Monday, November 28, 2011

WHATEVER – and stuff I don’t understand

People Magazine just announced the Sexiest Man Alive. I’m fine with that because my wife says I’m the sexiest man alive and I would believe her if it wasn’t for the loud and inappropriate giggling.
We have reached the 7 billionth person mark inhabiting this globe, with half of us males; but did People Magazine consider all of us? I didn’t get a call; did you? You must legally cover your behind making statements like that, so I can only assume that this dude is the one out of the billions considered. I admit he is a good looking specimen (alive), but if People Magazine ever wants to feature the Sexiest Man Still Dead, what I’m concerned, Cary Grant is the winner hands down; though I never understood that “hands down” term. Whatever!
I understand why we don’t hear much about Kamikaze Pilot Reunions, but I still don’t understand why Kamikaze pilots wore helmets into combat; I mean, what was the logic in that?
Do you understand why dogs find it socially appropriate to greet each other using the art of butt-sniffing? I don’t. I’m not sure what kind of information they get that way. Except in some cases, I’m fine that you and I are not greeting each other in this manner, because that would be really awkward. Don't you agree?
Did you know that using the term whatever can save you a bunch of time over a lifespan? Proof: “Would you like the toilet tissue paper to hang in or hang out from the wall?” (Life as it Really is doesn’t get richer than this, does it?) You can answer: “I deem it utterly appropriate to install said paper in a position of practicality and/or choice within the overall decor of this facility, blah, blah, blah…” Or you can use the much shorter version: “Whatever!” Some years back, a Boston University research found that using the phrase whatever can save each of us an average 4 hours and 22 minutes if we live to be 92. But same research neglected to inform us that within the subjects tested, the divorce rate jumped from 50% to 69%. Still, using whatever does save time. Don’t you think it’s worth it?
I didn’t understand why I had fear of heights, until I realized that I didn’t. It was the fear of falling down from these “heights” that I suffered from. So it went from fear of heights to fear of falling down; in some perverted way that made me feel a lot better – go figure.
I didn’t understand why I hated people who have everything, until I realized that it left nothing for me, of course.
My Mother has dementia and I don’t understand what the big deal is. I told her that suffering from dementia, short or long term memory loss, doesn’t make sense. I mean, how is it possible to suffer from something you can’t even remember you are suffering from? – Duh! I often explain this to her as she can’t remember that I have explained it to her before – and then she laughs and is momentarily happy. So I explain it again and again; I really love my Mother.
So how’s your face at this very moment? Is it just hanging there in neutral or are you smiling? If it’s just hanging there like in a “duh” position, make an effort to smile – any type of smile will do; be a sport and try it – nobody is watching. Now, doesn’t that feel a lot better? Even if you fake it? The simple muscle change from “duh” to a smile makes a huge difference and not just physically, but more so mentally and in attitude. Though it makes us feel so good, I don’t understand why we are not smiling a lot more? And we all look much better when we smile…
 I was walking the dog and this group-band- gang-wannabes or whatever came towards me. 6 or 7 young boys, 13-16 years old, pants hanging just above their sneakers, exposing a vast variety of undergarment styles, walking in whatever fashion. They did that swaying stuff while doing weird things with their fingers, no doubt meaning whatever; looking bloody cool and tough. What did Peter do? I smiled at them and did a simple: “Hey, how are you guys doing?” I was met with a huge battery of great smiles and “hey thanks, how about yourself – cute doggie…” and Tess was petted no end. “Have a good one…” they wished for me as we parted. So don’t tell me smiling doesn’t work, because it does.
Okay, so you are faced with a .357 Magnum and a demand for your life, your wife or your money and I’m not so sure a smile would help – but try it anyway; you never know (and good luck with that)…
There are a lot of things I don’t understand. Some I discard with a whatever, but other stuff I really want to find out about; so I do that. Like the other day I was wondering why the name John ended up as the term for a prostitute’s customer. It’s because that is the name most customers use to maintain anonymity (obviously lying to the prostitute; how rude is that?) So I wonder what customers named John for real call themselves for reasons of anonymity? Any suggestions?
Some use John when talking about a toilet. I couldn’t find the reason, but found out that Dunny is the Australian term for out-house; it’s an old English word for dung-house (how romantic is that?) Privy is used in North of England by some (old English for private). I’ll let you know about John/toilet if I find out. Now I know more about toilets than I really wanted to know. But then again, it might come in handy during a dinner conversation some time; I'll make sure of it...

Too much culture in one sitting? - Whatever...
See you next Monday
Question of the week:
If love is blind, why waste money on negliges?


Want to be notified about new posts? Follow the directions to your right. New posts of LIFE AS IT REALLY IS are being published every Monday. Thanks so much for following my blog.

Monday, November 21, 2011

THANKSGIVING – and do you know why?

We lived in a small but romantic apartment in Sausalito (California). In hindsight it was actually a tiny and crappy place with a leaking roof and all; but as newlyweds, we didn’t notice. I prepared our first Thanksgiving turkey. The candles were lit, the wine poured, the table set and soft music in the background. I felt I was the one carving the bird in that famous Norman Rockwell painting. The crowd of excited family members (that would be my wife and the cat), watched with great expectations. The first bites were promising and the gravy made it all slide down so smooth. It was a huge success - until we spooned stuffing out of the turkey. That’s when we found a fully cooked plastic bag with some unmentionable flesh-like body parts; hopefully from the bird. Now how the heck would I have known it was in there to start with? Nobody had told me; did you know they stick gross stuff in there? Can’t they just throw it out? Obviously the turkey doesn’t need it anymore.

The following year, same setting and I was yet again doing Rockwell. This time I had remembered to remove that stupid plastic bag and its icky contents before placing the stuffing inside the bird. But as we spooned out the stuffing, we found a second plastic bag in that year’s bird (a bloody two-for-one?) That was the last time I had anything to do with a turkey other than eating it; true story. (Okay, so I dated one - but that was a million years ago, so it doesn't count).

The first American Thanksgiving included 13 Pilgrims, 90 Native Americans and a huge load of food. As far as I remember this was around 1621. Thanksgiving was initially based on God and church; the Pilgrims giving thanks to God for guiding them to this new world. If I had been a Native American back then, I would have asked God to rethink that whole “guiding to the new world” bit; wouldn't you? Oh well, here we are.

A few years later Thanksgiving was deemed a “civil” tradition, not one based on God and church. 300 years later (what took him so long?) President Roosevelt signed into law that we should all stuff a turkey and then stuff our faces on the fourth Thursday every November – like forever, I think he said.
Thanksgiving is one of the six big holidays around here; the Fourth of July, Christmas and my birthday being the top three. It has the year’s busiest travel-days; so busy that it seems nobody is staying home (would that actually be possible? I mean, where would we all go?) I don’t know how many turkeys are cooked for Thanksgiving, but as we all know, Americans eat 17.4 pounds (that would be 7.9 kilos for fans of the metric system) of that brand of bird annually. Obviously most of that is eaten on the fourth day of November and during too many weeks after (read: massive left-overs). Approximately 78% of the work-force has the day off. Football games on Thanksgiving kicked off in the 1890s (by the way, TV coverage sucked back then). Do you know why the day after Thanksgiving is called Black Friday? I didn’t think so. As the biggest retail sales day of the year, it carries some retail businesses from being “in the red” (loss) to being “in the black”, where “black” stands for profit; therefore Black Friday. So now you know.
I like Thanksgiving though I’m not easily sucked into the romance and glitter and tradition and all that stuff(ing). But I do like the fact that we get together with good friends and their children. We have a delicious meal (but no plastic bags with unmentionable body-parts; another promising tradition down the toilet). But it’s the togetherness that is overwhelming on this day. We go round the table and each of us express our thanks, recognizing how fortunate we are. Three things, family, friendships and health, top the list. Not being a turkey on this day, is a close fourth.
But it’s the smaller everyday stuff, all those things we take for granted 24/7 that gets me the most, makes me feel utterly lucky. Okay “breathing” is way up there, as I’m thankful being alive (the alternative really sucks). But what about greeting the neighbor when walking the dog, the flowers in the garden and the smiles at the super-market, the abundance of choices we have, the sunsets and I could go on forever. We are fortunate and we should acknowledge that more often, be more thankful and less ignorant. We get upset, stressed and angry about small stuff, and it is all small stuff when we look at the bigger picture. So Thanksgiving is such a valuable reminder of what we have and how lucky we really are, all considered. The less we take things for granted, the more fortunate we will feel, no matter what situation we are in.
And that is what I see in Thanksgiving as well as I see it in those other 364 days of the year. If you don’t already do this, you should try it, as it's life as it really should be – seriously.
HAPPY TURKEY DAY…
QUESTION OF THE WEEK:
Can a dog be a copy cat?

Want to be notified about new posts? Follow the directions to your right. New posts of LIFE AS IT REALLY IS are being published every Monday. Thanks so much for following my blog.

Monday, November 14, 2011

CHILDREN – I didn’t like them back then

That’s actually the lighter version of my true feelings towards kids back then, especially babies – I pretty much hated them; nothing personal. They smelled bad, were noisy and irritating. But the worst part was that they effectively took the attention away from me. I can hear you call me self-centered, ignorant, childish (go figure), shallow and other choice words. I admit to all that, but that was how I felt about babies – back then.

Through school and the start of my career I found several great friends. We’d party, have those long dinners with good food and wine, we’d hike and picnic and simply celebrate being young, being free and especially being childless. And then that whole wonderful world fell apart, just like that.

I was about 24 at the time and at a dinner-party. In the middle of dessert the host announced: “Great news – we are pregnant.” I tried to compute the information, but came up with nothing. “We are going to have a baby,” he gleefully said, like I didn’t know what “pregnant” meant. She grabbed my hand and put it on her stomach. “There’s a little baby in here, Peter. Isn’t that wonderful?” I pulled my hand back in horror and blurted out my initial reaction: “What’s so bloody wonderful about that?” Suddenly everything was about babies – nothing was about me anymore.

Then they all started to multiply like it was the plague. I found that the pregnancies were not the worst; the babies were. They immediately took over center stage, getting all the attention – and left none for me. It was the end of “fun & free”. Everything circled around diapers, poop, clothes, first words, hurling, walking and like forever. When I tried to communicate I found everybody looking at the babies, not hearing a single word I said. They were all into “gaga-googo-gee-da-gab-twich”, whatever that meant; they seemed to know, the parents who used to be my friends.

Babies make adults act weird and strange. The kid is in the crib and an adult leans in and goes: “gaga-googo-gee-da-gab-twich” while poking a fat finger in to the kid’s stomach. I can only imagine the kid thinking: “Interesting words; I assume it means something. I’ll repeat and see what happens.” And that’s what it does, “gaga-googo-gee-da-gab-twich”. That’s why I think it takes kids years to learn to speak. Seems like we screw up the babies' linguistic possibilities from day one; true story.

And then they start to walk – oh my. Having them stationary in the crib or attached to a breast I was fine with, but now they were freely roaming the room. If you totally ignore a dog, it will soon try to get your attention; the same with small children. I tried “ignoring” on the highest level; but they figured me out and then they started to bother me on purpose, because they knew I didn’t like them – kids are not dumb. And that was the last straw. Hanging around this baby-stuff was not me, so I fast-tracked out of those relationships. When they asked why they didn’t see me anymore, I told them that I did not like babies and small children; and then I never heard from them again - go figure.

I was about 33 when I actually held a baby for the very first time ever. Somebody stuck Sarah into my hands and said: “Hold her.” Unfortunately Sarah was not 21 years old, but only 6 months. I froze, but held on. Holding a baby in locked and outstretched arms is not easy – for 17 minutes. If you want to try it, don’t start with a real one, use a thawed turkey instead; a lot safer - really.

The next baby I held was our firstborn. Early in the relationship with my wife, a long walk on the beach, her talking about family, siblings and their children, I suddenly realized that I wanted children too – with her. It felt so natural, something I wanted. I read books about children, did the Lamaze thing and was getting ready. I even quit my day-job so I could be home with our baby when my wife headed back to work.

It was the best decision I ever made (besides marrying my wife). Spending time with the baby, feeding, changing diapers and clothes, the daily walks, the play-time and the naps with him lying on my chest, feeling his breath, his warmness and that little heartbeat; it was simply awesome. And a few years later our youngest son arrived and the same thing happened; what a turn-around.

But I’m still not too keen on other people’s babies. Sure they are cute, but I refuse to go “gaga-googo-gee-da-gab-twich” or hold them. Small children are great, really. There is all this energy, curiosity, honesty, trust and utter zest for life; things we adults have somewhat forgotten, things we can all learn from. I do not feel ashamed or guilty about my attitude towards babies in the past – I can’t go back and undo it, can I? I remember those ex-friends of mine kept telling me, that when I got my own babies, I’d see what they were going through and I would like babies too. Dang it, they were right – to some extent.

Our “babies” are now 21 and 24. Time has gone so fast; if you are a parent or plan to become one, make sure you enjoy the ride – I did, diapers and all...

See you next Monday

Monday, November 7, 2011

WEIRD STUFF WE SAY OR SHOULD SAY

A large truck just hit this unfortunate man. He is lying in the street, blood everywhere; a select group of bones poking through the skin. We are shocked, stunned and horrified, but as good humanitarians we throw up, jump into action and run over to help him. He is writhing in gruesome pain and agony. So what is the first thing we ask people in those situations? It’s “Are you okay?” You know how stupid that sounds as he is obviously not “okay” to any extent of that word. So why do we ask such a dumb question? Instead, what about: “Wow, does that hurt?” or “we have to stop meeting like this” or my all-time favorite: “Are you an organ donor?” We do the “are you okay?” thing whenever somebody is obviously not okay - very weird.

When we eat a meal between breakfast and lunch, we call it brunch; I can swing with that. But when we eat a meal between lunch and dinner, shouldn’t we call it lunner? Or is that term just too ugly?

On TV they announce that the program was recorded in front of a “live” audience. Please tell me again, what’s the alternative? “Live operators are standing by”. Would dead operators be cheaper and I really don’t think they are “standing” by, more like sitting (though the dead ones might be lying down).

I found out that RIP means Rest In Peace – All these years I thought it meant Remain In Place. This assumption supported by the fact that huge stones are situated on top of the graves to make it near impossible to escape…

Next time somebody ask if you know what time it is, respond by saying: “No I don’t - I’m not from around here.” Make sure to observe their facial expressions – simply priceless.

I’m sure there will be more of these observations later on this blog; you are hereby warned.

MESSAGE FROM THE BLOGHEAD
This is my weekly blog-post number 26, which means the halfway mark of a year (duh). I started the blog for selfish reasons, as an act of disciplining myself with respect to writing, including construction, organizing, grammar and bla bla bla. As an “audience” (live?) I was aiming at the few friends of mine and a bit of family and friends in Denmark and Sweden. I only expected very few page-views, if any at all. This weekly blog has registered more than 1,300 readers in over 20-some countries; and I know very few people, really, so to me, this is amazing.

I’m taking this moment to thank all of you for reading. I am in utter awe concerning the response the blog is receiving and it makes me humble and it demands of me to keep writing and improve as much as possible, whenever possible.

I have no clue as to why this has happened, but though I am not a bragging dude, it must be because of what I touch concerning LIFE AS IT REALLY IS and the light observations of stuff around us. If you ever find that you would like a certain subject handled, just let me know.

Most of you have signed up to be notified when new posts are published. Those of you who have not signed up yet, please do so – really. If you ever want to get off the list, all you have to do is let me know and off you go. To sign up, just send me an E-Mail with your name (steiness@sbcglobal.net) E-Mail addresses I receive will not be solicited or sold or any of that stuff (only if it’s worth something, of course – (only kidding)). You can also sign up in the column to the right under FOLLOW BY E-MAIL.

Again thanks so much for your interest and time. It is very much appreciated.

Sincerely,
Peter B. Steiness

PS. Future posts will be around 700 words (from 850-900 words)