You know your old when…

I think I have a fairly youthful perspective.  I’m a hep cat. I tweet.  I know some of the words to songs on B96, I can follow when my kids talk about the shows they watch on MTV (all the mtvs, didn’t there used to be just one?).  I think I’ve moved with the times while keeping my moral core. I never pictured myself as an old granny in a gingham apron baking delicious cookies in between needle pointing pillows that say “home sweet home”.   Recent occurrences has my mind trying to grasp the idea that perhaps I am older in attitude than I thought…..and it all has to do with women in skimpy clothing.

In the old days, when I was faced with a young woman showing lots of flesh, or who was boobalicious and being drooled over by a bevy of men, I would feel the green monster of envy rise up. I would loudly proclaim what a wreck she was, how she was turning her back on decades and decades of women who hard fought to give her rights so that she could be taken seriously in the world.  I’d nit pick every flaw I could find (OH! Did you see how she has a chip in the nail polish on her pinky finger?? FOR REAL?)  I’d  tear these women down sneering in disgust and challenging any man who was with me to disagree.  Lately, however, I have noticed a shift in my reactions. Let me tell you about a recent event.  I was at the Bulls game.  The cheerleaders, or Luvabulls if you will, flounced out on to the floor doing a pompon routine which included miming some sexual activity (at least I think it was sexual, could have been some form of aerobics) and shaking what the good Lord gave em. I leaned over to the person sitting next to me and shrieked “OHMYGOD!! How adorable are they!! They are so cute!!! They are in proper formation, and everyone is so coordinated!”  To which the woman I shrieked to looked at me in a “what are you nuts? And maybe you should change your glasses prescription” kind of way. I shocked myself but thought, maybe this is a sign that I’m getting older. Then I kept on this path. Last Saturday I met people at a bar known for having 72 beers. 72 BEERS!  The anticipation almost made me speed over the 30 mph, however, a law is a law.  I arrived, parked, walked in with my friends and noticed that the girls were wearing little plaid skirts.  One of the younger women in my group started throwing around “objectification” and I found these words escaping from my lips “oh but they are wearing t-shits that cover their bellies up! They are so adorable, and they are wearing knee socks and sensible shoes. They seem like such sweet girls.”  Not a thought about how dowdy they made me feel as I drank my beer in my 501s and hoodie, not a glance around at the men to make sure they were not leering, not a bitchy nit picky thing. Oh, the jury has weighed in and yes, your attitude is aging.  To some, this may be a point of panic, a depressing realization, a sad reminder of the passage of time, but I think I’ll embrace it and enjoy the fact that I can accept my sisters for who they are and what they feel comfortable in wearing, or not.

Like the Swallows of Capistrano…

… So are the pair of mallard ducks that arrive to my backyard every spring, without fail. This has been the ritual for close to 20 years, since I put in an ornamental pond. There is usually a male and a female, and like clockwork they have always arrived between St. Patrick's Day and the first official day of spring, March 21^st. Many years they have appeared on the official first day of spring. They hang around for about 6 weeks or so, swimming, basking on the side of the pond, waddling around the grounds and we've even found eggs at pond's edge from time-to-time during their yearly sojourn. After about 6 weeks, or so, they take off to an undisclosed destination. They won't come again till the next spring.

Our small pond/water garden at this time of year is really just a stagnant pool of grey water that is not very attractive. Once I connect the pump and filter, which serves to also drive a little water fall, dredge out some of the leaves and accumulated debris that has collected over the winter months, and the water lilies begin to reach their padded little arms upwards toward the increasing daylight, everything begins to transform. The water soon becomes crystal clear, birds, frogs and other wildlife begin to make regular visits, or take up residence all together. I will return the koi fish and comets that have wintered over in my basement tank – they always appear eager to embrace the more natural habitat and get a taste of the (relative) wild.

It seems that this year summer is already upon us with temperatures already breaching 80 degrees – quite unusual, but so was our extremely mild winter for the Chicago and Midwest region. Everything is coming to life! The forsythias, magnolias are in bloom; lilacs are not far behind and all manner of green shoots are breaking through the soil and reaching heavenward.
Easter is just around the corner. A reminder of rebirth, and for those of the Christian faith a promise of new life, and much like the cycle of my pond, it goes from dull stagnancy to abundant life, new clarity, and perfectly balanced beauty all in its proper season…

Mr. Limpet is Truly Incredible!

The Incredible Mr. Limpet (Warner Bros. 1964) was one of the first live action/animation feature length films that really left an indelible impression on me as a youth. The "technology" was nothing new, even back then, but you really only experienced this kind of magic in cartoon shorts or very brief sequences, such as Gene Kelly and Jerry Mouse's classic dance duet in the 1945 film Anchors Aweigh. Bringing live action and animation techniques together in feature length films become more popular during the 60's and 70's. Movies like Disney's Mary Poppins (64), Bedknobs and Broomsticks (71) and Pete's Dragon (77) are some examples.

If you're not familiar with the movie, The Incredible Mr. Limpet, I really urge you to rent it. But keep in mind, this is early 1960s and you can't expect the vibrancy and sharp animation quality that you'll find in today's HD, 3D, Surround experience. Perhaps this is the reason that a remake of this film, also by Warner Bros. studios, starring Zach Galifianakis is currently in the works.

The 1964 version stars Don Knotts as Henry Limpet. Long story short, Limpet is a bespectacled, nerdy bookkeeper whose uncorrected vision is poor enough to keep him from enlisting in the war (WW2). His passion and hobby are fish. He loves the marine world of fish so much that while spending a day at Coney Island in New York, he accidentally falls in the water off the pier and is transformed into a fish himself, "nature correcting her error" he later surmises.

This is where the story turns from live action to animation. Limpet, along with his new found friends, Ladyfish and Crusty, an ill-tempered hermit crab, cruise the Atlantic. Mr. Limpet discover Nazi U-boats wreaking havoc on the Allied convoy fleets and decides to join the war effort by spotting Nazi subs and reporting their location to the U.S. Navy convoy so they can destroy the menace and win the war in the Atlantic. Limpet is later commissioned and paid, sending his government checks to his land-based wife Bessie, who all this time thought she was widowed. In the end, Limpet is promoted and continues to work for the navy training porpoises for future missions.

Not only is this a great movie with a compelling and dramatic storyline, but I find it interesting that this movie has been as strangely prophetic in forecasting the future use of marine mammals as Jules Verne was in his uncanny ability to preconceive such future advancements as the atomic submarine (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) and From the Earth to the Moon, his fictional account of man's travel into space. Today dolphins are commonly used in the detection of underwater mines. But just as the dog's keen sense of smell makes it ideal for detecting land mines, the U.S. Navy has found that the biological sonar of dolphins, called echolocation, makes them uniquely effective at locating sea mines so they can be avoided or removed.

In fact, marine mammals are so important to the Navy today that there is an entire program dedicated to studying, training, and deploying them. It is appropriately called the Navy Marine Mammal Program (NMMP). I remember after watching The Incredible Mr. Limpet, as a kid, wishing too that I could become a fish. But with the prospect of working for the U.S. government at today's paltry wages and streamlined benefit programs…forget it! If I were a fish you can look for me at the spawning grounds…

Consumer Packaged Goods in Serious Need of Overhaul

A question that has baffled me for many years is why so many of the consumer packaged goods that we use today still use the same old-school packaging that my great grandparents were accustomed to in the early 1900's. Much of this packaging, in my opinion, has a lot of room for update and improvement.

With all the CPG market research and shopper insights being conducted today, why is it that we have to settle for many of these antiquated package designs. Am I the only one who thinks this odd? Do people truly believe that functionality is at its optimal with these designs or that this is some retro throwback that should conjure impressions of simpler times? I don't think you can really consider something "retro" unless it is absent from the market for a number of years and later resurrected for nostalgia. But then many times where this is the case, at least you have a choice: the old is often positioned side-by-side with the new and improved counterpart.

My top four products that could use a good makeover:

Salt – I'm talking about the standard 26 oz. cylindrical box with that awful aluminum-hinged spout where after invariably severing the skin under your finger nail on engaging the slide; you must then deal with the awkward opening and closing of same. And heaven forbid that you wrench it too hard thereby tearing it out of its port…it will never be the same again. Pushing it too hard into the box port carries with it even more serious implications, however.

Flour – is the only way to package this have to be a paper bag? There's no graceful means of opening this type of packaging without releasing a fine plume of airborne particulates similar to that of forensic talcum used in dusting for prints. Re-closing such packaging is equally as awkward and messy. When a point is reached where you can roll the bag shut it becomes increasingly difficult to store so it's more often wedged or jammed between items to keep from spilling. I wonder, do people really use counter-top canisters all that much?

Milk – I hate the cardboard spouts that need to be slowly torn open and spread apart. Yes, I know there's an arrow indicating which end it is that is supposed to work, but even given that, it's often a clumsy proposition. At least with milk cartons somebody got wise and developed packaging resembling the traditional carton, but only with a plastic screw-top inserted in the top. Why bother – if you're going to redesign, why not go all the way.

Breakfast Cereal – I'm talking about that waxy plastic bag inside the box. Do you cut it…tear it? And if you do manage to pull it apart at the seam like a bag o'chips, there's about a fifty-fifty chance that this can be accomplished without an explosion of flakes, clusters, nuts and dried fruit all over the kitchen area. And then as you consume the product over time you must roll the bag over itself and jam it back in the box with the renegade flakes that somehow find their way outside the bag and into the box. Oh, I suppose I'm now expected to keep a cereal canister on my counter too, right next to the flour!

Ohhhmmmmmmm

As I age I find that a lot of things my elders told me would happen, has happened...dammit.  Some of these things are to do with the ravages of time (wrinkles, memory not as sharp, making old men noises when you get out of bed in the morning, but luckily my uterus hasn't fallen out in the bathtub (that is a story for another day...)) but some of them are what comes with wisdom  if you pay attention.

One of the positives is the realization that petty little things and even petty big things start to lose their significance.  Material goods are less sought after and even seem a burden at times.  The true pleasures in life can be a laugh with a friend, being the shoulder for a friend in need to cry on, answering a question from your daughter about how to cook frozen vegetables and taking a late night walk around your neighborhood and realize how you luckily ended up just where you needed to be when you needed to be there.  My theory about what happens to us as we age, the changes to our body, minds and outlook is natures way of getting you to realize, before it is too late, the wonder of this beautiful existence and the amazing people within it.  People who have different views, outlooks, backgrounds and passions. Lucky are we who surround ourselves with people and not things.

The Seedy Side of Snack Foods

Who doesn't occasionally like to munch on a salty snack? But if "occasionally" translates to more than 3 or 4 times a week, then I think it wise to find a satisfying snack that is not fried and has some redeeming value or even a "perceived" health benefit.

I believe that roasted pumpkin seeds walk this fine line of satisfying that junk food craving, while at the same time, finding redemption by also possessing a rather impressive nutrient profile. These flat kernels are second only to peanuts in protein content, lower in fat than most nuts and an excellent source of iron. What I also like about pumpkin seeds is the low-maintenance required to eat them. Pumpkin seeds can be eaten, shell-and-all, so there is no cracking, peeling, spitting or ditching of outer husks to be concerned about.

The problem with pumpkin seeds is that it's nearly impossible to find a brand that does 'em just right. Most brands of pumpkin seeds you'll find in the market today are much too salty. Or worse yet, they have almost no salt at all – you'd be better off buying a bag of bird seed. I've sampled some that look appealing in the package, but then turn out to be too pliable with little or no crunch.

About 5 years ago I discovered the perfect seed at Trader Joe's. Trader Joe's pumpkin seeds are done to perfection! Not under or over roasted, lightly salted and you'll get a generous size bag at a relatively low cost. Now the problem with TJ's seed is that it is available for a time and then disappears for many months, even years at a time. I actually went through a spell of nearly 2 years without my TJ's seed fix. This last spell where it became available, I stocked up and even had my friends buying up seed for future reserve during the long famine periods. Whenever I go to a Trader Joe's store I immediately run to the seed aisle with hopeful anticipation, and frequent disappointment.

Why can't anybody else do pumpkin seeds right?

Free Wi-Fi…Really?

I can't understand why it is still so common to see signs on restaurants, coffee shops, hotels and various retail establishments announcing "Free Wi-Fi". Really? This provision has become so common these days that you'd be a fool to actually pay a dime for Wi-Fi service. And you'd be an even bigger fool to expect to collect a fee for providing the service.

I understand there was a time, not so very long ago, when wireless internet connectivity was newer on the technology landscape. The access of internet without an ethernet cable was quite the coveted convenience for those who were traveling with laptops and were frequently working from internet cafes and hotel rooms. Today, it's rare to find a person, regardless of age, who doesn't rely on wireless connectivity for a wide range of potential devices, including: Smartphone, electronic E-readers, iPads, DS gaming systems and other such internet-dependant gadgets.
With everybody and their mothers now providing wireless routers it seems almost criminal these days to exact payment for said service. So why state it at all? If somebody actually had cojones big enough to ask a fee to connect to their wireless service, I think all you'd need to do is take a short walk down the street, or even a door away to find somebody who gives it away.
The term "Free Wi-Fi" has become as pointless as the sign on the corner tavern that reads, "Cold Beer". Oh really…as opposed to all the other watering holes in town that subject me to their room-temperature brew? Did the iceman finally get there and you have a fresh block in the icebox? Or what about the sign on the motel that for years read: "Heated Pool"? I saw this for years after it was standard practice to provide comfortable swimming pool temperatures.
And my all time favorite, and this I actually spotted on a flea-bag motel when I traveled through the deep South this past summer…drum roll please… "Color Television". I wonder if it was cable?