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Archives for May 2021

Paper Over It

May 19, 2021 By admin

Colorful gift boxesDon’t get me wrong (okay, get me wrong. I don’t care.). I find Apple Notes very useful for making To Do lists. But I’m not giving up on paper. There’s a lot of satisfaction to be had when you make a list and then cross things off on it. All those strike throughs add up to some genuine sense of accomplishment. Erasing items on an Apple Notes list isn’t quite the same.

And since we’re talking about the value of paper over digital, let’s not forget the page turning pleasure of a real book versus tapping a screen to get the next “page” on a Kindle or IPad. I can go with paper or digital depending upon the circumstances. Paper books require decent lighting and maybe that doesn’t work in some situations (airplanes, beds, cars, etc.). But you have to acknowledge that reading a book in a brightly lit easy chair or better yet, on a sunny porch or deck is still a special pleasure.

Journals anyone? There are still a lot of people keeping journals (I see you!) in notebooks and Moleskines who could easily find smart phone and tablet apps that are specifically made for that purpose. The apps do offer some special features such as the addition of digital photos, audio recording and links to social media. All very nice but not as special as writing it out longhand with an ink pen, and then storing that journal book in a drawer with many prior years’ journals.

Then there are the maps. People used to pore over a map before embarking on a trip. Remember AAA TripTiks? They still provide them but most people download the digital version from the AAA website. Now it’s just easier to dictate the address to your smart phone or car map app and let the anonymous voice tell you where to go and when to turn. That means you miss the entertainment value of seeing a paper version by which you can appreciate the neighborhoods, towns and states that might be passing through.

I can hear the digerati saying, “Think of the trees that are being saved by using digital devices instead of paper.” Fine. I’ll acknowledge the savings, but climate change is most likely killing them even faster, so in the end, the saving part is not so much.

In the meantime, let me know when there’s a digital wrapping paper to cover a birthday present.

Jay Harrison is a writer and creative consultant for DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

Filed Under: ESSAY

I’m Walkin’ Here

May 19, 2021 By admin

Moss Covered Stone WallAlthough I’ve been an avid walker for many years, Dale likes to run a couple of miles and get it over with quick. In the past, he’d walk only when he needed to catch his breath while running. I could rarely get him to accompany me on a walk – sometimes a hike through the woods, but that was rare.

Somewhere along the line he decided to start walking more. After all these years, it’s like a mini-miracle. We live in a neighborhood with all sorts of trails, although the maps leave something to be desired. As a solo woman walker, I’m careful and follow the advice shared with the two young lads in American Werewolf in London:

“Stay off the moors! Stick to the road.”

Of course, they didn’t stick to the road, and the rest is werewolf history. So far, I’m safe.

But Dale has been exploring. He came home all excited and said he wanted to take me on a hike that starts on an obscure trail near the end of our street. So that’s what we did yesterday. He said the narrow path was steep, and he didn’t get good traction with his running shoes, so he switched to hiking boots.

I wore my regular trail running shoes (even though I don’t run). I also took along some trekking poles to help with balance. They also take pressure off the knees.

The surprise came at the top of the ridge, where there was an old stone fence that seemingly stretched forever. Crusted with moss, we guessed the fence was more than 100 years old. Probably used to keep cattle from wandering off.

It looked like the trail continued down the ridge to connect with another trail I do frequent, but we weren’t sure and didn’t feel like hiking down there only to find ourselves with another uphill trek.

What a surprising walking buddy! I never saw it coming, although I will have to be careful and let it unfold at Dale’s pace. Note to self … this does not mean we start training for the Camino. Still, over the weekend we’re going to check out the maps and see if we can figure out where the trail goes. Or maybe we’ll just go for it.

Sometimes surprises are right around the corner. And just when you think you know a person, they change. Change is good.

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

 

Filed Under: ESSAY

Road Again

May 19, 2021 By admin

wing of airplaceOn the Road Again Willy Nelson sings in my head as I enter the airport, don my mask, and prepare to fly for the first time in 18 months. It’s a glorious day, and I’m headed to Florida to see my son, my daughter-in-law, and my two grandsons. For weeks leading up to this day, I’ve heard the jets both near and far in the sky and thought soon, by the grace of all that is good, go I. And now that day has arrived and my heart sings as I go through security in the early pre-dawn hour, take my seat on the cramped puddle jumper, and start the first leg of the journey.

When I arrive in Charlotte, the first thing I notice is that it doesn’t take as long as usual to taxi to the gate. Then, once inside, the crowd is thinner and most noticeably, many Starbucks are shuttered. I was counting on that tall cup of airport coffee to help me wake up and guide me through the layover. Instead, I find my gate, and take a seat in the waiting area at a spot remote enough to social distance, but close enough that I can engage in my favorite airport pastime – people watching. The passing crowd thickens over the next hour and I see the usual assortment of humanity, this time with the added various interpretations of mask wearing – some blatantly display their noses – some pull it down to talk to their family members. No matter, I decide. I’m vaccinated.

When the time comes to board the plane to Orlando, I gladly sit between two strangers surrounded by other strangers – an experience both ordinary and astounding after so long at home. It’s only when we are landing and I choke up when I’m sharing with the person next to me the purpose of my visit, that I realize what this means for me. For them too. My son – who is turning 40 and needs to talk about that with me – for my grandsons who at 8 and 10 still love to spend time with me – and for my daughter-in-law who has always welcomed me. Those days with them are glorious medicine for my heart and soul and a reminder of what truly matters. Now on to part two of my On the Road Again tour – a drive up to Philadelphia to visit my daughter.

Lee Stevens is a writer and a Weaver living in the mountains of western North Carolina. www.strawintogoldwriting.com

 

Filed Under: ESSAY

Yo Momma

May 5, 2021 By admin

car tire in streamHey, hey  – what the hell are you doing? I see you. Put that old tire down. Are you crazy? Who throws old tires down in the creek?

What? You think it’s going to melt? Biodegrade? Decompose? Are you nuts?

You throw an old tire in a creek and it’s gonna be there for a million years. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. Let’s just say it’s going to be there a long, long time. You think it’s going to magically rot away. Some biological organisms are going to eat it and it will disappear?

Fuggeddaboutit! There are no organisms that feed on rubber. So after ten thousands of years, the heat, friction from movement, freezing and evaporation might break that tire down into smaller pieces, but it’s not going away.

You want to do the right thing, don’t you? Make a tire swing out of it. Or a planter. Or a chair. There’s a thousand ways to reuse tires and you can find them all on that Internet thingy. This country disposes of 300 million tires per year – almost one per person. If we put them in a landfill they trap water that attracts rodents and mosquitoes. Plus, the methane emissions get trapped and the whole pile ignites. It ain’t easy to put out a tire fire. Tire-fire may sound silly, but not if the smoke is pouring into your backyard.

Tires can be converted into TDF – that’s tire-derived fuel. It’s an alternative to fossil fuels and even better, it produces 25 percent more energy than coal. The tires are put through a shredder that uses powerful knives to tear the tires into small pieces. The steel can be sorted out for other recycled uses. Then the remaining pieces of rubber can be incinerated to produce energy, used as playground mulch or even material for new tires.

See what I’m saying? There’s a right way to save the planet and fight back against climate change, and there’s a wrong way. It just takes a little bit of consideration for your old Mother Nature. Trust me, you don’t want to be on my bad side.

All my love,

Mom

Jay Harrison is a writer and creative consultant for DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

Filed Under: FICTION

Making the Case

May 5, 2021 By admin

python skinIt seems like most of the advice about retirement is to keep working. Experts cite financial and health benefits, as well as the ongoing need for people to live with purpose. Apparently, only a job provides such purpose?

Of course, I disagree work is the solution for most of life’s woes, and I’ve been toying with the idea of penning an op-ed about the case for retirement. I’m still fleshing it out, but my basic premise is that we add layers and layers of accommodations and behaviors to earn a living, and we start to believe that’s who we really are.

Or perhaps we just accept who we’ve become. The workplace is a powerful force, but everything changes if you have the financial resources to exit.

Retirement can be the opportunity to discover or re-discover who you are when nobody is watching. I’ve been searching for a metaphor. The first one that came to mind is of a snake shedding its skin. Snakes shed their skins because they are growing, and the old skin no longer fits. That sort of applies to how we evolve in retirement, but I think it misses one key point.

If it’s true we add layers to survive, then shedding them over time returns us to our natural state. That’s not how it works with snakes, so I’ve been trying to think of another metaphor. Perhaps we are more like furniture being stripped of multiple layers of paint to ultimately reveal the lush original wood.

I’m several layers away from exposing bare wood, but I’ve been blowing some dust and cleaning up a lot of paint chips. I want to see what’s underneath.

Are you morphing in retirement? How would you describe it?

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

 

Filed Under: ESSAY, Uncategorized

Just Enough 

May 5, 2021 By admin

fuel gauge close to emptySo, here’s me and my old (like really old) buddy, Sal, on the way back from Nebraska hauling a second-hand bulldozer to Michigan. Sal is driving. That’s a condition of his involvement—only he can drive his International Harvester truck. That leaves me with the task of navigating and keeping him awake during the long tedium of wheat fields waving.

“You know we’re down to half a tank of gas,” I thoughtfully remind him. “We might as well top her off at that gas station coming up.”

“It’s not a Shell station,” he replies.

What can I say? It’s his truck.

Half-hour later, I notice Sal starting to fidget and wiggle behind the wheel. Maybe it’s the caffeine I’ve been pouring down him for the last 150 miles. Or maybe it’s the coffee trying to get out. Once again, I suggest a stop—this time for emptying rather than filling.

“Naw, that’s all right. An aching bladder keeps me awake. That and your constant jabbering.”

I start in explaining my plans for the dozer. The road commission is going to run a freeway near my farm. So, with this dozer, I’ll scrape the topsoil from my back-40 bottom land and sell it to a nursery. Then I’ll get money from the road guys to dump their fill dirt on my land. Then I can sell it to a developer for condominiums. Slick, ha?”

“Big plans. Lots of money.”

“Well…yeah.” I glance at the fuel gauge—a quarter tank to empty.

Shouldn’t we be stopping for gas soon?”

“I know my truck. Don’t worry.”

Later. “C’mon, Sal, we’ve been riding on empty for the last five or ten miles. Why are you doing this? We just passed a perfectly good gas station.”

“To keep me awake.”

Finally, the truck wheezes, stutters and dies. I’m mad. “Damn, Sal. Now look. We’re stuck without a farm house in sight and nothing but a long road sloping down to the horizon.”

“The operative word, here, is down. If the road slopes, let’s put the truck in neutral and see what we find.”

So, we slowly trundle down the long, curving road until it rounds into a small town with a Shell gas station on the corner.

Sal is grinning so hard I’m afraid he can’t see the road.

“Now, what did that prove?” I scold over hamburgers and pie.

“That just enough is enough.”

Retired trainer, and writing instructor, Joe Novara and his wife live in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Writings include novels, short stories, a memoir and various poems, plays, anthologies and articles. Read more at https://freefloatingstories.wordpress.com/

Filed Under: FICTION

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