Tidbits for Women

MESSAGE from the blogger: I’ll be taking a hiatus from my regular posting for awhile, beginning next weekend. Catch you again sometime in late June or July.

The April 13 issue of Advertising Age carried a number of interesting tidbits about women that caught my attention. I’m not sure if it was just a coincidence that they all ended up in the same issue, or if that assemblage was intentional on the part of the editors. Whatever the reason, I’m sharing them here.

The cover of Golf Digest’s Fitness & Power Issue featured a half-naked Lexi Thompson, a professional golfer. A drying towel is draped strategically around her neck. Ms. Thompson was so proud of her cover girl status that she tweeted about it, saying she was “pumped to represent fitness & power. #girlpower”

Shaunna Taylor, co-chair of the Canadian Sport Psychology Association took exception, tweeting that an “unnecessarily topless cover photo is not… empowering to the women’s game.” Though my husband and I now live on a TPC golf course, I don’t feel informed enough to weigh in on this issue. I just hope I don’t see Lexi golfing half-naked on the fairway behind us one day.

Lane Bryant, the marketer of clothes size 14 to 28, has a new ad campaign for “real women” (à la Dove soap). In the print ad, the tag line #ImNoAngel is superimposed over a group of plus size models in sexy bras and panties. There’s a TV version as well. Way to go, LB girls! The idea pokes fun at the popular Victoria’s Secret campaign that features rake thin models wearing scanty lingerie, feathered wings and smiles. Can’t wait ‘til someone does a similar ad featuring seniors with silver wings and golden halos.

Speaking of rake thin models, the government of France is considering a law that will impose fines of up to $82,000 on clothing designers who use emaciated models. Since most runway ladies would qualify as emaciated IMHO, I’m not sure how the French define that term.  Additionally, using these stick figures can result in up to six months of jail time. Finally, if the ads for those clothiers have been Photoshopped to make the babes look more Twiggy-like, this needs to be disclosed (not sure to whom). All together now: Vive la France!

On the opposite side of the world, the ad consortium Grey Group Singapore has partnered with Neelvasant Medical Foundation and Research Centre on a program that is focused on women’s health. They’re providing women in rural India with bindis that are designed to dispense iodine. Iodine deficiency is a major problem in that part of the world. The bindi is a traditional adornment for these women, making it a practical solution. The campaign is called “Life-Saving Dot.” Score one for the creative and culturally sensitive use of resources.

What strikes me most about these four media items is the scope of the information. We go from covers that reflect male chauvinistic attitudes to efforts to lift up real women to programs to improve women’s health in disadvantaged areas of the world. I suppose women should be grateful that only one of the four pieces objectified a woman and that at least one of the four addressed a serious health issue in a creative way. Baby steps, but worth celebrating nonetheless.

Here’s to women everywhere, whatever their shape or age, no matter where they call home. This seems like a good note to end on before my blogging break.

Retirees’ Triads

Pampers has a new tag line. It’s a take off on the book and the movie: Eat, Pray, Love. Procter and Gamble tweaked the diaper version to Love, Sleep, Play. To which I snorted: “For people our age, it’s more like: Eat, Pray for Sleep, Eat Something Else.” This got me thinking about other well-known triads and how they might be revised for retirees.

One that comes to mind immediately is Veni, Vidi, Vici. (I came, I saw, I conquered.) The seniors’ adaptation has to be: I came, I forgot why I came, so I left. Another from literature is Keats’ “beloved trinity”—“Give me women, wine and snuff untill I cry out ‘Hold, enough!’” With minor alterations it’s a favorite of ladies who’ve migrated to Florida. “Give me women, wine and Mah Jong ‘til I cry out ‘Enough already!’”

Some of the revised groupings are inspired by health issues that plague many older folks. The patriotic red, white and blue are phonetically modified into bread, wheat and gluten—foods to be avoided by those with sensitive digestive tracts. The western The Good, the Bad and the Ugly mutates into The Cane, the Walker, and the Wheelchair. That popular lunch sandwich—bacon, lettuce and tomato? It’s still bacon, lettuce and tomato—but now it’s things we have trouble chewing or digesting.

Then we have trios of noises, or groups that morph into them. Let’s begin with Snap, Crackle and Pop—the sounds of a beloved breakfast cereal. These days, snap, crackle and pop are still morning sounds, but they’re the ones we make when we first get up. Remember the rock band Earth, Wind and Fire? They’re now Gurgle, Windy and Fart. (Oh, don’t give me that look. You know you were thinking something similar.)

Famous threesomes from TV and movies get makeovers as we age. The Three Stooges are no longer Moe, Curly and Larry. They’re now Bald, Frizzy and Flyaway—our hairstyles. The Marx brothers, Chico, Harpo and Groucho, have become Cheeky, Harpy and Grouchy—our personalities. The Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Woodsman morph into the Couch Hippo, Frightful Hair Crow and Titanium Knees Man.

How about the gifts the Three Wise Men brought to the manger—Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh? If they were coming to see us today, they’d bring presents that are more age appropriate, like cold compresses, Airwick and Vaporub. Meanwhile, The Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria translate into a trinity that grandparents and great aunts everywhere will love—Nana, Pop-pop and Tanta Mariuccia.

Then there’s the classic baseball play: “Tinker to Evers to Chance.” It’s now: “Don’t Tinker with the TV remote settings, because it will take forEver to figure them out again. We only found PBS by Chance.”

We also have famous three-part mottos. The words of the French Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité still translate into Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. But for senior citizens they mean we still have some mobility, our socks match, and to keep in touch with our family and friends, we need an iPhone. The Olympic motto Citius, Altius, Fortius (Faster, Higher, Stronger) stays the same, but it now refers to our heartbeat, our blood pressure and our body odor.

We still enjoy the Sun, Moon and Stars. However, if your night vision has evolved in sync with your age, the sun often appears to be glowing around streetlights at night. You may go to bed too early to appreciate the celestial moon, but you can still catch a glimpse when a gentleman with stretched-out Sansabelts bends over. And the stars are what we’re assured every one of our friend’s grandchildren are, as we look at yet another dozen photos from their ballet recitals.

Let’s consider a holistic triad—Mind, Body and Soul. We must nurture all of these if we aspire to lead a long, full life. Some maxims to follow to make this happen are: Don’t mind anything your neighbors say about you. Don’t look at your body in the mirror unless you have on at least two layers of clothing. And if you want to cultivate your soul, forget those Chicken Soup books. Read Retirement Sparks every week.

Lastly, referring to the biological classifications Animal, Vegetable, Mineral: Seniors are told to avoid red meat, get plenty of roughage and keep hydrated with lots of water, not wine. As if that’s going to happen.

Signs It’s Time for Spring Cleaning

We’re expecting houseguests from overseas in about three weeks, which has me assessing the cleaning needs in our condo. I’ve never claimed to be a Suzy Homemaker and the current state of our home shows it. I did answer to Suzy Potts at one time, however.

That was a nickname from my parents. At least, I thought it was until sometime in my twenties. Turns out they were saying “you’re crazy” in the Italian dialect of my mother’s family. I misunderstood and they chose not to disabuse me of the idea that it was a term of endearment. I signed cards to them “Love, Suzy Potts” even after I learned the truth. But I digress. Back to house cleaning. (See, I even resist writing about it.)

I dust everything and clean the floors at least twice a year. (Don’t panic. The sinks and toilets get regular scrubbings.) After decades of dealing with this on a seasonal basis, I’ve collected some wisdom on the topic. To prove that I’m not totally without knowledge of this subject, I’m sharing it with you. You know it’s time for spring cleaning when…

You can write your name on every horizontal surface, discover a spelling error, and rewrite in the same place to correct it. That’s a lot of dust, my friends.

You realize that your cats, which are mostly white, are suddenly gray instead. Sadly, I no longer have this visual barometer of the need to clean. I’m considering wearing white socks around the house so I’ll have a similar indicator in my tool kit.

You take off your house shoes when you leave the condo so you don’t track dirt outside. (Think about that one a minute.)

The bathroom mirror has more toothpaste splatter than your face has age spots. Or maybe those are meal tidbits that got trapped in your caps and were liberated by dental floss. Apologizes if this is TMI for some of you.

You invite people to visit so you’re forced to finally clean. I probably shouldn’t admit to this. The next time I invite folks over, they’re likely to be offended at being used like that.

You don’t need your glasses to see the dust balls on the floor. I’m talking about when you’re just walking around the place, not when you’re down on your hands and knees, inspecting for areas that might need special attention.

You’re refilling your allergy pills at least once a week and the pollen season isn’t even here yet. It’s amazing the havoc dust can wreak on one’s sinuses.

You’re buying the large size bottles of saline nasal spray and you have one in every bathroom in your house. This makes the perfect companion to allergy pills, by the way.

You can see your breath when you exhale, but not because it’s so cold in your house. They’re called “dust clouds” and they’re especially visible in the sunlight that streams through your ceiling-high living room windows.

When you do your floor exercises in the morning, your body leaves an imprint like a snow angel in the dust buildup. (You shouldn’t have donated that yoga mat when you downsized.)

There you have it. Ten things that clue me in that it’s time to clean the house. When I see a confluence of four or more of them, I put the task on my iCal with an intrusive audio reminder. When the count reaches six, I stop using the “remind me again in xx minutes” feature. Of course, when guests are coming, I’m forced to face the job before they’re due to arrive. Which means I’m getting out the vacuum as soon as I finish this post, but please don’t call me Suzy Homemaker.