LOAD UP AND STOW

In his Tucson Daily Star Column (April 16, 2023) Tim Steller writes that the “Storage Business is Hot!” He then describes the storage unit that his parents had rented when moving out of their house, and tells of a large hunk of tree root that had been stashed away because his Dad thought at some time he could use it.

The Public Storage Rental Industry has experienced a huge boon in recent years. The latest estimate for the business is $2.915 Billion—a 2.1% increase from 2019. A good slogan for a storage facility might be: “We Love Your Stuff More Than You Do! ” A bad slogan might be:
“Stop Buying So Much Stuff!”

A  few nights ago, I had dinner with a couple who bemoaned the fact that after their move to a smaller home, they now had belongings, that they had collected from their extensive travels, stored in three different storage facilities. Recently, they had gone to visit one of the storage lockers in order to examine several boxes filled with valuable hand-woven blankets— only to discover that their precious stored items had served as a fifteen year MOTH! Smorgasbord. The blankets and the money paid for their storage all landed in a dumpster.

My Father stored papers in the basement of our home until it was time to move on.  He discovered several boxes of mold. No wonder that our basement had that pungent smell for all those years. When my parents moved to a Senior Residence, they rented a Storage Unit where Dad kept lots and lots of newspapers, that contained articles about him or other stories of interest. “Someday,” he planned to cut them out to preserve in a scrapbook. That day never came. In one swoop those papers landed in the Recycle Bin.

Moving on, means moving forward, and letting go of the, “I don’t need it, but I want it” attitude. Is it really worth paying $300.00 a month for the wood saw embossed with, “I Love Minnesota,” or the collection of prom dresses from 1950, or the sterling silver tray that none of your kids want—now or never—no matter how many times you ask them.

My motto is, “If you can’t use it—lose it!” Either donate or sell those items before you die, because chances are they will be dumped. Be smart.  Save the money you’d use  on years of  storage. Sell what you can, and take a world cruise with the money saved.

When I moved to my apartment from a big house, I left my over-sized furniture with the new owners, because they loved the 25-year-old tables and leather sofas and chairs. I then gave my son and daughter-in-law whatever they wanted (almost)—remembering what my Mother always said, “ It’s better to give with a warm hand than a cold one.”

I kept the furniture that fit into my new life style as well as a few things that had sentimental value for me.  I also purchased a few new pieces of furniture. New can be fun!  Now, it is a delight to visit my son and daughter-in-law, and and see how much they cherish and enjoy the items from my home and life.  

I also find pleasure by knowing that my donated items will go to families who could otherwise not afford to purchase them. That’s a win-win all the way around, and for me it’s also nourishment for the soul.

Esther Blumenfeld

SO WHAT'S NEW?

I don’t understand people who never read newspapers. One of my greatest pleasures is rising early in the morning, grabbing a cup of coffee and perusing my daily paper. I start with the weather and the comics, browse sports, read the editorials in depth, and then I study both national and local news.

Some people tell me that newspapers are passé, and that they get their news off of their computers. I do that too, but AOL news is very different from what I get from my morning paper. I must admit that some of the story headers are enticing, but here are some actual headlines I copied off of my computer. Here’s all the news not fit to print:

    “Liven up your potato salad.”
    “Toupee rumors false.”

I didn’t read those stories, but I hope that the chef’s toupee didn’t fall into the potato salad.

    “Age women shouldn’t wear bikinis.”

With some women that age is never!

    “Lady Gaga wears penis shoes.”
    “Attractive use for using old cans.”

Perhaps, the story could have been combined, if she had strapped on a couple of tins of “heavenly original” Chock Full O’Nuts.”  

Then AOL gave us some investigative journalism:

    “How does your mop stack up?”
    “5 cupcake mistakes you are making.”
    “Depressing news about beer.”
    “5 signs your husband may be a psychopath.”

Obviously, some husbands already depressed about their beer become more psychopathic with each cupcake blunder. Some other stories seem to be related to one another:

    “Best diet if you’re short on time.”
    “Pillows look good enough to eat.”
    “Reason fruit is exploding in China.”

Makes sense to me. If you are in a rush in the morning, just take a bite out of your pillow, eat a piece of exploding fruit and you are on your way to losing that excess weight starting with your head.

I almost read the story, “Starbucks sued over dwarf firing,” because I didn’t know that Starbucks kept cannons on their patios. Then I saw:

    “Dad faints during birth.” He was probably only expecting the removal of a gallstone.

I turned off my computer when I finally read:

    “Rapture rumors prove false.”

Oh, heck, I have to empty the dishwasher after all.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Runner forgets one crucial step.” Lace up your shoes, Dummy!)

NOPE

What part of “NO” don’t you understand?

Every language has a word for “No.”  In English those two little letters can deliver a powerful punch. For instance, often politicians with jellyfish brains deliver a version of “No,” that affords them a feeling of empowerment.  However, often they are surprised when their “NOs” are countered with  community voices that shout..” NO! Not Ever!” Those “NOs” can come from around the world such as “Non,” “Net,” “Nie,” “Nein” or the Ukrainian “Ni!”

So when did you last use the powerful “NO” in your life?  Sometimes it’s a hard word to spit out, but once you do it, you will get better at it. “NO” gets easier if you remember that if you don’t say it, you just might have to say, “YES.”

Many years ago, just after I had become engaged to be married, I returned to the University and received a call from a young man who asked me out on a date.  I replied, “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to go out with you because I am engaged.” He replied, “That’s no problem. How about next week?” Whereupon I replied, “I can’t because I am engaged permanently.”  To this day, I don’t know if he ever got it, but I hope his ego didn’t get a permanent hit.

Rejection is a fact of life for professional writers.  I learned not to take it personally, and I also learned that sometimes “NO” really has nothing to do with you. For instance, when I submitted an article to FAMILY CIRCLE MAGAZINE, it was rejected. However, the two editors who had read my story had inadvertently left their messages to each other in the rejection letter. This is what they said: “Myrna, this article is hilarious, I think it is a one pager, and we can get it for $500.00.  What do you think?”  Myrna replied, “Yes, it is extremely funny, but do we need humor?”

Saying, “NO” can be really difficult because you don’t want upset another person, but keep in mind that your time is valuable. When you say “NO” you are giving yourself permission to spend your time the way you either need or want to.

If you are still hesitant to say “NO” when speaking English, you can always get around it by smiling, lifting a draught of Guinness Stout and toasting the other person with a  hearty Irish “Nil.” If that doesn’t work try the Spanish—“NO way Jose!”

Esther Blumenfeld

AND WHOSE LITTLE ASSUPTION ARE YOU?

And Whose Little Assumption Are You?

I recently received a postcard with the photo of a baby girl wrapped in a bath towel. The parents had written, “Can’t wait for you to meet our little Daphne.
Love, Minnie and Buck.” They had made the assumption that, even though I didn’t know them, I’d send a gift to little Daphne, and that I wouldn’t notice the misspelling of my name. I finally figured out that Minnie and Buck are the progeny of people I haven’t seen in 40 years.

Wethern’s Law states that, “Assumption is the mother of all screw-ups.” I am convinced that not being a mind reader causes most arguments in relationships.
“You should have known,” makes the assumption that your partner knows what you are thinking, so there’s no reason to clue him in.

Another common assumption is that when someone is silent, he may not be saying anything because he’s thinking. Few people consider that he may just be stupid. And what about the “dumb blonde” rap? The blonde bombshell, Jane Mansfield had a genius IQ level of 163, spoke 5 languages and was a classically trained pianist and violinist.

We all make assumptions such as; (a) People will be on time for appointments. (b) The refrigerator will be cold when we open the door. (c) The medicine the doctor prescribes will cure us immediately.

My friend, Judy went to the drugstore to pick up a prescription. She said, “I am picking up a prescription for Judy Cook.” The pharmacist said, “There is no such prescription on record.” She replied, “Well, maybe it was made under my husband’s name, Don Cook.” “No such prescription,” said the pharmacist. “I don’t understand,” said Judy. “The veterinarian said she’d call in a prescription for my dog, Xerxes.” “Oh,” replied the pharmacist. “I have a prescription for Xerxes Cook.” I assume that Judy had to pay for the prescription, but then again, maybe Xerxes does have a charge card.

One of the worst assumptions is if a person supposes that documented facts can change another person’s opinion.  After all, we are all experts on our own opinions. Validity is based on fact. Faith validity is based on “I believe this is true, so consequently it is.” I recommend that it is useless to muddle up already befuddled thinking with facts.

Years ago, when my family took a car trip through the South, we ate at a small restaurant in Alabama. As we were leaving, the waitress said, “Y’all come back now. You hear!” Mom turned around and went back. She assumed the waitress had meant for her to “Come back.” “So what do you want?” said Mother. “Nothing,” replied the waitress. “So why did you ask me to come back?” said Mother. “I didn’t.” said the waitress. “Yes, you did,” said my Mother. “Well, Honey, I didn’t mean right now,” said the waitress. “So, why did you want me to come back?” said Mother. “I didn’t,” said the waitress, and she left in a huff.

As with most assumptions, I don’t think my Mother ever understood what that encounter was all about. She did have eyes in back of her head, but she wasn’t a mind reader.

Esther Blumenfeld (I assume my flight will be on time---or not.)

IN TENTS DISLIKE

Recently, a friend called to ask if I’d like to go to summer camp with her. I responded, “Maybe,” but I really meant, “Hell, No!”

When I was a kid, my friends attended all kinds of exciting specialty camps that offered horseback riding, classical music, ballet, drama, or science and technology. These places had beautiful names such as: Mountain Meadow, Eagle Hill and Chestnut Lake, and they cost a bundle. My parents didn’t have a bundle, so I was exiled to Camp Stagnant Water in South Dakota.

My cabin roof leaked, but only when it rained. It rained the entire week. I had chosen the bottom bunk, so I stayed relatively dry, but my bunkmate kept flicking spiders off her bed and they landed on me. Every night I watched her sagging mattress as it swayed and dipped closer to my face. She must have suffered from motion sickness because she threw up into my shoes twice. Obviously, her digestion wasn’t as good as her aim.

Counselor Bruin Hilda called the parents of one of the other girls in the cabin to come and get her because she put a pillow over the face of her snoring bunkmate. The snorer didn’t make it through the week either because she had chosen constipation over the snake rimmed outhouse, and had picked a bouquet of poison ivy.

I only swam once in the river at Camp Stagnant Water, because when I got to shore, I was covered with hanging leeches. It was an educational experience. Counselor Bruin Hilda was waiting for me with lit matches. She kept yelling, “Stand still!” That was not easy to do with bloodsuckers clinging to my body and Bruin Hilda lighting them like firecrackers.

Camp is obviously not my favorite activity. However, as a teenager, my son was an avid camper. He backpacked for 50 miles in the desert, slept in tents, slogged through mud and muck, and his postcards confirmed that he loved every minute of it:

“Dear Mom and Dad,” Great trip! We put out the fire on the bus. Love, Son.”

“Dear Mom and Dad, It’s real hot here. We haven’t had any rain for two weeks. The dust is pretty bad. I spend most of my time in the water or mud. I got a sunburn. It doesn’t hurt that much anymore. Camp is really fun. Love, Son.”

“Dear Mom and Dad, I’m learning about reptiles. Wait until you see my collection. We are having pizza for dinner. Today I saved a camper’s life. Thanks for the cookies. Love, Son.”

Esther Blumenfeld (survivalist.)