Cindy's World

Archive for November, 2012

It’s our annual family tradition to decorate the trees together. We bought our first tree the year before we were married. I knew the tree and ornaments I wanted, waited for the post Christmas sales and bought them all the day after Christmas. Since we were not yet married and had no place to call home, we stored the goods in my father-in-laws garage.  Some women dream of their wedding day; I dreamed of my first Christmas tree. Kinda weird, huh? Since then we’ve added onto our family and multiplied our trees.

We have two trees – one that rotates and one that doesn’t. A wave of nervousness swells in my throat when we decorate the rotating one because it’s like getting the house ready for company – it must look good, lest it be judged. With the rotating tree one has to put their best ornament forward, shall I say. You can’t hang the ugly, broken ornaments in the back because eventually the back becomes the front. It all has to be good.

On the stationary tree we hang the ugly and broken ornaments in the back. We don’t want to get rid of them (why, I don’t know) and yet, we don’t want them showing, so we compromise and hang them where they won’t be seen. My kids have learned to take their personalized ornaments and hang them front and center. They’ve learned the stories that go with certain ornaments. They’ve learned the retelling of the story is tradition. They’ve learned that like decorating the tree, Christmas is all about tradition; no matter where you hang the ugly ornaments.

My local radio station started playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Listening to this station I will hear It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year at least six times a day. This is the time of year for all artists to sing Christmas songs, whether they should or not. Some artists do a beautiful rendition of Silent Night. The other night I heard a rap version of it. Silent Night with people screaming and gun shots in the background was a far cry from the song’s title.

One song that’s made it into the standard mix is My Favorite Things. How is this song related to Christmas? It was in the Sound of Music, a movie about pre world war two. There were Nazi’s in the movie, but I don’t recall Christmas trees. Nonetheless, when I hear it I quietly sing or hum along as I can’t carry a tune.

Yesterday I was in a store and the owner was singing along to Frosty the Snowman. She sang loudly and badly, but she had enthusiasm. I hummed quietly along to the song I’ve heard every year since birth. The good thing about Christmas music is it’s the same year after year, so if you don’t know the words the first time, you’ll learn through osmosis. I envied the lady her bravery.

I hesitate to sing in public when I get the desire, recalling a childhood memory. One year we went caroling with our church group. It was a cold, blustery night. When my father started to sing Silent Night, my mother looked at him and in a hushed voice told him, “You’re terrible. Shut up.” So, the entire night, he stood in silence, trembling from the cold and holding a candle which the wind blew out. Our house was silent that night and for a week afterward. It definitely was not the most wonderful time of the year.

My local radio station started playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Listening to this station I will hear It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year at least six times a day. This is the time of year for all artists to sing Christmas songs, whether they should or not. Some artists do a beautiful rendition of Silent Night. The other night I heard a rap version of it. Silent Night with people screaming and gun shots in the background was a far cry from the song’s title.

One song that’s made it into the standard mix is My Favorite Things. How is this song related to Christmas? It was in the Sound of Music, a movie about pre world war two. There were Nazi’s in the movie, but I don’t recall Christmas trees. Nonetheless, when I hear it I quietly sing or hum along as I can’t carry a tune.

Yesterday I was in a store and the owner was singing along to Frosty the Snowman. She sang loudly and badly, but she had enthusiasm. I hummed quietly along to the song I’ve heard every year since birth. The good thing about Christmas music is it’s the same year after year, so if you don’t know the words the first time, you’ll learn through osmosis. I envied the lady her bravery.

I hesitate to sing in public when I get the desire, recalling a childhood memory. One year we went caroling with our church group. It was a cold, blustery night. When my father started to sing Silent Night, my mother looked at him and in a hushed voice told him, “You’re terrible. Shut up.” So, the entire night, he stood in silence, trembling from the cold and holding a candle which the wind blew out. Our house was silent that night and for a week afterward. It definitely was not the most wonderful time of the year.

My local newspaper reported that San Francisco lawmakers approved a ban on public nudity. Public nudity on most streets, sidewalks and public transportation is now banned. My husband has since crossed San Francisco off his list of places to visit before he dies.

I don’t know about you, but in order for me to sit on a subway seat that a nudist just vacated I’d need to first wipe it with 1,000 sanitary wipes, spray it with a can of Lysol and them place down a towel.

But, I do think when you meet a nudist, it eliminates the guessing game. What do I mean? Men know what I mean. The guessing game is when you meet someone for the first time and you guess how good or bad they look naked. But, when you meet a nudist, you instantly size them up and may realize they’re not as good looking naked as your imagination led you to believe. (You offer them a sweater.) Now you’re able to carry on an intelligent conversation while looking into their eyes.

Looking into a nudist eyes while talking is key. You can’t let swaying and jiggling body parts become a distraction. Sure, if you’re walking down the street and two nude men are walking in your direction, it’s only natural to compare and judge, conjuring up an image of a before-and-after advertisement. As an adult we have the power to exert more self control than a child has over wandering eyes.

If an innocent, distracted child is walking down the street and bumps into a nudist they may develop a sudden interest in human anatomy. If a knee-high toddler is walking down the street and bumps into a nudist, he’ll look up and will be eye-to-eye with the one-eyed-snake. Poor kid; he’ll be scarred for life.

An article in USA Today reported McDonald’s announced that its first monthly sales decline in nearly a decade could lead to changes. One change they’re considering is ‘home delivery.’

Even though our local Chinese restaurant delivers I wish it had a drive thru, like McDonalds. Since Chinese food comes packaged in white, multi sized containers, it screams drive thru. Why, just fill the cartons and throw them in the bag. Just don’t throw the soup as it may get a little messy. To top it off, like a cherry on a sundae, throw in 100 packets or so of soy sauce. I think some fast food places give handfuls of condiments so if the food is bad you won’t notice it with five pounds worth of ketchup on it. I think of it as a consolation prize because every time I’ve used the drive thru by my house the order is screwed up.

I open my refrigerator door and condiment packets fall out. I would have to live to 112 to use them all. Not a reason to keep pumping the respirator. Instead of ketchup and mustard bottles for a picnic, I bring packets. One time I decided to get rid of my soy sauce packets by filling the empty, store bought bottle. I’d open a packet, pour it into the bottle, rip open another one and repeat the process…rip and pour, rip and pour. Twelve hours later the bottle was filled, 100 packets were leftover and I had a severe case of tunnel carpel syndrome.

Christmas is coming. May be this year I’ll give them out as stocking stuffers. Or I could decorate the tree with them. People string popcorn. Why can’t I string condiments? I have enough for the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

Thanksgiving is over. The turkey has been eaten and the relatives who were present physically and virtually have left. An article in USA Today talked about how in our mobile society more people stay connected with virtual experiences such as SKYPE and FaceTime. Research suggests video chats might even enhance relationships as it lets loved ones stay connected, bringing them emotionally closer.

I think this is a great way to have a family holiday. Now, you’re guaranteed to have dinner with relatives you like and dislike. No longer will you be saved from dealing with an annoying relative because they couldn’t afford the plane ticket home. They’ll be right next to you, coming in loud and clear, via skype. Oh, they won’t be able to pass you the potatoes, but they’ll still be able to pass the hard feelings and blame. They’ll still be able to make you feel like stuffing a turkey leg in their mouth when they pry into your personal life, asking why you’re not married. They’ll still be able to play their hard earned roll of instigator, bringing up some past grievance and initiating a fight between Aunt Hazel and Grandma. (Poor Grandma was just sitting there, quietly guzzling her wine.) If there’s more than one annoying relative joining the family via lap top, I suggest you add a table to the adult table and the kiddy table – the virtual guest table. They’ll get the hint.

Then again it can be a blessing in disguise to have certain relatives join the festivities virtually rather than physically. There are perks to having Uncle Ben visit virtually. If this is the uncle who gets drunk and loud at every family gathering, it’s a blessing. If this is the uncle who thinks high brow humor is telling all his nieces and nephews to pull his finger, it’s a blessing. If this is the uncle who belches, unbuckles his belt and rubs his belly after dinner, it’s a blessing. If this is the uncle who goes to the bathroom, clogs the toilet and stinks up the place, then comes out and announces, “I wouldn’t go in there,” then consider yourself blessed and give thanks.

I always get a little sad when fall has past its peak and the vibrant, colorful leaves have fallen, leaving the trees bare. Now when you look at a tree you may notice ugly, twisted branches and a bird’s nest that was always there. Now that the bloom is off the rose, the tree stands naked before you, exposed, warts and all; waiting for the first winter snow.

There comes a time in every relationship when the bloom falls off.

When a couple starts dating, the relationship is new and love is in the air. It’s like eternal springtime. The relationship blossoms into love.

This stage of euphoria has each person showing their good side and exhibiting their good behavior. They could let their guard down and show their true colors, but it’s summertime, smooth sailing…so, why rock the boat.

Fall arrives and the leaves have fallen and the trees are barren. The relationship has entered the comfortable stage where your mate isn’t afraid for you to see them as they really are, warts and all. He sees you sans makeup. You see his him sans teeth. This is the most dangerous stage and it’s called ‘marriage.’ Farting, belching and scratching come to play such a big part in the relationship that the postal service recognizes it by delivering mail marked ‘current resident.’ You love your mate. The two of you have weathered all seasons, but you look at your mate and think, I can’t wait for the first winter snow to hide some of those twisted, ugly limbs.

I told my daughter she could go to our neighbors’ house later since it was early morning. Two minutes later she was out the door. It was then I realized our perception of time differed. For people with no perception of time ten minutes can mean twenty. When my husband claims something should take him ten minutes to do, I give him twenty. When people say, “Give me a minute,” I’ve learned to give two. My girlfriend and I planned to meet at my house at 7:00 to go out. She showed up at 6:45 and said, “C’mon, you ready?” Now when we make plans I tell her to arrive fifteen minutes later so this way I’m right on time.

Then there’s the friend for whom time slips away from. I hate when we’re on the phone and we have to cut  our conversation short with her saying, “I’ll call you back in five minutes.” Five minutes come and go. During my waiting period I eat five pounds of M&M’s and paint the house. Twenty-five pounds heavier and five hours later, she calls back. Like my daughter, her perception of time is different from mine.

Since I’ve started doing speaking engagements I’ve really have had to pay attention to the time as I’m allowed a set amount of it. The other night while I was speaking I felt like an Academy Award winner, on stage, whose time had run out. While I was talking a guy came behind me and started tidying the place up. His hint was not so subtle. I half expected music to start playing (like at the awards show) and the lights to go dark. Instead he took me by the elbow and ushered me to the door. Sometimes you don’t need a clock to tell you you’re time is up.

The other day I was in a store looking at Christmas trees. The thing that perturbed me more than the fact that stores were set up before we’ve had a chance to eat our Thanksgiving turkey was that some trees were super model skinny – like Twiggy. Where are you supposed to string the lights and hang a ball? Is this a new trend that I’m not aware of? Have our artificial trees stopped eating artificial ingredients and lost weight? The impression I got was if you hung one ball on tree it would fall over like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree. Where do people put skinny trees; their broom closet? I didn’t notice the price, but I wonder if skinny trees cost more than fat trees, much the same way one thong from Victoria Secret cost five times more than a package of Hanes underwear, which holds 5.

The whole idea of a big tree is to fill the bottom with presents. Isn’t it? With a skinny tree you put a tuna fish can underneath and you’re done. This is why I think these trees won’t go over well with kids. Who wants a can of tuna for Christmas?

People think of the empty space beneath a fat tree the way they do a big, empty grocery cart – it must be filled. If it’s not overflowing with high calorie, high fat foods you don’t need, then you’re a disappointing consumer. The bigger the cart, the more you buy. One day carts will be the size of hummers.

Go into a yogurt bar and you’ll notice two size cups – large and extra large. Why? Do we really need that much yogurt? No, but the store needs for you to take more, so they can make more. Small and skinny are two words forbidden. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if come Christmas, my local yogurt bar decorates the place with skinny trees. Why, it would be near impossible for big cups and big trees to coexist in one place.

My neighbors’ house is up for sale. Yesterday, garbage day, the real estate agent arrived early and put the garbage cans out. I couldn’t believe it. That’s some real estate agent. The most ours ever did was give a business card/ refrigerator magnet.

I got to thinking that one really has to build a relationship of trust with their agent since they have access to your home. Think about it. Your agent knows when you’re home and when you’re away. What’s to stop them from throwing a party in your absence? I saw a movie where a real estate agent pretended the mansion of a house she was selling was hers so she could impress someone she knew.

Let’s say Wendy, the real estate agent for the rich and famous was evicted by her landlord and doesn’t want to return home to live with her parents, so she uses her client’s houses as her houses.

One day Wendy uses Bob’s house to shower. The next day she uses Mary’s house to sleep in the bed with the extra firm mattress. She uses the gym at Fred and Linda’s house to get in her daily workout. And she uses the heated pool for her love of swimming at the Mitchell’s house since none of their kids use it. She relaxes at the end of a hard day by watching movies and drinking wine in the theater room of Jim and Buffy Clueless.

Only Wendy got cocky and posted pictures of herself in her clients’ houses on Face Book.  She wound up living in her car, unable to return home to her parents. Her parents, shamed by the scandal, decided to move and listed their house. They went with her competitor as they felt they just couldn’t trust her. Pity.

There was an article in my local paper the News & Record which reported that at the Westchester County Jail in Valhalla,NY, officials were leery when eleven inmates filed a $500 million lawsuit demanding access to dental floss. The column went on to say floss has been used to strangle enemies, to escape, saw through bars, to pick handcuffs, make a hand grip and to hoist contraband from one level of cells to another. Wow! I never knew there were so many uses for dental floss; it’s like duct tape – very versatile. The lawsuit stated the jail was “violating inmates” federally protected civil rights by being denied floss. I want to know if any of these inmates on death row. If they are what difference does it make? It’s not like they have to worry about their smile if they’re going out on a date or a job interview.

I think every prisoner should be granted the right to “financial reimbursement,” to the families of their victims by paying medical expenses or funeral costs. Every inmate should be made to reimburse a store owner for stolen property. Somehow, I don’t foresee inmates fighting for this right.

I must admit the article forced me to look at my floss in a whole new light. When I’m at the dentist and the hygienist flosses my teeth she unravels a strand of floss about 50 feet long. Why? How many teeth does she think I have? The amount of floss she uses could serve a third world country or better; break a prisoner out of jail.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve become diligent about good oral hygiene so that when I eat out I take along my floss. There have been times when I wanted to offer it to the people I was dining with. Only you can’t offer someone floss the way you would an after dinner mint. The only way to do so without some embarrassment on both parts is to pray that during dinner the cops come and haul him off to jail. You follow him to jail and once he’s behind bars you can throw him the floss and tell him, “That clam stuck between your top front teeth needs to come out. He’ll be grateful and exerting his right as he flosses.