I recently wrote about three of patients, that in spite of their age, are living vital active lives and they aren’t afraid to share their wisdom amongst the masses on the importance of doing just that. When Harry, Norman & Robert Met Lisa
The jury is still out on what has been happening since that essay. Is it coincidence, a conspiracy, my vivid imagination? Or all of the above.
While food shopping, a clerk who has never uttered a single word to me before, suddenly starts discussing the downside of growing older …. with ME …. as if we were one. My cart was not filled with adult diapers so back it up lady.
Just when I thought I was safe, my neighbor approaches to strike up a conversation about bones. Pointing out how “our” bones aren’t the same when “we” get older. My bones are cool thank you very much.
It’s now obvious to me that once the post office realizes you’ve turned the big 50, your regular mailman is replaced with the Grim Reaper. When death starts to moonlight … I can’t.
The amount of geriatric mail that enters my mailbox is ridiculous. Yesterday I received a pamphlet from the Sunny Hill Crematory. Seriously now! I’ll assume the Victoria Secret catalogs are now being placed in those younger, more attractive mailboxes down the street.
AARP has literally hijacked my mailbox with their paraphernalia. The amount of literature is equal to political ads. I’m only 2 years in bitch, save your stamps!
Back in the day the Grim Reaper kept his distance, giving nature a chance to take its course. Sooooo …. WTF happened? Why the constant notification? What’s the rush to the grave?
To put this in perspective, at my current age, my parents were working, functioning adults with active lives. My dad was 57 when I was born for god sakes, so I wasn’t even thought of when he was 52. Let that fester for a minute AARP!
It’s as if society is pushing us closer to the cliffs edge to make room for the newer improved models. We’re not cell phones, so calm your jets!
No one is spared really. I see this rush is across the board. While adults are being pushed into the grave at 50, the poor 10 year olds are being thrown into adulthood. I was basically in a playpen at 10 compared to kids today.
I know, I know, I must sound very geriatric right now comparing generations, but it’s more than a “back when I was a kid” comparison. I’m not that girl … I’m really not.
It’s just that when it comes to aging, society has become an aggressive seagull and I’m starting to feel like a lone Cheeto waiting to be swiped up by its talons. Back it up!
Don’t get me wrong, my inner geriatric has raised its snow-capped head for brief appearances, but I’m still young enough to shove it right back in the closet. Hey, those skeletons need some company.
I’m not trying to be a teenager here folks, I’m just trying to age gracefully while I continue to … Enjoy the Ride!
Three wise men walked into a Podiatrist office. No, this is not the beginning of a joke about aging feet, it’s the story of one of the best days I’ve had at work in a long time.
Let me introduce you to Harry, Norman & Robert. Three interesting, intelligent and inspiring men who walked into the office, dropped some wisdom and went about their day.
Harry -83 years young: Harry is a recent surgery patient with a wonderful sense of humor.
When he came in for his first post-op appointment he said, and I quote: “I want to thank Lisa for answering all of my questions, she is a fountain of knowledge.” I asked him to call my children to inform them of that fact, he thought I was kidding … I was not.
Believe it or not, the accurate conclusion that Harry made about me was not what captured my heart. But, it certainly didn’t hurt.
Harry told me that he volunteers in a first-grade classroom, and has been doing it for years. He was so happy that the teacher had the class send him Get Well wishes after his surgery, but there was a catch, they had to include a joke. Laughter is the best medicine.
This gesture filled Harry’s heart. He told me that he enjoys volunteering in the First Grade classroom because it gives him the joy to see these children enter the door not certain what to expect and leave with confidence.
He went on to explain that he has a special bond with this teacher. Harry lost his son years ago in November, just when this teacher was getting married. One young life ending as one began.
Shortly after the teacher was married she found out she was expecting and 3 months into the pregnancy her new husband died suddenly. Grief, let me introduce you to grief.
Their losses brought them together and they are wonderful friends who helped each other heal. He’s been volunteering ever since.
83 years old, still thinking, still living and still making a mark in this world.
Norman-86 years young: He came to us a few months ago via his family doctor, which is never good, and let’s just say that “the little piggy that went to the market” never came back.
When he called the other day he was very nervous that “the little piggy that stayed home” was on its way out too so we made room on the schedule. Podiatry office humor.
Norman came in as if he was the guest of honor at a celebration, not someone with a potential gangrenous toe.
He was wearing a Villanova cap to “make the doctor happy” since his daughter is a student and it was the day of the championship game. Well played Norman, well-played indeed.
Norman was excited to reveal he had recently written a paper on aging. When I took him to the exam room I had to inquire about the paper. I was very curious.
I was thinking he wrote it for the AARP magazine. Nope, he said, “I wrote it for my family, I want them to know how quickly it comes up on you.” A warning of sorts.
The title of the paper is “Getting Old Is Not For Sissies.” Norman told me he stole that line from Bette Davis, an actress I wouldn’t know because, and I quote “you’re too young to remember her.” He had me at “too young.”
Norman still can’t believe he is 86. He doesn’t recognize the person in the mirror. Still has a lot to share with this world. Has an incredible sense of humor, and wants nothing more than for his family to be happy.
Norman is going to drop off a copy of the paper for me to read. No worries, I will share.
Robert-91 years young: Robert came in for a routine appointment. As soon as he came to the window he showed my co-worker a photo of him and his wife from 1941. They looked like movie stars.
Robert is a tall man, but frail. No doubt more so since he lost the love of his life. He told my co-worker a story that left them both with watery eyes.
Later I asked her about it and of course, I too was left with watery eyes. We’re so sappy sometimes.
Robert explained that he and his wife were sitting at the kitchen table and she asked: “How long have we been married?” Robert responded with “65 years dear.” Her response was “I have not regretted one day in 65 years.” Robert explained that even though she is gone, he is still stunned by her words. He is a walking, talking broken heart.
I was also taken back by my co-worker’s response to Robert which was “It was nice to be able to hear that Robert.” Indeed, it was.
I must say, it was a pleasure to pick-up these three men while I … Enjoy the Ride!
There has been a lot of activity going on here at the homestead. 23 years and not one has passed without some sort of project, so why should this year be any different. Because maybe I need a break.
I had no idea about this project until I saw the sketches. Notice that is plural.
One minute I’m attending an open house, and the next there are steel beams being erected in my yard. Confused? Me too.
Sooooooo, after a very long process the ground was broken, just in time for the holidays. Thank you Mother Nature.
What woman doesn’t want to clean-up never ending dirt during the holidays? The answer is … NONE OF THEM!
My friends, neighbors and anyone who sees our house, constantly remind me how “lucky” I am to have such a “handy guy.” Handy is fixing a pipe, I have someone who sees a mantle inside of a tree stump.
It’s not that I’m ungrateful or that I won’t be over the moon with the results, it’s the lonely road in between that does me in. I’m a Home Improvement Widow!
During these periods of “tinkering”, we can sit in the same room and one of us (not me) has no recollection of that period of time.Why? Because the wheels are spinning at a rate that I cannot even recognize. I’m surprised he doesn’t explode.
My life from now until the last stroke of the paintbrush will be solo. My other half is officially consumed into his project. His creative juices are percolating and his magic is about to be unleashed. Meanwhile over here ….
Legos for adults should really be a thing.
As if this enormous project wasn’t enough to occupy every waking moment, we had a recent mishap in our bathroom. 4 loose tiles to be exact. Remember that line.
The solution to this was put the masterpiece outback on hold, take a week of vacation time to “fix” the bathroom and you’ll be taking a shower in a week he said….
We only have one bathroom with a shower. The other bathroom has a beautiful spa tub. You know that saying “too much of a good thing won’t be good” it’s like that.
On the Saturday before the big fix I asked, and I quote: “Are you going to paint?” the response, which will be used by me every chance I get from now, until well … forever was “Yes, I’m going to paint.”
By the time I returned home Monday there was, let’s just say much more progress than I expected. Shock and awe were more like it.
There were FOUR loose tiles people.
Yes, he said he was going to “rearrange” the toilet and the sink.
No, he did NOT say anything about demolition … AT ALL! He said he was going to paint!!!
Needless to say, the week came and went. Progress is being made, but I’m still not showering or murdering.
The tile is down. The molding is up. The shower is on BACK ORDER. The toilet, sink and walls have not been spotted, but my patience is still intact. Hanging by a thread…but still on.
My favorite part about all of this is using my new Super Power. That’s right folks, the line “you said you were going to paint” is my new go to for everything ever wanted by yours truly.
Me: I think I’m going to order new cushions for the patio.
Hubby: Do we really need them?
Me: You said you were going to paint. They arrive Tuesday.
I just love the Yin/Yang of life!
Enjoy the Ride!
At this point in my life, why do I continue to let my Inner Critic rise to the occasion to spew its negativity? Really, it needs to just shut up!
The other day I was stretching at the gym when I noticed this young woman staring at me. For the record, the inner critic loves to come to the gym.
Now, I could have thought that she was admiring my flexibility, but nooooo not when I have the asshole in tow.
Immediately I assumed she was looking at my faults. We all know spandex does not lie. When you wear it at 52, after years of abusing yourself with food and bearing children …. it screams the truth.
We made eye contact, exchanged awkward smiles and moved along. The smile was received as sympathy for my flaws. Without one piece of evidence.
Later in the workout I noticed her looking in my direction …. again! I should have been thinking that perhaps she was looking for a date, but no not with the good ole critic by my side. It was all about body shaming from that one.
I allowed these negative thoughts to grow throughout the workout. I was ridiculously self-conscience the entire time. As if the struggle isn’t hard enough, I had to dodge some extra punches.
After the hour was over and the stretching complete, the young woman sheepishly approaches me. Mind you she was built like an instructor, not a client, so I assumed she was nervous about how she was going to be brutally honest with me. If only negative thoughts burned calories … I would be transparent.
There I stood waiting for the punch. Feeling horrible about everything spandex, everything about the workout and everything about myself. Defeat at its highest power.
This is what went down:
Young Woman: Oh hi I was just wondering where you get your hair cut. I saw you last week and loved your cut and I’m looking for a change.
Me: What did you say? I blamed my shock o the music.
Young Woman: I was just asking where you get your hair cut I love it!
Me: Gave her all the details and made her very happy.
By the time I got to the car I was furious with myself. I could not believe I put my accomplishments in the back seat while this miserable ass drove me to the point of such defeat. My inner critic has a name, and I think it might be Donald, after another ass I know who continuously spews negative energy.
Think about it….
No more trips to the past for me. Been there, done that.
No more beating myself up over my looks.
No more insecurities.
It’s all about moving forward to crush my goals like the badass rockstar from Mars that I know I am! Yes, that is the sound of someone wearing their positive pants.
I’m off to let my fabulous hair blow in the wind while I ….. Enjoy the Ride!
Quote: thejealouscurator.com; Photo: Huffington Post
I recently had the pleasure of being Summoned for Federal Jury. Yes, pleasure.
I’m not going to lie, going in I was torn between wanting to be sequestered and not wanting to go at all.
Since I do not know another soul in my inner circle that has been called for such a special duty, off I went. Not sure how I hit this lottery, but I’m glad I did.
As you know, Federal Courthouses have very intense security systems in place. I thought this was due to things like terrorism, however, now I’m not so sure. It’s all about the power of the wand.
On day one I put my belongings into the designated bucket, walked through the metal detector, and heard the Marshall say, “Whoa I was expecting sparks when you came through!” Of course, I thought he was referring to my dazzling personality …. he was not.
You’re required to serve for two days, so on day two I wore less dazzle.
This time, I was given the once over with the wand, instructed to sit in a chair, and had my boots felt up so thoroughly I felt dirty, weirdly satisfied and craving a cigarette. No dinner. No number.
Federal jury duty is indeed the country club of Civic Duty. There was a spread of food, drinks, carpeting on the floor, comfortable chairs, and cozy sitting areas. White collar crime is where it’s at!!
First up was the premier of a 5 Star video on the importance of our service. It was narrated by a local news anchor, along with words of wisdom from some senior judges. Oscar worthy … really.
Next, Carol the court clerk explained all the details of being paid for our time. We would be reimbursed for everything under the sun and then some in addition to our guaranteed $45.00 per day. Cha-ching!
I did not get selected on day one which meant I sat, waited and was bored out of my mind. I should have brought a bigger book!
What’s a bored girl to do? Walk the halls of course.
This is where I came across the FBI’s list of the 10 Most Wanted criminals in the country. FYI: The longer you look at these photos the more you will think “I know him!”
As I was standing there trying to determine if #6 was actually the guy who lives down the street, I heard “Hey are you looking to wrangle some of them in?”
Me: “That depends on what you mean by wrangle.”
We both laughed and I spent way too long wondering if this guy always used words like “wrangled.”
A small group gathered in one of the sitting areas. We introduced ourselves and became fast friends. It was like a cocktail party without the cocktails on the government’s dime.
Our group was a very mixed crew coming as far as 2 hours away to Philadelphia locals like myself. My absolute favorite juror was a woman from a wealthy Philadelphia suburb named Nina. Interesting and unintentionally hilarious were her traits.
It was about 12:45 or so when she realized we hadn’t had lunch. This is when she revealed she informed Carol the court clerk earlier that she is accustomed to eating lunch at 11:30. I burst into laughter assuming she was kidding … she was not.
After my awkward “oh I thought you were kidding apology ” I gracefully informed her that Carol is wearing a cow neck and a hair mane from the 80’s … she doesn’t care when you eat. Nina was not having it.
We all watched as Nina marched right over to remind Carol that it was long past her lunch time. This is when belief met disbelief…I’m still laughing.
The only one in our group to be chosen to serve was Tom a/k/a #79. He was a “survivalist” from a small town in upstate Pennsylvania. Think Rambo.
He wore head to toe camouflage gear both days, was able to profess love for his grand babies and describe how to break a neck without missing a beat. Intrigued is an understatement.
As for the rest of us a/k/a #’s 31, 43, 77, & 92, well, we went to a much needed lunch, exchanged emails and hugged our goodbyes.
Good energy is contagious … Enjoy the Ride!
Originally Posted On: Uncle Spike’s Adventures
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” Edmund Burke
Here’s how to add your support to our message of peace:
1) Publish the following statement on your own blog
2) Post a link to Twitter (#BloggersUniteForPeace) and/or Facebook
3) Reblog this post or any post that replicates this statement
4) Request to be added to the signatory list below by adding a comment or mailing email@example.com
5) Add an image Widget using this image URL and link to this post
Out in the real world I try my best to spread this message everywhere I go via my license plate. Some days are easier than others.
Driving around with this message on a daily basis carries a huge responsibility. It forces me to control my urge to get angry at other drivers, even when they deserve it. It reminds me to be courteous; mindful and respectful of those around me.
Believe me when I tell you these are not easy tasks to accomplish! Living in a world where everything is moving at the speed of light, patience are sparse and tempers run high make it challenging at best, but I try and that is a start. Trying and succeeding are not the same.
“True peace cannot be dictated, it can only be built in co-operation between all peoples. None of us, no nation, no citizen, is free from some responsibility for this.” Quakers in Britain in 1943
So fellow bloggers stand together for Peace and … Enjoy the Ride!
It’s been a while since I’ve paused to do what I love so much, but better late than never folks. I bet you’re all wondering what the hell I’ve been up to over these past few months. Sadly the answer is NOT traveling the world with my lottery winnings in tow.
The biggest thing that has happened to us over the past few months is we have broken our ties with CABLE TELEVISION. That’s right people I am living the Antenna Life a/k/a Clean Livin’. Yes, I did say “no cable” and “antenna” in November of 2105.
This relationship came to erupt end when my son accidentally changed our plan via the remote when he was trying to order a movie. You know what prevents this from happening …. wearing your GLASSES.
Within minutes, I called our new server Verizon Fios to alert them of the accident. Of course, I acted as if my son were a toddler playing with the remote opposed to the 20-year old ordering some god forsaken movie in the middle of the day, but that didn’t seem to matter. He could have been legally blind, randomly hitting buttons and zero fucks would still be given!
This is when I was informed that our plan was no longer available. In less than an hour our plan disappeared? Yes. Apparently that’s how our plan rolled. I had no idea we had the playah of cable plans, the plan that jumped from one customer to the next without looking back.
After several calls to rectify this is a civil manner we were calmly told “there is NOTHING we can do.” Really? In 2015, there is N O T H I N G that can be done? Not a single button could be pushed to rectify an accidental incident for a new customer … nada! Alrighty then ….
Have you ever gone from calm, cool and collected to cursing like Tony Montana? I have.
scare the crap out of you bore you with the ugly details of these negotiations, just know they ended with more money in my pocket each month and a new pair of boots on my feet to prove it!
Leaving the 21st century wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be … for us. My son’s response was “Whew! I got out just in time!” and my daughter responded with “I think I just saw a dinosaur walk by.” They think we have lost our minds, but they weren’t paying the bill so we don’t care.
No fears people we do have a Smart TV that allows us an occasional re-entry into the current century via Netflix. But I must say, we’ve been enjoying the calmness of outdated sitcoms much much more than anything from this century. Less violence goes a long way, especially at bedtime.
I’ve been hooked on the original reality show The Munsters for weeks now. The Kardashians have nothing on this story line! Lilly and Herman recently had an awful argument, but no worries Grandpa and that hideous character Marilyn worked diligently to get them to make up. Do you see how deep I’m in? I’ll leave my other addiction, My Favorite Martian, for another post. I’m crushing hard on Bill Bixby … really hard.
Enjoy the Ride! Even if it’s in reverse, way back to the 70’s when we enjoyed life at a slower pace and weren’t polarized by fear, negativity and Donald Trump on a daily basis.
For centuries women have had to endure inappropriate Neanderthal comments from the opposite sex … a/k/a men.
Simmer down guys there is no reason to get the torches ready. I’m not talking about ALL men here, just those creatures who sadly try their best to give you all a bad name. True fact!
Recently there has been a stir about street harassment from some very outspoken young women. Oh how I wish I was one of them back in the 80’s.
When I worked in Center City Philadelphia, as a young lamb just entering the slaughter known as the working world, I experienced a group of Neanderthals. Young, naïve and right to the wolves.
It was a beautiful spring day waaaaaaay back in 1989 when I left the confines of my office for that hour of peace called lunch. I remember this like it was yesterday because of the outfit I was wearing.
I recently purchased a coral colored straight skirt with a thin gold chain belt; a cream-colored blouse and chunky gold necklace. It was new, sophisticated and never worn again after it debuted that beautiful spring day.
Never is my wildest imagination did I think this outfit would cause such a stir among the construction workers, but you just never know what will provoke a crew of Neanderthals. Do not feed the animals!
Me: Sitting in the courtyard just enjoying the beauty of the day.
Construction workers: “Hey Creamsicle”
Me: Oblivious just chillin in the sun.
Construction workers: “Creamsicle! How bout a lick?”
Me: Curious, but still oblivious to what or who they were talking to.
Construction workers: “I love that creamy middle Creamsicle”
Me: Then the lightbulb F I N A L L Y went off and I realized … I am Creamsicle!
Have you ever seen a creamsicle run? Well, you missed that boat folks.
I couldn’t get back to my office fast enough, with a slew of emotions in tow. Is it possible feel ashamed, embarrassed, confused, pissed-off and somewhat flattered all at the same time? Yes, in fact it is thank you very much.
Having it happen to me is one thing, but hearing my cub tell me about the “old creep” who was hitting on her … Oh, this is a game changer. Suddenly putting a hit out on someone seems completely reasonable.
She innocently helped a Neanderthal to his car with his purchases. Why? Because he had a walker and was struggling. My little cub was just being kind.
As she is loading his car he said: “Thanks for your help, but it would be better if you were wearing a bikini.”
My daughter, who was still in shock when she returned home, couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this crippled man; who was old like her father, could say something “sooooo gross.” Why is the sky blue?
This is when I filled her in on the fact that it doesn’t matter if a man is old, young, crippled or on his fucking death-bed. They will continue to make inappropriate remarks to women … drum roll please … Until The Coffin Lid Closes!
Speak up and …. Enjoy the RIde!
New year new attitude … right? Lord knows I’m doing my best to get my Buddha groove in motion, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. Correction: It would be very easy if other people weren’t on the planet.
I was grooving like no ones business while I was home enjoying days 1 through 4 of this fabulous new year, but going back to work on the 5th made things slightly more challenging. Breathe …. just breathe is my new go to for sanity.
You see this glorious change in attitude comes on the heels of me taking some MUCH needed time off over the holidays to refill my happiness tank. People, especially those in my workplace, have been siphoning the happy out of me for months. I was running on fumes at the most joyous time of the year!
My attitude leading up to my 2 weeks of freedom consisted of being too old, too tired and way too sober for the shit that I was enduring for a paycheck. It’s safe to say FIRE was coming from my heels as I headed to my car on December 18th!
As soon as I got home I put my angry eyes away, shoved the last gram of fucks I had to give down the garbage disposal and enjoyed my family, friends and fur babies over 14 days. All good things must come to an end and this is no different, but I was ready.
Monday was the first day back to my normal routine, but I prepared myself for whatever negativity came my way. I filled my tank with premium happiness; my zen shield was running on full power; and I focused all my energy on building a new attitude. Those first 10 minutes across the threshold were blissful, absolutely blissful.
As I quietly made it through the day I focused on accepting the Oscar for best actress in a dramatic series. The Oscar goes to Lisa for her role in “The Employee Who No Longer Gives A Fuck.” The red carpet, paparazzi and hobnobbing were all crystal clear as the clock clicked away throughout the day.
That evening I attended a meditation class. Another step in a positive direction. I had no idea what to expect considering my ADHD squirrel attention span kicks in when I’m forced to think about nothing. Is that even possible?
Please note my dear friend joined me for this venture. Our friends at the gym refer to us as Lucy & Ethel, which you must keep in mind.
I went in without expectations, so I was pleasantly surprised by the peace that filled me the second I entered the room. The lighting, warmth and company were collectively welcoming me into the space. Lucy and I were both in need of this peace after our day and we settled right into mood.
Ahhhhh … there we were getting our much-needed peace on when suddenly there was a knock at the door. The door locked at 8 sharp according to the website, however the instructor let this
bull man through the door. He was the poster child for the term “Bull in a china closet.”
Peace scooted out as soon as the bull arrived walking head-on into the chimes, which sounded like a marching band. This was the start of the snickering between Lucy & Ethel. The bull then “settled” in to the class with the grace of an elephant settling into a Smart Car. Comical was an understatement.
This incident, followed by some deep diaphragm breathing, was not good timing for Lucy, Ethel and their immature sense of humor. Just hearing the instructor say “it’s ok to laugh, these sounds are silly” made it that much harder to control the snickering.
After what seemed like the longest 45 minutes of my life, I decided mediation was something I need to explore further … with or without the bull.
Enjoy the Ride … let your inner peace ride shotgun!