THE EXERCISE CRAZE
The latest I heard on this exercise craze is that it is dangerous to sit in a chair. I think things have gone to far. Americans have gone all out to join gyms, exercise at home on all kinds of machines- to stretch and pull this and that muscle in hopes of achieving longevity..
This latest expert claims if your job involves a chair all the other exercise you do is of no value. Ridiculous!
It seems that the mental stress of trying to exercise enough to off set the blah ,blah of all these talking heads is causing anxiety that will kill those who listen.
One of the most sedentary people I ever met was my mother in law. She ate anything she felt like, she smoked in her younger days, her hobby was knitting and watching tv, she had a drink or two and lived to be 95. Not bad for being clueless.
If we continue to listen to all these health nuts we will have no fun in living, it will become so hard to just stay alive some of the joy in life will be gone. I think we need to lighten up.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
REMEMBER THOSE GAS LINES ?
Remember those gas lines? Remember that madhouse of horns and pollution. You almost needed a full tank to be sure you could reach the pump before you ran out of gas. You had to be very observant to even have a chance to outsmart the other drivers.
Remember those gas lines? Remember that madhouse of horns and pollution. You much easier to bully. If it came down to a show down at the pump a bigger car would prevail.
It was always a good idea to get to the gas station early. About five hours before sunrise was a good idea. I had my “nerve” pills within easy reach. I knew I would need them before this survival mission would be over.
Nothing would move me from the precious spot of pavement I owned in that wagon train that crawled to the pump. I could with stand anything- even choke on exhaust fumes, kids fighting in the back seat, a roast burning in the oven. Ah! A glimmer of hope the car ahead of me moved up about one half inch. The lady in the car ahead of me, just had her baby and the man behind me has given up the bottle. It can’t be long now.
At all cost I had to stay determined. I couldn’t look side to side or make eye contact with anyone otherwise discouragement would set in. On one side the pedestrians are calling me unkind names because they haven’t been able to cross the street in about a week. The people on the left are also upset because they haven’t been able to get in their driveways since the gas shortage began.
The group in the middle are the most vicious. They have been stranded for days in the same lane pointing at each other, engine to engine, determined to go in opposite directions. They keep pointing at me. I keep up the pretense. I just gulp another “nerve “ pill and lock the door.
The torture chamber moves at a crawl. By this time its almost closing time and you see the prize- the gas pump is within sight. I used to be so excited to reach the pump that I usually exited the car via the window and I didn’t care if it was open or not.
The whole thing meant I survived that gas line and would live another day to do battle with it again. Will those days again return?
Remember those gas lines? Remember that madhouse of horns and pollution. You much easier to bully. If it came down to a show down at the pump a bigger car would prevail.
It was always a good idea to get to the gas station early. About five hours before sunrise was a good idea. I had my “nerve” pills within easy reach. I knew I would need them before this survival mission would be over.
Nothing would move me from the precious spot of pavement I owned in that wagon train that crawled to the pump. I could with stand anything- even choke on exhaust fumes, kids fighting in the back seat, a roast burning in the oven. Ah! A glimmer of hope the car ahead of me moved up about one half inch. The lady in the car ahead of me, just had her baby and the man behind me has given up the bottle. It can’t be long now.
At all cost I had to stay determined. I couldn’t look side to side or make eye contact with anyone otherwise discouragement would set in. On one side the pedestrians are calling me unkind names because they haven’t been able to cross the street in about a week. The people on the left are also upset because they haven’t been able to get in their driveways since the gas shortage began.
The group in the middle are the most vicious. They have been stranded for days in the same lane pointing at each other, engine to engine, determined to go in opposite directions. They keep pointing at me. I keep up the pretense. I just gulp another “nerve “ pill and lock the door.
The torture chamber moves at a crawl. By this time its almost closing time and you see the prize- the gas pump is within sight. I used to be so excited to reach the pump that I usually exited the car via the window and I didn’t care if it was open or not.
The whole thing meant I survived that gas line and would live another day to do battle with it again. Will those days again return?
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
VACATIONS WITH KIDS ARE NO FUN
Only two groups of people have fun on vacation- people without kids and people with short memories- who have kids and always forget what a rotten time they had the year before.
Once the snow melts in New England the vacation syndrome starts. "Let's do something different this year like have a good time". That would be really different because it hasn't happened yet.Maybe because we're loaded down with lots of hate and discontent- FOUR KIDS-under the age of six.
At least we do one thing right. We always pack light. Might as well because all the clothes will be the wrong ones anyway, and as long as we have plenty of treats, games, and "barf bags" we'll be fine, off and running on the typical bad start. We never forget that healthy sugarless gum to stick in each others hair. It adds a little spice to the trip.
The survival kit we need is against the law. So all we can do is take our high blood pressure medication and dream about tranquilizers and shots of hard liquor.
If it is a resort or simple cottage destination the trip is always the same. My husbands teeth start to chatter before he turns on the ignition. Then comes that fatal question that never ends-" Daddy, how much farther before we get there"?
Before we leave the driveway I've broken up at least one wrestling match, and removed a fist that the bully of the day shoved down someone Else's throat.
On to what I call "the freeway conspiracy". The road has to be out to get us. Imagine to pay a toll to be tortured by three hours of fog, trail or trucks, rotten food and out of order bathrooms.
After we reach our destination its more of the same. Just look around the restaurants and you'll see what I mean- fathers tryind to visualize themselves on the golf course,fighting the urge to use foul language and mosthers giving those "better behave looks" with crossed eyes. Only the "pick-Pocketers" are smiling.
The return trip is usually beyond description. We feel a little like we died, went to hell and got assigned to drive a bus load of kids on vacation for all eternity.
We fall in our back door glad the whole thing is over. Everyone needs a rest except for the one that was smart enough to stay home- the cat. Next year if we're smart we'll join her.
Once the snow melts in New England the vacation syndrome starts. "Let's do something different this year like have a good time". That would be really different because it hasn't happened yet.Maybe because we're loaded down with lots of hate and discontent- FOUR KIDS-under the age of six.
At least we do one thing right. We always pack light. Might as well because all the clothes will be the wrong ones anyway, and as long as we have plenty of treats, games, and "barf bags" we'll be fine, off and running on the typical bad start. We never forget that healthy sugarless gum to stick in each others hair. It adds a little spice to the trip.
The survival kit we need is against the law. So all we can do is take our high blood pressure medication and dream about tranquilizers and shots of hard liquor.
If it is a resort or simple cottage destination the trip is always the same. My husbands teeth start to chatter before he turns on the ignition. Then comes that fatal question that never ends-" Daddy, how much farther before we get there"?
Before we leave the driveway I've broken up at least one wrestling match, and removed a fist that the bully of the day shoved down someone Else's throat.
On to what I call "the freeway conspiracy". The road has to be out to get us. Imagine to pay a toll to be tortured by three hours of fog, trail or trucks, rotten food and out of order bathrooms.
After we reach our destination its more of the same. Just look around the restaurants and you'll see what I mean- fathers tryind to visualize themselves on the golf course,fighting the urge to use foul language and mosthers giving those "better behave looks" with crossed eyes. Only the "pick-Pocketers" are smiling.
The return trip is usually beyond description. We feel a little like we died, went to hell and got assigned to drive a bus load of kids on vacation for all eternity.
We fall in our back door glad the whole thing is over. Everyone needs a rest except for the one that was smart enough to stay home- the cat. Next year if we're smart we'll join her.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
THE UNEMPLOYMENT RATE
With the unemployment rate in the United States at a record high the Democratic party has to find a way to push through the unemployment extension. It is deplorable that we are involved in fighting two never ending wars at a tremendous cost in both money and human lives and are turning our backs on the working families of our country.
The Republican Party has always been pro-war and pro-military at any cost. That's nothing new. Sadly it appears that our President has got suckered in to this war and it looks as if the mess George Bush got us in will continue for who knows how long.
The working people are hurting in this country. This mess was created and in my opinion the President needs to step forward and use whatever power he can to help unemployed Americans. I know as a Democrat that we are going it alone and even if it takes a "Chicago shakedown" we need to get the job done. Then the Republicans will really have something to whine about.
The Republican Party has always been pro-war and pro-military at any cost. That's nothing new. Sadly it appears that our President has got suckered in to this war and it looks as if the mess George Bush got us in will continue for who knows how long.
The working people are hurting in this country. This mess was created and in my opinion the President needs to step forward and use whatever power he can to help unemployed Americans. I know as a Democrat that we are going it alone and even if it takes a "Chicago shakedown" we need to get the job done. Then the Republicans will really have something to whine about.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I'M SICK OF VIAGRA COMMERCIALS
I'm sick of Viagra commercials. Is that the only thing Pfizer makes? Couldn't they at least update their commercials?
That guy talking to his reflexion in the store window and trying to dig up enough nerve to ask the doctor about Viagra is just to wimpy.What good will Viagra do him? If he's to chicken to approach the doctor how does he expect to get a date?
Never the less he comes bouncing out of the office and floats down the sidewalk and meets a "chic" who is obviously thrilled that he finally acquired that magic potion.
How about the competitors commercial. Those two lovers sitting in twin bathtubs on the rivers edge are a real hoot.I hope they get themselves psyched up real fast because waiting in the bushes is a monsoon of mosquitoes and horse flies eager to bust up their their date with destiny.
Hey, I'm not a spoil sport. I'm all for men being more virile. I really hope these medications are not tricky. Men love to be in control. What if these little devils decide to work in places like church, super markets and check in lines in airports? Hey guys are you looking for something to hang an extra bag on? Whoopee!
That guy talking to his reflexion in the store window and trying to dig up enough nerve to ask the doctor about Viagra is just to wimpy.What good will Viagra do him? If he's to chicken to approach the doctor how does he expect to get a date?
Never the less he comes bouncing out of the office and floats down the sidewalk and meets a "chic" who is obviously thrilled that he finally acquired that magic potion.
How about the competitors commercial. Those two lovers sitting in twin bathtubs on the rivers edge are a real hoot.I hope they get themselves psyched up real fast because waiting in the bushes is a monsoon of mosquitoes and horse flies eager to bust up their their date with destiny.
Hey, I'm not a spoil sport. I'm all for men being more virile. I really hope these medications are not tricky. Men love to be in control. What if these little devils decide to work in places like church, super markets and check in lines in airports? Hey guys are you looking for something to hang an extra bag on? Whoopee!
Monday, June 21, 2010
SEA FOOD SNIFFERS---MEN NEED NOT APPLY
Sea Food SNIFFERS-----MEN NEED NOT APPLY
I'm bugged by the fact that the government is hiring men to sniff sea food.All women know that men can't smell!
Has anyone ever met a man that could sniff out something burning in the oven? A garbage bag would walk out itself before waiting for a man to remove it. Smelly socks would become mumified to the floor before a guy would know the difference. If a man can't smell a dirty diaper that was duck taped to his nose how is he able to sniff a miniscule amount of oil in a two hundred pound tuna?
Lets hire women to do the job right. a woman's nose is reliable. If she can sniff out a liar, a troublemaker or a husband stealer one hundred miles away she sure can sniff out a grouper laden with oil.
I know President Obama has a lot on his plate,but he needs to rethink the qualifications for this position and hire women. Lets get this job done right!
I'm bugged by the fact that the government is hiring men to sniff sea food.All women know that men can't smell!
Has anyone ever met a man that could sniff out something burning in the oven? A garbage bag would walk out itself before waiting for a man to remove it. Smelly socks would become mumified to the floor before a guy would know the difference. If a man can't smell a dirty diaper that was duck taped to his nose how is he able to sniff a miniscule amount of oil in a two hundred pound tuna?
Lets hire women to do the job right. a woman's nose is reliable. If she can sniff out a liar, a troublemaker or a husband stealer one hundred miles away she sure can sniff out a grouper laden with oil.
I know President Obama has a lot on his plate,but he needs to rethink the qualifications for this position and hire women. Lets get this job done right!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
MODERN CAKES ARE COMPLICATED
Whatever happened to old fashioned two -layered cakes that just sat on the plate,loaded with gobs of frosting and did nothing but hide a multitude of sins?
Baking used to be a simple art and any mom could pull off a masterpiece. Those days are gone forever. Baking is now a engineering feat. Only a combination of architect and construction whiz can whip up these modern day monsters,
The only reason kids attend birthday parties to start with is to check out the cake. A cake is a status symbol. Any mother who turns out a inactive cake becomes the neighborhood flop. All moms live in fear of getting dubbed with that honor.
Some mothers are non-creative. Its hard to bake something that can swim like Jaws,skate-board,or cheat at poker.
In other words, a cake you can eat. These modern day confections are hard to eat. They're far to active to eat. Plus they're doing such exciting things that you lose your appetite.
You can't blame the kids. The whole scenario makes sense. How can you expect your kid to be happy with a cake, a couple of candles and a few flowers when the one across the street can tell jokes and jump off Hoover Dam ?
I feel like I'm the only one that takes these cakes seriously. I think its a conspiracy. They are ruining our youth. I think kids are better off watching TV the looking at a cake. In one afternoon I saw the Iraq war, two earth quakes and a tsunami all acted out on the top of a sheet cake.
If that isn't enough the thought of baking a cake has been bad for my health, I spend the whole night before crying and grinding my teeth. The next morning starts out with a migraine from trying to decide which extravaganza I'm going to try and stage on the top of a cake.
I've had it! I'm not going to be shoved around by a cake. Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. I'll fight this tide and whip up a cake that will make him proud of me. I did that okay but that cake almost destroyed our marriage. You see I had this recipe for a cute little number that came out looking like a cross between Sarah Palin and Lady Gaga. Can't tell you more.... just use your imagination.
Baking used to be a simple art and any mom could pull off a masterpiece. Those days are gone forever. Baking is now a engineering feat. Only a combination of architect and construction whiz can whip up these modern day monsters,
The only reason kids attend birthday parties to start with is to check out the cake. A cake is a status symbol. Any mother who turns out a inactive cake becomes the neighborhood flop. All moms live in fear of getting dubbed with that honor.
Some mothers are non-creative. Its hard to bake something that can swim like Jaws,skate-board,or cheat at poker.
In other words, a cake you can eat. These modern day confections are hard to eat. They're far to active to eat. Plus they're doing such exciting things that you lose your appetite.
You can't blame the kids. The whole scenario makes sense. How can you expect your kid to be happy with a cake, a couple of candles and a few flowers when the one across the street can tell jokes and jump off Hoover Dam ?
I feel like I'm the only one that takes these cakes seriously. I think its a conspiracy. They are ruining our youth. I think kids are better off watching TV the looking at a cake. In one afternoon I saw the Iraq war, two earth quakes and a tsunami all acted out on the top of a sheet cake.
If that isn't enough the thought of baking a cake has been bad for my health, I spend the whole night before crying and grinding my teeth. The next morning starts out with a migraine from trying to decide which extravaganza I'm going to try and stage on the top of a cake.
I've had it! I'm not going to be shoved around by a cake. Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. I'll fight this tide and whip up a cake that will make him proud of me. I did that okay but that cake almost destroyed our marriage. You see I had this recipe for a cute little number that came out looking like a cross between Sarah Palin and Lady Gaga. Can't tell you more.... just use your imagination.
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