Footprints

It rained very hard last night, so there were big puddles on the path where I walk. Most grown-ups step around small bodies of water, but the temptation was too much for me. So, there I stood in the middle of the puddle, watching my feet sink into the wet sand. A man strolled by and said,” Are you trying to walk on water?” and I replied, “No, I am just leaving temporary footprints on the earth.

The puddle will dry up and my footprints will disappear. However some footprints are not so benign. I swear that there are days when I look into the mirror, after dealing with difficult people or situations, and I feel as if someone has tap danced on my forehead. Sometimes we all feel as if we have been walked on, and on a particularly bad day those shoes have cleats.

 Kids know what to do with a puddle---jump in with both feet and make a big splash. It might be messy, but it’s a whole lot of fun. Maybe we should take a cue from these youngsters when dealing with the vicissitudes of life. Someone once said to me, “Children don’t have problems.” I replied, “Hog Wash!” Isn’t a smashed favorite toy more of a problem than being stuck in a traffic jam? The jam will eventually unplug. The toy is forever lost. Consequently, here are some children’s recommended solutions for a bad day:

    1. Band-Aids: Lots of band-aids can cure almost any boo-boo. It would certainly work if you could apply a box of them to some peoples’ mouths.

    2. Ice cream:  It cools you off and always makes you feel better.

    3. Naps: A nap is an excellent way to deal with crankiness.

    4. Bubble gum: If you blow a bubble and it pops, you will spend the rest of the day getting it out of your hair. That’s where the expression “stick-to-itiveness” comes from.

    5. Hide and Seek: Always make the mean person “It”. You don’t have to seek or ever find him.

    6. Mud Pies: They taste better than Brussels sprouts, but you quickly find out that sometimes what you enjoy can make you sick.

    7. The solution for world peace: It’s simple. Say, “I am sorry.” Kiss and make-up, run through a puddle together, and then try to do better.

 Too bad kids aren’t running the world.

 Esther Blumenfeld (Who made me the grown-up?)

Blockers For The Impulse Challenged

After whacking the immovable cap of an “easy to open” bottle on my garage floor (accompanied by an inordinate amount of colorful language) I was finally able to open the sucker. I know that prying the top off of a bottle of apple juice isn’t worth the aggravation or the rise of blood pressure, and I do wish that I had exercised more self-control.

Little did I realize that I had nothing to worry about, because self-control is now a thing of the past. Technology is the present, and electronics are going to give us all the tools we need to help us behave like grown-ups. Will power will soon be passé, because science is going to take the place of self-control. Wow!

Here then, are some of the devices that will save us from having to police our own impulses: For people who’d rather engage their thumbs than watch traffic on the road, a GPS can be programmed to lock down texting once the car starts.  And, if you have bad breath, your ignition will also lock down when you exhale, and your breath smells like a brewery. In this case, technology not only saves us from ourselves, but also protects clueless drivers on the road, who are busy chatting on their cell phones.

For out-of-control squanderers there is a computer program that can cut off credit card spending. I don’t know if programmers have developed a wallet that bites your hand, but consumers are now able to set up a “spending alert.” Thus, your friendly banker will cut you off when you exceed your spending limit.

For computer addicts, there is an internet blocking program that shuts down web access, and the package also includes a spring, which propels you out of your chair. Sorry, I made that up, but it is not so far fetched. After all, there is a device that watches our workouts and critiques how we did, “Only fifty pushups? You wimped out!”

I am so relieved that I don’t have to control myself anymore. I expect that the next time I want to put a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into my mouth, my refrigerator will drop an iron mask on my head, clamp the sides shut and save me from myself.

Esther Blumenfeld (de-teching)

Nap Time

I recently read an article about a study, where researchers reported that cooling the brain may help insomniacs fall asleep. They found that a specially designed cap, that circulates cold water, slows down activity in the frontal cortex and helps to promote sleep. 

Some of my friends have insomnia. One woman I know dozes while watching television, and every night, she awakens just in time to get ready for bed. I, on the other hand, fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow, and I don’t wake up until the summer sun shines into my window at 5 a.m. Then I wake up hungry and ready to go hiking.

I once bragged, “I sleep like a log because I don’t have a guilty conscience.” Whereupon, a friend wryly replied, “Or no conscience at all.” Getting up at 5 a.m. does have its drawbacks, because at 1p.m. I have been up for 8 hours and need a nap. However, sometimes that doesn’t work out. So consequently I find myself dozing at inopportune times.

A boring lecture or inordinately long sermon puts me to sleep. I learned in college to sleep with my eyes open, but stopped doing it when they handed me my diploma. In the olden days, congregational ushers used to walk up and down the aisles to awaken snoozing congregants with the touch of a feather. Once I fall asleep, they’d have to hit me over the head with the entire chicken.

Oddly, there are times when my body rejects methods of artificial sleep. One shot of Novocain will never numb my tooth. Two shots of Novocain will never numb that tooth. I don’t know where the stuff goes, but when my toes get numb, the dentist knows he can start to drill.

Some people have tricks they use to fall asleep, such as counting backwards. I would NEVER do that, because I’d be afraid that I’d wake up with my gall bladder missing. I usually don’t sleep on airplanes, because I want to be alert when the flight attendants come barreling down the aisle, so they won’t run over my foot. However, on a long flight to China, against my better judgment, I did fall asleep. When the flight attendant shouted, “You want a drink?” I awakened and screamed, “Oh, My God!” and hit my head on the side of her cart.

My dreams must be very dull because I rarely remember them. So “To sleep, perchance to dream” doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. My in-laws had an oxymoronic sleeper sofa with a broken spring. It was like starring in a horror movie, ”Turn over and you are impaled.” That can definitely cause insomnia.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Oh, sleep, it is a gentle thing.” Coleridge)

Piranha Days

Ever had a day when seemingly small aggravations accumulate and voraciously attack and nibble your good humor away? Well, I did.

All I wanted was a piece of toast, but the wrapping broke, and hundreds of tiny breadcrumbs hit the counter---then the floor---and then imbedded themselves into the throw rug in front of the kitchen sink. After washing the counter and floor, I opened the front door to shake out the rug, and an extraordinarily large bee flew into the room. Consequently, I ran around the house swatting at the invader with the throw rug, until I knocked the wind out of the little sucker. I threw the bee back outside, where he belonged, and slammed the door shut behind him. Now, I had to vacuum the bedroom rugs and dust the furniture that was anointed with breadcrumbs.

All I wanted was a piece of toast.

Sometimes the simplest things seem to take on a life of their own. First, my stapler jammed, and then my checkbook wouldn’t balance.  I ran to the bank to get a recent printout. All the numbers matched, and my checkbook still wouldn’t balance. I never have problems balancing my checkbook. I use a calculator. I think the calculator hates me. The mail arrived at 12:01 p.m., and there was a $385 error on my water bill. The water office closed at noon and wouldn’t open again until Monday.

I needed new cartridges for my printer and ran to the store, because they had sent me a discount coupon. The coupon had expired. I was on time to meet a friend for lunch at our favorite restaurant. The restaurant closed without notice the night before.

Happy to escape the madness, I boarded a flight to Providence, Rhode Island, which was booked to fly me from Tucson to San Francisco. United Airlines wanted me to see the West Coast before heading east. I fastened my seat belt and heard an announcement that there would be a delay, because the pilot couldn’t “boot up the computer.” I shouted, “Call a guy in India,” but no one paid attention to me. Two guys boarded and flipped pages in their manuals and figured out how to boot us up. When I arrived in Providence at midnight, I collapsed into a taxi and told the driver to take me to the hotel. He said, “It’s only a block away. Take the limousine.” I said, “I have been flying all day, I am not getting out of your cab. Take me to the hotel.” He said, “I can’t make any money that way.”  I said, “You will make money, and I gave him a $4.00 tip on a $3.00 cab ride.

It was just one of those days.

 Esther Blumenfeld (Once you get out of bed, you have to go the distance)

Life Is An Open Book

Mark Zuckerberg, the founder of Facebook has a mission. He wants to change the world, so it will become a more open place. That doesn’t necessarily mean a better place, it just means more open. Facebook is, of course, a platform for human behavior. That’s exactly why I won’t join. The last platform I used was a high diving board when I was 12 years old, and I scraped my nose on the bottom of the swimming pool.

The world is so open now that no one has any privacy---nor do they seem to want it. Dinosaurs were the last private creatures. That’s why no one knows what happened to them, and they ain’t telling!

Reality shows on television are certainly open places where the exhibitionists among us let it all hang out---sometimes literally. But of course, these shows would not be so successful if their openness didn’t appeal to the voyeurs among us. I guess it’s something like slowing down to gawk at a car wreck at the side of the road. You hope that no one got hurt, but you can’t help being curious about the people who are involved. I am not sure that is the case with those who enjoy NASCAR races.

So it is with Facebook. Kids share their secrets with hundreds of their best friends, and grandmas check to see what their grandchildren are sharing. Granted, Facebook has some educational value. One man has a page where he teaches people how to tie a necktie. He now has 6 million viewers, and he does it fully dressed.

Entertainers, politicians and the rich and famous can no longer hope for privacy, and the most intimate aspects of their lives are fair game. Heaven help the vegetarian celebrity who gets caught on camera pigging out with a ham sandwich. Newscasters will report endlessly on her admittance to the Hog Heaven Rehab Facility and her struggle with hindquarter withdrawal.

All of this openness has led average folks to think they have the license to ask personal questions of anyone, and they think they are entitled to answers. I am blessed to come from a heritage where one often answers a question with another question. So here’s my advice. When someone expects you to tell it all, just stare at him and say, “Why in the world would I want to talk about that with you?”

Esther Blumenfeld (slamming the privacy door shut)