Aging & Attitude
Thinking is more than a thought. So get out of bed Stand on your head Meditate! That 10% Mind Myth is false The Brain Initiative is more than talk Mind Mapping identifies . . . gets you to walk Is dementia a squawk Like a lazy muscle, atrophy the cause Can humans run out of thoughts Ask Scarlett Johansson, character Lucy; How to be a kick ass beauty Stop ruminating about loss Thinking is more than a thought.
“Do you Tweet?” Christine asks me, as the waitress approaches the table.
We are having lunch at The Olive Garden. It is a celebration of sorts; Christine has a new website and food blog, Pudbudder. Tricia’s, children’s book, “Detective You’re” is in the hands of an illustrator, and my short story, “Wheels of Circumstance” is an FWA selection.
The waitress interrupts to tell us the specials and ends by saying, “I’ll be back to take your order.”
“I have a Twitter account but never Twit?” I responded
“It’s Tweet, you tweet, not twit on Twitter.” Twitter links to LinkedIn and can increase your followers. I have 452 followers. I’m doing resumes for people in Australia”
Tricia and I, thankful to know someone tech savvy are impressed, and leap on the opportunity to ask questions we feel too stupid to otherwise ask.
“If it is called twitter, why do you tweet and not twit?”
Soft spoken Tricia inquires politely, “What’s Twitter?”
“Twitter is an online social networking service where people can send and read text-based messages of up to 140 characters, known as ‘tweets’.” Wikipedia’s definition; “a short burst of inconsequential information, and ‘chirps from birds’.” Christine says smiling.
“I think I was a bird in a former life,” I comment.” But why characters? Why not spaces?”
Tricia asks, “Couldn’t they send a short email?”
“I don’t know.” Christine rolls her eyes and continues, “This is like trying to convince cavemen they’d be better off using matches.”
The waitress is back and takes our orders.
When she is gone, Christine leans across the table to Tricia and questions, “Do you know what a hash tag is?”
“Don’t be a twerp, how would I know about hash?” Is Tricia’s not so polite, reply.
“It’s a number sign, # you can use it to share a twitter story.” Christine taunts and proceeds to inform us; Twitter is undergoing changes and now has Tweetups, Tweetie, New Twitter, and Retweets.
I have a headache.
We leave the restaurant two hours later laughing about Twitter, tweets and twits.
Later that evening I login in to my Twitter account, take the Twitter -Tour and learn, one has to follow to get followers.
So, who will I follow?
Mr. Wonderful is watching the ALDS series, the Yankees are playing Baltimore. I type Yankee in the search bar. Mike Blooomberg, aka Mayor of NYC, tweets, “Go Yankees”
Ruth Westheimer, aka Dr. Ruth, Psychosexual Therapist,(I am surprised is still alive) tweets, “So-A-Rod benched”
Nothing exciting is happening here.
I plan to watch Blue Bloods on CBS and figure the TV program is a safe search.
Jim Wahlberg, Dorchester, MA, no known relation to Danny, Donnie Wahlberg, real life brother to Mark Wahlberg well know for the movies, Ted and The Fighter is tweeting, really flirting with Paula NKOTB.
Not of interest to me.
However, Donnie was recently interviewed by Gayle King, of whom I am a big fan. She asks an interesting question, waits and respects the answer. Sunday morning Gayle tweeted she’d been to Streisand concert and to the Barclay for burger bash with her favorite mayor. I am jealous.
Gayle has 589, 454 followers and one more, me.
As of today I have one follower, dear Christine, but who is counting.
…just saying
Aging & Attitude
Canada Calgary Zoo – Lee Tickett
New Thoughts On Words
Toes that no longer wiggle, giggle or dance when asleep
But cry, some sudden leg syndrome is attacking our feet
Hands that can’t twist to open a door
Or flip pages any more
Kitchen tops decorated with items to not forget
A part of our brain we haven’t used yet
Ridge in thought
Like stiff knees reluctant to bend
Our grey cells will not receive or send
Exhausted and depleted
We long for comfort food
Meatloaf and mash-potatoes
But for the cerebellum it is repeated conversations
So what if we forget to lock a door, a date, the place, a score
We are old, invisible and small
Don’t pester and pest
Let’s explore!
Close your eyes, envision youth and come with me…. please,
To places we have never been
….just saying
Aging & Attitude
I thought myself shallow remembering life more by what I wore than people and places; and hesitate to confess longing for clothing and the fond memories surrounding them.
Memories attached to a sweet sixteen birthday gift given by my grandmother. The glove box embossed with Gimble’s logo, and secured with a gold elastic ribbon tied in a tiny bow that rested in the top corner. I recall peeling back the layered tissue paper to reveal creamy white kid gloves with a real pearl closure; and feeling adult. After a day in the city, I washed the gloves in the bathroom sink by wearing them, rolled the gloves in a towel, and laid them out to dry. In the morning, I finessed the stiff pair of gloves back to elegance.
Younger memories are of a so-soft white rabbit muff, black velvet head-scarf, green coat and matching leggings with zippers near the ankle, that I wore to Sunday mass and on walks to school.
A red and white candy cane striped dress with a red velvet bodice dominates my thoughts of family Christmas gatherings. A Brownie uniform, the sash stiff with sewn on badges, reinforces a childhood relationship with Vicki Love. Shiny patent-leather shoes with heavy metal toe and heel taps dance my feet through lessons. A black herring-bone pencil skirt purchased for 25 cents at John’s Bargain Store brings back fun shopping trips.
Later a royal blue wind-breaker takes me skiing on Windham Mountain in High School and I’ll never forget that pink and white check swim suit with poor boy pants and a zipper up the back that I wore to Puffy’s Pond where I learned to smoke.
Bell-bottom pants introduced me to my college roommate, and a clear plastic bubble umbrella and rain hat are reminders of my first job at The Berlitz School of Languages. Paper underwear; I have yet to meet anyone who remembers them, a throw away item that was short-lived (they ripped easily) but I had a few pair.
Now thanks to Marilu Henner, yes the actress in Taxi, I can free myself from guilt.
Marilu has legitimized this type of recall, defines it primary memory tracking, and believes it is a pathway technique to other memories. She says, “It could be a sports track, a travel track, relationships, jobs that they’ve had, hairdos. I’ve heard bats even,” that connect you to your past.
She was recently interviewed by Diane Rehm, and discussed her book Total Memory Makeover. Tested and identified as autobiographical by Dr. James McGaugh, Marilu joins a select group of twenty, formed after the television show “60 Minutes” featured his research in 2010.
Autobiographical memory is distinctly different from photographic and Dr. McGaugh says people with autobiographical memory don’t’ simply remember the date Princess Diana died, they remember in detail their life on that day. MRI’s, of this small group of people, show their brains are different in size, shape and conductivity.
This trip to Washington DC for Diana Rehm’s interview, produced a drop down menu of other visits stored in Marilu’s mind by dates, going back to the first, on Saturday, January 18, 1969.
Marilu is smarter than most and has a gift, however, her Dad helped by breaking down the steps to remembering as; anticipation, participation and recollection. After holidays and family occasions they gather for a recollection party, now that sounds like fun. Sure they talked about what Uncle Jim did, but they seared the happening in their mind.
Her advice, “Find your track. It’s like in the jigsaw puzzle of your life, what are those hard-edged pieces to help you make a bigger picture? Or as my brother-in-law said, in the murky forest of your memories, what pebbles have you dropped along the way?”
I am thinking about memories and remembering differently and look forward to reading her book.
I am ready for a memory makeover.
…just saying
claudiajustsaying 