Category: Amusement In Small Things

Sometimes it seems that the media is trying to make the Trump family the new American royalty. We’re traveling the same road as with the Kennedy clan. On and on we go with the stream of books, magazine articles, interviews, tv, news items, and perhaps soon, movies galore. Or is it Donald Trump himself who is trying to make this happen? What’s the constant need to hear what the Trumps are up to? We don’t need royalty-like people in this country. Wasn’t one family enough for one lifetime? Why can’t they just fade out of the limelight they so greedily desire. Why are posters of Donald Trump’s face plastered on trains, sides of buildings, billboards, etcetera around NYC? Enough I say, enough. I say this smiling, I’m not actually hot in the collar over this, just amused. But do you not feel that it gets boring and tiring to have to look at that face everywhere you turn? And now hints that his children are followling the same route as their father. And why do we need this? The hair joke is worn out. That face always has that-posed-for-a-picture expression. What is the point? Don’t we need a break? Oh, it smacks of the stuff of the Kennedy obsession all over again. Can someone please explain the obsession to me?

Then again, perhaps what I’m really thinking is that we need to focus on our own lives, and not get caught up and obsessed with someone else’s life. The media plays a huge part in the way people view the world. To not buy into this has its own rewards.

“Do not be satisfied with the stories that come before you; unfold your own myths.” -Rumi
www.mevlana.net

My daughter Emi was thinking about ice cream as we walked along the streets of Manhattan. When passing one food place after another, talking about food is a given. She said that her favorite flavors – pistacchio and butter pecan – stem from her grandma’s influence during the good old summers spent in New Hampshire. The roads were strewed with ice cream stands and, of course, we would stop. Grandma loved ice cream and she would always order either p or bp. There was never a variation in this area of her life.

As Emi got older her ice cream tastes stayed the same, and when she went out with her friends, she’d want either p or bp. This usually caused a discussion among those she was with as they thought it was an odd choice for her, and would tell her that p & bp are what old people order. Emi didn’t care. And even though they had agreed that p & bp are for old people, Emi’s friends wanted a taste of whichever one she ordered. No one said they didn’t like those two flavors, and I bet the next time they found themselves standing in front of the display case with all those flavors, they ordered either p or bp. And I’ll bet also the idea that p & bp is for old people went the way of the wind.

No one ever told me that p & bp are for old people, so I always went along my merry way enjoying those two flavors. Yes, grandma’s influence was great in the ice cream department. P & bp have been around for a long time. But I know of only a smattering of people who sometimes order p, and never bp – though once they try it, they like it. Summer is right around the corner. It’s never too late to try grandma’s favorite flavors.

Here’s to grandma.

There are many remarkable things to learn in the awe-inspiring world we live in. When you turn on the computer and you see a photo and writeup of a “celebrity” quibbling over a petty matter, time after time after time, do you ever want to ask, what exactly is the problem? Then again, maybe it’s just a form of entertainment; entertainment does take many different forms.
www.rosie.com

Has a movie ever left you with a dismal feeling? That’s never happened to me in the way it did last week. The main actor and actress have “good reputations.” The movie came out in 2006, and no one I know had seen it, so I took a chance. From the onset the movie depressed me. I couldn’t detect any chemistry among any of the characters. It seems that the two main ones were unhappy with their spouses, and didn’t seem particularly happy with each other. No sparks flying anywhere, just one dreary situation after another. One big blah of a movie. Thinking it would somehow redeem itself, I waited and watched for it to get better. It didn’t happen. To sum it up briefly, the acting was listless, the lighting dreary, the story line weak, and it sneakily dissipated my energy. Turning off that movie was such a relief. I think the purpose of it was to make a profit and not to entertain. If that’s so, it succeeded. I won’t mention the name of the movie; why spoil it for someone who thinks it’s good, but just be on the lookout. Watching this kind of a movie is similar to watching a comedian whose timing is off -painful-and, when we see a good one we’re better able to appreciate all that goes into making it so.

In the shadow of shoppers I’m hiding in a bookshop, taking a breather. Outside the shop’s door are people everywhere-a children’s dance recital, a concert, big shopping bags hanging from hands, crowds gathered in the fast food heaven food court, credit cards pulled out of wallets, you can almost feel the magnetic pull of the many stores.

In the aisle of the mall are stalls set up. Getting by without being slathered with products, and without dampening the Christmas spirit of the overeager salespeople, requires tact. It’s interesting to observe, while waiting for the elevator, the subtle ways people have of getting their point across. Mostly people shy away, except for teen age girls who tend to try nearly anything, including having their hair straightened-with the newest gadget-in the middle of everything.

At Brookstone a robust-looking young man is taking a nap in a cozy, comfortable chair. How easily he sleeps in the midst of shoppers, seeming to not have a care in the world. Many have a coffee cup in hand. I know the feeling well, it’s as comforting to an adult as carrying Paddington Bear is to a child.

Children everywhere and not much screaming or crying today, except for the overextended ones. What are they feeling as they look up, always having to look up, at everything?

This once a year shopping experience is almost over.

Happy Holidays Everyone.

Cyndi is from British Columbia and I met her in Boquete, Panama in the dining room at Marilos Pension. She was game for anything. One morning Cyndi and I were in the town center walking by the street where buses depart for the city of David. It’s about a half -hour car ride, or an hour bus ride, from Boquete to David. From there you can get a plane or bus to Panama City. As we passed a bus leaving for David, two people were waiting by the side of the bus, and when it left they began waving and blowing kisses toward the bus. Cyndi said, “You’ll never catch me doing that. They look so silly.”

About three weeks later, Cyndi and I accompanied a fun-loving couple to the bus stop from the pension. We had lunched and laughed with them often, and they were leaving. When the bus they were on departed Cyndi and I began waving and blowing kisses toward the bus. I looked at Cyndi and she began laughing and couldn’t stop. Cyndi returned eventually to British Columbia after traveling around South America. Just for a short stay. She’s now once again in Japan teaching English, having fun going on auditions, and, I’m sure, keeping people laughing.

Lately the fashion experts who tell us what to wear and why are confusing me. I used to enjoy clothes shopping. Not anymore. Now I think, am I buying the “wrong” jeans for my body type? Is this jacket length “wrong” for my height and physique? Am I wearing the “wrong” shoes with my outfit? Is this the “wrong” shade of green for my skin tone? Is this the “wrong” blouse for my bust size? Or maybe the “wrong” neckline? Indeed! Shopping has gotten crazily complicated.

When you listen to the advice of fashion experts on what works and what doesn’t, you begin to doubt yourself. Have you noticed that it’s almost impossible to get away from the fashion experts because they’re everywhere: on TV, radio talk shows, all those magazines, and now . . . . your friends who believe everything the so-called experts say.

Style means different things to different people. Life becomes a chore when we don’t trust our own sense of who we are in what we’re doing. Let’s do our own thing and be as creative with our lives as we can be. What the heck, as long as we’re not harming anyone, we can make those choices ourselves without any hairy eyeball directed our way. Often what’s called “wrong” is just someone’s opinion, and that’s the part we have to get past in order to be our own fashion expert.

So, here’s to us and knowing what works and what doesn’t as we let go of the cookie cutter fashions and have fun developing our own sense of style.

“We live but a fraction of our life.
Why do we not let in the flood,
raise the gates,
and set all our wheels in motion?” -Henry David Thoreau