TIME TO GET REAL

Some people have a difficult time throwing old clothes out - that's not me! When I get in the mood, it doesn't take long to rifle through my closet tossing things out right & left. Especially now that I know all the shopping secrets from Ross or Kohl's, it is easy to chuck the old, out of date clothes since I know I can easily & inexpensively replace them. When I run out of hangers, I know it is time for spring, summer, fall or winter cleaning!

This past Saturday morning I tackled my jeans & crop pants drawers. I am 65 years old & don't look half bad (for an old lady!) BUT I don't look like I did when I was 40, or hell, even 50. Not to mention that there are a few more pounds of "junk in the trunk" to deal with. :-)

As I started sorting through all my pants, I realized there were a few pairs that probably dated back 20 years! I was at a loss as to why I was hanging on to some of them since I will never wear them again in this lifetime - even if they did fit, which over half of them didn't. I suppose that somewhere in my twisted mind I was hanging on to the fact that maybe, just maybe, someday I would magically lose 15 pounds & the zippers would just glide up easily. Time to get real, girl!  Ain't gonna happen!

There were even a couple pairs of old jeans that were a size 6 - SIZE 6?? What the hell? I honestly don't ever recall wearing a size 6 past age 25 - long before menopause & senility set in. Those went in the give away pile without even attempting to squeeze my butt into them. I am certainly not that much of a glutton for punishment.

Most of them that joined the size 6s in the Goodwill pile were just a little too tight or way out of style. One of the benefits & pleasures of being 65 is that I no longer wear clothes that aren't comfortable & restrict my breathing. My days of wearing jeans that look great but cut into me at places I really don't want to be cut into are long gone. Not to mention that tight hip-hugger, low cut jeans just don't look good on anyone older than 16 & weighing more than 95 pounds. A 65 year old "muffin top" is not even a little bit flattering.

There were even a few that could only be called bell bottoms back in my era - AKA the 60s. I suppose now they are termed "boot cut" - but since I don't even own a pair of cowboy boots & haven't ridden a horse in a couple of decades, there wasn't any good reason to hang on to them either.

Before our trip last month, I headed to Ross on a Tuesday (10% senior discount day!) to look for new jeans. I hit the jackpot finding 3 pairs that look & fit really good - for less than $50 total including tax! The waist is actually at my waist & they are snug but not too tight. Thank you Gloria Vanderbilt for realizing that some of us are real women, not petite little teen-agers. Plus I have 2 pairs of "jeggings" from last year that work perfectly with long tops & boots so I am set for the upcoming winter.

All in all, I ended up chucking around 30 pairs of pants & about 15 tops. I did save 5 pairs of denim pants that still fit & I might wear at some point. But I am really proud of myself since I am down to 10 pairs of jeans & I have at least 15 empty hangers!

Guess what I'm going to do this afternoon? Yep, I'm heading to Kohl's with my coupon to start finding more bargains to fill up those hangers! Woo Hoo!

IT'S OFFICIAL, GAGA IS A PUSHOVER

Due to circumstances beyond my control (which have turned out to have a bit of silver lining), I am getting to spend a lot more time with Charley lately. Twice in the past week, I've taken her for the day to visit, run errands, go shopping & have lunch. She even told Daddy to show me how to fasten the car seat straps "because Gaga has trouble with it". She's right, Gaga does have trouble with it sometimes, but I'm improving.

It seems that we really enjoy our time together & Charley has figured out that Gaga is a total pushover when it comes to buying her stuff. When we did my dad's shopping together last week I bought her a few little things - a tiny doll with long blue hair, some pom-poms (on the clearance table) that fell apart two days later & a little plastic Olaf whose head opens up to reveal a small sucker. I've spent days looking for more little suckers to refill it - finally found them so now she is good to go. And, just a side note, that kid can spot Frozen stuff from way across the store!

I've been on a mission to make a CD to play in my car with Charley's favorite songs. Her three biggies are "All About That Bass", "Shake It Off" & "Let It Go". I'd downloaded "Let It Go" to my iPod last year to learn the words. But it seems that iPods are now technological dinosaurs & downloading one song without signing up for a continual service is not easy. Everything now involves the "Music Cloud" & if you are older than 16, you have no idea what or where it is. Plus I hadn't used my iTunes account since I bought my new computer. I spent hours the other night & I'm not real sure how I did it, but I finally had a CD with those three songs & several other catchy girl songs on it! Hooray, Gaga!

Yesterday I took her for the day & put the CD on as soon as we got in the car. That little girl knows every word to those three songs & she just belts them out as she sings along! Her enthusiasm really is contagious. We played them at least 5 or 6 times in our travels. I have to figure out a way to get a video of her singing along.

One of our stops was at Kohl's where I had a $5 off reward & a 30% discount coupon. My intention was to let her pick a couple of long tops that she likes & maybe a pair of leggings. When she spotted the fancy Disney dresses, all bets were off. Please, please, please, Gaga! She HAD to have one! Gaga did the math - $35 originally, on sale for $21, less $5, then 30% off made it $11.20 - how could I deny her a beautiful dress that she loved?

The blue Cinderella one looked lovely but it was a size too large & there weren't any smaller ones. She also thought the purple Sofia one was gorgeous. We went to the fitting room & tried them both on. The Cinderella one was indeed too big & didn't fit right, but the Sofia one was beautiful. We both liked it best so I said, "Okay, Gaga will buy it for you." Being a pushover has the most incredible rewards when you see the pure joy in an almost four year old's eyes!

As we walked to the register in the front of the store carrying her Sofia dress, the loudspeaker began playing "Shake It Off". Charley started singing along with Taylor Swift & I joined her:

"The players gonna play, play, play, play, play

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off"

We got several smiles from other shoppers as we walked hand in hand down the aisle singing & dancing away. Oh, did I mention we were wearing our matching giant spider glow-in-the-dark necklaces that Gaga bought, too? 

REST IN PEACE, YOGI

Late last night, I heard the news that baseball great, Yogi Berra, had passed away at 90 years of age. It elicited a sad, prolonged, "Awwww," from my lips.

Most of his baseball success was as the catcher for the New York Yankees. Now, I've never been a Yankees fan -  in fact, along with the Los Angeles Dodgers - they are the teams I love to hate the most! However, I was most definitely a Yogi Berra fan, not just for his baseball but for his wit & wisdom off the field.

His baseball statistics were pretty amazing for a 5'7", 185 pound catcher. In today's world that is considered tiny & he'd have a tough time even getting a chance in the major leagues. Yogi played 19 years as a catcher & part time outfielder. He has 10 World Series rings & 3 MVP awards to his credit. His lifetime batting average was .285 - pretty damn good!

But his mental process was legendary & had everyone scratching their heads as their minds tried to make sense of his words. There was even a word coined to describe his strange but thought-provoking statements - "Yogi-isms".

Here are a few of my favorites:

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it!"

"Ninety percent of the game is half mental."

"It's deja vu all over again."

"Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."

"A nickel ain't worth a dime anymore."

"Better make it six, I can't eat eight," when asked if he wanted his pizza cut in 6 or 8 slices.

And, of course, the one that virtually everyone has quoted at some point in their lives, "It ain't over, 'til it's over."

Well, Yogi, it's over. I know he had a brilliant baseball career, a wonderful personal life (married to Carmen for 65 years until her death last year) & my guess is that he knew EXACTLY what he was saying with all those seemingly crazy quotes.

Rest in Peace, Yogi - baseball & the world will miss you!

DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!

Feel free to substitute a word that begins with "F" & ends with "K" in the title if you are like me & can't stand big ass spiders!

The low tire pressure light came on in my car yesterday. It's a great invention but then you know the tires are low & have to deal with it immediately. I hate trying to use those stupid machines at a gas station to fill the tires. I can never get the hose to stay out so you try to stand on it leaving enough room to maneuver the end onto the stem. Then you must check it with a tire gauge since the ones on the air hose never work - or so I'm told.

Once you've wrestled the air hose into submission, lost a cap or two under the car & have fingers that resemble those of your mechanic with all the road dirt & grease, if you are lucky, you have properly inflated tires. Since it seems to be such an ordeal for me, I usually choose to do it at home. We have a electric tire inflater that at least makes all of the above issues a bit more manageable. Plus you aren't under the gun because the damn machine will turn off in three minutes.

Okay, that's the set up - I go out to the garage this morning to check all the tires & sure enough a couple are several pounds low. As I stand up from my left rear tire, I come face to face with a Black Widow spider! She was about 1-1/2 inches long, shiny black with a bright red spot & sitting in a web in the corner of the garage. "Damn it!", I yelled (among other things) as I jumped backward into my car.

With my heart pounding I took a minute to figure out how to kill it. For the record I HATE killing spiders but I hate live ones roaming my house & garage more. And also for the record, I do believe that men should have to kill the spiders. But my man was out volunteering at the Railroad Museum today so I was on my own.

I found the bug spray & sprayed the shit out of that nasty thing. It barely moved so I figured it must be dying. I took the shovel to scoop it out of the web & take it out front, far away from me. The damn thing started running all over. I tried in vain to smash it with the shovel but other tools & things prevented me from getting a direct hit. Of course, I am swearing a blue streak that would rival any longshoreman. Finally I stunned it enough to where I could get it on the end of the shovel - I held the extreme end of the handle - & took it out to the front lawn.

When I set it down, it gained it's second wind & started running all over again. Now, I had a clear shot & smashed it about ten times with the shovel. Finally it looked like it was immobilized. And it was at least 8 - 10 feet from where I was working on my tires. I glanced around to make sure that no one was looking. They'd have thought I was a crazy woman for sure.

My next order of business was to calm down & let my heart rate return to some semblance of normal - it must have been beating 200 times a minute. Damn, damn, damn, I hate spiders! It is now half an hour later, my tires are at the recommended pressure, there is one less Black Widow living in the garage & my body is just about back to its normal functioning.

I have heard that hair spray will immobilize a spider so you can kill it but I didn't think of that in the heat of the moment. I just wanted poison & something hard & long to hit it with. Still not sure why in the overall scheme of things a pretty tiny spider can instill such fear in a full grown woman - but from my conversations with friends, male & female, I know I am not alone! 

THE WALMART ADVENTURE

I learned long ago that you must be in the right frame of mind before attempting to shop at WalMart. You cannot be in a hurry...you cannot be upset with people blocking the aisles...you cannot expect exemplary customer service....AND you certainly cannot expect an answer as to why they have 26 cash registers & only 8 are open no matter how busy.

But all of that being said, they do offer all kinds of products at really good prices. Maybe someday I'll have enough money to avoid tackling shopping at WalMart. In the meantime, I prefer to steel myself for the WalMart experience & save my hard earned cash for the finer things in life...like lunches out & buying my granddaughter all sorts of fun things.

Today I ventured out to WalMart to do my dad's shopping. My guess is that I'm just naturally frugal & don't have it in me to spend anyone's money foolishly. I consciously told myself to simply be polite, smile at people & make the best of the situation. It has become a challenge to me to shop at WalMart without uttering more than a couple of curse words.

With my basket full I went in search of a short line. Fortunately, it was midday & I found an open register with two people ahead of me who had all of their items on the belt. I pulled my cart up to unload my items but there weren't any of the little bars that divide your purchases from the person in front of you. Why are there never enough of those things? It can't cost that much to put 3 or 4 at every register, can it? Finally the woman in front of me pulls the only stick from in front of her items & puts it behind them. I smiled & thanked her.

All of my items were safely on the belt & I began to interact with the woman & the checker. Suddenly they realized her bathroom soap holder had no price tag. The woman looked at me & said, "Oh, no, I'm that customer from hell who holds up the line." I smiled. She told the checker she would go grab another one. As she left she said, "My wallet is on the thing where you write checks." The checker smiled at me & said, "We'll split it."

In the meantime the checker couldn't figure out how to remove the security thing from a blood pressure meter. By the time the woman returned with a new soap holder, the checker was two registers down getting help. The woman again apologized & I said, "No problem. I'm not in any hurry." We also discussed her knee surgery 3 weeks ago & how great she was doing. Finally the checker returns, finishes her order & as she slides her card through the machine it falls off in her hands! I'm pretty sure it is a design flaw since I've noticed most of them are held together with rubber bands & tape.

It must have read her card okay because it spit out her receipt. As she turned to leave she smiled at me saying, "I'm really sorry. Usually I'm the one who is standing where you are waiting for them to figure things out." I thought, yeah, tell me about it.

The card reader had come unplugged & no one could figure out how to hook it back up & attach it to the holder. I thought about suggesting using rubber bands but decided against it. The checker reached over & turned on the dreaded flashing light. Oh, no...it could be forever until a supervisor appeared to fix it. I made the decision to start putting all of my items back in the cart & move to another cashier. Halfway through doing that, the checker exclaims, "I think I've got it!" But it fell off in her hands once again.

With everything back in my cart, I moved a few registers down & may have cut someone off who was leisurely strolling to the checkout...but at that point my sunny attitude was wearing thin & I just wanted out of there. Putting all of my items BACK on the belt, I said "hi" to Dalton, a young man who seemed to enjoy talking much more than scanning items. After what seemed like an eternity all of my dad's purchases were bagged, in the cart & paid for...hallelujah! I had survived WalMart once again!

AMERICAN NINJA WARRIOR

Back in the day I was never a huge fan of “wrestling”. I’m not talking about the collegiate type competitions but the rock ‘em, sock ‘em, throw 'em across the ring, kick your butt type wrestling that was on every Friday night. But, I will admit to knowing who Hulk Hogan, Rowdy Roddy Piper & Haystack Calhoun were. J

In fact, I still remember getting a kick out of one Mother’s Day telecast when the Junkyard Dog tried to put a folding chair in the ring so his mama could watch him compete up close & personal. The gimmicks & unbelievable stunts were pretty hard to believe. At the risk of upsetting & offending anyone, I never really accepted it as a legitimate sport.

For the past several years, there has been a new, much more genuine competition called “American Ninja Warrior” that has captured me hook, line & sinker. It is an obstacle type course developed specifically to test the strength, agility & endurance of athletic men & women. Apparently, there is a televised competition in Japan, called “Sasuke”, of which “American Ninja Warrior” is a spin-off.

I recall seeing it a few times when Charley was just a tiny baby which makes that over three years ago. The year before last I watched quite often. And last year, I was totally hooked. The new season of American Ninja Warrior just started a couple weeks ago. Every Monday evening I am glued to the TV anxiously awaiting the latest attempts of athletes to conquer the various obstacles.

I don't know what it is but there is something about this competition that is downright addicting. Although many are quite flamboyant & have a range of gimmicks, these competitors are regular people. There are ER doctors, ranchers, tax accountants & my favorite - a TV weatherman.

The qualifying rounds in several cities include six obstacles with names like the “salmon ladder”, the “quintuple steps”, the “jumping spider” & the “warped wall”. The warped wall seems to knock out the most competitors. It is a curved 14 foot vertical wall that contestants must run up taking just a few steps, grab the top & pull themselves over. Spectators chant, “Beat that wall, beat that wall,” to encourage would be American Ninja Warriors.

The top qualifiers from several cities move on to the regional finals where a few more obstacles are added to the course. The developers are constantly adding new & different obstacles while retaining the fan favorites. The winners of the regional finals move on to the four stages of “Mt. Midoriyama” in Las Vegas.

An interesting fact is that men & women of all ages & sizes compete equally on the courses. Nothing is altered or changed for the women.  Until last year no woman had ever made it up the “warped wall”. Remember this is 14 feet straight up with a slight curve at the bottom. The commentators tell me it is all technique but it seems pretty damn hard, too.

Last year the amazing Kacy Catanzaro, a 24 year old, 5 foot tall, 100 pound former gymnast became the first woman to complete the course & move on to the regional finals. Kacy is the girlfriend of long time Ninja Warrior, Brent Steffenson. Brent was eliminated early but cheered Kacy on like a real trooper.

The most incredible feat came when Kacy also completed the course (with the added obstacles) in the regional finals! I sat in front of the TV screaming like I do for football or basketball. She became the first woman to make it to Mt. Midoriyama but was eliminated in Stage 1 along with the majority of her male counterparts.

I highly recommend checking it out if you are even a little bit interested in competition or just vegging out in front of the TV - but be warned - you may become addicted. Here in Sacramento “American Ninja Warrior” is on Mondays at 8 PM on NBC. There is something about this show that sucks me in, then snatches me up to where I have become a huge fan & just can’t miss it. 

MY 1961 VOLKSWAGEN BUG

Lou just bought a brand new blue 2015 Mustang last week! It is a really cool car with all kinds of bells & whistles. It got us talking about all the cars we've owned in our lifetimes. Hands down, my craziest car ever was a used 1961 Volkswagen bug. Back then no one called them a beetle, they were VW bugs.

Since I didn't get my driver's license until my 16th birthday in March of 1966, it was about 10 years old when my ex-husband & I purchased it for $400. To trick it out a little, I bought one of those covers that laced around the steering wheel & spray painted the wheels lime green to make the black car stand out. If any of you ever owned an ancient VW, you know they were unique cars - & not necessarily in a positive way. Yes, they got good gas mileage & were super cheap but they also had numerous quirks & gimmicks that made driving a real adventure.

My favorite idiosyncrasy by far was the reserve gas tank. My little black bug didn't have a gas gauge. I guess the Germans in their infinite wisdom didn't see the need for a gauge when you had the reserve tank. This was a separate container next to the regular gas tank attached by some sort of hose or something. When the gas tank ran dry & the car began to sputter, you took your right foot & flipped a small metal lever on the floor near the gas pedal. This allowed the half gallon of gas in the reserve tank to flow into the main tank. You had to immediately start pumping the gas like mad to get the engine fired up again. And you had about 10 - 15 miles to find a gas station & fill up. A lovely invention!

Another feature that added to my anxiety was that there weren't door locks on the inside. If you wanted to lock the doors, it had to be done with your key from the outside. Wanting the safety of locked doors, I developed the habit of unlocking the door with my key then locking it again while it was open so when I was inside the door was locked. The interior door handle would open the door but it remained locked from the outside if closed again.

One morning on my way to work I grabbed a bag of garbage to chuck in the dumpster at the end of the parking lot. It was windy & raining as I jumped out to dump the garbage. In that couple of seconds, the door blew shut. Damn it, damn it, damn it - the car was running & I'm locked out getting drenched by the minute. My husband had already left for work with the extra key. Double damn it! Fortunately I noticed that the small triangle shaped wind wing (if you are too young to know what that is, Google it) was not locked. I was able to push it open, then using some contortionist skills managed to twist my arm far enough through the small window to grab the door handle. That afternoon I purchased a magnetic key holder, had an extra key made & hid it under the fender.

Speaking of driving that car in the rain, the wipers had one speed - approximately once every 4 - 5 seconds the tiny wipers would slowly swipe in front of my face. The windshield would immediately fog up in the rain. If it had a defroster, which I doubt, it didn't work. In the winter I kept a box of Kleenex in the front seat so I could grab one & wipe the inside of the windshield in order to sort of see out. Plus the heater was useless so I kept a small afghan in the car to cover up with in the cold. It's a wonder I never got in a wreck with that car, but I didn't.

If you have ever driven an old VW shifting it into reverse was a real art form. The small gear shift had to be pushed straight down, then moved to the left & up. You needed a great deal of strength to push that lever down. I developed a technique were I would slam it down hard with all my weight which sometimes worked. I can't remember how many times I looked behind me to back up only to have the car lurch forward since I wasn't in reverse. Hmmm, maybe that's where my habit of swearing profusely while driving started????

Years ago I recalled reading the requirements on a "Learn to Juggle" book. It said if you can find reverse in a Volkswagen you can learn to juggle. I decided right then & there I'd never be a juggler.

On a perfectly flat road you could eventually get the car up to 60 - 65 miles per hour but on a slight incline, the top speed was about 50. Good luck attempting to drive up a steep hill - you'd be in 2nd gear chugging along at about 10 mph. I had heard that people often put sand bags in the front trunk (engine was in the rear) to give the car more traction & weight. I was a believer after driving across the San Mateo Bridge one day when a gust of wind literally moved my car into the next lane! Scared the crap out of me!

We only had that car for a few years & it served its purpose of getting me to & from work. In hindsight I enjoyed the quirks & craziness of my black bug with the bright green wheels. But I was thankful to survive it & not at all sad to see it go when we upgraded to a brand new 1975 Volkswagen Rabbit when I found out I was pregnant!