Halloween is coming, and along with the "ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night," are some pretty scary things out there.
Witches don't scare me. The older I get, the meaner I get and they're probably afraid of me now. At least I hope so. I find that being curmudgeonly and outspoken is kinda fun.
It's scary how fast time flies. It seems that once you get over the hill you start picking up speed. At my age, moving fast isn't an option; time oughta slow down too.
I've noticed that when I'm applying makeup, I tend to look upward, and I don't look too bad then, between that and fresh makeup. But if I reapply lipstick in the car and my head ducks a little, I'm scared half to death by that old crone with the beginning of a turkey wattle staring back at me. Who is that old broad anyway?
Losing my mind scares me. Not that there's much of it there. I have trouble remembering simple things, but no problem at all recalling song lyrics from 50 years ago. But isn't it funny how when you bump into an old classmate you haven't seen in years how old they look compared to you? Scary isn't it?
I have never seen a ghost, but I know people who say they have and I find it intriguing. I wanna be a ghost someday and play the kind of tricks they must be playing on me. Like hiding my car keys right in plain sight, moving my car from one end of the parking lot to another when I'm not looking, and sneaking into my closet and altering my clothes so that they no longer fit. The really evil ones move the darts on my blouses and make the bustline impossibly high.
I find it scary that all cars look pretty much alike to me, but I can tell a 1952 Ford from a 1954 Ford. I remember Studebakers and Hudsons. But I have trouble remembering — well, you know — I can't recall, oh, hell! Where was I going with this?
It's frightening to realize that people forever young in my memory are now eligible for Social Security — Annette Funicello is 65. She has Mickey Mouse ears older than my boss! Bill Wyman of the Rolling Stones is 71, for heaven's sake.
So while kids are creeping each other out with fake teeth, I need a map to remember where I put my partials. While they dress up with fright wigs, I resign myself to the fact that long hair draws attention to wrinkles and lines and a short do brings the eye upward and away from the lines but toward the crow's feet. And forget about the scary blackbirds and crows: I'm dodging vultures!
Time has nothing on Halloween. Time is all trick and no treat. Well, except for black cats. And chocolate.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
Blatant self-promotion
This blog has been nominated for a Blogger's Choice award. There's SO--O-O-O many of those nominated that it'll be tough to win in 2007, but all blogs are automatically entered for 2008.
If you like this stuff, then please vote for it. Log onto www.bloggerschoiceawards.com. You'll have to do a little searching, but hey -- what else do you have to do to kill time, right?
This week I'm all ranted out, but I'll be back next week with more stuff.
If you like this stuff, then please vote for it. Log onto www.bloggerschoiceawards.com. You'll have to do a little searching, but hey -- what else do you have to do to kill time, right?
This week I'm all ranted out, but I'll be back next week with more stuff.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Celebrate freedom from hair
Jay Leno mentioned on a recent program that someone in medical research had come up with a scalp transplant that would grow hair from a deceased donor on the bald head of a recipient.
It probably is just a joke, but I would imagine bald men the world over and thinking, "Dang! Where can I get one?"
My guess would be these are men, who like women, are in their M&M years. For women it's between Menopause and Medicare; for men, make that between Menoxidil and Medicare. Young men seem to embrace baldness.
And well they should. I've always thought bald was sexy. Think Sean Connery. Yul Brynner. Rob Keefe (he's the guy on the Real Simple program on PBS. I think he's hot.)
Young men who notice they're getting a little thin on top just take it to the next step and shave their head. Some of them shave their heads anyway because it's a good look.
Guys in the M&M age bracket have long been in denial about their hair. These are the guys who first gave up flattops and crew cuts in the 1960s in favor of the hippie look. It was a protest back then. Back then the musical "Hair" was making a statement. Barbers were becoming an endangered species. Hair was important.
As men have evolved, so has their outlook about hair and politics. The young men of the 60s who protested the Vietnam war and social inequities by looking anti-establishment have spawned sons and grandsons who embraced the look of firefighters who have always been heroes and who keep their hair short for practical reasons. After 9/11 it became cool to look like a firefighter or a military recruit out to kick al-Qaeda backside, so they shave or buzz cut the hair.
It's a good look.
What's not a good look are some of the traditions M&M men hold on to like a rubber band on Willie Nelson's braids. Also not a good look. Comb-overs are fooling no one. Especially in a high wind.
Toupees are fairly obvious. Some are more obvious than others. I recently saw a man of M&M age who should have known better: his toupee was several shades darker than the fringe that actually grew on his head. The line of demarction that circled his head could not have been more obvious if he had put a piece of red linoleum on his head.
Now Leno comes up with the joke about the scalp transplant.
Here's the deal, gentlemen: Embrace your chrome dome. Younger guys are doing it successfully; you don't have to use the razors and shaving cream they're consuming. Think of the savings. The comfort. The ease. The extra area where your significant other can kiss you.
There's even two days set aside to acknowledge that bald is beautiful: Oct. 7 and 14 are both recognized as "Be Bald and Free Day."
Go for it! Be free! Be bald!
It probably is just a joke, but I would imagine bald men the world over and thinking, "Dang! Where can I get one?"
My guess would be these are men, who like women, are in their M&M years. For women it's between Menopause and Medicare; for men, make that between Menoxidil and Medicare. Young men seem to embrace baldness.
And well they should. I've always thought bald was sexy. Think Sean Connery. Yul Brynner. Rob Keefe (he's the guy on the Real Simple program on PBS. I think he's hot.)
Young men who notice they're getting a little thin on top just take it to the next step and shave their head. Some of them shave their heads anyway because it's a good look.
Guys in the M&M age bracket have long been in denial about their hair. These are the guys who first gave up flattops and crew cuts in the 1960s in favor of the hippie look. It was a protest back then. Back then the musical "Hair" was making a statement. Barbers were becoming an endangered species. Hair was important.
As men have evolved, so has their outlook about hair and politics. The young men of the 60s who protested the Vietnam war and social inequities by looking anti-establishment have spawned sons and grandsons who embraced the look of firefighters who have always been heroes and who keep their hair short for practical reasons. After 9/11 it became cool to look like a firefighter or a military recruit out to kick al-Qaeda backside, so they shave or buzz cut the hair.
It's a good look.
What's not a good look are some of the traditions M&M men hold on to like a rubber band on Willie Nelson's braids. Also not a good look. Comb-overs are fooling no one. Especially in a high wind.
Toupees are fairly obvious. Some are more obvious than others. I recently saw a man of M&M age who should have known better: his toupee was several shades darker than the fringe that actually grew on his head. The line of demarction that circled his head could not have been more obvious if he had put a piece of red linoleum on his head.
Now Leno comes up with the joke about the scalp transplant.
Here's the deal, gentlemen: Embrace your chrome dome. Younger guys are doing it successfully; you don't have to use the razors and shaving cream they're consuming. Think of the savings. The comfort. The ease. The extra area where your significant other can kiss you.
There's even two days set aside to acknowledge that bald is beautiful: Oct. 7 and 14 are both recognized as "Be Bald and Free Day."
Go for it! Be free! Be bald!
Friday, October 5, 2007
Things I'm cordially sick of
Today I'm feeling curmudgeonly. There's a lot of stuff I just wanna gripe about.
I am cordially sick of
*Britney Spears and her children. Not every woman is good motherhood material. Britney's behaving like a child and having a meltdown she should have had years ago when she was having success for being untalented and blonde. Ignore her and maybe she'll go away. Help her quietly and maybe she'll be a good mom.
*The election. I've heard all I want to hear about Rudy, and Mitt, and Barack and Hillary and John. We can't vote for any of them for more than a year yet, so they should just shut up for now and get down to real issues when we're getting ready to decide which one of them is going to do the least possible damage to the country.
* Petty election stuff. Who cares if Hillary laughs out loud? Who cares if Barack wears a flag pin on his clothes? Who gives a rat's patootie if Hillary shows cleavage; if she has some at her age, she should consider herself fortunate. Most 60-ish women not only could fail the aforementioned pencil test, they could hide a spare roll of toilet paper.
* And yes, I've been waiting for just the right time to use that one.
* George Bush's approval rating. He's got a tough job. Anyone might do better, but who can predict the conditions we'd be asked to do them under? This ain't high school; it's not a popularity contest. He's our president and deserves our support.
* Anyone who takes seriously Angelina Jolie, Madonna and Paris Hilton.
* Sen. Larry Craig. Larry make up your mind if you're guilty or not guilty, in the closet or out, if you're going to resign or not, and then shut up. If this is the best you can do with your 15 minutes of fame, then you need to get off the clock.
* The Diana inquest. For Pete's sake, let the woman rest in peace. Nothing anyone can find will make any difference; she'll still be dead.
* People who don't learn. Like the papparazzi who recently chased after Diana's son William in a car with his girlfriend, while the inquest about his mother's death was going on. How often must history repeat itself?
* Pink ribbons and pink everything this month. What makes breast cancer so much more important than any other awful disease so much so that we're shamed by marketing ploys into supporting research for it? There's enough guilt in the world to go around, don't go around manufacturing a need for more.
* Most network TV. Except for Desperate Housewives, Dirty Sexy Money, and Mad Men. Why can't all programming be as entertaining and intelligent as these? Cavemen? Feh!
There. I feel better now.
I am cordially sick of
*Britney Spears and her children. Not every woman is good motherhood material. Britney's behaving like a child and having a meltdown she should have had years ago when she was having success for being untalented and blonde. Ignore her and maybe she'll go away. Help her quietly and maybe she'll be a good mom.
*The election. I've heard all I want to hear about Rudy, and Mitt, and Barack and Hillary and John. We can't vote for any of them for more than a year yet, so they should just shut up for now and get down to real issues when we're getting ready to decide which one of them is going to do the least possible damage to the country.
* Petty election stuff. Who cares if Hillary laughs out loud? Who cares if Barack wears a flag pin on his clothes? Who gives a rat's patootie if Hillary shows cleavage; if she has some at her age, she should consider herself fortunate. Most 60-ish women not only could fail the aforementioned pencil test, they could hide a spare roll of toilet paper.
* And yes, I've been waiting for just the right time to use that one.
* George Bush's approval rating. He's got a tough job. Anyone might do better, but who can predict the conditions we'd be asked to do them under? This ain't high school; it's not a popularity contest. He's our president and deserves our support.
* Anyone who takes seriously Angelina Jolie, Madonna and Paris Hilton.
* Sen. Larry Craig. Larry make up your mind if you're guilty or not guilty, in the closet or out, if you're going to resign or not, and then shut up. If this is the best you can do with your 15 minutes of fame, then you need to get off the clock.
* The Diana inquest. For Pete's sake, let the woman rest in peace. Nothing anyone can find will make any difference; she'll still be dead.
* People who don't learn. Like the papparazzi who recently chased after Diana's son William in a car with his girlfriend, while the inquest about his mother's death was going on. How often must history repeat itself?
* Pink ribbons and pink everything this month. What makes breast cancer so much more important than any other awful disease so much so that we're shamed by marketing ploys into supporting research for it? There's enough guilt in the world to go around, don't go around manufacturing a need for more.
* Most network TV. Except for Desperate Housewives, Dirty Sexy Money, and Mad Men. Why can't all programming be as entertaining and intelligent as these? Cavemen? Feh!
There. I feel better now.
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