Minimalism

Fall came one cold night last weekend, and I am doing OK.

Bird Rock Hotel, San Juan Island, WA

Have you ever gone away, stayed at a nice hotel or resort, and even though the space is limited, thought, "I could live like this"? The closets are empty, save for the clothes you brought along in that one suitcase and carry on, you have flip flops and decent walking shoes, and your toothbrush has been charged to last a week.  What else do you really need? There is no clutter, few choices to make, and little or nothing to dust or clean.  Simplicity, I wish I knew you better.  

Even the word minimalism is too busy and cluttered.  Maybe we could use a few less letters also.

Mayhem at the Cinema

Four days of rain, rain go away, but I am doing OK.

I have mentioned before that I love to go to the cinema. When I was a girl under 12,  my friend Peggy, my brother Fran and I would go to the Saturday afternoon matinee where we would see two movies, three or more cartoons, an adventure serial, and a Newsreel.  For forty-two cents each, my parents got rid of  us for the whole day, something I am sure they thought was well worth the money.   Of course, before we went, mom would check the Legion of Decency to make sure everything was on the "A" list.

After marriage, convincing hubby to take me to the movies was not easy and it took years before he would relent, as sitting in an uncomfortable seat and eating stale and heart-stopping oily popcorn, was not first on his list of entertainment.  However, after years of nagging pleading, he gave in and before long he was a cinema aficionado.  When they recently built a theater near us with double wide seats and rows, a menu of good bistro food and a full bar, along with pleasant waiters, he thought he died and went to heaven.  Going to the movies and being served a salad and sandwich (or such), accompanied by a glass (or bottle) of Pino Noir is an idea whose time has come. 



Today, though,  it is difficult for me to find a movie that I would enjoy seeing.  They all seem to be of one genre, "blow them up, shoot them up, destroy, and kill, kill, kill.   In order to be fair to friends whose choice of movie usually has to do with car chases and shooting automatic weapons, we sometimes have to fold, throw in the towel, acquiesce agree to their choices when they accompany us to the theater. 



Last Saturday, we saw the number one movie in the country, Taken 2  Where do I begin? Liam Nissan plays a CIA operative whose wife has been kidnapped by some eastern fellows.  They are seeking revenge because Liam killed thousands of them (or it seemed like that) in Taken 1 where his daughter was kidnapped and almost sold into slavery.  Liam, who is getting long in the tooth, wipes them out with various weapons, but not before he beats 5 or so up at any one time with his bare hands.  During all this, he only gets a scratch on his left cheek bone and a little blood smeared around his mouth.  To add to this, he and his daughter (who has not passed her driver's license test) race their car through the streets of the crowded city, while being chased and shot at and crashing into other vehicles and stores along the way.  Cars are being tossed in the air and mayhem ensues but there is not a mark on their car.  They head for the US Embassy and as they barrel in, knocking down gates and with bullets from machine guns flying at them, they finally stop and surprise, surprise, they have no apparent injuries.  The car though finally has some damage.  There are some bullet holes on the front hood and a small sideswipe on the side.  I guess they wanted to show that the good people at the embassy could hit a speeding car.  However, they showed quite a few soldiers with these heavy duty weapons shooting at the vehicle but there are only about 8 holes in the front of the car.  Not a good advertisement for the military.  A ten year old kid with less than a week of playing video games could do better.

Not my cup of tea, but the saving grace is that I was drinking something stronger than tea.

For those that like this type of movie, I have good news.  Right before Liam kills the last man standing, we find out that his nemesis has two more sons who will also seek revenge.  And here I thought he had done in the whole country.

If there was a Legion of the Mindless, this one would get five stars.

The Way We Go

Almost done with my gardening and besides having a bad back, I am doing OK.


Admit it, one of the first three things you read in the newspaper is the obituaries.  We look to see who younger than us has died, what they died of (wondering if we have any of the symptoms of that disease), and possibly in these days of high unemployment, a new job opening. 


Some obits are just the bare facts, some are lovingly written, and others detail all the wonderful things the deceased has experienced in their lives.  Then there is this trend of showing a picture of the dearly departed that was taken decades before.  I like that and am thinking I would want to have a head shot of myself when I was 21 photo-shopped on the bikini clad body of Marilyn Monroe for my memorial.  I think that might generate more interest in reading about my rather ordinary life.  This would be my last hurrah and why not go out leaving that memory behind. 


Last week our local newspaper printed a rather long obituary about a man who lived to be 80, had contributed much to society, and was quite an interesting character.  However, it was the first paragraph that got me.

 "Joe Smith (not real name) departed this earthly cathedral for his last trip on June 6, 2012.  The mode of transportation was unannounced by the Lord, but it is hoped it was by air to meet St Peter, though it may have been a short cruise across the River Styx to meet the horned fellow." 

I wonder if his ex-wife had anything to do with this.  My feeling though is that this was the work of the late gentleman who had a sense of humor.

It is always good to leave them laughing.







 

Having One of "Those" Days

It must be Monday and I think I am doing OK, or maybe not.









I have seen/heard this joke many times, but it always makes me laugh.  Maybe because it has become my life now.

Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone.

Photo Prompt, May 28, 2012

A holiday weekend and I am doing OK.


Photo Prompt Monday



Mondays PhotoPrompt is a laid back project wherein anyone at anytime can join in..post a picture on a Monday, write something generated by the prompt (prose/poetry/long/short/fiction/nonfiction), read, critique...whatever stirs your pot. You have all week to think about what you want to write (or not). That's just how we roll lol.

If you are going to post a PhotoPrompt or are going to write about a PhotoPrompt or are planning to do some reading and may enjo critiquing please leave a note in comments so everyone can follow
over to your place and see what's happening.

Current list of participants:

Austanspace

thecontemplativecat

Empty Nest Insider

Elephant's Child

That Amy Saia

Starting Over, Accepting Changes - Maybe

Sweet Tea Reads

June, the wedding month, is almost here. So here is a picture of a young couple taking the chance and committing themselves to each other.  It is a start of a new life and there is much to look forward, much to dream about, and much to share.  May the years be good, may the troubles be few and may the memories be filled with times of laughter and joy.

Brain Farts, It's Mind Boggling

Moving out of the fog and doing OK

As we age, we become more sensitive to and frightened of "losing it".  I read recently that people fear getting dementia more than they do cancer.  This is understandable, since many cancers are treatable, but a disease of the brain is a dark journey where no one wants to go.

I have always had the theory that the minute you have children, the degeneration begins.    Actually, I think they start sucking out your brain cells while in utero.  By the time they leave home, you are no longer the person you once were, and much of the grey matter has been depleted during the intervening years.  My life in the past few years has been all about:

Where are my keys?

Gosh, I just had my glasses.......

"How come I can't work the TV any longer?

What am I looking for?

What is that word I want to say?

What was I talking about?

and it is all driving me crazy.
(so to speak)

However, according to LiveScience.com, many of the things that you worry about are just natural occurrences and not to be worried about.   For example:

-    How often have you walked into a room only to forget why you are there?  It is not Alzheimer's catching up with you, it is the door itself.  Psychologists have discovered that passing trough a doorway triggers what is known as and "event boundary" in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next.  Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank slate for the new locale.  The answer might be to move into a one room house, with no closets.

-  Talking to yourself might not mean you are crazy.  Studies have shown that it can actually benefit thinking and perception.  Besides, we will never find a more interested listener.  
 - Zoning Out.  No matter how hard we might try to stay focused on an everyday task, such as brushing our teeth or queuing for coffee, we simply can't stop our minds from wandering. Fortunately, those bizarre bouts of cognition sans awareness known as "zoning out" are actually a good thing. They’re vital to creativity and imaginative thought.

Instead of staying completely focused on a dull and familiar external stimulus, neuroscience research shows that our attention waxes and wanes, and we spend 13 percent of the time "zoned out." During this time, we are free to float along internal streams of consciousness, following wherever our minds randomly take us — perhaps arriving at a "eureka!" moment, or at the very least, a spontaneous and interesting ideathing and perception.  Works for me!

As I have been questioning my capabilities lately, this was very good news indeed. It turns out I really am  OK, at least until I go through a doorway.

Radio Days

The ants have left the building and I am doing OK.




Amy Saia,  http://thatamysaia.blogspot.com/,  a very talented writer, singer and all around nice person.wrote a post recently which included an old Bill Cosby album detailing his childhood experiences listening to "scary" programs on the radio. It was so funny and it made me remember running from the room in fear while my parents sat closely around the radio listening to The Shadow on Sunday evenings. Oh, how the radio could spur the imagination and take you in like no other medium.  The voices, the music, the sound effects, all put you right inside the story.  You were a part of the drama and you felt every little bump in the night. 

                                      

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?

The Shadow knows. . . . .

Years ago my mom recounted the story to me of the famous Orson Welles' narration of the radio broadcast of "War of the Worlds".  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this, it happened in 1938 on Halloween night.  The 60 minute broadcast of the H.G. Wells's novel was presented as news bulletins on The Mercury Theater on the Air and described how aliens had invaded New Jersey. It was only announced twice that this was a docudrama, once at the beginning and the other near the end.  There were no commercial breaks which made it seem all the more real and as people turned their radios on to that station, they believed that the Martians had landed and we were at war.   There are tales of panic and people running from their homes.  Fifty-five minutes into it,  Welles' reminded the listeners that the broadcast was a Halloween presentation, and then anger ensued. My mom never admitted that she was one of the victims, but she did tell me that my grandfather was very upset by the whole matter.  The outrage over this incident was played up by the news media ( which at that time was only the newspapers) in order to disparage the radio industry which was their only competition.

In this year of a presidential election, we are having our own War of the Worlds or even more suitable, War of the Words. Frightening things will be said, monsters will be created, and this docudrama will be played out 24 hours a day until November.  Lordy, lordy, it's time to panic and head for the hills, but really, is there anyplace to hide?  Those political telemarketers will find you, no matter what.  I'd rather the Martians land.

A Day in Hades

Winter is almost gone, although it never really arrived, and I am doing OK


I do not usually do the food shopping.  When we were first married, we used to do this outing together, but then I kept having babies, so hubby took over that chore.  He loves doing it, I hate it and so this worked out perfectly for both of us.  Now and then I will run to the store to get a limited number of items that I have written on a list and only enjoy it if the store is small and  running the aisles does not take up a great deal of time.  Hubby can be gone for up to three hours and will go from store to store looking for simple items.  He looks over each purchase, checking dates, prices and flaws.  He does all the right things; I don't.  I want to get in and get out.  However, when I shop, we actually have the makings for a meal; when hubby shops, we have cartons of paper towels, plastic bags, and the latest new blue food.  "New, blue, and improved" is his mantra.  This is one of the reasons we eat out quite a bit.

Last week we couple-shopped at one of the largest grocery stores known to man.  It is called Wegman's and is a heaven for foodies with time on their hands. These stores can have 140,000 square feet with aisles going here, there and everywhere.  The store is packed with over 70,000 food and non-food products, large masses of people with giant grocery carts and what seems like more employees than the federal government.  Many of the departments were giving out samples that day  and hubby was on a master-quest not to miss any of them.  We must have sampled 4 or 5 soups, tasted all types of imported and local cheese, had my arm twisted to try a decadent dessert, and finished up with some beer. During all of this, I managed to pick out some things to buy, but hubby took each item out of the basket to check over and give his seal of approval. Consequently, most of what I had put in the basket went back on the shelf.  I was getting heartburn from not only the food that I had consumed on the run, but from the anxiety of shopping together in a store that was out of my element.   It is not that I did not appreciate all the variety, but the crowds, the expanse of the store, the time wasted looking for items that always seemed to be on the other side (which was like a mile down the road), but mostly it was the shopping-togetherness that was causing heart palpitations - big time.  After two and a half hours we made it outside with our four or five little bags of cheese and ingredients to make tomato-basil soup. Before we left, hubby did suggest that we stop at Wegman's restaurant for more to eat and maybe a glass of fine wine.  He had no idea that I was not having fun.  How could he have missed my crazed eyes, my quivering chin and my body language of angst, pure angst.  A glass of wine, no way, I needed the whole bottle after a trip like that. 

I had to get a physical checkup a few weeks ago before I underwent a small procedure last week. My sweet old doctor asked me how I was doing in my retirement.  After I told him that things were improving, he left me with some sage advice for long-term couples.  He reminded me of the marriage vow, "in sickness and in health", then he added the line, "but never lunch."  To expand upon that, I would include "and never shop together at Wegman's unless you want till death do you part to come sooner.

I think next time we should try four-aisle Trader Joe's. It's all about baby steps.  Maybe then we can work our way up to a 6 aisle Whole Foods in a year or so.

Yes, baby steps, that's the ticket!

Keeping Secrets

Really annoyed but doing OK


This past week, an almost 70 year old woman has been hawking a book about her 18 month affair  with the late President Kennedy while she was a 19 year old intern at the White House.  We all know of the many dalliances of this flawed human being, and you can fill a wing of a library with what has been written about him, his beautiful wife and the things that went on before and during his presidency.   Regardless of how you feel about this man though, isn't enough, enough.  I don't care about one more woman who bedded him. His reputation as a ladies man has been out there for over fifty years, so what else is new?  This lady (?) though, apparently tells all the lurid details, not leaving out any of the salacious acts that she claims to have done with the president and his aide.  She said she had kept this secret for 50 years and writing this book gave her a voice.  It is not a voice I need to hear. She used the word "mortify" as she described her feelings about one particular incident in her book.  How could she not be mortified in writing about it though.  In telling her secret, she will make loads of money, she will be a celebrity for about 15 minutes and then she will go away. She is just a less than minor blip in the news. The Kennedys will get over it as they have gotten over so much more in their lives  However, this author's family will know her differently, and I can't imagine that they are all proud. 

If they serve no good purpose and can possibly hurt innocent people, some secrets should go to the grave with us.  Our good name is all we have and to sell it for 30 pieces of silver, seems so repugnant. We should want to leave this world with class, not crass.

Every now and then I feel the need to get on a soapbox. 

Speak of the Devil

Being nice around difficult people



Things I said                                        What I was thinking


1) Oh sure---------------------------------------- No way.
2) Beautiful baby----------------------------- Looks like your father-in-law.
3) We have to do lunch ------------------  On a Sunday, in the middle of the week.
4) I'd love to help, call me -------------- Thank God, I have caller ID.
5) Wow, that's some colorful outfit.--- Wow, that's some colorful outfit!
6) Whatever you want --------------------- You always get  your way anyhow.
7) I respect your opinion ------------------ Idiot.
8) You haven't changed a bit ---------- Some people never grow up.
9)  I'm happy for you ----------------------- You braggart
10) No --------------------------------------------- I wonder if it included dinner


I was taught to be a kind person and I hope that I have been that.   There are times though, when I am in a conversation with someone that I have considered mean and spiteful, that I have held my tongue for the want of not lowering myself to their standards.  Sometimes, after I leave the situation, I mutter to myself for hours about how I should have spoken up or just slammed them with a biting remark.   Nah, that wouldn't work for me, I am too guilt ridden, and besides, what I think doesn't  matter to them anyway.


I am already feeling bad about writing this, but you won't tell anyone about my dark side, will you?