Yes, the economy has tanked, and yes, I know you miss your Manolos. But what a great opportunity there is to count our blessings, no matter how simple yet sublime…
In the last issue, I listed things in Life which make me smile- old telephones, vintage films, and wacky table lamps. However, a life filled with stuff can get a bit lonely- and in my case, a little crowded. Some of the joys in this journey we call LIFE are submitted below:
Your best buddy will always be there for you, even if you’ve had a falling out and he says he’d rather stick his arm in a Waring blender than talk to you again. Really. Pals are forever- friends are people you meet in bars or at Job Fairs. A pal will let you crash on his couch, loan you his Honda, and float you a few bucks til payday. He will never remind you to pay him back. But you will.
A pal is to the heart what a dog is to the soul.
Big ones, small ones, dogs that climb on rocks. I don’t care if they’re manicured like fashionistas or ruff-n-ready Heinz 57’s. We may love them because they can’t speak- if they could, they’d bitch about never getting enough snacks and walks. Who among us hasn’t had an absolutely awful day (the boss hates me, my Chevy Caprice imploded, my hair burst into flames, and the ATM ate my card- twice) and yet, when we arrive home, our exhausted faces are reflected in the adoring eyes of our best canine friend? Yes, Virginia, I like cats, too, but a cat will not blindly, selflessly hurl itself into a stand of poison ivy to retrieve a fuzzy green tennis ball for his Master.
If you’re a pre-adolescent boy, close your eyes for this one. True love is not only ‘never having to say you’re sorry’: it’s never doing anything mean, unreasonable or litigious to the object of your affections in the first place. True love is gazing at a spray of spectacular roses and not bemoaning the carbon footprint that got them here. True love is singing loudly- LOUDLY! – in the street, and not caring if you sound like Yma Sumac on anabolic steroids. True love means you’ll be devoted forever, or at least for a few weeks, and maybe before you’re served papers. True love is clean and real and new- a lot like a crisp pair of 501s.
Bruce Willis is God. End of story.
God is not an action hero. He just wants us to get along with each other, especially on the other 364 days that aren’t Christmas Day. He really doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor or gay or straight or even if you like sprinkles on your ice cream. His message is simple- it‘s all about love!
NAPS, MILK & COOKIES
Never underrate the importance of a nap. Ten minute ‘power’ naps are for alcoholic executives and stay-at-home Moms who skipped birth control. I’m talking about a two-blanket, two-hour nap: flat, on your back, snoring-like-a- freight-train sleep. The sort of nap where you wake up and wonder if you’ve been kidnapped. Afterwards, a refreshing glass of cold milk and a stack of crispy cookies- they have to be crispy, not the soft, ‘homestyle’ ones… because
Grandma never used petroleum products to keep her baked goods fresh.
A GOOD CUP OF COFFEE
I like coffee houses- especially the one we have on Cedar Street. But honestly, I prefer to mix my own (a secret concoction) and run it through a clean percolator from 1963. This is why I have lots of hair on my chest. Occasionally, I’ll brew some Café Bustelo – but then one has to crank up the Victrola with some vintage Tonia La Negra and wear cha-cha heels and an apron while it’s perking.
If you’ve never heard or felt the ground pounding, muscular blast of an incoming train, then you are living in a different dimension. Trains used to be the life source of this country. Now they’re just cute reminders that once upon a time, we didn’t live in our cars.
Our train will be back in Globe come October. Leave the driving to a professional.
My pals will tell you that kids are not my favorite- they can’t drive, and big words are useless around them. I believe I’ve done the world a service by not producing offspring. However, there is the occasional kid who makes me burst out laughing, or touches my heart, and at those moments I wonder.
Until I remember college tuition costs.
Be nice to your children, and treat them well. They have long memories. And they, not your broker or hair stylist, will take care of you in your later years.
Of course they drive us insane- that’s their job. If you can run the Gauntlet of Life for eighty years and still remember your name, you have most certainly earned the right to complain about nearly everything. Old people are not ‘cute’ or ‘sharp as a tack’. They have walked before us and they have survived in order to warn us. But do we listen? Nope. Grandma’s rambling or Gramps is living in 1943, so it’s U-Haul time to a retirement village. My feeling is, they dealt with our dirty diapers. The least we can do is let them Depends on us (pun intended).
So there it is. All opinions are mine, and because I live alone, I’m always right.
If in fact it’s the journey rather than the destination which is important, I’d like to think I’m on the right track in taking love and kindness over flat screen TVs and congested freeways.