I think my age has caught up with my intellect. More frequently than ever, I find myself walking into a room and suddenly thinking to myself, “now why did I come in here?”
You’ve heard of putting a string around your finger to help you remember something? Once I did that and couldn’t for the life of me remember why that string was there!
I’m constantly writing myself little notes; otherwise I lose stuff amongst the crowded cobwebs of my multitasking mind.
They say that self-imposed cerebral challenges help you keep your mental edge. My favorite brain-power booster is the New York Times crossword puzzle. I subscribe online and print out a bunch at one time so I can use any down-time to stretch my synapses with a verbal workout.
For the uninitiated, each day of the week features a slightly more difficult crossword puzzle. Monday’s is fairly easy.
Saturday’s is for brainiacs. Sunday’s has about the same degree of difficulty as a Thursday, only it’s bigger.
I don’t think I’ve finished more than a half-dozen or so Wednesday puzzles. But that doesn’t mean I stop trying!
And delving into the etymology of those unfamiliar words and phrases can be a great history lesson. And talk about puns! Some puzzles are chock-full of brilliantly constructed witticisms. My neurons are firing faster just thinking about them.
There are tricks to improving your solutions. By doing the crosswords regularly, I’ve gotten to know the most often-used letters and the arcane words they form.
Words unique to crossword puzzles are interesting to know, but they don’t help much in social situations. In my experience, the word “apse” has never come up in conversation. And when was the last time you heard the name Theda Bara mentioned outside of a crossword puzzle? Or Pola Negri? Or Mel Ott?
No, crosswords definitely won’t get me any dates. They’re solitary exercises between me and my own gray matter, which I can hopefully keep in better shape as a result.
Now, if I could just remember where I put that folder full of puzzles!
Playlist:
1. Crossword Puzzle — Sly & The Family Stone
2. Words — Bee Gees
3. The Letter — Joe Cocker
4. Saturday’s Child — The Monkees
5. Sunday Morning — The Velvet Underground
6. My Friend, the Dictionary — The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
7. Crossword Puzzle — Roberta Alexander
8. Play The Game — Queen
9. The Word — The Beatles
10. Remember — Billie Holiday
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Chagrin and Bear It
I whine about minor physical ailments, but basically I’m an able-bodied person. It’s been decades since I’ve had to go to the emergency room. Maybe that’s why it’s hard for me to sympathize with folks who haven’t been so lucky.
To wit: on a typical trip to Target, there will be a woman in front of me who’s moving annoyingly slowly. I mean I could get from car seat covers all the way to the jewelry department in the time it takes her to go 10 feet down the aisle. Why, oh why won’t she get out of my way?!
My answer? Let me just say that God can get your attention in some wonderfully unexpected ways.
Just last weekend The Big Guy handed me a big ol’ heaping helping of humble pie in the form of a sprained ankle.
I had reserved last Saturday to paint the ceiling of my back porch – no small task with its sloping roofline and exposed joists. I’d bought all the supplies and moved all the furniture and just needed to go fetch the ladder. My right ankle went in one direction while my foot went in another. Needless to say, all of me went downward shortly thereafter!
I didn’t break anything that afternoon, but this week I’ve gained a modicum of sympathy for folks who need a little more time in getting around. For all I know, they’re in some kind of pain. And be it physical, mental or emotional pain, they deserve the same patience and respect I hope would be afforded me as I hobble around on my twisted ankle.
To my neighbor who loaned me a pair of crutches: thank you. To the gentleman who held the door open for me at the post office: thank you. To the slow-moving woman at Target: I’m sorry for whizzing by you without regard to your situation.
And to the kid who practically knocked me over trying to rush into the bank yesterday – where’s the fire, sonny?!
Playlist:
1. Knock on Wood — Eddie Floyd
2. You Never Know — Goldfrapp
3. Catch Me Now I’m Falling — The Kinks
4. Ouch! — The Rutles
5. Help Me — Joni Mitchell
6. Instant Karma — John Lennon
7. Walking in Your Footsteps — The Police
8. This One’s Gonna Hurt You — Marty Stuart & Travis Tritt
9. Walk Through This World With Me — George Jones
10. Get On The Good Foot — James Brown
To wit: on a typical trip to Target, there will be a woman in front of me who’s moving annoyingly slowly. I mean I could get from car seat covers all the way to the jewelry department in the time it takes her to go 10 feet down the aisle. Why, oh why won’t she get out of my way?!
My answer? Let me just say that God can get your attention in some wonderfully unexpected ways.
Just last weekend The Big Guy handed me a big ol’ heaping helping of humble pie in the form of a sprained ankle.
I had reserved last Saturday to paint the ceiling of my back porch – no small task with its sloping roofline and exposed joists. I’d bought all the supplies and moved all the furniture and just needed to go fetch the ladder. My right ankle went in one direction while my foot went in another. Needless to say, all of me went downward shortly thereafter!
I didn’t break anything that afternoon, but this week I’ve gained a modicum of sympathy for folks who need a little more time in getting around. For all I know, they’re in some kind of pain. And be it physical, mental or emotional pain, they deserve the same patience and respect I hope would be afforded me as I hobble around on my twisted ankle.
To my neighbor who loaned me a pair of crutches: thank you. To the gentleman who held the door open for me at the post office: thank you. To the slow-moving woman at Target: I’m sorry for whizzing by you without regard to your situation.
And to the kid who practically knocked me over trying to rush into the bank yesterday – where’s the fire, sonny?!
Playlist:
1. Knock on Wood — Eddie Floyd
2. You Never Know — Goldfrapp
3. Catch Me Now I’m Falling — The Kinks
4. Ouch! — The Rutles
5. Help Me — Joni Mitchell
6. Instant Karma — John Lennon
7. Walking in Your Footsteps — The Police
8. This One’s Gonna Hurt You — Marty Stuart & Travis Tritt
9. Walk Through This World With Me — George Jones
10. Get On The Good Foot — James Brown
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Staycation Decadence
My Fourth of July celebration this year was all about treating myself like a rock star. By my standards, it was a wild weekend full of excess and indulgence.
How very American!
It began on Saturday with early check-in at a downtown hotel. By 12:15, some pals and I were headed to the pool with our Starbucks iced cappuccinos. Nothing short of pure extravagance must have taken complete hold of me as I grabbed not one but two big hotel beach towels on the way to a comfy chaise-lounge.
That afternoon, we splashed around like fools. Waves of tension slipped away as I paddled around in my own little clear blue slice of heaven.
I may not have looked very stylish as I first walked into the hotel with my plastic grocery bags, but my entourage and I sure enjoyed our “poor-man’s room-service” of festive food as we got ready for the KSO concert and fireworks show. Call me a rube, but there’s something about being in a nicely appointed hotel room that elevates the mundane to the spectacular. Just crank the AC and languish under a long, hot shower. Never mind the KUB bill! Add food that I wouldn’t ordinarily buy and, well, it’s not just key lime pie – it’s a vacation!
The hedonism continued down at the festival as we wandered and people-watched. I forked over $6 for a big juicy cheeseburger. Worth every penny.
We were back in the suite just as the fireworks started. We drew open the curtains and gazed happily at the pyrotechnics while feasting on fresh fruit, brie, Pepperidge Farm cookies and the knowledge of how very fortunate we were to be Americans.
Up in Washington, our legislators are doing their best to untangle old messes. In brutal faraway lands, our valiant soldiers are fighting hard in the name of democracy. And here in Knoxville, my friends and I relaxed in the lap of luxury.
Plenty of food and fun, and the time to enjoy it without fear. We are very fortunate indeed.
Playlist:
1. My Lost Weekend — Martin Newell
2. 4th of July — Shooter Jennings
3. Soak up the Sun — Sheryl Crow
4. So You Want to Be a Rock and Roll Star — The Byrds
5. Rip It Up — Little Richard
6. This Place Hotel — Michael Jackson
7. Rock ’n’ Roll Lifestyle — Cake
8. Good Day Sunshine — The Beatles
9. Holiday — Green Day
10. Fortunate Son — Creedence Clearwater Revival
How very American!
It began on Saturday with early check-in at a downtown hotel. By 12:15, some pals and I were headed to the pool with our Starbucks iced cappuccinos. Nothing short of pure extravagance must have taken complete hold of me as I grabbed not one but two big hotel beach towels on the way to a comfy chaise-lounge.
That afternoon, we splashed around like fools. Waves of tension slipped away as I paddled around in my own little clear blue slice of heaven.
I may not have looked very stylish as I first walked into the hotel with my plastic grocery bags, but my entourage and I sure enjoyed our “poor-man’s room-service” of festive food as we got ready for the KSO concert and fireworks show. Call me a rube, but there’s something about being in a nicely appointed hotel room that elevates the mundane to the spectacular. Just crank the AC and languish under a long, hot shower. Never mind the KUB bill! Add food that I wouldn’t ordinarily buy and, well, it’s not just key lime pie – it’s a vacation!
The hedonism continued down at the festival as we wandered and people-watched. I forked over $6 for a big juicy cheeseburger. Worth every penny.
We were back in the suite just as the fireworks started. We drew open the curtains and gazed happily at the pyrotechnics while feasting on fresh fruit, brie, Pepperidge Farm cookies and the knowledge of how very fortunate we were to be Americans.
Up in Washington, our legislators are doing their best to untangle old messes. In brutal faraway lands, our valiant soldiers are fighting hard in the name of democracy. And here in Knoxville, my friends and I relaxed in the lap of luxury.
Plenty of food and fun, and the time to enjoy it without fear. We are very fortunate indeed.
Playlist:
1. My Lost Weekend — Martin Newell
2. 4th of July — Shooter Jennings
3. Soak up the Sun — Sheryl Crow
4. So You Want to Be a Rock and Roll Star — The Byrds
5. Rip It Up — Little Richard
6. This Place Hotel — Michael Jackson
7. Rock ’n’ Roll Lifestyle — Cake
8. Good Day Sunshine — The Beatles
9. Holiday — Green Day
10. Fortunate Son — Creedence Clearwater Revival
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Hiatus
Call it luck. Call it an embarrassment of riches (i.e. a late-breaking, super-sized story of such hard-hitting newsworthiness that my services were not needed).
Or I could just explain that...
Due to the vagaries of print journalism, I didn't write a column for the Shopper-News this week. Details on the Stay-cation next Sunday.
I hope your Fourth was as happily eventful as mine!
Or I could just explain that...
Due to the vagaries of print journalism, I didn't write a column for the Shopper-News this week. Details on the Stay-cation next Sunday.
I hope your Fourth was as happily eventful as mine!
