AGE IS MORE THAN A NUMBER

It’s a given, the the only way to live for a  long time is to get old, and at 87, I definitely qualify.
When George Burns was asked, “What would you most appreciate getting for your eighty-seventh birthday?” He said, “A paternity  suit.”  He also said, “You know you’re getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you’re down there.”

If anyone had even asked me about my advice at 87, I would have told them: 1. Learn one new thing a day. 2. If you do something nice for someone, do it early in the morning, because then you won’t have to be nice the rest of the day, and 3. When someone says, “Why don’t you look 87?” I pick up a strand of my hair and say, “It’s the Genie in the bottle.”

I am very fortunate to be in good health, but firmly believe that exercise has kept me relatively spry.  Every morning, I get my hiking stick and walk outside for about 45 minutes. Also, once a week I twist my body about in a Chair Yoga Class, and am proud that I haven’t fallen out of the chair yet.  I also take classes in Stretch and Strength.  Still not sure which is which, but I keep the body parts moving with as little moaning and groaning as possible.

A few days ago, I was late for a class, so forgetting my age, I thought, “Why not take a little jog down the hall carpet to class? Sounds like fun!”Consequently, it took no time at all for me to go down like a goalie skidding for a hockey puck, and I ended up with a mildly skinned knee that developed into a small scab. Chagrinned, I swore that I’d never try running again.  However, it did bring back sweet memories of childhood, when, as a little girl, I always sported skinned knees after playing outside, as did most little girls who wore dresses on the swings, teeter-totters and slides. My parents weren’t helicopter hovering parents, but they alway had a large supply of bandaids.

Every life cycle begins with infancy until a baby turns 18 months old.  Then you becomes a toddler. An infant’s job is to eat, sleep, poop into a diaper and trust that someone will take care of your needs—especially if you cry at the top of your lungs. When graduating into toddlerhood from 18 months to 3 years, you eventually gain enough confidence to say, “NO!” And since now you are curious about everything, it’s fun to have people chasing you before you get into too much trouble. Next, come the pre-school years from ages 3 to 5, when you begin to do things on your own, and have a purpose in life such as smearing big sister’s lipstick all over your face, or sticking a scissor into a light socket. Between 5 and12 children become more self aware learning to read and write, unless local government has banned all the books in the school library.

Then come the bumpy adolescent years between 12 and 18, and that is a really BIG in-between. Social connections are important and computers and cell phones rule, so you and your mobile hardware try to  begin to learn who you really are.  However,  if that is your only connection with the real world, you may find out, if you’ve never really adventured out of that bubble, that you don’t know who you really are, and you have let other people define you.  Then, you  may be in trouble.

If you make it to young adulthood between 18 and 40, it’s time to learn from failures—because you will have them—maybe social, professional or even financial. Sometimes young adults experience a quarter-life crisis.  However, if you are smart you will find out that you don’t really learn a lot from the good times, but you really do learn and grow from the bad ones.

According to psychologist Erik Erickson, Middle Adulthood starts at 40 and ends at 65. Time to look forward to Social Security.  This is the stage of crying like a baby again if people look back and are resentful about their life rather than becoming caring members of society.
The last stage is Late Adulthood which applies to anyone over 65. That’s when someone like me can feel a sense of peace and be grateful for everyday and be proud that you played the cards the best you could according to the way they were dealt.  Hopefully, you can end up  with a touch of wisdom.  At this stage being called a “Wise Guy” is not necessarily bad unless you spend the final stage of your  life in prison.

So there you have it in a nutshell…THE EXTENDED LIFE CYCLE ACCORDING TO ESTHER.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Today is the oldest you’ve ever been and the youngest you’ll ever be again” Eleanor Roosevelt)

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)

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD

I recently read that ¼ of Americans have a food aversion at any given time. Of course, those with health problems or allergies need to avoid certain foods such as sugar, salt or peanuts, but why is it that people just don’t like certain foods?

Until I was a guest at a Chinese Dim sum breakfast, I thought I could eat anything, as I helped myself to small portions of steamed any things off of the rolling cart. However, when the “White Cloud Phoenix Chicken Claws” rolled by, I gasped, and not so graciously said, “Oh, My God, it’s chicken feet!” I don’t like toothpicks after my breakfast---let alone as a part of it.

Some fascinating research has been conducted concerning food preferences. The entertainers, Penn and Teller went to a restaurant in Southern California that features not only an extensive water menu, but also a water Sommelier. They filled the $7.00 water bottles with water from the hose behind the restaurant, but people preferred what they thought was the fancy water. Similar experiments have been conducted with wine. Given a choice, wine tasters preferred the wine from what was labeled a  $100.00 bottle of wine--- not realizing the wine had been switched with a cheap brand and the other bottle labeled $6.00 contained the expensive wine.

Food labeling matters. No one wanted to even taste “Smoked Salmon Ice Cream,” but a few people said that the “Frozen Savory Mousse” tasted good.

Also, for me it’s location, location, location! I personally don’t enjoy eating a hamburger at the zoo or a fish taco at an aquarium, but that’s a matter of respect. My father-in-law insisted he didn’t like anything cooked with onions. My mother-in-law told him it was celery, and he loved it.  George H.W. Bush uttered one of the most famous food rejections, “I’m President, so no more broccoli!” I don’t know why he didn't like broccoli, but it is a fact that some people just don’t like green food. My mother disliked the smell of peanut butter, so I never had peanut butter sandwiches.

Food preparation also makes a difference.  On the East Coast, people like their vegetables crisp. In the South, they prefer their veggies almost mushy. Sweet tea is served in Southern restaurants, but when I asked for iced coffee, I was told,” I don’t know how to make that.” A friend traveled to Helen, Georgia and asked for sourdough toast. The waitress said, “Where do you think you are boy, San Francisco? You got a choice of white or brown bread.” In all fairness, when I was in San Francisco, I asked, “What kind of tea do you have?” And the waiter said, “I don’t know. I don’t read Chinese.”

I read that tamales are now a popular substitute to turkey on Thanksgiving. Somehow, I can’t envision a Presidential Tamale Pardon. Oh, well, to each his own.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Food is an important part of a balanced diet.” Fran Liebowitz)

WITH QUILL IN HAND

I like receiving mail. I don’t mean turn-on-your-computer mail. I mean handwritten-stamp-on-an-envelope mail. The other day, I received a lovely card from a woman I have never met, but I am going to keep it, and re-read it, because it gives me pleasure.

In a recent interview for Time Magazine the historian, David McCullough was asked, “We don’t write letters on paper anymore. How will this affect the study of history?” He replied, “The loss of people writing a letter is not just the loss for the record. It’s the loss of the process of working your thoughts out on paper, of having an idea that you would never have had if you weren’t writing. And, that’s a handicap. People I research were writing letters everyday. That was calisthenics for the brain.”

Life long pen pals, John and Abigail Adams exchanged more than 1,100 handwritten letters, and these letters provided a window into history.  Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt were also prolific letter writers. Roosevelt wrote to Churchill, ”It is fun being in the same decade as you.” Love was never sweeter than when Napoleon Bonaparte penned to Josephine, “Sweet incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect on have on my heart.”

However, it’s the funny letters that I hold dear. No texting for Chopin who wrote to his friend, Julien Fontana about how miserable he felt after catching a bad cold:
“Three doctors examined me. The first says I’m going to die. The second claims that I am actually dying, and the third told me that I am already dead.”

Sorry, but an e-mail wouldn’t have had the same impact as Groucho Marx’s penned note, when he wrote to S.J. Perelman, “From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Someday, I intend on reading it.”

I am a keeper of letters. The handwriting of my parents and grandparents is an intimate glimpse into the past. My Father’s handwriting looks like chicken scratches, but I always got the gist of what he wrote. My husband’s misspelled, printed words added to the humorous thoughts that came from a nimble mind. I have a friend who only writes in brown ink—a distinctive and endearing quality.

During my career, I was privileged to receive several letters from famous people. When Lynne Alpern and I co-authored, Mama’s Cooking: Celebrities Remember Mama’s Best Recipe, we requested recipes, photos and gems of advice that celebrities remembered from their mothers. I didn’t receive a recipe, but will always cherish this terse note:
    “Dear Authors, I have no memory of any gems from anybody.
            Most Sincerely, Lillian Hellman.
In her inimitable style, she had told us to, Stuff it you turkeys! You’ve got to love it.

Esther Blumenfeld (“I’m going to sit right down and write myself a letter---“)

WHO ARE YOU?

In the poem, The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot wrote, “There will be time, there will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that we meet.” I read the poem when I was in college, and throughout my life, that particular line stuck with me.

It takes awhile to really get to know people, and even today, when I meet someone, I often wonder if I am meeting the person behind the mask. For 25 years, I observed a business associate who dramatically changed his persona depending upon the situation and with whom he was interacting. To this day, I don’t know if I ever really knew the man behind the faces he presented. I often wonder if somehow, somewhere, he lost his essence along the way.

I recently heard a lecture where the speaker emphasized the importance to, “Be yourself.” That, of course, can get a person into a lot of trouble. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, “Know thyself? If I knew myself, I would run away.”

Children are experts at being themselves. A friend’s granddaughter recently learned the ditty, “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” Being 6 years old, she didn’t know just how long ago that was, so she asked her grandparents, ”Were you guys alive back then?” Dr. Seuss would have approved when he advised, “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

Being myself was never a terrible problem for me, but like everyone else there were times I had to present a different face to deal with difficult situations or difficult people. I’d have to tell myself, “Suck it up, and put on a nice face.” However, I never played the Let’s Pretend game so often that I lost myself in the process.

The famous actor, Gregory Peck was attending a party with his wife, when John Wayne approached them. After exchanging a few words, Wayne ambled away, and Gregory Peck turned to his wife and said, “He really believes he’s John Wayne.”

The Canadian essayist, Andre Berthiaume wrote, “We all wear masks, and the time comes, when we can’t remove them without removing some of our skin.”  

I guess each of us needs to decide how much skin we can afford to lose.

Esther Blumenfeld (“ Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be”) Fanny Brice.