Next Stop: The Curb

Can I interest anyone in a mirror?  Completely, one hundred percent FREE:

Stats:  27" wide
          31-1/4" high
          1-3/4" deep
          18 pounds (hangs on a sturdy picture hook)

Finish:  Gold, distressed

If you're interested, let me know.

The Curmudgeonette Learns Something About Grace

A few nights ago,  I came across a documentary on PBS, "Capturing Grace," about a group of Parkinson's Disease patients who learn to dance through a partnership between the Mark Morris Dance Group and the Brooklyn Parkinsons Group.

It's so moving watching the students--all older, all suffering Parkinson's symptoms--become dancers, transcending the limits of their bodies.  They seem to take flight.

The director, Dave Iverson, a reporter for NPR, was diagnosed with Parkinson's eight years ago.

"This is a film about rediscovery, the rediscovery of a lighter step and the sweetness of motion.  And it's a story about a remarkable community of dancers--some professional, some not--but all coming together to move in space...and in doing so, rediscovering grace.  And it is in that rediscovery that each becomes whole," he says.

You can watch the trailer here.

* * * * *

Watching this documentary, I was reminded of a quote that my friend and next door neighbor, Laura, posted on Facebook a few days earlier, from the poet David Whyte.

"The only choice we have as we mature is how we inhabit our vulnerability, how we become larger and more courageous and more compassionate through our intimacy with disappearance, our choice is to inhabit vulnerability as generous citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or conversely, as misers and complainers, reluctant, and fearful, always at the gates of existence, but never bravely and completely attempting to enter, never wanting to risk ourselves, never walking fully through the door."  [my italics]

To be re-read whenever I feel aging weighing on me.    And I may buy the DVD of "Capturing Grace."  for the same reason.  

* * * * *

 

Yesterday at the Food Pantry, there was a flurry of clients just before closing time at 4 pm. The very last client in the door was a tall, very thin African American lady in her eighties.  She'd paid a taxi to get her there in a hurry.  I checked her in, and then she darted out to pay the cab driver and came back to shop.

I was taken with her right away.  Her first name was "Sister," and she had a short gray braid that hung below the rim of her hat at the back.  She took a long time pondering what she wanted and ended up with a bulging plastic bag of produce and a small roller bag of other food.  

"How're you getting home?" I asked her.

"I'll try to get a bus," she said.

I offered to drive her.

Off we went to her apartment in downtown Berkeley.  On the way she told me she plays the piano at the North Berkeley Senior Center and that she'd played at the World's Fair on Treasure Island in 1939-1940.  She was gracious beyond measure, quietly intelligent and reflective.

"I like being around your joyousness," she said at one point.

What--the curmudgeonette joyous?

"I had a bad morning," I told her.  "I watched Obama sing "Amazing Grace" on YouTube at that funeral.  Very sad."

"I watched that on CNN," she said.  She sighed.  "Those Republicans go after him."

When we got to her apartment building, I drove around the block so I'd could park right at the door and help her carry her food.  

"You're a doll and a sweetheart, and I thank you a thousand million times," she said when I left her at the elevator.

How did I happen to run into this remarkable lady? 

"Amazing Grace" and the Curmudgeonette

Last night I went to Berkeley Repertory Theater to see "One Man, Two Guvners," which was funny, clever, imaginative, and entertaining--all the things you want on a Friday night when your spouse is off counting butterflies in the Sierra and teaching people how to differentiate moth genitalia.

Except!  The quite tall woman sitting next to me--since when did theater designers take a page from the airlines and make seats way too narrow for comfort?--irritated me every few minutes by spinning the screw top off a Mason jar full of water, taking a swallow,  and then screwing the top back on and leaning forward to put the jar (clink!)  back on the floor.  Plus!  She was wearing a leather jacket which squeaked every time she moved.  Close to two dozen times she did this.

What was she thinking?

Is it my English side (mother and three grandparents) that makes me an elbows-in kind of gal in places like theaters and waiting rooms?  Am I uptight or was this woman oblivious?  Please vote.

* * * * *

I went to Berk Rep with three friends from West Marin, one of whom told me that she was tired of "looking at lemons," the photo with my last post, and when was I going to write another post?

I know what she means because I follow blogs, too, and it annoys me no end when the blogger doesn't have anything new for me to read.  This includes one beleaguered woman who just had her fifth baby and had to move to Florida two weeks later because of her husband's job.  I mean, so what?  Where's the new post?

More important, where are the baby pictures? 

Which brings me to my next point:

1.  I have no grandchildren, therefore no pictures/stories of adorable babies to showcase.
2.  I'm not traveling (most of the time) and coming up with new adventures every day.
3.  I'm a generalist in this life--not a specialist in much of anything but being a curmudgeonette. Is that a draw?

 Found this in a bookcase recently; someone gave it to me for my 40th birthday. 

It's a bit of a dilemma.  

* * * * * 

And now for some good news, as opposed to angst:

1.  Thank God for Justice Kennedy!  What an eloquent opinion he wrote on gay marriage.  On the other hand, as one of my friends put it, "Scalia's head has exploded."  Does he have any more mean-spirited snideness left in him?


2.  SCOTUS and the Affordable Care Act!  Hurray!
 
3.  What a President!  He SINGS!  How eloquent he is, how in-your-face he's becoming.  Go for it, Barack!  Nothing to lose.  We are the beneficiaries of grace that he is our President.

 Have a good weekend, if you read this before Monday.  And thanks for the push, Gayanne.

Some Weeks Life's a Bowl of Lemons

This is a week that--in no particular order--

1.  I somehow wiped the hard drive of my computer, which resulted in a year and a half of personal journal disappearing along with hundreds of photos.  Also, all the programs that have ever been loaded on it.  No processing program.  Can't print.  Computer man is coming today to see what he can do.  Frustration!

2.  Jerry's primary office on the Berkeley campus was flooded by a broken pipe.  Many (old and not all that desirable, thank goodness) books lost.

3.  In the course of dealing with that disaster, the department chair very diplomatically told him it was time for him to move out of that office to make way for new faculty members.   You cannot imagine how much stuff is in there.  Where will it go????

4.  Our trusty electric kettle bit the dust.  Would not work.  I ordered another one on Amazon and that night the old one started working again.  (Why?)

5.  I upgraded to a new cell phone, which takes great photos but won't upload them to my computer.  This is not easily solved.

6.  I learned that a friend, Wes,  from the Berkeley Food Pantry has advanced-stage lung cancer.  Out of the blue and shocking.  I talked to his girlfriend last night for an hour-and-a-half.  His community is rallying.

Yesterday we went to Point Reyes for a few hours and walked on the Estero Trail, which helped damp down my frustration and sadness.  But I'm still haunted by:

1.  The tragic collapse of a balcony at a complex in downtown Berkeley that killed six Irish students.  I remember scoping out this complex in 2007, when my friend Claudia A. was moving out of town and wondering if she and her husband should rent an apartment there as a pied a terre.  I can't bring myself to drive anywhere near it.

2.  The shooting of nine members of an African American congregation in Charleston.  Why is it always a young Caucasian man who perpetrates these atrocities?  Poor Obama and the losing battle for gun control.

Computer man coming any minute...

Library Glasses, Granny Panties, and Fluffing the House

You've seen plenty of "nerd glasses" around, mostly on younger people.  But did you know they're part of a "generational swing?"

I learned this today from the New York Times.  Understated frames are the mark of Baby Boomers.  Younger people are buying outsized plastic glasses, formerly nerd glasses, now "library glasses," which make a statement.  They indicate that a person is "open and guileless and actively inquisitive," among other things.

A model on the runway for Gucci this year.  Inquisitive or bored silly?

The small, unobtrusive glasses that Steve Jobs wore rejected excess; the new glasses "reject that rejection."



I never did think he seemed as "adventuresome as a critter out of Japanese animation,"  possibly due to his glsses, so maybe this theory holds.

Soon I'm going to have cataract surgery and for awhile I'm going to have to wear glasses I bought in the 1990's:

Will I finally look cool?  Sadly, no.  A couple of years ago, someone in an eyeglass shop told me that big 1980's-1990's-style glasses were coming back, but "not for people your age."  Meaning that I'd look like I living in a time warp instead of making a fashion statement.  Or any statement, let alone open and guileless, etc.

* * * * *

The author of the eyeglasses article, Troy Paterson, starts out by saying that eyeglasses are "more intimate than underpants," because they're plain for all to see.

Which brings me to another thing I learned recently:  Thong underwear is out!  Oh, yes! (For years, I've referred to flip-flops as "thongs," which raises eyebrows and  shows how out of it I am.)  I do own one pair of thong underwear, courtesy of my sister, who spotted a Visible Panty Line. 

Some of today's young women have switched to wearing "granny panties," or what my college roommate Debbie called "big whites."  Back then, we were all switching to bikini underwear.

"Within millennial and Generation Y consumer groups, it's considered cool to be wearing full-bottom underwear," says an apparel analyst,  again in the New York Times.

It's also a feminist statement, because scant underwear is designed to appeal to men, and big whites are all about comfort for the wearer.  However, you can still be a feminist and wear skimpier underwear, apparently.  Yours to choose.

* * * * *

Well, fine!  I've just overhauled my undies so that I have a smoother look from behind, which I got a really good, dismal look at in a department store dressing room recently.  This is what I bought, neither Big Whites nor bikinis, just something to shore up what's sagging and/or too visible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These babies are stretchy and comfortable and have rows of
stick-um around each leg to hold it in place.

Weird stick-um but it works

 

 More info  here .

* * * * *

I've been rushing around like a maniac refreshing and refurbishing my house.  For several years, I've been busy planning trips and making quilts and ignoring things in the house that were tired, needed repair, or just plain worn-out. 

I started out by replacing old stuff that works but had just gotten boring:

BEFORE

Yes, it's okay, but I'm tired of it, even if it was bought at a  museum shop in Paris.  See "understated," above.

AFTER

A $5.99 replacement from Target.  Score!

* *

BEFORE

Again, tired.  And no rubber backing, so it slid around.

 

 

AFTER

 Another Target sale item

 **

BEFORE

 I have a pair of these rooster lamps, inherited from my parents. I've lived with the old damaged shades since 1998.

 

EIGHT TO TEN WEEKS FROM NOW

 I ordered new oval shades that are a better fit, but...

 

 ...with made with plain parchment and a black and rust ribbon trim, shown above.

 

Then there's the harder-to-find, expensive stuff, like a new light fixture for the upstairs hall.  I've lived with this monstrosity for 30 years:

Hate it.  Recessed lighting may be the way to go.

Or how about this:

Sun-damaged black-out lining in bedroom curtains. Three windows like this.

Or this:

A dust ruffle that doesn't fit the new box spring.  It was nice when it was new, about 25 years ago.

**

The front doormat is shot, especially after months of workmen coming in and during the bathroom remodel. What I want is an absolutely plain doormat, 24" x 36".  Can't find one.  Or rather, I did find one online at Home Depot, but they're sold out (doesn't this tell them something? Buy more to sell!).

 

I can find lots like this:

I don't want a doormat that looks like quilt.

This one was mildly tempting because it's funny:

But I'm not that antisocial.

Will keep looking.


P.S. Just found a plain one at Ikea for $9.99!

Why Only Gay Couples Should Be Featured in the "Vows" section of the New York Times

Also, older couples.

Can someone help me with this? 

I'm profoundly irritated by the wedding section--"Vows"--of the New York Times.  Every. Single. Sunday.  

I read Philip Galanes's always-enjoyable column, and then  I think, oh, no, the next pages are all about WEDDINGS.  I know what to expect: acres of print devoted to heterosexual college graduates who've tied the knot in event spaces, churches, and gardens. Chatty anecdotes about how they met.

Don't care.  Beyond don't care--I'm exasperated and bored.  Doing the expected thing--is it that hard?  Many of these untried relationships will end in divorce--why pretend any differently? But The Times seems to--the writers play along, recounting it all without a hint of tongue-in-cheek (or are they chortling cynically in the back room?).

The gay couples, on the other hand, have struggled against discrimination, and the older couples know that life can dish up failure but forge ahead anyway in the risky business of getting married.  Reading their stories bucks me up.  Their accomplishments have something to teach us.

Here's a blog post I wrote in June 2012.  Still holds. 



WEDDINGS TO READ ABOUT
June 17, 2012

Today's New York Times has six pages of wedding announcements, June brides and all that.  Most couples are heterosexual and in their 20's or early 30's.  Their faces look unlined and confident.   I think, "yeah, yeah, and good luck to you.  Let's talk in 30 years and see what's happened." 

What interests me--and the only announcements I actually read--are couples who are a) gay and/or  b) in their fifties or beyond,  people who've had some trials and tribulations and are still willing to step off a cliff and hope for the best.  Getting married is easy when you're 25, straight, and doing the expected thing. (Or 27, in my case.)   When you're over 50 and a little worse for the wear, or when presidential candidates are debating your right to marry--that's the story I want to read.

Today's featured couple,  Nancy Coffey and Timothy Nagler, ages 66 and 65 , would seem fall into my sphere of interest, except that she's clearly had lots of cosmetic surgery, so much so that I thought she was 35, and he's lost 50 pounds to please her.  (She said when she met him "he looked like he was pregnant, literally, and he was wearing a pink linen shirt.  He was a sight to behold."  Oh, Nancy!)  So good luck to them, but I hope they can accept the physical realities of being in their sixties.

No, give me come-back weddings; weddings where the bride and groom have imperfect bodies but big, glowing smiles; weddings where the perfectly toned body of the bride isn't draped in Valentino.  And definitely weddings where the Times has to say which bride or which groom in the photo.  Way to go!

Surviving (Passing!) the Written Driver's License Test

Driving is fun, but you gotta pass the written test after 70, not so fun.

Jerry's birthday was last Saturday, the deadline for him to renew his driver's license, and being a champion procrastinator at all things non-entomological, he waited until the last minute to make an appointment at the Department of Motor Vehicles. The only available appointment in the entire Bay Area turned out to be in San Jose on his birthday. It was that or waiting a minimum of three hours in lines at the local DMV. 

Worst of all, he had to take the written driver test because he's over 70.  This had him mildly freaked out. In fact, I don't think I've met anyone who isn't mildly freaked out about taking that test.

So we went to San Jose--I went with him out of pity for someone who had to spend his birthday at the DMV.  He passed the test with no errors, but the whole business was a hassle.  Here are some things he learned along the way, and I'm putting them down here to help other poor souls and myself, because in five years, it's test time for me, too.

1.  Make an appointment online as soon as you get a renewal notice from the DMV.    The appointment slots fill up fast.

2.  Golden nugget of information: It turns out that some DMV offices are open on Saturdays for appointments only.  No lines, no fuss.  It's a dream, whether or not you have to take the written test.   Here's the link:  https://www.dmv.ca.gov/portal/dmv/detail/fo/fo_sat_offices/          

3.  Without an appointment you're toast:  When I renewed my license in April at the DMV, I met a woman who'd spent three hours in line before she even got to the test-taking. 

4. You can read the driver handbook online:  http://apps.dmv.ca.gov/pubs/dl600.pdf    Jerry got a hard copy at the DMV and pored over it, because
you can't depend on 50+ years of driving to know what you need to know: there's a bunch of numbers to memorize (what percent blood alcohol is illegal, how many feet ahead to signal a turn, all that). 

5.  Take the free sample tests at the back of the driver handbook and on the DMV website:  http://www.dmv.ca.gov/portal/dmv/detail/pubs/interactive/tdrive/exam  .  Jerry thought taking these tests was the biggest help; many of the questions on his test were ones he'd seen on practice tests. 

6.  He also practiced on free tests found here:   http://freedmvpracticetests.com/ca-california/drivers-license/ca-drivers-license-practice-test/take


7.  You'll be asked to take a test with 18 questions, three of which you can opt out of (or miss).  As you take the test, a red flag indicates an incorrect answer (nerve-wracking!).  Also, you'll have to take the test on a computer terminal--no more paper tests.

8.  The DMV does not accept credit cards.  You have to pay the $33 in cash or by check.  I don't know if you can use a debit card.

Afterward, have a treat!  We went directly to a bakery and ate pastries with hot coffee. When we looked out the window, we saw all kinds of people not adhering to the minutiae of the Vehicle Code.  Which we went right back to doing.