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Archives for March 2018

#hertoo

March 19, 2018 By admin

I bumped into Eleanor Roosevelt the other day outside the Apple store. It looked like she was carrying the new iPad. No surprise there – the lady has a knack for connecting with people and texts and emails are great tools for that.

Elly, how goes it? What’s your take on #metoo and #timesup?

The battle for the individual rights of women is one of long standing and none of us should countenance anything which undermines it.

Amen to that sister. But do you think women can sustain the movement?

A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.

But the personal attacks that some women have experienced…

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

You certainly demonstrated that a first lady could have great influence.

As for accomplishments, I just did what I had to do as things came along. 

Sure, I can see that but you risked a lot when you spoke out about injustice, civil rights and the plight of the poor.

Do what you feel in your heart to be right- for you’ll be criticized anyway. You’ll be damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

Does it pain you to see what the political climate is now in America? 

Sometimes I wonder if we shall ever grow up in our politics and say definite things which mean something, or whether we shall always go on using generalities to which everyone can subscribe, and which mean very little. 

A lot of people are discouraged by our present polarization and want to opt out or disengage. 

Life must be lived and curiosity kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life. 

How do you stay so upbeat? Everyone wants to be happy but we don’t know how to get there.

Happiness is not a goal; it is a by-product.

It seems like everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame now, to go viral on the internet, to be recognized for something, anything. Do you see the downside to it all?

I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.

Funny. I’ve got to run but what’s the biggest lesson you learned from your experience?

I think that somehow, we learn who we really are and then live with that decision.

Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

Filed Under: FICTION

Tall Boy

March 19, 2018 By admin

The beer-bike race is a campus tradition that takes place just prior to spring break, when the end of the year is in sight and the Houston weather is begging you to be outdoors. Just barely interested in my freshman courses, I was eager to participate as one of the riders representing our dorm.

The event had been around since the introduction of the Schlitz 16-ounce beer can in the 1950’s. Each team fielded ten drinkers and ten riders. The tops of the cans were cut out for increased speed, but drinking that much beer in a hurry takes practice, and our team worked at it in the weeks leading up to the race. Somebody was always pushing the envelope for a personal best time.

The spectacle began with a gunshot, heads were thrown back, and representatives each drained a can of beer. Then a teammate would ride full-throttle into the first of the 90 degree turns required to circumnavigate the campus.

At the end of each lap, burly teammates would stand ready to jerk the exhausted rider off the bike, another teammate chugged another beer, while a new rider jumped on for the next lap. And so it did continue, the spectators screaming for their favorites, and the crashes were part of the entertainment. I was the first rider on our squad, and I managed to finish the course with a small lead.

We had chosen a student to ride the last leg for all the right reasons. Robert was almost 7 feet tall and had been captain of the football team that played in the Sugar Bowl. He was also a Rhodes Scholar and a serious competitor.

He was pulling away from the pack and only fifty yards from winning the race when the front tire blew out and sent him sprawling across the asphalt. He was hurt, but not so badly that he couldn’t pick up the demolished bicycle and carry it with him as he hobbled for the finish line still in first place.

That was a proud moment for the team and a good enough excuse to party like it was 1961. There was a young new President in the White House, Ricky Nelson sang “Hello, Mary Lou,” I had a girlfriend visiting for the weekend, and only a few people knew at that point what was about to happen to the country, to the music, or to the tradition.

Harpeth Rivers is a New Mexico transplant from all over who has in the last year written songs about isosceles triangles, played bass guitar in a band, and declared himself “Retro-eclectic.” His novel-in-progress is entitled Last Year.

Filed Under: FICTION

Looking for Money

March 19, 2018 By admin

My mother and I used to go for long walks, usually ending up at one of the strip malls that punctuated our southern California town. As we stood on the front porch ready to go, she’d lock the door, check it and recheck it before turning to me to share her time-honored parental advice: Remember. Look for money.

Seriously. Mom’s thing was to look for money as we walked, I guess because there was never enough. And the funny thing is – we usually found it! Scattered coins in the sidewalk cracks, a dollar blowing in the breeze. Once we found two $5 bills, and it was as though we’d won the lottery.

Sometimes we’d celebrate with a bite to eat at the dime store lunch counter. Was it J.J. Newberry or Woolworth’s? I can’t remember, and they’re both gone now. Mom got Jello because it wasn’t fattening. Grilled cheese for me because it was cheap.

Money was in short supply at our house, and perhaps that is why I grew up obsessed with making sure I had enough. And with this mindset, it’s easy to believe there will never be enough. No sacrifice to great, no cushion to thick – more money always wins.

Some baby boomers are reluctant to retire, in part because they haven’t saved enough and in part because they can’t give it up. Boomers say it’s the work they can’t give up, and I get that, because what we do for a living is part of our identity. But I also wonder if it’s the need to make money and the habit of spending money we can’t quite quit.

Only in the last few years did I begin to reconsider my relationship with money. I had a nice nest egg from years of saving, and that helped. But as I closed in on the concept of retirement, it occurred to me I could feel more secure with that nest egg if I spent less. You don’t need as much stuff as you think.

It is scary when the regular paychecks stop. I’m not super-frugal, and I’m not a financial whiz. Preparing for retirement was more about changing my mindset … believing I could live differently and gain back what we used to call a life. Time to sleep late, read, write and cook from scratch. Meet with friends, volunteer, maybe a little side hustle just in case.

I still love my long walks, and now I have time for them. Sometimes I enjoy a mindless loop, and other times I like walking toward a destination. There’s a little strip mall at the bottom of the hill, and I often think about stopping for a bite to eat. For now, I just keep going, occasionally scanning the grass that lines the sidewalk, looking for money.

Donna Pekar is an aging badass (for real) who lives in California and writes Retirement Confidential.

Filed Under: ESSAY

Spare Bedroom Match-ups

March 6, 2018 By admin

E  S  S  A  Y   Who knew? Millennials are enduring a housing crisis and baby boomers may hold the key…literally. As in the house key.

High rents and home prices are locking millennials out of affordable housing options. At the same time, boomers are sitting in houses with a lot of empty bedrooms. Real estate site Trulia is calling this a match made in housing market heaven. And they are calling these potential matches boom-mates.

By extrapolating from census data, Trulia estimates that there are around 3.6 million vacant bedrooms in the 100 largest U.S. metropolitan areas. Boomers want to remain in their homes and millennial renters are desperate for cheap rents.

If this sounds to you like the perfect scenario for a sit-com, I’m way ahead of you. The first pitch that comes to mind is a remake of Three’s Company. But instead of two girls and guy, the cast is made up of two boomers and a girl. The husband and wife boomers spend all their time reminiscing about Woodstock and looking up slang in the Urban Dictionary while the millennial is always walking around with earbuds and looking for the next big app.

If that doesn’t work for you, there’s Happy Days. Howard and Marion Cunningham, you may recall, did rent an upstairs room to The Fonz, so we’re not talking about a big leap here. In this remake, their millennial boarders do not have names like Fonzie or Chachi but the show would feature their struggle for respect in a world that constantly tries to diminish their ethos.

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? Street smart millennial from Philly moves in with wealthy boomers in LA where his sense of entitlement is a constant source of friction with the self-made couple. He doesn’t get their taste in music and they don’t get his music or really anything about him.

If taking in cash-strapped strangers sounds far fetched, let’s remember that it was not that long ago that a third to one half of 19th century urban residents in this country either took in boarders or were boarders themselves.

So is boom-mates really a thing? Is it really happening? Not so much. But it’s a safe bet that one of the sitcoms mentioned above is coming back to a TV in the common room where millennials and boomers can gather and share some laughs.

Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

Filed Under: ESSAY

Tongue in Cheek

March 6, 2018 By admin

Let’s assume for a moment that taste buds developed on human tongues, not for the purpose of expensive boutique food stores being able to charge fifteen dollars an ounce for Mapuche chili powder but, rather, to entice people to try a variety of foods. Thus, food tourism, Instagram, and literally thousands of new cookbooks being published, year after year, has seemingly not produced an overload of interest in all things food. Rather, we can’t seem to get enough of the world of Cuisine. The names of restaurants are lyrical and interesting. Who wouldn’t want to try “fud” (minimalist and hip) “Wolf Bar” (aimed at carnivores) “Mane St.” (for the horsey set) or Kidz Only (who pays the bill?) TV food shows are at the top of many ‘favorites’ lists and Amazon lights up whenever a new ingredient pops up in a recipe. It’s easy to be a foodie, or even a culinary genius, with practice and the “Buy with one click” button on our favorite online store.

So what’s the problem? None that I can see or taste unless I start to feel guilty using a vanilla bean that was hand-picked by a farmer in Madagascar, who won’t see but a fraction of the cost I pay. Or, with cows in abundance in the US, do we really need to import beef from Japan (delicious, that Wagyu!) that has to cross the Pacific, probably alive, then be killed here (TMI?) so as to be fresh when when it lands on our plates?

The much touted and/or maligned kale; varieties which include “dinosaur,” “walking stick” and “Russian,” all respond well to being massaged prior to eating. We read, “Lovingly rub the leaves with olive oil before adding to recipe” when prepping a meal, and it doesn’t strike us as unnecessary or crazy. We do it because the queens and kings of chefdom say to do it. When you post that Instagram of your “Native Grain with Pickled Mango and Lacinato (dino) Kale Salad” people expect that it has been massaged.

What to do then with finding out that Julia Child was a fan of the Big Mac and that when chefs get off work and gather in the early hours of the morning they might cook up sweet potato fries covered with nacho cheese, chili and crumbled Cheetos; and, oh yeah, a shot of single-malt scotch or a small-batch gin martini. The taste buds do not seem to mind.

Kim Kohler writes on the uncertainties of living in a liberal hot spot where everybody has an opinion, every opinion counts and nobody uses turn signals.

Filed Under: ESSAY

Talk to Me

March 6, 2018 By admin

We saw “Cell” recently – a scary and grim movie written by Stephen King. The protagonist was making his way through a Logan Airport terminal. Everyone was on their cell phones, which is normal these days. Suddenly everyone who had a cell phone up to their ear started foaming at the mouth, banging their heads against the wall, and attacking with murderous intent anyone within reach. After observing this connection, our protagonist thought twice about calling his ex-wife to arrange visitation with his son. He and the few survivors who weren’t rabid decided not to use their cell phones for anything.

This movie got me to wondering. How would younger generations fare without a cell phone attached to their heads?

We baby boomers often grew up with just one phone in the house. Ours was a rotary wall phone with a long cord, so one could walk away and have a private conversation. I know, a private conversation. How quaint.

I love my phone and the things it can do, but cells have changed our behavior in many ways, sometimes enslaving us.

  1. Shoppers in grocery stores cannot make up their minds which cereal to buy. Calls must be made to discuss the many options.
  2. Dates and get-togethers with friends cannot be endured without either a phone call or attempts to look at tiny pictures on a phone.
  3. Family meals, a thing of the past, do not include conversation, or lessons for children. Instead, everyone’s head is down, looking at their individual phones.
  4. Cell phone conversationalists walking down the street take no notice of traffic, a nice day, the scenery, or other walkers.
  5. Paying attention to the road while driving is, apparently, optional these days. Stupid phone calls questioning the driver as to what cereal to buy and other mundane ruminations must be answered at great peril to other drivers.
  6. Workers no longer fear the boss, but spend an inordinate amount of time texting, calling, and answering instead of working.
  7. Ex-spouses no longer stay in the shadows but call repeatedly and must be answered immediately so that the drama can be played out for everyone’s entertainment.
  8. Lunch dates and other arrangements are always flexible because the cell phone addicts can always call with a BS story about why they are late.

Is Stephen King saying we’re turning into monsters?

Lavinia M. Hughes lives in East Falmouth, MA and is keeping a close watch on her cell phone.

Filed Under: ESSAY

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