Roller Coaster Life

I can’t keep up with ups and downs of the COVID spikes. They’re like a roller coaster. All I know is that California remains in quarantine and that means I continue to be stuck at home with Alf and the hound.

We’re barking at each other more than usual. We’re reading more, watching more TV, and needing more sleep. By the time we emerge from this, like bears after a winter’s hibernation, we may not recognize who we are. We’ll need to introduce ourselves all over again to family and friends.

“Remember me? I’m your mother.”

“I thought you were dead,” my daughter would say.

“Not dead, just buried,” I would say.

“You look a little long in the tooth,” she would say.

“That’s better than crinkly skin and hollow eyes.”

“You’re almost there. You need to soak in a milk bath and soften up,” she would say.

“As long as it’s almond sweet with lots of rubber ducks with me.”

Calvin says, “Has someone told you you’re brain is rotting too?”

A Ringless Night

Yesterday on the subway, I unzipped the compartment in my purse where I keep my phone, and discovered it was missing.

My heart stopped.

I searched every nook and cranny. Nada.  

I began to hyperventilate.

Had I dropped it on my walk to the station? Not unless my purse bottomed out and disgorged its contents onto the street like a piñata.

Did a pickpocket steal it? No, nobody came near me, bumped me, or distracted me, unless you call a series of cute youngsters walking their even cuter pooches a distraction.

I slumped down in my seat and mentally went through the steps I take when readying myself to go home.

That’s when it hit me.

I left the phone on my desk.

How is that possible?

It’s my right arm, my lifeline, my entertainment, my reading, my video watching, my Internet searching, my photo catalog, my music, my note taking, my contacts, my phone numbers, my camera, my clock, my calculator, my calendar, my memory and my brain!

I was devastated.

Sweat beads appeared on my upper lip.

I told myself to calm down.

It was only a phone.

Millions live without one and are quite happy.

Right. But I wasn’t millions.

I needed my phone. Now!

I tossed the idea around of going back to retrieve it, but I was too far into the commute home by then.

Oh well, I said, you needed some peace and quiet so here’s your chance.

Okay. Let’s see what life is like while being shut off from the world.

Alf picked me up at the station and as soon as I climbed into the car, I said, “I need to use your phone, to call the kids, to tell them they can’t call me because I don’t have my phone with me tonight.”

Calvin says, “You’re a nut case. I don’t need a phone. I come with an internal clock that notifies me everyday when it’s dinner time. What else do you need?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s With The Coffee Controversy Again

We’ve been told forever that coffee and caffeine were bad for our health.

So we cut back from 12 cups a day to 6.

Still too much, said the doctors, but we ignored them. Caffeine withdrawal headaches were like death. You got all the flu-like symptoms of weakness, tremors, and nausea without the flu. Who wanted that? At least with the flu you got the added benefit of calling in sick from work.

Our bodies clamored for caffeine and we said yes.

Besides, coffee wakes you up in the morning, and keeps you purring during the day. It also gives you energy, a fake energy but who cares, energy is energy.

And it’s always a great finish to a good dinner. A great excuse to have a conversation. And a must-have if you’re a writer in a cafe.

This week we heard another report. It came from The New England Journal of Medicine. It said that frequent coffee drinkers have a chance of living longer than their de-caffeinated brothers and sisters.

People who drink the brew have a lower risk of dying from diabetes, heart disease, infections, and respiratory problems, to name a few.

If that’s true, I say haul in the grinders and let’s have a percolating party.

Of course, the study didn’t say if drinking more coffee would ensure better health. That’s for us to find out.

So crunch those beans and down that espresso.

Whether you drown your cafe in cream or soy, take it with or without foam, make sure it’s fully leaded and strong.

Coffee – it builds better bodies.

Calvin says, “Can’t stand the stuff. Now chocolate. There’s a theme. Send me a pound box. Assorted.” 

Fabio Isn’t Fab

I overheard two girls talking in the corner coffee shop. One of them said, “Why settle for a good man when I have a great man?”

That’s the mantra among the single set. Nobody wants normal. The guys want the swimsuit model and the gals want Fabio with an attitude.

I have news. The swimsuit model doesn’t eat, she lives on liquids to keep her stomach flat.

With Fabio, there’s only one face in the mirror he wants to admire and it’s not yours.

The Fabios make lousy husbands.

The swimsuits have no room in their bikinis for anybody but themselves.

So what’s a single person to do?

I say look for the person with character. Now there’s an old fashioned word for you.

It refers to a person with a combination of outer and inner qualities that sets him or her apart from the crowd. Someone with substance, an individual, dare I say, different?

That person will not be Mr. Brawn or Ms. Sexy.

He will most likely be the last one to grab the spotlight at a party and the first one to wash the dishes when everybody else has gone home.

She’ll be more interested in your mind than in your muscles.

A person with character has staying power.

He won’t trade you in for the next image in stilettos. He actually wants a wife, a family, a home. That’s another old fashioned idea.

These men do exist, so look around. He’s not flipping through his smart phone, nor is he wearing ear buds. He’s the one behind the newspaper. He still reads.

Calvin says, “Quality stands out. I only go out with other beagles. Registered. AKC. Is that too snobby?”

There’s Real And Then There’s Real

At a cafe. Lunch break. Two techies drinking coffee and talking.

Techie 1: You have no patience for obvious arguments. You want the different, the new, the next creative idea.

Techie 2: I want the real.

Techie 1: What if it’s not out there?

Techie 2: The real is always out there, even if I have to invent it.

Techie 1: If it’s invented then it’s not real.

Techie 2: People with no imaginations say that. Where did the laptop come from? Fifty years ago it wasn’t real.

Techie 1: I was thinking mountains, storms, earthquakes. That’s real. Could there be categories for real?

Techie 2: I guess. Maybe theory vs absoluteness. The laptop started as a theory but became an absolute.

Techie 1: And an earthquake is an absolute and will never be a theory. We’re talking origins.

Techie 2 – checking his cell phone: That’s way too philosophical for me.

Calvin says, “Good grief. That’s enough to scramble my beagle brains. How about we talk farts and bad doggie breath? Now that’s real.”

Conversations on the Run5

Her reaction was a few seconds behind normal.

FBI, Ma’am. You have a stolen stove top.

When I woke up the morning was already there, waiting for me, and without my having to do anything.

I didn’t know pigeons had cheeks.

He had his friend, Wooly help him with the snowflakes.

Life keeps some people up more than others.

In her spare time, she sang arias to the squirrels.

It’s not who, what, when, where or how anymore. It’s, “Does this grip your heart?”

Calvin says, “If the FBI knocked on my house, I’d vomit up the truffles I stole from the candy dish before I’d give up anything else.”

Conversations on the Run4

If you leave your coffee on the hood of the car, and it drops, somebody else will drink it.

Don’t date Fabio. The most popular guy in school won’t make a good husband.

The Queen has a facebook page, but you can’t poke her.

I used to think God lived in a confessional booth. Now I think he lives on facebook.

Sister Boom-Boom was no sister.

Your brain doesn’t crunch.

The film was super lo-budge.

Calvin says, “I need a facebook page for my fans. And you can poke me anytime.”