Not So Rose-Colored Glasses

I’m not sure now if I was so much blessed with perfect vision as I was blessed with a mother who wouldn’t allow her children to have anything less than perfect vision. Regardless, I didn’t wear glasses until my mid-forties.

The way my self-delusion came crashing home is recounted in my story, “Dare to Enter” in the hilarious book, Your Glasses Are on Top of Your Head: Tales of Life, Longevity, and Laughter, now available.

The good news is I have developed such a smooth routine with my glasses that I no longer give them—or my aging vision—a second thought. That is, until the other day when I pulled them from their customary storage place (the unused cup holder), put them on...and they just didn’t improve my vision any. As in at all.

My doctor always asks me if I’ve experienced any sudden vision changes. I’d never given it much thought before, but now I did. What do sudden vision changes mean? I ran down the whole list—at least the list within my knowledge. Diabetes? Glaucoma? Retinal detachment? Probably a whole bunch of other horrible ones I don't even know about! My breathing grew more rapid with each one.

I’m Facebook friends with a woman who seems to have all sorts of weird medical disasters befalling her. One of them was when she experienced sudden detachment of her retinas. The way she told it, she was just hanging out and her retinas suddenly decided to depart, introducing for me the alarming possibility that body parts can just randomly flee. She always describes all of her health issues in detail, complete with pictures. It seems to me she was left in the hospital for the longest time, suspended facedown and immobile, in order to help preserve her vision.

It was so horrifying, hundreds of people “liked” it.

So I started to panic there in my car. I can’t afford a night in the hospital, let alone weeks! And dangling face-down! What would I do?! And worse—my vision was not only blurred, but dimmed! What did dimmed vision mean? I thought of movies where dying people coughed and whispered melodramatically, “It’s…it’s getting dark.” It was almost like….

Oh. I said it aloud in my car because I also talk to myself these days. Then I started laughing—something I’m afraid I also do by myself sometimes these days. Sunglasses, is what it was like. Non-prescription ones. The ones I’d accidentally put into my cupholder where the driving glasses go. So technically the glasses were on my face and everything, but they were just the wrong ones.

Who knew old age was so entertaining? Don’t forget: Your Glasses Are on Top of Your Head, edited by Brenda Elsagher. You might even find yourself randomly laughing for a long time afterward.

I learned at fifty I had joined the army of unwanted men. ~Ray Brandbury, Farewell Summer

Who Says Cats Aren’t Useful

In the past year, I’ve been remembering what it’s like to have cats. I had them before I got married, but my husband repeatedly swore he was far too allergic to have cats and couldn’t ever take the shots. I like almost all animals, but since I’ve never really been a cat person, I married him anyway and lived without cats for many years. (Interesting side note: It sounds as if he has had a miraculous recovery since we divorced and has practically become a male cat lady. Hallelujah!)

Since adopting Catsby, I’ve been re-learning that kitties can be very sweet little companions who can not only run to greet you at the door when you get home (especially when getting home coincides with snack time, and you are, in fact, the resident hair net-less Lunch Lady), but they come in handy in many other ways as well. For example:

Snow cleanup required? Call in kitty snow removal to act as a catuum.

Doilies getting dirty? Armrest slipcovers getting a little worn? Try a furrier solution! 

Tired of the same old coffee table books and décor? Try arranging a caterpiece. Note the ability to double as a paperweight.

Vents too drafty? Stop those annoying breezes with an air catditioner cover!

 Good news! Not Your Mother's Book...On Cats came out yesterday!

I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world. ~Thomas A. Edison

Doubly Dyed in the Wool: Book Signing and Succinctly Yours #174

This is one of the few times I can say to anyone living in an exotic location: Too bad you don’t live in St. Louis, Missouri, because you really missed out on a great event last Tuesday. The Not Your Mother’s Books combination book signing event (NYMB…On Being a Mom and NYMB…On Family) was about as perfect as these things get. We were graced with uncharacteristically cool weather for July—which was a gift all its own because of the way the crowds spilled out of the independent and community-minded bookstore, STL Books, and onto the sidewalks of quaint, historical Kirkwood.

Wine and the most delightful little nibbles and noshes were served while NYMB...On Family coeditor Linda O'Connell circulated around exclaiming, "Eat! Eat!" Several contributors read their humorous stories. If that weren’t awesome enough, owner Robin Theiss donated 10% of all sales proceeds to Family Resources Center in support of their work to reduce childhood abuse and neglect. I admired the selection of books offered in that lovely store: classics, popular, children’s, local. Perfect. And as luck would have it, they ship books! Check it out if you’re so inclined.

Thank you again to NYMB coeditors Linda O’Connell and Dianna Graveman!

Succinctly Yours #174: Baa Wow

Many thanks to Grandma’s Goulash for herding us together once a week for Succinctly Yours, where willing participants are called to spin yarns of photo-inspired microfiction that is sheered down to 140 words or 140 characters. The bonus word this week was “quantify:”

After Granny’s eyesight went, it was hard to quantify the joy she received from her dog, Wolfie. So no one told her that he was, in a sense, a sheep in Wolfie’s clothing.  138

I find I have…a tendency to overwrite, to use two or three words where one will do better. I have to go back and cut and cut. ~John Steinbeck

Ten Good Things About Having All of Your Computer Equipment Fried in a Lightning Storm!

1. No way to access the internet means more time to read books!
2. Many valuable opportunities to learn lots of new things about computer equipment. Even if that sort of thing makes you want to hurl.
3. Bonding time holed up at children’s colleges stealing internet and borrowing equipment.
4. Experience with other cultures while spending hours and hours (and hours) on the phone with outsourced techs in Pakistan.
5. Many opportunities to remember about writing in longhand.
6. Learn valuable lesson that surge protectors apparently do not work.
7. After much thought about how to pay bills, remember that there used to be such a thing as paying bills by mail, using stamps. Bonus: remember to buy stamps!
8. Unaccustomed trips to basement reveal need to spray for spiders.
9. Frequent trips to basement reveal whereabouts of diminishing pen collection.
10. Frequent frustrations necessitate need for “mental health outings,” such as hanging out with friends in a beer garden at Oktoberfest and relearning to polka.

I'm borrowing a tiny laptop for emergencies but am hoping to be back next week!

 …life's like an hourglass, glued to the table /No one can find the rewind button, girl. So cradle your head in your hands/ And breathe... just breathe, Oh breathe, just breathe… ~Anna Nalick, “Breathe (2 A.M.)”

Improper Poll: New Year’s Resolutions!

People keep asking me if I’ve made my list of New Year’s resolutions. Perhaps it‘s a hint, but here‘s the thing. I’ve spent most of my life working on my worst faults. If whatever's left over isn’t fixed by now, it’s not likely to get there in one puny old year.

Besides, if this old dog is going to learn any new tricks, the reward had better be pretty big and juicy.

So I prefer either to think of resolutions for OTHER people…or else pick one easy thing for myself to do. I am happy to report that a few years ago, thanks to help from my daughter, I accomplished my resolution to overcome a Fear of Oatmeal. Want to know the secret? Here it is. First clear your mind of all thoughts relating to snot and boogers and paste and curdled throw-up. All clear, then? All righty! The secret is that you must pretend it’s a seriously undercooked oatmeal cookie.

Hoo boy, that was a lot of work! Frankly, I’m still working on it and have been too pooped to think of a new one till now. But here’s the new one I just thought of. I am going to scale back on my exclamation point use in personal correspondence.

Surprising, right?! I know!

I’m generally okay in public writing, but I am a closet over-exclaimer. And guess what one of my pet peeves is? You got it. I am a hypocritical, closet over-exclaimer. If I were editor of my own emails, they wound be bleed red ink.

Years ago, there was a book series that every high school girl carried. I won’t say the name of the series, but I once tried to read the first book and it was torture. The unnecessary exclamation points alone set my teeth on edge. It read like this:

I went down the stairs! I went into the kitchen! I sat down!

And that was it. Notice I am not exclaiming here, but I want to. Because what any idjut knows is that you just kept waiting for a creature to jump out and eat the narrator or anything at all that warranted those stinkin’ exclamation points, but there was nothing. Why we were supposed to be excited over the walking down the stairs and the sitting is still the biggest mystery of the book to me. I don’t think I ever finished it, either. Eventually all I could do was count those vile exclamation points.

So my fear is that people do that with my personal correspondence. Yet I once knew a woman—another writer and enthusiastic exclaimer—who used to hint that I must be depressed if I wasn’t exclaiming like a school girl. And I guess that’s what it comes down to. Like or not, in real life I have an exclaiming personality.

And after all, isn’t that part of what makes me who I am? Other than the anal retentive need to spell and punctuate text messages correctly? So on second thought, maybe a better resolution would be to ask my writing friends to forgive my over-exclaiming and be done with it.

By the way, happy New Year!!! Do you have a resolution for yourself or others?