"No Good Comes From Eating Carrots"

Such a nice dinner I prepared, slow cooker, potatoes, pork chops, sauerkraut. It just needed a little color.  It’s all about the color these days.  “Eat color for your health.”  So I cut up a few carrot sticks.  There, that looks pretty.  Everything tasted so good!  I took a bite of my carrot stick and felt a little something funny.  Not really a concerned little something funny… just a little tooth feeling thing.  Everythings ok.  Carry on.  Great dinner!  The next day, after lunch I had a cookie for dessert.  I don’t normally have cookies but I recently stopped off at Trader Joes on my way home from a road trip and saw these “Kettle Corn Cookies”.  Well, they looked pretty interesting so I bought them.  Anyway, I was giving them a try after lunch when. Ahgrghrghargh!!!!!  Out pops a big old chunk of tooth.  That’s what that little something funny tooth thing was all about last night!  I had cracked my tooth on the carrot stick and the cookie finished it off. Ouch!   So I make the perfunctory call to the dentist waiting the weekend through with a big hole in my tooth.

“I’ve got good news and bad” he says.  “The bad news is the tooth has to come out and the tooth in front of it needs a root canal.”  I can’t wait for the good news!!!  Ok, he says “the good news is we can save the front tooth and do a bridge so that you won’t have a hole in your mouth”.  This sounds like good news until I ask him how much this will cost.  $3,100.00. Not such good news!  But he begins with the root canal.  No big deal, the root was dead so no pain.  Now time for the extraction. People have said to me that it’s no big deal getting a tooth pulled.  They lied to me. It hurts like a son of a bitch! Because they are yanking,   yes I said YANKING on your tooth to get it out!  For the record, it hurts.  So I get done at the dentist, minus $3,100.00, a big bleeding hole in my mouth but a script for some pain meds. Ok, there is a bright side to this scenario.  (Or so I thought!)  I go fill the script, take money from my saving and put into my checking, and grab some soft food at the market before heading home.  I take a pain pill and an antibiotic, lay down and go to sleep for a few hours.  Not bad, eat a yogurt and watch The Voice.  I took a pain pill before I went to bed.  Slept great till 4am and woke up with a headache to beat all headaches!!!  I decide to get up, I stub my toe on my wooden clog and now I really need a pain pill.  I hobble to the kitchen and take another.  BIG mistake because 3 hours later, my head is about ready to fall off, I have significant nausea and I am in a sweat so severe that I might as well have stepped out of the shower.  I open the window, turn on the fan and read the info on the pain killer script.  Apparently Oxycodones are a derivative of codeine which make me throw up.  Ok, no pain meds for me.  Also, these meds cause constipation and suggest that you consume lots of water and fiber.  I look back on my diet yesterday of scrambled eggs, yogurt, and squishy noodles .  Zero grams of fiber.  So, now I have a big hole in my mouth, I’m minus $3,100.00, I am constipated, my toe hurts, my face is swollen on one side,  and I’m still taking antibiotics.  Can anyone say “yeast infection”?

I would have been better off with a donut (wholegrain with 2 grams of fiber) and  sprinkles on top for color!  Now I know what you’re thinking.. “You’re a health coach for God’s Sake!!”   But I stand by my convictions…”nothing good comes from eating carrots.”

"See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil"

There they were, sitting on the mantle of my Grammy’s house.  Three little monkeys made of wood in a row. One had his hands over his eyes, one had his hands over his ears and one had his hands over his mouth.  I could hold them in the palm of my hand, even my little hand 5 year old hand. I loved them. The adults told me what they were about.. about not looking for bad things, not listening to people say bad things and not actually saying bad things. I’m not sure I really cared what they meant.  I just liked the monkeys.  But I suppose I liked the fact that whenever I asked to see them, the lesson was told again.  I don’t know where those little monkeys ended up.   They sat on my parents corner table but  they are both gone and no one knows what happened to the monkeys.  I wish I had them.  They would become one of my “treasures”.  They would join the boxes of things that I have deemed invaluable and must be brought from one apartment to another… always in my possession.  It’s an interesting assortment of stuff.  When I die, no one will have a clue why I saved the things I did.  That is because I have attached sentimental emotions to worthless trinkets. Like the monkeys. Our treasures bring back memories of something important to us in our lives. If we dumped the whole lot overboard, we most certainly would survive but nothing makes us smile more than a sweet little card from our 1st one in kindergarten.  How can we throw those things away???  So we put them in boxes and only when we do some major clean or move to a new house do we relish the treasures of our lives.  Today, I found a card from my son that said “It will be okay… I promise”.  I don’t even know what it was in reference to but it made me think of him and how I have to keep believing that he will be okay.  I saw the wedding picture of my Mom and Dad who loved each other so much!  I picked up an old bottle that I found down by the river but it turns out it wasn’t really that old… just dirty.  I threw that one out.  My brother gave me this really pretty rock. I’m keeping that because he must have really liked it too to have it in his house and he gave it to me because I liked it.  It’s just a rock.  I have a driving hat from when I had a convertible.  Hat looks dumb and I don’t have a convertible anymore.  I kept the hat. I wrote a letter to my 17year old son (about 11 years ago) explaining to him the “guidelines” of how we were going to live together with respect and consideration.  I kept that. The orange pot that came with the plant after my husband died.  I threw that out.  Not sure why I kept it in the first place.

What will I do with theses “treasures” in my new house?  I’ll put them up in a closet. I don’t really want to move again for a long time but I hope I find a reason to open up these boxes once in a while.   It is nice to sift through the treasures of my life and smile.  I can’t say that I have always lived up to the lesson of the monkeys. (I say bad things sometimes when I’m driving). But I remember a loving family that thought it was important to teach me to be kind.    My box of worthless trinkets keeps my family and my memories available for reminiscing.  But the convertible hat really does look dumb.

"Hey Pops, I can WALK faster than this!!"

Ok, I’ll admit it.  I’m a back seat, sitting next to you, in the car behind you kind of driver. I tell you how to drive.  Not necessarily in the positive instructional kind of way. Sometimes I yell pretty bad things at you (but only if you’re in the other car and can’t hear me.) It is because I am the only person in the world who truly knows how to drive correctly. I think you need some help in the driving way of things. Blinkers on your car are there for a very good reason.  They let me know if you’re going to cut in front of me doing 80mph on the thruway. If you don’t use them, I’m going to have to swear at you because you make me nervous and I’m driving fast too.  So how about using your blinkers, Bub? I don’t call everyone “Bub”.  Sometimes I call them “Mack Daddy” if they’re driving a fancy giant pick-up.  I might say something like “get off my ass, Mack Daddy!!  75mph isn’t fast enough for you????”  Sometimes I call people “Pops”. Those are the people driving 20mph.  I might say something like “Hey Pops, I can walk faster than this!” but I don’t say that loud because I don’t want to upset “Pops”.  I’m going to be old someday too. I might say “Hey Sweet Cheeks, how about you get off your cell phone and pay attention to the speed limit???”.  Occasionally, I will call someone an asshole but I am VERY careful not to let them hear that one.  After all, they are being an asshole.  This part of my instructional methods though is not nearly as annoying as my need to help the person driving next to me.  They don’t know how to drive either and for the life of me.. I don’t know how they managed all these years without my help.

I used to point out to my second husband that our turn was coming up.  He finally turned to me and said “Stop telling me how to drive!!!” (He didn’t actually yell because he never yelled at me but he said it in a yelling kind of way.  So I stopped.   I watched time after time, as we drove past our turn. I said nothing.  He liked to drive straddling the center line.  I finally asked him what that was about.  He said it was the safest place to be in case a deer came running out of the woods.  Ok. But my current man drifts over the white line too and stays there.  I know because I am on the passenger side and the right hand line is going under my feet. I don’t think we’re watching out for deer. So I casually mention it to him. (I learned a little something from my ex!) 
“Babe” I say (that’s always a good way to start off telling someone how to drive), “seem to be kind of drifting to the right”.  “No I’m not” he says.  Now I have to step it up a notch and tell him that I can see the line going under my feet. He just brings the car back into the correct lane and doesn’t say anything else. But he’s not happy.  I can tell.  So when I see he’s driving 25 miles over the speed limit.. I’m hesitant about what to do.  Finally I have to tell him.. “Babe” (it worked so well the last time!)  “the speed limit is 35mph here.”  He says “I’m only doing 40mph and that’s ok”.  “Yes” I tell him “40mph is ok but you’re doing 60.” He looks down and realizes that I am right.  Still says nothing and brings it down to 40mph.  What does he do when I’m not in the car??? Become Mario Andretti????   This leaves me in a very precarious situation.  Do I keep my mouth shut and silently pray that no cop is nearby or do I continue to perform my duties with the best of intentions in spite of the fact that I am VERY annoyingly right?

I’m not sure how I got so good at driving and why the rest of you continue to struggle out there on the road but if I can be of assistance to you.. just roll your window down and I’ll be there for you.  And by the way if you hear me yell “Hey Asshole!”,  I’m not talking to you.

"You Think?"

 “Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.”
― Mahatma Gandhi        

    I like to read famous quotations.   I have several books of quotations but it’s pretty easy to pick a theme, type it into the google bar and voila.. lots of quotes to choose from. I don’t memorize the quotes and throw them out at cocktail parties or anything like that.  But I read them and I think about them. I think about how their words apply to my life.  We can find out what Socrates thought about women and compare that to what Steven Tyler thinks about women.  Why? You say would we care what anyone else thinks about anything??? Because we do.  Because are born a clean slate.  Because it is necessary for our thoughts to develop as we take in the world around us.  We do not come with a pre-formed idea of how this is all going to go.  Our parents teach us, our teachers, our friends, the world around us and all, ALL, those who have come before us and speak out. There is no "original" thought only original interpretations.  We learn what we like and don’t like, what we believe and what we’re not buying. We process the endless amounts of information bombarding us every minute and decide how it all works for us. And we can change our minds too.  But the changing or evolving comes from the input of an outside force, something we never really thought about before, or an opposing argument to a long held belief.  The point of all of this is that it is not necessary to be “right” in your thoughts and ideas, it is only necessary that you are open to the thoughts and ideas of others before you reach a conclusion.  Understand that there really is no final conclusion as we assimilate new information into our personal data bank in our heads.  We gather information by reading, watching, sharing. Should we ever find ourselves alone on a deserted island for years, unable to read or hear from another, our thoughts would dry up like old lemon peels and we would surely cease to exist.  

Someone told me yesterday that no one cares what anyone thinks.  That was why he would not comment on my blog.  “No one cares what I think or what anyone thinks for that matter.”  I respect your right to believe that that statement is true.  That is why I took some time to think about it, process your thoughts and reflect on my position in writing this blog. So I did.  I care what you think. It makes me think. And when something makes me think.. that’s a good thing.  But I disagree with your sentiments.  I believe that we do care what others think.  Not only what they think but what someone else has to say about it.  (Hello.. Dear Abby and Ann Landers??) We somehow have captured billions of words and ideas from whomever we decided had something to say. You may believe that Abraham Lincoln had way more street cred to his words than say Sarah Palin.. but their words are available for you to decide. So my Dear Bro, I would love to hear your rebuttal here but you probably won’t read this and you won’t think it matters.  You may be right but.. “whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.”  Mahatma Gandi

I wonder, though… was someone following these people around with a pen and notebook to catch all the little gems of wisdom?  Because I gotta tell you, sometimes what I say is just plain brilliant but no one hears it and I don’t remember it later. That being said..  Favorite Quotes anyone?

"I Don't Like Peeps"

Not like “my peeps” plural for persons..   but peeps, like the sugary marshmallow  substance in the shape of a chick or a bunny..  That’s what we’re talking about today.  Peeps. I don’t like peeps but I sure wanted to see them in my Easter basket every year! That’s because they are a part of my heritage. They are a product of my youth.   Sam Born was in the business of making candy in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. His company was appropriately named “Just Born” and in 1954, peeps we’re born becoming America’s Easter candy.  The speculation  that they we’re shaped like bunnies is because Pennsylvania had a large German immigrant population and it is believed that they are credited for bringing their  Easter  tradition of a hopping egg laying rabbit to America.    The chicks, thought to come about from the  pagan symbol of the egg and birth and Spring. So there you have it, a little history of peeps. 700 million peeps are sold each Easter time. But I’m not sure anyone is really eating them.  Oh, I know… there is this huge big thing about loving peeps and the “Pro Peeps”  but who are you kidding? They taste pretty weird. I actually had someone get mad at me for saying peeps don’t taste good.  It was almost like saying “I spit on the American flag!”  the reaction I got!  But I don’t like them and I’m not sure you do either.  Want to know why I think this?  Because every single magazine on the shelf had different things you could do with peeps. (Not eating them!)  I saw a flower vase made of peeps, a lamp base, an Easter bonnet, an art deco wall hanging, flip flops (ok, I made that one up), but I think you get my drift.  People may love how cute the little peeps are but they are finding ways to use them instead of eating them! Know what I used to do with them when I was little?  Wait till they get really hard (about 2 hours into the day!) and then throw them at my brothers.  They threw them back at me (except for the one brother who actually ate his but he always was a little different). And let me tell you something… these babies could be weapons of mass destruction!  Can you imagine if we just build ourselves a big old “peeps” rocket launcher? We would have no enemies because whoever was left standing after the foray would be laughing so hard or calling up Martha Stewart to see if they could get their “peeps” invention into the next edition of “Living” magazine!!  You know how else I know no one is eating them?  Because every day after a holiday, I go to Walmart or Price Chopper or wherever , to get my Easter candy half price. (Remember, I’m cheap).  So today I arm myself with a basket prepared to replenish my stash and lo and behold.. what is left on the shelves?  About 10,000 packages of peeps!  That’s right, peeps. Did you buy peeps this year?  I thought not!  Maybe your “ peeps craft project” only need the small 6 pack. Maybe your kid/grandkids have realized how crappy peeps taste and want some good stuff in their basket.  Or maybe last year, they broke the Waterford candy dish filled with jelly beans after whipping those rock hard chickies in a game of friendly Easter warfare.  Perhaps you did buy some and they are now the only things in the basket hanging on for dear life.  I didn’t buy any half price peeps. I can’t think of anything to do with them except throw them.  But I didn’t get any peanut M&M’s either.  They had them yesterday, on Easter, at Walmart, but the morning after… no peanut M&M’s.  Where’d they go?  Maybe the peeps ate them.

"Foraging for Big Breasts"

We had dinner with our friends Deb and Larry last night. Larry is a bit of a character and has a very interesting way at looking at things.  Sometimes it takes a little while before you catch his drift, like a day or two.  But when you do, he kind of makes sense.  I say “kind of” because he’s still out there.  Last night he started a conversation by saying that he had had a revelation about life.  Now, you know it’s not going to be your classis inspirational thought but it’s always worth a good listen. He said “you know how animals start their day by foraging?” “Well, that is how I used to start my day too.” I asked him if he was out looking for food???  “No”, he said, “foraging for the things that might bring excitement into my day, like big breasts or butt cracks.”  Now a silence fell over the room as we attempted to process that statement. Then we all sort of laughed (including his wife) and began to make assorted jokes about where and what he might discover in various “foraging” situations.  He smiled and waited for us to finish, ( And to those of you who know me, the round lasted for a while).  He then began to explain.  When he was young, he was on a mission each day, to find things that stimulated his mind. He looked for big breasts and never let a pair pass without silently acknowledging the “find”. He clarified that it wasn’t just women’s body parts that he “foraged” for,  cars, tools, motorcycles things to create a moment of excitement.  But what he was saying is that he LOOKED for these moments, set out to find them.  Not so much today.  Today, the moments come to him in the simple joys of life.  He doesn’t look for them.  Sometimes, he doesn’t even notice the big breasts because he is lost in ponderings about life. He explores without the expectation of discovery.  He is more open to the gifts of the Universe and he can feel it. He listens to the robin building her nest and the call she makes to her mate.  He walks along and believes that the barking dogs are calling him to come and play.  He stops at a bench at the outlet mall in Lake George and finds peace in smelling the Adirondacks.  He says “hello” to the man jogging in the park.  No expectations, but sweet reminders of just how good life is. He thinks that one of the reasons for this transformation is that they have changed the freezer types in the markets from the ones that you used to have to bend over to get things to the tall standing freezer doors where women are… well, standing.  Once again, the room is silent.

Larry also said that life was like a spinning top, you start out at the bottom and as life spins it go up to the wide parts and then just in at the end.  I’m not sure I get that analogy.  It may take a day or two more for that one.  But he did say one time that “sometimes you’re just tired from being awake.”  I get that one. I think a great reality show would be “Foraging with Larry”.  I’m going to follow him around with a video recorder and see if I can find a producer. Or maybe I will just appreciate seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. That’s really what Cathie’s Radio Café has always been about.  What do you think about?    I won’t laugh… right away

"Time to Throw in the Towel"

Seriously.  It has been a long battle whose losing outcome has been pre-destined.  I can’t win. I know that.  I have known it all along but I have put up a good fight. I have attempted to forestall the inevitable.  I have lived in denial of the progression of this war for about 20 years. And today, I think I am ready to surrender because I’m tired of trying the thousands of strategies for conquering the opposition.  My brain has finally come to the realization that I am not young any more. Oh, all you optimist can say.. “You’re only as old as you feel.” “Phooey” I say.   I FEEL pretty damn young but the ever present signs of my aging seem to be smacking me in the head with the obvious!  And I don’t really like it very much.. no really, not at all!  Oh I know what you are thinking.. “Aging is a part of life”, “Rejoice in the years of experience that have given you those wrinkle”, “Embrace your true self without the vanity of your youth!” “Phooey” I say again. I’m not happy about all of this.  Today alone, I colored my grey roots, bought my first pair of Spanx, and after my walk, I had to stretch the kinks out!  I went shopping today and bought a spatula and a thermos. Oh, I looked at the pretty brightly colored spring clothes.  As a matter of fact, I pulled out the cutest little peasant top and realized that I probably owned one of those… 40 YEARS ago! Not thinking it would look so “cute” on me these days!  And speaking of 40 years…my 40^th high school re-union is this summer. 40 years ago, I was young. 40 years later… not so much. Everyone from my high school is re-connecting on facebook.  Good thing!  Because 40 years later.. we don’t look anything like we did and no one would recognize anyone without a name tag. We look in the mirror and see ourselves as hardly changed at all.  Until we see a photograph and we think.. “Whoa.. Really bad shot. I’m sure I look waaay better than that”. But we don’t.  We look like we went to high school 40 years ago. We still like to think we’re kind of cool except now our GROWN children are condescending and sometimes even snicker when we play air guitar to Led Zeppelin. I look in the mirror and I scream.. “NO.. you’re not going down yet!!!”.  “Hang on!”  but there is a soft little whisper in my head that says… it’s ok.  You’re not a young girl anymore.  You can have a little tummy sticking out and your neck is going to droop down a little no matter how often you work out.” The little voice says, “Maybe it’s ok to go grey, after all, you went to high school 40 years ago”.  I heard two little old ladies taking in the doctor’s waiting room about getting ready to “winter in Florida”.  One of them said, “I have put on some weight and my bathing suit doesn’t look very good” The other one said “it doesn’t matter”.  “The young men are looking at the young women and the old men are looking at the young women. No one is looking at you”.  Last summer when I was looking to find a companion on match.com, I was surprised at how many 70 year old we’re contacting me. Ewwww.  70 is way too old for me!  But the 50 something year olds were looking for the 30 somethings.   

 Miniskirts show my veins, I can’t run without peeing, my eyebrows are turning grey, and comfort has become way more important than style. I pull my neck skin back to see what I used to look like and wonder how much a face lift cost. It is a losing battle and the efforts to maintain are wearing me down.  (Maybe that’s why my butt isn’t exactly where it used to be).

 So ok, I’m going to relax a little bit.  I’m going to begin to accept the process.  I’m going to stop looking at little strapless sundresses that should be worn with very high heeled platform sandals. But I am going to dim the lights over the bathroom mirror and only be naked in candlelight, and count my blessing that my boyfriend’s eyesight is going too!