?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

White Tablecloth

Posted on July 19, 2008

Maybe it’s crept in with older age or maybe it’s been there all along, but I find my dining tendencies these days are more white tablecloth than sawdust on the barroom floor. I also find my mate is the opposite. This isn’t unusual, as I’ve said for years that if you know where one of us stands on any given issue you know the other stands at the opposite point.

Earl and I have even begun to characterize our ritual Friday nights out for dinner in this fashion. The conversation goes likes this:

Earl: Where do you want to go for dinner? I really don’t want to go to a white tablecloth restaurant tonight. (In all fairness, he does go to them.)

Me: Well, how about Papa Vino’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken with a cocktail on the side at home, or Pizza Hut?

Earl: No. How about North Shore Inn, Pauly’s, or The Establishment?

Me: We went to Pauly’s recently; I don’t feel like the North Shore Inn, but I would enjoy The Establishment. (NOTE: It’s the most white tablecloth of Earl’s three options.)

We headed out last night for The Establishment, but further discussion ended with our going to Santianello’s, an Italian place with wonderful bread. In the end both of us were happy, but I sense that future Friday night soirees might have to be a taking-turns sort of thing, with tablecloths one week and bar food the next.

We can do it. We do it all the time. After all, he’s a Republican and I’m a Democrat. He’s willing to spend money on classic cars; I prefer jewelry. He’s into cops and robbers and shoot ‘em up bang bang. I’m into classical music. Yet, it works. Go figure.

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Thank You, Asphalt

Posted on July 17, 2008

Today it was in the nineties, and working outside was an effort. Nevertheless, Earl and our handyman spent most of the afternoon asphalting our circular driveway. This wasn’t on my top ten things to do around the house, but it was definitely on Earl’s. And I must say the driveway looks very nice.

With the exception of the bumps caused by the aging, spreading roots of our maple tree. The tree sits midway on the circle and is most majestic in my opinion. I’m so glad Earl has never said he wanted to cut down the tree so that the driveway would look even better. I’d much rather have a beautiful tree and a less-than-perfect, although recently asphalted, driveway than the other way around.

Earl and I had planned to attend a classic car show tonight, and I’m sure he looked forward to it all week. However, after spending half the day in the broiling sun he announced that he didn’t want to be outside anymore. The car show was scrubbed. I certainly understood.

So we’re languishing in air conditioning, which is fine with me because I’m not a devotee of classic car shows anyway. In addition, I’m sitting here thinking I lucked out. I didn’t have to work on the driveway or visit the car show. It’s great to be me.

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Webs

Posted on July 15, 2008

I was sitting in my office trying to come up with a topic for today’s blog. For some reason, it was difficult to hone in on one. Should I comment on The New Yorker’s skewering of the Obamas? Should I describe the wonderful kayak trip I took this morning? Should I comment on tonight’s baseball All Star Game? None of it really inspired me.

So I stared out my window and a giant spider web caught my eye. Given that our house is on the market, I don’t particularly like giant spider webs; to me they give the impression that the homeowners are sloppy. Yet living on a river means that flora and fauna get ahead of you quickly if you’re not vigilant.

Under other circumstances I would fully appreciate a beautiful spider web. They are works of art. Especially when they glisten in the sun or just after a gentle rain. And who hasn’t read Charlotte’s Web, where the Charlotte the spider saves Wilbur the pig’s life with her exquisite messages written in spider web fashion? I cry every time I read that story.

Nevertheless, tomorrow I’ll be out with my broom (or maybe I can cajole Earl to use the broom) to get rid of some ambitious spider’s work of art. It always creates a little pang of remorse, for I’m sure the spider can’t read our “For Sale” sign and thinks we’re meanies.

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Lists

Posted on July 13, 2008

News coverage — whether it be print media, television, or the Internet — is filled with lists. There are the ten top grossing movies, the one hundred best places to live, the dozen unspoiled vacation spots, the thirty best universities to attend, the fifty finest restaurants in the U.S. You name it; there’s a list for it.

And, given the current state of the economy, I am sure there will be lists like these: the ten best ways to save gas, the twenty ways to stretch your grocery dollar, the fifty ways to reduce household costs, the one hundred recipes for cooking a meal for four under ten dollars.

Lists have taken the place of serious reportorial writing. Instead of providing an article with a beginning, a middle, and an end, today’s writers feature lists. You just have to wait in line at the check-out counter to notice this phenomenon in the tabloids. But it doesn’t stop there. It’s everywhere.

Actually, I’m a list person myself. I make To Do lists daily, grocery lists weekly. I even make lists of what I want to take on a trip. I like the organization it provides. But when I was a freelance writer (which I was for twenty-five years), I would never have considered submitting a list as the final product of an article. Call me a purist, but I went with traditional paragraphs instead. They required transitions, a logical flow, and a double check to make sure I wasn’t using the same word more than once.

With that in mind, maybe I should switch to lists. My ideal one would consist of the top three pronouns people no longer use correctly, the top ten nouns that are turning into verbs (i.e., I Googled® it.), and the top twenty grammar rules that are going by the board.

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Tony Snow

Posted on July 12, 2008

Former Bush press secretary Tony Snow’s death was announced this morning on several national TV news stations. He was fifty-three, a full decade younger than I am. I can only imagine he and Tim Russert are holding political court somewhere and possibly making friendly wagers regarding the coming presidential election.

Politically speaking, I suspect Snow and I did not vote for the same candidates. Nevertheless, in the seventeen months that he was Bush’s spokesperson, I found him erudite, thoughtful, and professional. It turns out he was also battling colon cancer. Eventually the cancer spread to his liver, which caused his death today.

I can relate, because my own Mother died of colon cancer that spread to her liver. When this happens you don’t have years left; maybe months, maybe weeks. But Snow made the most of it. He resigned his post as Press Secretary in September, 2007 but made appearances at the annual White House Correspondent’s Association Dinner, the Catholic University of America, The Tonight Show, and the Late Show with David Letterman.

Then, this spring he had to cancel some engagements. If there was a mention in the news, it passed me by. Until today, when I accidentally turned on the TV while making our bed and heard the news. Tim Russert must have wanted a journalist companion really badly.

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Just Noticing . . .

Posted on July 11, 2008

I’ve been rushed all week; it’s partly due to having our house on the market and partly due to working double the hours at my job. Having the house up for sale means extra effort is put into keeping it clean, organized, and ready to show at a moment’s notice. Working twice the hours means that extra time must come from some other corner of my life. Like working out. Or reading.

But not sleeping. At least, not yet.

I had a facial this morning with Janet ; every time I have one with her she comments on whether I’m jelly or toast. (My words, not hers.) Jelly is better, but today I was toast: crunchy and stiff and tense. I hadn’t really thought about it until then, but I can see where the house and the extra hours on the job are changing the fabric of my daily life from a comfy quilt to a stiff tablecloth. The one suggests relaxation, the other duty.

I’ve been here before; in fact, I’ve been the tablecloth for most of my life. Given the circumstances, that experience will stand me in good stead in the coming months — as neither the house project nor the projects at work are about to abate quickly — but I intend to get back to the comfy quilt ASAP.

I see Janet again in six weeks; it will keep me aware of the situation. And, if I’m still toast, at least I hope I’m becoming a little soggy.

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Voicemail vs. Email

Posted on July 10, 2008

Voicemail and email offer two different ways of communicating, and I use each for different reasons.

Email is great when I don’t need the answer right away, but voicemail is better — in my opinion — for stressing the urgency of something. Both require that the recipient of the message be attuned to checking either a computer or a phone. But voicemail has the added advantage that one might actually catch the recipient as his or her desk and solve the issue involved immediately. Email rarely does that.

I think today’s preference is email. I frequently hear others say, “I’ll email him (or her) about that.” The thing is, you’ve passed the ball into the other person’s court, since you now must wait for a response. Granted, if you make a telephone call and get voicemail, you’re in the same boat. But you can stress the urgency in your tone of voice, something that doesn’t come across with email.

I’m not favoring one over the other; I simply think that each has it use. And the savvy businessperson knows when to use one or the other to best advantage.

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Dieting Tips

Posted on July 9, 2008

Tomorrow marks the last day of the weight loss challenge Earl and I have been participating in for the past twelve weeks. We’ve worked hard to shed extra pounds; and both of us have been successful. The trick is to keep the weight off, so that we don’t have to lose the same pounds over again next year.

With that in mind, I hope to adhere to the following diet tips, all of which I’ve tested myself. None has to do with caloric intake or protein shakes or vitamin supplements. Rather, they are practical habits that help one toe the straight and narrow food path and avoid temptation.

Eat something when you wake up. This is hard for me, because I don’t wake up hungry and I want to save the calories for later in the day. But I’ve learned to do it, and I do feel better. Find fruits and veggies you like and keep them on hand. We’re fortunate in that we live in an area where farmers’ fruit stands run rampant this time of year. In winter, I guess I’ll have to learn to like apples more.

Carry a bottle of water with you. I find I drink more water if I take a bottle in the car. Eat the foods that are good for you first, especially if you go out to dinner. You’re less apt to eat more of the foods that are fattening. Brush your teeth after dinner.

Don’t weigh yourself every day. Once a week is good enough. Yeah, I know, if you’re on a binge then you’ve lost a week. But maybe you won’t binge, knowing the work involved to get those pounds off.

And, finally, we’ve all heard the phrase “lifestyle change,” which is another way of saying you have to do these things for life and not just for the duration of the diet if you want to keep your weight under control. But lifestyle change is a slow process. I know this firsthand too. I started almost three years ago, and it’s taken me this long to get where I am. The weight loss challenge is only the most recent addition to my new regimen.

The thing is, I feel wonderful at an age where many people feel less than that. I’m flexible, agile, and relatively strong for my age (I can lift my own kayak into the water.). For a girl who never went to gym class in her entire sixteen years of formal education, it’s quite a revelation.

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Baloney

Posted on July 5, 2008

Earl has become interested in baloney. Or rather bologna, the American style sausage. He’s recently read about fried bologna sandwiches and apparently has never had one. I’m surprised since he’s regaled me with tales of his mother’s southern cooking and how everything was fried. As for my upbringing, bologna sandwiches were part of an occasional supper, especially when payday was the day after tomorrow and the good stuff had all been eaten.

There are myriad recipes on the Internet for this delicacy, but they all have two things in common. First, you must remember to slit the bologna slices before frying them or they curl up into a cup formation that defies a comfortable fit between two slices of bread. Second, you must use the most processed white bread on the planet. The condiments you slather on the bread can reflect your personal preferences.

Yesterday, Pat, Frank, Earl, and I went to lunch after kayaking. It was Earl’s idea to go to Pauly’s, a great hangout in Benton Harbor that has wonderful bar food guaranteed to make you want to nap afterwards. You know, probably similar to what Earl’s mother used to fry up.

We’d never noticed it before but there was a bologna sandwich on the menu. In the end, Earl didn’t order it, as we can never pass up a heaping serving of Pauly’s wings, the best in town. We also didn’t order the fried pickle, but maybe next time we’ll do both the pickle and the bologna, washed down with a side of wings and a cold brew.

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Tradition

Posted on July 4, 2008

It’s been a tradition of several years’ standing that I kayak on July 4. My most faithful partner in this activity is Chris, but this year he didn’t visit River House; and I wondered if my holiday ritual was in jeopardy.

Enter Pat and Frank, a couple who takes the same fitness class I do. Turns out they are avid kayakers, as I learned one morning while we were all trying to master various weight lifting machines. We exchanged emails — doesn’t anyone exchange telephone numbers anymore? — and the rest, as they say, is boating history.

This morning we put our flotilla of kayaks in the water about six miles upriver from our house — you want to paddle downriver whenever possible — and got out at our dock where Earl was waiting. Along the way we looked for herons without success. In fact, the only wildlife we saw was one complacent duck. Even the bugs were on holiday.

I don’t believe I mentioned my Fourth of July tradition to Pat and Frank; rather, it was serendipity at work that I got to kayak today. And we’re already making plans to do it again. So an old tradition may now have new life breathed into it.

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