Blog - Page 186 of 234 - Adulting: Second- Half

Back This Up

I want to be a back-up singer. I can’t really sing. At all. Or dance. At all. But damn, back-up singers are so incredibly cool. I just really want to be one. Maybe in a future life . . . .

My husband and I attended Elvis Costello’s concert on Sunday night. It was really, really good. After getting over the shock of seeing all of the “old people” there (much like my grandmother-in-law who didn’t particularly like her Senior Living home because everyone there was “so old” – never mind the fact that she was one of the oldest people there), we really enjoyed ourselves. Elvis is still an amazing crooner. His keyboardist, bass player and drummer were all totally on point. The modern art flashing up on the screens behind the band, was a cool, thought-provoking touch. And despite being old, most of the concert goers were really fun and energetic. Most of them stood and danced and sang-shouted for almost all of the concert. But do you know who really stole the show? I’ll tell you who stole the show. The back-up singers stole the show. In particular, the back-up singer dressed in a gold lame jumpsuit with rainbow colored hair extensions that were so long, Crystal Gayle would have been impressed. She looked like a super-hero and when Elvis gave her the spotlight, and she belted out her solo, that back-up singer didn’t just look like a Guardian of the Galaxy, she WAS The Galaxy. That woman could sing like no other I have heard before her!!

I think that being a back-up singer is probably the best part of any gig there is, because the pressure is off. You get to go along for the ride, wear really cool, far out clothes and make-up (very loose work attire policy), stay on stage just as long as the main act, and your primary job is to keep the audience happy, engaged and to keep their clapping in rhythm (or as close to rhythm as the audience can manage, which depends on how cool and coordinated your audience is, but every job has its drawbacks). The superstars always seem incredibly appreciative of their back-up singers and dancers, as they should be. As a back-up singer, you have a super star genius fawning all over you in gratitude, but you don’t let it go to your head.

After the show, as a back-up singer, you can remain anonymous. You have the freedom to run into Walgreens for some water or ibuprofen or go out to eat where you want to after the show and if you can “lose” the superstar who hired you, you can eat in relative, pleasant obscurity, while still charging your meal to the Super Star. You are very secure in your talents, your freedom, and realization of how much you are needed by the genius who hired you.

Yep, back-up singer is where it’s at, in this day and age. It’s like being in The Secret Service, without all of the risk. I love back-up singers. I want to be one. In my next life I will be one, in the life where I actually have some musical talent to capitalize on . . . .

Land of the Free

Happy Veterans Day!

Thank you, with deepest sincerity to all veterans and to your families, for preserving our freedom, at any cost. I am honored to send a special shout-out to my father, my father-in-law and my grandfathers (all three deceased), my sister-in-law, my uncle and my cousin for their selfless service to our country. Thank you, truly. I appreciate, respect, and praise your bravery, courage, and sacrifice, for everything that we hold dear in this country. We are blessed to have citizens that choose to do this service, as a way of life. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Whole Paycheck

They say that you should never go to the grocery store with an empty stomach. I have oft heard this wise wisdom repeated throughout my life and I absolutely believe in its truth, in totality. I actually overheard that proverb said three times over, in a grocery store, just yesterday, as I steered my “filled to the brim, with things toppling over the top of it” cart towards the cashier.

It all started when I realized that we needed more gut shots, beet flavored. Costco got us hooked on this ridiculously expensive juice which is rather awful tasting, but decidedly helpful in the digestion arena. Like many things that Costco has gotten us hooked on, over the years, just when we are at the point of “I can’t ever live without this stuff”, Costco puts up one of its asterisk warning symbols on the price sign, and then quickly discontinues the item, leaving me, the desperate shopper, fumbling, all alone, in the dark, with no direction to go. Costco can be cruel.

Now, to order the said beet shots online, Amazon would charge $25 a bottle because they have to be delivered, cold, in a refrigerated delivery truck. (the beet juice is good, but it isn’t THAT good) So, the closest place that I could find, which regularly stocks 1-3 bottles of this stuff at any given time at a price more reasonable than $25 a bottle, is a local health foods store, similar to a smaller Whole Foods. I mentioned to my husband and to my daughter that I was going to get some more beet juice, if they wanted to ride along. Much to my surprise, both decided to come. It was a beautiful, cool, crisp, fall day and I did have the convertible top down, so I was figuring they just wanted an outing and some fresh air. Nope, not really. It turns out that they were starving. So was I.

Now these types of grocery stores are not the types of stores where people typically “load up”. People typically walk around in these stores with small, eco-friendly, sparsely filled baskets. These stores don’t even have “normal sized” carts. I think that the workers and the shoppers in these types of stores secretly hold the belief that eating is really rather kind of a nasty, gauche thing that you have to do, to stay alive. They all look at each other serenely, knowingly, and with an air of superiority that seems to say, “Yes, we have to eat to stay alive. But WE will only fill our bodies with small, expensive, tasteless nuggets of nothingness to keep ourselves alive and alert for one more day. WE are in the know of the correct ratio of just enough sensible calories to sustain the CORRECT level of alertness. Wink to you, fellow smart, healthy consumer.”

Further, there are absolutely no bargains in these types of stores. There are no BOGOS as far as the eye can see. Sales are gauche in these parts, too. The “Whole Foods/Whole Paycheck” absolutely applies to Whole Foods and to every knock-off store like it. But, since the three of us didn’t bother to fill our tummies before we headed off for a couple of bottles of beet juice, instead we decided that instead of going out for dinner, we would “eat in” last night and our dinner would consist of everything that looked good to all three of us, in every single aisle of the store. By the time that we got home and laid everything out that we had bought, our counter top looked like it was helicoptered in from The Old Country Buffet, minus the chocolate fountain. (but we had at least six different desserts to make up for that loss.) We had managed to buy out the store, of everything they had on the low end of health and the high end of sugar and calories (but hey, it was natural cane sugar – no chemicals). I purposely threw the receipt right into the garbage before giving it another look. I didn’t want to get sick, as my stomach was gorged. Luckily, the beet shot which I just took this morning, has me all straightened out and back to even keel, and in good senses. There will be no more impromptu family trips to ANY type of grocery store, except for right after a large dinner.

Knowing Yourself

“If you spend enough time with people who don’t laugh, you may start to think you’re not funny. Similar errors in judgment could be a takeaway from hanging out with the incurious, unkind and aesthetically oblivious. . . . Remember that the good life always involves people with the qualities we value.” – Holiday Mathis

After dinner last night, my husband and I stopped at an adorable cafe for coffee and dessert. We had time to kill (yes, that’s my excuse for getting dessert) because we had to pick up our daughter from an outing which she was having with her tennis friends. That is the only reason why we stopped at the cafe, despite passing it on the road many times before and saying to each other that “we MUST give that place a try.”

The cafe is European style. It is furnished with modern, sleek, yet comfortable Scandinavian furniture with frosted glass tables that change colors from the encased subtly color changing lights. The atmosphere is unique, relaxing and elegant. The gelato and the sweet, delicate desserts were absolutely scrumptious, and the coffee was divine. The proprietor of the cafe could not have been more gracious, welcoming, and delightful. And we were the only people there.

My husband and I both left the cafe, hoping desperately for the proprietor, that the cafe would stay in business, but we both already had the sinking feeling that we might not get another time to visit the eatery. Its prospects did not seem good. The problem mostly appeared to be with its location. The main street of town is filled with restaurants, breweries and shops. The cafe is on a quiet side street, a little bit out of the way. My husband is the one who thought to give it a try, when I suggested getting some dessert. I had suggested Panera or a local ice cream shop, both frequented by us and others, many times over. The cafe, despite being on my “local bucket list”, never really crossed my mind.

I could turn this blog post into a treatise of shopping “local” or “Flocal”, as we call it in Florida, but that is not really what has been swimming around in my mind, since this experience. More so, I have been thinking about the fact that just because something isn’t being responded to in a big way, or becoming popular by the masses, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s not good, or even great. The local Panera and the Tastee Treat (both chain franchises) that I had in mind for dessert, are bland and pedestrian and mediocre, at best, compared to what we experienced at the little Euro Cafe. I do have high hopes that word-of-mouth and the influx of “Snowbirds” coming into our town, will give this cafe the recognition and business that it deserves in the coming months. But I also know that we humans have a tendency to “follow the herd” blindly, when it comes to choices that we make, which makes us so vulnerable and easily swayed by the mass marketers, and the well-backed “influencers” of our time. Thinking outside of the box and then acting on that thinking, takes work, introspection, courage, curiosity and risk, that which we are often too adverse to experiencing. We are quick to follow the paths and the patterns laid out for us by our families, our friends, our institutions, and our society, without giving it much individual thought, that there may be more interesting, resonating paths that are equally viable options to try.

The great talents, gifts and contributions to society from Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Vincent Van Gogh, Franz Kafka, Gregor Mendel and Henry David Thoreau, among many others, were not appreciated until after their deaths. Would any of these brilliant people, who I just listed, whose accomplishments are still shaping our thoughts and our history and our knowledge and our ideas today, stop applying their gifts and their energy and their motivations, to the lives that they lead, with the fore-knowledge that this would be the case? I think not.

I like the idea in the opening quote that the good life involves people, places and things that embody the qualities that we value. Maybe that means slowing down and really pondering each of our choices, even choices as simple as to where to go to get some dessert. Are our choices really reflecting who we believe we are, at our very cores? Are our choices really reflecting what we say we value in life? One of my favorite proverbs is “Actions speak louder than words.” As someone who spends a lot of time playing around with “words”, I understand how easy it can be to start spin doctoring experiences, even to myself. “Walking the talk” takes a whole hell of a lot more courage, insight, and integrity than lying to myself with flowery words, ideas, images and sometimes, even excuses.

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Cigam Era Skoob

Hello my favorite readers in the world!!! Thank you so much for supporting me and my blog. I appreciate you so much! New readers, Fridays are really light here at Adulting – Second Half. We keep it surface level on Fridays. On Friday, I list three favorite products, services, books, songs, websites, ideas, etc. and I encourage you to add your favorites to the Comments section. Please check out previous Friday posts for more favorites. Here are today’s favorites:

Books Are Magic merch – I am very excited to get my black Books Are Magic t-shirt, scheduled to arrive any day now. Books Are Magic is an old-fashioned, awesome, “hope that this type of store, never ever goes away”, book store in Brooklyn. They sell all kinds of merchandise, such as mugs, key chains, pennants with the fact, “Books Are Magic” printed on them. My favorite quirky item is a t-shirt for kids. It says “Cigam Era Skoob”. (Despite my many years of studying Latin, I had to look that one up. It’s “Books are Magic” spelled backwards. I know . . . Duh! Back then, anyone could take Latin.)

Joy For All Pets – Despite having living, breathing versions, I want one of these pets. (or maybe even two) These interactive, high tech stuffed animals were designed by Hasbro to give seniors a pet to love, without the mess, fuss, and expense, of a real pet. They are about as life-like as you can get in a machine, and they have brought comfort to seniors, all around the world. I have also have seen videos where people have purchased Joy for All pets for children who can’t have live pets due to allergies and housing restrictions, etc. This is like West World, without the creepiness. Just love . . . and joy for all.

Angry Orange Odor Eliminator – “Smells Like Heaven, Works Like Hell” is printed on this concentrate’s bottle. I like this stuff so much, that this may be a repeat, on my Friday Favorites. If you have a nasty smell somewhere that just won’t go away, this is what you need. I have never experienced a better bad odor eliminator, in my life. I order mine on Amazon and a little goes a LONG way.

That’s it for today! Have a wonderful, three day weekend!!! Books are magic! Life is magic!

Falalalala, It’s November

I had dinner with friends last night. While walking through the town to get to the restaurant where we were meeting, I noticed Christmas lights everywhere. They were adorning shop windows, street lights, and there were even a few animated Santa Clauses. One building had already changed its spotlights, to bright red and green. (and keep in mind, here in our town, it’s still 85 degrees outside)

My eldest son, who lives outside of New York City, texted a picture of the interior of a NYC German restaurant where he had met his friends for dinner, this past weekend. I’ve attached the picture above. The decorations are decidedly amazingly beautiful. But how long do decadent holiday decorations need to be displayed before “amazingly beautiful” turns into “claustrophobic-ally repellent”? Is it the subconscious Grinch in me, or even more so than ever before, are we going to skip right over Thanksgiving this year, into Christmas-on-steroids?

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G and G

I love the writing of Kelly Corrigan. I just binge read two of her books which I faintly remember reading, at least snippets of, before. (on an aside, don’t you love the word “snippet”? It’s a great, fun word. It would make a really good, cute pet’s name. Snippet, come here, boy!) The first book of Kelly Corrigan’s books that I just read, is actually her latest book, entitled Tell Me More. One of my favorite chapters in that book is “No”, in which she talks about evolving to understand how important it is to cultivate the ability to say “no.” Kelly’s mother has perfected the ability to say “no”, to the point of an exact science. In Kelly’s words:

“My mother had her own mind and she used it. . . . She didn’t demand her way, but she didn’t pretend to be without preference either. . . . Very few people I’ve known are able to set themselves free the way my mother has. Liberated by the simple act of saying no – which I submit is impressive for any woman, and downright radical for one raised in the Nice’n Easy generation – my mom had always been able to find outs where others could not. Looking back, I think it came down to her impressive willingness to be disliked and her utterly unromantic position that people should take serious – if not total – responsibility for their own happiness.”

When Kelly Corrigan was growing up, her parents were, in many ways, polar opposites. Her father was an easy-going, extremely loving, extroverted sports fanatic. Her mother was the practical, no fuss/no muss sort who was introverted to the point of preferring a “Party of One.” They usually drove separate cars to all outings, including church and family gatherings. The second Kelly Corrigan book, which I just devoured in a little over a day, was called Glitter and Glue. Glitter and Glue is a name Kelly’s mother came up with, for the style in which she and her husband parented and raised up their family. Kelly Corrigan’s dad was the “Glitter” and her mom, was the “Glue.” Kelly didn’t come close to fully appreciating the “Glue” part of the equation, until she became a female head of household, herself.

We all need “Glitter and Glue”, don’t we? Too much glue, and we are just a gloppy, boring puddle of mired down rules, and rigid necessities, but without the glue, the glitter has nothing to stick to, nothing to help it shine. It just falls to the ground in a difficult to clean up, spread out, pointless, formless mess. Now that we are in our Second Half of Adulting, we now have to do a lot of our own self-parenting. Our own parents are getting up there in age, or are sometimes even gone, and our children have grown past the need of tireless, uninterrupted daily parenting. We need to take responsibility for our own needs now, and part of that includes parenting our own selves with a strong foundation of glue (our habits, our beliefs, our routines), and yet, a sparkle of glitter that makes it all fun and exciting and seemingly, more worthwhile and meaningful. Because in the end, Kelly Corrigan’s mother is absolutely and totally correct. We are all completely responsible for our own happiness, as “unromantic” as that seems.

“Learn to say no. And when you do, don’t complain and don’t explain. Every excuse you make is like an invitation to ask you again in a different way.” – Kelly Corrigan, a takeaway from her friend’s three years and $11,000 worth of therapy

Star Wars

My family, friends and regular readers know that I faithfully read my horoscopes every day. Cue in the prayers for my soul, from my more traditionally religious friends, family, and readers. Cue in the sighs for my naivety, from my more intellectual friends, family, and readers. Cue in prayers and sighs and tongue clucking, from the smartest and most religious among them all. Cue in the eye rolls from my kids. Cue in the cute wink from my patient, amused, “totally gets me” husband.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I feel the need to warn you all, that today’s stars forbode angry tempers among all of the signs. There is a Pluto-Mars opposition that only occurs once a year, happening today. According to the stars and the scopes, it is likely to be an edgy, ornery day for all of us. So, my advice is to take a few breaths before you react to anything or anyone. My advice is to respond calmly versus reacting, reaction-ally. My advice for today, is to think before you speak, give others the benefit of the doubt, and protect yourself from undue toxicity.

Now some would argue that this is good advice to heed any day of the week or of the year, for that matter, and I concur. See, my point is proven. Is reading your horoscopes such a bad thing or is it just a reminder, on a daily basis, to be your best self, while also providing an explanation and an excuse, when you are not quite your best self? All bases are covered. You are welcome.

“The only day to watch is Tuesday when Mars squares Pluto, a combustible situation. Friends or team members could be ornery, so sit tight and let this pass.” – My Stars

“Tempers could flare on Tuesday, when warrior Mars forms a combative square (90-degree angle) to controlling, domineering Pluto. Fortunately, this challenging transit only comes around once a year, but when it does, a clash of egos could quickly escalate into an epic showdown. People will be hotheaded and ready to sting, and even the most enlightened among us won’t be able to totally dodge the intensity. If emotions are intensifying, step out for some air instead of getting sucked into the drama. Socially, beware the wolf in sheep’s clothing. That quiet observer could be an undercover competitor with a secret agenda—or not! But since it’s going to be hard to tell near Tuesday, keep your cards closer to your vest. Mars and Pluto are the lusty co-rulers of Scorpio—and in a combustible square, they can stoke passion. Simmering attractions may explode, but they might also get complicated quickly. Rule of thumb? Get a grip before you strip.” – Astrotwins

Morphing

I fear, as I age, that I am becoming more and more “set in my ways”. This is something that I swore to myself, that I would never become. “Set in my ways.” To me, “getting set in my ways” is as ugly a sign of aging, as the ever increasing age spots that appear to be multiplying on my body at an exponential basis. Two age spots have just appeared on my left hand, I noticed, as I just glanced down at my hands, resting on the keyboard.

Daylight Saving Time (there is officially no “s” after Saving, btw) has thrown me for a big old loop. And this is annoying, because this fall end of Daylight Saving Time, is the one part that I used to actually always like, and to look forward to, but now, I notice that this particular Daylight Saving Time has just made me feel grumble-y. I am kind of annoyed that it is now light outside when I drive my daughter to school. I miss the darkness that helped to camouflage my bedhead, my crooked glasses, and my smeared mascara running down the side of my cheek that is typically more wrinkled than the other side of my face because I sleep on my side, much to the chagrin of my perfectionist dermatologist. The mask is off, and all of my morning imperfections are bared for every sneering, judgmental teenager to see.

Since the clocks fell back, everything feels just not quite right. Everything feels just a little “off.” When I was younger, I think that I just rolled with things a little bit better. Or maybe I wasn’t as perceptive. I didn’t notice as much. Maybe life was more of a blur when I was younger. Maybe I wasn’t quite as introspective and self aware back then. I’m almost 50. I’ve accumulated a lot of moments in life. I’ve learned that change is inevitable and I am not really in control of almost anything. I dropped that delusion a while ago. (well, maybe I still hang on to that illusion of control, here and there, but at least I am now aware that I’m delusional)

I had lunch with a good friend of mine the other day. We have known each other for thirty years. Lately our lunches center around the game of, “Is this normal?” Like, for instance, my hips are achy almost every single night, “Is this normal?” And then when she cops to achy hips, too, I feel sorry for her and greatly relieved, all at the same time. I imagine that if I called her up right now, somewhere in the conversation, I would sneak in, “Daylight Saving Time really messes with me more than ever. Is this normal?” And being a good friend, whether she honestly feels this way or not (although I suspect that she does), she would say, “Oh yes. I hope that the Florida legislature abolishes it soon. It really messes with my circadian rhythms, more than ever. I’m a mess.” And then I would smile with her, knowingly and appreciatively.

Yep, those are the kinds of conversations I have now with my friends. “Never Have I Ever” has morphed into “Is This Normal?” so fluidly, that I’m not even sure, exactly, of the precise moment when the game changed. And change irritates me now more than ever. I feel grumble-y, even after a restful weekend, with an extra hour of sleep. Is this normal?

“Oh, my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways, And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low, I’m at home and at ease on a track that I know not, And restless and lost on a road that I know.” – Henry Lawson

Satiation

“Happiness is not the same as pleasure. Pleasure is an immediate experience, very transient in nature, that’s enjoyable, and if we experience a great deal of it – there’s a sense of satiation.” –Frederick Lenz

After a delicious, lingering, multi-course meal last night, and an enjoyable cool and crisp walk to our car, feeling the first hints of autumn breaking the ridiculous summer heat that we’ve experienced for what feels like an eternity, and then falling into a deep, dreamy sleep with the understanding that we got a guilt-free bonus hour of pure rest last night, the only thing that I could think of this morning was the word “satiation”. So, I looked up quotes on being satiated.

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May you feel satiated this morning, my dear friends and readers. May you feel satiated with everything that brings you pleasure. Good books to read; good shows to watch; good, warm fur to pet; good slippers to comfort your feet; good family and friends to laugh with; good, hot coffee to warm your inners; good, crusty pastries to pleasure your tongue; good, warm sunshine to bask in; good, interesting sights to see; good, soothing, long, baths with good, clean, sweet smelling soap; good music in your eager, discerning ears, good news in your inbox. May you feel completely, utterly satiated with the goodness of Life. And may you bask in that satiation.