Sunday, August 31, 2008

Mr. Bluster starring John McCain

One of the greatest advantages of my new HD Sony Bravia 60 inch screen is it's unrelenting close up of peoples faces. I noticed it first on American Idol as it amused me to see how self conscious and uneasy Simon Cowell appears in contrast to the way I previously perceived him on my old large screen TV.

At the Democratic convention I could tell exactly when someone was reading the teleprompter. I tried to pick up on that during Obama's acceptance speech but could not. That in contrast to McCain looking down at his notes three times to introduce his VP pick. He even stopped to read her name from his cheat sheet.

His VP choice to uplift a female is contradicted by the crude joke he made about Chelsey, Hilary and Janet Reno before an audience of Republicans. It was considered too crude to print by most papers.

This decision reflects his alpha male need not to be upstaged by a more verile man standing beside him on the podium.

Now he has two past beauty contestants adoringly flanking him as he ineptly stumbles around his platform. What he is saying with this pick is "Come on you PUMAS here is an even younger person with a vagina that you can vote for in November".

He has underestimated the female brains ability to decipher issues from gender. Just one more nail in his out of touch coffin.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Torture the Idiotic Masses Manifesto

I wish it were mandatory to watch both political conventions like I do. Oh just maybe if I could tie a few resistant people up and tape their eyes open and make them sit in front of the television forcing them to listen to the inspiring words of Ted Kennedy or Michelle Obama this evening. But alas my little pipe dream is only the whimpering of a disappointed control freak. I can only hope that some voters wake up and realize how important this election on November 4th will be. If America hasn't yet learned it's lesson then I suppose John McCain will be elected. Four more painful years of greedy old men saying fuck you to progress and saving our ailing planet. If so, on the bright side, by next election water boarding will be legal and so widespread I can force people to do whatever I say. On second thought, no that won't help me feel any better either. I guess I'll just have to trust the universe and hope the outcome will be a reward not another 4 year sentence.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Head Noises

My need to post is waning or perhaps I have peaked in my manic faze. Summer sunlight can often put me on the ceiling, oh but what a ride for the adrenaline addicted souls of the world. The good news that coming back to earth brings is a softening of my heart. I see poignant beauty everywhere. Sappy as that sounds I am sure it is my sanity rebound.

Adding to my insanity is the back and front yard redo. It has been hard on my and Roger's nerve endings. The dust, mess, decisions, waiting, excruciating noises ( jack hammering of concrete, pounding of pavers and wet saw cutting) can drive one to drink although thankfully that hasn't happened. Any luck and the job will be completed by next week. Where is that rabbit's foot?

What has happened unfortunately is that my blood pressure has gone through the roof. Just another delightful aspect of growing old. I am trying to bring it down without meds. Not that I mind taking the poison that is prescribed for religious reasons. It is just those crappy side effects like having the energy and mobility of someone twice my age, inability to walk, severe leg pains and the new found need to diaper ones bottom. So I am using diet, exercise, bio feedback, meditation, prayer and wishful thinking instead. It is starting to work but I won't hold my breath, that will definitely make the numbers go up.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

The Origin of Naughtiness

The mildew smell is competing with a strange sewer gas odor, emanating from the scary drain on the floor of the cellar. I quietly creep down the crude, open, unpainted, wooden stairway.  I stand facing our old Westinghouse front-loading wash machine in our poorly lit basement.  The hot moisture from the heavy load of towels magically draws me closer.  I wait patiently in anticipation.  And then it happens.  The spin  cycle starts and this previously stationary appliance now wildly begins it's irresistible, gyrating, mating dance.  I press my pelvis into the front door and hold on for dear life.  Oh heavenly angels, what the heck is this wonderful feeling?  And just as violently as it began it is suddenly over.  I am not sure exactly what just happened, I am only six years old.  I only know for certain that I will return to celebrate this hypnotic ritual again tomorrow.

Monday, August 11, 2008

The Bratty Clock that Spat on Me

My daughter, at the young age of 41 is starting to notice how fast time is passing.

I have heard that the longer you live the smaller the percentage of your life each passing year becomes. That means the sand in my time line is poring out in chunks of granite.

When I hear of an event that happened two or more decades ago but it seems to be a brief few years, I turn to my husband and say "Wow, we'll be dead before you know it!"

That is what bites the big one about aging. It pisses me off that this wonderful exciting journey is headed back down the hill towards home. I don't want to go but perhaps as I shimmy up to that door I will have changed my mind and be ready to accept my long death nap.

And just what would the alternative be to time flies? Oh yeah, time stood still.

Beginnings and Endings

The subject of how I began is a daunting one.   I can no more imagine what is was like before my mother and father created  me in one of their many passionate escapades, than I can grasp the enormity of my passing. 
What will be the nothingness after my trip through the intense spiritual bright white light?  Will I be floating around causing havoc for those still living misguided beings not yet thumped on the head by the karmic Gods? 
Or worse still, will I discover that I should have been a religious fanatic after all, once I come face to face with Allah or Jesus or God of the Wiccan?   Should I regret not being Muslin or a Buddhist?  Perhaps if only I were Jewish or Mormon  or a devout Roman Catholic.  

What a jolt to my system if I suddenly reincarnate in the body of a frequently prodded cow or a wayward starving coyote. 

 It is way too mind boggling for a mere mortal with delusions of grandeur  and an unrelenting need to feel special to absorb.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Poker Night with the Girls.

As if you can call 60 year old broads, GIRLS! We meet once a month with our $20.00 contribution so one of us can go home with a little extra cash. We take turns at our respective homes. I am hosting tonight.

It is truly amazing how we all show up. What ever our personalities, they are always reflected in the way we gamble and bid and bluff. I like to go big, so I usually am one of the first to sit out. I am such a die hard optimist that I always think I am holding the winning hand. The glass is always half full so my demeanor is most often misguided.

I don't really mind losing, I just love to win so much that I can be quite obnoxious in my mini celebration of good fortune. It doesn't make me well liked but I can't seem to control myself. Hmm the exact same problem I have with chocolate. 

Speaking of chocolate, poker night is just not about cards. Tonight began with pulled pork sandwiches,  a few hands of confusing "Oh I didn't realize I had a straight" chatter during Texas Hold 'em, a delightful cheese cake break (4 choices) an intense playoff (I lost) followed by a hilarious  session on the Wii Fit and kisses and hugs goodbye.  

The real winning is in the love we have for one another. The stories we share about the most intimate or mundane things fill me up with gleeful, rejoicing gratitude.  I am blessed to have so many wonderful, admirable, genuine, vulnerable woman in my life.

I cannot wait till next month!!

By the way all you true poker snobs...if you are wondering why all the chips are jumbled,  it's because we have found that the "girls" are way too dingy to make change, it's all we can do to remember to burn a card before turning.  So to make our nights easier we decided to give all chips the same value.  Got to squander our precious gray matter.


Monday, August 4, 2008

Unexpected Paybacks Come In All Sizes

This evening my grandson had his sixth birthday at Peter Piper Pizza. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the festivities.  When the time came for the guest of honor to open his presents, I wondered why my daughter Christine was allowing young Nickie to open his gifts while some of the adults and all of the children were off in the arcade area.

The mystery was solved after I witnessed a series of comments Nick fired off during his much anticipated, rabid ripping open of presents and cards.

Only halfway through the gift bag full of art supplies from his other grandparents, he abruptly stopped, announcing, "next present."

When he opened a musical card with "who left the dogs out? woof, woof!" playing he quickly informed all in earshot "Ah, I like the robot one a lot better."

Disappointed to unwrap a toy he owned he announced loudly, " I already have this one." My daughter told him that was rude and discreetly whispered that they would find out what store it came from and exchange it. He started to rise eagerly stating, "I'll go ask him" as Christine was quickly yanking him back to his seat.

Then as he realized the gift credit card in another envelope was for a book store, he sighed in a sing song monotone, "boring."

I was tearfully laughing so hard by the time he finished this side splitting display of exuberant, unbridled honesty, I thought I would pee myself.

My daughter lamented, "Yeah, it's real funny unless you are the mother."

I reminded Chrissy how demanding she used to be as a small child, later when we were alone in the parking lot. She reassured me, "Don't worry Mom, I am getting paid back in spades."

Grandchildren make life so worth living!