So yes, I'm a little pissy today.
People, stuff...let's just say the day is not starting out stellar. I could go on for days with my own kvetching, but this morning I need to take on a cause for another. It is a common enough problem, encountered by many people in this country. Today we talk about Medical Insurance Companies.
Say you had a medical condition like hypertension...many of us do. After trial and error for a good length of time, you finally find one drug which works. Of course after this good luck comes your way, the insurance company takes that specific drug off its approved list. Now, to stay healthy, it's going to be with money coming out of your pocket...at a cost of several hundred dollars a month.
So, the insurance company would rather pay for a drug that doesn't work as well, and incur all the costs down the line for repercussions...than pay upfront for a drug proven to take care of the problem Sure, let her have a stroke, then we will pay for the hospital, doctors, rehab...etc, if she lives through it.
Kind of makes you believe the inmates are really running the asylum.
So here we are with seniors cutting their meds in half because they can't afford a full dose, people bringing in meds from over the borders because they're cheaper, and our medical insurance companies just look at the "in-the-moment' cost. They started allowing tests for preventative medicine, including flu shots, mammograms and check-ups, but still have a narrow-minded approach to the drugs which keep people healthy.
Stupidity it seems, is an epidemic well covered by the medical insurance business.
.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Driving A Boat On Dry Land
Smooth as glass, that's what it feels like riding in my Dad's boat. Technically it is not a boat, rather it's a 1985 Buick Regal...baby blue with navy blue velour interior. Yes, 1985.
Now Dad turned 87 a few weeks back and days before his birthday, his doctor told him it was time to hand over the keys. Now we all knew it was past time, but with the winter so uneventful, I was giving him until his birthday to have the final talk on the matter. Luckily for me, the doctor did the dirty work.
Let me tell you about the boat. That car only went on vacations. No local driving for her. No, she sat parked in the driveway until it was time for a trip. Then she would be taken down the street to his mechanic, who was told to check her out. Now this mechanic has worked on all of our cars forever. He knew the car was always in perfect condition, so he would do a cursory check-up, charge my Dad a few bucks and everyone was happy. Dad always felt the mechanic never charged him enough, and he was right. He's a good guy who still looks after my parents any way he can. He often told me "Kath, I'll give it a look, but that car runs better than mine." It runs better than mine, that's for sure, but that's a story for another day
So, now it's time to say goodbye to the boat. They will still have my mother's car for the little driving they need to do at his point. But the boat will be taking her final voyage very soon. First, there's a full tank of gas to use up. Didn't think the old man would ever let his pride and joy sit there half-filled, did you? No, she was always ready to go...whether it was cross-country or down to Atlantic City.
Now it's up to me to take her for the last few rides...and with the price of gas, hell, I'll take a free tank of running errands. But I gotta tell you, for as quiet and smooth as that car is...it almost purrs...it's one ugly as sin, big freakin' car. For a brief moment while driving it today I thought, maybe we should just keep it and have a second car. Then reality set it and I realized I can't really see around all the angles to park it. And it's 27 years old. And it's an old man's car.
Yeah mine, and if he can't drive her anymore...it's time she sailed away on her own.
.
Now Dad turned 87 a few weeks back and days before his birthday, his doctor told him it was time to hand over the keys. Now we all knew it was past time, but with the winter so uneventful, I was giving him until his birthday to have the final talk on the matter. Luckily for me, the doctor did the dirty work.
Let me tell you about the boat. That car only went on vacations. No local driving for her. No, she sat parked in the driveway until it was time for a trip. Then she would be taken down the street to his mechanic, who was told to check her out. Now this mechanic has worked on all of our cars forever. He knew the car was always in perfect condition, so he would do a cursory check-up, charge my Dad a few bucks and everyone was happy. Dad always felt the mechanic never charged him enough, and he was right. He's a good guy who still looks after my parents any way he can. He often told me "Kath, I'll give it a look, but that car runs better than mine." It runs better than mine, that's for sure, but that's a story for another day
So, now it's time to say goodbye to the boat. They will still have my mother's car for the little driving they need to do at his point. But the boat will be taking her final voyage very soon. First, there's a full tank of gas to use up. Didn't think the old man would ever let his pride and joy sit there half-filled, did you? No, she was always ready to go...whether it was cross-country or down to Atlantic City.
Now it's up to me to take her for the last few rides...and with the price of gas, hell, I'll take a free tank of running errands. But I gotta tell you, for as quiet and smooth as that car is...it almost purrs...it's one ugly as sin, big freakin' car. For a brief moment while driving it today I thought, maybe we should just keep it and have a second car. Then reality set it and I realized I can't really see around all the angles to park it. And it's 27 years old. And it's an old man's car.
Yeah mine, and if he can't drive her anymore...it's time she sailed away on her own.
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Sunday, February 26, 2012
Mini Poodle In Tracksuit & Sneakers
I shit you not.
It was just too damn nice today not to do the walk around the big lake. Cold, but no wind and the joyful reappearance of the sun. February yes, February weather...not so much.. No dog for this walk, I left the bitch at home,
Honestly, I love the solitude of a long walk. Time to clear the head, say hello to other crazy people walking in the cold, and visit with the dog people strolling along. First, I met some guy with three girls, Gracie, Emily and Maggie. Twelve legs and all howls. Nice conversation about weather, dogs and walking mileage.
Continuing on...there they came. A couple of women with a couple of small dogs. After the triple take, I realized that yes this little dog was wearing a red track suit with little doggie sneakers. Why would you do that to a dog? Most people look ridiculous in a track suit, but a tiny dog. A little dog dignity please. And the sneakers. Should have taken a picture, but I was literally stunned.
Back home after my walk, now it's time to take out the dog. Yes, she's making a fashion statement with her fur coat. But, those paws are a bit too big for Manolo's.
Just two girls strolling...no need for a fashion statement.
.
It was just too damn nice today not to do the walk around the big lake. Cold, but no wind and the joyful reappearance of the sun. February yes, February weather...not so much.. No dog for this walk, I left the bitch at home,
Honestly, I love the solitude of a long walk. Time to clear the head, say hello to other crazy people walking in the cold, and visit with the dog people strolling along. First, I met some guy with three girls, Gracie, Emily and Maggie. Twelve legs and all howls. Nice conversation about weather, dogs and walking mileage.
Continuing on...there they came. A couple of women with a couple of small dogs. After the triple take, I realized that yes this little dog was wearing a red track suit with little doggie sneakers. Why would you do that to a dog? Most people look ridiculous in a track suit, but a tiny dog. A little dog dignity please. And the sneakers. Should have taken a picture, but I was literally stunned.
Back home after my walk, now it's time to take out the dog. Yes, she's making a fashion statement with her fur coat. But, those paws are a bit too big for Manolo's.
Just two girls strolling...no need for a fashion statement.
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Saturday, February 25, 2012
Using My Legs, Not My Brain
And, what the hell was I thinking? Tweeted this morning that with 40 mph gusts and temps in the 30s, a 3 mile walk around the big lake didn't seem like it would happen. But 2 miles around the smaller lake...eh ok.
Me, the dog and Mother Freakin' Nature. There's some snow on the ground from yesterday, but the streets are clear so safety wasn't an issue. Stupidity is. Now the dog is around nine years old...she's a rescue so we're not quite sure. The three mile hike is a bit much for her. About 3/4 of the way around it, she starts looking back at me with the face that says "Are we there yet?" So I only take her when I do the shorter walk.
Now this walk is not really hard, there is a big hill, but it's really only an issue if you walk it in one direction. Taking the back end around has a nice incline but you don't need to battle gravity to climb it. Off we went. At first the wind wasn't too bad...a gust or two...I can take this. Of course the big gusts never appear until you are close to the halfway point of the walk. No Man's Land. Keep going or turn back...makes no difference, the distance is the same. But is the wind?
Now me, I hate going and coming back the same way. Even to the store, I usually go down one route on the way there, another way home. Maybe I get bored...maybe you never know who's watching you. So my walking path was clear. Forge ahead.
Together the dog and I traveled, braved what should be normal temperatures for February in the northeast. But every few yards she'd turn and look at me as if to say "What the hell were you thinking?"
I don't know. But I won't be thinking it tomorrow.
Me, the dog and Mother Freakin' Nature. There's some snow on the ground from yesterday, but the streets are clear so safety wasn't an issue. Stupidity is. Now the dog is around nine years old...she's a rescue so we're not quite sure. The three mile hike is a bit much for her. About 3/4 of the way around it, she starts looking back at me with the face that says "Are we there yet?" So I only take her when I do the shorter walk.
Now this walk is not really hard, there is a big hill, but it's really only an issue if you walk it in one direction. Taking the back end around has a nice incline but you don't need to battle gravity to climb it. Off we went. At first the wind wasn't too bad...a gust or two...I can take this. Of course the big gusts never appear until you are close to the halfway point of the walk. No Man's Land. Keep going or turn back...makes no difference, the distance is the same. But is the wind?
Now me, I hate going and coming back the same way. Even to the store, I usually go down one route on the way there, another way home. Maybe I get bored...maybe you never know who's watching you. So my walking path was clear. Forge ahead.
Together the dog and I traveled, braved what should be normal temperatures for February in the northeast. But every few yards she'd turn and look at me as if to say "What the hell were you thinking?"
I don't know. But I won't be thinking it tomorrow.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Waking The Dead Or Just Napping Like One
Before leaving for the weekend house, I stopped by to see my parents. Now for those who haven't read any of the family type posts before, my dad is 87 and not quite the man he used to be. Well, I walk in through the back door and there is my dad...his head hanging down, asleep at the kitchen table. At least I assumed he was asleep.
Mom was walking in from the living room and I walked past her as I headed to the basement to drop something off. I mentioned to her that dad was asleep and the position he was in could not be good for the arthritis in his neck. Down in the basement I can hear my mother trying to wake my dad. "Hon...hon...hon." Now that has my attention, because I know she's got to be standing right next to him. I start moving quickly back up the stairs...really fearing the worst As soon as I reach the kitchen...boom, those hibernating brain cells checked back into the present. "What?" he says. Scared the shit out of us, we say.
Now granted, of all the ways to exit this life...that would not have been a bad one...at least for him. It does however, make you realize just how quickly you can go poof.
It also makes you wonder just how dead you can look when you're alive. Or napping.
Mom was walking in from the living room and I walked past her as I headed to the basement to drop something off. I mentioned to her that dad was asleep and the position he was in could not be good for the arthritis in his neck. Down in the basement I can hear my mother trying to wake my dad. "Hon...hon...hon." Now that has my attention, because I know she's got to be standing right next to him. I start moving quickly back up the stairs...really fearing the worst As soon as I reach the kitchen...boom, those hibernating brain cells checked back into the present. "What?" he says. Scared the shit out of us, we say.
Now granted, of all the ways to exit this life...that would not have been a bad one...at least for him. It does however, make you realize just how quickly you can go poof.
It also makes you wonder just how dead you can look when you're alive. Or napping.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
A Squish In Time...
Just got back from the annual 'squish in a dish', otherwise known as a mammogram. Since the beginning of the year, I've been doing the doctor thing, trying to be sure I am in complete physical readiness for the summer rock & roll circuit, weekend yard sales and party time on the deck.
So far, so good. In January, I wrote about the trip to the gynecologist in a blog titled "Keeping In Shape: It's More Than Flat Abs." If you haven't read that, well it was an interesting doctor visit to say the least.
Anyway, today's appointment went well. The girls are in good health, though it always feels they are placed on a scale, like in a butcher shop. Definitely more than a literal pound of flesh, if you ask me. Another test out of the way.
I never quite understood the resistance by so many women about having a mammo. The technology has come a long way, and if it's uncomfortable for 10 seconds...suck it up. To me the weirdest thing is having full conversations with the woman who is pinching and prodding each girl into position. I'd love to have the technician I had today, in my home when I'm mixing up the ground meat for meatballs...good hands on her.
So, my thoughts for today are just do it. For less than a minute of feeling like you're a hamburger patty, you get a year of breathing easy.
I'll get squished for that any day.
.
So far, so good. In January, I wrote about the trip to the gynecologist in a blog titled "Keeping In Shape: It's More Than Flat Abs." If you haven't read that, well it was an interesting doctor visit to say the least.
Anyway, today's appointment went well. The girls are in good health, though it always feels they are placed on a scale, like in a butcher shop. Definitely more than a literal pound of flesh, if you ask me. Another test out of the way.
I never quite understood the resistance by so many women about having a mammo. The technology has come a long way, and if it's uncomfortable for 10 seconds...suck it up. To me the weirdest thing is having full conversations with the woman who is pinching and prodding each girl into position. I'd love to have the technician I had today, in my home when I'm mixing up the ground meat for meatballs...good hands on her.
So, my thoughts for today are just do it. For less than a minute of feeling like you're a hamburger patty, you get a year of breathing easy.
I'll get squished for that any day.
.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Food For Thought: Just Don't Eat It
"I'm not gonna try it, you try it." So began the classic Life cereal commercial with the three brothers trying to get each other to try the cereal. So who's stepping up to be the first one to try "test tube meat"? Yum.
Now back in high school, virtually every meal was served with something we affectionately called 'mystery meat,' but actually growing meat in a laboratory. Seriously...no thank you.
It seems scientists are determined to take the actual cow out of the food chain, replaced by growing a nice juicy burger from...bovine stem cells. This will lower the fat content, reduce carcinogens...blah,blah,blah. Downside...well they don't quite know if genetically engineered beef could change the proteins and make them...you guessed it...carcinogenic.
The reasoning behind this experiment in making moo, is the world's increasing consumption of beef means at some point, we won't be able to produce enough for the demand. So, maybe we can just eat pasta once a week...do we really need to actualize the event created in the short-lived series "Better Off Ted"...where scientists Phil and Lem grow a roast?
I'm thinking this is not going to end well. Visions of the 50's Steve McQueen sci-fi movie "The Blob" are running through my head. Eat your burger before it eats you.
All in all, this is just a very bad mooove.
Now back in high school, virtually every meal was served with something we affectionately called 'mystery meat,' but actually growing meat in a laboratory. Seriously...no thank you.
It seems scientists are determined to take the actual cow out of the food chain, replaced by growing a nice juicy burger from...bovine stem cells. This will lower the fat content, reduce carcinogens...blah,blah,blah. Downside...well they don't quite know if genetically engineered beef could change the proteins and make them...you guessed it...carcinogenic.
The reasoning behind this experiment in making moo, is the world's increasing consumption of beef means at some point, we won't be able to produce enough for the demand. So, maybe we can just eat pasta once a week...do we really need to actualize the event created in the short-lived series "Better Off Ted"...where scientists Phil and Lem grow a roast?
I'm thinking this is not going to end well. Visions of the 50's Steve McQueen sci-fi movie "The Blob" are running through my head. Eat your burger before it eats you.
All in all, this is just a very bad mooove.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Every Dog Has Her Day
It was the Friday before Memorial Day several years ago, when we picked up the new addition to the family. It had been a year and a half since we put Norton down, and the feeling that the loss would get easier never materialized. But it just seemed that already, it was time. I missed having a dog in the house.
Two weeks before, I had looked online to see what was available at the shelter up in Port Jervis, NY. There were three dogs that were of interest to me. When we arrived, only two were there. The first was a beautiful shepherd/golden mix, but young and crazy full of enthusiasm. Not sure I was up to that. The other was what we think is a chesapeake retriever/hound mix named Hershey. She was large,with yellow/green eyes. The picture in my profile is this wonderful angel with fur. We took her out of the pen and walked into the field outside. Immediately she squatted...good sign I thought. We walked..she was calm, told her to sit...she did. I knelt down beside her and put my arm around her...no flinching. She passed my test. We picked her up the next week.
Her first day up at the weekend house consisted of her following me around. No barking...just observing. We had a bed ready for her upstairs next to ours and when I went up for the night...she followed me. I tried to show her the bed, but she didn't seem all that interested. Ok, let her go where she wants, maybe she was more comfortable downstairs. I got into bed, started to relax when all of a sudden this very large dog, who I knew nothing about, jumped on the bed. She then laid down, put one paw on the right side of my head, the other paw on the left side of my head and her head on my chest.
What at first was very unnerving, almost instantly became clear. She knew she was home.
P.S. She now runs the place.
Two weeks before, I had looked online to see what was available at the shelter up in Port Jervis, NY. There were three dogs that were of interest to me. When we arrived, only two were there. The first was a beautiful shepherd/golden mix, but young and crazy full of enthusiasm. Not sure I was up to that. The other was what we think is a chesapeake retriever/hound mix named Hershey. She was large,with yellow/green eyes. The picture in my profile is this wonderful angel with fur. We took her out of the pen and walked into the field outside. Immediately she squatted...good sign I thought. We walked..she was calm, told her to sit...she did. I knelt down beside her and put my arm around her...no flinching. She passed my test. We picked her up the next week.
Her first day up at the weekend house consisted of her following me around. No barking...just observing. We had a bed ready for her upstairs next to ours and when I went up for the night...she followed me. I tried to show her the bed, but she didn't seem all that interested. Ok, let her go where she wants, maybe she was more comfortable downstairs. I got into bed, started to relax when all of a sudden this very large dog, who I knew nothing about, jumped on the bed. She then laid down, put one paw on the right side of my head, the other paw on the left side of my head and her head on my chest.
What at first was very unnerving, almost instantly became clear. She knew she was home.
P.S. She now runs the place.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Dealing With Dissapointment
I need the weekend...bad. The week has been crazy to say the least. Stress level borders on extreme...throw in a few insane highs with some incredible lows and here we are.
Granted some of it is my own doing. Bad job by me. But when circumstances occur over which you have no control...then proceed to bite you in the ass...well I think it's time to double up on the BP pills.
Without going into too much detail, the sad part is that as much as I am being affected by these circumstances, there are a great number of other people who have put their hearts and souls into a specific goal. Waiting to hear today, if that dream has crashed and burned. One person involved much more closely than I, had a great line "this has me spinning in a new dimension of pissedoffidness." Could not have said it better myself.
Hopefully, by the time I leave for my weekend therapy at the lake, we will know the outcome of the situation. I'm thinking there will be some drinking involved later. Just hoping it will be champagne.
Granted some of it is my own doing. Bad job by me. But when circumstances occur over which you have no control...then proceed to bite you in the ass...well I think it's time to double up on the BP pills.
Without going into too much detail, the sad part is that as much as I am being affected by these circumstances, there are a great number of other people who have put their hearts and souls into a specific goal. Waiting to hear today, if that dream has crashed and burned. One person involved much more closely than I, had a great line "this has me spinning in a new dimension of pissedoffidness." Could not have said it better myself.
Hopefully, by the time I leave for my weekend therapy at the lake, we will know the outcome of the situation. I'm thinking there will be some drinking involved later. Just hoping it will be champagne.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Up On The Roof: One Hot Story
A few years ago the roof on the garage of the weekend house started to leak. Now both the garage and house roofs were original and we knew replacement would be needed at some point. When the first leaks appeared in the garage...it was time.
When this happened I believe, was in late summer. As we usually take off some time in September, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea. Why don't we do it ourselves? Even as I wrote those words, I cannot fathom they actually flew out of my mouth. So we thought about it. A two-car garage, one story...how hard could it be? Mind you neither of us had ever replaced a roof before...hell I had never even stood on top of a roof before.
So we consulted with our contractor, who I'm sure thought we were insane, he ordered the materials and lent us the tools we needed. Middle of September in the Poconos...weather should be perfect. And it was, except for the 90+ degree temperature the entire week. The first day of stripping off the old roof wasn't too bad, except for the temperature and the nails and the temperature and the up & down the ladder and the temperature. Laying down tar paper and having the shingles delivered all in one day. A truck with a crane dropped them right on top of the roof, but the bundles still needed to be moved into position. And did I mention they are heavy as hell.
The days went by, the heat never changed. From early morning until late afternoon, little by little we got it done. The end of the week, rain was forecast...we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best. The rain came, the leaks did not. A job well done. And though I am proud to be the only woman I know to have replaced a roof...it is definitely a job I will never do again.
I may be a force of nature and I may be a few shingles short of a bundle...but I am definitely not a roofer.
Anybody seen my nail gun?
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Wednesday, February 15, 2012
I Got Nothin'
How do you go about saying something, when you have nothing to say? Well, let's find out.
When I sat down at the keyboard this morning, I knew what I was writing about on the music blog.. It was something I had thought of several days ago, and today was the day to do it. write it, check it,done.
Spent a little time with the assembled tweet troops who are also up at ungodly hours in the morning along with a guest appearance from one of the usual late risers...you know those musician types. Catch up with them, share a few laughs, then everyone goes away...for a while anyway. Anything exciting to write about. uh No.
There was a chance I was meeting a friend for lunch, so I thought I'd wait until I got back to see if any earth-shattering events happened during our time together. uh No. Lunch was very nice, a time to catch up on the events of the past few weeks, bitch a
So why do I try to write about something, when there is nothing to write about? Who the hell knows. It has something to do with mentally challenging yourself, with keeping a sort of discipline and something to do with consistency.
So now we have four paragraphs about close to nothing. Hey Seinfeld did it for what...nine seasons?
And that's a lot to say, without saying anything.
.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentine's Day: It's Right In Front Of You
Yeah, It's Valentine's Day. Where do I even begin. You know this is not gonna be pretty.
Just like Christmas, Valentine's Day is all about anticipation. What will the gift be...candy, flowers, THE RING? What is expected? Together a year or less...flowers for sure, maybe earrings or a necklace...definitely not THE RING. Going out for the second Valentine's Day...THE RING expectation gets a lot stronger. If it's the third VDay and no ring...pack it up girl, it ain't gonna happen.
Now it's not that I hate Valentine's Day, I don't. There have been some very...um interesting ones. But that's a story for another day. But here's how I feel about the most popular gifts.
Chocolate: Those who know me can attest to my devotion to it. I have stated on many occasions that a Hershey's bar is God's most perfect food. Even the dog's name is Hershey, though that name came from the shelter...I just couldn't bear to change it. However, I do not need to consume an entire box. Said Hershey bar will suffice.
Flowers: Always hated when I was sent flowers to the office. Why send them there? To impress my co-workers? I'm not leaving them there, so I gotta carry them home. Pain in the ass.
Dinner: Yes, I love dinner out, but on VDay...no. Crazy crowded with limited menu and drink prices jacked up. Another night for sure.
Jewelry: Well you've got me there. I can't really bitch about something shiny in a small box.
All in all, my belief is VDay is too stressful and annoying. And while the idea of making every day feel like Valentine's Day is appealing...well we all know that ain't gonna happen. Take it all one day at a time. If tonight, you don't receive the gift you had hoped for, just remember you will still wake up next to the person you wanted it from.
Waking up in his arms...isn't that what you always wanted most of all?
I need some chocolate.
Just like Christmas, Valentine's Day is all about anticipation. What will the gift be...candy, flowers, THE RING? What is expected? Together a year or less...flowers for sure, maybe earrings or a necklace...definitely not THE RING. Going out for the second Valentine's Day...THE RING expectation gets a lot stronger. If it's the third VDay and no ring...pack it up girl, it ain't gonna happen.
Now it's not that I hate Valentine's Day, I don't. There have been some very...um interesting ones. But that's a story for another day. But here's how I feel about the most popular gifts.
Chocolate: Those who know me can attest to my devotion to it. I have stated on many occasions that a Hershey's bar is God's most perfect food. Even the dog's name is Hershey, though that name came from the shelter...I just couldn't bear to change it. However, I do not need to consume an entire box. Said Hershey bar will suffice.
Flowers: Always hated when I was sent flowers to the office. Why send them there? To impress my co-workers? I'm not leaving them there, so I gotta carry them home. Pain in the ass.
Dinner: Yes, I love dinner out, but on VDay...no. Crazy crowded with limited menu and drink prices jacked up. Another night for sure.
Jewelry: Well you've got me there. I can't really bitch about something shiny in a small box.
All in all, my belief is VDay is too stressful and annoying. And while the idea of making every day feel like Valentine's Day is appealing...well we all know that ain't gonna happen. Take it all one day at a time. If tonight, you don't receive the gift you had hoped for, just remember you will still wake up next to the person you wanted it from.
Waking up in his arms...isn't that what you always wanted most of all?
I need some chocolate.
Monday, February 13, 2012
It Was Dad's Birthday, But I Got The Present
Yesterday was my Dad's birthday. There's a lot of living in those 87 years and it's showing. The past several weeks have been hard for him and us. While his decline has been evident for some time, recently it had been startling. Numbers were always a gauge for me, the man was a whiz at remembering statistics that would have left my brain 5 seconds after I heard them. Lately though, he was losing facts and figures all too quickly.
A trip to the doctor on Thursday provided him with another new medication. It's scary to see the amount of pills needed to get through the day. Luckily my mother can still help with administering them, because I don't think his mind can process the schedules. One of the new meds seems to be helping. At yesterday's lunch with the assembled troops, he seemed more alert and able to enjoy himself. The week before he was filled with worry about every detail leading up to the party. This morning, he seemed better still. Able to vocalize full sentences, not just two or three words at a time. I am hopeful that the final drop in cognizance is not yet here.
After he blew out the five candles I had put on his cake, we looked at me and said thanks for not making him blow out too many. And in the eyes, the twinkle was there. It may not be there for a whole lot longer, but it was there yesterday...and that was his gift to me.
Love you Pops.
For another view of dealing with an aging parent, please read "Watching The Light Fade: The Heartbreak Of The Inevitable."
A trip to the doctor on Thursday provided him with another new medication. It's scary to see the amount of pills needed to get through the day. Luckily my mother can still help with administering them, because I don't think his mind can process the schedules. One of the new meds seems to be helping. At yesterday's lunch with the assembled troops, he seemed more alert and able to enjoy himself. The week before he was filled with worry about every detail leading up to the party. This morning, he seemed better still. Able to vocalize full sentences, not just two or three words at a time. I am hopeful that the final drop in cognizance is not yet here.
After he blew out the five candles I had put on his cake, we looked at me and said thanks for not making him blow out too many. And in the eyes, the twinkle was there. It may not be there for a whole lot longer, but it was there yesterday...and that was his gift to me.
Love you Pops.
For another view of dealing with an aging parent, please read "Watching The Light Fade: The Heartbreak Of The Inevitable."
Friday, February 10, 2012
Born To Run: You Know It
Did you ever have a day when you just wanted to fill up the tank and drive. Destination...anywhere. Having one of those days today. No big reason why, sometimes when you work from home...the walls close in a bit. Or, it could be I won't be headed out of town this weekend, no lake house therapy for me. Bummer. And I'm a driver. No riding shotgun for this girl, give me the wheel...I'm gone.
Years ago when a mood like this hit, it would be time to head down the shore. Yeah it's Jersey..we don't go to the beach, we go down the shore. The shore for me, is not so much about going to the beach...as it is breathing in the salt air, walking on the boardwalk and ducking into a dive bar at 2 in the afternoon. Times change, friends to party with in the middle of the afternoon are pretty scarce. Like the Allman Brothers sing "there's no one left to run with anymore."
I filled up the gas tank earlier, and for a minute I was so close...but there's a slate of things to do this weekend and nowhere on that list is any mention of the Parkway...south.
Oh well, it's almost the middle of February, can't complain about the winter...the days will be getting longer and one by one all of the gang will be getting itchy for a "sick" day. I'll be ready.
You can ride shotgun...I'm driving.
Years ago when a mood like this hit, it would be time to head down the shore. Yeah it's Jersey..we don't go to the beach, we go down the shore. The shore for me, is not so much about going to the beach...as it is breathing in the salt air, walking on the boardwalk and ducking into a dive bar at 2 in the afternoon. Times change, friends to party with in the middle of the afternoon are pretty scarce. Like the Allman Brothers sing "there's no one left to run with anymore."
I filled up the gas tank earlier, and for a minute I was so close...but there's a slate of things to do this weekend and nowhere on that list is any mention of the Parkway...south.
Oh well, it's almost the middle of February, can't complain about the winter...the days will be getting longer and one by one all of the gang will be getting itchy for a "sick" day. I'll be ready.
You can ride shotgun...I'm driving.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Moving Into Tweetville
So, if you've been reading my blogs you might remember that I've just started tweeting. Now I get it. It can be very addictive, especially to someone who works from home and sits in front of a computer screen all day. Following people you didn't know before and making new friends along the way. And people who actually know me can tell you, I am not the most people person.
So far, a shared interest in music and sports are what's making my life in tweetville entertaining. Finding people with shared life experiences who live in other states and countries is really a kick. Right now there's a few of us looking forward to the summer concert circuit...who, what and where. I think it's gonna be great! Being in touch with the bands and waiting on every detail of the music and tour dates. And while I won't be able to make all the shows I'd like to, I'm sure one of my twitter friends will give me a full blow-by-blow playback of what I missed. Not quite like being there, but a good enough fix, to be sure.
And just now I've realized the baseball season will have a new rivalry. Who says girls can't talk trash? As a woman who lives and breathes derek-jeter-in-a-baseball-uniform, I can't wait for the boys to get back on the field.
All this and it's only been two weeks. Looking forward to what other directions this tweet thing sends me.
All in 140 characters. Amazing.
So far, a shared interest in music and sports are what's making my life in tweetville entertaining. Finding people with shared life experiences who live in other states and countries is really a kick. Right now there's a few of us looking forward to the summer concert circuit...who, what and where. I think it's gonna be great! Being in touch with the bands and waiting on every detail of the music and tour dates. And while I won't be able to make all the shows I'd like to, I'm sure one of my twitter friends will give me a full blow-by-blow playback of what I missed. Not quite like being there, but a good enough fix, to be sure.
And just now I've realized the baseball season will have a new rivalry. Who says girls can't talk trash? As a woman who lives and breathes derek-jeter-in-a-baseball-uniform, I can't wait for the boys to get back on the field.
All this and it's only been two weeks. Looking forward to what other directions this tweet thing sends me.
All in 140 characters. Amazing.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
A Photographic Memory
Funny how the mind operates. I was going through a pile of old photos earlier. You know the kind, not the ones that are neatly stored in the computer or a photo album or even a storage box. No, I'm talking about the ones that never made it to any of those places...the big bag of miscellaneous pictures of everything from my parents in the 60s to vacations in the 90s.
Now I have lots of photos, and I have a pretty good idea in which album or box I can find any specific one. I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, but something inside my brain lets me know about stuff like that. And I was correct again today, the pictures I sought were indeed in the bag. But as I went through them, all the memories of those times from so very long ago, came flooding in. Most of the time you can't remember very much about what happened the day it was taken, but the frozen moment in time is as clear as day.
And you know what's so great about looking at the old photos...for the most part they are really good memories. That's why you took the picture in the first place. It was a good time and you wanted to remember it. And you do.
One of these days, I tell myself, I really need to organize these pictures before they get destroyed. Organization though, is not a dominant gene in my DNA make-up. It works for a little while, then poof, just like a New Year's resolution...gone. I may be a force of nature, but I do have my limitations. More likely, I will go to a craft store, buy another photo storage box and cram in as many as I can.
Lucky for me...I'll remember which ones are in there.
Now I have lots of photos, and I have a pretty good idea in which album or box I can find any specific one. I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, but something inside my brain lets me know about stuff like that. And I was correct again today, the pictures I sought were indeed in the bag. But as I went through them, all the memories of those times from so very long ago, came flooding in. Most of the time you can't remember very much about what happened the day it was taken, but the frozen moment in time is as clear as day.
And you know what's so great about looking at the old photos...for the most part they are really good memories. That's why you took the picture in the first place. It was a good time and you wanted to remember it. And you do.
One of these days, I tell myself, I really need to organize these pictures before they get destroyed. Organization though, is not a dominant gene in my DNA make-up. It works for a little while, then poof, just like a New Year's resolution...gone. I may be a force of nature, but I do have my limitations. More likely, I will go to a craft store, buy another photo storage box and cram in as many as I can.
Lucky for me...I'll remember which ones are in there.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Parade: Hold Up The Hardware Boys
Got a few thoughts on the parade today, they may be a bit scattered so just go with it.
Thought 1: As usual, last night I had no idea about what I would write today. Very rarely do I plan anything before I sit down at the keyboard. Usually it's just "pound & ground." Around three this morning as I'm wide awake again, I hear the overnight newscasters talking about the Giants ticker-tape parade. Neither of the anchors actually knew what ticker-tape was. Now I get it, they are probably too young to have actually seen ticker-tape streaming down from the NYC buildings, but it's not like New York hasn't had it's share of championship parades. In 2009 the Yankees had one and the Giants only four years ago. If you're in the news business, how have you never heard the phrase? And if you heard it, as a journalist, how do you not research the meaning? Just asking.
Thought 2: Yes, I am a Yankees fan, but no I have never been to a Yankees parade celebration. don't know why, just haven't. I might need to change that this fall.
Thought 3: I have been to two ticker-tape parades. The first was in 1991 and it was in honor of the returning heroes of the Gulf War. It was an experience not easily forgotten. America it seemed, was determined to embrace the returning war heroes in stark contrast to the fate that awaited returning Vets after the Viet Nam war. As you stood on the streets, you realized you weren't cheering on your winning team, you were cheering for your country. We spent the day talking to these guys, watching their faces light up as they were asked to sign autographs and even sharing a couple of beers with them. It was a good job done by them and the city who honored them.
Thought 4: The second ticker-tape parade was for my beloved New York Rangers. The fifty-four year drought was over. No more would we have to endure the chants of "1940." Those four playoff rounds were excruciating to live through. But the memories of them are still so strong. The prediction by the Captain, the Swooping Matteau and the endless icings and overtimes. But as Rangers fans, we knew it wouldn't be easy. I shut down my business the day of the parade, and the message on my answering machine was changed to "Because the Rangers have won the Stanley Cup...this office is closed for the day." It's all about priorities. Over a million people lined the downtown streets, but who walks directly in front of me? My ex-husband and his cousin. Two huge Ranger fans, it was great to be able to celebrate this championship together, as he was how I became a fan in the first place. Let's Go Rangers.
Thought 5: I won't be going to the parade today or the celebration down at the Meadowlands. I was at one celebration down there, although I can't remember if it was '86 or '90. And while Jersey doesn't offer the classic celebration of NYC, we do offer the stadium's parking lot. At 5 this morning, fans were setting up to tailgate. Before the fanfare inside the stadium, Giants fans will talk big, grill big and party like there's no tomorrow. And hopefully, it will be peaceful. It always is. Say what you will about New York-New Jersey fans, we don't riot, or turn over cars or beat up other teams' fans. It's all about love of the sport and self-pride.
Congratulation Giants, NY-NJ fans...let's show them how it's done.
Thought 1: As usual, last night I had no idea about what I would write today. Very rarely do I plan anything before I sit down at the keyboard. Usually it's just "pound & ground." Around three this morning as I'm wide awake again, I hear the overnight newscasters talking about the Giants ticker-tape parade. Neither of the anchors actually knew what ticker-tape was. Now I get it, they are probably too young to have actually seen ticker-tape streaming down from the NYC buildings, but it's not like New York hasn't had it's share of championship parades. In 2009 the Yankees had one and the Giants only four years ago. If you're in the news business, how have you never heard the phrase? And if you heard it, as a journalist, how do you not research the meaning? Just asking.
Thought 2: Yes, I am a Yankees fan, but no I have never been to a Yankees parade celebration. don't know why, just haven't. I might need to change that this fall.
Thought 3: I have been to two ticker-tape parades. The first was in 1991 and it was in honor of the returning heroes of the Gulf War. It was an experience not easily forgotten. America it seemed, was determined to embrace the returning war heroes in stark contrast to the fate that awaited returning Vets after the Viet Nam war. As you stood on the streets, you realized you weren't cheering on your winning team, you were cheering for your country. We spent the day talking to these guys, watching their faces light up as they were asked to sign autographs and even sharing a couple of beers with them. It was a good job done by them and the city who honored them.
Thought 4: The second ticker-tape parade was for my beloved New York Rangers. The fifty-four year drought was over. No more would we have to endure the chants of "1940." Those four playoff rounds were excruciating to live through. But the memories of them are still so strong. The prediction by the Captain, the Swooping Matteau and the endless icings and overtimes. But as Rangers fans, we knew it wouldn't be easy. I shut down my business the day of the parade, and the message on my answering machine was changed to "Because the Rangers have won the Stanley Cup...this office is closed for the day." It's all about priorities. Over a million people lined the downtown streets, but who walks directly in front of me? My ex-husband and his cousin. Two huge Ranger fans, it was great to be able to celebrate this championship together, as he was how I became a fan in the first place. Let's Go Rangers.
Thought 5: I won't be going to the parade today or the celebration down at the Meadowlands. I was at one celebration down there, although I can't remember if it was '86 or '90. And while Jersey doesn't offer the classic celebration of NYC, we do offer the stadium's parking lot. At 5 this morning, fans were setting up to tailgate. Before the fanfare inside the stadium, Giants fans will talk big, grill big and party like there's no tomorrow. And hopefully, it will be peaceful. It always is. Say what you will about New York-New Jersey fans, we don't riot, or turn over cars or beat up other teams' fans. It's all about love of the sport and self-pride.
Congratulation Giants, NY-NJ fans...let's show them how it's done.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Super Bowl: The Day After
gloat
[gloht] Show IPA
verb (used without object)
1.
to look at or think about with great or excessive, often smug or malicious, satisfaction: The opposing team gloated over our bad luck.
Do I take the high road or the low road? hmmm. Mom always told me to act like a lady...however that was never my strong suit.
But yes, I will behave. It was a great game. Nothing was certain until the clock ran out. We all ate too much, drank too much and are now facing a long workday. Suck it up people, it was worth it.
Tomorrow we have a parade, then we turn our eyes on green grass and the 90 feet between each base. Officially, at least by my calendar, we are in baseball mode. Bring it on.
First Yankees game, April 6.
Opening Day, April 13.
First Yankees-Red Sox game in Fenway April 20.
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play
Sunday, February 5, 2012
To Pee Or Not To Pee
Yesterday I found this interesting little article about a pair of Red-Lipped Urinals that are in a Rolling Stones fan museum in Germany. I kid you not. So I offered a challenge on Twitter to any other blogger who might be interested, to write a post about it. I'm just curious as to what we can come up with. We'll see if anyone decides to, um...step up to the challenge.
So here we go.
Apparently these pissholes (pardon the expression) are causing quite a stir in the area. Feminists are up in arms over the idea of guys, well we all know what they'd be doing, into what looks like a woman's mouth. Ah, lighten' up. Now I haven't spent very much time in Men's restrooms, aside from the few.."there's no one in there, guard the door" moments or the "walking in the wrong door" mistake, but I just gotta say...these urinals are really pretty and so clean. Now the museum's founder has denied it representing a woman's mouth or a man's mouth...or even a mouth. Huh? That ain't a mouth?
Apparently these urinals are there to stay, I'm just curious to see if they paid any kind of attention to the Women's restroom.
I might have a few ideas about that.
Any bloggers up to the challenge, leave your post link in the comment area.
So here we go.
Apparently these pissholes (pardon the expression) are causing quite a stir in the area. Feminists are up in arms over the idea of guys, well we all know what they'd be doing, into what looks like a woman's mouth. Ah, lighten' up. Now I haven't spent very much time in Men's restrooms, aside from the few.."there's no one in there, guard the door" moments or the "walking in the wrong door" mistake, but I just gotta say...these urinals are really pretty and so clean. Now the museum's founder has denied it representing a woman's mouth or a man's mouth...or even a mouth. Huh? That ain't a mouth?
Apparently these urinals are there to stay, I'm just curious to see if they paid any kind of attention to the Women's restroom.
I might have a few ideas about that.
Any bloggers up to the challenge, leave your post link in the comment area.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Old Is Old: It Is What It Is
Writing the music blog is easy. If I feel something, I can always relate it to music in some way. This life blog is tougher. As someone who works from home, well most of the time it's me and the dog...and she doesn't come up with many good ideas. But in writing, thy name is discipline...so sometimes you really need a kick in the butt to get yourself going. Or a walk around the lake.
About ten minutes into the stroll, started thinking about how I never took this walk when we first bought the weekend house eleven years ago. Even though I am now "older", I can do it and try to every weekend. That word though...older. Is it really so bad? Depends on the age.
As a kid, you want to be older, but as my fellow blogger Jim Wood wrote in a post titled "Young As I Want To Be"..not so good when your kids friends describe you that way. And Jim, while I never got the enemas, there was some Peter, Paul & Mary in my past. In your early 40s getting called old ain't pretty. Trust me, over the half century mark..you won't give a shit.
Another word for old is mature. My mother once said I was mature for my age, but I was thirteen then and I don't think she was talking about by attitude and presence. Don't call me mature, I'd rather be old. A mature fruit will shrivel, and that's not a good look for me. Old is old, once you're there, nothing changes until taps is played. Fine by me.
This old girl has had a lot of fun in those many years. Do I wish I was younger, hell yeah...but that's not in the cards. So I'll just keep wearing my dancin' boots, and keep on rockin'..until someone dares to call me elderly.
Please let the world end before that happens.
About ten minutes into the stroll, started thinking about how I never took this walk when we first bought the weekend house eleven years ago. Even though I am now "older", I can do it and try to every weekend. That word though...older. Is it really so bad? Depends on the age.
As a kid, you want to be older, but as my fellow blogger Jim Wood wrote in a post titled "Young As I Want To Be"..not so good when your kids friends describe you that way. And Jim, while I never got the enemas, there was some Peter, Paul & Mary in my past. In your early 40s getting called old ain't pretty. Trust me, over the half century mark..you won't give a shit.
Another word for old is mature. My mother once said I was mature for my age, but I was thirteen then and I don't think she was talking about by attitude and presence. Don't call me mature, I'd rather be old. A mature fruit will shrivel, and that's not a good look for me. Old is old, once you're there, nothing changes until taps is played. Fine by me.
This old girl has had a lot of fun in those many years. Do I wish I was younger, hell yeah...but that's not in the cards. So I'll just keep wearing my dancin' boots, and keep on rockin'..until someone dares to call me elderly.
Please let the world end before that happens.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
And Now My Damn Feet Hurt
Quick trip to the mall to order my new eyeglasses, stop at Staples...back home. Because I didn't think I'd have to walk too far, I wore my new dancin' boots, trying to break them in. Bad job by me.
The eyeglass store moved its location from one side of the mall to the other...and this is a big freakin' mall. I couldn't find the mall directory at first, so I just started walking...got distracted by a few stores and some nice shoes..kept walking and finally found the directory. The eyeglass store was polar opposite of where I was standing....damn.
Start walking back, past Victoria's Secret...almost got distracted again, but too much pink and red Valentine's party favors...dear God, when did their stuff get so ugly. Finally get to the store and the frame I had seen in one store was nowhere to be found in the one I went to today...double damn.
Out of the mall to Staples, where they didn't have what I wanted either. Seriously...I really haven't been too much of a bitch lately, what happened to my good karma.
Back home with nothing to show for it. And my damn feet hurt. At least tomorrow is Friday...glass half full...waiting on the good karma.
The eyeglass store moved its location from one side of the mall to the other...and this is a big freakin' mall. I couldn't find the mall directory at first, so I just started walking...got distracted by a few stores and some nice shoes..kept walking and finally found the directory. The eyeglass store was polar opposite of where I was standing....damn.
Start walking back, past Victoria's Secret...almost got distracted again, but too much pink and red Valentine's party favors...dear God, when did their stuff get so ugly. Finally get to the store and the frame I had seen in one store was nowhere to be found in the one I went to today...double damn.
Out of the mall to Staples, where they didn't have what I wanted either. Seriously...I really haven't been too much of a bitch lately, what happened to my good karma.
Back home with nothing to show for it. And my damn feet hurt. At least tomorrow is Friday...glass half full...waiting on the good karma.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
IPhone...I Fun
Got an IPhone yesterday. Never in my life have I delighted so much in a piece of technology. Finally there is something useful AND fun.
Back in December, I got an email from my friend, the drum-mamma. In the fall she sent away for tickets to the Anderson Cooper daytime talk show, forgot about it, then received an email from the show with tickets for a specific date. Wanna go? A day in the city with a veteran partner-in-crime...hell yeah.
As it turned out, the taping was for the Christmas show and there were gifts. Yay. After sitting through a feel-good show, kind of boring...and an audience bell-ringing exercise (sorry I don't do class participation...blame it on the attitude thing) they brought out the gifts. Quite nice, from candy and cupcakes to coffee makers...the damn bell, and the piece de resistance...a Blackberry Bold. Very nice, but only for AT&T. With Verizon the only carrier that makes it out to the boonies (AKA the weekend house), had to sell it and buy my new phone of choice.
Coming home from the store yesterday with the new phone, I was mildly excited. After playing with it, setting up all my email accounts and the twitter thing...well, it's not better than sex...but definitely better than white bread. And, I haven't even started downloading apps yet.
Now, on a daily basis I don't lead the most exciting life...although it does have its moments. But I do try to find enjoyment wherever I can. Right now, it's a little piece of metal and plastic...it even has some bitch named Siri inside that seems to know everything.
I've officially joined the cult. Lead me to the App store.
Back in December, I got an email from my friend, the drum-mamma. In the fall she sent away for tickets to the Anderson Cooper daytime talk show, forgot about it, then received an email from the show with tickets for a specific date. Wanna go? A day in the city with a veteran partner-in-crime...hell yeah.
As it turned out, the taping was for the Christmas show and there were gifts. Yay. After sitting through a feel-good show, kind of boring...and an audience bell-ringing exercise (sorry I don't do class participation...blame it on the attitude thing) they brought out the gifts. Quite nice, from candy and cupcakes to coffee makers...the damn bell, and the piece de resistance...a Blackberry Bold. Very nice, but only for AT&T. With Verizon the only carrier that makes it out to the boonies (AKA the weekend house), had to sell it and buy my new phone of choice.
Coming home from the store yesterday with the new phone, I was mildly excited. After playing with it, setting up all my email accounts and the twitter thing...well, it's not better than sex...but definitely better than white bread. And, I haven't even started downloading apps yet.
Now, on a daily basis I don't lead the most exciting life...although it does have its moments. But I do try to find enjoyment wherever I can. Right now, it's a little piece of metal and plastic...it even has some bitch named Siri inside that seems to know everything.
I've officially joined the cult. Lead me to the App store.
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