NICE ISN'T ALWAYS

A few days ago, a dear friend tripped, and fell down, right on her pretty face. It happened in a parking garage on the East Coast. She sat stunned and bleeding as a man drove into the parking place next to her. He got out of his car, took one look at her, slammed the car door shut and walked away.  I guess he had already used up his niceness.

I conscientiously try to do at least one kind thing a day.  Once a day is enough when you are retired. However, being a good person shouldn’t be too difficult, but sometimes it does have its limitations.  For instance, when hiking in the mountains I often see someone taking a photo of a friend or a group of friends. I usually stop and ask, “Would you like to be in the picture?” Usually, people are delighted and hand me their camera or phone.

One morning, I spied a woman taking a photograph of a group of people, and asked her if she’d like to be in the picture. She said, “Oh, Yes. Thank You!” and handed me the camera. I noticed a young man standing at the side of the group and said, “Get into the picture!”  Whereupon he replied, “I don’t know those people.” I said, “That’s Okay. Get in anyway!”—and he did. Good Lord! Being nice can be so hard!

Another time when I was hiking, I climbed to the tip-top of a mountain where I could enjoy the spectacular view. When I got there, I noticed a little Chinese lady practicing Tai Chi. Knowing only one greeting in Chinese (which I can’t spell) I said, “KneeHow.” She was so excited that she stopped exercising  and began to babble to me in Chinese. She then happily followed me all the way back to the parking lot and kept right on chatting.  I kept smiling and nodding my head. I agreed with everything she said, and from the smile on her face, I knew she thought I was an excellent listener.

On my frequent hikes in the mountains, I have dispensed many bandaids for the fallen, but have never had to treat snakebite. I did, however, come across a man sitting on a boulder at the top of a steep hill. He was breathing heavily and his face was white as snow (which I don’t often see in Tucson, Arizona.) I gave him my water bottle and asked if I should call 911. “No!” he said and “Please don’t call my wife!” Fat chance of that since I didn’t know his wife. It turned out that this successful paragon of industry was recovering from a heart attack, and his doctor had ordered him not to go hiking yet. “But,” the man protested to me, “ I have been hiking these mountains since I was a teenager!” I said, “Mister, You aren’t a teenager anymore.”I walked him to his car and scolded him all the way down. I said, “The next time I catch you disobeying you doctor, I’ll call your wife for sure!” Never saw him again.

I won’t tell you about the time my neighbor wanted to show me his girlfriend’s dog. Trying to be nice, I said. “Sure”—even though I didn’t like his girlfriend. I won’t tell you that the mutt ran out of the house and left me with his toothmarks and 6 stitches on my left leg.

However, I will end this tale of goodness with the story of two people I met in the dining room  of an elegant cruise ship. The 80-year-old man was dressed in a designer tuxedo, and his 25-year-old fiancé wore a silver shimmering number. As we were to be seated, she invited me to sit with them. Being a kind person, I could not in good conscience refuse her heartfelt  invitation. Her heartthrob didn’t say much as he quaffed his third martini (stirred not shaken—the drink not the guy) as she regaled me with tales of his private island estate, his racing horses, his airplane and his yacht, and she nearly blinded me with her 5-year-old diamond engagement ring.

He wasn’t much to look at and only grunted once in a while, but I figured she was attracted to him for one reason or another.  My Mother used to say, “Every pot has a cover.” I thought it strange that he ordered mousse ( a fluffy cousin of pudding)   as a main course, but then I discovered  that with all of his wealth, he was not a classy guy—as he put his dentures on the table. Certainly, he could have put them on a plate!

By the way, My friend, the fallen woman, is just fine.  A kind man found her, called 911 and stayed with her until help arrived.

Yes, there are some good people in this world—better than me, but I will keep on trying.

Esther Blumenfeld

AROUND THE BEND

All my life, even as a child, I was just a step behind conformity.  I learned early on that sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason, and sometimes if you worry too much about consequences you’ll never do anything that’s interesting or imaginative. As a poet once told me, “I tried to be normal once—worst two minutes of my entire life.”

I think it started on my third birthday, on the ship, coming to the United States from Germany. I had the run of the ship, and thought it would be a grand adventure to climb into a lifeboat that was hanging over the side.  It was a great deal of fun until a sailor shouted, “Stay, little girl, Stay!” and crawled on his stomach to get me out.  Where did he think I was going to go?

Then, after moving to our home in the United States, I stubbornly refused to learn the English
language. It made no sense at all that people couldn’t talk the way I did. This was a great concern for my Mother, but my Father said, “Don’t worry, Dear. The children on the street will teach her English.” However, everyday when I came in from playing outside, Mother would ask, “Did you learn any English today?” And, everyday I’d answer, “Nein!” However, one day when she asked me, “What did you learn today?” I smiled and said, “Shit!  Booger! Fart”  She shouted to my Father, “Get the dictionary!”

I was fluent in English before going to Kindergarten, and enjoyed all of the activities except resting. Resting was no fun at all! So, I surreptitiously slid my little blanket close to my best friend so we could visit. The problem was not a problem for me. It was my attitude about resting that irritated the teacher.  It was her problem! Consequently, my report card included a postscript, “Esther is a bad rester!” Resting is still not my favorite activity.

Getting older, I still have choices, and I still believe that you don’t have to do what everyone else is doing, but I also try to remember that I can’t control everything, because if I try I won’t enjoy anything.  For instance, if I ever need “service repair” on my television, computer or telephone, I know that half of the people who live in the Philippines will try to fix my problem—maybe not the first time— but then no one is perfect. Getting over-heated won’t fix anything, so it’s important to remember that real people are not perfect, and perfect people are certainly not real! And, if nothing else, how many times have you had the opportunity to have a nice chat with someone in the Philippines?

My favorite cartoonist is Stephen Pastis.  His comic strip, PEARLS BEFORE SWINE is, “caustic commentary on humanity’s quest for the unattainable.” Well, no matter what— I still try. So many times in life I’ve taken the seemingly impossible road. Sometimes I’ve been successful, and other times not so much.

One of my better days was the day I purchased a new toaster at Bed Bath and Beyond. I got it home, put a piece of bread into it, but the pop-up button would neither pop up or stay down. So, I immediately drove back to the store with the errant toaster.  I also took with me—four slices of bread. I said to the clerk, “The button won’t pop up or stay down,” and put two slices of bread into the toaster. She tried it, and sure enough there was no popping going on.  Then she called the supervisor, who also tried to unsuccessfully toast the bread.  By now, other people began to enter the store.  He brought a new toaster to the desk.  I said, “Please unpack the box, and let’s try the new toaster.”  He dropped the toast into the toaster, and the three of us watched the bread begin to toast—-as did several customers who also seemed interested in the activity. The toast did pop up (to no applause) and as the crowd drifted away. I said to the clerk, “Would you like to have the toast?”  She said, “Sure!”  Then I said, “Would you like to have the rest of the bread?” She said, “Sure!” Her vocabulary was limited, but she did seem to  like toast. No one is perfect!

Lesson learned:  “If at first you do succeed, try not to look surprised.”

Esther  Blumenfeld

MAD AS HELL

Yesterday, I had an experience that is all too common as well as all too aggravating. It began with a notice on my e-mail that my monthly premium for my Cigna Dental Insurance had not been paid, but “if that is in error, ignore the e-mail.” My monthly premiums are automatically taken out of my checking account. So, I called the insurance company to see if there was a problem. Anyway, I tried to call the insurance company.  

After dialing the number, I was unceremoniously put on hold with a barrage of elevator music. I set my phone to “Speaker” and began to read the newspaper. Sports and the Comics didn’t take too long. I advanced to the Front Page. After finishing the Front Page section, the music on the speaker phone paused. My hopes arose. The music began again. So, I progressed to the National News. Twenty minutes had passed. As I picked up the Local News section, a loud voice on my phone said, “Dear Customer, this survey will only take a few minutes of your time. Please rate your answers from ONE to TEN. TEN being the highest.” That was all I needed to hear.

Then it began: “How satisfied are you with your experience?”  Answer:  “ONE!”
“Was your experience satisfactory?” “ONE!”
“Was the agent helpful?” “ONE!”  

As  the questions continued the answers were ‘ONE—ONE—ONE.”
Finally, “Would you recommend this company to your friends?”  Answer, “What do you think?”

“Tell us why:” “Because I had a simple question and no one picked up the frigging phone before hitting me with this lame brained survey.” I hung up!   Later, after cooling off, I called the number again, and heard a message. “If you received an e-mail that your bill has not been paid, it was sent in error. Please disregard.” (and stop grinding your teeth).  I made up that part.

It is very hard sometimes not to get angry.  I will spare you the four hours I spent with 5 different departments, 4 disconnections and 5 different “service people” on the phone with AOL—with  no real problem resolution.  I also answered their survey with improved profanity.
Even though I get frustrated and sometimes angry, I rarely lose my temper. That takes a lot of control.

When I was three-years-old my family escaped the Nazis and we made our home in Springfield, Missouri. Four years later, we moved to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  I liked my new school and my new friends, and was a very happy little girl.  Every afternoon after school, I’d walk home by myself—even on snowy days. Now that I was 8-years-old, I was pretty independent.

One afternoon, I heard a sound behind me.I turned around and saw a big boy from my school. I didn’t know him, but I figured he was a new kid who lived at the Army/Air Force Base. He caught up with me and I looked up at him and said,, “Hi!” He stared down at me and said, “I know who you are. You are a dirty German!”

 I looked up at him, balled my fist and shouted, “I am an American Girl!” I closed my eyes, flung up my fist and ,since I was much shorter than he, I hit a Bulls Eye right on his nose.  I had never seen so much blood in my whole life!  I ran home crying and as I entered the house shouted, “I think I killed someone.” After my Father calmed me down, I told him the whole sad story. He was shocked and said, “Esther, you were in a fist fight?” “No,” I replied. It was no fight. He cried, bled and ran away.” Then my Father calmed me down and said, “Don’t worry the nose bleeds a lot when hit.” I doubt you killed him since he ran away, but perhaps you should apologize for making him bleed. Think about it.”
I kind of thought about apologizing but didn’t, because I never saw that boy again.  However, I never— ever— hit anyone again. But, I must admit, when I get mad as Hell, I occasionally  do hit my head against a virtual wall.

Esther Blumenfeld
 

THINGS TO LEARN

An article in the September PARADE MAGAZINE was titled, “5 Things I Didn’t Learn Until I Was 50.” The author, Paula Spencer Scott mentioned that by 50 most of us know how to “do laundry and scramble eggs.”  Not necessarily!

After being married for several years, one day I asked my PhD, research professor husband, Warren to put a load of laundry into the washing machine. He carried the clothes out of the room and came back carrying the same load. Then he asked,”Which one’s the washing machine? So much for that assumption!

Scott then wrote that it’s important to learn how to breathe. I always knew that as long as you are breathing it’s a good start for the day. Of course since we all breathe oxygen we have much in common.Yes,  I know that she meant deep breathing—inhaling air down to the belly through the nose. Unfortunately, she didn’t mention exhaling which I think prevents explosions. “Breathe in. Breathe out.” If you forget that, you can skip the meditation part. Even a bottle of wine has to breathe.

Her next advice was to, “Learn how to sit” which involves sitting down and  then getting back up without wobbling. Some people’s idea of exercise is a good, long sit. If you’re going to do that—Do it right! That means using thighs, butt and abdomen to power stability without waving your arms around.  Perhaps, she should have added that sitting and standing up is much easier without drinking more than one martini.

Then she tackled the problem of standing while not looking like a “crooked stick.” She advised putting 60% of your weight on your heels— with the next 40% using the toes—so you won’t fall over backward. Once you have mastered how to stand properly you are ready for a long walk to the refrigerator which is more fun than walking over a bed of hot coals.  

Assuming that you are no longer wobbling, proper walking has its own challenges such as “chest out,” and “shoulders down and back.” Then you should be stepping “heel to toe, heel to toe.” If you a walking “toe to heel, toe to heel” you are not walking—you are dancing—and not very well at that! Swinging your arms is important—“opposite arm to opposite leg. If you use the left arm out with the left leg and the right arm out with the right leg, you might be mistaken for a Zombie.

The last bit of advice that the author gave was an instruction on, “How to Smile.” Obviously, a grimace is not acceptable. I think that if you haven’t learned how to smile until you reach 50, that you have a very bad attitude—or very bad teeth.  Granted, smiling is good for you, but smiling at nothing seems a bit spooky, because what do you say when someone asks, “What are YOU, smiling at?”

 If you walk around with a silly smile on your face, out of context, you just may be asking for a punch in the nose  which just might affect your breathing, standing and walking.  However, if you have good posture you just might land on your seat.  Therefore, I recommend that you might want to wait before moving those mouth muscles into an upward curve until you have something to smile about such as, “I Was Smart Before I Turned 50!”

Esther Blumenfeld

REYKJAVIK--AIRPORT--HOME

We had a good nights sleep. The suitcases were on the van, and we could now relax and learn more about beautiful Reykjavik. The first thing we noticed is that there is no pollution. Iceland has the cleanest and safest water in the world. Their energy source is geothermal, so homes are heated by electricity, and the air is fresh and clean—unless there is a volcanic irruption. I guess that could mess things up a bit. We drove past a warm, outdoor community geothermal swimming pool, and then crossed the Elidaa River, one of the world’s cleanest rivers filled with salmon. None of the salmon were swimming around plastic bags or bumping into beer cans.

We then drove up to a charming house situated on well tended grounds. Our guide said, “ This is our President’s house. We aren’t allowed on the property, but the fellow sitting in that car, at the front entrance, is the President’s security guard and driver. Many of us know the President.” With a relatively small population in Iceland, I am guessing that perhaps more than a few folks are also related to him. Iceland has a Parliamentary Government, and 1946 Iceland became a member of the United Nations. In 1949 it became a charter member of NATO.

It was now time for a stop at the Saga Museum where we learned about the people who settled in Iceland and legends of the past. We also viewed a program featuring erupting volcanos.  Continuing our van journey we drove past several beautiful churches, The National Hospital, The Government House and the Parliament Building. Then we drove past the campus of the University of Iceland, The National Art Museum and the Opera House.

Lunch Time!  We were dropped off at The Viking World Museum to enjoy a repast of delicious Icelandic meat stew served with crusty homemade bread and homemade butter. Eating at tables situated under the hanging, huge replica of a Viking Ship was definitely a new experience.  I hoped that the ship was well anchored and wouldn’t drop on my head before I finished my lunch. Josh went to the second level and boarded the ship, while Barbara and I viewed the Viking exhibit.

It was now time to be dropped off at the airport and say, “Bless” (Goodbye) to Iceland.
Our flight back to the United States was happily uneventful, and Josh and Barbara accompanied me as I was wheeled through U.S. Customs. The Customs Officer asked Josh, “Did you purchase liquor when you were abroad?” Josh said that he had a bottle in his suitcase (the allowed amount).  Then the Customs Officer looked down at me sitting in the wheelchair and asked me the same question.  “No.” I replied.  “I drank it on the plane.”

I spent one day at Josh and Barbara’s home in Fairfax,VA, and the next day was driven to Dulles Airport to begin my journey back to Tucson, AZ —with a transfer in Dallas, Texas.The first leg of the trip went well.  I tipped my wheelchair driver ahead of time and he blessed me all the way to my gate.  When we landed in Dallas, I ordered another wheelchair.  It was an extremely long distance to my gate, so we had to take a train from my arrival gate to the departure gate. On the train I chatted with my driver who was originally from Ethiopia. There was a young man standing near us. As the train stopped to let passengers off, the young man handed me a $20.00 bill as he exited.  For the first time in my life, I was totally speechless.

When we arrived at the gate, we were informed that the flight to Tucson was delayed, because they only had a 3 flight attendant crew, and were waiting for 2 more to arrive on other flights. They were hoping that 2 would volunteer to go with us, or the plane would be cancelled. One hour later, a passenger took out her violin and began to entertain us. Another hour later, the 2 volunteer flight attendants arrived to be greeted with a standing ovation. Shortly, we ascended and then landed in Tucson. My driver was waiting for me. I was home!

All in all, after a two year Covid delay, I was so happy that we finally had been able to take our long anticipated trip to Iceland. After so much planning, and so many delays, and so much worry, it was a joyful eleven days for me to spend the time with Josh and Barbara. We laughed a lot! We ate a-lot!  We learned a-lot!  And, it was definitely a lot of fun.

Esther Blumenfeld