Often I find the novel better than the film, but in the case of the film PS I Love You, I like the movie better. I bogged down while reading the story, but found myself resenting intrusions while watching the film this afternoon. For a phone that seldom rings, mine rang off the hook during the 2 hours I decided to watch a video. I hadn't intended to rent this movie, but the nice lady at the local video store recommended it -- and provided the bag of microwave popcorn free.
Hillary Swank is not a particularly attractive woman, being thin to the point of emaciation and somewhat "horse faced," with a long, thin face and large, large teeth. Her fake crying is patently phony, and the Irish lad who plays her husband is too old to play the part of the suddenly love struck young male lead, but I still liked the movie. The story weaves past and present, which can be off-putting, but it makes sense that to tell about today, the viewer has to know about yesterday. I even watched some of the deleted scenes and am glad that they were cut from the film as they did nothing to tell the story better than it was told in the final cut.
I like the ending best, when the mother, who was abandoned by her husband when her daughter was 12 years old, shares what it's like to be inexplicably dumped by a man who used to make her laugh. There's a lot of that going around, and it's not easy to understand why one walks away and the other has to find a way to muddle through the aftermath. Kathy Bates, the actress playing the role of the mother, helps it to make sense for her daughter, whose husband dies at age 35, instead of living happily into old age together with his wife, who celebrates her 30th birthday after his death.
Sure, it's a chick flick, but I think that men can learn about women from watching female films. There is a scene where Harry Connick asks Hillary Swank for the secret of knowing what women want, and Swank responds with, "they have no idea." It's so true, but we spend a whole lot of time thinking about what we want, how we are going to get it, and what we'll do with it once we have it -- and sometimes that is time we should spend enjoying what we have, rather than waiting for what we think we'd rather have.
I'm probably going to watch this one again as it's not due back until midnight Saturday.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Winning
As I was growing up, I hated playing games because the males in my family enjoyed obliterating the competition, regardless of the game. Dodge ball could have been more aptly called “bruise ball,” and any form of engagement requiring a bat was just pure dangerous. Even “Go, Fish” was a blood sport, so I gave up games at an early age and cannot say I missed them.
My lack of enjoyment carried into mandatory phys ed during both junior high and high school: I was a great equipment carrier and shower monitor, doing anything so I didn’t have to compete on the field of battle with weapons of mass destruction, including tennis and badminton racquets, bows and arrows, and, of course, both softball and cricket bats. We were more civilized back in the 60s than students today, but we still suffered from the psychos who used phys ed to level the playing field of teenage angst.
I do enjoy a good game of Scrabble, but I define “good game” slightly differently than most players, preferring to use my letters cleverly, rather than accruing the highest score. As a matter of fact, I prefer to play Scrabble with those who will agree not to keep score. However, my son is a sneaky scorer who will claim not to keep score, but then know whether he has won or lost at the end of the game, and by how much. And even though we don’t keep score, he can become quite pissy when he loses!
Computer games have taught me that the odds in a game pretty much assure that I will seldom, if ever, actually win. I played Zuma until I cleared the board once – all levels completed—and then quit playing as it took too much time [months], energy and emotional resources to accept the constant failure to achieve that goal. Likewise with both Free Cell and Spider Solitaire, both of which consistently defeat my best attempts to win two games in a row. I’m much better at Free Cell than I am at Spider Solitaire, sometimes stacking up a 62% Free Cell success rate, compared to my dismal high average of 16% at Spider Solitaire. When I get to 100 games completed, I hit the reset button and start over as the higher the number of games played, the more difficult it is to change the percentage by winning a few games here and there.
My favorite computer game is Bookworm, a word game that can continue endlessly, or at least as long as the letters allow the player to make words, accrue points, and not be wiped out in a burn-out. Several times I’ve made it to 50+k points before forcing myself to stop playing and do something constructive.
When I contemplate buying a lottery ticket or visiting a local casino in an effort to boost my retirement income, I remind myself that no matter how much I play to win, the odds are against me. Thus, I forego the pleasure of throwing my hard-earned money away and send a donation to charity instead. When the lottery claims that I cannot win if I do not play, I know that a better slogan is that even if I play, I won’t win!
My lack of enjoyment carried into mandatory phys ed during both junior high and high school: I was a great equipment carrier and shower monitor, doing anything so I didn’t have to compete on the field of battle with weapons of mass destruction, including tennis and badminton racquets, bows and arrows, and, of course, both softball and cricket bats. We were more civilized back in the 60s than students today, but we still suffered from the psychos who used phys ed to level the playing field of teenage angst.
I do enjoy a good game of Scrabble, but I define “good game” slightly differently than most players, preferring to use my letters cleverly, rather than accruing the highest score. As a matter of fact, I prefer to play Scrabble with those who will agree not to keep score. However, my son is a sneaky scorer who will claim not to keep score, but then know whether he has won or lost at the end of the game, and by how much. And even though we don’t keep score, he can become quite pissy when he loses!
Computer games have taught me that the odds in a game pretty much assure that I will seldom, if ever, actually win. I played Zuma until I cleared the board once – all levels completed—and then quit playing as it took too much time [months], energy and emotional resources to accept the constant failure to achieve that goal. Likewise with both Free Cell and Spider Solitaire, both of which consistently defeat my best attempts to win two games in a row. I’m much better at Free Cell than I am at Spider Solitaire, sometimes stacking up a 62% Free Cell success rate, compared to my dismal high average of 16% at Spider Solitaire. When I get to 100 games completed, I hit the reset button and start over as the higher the number of games played, the more difficult it is to change the percentage by winning a few games here and there.
My favorite computer game is Bookworm, a word game that can continue endlessly, or at least as long as the letters allow the player to make words, accrue points, and not be wiped out in a burn-out. Several times I’ve made it to 50+k points before forcing myself to stop playing and do something constructive.
When I contemplate buying a lottery ticket or visiting a local casino in an effort to boost my retirement income, I remind myself that no matter how much I play to win, the odds are against me. Thus, I forego the pleasure of throwing my hard-earned money away and send a donation to charity instead. When the lottery claims that I cannot win if I do not play, I know that a better slogan is that even if I play, I won’t win!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Two Down: One Major Repair Left to Do
The car was jump started by Triple A, driven directly to the gas station ($40 didn't bring it to 1/2 a tank), and then to the mechanic who has taken care of it since the day of purchase.
An hour later, the diagnosis: alternator is shot and may have taken out the battery.
Prognosis: car stays overnight, the alternator is replaced, then the diagnostics are rerun to see whether the battery is still functional or needs to be replaced.
Estimate: alternator $450, and I'm hoping this includes labor
New battery about $150 installed
Peace of mind: priceless.
An hour later, the diagnosis: alternator is shot and may have taken out the battery.
Prognosis: car stays overnight, the alternator is replaced, then the diagnostics are rerun to see whether the battery is still functional or needs to be replaced.
Estimate: alternator $450, and I'm hoping this includes labor
New battery about $150 installed
Peace of mind: priceless.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Speaking of George ...
I recently learned that my next-door neighbor's name is not George.
His son stopped by for a visit and was getting his family into the car while I was watering in the back yard. He greeted me, I greeted him, and then commented on how much I enjoy having his father, George, as a next-door neighbor.
The son told me that his father's name is not George, providing me with his correct name in the process.
I apologized profusely for the error. I explained that I asked George his name when I introduced myself, and I was sure he said it was George. As a matter of fact, I continued, I asked him if his name was George, and he answered, "it's okay."
Well, the son explained, he thinks it's kinda cute that I call him George, so don't worry about it.
To which George, said, "it's okay."
I get it: when he doesn't understand English, he just says "it's okay" and life goes on. Perhaps I could take a life lesson from ... George. Don't sweat the small stuff: it's okay.
His son stopped by for a visit and was getting his family into the car while I was watering in the back yard. He greeted me, I greeted him, and then commented on how much I enjoy having his father, George, as a next-door neighbor.
The son told me that his father's name is not George, providing me with his correct name in the process.
I apologized profusely for the error. I explained that I asked George his name when I introduced myself, and I was sure he said it was George. As a matter of fact, I continued, I asked him if his name was George, and he answered, "it's okay."
Well, the son explained, he thinks it's kinda cute that I call him George, so don't worry about it.
To which George, said, "it's okay."
I get it: when he doesn't understand English, he just says "it's okay" and life goes on. Perhaps I could take a life lesson from ... George. Don't sweat the small stuff: it's okay.
Slightly Askew Cosmic Convergence
Those bright, chirpy people who smile and positive-attitude their way through life present a challenge for me: doesn't anything ever piss them off, get them down, send them into either a convulsion of cursing or a torrent of tears?
For instance, let's say one of those P-A people left on a 3-week vacation and came home to find their car is dead: totally, completely dead. Do they really acknowledge this circumstance with an "oh, that's just life" and "let's all move on" as they sing a chorus of the happy working song? My reaction was just a touch off that center as when I left it parked in my garage, my car was fine. My housesitter left a voice message that he drove my car because his truck crapped out -- and he's really sorry that my car is now dead. He called Triple A and the employee said the car probably needs a new battery.
Great.
I feel badly that it happened on the housesitter's watch, but, meanwhile, how do I get the car out of the garage and to my mechanic? The battery is relatively new, purchased just about a year ago and there may be some warranty left on it, so I'm actually hoping it's just a battery problem. I doubt that my mechanic makes house calls, but I'll ask.
I replaced the microwave that didn't work yesterday morning when I tried to use it. Since I had to go to Sam's Club anyway to replenish my totally empty food fridge and restock the beverage fridge, I decided not to spend time worrying about the dead microwave that could be used to worry about the dead car. While I was at it, I also threw a new keyboard into the cart as my recent $20 find refused to type double letters, causing a page filled with typos, all of which had to be manually fixed. That's a P-A moment, right, proactively solving problems?
My kitchen sink was leaking before I left, but now the water is going directly from the sink into the dish pan I positioned to catch the drip before I left on vacation. It appears that I now have a complete drainage failure. I hand-washed all the dishes left in the dishwasher and was glad it hadn't been run as that would have been an even bigger disaster than a leaking sink. That was pretty much P-A, right, looking on the positive side of a huge plumbing issue?
Mia is happy to have me home, George next door is delighted that I'm back so we can "talk," him in Spanish, which I don't speak, and me in English, which he doesn't speak, while I hand water the back yard. He had much to say last night, very little of which I understood, but Mia sat by the fence and listened, enraptured with his every word and whistle. After a year of spending time with George, I think she now speaks fluent Spanish.
Wish I did because then I could be bi-lingually positive as I put my dreary, everyday life back together and handle all the life annoyances that come with it.
For instance, let's say one of those P-A people left on a 3-week vacation and came home to find their car is dead: totally, completely dead. Do they really acknowledge this circumstance with an "oh, that's just life" and "let's all move on" as they sing a chorus of the happy working song? My reaction was just a touch off that center as when I left it parked in my garage, my car was fine. My housesitter left a voice message that he drove my car because his truck crapped out -- and he's really sorry that my car is now dead. He called Triple A and the employee said the car probably needs a new battery.
Great.
I feel badly that it happened on the housesitter's watch, but, meanwhile, how do I get the car out of the garage and to my mechanic? The battery is relatively new, purchased just about a year ago and there may be some warranty left on it, so I'm actually hoping it's just a battery problem. I doubt that my mechanic makes house calls, but I'll ask.
I replaced the microwave that didn't work yesterday morning when I tried to use it. Since I had to go to Sam's Club anyway to replenish my totally empty food fridge and restock the beverage fridge, I decided not to spend time worrying about the dead microwave that could be used to worry about the dead car. While I was at it, I also threw a new keyboard into the cart as my recent $20 find refused to type double letters, causing a page filled with typos, all of which had to be manually fixed. That's a P-A moment, right, proactively solving problems?
My kitchen sink was leaking before I left, but now the water is going directly from the sink into the dish pan I positioned to catch the drip before I left on vacation. It appears that I now have a complete drainage failure. I hand-washed all the dishes left in the dishwasher and was glad it hadn't been run as that would have been an even bigger disaster than a leaking sink. That was pretty much P-A, right, looking on the positive side of a huge plumbing issue?
Mia is happy to have me home, George next door is delighted that I'm back so we can "talk," him in Spanish, which I don't speak, and me in English, which he doesn't speak, while I hand water the back yard. He had much to say last night, very little of which I understood, but Mia sat by the fence and listened, enraptured with his every word and whistle. After a year of spending time with George, I think she now speaks fluent Spanish.
Wish I did because then I could be bi-lingually positive as I put my dreary, everyday life back together and handle all the life annoyances that come with it.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Of Course
It came as no surprise to me that I was chosen for the head to toe search at PSP: I wear my medical alert bracelet when I travel, which is made from Spanish silver, and it set off the alarm. I also had on my wrist brace, so that got the bomb-making residue test, along with my shoes.
Whatever.
My AA flight club number worked for the employee at the check-in gate, so cosmic balance seemed to be in full force. Made it to Dallas without a problem sitting next to a woman whose son was a former student and who writes plays for her church. When she shared an idea she's developing for a new Christmas play, I was able to recommend a play from the 1950s that could help her finish her current project. Also, was shown family photos, so life was good.
Dallas, however, got a bit dicey. Due to weather in Philly, we were going to experience a slight delay, airspeak for load the plane, then sit in it until all passengers are hot, hostile, and explosive. Of course, don't turn on the air to exacerbate the problems and add some interest to the pre-existing personality disorders that no amount of medication can contain under the extenuating circumstances.
It's all part of being in the moment.
Amazingly, streams of travelers were boarded during the delay, perhaps as many as several dozen. Once every seat on the plane was filled and the over-head bins bulging from the carry-ons, the "weather" in Philly miraculously cleared ... and we were ready to push away from the gateway.
Three delays, but finally cool air circulating, before we were cleared for take-off, which was mini-delayed once we were in the line for lift-off. In the air, the pilots made up for some of the delay, so we actually landed in Philly a bit over an hour later than scheduled, not too bad in today's world.
I apologized to the couple sitting in the seats with me when the delays accrued and explained that there's an asterisk next to my name: the major carriers know when I buy a ticket and formulate a plan to mess with my mind. Too bad the others flying with me are dragged into my cosmic comedy.
Whatever.
My AA flight club number worked for the employee at the check-in gate, so cosmic balance seemed to be in full force. Made it to Dallas without a problem sitting next to a woman whose son was a former student and who writes plays for her church. When she shared an idea she's developing for a new Christmas play, I was able to recommend a play from the 1950s that could help her finish her current project. Also, was shown family photos, so life was good.
Dallas, however, got a bit dicey. Due to weather in Philly, we were going to experience a slight delay, airspeak for load the plane, then sit in it until all passengers are hot, hostile, and explosive. Of course, don't turn on the air to exacerbate the problems and add some interest to the pre-existing personality disorders that no amount of medication can contain under the extenuating circumstances.
It's all part of being in the moment.
Amazingly, streams of travelers were boarded during the delay, perhaps as many as several dozen. Once every seat on the plane was filled and the over-head bins bulging from the carry-ons, the "weather" in Philly miraculously cleared ... and we were ready to push away from the gateway.
Three delays, but finally cool air circulating, before we were cleared for take-off, which was mini-delayed once we were in the line for lift-off. In the air, the pilots made up for some of the delay, so we actually landed in Philly a bit over an hour later than scheduled, not too bad in today's world.
I apologized to the couple sitting in the seats with me when the delays accrued and explained that there's an asterisk next to my name: the major carriers know when I buy a ticket and formulate a plan to mess with my mind. Too bad the others flying with me are dragged into my cosmic comedy.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
The Convenience of On-line Check-in
Do other people have these issues or is it I who foul up the computer systems associated with airline travel?
I booked my flight via Travelocity -- which now has "no record" of my reservation, although I have a saved electronic copy and a hard copy, both complete with Travelocity Trip ID and airline confirmation #. After repeatedly trying to log-on to my Travelocity account and being assured that my log-in name and password don't exist, I gave up and enrolled anew.
As I should have known, repeating the process does not solve the current problem, it simply creates a new problem. Now, I am greeted as a "new" customer and still don't have access to my former account although I used the identical info for the new account as for the old. There is no history of my existence within the Travelocity system, even though I've used the site for the past many years to book my flights. But ... I was warmly welcomed via email to the convenience of the Travelocity experience.
Rather than continuing to deal with Travelocity, I decided to use the American Airlines website for check-in! Not. I can access the site, but cannot check-in on-line unless I first sign up for an AA Advantage account, which I finally did. Had the same problem with United on a recent flight, so am also now a member of that flight club, but have never been able to use that functionality and have no miles accrued because the site doesn't accept my membership number!
Before signing up for the service, when I first attempted to use the on-line check-in, I could get to a certain place and then could not finish the process. Now, with the new AA flight club approval, the check-in box allows me to check in on-line, but ... that functionality is not working, so please try back later. And again. And again. And again.
In the past, I've showed up an hour early for the flight and either used a major credit card or stood in line for check-in. Guess that's what I'll be doing again this time because the convenience of on-line check-in doesn't seem to be an option for this traveler at this time!
I booked my flight via Travelocity -- which now has "no record" of my reservation, although I have a saved electronic copy and a hard copy, both complete with Travelocity Trip ID and airline confirmation #. After repeatedly trying to log-on to my Travelocity account and being assured that my log-in name and password don't exist, I gave up and enrolled anew.
As I should have known, repeating the process does not solve the current problem, it simply creates a new problem. Now, I am greeted as a "new" customer and still don't have access to my former account although I used the identical info for the new account as for the old. There is no history of my existence within the Travelocity system, even though I've used the site for the past many years to book my flights. But ... I was warmly welcomed via email to the convenience of the Travelocity experience.
Rather than continuing to deal with Travelocity, I decided to use the American Airlines website for check-in! Not. I can access the site, but cannot check-in on-line unless I first sign up for an AA Advantage account, which I finally did. Had the same problem with United on a recent flight, so am also now a member of that flight club, but have never been able to use that functionality and have no miles accrued because the site doesn't accept my membership number!
Before signing up for the service, when I first attempted to use the on-line check-in, I could get to a certain place and then could not finish the process. Now, with the new AA flight club approval, the check-in box allows me to check in on-line, but ... that functionality is not working, so please try back later. And again. And again. And again.
In the past, I've showed up an hour early for the flight and either used a major credit card or stood in line for check-in. Guess that's what I'll be doing again this time because the convenience of on-line check-in doesn't seem to be an option for this traveler at this time!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
I was abused as a child ...
which is either my reason, my explanation, or my excuse for my bad behavior as an adult.
Recently, I listened to an interview with a person accused of committing serial crimes and was not surprised to hear the "dysfunctional family" defense become the justification for the criminal activity.
Some general personal observations:
(1) you are unique, possessing genetic characteristics, but your own person. Don't adhere yourself to behaviors based on genetics: they give a predisposition toward certain characteristics and behaviors, but it's a lot more than that when it comes to how you turn out!
Also, (2) it is a challenging lesson to learn that family is the blood you carry, but not always the people who support you when you need it. It amazes me how some family members can boast in public to enhance their image, but never follow through in private.
(3) I learned at an early age that it's up to me to be the person I am; thus, when all is said and done, either I have made it or I have failed to reach my goals. No one else takes credit, but no one else is to blame.
Thus, grow up, get over it, and accept full responsibility for your own life. Flip Wilson's tag line was "the Devil made me do it." Maybe that will work for you, too?
Recently, I listened to an interview with a person accused of committing serial crimes and was not surprised to hear the "dysfunctional family" defense become the justification for the criminal activity.
Some general personal observations:
(1) you are unique, possessing genetic characteristics, but your own person. Don't adhere yourself to behaviors based on genetics: they give a predisposition toward certain characteristics and behaviors, but it's a lot more than that when it comes to how you turn out!
Also, (2) it is a challenging lesson to learn that family is the blood you carry, but not always the people who support you when you need it. It amazes me how some family members can boast in public to enhance their image, but never follow through in private.
(3) I learned at an early age that it's up to me to be the person I am; thus, when all is said and done, either I have made it or I have failed to reach my goals. No one else takes credit, but no one else is to blame.
Thus, grow up, get over it, and accept full responsibility for your own life. Flip Wilson's tag line was "the Devil made me do it." Maybe that will work for you, too?
Elder Advice
As the birthdays continue to accrue, my in-box receives more encouraging messages from well-intentioned (younger) friends. This one, however, comes eerily upon the recent death of the ascribed author of the words, George Carlin.
What I have learned is that my mother's words haunt me. She told me as she advanced into her 70s that it surprised her each morning when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror and she didn't recognize the old woman who looked back at her. She commented that within herself, she felt the same as she had felt when she was in her 20s: youthful, filled with the joys of life, ready to live for 100 years. It was only when she saw herself in that unguarded morning moment that she realized how many of those years had already passed.
I'm heading toward the middle 60s and beginning to wonder about how many more years are pre-programmed as my life span. I've always been healthy, but have had to adjust my thinking to include the 2 broken arms, the asthma, and the diabetes II that remind me that even healthy peoples' bodies deteriorate over time. I continue to awake each morning and accomplish most of the items on my to-do list, but some of those items require a helping hand -- and there isn't one handy, so I do what I can do and move what I cannot accomplish without help to the bottom of the list.
Re: George's wisdom, it's what I've heard for a lifetime, but the admonitions seem more relevant when there are fewer years ahead than there are behind. I've tacked them on to this posting in case you are the kind of person who needs the list to remind you how life is to be lived, rather than regretted when it comes to a close.
George Carlin's Views on Aging: HOW TO STAY YOUNG
1. Throw out non-essential numbers: this includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay 'them.'
2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.
3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. 'An idle mind is the devil's workshop,' and the devil's name is Alzheimer's.
4. Enjoy the simple things.
5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with you your entire life is yourself. Be ALIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.
8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county, or to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is.
10. Tell the people you love that you love them at every opportunity.
REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
What I have learned is that my mother's words haunt me. She told me as she advanced into her 70s that it surprised her each morning when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror and she didn't recognize the old woman who looked back at her. She commented that within herself, she felt the same as she had felt when she was in her 20s: youthful, filled with the joys of life, ready to live for 100 years. It was only when she saw herself in that unguarded morning moment that she realized how many of those years had already passed.
I'm heading toward the middle 60s and beginning to wonder about how many more years are pre-programmed as my life span. I've always been healthy, but have had to adjust my thinking to include the 2 broken arms, the asthma, and the diabetes II that remind me that even healthy peoples' bodies deteriorate over time. I continue to awake each morning and accomplish most of the items on my to-do list, but some of those items require a helping hand -- and there isn't one handy, so I do what I can do and move what I cannot accomplish without help to the bottom of the list.
Re: George's wisdom, it's what I've heard for a lifetime, but the admonitions seem more relevant when there are fewer years ahead than there are behind. I've tacked them on to this posting in case you are the kind of person who needs the list to remind you how life is to be lived, rather than regretted when it comes to a close.
George Carlin's Views on Aging: HOW TO STAY YOUNG
1. Throw out non-essential numbers: this includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay 'them.'
2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.
3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. 'An idle mind is the devil's workshop,' and the devil's name is Alzheimer's.
4. Enjoy the simple things.
5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with you your entire life is yourself. Be ALIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.
8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county, or to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is.
10. Tell the people you love that you love them at every opportunity.
REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Prune?
Is it correct to use the word "prune" to describe removing every limb from a tree growing in the neighbor's yard, but hanging so far over my fence that it touched the ground? I'm 5'8" and stretched on tippy toes to clip all the smaller branches, then attacked the thicker limbs with a tree saw. The tree is now lopsided, but that can be remedied from the other side of the fence.
Needless to say, I can now see my entire fence, which means the neighbor can also clearly see all of my backyard, but so be it. There is a big pile of limbs that will be taken to the dump for disposal after my vacation as I'm not doing that unpleasant chore today or tomorrow.
George wasn't home when I attacked the tree, but he's a tenant, not the owner, and the property is up for sale, so I doubt he'll care that I "pruned" the very large tree that is also tangled in the overhead wires on the utility poles and scraping the top apartment in the 2-story complex.
If only I could climb . . .
Needless to say, I can now see my entire fence, which means the neighbor can also clearly see all of my backyard, but so be it. There is a big pile of limbs that will be taken to the dump for disposal after my vacation as I'm not doing that unpleasant chore today or tomorrow.
George wasn't home when I attacked the tree, but he's a tenant, not the owner, and the property is up for sale, so I doubt he'll care that I "pruned" the very large tree that is also tangled in the overhead wires on the utility poles and scraping the top apartment in the 2-story complex.
If only I could climb . . .
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Define "Hot"
It's cooling off at night, basically 30 degrees cooler than during the day; however, when it's 115-116 during the day, cooling off 30 degrees is still 85-86 at night.
The air conditioner is running day and night, although it's set at 85 degrees, which is pretty high for most desert dwellers, but feels quite nice when coming into the house from outside. The tile floors help the house stay cooler than it would be without the tile, and the ceiling fans run 24/7, which also helps keep the inside cooler. I shut the vents in the room I don't use, as well as both bathrooms. The new energy efficient window in the front of the house is helping, especially with the thermal drapes, as is the new slider on the patio, but ...
116 is just plain HOT, no matter how you define it. It's been this hot since the first of June, with little relief in sight this year.
While I was on my trip to Canada, my friend thought it was too warm in the house and turned the thermostat down to 80! I cringed when she told me that, knowing that her decision will cost me big bucks in the June electricity bill, but it was too late to do anything about it. She told me she turned it down for Mia, but I know she turned it down for herself, not the dog, because her house is an ice cave in summer and a steam bath in winter!
My past highest bills have been about $150 during the summer, but I'm betting on double that this year. I didn't turn on the AC until June, but it's been working over-time since then. Electricity is the costliest desert utility, probably because it is the one we need the most, and families that don't practice conservation often have electric bills hovering between $500-$750 dollars a month during the summer. People who live in the big houses with all the must-have amenities can write checks for a thousand dollars a month without even trying.
Perhaps the good news is that the AC heavy-use period is about 4 months and this too shall pass.
The air conditioner is running day and night, although it's set at 85 degrees, which is pretty high for most desert dwellers, but feels quite nice when coming into the house from outside. The tile floors help the house stay cooler than it would be without the tile, and the ceiling fans run 24/7, which also helps keep the inside cooler. I shut the vents in the room I don't use, as well as both bathrooms. The new energy efficient window in the front of the house is helping, especially with the thermal drapes, as is the new slider on the patio, but ...
116 is just plain HOT, no matter how you define it. It's been this hot since the first of June, with little relief in sight this year.
While I was on my trip to Canada, my friend thought it was too warm in the house and turned the thermostat down to 80! I cringed when she told me that, knowing that her decision will cost me big bucks in the June electricity bill, but it was too late to do anything about it. She told me she turned it down for Mia, but I know she turned it down for herself, not the dog, because her house is an ice cave in summer and a steam bath in winter!
My past highest bills have been about $150 during the summer, but I'm betting on double that this year. I didn't turn on the AC until June, but it's been working over-time since then. Electricity is the costliest desert utility, probably because it is the one we need the most, and families that don't practice conservation often have electric bills hovering between $500-$750 dollars a month during the summer. People who live in the big houses with all the must-have amenities can write checks for a thousand dollars a month without even trying.
Perhaps the good news is that the AC heavy-use period is about 4 months and this too shall pass.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Acting Chops
This morning’s news includes an article that claims Dennis Haysbert’s portrayal of the President of the United States may well have paved the way for a successful presidential bid by Barack Obama.
I don’t think so.
The military believes in what is called command presence, the aura of authority that comes naturally to some people, most especially Dennis Haysbert. No matter the role he has been given in films or television shows, Haysbert commands the screen. In 24, he is the President; in The Unit, he commands the unit of specialized service members who fight for truth, justice, and the American way; and in commercials for an insurance company, he assures us that we are in good hands with the people paying his salary. As an actor, he travels the world and asserts his authority wherever he is, in whatever role he has been given, because that is what he is paid to do.
But what amazes me more than the claim of paving the way to the [Obama] presidency is that anyone actually compares an actor’s role to the real world. Barack may also be black, but he’s no Dennis Haysbert. Haysbert earns darned good money portraying characters and reading lines written by professional script writers. The decisions he makes are part of the roles he plays. It ain’t for reals; it’s for the movies.
A president, however, must be believable without a script, without a controlled set, without a stuntman to do the hard work for them. Not only do I not believe that Obama is that good, but I also don’t believe that McCain is anywhere near the caliber of command presence that distinguishes the political leader of the free world. Many are called, but few are chosen to serve with distinction, and all we have to do is look at the decline into mediocrity that has marked our presidential process since World War II.
One of the hallmarks of good leadership is total commitment to one’s ability to perform the job: no explanation, no excuses, and no apology. A person who does what needs to be done when it must be done without regard to how it will play out in the press is the kind of person the office demands, but that person in today’s society is crucified by the press – and a president who plays to the press panders to the press. Right now, the power seat rests with the talking heads on the network shows, the pontificating pseudo-politicians who look good and dress well, who read scripted commentary and rant and rave about shoulda, woulda, coulda. They live vicariously through the power position of the instant news media – and create media politicians, such as Barack Obama, who also knows how to dress well, socialize, and stay on message, all that is required to be elevated to the national political anchor desk in the Oval Office.
Oprah Winfrey has made Barack Obama her media darling, her choice for politician of the month. She’s demanded that we all read him, as if he were a book chosen for her reading club, and that we use her study guide to discuss him as the heir apparent. She has an agenda, as do we all, and it is “this man, this time.” Anyone who does not come on board her Obama production risks being outed as a racist. The media backs her 100% because she is a proven political power: what Oprah wants, Oprah gets, and she has both the wealth and the connections to make it happen. She wants Obama; we get Obama. I doubt that anyone has the stones to challenge her choice for book of the month, much less President of the United States.
I would sooner vote for Oprah than I would vote for either McCain or Obama. She has command presence and uses it more effectively than any politician currently on the scene. If it were “this woman, this time,” I might be tempted to put both the first woman and the first black in the White House this November.
Dennis Haysbert is a great actor; Oprah is a great television host; Obama and McCain are unknown quantities who have neither the acting chops nor the script to support them in their bids to become President of the United States. In my world, we are left with no choice, not at this time and not with these candidates, and a foreseeable future that may well be better off with Dennis Haysbert reprising the role of President for the next four years.
I don’t think so.
The military believes in what is called command presence, the aura of authority that comes naturally to some people, most especially Dennis Haysbert. No matter the role he has been given in films or television shows, Haysbert commands the screen. In 24, he is the President; in The Unit, he commands the unit of specialized service members who fight for truth, justice, and the American way; and in commercials for an insurance company, he assures us that we are in good hands with the people paying his salary. As an actor, he travels the world and asserts his authority wherever he is, in whatever role he has been given, because that is what he is paid to do.
But what amazes me more than the claim of paving the way to the [Obama] presidency is that anyone actually compares an actor’s role to the real world. Barack may also be black, but he’s no Dennis Haysbert. Haysbert earns darned good money portraying characters and reading lines written by professional script writers. The decisions he makes are part of the roles he plays. It ain’t for reals; it’s for the movies.
A president, however, must be believable without a script, without a controlled set, without a stuntman to do the hard work for them. Not only do I not believe that Obama is that good, but I also don’t believe that McCain is anywhere near the caliber of command presence that distinguishes the political leader of the free world. Many are called, but few are chosen to serve with distinction, and all we have to do is look at the decline into mediocrity that has marked our presidential process since World War II.
One of the hallmarks of good leadership is total commitment to one’s ability to perform the job: no explanation, no excuses, and no apology. A person who does what needs to be done when it must be done without regard to how it will play out in the press is the kind of person the office demands, but that person in today’s society is crucified by the press – and a president who plays to the press panders to the press. Right now, the power seat rests with the talking heads on the network shows, the pontificating pseudo-politicians who look good and dress well, who read scripted commentary and rant and rave about shoulda, woulda, coulda. They live vicariously through the power position of the instant news media – and create media politicians, such as Barack Obama, who also knows how to dress well, socialize, and stay on message, all that is required to be elevated to the national political anchor desk in the Oval Office.
Oprah Winfrey has made Barack Obama her media darling, her choice for politician of the month. She’s demanded that we all read him, as if he were a book chosen for her reading club, and that we use her study guide to discuss him as the heir apparent. She has an agenda, as do we all, and it is “this man, this time.” Anyone who does not come on board her Obama production risks being outed as a racist. The media backs her 100% because she is a proven political power: what Oprah wants, Oprah gets, and she has both the wealth and the connections to make it happen. She wants Obama; we get Obama. I doubt that anyone has the stones to challenge her choice for book of the month, much less President of the United States.
I would sooner vote for Oprah than I would vote for either McCain or Obama. She has command presence and uses it more effectively than any politician currently on the scene. If it were “this woman, this time,” I might be tempted to put both the first woman and the first black in the White House this November.
Dennis Haysbert is a great actor; Oprah is a great television host; Obama and McCain are unknown quantities who have neither the acting chops nor the script to support them in their bids to become President of the United States. In my world, we are left with no choice, not at this time and not with these candidates, and a foreseeable future that may well be better off with Dennis Haysbert reprising the role of President for the next four years.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Sweat Equity
It was 100 degrees when I left the house at 9 am, and by the time I drove back into the garage at 2 pm, it was 112, too darned hot to do much of anything.
However, in the between, I was shopping, preparing for my official retirement trip, which begins Monday at 5 am when I report to the airport -- I hope. Still don't know if the flight has been cancelled or changed. I have now 6 pairs of new white 1/2 socks, a package of plastic ties to replace all those that have popped off the lattice hiding the dog run, some cheap towels to make quick covers for the chairs I bought for the paver patio, and, last but not least, 3 new patio chairs.
My life is a story, always a story, so here's the story of the new black chairs. I've been to K-Mart, Target, Wal-Mart (2 different stores), Lowe's, Big Lots, and Home Depot looking for wooden stools for the repurposed bed frame table. Nary a wooden stool in evidence, just the incredible teak chairs at both Lowe's and Home Depot, but much too expensive for my pitiful patio. Those of us of Scandinavian heritage are a determined lot (some people say "stubborn," but I think that's too harsh), and we don't give up once we make a decision or set a goal. The more challenging the decision or goal, the more determination seeps out of our pores.
On the way to meet a friend for lunch, I stopped by Linens 'n Things and, right outside the entry, were 3 wooden chairs marked "clearance." Ah ha, says I, and go into the store to ask if there are 4 chairs, my goal, whether they are natural wood or painted, and the sales price.
Answers: there are 3 chairs, they are black laquer finish, and they are dirt cheap: the big bar stool is under $30 and the smallest chair $20. "I'll take 'em," I told the cashier, who rang them up to a total purchase of $55 for all 3 chairs. He remarked that was certainly a good buy (the tallest bar stool was priced originally at $109.99, and the other 2 chairs at $79.99 each), so I guess it was the correct price (he scanned the bar code). I was thrilled.
Sure, they are 3 different sizes, from really tall to comfortably small, and I hadn't thought about black laquer for the table, but it's doable. I assembled all 3 chairs in about an hour, dripping sweat from every pore as I bolted the pieces together. The tallest bar stool is missing the 3 cross pieces that provide stability between the legs, which may be why it was so cheap, but I'll deal with that when I return from the trip.
I'll secure the dog run lattice with more plastic ties after the sun heads out west and then I may be finished for now. The little computer is up and running wirelessly, so that's ready to write the story of our trip. My bag is about half-way to packed, and it's not going to be really full, but my smaller bag is too small for 21 days' worth of whatever for the trip.
Okay, now what to do W-Th-F-S-S?????
UPDATE: the tall stool is way too tall, but since it was basically free, I'll see about cutting it down to size after I get back!
However, in the between, I was shopping, preparing for my official retirement trip, which begins Monday at 5 am when I report to the airport -- I hope. Still don't know if the flight has been cancelled or changed. I have now 6 pairs of new white 1/2 socks, a package of plastic ties to replace all those that have popped off the lattice hiding the dog run, some cheap towels to make quick covers for the chairs I bought for the paver patio, and, last but not least, 3 new patio chairs.
My life is a story, always a story, so here's the story of the new black chairs. I've been to K-Mart, Target, Wal-Mart (2 different stores), Lowe's, Big Lots, and Home Depot looking for wooden stools for the repurposed bed frame table. Nary a wooden stool in evidence, just the incredible teak chairs at both Lowe's and Home Depot, but much too expensive for my pitiful patio. Those of us of Scandinavian heritage are a determined lot (some people say "stubborn," but I think that's too harsh), and we don't give up once we make a decision or set a goal. The more challenging the decision or goal, the more determination seeps out of our pores.
On the way to meet a friend for lunch, I stopped by Linens 'n Things and, right outside the entry, were 3 wooden chairs marked "clearance." Ah ha, says I, and go into the store to ask if there are 4 chairs, my goal, whether they are natural wood or painted, and the sales price.
Answers: there are 3 chairs, they are black laquer finish, and they are dirt cheap: the big bar stool is under $30 and the smallest chair $20. "I'll take 'em," I told the cashier, who rang them up to a total purchase of $55 for all 3 chairs. He remarked that was certainly a good buy (the tallest bar stool was priced originally at $109.99, and the other 2 chairs at $79.99 each), so I guess it was the correct price (he scanned the bar code). I was thrilled.
Sure, they are 3 different sizes, from really tall to comfortably small, and I hadn't thought about black laquer for the table, but it's doable. I assembled all 3 chairs in about an hour, dripping sweat from every pore as I bolted the pieces together. The tallest bar stool is missing the 3 cross pieces that provide stability between the legs, which may be why it was so cheap, but I'll deal with that when I return from the trip.
I'll secure the dog run lattice with more plastic ties after the sun heads out west and then I may be finished for now. The little computer is up and running wirelessly, so that's ready to write the story of our trip. My bag is about half-way to packed, and it's not going to be really full, but my smaller bag is too small for 21 days' worth of whatever for the trip.
Okay, now what to do W-Th-F-S-S?????
UPDATE: the tall stool is way too tall, but since it was basically free, I'll see about cutting it down to size after I get back!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)