Rock The Wrinkle

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Who’s talking?

08/01/2016 /

Machines are always talking to us. These days, it seems they’re doing more talking than our friends who can’t get their noses out of their cell phones to eat dinner, enjoy a vacation, or go for a walk in a beautiful park. Everyone has their head down looking at a screen.  I wonder if we’ll all end up with a crooked spine because we never look straight ahead anymore.

But I digress.

As I was attempting to check myself out at the grocery store recently, I wondered what would happen in the technology we interact with every day suddenly became very honest.  Actually told us what we don’t want to hear, but might need to hear.  Or what if it just started arguing with us?

After all, we don’t talk to each other much anymore, so why shouldn’t we argue with the scanner?

I’m scanning items at the grocery.  I’m realizing I probably shouldn’t have shopped when I was so tired, so hungry, and so desperate for a few moments of comfort. That always leads to bad choices.  So let’s just imagine what the machine would say besides the usual orders to put the item in the bag and an attendant has been notified to assist me.

Scanning cheese dip.

“Really?  Cheese dip?  You haven’t worked out in weeks.  Have you read the fat content?”

Scanning chips.

“Well you might as well get your salt intake for the week.  At this point, could it matter?  You know, drinking 8 glasses of water doesn’t erase this.”

Scanning dark chocolate peanut butter cups.

“Okay, now it’s clear.  You have no desire to pursue nutrition.  You’re just in it for the rush.  Wow.   I mean, sure, dark chocolate is good for you, but two bags?  Expecting company??”

Scanning salami.

“Tell you what.  You bag your items, I”ll go ahead and phone the emergency room and let them know you’re on your way.”

Scanning broccoli salad.

“Ahh yes, the healthy item, all freshly prepared and boasting nutrients.  I’ve got news for you sister, you could put it in your hair at this point and it wouldn’t matter.

But it does make you feel better, doesn’t it?”

Did the scanner really say these things?  I don’t think so.  Then again, anything’s possible. Scanners now tell you how to do everything, chide you when you do it wrong, and then go blank and inform the nearest armed guard you’re an intruder.

Then there’s driving.  How did we ever get along without a rude woman saying “recalculating” every 5 minutes?  How did we read maps?  Find out way in the dark?  Plan our vacations?

We did.  Somehow, we did.  I can’t even imagine my father programming in a route.  He took a map, decided how long he was going to drive each day, calculated his gas mileage every time we stopped, and stopped when he was good and ready.  Which was usually long since past when we had fallen asleep in the back seat.

wi9yf7kTQxCNeY72cCY6_Images of Jenny Lace Plasticity Publish (4 of 25)I confess I use a GPS occasionally.  Just in case.  Just in case I can’t remember alternative routes, or get detoured, or just don’t want to concentrate on where I’m going.

That’s a little scary.  Is it really that much work to figure that out?

Sometimes getting lost is the best way to get where you need to go.  But you can’t even do that these days without being scolded.

 

“Turn left.

“No, left.  You missed the turn.

“Again.

“You just missed it again.

“No.  Stop.

“Make a u-turn.  Now go right.

” I said right.

“Aren’t you listening?

“Don’t re-boot me.  I’m the only one that knows the way. “

 

I don’t mind having help.  I do ming something else doing all the thinking for me.  When did we turn into mindless robots?  

Do we really have to check our phones every 15 seconds?

Can’t we sit in an airport lobby and people-watch?

Maybe even…egads...strike up a conversation?

Watch the clouds float by?

Utter a prayer of gratitude?

Just sit?

Daydream?

uploads-14115120538776712c565-a699942a

I’m getting older.  I”m trying to keep up with things.  But sometimes, a little quiet, a little simplicity, a little human contact…is a very good thing.

I can do it all by myself.

And my transaction always goes through.

 

“Silence is the true friend that never betrays.”

        Confucious

 

 

 

 

 

Let it go!

07/25/2016 /

Downsizing.  Rightsizing.  Simplifying.  Purging.  Lightening your load. It’s  a popular theme for us over 50 boomers and beyond. And it can be quite liberating.

I mean who doesn’t enjoy the feeling of just getting rid of stuff?  Especially when it’s still usable and could be of value to someone else.  Thus the many trips to Goodwill, ARC, and other charitable organizations who know how to recycle and reuse.

But what all do you get rid of?

There’s the drawer full of socks you never wear.  The books you never read or read so long ago you can’t remember.  The strange knick-knacks some long deceased aunt or uncle bought you while overseas.  That odd artificial flower arrangement.  That weird scarf you can’t stand.  The tie clip you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.

That’s the easy stuff. But what about the rest?

It can be hard to separate the memories from some items.  Sure, it’s not the prettiest vase on the planet, but Mother gave it to you.  Or the pipe set from your grandfather. Or the painting your father’s aunt did that you ended up with but have never hung.

file0001896435004Is it okay to throw these things away?

Moving experts will tell you yes, it’s okay.  Keep the memory.  But maybe don’t keep the item.  Especially if you’re moving. There’s just too much stuff.  Too many boxes to pack.  Too many boxes to unload.

 (You know they multiply in the moving van, right?)

Yet there’s the guilt.

We remain convinced that somehow, those who have gone on the great beyond will know we just threw out that ceramic dog.

Seriously?

The late comedian George Carlin had a great routine about this….our “stuff”.  We all have stuff.  We have to move our stuff because our homes aren’t big enough to hold our stuff.  Then there’s the stuff we take when we travel.  Which stuff should we take?

Stuff.

Move cross-country a few times and you’ll have a new perspective.  You don’t think you have that much, until you count the boxes in your garage.

Oh my God, how did I get this much stuff??

I think it’s kind of like friends.  There are those people who are just on the fringe of our lives, who maybe like to “friend” us on social media but don’t really know our stories.  People who wouldn’t be there at 2 a.m. in the emergency room if we called them.

But would be there if George Clooney were staying in our front room.

Do you hang on to them?  Probably not.

You hang on to the people who care about you.  Who ask you how you are and then wait for the answer.  Who laugh with you, and cry with you.  People who let you be who you are, warts and all.

Those you keep.  Always.

Many older people face a lot of anxiety and sadness when they are told to “rightsize” so they can move into a smaller residence, often a senior living community.  Understandably, giving up cherished antiques can be quite upsetting.  But think about it:  how much space do you really need?

IMG_0503 - Version 3How much space do you actually live in?

Is it the antique, or the memory, that lives in your heart?

I can tell you this;  being about to embark on another cross-country move and packing boxes until my eyes roll backwards has inspired me to part with many things. I can only hope they give others joy.

I know I feel simply giddy.

“How many things are there which I do not want.”

       Socrates

 

 

 

Happy Birthday Mom.

07/18/2016 /

IMG_0828 - Version 2

Today my mother would have been 98, had she not passed away 15 years ago. She is instead an eternal angel who probably is quietly giggling as she watches from a distant cloud.

At least I like to think that.

Her life was not an easy one, with responsibilities hitting her hard and early amidst the Great Depression and WWII. She survived it all, raised a family, and got us through many difficult moves, losses of pets, first days of school, and more. She took great joy in that. But I wonder if she would have liked to have had an opportunity to explore her talents.

She probably would have enjoyed college. Maybe she wished she could have a “girls weekend” or vacationed in a spa.

Instead, she planned meals, cleaned the kitchen, signed book reports, and held down the fort while my father traveled for business. She was quiet around others, but quite the dry wit around us. I like to think I inherited her grit. So many times I wish I could sit down with her and talk about things.

So I do anyway.

I picture her listening, and maybe smiling at me. It feels so real.   Because I sincerely believe she is with me more often than not. But maybe occasionally she’s using her wings to explore a sunny beach.

Or hang gliding over the Rockies.

Or just enjoying watching us. She is just one of the many strong women who helped make it possible for us baby boomers to go further than she ever dreamed.

Thank you Mother. And happy birthday.  

 

“I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.”

      Abraham Lincoln

Moments of peace.

07/11/2016 /

It’s hot.

It’s a time of confusion, fear, grief, anger.

It’s a season that asks us to slow down.  Sit in the shade.  Drink something cool.  Take it easy.

It’s an opportunity for us to reach out to one another.  Listen to each other.  Care for each other.

Let’s do it.  Let’s enjoy the days, the sunshine, the travels, the waves or mountains or meadows.

But let’s also reach out to one another.

Because it’s hot.

Because we’re weary.

Because we need some time away from it all.

Peace be with you.

 

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“There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?”

        Rumi

 

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