NY Resolution Number One

It appears that 2018's New Year Resolution Number One is no surprise. It's the usual "this year I must lose weight" wish, the same one as popular every year since the forties of the last century. Before that, people were simply glad to get a good meal in. Resolution Two of all those years, should read, "surviving guilt for not completing R#1". Women used to have hips. It's a woman thing. Now it seems that other than the K family of fame, the hips-in-demand are those of a ten year old. Some people under the duress of The Camera, resort to surgery when even starvation doesn't hone their bodies into the lens-required shape that gawping millions will envy. Just check your screens. The nasty cat-calling texting that happens when a formerly already thin performer deigns to gain a couple of natural pounds, is witness to the insane pursuit of skinniness that warps intelligence. And "skinny" is no exaggeration. Sometimes when I'm watching a fashion show, I can't help but moan in pain for the almost bone-alone bodies that sashay down the ramps, their frames as narrow as their six inch heels. Okay, so they are fifteen year olds, but all too often, in spite of Vogue's denials, these wire-coat-hanger bodies are put on view and are admired by ordinary people who will give up good health to become what they believe Fashion dictates. This pursuit of thinness is big business and big business is convincing. Take a look at magazine racks anywhere and one of the items on the front page will have the word "diet" in it. I know women who get up before work and go running and then after work, dash off to the gym for more of it on a treadmill. And if they're not there, they are at hot yoga, pushing their already toned and tired bodies into so-called relaxation methods. Then it's home and the comfort of a salad with "lite" everything in and on it. They want to fit into their size five forever. On the other side of all this thin madness, is mounting stress, bulimia, Spanx and depression. One wonders how much our national medical budget is stressed with prescriptions for pain, joint surgeries and psychological treatments caused by this so-called healthy fad to be skinny. I use the word "skinny" because "slim" doesn't cut the fat, so to speak. "Healthy" is eating a nutritional diet, not dieting and denial. To blame genetics, dieters say is not true: "we can all be skinny". According to skinny doctors, everyone has to lose weight and exercise. I have one, and wonderful as he is, I come from a rather boxy line of Europeans and while the fat could go, the bones remain. People of my genetic pattern will never be tall, slender and skinny unless we are literally starved and even then, likely not. Obesity is a true problem that needs to be addressed medically and psychologically, but let us not be silly when it comes to fat. Everyone has a certain amount of it. And should. We need fat to draw on if our bodies are sick and we can't eat due to the effects of illness or disease. If Resolution Number One could ever be "eat a standard nutritional diet to lose weight if need be",  I am all for it. 

Scratch And Save

There's an old adage that working people have no time, thus it's okay to buy the boxed, canned and deli stuff they call food. It isn't food, it's sales. The box says you can make a meal in fifteen minutes? You can do the same with a good stir fry or roast up dinner. It's all in the cutting of the food so that it cooks in unison. How much trouble is it to keep fresh veges in the fridge ready to pop into a couple of spoons of sesame oil and stir fry? These days certain businesses deliver a box of yellow and green things and a recipe at a fancy price while you can pick up the same things for a whole lot less in the grocery store. Adverts convince you that it's a lot easier and healthier their way. It's not. Nor is it a money saver. You pay dearly for the advertising, handling of the food products, the cute packaging and the delivery. Healthier? I doubt it when you have a grocer who will deliver the same fresh items plus a whole lot of other things you need around the house, to your door on your day-off. Price it out. Packaged, frozen and tinned foods are not fresh, and if of the boxed instant kind, they have additives that could be dangerous for some people. The rampant rise in "allergies" and sensitivities seems to go right alongside the increase in enhanced production-line foods. Pizza and buckets of fried chicken are not a healthy meal with all the sugar, fat and MSG to make your taste buds happy while your body weeps for nutrition. When the groceries come home, get the kids to help clean and package them for the week ahead. The carrots, celery and others will be just waiting ready to go. The kids could do the cooking when you get home. Mom and/or Dad shouldn't be doing the meal prep when kids are great helpers. Have them turn off the screens and get into the kitchen. How easy it is to toss the fresh items into a plastic bag to shake up or stir in a bowl with a bit of oil and herbs. They can be spread into the baking dish to roast along with the meat or fish. A whole meal in one fell swoop! Perhaps you'd rather toss the items into a wok along with some chow mein noodles and ginger orange juice adding a bit of spice, later slapping on the lid for a few minutes to steam it all. When you pour into bowls for a delicious fresh meal that takes minutes you will hear "yum". Also, how about fresh bread? With your mixer, it's so easy to stir up some bread dough, letting it rise on the warm stove while the oven is roasting dinner, and later forming  fat little loaves on the cookie sheet to rise a second time before putting it in the same hot oven to bake for half and hour. Ah the smell of bread baking. So easy, so healthful and children,  if they aren't over scheduled with silly stuff all week, can learn the art of survival in budget cookery when they reach college age.

Reader As Critic

If you read voraciously as I do, you can't help being a kind of critic. You know what you want in your reading be it on-line or on shelf. I read everything other than text books or ones obviously biased. Sorry, I am not hooked on romance and mystery simply because their plots have been run into the ground. I don't necessarily run to lists put out by professors, reviewers or book club aficionados. That being said, I am your average reader who loves to read, period. I pluck from second hand stores, paperback racks and friends' libraries. Lately, I hound the on-lone freebies for my phone and reader, put out by that big on-line company that sells everything. I prefer books I don't have to pay for to be honest. I read them so quickly that it isn't worth actual money. I do often send an author I like, an opinion about their writing. It doesn't matter to me if they don't answer, but I know that if I were a writer, I'd want some input about my output. I write and have submitted manuscripts without success but it doesn't deter me from continuing to try. Most of my reading is, on the side, critiquing what I read. Bad usage annoys me and it is present because many writers send their manuscripts directly to be published and the latter slap it into the 'net without close editing. Bad move on their part because it takes only one mistake to make people discredit an entire book. Advice to writers of novels or any books actually, is to never lose track of the fact that everyone wants a story. It's all about story. Writers who stare at blank page one for weeks, don't have a story. It's all about that ancient need we have to listen to lore around the fire pit. A story is a plot you worked out either on paper or in your head. Think of it as a kind of short backbone. The characters are the vertebrae and the side plots are the ribs as you work your way down to the end.  It is all that simple. Language is the skin that holds it all together. The spine of your tale should never wander too much into the ribs or have so many vertebrae that the poor reader can't remember them all. More than a handful or so of characters is plenty. The fewer the ribs, the better. Make sure the side plots are spin offs from the backbone of your tale and not ones that segue off into the great forgettable beyond. On the journey from neck to the ending, don't forget where you are heading but don't give it all away. Slipping in surprises in each chapter keeps your reader alert. The surprises have to spring from between the lines in previous places in your novel. Some readers will say to themselves "aha, I knew it". But also don't blab everything into confusion with constant clarifications and descriptions and clever little literary tricks. Don't get cute with your language. Forget what the amusing teacher of Creative Writing told you and just do what you know best in your own natural way. Tell your  story without embellishment or tricks or flashbacks as explanation. Your readers are smart enough to figure out what's going on themselves. At the end of your manuscript, edit and cut. How? Hire an editor and listen to him/her. Cut anything that is extraneous or cumbersome or repetitious. If it takes years, fine. If you think you will make a fortune over night in writing, you are dreaming. But who knows?

For Old Guys Only

Some old men, give up and wear grampa cardigans with pockets and buttons, and yuk, droopy seat sweat pants. Come on, fellas, don't give up on yourselves. You are men and always will be. Get a grip on a good wardrobe, at least, and then do some serious grooming work. You know you like the ladies and others, who look good and that kind of effort, takes a lot of time. You need to do the same. It's worth it. You'll feel a lot better about yourself. Get up from that rocker/recliner and into the bathroom. First shave cleanly or trim your beard neatly. If you can't afford a barber, learn how to do it yourself. And do this every day, not just once a week. It all starts with a shower, soap and a good deodorant every day if possible. After that get a hair cut or shave your head. Here's a secret. Ladies don't care if you're bald or not fellas. They look up to clean, neat and nicely dressed males who don't whine about their aches and pills constantly. Learn to converse about something that matters and doesn't drag the world at large, down. Get rid of hair in places where it grows ugly like ears, nose, neck and upper chest. Okay, I can hear the protests right now. Stop. Women have mustaches, too, but you'll never see them. Women work at wanting to look in a mirror and not run away screaming. It's your turn to take time on yourself as they do, not to impress others, but to make yourself feel good about the you that you gave up on.  If you happen to attract someone along the way, that's a plus. Next; wardrobe. Don't pride yourself on those old duds that smell funny, but go out and get yourself a nice couple of shirts that fit, ties are not necessary but if you do, get a very good one that isn't loud or a joke. Cute old men are just not cute. For long. A good sport jacket that fits when you button it up, not that you will, is standard. Next have made, or properly fit, a pair or two of grey flannel pants. I keep saying "properly fit" because the big mistake men make, is size and not having the store do the adjustments. Get one very good and comfortable pair of dress shoes and a pair of casual ones, too. A couple of nice turtle neck dark tee shirts, hide the flab on the neck and can be worn under those shirts. As a very casual outfit, jeans well-fit ones and a couple of plaid shirts, not logger type, meant to wear over the belt, not under it, are enough. Here's where the turtlenecks come in, too. Put them, tucked, under the plaid shirts. Those who must, get a pair of nice suspenders for under the plaid shirts. And please, not the big red kind for a laugh. We're all tired of cute and funny grampas.  Didn't I say: stop being cute. You're a man not a child! Socks are for comfort and appearance. Keep them dark. With a couple of nice sweaters, fully fashioned sleeves, please, you're all set. Don't give up on yourself old men, get up and out and be a man. Lots of older, nice ladies and others are just waiting too meet you, the newly fresh, revitalized you.

Teachers And Show Biz

Classrooms are places where children go to "get an education". A few decades of being in the profession, taught me something, too. I learned that, as a teacher, you were either a clown or a conveyor of "education".  The clown teacher won the prizes, praise and awards. Putting on a show  got the attention of the students while the teacher who went about things in ordinary ways, also gained their interest but in quieter terms. A number of my colleagues over the decades, were of the clown sort. They could put on a great show either of taking their classes on attention-getting trips that kids loved, or they put on a performance right in the classroom. A number of the teachers I recall who did receive plaques and media fame, were masters at showmanship. They sought this kind of fame and were rewarded for their efforts. All were attractive people which statistics say helps a great deal, and they loved being in the spotlight. All we ordinary teachers loved them too, even though there was rampant secret envy. We were satisfied that we each had our own methods and trusted them while respecting that of other teachers to carry out their own ideas. That is why it's called a "profession". One of these entertaining teachers was  a small person who perched on the corner of her desk like Tinkerbell and put great efforts into charming the children pixie fashion. Her Teddy Bear puppet shows were remarkable. A man, whose mercurial personality and bombastic energy often got him into delicate situations, took his class of youngsters to a poverty district and was lauded and awarded for giving them a special social experience. Other teachers decorated their classrooms to a Disneyland degree with paper products made by the teacher and in part, the pupils. It was truly a delight to watch this kind of bright spot in the school. The enthusiasm of both teachers and students while being fascinated by the glitz of it all, knew it provided a sense of pride for the whole school much like the football, softball and hockey teams did. These days, computers offer a different kind of showmanship in which a student can be exposed to experiences chosen by their schools that enhance with world class education, what  local ones cannot. It all works out evenly, but I continue to believe that it is the interaction of one caring human being with a student, that matters most. The one on one exchange of ideas and facts and understanding, still lies in that relationship. It always has been the teacher who "gets it" with kids, who counts most. There are thousands of teachers out there who are not putting on shows, but enter their classrooms  prepared for the day, a day of seeing dozens of faces looking at them expecting to be inspired and informed: so to open their minds, give life to their dreams and make them each feel uniquely talented.

My Son, The Doctor

Mother's joke this line, but it's true that they think, they'd love to have a son, or daughter, who is a doctor. I speak of medical doctors, not the ones who have offices in universities or other high places. To wish your offspring to be medical doctors, is rarely said by those whose mates are doctors. Mothers, wives and children of doctors know how difficult that life is. To be expected to have success with each and every patient sitting in the waiting room must be daunting. What the doctor really wants to say and what he has to say are two different things. Most of us know exactly what's wrong and what we ought to do before we land in the little room with the plastic bed that is always too high, the padded chair and doctors stool, the computer on the counter and a lot of scary stuff in little sealed bags that you don't want to know about. You wait your turn and when the door opens you are relieved because now you are going to be fixed. You tell your tale, get the exam and wise words and leave with a prescription when your fifteen minutes are up. Usually, you get better and that's it. But sometimes, it isn't that easy and you and your doctor will be spending lots more time discussing tests and treatments and hopefully, working together to help you. What is not fair is misplaced criticism when a patient's physical situation doesn't respond and improve. The doctor can do only what is available and known. The rest is up to your body and each one is entirely different. How each body responds to medications is unique and perhaps adjustments are needed. It means many visits to the doctor. On the other side of this, is the doctor who has to see large numbers of people daily as well as do hospital rounds, take phone calls, run an office with employees and keep up with new developments in the field. The day of golf must be heaven! We lay folk, don't think of this when we see our doctor living in the big house on the hill, driving the costly car while taking the kids to the best schools and sitting in front of us giving advice. It took the doctor many years to reach these pinnacles and a huge background of caring and working with all kinds of people both in the profession and patients in the office. Let's give the doctors a break and take better care of ourselves. Let's see the doctor with a little list so that our fifteen minutes is worthwhile. Let's be grateful and not critical of  people who truly make life time sacrifices in choosing this work. It can't be an easy choice.

Invisibly Handicapped

Brain surgery, even for non-malignant tumors, can leave a person with post surgery symptoms, handicapped for a job search. Anyone, young or old, can suddenly feel weak and fall or have a minor seizure or a terrible headache and perhaps find out that they have a brain tumor that seemed to come from  nowhere. Many of them are malignant tumors but that is seldom determined until surgery, and any kind of surgery on the brain is no light matter. Brain surgeons do the best they can and their patients are eternally grateful, but when the brain pan is opened, any kinds of after-effects can happen. If  the tumor is cancerous, treatments begin but if the tumour is benign, there is still a long period of recuperation for most patients. The after-effects of brain surgery that turn out benign, are varied and while some persons are left with seizures or paralysis or blinding headaches,  others may be afflicted with invisible symptoms such as the inability to concentrate for longer periods than normal, have vertigo so that walking requires strict concentration to not fall  or that they need to sleep frequently throughout the day. Most of these symptoms do not go away entirely. All of these latter folk, need to eat, shelter and feel independent and may find out that suddenly their working lives have ended and that they have to depend upon such as disability insurance - if it is available to them. The insurance folk want proof of the need for disability insurance, naturally, but how do you document "proof" for violent headaches, inability to concentrate or walking with dizziness or are in need of sleep during the day?  What kind of work can one do with these problems? Hundreds of people plead whip lash injuries or back or knee strain  and have x-rays to prove they can't work and these folks are accommodated with monthly pay checks from government, but there are none of these "proofs" available for those with brain surgery complaints. How then, can they earn money to survive? One glib individual behind a desk offered: "guess you have to go on welfare then". For a post-surgery person with a good education, clean life-style, a fine work history, he or she, doesn't want to hear that kind of  thoughtless and condescending remark. Doctors can't sign disability forms without proof and they are the ones who must do so but only if there is proof. It's the law.

Venus Envy

A recent article I read regarding gender transitional situations put forth the idea that more males are wanting to be more female than at any other time in history. I did a double take on that last bit, considering that not many centuries ago, men wore lace and frills, make-up, wigs and high heels, silks and satins to flounce about royal courts. Today men are sneaking in facials and elaborate clothing and hair styles as well as scent, and I think that's wonderful. It says that freedom of sexual preference and expression contributes to a better world, one that has no emotional brick walls. The adage that men love women who are pink and pretty is fading into the past, and women are stepping up to the plate to help bat those ideas into left field and beyond. In doing so, women are also saying, move over fella, I am up to bat next. They are making it clear that dinosaur men who regard women as toys, are no longer going to be able to hold that view safely even among their peers. More women are out in the working world as single parents and taking over top positions very successfully. Most intelligent males in the work force are also on-side when it comes to seeing gender as no requirement, but that all adult human beings, male and female, must enjoy equivalent rights and privileges without prejudice. Some societies are slower than others to understand the times, but change is inevitable and the future is coming on at an almost violent rate. Seeing the disappearance of gender inequality, makes a more accepting climate for progress, one that eliminates that high hurdle to conquer.  Choice is everywhere for both sexes, and women who are not accepted as equals, those who are pregnant with all of their natural abilities to provide care and progressive nurturing are just waiting to birth their talents and rights and enter into formerly male dominated spheres. Those who can't accept this fact are those who lag behind in society. In the animal world where females are the hunters they cue us to see the useful natural drive that females have to protect and nurture that is unique in women but that is also available to men should they wish to grasp it. It seems, now, that more males are becoming wise enough to want to do so. I congratulate them.

Like Killing

When did "like" go viral, and not of the nice kind? While on a three hour flight to somewhere warm, a week or so ago, I overheard the word "like" spoken by one individual, at least a thousand times. I have to confess that my seatmate and I counted, but gave up after hearing a few sentences that were not only peppered with "like", but dunked and saturated in it. On a plane even with our ear buds well installed, this twenty-something, long-tressed, attractive, stylish female, insisted upon inflicting her penetrating voice with its annoying aberration "like", on everyone near her aisle seat. She was speaking to her companion, another fan of "like", the whole time, while giving us her full autobiography in verbal high colour. If I could have edited her conversation, and that of her clone "like" user, removing the offensive four letter word, it would leave little else other than news that she had a degree from a prodigious university and was pursuing another one, was rich and spoiled, and heading to a dance studio for a refurbishing of her fine artistic talents. Her protegee, occasionally, inserted among the voluminous "like" overkill across the aisle, a suitably obsequious "like wow", "like how cool" or "like I wish". The word "like" that takes up a few inches in Websters, means more or less, a similarity or something one has a fondness for. What it means in the way aforementioned infamy, on the plane trip, is utterly mysterious. I think it is more or less like (!) an ahem or a cough-cough or in terms of punctuation, a dash with benefits. There is no meaning to it at all. In fact, it is much like another maddening word overused constantly, "right?" But the insertion word "right" is something for another usage rant, on another day. Most of us  don't listen to ourselves much and if we did, the English language would improve enormously. We would find out our flaws very quickly and hopefully improve our banterings, but I fear that the use of diction addictions such as certain four letter words like (!) "like", "awesome", "right" and their ruder cousins,  would be replaced by others perhaps worse, like very quickly.