from Adam but, she was my heroine.  If you’ve read her, you know what I mean.  There is no one on this planet who can take life’s tragedies and absurdities and turn them into complete hilarity!

She was fortunate enough to be born to parents who were writers.  Her mother told her early on to take notes. “Observe your own life, you never know when you can use the material.”  What a sage piece of advice that was.

My first encounter with Nora was her best seller, Heartburn.  OMG!!!  This book gives the world the gory details of her marriage to Carl Bernstein, the famous Watergate reporter and now the infamous philanderer.  Fool that he was.  In case you haven’t read it, it’s basically the evolution and subsequent collapse of a marriage between two very talented and intense artists.  She leaves her life in New York to set up housekeeping in Washington, D.C.  The book is sprinkled with divine recipes from her dinner parties.

The marriage implodes when she discovers his ongoing affair with the British Ambassador’s wife, who she describes as a “giraffe with big feet.”  Does it matter that Nora was seven months pregnant with their second child???  Yep, she outed him and turned it into a bestseller and movie.  And, she got her life back in New York and a new husband who adored her, Nick Pileggi, the fabulous crime writer.

On a side note, Peter Jay, the British Ambassador, went on to getting the family's nanny preggers; thus, ending the marriage and his diplomatic career after 25 years.  Margaret, the cohort, went on to become the Leader of the House of Lords, retiring from that position in 2001.  She is now Baroness Jay of Paddington.  Ahhh...those Brits!

But, that was the 70s when it was all about Make Love, Not War....now in DC, it's simply Make War!!

The young Nora was a magazine writer, writing for Cosmo and Esquire.  Who could forget her 1975 essay, “A Few Words About Breasts,” where she lamented having small ones in a world that adores big ones? Her friends told her not to worry about it.  It’s more important to be witty and brilliant.  She decided they were full of shit.

Then, she entered the film world as a screenwriter, director and producer.  What a powerhouse!  I got teary in “Sleepless in Seattle” and “You’ve Got Mail.”  “When Harry Met Sally” was Nora on top.  Meg Ryan’s fake orgasm scene was filmed at Katz’s Deli in New York, one of Nora’s haunts.  To this day, customers come in and try to reenact that scene receiving either a standing ovation or a chorus of boos.

But, more than her movies, I loved her collections of essays on aging, I Hate My Neck and I Remember Nothing.  Every woman over 40 should read them.  Books that make me laugh out loud are all too rare.  Nora’s observations were spot-on hilarious!  God, she made it possible to laugh at growing old!  Oh, how I’ll miss her.

There are Nora-isms....maxims about life that only she could nail.

“Show me a woman who cries when the trees lose their leaves in autumn and I’ll show you a real asshole.”

“When your children are teenagers, it’s important to have a dog around so someone’s happy to see you.”

“In my sex fantasy, nobody loves me for my mind.”

She even wrote about wishes for her funeral, “I want everyone to be basket cases.”

Nope....not a dry eye.



Tuesday, July 10, 2012

I Admit It

Yep...ancient adolescent.  How did this happen?  I'm in my mid-60s!  I'm retired!!!  I got the graying, wiry, curly hair flying in every direction.  I'm relentlessly fighting my midriff bulge...working out with weights, doing 45 minute cardio downloads almost everyday.  I try to watch what I eat but I still love my fries and burgers....my vegetarian kids are rolling their eyes.  I love a fresh salad, but I am sorely tempted by filet mignon and ribs.

I am in a war against saggy arms, saggy thighs and a saggy butt.  I do this upper body workout by Chris Freitag that is so intense I have to drink a glass of water every 10 minutes!  "I love sculpted shoulders," she announces while incessantly wielding these ungodly heavy weights over her head.  "Back at ya, Chris!" I gasp.

I can't say I'm winning the battle but I'm not about to concede.  I'm not a gym rat.  I have no schedule, I'm on the road constantly.  Gave up my gym membership...can't commit to even one class.  The battle is being waged in my living room using my iPod, while watching The View or listening to NPR.

I call myself an ancient adolescent because I feel as light and free as I did as a teenager without all the angst of not being independent or knowing what the future held.

As that future unfolded, I loved being a mom, raising wonderfully challenging children.  I welcomed a career in education where I felt I could make a difference in someone's world.  I faced the overwhelming tragedy of loving and losing my dearest friend and mate through the scourge of AIDS.

I had a hip replacement 12 years ago....I fought breast cancer as has practically every one of my close friends.  I take Lipitor for my ridiculously high cholesterol levels.  I've had three knee surgeries....blah, blah, blah.  You get the point.  You get this far, you got issues!!!

I'm a lucky girl.  I'm winning the battle.  I've got more energy than I had 20 years ago.  I wake up every day renewed and ready for whatever the day brings.  I got to retire in an economy that makes that almost impossible.

Now it's my turn to do what I want to do.  I always wanted to write so now I blog.  My first blog was all about my hapless love life and my second blog focused on my spiritual evolution and my encounters with the 'other world.'

But, this is my stream of consciousness blog.  Only God knows where we're headed!