Traveling in Today’s World - Mama Said There’d be Days…

Growing up, my parents always taught the principles of “please,” “thank you” and simply being polite. Especially when it came to traveling. We traveled A LOT when I was growing up and thankfully, my folks never had to deal with traveling in today’s airline climate.

I just took a weekend trip where I had to fly out of town. And easy 2.5 hour flight up to Chicago and another one back. Before I go off on the people who tried, tested and tweaked my patience, there were some high points to the flights that helped balance out the insanity: The hilarious group of elderly women in the airport restaurant that kept us all in stitches with their humor; A lovely flight attendant on the flight up who purchased drinks for our row to honor the air force sergeant seated next to me; The couple on the flight back with the 3-month old baby who slept peacefully through the entire flight. There ARE nice strangers everywhere and it’s a shame that they are many times overshadowed by idiots.

Hmmm. Idiots. Mom would say I wasn’t being very polite. OK, I will try to highlight their antics in the most polite way possible, using please and thank you.

Please, Mr. Curbside Skycap – throw my suitcase over to the conveyor belt so as not to exert yourself in the 4-5 steps it takes to reach it. You missed? Well thank you for then flipping it like a giant block on the 2nd try so it rolled on all 4 corners before reaching the belt.

Thank you, Courtesy Shuttle for the Handicapped, for running over a little girl’s sweater in your race to the next gate. At least the little girl wasn’t wearing it.

Thank you, Father and 2 kids, for all standing at the end of the security scan conveyor belt and putting on your socks, your sneakers and your belts while the rest of us catch our belongings before they go past you. More thanks for not taking up space on the benches that are conveniently there for this purpose.

Thank you, holder of boarding pass A39, for pushing in front of me, holder of boarding pass A32. Please let me get out of your way.

Thank you, Gate Attendant, for letting him do it. Please ask your high school math teacher why you can’t count past 30.

Thank you, passenger behind me, with your i-Pod up so loud that even with earbuds I can tell you’re listening to Katy Perry. Please make an appointment with a doctor to check your hearing.

In conclusion, please allow me (see how I got that “please” in there, Mom?) to quote a popular country-western song: “Mama always told me that I should play nice, but she didn’t know you when she gave me that advice.” In this case, “you” know who you are, Southwest Airlines travelers.

Not a Selfie Fan

When I was on vacation in Europe in the last millennium, my friend asked me, “Why are you taking pictures of all these statues? Why don’t you ever want to be in the picture?” My answer: I hate having my photo taken. Getting a passport photo is as stressful to me as presenting in public or going on a first date.

Fast-forward to the current day, mobile society where most everyone LOVES to post photos of themselves…aka “Selfies.” I’ll be honest - this practice annoys me. It’s kind of self-absorbed. OK, not kind of. It is. And it can get you in trouble if you’re of the mind to experiment with more…uh…experimental… uh…arsty shots and scenes a la a Kardashian video. You know what I mean.

Obviously, my opinion is WAAAAY in the minority, given that everyone from Ellen to the President is snapping selfies. Given that that the term selfie was proclaimed 2013 Word of the Year by the Oxford English Dictionary. http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/us/definition/american_english/selfie Given that when you Google, “How to take a Selfie,” there are over 73 million – yes, million – links that pop up.

So I am woefully outnumbered. I did however, take this photo while on a cruise this summer – I’m calling it my first selfie, but this friend contends that I’m simply photo-bombing her and that it isn’t my selfie because she took it.

Lastly, back to my friend and I in Europe oh those years ago: She also asked, “If you’re not in the photo, how will people know you’ve been here?”

Duh. I took the picture – you’ll just have to trust me.

What Scares Me?

A good friend of mine suggested an interesting topic: What are you afraid of? The first response that pops up is “ending sentences with prepositions”…but I digress. Since it’s the start of a new year and a new decade, I thought I’d ponder the question.

So what scares me? The usual tangible, icky things in nature: snakes, spiders, rodents and roaches. It’s not so much that they scare me, as I have an innate desire to kill them. Oh, and monkeys, too. Especially little, wiry monkeys. YUK. Perhaps my fear brings out some murderous streak. Perhaps that’s something others should heed…hee, hee. So here we go – Fear 101 for me:

Clowns
They’re evil. Just plain evil. No one is that happy all the time. Never trust anyone or anything that fits 10+ in a tiny car. (Now I must asterisk this by saying I do not mean rodeo clowns – they perform a valuable service.) But most circus “tramp” clowns, spindly marionettes and those icky mime-ish French clowns give me the creeps. Maybe it’s all that facial make-up and costuming hiding the real person inside. If there really IS a real person inside….

Uncontrolled Fire
I grew up with Smokey the Bear. He was smarter than the average bear. I mean, c’mon…who wants to become a human torch?!? Not me. I’m OCD when it comes to candles, fireplaces and even pizza boxes on low in the oven.

Tequila
It’s not so much the tequila that scares me as much as ME AFTER I drink tequila. It makes me mean. And I’ve already mentioned the potential murderous streak…

Drowning/Suffocation
I learned to swim at an extremely young age…perhaps my parents had the same fear and wanted me to overcome it. I love swimming, but do it very controlled environments. Pools, small ponds, oceans with see-through water and LOOOOOONG sand bars. No Jacques Cousteau-action for me...no swimming through dark, coral tunnels. I sort of hyperventilate as I write that!

Reality TV
The Bachelor…Jersey Shore…The View…Wife Swap…The Ed Show…Toddlers and Tiaras…Bridalplasty…The Glenn Beck Show…ANYTHING with a Kardashian on it. I only hope it’s not an indication of where our collective mindset is headed.

White Zinfandel
Enough said.

Being Lonely
I don’t mean being alone, I mean being lonely. Having no one in which to turn. I think I’ve got this fear licked, because I’ve been lucky to have great family and surround myself with wonderful friends.

Perhaps writing about it exorcises some fear demons. Mostly I try to live every day to that cliché of “the fullest.” And I try to be thankful every day for my blessings and to hope for those who don’t have as many. I found an amended version of “The Serenity Prayer,” and it helps me with my fears. Maybe it will help you with yours.

God, grant us the serenity to accept things we cannot change, courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Grant us the patience for the things that take time, the appreciation for all that we have, and the tolerance for those with different struggles. May we appreciate the freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and give us the strength to get up and try again ~ even when we feel it is hopeless.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, ALL!

Stop the Madness (or should I say, “Ad-ness?”)

Some things are just inherently wrong. The Michael Jackson-Lisa Marie Presley marriage…pineapple on pizza…tank tops with bra straps showing…adding water to single malt scotch…

Last night, I saw a TV commercial for maxi pads – the ones with “wings.” There’s not a thing wrong with advertising a feminine hygiene product. What was wrong was the creative concept. THE MAXI PAD WAS RIDING A MECHANICAL BULL. Not a girl wearing a maxi pad, but the pad itself flies up onto the bull (it has wings, you know) and gently spreads its wings around the body of the bull. As the bull performs its mechanical shuck and jive maneuvers, the maxi pad stays in place – an obvious metaphor for its true function.

STOP IT. I know what a maxi pad’s supposed to do. And I don’t ride mechanical bulls (anymore). I’m having a hormonal flashback to the old 70’s ad where the fem-hy-challenged female exclaims to her fem-hy-knowledgeable friend, “I need roller skates to keep up with you!” I guess the mere fact that I’m blogging about it serves the company’s communication goals. So alas, somehow they’ve won.

What’s next? A douche commercial featuring a fire hydrant? Well, that's just a bunch of bull.

Wining or Whining?

Anyone who knows me knows: I LOVE WINE.

I've been trying to learn more about wine, but let's face it. I'm a novice. Actually a novice of a novice. The difference between me and some other folks is that I'm not afraid to admit it.

Have I overpaid for a glass or bottle of wine because I knew no better? Yes.
Have I enjoyed wine from a box? Yes.
Have I grossly mispronounced a type of wine or name of a vintner? Yes.
Have I ever tasted Boone's Farm? OK, yes...but I was a teenager. Some slack, please.

The dictionary defines connoisseur as "a person who is especially competent to pass critical judgments in an art, particularly one of the fine arts, or in matters of taste." Am I a connoisseur? Heck no. All I'm saying is that I'm a fan, and I know what I like. I like crisp over buttery; peppery over plummy; dry over sweet. The more I read-taste-learn-taste-research-taste (yes, a pattern emerges), the more I can blindly detect the differences.

Lately, as I peruse Facebook, Twitter, Google and all other things digital, I'm noticing that many people don't just say, "I'm enjoying a glass of wine." They feel compelled to alert you to the fact that they're opening a bottle of Santa Margarita Pinot Grigio (which is, overpriced in my extremely humble opinion). Or a Napa this or a French that. I'm confident that of the people who read the alert, the ones who know wine just think it's pompous and the ones who don't know wine don't really care.

The more I learn, the more I know what I like and what to look for on a label. And most of the time, it's not the price tag. A wise man (and wine expert) told me that it's wonderful to enjoy a good, expensive bottle of wine - and encourages everyone to do so. But don't overlook and certainly attempt to taste the hundreds of wine values that are out there. And he was most definitely NOT talking about MD 20/20.

That being said, I'm going to open a Diet Dr Pepper, of the Waco region, canned (hopefully) in 2009. I'm saving the sauvignon blanc for a bit later. Cheers!

Mixed Messages?

As I sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic this morning (mind you, this was the "alternate" route I had chosen), I was passing time by seeing how long I could keep my hybrid on battery power and scrolling through my i-Pod. When all of a sudden, I noticed a four-wheeled, rolling oxymoron.

A dump truck merged in front of me - politely, I might add - and I was taken aback by the personal displays on his vehicle. The back tire's mud flaps both proudly displayed that glorious homage to women, the metallic silver silhouette of the naked, Playboy-bunny shaped female. This is not uncommon, you'll see it on most big rigs, construction vehicles and many oversized personal pick-ups. (Thanks guys - for scoring points with women, this ranks right up there with cat calls from a group of construction workers on site.) But what struck me as funny was the large sticker of Jesus on the back flap gate of his dump truck.

I'm not a religious freak. I'm also not a raving feminist. So this doesn't anger me, it simply makes me wonder.

I'm pretty sure I learned in Sunday School that God created the female and male form, so Jesus MUST appreciate a shiny silver naked woman silhouette, right? Or is there a contradiction here? Is there a "Seven Deadly Sin" offense here somewhere with lust or coveting or something? Maybe not adultery or coveting, since we don't know if shiny naked woman is married or not. I guess God-fearing, Jesus-loving men can still enjoy the female form - but I'm just not sure!

Weigh it on this if you have an opinion.

Reality TV and the Demise of the Cultured World as We Know It

I’m not a snob. I didn’t grow up wealthy. I didn’t summer in the Hamptons or ask my “mummy” for anything. But I do appreciate culture…and I’m seeing a decrease in a lot of things that promote it. We can banter about texting and e-mailing versus books or the traditionally written word. Don’t even get me started about the insanity that is Twitter – my boss makes us do it, which is why you see it to your right.

No matter what the palette, fashion used to be driven by classic lines, timeless colors coupled with bold, maverick innovation. I hate that yesterday’s Chanel boucle suit is today’s thong showing above a low-rise jean; that a Shelby Mustang is now a Smart Car; or that a welcoming Henredon wing chair has been replaced by a toothpick futon. In this evolution, style and workmanship seem to have been replaced by portability, disposability and laziness.

Evolution is inevitable in all forms of culture…TV included. Classic comedies of the 50’s (I Love Lucy, The Honeymooners), the great westerns of the 60’s (Gunsmoke, Rawhide), the groundbreaking sitcoms of the 70’s (All in the Family, Sanford and Son), the eye-candy nighttime soaps of the 80’s (Dallas, Dynasty), the gritty crime dramas of the 90’s (NYPD Blue, Law and Order) – have all been eclipsed by what has been coined “the dumbing down of America.”

Eclipsed by what? Reality TV.

Let’s be honest here – there is NO reality in reality TV. Do you REALLY think a bachelor/bachelorette can find true love in a 13-week ratings period? Do you think Donald Trump would really fire someone who is attracting ratings? Shouldn’t I be afraid that viewers – MANY viewers – want to see contestants eat a variety of creatures and organisms that were never meant for human consumption? Why on earth as a wife, would I want to swap families with someone? Not only do I NOT want their problems – I wouldn’t impart the problems of our family on them. Nothing gets solved that way. And please – Super Nanny is just pointing out the obvious – bratty kids with lazy, selfish parents. From the promos, it looks as though she scolds the parents as much as the kids…and maybe that is good.

There are a few exceptions. Extreme Makeover Home Edition really helps families – one just hopes they are able to maintain the beautiful structure and it’s newly raised property taxes. The Biggest Loser is great for helping people get to a healthy weight – and hopefully the people are able to keep their weight at these healthful levels. Even The Donald, who I dogged previously, turned his reality show into a charity fundraiser, which is always a benefit.

But in general, Reality TV is a trend. It is cheap entertainment to produce. The “actors” don’t have to be talented – they simply entertain at the expense of their own pride and/or health. It’s not a slap to the programming budget if it fails. It’s easy to throw something our there and see what sticks.

If Marshall McLuhan was correct, and the medium IS the message, then send out an SOS right now! And take your hand off the remote!

P.T. Barnum Would Have Loved “As Seen on TV”

I read in a research journal that in this time of economic strife, the “As Seen On TV” retail business is booming. Not only are people staying home, finding things to occupy their time, but the product offerings are affordable. We can “treat ourselves.” But there are a lot of things they’re NOT: Functional? Not. Fashionable? Not. Rational? Not. Here’s what I mean:

The Sham Wow. My neighbor was sucked into one of these faster than the water gets sucked into the Sham Wow in the video. IT DOESN’T WORK. The video is full of flubs and inconsistencies between wet and dry. What do you expect from a pitch-man who’s been arrested on deviant charges?!?

The Snuggie. Are we not fat and lazy enough in this country to be able to wrangle our arms from underneath a blanket? Plus, it’s just ugly. And if you try and walk in it, you risk falling, tripping and hurting yourself. Then you’ll need the “As Seen On TV” medical alert bracelet because you’ll have fallen and can’t get up!

Save-A-Blade. Why am I paying $19.95 plus $6.95 S&H for a device to sharpen a plastic Bic razor that cost me around $2-$3 for a package of 6? I’m not a math major, but this seems silly.

Bumpits Volumizing Hair Inserts. Remember: “Flat hair is so last year.” Ladies – it’s called “TEASING.” Try it – it worked for your mom, your grandma, Nancy Sinatra and Dolly Parton. If you’re saying, “Who?” then look Nancy Sinatra up on the Internet. She had a famous dad.

GS27 Scratch Remover. OK, OK – I was conned into this one. I had a new car, there were scratches on the side, so I caved. Guess what!?! IT DOESN’T WORK. And yes, I can get my $14.95 back, but not my original $6.95 S&H. AND I have to pay to mail it back. Not likely.

Well I guess Barnum WAS right – there’s one born every minute because these products keep cropping up on TV. Instead of buying things “you’ve seen on TV,” why not invest the money in HBO or something. In the long term, you’ll save money. Now, if I can just keep my husband from buying the “Topsy Turvy Tomato Hanger,” we’ll be fine.

Will Pets Rule the World?

I love my dogs. I really do. But c’mon. They are DOGS. I realize that some folks see their furry friends as their children. I get it. I’ve never had children either. Lately, I’ve seen lots of situations and products that make me think, “wow – these people have more money than sense.” If I DID have children, I’m not sure there are a lot of these things that I’d experience with THEM. If you look in my blog archives from July of 2008, I went on a mini-rant about a lady at my nail salon that brought her dog in with her. PLEASE. Here are some actual “real-life-occurrences that just have no place with your pet:

Strollers – There’s a high-rise next to my office. Lots of people walk their dogs, as they should. However, as I drove into work, I spotted one lady with an old-fashioned, pram-style stroller. In the stroller were three – YES 3 – white, fluffy little dogs, just enjoying the ride and panting as if they were actually walking. Isn’t the purpose of a dog walk to “walk the dog?” I almost hit a fence! As we all know from my previous blog entries, there’s no stroller big enough on this planet to fit even ONE of my dogs, let alone one of them riding shotgun in a stroller.

High-End Mattresses – One of our local retailers is advertising Tempurpedic® mattresses on sale. Nothing wrong with that. The wrong part came when they started hyping their Tempurpedic® mattresses FOR DOGS. I can’t even afford one for myself – let alone provide one for my pets, who will promptly devour it as the large, foam rubber marshmallow it is. We’ve seen what Chip can do to a rose bush, so foam rubber is a piece of sponge cake to him.

Pet Clothes – If you live in the north or Midwest, and your pet needs to go outside in the dead of winter, then dog clothes (i.e. sweaters) serve a purpose. However, dressing your mastiff like Madonna or your Persian like Paris Hilton means there is a spark plug that’s not firing in your brain. Why don’t you put on a furry Chewbacca costume as you’re putting clothing on your pet…see how long you enjoy it?

Kitty Clothes – Oh please. Enough said. Good luck with those back claws.

Pet Swimming/Life Preservers – OK…these may have a place. Older or crippled animals would probably need these. But geesh – there’s a reason the swimming teacher called it “the dog paddle.” And if you’re afraid that Spot will jump off the Sea Ray, then leave him on dry land.

As ludicrous as these things are, I will however, give kudos to the companies and retailers for seeing their niches and jumping on them. And we wonder why people are worried about “the dumbing down of America?” I rest my case.

Would Someone PLEASE Explain Kelly Ripa?

I've been home this week for Thanksgiving. Normally, I don't get to watch morning television. But this week I've been catching "Live with Regis and Kelly." And I'm puzzled. What is with Kelly Ripa?

I read in the media trades that the show is very popular, especially with women who are able to stay home in the mornings. Kelly fawns all over sweet, aging Regis like a granddaughter. Kelly is cute. Kelly is very fit. Kelly apparently is supermom and superwife. I think Kelly must appeal to a group of ladies who aspire to be like her -- and it must be a bigger group of women than the ones who think she is full of it. Obviously, I fall into the latter group.

I think Kelly is Regis's arm candy; a step up from Vanna White, except Vanna can spell. Kelly doesn't say anything compelling. She doesn't pose any thoughtful issues. I kid you not - the topic of conversation one morning this week was how Kelly and Reg decided to match their clothing colors. Did they steal that from Sesame Street? At least Kelly's husband Mark Consuelos is featured in a recurring bit on Oprah - Oprah's ranked a little higher in the Nielsen ratings.

I've seen the ads for various products that highlight Kelly as a overachieving robo-mom. I had seen Amy Pohler's portrayal of her on SNL and at the time I didn't get that Kelly's really like that. I laughed at the SNL "fake ad" that shows Kelly as a spokesmodel for haircolor laced with crack cocaine - implying that's how she makes it through each grueling day of TV fame, kids and family.

I will bet cold, hard cash that in reality, behind that perfect spouse and parent persona, there is a stable of employees who make sure her life runs smoothly. Or at least that's what I have to believe to not feel less accomplished, achieving and/or successful. Eeeek.

I guess I see now why my husband prefers talk radio...

Fins to the Left, Fins to the Right….

I have a friend at work who believes that a woman is at greater risk for becoming (cue the theme music from “Jaws”) shark bait if (1) it’s that time of the month and (2) she wears bright toenail polish. The first theory relates obviously to a shark’s natural feeding attraction (I don’t think I have to elaborate here…). The second likens the poshly pedicured tootsies to a shiny, wiggling fishing lure. Last time I was in Academy Sports and Outdoors, I didn’t see any shark lures shaped like a ladies’ size 7½ with “I’m Really not a Waitress” red toes. Hey! Maybe there’s a marketing idea in there somewhere.

I can see the points to her theories, but I am still skeptical. If anyone has scientific data or reports of shark attacks on females that can be attributed to these factors, I’d LOVE to see them. However, just to be safe, maybe I’ll leave the O-P-I off the next time I’m in the ocean…