Say What?

The older I get, the more I find myself thinking: “Say what?” Sometimes it’s because I read something incorrectly. Other times I heard it wrong. I think I suffer from audio-dyslexia. Pieces get switched around and what I hear bears very little resemblance to what was said. Still other times it’s not my fault. People just say and write the most bizarre things.

My audio-dyslexia manifests itself several ways. Sometimes I flip vowels. Sometimes I flip consonants. Sometimes I flip entire syllables. I’ll even insert or eliminate letters altogether. More often I just plain mishear.

I had lunch out with friends yesterday. The husband wondered what was in the prime rib omelet. “What an odd combination,” thought I. Actually not so odd, because he was looking at a fine herbs omelet. Let me explain how this works. My brain audioed an almost-rhyming “prime” for “fine.” Then it audio-dyslexia switched the “e” and the “r” in herb (the “h” was silent), giving “reb,” which became “rib.” Really quite logical, for a brain gone haywire.

My husband (whose store is near several colleges) told me the other day, “The students are back.” To which I replied, “You glued your aunt’s black what?” Here we have another principle operating, that of inserting audio word-breaks where they don’t belong. So, his statement sounded to me like: “Stud (long “u”) ents black (inserting an errant “l”). You can take it from here. By the way, I never met any of his aunts; they were all deceased long before we married. Go figure.

My visual dyslexia is rather like the autocomplete on a computer, only my brain is doing it as I’m reading. For example, there was an ad in the right margin of my email screen recently with the query: Mortgage Underwear? “Say what?” I asked myself. Turns out it said: Mortgage Underwater? My visual dyslexia switched the “a” and the “e” in "water" and deleted the “t” for good measure.

Swapping out vowels in words I read seems to be one of my more regular visual problems. I was reading a map of North Carolina and chortled when I saw the town of “Old Fart.” I know a lot of people retire to North Carolina, but did they have to name a town after these “old farts?” Turns out, no they didn’t. The town is actually Old Fort.

One category that can be counted on to provide fodder for the “Say What?” list is email subjects, especially those that are spam. Take for instance one I received a few weeks ago, titled: “Be the man you used to be.” Newsflash: Despite those who will swear I have a pair of brass ones, I never was a man. Besides, time marches on. There’s no way I could ever be the woman I used to be. I could aspire to be the woman I’d like to be. Or to be like the woman I used to be. But technically, I think, not ever to be the woman I used to be.

I’ve seen some other things online that drove me to a “Say What” that might be typos. Or they might actually be Freudian slips. First there was “athlettes.” A typo? Or a more delicate term for female athletes? You be the judge.

My favorite one of these is a recent Facebook item from a friend who encouraged us to share her post on our own pages, because it would bring us lots of money. She admitted that she didn’t know exactly how it worked, but it definitely had something to do with “the Chinese art of Fungus Shiue.”

After my initial “Say what?” I figured out she must have meant Feng Shui (which is pronounced Fung Shway). Too late. I kept picturing that poster people hang in their office. The one that reads: “I feel like a mushroom here. They keep me in the dark and feed me lots of bulls - - t.” I admit that I consulted a Feng Shui book before I put our house on the market (fat lot of good it did me), but most folks think it’s just a load of bs. So, Fungus Shiue might have been a Freudian slip after all.

The next time you hear me mutter: “Say what?” don’t think I didn’t hear you. I heard you perfectly clearly, as far as I was concerned. Just not necessarily the way you meant to be heard. If that bothers you, go fry a bike.

Retirement Tips — Feng Shui for Retirees

Feng shui holds that our environment is filled with Chi, or energy. At its core, feng shui is about promoting balance to maximize positive energy. If there’s one thing that retirees can use help with, it’s balance. I’ve plumbed the Internet for feng shui guidance tailored to our needs, particularly getting rid of clutter and getting restful sleep. I see several of you nodding: “Sign me up now.”

Feng shui aside, we know it’s good to get rid of clutter. Having stuff heaped all over can be dangerous. I have enough trouble navigating from point A to point B without having to pick my way around objects with sharp protrusions. Let’s face it, when we trip over something, it’s rarely a soft pile of laundry. Feng shui adds the negative that clutter prevents the flow of positive energy.

Unfortunately, the feng shui “how-to” sites don’t offer much practical advice on how to get rid of clutter. Fortunately, the staging process for listing our house last summer provided some guidelines. There are two aspects to de-cluttering. The first is deciding which things are keepers and which are not. The second is figuring out what to do with the keepers. (We know we should donate or toss the rejects.)

One feng shui site recommends that you ask yourself if you really love or need the item. If yes, it’s a keeper. You should also assess if it’s a match with your current life vision or if it harks from times you remember fondly. Those are each signs of keepers, too. Unfortunately, this quasi-helpful site then advises you simply to “find a proper place to store” the keepers. Not to worry. I can help with that.

Buy some large, plastic storage bins with snap-on covers. Get at least a dozen, as you’ll be labeling them with the alphabet and should be able to double up on many of the letters. Take all your keeper items and assign them a label, and put each one in the bin with that letter. Stack the boxes in your basement, attic, garage or spare room. You have now disposed of all that nasty clutter and your Chi should be flowing beautifully.

Feng shui is also concerned with how the five elements—wood, fire, earth, metal and water—influence our lives. The element associated with restfulness is earth. Earth shapes are either square or low rectangles.  In our search for more restful sleep, feng shui would have us replace a bed with a high headboard with a futon. If my husband and I did that, we’d take a half hour just to climb out of bed each morning. Besides, in winter, we drape an old comforter over that high headboard to reduce drafts.

Since the water element can help rejuvenate and renew Chi, that could be an option for restful bedroom décor. Don’t install a fountain in the corner, though. A background sound of running water is not a good idea for retirees. Still water is supposed to be rejuvenating, but a waterbed could be worse than a futon for aging knees. Hanging a crystal in the window is a safer way to recharge retirement Chi.

Some other feng shui bedroom advice seems useful. Place your bed where it has a clear view of the door to promote a sense of security for restful sleep. If you have a TV or exercise equipment in the bedroom, hide it by draping something over it at night to “lower the sense of activity.” I doubt I’ll be tempted to start riding at 3 am, but my husband usually drapes his clothes on the Health Rider anyway.

Finally, let’s talk about a good balance of yin (feminine) and yang (masculine) energy. Supposedly, seniors are prone to being overly yin, reflected in darker homes. You can yang it up by using lighter curtains (draperies slow down Chi) and opening up space. Replace yin furniture—cushiony and overstuffed—with yang—sleek and angular. (Sounds like a metaphor for me and my husband…) I’d rather trip over yin than yang, but maybe you’re not as clumsy as I am.

Yin colors are black, white and pastels, while yang are bright, (making my stager totally yin). To balance the two, you can alternate rooms—one yin-like, one yang-y. If that feels schizophrenic, you can have a predominantly yin color scheme, with yang accents (or vice versa). I’d go with the yang accents so I could hide them from my stager if he came to check up on me.

I realize this is a lot to digest in one sitting, but I’m confident you’re up to it. Especially if you fortify yourself with a nice glass of wine before you tackle this project. Just be sure you don’t spill it on your cushy, white, yin-perfect couch.