Ah, Labor Day – the unofficial end of summer. The kids are back in school and the white shoes are pushed to the back of the closet. For me, it’s time to clean out my in-box of story ideas that didn’t quite come to fruition, but still, seem tantalizing and amusing – too good to simply discard. Take a look and see if you agree.
Epic Excuses for Not Going to Work
“I have an injured chicken and it looks like I need to take most of the day off.”
(With apologies to our animal-loving friend who raises chickens and sent this to her boss.)
“You’re always no one to me.”
This was written on Facebook by a mother in response to her daughter’s new photo. I presume the “no” was supposed to be followed by a period. Thus, transforming the sentence from a maternal smackdown to the following loving proclamation: “You’re always No. One to me.”
I have nothing humorous to say here. I just cannot remember my bazillion passwords, (no less what I ate for lunch, no less the name of the great book I read last week, no less … well, you get the idea). This could be an “old age” thing, this not-remembering-things thing, but I don’t believe that even young-uns can recall the multitude of passwords with the multitude of requirements for capital letters, numbers and symbols that are required for each site!
I not only forget passwords but despite my best intentions, I also forget to write them down. I bought a cute little book to do that, but, of course, I cannot remember where I put it! (This lapse I admit is an “old age” thing!
Why can’t we just use our birthdays? Or our kids’ birthdays? Or the name of the town we were born in?
It’s not like any hacker worth his/her weight in salt isn’t going to figure out whatever password I pick anyway.
Ah, maybe that’s the secret to my password woes! Maybe I should put a hacker on my payroll. Then, I could call him/her whenever I’m in amnesia password lock-out mode and need help.
New Age Crimes
Example Number 1. “Sitting is the New Smoking”
Too much sitting is bad for us. This I understand. Exercise is good. This I also understand. Yet, this mania for stand-up desks – I’m convinced leads to bad posture and varicose veins! Also, while I admire the sleek design of stand-up desks, they lack drawers. Where do the stand-uppers put all their stuff?
On a related note: I recently came across a great German word sitzfleisch which translated literally mean ‘sitting meat’ or ‘sitting flesh’ – in other words, a term for one’s behind or bottom.
Yes, that’s the literal translation, but the deeper meaning loudly resonates in today’s super-charged, jump-from-one-topic-to-another-on-our-smart- phone world.
To Germans, having sitzfleisch is a good thing. It means having the ability to sit still for long periods of time and be productive; it means having the stamina to work through a difficult situation and see a task through to completion.
So, even if “sitting is the new smoking, we all could use a little sitzfleisch in our lives.
New Age Crime Number 2: Perfume
Increasingly people are scent-sensitive and so, increasingly Taboo is taboo. I get this and I admit I am one of those people whose nostrils and skin go akimbo when heavily-scented ladies (and gents) sit beside me in a theater or movie or worst of all, an airplane.
Still, I miss the days when my mother’s army of beautiful bottles of Chanel, Dior, and Joy was lined up on her vanity table. I miss the days of her scented handkerchiefs. When did we all become scent-sitive?
And the Most Popular Funeral Song is …
Yes, funeral songs are a thing. Who knew?
Interestingly, Frank Sinatra’s version of “My Way,” is the most popular song. Admittedly, it’s a good choice. It beats a song about regrets and “I coulda’s” and “I shoulda’s,” but still, I detest Frank Sinatra. Growing up in Las Vegas, my childhood hero was a casino executive who punched Sinatra in the face for driving a motorcycle through the casino.
Sinatra’s “My Way” is also popular at US funerals, although there are regional favorites. In the south, a popular choice is Vince Gill’s “Go Rest High on That Mountain” and Elvis’ “Peace in the Valley.”
For me, the idea of picking the ideal parting song is daunting. No, it’s overwhelming. After all, it took 32 years of marriage AND a blog post for Handsome Hubby and me to come up with an “our” song.
What if I die before I figure out a funeral song? If that happens, I just want to make this crystal clear: no way do I want Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” played. And in an abundance of caution, I want to make it crystal clear, I do NOT want any songs played by Crystal Gayle!
End of Summer, On to Autumn
Funeral songs, passwords I cannot remembers, taking a stand on standing desks … hum. I think I’ve be-labored these assorted points enough for a Labor Day week blog!
Autumn is on the way. The inbox is cleaned out. Time to gear up for a whole new season of light-hearted laments for women – and men – of a certain age. See you all next Wednesday.