OVER 50 MEANS SHUT UP AND LISTEN, I KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.

Yes you heard me, Invisi-Gal is telling you how much easier your life would be, if you would just listen to the women in your life over the age of 50...

...one caveat however, I would caution to steer clear of the over 50 bitter ones...they are easy to spot, they flirt with your husband (because their's ran away a long time ago), they make sure to say things like "Lovely dress, I almost bought it when it came out last year."... and they tell you how your children will end up hating you too....RUN from these women...

Now having said that, if you are lucky enough to encounter an over 50 woman who is mentally intact, and she has engaged you in conversation...do listen.

Sometimes it's a simple comment at a register..."Oh I love those shoes, (and wait for the lean-in) I wish I could get back all the money that I spent on $250.00 shoes when I was your age" .

Here's the one I love...overheard at a Starbucks..."You really don't need extra life insurance, what you need is disability insurance"...best advice I ever heard and it came from an over 5o gal.

And of course my favorite..."only buy a house that needs to be renovated if you're under the age of 40..otherwise start looking for a home with a first floor master suite."

Child rearing tips are my favorite..."The word "No" is not a swear word , dammit."

or the wise "Let the kids eat dirt, I did, and I'm fine".

Also understand that Invisi-Gals comment by not saying anything....like when you pick the vomit yellow paint for the kitchen...not a blessed word is heard.

Advice on love is this simple...."Never marry a man who doesn't get along with his mother, because you will spend the better (or for worse) part of your marriage convincing him that you are not his mother".

So next time you are in the Supermarket and your toddler is cranking and the baby is screaming and you are dropping sippy cups on the floor and a woman over 50 steps in to help you by distracting the low blood sugar toddler so you can reset the baby back in the cart...

when she comments that they often give free cheese to kids at the deli counter (a nice way to say...your kid is hungry, dear)...

don't see it as a judgement, or interference...

she has been there...

shut up and listen....

she knows what she's talking about...

....

You know how we all have theme songs?

Every presidential election I sing the Who's "We Won't Get Fooled Again"...just for laughs.

Sometimes when I'm in a serious diet mood, I get a song in my head to keep me going , like "Dreamworld" by Rilo Kiley...hmmm something hidden in that one maybe?

Our theme songs sleep deep inside us and come out when we need them most.I've been thinking about my dad's theme song, mostly because I've been thinking about my dad and how sick he is and how he may not be with us much longer.When I sing this song, I feel closer to him and the song itself just makes me feel good when I sing it..

One time when my dad , my sister and I were driving through Philly on the way to the shore, we got into a great music conversation...I think it was after he sang all the wrong lyrics to Evil Ways by Santana (yeah this was the 70's) , he loved Santana, it was modern big band to him and it felt upbeat with all the Latin rhythms.I told him I liked the band Chicago and he agreed they were great too, lots of horns....boys raised up in the 30's and 40's LOVED horn bands, in particular my dad, who wanted to be a sax player in a big band. But that's a whole other story.

He changed the channel to a station in Philly that plays Sinatra all day or anyone that sounds like Sinatra...amazing...my sister and I were captive until Jersey.

When the channel came in , "On A Clear Day" was playing.

My dad sat up straight at attention and declared, "That's my theme song, I picked it the day I quit smoking"... now I'm in the back seat wondering if a smoking lecture was on the agenda and trying to detect if he found my cigarettes in my flower power suitcase..."I threw the cigarettes in the garbage and never had another one, cold turkey, that's what I did, cold turkey..." he said chest thrustingly and he proceeded to sing along.

That song really sums up my dad and when I look at the lyrics (beautifuly written by Jay Lerner), I can see them in how my dad lived his life; with an optimistic spark and lots of VOLUME!

I can't help but think how strange it is that Anthony-Robbins-by-God never picked up on this one..what a song of self empowerment...it's almost a New Age anthem in it's speak...

I guess the bottom line is that a good lyric is timeless and this song says exactly what it needs to say...and I can't stop singing it.

So thanks to my dad for putting this incredible sentiment in my head for all time.

Now I'd like to share it with you, may you have many a clear day:

On A Clear Day by Burton Lane and Alan Jay Lerner

On a clear dayRise and look around you

And you'll see who you are.

On a clear dayHow it will astound you

That the glow of your being outshines ev'ry star.

You'll feel part of ev'ry mountain sea and shore.

You can hear, from far and near,

A world you've never heard before.

And on a clear day...On that clear day...

You can see forever and ever more!

[interlude]

You'll feel part of ev'ry mountain sea and shore.

You can hear, from far and near,

A world you've never heard before.

And on a clear day...On that clear day...

You can see forever...And ever... And ever...And ever more!

...

Spelling Bees and the Honey of life

Last night my son was in a Spelling Bee.

He joined it because his class needed a 7th player to qualify and he raised his hand, certainly not because he has a burning desire to spell. Very few 11 year old boys do. They would rather use words as targets out in the woods with their BB guns.

No ,I think he did it to impress a certain brown eyed girl standing next to him.

He declared to us at dinner, that he was in the Spelling Bee and it was no big deal if he did well or not.To which I replied (in Mom tone) "Don't you want to at least do your best? "

He thought about it and looked out the window.

On the way to the Spelling Bee, in the car, he mentioned he was feeling butterflies.

His dad said "Hey if it was me, I'd be out on the first word."

We exchanged scaredy-cat glances.I said "Just do your best and enjoy the moment of being at the table, so to speak."

The kids were all so keyed up and nervous , and the picture taking was done prior to the Bee...apparently some kids get pretty upset and it makes for bad photos afterward.

Spelling Bees are done in 'rounds" if a word is misspelled, the child is out and the next child tries and so on and so on. Once they go through #1 through #however many are in the bee, it starts the next round.

My son made the first round, thank God he didn't miss his first word...which was "broadleaf" by the way.

Then came round two.

The word was "chinchilla"....what? chinchilla? are you serious? Why can't it be ninja, like the word before, or football or jedi?

Four kids missed it, then our son.

He missed it, only after he asked them to repeat it, place of origin,and use it in a sentence...excellent stall tactics.

When a kid misses a word, he/she has the option to quietly sit with the parents or go to a special room where it's okay to cry or whine or whatever.

He sat with us. I was proud of that decision.

And we watched the smartest kid in his class get eliminated next and the not so smart kid hang in 'til the final three.

The smartest kid in the class, took it hard...the not so smart kid was living a dream and had a smile a mile wide.

As the round went on, they were dropping like flies...

The final two where brother and sister and it went on for awhile. It was incredible to watch and my nerves were frayed like a pair of seventies bell bottom jeans.

The sister won, and the word was "portfolio"....I don't think I even KNEW that word at 11 years old.

Most of the parents remarked how they themselves couldn't spell many of the words...I kept my mouth shut on that one.

We hugged our son, told him we were proud of him and how brave he was to stand up and go for it...he was a bit upset about leaving on the second word, but we joked about the word chinchilla and he was laughing by the time we got home.

I made sure not to say how life is one big Spelling Bee or make some stupid parent remark about how every now and then the status quo gets it's tree shaken...I think he already gets enough of that in golf.

I just sat back in the car seat and smiled when I realized that this is what I love about life, the wonderful seemingly randomness of it all, just like a big ol' Spelling Bee.

You can't control any of it but you can control whether you run and cry or whether you assess it , deal and try to find the good.

It is the sweetest and most golden thing and I call it the honey of life...because...can't have honey without the Bees ,now can we?

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I'm a Bonehead

Okay I'm a bonehead and I'm not afraid to tell.

Well actually I have no choice...there's no hiding it.

I had my oil changed today and normally I go to the dealer but I'm in a hurry , so, I go to Jiffy Lube...now Jiffy Lube is the place you take your teenager when he starts to get bad grades and threatens to drop out of school.

Why? Because you can tell him this is where he will end up working for the rest of his life if he doesn't get a high school/college education.

It's like that movie "Scared Straight" for white Suburban soccer moms.

But I digress...I always watch them like a hawk and make sure they aren't stealing my Diana Krall cd or my big honkin' pig sticker knife I keep in the door pocket in case I need to cut myself out of my seat belt....go ahead, I'll wait while you stop laughing.

Then I have to sit through the sales pitch of things they could do to my car if I was only willing to open up my wallet and shake it. That's when I say pertly "No thank you , just an oil change today."

When they are done, ewww, touching my car all over and banging things and getting in and out of it , they drive it outside with the windows down and let it sit inches away from major traffic... while I pay and try to watch the car and my wallet at the same time.

Are you getting the drift that I am a hyper-vigilant?

Are you getting that this exercise may tweak me a bit?

Can you picture my quick glances from car to wallet, car to wallet, car to wallet?

Okay.

SO I am finally , mercifully, released from the bonds of the guy at the register who marvels in my all cash transaction...like I'm using my debit card THERE?

I head out to my car, which is sitting there windows down, did I say it was inches away from major traffic, and I get in and can't raise my window...

click click, the other windows don't raise either...

I check the lock-window button, nothing...

I head back in to Jiffy Lube and ask for help..."Maybe you guys bumped something while you were near the battery, maybe you bumped the, the fuse box and the windows won't work"...

the one oil change tech follows me outside....

tries the window buttons, looks into the car then at me and says, as nice as he can ,now mind you..

"Turn your car on."

...

7am.

OmiGod, it's my cell phone ringing....I don't want to answer it, but I'm scared not to, I just got back from visiting my father in the hospital (my sister is there now) and I'm making plans to head back, and I'm frightened they are calling to say he has passed away....

Me: "Hello?"

Caller: breathy male "What are you doing?"

Me: groggy "What?"

Caller: "What are you doing?"

By now I am searching my brain data base to recognize the voice of the caller, and I'm still groggy...but I'm getting the drift that it AIN'T THE HOSPITAL...

Me: "Who is this?" (dumb, dumb question)

Caller: "Who do you think it is?"

Me : noting his heaving breathing..."What?"

Caller: "What are you doing?"

Me: "You have the wrong number"

Caller: "I'm sorry..." CLICK.... I hang up.....

Okay, so as you have guessed, it was a would-be obscene phone call. It's been so long since I've had one, I forgot to tell the guy what an impotent voyeur he is and then whistle that loud whistle I learned at Pirate games in his sick pale ear.

Maybe the fact that he said "I'm sorry", threw me off because it could've been some guy calling his girlfriend to "wake her up" and got the wrong number...and had I been on my game and not so anxious that it was the hospital, I might have given him a great story to tell his girlfriend.

But that didn't happen, and I'm glad it wasn't the hospital, and next time I'll be sure to rock it with the whistle...and that, was my morning...how was yours?

...

Sandwich generation and the truth....

It's been nearly a year and a half since my mother passed on.

Now my father is heading there.

Many of you are sandwich generation people like I am, meaning that you are taking care of your children and your parents..."sandwiched" in between the responsibilities...and it's all one big learning curve.

With raising children you learn terms like Dip/Tet vaccine and Star Wars Clone Wars, late tuition fee penalty. With your parents, it's terms like Living Will, Medicare Part D and what's a chest tube?

It jumbles around in your brain along with that Starbucks Gingersnap Latte and the latest email you received from the Giant Eagle Fuel Perks Mall and omigod is tax time that close?

How do we keep it straight and make the right decisions?

Are we doing this right? Is anyone going to figure out that we are just winging it? Is anyone going to see how scared we are?

No...we save that reveal for the quiet moment on the steps of the porch when we sit with the dog and make sure the Big Dipper is still out there in the night sky.

Tell the dog all about it...he/she won't judge you, or question your decisions...no way, that dog of yours will just sit there, staring at the stars too , wondering if the Milky Way is where Milk Bones come from.

By the way, if you have a cat, no such luck. They will not only judge you, they will view you as the inferior food-walla you are.

Stick with the dog.

Then after you bring the dog inside and eye up that Dove bar in the freezer, take comfort in the fact that your parents were once in this place, and one day your kids will be too, and nobody,

NOBODY, will ever feel they did it right.

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What's Cooking...

Here's the good news...I'm doing a small re-no on my kitchen

Now the bad news...you will have to suffer through it with me.

Oh yeah, complaining , whining, indecision...and that's just picking out the cabinets.

I have a kitchen the size of a canoe. I can't knock down any walls, so I need to be ultra smart about placement and use of space.

The dog is not happy about this.

My husband has put a chain on his wallet and connected it to his ankle.

Cabinet choices, over the range microhoods, hardware, fabrics...all decisions made in my sleep...we shall see how it all "pans" out.

Like you care....but you will Jedi, you will.

...

Armchair New Year...

At 5.28 am I woke up to a searing flash of white light just outside my bedroom window.

Just as your mind races in times like that, my mind did too (how come it never does that during Jeopardy?) anyway, I though maybe the neighbor finally blew his house up with all the gasoline he stores for that stupid ATV, or for the first time in my life I wondered if Pittsburgh was being bombed...

don't laugh, our defense software division at CMU has been a terrorist target for years.

Then I heard the thunder.

I was comforted by the thunder, it's just a storm.

Then another flash of white light.

Thunder.

The lightening was dancing right outside my window.

Our son, half asleep/half awake, came in our room and asked if we were safe. I said , it's only a storm, we're safe ...I walked him back to bed.

I prowled around the house in the dark, looking out the windows, making sure a tree hadn't come down in the storm, then I sat down in my favorite chair.

This chair makes me feel safe, it has all my life.

It's an old blue velvet barrel back chair. One of a pair that was given to my grandparents as a wedding present back in the late 1920's. It's a Pullman chair, which means it was on those plush railroad cars back in the great days of train riding.My grandparents gave them to my parents, who then moved 7 times around the country, carting those chairs right along, to every split level, colonial,whatever cul de sac neighborhood.

I helped my Mom pick out the blue velvet (it was called Carol Blue, imagine that) when she reupholstered them in 1970 after the tapestry fabric had worn to the padding.

Then 4 years ago, when my mother went into the nursing home and we split up the contents of her life, I brought the chairs here.

She has since passed away and I feel close to her when I sit in these chairs.

No doubt our son will sit in it someday with his children, it'll have new fabric but the good bones will shine through.

As I sat in the chair after my "rounds", I pondered the lightening flash, the new year around the corner, and the chair that remains.

By then , the storm had passed.

I believe God speaks to us the only way we are prepared to listen. In other words if he spoke directly to you,in full voice, chances are you might be seeking medication immediately, so we are spoonfed what we can digest: symbols, metaphors, all the God favorites.

The dance of the lightening, the "comfort" of the sound of thunder, the safety of the chair. A glimpse of a cycle.

The New Year is upon us and we are excited but guardedly so because of the storm that can come.

The key is in the pair of Carol Velvet Blue Pullman chairs in the sunporch. Those chairs have seen storm after storm through year after year and they've heard all the laughter in between and just like God, they've held us safe in a loving embrace...

We're going to be alright, hey, I saw the lightening DANCE, not strike...and as I sit in the chair and write this, I can see a beautiful Pennsylvania snowfall and the sun is darting in and out of the clouds.

Perfect.

Happy New Year everyone, see you in 2009.

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Mummy Christmas....

CAIRO, Egypt — An Australian teacher who allegedly stuffed his luggage with 2,000-year old animal mummies and religious figurines wrapped as gifts was arrested Wednesday and charged with smuggling antiquities, an Egyptian airport security official said.
The 61-year teacher was heading to Thailand when a security official became suspicious of the wrapped figurines that were placed amid souvenir ceramic pots in his suitcase.
When security officials opened the case, they found two mummies of a cat and an ibis, a long-beaked bird, both dating back to 300 B.C. The confiscated collection also included 19 figurines of the revered ancient Egyptian gods of Horus and Thoth, wrapped as gifts.

...

Oh yeah...

I know, I know , this bird doesn't really do anything THAT exceptional...what is so funny is the guy singing to it. The way he says the word "penny" sends me into hysterics.
The "pop" sound the bird makes also elicits wild giggles, overall the whole thing is just soooo damn cute...plus I bet you never knew the whole lyric to this song, did ya?

A man and his bird, sometimes that's all you need for a chuckle.

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Active Denial System

I have finally beat the squirrels at their game! I have a bird feeder that denies them entrance. My life is complete and I can move on to more important things like , what does Ed Schlossberg really do?

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A lesson on forgiveness....

While the rest of the world is bickering over parking spaces and shooting each other over a toy at Toys R Us...this gentle man lost his family and shows forgiveness to the one who accidentally caused it.

I am in awe of this man:

A Korean immigrant whose family was killed when an F-18 crashed into his house returned home to survey the rubble and said he doesn't blame the military pilot who survived the accident.
Dong Yun Yoon, 37, lost his wife, two baby daughters and mother-in-law after a Marine Corps fighter plane clipped a tree and plummeted into houses about two miles from base. The pilot safely ejected and was rescued hanging by his parachute from a tree.
"I pray for him not to suffer for this action," Yoon said at a news conference, according to The Los Angeles Times. "I know he's one of our treasures for our country."

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Talkin' Trash...

You can start this out by saying who cares... I wouldn't blame you, but since this is MY blog, I'll tell you this story.

The last time I bought a trash can for my kitchen was over 18 years ago.....18 YEARS ago.

It was a big black thing I bought at Ways and Means, a store in Shadyside that has been gone for at least 12 years. I liked it cause it was big and black (it goes with everything)and had a lid.

My brother in law hated it. Every time he came to visit he told me to get rid of it.

His wish came true two weeks ago.

The trash can finally cracked and I was forced to face the project of buying a new one.

I am a major pain in the ass consumer, I research and research and bug everybody til I find exactly the perfect most incredible awesome product.

I have moved into the new century in all it's glorious trash technology and purchased a Touchless Trash can...18 stainless steel gleaming high tech gallons with an Automatic sensor lid and wheels and flashing lights and omigod it looks like R2D2.....

...my days are complete now.....

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See Yinz, Pitt Girl....a cautionary tale.

I will miss Pitt Girl, I read the Burgh Blog almost everyday. Life is local, politics is local, love is local, The Burgh Blog was local.

It was a blog that created it's own neighborhood, language and if I'd had a crack at it, a theme song.

Thanks Pitt Girl (by the way I always thought you were some really witty gay guy ala Oscar Wilde), as we never say goodbye in the burgh, we just say, "See yinz"....

http://www.theburghblog.com/

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Divorce, really.

Invisi-Gal feels very old timey these days. It's hard for me to imagine that people meet on line in virtual reality and then get married in real life and then have affairs in virtual reality and then get divorced in real life.

My head is virtually spinning, for real:

http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/relationships/article5151126.ece

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Making scents...

The reality of being an aging ingenue, is that, while my body may betray me...I can still smell sexy!

I tried out these fragrant oils by Lisa Hoffman, and they are "scentsational"....

You get four variations on the scent to layer through out the day and they are not OVERWHELMING!

Plus and I mean bonus plus, they come in a darling leather pouch, just to make your friends jealous!

My favorite is Tuscan Fig....I am an old timey Channel No.5 fan and this is close only it's an organic scent.

Go forth and smell well:

http://www.lisahoffmanskincare.com/index.html

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This is how we roll in Pittsburgh...

http://streetwithaview.com/





...

What happened to Halloween?

Don't get me wrong, now, I used to love Halloween. The whole free candy, stay out late, TP the Principal's house thing was great when I was a kid.

But, somewhere along the line, Halloween stopped being about inventive costumes and a few soaped windows and turned into the Serial Killer's Holiday.

How many movies do I have to endure about Jason, Freddy, Pinhead, Leather face etc...? People used to try and dress up like a space ship, now every one's dressed up like a victim that resembles chipped beef with ketchup.

Ewww and Ewww!

What happened to the somewhat innocent night of fun called Devil's night (the eve before the eve).

Placing a flaming bag of dog poop on someone's porch and ringing the bell and running away, got you a good chase by the neighbor . Now you have to worry about Hannibal Lechter at the door. I mean I can't even cook with fava beans anymore.

Can some one please just dress up like a garbage can or a dumb robot this year and buck the trend?

Invisi-gal will let you have the extra Snickers for that.

....

Invisi-gal has it all figured out....

The Democrats like to point out what's wrong with America....

and Republicans like to point out what's wrong with the Democrats....

thank you, thank you, thank you, now go talk amongst yourselves....

...

Whiskey Sour grapes alert....

In my day (say this like an old codger) , it was a big no no to "drink and dial"...tee many martoonis could cause you to call an 'ex or boss and say something you can't take back or deny in court.

Invisi-gal has the summary judgements to prove it.

Today, folks have a different challenge, email....email tends to give us bravo because we hide behind the keyboard and there is no face to face....so imagine the emails that are written and sent when some of us get dog hammered DRUNK!

Well, the folks at Google have you covered my lushlife friends:

http://gmailblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-in-labs-stop-sending-mail-you-later.html

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