Back Then and Now…a journey to old age

bugs bunnyI had always imagined I would  slide from sexy, young thing (yes, I was that once) into middle-aged maturity, and then coast into becoming an elegant dowager, but as Bugs Bunny often said, “I think I made a wrong turn at Albuquerque.” I just realized I missed elegant dowager and zoomed right into crabby old lady. Currently, almost everyone under the age of 70 drives me nuts.

I can handle the rapping, thumping, tuneless music of the younger generation easily, rapperbecause I don’t listen to it.  And as for the abundance of pointless, vulgar movies, I don’t go to them.
But, I suggest the entertainment industry should wise up. Baby Boomers, all of whom have passed 65, make up the largest group in our population and we were savers. Have plenty of money to spend.. If you want to make money, you better start catering to us old geezers. And I don’t mean more early bird specials. Some of us prefer to eat after 4:30 in the afternoon.

Here is a list of recent things that make me question the intelligence of younger people:

gluten free1. A label on powdered sugar that stated “Gluten Free.” Only wheat and a couple of other grains have gluten, so this is like putting on a label on bananas that says “meat free.”

The world has gone gluten free nuts….gluten is not the devil…it is pain and sickness to those with Celiac disease, but that is a small percentage of the population and most people with Celiac disease know what to avoid.

2. Chips and crackers that have labels saying “Cholesterol free.” Again any person with ano cholesterol half of brain know cholesterol is found in animal fats, so the chance of hamburger being shoved inside Cheetos is slim.

flourToday I bought a12-pound bag of flour…the printing at the top of the bag said. “Flour is raw. Cook before enjoying.” I wonder, how many people eat sacks of raw flour?

“Don’t eat raw cookies dough!” I’ve been doing this for years and look, I am still alive. I let my granddaughter eat raw dough too, and yes I know the dough includes raw eggs, and now god-forbid raw flour. I told her, “When I read in the paper that people are dropping dead daily from eating raw cookie dough, I’ll stop. Until then, no way.”

If you lived through road trips with no seat belts, bike riding and sidewalk roller skating with no helmet or knee pads, mecurochromehaving Mercurochrome and Merthiolate (both of which are laced with mercury) slathered on your scratches, then like me, you are a fossil, a living dinosaur and you have earned the right to be a crabby old man or lady.


No Shortage of Stupidity

Lest you think the Sicilian is the only one in our home that does odd/dumb things, rest assured, that is not the case. Just last week I managed to surpass my normal level of stupidity.

phone conversationI spent the greater part of an hour talking to my sister about an upcoming trip the Sicilian, his granddaughter, and I are planning to take the week of Thanksgiving.  My sister and I discussed our  hotel arrangements, places we planned to visit, and she gave me  a number of helpful suggestions on what to eat and things to do.  My sister does not have any family near her and generally spends most of the holidays by herself. Not wanting her to spend another holiday alone, I said  “Let me be the first person to invite you to our house for thanksgiving. We’d love to have you visit us.”

My sister snorted a big guffaw and said, “You won’t be home for thanksgiving you’re taking your vacation then.”

Silence, as I realized the stupidity of my offer.


In Yankee land, where I am from, my friends and I were hardy stock. We swam comfortably in pools when the water was 80 degrees, sometimes colder if we were desperate for a swim. My reason for putting in a pool at our home was to have refreshing cool water to swim in when the Dog Weeks of summer hit. (There are no Dog days in south Louisiana, the heat stretches on for weeks or months.)

therometer just rightI was in Hog heaven in May when the pool water was 82 degrees. “Come in,” I said to the Sicilian. “It’s perfect.”

“Too cold,” he replied.

He had the same response daily until the water hit 90 degrees, then he opted to ease into the water. I suggested he take a towel and a bar of soap as the pool was like bath water. Two days later when the water hit 94, I felt scalded when I jumped into the water.

thermometer hot“The water’s too hot. I have to find a way to cool the pool before our company arrives,” I said.

Like the Baby Bear in the Goldilocks story, the Sicilian said, “It’s just right.”

“Not for me it isn’t”

Plan one: Add water with the hose.  I sprayed water into the pool for two hours, enough to send my water bill soaring. The result: still 94 degrees.

icePlan two: Add ice. I could not find a place that sold dry ice, but the local grocery sells 20 pounds bags of ice. I lugged home 200 pounds. I used some to ice a cooler of beer, and the rest I dumped into the pool. Result: no change.

Plan three:  Add more ice. I called the Sicilian who was driving home from jury duty (see post The Curse Strengths) and asked him to bring home 200 pounds of ice. An hour later he arrived home with the ice.

“What took you so long?” I asked.

“The grocery had to go to their store room and get more ice. The manager told me some woman came in and bought 200 pounds of ice this morning. Wonder who that was?” He said as he schlepped the ice to the pool.

The result: Nothing. nada, Zilch. Still 94 degrees.

So, we all steeped in the pool like tea bags for two days until thankfully we had an inch of rain and the water dropped 5 degrees. I was in hog heaven. The Sicilian not so much. He was poolside waiting for the water to warm.