Planning for the Beach After Years of Not Going

 

 

Summer is here and many folks are making plans for their visits to the beach. That usually means the seashore. I grew up in a lake community and we lived there all year round. I never developed an attraction for the ocean. All that sticky salt and sand in places I won’t mention here. It’s been years since I even thought about going to a beach. The older that I got, the less my body seemed to want to be seen in a bathing suit.

 

Something changed this year. For reasons that I won’t take space explaining, I lost at least twenty pounds this Spring. Rest easy; it wasn’t because of a major health issue, though I’ve had several of those. I like the way I look and feel, so I’m continuing with my new lifestyle. I have an entire wardrobe of smaller sizes that had been waiting for me to come to my senses. There was even an old bathing suit in the bottom of one box.

 

I assume that styles haven’t changed much in the past however many decades. The condo community where we live has a pool. Maybe it’s time for me to take the plunge–literally. As if the swimming gods were listening, one of my daily electronic newsletters had this hard-to-believe article in it. Panera is launching a line of swimsuits. Yes, Panera. And yes, swimsuits. They’re brightly colored, with prints inspired by popular items on their “pick two” menu. As with the menu, you’re encouraged to mix and match.

 

The “beloved Panera menu items” mentioned in the media announcement for the swimwear are the classic Grilled Cheese, Broccoli Cheddar and Tomato Soups and their Chipotle Chicken Avocado Sandwich. Just one salad was listed: the Strawberry Poppyseed. That probably means my swimwear will be adorned with broccoli, avocados and strawberries. That takes care of the motifs, but it leaves the actual bathing suit shapes.

 

Lord help me. I have trouble picking two off the Panera menu. Now I’ll have to pick two items of swimwear. (Their one-piece will never work for me.) For lunch, I usually wind up with my default chicken Caesar salad. I have no idea what the bathing suit equivalent of that would be, and that will just be the start of what I’ll need for a trip to a beach or pool. I’ll need pool-appropriate footwear and a beach cover up. And a very large towel and a tote to stuff everything into.

 

I can’t forget sun block; I’ll have to research what SPF number is required for my age group. And I’ll want a nice bodice ripper paperback to read, the kind you find in airport gift shops, ones with a bare chested hunk on the cover, but not Fabio. And not Fifty Shades of Gray. I’ve read all of those; they were retirement gifts from a female friend. The book choice could be a project in and of itself.

 

Then there’s the matter of the shave. The big shave. Stopping at the knees will not do for a body in a bathing suit. Not to mention clearing the weeds out from under my armpits. Upper legs and pits are not areas I typically worry about at my age. Come to think of it, there really aren’t any body areas that I pay much attention to these days.

 

I’m beginning to realize why I haven’t made any trips to a beach or pool in decades. It will be a miracle if I make it there this summer. I might as well do the appropriate planning, just in case, starting with a new bathing suit. I’m thinking of mixing and matching the Panera shorts with their tank top. A T-shirt would cover my bat wings better, but I didn’t see one of those in the Panera collection. It looks like the shorts and tank are offered with broccoli and strawberries motifs. Those should do.

 

I’ll also need to pick up sun block. Whatever I have around the house is undoubtedly past its sell-by date and it might not even be strong enough. Most of the other items on my list can be found at the bottom of a closet somewhere. That still leaves picking out a trashy paperback to take with me. I wonder if Amazon has a category for those. I’m open to suggestions, by the way.

 

I had no idea that planning for the beach after years of not going would be so stressful. It looks like I’m going to need a nice glass of wine. Or two.

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

Earworms from the Past

 A few days ago I was struggling to brush my teeth. My dominant hand is still partially paralyzed. The toothpaste kept rolling off the brush. When I was in marketing at Colgate Palmolive, one of my assignments was in oral care. I learned that the brushing action and flossing are actually more important than the product. Put another way, I remembered that a “little dab will do you.”

 

Suddenly, I became captive of an earworm from the past, with the jingle: “Brylcreem, a little dab ‘ll do ya!” burrowing into my ear. “Brylcreem, you look so debonair! Brylcreem, the girls will all pursue ya. They love to get their fingers in your hair.” That wasn’t a Colgate brand, but as it happens, another of my product assignments included Wildroot, which had its own jingle. “Get Wildroot Cream oil, Charlie! It keeps your hair in trim.” Now I had two competing earworms. And they were fighting for ear time with a jingle that’s all over TV that I can’t un-hear: “1-877-Kars-4-Kids.”

 

If that weren’t bad enough, when I cut the banana onto my cereal, I saw that it had a Chiquita sticker on it. I didn’t even try to suppress that classic ditty. What was worse, I started to remember additional popular jingles from the past, starting with other Colgate products. “Use Ajax, the foaming cleanser. B-b-boom. Floats the dirt right down the drain.” Then I moved on to non-Colgate ones. “Mr. Clean gets rid of dirt and grime and grease in just a minute. Mr. Clean will clean your whole house and everything that’s in it.” I wish.

 

Fortunately, not every brand I worked on in my ten years in marketing there had a jingle. But that didn’t stop my tumble down the rabbit hole of earworm memories. Colgate marketed Hebrew National hot dogs, but “I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener” is what got stuck in my ear. And I don’t even like hot dogs. After eating one, I’d probably need Alka-Seltzer: “Plop plop fizz fizz. Oh, what a relief it is.” (Except when it’s become an earworm.)

 

Not all of these jingles are tied to products. Some come to us from TV shows, especially ones from our youth. “It’s Howdy Doody time; it’s Howdy Doody time… It’s time to start the show; so kids, let’s go!” Or how about the still popular: “M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E! Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse. Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree!” Or “Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails to you, keep smiling until then.” I had such a crush on Roy Rogers! Also on Robin Hood. But he didn’t have a theme song.

 

How about other entertainment. “Take me out to the ball game. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks. I don’t care if I never get back.” Or the iconic “I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid.” Then there are all those classic folk songs that get stuck on repeat whenever you hear them. “If I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning.” “Where have all the flowers gone?”

 

Lots of pop songs from the past can become earworms. Who can forget “One, two, three o’clock, four o’clock rock… Gonna rock around the clock tonight.” Or drift off to “Wake up, little Susie, wake up.” Meanwhile, we were “Wasting away in Margaritaville. Looking for my lost shaker of salt.” Notice that the pop songs that become earworms are seldom ballads. We aren’t meant to fall asleep while we’re being tormented.

 

More likely than not, your vintage earworms vary with the seasons. In the summer, songs by the Beach Boys blanket your brain; “Under the boardwalk” and “Surfin’ U.S.A.” Around the holidays, songs about Christmas, Santa Claus, and “Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer” have your ears ringing. Even in Spring, you’ll have “…Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail.”

 

By now you are probably being tormented by earworms of your own. I’d apologize for doing this to you, but misery loves company. The only advice I can offer you is to pass them on to someone else. Everyone must have a jingle lurking in their past, waiting to be set free. If not, give them one of your own. Or just remind them that a little dab will do them.

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

Medical Whack-A-Mole

Recently I learned that one of my band mates had died, apparently quite suddenly. None of us knew he was seriously ill. It occurred to me that with all the health issues I’ve been dealing with over the past few years, my demise would hardly come as a surprise. More likely friends would wonder: “Which ailment was it that finally got her?”

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’ve been playing Medical Whack-A-Mole. When I finally get one illness under control, another one pops up to take its place. Many times, it was the treatment for the first that caused the next one. Let’s start with my lung cancer, which was diagnosed about two and a half years ago. I entered a clinical trial through Yale, in which I received regular infusions of three drugs: two chemo therapy and an immunotherapy, plus study pills that might have been a placebo.

 

The program was to last two years, but one year into it, I developed pneumonitis, a severe inflammation of the lung. My oncologist and my pulmonologist agreed that the likely cause was one of the drugs I was getting. There was no simple way to know which one. Pulling any of them would take me out of the study in any case, so we stopped my cancer therapy completely.

 

Mercifully, it appeared that the year of treatment had halted the cancer before the pneumonitis popped up like a mole. We whacked that sucker back down with a heavy course of Prednisone. For those of you not familiar with it, Prednisone is a steroid. I was on it for weeks, but it cleared up most of the lung inflammation. It’s a go-to treatment for many ailments.  I’ve concluded that it’s one of three things every household needs on hand, along with duct tape and WD-40.

 

But true to my Whack-A-Mole analogy, the Prednisone gave me a major face rash and I blew up like the Pillsbury Doughboy. I also developed edema in my feet and lower legs. An ultrasound made sure the fluid retention wasn’t due to vein leakage and that I had no blood clots. The edema was just another mole that popped up when we used the steroids to whack something else.

 

An online search led me to taking high supplements of magnesium to reduce water retention. Sadly that whack led to a pop up mole of severe diarrhea. Needless to say, I decided to live with the fluid build up. Fortunately, shortly after the course of steroids was completed, that problem disappeared. Unfortunately, it did not mean I was headed for clear sailing with my health.

 

Even with the pneumonitis under control, I was increasingly short of breath. Tests performed by my pulmonologist turned up two new “moles” to whack. Turns out I have a paralyzed right diaphragm muscle, usually caused by an injury. In my case, there’s no clue why and it might never be normal again. A few weeks of physical therapy could help. More on that later.

 

The other “mole” was pleural effusion, a build up of fluid around the lung. That was drained via a thoracentesis procedure. My breathing improved immediately. Nevertheless, my pulmonologist prescribed a steroidal inhaler to keep my airways clear. The mole from that turned out to be a side effect of some hoarseness, but I can live with that. Back to the pulmonary rehab, which I had two afternoons a week.

 

The rehab included education and light stretching, leg and arm exercises, followed by time on a treadmill. At each session, the treadmill speed and time were increased, but never to anything too stressful. The morning after what would be my last session, I woke up with horrific neck and back pain. Plus I also had a partly paralyzed right hand. I assumed I had slept crooked and pinched a nerve, or something like that.

 

When the pain persisted for days, I made several appointments with specialists. The last was with a neurologist, who has ordered several tests. He also prescribed Gabapentin to address the nerve pain. It has serious mole-like side effects. You can get tired and dizzy, so I take it only late at night.

 

I feel like I’m in a fairy tale. If I stopped dying my hair, I’d be Snow White, but I’m already most of the Seven Dwarfs. Allergy season has me Sneezy. Though I’m certainly never Bashful, much of today’s news leaves me feeling Dopey. I ask so many questions of my physicians that I might as well be a Doc. Gabapentin leaves me Snoozy and Dizzy. Despite spending most of my time playing Medical Whack-A-Mole, I’m rarely Grumpy and I’m usually Happy. I won’t ask for more than that.

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

Retro Is In Eye of Beholder

Lately we’ve seen a lot of mentions of retro in the media. Generally it’s in reference to clothing styles, but other categories have also appeared. Here’s some framework for the term “retro.” It typically refers to items and styles that are between 20 and 40 years old or so. Using today as a benchmark, that means from 1983 to 2003.

 

You might be wondering what the difference is between “retro” and “vintage”.  As a rule, vintage items are authentic of the period in question. Retro items are derivative; they’re new items that imitate the vintage period. I’m going to keep this simple and just use retro, which in my opinion is in the eye of the beholder anyway. Despite what fashion magazines are saying, in my eyes styles from 1990 aren’t retro.

 

From my vantage point, the nineties were forward looking. One magazine described four “retro” pants styles, all “non-skinny.” They cited wide leg, flared, cargo, and straight leg denim and leather. You need to go back to the seventies to find my retro pants: bell bottoms!

 

If you really want retro, look at the first wave of tie-dyes (especially if you went to San Francisco or Woodstock). Tie-dye is a good example of a trend that is retro for younger folks when you look at styles from the nineties, but truly retro for me, from when the Beatles inspired authentic Indian tie-dye. My husband imported tie-dyed styles from India in the seventies for his company India Imports of Rhode Island.

 

A lot of the 70s fashion revolved around hippies. You had peasant blouses, ponchos, hippie sandals and maxi dresses. I had a Gunne Sax maxi (by Jessica McClintock) that I bought in San Francisco, and Olaf Daughters of Sweden clogs that I bought in the West Village in New York City. Gen Xer 90s retro includes shin-length slip dresses. Today’s “retro” clogs wouldn’t have cut the mustard in the seventies. Doc Martens are said to making a comeback. I bought mine in the forward-looking nineties; now they’re being called retro. Mine were red and I wore them to death.

 

I just saw a report that flip up eyeglasses from the seventies are coming back. I confess, I don’t even remember those from the first time around. The glasses I picture from the seventies are John Lennon’s little round wire frames. They never went away, so I guess I shouldn’t really call them retro.

 

Moving away from clothes, there are so many other iconic retro items. There’s the classic Volkswagon bus. My brother used his as a camper and I made him fancy curtains for it. The website rugs.com informs us: “Shag rugs have made a comeback in a huge way. What was once thought of as a casualty of the 70s are now popular again…” It’s still a risky floor covering for anyone with pets who are prone to throwing up. My brother’s camper didn’t have rugs, but it probably saw plenty of throw up.

 

Another 70s staple that can be found on EBay is the blue cornflower pattern of Corning Ware. We have a stash of them in our cabinet. It used to be a go-to gift for bridal showers before the big stores had registries. Fondue pots were another popular shower gift back then. Raise your hand if you received at least three of those and re-gifted one of them. Lava lamps were also all the rage in the 70s.

 

Moving away from the kitchen and decor, the seventies also saw the introduction of the VHS recorder. Today’s generation is into streaming; they probably think that DVD’s are retro. But VHS is the true retro. Blockbuster has announced plans to “Rewind” and open some new stores. You read it correctly: Blockbuster. There are even vintage Blockbuster items for sale on EBay. When it comes to fun and games from the seventies, let’s not forget Rubik’s Cube, the Nerf ball and the Pet Rock.

 

My retro options mentioned here might seem to have run the gamut, but I’ve barely scratched the surface. This seems like a good place to stop and let you mull over what you would add to this list. Keep in mind that retro is in the eye of the beholder. Your retro may be from a different decade than mine. If you’re not sure, just look at some old photos and see what style of legs are on the pants you’re wearing.

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

In Praise of Soups–Stone, Bone and More

 

One of my husband’s nieces changed her eating habits to have soup for dinner every night. She lost quite a bit of weight doing that. Jagdish and I enjoy soup. Sometimes he’ll make it using one of those broths that come in boxes. More often, we’ll have a can of something from Progresso. We try to get ones with lower sodium. For whatever reason, I’ve been eating less lately. I sleep more hours, so I often have just two meals a day. One might be soup. I’ve lost 15 pounds in about 5 weeks. I don’t know if it’s just lower caloric intake, or if it’s that soup thing working. I’ve decided to praise the soup.

 

The soups my husband makes are always broth-like. He uses those boxes I just mentioned as his base. He adds various fresh vegetables, usually some ginger, and a few spices. Lately he’s been requesting that I get the boxes that say “Bone Broth”. The subtext says chicken or beef; we prefer the chicken, especially because that’s usually available in low sodium.

 

I have no idea what prompted him to become a fan of bone broth, but it seems to be extremely popular now. Some people even drink it straight. I’ve made turkey soup from the leftover Thanksgiving carcass. But somehow seeing “bone” on a label creeps me out. The Healthline website says: “Bone broth dates back to prehistoric times, when hunter-gatherers turned otherwise inedible animal parts like bones, hooves, and knuckles into a broth they could drink.”

 

“Otherwise inedible parts” sends a shiver up my spine. The site says bone broth “may” benefit the digestive system and help fight inflammation; no promises, of course. Be that as it may, my husband is now a devotée of the bone broth trend. By the time he finishes making his soup, it looks like any other broth and smells appealing, too.

 

The Progresso soups are great go-to options when neither of us wants to make lunch or dinner. This happens more often lately. There are several flavors of Progresso that we enjoy, like their Savory Chicken & Wild Rice and their Southwest Style Black Bean & Vegetable. Those are both reduced sodium varieties. Their Light group doesn’t float our boats as much, but the calories range from just 130 (Savory Vegetable Barley) to 200 per can. The chain stores often have good sales on Progresso. If I pay attention, I can stock up at a reasonable price hoping to lose more weight on this “soup diet.”

 

This brings me to my favorite part of this essay. You may have heard of egg drop soup or bird’s nest soup. But have you ever heard of stone soup? I don’t know if it comes to mind because “stone” rhymes with “bone” or if it’s just because it’s a fun story. You may be familiar with the tale of the stone soup. For those who are not, I hope you enjoy it.

 

A beggar came to the kitchen door of a farmhouse, carrying a rock. He asks the woman inside if he can borrow a large pan in which to make some stone soup. Curious, she hands him a pan, shows him where the water pump is, and offers to let him cook it on her kitchen stove. He puts the stone in the pot, fills it with water, and begins heating it. He tests it in a few minutes and declares: “It really needs just a pinch or two of salt and it will be fine.” The woman hands him her salt bowl. He tests it again in a few more minutes. “If only I had one or two slices of onion, my stone soup would be even better.” “I have plenty of onions,” the woman says. “You’re welcome to have one.”

 

After considerable stirring and cooking, the beggar muses: “What would really make this stone soup wonderful would be a stick of celery.” By now, the woman is complying with his wishes without even thinking about it. Finally, he comments that the only thing his stone soup needs to make it perfect is a carrot. Of course, a carrot appears in the woman’s hand. More stirring and cooking. More sampling. Eventually, the beggar pronounces the soup ready to eat.

 

The woman produces two bowls and a ladle with which to serve the soup. They sit together at her kitchen table to eat the soup. The woman remarks: “I can’t believe how good this soup is! And to think you made it with just a stone!”

 

To which I say: “I can’t believe what delicious soup my husband makes out of bone broth!”

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

Social Omnivores and More

 

Recently I learned a new term: Social Ominivore. It refers to someone who eats as a vegetarian when at home, but will eat anything when at a restaurant or as a guest at someone’s home. The thinking is that they really prefer to not eat meat or fish, but they don’t want to make things difficult for others in their social circle. If only everyone with dietary preferences would think that way.

 

Given the proliferation of allergies and the popularity of gluten free and other diets, this seems like an extremely considerate, or social thing to do. Of course, some dietary restrictions are medically necessary. But veganism frequently is not and vegan products have become ubiquitous. One of the items that caught my eye was a California-made vegan mattress being sold at the Fifth Avenue “experience center” of Avocado Green Mattress. I can’t even…

 

But I want to return to the social side of this realization. It got me thinking about other things that I do in a social environment that I don’t do when at home. The comforts of home allow me to ignore so many aspects of my appearance that I pay attention to when we go out. Or at least when I expect to run into friends or neighbors when we go out.

Take for instance shoes. I used to be a shoe-aholic. When I worked in Manhattan, I had so many pairs of shoes, my coworkers called me Imelda Decker. It was a head nod to Imelda Marcus. (Look her up.) Now I spend most of my time at home in socks. I put shoes on when I go out. Unless I’m going someplace fancy or if I expect to run into someone who might notice my feet, I wear basic, serviceable, easy on-and-off footwear with my socks. In a social setting, I’ll trade my socks for some type of sheer hose and I’ll consider a shoe that has at least a bit of a heel. I guess I’m no longer a shoe adopter. I’m a Social Shoe Adapter.

Since I’m on the topic of what I wear when we go out vs. at-home comfort, let’s talk lingerie. Right up there with my socks, I favor cotton tank undershirts instead of bras. I don’t get a draft across my midsection with tanks. Likewise, cotton underpants that would never be confused with anything sexy are what fill my dresser drawer. But I’ll admit to being a Social Lingerie Gal. My mother always made me wear my best underpants when I left the house. “What if you get hit by a truck and they have to take you to the hospital?” “What if?” indeed. Never happened in the five decades she and I shared on this planet. But it ingrained in my head the notion that I should consider wearing some nicer lingerie if I planned to be going very far from home or would be out for any length of time. Not sexy, but at least stylish. OK. Maybe not even stylish. But without holes and with elastic that isn’t stretched out.

Something else that I do rarely now that I’m retired is wear makeup. I had a friend who wouldn’t even leave her bedroom until she put on her face. I, on the other hand, still have makeup left from weddings I attended that ended in divorce decades ago. These days, when I say I’m going to put on makeup, it means some eyebrow pencil, mascara and a touch of blush on my cheeks. And you’ve probably guessed by now, that I do that so seldom that it definitely makes me a Social Face Painter.

In a totally different vein, my last item is one that brings me back closer to the socially considerate nature of the Social Omnivore where this essay started. When I’m out of the house, I try to watch my language more carefully. When I traveled on business years ago, I spent a lot of time in the field with the sales force. Let’s just say that none of those guys would ever have called me a goody two-shoes. These days I try to leave my four-letter-word lexicon at home. Instead of a potty mouth, I guess you could call me a Social Sweet Lips.

I’m sure there are other social activities that I follow when we’re out, but these are the ones that come to mind right now. If you give it some thought, I’ll bet you’ll come up with a list of socially motivated behaviors of your own.

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

Banned Words and Phrases for 2023

My 2023 list of banned words and phrases includes some from my readers and from other writers. As in previous years, some of my choices also appear on Lake Superior State University’s list. Here are my ten entries for 2023.

 

The first phrase to be tossed aside is one that I can’t believe I haven’t banned before this year. I searched my spreadsheet history to be sure. That phrase is “nothing burger.” It caught on as a favorite of Donald Trump, Jr. during the 2016 campaign season, but I’ve been hearing it a lot now. I don’t appreciate it no matter who is using it, including you, dear reader. I’m sure you’ll come up with a suitable substitute.

 

Some expressions on this year’s list have outlived their useful lifespans. Here are two obvious candidates: “The proof is in the pudding” and “At the end of the day.” The speakers are never talking about puddings and “the day” being referred to can happen at any hour, including in the morning. It’s more likely the end of a discussion, not a specific time frame. The “pudding” expression sounds like something President Biden would say. I hope he finds an equally folksie replacement.

 

I’m also exhausted hearing the expression “It is what it is.” I confess. I use it myself when I’m worn out. Simply put, this expression is a tautology. If it were up to me, I’d ban all over-used tautologies.

 

I don’t normally ban the names of actual celebrities. I’d planned to break with precedent this year and ban Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. I was exhausted hearing updates on their legal battles. As it happens, they settled just before the end of 2022, but I have an even better replacement to ban. Please media folk, stop covering Kanye (or Ye) in 2023. Trust me, there’s nothing about his life that we can’t live without hearing.

 

The next banned word earned a slot on this year’s list because of its overuse. A reader can’t be sure what facts are behind a “trauma,” so it will no longer be available. As the New York Times pointed out back in February, 2022, if everything is considered to be “trauma”, is anything really? I don’t think so.

 

A reader submitted “And Just Like That” for this year’s list. I confess I’m not familiar with that phrase, but I trust her judgment. I Googled it and discovered it’s the title of a show that’s been streaming on HBO for about a year as a sequel to Sex and the City. The best advice I can offer about not using this phrase is to watch a few episodes and decide for yourself.

 

Now we have two metaphors from a list gathered by columnist Frank Bruni that share a transportation theme of sorts. They’re both entries on this year’s list that could be considered politically inspired. The first is “Choosing (or Staying in) Ones Lane.” Most of us have been tempted at some point to weigh in with our own opinions on someone else’s discussion. If our intrusion is not welcome, we’ll likely be told to stay in our own lane. We’ll usually be well-served to take that advice.

 

The other entry of the transportation ilk is “Under the bus,” which is where someone will occasionally get thrown if they’re a convenient fall guy. They can also find themselves under the bus if they wander too far out of their own lane. Best to keep track of where you are in these types of conversations. Some folks are highly sensitive about those who cross lanes.

 

The last entry on this year’s list could also be considered politically inspired and that’s “Gaslighting.” I’m surprised I haven’t banned this sooner. It’s a favorite psychological tool of controlling people who enjoy manipulating those around them. The speaker wants someone to believe they’ve engaged in some type of unwelcome behavior. It isn’t always used for political reasons, but it’s been a favorite ploy of Donald Trump. It ends this year’s list not just as a word to be jettisoned, but more importantly as a behavior to be banned. I know. Good luck with that.

 

I considered banning “Quiet Quitting,” until I realized that it, too, was more the behavior that I wanted to ban, not so much the phrase. I decided having one hopeless entry on the list was more than enough.

 

That completes this year’s list of words and phrases that I’d like to stop hearing. If 2023 is anything like previous years, this will be a pipe dream. Maybe that’s a phrase I’ll ban next year.

 

Copyright 2023 Business Theatre Unlimited

I’m Grateful for Being Grateful

 

This is the time of year when we read a lot about gratitude. Friends often hear me talk about the importance of having “an attitude of gratitude.” Not everyone shares my opinion. A recent Washington Post article cited research that suggested the benefits of showing gratitude to others. It wondered why we don’t give thanks more often. Another article offered 20 ways to “spark gratitude.”

 

I’m not a religious person, but I consider myself to be spiritual. I practice daily meditations, what most of you would probably call prayers. Some are prayers of gratitude for things in my life and in the lives of family and friends. Some are prayers of supplication, usually health related, for family and friends but rarely, if ever, for myself. These meditations keep me centered and focused. Plus, they help keep my blood pressure down, reason enough to practice them daily.

 

I can pinpoint exactly when I began doing this. My niece delivered her daughter at 23 weeks 3 days into her pregnancy. This micropreemie weighed just one pound seven ounces and was not expected to survive. Today she is a thriving eighteen year old, working on her college applications. When she was born, I began praying for her; I still do. Her survival is one of the first things on my daily list of what I’m grateful for.

 

Another is that I’m a 32 year breast cancer survivor. The past two years have been spent battling lung cancer. While I’m thankful for all of my good test results, I don’t ask for them. I was originally told I was stage 4, with a 2 to 5 year usual survival expectation. That was 2 years ago, but my tumor hasn’t grown during that time. I’m not receiving any more treatments and am now in what is considered a maintenance phase. I get regular CT scans to make sure there’s nothing new going on in my lungs.

 

Early into my treatment, I remember thinking about my grandniece, the micropreemie, who faced many health challenges early on in her life. When she was born, if I had been told that, in exchange for her survival, I had to agree to get terminal lung cancer in 20 years, I would have taken the deal. After all, at age 59, living until at least age 79 seemed reasonable if it meant this tiny treasure would live. Of course, looking back is easy when you know you’re already 75 and you’ll be beating the odds if you pass 80.

 

Her survival and continued development set me on the path to my daily meditations. The list of those for whom I request health interventions keeps growing. Sadly, some people fall off that list because they’ve lost their battle, usually with some type of cancer. They’re quickly replaced with others who have an equally challenging health issue. When I learn that someone’s cancer is now in remission, I’m filled with gratitude on their behalf. It lifts my spirits to celebrate their success.

 

When I share my philosophy about having an attitude of gratitude, I’m occasionally met with a pessimistic: “I have nothing to be grateful for.” I counter that everyone has something worth giving thanks for. You just have to think about what happens in your daily life. If there is one person with whom you would not want to trade places, you should have no complaints. Be thankful you’re not in their shoes. Everyone knows at least someone who is dealing with major problems that they would not want to face. If it’s not health, it might be financial or relationship issues.

 

I feel sorry for anyone who cannot get past feeling that they have nothing to be grateful for. Meditating on all the good things in my life, all the blessings I and my family and my friends have, lifts me up every day as I mentally go through that list. How very sad for those who are missing out on this opportunity.

 

Being grateful for the good things in other folks’ lives can benefit you, too. But being grateful for the good things in your own life… Well, that’s a blessing that can’t easily be quantified but most certainly should not be ignored or forgotten. In this season of giving thanks, and on every day, I’m so grateful for being grateful!

 

Copyright 2022 Business Theatre Unlimited

In Praise of Hallmark Movies

Hallmark romantic comedies (rom coms) are becoming more and more popular. Women of all ages and social strata are appreciative watchers. Men have also discovered them. As the population ages, folks are settling in as couch potatoes. I began watching not too long after I retired.

 

An article in the NY Times provided a more erudite explanation. “One of the genre’s great pleasures” is books (and movies) with “similar archetypes, similar settings, similar tropes, similar tones… because they offer a piping-hot version of a recipe that readers are perpetually hungry for.” Hallmark has a handful of tried and true templates that their rom coms tend to follow. Here are some reasons why I enjoy them.

 

First off, to quote the Times, “Romance is marked by the certainty of the happy ending.”

And we’re not referring to the sexual definition of that expression. Hallmark rom coms don’t have even the subtlest hint that anyone does the horizontal mambo. You can choose to imagine that happens. Hallmark won’t dissuade you, but they won’t encourage your fantasy. Given today’s societal stresses—political, health, financial or other—I and many fans appreciate knowing there will be a happy ending.

 

The lead is almost always female, and usually a strong woman at that, a big draw for me. I’m not sure how the men feel about this, but the women don’t emasculate their male co-stars so I guess that makes their strength acceptable.

 

Many times, a woman from a big city finds herself in a quaint rural town. Maybe she grew up there; maybe she found herself stranded there after a snowstorm or a car accident that left her with amnesia. By the end of the story, she always realizes that the small town is now home to her. No more big city stress. I grew up in a town of about 50 people but worked in Manhattan for 20 years, so I appreciate the conversion.

 

Another common template thread is that there’s some misunderstanding between the female and male leads that derails their relationship early on. One of them hears half of some conversation but doesn’t stick around to hear how it ends, jumping to a conclusion that the other is totally wrong for them. Eventually this gets straightened out, but not usually until the last 15 minutes of the two-hour movie.

 

Many of the stories have an artistic aspect, which also appeals to me. Sometimes it’s found in the female lead, sometimes in the male she encounters. Photography is a popular theme, and writing. A successful but reclusive writer falls in love with the aspiring author who has tracked him down to interview him in “Just My Type.” There have also been bakers, wine makers and chocolatiers. A semi-estranged daughter returns home to help her family, especially an injured father, run (or save) the family business. One time it was a pumpkin farm.

 

There are frequently widowers who are great fathers raising children on their own, or bachelor uncles who have custody of their late sibling’s children (and are clueless what to do with them). The lead woman comes into their lives and “rescues” them. The fathers might be dentists or veterinarians. The women are more often business professionals and less often in any medical field.

 

One thing Hallmark does well in its rom coms and is doing even more of is offering inclusionary casts. The Anglo lead often has a Black best friend. Secondary characters that are gay (male or female couples) are frequently worked into the story. There’s not a big fuss made over them. They’re just another part of the cast.

 

A further template variation has the lead and her male partner being set up on-line by well-meaning family members or friends. “Chance At Romance,” has the tween-age son of a widower pretending to be his successful but creatively blocked photographer dad. The son screens the women who reply to his ad and he invites one to visit. She of course thinks it’s the dad who invited her. Eventually, she and the son create the Pot Pie Of The Month Club. This brings the boy out of the funk he’s been in since his mother died and his father gets his mojo back taking pictures of the pies and their baker.

 

In another pairing via on-line family meddling, the main characters have evolving chemistry in “Straight From the Heart”. She’s an unsuccessful photographer who shoots garbage (literally) at the beginning of the film. By the end, she’s creating iconic photos of the American cowboy she’s met via the meddling and those earn her a solo show. I’ll watch this one until the cows come home. Or more precisely here, wild horses.

 

Copyright 2022 Business Theatre Unlimited

Socially Invasive Species

Lately there’s been news about invasive species, especially in the waters around Florida. The two species I’ve read about most are the Burmese Python and the Lionfish. The Burmese Python has become such a problem in the Everglades that the South Florida Water Management District issued a hunting challenge with a $10,000 grand prize. Its purpose is to “incentivize a limited number of public-spirited individuals to humanely euthanize these destructive snakes.”

 

I’m not sure how one would do this humanely, but you can imagine what an incentive $10,000 would be. The hunters get paid $10 per hour and $50 for each python they catch that measures up to 4 feet, plus an extra $25 for each additional foot above 4. On top of that, they get $200 for each nest they deactivate. That’s quite a haul, and a lot of python skins for cowboy boots and handbags.

 

As for the Lionfish, they swarm in the Panhandle. That’s led to a tournament with cash prizes, too. Divers spear these predatory fish and sell them to local restaurants. Supposedly, those suckers can lay 27,000 eggs every two and a half days and can eliminate more than 80% of native species within five weeks. This not only plays havoc with the ecosystem, it’s a threat to the survival of coral reefs as well. 

 

As with invasive species like the Burmese Python and the Lionfish, Socially Invasive Species tend to settle in Florida, especially in retirement communities. I’ve collected some information about quite a few of these to share with you.

 

Let’s start with the Golf Cart Broncos. It’s no surprise that golf is a hugely popular activity, especially in retirement communities. Combine this with the cocktail hours that come after (and sometimes before) a golf outing, and it can be deadly. Inebriated duffers race around the community in their carts with little or no regard for the safety of the residents.

 

Close behind the Broncos are the Pickle Ball Fanatics. This sport has exploded in the past few years, especially in retirement communities. It’s not as physically stressful for the players as tennis is. But the noise of the ball clacking off the paddles is invasive to the auditory calm that nearby neighbors had planned to enjoy when they moved in.

 

Not as dangerous as these first two species but equally invasive are the Pool Hogs. Most retirement communities have a pool for their residents. It’s often a modest sized one, not meant to accommodate everyone who lives there, at least not at the same time. The invasive Pool Hogs use more than their fair share of time, thus keeping others from enjoying the facility. 

 

Happy Hour Earworms invade the peace and quiet even if they haven’t been golfing. It’s usually their loud and boisterous voices that interrupt the tranquility. They sometimes break into song, favoring oldies (very) but goodies (in the ear of the beholder). The further into Happy Hour it gets, the more invasive the antics of the Earworms become. What’s worse, as with other Earworms, it’s next to impossible to banish the songs from your head even when Happy Hour is over. 

 

The Peripatetic Travel Bug is psychologically invasive more so than physically. This species invades your comfort zone with detailed accounts of their recent trips abroad. Having retired with a comfortable income, they travel far, wide and frequently. There’s no escaping them unless you simply retire to your own nest and lock the door. 

 

The Meme Maniacs are a modern species, especially invasive on Facebook and other social media sites. Some of their posts are entertaining. The problem with the Maniacs, however, is a lack of discrimination about which memes are worthy of posting. The result is that one has to scroll through a lot of dross just to see a few cute cat ones.

 

Acronym Aficionados are a closely related invasive species to the Meme Maniacs, also showing up most often on social media. Some of these are useful, taking less time to type than it would to spell out the words. The main problem is that many seniors aren’t up to date on these shortcuts. So they clutter up the thread with questions like: “What does IMO mean? How is that different from IMHO? How about LOL and ROFL? What is FOMO?” If you don’t understand this last one, you’re definitely Missing Out.

 

This is by no means a complete list of Socially Invasive Species, but it captures the most common and most egregious ones. BOLO for them in your neighborhood.

 

Copyright 2022 Business Theatre Unlimited

 

2022 Monopoly Game

Hearing all the mentions of SCOTUS and Roe v. Wade in the news had me thinking of water-related activities: row vs. wade.  This in turn made me picture a side of a new Monopoly board game: SCOTUS Row, with properties Wade, Breast Stroke and Butterfly. From there, it was full speed ahead to a 2022 revamp of that classic game. I’m limiting the number of players to six. The new tokens to choose from are: Tesla Model S, iPhone, COVID Spiked Ball, Spiced Pumpkin, Kale Leaf, and Avocado Toast.

 

Similar to SCOTUS Row, which launched this new initiative, there will be Congressional Row, with Senate and House properties, and Executive Row, with stops on POTUS, VPOTUS, and FLOTUS. One of the other sides will be home to Inflation Alley. In the inaugural edition, this will be represented by Energy, Groceries and Used Cars. Another side will house the Food Court Mall, with stops for shops on Organic Boulevard, Vegan Way and Gluten Free Avenue.

 

Peppered throughout these rows and alleys, as per the classic board, will be various taxes and utility companies. There won’t be a Luxury Tax, or even an Income Tax, but you should hope to avoid expensive stops on Health Care Tax and Real Estate Tax. If you land on any of the energy companies—Gasoline, Electric or Oil—it will cost you dearly.

 

Unlike the original game, there will not be a “Go Directly To Jail” square. Don’t get too complacent though. Instead, there will be a “Go to Debtor’s Prison.” You’ll have to roll doubles to get out of there. There will still be a “Free Parking” square, which will be free only on Sundays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and holidays. All other times it will cost $10. The list of holidays will be updated annually. The “Just Visiting” stop will be replaced by “Just Texting”. You’ll have to stay there texting until all the other players pass you by.

 

The four railroads will be replaced by four social media companies.  In the inaugural edition, those will be Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp and Instagram. If you land on one, you’ll be able to open an account for $100. Then you’ll be able to collect $10 usage fees from others who land there later in the game. Chances are the list will change in future editions. Those games will obviously need to be renamed for the year they represent.

 

Fans of the classic Monopoly game are probably wondering how I plan to handle the Chance and Community Chest stops on the board. I’ll be leaving those intact. Of course I had to rethink what you’ll read on those cards when you land on one of those spots. I’m still working on what the Chance cards will say and I’m open to suggestions.

 

The Community Chest is where philanthropy comes in. It will become a source of support for both local and international NGOs, especially food banks and organizations that provide animal welfare support. If you pull one of those cards, it may tell you to donate money or volunteer hours to support the group listed. Players should decide in advance which local groups will be the recipients of the night’s largesse.

 

If you’ve already adopted a shelter pet (in real life), you’ll be allowed to take a pass when you pull a card that requires a donation. During the game, you can take that pass once for each pet you’ve adopted. Some of the cards will contain items on wish lists for a variety of NGOs. If you pull one of those, you’re on the honor system to comply when the game is over.

 

Certain Community Chest cards for food banks will require an actual donation of food or money to a local organization. To make the play go smoothly, you’ll want to bring some non-perishables with you to game night. Other cards will ask for recipes, so bring a few of those, too. If you run out of all of these before the game is over, you’re allowed to sign an IOU. As with the animal welfare items, the other players will have to trust you to make good on your promise.

 

The player with the most money at the end of the game wins. Since I put this together rather quickly, I’ll probably make some revisions. Feel free to send me your suggestions along with your Chance card ideas. You can also suggest replacement tokens for future editions, but I’ll decide whether or not to use them. It’s my party after all.

 

Copyright 2022 Business Theatre Unlimited

Recipes and More On Tombstones

 A NY Times article covered a fairly new trend: people having their favorite family recipes engraved on tombstones. The author came across one accidentally when looking for a relative’s grave. That led her to search the cemetery for other examples and she found quite a few. It turns out folks have written books and e-zines with recipes found on memorials.

 

I don’t have a single recipe that would merit being engraved in granite. My mother was a fabulous baker; dozens of her recipes are tombstone worthy. She’s buried in a family plot and her personal marker is a small flat stone with barely enough room for her name and dates. My husband and I plan to be cremated and have yet to decide what instructions to leave for the disposition of our ashes. So I really don’t have a need for a recipe for posterity.

 

Needless to say, that didn’t stop me from pondering what I might want to appear above my remains, were I interred in a cemetery under a large stone marker. The first thing that came to mind was a limerick, some clever little rhyming ditty. I’d normally write something bawdy, but that would limit where it could go. Absent my usual snark, dark humor or blue language, I doubt anything I wrote would cut the mustard against a good recipe. Then again…

Here lie the remains of a lass

Who opted to turn them to ash.

She was incensed to learn that an oversized urn

Would be needed to hold her broad a**.

 

I’d love to have a clever cartoon mark my finally resting place. Maybe I could hire Gary Larsen to draw a Far Side style one that would showcase my humor. He’s so clever and I’ve always admired his use of language. He started creating cartoons again about two years ago. He’s five years younger than I am, but it might be wise to contract for my cartoon before I’ve moved on to the Rainbow Bridge.

 

I’d love to include all the cats I’ve adopted over the years in my final plans. I’ve had each of them cremated and my intention is to comingle their ashes with mine. My husband will also have his cremains in the mix, but we’ve never worked out the logistics. If I last at least five more years, I’ll probably have ten feline children with me. Counting me and Jagdish, that would be a dozen names to memorialize. I could commission an elaborate Indian mandala to incorporate them. I’ll bet that would attract a lot of attention in a cemetery.

 

Here’s another idea that’s more personal. I could list my favorite themes for tree trimming parties I’ve held. They might inspire graveyard wanderers. I made special invitations each year. The invite for my Potpourri Trim included small sachets that I filled with pine scented dried flowers. There was the Teddy Bears’ Trim, with the invitation based on their picnic song. Tulip and Daisy, my cats at the time, were jealous. So the next year I had a Cats’ Trim.

 

Eventually, I co-owned a house with a man who had an awesome collection of vintage model trains. When he set up his elaborate layout, we celebrated with the C M and E Railroad trim, using our initials and our version of the Pufferbellies song. “Down in the basement early in the morning, see the little pufferbellies all in a row. See the station master turn a little handle. Puff puff, toot toot, off they go.”

 

One of my last trims held in Providence had a Cozy Slippers theme. A few of our guests actually wore their slippers, which I really appreciated. Most came in their street shoes. That was disappointing. It’s not like I asked them to wear pajamas, after all, although that could have been a fun theme, too. I had dozens of trims over the years, but those I mentioned here are the ones that I feel are tombstone worthy.

 

Somewhere in this essay could be an idea that you’ll find helpful the next time you have to decide what to put on a gravesite marker. It’s never too soon to plan for the inevitable. Why not get creative about what you’ll leave for posterity?

 

Copyright 2022 Business Theatre Unlimited