Taxing Information

Today is a special day for most Americans. It is not a national holiday. Most of us do not know someone who has a birthday today. Today is the deadline for employers to give out W-2 forms. Without these forms, we cannot file our tax returns. We all have the same reaction to the W-2. You get it and can't wait to rip it open. We all love the surprise of seeing how much we actually earned last year. Or did not earn. We focus on the large number, that shows our wages and gloss over the other lines that show who else was a partner in our paycheck. We do not actually know where our money is going. We understand the Medicare deduction and we understand the Social Security deduction. Then comes the grey area of Federal Tax deduction. Somehow, a large sum is deducted and we do not know exactly where it goes. It reminds me of the word "stuff". The federal deduction pays for all of the other "stuff" that our country buys. I think that after all of the hard work we put in, America needs to itemize where our money goes.

Do Over

The other day, a good friend asked me the following question. "If you had the chance, would you want to be five years old again and live life from this day on"? I immediately answered "No". I like where I am in life but there is no way that I would want to start life again in the year 2012. The follow up question was, "If you had to pick a year to be five years old, and live life, what year would it be?" Now, that was a tougher question. After a bit of thinking and calculating, I chose 1945. Here is my rationale for this answer. I would have been born in 1940 and therefore not aware of the hardships of WWII. I would have been a teenager in the mid 1950's. Life was more innocent then. I could have had burgers and shakes at the local hangout. Girls looked like girls. People respected each other. You could walk in the streets and be safe. Dinner was a nightly family event. Mom's stayed at home. Even though I would be sacrificing some of today's conveniences, I think it would be worth it. I would gladly trade an hour of computer time, if it meant that hour would be spent conversing with my children. I would give up fast food dinner for home cooked ones. Video games vs. stoop ball. Simple life. How nice would that be.

Semantics

I love it when people use code words, to describe unpleasant events, to make them look better. This week, a famous Hollywood actress was admitted into the hospital for "exhaustion". Hollywood replaces the phrase "drug use" with the word "exhaustion". The only people that actually suffer from exhaustion, are the ones that do not have time to rest, due to their responsibilities. Today, I am exhausted. I got up early, did errands, went food shopping, made lunch, painted a room, did laundry, paid bills, and it is only 4pm. Six hours to go before bed. By then I will have added making dinner, washing dishes and possibly a second laundry load. I did not have time for a manicure, pedicure, spa treatment, celebrity party and possibly, horseback riding. If actress are exhausted, I should be comatose. Lets call it what it is. Overindulgence, in a privileged lifestyle, where my weekly paycheck is the price of one of their pocketbooks.

Shame On You

Yesterday, someone tried to scam my parents. Although they are old chronologically, they are young  mentally and did not fall for it. Even though they knew things did not add up, they were still quite upset. Here is what happened.... They receive a telephone call saying that their grandson "X" was in a car accident. He was not badly hurt, but he hit the car of  Spanish Diplomat and therefore was going to jail. The man on the phone then puts "X" on the line, and he says, "Grandpa, I am not hurt, but they gave me some medication to calm down, so I sound a little drugged. Please send money to the lawyer to get me out of jail on bond". The "lawyer" then gets back on the phone and says that "X" will be taken to the jail and will remain there for 10 days, among unsavory (yes, he said unsavory) people, unless my parents send $1995 via Western Union. My father says to them "this doesn't sound right, so I am going to check it out" and hangs up. Now, they call "X", but he doesn't answer his cell. It goes directly to voice mail. They then call his house, and he answers. They are now relieved. While they are talking to him, the other people call back. They ask if the Western Union account was opened yet, as "X" was now downstairs in a cell. My father says, "that's funny, I am talking to him now, and he is listening to this conversation". They hang up the line. How horrible of these people to try to extort money from the elderly, by using fear of a loved one being harmed. I am a believer in Karma, so I do not wish bad things on them. The bad things will come naturally and when they do, it will be well deserved.

Full Disclosure?

This week, our Repulican Presidential candidate, was asked to disclose his income tax returns. After much debate about when he would disclose them, he was backed into a corner and had to do it this week. If he waited, things would look suspicious. He decided to only disclose 2010 and an estimate for 2011. My only problem with that, is that in 2010, he knew he would be running for election. I could only think, that if someone is going to run for president, they would be extra careful about their tax return. Prior to 2010, it is anyone's guess, if the returns would look the same as they did in 2010. Now, the plot thickens. It seems that he omitted funds from investment accounts and.....his Swiss bank account. Yes, the American candidate seems to have deposited funds into a Swiss account. How much money do you need to hide, in order to make it worthwhile, to open a Swiss bank account? One thousand, one hundred thousand or maybe one million or more. I can guarantee, that the amount he has hidden, exceeds my total financial worth. I still stand by my belief, that a middle class person needs to run the country. We know the reality of life, in America.

The Pad

I am not the type of person who falls asleep easily. I always envied the people that say that they fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow. It usually takes me anywhere from a half hour to an hour to go to sleep. One of the reasons, is that my mind is still racing, while my body is trying to rest. During that time, I think and think, about what happened that day and what will happen the next. Many times, I get ideas for this blog. The idea comes into my head and the story forms. I lay there and tell myself that when I get up, I will remember it. Too bad, that most times I do not. The next day, I try to concentrate on bringing back the stories that I had floating in my  head, all night. Most times, I cannot. I once heard, that comedians think of their best jokes, while trying to fall asleep. Since they also had trouble remembering them in the morning, they put a pad and pen, next them, on the nightstand. Tonight, I will try that and hope that in the morning I did not write gibberish.

One For The Team

I was driving home from work today and as usual, I passed the high school. I saw the football team practicing. They were jumping around, pushing and shoving each other and looked like they were having a lot of fun. On the opposite end of the field were the cheerleaders. They were tumbling and doing stunts. They looked so pretty in their uniforms with their hair tied up, in perfect ponytails. I started to think... which do they enjoy more, playing the game or being part of the team? I really think it is being part of the team. Human nature tells us that people need to be included. You can always toss around a ball or tumble in a gym but doing it alone without the camaraderie of a group, lacks something. We all want to be a part of the group. That is where the fun is.

National Security

I heard something on the news yesterday, that astounded me. Senator Rand Paul, the son of Presidential candidate Ron Paul, was detained at the airport for being uncooperative with the TSA. It seems that when he was walking through the security scanner, an alarm went off. No different than what happened to me, in December. Usual protocol is to step aside and be patted down. I had no problem with this. He did. I felt that as a security measure, for all of the other travelers, I needed to be rechecked. I would expect the same thing to happen to others, when the alarm rings. This is what security means. The Senator thought different. Instead of just spending 3 minutes being checked, he decided to fight the issue and miss his flight. In the end, he was rechecked and scanned with a different type of machine. The astounding part, aside from the Senators irrational behavior, was his father's reaction to it. He said that security checks at the airport were tantamount to living in a police state. He also felt that the TSA should be disbanded. Is he for real? Has he forgotten 9/11? This is one person who I would not want running my country. It would be chaos and insanity.

Superbowl

Last night, the New England Patriots and the New York Giants both made the Superbowl. I have ties to both teams, as my sons each live in one of the teams states. No matter which teams wins, I will be happy, because at least one of my sons will be happy. There is an old saying that "you are only as happy, as your least happy child". I totally agree. I felt bad for the kicker of the Baltimore team, as he must have felt so upset, when he missed the kick. The reality is, that if his team had been stronger, it would not have come down to just his kick. That is why they call it a team, and not a solo act. In any sport, one team wins and one team loses. If you cannot accept the losses, you should not be in it for the wins. One thing that I did find distracting, in both games, were some of the players hair. I know that people have the right to wear any style they wish, but the men with the long braided ponytails, is a distraction. Just like in any other job, there should be a standard look. As each man ran down the playing field, with his ponytail swaying in the breeze, I could only imagine that next year, they will be wearing a dress and high heels, to match. When a football player has longer hair than I do, something is amiss.

Snow

After many years, I finally realized that I like snow, but I hate ice. Yesterday, was the first substantial snow storm this year. Last year, at this time, we already had 31 inches. It was horrible. It was also depressing. We all tunneled out passageways into and out of our driveways. They were so high that they looked like igloos. The ice was so treacherous, that people could barely go to work. I remember watching a bus go up the hill, sideways, in front of my office. I had no idea that a bus could go sideways. Neither did the bus driver. So far, this years, we are luckier. Yesterdays snowfall was only about 3 inches. The forecast for this week is a warm one, so the snow will melt away. I can deal with looking out into my backyard and seeing a beautiful white covered lawn, as long as I know it is very temporary.

The Value Of Time

No one values of other peoples' time. Especially doctors. Right now I am livid. A 2:30pm eye doctors appointment is now over 2 hours late. Why does a fifteen minute appointment need to be two hours late. In my world 2:30 means 2:30. Not 4:30. Why do we put up with such nonsense? If I am late to the train, it pulls away without me. If I am late to a show, the show goes on. Where else can a person book 6 people within one hour, allotting a half hour for each? That means cramming 3 hours of time into 1 hour. No matter how you cut it, it won't fit. It is like putting toothpaste back into the tube. It gets ugly. We need to revolt and make a stand. We need to dock the doctor. That's right, dock the doctor. Minus $1 per minute for each minute we are made to wait. If it goes over 60, he will owe us $1 per minute. This will be called the "reverse dockage". I know this sounds irrational, but maybe that's what is needed. The same idea should apply to the phone company and furniture delivery trucks.

When Worlds Collide

The other day I heard someone talking about their worlds colliding. It took a few minutes to realize what they were talking about. They were referring to what happens, when one group of your friends meets another group of your friends. Most of the time, no good can come from it. That is why it is best to separate your circle of friends. Keep them in the dark about each other. Many years ago, my worlds collided. At the time, I did not know there was a terminology for it. I had one good friend, who was new to the neighborhood. She did not know a lot of people so I decided to be nice and include her in a "girls night out" dinner. I remember it, as if it was yesterday. We went to a Spanish restaurant. I had the shrimps with green sauce.  I was so happy that my new friend got along so well with my old friends. Little did I know what would happen. A few weeks later, my new friend and one of the old friends, introduced their husbands and a tight friendship was formed. They began to go out for dinners....without asking me. I didn't really care that much, but I know I never would have done that to her. I always think about the other person's feelings. Well, now it is twenty years later and I do not even know if they are still friends. It really doesn't matter. Since then I have been careful to avoid having my worlds collide.

Back To Reality

I am back from Florida and I am returning to work this morning. The flight home was a weird one. First, they changed the gate and decided not to tell anyone. When I went to the restroom, I noticed that the sign board said  the flight to Santa Domingo was on time. That's funny. The last time I looked it said that the flight to NY was on time. I asked the man behind the counter what was going on and he said "Oops, I forgot to make the announcement that there was a gate change". We all go to the correct gate and are informed that the television and music system of the aircraft were broken. Sorry. Now, I am thinking that I hope the radar isn't broken too. The man ahead of me decided to argue with the flight attendants about the snacks that were being served. The flight was turbulent and this morning, every bone in my body hurts. That has no bearing on the fact that I have still have to go to work today. I can only hope that there were no big problems while I was away. I will find out soon. At least I am off tomorrow. Then I can get back to my old routine.

Say My Name

Today is my last day in Florida. Yesterday, I went to the cemetery, to visit my in-laws. I do this every year. This was the first year I did not get lost going there. It is located on a Dead End street. No pun intended. When I arrive at the mausoleum, I stand under their grave placards and tell them what has been happening all year. I update them on their grandchildren and the world in general.When I am through, I tell them that I will be back next year to see them. Then, I start to exit the cemetery. That is when I start my goodbye ritual. It is a small cemetery and only has enough room for about 150 graves.  I go up and down the rows and say each name out loud. I stand at each grave for a moment and see how many family members are together and how old they were when they passed away. I believe that if I say their names, they know that they are being remembered. Once I have said my respects to all of them, I pick up a rock and place it on a random grave. In my religion, it shows that they have had a visitor. When I exit the cemetery, I have tears in my eyes. Tears for the deceased and tears for the families that loved them.

"D" Day

Today is "D" day. Twenty eight years ago, today, my younger son was born. It was on a Tuesday, just like today. In those days, you did not have a choice whether or not to know the sex of the baby. You just waited till you saw the lower half come out. He was a beautiful, healthy boy. He still is. He has all of the qualities you would want a son to have. He is honest. He is a hard worker. He is smart. He is loyal. He is loving. I see a lot of me, in him. The good and the bad. He is headstrong and will stand his ground, until the end. Sometimes when we butt heads, it is a contest of the wills, as to who will give in first. So far we are at 50/50. Today is not only his birthday. It is also his six month wedding anniversary. The six months flew by, even faster than the 28 years. Since I am still away, I will not be able to give him his birthday hug or his gift. Truth be told, he probably wants his gift, more that his hug, so I left it for him, before I went away. I wish you a lifetime of health and happiness, "D". You surely deserve it.

The Friendly Cookie

On Friday, in Key West, I passed a bakery. The smell from the freshly baked goods was unbelievable. I went in, to look at what they were selling. In the showcase were a few types of big cookies. One half pound cookies. They had chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin and peanut butter. Even though they were five dollars each, I bought one. Normally, I would never spend $5 on one cookie. It just looked too good to pass up. I took the big cookie and sat at a table eating it. A few minutes later, a couple walked in, and went to the cookie counter. I saw them discussing the cookies and talking with the salesgirl. They started to walk out without buying the cookies. As they passed me, the woman said, "I hope that the cookie tastes as good as it looks". I replied that it did. She then said "All I wanted was a small taste, so I didn't want to spend $5. I told her that the cookies was far too big for me to eat it all, and I would love to give her a piece. She hesitated for a moment and looked at her husband, then said "Oh, I couldn't do that". I said to please take some, as it was really big and I would just be taking it home. She looked at her husband and gave me a little girl smile, and took the piece of the cookie. She kept thanking me. I was glad to share it. After a few more bites, I put the big cookie (now the 1/2 big cookie) into a bag and took it home. Saturday morning, me and the big cookie traveled 200 miles to my parents house. On Sunday morning, I went to a nearby Flea Market, just to browse. I took the big cookie with me, for a snack. After about an hour, my feet got tired, so I sat on a bench and began to break off pieces of my big cookie. Sitting next to me, was an elderly woman. She looked over at me and said "Can I buy a small piece of your cookie"? I said that she couldn't buy it, but I would be glad to give it. So, I broke off a small piece of the dwindling cookie. She looked so happy as she ate it. She turned to me and said "Never in my life, have I asked anyone for a bite of their food. I can't believe I just did that'" I said that this cookie has made three people happy so far, and she made my day, by asking for a bite. I still have a small piece of the big cookie left, and I hate to eat it. It was the friendliest cookie I ever had and don't want it to end.

Broadway Lullaby

I arrived at my parent's condominium yesterday. I seem to have brought the cold, New York weather with me. Living in a Florida condominium community, is like living in no other place in the world. It is comprised of people who are mostly over 70 years old. They have worked for most of their lives and feel that they have earned the right to have the day run their way. With this, they have brought with them a very humorous way of living. I am a voyeur, when I am here. I silently watch what goes on and laugh to myself. Take last night for example. It started off at the diner. The food is good and plentiful and the prices are reasonable. The only thing wrong, is the nasty hostess. The people tell the hostess their name and she puts it on the list.She then gives then a nasty look and tells them to go outside and wait. As they walk outside to wait their turn, each person passes me by and says "what a bitch". We eat our meal and head on to the theater. We then wait to park, as the cars ahead of us slowly empty out their passengers. I mean slowly. Half of them stop getting out of the car and start to talk to each other. They do not care that they are clogging traffic. Let them wait. We enter the lobby and all of the people are talking about last night's show. Depending on who you were talking to, the comedian was either hilarious or terrible. The theater doors open and everyone finds their seats, but no one sits down. They scan the theater to see who is also there. Their necks are like owls, literally turning 360 degrees. Then I hear the "roll call".  "There's Fred". "Where"? "There". "Where"? "Next to Norma". "Oh, now I see him". 'There's Lenny"? "Where"? "There." "Who is he with"? "I can't see". "Why is Judy sitting in the front"? "How did she get those seats"? The lights dim, and the announcer comes out. "Welcome to the world famous Palace Theater". The lady behind me shouts out "cut the shit about the world famous theater." Her husband says "shhh" and the man next to him says "the announcer is new." His wife replies "he is not new, he just lost weight." The show starts, and it was very entertaining. I even ignored the wrong words to the songs. I was probably the only one that heard, "Give my regards to Broadway. Remember me to HArold square." So, Herald was now Harold. No one noticed but me. After the show, back out int the lobby, the people gave their reviews. "I loved it". "I hated it." "The costumes were beautiful." "The costumes were gaudy." I just stood there and smiled. I was there with my 88 year old parents. I could have been watching an egg fry and be happy.

Park or Ship

Sometimes, when we decided to do an activity, or make a purchase, the agreed upon price looks great. That is, until you get to the bottom line. Usually the bottom line includes either parking or shipping. When you are in a resort town, many times there is not easy street parking. You are forced to put the car into a parking lot. The lot owners know this and some of them take advantage. Yesterday I saw fees as high as $48. That is more than Manhattan. Well, there is no way that I am paying that. I drove around until I found the price I wanted, $10 for the day. If I am persistent, I usually find what I want. The next type of fee I hate to pay is for shipping. If I buy and item for $4, why would I pay $7.95 to ship it. I know that the postage is only about $2 and how hard could it be to "handle" this small item? I handle things every day and never came across one item that was so big that I needed to be paid, to handle it. If the item I want does not come with a shipping price I like, I cancel the transaction. I hate to pay for extra things that are not tangible.

Tourists Have Brains

Until tomorrow, I will be in Key West. It is a resort town with a main shopping street. Last night, I was walking on the main street, looking at the stores and wandering in some of the more interesting ones. Some of the stores carried items that are sold for much less,where I live. As I was browsing, a sales person came up to me. He was trying to talk me into buying the items. I politely said no. He kept insisting. I kept saying no, politely. As I tried to walk away, he followed me, still insisting that his price was the  lowest. I am not a rude person, and never turn my back and just leave. I know this is his job, but sometimes you have to know when enough is enough. Finally, in one store, the man was unrelenting. I had to say that I could buy the item he was selling, in this case perfume, for less, at home. He told me if I could get it for less, I was buying counterfeits. I asked him why he would think that. He said that "you tourist never know what you are buying". That is when I was forced to put on my "Nasty Shoes". I told him, in no uncertain terms,what I felt about his sales skills, and that by this conversation, alone, I am getting the feeling that he is the dishonest one. I saw him get agitated, which, sorry to say, was my intention. I am on vacation, just let me shop pleasantly.

Bentleys' Mom

I arrived in Florida yesterday. As usual, I arrived at the airport early. I was sitting across from a young woman , with a silver tote bag. I realized that it was a dog carrier, when I saw the air vents. I started to talk to her and she was very responsive. We exchanged stories about our puppies, going into details about everything from birth to the present. Her puppy's name was Snickers. He was a tiny Maltese. Then she told me that this was her second time as a "mom". Her first "child" Bentley was run over by a car. Even though I love Shelby, I do not consider him my child. He is my dog. I know I said how hard it is to leave him, but I still live in the reality, that he is an animal, albeit a very cute one. This girl was about 24 years old. After the "mom" comment I started to pay a bit more attention to her demeanor. Something was off. She took out her boarding pass and asked what seat I was in, because she hoped we were next to each other. We were 12 rows away. I do not think I could have spent 3 more hours with Bentleys' mom.

The People At Home

Today, I am going to Florida, again. It will be the second of three trips this winter. While I love going to see my parents, I cannot help missing the people that stay behind. I still call home daily, to see what is going on. Just because I am not there, does not mean I am not there, in spirit. The only one that I cannot contact is Shelby. He is on his own vacation, at the vet. This time he will have a haircut, so he will be very handsome when I pick him up. I cannot believe how heart wrenching it is to say goodbye to him, when I drop him off. Even though he is staying at the vet that we have used for many years, and we know all of the assistants, I still feel like I am abandoning him. I must sound nutty when I ask them to hug and kiss him a few times a day. They say this is normal. If I could dress him up in baby clothes and smuggle him onto the plane, I would. If anyone questioned me, I could say that my "baby" has a hormone problem and that is why he is so hairy.

Good Morning

To me, the term "Good Morning", has two meanings. The first one is the standard greeting that you give to people you see that day. The second is the definition of what a "good morning" means to me. In my world, I have a certain criteria that defines a good morning. It starts off with still liking the outfit that I laid out the night before. It moves on to having my puppy, Shelby, do everything he needed to do, when I walked him. Next, if I put in my contact lenses, without having a stray piece of dust, annoyingly cling on to them, it is a bonus. Lastly, at the end of my morning routine, if my eyeliner goes on the same width on both eyes, wow. As far as I am concerned, all of my planets are now aligned. It is a "Good Morning".

Push My Button

Over the weekend, I visited the new "Racino" that opened up near my house. It took a few years to build, but I never knew about it, until after it opened. I guess no one made a big deal about it. A "Racino" is a combination of Casino and Racetrack. I am not a gambler, so I just went to see what it was all about. The building was beautiful. All lit up with a grand entrance. When I walked in, the sound of the gaming machines filled the air. I walked around and saw hundreds of people on line, waiting for the buffet. Hundreds more were waiting to sign up for a casino membership card. This Racino, like the others in New York State, only has slot machines. Table games are not legal, unless they are run by the Indian Tribes. I decided to be bold and play $5 on the slot machine. In a matter of 5  minutes, I lost it all. Since I had another 55 minutes until I was to meet my family, I wandered around, observing. The room looked like it was filled with a bunch of mindless robots, sitting in front of a colorfully lit box, pressing a button, repeatedly. It was not like in the old days, when you put in coins and pulled a metal arm. They kept pushing buttons, until all of their money was gone. What was the sense of it? We all know that the casino wins. That's where they get the money to pay the electric company, for all of the lights. When it was time to leave, we waited for the elevator to take us back to the parking garage. When the doors opened and the people emerged, ready to go lose their money, my sister said, "stay in the elevator, it costs less".

Tools and Shoes

There is a book titled "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus". It is about the differences between the two sexes. We think differently. It is just biological. It is very apparent in our shopping preferences. Home Depot is to a man, what a shoe store is to a woman. We love the smell of leather. They love the smell of wood and rubber. Put a man in Home Depot and it is like a kid in a candy store. Since my son started working on his house, I have a new vocabulary. I now know what the work torque means. I can define reciprocal, in tool terms.  I know that there are two kinds of routers. One for wood and one for computers. Just as women are never too thrilled to wander around the lumber aisles of Home Depot, men are not to thrilled to wander around the aisles of a shoe store. I guess it goes back to the cave man days. Humans are just hard wired differently.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

I hate mean spirited people. In real life or on television. One television show that irritates me, is the Millionaire Matchmaker. The show stars a 50 year old woman who is a matchmaker for millionaires. The only thing that strikes me as being odd, is that this wonderful matchmaker has never been married. Why couldn't she make her own match. Even setting aside that issue, there is a more important one. She interviews men and women to see if they will be potential matches for her clients. As she interviews them, she berates them. Their hair is too long, their teeth are crooked, they are over weight, etc, etc. In the next scene, she tells a man that he is too picky and will never find love, if he scrutinizes every woman he meets. She needs to replay the video and listen to what she says. I ask myself if this woman has a mirror in her own home. Her hair is horrible and her make up is garish. What does she see in others, that she cannot see in herself. Charity and self help starts at home.

What's In Your Wallet?

I always love buying a new wallet. It is like having a fresh start. As soon as I buy it, I cannot wait to go home and fill it up. I take out my old wallet and empty it out on the bed. Now comes the decision making part of this procedure. What stays and what goes. As I rifle through each piece of saved paper, I wonder why I saved it. Why was this particular paper so important. Sometimes I find phone numbers and I have no idea who they are for. I look at the pictures I have and update with newer ones. I cannot believe how fast my children have grown. I check the coupons I have saved, for expiration dates and see that some of them expired years ago. How did they hide from me for so long? Then, I find a piece of paper that I had been hunting for and really needed at the time. I put everything in order and feel cleansed. Ready to start filling up the new one.

The Vehicle

For over twenty five years, I have been playing Mah Jongg, with a group of 4 women. When the game began, we had toddlers. Now, some of our children have toddlers. The menu has stayed the same for all these years. Chips, pretzels, m&m's, dip, veggies and seltzer. The only time I ever drink seltzer, is at Mah Jonng. I do not know why this is the preferred drink, as it was decided upon without me. We would never change it, because it just seems right. To us, this is more than a game. It is really a discussion group. If you need any advice, of any nature, bring the question to the Mah Jonng table. By the time you leave, the problem is solved, with sensible advice and warm concern. To be honest, we are still using the playing card from 2007. We do not pay that much attention to the rules, anyway. Our Mah Jonng game is not about playing. It is about relationships. The tiles are just the vehicle. They are the tiny bricks that have built a foundation for long lasting friendships.

Mind Over Bladder

In the nighttime game of Mind Over Bladder, the score is always the same. Mind 0, Bladder 1 or 2 or 3. We all have those nights when we awaken from a deep sleep and feel the need to visit the bathroom. The only thing that holds us back, is that we are so warm and comfortable under our covers, that we really do not want to move. That's when the game begins. We ask our mind to fight our bladder. We roll over, we try to go back into the previous dream, we curl up into a fetal position. We soon realize that our mind is no match for our mighty bladder. After about 15 minutes, we acknowledge that we have lost the game and are forced to get up and take the long journey to the bathroom. Once we are actually up, it isn't so bad. Even though, for some of us, this is a nightly event, we still need to play out the game, until there is a clear winner. Too bad the winner is always the same team.

The New Car

When I see new car commercials, I laugh. It reminds me of how times have changed from the 1950's, when a new car was a huge thing. There were only a few makes of cars in those days. Pontiac, Oldsmobile and Chevrolet were the big three. I remember cars that had the option of air conditioning for only a few hundred dollars more. Most people did not want to make that type of investment for a few summer months. They chose to stick to the burning hot car seat. When you brought a new car home, it was a neighborhood event. Everyone came out to stand in your driveway and look over the shiny purchase. The hood was popped open and the men gazed in to check out the motor. You felt like a celebrity for the day. Now, new cars are nothing special. We can buy them or lease them and replaced them every few years. Even the commercials are not the same. Fully equipped has changed to nicely equipped. The price of a car is now the price of a house in the 1970's. How the world has changed.

A Heartfelt Gift

Almost ten years ago, my son bought me the most beautiful birthday gift. It was a 14k gold, puffy heart. He went, alone, to the jewelry store, and picked it out. Just for me. I attached it onto a gold bracelet and piece by piece created a wonderful charm bracelet. You could always hear me coming, from the clinking sound of the charms. One day, I looked down, and saw that the charm was missing. My heart sank. I combed the entire house for it. It was not there. I looked outside. Still gone. It must have fallen off while I was out somewhere. I removed the bracelet and put it away. It meant nothing now, without the puffy heart. I never told him that it was gone. Each year when he gave me another thoughtful birthday gift, I would be a bit sad. I felt guilty that I did not take good enough care of the puffy heart. Last week, as I was lying in bed, I said to myself, the only gift I ever want again, is to get back my puffy heart.This year, I opened up my birthday gift from him and my daughter-in-law, a few days after my birthday. I had noticed that she was wearing a stunning Swarovski crystal puffy heart, that he had bought her for Christmas. After I opened a few great gifts, I came to the small box. When I unwrapped the paper, I saw the unmistakeable swan logo. I slowly opened the small box, and there it was. A red crystal puffy heart with a mini crystal butterfly, hanging from a black rope chain. I got exactly what I wished for, in a slightly different form. I put it around my neck, and that is where it will remain. I keep telling him how much I love it, and he doesn't know why. My heart is no longer broken.

2012

Happy New Year. 2012. I can't believe it. Where has the time gone? I remember being in junior high school, in 1969, reading the book "1984". That seemed like a lifetime away. Now it is history. I remember when we all anticipated the year 2000. Y2K. We all feared that the banks would close down and that all of our records would be deleted. We were told to stockpile food, have cash on hand and have copies of all important documents. That all seems so foolish now. As the years go on, everything changes and yet everything stays the same. We all ring in the new year with high hopes. People make resolutions that never come to fruition. We will still live our lives going two steps forward and one step back. No matter what the new year brings, human nature never changes. The most we can ask for, is for people to try their best to make 2012 better than 2011.