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!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Leak in Review
I’ve heard people say the Internet is putting traditional brick-and-mortar stores out of business. They’re partly right, but there’s a certain local store that wouldn’t have gotten my business last weekend if it weren’t for the World Wide Web.
I had a plumbing problem that had started about a week before – a telltale dripping sound coming from the shower. You’ve heard of the 5 stages of grief? I went through the leaky shower equivalent: denial (earplugs), anger (“It’s getting worse!”), bargaining (“If this leak would just magically stop, I promise to clean the garage.”), depression (a bucket) and acceptance (“It’s not going away. Gotta do something!”).
The great thing about the Internet is that whatever your problem is, chances are someone else has experienced the same thing and has blogged, chatted or consulted someone else about it.
Sure enough, I Googled and found someone with the exact same leaky shower who’d posted the entire repair process in a handy sequence of pictures.
The folks at Home Depot were also helpful, and here’s where they’ve got the Internet beat. While I was there, I picked up a few other items that I’d been needing for a while, plus a few impulse buys (every home should have a giant economy-size roll of Day-Glo orange duct tape).
Back home, a few turns of the strap wrench, maybe a skinned knuckle or two and the shower was good as new. No Web site could have provided that same-day satisfaction!
A plumber would have cost a bundle, and nothing compares with the rewarding feeling of having done the job all by myself.
I’m not saying the Internet allows us to do away with repair crews across the board. I’ll call a professional every time for something major. But it sure was handy when this budget-minded gal needed little free advice. Best of all – that drip is history!
Playlist:
1. Drip, Drip, Drip — Spike Jones & His City Slickers
2. Bleep Blop Blues — Manhattan Transfer
3. Drip Drop — The Drifters
4. Who Can I Turn To — Sammy Davis Jr.
5. Every Picture Tells a Story — Rod Stewart
6. All I’ve Got to Do — The Beatles
7. Dirty Work — Steely Dan
8. My Way — Frank Sinatra
9. Even Flow — Pearl Jam
10. Silence Is Golden — The Tremeloes
I had a plumbing problem that had started about a week before – a telltale dripping sound coming from the shower. You’ve heard of the 5 stages of grief? I went through the leaky shower equivalent: denial (earplugs), anger (“It’s getting worse!”), bargaining (“If this leak would just magically stop, I promise to clean the garage.”), depression (a bucket) and acceptance (“It’s not going away. Gotta do something!”).
The great thing about the Internet is that whatever your problem is, chances are someone else has experienced the same thing and has blogged, chatted or consulted someone else about it.
Sure enough, I Googled and found someone with the exact same leaky shower who’d posted the entire repair process in a handy sequence of pictures.
The folks at Home Depot were also helpful, and here’s where they’ve got the Internet beat. While I was there, I picked up a few other items that I’d been needing for a while, plus a few impulse buys (every home should have a giant economy-size roll of Day-Glo orange duct tape).
Back home, a few turns of the strap wrench, maybe a skinned knuckle or two and the shower was good as new. No Web site could have provided that same-day satisfaction!
A plumber would have cost a bundle, and nothing compares with the rewarding feeling of having done the job all by myself.
I’m not saying the Internet allows us to do away with repair crews across the board. I’ll call a professional every time for something major. But it sure was handy when this budget-minded gal needed little free advice. Best of all – that drip is history!
Playlist:
1. Drip, Drip, Drip — Spike Jones & His City Slickers
2. Bleep Blop Blues — Manhattan Transfer
3. Drip Drop — The Drifters
4. Who Can I Turn To — Sammy Davis Jr.
5. Every Picture Tells a Story — Rod Stewart
6. All I’ve Got to Do — The Beatles
7. Dirty Work — Steely Dan
8. My Way — Frank Sinatra
9. Even Flow — Pearl Jam
10. Silence Is Golden — The Tremeloes
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Caffeine Queen
I have a love-hate relationship with caffeine.
I’ve been hooked on it ever since college. My caffeine delivery system of choice: coffee. From the muddy jolt of a deceptively tiny espresso to the frothy indulgence of a gi-normous iced cappuccino, coffee has been working its mood-altering magic on my sluggish bloodstream for more than 30 years.
Once back in the ’80s I consumed more caffeine than my heart could handle. I experienced premature ventricular contractions (PVCs). Not uncommon for women in their 20s, but at the time it scared the heck out of me. There’s nothing quite like waking up from a sound sleep to feel your heart pounding out a jerky, uneven beat like a bad Ricky Ricardo conga solo.
So I laid off the coffee for a while, but it wasn’t long before I had to answer the seductive, unrelenting call of the java.
It’s a fine line upon which I trod, this border between under- and over-caffeination. My morning allotment consists of careful calculations of “caf” and “decaf,” providing just the right chemical fix to clear away the morning cobwebs, yet not to cause jitters or irritability.
I don’t always get it right.
Many’s the morning I can feel myself crashing down off my coffee buzz. And there are times when I know that to keep a lurking tension headache at bay, I’ll need three times my usual dosage. But I’m a happy slave to that cup o’ joe!
I’m sure there are those who would point to my caffeine addiction as the root of many physical problems. They have every right to recommend healthier brews like herbal tea or other alternative boosters. But old habits die hard. Tell you what – let’s make a date to discuss the matter thoroughly at the nearest Starbucks.
Playlist:
1. Java Jive — Manhattan Transfer
2. Black Coffee in Bed — Squeeze
3. Cigarettes and Coffee — Otis Redding
4. The Coffee Song — Frank Sinatra
5. Heartstopper — Emiliana Torrini
6. Black Coffee — Julie London
7. Coffee and TV — Blur
8. Coffee Mug — Descendents
9. Coffee in the Pot — Supergrass
10. Can’t Break the Habit — Merle Haggard
I’ve been hooked on it ever since college. My caffeine delivery system of choice: coffee. From the muddy jolt of a deceptively tiny espresso to the frothy indulgence of a gi-normous iced cappuccino, coffee has been working its mood-altering magic on my sluggish bloodstream for more than 30 years.
Once back in the ’80s I consumed more caffeine than my heart could handle. I experienced premature ventricular contractions (PVCs). Not uncommon for women in their 20s, but at the time it scared the heck out of me. There’s nothing quite like waking up from a sound sleep to feel your heart pounding out a jerky, uneven beat like a bad Ricky Ricardo conga solo.
So I laid off the coffee for a while, but it wasn’t long before I had to answer the seductive, unrelenting call of the java.
It’s a fine line upon which I trod, this border between under- and over-caffeination. My morning allotment consists of careful calculations of “caf” and “decaf,” providing just the right chemical fix to clear away the morning cobwebs, yet not to cause jitters or irritability.
I don’t always get it right.
Many’s the morning I can feel myself crashing down off my coffee buzz. And there are times when I know that to keep a lurking tension headache at bay, I’ll need three times my usual dosage. But I’m a happy slave to that cup o’ joe!
I’m sure there are those who would point to my caffeine addiction as the root of many physical problems. They have every right to recommend healthier brews like herbal tea or other alternative boosters. But old habits die hard. Tell you what – let’s make a date to discuss the matter thoroughly at the nearest Starbucks.
Playlist:
1. Java Jive — Manhattan Transfer
2. Black Coffee in Bed — Squeeze
3. Cigarettes and Coffee — Otis Redding
4. The Coffee Song — Frank Sinatra
5. Heartstopper — Emiliana Torrini
6. Black Coffee — Julie London
7. Coffee and TV — Blur
8. Coffee Mug — Descendents
9. Coffee in the Pot — Supergrass
10. Can’t Break the Habit — Merle Haggard
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Gray Area
Do you have gray hair yet? Maybe just a little at the temples? The salt and pepper special? Or a full-on silver headful?
Some women with gray hair never do accept and embrace it. My dear departed mother was one of them. She dyed her hair various shades of red for decades, boasting that she’d be a by-God red-haired grandmother! Of course, that was back when a lot more women applied false eyelashes and enough hairspray to create a small hole in the ozone layer.
Folks are more apt to go natural nowadays, especially men. Guys seem to be able to pull it off at any age, like Taylor Hicks and John O’Hurley (J. Peterman on “Seinfeld”). It’s the “distinguished gentleman” look.
My hair started going gray (white, actually) when I was about 35. It changed quickly to form a trio of red, brown and white highlights that some think I paid a stylist to do. I assure them it’s all God’s handiwork.
Changing colors I don’t mind. It’s the changes in texture that bother me, the “sproingers” as I call them. I’ve tweezed out more of those kinky little stinkers than I can count!
But I’m not going to get into that “does she or doesn’t she” thing. I’ll wear my snowy head with pride! And if it’s a special occasion, I’ll put on a flattering outfit and maybe a little makeup, but that messy gooey dye – whether it’s in a pricey salon or all over the bathroom towels – no way!
Truth is, I just can’t be bothered. Life’s too short! I’d rather be enjoying myself, watching a movie or playing with the dog, who by the way also has white hair and is just as beautiful as ever, and loves me no matter what color my hair is.
Playlist:
1. Shades of Gray — The Monkees
2. Changes — David Bowie
3. Cover Up — Trapt
4. Cold Gray Light of Gone — Vince Gill
5. I Am What I Am — Gloria Gaynor
6. The Real Me — The Who
7. Gray — Frank Sinatra
8. The Beauty of Gray — Live
9. Don’t Look Back — Boston
10. What You Get Is What You See — Tina Turner
Some women with gray hair never do accept and embrace it. My dear departed mother was one of them. She dyed her hair various shades of red for decades, boasting that she’d be a by-God red-haired grandmother! Of course, that was back when a lot more women applied false eyelashes and enough hairspray to create a small hole in the ozone layer.
Folks are more apt to go natural nowadays, especially men. Guys seem to be able to pull it off at any age, like Taylor Hicks and John O’Hurley (J. Peterman on “Seinfeld”). It’s the “distinguished gentleman” look.
My hair started going gray (white, actually) when I was about 35. It changed quickly to form a trio of red, brown and white highlights that some think I paid a stylist to do. I assure them it’s all God’s handiwork.
Changing colors I don’t mind. It’s the changes in texture that bother me, the “sproingers” as I call them. I’ve tweezed out more of those kinky little stinkers than I can count!
But I’m not going to get into that “does she or doesn’t she” thing. I’ll wear my snowy head with pride! And if it’s a special occasion, I’ll put on a flattering outfit and maybe a little makeup, but that messy gooey dye – whether it’s in a pricey salon or all over the bathroom towels – no way!
Truth is, I just can’t be bothered. Life’s too short! I’d rather be enjoying myself, watching a movie or playing with the dog, who by the way also has white hair and is just as beautiful as ever, and loves me no matter what color my hair is.
Playlist:
1. Shades of Gray — The Monkees
2. Changes — David Bowie
3. Cover Up — Trapt
4. Cold Gray Light of Gone — Vince Gill
5. I Am What I Am — Gloria Gaynor
6. The Real Me — The Who
7. Gray — Frank Sinatra
8. The Beauty of Gray — Live
9. Don’t Look Back — Boston
10. What You Get Is What You See — Tina Turner
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Emily's Laws of Physics
Throughout our universe, many different physical laws of nature are constantly in play – some miraculous, some mundane. Here are just a few absolutes they never taught in science class:
Fido-Vector Paradox: If you own a dog, whatever path you take to get from one place in your house to another will invariably be impeded by this sprawling, slobbering road block of canine love. I think my dog studied with Euclid.
Heisenberg Soap Uncertainty Principle: This hypothesis states that you may be aware of the soap shrinking, but you can never be certain that it’s actually too small to use until you’re already in the shower, sopping wet.
Flatware Phenomenon: When searching the dish-drainer for a clean spoon, you will without fail choose someone else’s favorite out of the mass, requiring you to pick again. Someone in your family does have a favorite spoon, right?
Schrödinger’s Lawnmower: Is your lawn mower alive or dead? You’ll only know after you’ve generously applied sunscreen and bug spray and put on your gloves, hat and goggles. Never before that!
Seasonal Plumbing Certainty: The number of times it takes to remember to unhook the hose in the fall after shutting off the valve, thereby preventing next spring’s busted pipe and subsequent $75 plumber’s fee, is exactly three.
Freshness-to-Funk Causality Loop: No matter how much laundry you do, the hamper will always be full. In fact, you can actually use E=mc2 to prove that washing the clothes more and more frequently will eventually create a wormhole that sucks the clean clothes back into the hamper before they’re even worn again.
Ford/Fission Improbability Effect: This is the unlikelihood of someone new to the area walking up to you and asking, “Do you know where I can find a really good quantum mechanic?”
Playlist:
1. Across the Universe — The Beatles
2. Secret O’ Life — James Taylor
3. I Fought the Law — Green Day
4. Isn’t Life Strange — The Moody Blues
5. That’s the Way of the World — Earth, Wind & Fire
6. How Little We Know — Frank Sinatra
7. Black Hole Sun — Soundgarden
8. The Meaning of Life — Monty Python
9. This Must Be the Place — Talking Heads
10. I Know But I Don’t Know — Blondie
Fido-Vector Paradox: If you own a dog, whatever path you take to get from one place in your house to another will invariably be impeded by this sprawling, slobbering road block of canine love. I think my dog studied with Euclid.
Heisenberg Soap Uncertainty Principle: This hypothesis states that you may be aware of the soap shrinking, but you can never be certain that it’s actually too small to use until you’re already in the shower, sopping wet.
Flatware Phenomenon: When searching the dish-drainer for a clean spoon, you will without fail choose someone else’s favorite out of the mass, requiring you to pick again. Someone in your family does have a favorite spoon, right?
Schrödinger’s Lawnmower: Is your lawn mower alive or dead? You’ll only know after you’ve generously applied sunscreen and bug spray and put on your gloves, hat and goggles. Never before that!
Seasonal Plumbing Certainty: The number of times it takes to remember to unhook the hose in the fall after shutting off the valve, thereby preventing next spring’s busted pipe and subsequent $75 plumber’s fee, is exactly three.
Freshness-to-Funk Causality Loop: No matter how much laundry you do, the hamper will always be full. In fact, you can actually use E=mc2 to prove that washing the clothes more and more frequently will eventually create a wormhole that sucks the clean clothes back into the hamper before they’re even worn again.
Ford/Fission Improbability Effect: This is the unlikelihood of someone new to the area walking up to you and asking, “Do you know where I can find a really good quantum mechanic?”
Playlist:
1. Across the Universe — The Beatles
2. Secret O’ Life — James Taylor
3. I Fought the Law — Green Day
4. Isn’t Life Strange — The Moody Blues
5. That’s the Way of the World — Earth, Wind & Fire
6. How Little We Know — Frank Sinatra
7. Black Hole Sun — Soundgarden
8. The Meaning of Life — Monty Python
9. This Must Be the Place — Talking Heads
10. I Know But I Don’t Know — Blondie
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Driving Me Crazy
Why can’t everyone drive like me? Not to brag, but I’ve been at it for 32-plus years, and I’ve never had an accident.
My acceptance speech at the Oscars of Driving would start with: “I’d like to thank the members of the academy, my high school driver’s ed. teacher and all the terrible drivers who are constant reminders of how not to drive.”
You, too, can win:
* Be patient. Sounds easy, but it’s hard to drive slowly when you’re about to miss the cut-off time for Shoney’s breakfast bar. Yes, the biscuits are good, but speeding isn’t worth your life (or someone else’s).
* Margin of air. Always aim for a cushion of air between your car and any other vehicle. The more the better! I prefer to maintain the length of a football field all the way around. Add another 50 yards for drivers talking on their cell phones.
* Double exposure. Headlights and turn signals are your best defense against having your chrome crumpled or worse. Turn on those headlights as soon as the sun goes down, and whenever it’s raining. It’s not about you being able to see – it’s about others being able to see you. Same goes for using your turn signals. The sooner other drivers can tell where you’re going, the better they can avoid running into you.
Profound statement of the day: I don’t think most drivers think about driving while they’re driving. In fact, some don’t seem to be thinking at all. They don’t get that they’re piloting a potentially lethal 2-ton weapon on wheels.
If my luck holds out, no one will be confirming that theory for me any time soon.
Playlist:
1. She Drives Me Crazy — Fine Young Cannibals
2. Life Is A Highway — Tom Cochrane
3. Drive My Car — The Beatles
4. Damn This Traffic Jam — James Taylor
5. Stay Away — Nirvana
6. Driving My Life Away — Eddie Rabbitt
7. Drive — Joe 90
8. Nice ‘n’ Easy — Frank Sinatra
9. Driver 8 — R.E.M.
10. See Me, Feel Me — The Who
My acceptance speech at the Oscars of Driving would start with: “I’d like to thank the members of the academy, my high school driver’s ed. teacher and all the terrible drivers who are constant reminders of how not to drive.”
You, too, can win:
* Be patient. Sounds easy, but it’s hard to drive slowly when you’re about to miss the cut-off time for Shoney’s breakfast bar. Yes, the biscuits are good, but speeding isn’t worth your life (or someone else’s).
* Margin of air. Always aim for a cushion of air between your car and any other vehicle. The more the better! I prefer to maintain the length of a football field all the way around. Add another 50 yards for drivers talking on their cell phones.
* Double exposure. Headlights and turn signals are your best defense against having your chrome crumpled or worse. Turn on those headlights as soon as the sun goes down, and whenever it’s raining. It’s not about you being able to see – it’s about others being able to see you. Same goes for using your turn signals. The sooner other drivers can tell where you’re going, the better they can avoid running into you.
Profound statement of the day: I don’t think most drivers think about driving while they’re driving. In fact, some don’t seem to be thinking at all. They don’t get that they’re piloting a potentially lethal 2-ton weapon on wheels.
If my luck holds out, no one will be confirming that theory for me any time soon.
Playlist:
1. She Drives Me Crazy — Fine Young Cannibals
2. Life Is A Highway — Tom Cochrane
3. Drive My Car — The Beatles
4. Damn This Traffic Jam — James Taylor
5. Stay Away — Nirvana
6. Driving My Life Away — Eddie Rabbitt
7. Drive — Joe 90
8. Nice ‘n’ Easy — Frank Sinatra
9. Driver 8 — R.E.M.
10. See Me, Feel Me — The Who
Sunday, May 24, 2009
You Only Live Twice
Lately, I’ve been living twice: once during the day, and then again at night, when I should be sleeping.
I enjoy a daytime life with all the usual ups and downs. Then at about 4 a.m., I wake up, and my second life begins. My thoughts start to rev up, and it’s hard to gear them back down. If my brain were a car, I’d definitely say it’s idling high.
Most nights I replay a tape of the previous day, and when that one is over, I play one that rehearses how I’m going to do things the next day. Over and over, I find myself repeating and reviewing the minutiae of life, and before I know it, I have to get up and actually live it for real!
You’d think that all that thinking would benefit me somehow. But in truth, there are very few times that I get any real insights during this nighttime activity. I do get the realization that if it keeps up, I’ll need to start going to bed earlier to make up for lost sleep!
I guess that stress is at the root of all my mental meanderings. But I’m not going to wish for less stress! After all, my wish might come true, and then where would I be? Lonely? Jobless? No, better to try and find ways to cope with the life I have. After all, it ain’t all that bad, but I do only need one for now!
Playlist:
1. You Only Live Twice — Nancy Sinatra
2. It’s My Life — The Animals
3. Playground in My Mind — Clint Holmes
4. Too Much to Think About — The B52’s
5. Living In the Past — Jethro Tull
6. Do That To Me One More Time — The Captain and Tennile
7. Nothing New — Ashlee Simpson
8. What’ll I Do — Frank Sinatra
9. The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight — R.E.M.
10. Life During Wartime — Talking Heads
I enjoy a daytime life with all the usual ups and downs. Then at about 4 a.m., I wake up, and my second life begins. My thoughts start to rev up, and it’s hard to gear them back down. If my brain were a car, I’d definitely say it’s idling high.
Most nights I replay a tape of the previous day, and when that one is over, I play one that rehearses how I’m going to do things the next day. Over and over, I find myself repeating and reviewing the minutiae of life, and before I know it, I have to get up and actually live it for real!
You’d think that all that thinking would benefit me somehow. But in truth, there are very few times that I get any real insights during this nighttime activity. I do get the realization that if it keeps up, I’ll need to start going to bed earlier to make up for lost sleep!
I guess that stress is at the root of all my mental meanderings. But I’m not going to wish for less stress! After all, my wish might come true, and then where would I be? Lonely? Jobless? No, better to try and find ways to cope with the life I have. After all, it ain’t all that bad, but I do only need one for now!
Playlist:
1. You Only Live Twice — Nancy Sinatra
2. It’s My Life — The Animals
3. Playground in My Mind — Clint Holmes
4. Too Much to Think About — The B52’s
5. Living In the Past — Jethro Tull
6. Do That To Me One More Time — The Captain and Tennile
7. Nothing New — Ashlee Simpson
8. What’ll I Do — Frank Sinatra
9. The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight — R.E.M.
10. Life During Wartime — Talking Heads
Sunday, May 17, 2009
If You Need Me, I'll Call You
I hate cell phones. So pardon me if I’m cranky towards all the people walking around with them permanently attached to their heads. I just don’t get it!
Back when there were only “land lines,” my biggest headache was telemarketers calling me during dinner. When the answering machine was invented, I could avoid that nuisance by “letting the machine pick up.” All was right with the world.
Then came the cell phone. On my stress-buster list, No. 2 (after winning the lottery) would be throwing my cell phone off the nearest cliff. I only got it for emergencies. Yet somehow it’s become something I’m supposed to carry all the time. Remember being able to say “I’m on vacation. You won’t be able to reach me ’til the 10th?” Selective unavailability should be one of the hallmarks of a civilized culture.
I might sound like a crazy old lady, but I cherish my “me-time,” don’t you?
Just hearing everybody’s loud, silly ringtones is enough to drive you nuts. A friend tells me that mine is a manic little version of Chopin’s “Etude in Gb Major, Opus 10, No. 5.” Sort of sounds like a toy piano on speed. How, she wonders, would Chopin feel about that? Is he spinning around in his grave, his restless spirit urging me to put my cell on vibrate?
And while we’re at it, I wonder how Mr. Beethoven would feel knowing that one of his greatest symphonies is now known to most as the theme to “Judge Judy.” But I digress. …
You know what happens when you opt not to answer your cell phone. The caller leaves a voicemail message, and once the little box starts beeping and flashing, I dare the strongest of you not to grab the darn thing and start punching in your access code. We can’t resist the temptation to hear what’s on there! We’re slaves to this tiny rectangular ball-and-chain. And we get charged extra for retrieving messages. As I listen to the relentlessly perky instructions of the voicemail monitor in the sky, I’m thinking, “why am I doing this?”
A different awful: the person who doesn’t answer their cell phone when you call. This results in your having to leave a detailed message, only to have the person call you back within seconds of your hanging up. Again, the cell phone companies seem to be the only winners here.
From what I can see, cell phones are looking less like communication and more like a drug.
Why does everyone seem to have this insatiable need to be constantly connected to someone else? Could it be that they are stuck in a habit of nonawareness, unable to see or experience the world firsthand? Apparently we can’t just sit and enjoy a peaceful sunny afternoon under a tree. We need to check in with work. We need to describe the tree to our Facebook friends. We need to make sure someone else does something as promised. Anything but being in the here and now. I’d hate to think that people have decided to save time by just discarding that concept altogether.
Maybe if we all weren’t so busy calling each other, we could really keep in touch – with reality, that is.
Playlist:
1. Don’t Call Us - We’ll Call You — Sugarloaf
2. How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away — Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks
3. Ring-A-Ding Ding — Frank Sinatra
4. Call and Answer —Barenaked Ladies
5. Hanging on the Telephone — Blondie
6. Quiet Nights — Diana Krall
7. No Phone — Cake
8. Little Red Light — Fountains of Wayne
9. Telephone Line — ELO
10. Call Me — Al Green
Back when there were only “land lines,” my biggest headache was telemarketers calling me during dinner. When the answering machine was invented, I could avoid that nuisance by “letting the machine pick up.” All was right with the world.
Then came the cell phone. On my stress-buster list, No. 2 (after winning the lottery) would be throwing my cell phone off the nearest cliff. I only got it for emergencies. Yet somehow it’s become something I’m supposed to carry all the time. Remember being able to say “I’m on vacation. You won’t be able to reach me ’til the 10th?” Selective unavailability should be one of the hallmarks of a civilized culture.
I might sound like a crazy old lady, but I cherish my “me-time,” don’t you?
Just hearing everybody’s loud, silly ringtones is enough to drive you nuts. A friend tells me that mine is a manic little version of Chopin’s “Etude in Gb Major, Opus 10, No. 5.” Sort of sounds like a toy piano on speed. How, she wonders, would Chopin feel about that? Is he spinning around in his grave, his restless spirit urging me to put my cell on vibrate?
And while we’re at it, I wonder how Mr. Beethoven would feel knowing that one of his greatest symphonies is now known to most as the theme to “Judge Judy.” But I digress. …
You know what happens when you opt not to answer your cell phone. The caller leaves a voicemail message, and once the little box starts beeping and flashing, I dare the strongest of you not to grab the darn thing and start punching in your access code. We can’t resist the temptation to hear what’s on there! We’re slaves to this tiny rectangular ball-and-chain. And we get charged extra for retrieving messages. As I listen to the relentlessly perky instructions of the voicemail monitor in the sky, I’m thinking, “why am I doing this?”
A different awful: the person who doesn’t answer their cell phone when you call. This results in your having to leave a detailed message, only to have the person call you back within seconds of your hanging up. Again, the cell phone companies seem to be the only winners here.
From what I can see, cell phones are looking less like communication and more like a drug.
Why does everyone seem to have this insatiable need to be constantly connected to someone else? Could it be that they are stuck in a habit of nonawareness, unable to see or experience the world firsthand? Apparently we can’t just sit and enjoy a peaceful sunny afternoon under a tree. We need to check in with work. We need to describe the tree to our Facebook friends. We need to make sure someone else does something as promised. Anything but being in the here and now. I’d hate to think that people have decided to save time by just discarding that concept altogether.
Maybe if we all weren’t so busy calling each other, we could really keep in touch – with reality, that is.
Playlist:
1. Don’t Call Us - We’ll Call You — Sugarloaf
2. How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away — Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks
3. Ring-A-Ding Ding — Frank Sinatra
4. Call and Answer —Barenaked Ladies
5. Hanging on the Telephone — Blondie
6. Quiet Nights — Diana Krall
7. No Phone — Cake
8. Little Red Light — Fountains of Wayne
9. Telephone Line — ELO
10. Call Me — Al Green
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Calling All Smarties
Are you one of those people who can spot a real bargain? Do you prefer preowned cars? Maybe to save money you clip coupons, go to matinees or drink wine by the box.
Have I got a deal for you!
Are you ready? My hot tip takes just two words: give blood. You’re probably saying to yourself, “How can a phrase containing the word ‘give’ possibly mean anything but coming away with less than you had before? How can I come out ahead in this?”
It’s like a pot-luck. You bring a bag of potato chips to the family reunion. For that tiny investment, you can eat barbecue, slaw and, most importantly, chocolate cake!
Giving blood is like that. You get your donation back 10 times over. Here’s how it works.
You go down to the Medic office. For most Knox Countians, that’s a drive of a half-hour or less. Then you answer some medical questions, sit back and relax for about 10 minutes. You leave with a T-shirt, beverage and snack, and the warm feeling you get knowing you made a life-saving donation to the area’s vital blood supply. Most people think that’s all there is to it, but they’re leaving out the best part!
Now, I realize that the above scenario omitted a significant technicality. You have to part with a pint of yourself. I understand the uneasy feeling you get thinking of the process itself. Yes, needles, arm soreness and queasiness all come to mind when people think of excuses not to give blood.
But I think mostly folks think it’s just one more annoying thing to remember to do on top of everything else. So I’m here to tell you, the payoff is so worth it!
What You Really Get
OK, let’s talk about the barbecue, slaw and cake.
This is such a steal I don’t know why the workers at Medic aren’t constantly inundated with people. For that one pint of blood you donate, you get free blood for a year. Let me repeat that. Free blood for a year! How amazing is that? You could crash your car next month, end up in the hospital and need 10 pints just the first day! And blood’s not cheap – we’re talking hundreds of dollars here, and most insurance companies don’t pay for it. No worries if you’ve given blood at Medic and have that sweet year-long “insurance policy.” It works at any hospital in the country, too.
Side note: the government says you can’t charge money for blood products, so technically we’re talking about the cost of the fees that go into safely processing that pint you donated. But you get the idea.
And now, back to the infomercial. “Call now. But wait, there’s more!” That deal’s not only for you, but also for your dependents. You heard right. Countless grateful parents throughout East Tennessee have protected their families by donating blood themselves. There’s even a program covering everyone in your business if you can get just 30 percent of your fellow-employees to pony up some of that liquid gold. Talk about bang for the buck!
So don’t worry if being magnanimous isn’t your bag. Think of giving blood more as, well, all about you! For the deal of a lifetime, get yourself on down to Medic or talk to your group leader or boss about a mobile drive. Tell them I sent you!
Medic Regional Blood Center can be reached at 865-524-3074.
Playlist:
1. My Way of Giving — Rod Stewart
2. With Arms Wide Open — Creed
3. Gimme Some Lovin’ — Spencer Davis Group
4. Give It Away — George Strait
5. Giving You the Best That I Got — Anita Baker
6. Man With the Golden Arm — Billy May
7. You Can Have It — Ike & Tina Turner
8. These Arms of Mine — Otis Redding
9. What Do I Get? — The Buzzcocks
10. It’s All About Me — Bratz Soundtrack
Have I got a deal for you!
Are you ready? My hot tip takes just two words: give blood. You’re probably saying to yourself, “How can a phrase containing the word ‘give’ possibly mean anything but coming away with less than you had before? How can I come out ahead in this?”
It’s like a pot-luck. You bring a bag of potato chips to the family reunion. For that tiny investment, you can eat barbecue, slaw and, most importantly, chocolate cake!
Giving blood is like that. You get your donation back 10 times over. Here’s how it works.
You go down to the Medic office. For most Knox Countians, that’s a drive of a half-hour or less. Then you answer some medical questions, sit back and relax for about 10 minutes. You leave with a T-shirt, beverage and snack, and the warm feeling you get knowing you made a life-saving donation to the area’s vital blood supply. Most people think that’s all there is to it, but they’re leaving out the best part!
Now, I realize that the above scenario omitted a significant technicality. You have to part with a pint of yourself. I understand the uneasy feeling you get thinking of the process itself. Yes, needles, arm soreness and queasiness all come to mind when people think of excuses not to give blood.
But I think mostly folks think it’s just one more annoying thing to remember to do on top of everything else. So I’m here to tell you, the payoff is so worth it!
What You Really Get
OK, let’s talk about the barbecue, slaw and cake.
This is such a steal I don’t know why the workers at Medic aren’t constantly inundated with people. For that one pint of blood you donate, you get free blood for a year. Let me repeat that. Free blood for a year! How amazing is that? You could crash your car next month, end up in the hospital and need 10 pints just the first day! And blood’s not cheap – we’re talking hundreds of dollars here, and most insurance companies don’t pay for it. No worries if you’ve given blood at Medic and have that sweet year-long “insurance policy.” It works at any hospital in the country, too.
Side note: the government says you can’t charge money for blood products, so technically we’re talking about the cost of the fees that go into safely processing that pint you donated. But you get the idea.
And now, back to the infomercial. “Call now. But wait, there’s more!” That deal’s not only for you, but also for your dependents. You heard right. Countless grateful parents throughout East Tennessee have protected their families by donating blood themselves. There’s even a program covering everyone in your business if you can get just 30 percent of your fellow-employees to pony up some of that liquid gold. Talk about bang for the buck!
So don’t worry if being magnanimous isn’t your bag. Think of giving blood more as, well, all about you! For the deal of a lifetime, get yourself on down to Medic or talk to your group leader or boss about a mobile drive. Tell them I sent you!
Medic Regional Blood Center can be reached at 865-524-3074.
Playlist:
1. My Way of Giving — Rod Stewart
2. With Arms Wide Open — Creed
3. Gimme Some Lovin’ — Spencer Davis Group
4. Give It Away — George Strait
5. Giving You the Best That I Got — Anita Baker
6. Man With the Golden Arm — Billy May
7. You Can Have It — Ike & Tina Turner
8. These Arms of Mine — Otis Redding
9. What Do I Get? — The Buzzcocks
10. It’s All About Me — Bratz Soundtrack
