Sunday morning I decided to take the train into NYC to visit my boys. What a mistake. Not the visit but the method of transportation at that particular day and time. I didn’t realize it was a Yankees-home-game and that suburban families from upstate NY would be making the long journey with me. And I didn’t even bring headphones…
Toddlers cried incessantly and crawled all over the seats until their indulgent parents gave them their very expensive phones to play with… Men, way too old to still be wearing the names of other grown men on their Yankees jerseys and t-shirts, strutted around the aisles ‘replaying’ past Yankees highlights.
Look, I have nothing against America’s favorite pastime. I think it’s an overpriced day out but to each their own (the train ticket price alone was staggering for these families and I can only assume the stadium ticket price was well beyond my monthly car payment).
But where was the ‘old time’ fun? I remember going to games with my parents and older brother. It didn’t bankrupt us and we needn’t bring our own food from home because it was mostly affordable. And actually keeping score was a skill we perfected after repeated attendance and something that made us feel like a part of the entire ballgame experience.
Somewhere along the lines the rules changed. Prices skyrocketed and manners plummeted. I wouldn’t bring a young child to a game today – they’d hear foul (pun intended) language; reek of warm, spilled beer and be exposed to a world of entitlement, rudeness and bad sportsmanship.
But, hey, how else will they learn how to act on their own school turf?!
The end is coming… sounds dire, right? Well, that all depends. If you truly believe in quality over quantity, you already know how to make the most of your time. Most people, when asked if they’d like to know when they’re going to die, prefer remaining ignorantly blissful. What kind of life would you have if you spent every waking hour waiting for it to end?
We are given warnings about our wellbeing since the moment we begin to understand: “Don’t touch the hot stove,” “Don’t pet the loose dog,” “Don’t smoke cigarettes,” Don’t Don’t Don’t.
All the advanced notices and ‘heads up’ in the world continue to fall on deaf ears every day. Some people are no brighter than a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car. That’s on them. There’s an old expression, “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on ME.” In life, you don’t always get a second chance so it’s best to keep your eyes wide open and your head up at all times!*
*especially people who walk around with their head down and their eyes glued to their phones…
Why don’t people smile anymore? Walk down any city street and this is what you’ll see:
- People arguing on their phones
- People frowning unhappily
- People rushing and bumping, unapologetically, into one another
Why bother spending an hour in the morning, getting ready to go out into the world, only to scowl and rant and rave… who’s going to notice all the time you just spent primping?
Did you ever watch or hear someone yawn and (all of a sudden) you yawn, too? It’s oddly contagious. So why doesn’t one smile beget another? You smile if you hear a baby doing that ‘uncontrollable giggle’ thing or when you see ANY animal video on YouTube. But there don’t seem to be that many moments in our own lives where we just LAUGH.
Next time you have a soda or a milkshake, try blowing bubbles through the straw… We used to love doing that as children. Or spontaneously break into a happy dance for no particular reason. If someone happens to catch you, hopefully they’ll laugh along with you. If not, you just bought yourself a one-way ticket to the funny farm!
Over the hill… depending on which century you were born in, the end of that sentence could go one of two ways:
1) and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go OR
2) you old bag o’ bones
Those of us born in the 20th century most likely think of Little Red Riding Hood and The Big Bad Wolf. The rest of you probably think about the rest of US old timers. That could mean anyone over the age of 30 or pretty much anyone who still remembers:
- cassette tapes
- cordless phones
- FAX machines
But, as they say, you’re only as old as you feel. Or, in dog years, you’re already dead. Or, forty isn’t old if you’re a tree. Or, once you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed. Or, as I choose to think of it, I’d rather be over the hill than under it!
How many of us, on a daily basis, have lost (oh, okay, misplaced) our keys? It’s by no means the end of the world as we know it. It’s just a case of senior moment-itis. Or is it…?
And it’s not just our keys anymore either. We lose our phones and our wallets, too. But it doesn’t end there. We carry around so much weight (women particularly) because of all the stuff we insist on taking with us in our handbags – just to leave the house:
- Multiple forms of ID
- Breath mints
- Feminine products
- Pen and paper (if you’re my Mom and you don’t have a smart phone)
- Coupons (if you’re my Mom and you can’t resist a sale)
- Tissues (if you’re my Mom and you can find multiple uses for them)
Don’t even get me started on the room-to-room surveillance mission. I tell myself each and every time that I needn’t write stuff down because I’m just going to the next room… Then, as I look around (helplessly trying to find a clue as to what I came into that room for), I start taking a mental picture of my surroundings:
- Will something familiar tip me off?
- Will an object just magically appear in front of my eyes?
- Maybe if I retrace my steps it’ll all suddenly become crystal clear?
I could go on and on and on but I need to go out and run some errands… See my keys?!