The Limerick

By definition, a limerick is a nonsense poem in a rhythmic pattern. There is an old joke, that a limerick will float around in your head, until you tell it to someone else. Then it becomes their problem. This happened to me the other day. Not with a limerick, but with a song. While driving to work, I heard an old song on the radio. I had not heard it in years. I never even liked it, when it was new. I heard the song and it embedded itself into my subconscious mind.It silently played on my way to work. It played throughout the work day. It played while making dinner. Most annoying of all, it continued playing as I was trying to go to sleep. This went on for days. Yesterday, I realized that the song had left. Finally. I drove to work, listening to my favorite radio station, and as I pulled into my parking spot, it happened. The song began to play on the radio. It is now happily floating in my head again. Maybe it will act like a limerick and leave my head when I pass it on to someone else. "That's the night that the lights went out in Georgia. That's the night when they hung an innocent man. Don't trust your soul to no backstreet Southern lawyer. Cause the judge in the town got blood stains on his hands..........."

If It Isn't Broken

There is an expression that says "if it isn't broken, don't fix it". I came across a perfect example of that, this week. A few high schools in my county offer Continuing Education courses for adults. These courses have been ongoing for about forty years and have had a wonderful turnout. Last September, the "powers that be" decided to go green. Instead of sending out the course catalog via mail, they sent out a postcard instead. The postcard said to go online to read the entire course guide. The sign up form could be printed from that site. Well, you guessed it. No one signed up for any courses. The reason must have been that the target audience is not comprised of people who find it easy to navigate the web. When the paper catalog arrived in the mail, they would look over it a few times, and pull out the registration form. Since it is online, it is more difficult to scroll the descriptions and even harder to find the correct page to print the application. Most senior citizens do not know how to download a PDF file. The administration would not acknowledge that they made an error and sent out the postcards again this Spring. Again, no one signed up. The trips that used to be waiting list only were now cancelled. It is sad to see this program falter. Maybe this Fall someone will go back to the old fashioned way. Sometimes progress just slows down the works.

A Colorful Day

I was in The Home Depot, the other day and wound up in the paint aisle. I was toying with the idea of freshening up the paint in one of my bedrooms. I was thinking of blue walls and a white ceiling. I walked over to the paint chip display and realized that this was going to be a bit more complicated than I originally thought. I pulled out a few of the white swatch cards. There was"Navajo white, China white, brilliant white, bright white, summer white and cool white", just to name a few. I moved over to the blue swatches and found "crystal blue, sea blue, Cape Cod blue, sky blue", etc, etc. It was the same for all of the seven colors of the rainbow. There were 76 shades of white and 83 shades of blue. That was in only one brand of paint. The store had three different brands. After stepping a few paces away from the colors, I saw the texture choices, There was "stone, stucco, sand and marbleized". Wait, now I come to the finishes. Flat, semi-gloss, gloss and egg shell. Who needed so many choices? I wanted blue and white. By the time I left the store, my head hurt and I was empty handed. Maybe the room didn't really need a fresh coat of paint, after all.

It's The Nooks

This morning, I felt lazy and did not go about my usual routine. By now (9AM), I am out of the house and starting my day, even though it is Sunday. I am an early bird but I am also an early bedtime person. In changing my routine, I also decided to change my usual breakfast. Every morning, I eat yogurt, blueberries, raspberries and granola. Sometimes, at night, I can't wait to get up and have breakfast, because it is so delicious. But today, I am breaking all of the rules. I made a toasted Thomas' English Muffin. I have been told by many people that there are big differences between brands of English Muffins. I hate to admit it, but they are right. No other brand compares to Thomas'. They advertise that the "Nooks and Crannies" make the difference. I have no idea which is the nook and which is the crannie, but I loved them both. Sometimes, a change in routine, is not that bad.

Not My Job

Last week we bought a new television. It was a large set and had to be delivered. When we purchased it, the salesman told us that upon delivery, the men would take it out of the box, set it up and make sure that the television worked, before they left. The set was delivered at the promised time, but the delivery men just brought it into the room, placed the box down and left. While they were walking out, my son said "Aren't you supposed to set it up"? One man said, "I could help you open the box, but I won't set it up", as the other man ran back to sit in the truck. It was a "dump and run" kind of delivery. We called the store and asked for a manager, just to verify what we thought was the proper procedure should have been. He concurred that the set should have been set up. He checked the delivery log and said that these guys were so lazy, they never even entered that the delivery took place. Keeping the log is part of their job. The manager was very apologetic and offered us a gift card, since we were now the ones to do the installation. With the unemployment rate being at it's highest, you would think that people would work just a bit harder, to make sure that they were not the next, one standing on the unemployment line.

Happy Birthday Sis

Today is my sister's birthday. We like to joke that we are "twins separated at birth". I just came out of the womb 22 months later. My sister is my best friend. Not many people can say that. In all of our years together, we have never had a fight, nor said a bad word to each other. She always has my back and will put me before herself, in any situation. She still goes to grab my hand when we cross the street, to make sure I will be safe. She has a magnetic personality. Wherever she goes, whether it is on a trip or in the food store, she makes friends. She still corresponds with people she met years ago. I am the opposite. I am shy and never seek out new people. Besides having opposite temperaments, we look different. She has black straight hair and hazel eyes, while I have curly blond hair and blue eyes. The one thing we have in common is a great love for one another. She is my sister by birth but my best friend by choice. Happy Birthday F..L..

The Long Commute

When I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror, my hair looked great. That is because I am going for a haircut later this afternoon. I have been going to the same hairdresser for 25 years. She originally owned the shop and then the aggravation of being the owner, was not worth it. She sold the business but remained on, as only a hairstylist. She married a career Navy man and due to his work, she had to move 400 miles away. She felt so loyal to her established customers, that she promised to come back and style their hair. It is over six years and she has kept that promise. One week a month, she either drives or flies the 400 miles, to cut hair. She has never missed a month. These are not expensive haircuts. The price just rose to $12, so we understand that she is not doing this for the money. With the price of gas, or the plane ticket, there is not much of a profit margin. She does it because she loves her work and she is loyal to her customers. She is a rarity, in this day and age.

Wait For The Other Guy

Every day, I go to work and do my morning "check". It seems that after I leave for the day, no one replaces anything. No toilet paper, no hand towels, not even paper for the copy machine. It is not as if I don't put the refills in plain sight. It is just that everyone thinks "the other guy" will replace it. I was made more aware of this the other day, when I was reading a website. It was an informational site that I had been on before, so I knew the options. When I went onto it this time, the scroll option was not working. I could not navigate from page to page. I didn't pay too much attention, as sometimes things go wrong on these sites and get quickly get fixed. Not this time. I looked at the site for two days and I still could not navigate it. I went to the contact us page and wrote to the head of the technology department. I got an immediate answer, that the tool that is used for navigating the site was broken, but they did not know it. Within a few hours, I got an email saying that things were up and running again and a thank you for alerting them to the problem. I guess that even in large companies, people still wait for "the other guy".

Weather or Not

Is it really February 21? It seems like Spring. Believe me, I am not complaining. Quite the contrary. I am thankful. After the snow storms of last winter, a reprieve is only fair. Last year at this time, I felt like I was living in Alaska. The front of my house looked like an ice tunnel. Parking was at a premium. This year, every morning, I look outside at my thermometer, which hangs on a tree in my yard, and cannot believe what it says. I have become a big fan of the weather channel and chart the upcoming week. As far as I can see, we will have Spring like weather until at least March 2. I can only check 10 days into the future.There is a reason why there is no snow this year. It is because I purchased a snow blower at the end of last season. So did both of my sons'. It is like going to the doctor when you feel sick. As soon as you enter the office, you feel great. Buying the snow blower was like preventative medicine.

President's Day

Today is President's Day. Where I live, it starts off President's Week. The schools are closed for the entire week. People will celebrate this week in the malls or at Disney. Others will fly to Aruba. I will be in work. Since I work in the medical field, I do not have this week as a vacation. We used to celebrate George Washington's birthday on February 22, the real date. We used to celebrate Abraham Lincoln's birthday on February 12, the real date. Someone got the idea to combine the two and throw in a week off. The only thing that bother me is that I would bet that most people could not even tell you the names of all of all of the 44 United States Presidents. They could tell you the names of the Jersey Shore idiots, or the Sesame Street characters, but not the names of the men that helped to form this country. Could you name them? Since, I am up and have a few minutes before I go to work, here they are:
George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe, John Quincy Adams,
Andrew Jackson, Martin Van Buren, William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, James Polk, Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, Abraham Lincoln, Andrew Johnson, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford Hayes, James Garfield, Chester Arthur, Grover Cleveland, Benjamin Harrison, Glover Cleveland,
(yes, twice), William McKinley, Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, Woodrow Wilson, Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Herbert Hoover, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Harry Truman, Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Barak Obama.
Some were great, some were not. Let's make number 45 really count.

I See The Light

Finally! I got up this morning and saw the light. The sunlight. For the past few months when I awaken, it is totally dark. I drag myself out of bed to start the day. I wake up the same time every day, even on the weekends. Six thirty. People often ask me why I do not sleep late, on my days off. It is not that I do not want to, it is that my body has it's own alarm clock. When I saw the sunlight today, I thought that maybe I had overslept. I squinted at the clock and saw 6:32. I also saw a stream of sunshine on my wall. I immediately smiled. For the next few weeks, until we turn the clocks ahead on March 11, I will wake up to light. What a treat.

New Puppy

Every morning, I walk Shelby in my backyard. Part for health reasons, as I do not want him sniffing around other dogs' "stuff". The other part is for laziness. I am not the kind of person that would like to walk him around the neighborhood. My philosophy is "do what you have to and do it quickly". This morning I looked two yards over and saw the man who lives there walking a tiny puppy. Brown and white. Real cute. Of course, Shelby, being the curious dog that he is, started barking. He thinks he owns the block. After I pulled him away and he quieted down, I realized who the man was. He was the 16 year old boy that lived in that house, when I moved in. Even though he lives two houses away, I have not seen him for years. He lived there with his mother, father and sister. His parents have since died and his sister got married 25 years ago. But, here he was, all alone in his house, walking his new puppy. Then, I did my calculations. My older son was one year old, when I moved here. My younger son was not born for another two years. This man has to be 46 years old. I never see people coming to his house and he was never outside. I guess in 30 years, nothing has changed for him, except for his new puppy.

Nothing Is Free

Yesterday, I walked into my office and saw a box with a note attached to it, sitting on my desk. The note read, "We tried to set up this wireless router and now the computers are down. Please fix it. Thanks." Almost immediately, a volcano went off in my head. Who is "we" and why would you even attempt to set up a wireless router, when I told you that a professional had to do it. My office computers are set up in a daisy link type of network. Any easy problems, I troubleshoot and fix. Certain problems are beyond my expertise and I leave them to the computer tech that we have a contract with. When the idea of having wireless internet was mentioned, I called our tech. He said that since we are a network, there would be a bit of a complicated setup, so he would have to do it. It would take one hour and cost $150. I told this to my boss and never heard another thing about it. It seems that a drug rep came to the office and in the course of conversation, she said she knew how to install a router. Well.... we all know how to do it at home. But we do not know how to do it when it is attached to a medical software program. By now, you know what I am getting to. My boss allowed her to set it up and, you guessed it, she crashed the entire internet and medical software system. I was now left to mop up the mess. I called the tech and we had a good laugh about the stupidity that happened. It took him 3 hours to uncross the wires, reinstall and save the medical system and set up the wireless router. All at a cost of $450. The moral of this story is, nothing is free.

Testing The Waters

I believe that a person is never too old to learn new things. I love to keep my mind active. Last year, after thinking about this for a while, I got my certification in Life Coaching. It was something I always wanted to do, but since the previous year was a busy one, I waited until the time was right. Once I had the credentials, I needed to put them to use. I made a few calls and got a good response. Last night, I did my first lecture. It was at a local library. The turnout was a good one. My goal was to do a one hour ,interactive program, without looking at any notes. Totally memorize the presentation. Well, I am glad to say that I did it! I do not think anyone knew that it was my first lecture or that I was a bit nervous. I guess I am a good actress. Next month, I will teach a six part course in the local High School. Someone from last night's lecture said they wanted to sign up for it. That would be nice. The point of all of this is, that at my age, I still want to grow, as a person. I never want to feel that I have done it all. I need to keep striving for more.

Hands Down

I am a person that pays attention to detail. Sometimes, too much attention. When I read a menu, I notice spelling errors. When I see printed signs, I look for errors. If things are not right, in general, I spot them. One thing that I focus on, that no one else seems to, is a person's hands. For some reason, when I meet someone, I look at their hands. I have no idea why I do this. I can identify every person I know, by their hands. If they stood behind a curtain and only displayed their hands, I would know who they are. I never asked anyone else, if they do this. I wear a ring that had belonged to my grandmother. When I look at the ring on my finger, I see her hand, wearing it. She died when I was ten years old, but I still remember her hands, as if I saw them yesterday. I must have been focusing on hands since I was a child. I am glad I only focus on hands. Toes are ugly.

Happy Valentine's Day

Today is Valentine's Day. It is a day when 25% of people will be happy. To me, this is a woman's' holiday. Men do not need a special day, to feel loved. If they have clean underwear and a hot meal.... that is love. Women need more. I guess it is the way we are wired. By last night, all smart men will have made the trip to the store and bought a card and at least one of the required items, either candy or flowers. Jewelry is a big bonus. Now, let me get back to why only 25% of the people are happy. First, we cut all men out of the equation. They were pressured into this holiday. Then we cut out 25% of women. This includes girls that were sure they were getting an engagement ring and women whose husbands shopped at the dollar store. Overall, 25% is not a bad number, for an otherwise commercial holiday.

The Collector

I come from a family of collectors. They collect all things from memorabilia to coins. Each piece is unique and has it's own history. They are proud of each piece in their collection. Every time a new piece is added, it is like a new family member has arrived. This morning, I saw another type of collector. I was walking Shelby in my backyard when I heard a clanking noise. It sounded like metal scraping on concrete. At first, I thought that a workman was starting his job, very early. As I continued walking around the yard, I saw a figure pass by the front of my house. It was a man pushing a shopping cart. Today, was recycle day in my town, so everyone has cans and bottles in their recycle bins. The man was combing through the bins, searching for aluminum and any other items that have a 5 cent recycle fee. His shopping cart was half full. He looked homeless and wore ripped up old clothes. He must make his weekly money from other people's discarded trash. I stood behind a tree and watched him. I did not want to be noticed, as he might have felt embarrassed, picking through my garbage. There are two types of collectors. One does it for a hobby, one does it to live.

One More

Yesterday, one more famous music idol died. The investigation is still ongoing, but most of us can surmise how she died. She was found in a bathtub. She sank under water after consuming drugs and alcohol. She had been a drug user for almost twenty years and her ex-husband was no better. She was so talented and had the most wonderful voice. A natural talent. Now here is the part that I found to be odd. As the news media is announcing that she was still in the hotel room, pronounced dead, just a few hours before, they were already discussing a tribute to her at the Grammy Awards, which will be held this evening. They had the callousness to ask themselves whether or not her mother, aunts and cousins, all famous singers in their own right, would attend the tribute. What didn't the news media understand? These women just lost a daughter, niece and cousin. They didn't lose a singer. they lost a person. To make matters worse, her ex-husband, went out on stage as scheduled, and "cried". Was the show more important than the person? No wonder why she used drugs. She was a commodity and probably knew it.

Five More Minutes

I just read a story that has terribly upset me. Jeffrey Zaslow, the author of the best selling novel "The Last Lecture" died yesterday, after his car slid into the path of a tractor trailer, while driving in the snow. He had just finished a book signing, promoting his newest book. I read "The Last Lecture" a few years ago and was very touched by it. The story was so well written and provoked many emotions from all that read it. It is a great loss to the world, to have such a talented author die at the young age of 53. Whenever these tragedies occur, when someone dies at the hands of an accident, and not a death from an illness, I always have the same recurring thought. What would have happened it they only stayed five more minutes, where ever they were. One more trip to the bathroom. One more kiss goodbye. One last look in the mirror to adjust your hair. Five minute, that would change a final outcome of life. Are life and death random, or is our time up, when G-d says so? I believe in the Book of Life. Your destiny is set from the moment you are born. As sad as that theory might be. I still feel like crying for Mr Zaslows' family, even though I did not know them.

Brown

I have issues with the color brown. It stems from my childhood. In second grade, a girl named Carol, sat in front of me. She wore brown, every day. She also ate glue. In those days, we called it mucilage. Thick, gray, glue. I equate the color brown, with glue eating. I think that brown is a dirty looking, unkempt color. It is not like black. Black is crisp and neat looking. Other colors are vibrant. Brown is dull. Years ago, a situation comedy called Married With Children, had a character, Al Bundy. He always wore brown pants. Never black or blue. I am sure that no one but me, noticed this. His character was low class, ignorant man. Brown suited him well. Today as I was driving, a man crossed right in front of my car,without looking. He was wearing brown, head to toe. I think that I disliked him more for wearing brown, than crossing in front of my car while my light was green.

Sing A Song

From the time I was a child, I remember my father singing. He has a wonderful voice.  My sister and I are among the few people that know all of the words to most Al Jolson songs. He walks around the house singing. When he buys a car, it doesn't matter if it comes with a radio or CD player. My parents would never turn it on. When my parents drive anywhere, my father  sings to my mother. I do not think they even know how to turn the radio on. He sings loud and sings a variety of songs. They can take a road trip for five hours and he will never repeat the same song. Occasionally, he whistles in between the words. He sings, Sinatra, Dean Martin, Tony Bennett and all of the other popular crooners. When I visit him, he is a passenger in the car. As soon as I turn on the car, I turn the radio on. My father starts to sing but not to the song that is playing. He has his own internal song list. I shut the radio off. My father's singing, is music to my ears.

The Messenger

I hate being the messenger. That is the person who receives the message and relays the message. Even though it is not my message, I still feel responsible for it. Sometimes, I even have to argue about it. For some reason, people think that they can have a different attitude with the messenger, than the person whose message it is. In my case, the messages are from the doctors I work for. Patients feel no remorse yelling at me but would be nothing but respectful to the doctor. I think that is why there is an expression, "don't shoot the messenger". Lately, I have been turning the tables, on the people I give the messages to. When they start to become abrasive to me, I say, "give me a minute to write this down, so I can tell the doctor exactly how you feel, about the situation, and tell him what you are saying about him". They stop dead in their tracks, and beg me not to repeat what they have said. "Why not", I ask. If that is how you feel, I think he should know. Word for word. I can visualize the sweat pouring down the other persons face. No one wants their nastiness to be quoted. The funny thing is, I am not threatening to do it. I actually do it. In extreme cases I make the doctor call the nasty person back, in front of me, and tell them they that they need to apologize to me. As George Costanza, from Seinfeld, used to say..."I have hand".

A Giant Celebration

The Giants won the Superbowl. Hooray for them. Today, in New York City, there will be a celebration parade. I am not a big sports enthusiast, but I understand the joy that people feel when their team wins. What I do not understand is where the city is getting the money to pay for this party. Every day, in the newspapers, I read about how the city has no money. They want to eliminate teaching jobs. They want to scale down police and fire jobs. Cutback and firings have been rampant. So, tell me, how are we footing the bill for this. I know people that are calling in sick to go to the parade. I know of parents that are taking their children out of school for this. Of course, these are the people that "are all caught up" on their work and "honor students" who can all afford to miss a day of productivity. Mayor Bloomberg stands at his podium, at least once a week and cries a tale of woe, at the cities finances. This parade will cost millions of dollars of overtime pay for sanitation and police. Is there a hidden slush fund that NYC residents are not aware of? How can we believe our politicians if they say one thing and do another.

IKEA Where I-BE-A?

I just came home from shopping in Ikea. It is a Swedish owned store that has home goods and modern streamlined furniture. Their prices are very affordable but there is one setback. You can never find your way out of the store. No one knows for sure, how many floors the store has, as it winds you in a circular maze. Once you go in, it takes a while to come out. Today, I think I spotted 2 hippies and one man wearing a disco suit. They must still be roaming there, from the 1960's. As I tracked through the store, I passed many other shoppers who were all saying the same statement. "Haven't we passed this area before"? When you ask an associate (the politically correct term for salesperson), where the exit is, they say, with such confidence, "just follow the yellow arrow and you will find the exit". Then they disappear. Eventually, you circle your way out to the checkout area, only to find that they do not have any bags to pack your purchases in. You walk out of the store balancing pots, pans and lamps. They do offer plain paper to wrap with , but no tape, so what is the point? When I leave the store, I always say the same thing. What if there was a fire? How would anybody get out? They really should do a study on the time it would take to escape. Ikea set me Free-a.

Superbowl

This evening is the Superbowl. I am not a big sports fan, so I will only be watching to see the new commercials and the half time show. That is only if nothing more interesting is on television. Today, many people will be betting and sweating. Betting, because that is what you do on Superbowl day and sweating, if you did not use common sense and bet too much money. Last night the parking lot of the local supermarket was totally full. Everyone must have been shopping for their Superbowl party foods. A lot of chickens will lose their wings tonight. If we checked cholesterol levels tomorrow morning they will have skyrocketed. Chips, dips, blue cheese on the wings, heros (or grinders, if you are in New England), cakes, cookies and brownies. It is a fun day. If your team wins, you can look forward to a parade. If your team loses, it will be rehashed by everyone you know, the next day. Either way, Superbowl had become an American holiday.

Thanks, Ma'am

I remember the day, as if it was yesterday. The day I turned from "Miss" to "Ma'am". It was only a word, but it meant that I was entering a new phase of life. We use the word, "Miss", when we address a young lady, whom we do not know. The word "Ma'am" is reserved for the more mature woman. It happened to me, in Modells department store. I was with my son and I was about 24 years old. When I heard the salesperson say "Ma'am", for a minute, I did not know who he was talking to. After a moment, I realized it was me. In a split second, I had moved on in life. I was no longer viewed as a young person. I was now an older one. Last night, I was in the supermarket with my daughter-in-law. She is in her late twenties, but looks like a teenager. The boy gathering up the shopping carts, wanted her to leave her cart where it was. He called out to her, "Ma'am, you can leave it there". To me she is still a kid. To him, she is an adult. She entered the new phase of her life, and probably never even realized it.

The Do-It-Yourselfer

It is 7am and my family is already up and ready to go . Today, will be a very productive day. My son will be installing a porcelain tile floor in his family room. This is a common occurrence in many households, except for one thing. He will be doing it himself and it will be his first time doing it. Since he purchased his house, he has become a big fan of "doing it yourself". This mindset comes from the reality that if he had to hire someone to do it, he could not afford it. He has spoken to various people, for many weeks, to get their input. By this time, he knows which tiles are best, the strongest tile adhesive and what grout to use. There has been some debate as whether to use pre-mixed or mix it yourself. I stay out of it. I do not want to be responsible , if I put in my two cents, and skew the decision in the wrong way. I am sure there will be a lot of screaming today. That seems to be a great tension reliever, in my family. I just want him to end up with a floor that he can be proud of and add this skill to his long list of others.

Groundhog's Day

Today is Groundhog's Day. This year it does not seem as exciting. Our Winter has been a very mild one. I do not remember, when the last year was, that January temperatures reached over 50 degrees. Last year, we all waited to see what the Groundhog would say. Would it be an early Spring or would we have to suffer through more snow storms? We had been trapped in our homes, surrounded by 8 foot walls of snow, for two months. I remember hoping that Spring would arrive soon and melt away the icy nuisance. This year, so far, we have gotten off easy. We do not have to wish for an early Spring, since Winter was so pleasant. I guess even a Groundhog's job could be in jeopardy. I hope I do not see Punxatauny Phil on the unemployment line.

The New Pan

Today, I got a new Teflon pan. Not too big, not too small. Just right for an omelet. Whenever I get a new Teflon pan, I have such high hopes. After 30 years of buying them, I am still convinced that the new one, will be the one that doesn't get ruined. I truly believe the commercials that show the eggs sliding around the pan without any cooking spray being applied first. History has shown me, that if I get a good years wear from the pan, I will be ahead of the game. I know that I am naive, thinking that this pan will be "the one". I know I will be disappointed down the road, but it just goes to show, that I still hold out hope. I will still treat it with care, not use metal utensils and wash it with warm water. Even though I know it will disappoint me, in the long run, it still deserves respect.