Vitality, The Real Kind, Can Be Hard To Find

Vitality, The Real Kind, Can be Hard to Find

After a certain age, you begin (at least occasionally) to wonder if you are still full of vitality, or if you are getting to the point where your best days are behind you and you might just be sliding downhill... There are some people you will run across who show no signs of lost vitality.  They are vibrant, alive and their eyes sparkle.  Usually, it appears to me that they are excited about everything they do.  Also true, from what I have seen--usually, it is because they have been allowed to pursue their own dream.  Some hobby or some leisure activity has now moved into the center of their lives.

My sense is that a pastime like golf, tennis, fishing, hunting, etc. loses its charm after a while, so they reach the same point of questioning their own purpose, just a bit later.  I still find a slice of that group facing their second half of life wanting something else.

It doesn't have to be service to others, although it often is.  I have seen people throw themselves into activities that are not outward-focused, and seen a spark of vitality for a time.  But that too comes to an end.  It's not that they run out of enthusiasm, but at some point, they begin to focus on the day-to-day trivialities that everyone else struggles with, and they become participants in the favorite conversational subject of many of my contemporaries--the health issues they face.  it actually sneaks up on you--believe me, I've been there--and before you know it you have spent a lunch you had hoped would produce some spirited conversation talking about the latest medical matter the participants are becoming acquainted with--either through direct experience of their own, or that of someone close to them.

But, now and again, there is someone who finds and sticks with a meaningful new direction.  Sometimes you only hear about it from others, because the actual person doing it it too busy to just talk about it.  The interesting thing I am starting to see is that this new direction is not always the first thing they have tried, but often something they were introduced to later.  In other words, they had to keep trying.  I was glad to notice this, as I recently gave up my third such activity.  Just this week, I have been thinking about it and am encouraged to keep tackling new things.  In the words of a surprising source, to me at least, here is something to look for:

"Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist, but the ability to start over."--F. Scott Fitzgerald

So, stick with it, there may just be something out there that will give you just what you need, if you keep trying.  

Not Much Use To Anyone

Not Much Use To Anyone

Trying to write is a struggle at times, and for no good reason.  It cannot be because we aren't thinking of anything, I don't know about you, but i have spent hours in meditation trying not to be trying to think of nothing.  Not to think of the past, or worry about the future, just trying to live the now.  Instead of trying to change the past or predict the future and spending all our time back there or out there, we try to live the now that we are partaking in at the moment.  Emily Dickinson said that "eternity s composed of nows.  Oh, but I got off the subject.  It was finding something to write about. My mind and probably yours is always racing around from thought to thought, so it's not a blank, ever.  So that's not the problem.

with that said, often what's filling the mind at this very moment is trivial, and we believe what we write should be meaningful enough to be communicated.  How my stomach felt this morning as i walked to my car is not exactly meaningful.  I'll go even further to say it is uninteresting to anyone other than the me I was when I walked to my car.  Even to me right now, it is meaningless--and, yes, it's true--boring.  So, just writing about anything that is on your mind is not a satisfactory answer to the writers question.

Is silence useful?  Ask any mother whose child is just getting to sleep, or whose school-age children are chattering away.  "Just let me have a  little peace!"  But I am writing, so, I am ready to ditch silence.  Why ditch silence?  There are some things we do silently that have value.  Often for many, it is prayer, to others it is thought, still others see it as meditation.  But what about the thoughts we have about the people we love and care about, our wishes that they are happy and safe.  And our gratitude for all the things we have in our lives.  Being thankful for those things, like my sister says, "grateful to still be here for another day."  Keeping friends who are going through difficult times--be it health challenges, loneliness, grief over the loss of a friend or family member--in our thoughts is also something we think of as important.

But a thought suddenly came to me, so I'm going to stop writing.  The thought is from a quote from Gertrude Stein, who said, "Silent gratitude isn't very much use to anyone."  I guess the same applies to thinking of others, holding them in your thoughts, etc.  Just think for a minute how much more valuable gratitude, sympathy, keeping others in our thoughts might be if we did something about it.  Call, write, touch, do something instead of just thinking about it.  To do anything else, is "not much use to anyone."  Bye, I need to do some talking instead of thinking.   d

A Convenience Wine

A friend (and neighbor) of mine asked me to pick him up  on my way home one evening recently, explaining he had to drop off his car overnight and needed a lift home.  Along the way he asked  if I could stop at the store s9 he could pick up a bttle of "convenience wine."  Not knowing  the term, I assumed he wanted me to stop off at a 7-Eleven, or some other gas station/convenience store along the way.  ~When I started to turn in and asked if this one would be OK, he said "no, oh no, you don't know what I meant.  Head for a grocery store, I think."

"So, what's a 'convenience wine'?" I asked.  "A convenience wine bas three (sometimes 4) characteristics," he explained.  "It is usually a screw-top, a white--more often than a red, it is reasonably priced and it is sold cold."  "Tell me why I can't just turn around and go to the convenience store," I said in reply.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.  "It's the screw top, isn't it?  Screw-tops have been used for fine wines bottled in Australia and New Zealand for years.  There is nothing inferior about them.  It's just more convenient to be able to unscrew the bottle than hunt for an opener and even use the opener."

"If you're worried about the quality, don't.  A screw cap seals the bottle and does not allow any oxygen into the bottle, thus keeping it crisp and well-preserved.  Lots of reds require a little oxygen to age well in the bottle, most whites do not.  Corks allow a bit of oxygen into the bottle."

"OK," I tell him, "but why must it be sold cold?"  "That is a a convenience issue, most whites are consumed chilled, so who wants to waste the time waiting for the wine to chill?"

"And 'reasonably-priced' is just common sense.  If they won't let me open it and I have to leave it behind, I don't want to break the bank (or my heart), because I dropped a bunch of money on it."

So there you have it--'convenience wine.'

The Thrill Is Not Gone, At Least Not Yet

The Thrill Is Not Gone, At Least Not Yet

Yes, BB King passed away at 89 years of age, after a career that spanned nearly seven decades, but he is still with us in so many ways--from his own music to the influence he had on so many musicians.  Many had the privilege of performing with this man whom so many admired, among them Eric Clapton.  Their "Riding With The King" CD remains one of my favorites.

Do yourself a favor and find the YouTube piece from two staffers at The Rolling Stone magazine.  In it they include their "Top Ten Songs" from BB's massive songbook.  Watch and listen...it's worth investing the fifty-six minutes it will take.

Of course, "The Thrill Is Gone" makes it onto their list, but it isn't even my favorite anymore.  In fact, a song I didn't even remember is really my new favorite.  It's "Why I Sing The Blues,"and the version the Rolling Stone editors put up for us to hear was recorded in 1969, and it has this understated litany of things that might bring out the blues in a black man of his generation, and it has a wonderful feel to it.

My second and third choices are "Three O'Clock Blues" and "Every Day I Have the Blues."  You see what I mean?  I could not have even named two of these three yesterday, and I'm feeling the thrill of these new/old hits.

You probably would not have stayed with this little note if you didn't like BB King, but even if you don't have the history with him that I do, please invest the fifty-five minutes or so to listen and realize just how special he was and why.  Oh Heck, here's the link--http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/b-b-kings-10-greatest-songs-20150515/

No doubt about it, the "Thrill's not gone, not yet, anyway....

Sailing Lessons of A Very Special Kind

They began to gather at the coffee shop.  I couldn’t help myself as I sat there trying to write something.  Some days are harder than others when you actually want to put the words on the page.  It’s easy to get distracted, and the distraction is often more attractive than writing is.  In this case, a group was assembling, some were being introduced to the others, and some were exchanging hugs as old friends might. 

One person was clearly in charge.  Not simply because she was older than the rest, but she knew everyone’s name in the group.  She did the introducing, she told the rest when they would leave and what they would be doing.  The one in charge was called “Sharon.”  I never heard a last name; this was not a group that observed formalities.

I could swear I heard them using the term “sailing,” and they seemed to be excited about what they could learn.   The group was mostly female, although there were a few couples among them.  If they were on their way to learn to sail, they were hardly dressed for it.  In fact, none of them were dressed for sailing.  They were dressed for walking, for the gym, for tennis or golf, and for who knows what--but not sailing. 

Things quieted down and each person received a list.  In turn, they were urged not to just accept what they saw written down on every “junk” they saw.  I could not see how that was something a sailor would take her word for, but you know what P.T. Barnum used to say. In fact, now that I think of it, I thought I heard “Sharon” talking about suckerfish, and how frequently they were born.  I had wondered why sailors needed to know that.  Instead, she too had been quoting P.T. Barnum, making sure they weren't "suckers."

There was some discussion about entering what was on the list in their “GPS,” and I was back in their wake.  They had to be sailing!  Soon they headed for their cars.  Me?  “In for a dime, in for a dollar” was my thought.  I grabbed my cup of coffee and my iPad, and was soon in hot pursuit.  But they turned away from every harbor I knew about, and headed toward the mainland.  Huh?  Very shortly, they turned off the parkway and entered a subdivision.   When I saw the sign in the yard, I knew I’d been had.  They were learning “garage sailing” from an area expert, “Sharon.” 

P.S.  Sharon H., please forgive me for the use of a character resembling you and borrowing your identity for my story.

River of RoboCalls

Soon we will begin needing to sandbag along the above-mentioned river, but, like real sandbags, these figurative sandbags aren't flood proof.  Let me explain.  This year, a raging torrent of robocalls is on its way toward me/us.  I am being singled out for one stream of calls as I am turning that magical age this year (don't tell anyone, but it's spelled "s-i-x-t-y f-i-v-e).  I will become eligible for medicare, and apparently thousands of telemarketers have been advised of this fact.  I am averaging three calls a day when I am around to hear them come in, and there are others that call when I am not home, so I don't know they have called--no, they never leave messages (thank you, God!).  All of these callers share a single desire--they want to counsel me on the subject of Medicare Supplement Plans.  I have actually answered a few and informed them I am married, and thus have a lifelong supply of advice greatly superior to any they can possibly offer.   It has no impact on the volume of calls, so I have stopped answering.  

Now a "robocall" is officially described as "a phone call that utilizes a computerized autodialer to deliver a pre-recorded message as from a robot" Wikipedia indicates its article has multiple issues and that they need our help to improve this entry.  I'd begin by expanding the definition or adding a sub-category that includes robocalls that deliver telemarketers who speak to you, not just offer a pre-recorded message.  You know these calls--you say "hello" and are greeted with dead air, followed by multiple clicks and then, at long last, a human voice.  If you have failed to hang up during the recognizable delay, you have to get rid of the pesky critter by indicating your lack of interest, declining to answer any questions and hanging up.  If you fail to do this, you will find yourself answering more and more questions and hearing the caller recite a sales pitch of some kind, etc.

I realize not all of you face my singular problem with respect to all the world knowing how old you are and having said age be "you-know-what."  Nevertheless, you too will face an ever-rising current of robocalls.  You may not yet realize it, but the 2016 election campaigns have begun.  Some fool or other announced his or her intention to run for president and I have temporarily lost count of how many more have done so.  That means we are facing almost eighteen months of robocalls--either delivering pre-recorded messages, taking surveys or soliciting contributions.  So, you really do need to learn about a few of the sandbags you might use to slow the rising flood waters.

Before I begin, lets me admit to a few weaknesses I have allowed to seep into my proverbial backyard.  I have made the mistake of responding to survey-takers.  It just encourages them.  i think they shared my number around their proverbial water-cooler and the volume of calls rose dramatically.  Ditto--agreeing to make a nominal contribution.  You see, i was taking a medication that honest-to-God, has a side-effect of making me a bit more impulsive than I might normally be--who knew/  Anyway, it all settled down when I simply began saying "no" to every caller.

Another weakness I have to acknowledge--I have caller ID on my new answering machine.  It's so cute, it actually tries to pronounce the name of the caller--like Meedecay Soupple for the sellers of medicare supplement plans.  I can hardly wait until I start ignoring calls from "Dee Mocrati" and "Repub Liecan." For this reason, I have delayed taking a few steps in this area.

Now, on to the "sandbags."  First, there's the "Do Not Call List."  It's simple to place yourself on the above-mentioned list--you just call 1-888-382-1222 from any phone you wish to add to the list.  No worries, I can do that.  Once I've done that, no one will be permitted to call me without my permission.  However, you may wish to know a few issues related to the no call list process.  I call them the "Four S's" of Do Not Call Land.  The following exceptions to the list exist--solicitations by charities, solicitations by political parties, survey-takers, and sermonizers; only for-profit businesses are covered by the Do Not Call List.  May as well toss away lots of those sandbags, get yourselves a new phone with a caller ID announcer like mine and sit back and enjoy.  Or, get rid of your land line?   But then, you might never learn to swim across the river....
      

What's So Memorable About Memory?

What's So Memorable About Memory

About ten years ago, a film called 50 First Dates was released, starring (if I recall correctly) Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore,  Drew Barrymore portrayed a young woman with almost total short term memory loss.  Once you watch the movie (Spoiler Alert!) you learn that she indeed has regained some recall with Adam Sandler's help.  Almost everyone I know over the age of fifty begins to wonder whether or not they have short-term memory loss; from having difficulty recalling just the right word, to someone's name to events that happened any time in the last month.  I have it on and off these days, from trying to remember why I walked into this room, to forgetting a lot of other stuff like...well, you know what I mean.

Anyway, I have wondered whether there can be any correlation between being prone to short-term memory loss and regularly memorizing things.  In other words, does regular use of the skill of memorization prevent short term memory loss (or, conversely, improve short-term memory)?  I have a boyhood pal who grew up to be a nationally-recognized racetrack announcer (Tom Durkin, the recently retired track announcer for the New York Racing Association (Belmont Park, Saratoga Springs), who also called racing's Triple Crown races for ten years or so.  Every day, Tom had to memorize the names of ten races worth of horses, jockeys and the color of the silks they are wearing.  On the occasion of his retirement, we paid him a visit and found he also had excellent recall of events in our grade school and high school years, far better than the rest of us.  While that is still not "short-term memory," it made me wonder--did regular use of his memory at work cause his memory to be better than most?

Which brings me to today.  I have, over the past two years, taken a serious interest in poetry.  I have tried to write it on my own, read books about writing poetry and read all sorts of poetry.  I continue to  pursue the subject (nervy, in the face of my serious lack of talent for it) because I enjoy it.  At some point, the two ideas to which I have been giving a lot of thought, crisscrossed and probably caused a short circuit.  I decided to see what impact memorization might have on short-term memory.  I decided to start memorizing poetry on a regular basis.  I plan to memorize fifty of the one hundred poems I have in an anthology I picked up.  Today's poem is Shakespeare's Sonnet XVIII.  You know, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"  I'm a little rusty, so I don't expect to do it quickly, but... .if I can just remember where that book is....

Rounding Out America

Rounding Out America

I was watching television one night this week (yes, there are occasions where I sit and mindlessly gaze at the tube, but I always learn something).  This week I was struck by the series of food commercials--introducing new dishes whose claim to fame seemed to be rising calorie counts, although the ads only wanted to tempt us to consume their special treat, and don't real care about the calories.

Today, a somewhat questionable snack moved to a higher level in the pantheon of American cuisine.  We now have the Beef Double-Dilla.  A quesadilla starts out with a slightly questionable major ingredient--too much cheese.  If I.m dieting, I probably don't eat as much cheese as I might otherwise.    High calories in cheese--double helpings of steak--it comes in at 920 calories.  Low calorie meal, relatively speaking, when you think of some other recent additions to the fast food hall of fame.

Here are a few highlights--think of Hardee's Monster Thickburger  That's two-thirds of a pound of beef.  It weighs in at 1,420 calories.  It seems like only yesterday, but it's been around since 2004.  Maybe it's not as harmful as we think.  People aren't keeling over in the Hardee's restaurant, after all, but....

Then there's the bacon thickburger--in defiance of the death dealing reputation that these items have, Hardee's has named this one "El Diablo."  Let's see, there's a half-pound of beef, bacon, cheese, jalapeño slices, and it totals a mere 1,200 calories.  But this little review of Hardee's offerings in the Battle of the Bulge leads to the nutrition guide for all of the Hardee's menu.  Lo and behold, they serve breakfast there, and their Monster Biscuit, I am not kidding, is 710 calories.  Not took long ago, I set out to lose some weight.  I entered my info into a calorie and exercise counter called My Fitness Pal, and it allowed me total net calories of 1,372 per day.  One burger and I'm done--it's my own personal "one and done," and it has nothing to do with the NBA draft.

Burger King, home of the Triple Whopper (I think they only did it so they could have their own four figure entree, and by George, they did it), has only 1, 070 calories in its biggest sandwich offering.  Not the leader, but no slouch.

But we can't just talk about sandwiches, not when there[s the Little Caesar's Bacon-Wrapped Pizza.  It is just 490 calories per slice, but who eats just one slice of pizza?  And don't forget your favorite burrito from Chipotle.  A burrito with all the stuffings can run as high as 970 calories.

People keep telling us that fast food will kill us, but there aren't any bodies found lying around the fast food restaurants.  These foods are just rounding us out, and being well-rounded is a good thing, isn't it?.

Chicken Eggs Exercise Before Sleep

Chicken Eggs Exercise Before Sleep

I am pondering a profound proposition (at least to me) this morning and it leaves me perplexed.  I struggle at times with fatigue, and sleeplessness, which can leave you depressed from time to time.  A good nap helps in many respects, but not nearly as much as a good night's sleep.  But that has nothing to do with how chicken eggs get exercise, does it?  And aren't eggs always asleep until they hatch?

It is also important for me to get an above average amount of exercise every day--45 minutes to an hour every day is more than I have had in my lifetime, at least as an adult.  Doing that helps me maintain balance, flexibility and core strength.  Together all of these make it possible for me to be mobile in spite of some medical challenges.  It also helps maintain my weight.  Both are important to me, and, I guess, to most everyone.  But getting all of that exercise in requires getting a good night's sleep.  In turn, getting a good night's sleep requires that you be physically tired when you hit the sack.  

I struggled with this little problem for the past week or so.  I took a "red-eye" flight coast to coast, West to East.  I got approximately zero sleep, and got home after noon the next day.  Even with the time change, I had been up for 23 hours.  I tried to sleep, but managed only a couple of hours, in part because of my aching limbs.  So I got up, hoping I could make up the sleep that night.  Of course, I had no energy to spend on exercise.  I tried to write, but could not do that either.  It seemed like I was too tired to think.  When i went to bed that night, I felt too tired to sleep.  How is that even possible?  In a fair and just world, those of us who have been sleep deprived and are tired with a capital "T" would be able to sleep readily.  After a short while, I had worked myself into a real struggle to sleep--sore muscles, restless legs, and so on.  Net result--not enough sleep.

For a week i struggled to get back to the right balance.  If I exercised, I'd be exhausted and would urgently need a nap.  We all know that when you urgently need a nap, there just isn't time, so you put it off.  When I skipped exercise, I had sore joints and limbs, and compounded that with getting depressed about the fact I wasn't exercising.  Not exercising also seemed to make consistent sleep more difficult.  I also ate more than I should because--I don't know about you, but this is true for me--when I am bored, I snack more.

Yesterday, I finally pushed through.  I exercised more than I had for weeks, and was exhausted.  The thing was that two commitments I had to others left me no choice.  My regular appointment with my physical trainer is on Wednesday mornings, and I have been playing in a golf league recently and we play every Wednesday afternoon.  While the latter is not regular exercise, we had several cart path only holes, and we walked most of the time for more than two hours.  One of the guys in my foursome--Ron, had received a "gift" from his kids--a fit bot device that counted his steps.  He said it was their way of telling him he needed more exercise.  Anyway, he told us his fit bit thing indicated he had taken 12,000 steps playing the round with us.  My session with my personal trainer lasts for ninety minutes, so I had too much exercise, I mean it.   I went to sleep early, and slept for ten hours.   My conclusion to the never-ending controversy--the chicken egg exercises before sleep.   That is as profound as I get before eight AM.