Still Crazy After All These Years

“And we talked about the old times, and we drank ourselves some beer - still crazy after all these years. Oh, still crazy after all these years.” Paul Simon

I know we can’t go back in time. I don’t really want to. Except I got the chance to do just that this past week…and my recent visit of my past life has been wonderful. I reconnected with friends that I went to kindergarten with. I hung out with my old high school buddies. I re-met some kids I didn’t really know in school but found I have a lot in common and that I really hope to keep that bond. I rediscovered old friends that I have lost touch with, but now hope remain in contact with. And I felt youthful, once again.

These are not crows feet - they are laugh lines. These are not age spots - they are freckles. My hair is not gray - it is really light blonde. Denial? No, not at all. Feeling youthful? Yes, indeedy. Being with friends from my past helped push that youthful feeling to the forefront of my mind. I mean after all, I am a grandma. But for the past few days, I’ve gotten a chance to experience memory lane at it’s finest. And it’s a pretty nice street to be on.

Again, I wouldn’t change anything, even if some of the memories are painful. I choose not to dwell on the “what ifs” since I know that is a total waste of time. I am just truly enjoying the “right now”. So being in the “right now” with people from my way back past has been fun, refreshing and another great memory to add to the collection.

I grew up in Southern California and went to school with hippies, surfers and jocks. We had actors, singers and famous ball players. Oh, and then there were the really smart kids that are somewhere out there inventing the next facebook. I didn’t know it was different than other schools - that we really weren‘t typical…I just thought it was wonderful. We never ate inside, we swam all year long, we hardly ever had to wear coats and we listened to the Beach Boys on our 8 track tapes. We rode our bikes to the beach and didn’t have to go to another spot for Spring Break. Of course we had our sects…all schools do. (Please read the spelling of that word correctly). We had our groups. Our clicks.

So my little mini-reunion from High School was a blast from the past. A party at the beach with some really nice, good, fun people. It was also a get together that didn’t involve clicks. We didn’t differentiate what groups we were in 34 years ago. It really didn’t matter. Once everyone got there and we mingled, we didn’t stop having fun all night. We closed the place down. Not bad for the “older” generation. My kids should be so energetic.

Reality comes back way too soon. But I really hope the memories will continue in all of us. A wonderful Peter Pan moment that left us feeling like we were teens again - laughing, talking, flirting and casting our cares away for a few short hours in time.

Thank you to my old friends that are now new friends - we are still crazy after all these years.

Scary Frozen Moments

They were the words that no parent ever wants to hear: “Your daughter and granddaughter were in a head-on collision and your daughter is being care-flighted to the hospital.”

I know many have heard worse. But these words turned our world upside down. We both were calmly frantic, high on adrenaline and fear, waiting for the outcome. We weren’t even together, since the baby went to one hospital and our daughter to another. We stayed strong - praying and drinking coffee and texting each other…trying to give each other strength.

I have many moments in life that have been frozen in time: Saying “I do” to my soul mate, watching a Blue Whale dive beneath the Pacific, holding my granddaughters when they were minutes old, watching my son marry his soul mate and seeing a double rainbow in the mountains of New Mexico as Elton John‘s “Funeral for a Friend“ blared on the car stereo. But those were the good moments. I’ve been blessed to not have too many frozen in time bad moments. So this was a true test.

The crash was all over the news - television, radio and newspaper. It hit the TV long before I had word from the doctors on the outcome of our daughter. We found out first that our granddaughter was going to be just fine. A true miracle - not to mention the wonderful invention of a safety car seat. After quite a few hours, we finally found out that our daughter was quite banged up and had multiple breaks and injuries - but would be fine eventually. She had God, 25 guardian angels and a seat belt to thank for that…because the car was mince meat.

I certainly prefer that the frozen moments and the “take your breath away” moments are because of wonderful events - not tragic ones. Even though I may think I can control life, when something like this shakes me up I realize that the control is an illusion. I can’t control what happens in life anymore than I can control the rising of the sun. What I can control, and have chosen to do, is how I handle the surprises that life sends our way. Stuff is going to happen - it’s called Life. It’s how I handle the stuff that matters.

Daughter and granddaughter are going to be just fine. Dad and mom got their heart jump-started and their humble prayers answered. Life moves ahead at a speed between extremely slow and lightening fast, and it still includes - and always will - wonderful “frozen in time” moments.

Truckin' - Jerry Garcia Style

It’s the stuff that most people only dream about…being on a journey with no end in sight. Such is the journey that my friend of 35 years is on. Through his path, he has taught me much.
My driveway seems so empty right now. For the past almost month it has been the home to a huge RV. That’s right – just like cousin Eddy from the movie “Christmas Vacation”. We were just another stop on the adventure of a lifetime: traveling the country in an RV. They are exploring all the terrains of the land while learning about all the various American cultures, people and food. It is a dream of many, yet so few have the wherewithal to accomplish such a feat.
The first few nights we sat enthralled listening to him and his wife tell the tales of the road. I felt like a kid around a campfire waiting for the next exciting story to be told. Once we got to know each other again (we haven’t seen each other for well over 20 years) the conversation got livelier. It didn’t take long; I soon discovered some friends don’t lose their connection regardless of space and time. Our talks around the dinner table turned to religion and politics and who we had crushes on in high school. We tried to explain each other’s belief systems, and what our true life passions are. The conversations ran deep – and at times long into the night.
I believe in serendipity. I believe that people come into my life for a reason. In this case, it was for many reasons. I am on the journey of simplifying my life. I struggle daily to downsize and get rid of the clutter – mentally and physically. After meeting someone that makes their home an 18 foot room on wheels, I realized how hard I am making it on myself.
They gave me advice on how to part with so-called treasures I’d never thought I could live without. They taught me that a woman really can live with only 3 pairs of shoes (now, I’m not going that far, just so you know). They taught me that it is the here and now, that living in the moment, is much more important than all the beautiful furniture in the world. They taught me that people are more important than knick-knacks, and that if you really miss your knick-knacks you can always find more. I learned that the person you are speaking to right now may just be a speck on the radar, never to be met again. That moments spent, regardless of how insignificant they may seem, are far richer than any “stuff” one may have sitting around. I learned that it’s not all about the neighborhood, since I found out that one can meet some incredibly nice people while camped in a Sam’s Club parking lot.
Our last few days in Dayton were spent showing them our town; the eclectic bars and restaurants of the Oregon District, the beauty of Riverscape, and most importantly our friends and family. We took them to Oktoberfest at the Dayton Art Institute and they showed me again why I love this town. They soaked in the beauty of the skyline reflected in the river, under dark, fresh, clear skies.
Our last night was spent around a campfire, drinking wine and talking deep talks. We ended up in a drum circle (it’s exactly what it sounds like), and he taught me the nuances of playing my new instrument.
The end came all too soon; even though it was time for all that they moved on. I look forward to the day that they criss-cross the states again, so I can get my fix of learning about life on the road. Living on four wheels is nowhere in my immediate future, but living in the moment and appreciating what I have surely is. Thank you my friend. What a long, strange trip it’s been.

Lakeside Day Dreaming

It’s kind of funny, but when I’m at, near, by, in front of or in a lake, I almost become a different person.
First of all, I become quite lazy. Time seems to stand still. I become a chameleon and adopt the lifestyle of whatever area of the country I’m in. I seem to like the south the best; they have two speeds: slow and slower.
Being on a lake allows me to explore and embrace parts of myself that I normally don’t. It’s such a sense of freedom to wear hardly any clothes and not wear makeup. It’s just so easy to stick my hair up in a hat (this weekend it was my “Life is Good” baseball cap) and throw on sunglasses and flip flops and call it a day.
I have to be careful though, and not let my mind wander too far. Case in point: I thought (very shortly but still thought) that I might want to get a tattoo. When you see someone in fewer clothes, you find out some surprising things. This weekend was tattoo discovery time for me. I was surprised at how many people, of all ages and sizes have them! So I thought – why not me?
I don’t want anything large – and I don’t want it to show in public. And I don’t want to put it somewhere that it could potentially grow. Meaning I don’t want to put a hummingbird on my hip and when I’m 90 look down and wonder why I put a very large eagle on my body. I did figure that a tattoo may be able to hide a few flaws. I could get a very colorful flower, and as I acquire more stretch marks, I can just fill in the lines with bright colors, hence covering them up. Think about what a pretty, webbed design that could be.
But once the beer wore off (yes, this wine drinker will drink a cold one when on the lake) and my senses came back, I did realize that: a) I am not into pain, and b) I don’t want to have to explain to my grandchildren why I have what appears to be a road map of Kentucky on my thigh.
This isn’t the first foray into the tattoo state of mind. My girlfriend and I set out to get matching cute little tattoos and returned with very lovely and removable bracelets. Once again, the voice of reason rescued me.
Mind you I am not against ink. It’s an art and also a club – one that I probably have no business being a member of. I am fine with the occasional hemp tattoo. Just as I’m fine sitting on my friends Harley pretending that I’m a biker chick. Some things are better left as a dream. That’s the thing about floating on a lake. It gives the mind time to wander. (For me that’s not unusual, so I should say it gives my mind time to wander even more than it normally does…).
Today it’s back to work and back to reality. In my mind, I’m floating on my Cleopatra inner tube with the floating cooler right next to me, gazing at the reflection of the trees and the clouds in the clear, green water. Ah, thank goodness for day dreaming – it helps keep this smile on this face. By the way, I decided a butterfly would be a great tattoo…as it grows it can change from a tiny moth to a giant Monarch. Or, I could stop drinking the beer and hope that my body parts will stop stretching too. Hopefully it will back to the lake soon where I have two decisions to make: Bud or Coors Light.

My GPS is a __itch!!!

“Coming up, turn left on Main Street. Be prepared to turn left on Main Street. Turn left on Main Street. Recalculating.”
Such is the one-way “dialogue” I frequently have with my GPS system.
Often, it’s not one-way. Ok, not true. It’s usually not.
“Coming up, turn left on 2nd Street.”
“But I don’t want to turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Be prepared to turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Listen, the address says 3rd Street.”
“Turn left on 2nd Street.”
“Ok, come on. Are you not listening to me? I don’t turn on 2nd, I turn on 3rd. The address is 3rd street!”
By this time in the conversation, I often have an audience. I think what frustrates me most is her “superior” voice. Yes, go figure, a woman that knows directions better than a man. But I am telling you, there are many times that I swear she is wrong. “She” by the way has many names. On this current occasion it was Margaret. Which is the first name of the actress that played the Wicked Witch of the West. It’s a rhyming thing – you figure it out.
Anyway, our arguments can go on for awhile. The sad thing is, darn it if she doesn’t eventually win!
“Turn left at 2nd Street.”
“Dang it, Margaret, I told you the store is on 3rd Street.”
“Recalculating”.
“See. Here’s 3rd Street. All I have to do is turn left here…oh. It’s one way.” She was going to take me around the block. In her snide, all knowing voice, barely hiding the snicker, I hear Margaret say: “Recalculating.”
She won. Again. If only she had a voice like Sean Connery. I’d get lost on purpose just to hear him say “Recalculate” a la James Bond.
Sigh. I’m stuck with Margaret. The all-knowing and smug GPS. May as well call her HAL, after 2011: A Space Odyssey. I can hear it now: “Margaret, please tell me to turn left here.”
“I’m sorry, Karen. I’m afraid I can’t do that. ”
“It’s possible you may not take me the correct way, and I will get lost.”
“If you go my way, you won’t get lost.”
“And if I do get lost?”
“It can only be attributable to human error.”
Sigh. Where is my map?

In My Mind I've Gone to Carolina....

The air is different. The view is lush and green and incredible. Even the bugs are strange and beautiful. I’m in the mountains of North Carolina. James Taylor said it best when he wrote “In my mind, I’m going to Carolina”.
I really love traveling and visiting new places. And so far, there isn’t anywhere that I didn’t enjoy or find something wonderful or beautiful about them. There is something to be said, however, about traveling back to someplace that you really love – someplace that just resonates with your soul.
God really knew what he was doing when he paired me up with my husband. He is the perfect travel buddy. Well, let me back up – he really is the perfect husband. Most of the time. I do have to re-train him every once in awhile, but just like the dogs, he’s good after the refresher course. Traveling with him is really a joy. He’s just so easy going and easy to please. He’s never met a stranger and he’s just about as adventuresome as I am. So when we travel, it’s always the perfect mix of rest and play – sleep and party.
This trip is one of those soul fulfilling trips. We are traveling with another dear friend and staying at the home of two more dear friends. What a blessing – not just to have this beautiful trip and take-your-breath-away view, but loving friends that open their hearts and homes and boats for us.
What would life be if we couldn’t share “just one more bite” meals that knock your socks off – or savor a great cabernet as you watch the sunset behind majestic hills and mountains? What would life be if we couldn’t float in the lake with our noodles, incredible margaritas and some of the best friends ever? How boring it would become if we couldn’t walk together and share our deepest thoughts among the towering pine trees.
I can see how some people would consider a place like this lonely. Small town, no city lights and not a whole lot of people or traffic or big malls. But not me. I am just a humble human being lucky enough to be sharing this space with singing birds, glowing fireflies, and trees that are so old that you know they have many great stories to tell.
Sitting on this porch, writing this column and drinking coffee is just about perfect. My A.D.D. is kicking in a little bit though, because my eyes keep straying to the beautiful views, and my ears keep listening to the joyous songs of the birds. The one thing that is weighing most on my mind is my sense of gratitude. I do appreciate all of this: my friends, the mountains, the lake, the food and my husband. (Not necessarily in that order, dear.) So, it’s time to go – another day of adventure awaits! Thank you, dear friends. Thank you, mother nature. Thank you, Carolina. Thank you, God. Now, time to Jet Ski!

What the Babies and Dogs are really saying....

Everyone always says how much they love dogs and babies. I mean most of the television commercials I even remember have one of both in it. There really is no reason not to like dogs or babies. They are cute, fun, usually happy and – let’s face it – they don’t talk back. Babies and dogs can’t tell us what they are really thinking. They can’t say the word “no”. They communicate by cooing, smiling, or wagging their tail. They normally love everyone. They laugh or jump for joy at our silly antics of baby talk. They think our rendition of “Itsy Bitsy Spider” is the best they’ve ever heard. They think the latest dog treat is the best they’ve ever tasted. They are happy to see us and act like they’ve missed us - even if we’ve only just turned our back for 30 seconds.
But let’s face it. In reality, what we think they are communicating and what they really mean could be two totally different things.
My new granddaughter is being introduced to “real” foods. So when mommy or daddy shoves some tasteless green peas in her mouth, they are happy when she smiles and coos and eats it without going all “Exorcist” on them. But if you really watch her eyes, you know that there is much more going on in that little five-month-old brain of hers.
Daddy: “Come on pumpkin. Sweet peas! Yummy! Look, watch daddy taste them. Ick! Oh man, these really could use some salt. And maybe a steak to go with it. Ok, sweetie, come on, eat the nummy peas. Take one more bite for daddy. That’s right, eat it all.”
Baby: “Ok, seriously dad. You can’t even handle one bite and you expect me to eat the entire thing? Get real. I mean I appreciate mom going through the trouble to make me organic, fresh baby food – but I’d really be happy having some of the pepperoni pizza you’ve got there. And maybe some of that soda. Oh, I know, healthy smealthy. But when I’m a teenager and you wonder why I have weight issues, just think back to when you made me eat an entire bowl of tasteless green peas. Look, I appreciate what you are doing. But help a girl out here – I have needs too.”
Our three dogs definitely have minds of their own as well. Sure, they look cute, sweet and innocent. Just like our granddaughter. But I have no doubt there is a lot more going on in their minds than their adorable, furry expressions show.
Me: “Ok guys, mommy has to go to work now. You be good widdle doggies and I’ll be home soon!”
Dog #1: “Right. And tonight you’ll let me sleep on the bed. Not! Don’t think I don’t remember what you told me. You also promised an extra treat last night. What’s up with that? And can you please not talk baby talk to us – in dog years I’m old enough to be your grandpa. Hey guys, party in mom’s bedroom while she’s at work! Let’s sleep on the bed, drink outta the toilet and play catch with her new shoes. Who’s in?”
For now we are safe, I guess. Their little computer brains may be storing this information, but we can still look at their adorable, innocent faces and read whatever we want into their simple expressions. And according to my dogs and granddaughters, I am the most amazing person in the universe. No wonder I love them so much.