HOT OLD GUYS

My Kindle has become one of my favorite electronic devices. I carry it everywhere with me in my purse & thoroughly enjoy some interesting, semi-mindless reading when I have a few minutes. Lately, I’ve been reading a series of books about six girlfriends who met in college but are now in their mid-twenties, beginning their careers & finding love.

In one of the books they were having a discussion at their girl’s night out about “hot older guys”. They went on to extol the hotness of several “older” celebrities – namely George Clooney, Brad Pitt & Hugh Grant. Huh???

Now, I totally agree with the high degree of hotness of all of these men. My favorite is George Clooney, who I first discovered many. many years ago on the old “Roseanne” sitcom & then loved as Dr. Ross on “ER”. And Brad Pitt was a mere child when he had a small role in “Thelma & Louise” playing a hot cowboy who slept with Geena Davis’s character then absconded with her money. Hugh Grant has that attractive, boyish charm which has come across in many of the romantic comedies in which he has starred.

BUT, COME ON – OLD??????? I sat there staring at my Kindle screen as the 20-somethings went on about how they were really “hot” for “old guys”. They commented that any one of them could be their father, which was true. But what the hell? These are hot, YOUNG guys in my world. In fact I just looked up their ages & they are 52, 50 & 53, respectively. Geez, I would be accused of robbing the cradle if I was involved with any of them at my current age of 63. Of course, since there isn’t a snowballs chance in hell of that happening, I’ll happily stick with my own 58 year old “hot old guy”!

Every generation probably has its hot older guys. The ones that come to mind for me are Robert Redford, Clint Eastwood & my favorite, Paul Newman. I remember reading this anecdote about him several years ago.

One morning a woman vacationing in a small New England town where Paul Newman often visited got up early to take a long hike. Afterward she decided to treat herself to a double-dip chocolate ice cream cone at the combination bakery/ice cream parlor. 

There was only one other patron in the store. Paul Newman was sitting in the corner having a doughnut & coffee. The woman's heart skipped a beat as her eyes made contact with those famous baby-blues. The actor nodded graciously & the star struck woman smiled demurely.

“Pull yourself together,” she chided herself, “You're a happily married 45 year old woman with children, not a teenager!” 

The clerk filled her order. Her purse slung over her shoulder, she took the double-dip chocolate ice cream cone in one hand & her change in the other. She went out the door, coolly avoiding even a glance in Paul Newman's direction. 

When she reached her car, she realized that she had a handful of change but her other hand was empty. Where's my ice cream cone? Did I leave it in the store? Back into the shop she went, expecting to see the cone still in the clerk's hand or in a holder on the counter or something. No ice cream cone was in sight. 

She looked over at Paul Newman. His face broke into his familiar warm friendly grin & he said to the woman, "You put it in your purse."

Unfortunately, I have since learned that this is one of those urban legend stories which makes the rounds periodically using various handsome celebrities as the subject. It likely never happened, but it sure is a great story, isn’t it?

SUPER BOWL, HERE WE COME!

Many years ago, soon after Lou & I met, I gave him some gift giving advice if he wanted to steal my heart. I told him, “Don’t buy me jewelry. It doesn’t really interest me. AND if you were going to spend that much money, take me somewhere instead! Preferably a sporting event!” He has followed that advice wonderfully over the years with lots of fantastic trips & getaways.

We have been to the Daytona 500 (my favorite driver, Jeff Gordon, won) & Talladega 500 NASCAR races & the Indianapolis 500 open wheel auto race. The Giants beat the Phillies at the Major League Baseball playoff game he surprised me with in 2010 (the Giants went on to win their first World Series). There have been several NBA playoff games that we attended back when the Sacramento Kings were contenders. A couple years ago we watched the U.S. Open Golf Tournament & a professional tennis tournament in Palm Springs where all the big name players competed. And just this year we saw the America’s Cup yacht racing finals on San Francisco Bay.

BUT this year’s Christmas gift just may top the list! For several years, Lou has entered a lottery to be chosen to purchase Super Bowl tickets. Only 500 to 1000 pairs of tickets are given out for sale to the general public each year. They aren’t cheap, but going on Stub Hub or other resale sites jacks the price up three or four times or more of the face value.

There is only one entry per address allowed & it must be sent via registered mail. For many years Lou has entered using his dad’s, his sister’s, my sister’s, my son’s & my dad’s addresses in addition to ours. Each year we have all received postcards telling us we weren’t chosen & thanking us for participating – UNTIL THIS YEAR!

My sister, Karen, received an envelope advising her that she had the opportunity to purchase two tickets to the 2014 Super Bowl at the Meadowlands in East Rutherford, New Jersey!! But, there was a stipulation that this year (they had changed the rules without informing the entrants) ONLY the person whose name was on the letter could purchase the tickets & MUST pick them up with a photo ID & the credit card used for purchase, in person, at the stadium. Damn it!

Well, Karen & I figured out how to do it within minutes. We each have a credit card on my dad’s account in our names. She purchases the tickets using that credit card. Then she goes to the DMV, says she lost her driver’s license & gets a new one. Now, she gives me the old license & the credit card in her name. We are similar height & weight, both have long blonde hair & I just pull a ski cap over my head & pick up the tickets. Voila!

But Lou wasn’t too keen on our deceptive scheme & vetoed it. Hey, I know we could have totally pulled it off. However, Lou emailed & phoned the NFL office in charge of the lottery tickets. At first he was told they wouldn’t allow the transfer. The whole purpose of this new system is to prevent people from obtaining tickets & scalping them. Between Lou & Karen making several phone calls & sending emails back & forth (& an NFL guy who happened to go to bat for us with his supervisor), they made it happen! Lou was allowed to purchase the tickets for his use!

We have put together a week long trip to New Jersey & New York in the dead of winter so please, everyone, cross your fingers that the weather doesn’t turn nasty with a huge blizzard in early February! But if it does, what the hell, we’ll figure it out. It’s all part of the adventure!

Sure, I already know that my Christmas present is a trip to the Super Bowl, BUT half the fun of any gift is the anticipation – & I have a little over two months to let the excitement build. How cool is that? This is way better than a surprise. And WAY, WAY better than any pearl necklace or diamond earrings.

Does my sweetie know how to give a gift or what???? THANK YOU! Imagine – a trip to the SUPER BOWL! Be still my heart. How much better does it get for a true sports fan? What events could be left? Hmmm . . . . maybe the NBA All Star Game or the Olympics sometime – hint, hint. J

IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME

Tell me, have any of you ever looked at something in the grocery store & thought, “Yum, that looks good”, only to find out later that it was not even close to a good choice? Well, that happened to me today at Trader Joe’s. Trader Joe’s (for those of you who don’t have them nearby) is a great store with lots of good food, reasonable prices, easy to prepare & fairly nutritious.

Of course, the VERY best thing about Trader Joe’s is “Two Buck Chuck” or now, “Two & a Half Buck Chuck” since they raised the price. It’s a great, everyday wine that used to cost $1.99 a bottle & is now $2.49 a bottle. It really pissed off the wine snobs several years ago when their Chardonnay beat some of the $20+ bottles in a blind taste test.

But, I digress. Today I was shopping at Trader Joe’s. While looking for something interesting for dinner, I spotted some frozen salmon burgers. I’m not a huge fan of fish but do try to eat it once in awhile for the health benefits. I’m always searching for an interesting, tasty way to consume fish. These salmon burgers sounded pretty good – along with the sweet potato tots that were nearby.

I was picturing these delicious ground up salmon burgers that are seared on the grill with just a bit of crispiness to them. It sounded like a great choice for dinner & I was getting just a little bit hungry. I grabbed the salmon, the sweet potato tots & a couple of artichokes – along with a few bottles of Chuck. Woo hoo, dinner tonight was in the bag!

Fast forward a few hours to the time to get dinner started. I pulled the salmon burgers from the freezer along with the tater tots. When you think back to your childhood, I mean, who didn’t love tater tots? They were so good! Of course, my guess is that my mom fried them in oil to make them so crispy & tasty…..& loaded with fat & other non-nutritious things. Now days, they are baked & most of the bad stuff has been removed, leaving them relatively tasteless.

There were several ways to prepare the salmon burgers – in the oven, in a frying pan or on the grill. Well, it’s November & raining here, the grill was out. I started in the oven but after a few minutes they were not looking the least bit appetizing. So, I pulled out a frying pan, added some olive oil & plopped them in there. By now, I was getting the old “this seemed like a good idea at the time, but . . . ” feelings.

Again, not being a fan of fish in general & not having any real clue how to cook it or make it appetizing, the salmon burgers began to ooze this white, goopy stuff as they cooked. As Charley would say, “Ooooh, that’s gross!” And she would have been one hundred percent right. It was pretty gross. But dinner was too far along to make any drastic changes by now.

To his credit, Lou never complains about my culinary skills, or lack there of, for that matter. I put the salmon burgers (with most of the icky white goop cooked out), sweet potato tots & artichokes on the table. He ate it all & said it was good. Ya gotta love that man. As for me, not so much. It was okay at best.

So, please, tell me honestly, how many of you have had the experience of thinking what a great idea this was at the time only to have it dawn on you half way through the preparation that this kind of sucks & you screwed up?

My guess is that this is not the last time one of my cooking adventures will go awry but I need to remember a few things when it comes to dinner preparation. 1) Don’t shop when you are kind of hungry & anything looks good, 2) Don’t believe that the pictures on the boxes will look anything like the actual product, & 3) If it seems like a good idea at the time, it probably isn’t, so don’t do it!

THE JOYS OF AIR TRAVEL

Disclaimer: If anyone is offended by colorful language then maybe you had better skip this post because their just aren't enough non-curse words to adequately describe the current experience of flying halfway around the world. I wrote this on our recent cruise a couple days after arriving.

I'll start by asking a question. When exactly did flying become a fucking nightmare? I am old enough to recall when air travel was half the adventure of a far away vacation. It used to be such a civilized endeavor – room to actually stretch out a little, fellow passengers eager to ask about your plans, friendly flight attendants & service that included edible meals.

When I graduated from high school, a friend & I actually drove to San Francisco airport to simply wander around watching the passengers arrive & depart. This was when anyone could walk to the gates, not just ticketed passengers who had been frisked, searched, scanned, questioned & radiated with xrays. Anyway, we gazed at the airplanes jetting off to faraway places & fantasized about traveling the world since we were out of school!

Now, 45 years later I am literally halfway around the world on a cruise ship that departed Istanbul, Turkey. Currently, all is well, smooth seas, full stomach & a semi-decent night's sleep behind me. My high school fantasy of jetting off to foreign lands is far from the reality of present day air travel.

Here is my experience of flying from SFO to Istanbul. Our itinerary began with a drive to San Francisco (about two hours from home) on Saturday afternoon where we spent the night in a park 'n fly hotel before our 7 AM flight on Sunday morning. We awoke, not so bright-eyed & bushy tailed, at 3:45 AM on Sunday morning to begin our adventure.

The five hour flight from SFO to Newark, New Jersey was on time & glitch-free. Our initial itinerary had included a 1 hour 40 minute connection to our international flight to Istanbul. Experience is a wonderful teacher. After missing our flight in New York on our trip to Egypt several years ago, we both agreed, nope, that is not enough time. No way! We changed the initial flight to an earlier one that allowed us 3 hours & 35 minutes before the international flight.

After a leisurely lunch & sitting in the Newark airport for close to 3 hours we thought we were home free. Oh, what silly travelers! Just as I went to the bathroom for the last time before boarding, they made an announcement. That is never a good thing. Our plane had mechanical issues. Shit, shit, shit! They were getting a different plane & our gate would now be changed.

The mass exodus began as we all trekked to gate C102 from C128, not nearly as short a walk as it sounds. Our new plane would be landing from London shortly, then needed to be cleaned, fueled & restocked for us. Now our time was getting too close for comfort. It is something that is totally out of our control but a few well placed swear words really do seem to ease the stress – son of a fucking bitch! Here we go again. We finally left Newark 2-1/2 hours late.

You are so crammed into airplanes nowdays that even short people like me struggle to get comfortable. If you are 6'3” like Lou forget about any semblance of comfort. It makes for a miserable 9-1/2 hours when the seat reclines maybe 3 inches & you only have room to cross your legs if you pull your foot up around thigh level & force it over your knee.

The trip to the tiny bathroom down the narrow aisle has you bouncing off of arms & shoulders or tripping over errant feet of soundly sleeping people. How do they sleep like that? It also involves standing in a line with passengers & flight attendants squeezing by initiating body contact that is normally reserved for sexual partners! And, by the way, what do people do in airline bathrooms that takes so damn long???

None of this eases the somewhat unnerving experience of knowing you are hurtling your way at 500+ miles per hour across the night sky, over the ocean, with 200 other people, in a long skinny tube that can crash & kill you at anytime. When you also consider that this huge heavy aircraft has somehow propelled itself off the ground into the air & is bouncing all over said sky, it is best not to even think about it. Yes, it amazes me how quickly we can travel the world by air now but I sure as hell don't understand how it all works.

Fortunately, the procedures at Istanbul airport moved quickly & we arrived at the gangway of our cruise ship a full 11 minutes prior to the deadline for boarding. Nothing to it! The reason it was such a tight schedule is that a week prior to sailing the cruise line informed us that they had changed the departure time from 8 PM to 6 PM. That coupled with a two hour plus delay in Newark used up our cushion of time, but we made it! Ah, the joys of air travel.

BEEN THERE, DONE THAT!

For the past week I've been thinking about how in the world I am going to describe the feelings of finally visiting the two places I've most wanted to see in the whole world – The Acropolis in Athens, Greece & the ruins of the ancient city of Ephesus near Kusadasi, Turkey. The only word that comes to mind is “WOW!” I know, I know - pretty trite, but true.

I saw them on consecutive days & it rained both days, of course. It was the only rain on the whole trip. We were quite rushed on the Acropolis & a little rushed in Ephesus since we were on guided tours. BUT you know what? I didn’t care because I was there, I saw them both & they were spectacular!

Seeing a picture of something is great. I've seen countless photos of the Parthenon on the Acropolis. But when you actually see the real thing, there is something magical about it. Athens is a huge city but you can see the Parthenon perched atop the hill from all over the city where it dominates the landscape.

The weather report for Athens showed partly cloudy & highs in the 70s, but while we were in the New Acropolis Museum the skies opened up. Our guide assured us the rain would pass soon, but she was wrong. It kept raining. We had brought our umbrellas but left them in the bus while in the museum. Our jackets were in the bus, too. The bus was now about 3 blocks away so I put my camera under my shirt & took off running. The stone walkway was slippery & I immediately decided that I needed to slow down & not fall or I’d never climb the Acropolis. I resembled a drowned rat by the time I made it to the bus.

Armed with our umbrellas & cameras, about half the people on the tour trekked up the Acropolis with the guide, the others remained in the bus. As I climbed over the rubble from the ruins & entered the area of the Parthenon, it kind of took my breath away. There has been so much destruction to the temple over the years yet it is still a regal fortress presiding over the city.

We only had about 20 minutes of free time after the guide's talk. I circled the entire Parthenon taking photos from every angle. The wind was whipping, my umbrella was hard to control, & my hair was dripping. I was holding the umbrella, keeping my camera dry & doing my best to get some good shots between the crowds. But I didn't mind at all – because I was right there, gazing at the Parthenon, the crowning glory of the Acropolis, just like I said I would be back when I was a teenager. Whoa!

I would have liked some more time to just sit & contemplate it all – preferably not in the rain – but that wasn't to be. I chose to make the most of it. The rain, the puddles, the slick footing didn't matter. For about five minutes I just stood & stared at it, not really thinking anything, just taking it all in. I made it! I was standing next to the Parthenon on the Acropolis in Athens, Greece! Oddly, it was far less emotional that I had anticipated but far more awe-inspiring.

Me, in front of the Parthenon, looking like something the cat dragged in.

The next day we journeyed to Ephesus where Paul preached & wrote his letter to the Ephesians. Where Antony & Cleopatra traveled down Harbour Way to the Great Theatre & sat among the 24,000 spectators. I literally walked where they walked. The ruins of Ephesus blew me away! It was incredible & actually EXCEEDED my expectations.

Beginning at the top of the hill, your guide describes things as you descend through the city. It gets better & better as you pass through the marketplace, down the Curetes Way, past temple after temple, even the ancient bathroom was amazing. Using the toilet was a social event in the outhouse that could seat about 30 people side by side.

The Library of Celsius has been partially reconstructed around ruins that were uncovered & it is an imposing site. The Great Theatre is near the bottom of the city & it, too, was breathtaking. The first of the ruins of Ephesus were discovered in the late 1800s. The library was unearthed in 1958 & the ancient city opened as a tourist attraction about 30 years ago. Now, upwards of 20 million people a year visit.

I tried to imagine the city in it's hey day, full of people in togas, laughing & drinking. The structures must have been magnificent. It would be incredible to be a fly on the wall & travel back in time to quietly observe their everyday life. But, alas, I had to do my daydreaming with masses of other tourists.

Me, on the Curetes Way in Ephesus, about to visit the Library of Celsius in the distance.

I'm pretty sure I've done a lousy job of trying to convey my thoughts & feelings after visiting these places. They say a picture is worth a thousand words so you might want to check out my “Travels Near & Far” blog: http://www.kat-silver.blogspot.com/ to see a few more photos of what I'm attempting to describe. 

TRIP OF A LIFETIME

As a semi-retired travel agent, I often heard clients refer to “the trip of a lifetime” when discussing big vacation plans. I never cared for that term since I love to travel all the time & have gone on many trips all over the world which I plan to continue doing for a long time to come. I never wanted to differentiate between trips by labeling them, BUT that being said, this trip we are leaving on tomorrow just might be “the trip of a lifetime” for me.

Way back in the dark ages, in the mid 1960s, when I was a high school student, we studied Greek mythology. In the 1990s I recall my son taking a history class in his high school titled “America in the Sixties”. “Oh, good Lord,” I remember thinking, “I lived them, that’s not history!”

But I digress, back to my point. In my high school history class (or maybe it was English, I don’t remember) I was captivated by the stories of the Greek gods & goddesses of Mt. Olympus in ancient Athens. My fascination with Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, Athena, Poseidon & Ares, among others, made mythology my favorite subject in school.

Although I have long since forgotten most of them, the stories of the gods & goddesses whose legendary temples were built on the Acropolis intrigued me like none other. The most famous is the Parthenon, erected almost 2500 years ago & dedicated to Athena, the goddess of Wisdom & War. I vividly remember telling my 15 year old self that someday I would travel to Athens, climb the Acropolis & see the Parthenon with my very own eyes.

Well, that “someday” is less than two weeks away! Almost 50 years after first thinking I would love to visit the Acropolis with its ancient temples & rich history, it will become a reality for me. One of the last stops on our cruise of the Black & Aegean Seas is Athens, Greece, where I will finally realize my high school dream. How frickin’ cool is that?

The term “bucket list” is a fairly new one. It was popularized in the 2007 film “The Bucket List” starring Jack Nicholson & Morgan Freeman. The story follows two terminally ill men who are exact opposites but set out to do as many things as possible on their respective “bucket lists” before their demise.

A “bucket list” is defined by the Urban Dictionary simply as a list of things to do before you die. It comes from the term "kicked the bucket" which is used to say someone died. If I had a “bucket list” (which I don’t) visiting the Acropolis & the Parthenon would be at the top.

Second on that list would be visiting the ruins of Ephesus (the city where the Ephesians of Biblical times lived) in what is now the country of Turkey. Well, as luck would have it, this cruise also stops in Kusadasi, Turkey, which is the closest port city to Ephesus. For the past 30 years, I’ve wanted to explore the ancient temples of Ephesus. And I will get to do that, too!

It sort of takes my breath away to realize that I will be seeing the TWO absolute top of my list travel destinations! I can’t even imagine what it is going to be like to actually stand there, gaze at the sites & take it all in. BUT now at 63 years old I’m going to find out. I kind of want to jump up & down, wave my arms & scream really loud.

I love to travel & have devoted a lot of the second half of my life to seeing as much of the world as I can. Fortunately, I found Lou who had a pretty big head start on me with all the places he’s already visited. Together we keep finding more & more places to explore. This cruise will also visit Odessa, Ukraine, where Lou’s grandmother was born, which is high on Lou’s travel bucket list. The cruise makes three stops in Ukraine & also visits Bulgaria & Mykonos, one of the Greek Isles.

In the weeks to come, I will do my best to describe the thoughts, feelings & emotions I experience when I finally see the Parthenon, in all its ancient glory, right in front of me. 

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

It never fails. It can be 10 or 11 PM at night & I can’t keep my eyes open. Even if there is a good show on TV, I’ll be sitting on the couch realizing I just dozed off & missed 30 seconds. So, I get up & go upstairs to bed only to find that I am wide awake. There is something in my brain that seems to switch on the second my head hits the pillow. This doesn’t just happen occasionally but almost every damn night.

My entire adult life I have rarely fallen asleep quickly or slept all night. Normally, it will take me a minimum of half an hour to fall asleep, most nights longer. Over the years I have learned to relax to the extent that even though my mind is whirling away, my body is totally relaxed & virtually sleeping. I’m sure it isn’t nearly as good as actual sleep but it seems to work for me.

I have an unwritten rule I’ve made up that if I’m still awake two hours after going to bed (which happens more than I would like) I get up for awhile & either read or write. But there is a silver lining to this sleep pattern. I have found that I do my best thinking in the middle of the night. It is not unusual that ideas for blog posts will pop into my head & once that happens, I might as well get up & write it down. It will surely be long gone by the morning.

Now that I have “retired” & don’t have to get up early most of the time, I really enjoy my late night alone time in front of the computer when it’s quiet & peaceful. I have always appreciated my quiet time with no TV or music or conversation, just me & my thoughts. Usually, after an hour or more I’m ready to give it another go & see if I can drift off to sleep.

Back when Darrin was a small child, I would stay up by myself a couple times a week just to get that “me time”. All I would do is watch some late night TV or read a bit but I have always craved the quiet time by myself, although I never minded sharing my respite with my son once in awhile.

One time when Darrin was four years old, he woke up & was unable to get back to sleep. It was a weekend & Saturday Night Live was on so I brought him in on the couch with me. We laid down & snuggled with the afghan over us. The Mr. Bill skit came on where a little clay figure gets flattened by something & always goes, “Oh, no!” in a high pitched voice. Darrin started giggling so hard & couldn’t stop which got me giggling at the poor little guy getting squashed. Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane – geez, it was 33 years ago! Where does the time go?

Currently, there are a couple scenarios that unfortunately alter my peaceful, relaxing awake time in bed. I have eliminated most caffeine from my diet so when I do have some I feel it more. Sometimes I forget to use good judgment (or just say, what the hell) & have some caffeine in the evening. A diet Pepsi or two at dinner out or a little chocolate for dessert can sometimes wire me up like someone who’s had four espressos right before bed.

After about five minutes in bed I can tell that this ain’t gonna work. The deep relaxation is replaced by a jittery, teeth clenching feeling that pretty much signals me to just get up right now because I’m not going to sleep anytime soon. In those rare cases, I just get up, resign myself to a late night, turn on Letterman or Leno & start typing.

My other sleep shattering experience feels similar to a “caffeine high” BUT I haven’t had any caffeine. I’m pretty sure that it is something in food & I’m still trying to figure out what it might be. I have a feeling that it is an ingredient on the long list of things included in processed meals. I wrote this on one of those nights at 2:00 AM. 

I made a frozen broccoli & beef with rice meal for dinner. I went in & dug the package out of the trash to see if I could pinpoint something causing my sleeplessness. The ingredients seemed pretty basic until I got to the sauce – there must have been 20 different things on the list, many of which I couldn’t pronounce. My guess is that the culprit was one of those, maybe soy sauce whatever or mono something or glutamate something.

I guess it’s true what they say – if it has more than a few ingredients & most don’t sound like real food, spit it out! Or at least have lots of good books on your Kindle for the late nights. J

SOMETIMES THE SYSTEM WORKS

We've all been there – sitting on hold for endless hours, pushing button after button with ridiculously simple topics that have nothing to do with your problem. Or worse yet, having to talk to a recording. Is there anyone who sounds natural saying “Yes” or “More information” or “Billing question” to this detached voice?

Then “Jason”, who is clearly answering your call from somewhere on the other side of the world, comes on the line. By the sound of his accent & his programmed willingness to help, you are pretty sure that “Jason” is not the name his mama gave him at birth. “Jason” apologizes constantly & reassures you that he will fix your problem over & over. On some occasions “Jason” is indeed able to solve your problem but more often than not it will take many more calls with many more explanations on your part before your issue is resolved.

But once in awhile the system works to perfection. Here is some background on our need to solve a particular problem. On our trip to upstate New York a few months ago, Lou & I stopped in Syracuse for half an hour to take a quick look & some photos of downtown. Syracuse has machines that issue a receipt showing you paid through a certain time which is placed on your dashboard.

We followed the directions, put in enough money to give us 30 minutes & placed the receipt on the dashboard. Grabbing our cameras we shut the door, synchronized our watches & headed to Clinton Square half a block away. We returned 25 minutes later to find a parking ticket on the windshield! WTF????

It was a windy day & apparently a gust had blown the receipt when I shut the door turning it upside down. Damn it! The parking ticket was printed out from a hand held automated machine that clearly showed the time it was issued – 9:52 AM. Our receipt was good through 10:06 AM but it wasn't visible.

After a few choice words, I used some of my son's valuable words of advice – spend 20% of the time on the problem & 80% of the time on the solution. The back of the ticket showed a procedure to contest the citation by mail so I tucked them both in my purse & told Lou that will be easy to do when we get home in a few days. We forgot about it temporarily & headed to Cooperstown.

Upon our return home I filled out the back of the ticket then sent it with copies of the parking receipt & ticket plus a letter of explanation to the address provided. I was confident that we would not have to pay the $25 fine.

About three weeks later Alamo Rental Car decided to take matters into their own hands & entered the mix. Apparently, they received a copy of the parking ticket. Alamo sent us a letter indicating that they had paid the ticket & we owed them $25 for the ticket, plus an $18 fee for a total of $43. I don't think so!

And here is where the system worked like a charm to fix this problem in record time. I called the 800 number on Alamo's letter. On the third ring Angelica answered – she was a real, English speaking American woman. I explained the situation in detail & gave her the invoice number from the letter. She asked if I had copies showing we had paid for parking. I replied yes. She asked me to email her that information & gave me her email address.

I scanned the copies into my computer & emailed them to her. This was about 4 PM – a few hours later there was an email reply from Angelica saying that the invoice has been closed & we don't owe Alamo anything. I couldn't believe how easily that was resolved. Why can't more companies, specifically cell phone & cable TV companies, hire competent people who can actually solve problems?

The next day we received a letter from the City of Syracuse saying that they accepted our explanation & the ticket was dismissed. So, we now have a clean driving record in Syracuse, New York & as far as we know Alamo will still rent cars to us. When the system works it is a beautiful thing.

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

I save lots of jokes or quotes or interesting thoughts.  I ran across this column by American humorist Erma Bombeck the other day when I was reading through some of my saved treasures. Truer words were never spoken. This was one smart woman. You & I are still here to put this into practice. Start today.

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck
(written after she found out she was dying from cancer in 1996).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love yous." More "I'm sorrys."

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it, live it, and never give it back. Stop sweating the small stuff.

Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.

Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.

Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with. And what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally, in our one shot at this and then it's gone. I hope you all have a blessed day.

PEACH PANTS & DIRT

Have you ever known one of those women (usually older, trim & perfectly coiffed) who can wear white pants to a picnic outdoors & never get a speck of dirt on them? I am certainly not one of them but I have met a few in my lifetime. It has always fascinated me how they can stay perfectly clean without even trying. I am quite envious of them but have accepted the fact that I am sort of a female version of the Pigpen character in the Peanuts comic strip. You know, the little guy who always walked around with a cloud of dust surrounding him.

Years ago when my son & ex-husband were involved in air shows an older performer’s wife, Mrs. Nissen, was one of those dapper women who dirt seemed to be afraid of. Mrs. Nissen was a friendly, outgoing, sweetheart of a woman who would sit out with her family near their airplane all day. She never seemed to get dirty or even rumpled when the rest of us were a mess – hot, sweaty & grimy.

That evening at dinner Mrs. Nissen’s white pants would be spotless even though she never had time to change. I honestly don’t know how she stayed so neat & clean. If you’ve ever been to an air show, you know there is dust blowing everywhere, not to mention that the nature of the sport is conducive to attracting dirt & grease.

When I rode & competed in horse shows as a teenager, I could never keep clean. In English riding we wore white long-sleeved shirts to show our horses. I would literally get out of the truck to unload my horse from the trailer & my shirt would be streaked with dirt. I learned to wear a sweatshirt, zipped up to my neck from the moment I left the house in the morning until I was ready to take if off, put on my riding coat & mount up. Even then it just seemed like dirt had this uncanny knack to seek me out no matter how careful I tried to be.

Unfortunately, as I’ve aged it hasn’t gotten much better. I still end up with dirt on me – even when I’m not in a situation that caters to getting dirty. I’ve taken to carrying Shout wipes in my purse so that when I’m out & about, I can at least clean myself up. And Lord help me if I eat something chocolate. I invariably drop a tiny piece on my clothing that goes unnoticed until later when there is suddenly a brown spot on my blouse or pants. In fact that very thing happened with a new turquoise top a few weeks ago. That Shout is great stuff, I highly recommend it!

I do own one pair of white pants which I bought really cheap at Ross. In the likely event that I ruined them I didn’t want to make a big investment. I normally save my white capris to wear on cruises. That way I can work at staying clean as I sit on deck doing nothing & pretending that I am one of those women who dirt avoids like the plague. I have no idea how the dirt knows who it had better leave alone & who it can mess with, but it does.

The reason this all came to mind is because I made a lunch date with a friend this past week. I have a brand new pair of light peach crop pants that I wore for the first time. They were purchased with Kohl's coupons & only $4 out of pocket precisely because of the aforementioned likelihood of ruining them due to the light color. Plus I love a good bargain, but that is a whole other post topic.

Anyway, prior to lunch, I went to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping. I loaded my bags into the trunk of my car, opened the door & slid into the driver’s seat. I looked down & there were streaks of black dirt on both legs of my new peach pants! “Son of a bitch!”, I exclaimed. Actually, I said something much worse but you get the idea. J

Fortunately, I was able to get it all off once I was back home. But I have no clue where I got that dirt on me. I suppose I brushed up against something – or it could be that dirt just loves to screw with me since it is so easy. Either way, now that I’m in my sixties, I seriously doubt it will be changing anytime soon. And I did manage to stay clean throughout our Mexican food lunch which was quite an accomplishment. 

HOT FLASHES

“I fell in to a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down & the flames went higher.” If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Johnny Cash was singing about the bane of pretty much every woman who is in the second half of her life – hot flashes.

Oh, my goodness – where to start? These lovely little reminders of menopause have been living with me for the past 18 years. At the age of 45, I noticed an occasional little burst of warmth that quickly spread throughout my body then dissipated. I remember thinking at the time, “Ah, a hot flash. This isn't so bad.” Oh, you silly woman, just wait. My mother suffered (mostly in silence) from hot flashes after a hysterectomy at age 39 until her death at age 60.

Women of a generation or two past seemed to have been taught that you don't mention hot flashes or “the change of life”, you just suffer quietly as you sweat & turn red & die of the heat. Lou mentioned recalling his mother having to pull the car to the side of the road until a hot flash passed. Fortunately, my generation freely discusses all the uncomfortable, crazy symptoms of menopause. Yes, we even use the word with abandon now.

As the years passed, the intensity of the hot flashes grew. Turtlenecks & pullover sweaters became a thing of the past. Any woman who has experienced intense hot flashes knows that you are inclined to rip off any hot, constrictive clothing before even looking to see who might be in the room. Hopefully, you won't knock anyone over on your way to the freezer for some cooling relief.

My sister, Karen, went through menopause about the same time I did even though she is 5 years younger than me. Our friend, Deb, was also dealing with it simultaneously. Years ago, we were together at Karen's house one evening – either one, two or all three of us were having a hot flash at any given moment! It really was comical. I don't know how women got through it without joking & laughing & sharing. A good sense of humor is imperative for survival.

A few years later the night sweats & instant heat surges started. It still boggles my mind how your body temperature can spike up to 108 degrees (yes, they say it can go that high!) in a matter of seconds. But since it drops just as quickly, I suppose that's why it doesn't kill you. At their worst, I lost count of the number I'd have per day – it was upwards of 20 or 30. I could think about them & bring them on, but I'll be damned if I could ever figure out how to think myself into preventing or stopping them.

Summers were the worst since it was already hot outside. A hot flash on top of 100 degree heat is not pleasant in the least. About the only thing hot flashes were good for was on winter nights. If you're like me, you have to get up to pee pretty much every night. In winter it is really cold getting out of bed & staggering into the bathroom. BUT I discovered that if you just waited for the next hot flash then got up, the cool night air felt wonderful!

When my periods finally stopped at age 51, I assumed the hot flashes would taper off, too. Wrong! I'm still getting the damn things fairly regularly 12 years later. Sometimes they will be worse for awhile & sometimes they almost go away for a few weeks, but so far, they always reappear. They don't seem so bad anymore, but then maybe I've just gotten used to them as a way of life. A few women in their 70s have told me not to count on ever having a climate controlled body again. Oh, fun!

Younger women are sympathetic but have no idea just how intense the heat from a hot flash can be. And men seem to instinctively know that they had better not ever minimize the effect of hot flashes on our sanity or we will turn on them in an instant. On occasion Lou will be in the office with our computers generating extra heat in the summer. He will take off his shirt & complain how hot he is - I smile & say, "Welcome to my world!"

I REALLY envy those few women who have made it through menopause & never had a hot flash or who say, “Mine only lasted a few months & weren't that bad.” You keep your mouth shut & smile but your brain is thinking, “Lucky bitch!”

A GREAT DAY IN GAGA LAND

On the emotional scale, I definitely lean toward the more rather than less end. It doesn't take much to bring tears to my eyes. I even cry at those Folger's coffee commercials on TV that they show every Christmas. Anything emotional with kids or animals has me teary-eyed. A friend gave me the book “Chicken Soup for the Grandma's Soul” but I have only read a small part of it since I end up in tears every time I pick it up. :-) 

A column in our newspaper this morning started off with this line: “Life has its ups and downs, but it's important to remember – and appreciate – moments of intense happiness.” Ain't that the truth? Last week I had one of those days (not just a moment!) of intense happiness.

This past Tuesday I was able to spend several hours doing two of my most favorite things – visiting & playing with my granddaughter in the morning AND talking with my son on the phone for two hours that night during his long drive home from the airport. Yep, it was a great day in Gaga Land. The “good emotions” of the day had me welling up with tears a few times.

I take every opportunity to visit my sweet little Charley Ellen. We had our usually fun time of dancing, playing, reading, etc. When it was time for me to leave, I kissed Charley & said, “Good-bye.” She said, “Bye, Gaga.” I replied, “I love you. Can you say ‘I love you’?” She smiled at me & quietly said, “I love you.” Talk about melting my heart! Hearing her say those three little words was incredible! I couldn't stop grinning until I was halfway home.

Charley’s daddy, (my son, Darrin) had been in Germany on business for 9 days. He was flying into San Francisco arriving at 7:40 PM on Tuesday evening. He had emailed me from the airport in Hamburg, Germany, that morning. I replied telling him to call me on his trip home & we could chat for a bit. They live about 140 miles from SFO so he was looking at a 2-1/2 hour drive home. After a long transcontinental flight, I knew a little distraction would be welcome.

Darrin & I are great friends. We are never at a loss for something to talk about. Since he was a teen-ager we've had a tradition of sharing 2-3 hour fast food lunches (usually at Taco Bell or McDonalds) where we converse nonstop. One of the greatest joys of my life is having such a wonderful relationship with my son. Now that he is a husband & parent our lunches aren't as frequent but we still make time to get together every few months, just the two of us.

About an hour after his plane landed, I received a text saying he was in the shuttle to pick up his car after retrieving his luggage & clearing customs. About 9:15 PM my cell phone rang. It was Darrin!

He was excited & eager to tell me all about his trip. Even though he’d been traveling for close to 24 hours with airport wait times & connections, he sounded awake & alert for his long drive home. I listened to every detail of his trip which included a couple extra days to sightsee & explore Hamburg on his own. As long as he wanted to talk I was more than willing to listen. He told me he was armed with a Monster energy drink & a Snickers bar if he started getting sleepy.

BUT we talked for TWO HOURS so neither was needed! I could feel my own exhilaration knowing my son still enjoys my company & knowing that I helped end his long trip on a high note as he talked a mile a minute. Sure there were a couple of dropped calls & several times when the reception cut in & out but we just called back & kept on talking.

I know from my drives to their house that just past Auburn, the cell phone service goes away. When he told me at 11:20 PM that he saw the Auburn, 2 miles, sign I knew we only had a few minutes left. But by then he was less than 10 minutes from home. For the second time that day, I sat there for a long time with a smile on my face after we signed off.

Any day that I can begin with a visit to my adorable granddaughter who tells me she loves me for the first time & ends with a two hour conversation with my wonderful son on a long drive late at night (who also tells me he loves me) is a great day in Gaga Land for sure!

That newspaper column ended with this statement: “Every now and then, we should all try to give in to our moments of pure love and happiness.” This is me, again – I most definitely second that emotion! That's exactly what I did & it doesn't get any better than this!

SMART PHONES, DUMB PEOPLE & COMPUTERS

I am doing my best to sort of stay in this century technologically. It seems that those of us who still actually sit at a desktop computer to answer our emails are fast becoming dinosaurs. Now days you must have a smart phone or a tablet to answer email, use apps, check Facebook & surf the web. Although my guess is that it is no longer cool to say “surf the web”.

How is it that my granddaughter, Charley, seemed to be born knowing how to work a smart phone? At one year old, she instinctively knew how to swipe her finger across the touch screen to change it. She holds the phone with both hands & “texts” gibberish with her thumbs - & she is not even two yet! At a baseball game on TV, a father caught a foul ball for his small child. The boy took out a smart phone & started texting. The announcer said, “He's texting Mom. He's six years old & can work a smart phone better than me.”

Several months ago I decided to take the leap & bought a smart phone. After a long lunch with my son, Darrin, who taught me the basics of using “apps”, & downloading a 200 page user manual, I was ready to learn. I wasn't going to let this 63 year old brain get the better of me. But what the hell? Two hundred pages to work a phone? Come on.

Now about six months later, I really do see the benefits of this device. I can check & send email almost anywhere, see who's posting what on Facebook, & I even know how to work the GPS. I can just speak my destination & it finds it – how cool is that? If Lou says, “I wonder if Ronnie Lott is in the Football Hall of Fame?”, I can pull out my phone & tell him “yes” in a matter of minutes. I am able to text at maybe ¼ the speed of the average teenager BUT I rarely use abbreviations or shortcuts or eliminate vowels, just an old lady thing I guess.

About the only thing these phones don't do really well is make a telephone call. I've had more dropped calls & poor sound quality with this one than I ever did with my old flip phone.

Since I have learned to work my cheapy Android phone to my satisfaction (even though I probably use 1/100^th of its capabilities), I started thinking about upgrading to a newer computer operating system. I've been using Windows XP for a zillion years & really would love to keep it since it's familiar & does everything that I need it to do. But Bill Gates & company, in their infinite wisdom, have decided that we all have to move on. I recently discovered that XP will no longer be supported by Microsoft in a few months. Sigh...

My reasoning for upgrading was similar to getting the smart phone – if I don't learn it now, I may never learn it. And I don't want to end up like my dad who at 84 years old can barely work a cordless touch tone phone with a built in phonebook.

I can maneuver my way around a computer pretty well but apparently I got a little cocky when I ordered a new mini laptop with Windows 8. Yikes! Windows 8 is nothing like my tried & trusted Windows XP. Windows 8 is “app based” but I was determined to learn it & not drive my son crazy in the process. I found tutorials online, joined a forum to ask questions & downloaded another 200 page user manual. Isn't there anything technology-wise that can be explained in 50 pages or less???

Every day for about a week, I put my new hot pink netbook (that's what they call a mini laptop these days) on a TV tray beside my desktop. That way I could read things online or in the manual then turn my chair 90 degrees & try them on my laptop. My brain could only handle about an hour before it turned to mush but I was learning a fair amount. Unfortunately, I also learned that very little between Windows 8 & Windows XP is compatible.

The main reason I bought the laptop was to have something really lightweight (less than 3 pounds) so I could write when we travel & be able to swap photos & documents between my two computers. It sounded like an easy enough plan in my head but apparently it isn't. I'm currently in the regrouping mode while I figure out how to proceed. Damn you, Microsoft, don't make it so hard for us old people!

OLD LADY SKIN

DISCLAIMER: For all you guys out there, this contains some rather explicit descriptions of aging female body parts - so read on at your own risk! 

What is the deal? You wake up one morning & you suddenly have “old lady” skin. If you are over 60 you know exactly what I mean, you rotate your arm a bit & there they are – tons of little tiny wrinkles. What used to be a smooth attractive arm (just wait, Michele Obama) now resembles something that looks like uncooked chicken skin. And it seems to come on quickly, almost appearing overnight.

If you twist your arm just so, hold it really still & tilt your head at a certain angle you can still create the appearance of almost smooth skin. But, alas, you can't walk around looking like a robot with your arms stiffly stuck out from your sides & your neck craned sideways.

It took me several tries to make sure the old lady skin didn't show too badly on my arms & neck in the photo to the right.  One more thought – don't ever, ever look down into a mirror, you will see your grandmother's neck & chin staring back at you. It will scare the crap out of you!

And, oh Lord, the boobs! Even just 10 years ago I had perky, little boobs that we referred to as a nice handful. When I was much younger we had the “pencil test” to determine if you needed to wear a bra. If you placed a pencil cross-wise below your breast & it stayed put, you needed a bra. If it fell to the floor, you were good to go braless.

To my delight for most of my life, the pencil clattered to the floor. But I tried it last week just for the hell of it & the damn thing was really lodged under there. It took a lot of jumping & bouncing to knock it loose. Geez!

When I play with my almost two year old granddaughter, Charley, we sing a song about a dog with droopy ears. It’s a catchy tune & some of you may remember it.

Do your ears hang low?

Do they wobble to and fro?

Etc., etc., etc.

Well, every time I hear it, I want to substitute “boobs” for “ears”:

Do your boobs hang low?

Do they wobble to and fro?

Can you tie ‘em in a knot?

Can you tie ‘em in a bow?

Do your boobs hang low?

Unfortunately, now that there is a little more to my boobs & they can actually be pushed together to create cleavage, (something new to me!), all those little chicken skin wrinkles show up in force on my chest. 

But, you know the best part? I wouldn't change this wonderful time in my life with my granddaughter & her parents & my partner & my family & friends & traveling for all the smooth skin & perky boobs in the world! I've earned every single one of these wrinkles!

ADVENTURES IN PASTA

Throughout much of my life, cooking has never been one of my strong points. Actually, that is probably an understatement. For much of my adult life, I pretty much hated cooking & wasn't too good at it. In my younger days I could have eaten out everyday! In fact, I negotiated with my ex-husband, who enjoyed cooking, that I would do all the cleaning, laundry & most of the yard work if he would cook dinner every night.

These past 15 years or so, I've changed (for whatever reason) to where I don't mind cooking at all. I certainly can't say that I love it, but most days it is somewhat enjoyable. I begin by always cooking with wine – and by that I mean, I pour myself a glass of wine before I start! If I could only see my sports on TV from our kitchen, while preparing dinner, maybe I would learn to love it.

I'm far from a gourmet cook, but Lou is so easy to please that at times he makes me feel like one. Honestly, I could feed that man most anything & he would never complain. A couple times my experiments have caused me to take a bite & say, “Yuck! That's awful,” but Lou would simply say, “It's okay, it's not that bad”. I've discovered that when you cook for someone who genuinely appreciates your effort, it no longer seems like such a chore.

So, last night I'm making dinner – whole grain pasta roni to which I was adding chicken & crumbled bacon. Yes, I do still cut corners using boxes & cans but I add my own touches. Hey, if it requires heat, it's cooking in my book. Anyway, the chicken was cooking on the stove, the bacon was in the microwave & the water was just about to boil. The opened box of pasta was sitting on the counter. I turned around quickly, hit the box & knocked it onto the floor. It didn't just spill, pasta shells went everywhere! They literally flew all over the kitchen floor!

I stood there with my mouth open for a few seconds, uttered a few choice swear words, then made a quick decision. They were going to be boiled for 14 minutes – I was sure that would kill any germs. Plus I would rinse them off in the colander first so I decided to pick them up & use them since I didn't have any more. I know, I know, I shouldn't be telling you this – you'll never come to dinner at my house if you're invited.

Lou comes in a minute later & says, “What was that noise?” I'm sitting on the floor amidst hundreds of pasta shells carefully picking them up & replied, “That was me knocking the box of pasta on the floor. But I made an executive decision. Since they'll be rinsed & boiled, I'm picking them up & we're going to eat them.” To his credit, he squatted down, started picking up shells, kissed me & said, “Well, I just vacuumed in here yesterday so there shouldn't be much cat hair.” I do love that man!

Dinner tasted fine & neither of us got sick so I'm guessing my theory that 14 minutes of boiling neutralized any germs was correct. Instead of the 3 second rule, it was more like the 5 minute rule. :-) Cooking is always an adventure! How about you, any similar stories?

THE BIRTH OF GAGA MUSINGS

A few evenings ago after scrolling through all 200 of our channels – TWICE – I settled on “Keeping Up With The Kardashians”. It was the first time I had ever watched that TV show. About half way through watching assorted rich & pampered people relaxing on a yacht in Greece complaining about anything & everything, I thought, “What the hell? There has to be something better to do with my time.”

That night in bed (I do some of my best thinking in the middle of the night), the idea came to me – write another blog. For the past three years I've written my “Travels Near & Far” blog which is primarily focused on all sorts of travel - hence the name. As some of you know travel & photography are two of my passions. My new blog idea was to just explore light-hearted thoughts, ideas or whatever may come to the mind of a woman with 63 years under her belt. I wondered if it might be of interest or start a dialogue with other women in the second halves of their lives. By morning, “Everyday Musings of a 60-Something Grandma” was born!

But I made some self-imposed rules for “Everyday Musings”:

1. NO POLITICS! This blog will have absolutely no political agendas.

2. A little bitching, venting & whining (& wining, as in a glass of) are definitely allowed.

3. Keep it light & fun – there is enough bad stuff every night on the news.

4. Stay off the soapbox – except for once in awhile.

5. Swearing or cursing is permitted if used in the correct context.

6. Try to post something every week.

I am Kathy Silver, a 63 year old grandma to Charley Ellen, my unbelievably adorable granddaughter who will be two in October & who I am able to visit on a weekly basis. She is the light of my life! I have recently been named “Gaga” by Charley & I love it! If I knew how fantastic having a grandchild would be I'd have been bugging my son & daughter-in-law to give me one for years!

The rest of the players in my immediate world are as follows:

Lou – my wonderful partner, other half, husband equivalent & travel companion of 12 years.

Darrin – my only child, the most incredible son a woman could ask for & the best daddy ever.

Allison – my beautiful daughter-in-law who is an amazing mom & my friend, too.

Karen – my younger sister who has turned into a trusted friend & confidant in our later years.

My dad, Ron – a great man but since my mother died & his health has declined he makes raising my son seem like a walk in the park.

Enough said for now. Let's get started.