Tag Archives: “old people”

Do You Suffer from Too Much Stim?

Posted in Annoyances, Food: Getting It and Eating It, Friendship, Humor, Introverts, Out There, Senior Moment by

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Are You Unnerved by Too Much Stim?  Take This Test to Find Out.

  1. Your dear friends invite you and another couple to a small dinner party.

a. You can’t wait because you love being with good friends, and you enjoy eating great food.

b. You look for an excuse not to go.

c. You never received the invitation because you and your crowd are all forty-ish, and you don’t do dinner parties at home. When you entertain at home, you offer drinks, snacks, more drinks, more snacks, and dessert.

2. When you arrive at your friends’ home you hear the strains of music coming from their stereo or hi fi or whatever the heck we used to call that thing that plays (ahem) records. The music you hear is jazz. It is very loud jazz.

a. You start snapping your fingers and saying things like “Groovy, man, groovy!”

b. Your upper lip starts going numb, which your doctor assured you is a sign of stress.

c. You say, “Thanks, I’ll have a white wine,” while you’re still wearing your coat.

3.The drinks are poured; the hors d’oeuvres are luscious and:

a. The conversation flows; everyone (including you) is bright and witty.

b. The conversation flows; everyone (but you) appears to be bright and witty.

c. You smile, nod appreciatively, and when someone asks you, “What do you think?” you answer, “Yes, I have a new shrink.”

People who can’t do “Too Much Stim” have given the following answers:
Question One: a\
Question Two: b and/or c
Question Three b and/or c.

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How to Gain Weight and Exercise Your Brain at the Same Time!

Posted in Advice, Humor, My Book, Writing Process by
Photo Credit: Boogies with Fish via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: Boogies with Fish via Compfight cc 

In my earlier post, I said my brain was frozen during the summer.  But only part of that was true. So let’s move on to the subject of Neurology and the Brain.

As The Nothing Expert, I am qualified to write about the brain because I have one. Now that I have your attention, let me just say that my brain does not work like the brain of a millennial. I cannot multi-task. I’m lucky if I can do one teeny, tiny task at a time, and then for mental reinforcement, I munch on some chips, and dip.

In 1955 in our fourth grade class, I wrote the script for a puppet show, and then I decided that someday I would “Write a Book.”

When I was sixty, I started my book, and it only took me ten years to write it.

Then millions of people told me “Ha. Ha. You cannot publish a book without a platform and billions of followers. Get a platform.”

A platform means followers, billions of followers, even some from outer space.

And so, I put the book away, and decided to seek followers, on Facebook, Twitter, and on this blog.

Along the way I met some very wonderful people and I have enjoyed their blogs, comments, and our shared conversations. I still don’t get Twitter, and I’m past the point of caring how I screw up on Facebook.

But I have not been a good girl this summer. I have failed to write in my blog and I have failed to comment on other people’s blogs. I beg for your forgiveness, if you are one of my followers.

That’s because I have been working on my book, again. You cannot just write “The End,” on your last page and then say “OK World, Come and get It!”

Actually, I have been learning how to publish the book. Now if we break that up into steps, I would say that publishing a book takes about a zillion steps, all of them new for an old broad like me. And I can only concentrate on one step at a time, or I will get frazzled, eat too much, and gain 25 pounds of flesh, in my thighs.

So, who had time for writing? Not me.

Also, I never mentioned the book because somewhere in the zillions of publishing pointers, there was a warning on “shameless self-promotion.”

So, I am going to try to do the unheard of “Walk and Chew Gum” at the same time. In the coming weeks I am going to work on a few more steps, all at once! Along the way, I will tell you more about the book, but I will try to do it in a way that isn’t shameless self-promotion. 

Now where is that butter pecan ice cream? I’m spent.

THE HALLOWEEN GUIDE FOR SENIORS

Posted in Humor, Life, Mothers and Fathers by

HOW CAN I STAND OUT FROM THE OTHER SENIORS WHO LIVE ON MY BLOCK?

(For every “yes” you give, award yourself with one of the best chocolate candy miniatures you have been hoarding.)

Are you at home, awaiting trick or treaters, instead of being in your gated snowbird condo in another state?

Are you at home, awaiting trick or treaters, instead of escaping to the mall or movies?

Are you able to hear the doorbell, haul yourself out of your chair, and answer the doorbell every five minutes?

If you are taking your grandchildren trick or treating, award yourself with an additional five pieces of candy corn. If you rush home with your grandkids to give treats to other trick or treaters, you really are a Halloween superstar!

WHAT ARE THE RULES FOR ANSWERING THE DOOR TO TRICK OR TREATERS WHEN YOU ARE A SENIOR CITIZEN?

Do you wait for the goblins and princesses to ring the bell before you open the door?  Then, do you shut the door even though you see the next bunch of trick or treaters coming?  You know the fun for them is all about ringing the doorbell and waiting.

HOW DO I INTERACT WITH THE PARENTS OF THE YOUNG TRICK OR TREATERS?

If your doorbell rings at 7 a:m, do you answer it, wearing your  robe and slippers, wave to the young parents, and remember what it was like to be a working mother or father with a young trick or treating child?

If your doorbell rings at 7, 8 or 9, pm…Same answer as above.

If your doorbell rings at 10 or 11pm. Do you answer it, wearing your robe and slippers, and remember what is was like when you were a loony teenager? Their bodies might be bigger, but on Halloween, teenagers are still little kids.

CAN I STILL PURSUE MY SENIOR CITIZEN PLEASURES?

On Friday nights, I usually plan a nice TGIF dinner with wine for my spouse and myself. This year Halloween falls on a Friday night. Should I prepare my dinner and enjoy it with my wine?

Only if you want to kill yourself, waste good wine, and have the little goblins talk about the old people smells.

I have always loved Halloween. Should I dress up in costume to answer the door?

In memory of my dear father….please don’t do what he did. Dad, to answer our door, put on a Tiny Tim wig (Remember, “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”) and took out his teeth. I am sure there are kids—now parents themselves—who were scarred for life! Dad meant well, I swear.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!

Old People Buying Cakes in the Supermarket Bakery

Posted in Food: Getting It and Eating It by

The woman was in front of me on the bakery line at the supermarket. She was with a man who I assumed was her husband because he was old too.  She was deeply engaged with the bakery salesgirl.

“It needs to be fresh,” she said. “We might have company this week-end.”

“Taste this cupcake,” said the bakery salesgirl as she offered a chocolate cupcake. “It’s got the same inside as the cake.”

The elderly woman broke off a piece of the cupcake and shared it with her companion. The bakery salesgirl smiled at me, because she knew I was patiently waiting to buy my usual two biscotti while the couple were making their decision.

The old woman’s hair had once been layered and colored. Now, its coarse clumps, tangled in dull shades of orange, yellow and gray, lay wherever they had settled when she got out of bed that morning.

She reminded me of the older women who get wheeled into the beauty salon by their children or their care givers because someone thinks a color, a cut and a blow will be just what they need.   Often, it is difficult for them to maneuver into a comfortable position to have their shampoo. I wish that beauty salons had special seats (maybe some do) for elderly arthritic people who need someone else to maintain their hair.

“Mmm, delicious,” she said after tasting the cupcake.  “I’ll take the whole cake.  Thank you so much. You have been so kind.”

As their cake was boxed and tied, I waited in line behind the couple. I’m old, but they were older.

Her hunched shoulders were hidden in the worn collar of what my mother used to call a “spring coat.” It was made of some kind of black wool and they were a few loose threads that stuck out oddly. The pills and naps in it told me that, if it could talk, the coat might have great stories to tell, perhaps about the forties.

I don’t know. It was just a coat worn by an old woman who was with an old man.  They were buying a cake, in case they got some company that weekend.

I hope they did.