Q is for Quagmire – The Alphabet Series

Aging & Attitude

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New Thoughts on Words

We call them lose-lose situations, predicaments, or sorry plight. We feel squeezed in a trap; morass, swamp, or quicksand­­­­­­­­­. It is a quagmire. Quagmire is a noun meaning, “soft miry land that shakes or yields under foot, or complex or precarious position.” Both are difficult to get out of.

The joke about the Jewish Mother comes to mind. You know the one; A Mother buys her son two shirts. The next morning he comes to breakfast wearing one of them. The Mother says, “What, you don’t like the other shirt?” The son is in a quagmire, an emotional trap, and wonders how to get out.

As with all types of swamps, cranberry to quicksand, once immersed there are techniques to avoid drowning in quicksand, whether you are dealing with your mother or mud.

  1. Stay calm, panicking or wriggling around will only get you in deeper.
  2. Delay reacting while you think over the predicament.
  3. Slowly pull out one leg, and if the muck is only up to your knees, your best bet is to move slowly.

Now let us practice responding to the Jewish Mother’s question, “What, you don’t like the other  shirt?”

  1. Do not explain that you plan to wear the other shirt to the game on Saturday because it is a pastel color. Guaranteed, she will say, “So it’s not good enough to wear to the office. You’ll wear it when no one sees you, strangers.”
  2. Control negative body language, wait her out and let her keep the discussion going. She will continue with  something like, “Did you try it on? Does it fit? I can take it back.”
  3. This may be a good time to kiss her Good Morning, then respond with a question. For example, “How does this shirt look?” With any luck, she will say, “Perfect!” If her response is, “You look like your cousin Jonathan,” you could be in over your knees. Move slowly out the door saying you have an early office meeting.

 

                                                                             ….just saying

P is for Preposterous – The Alphabet Series

Aging & Attitude

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New Thought on Words

We know preposterous means; absurd, unbelievable, or outrageous. However, after reading about Joe Muto, Gawker’s Fox Mole, I am confused.

I vaguely remember Muto being fired by Fox Television last April but was unfamiliar with the media blog Gawker, so I looked online. Wikipedia identifies the parent company, Gawker Media, and states “Gawker is a blog based in New York City that bills itself as the source for daily Manhattan media news and gossip and focuses on celebrities and the media industry.” Yesterday’s post featured a story about Donald Trump (I still want to call him “The Donald”) giving away suitcases of money.

Joe Muto, a graduate of Notre Dame, worked as a producer for Fox Television for eight years. Disenfranchised with their increasingly conservative view and refusal of co-workers to bring a fair and balanced approach to the broadcast show, Muto met with Gawker editors and when asked to prove he worked for Fox, provided two outtakes. I gather contacting human resources was not an option, and he may not have had an employee photo ID or pay stub. Regardless, Muto knew it was a crime, and although surprised Gawker posted the videos, does not blame them for his criminal record.

Muto’s sentence:

  • Ten Days of Community Service
  • Two hundred hours of private service at a Brooklyn literacy organization
  • A one thousand dollar fine
  • Forfeit to charity the five thousand dollar fee Gawker paid him

“John Cook, editor-in-chief of Gawker, called the sentence ‘preposterous’ and suggested Manhattan district attorney Cyrus Vance Jr. was trying to curry favor with Fox and its powerful chairman, Roger Ailes.”*

What is preposterous?

It is preposterous that Gawker cajoled Joe Muto into thoughtlessly providing outtakes and knowing it could subject him to criminal charges posted the videos.

It is preposterous that Muto now writes for Gawker. Some say the lucrative deal for his book, “An Atheist in the Foxhole,” cushioned the experience.

While cleaning trash in a city park Muto struggled to explain to a fellow community service worker why copying an outtake of Newt Gingrich fussing with his hair is a crime. The guy’s offense was getting drunk and stealing a cab for a joyride. It is rumored Muto answered, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Is  that preposterous?

….just saying

*The News-Journal, “Fox News ‘mole’ resurfaces with book” June 6, 2013

My Most Embarrassing Moment

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 Wet & Wild

Aging & Attitude

   My most embarrassing moment occurred the summer of 1986 on Long Beach Island, a well know vacation spot for families from the New York, New Jersey and Philadelphia area. The drive along the Garden State Parkway to exit 63A and over the Manahawkin Bay Bridge, affectionately called The Causeway by locals, is a true Jersey experience. The unique bridge lights, famed Strand of Pearls, are memorable viewed at night.

Called LBI, the island known for its beach umbrellas, sand castles, and surfers, has no boardwalk, and is minus the frenzy of other nearby beach communities like Seaside Heights, famous for Snookie and the TV show “Jersey Shore.”

My husband says his most embarrassing moment was asking a cousin when her baby was due and she responded, “I’m not pregnant.”

His experience pales next to mine.

Makes you wonder what is behind embarrassment.

My children and husband watched the incident.

In 1986, my son was eleven, my daughter, nine, and me; I was thirty-eight years old. I do not know the age of the pimpled face teen.

The week was uneventful, no rain or black flies, and the mosquitoes only came out at night. Our friends and their two kids visited a few nights, and we went to the Wet & Wild slide in Beach Haven.

Recently, I Googled  Wet & Wild on Eighth and Bay Ave, and it is renamed the Thundering Surf Water Slide, but the giant pink bubble gum colored slide remains the same.

The kids enjoyed Wet & Wild so much we went back. My husband, not up for the wet and wild experience, joined other parents in the gallery to cheer and applaud when the ride ended. I was eager and grabbed a rubber magic carpet for the ride.

For the vacation, I purchased a hot turquoise one-piece swimsuit; halter-top, knotted behind the neck and perfect for swimming.

After several carpet rides, I was starting to enjoy myself, you know let loose, when the embarrassing moment happened. To this day I am thankful my husband was standing in the gallery, keen-eyed.

I landed in the bottom pool with the heavy magic carpet on my head, choking on water. My eyes opened to Pimple Boy staring at me like he is stoned.

I managed to remove the mat from my head and stand, then heard a voice call my name. Once my husband had my attention he pointed to his chest.  I looked down. Yes, I was fully exposed and playing to a full crowd, about twenty people.

Pimple Boy popped more zits and I scurried to hide and put things back in.

I sort refuge behind the stairs, where my two children where hiding, and exclaimed out of breath, “The most embarrassing thing just happened.”

In whispered tones, they mouthed, “We know, Mom.”

I wonder what Pimple Boy’s most embarrassing moment is.

What is your most embarrassing moment?

                                                         …just saying

Thanksgiving Turkey & Christopher Columbus

Turkey and Christopher Columbus

Aging and Attitude

Writers can be odd thinkers. Their thinking is not peculiar, insane, or eccentric; they think differently. In my case, thoughts of cooking a turkey attach themselves to Christopher Columbus, the explorer.

Thanksgiving is a week away and Columbus Day Sale events are fresh in my mind. I could purchase a turkey on sale and cook it perfectly.

A bigger issue may be fueling this association.

Christopher Columbus questioned conventional thinking that the earth was flat. He was a trailblazer.

I am not in his league, but why do ‘people in the know’ or chefs say, “cook a turkey breast side up”?

For years, I have secretly roasted a turkey breast side down.  Recently, my discretion was revealed to a few close friends. They were speechless. Fearing they would consider me mentally ill, I explained.

“A turkey dries out breast side up as the juices sink to the bottom of the pan, so we baste the bird frequently. Why not turn the turkey upside down and stop opening the oven door?”

I was ready for their concerns and cautioned myself, do not mention your view on gravy.

“The bird will sit lopsided in the pan.” Several exclaim.

“So what, does it need a perfect tan?” I say.

“The pop-up button letting you know when it is done will not pop.” They announce in high-definition.

“The pop-up button doesn’t always pop-up.” I counter.

Christopher Columbus was not the only one to consider the earth might be round.

Perhaps I am not a lonely turkey renegade. 

Please cast your vote below for breast up or breast down. 

Just Wondering      

                                                                             

Water Bagging

Aging & Attitude

 What is Water Bagging? Water Bagging is a newly coined phrased (by me) referencing an experience that can occur in public bathrooms. Water Bagging has a snappy ring, sounds like water boarding minus genuine torture. The similarity, other than the obvious H2O, is the incident left me feeling victimized and asking, “What can be done legally?”

My mission was to exchange an ink cartridge that went dry printing a few Sud0ku grids.

The customer service person at the local super store said, “Wthout a receipt or the packaging, I can only give you ink.”

“That’s fine.” I said. Did she think I wanted money?

“Go get a new one; you don’t have to wait in line again when you come back.”

Great, I hike to technology, grab a new HP cartridge and a second one, just in case, and skip line.  She checks me out with a reminder to save the receipt and off I go. Life is good.

I  see a restroom, do not ‘really’ have to go, but slip inside. All the stalls are in use. The handicap stall frees-up first and since not previously used by a handicap person and no handicap people are in line, I hurry in.

Thanks to an ABC story, “Your Purse Could be Making You Sick” about pseudomonia, straphylococcus aurews, EColi and salmonella invading our homes due to women putting handbags on the floor, I look to hang my bag on the back of the door. The hook is missing. My handbag is small with two handles and closes with a snap, but not snapped. I dump my bag on the edge of the sink and start to undo my slacks.  The bag slumps into the sink, no big deal, until with my pants down and a plastic grocery bag on my wrist notice that like Niagara Falls, water is pouring into my handbag. Tripping, I grab the handbag out of the sink and begin tossing the contents into the plastic bag strangling my wrist. Once the handbag is empty, I pour mega amounts of water out, puddle walk to the toilet, sit with the bags on my lap, and pee, studying my wet stuff.

The ink from the receipt is bleeding and threatens to blotch up several items.

The automated paper towel dispenser is just beyond my reach, wiggling closer (my pants are still down) I manage to activate the release of brown paper by flapping my arms. I wipe things dry while standing.  A couple of deep knee bends later my pants are secured and nothing has touched the floor.

Leaving, I stop to use a noisy hand dryer hoping to preserve the needed HP ink cartridge receipt, conflicted about searching my handbag for ear plugs to prevent loss of hearing from these mother of devices.

Does Water Bagging happen to anyone else? What are the numbers?

Legislation may be need, definitely a grass roots movement, Women United Against Automatic Flush Toilets, Soap and Paper Towel on Demand Dispensers, and Hot & Cold Water Request Valves That Only Work When You Do Not Want Them To.

We could start a protest similar to Occupy Wall Street, but still pay taxes, babysit grandchildren and sleep in beds.                                                                                                             

                                                                                           ….Just Saying.

“Overactive What?”

 Aging & Attitude

Overactive bladder is a scary phrase for someone my age.  According to Dr. Paul Donohue, there are several ways to wet your pants.  His daily column in the local News Journal Newspaper answered a reader’s concerns and the good news; you can retrain your bladder, and or take medicine.

Leakage or stress incontinence is the loss of urine that comes when swinging a golf club, laughing, and sneezing. Laughter and golf may not go well together. If you anticipate a good time golfing, tee up with pads, not knee, the other kind. Perhaps you have seen Whoopi Goldberg’s TV advertisements. Another option is to be a straight-faced golfer committed to not laughing.

Urge incontinence is the other overactive bladder condition. Early symptoms (in my non-medical opinion) are, fear that a bathroom is not readily available when needed, and using a bathroom when you do not really have to go resulting in bladder shrinkage.

Dr. Donohue states that the medicines Vesicaare, Enablex, Detrol, Ditropan, and Sanctura help control the urge resulting from bladder contractions. He suggests retraining the bladder by delaying going to the bathroom for five minutes for a full week and gradually increasing the time before “going” until you are “going” every two hours or more. This process may result in doing the pee-pee dance, but it does work.

He also recommends avoiding alcohol, carbonated beverages, milk, milk products, honey, sugar and artificial sweeteners during training periods. This man is no fun.

Dr. Donohue goes on to describe a more barbaric invasive procedure, called InterStim no one wants to talk about, although it does stimulate a nerve somewhere in the lower body.

Thank you Dr. Paul Donohue. It is comforting to know there are options. We can take medicine or give up wine, ice cream and going out to retrain our bladder. . . .just saying.

About Me

Aging & Attitude…. just saying

About Me

My husband and I retired and moved to Florida from New Jersey in 2007.  One day driving to Altamonte Springs, and stopped at a traffic light beside a 1985 Ford truck, I became caught up in the world of Cheetah Girl, the driver. She wore a top ripped in the right places, serious fake nails and elaborate makeup. Her leather faced mom, a former woman of the jungle, sat next to her. Both were smoking.

It was a call to write, and I have been practicing since.

Blogging is fun and a way to go public with my efforts. Your comments can help navigate my journey on the winding road of aging.

Initially my posts will be weekly then twice weekly, building towards daily.  They will average around 500 words of a little bit of this and a little bit of that.

  •           Something funny or LOL Laugh Out Loud
  •           Something new I’ve learned
  •           Something about travel, Italy, or a day trip in Florida
  •           Something about health, I have Type I Diabetes and use an insulin pump.
  •             Something about Woman’s issues   

  

Education, Professional, Published  

  •          BS Degree in Education State University College at Oneonta, New York
  •          MS Degree Lehman College Bronx, New York  
  •          Worked in Sales and Education  
  •           Published  Florida Writer’s Association, “ Let’s Talk Anthology”  2011