HI! HO! SILVER

It was March, 2006, and after leaving Montevideo City, I went to a ranch in Uruguay to experience—“Gaucho Life.” After helping shear a sheep, I enjoyed a traditional barbecue along with several glasses of wine that just kept coming and coming. I thought my adventure was over until two friends challenged me to go horseback riding. I hadn’t been on a horse since I was a very little girl (and I think that was a pony) but thought, “Maybe it’s like riding a bicycle. It will all come back to me,” but first I had to sign a release; “Horse riding at your own risk.” How hard could it be?

I climbed to the top of a wooden platform, and looked into the wild eyes of a very, very big horse who snorted at me when I mounted him—with the help of two Gauchos—one to hold the horse and one to flip me onto the horse’s back. It was then that I discovered two things: The thick saddle was made of sheep’s wool (probably revenge from the sheep I had just sheared) and the cinch was loose.

Before I could reveal my predicament, the Gaucho stepped back and slapped my horse on his rump.  At that, I shouted, “No Rapido!” Obviously, the cowboy hadn’t heard the “No” part and a whip snapped over my head.  I think he was aiming for the horse and not me, but at that I also realized that the horse didn’t speak English, because, when I shouted “Whoa,” he put his ears back and the race began.  I clung on for dear life as I swayed back and forth mounted on the thick, very loose saddle.  I was afraid I’d slip under the horse and end up looking at his belly. At that I shouted, “Remember what happened to Trigger!”  It didn’t help.

Finally, recognizing my plight the Gaucho rode up beside me, grabbed ahold of the reins, slowed down the horse and led us back to the platform— where I didn’t fall off but dismounted not to gracefully. The horse snorted in Spanish, “She’s got no horse sense.”

As William Shakespeare would have said, “May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? That’s what the Fool said in KING LEAR. It means that a person does not have to be intelligent to understand basic facts such as: Don’t get on a Spanish speaking horse who wears a thick, loose saddle, and when you mount—stay mounted!

W.C Fields said, “Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.”One day, my friend Lynn asked me, “Does a cart come before the horse or the horse before the cart?” Well, putting the cart before the horse is confusing, and it means you are doing things in the wrong order, and things can get out of hand.  Something like, “Your barn door is open.” In other words, zip up your pants before the horses get out.

Sometimes you can tell the age of a woman by how many botox shots she’s had in her forehead. Age in a horse comes straight from the horse’s mouth. You can tell if he is “long in the tooth.” As a horse gets older his teeth get longer. So, at Christmas gift time, you should never “look a gift horse in the mouth,” because you will seem very ungrateful when someone has given you a recycled gift you’ve given her last Christmas.

Some people have “horse sense,” and are smart and practical.  However, I have it “straight from the horse’s mouth,” that as we approach 2022, it’s a good idea to “hold your horses,” slow down, and sit tall in a saddle that fits. Be sure the cinch is tight, and ride as steadily and hopefully as possible into the New Year.

Esther Blumenfeld

UNEXPECTED QUESTIONS

A few weeks ago, I was invited to give a humorous talk about my 50-year career as a journalist, author,  teacher  and playwright, and I tried to cover it in about 40 minutes. After the talk, I was prepared to answer questions about the topic, until someone threw me the unexpected, “ Who’s your favorite author?”

Immediately, I wanted to say, “Who cares?” but all I could think of was Frances Hodgson Burnett who wrote the children’s book, THE SECRET GARDEN. Next time that happens, I will be prepared to answer, “Moses! He had a very good editor.” Sometimes unexpected questions can throw you for a loop.

Living in a Senior Residence I have learned that you should never ask someone, “How are you?” because they just might tell you. When someone asks me that question, I always say, “I am doing just fine.” However, recently when I developed a dry cough, “of unknown origin,” I told someone that after taking cough suppressant I was feeling much better. At that, a man who overheard our conversation bragged, “I had one of those (if it was of “unknown origin” how did he know?) “and my doctor gave me 3 pills, and I was cured in 3 days.”  I looked at him and said, “That’s great, but those 3 pills turned your hair white.”  

My computer asks me all kinds of questions such as; “Wouldn’t you prefer to get this information on your computer rather than by mail?” My answer is always, “NO!” because I love it when people think enough of me to send a letter. Computers are supposed to save paper. Not with me they don’t. I like printed evidence in case I am ever questioned by the FBI.

When someone asks an inappropriate question it has been suggested to say, “Why are you asking?” I don’t like that answer, because it calls for an explanation—then what?
“Mind your own business” is rather rude and not effective, because some people are convinced that your  business IS their business.

The question that annoys me the most is “How much money did you earn from your plays and books?” For some reason, people think that’s an okay question to ask a writer. I used to say, “Enough.” But, now I answer, “A lot!” Then, when someone says, “How much is “A lot?” I can answer,“More than enough.”

If you called your attorney and asked her, “How much did you earn this year?” She would charge you a billable hour for the call, and maybe sue you for invasion of privacy.

Some of my favorite questions and answers are:  

“What are you doing?” “I’m in the middle of writing a story.” “Oh,Good. then I haven’t interrupted anything important.”   AND—-

When the lady upstairs sees an ambulance outside, she will call and say, “Just to let you know, it isn’t us. Who is it?” “Well, good to know it isn’t you, Dear Lady.”

With me you can ask, but you won’t always receive.”

Esther Blumenfeld

NOW WHERE WAS I?

This morning I had a hard boiled egg for breakfast. I did not do that on purpose, but I had broken my rule,”Don’t sit at the computer when you’ve got something cooking.” A pot filled with boiling water and eggs just won’t whistle at you like a tea kettle. When my tea kettle whistles it could bring a whole army unit to attention. Also, hard boiled eggs don’t smell like burnt toast (my mother’s favorite recipe.)

Of course, the saving grace is that I really don’t cook that much anymore. I microwave, and the microwave beeps at me when I don’t remove the contents fast enough.  Perhaps, it would be helpful if all the clocks in my kitchen agreed on the time of day. As much as I have tried to set all of the clocks properly, the stove clock and the microwave clock always choose which minute to drop just as the coffee maker beeps, “It’s time to clean me.” So, when baking I have to remember which clock is timing my cookies.

Recently, an article titled, “Back Into Focus” piqued my interest. The author suggested that there are; “three ways to strengthen one’s attention span,” but then the clothes dryer beeped. My clothes were ready for folding, so I left the “three ways to strengthen my attention” in order to fold my towels. However, folding is really mind numbing so I turned on the TV and watched the news. Towels were folded so I turned off the TV, and I got a telephone call from a friend. While talking to her, I checked the stove to make sure nothing was cooking.

Now, what was I doing before the laundry beeped at me? Oh, Yes, I was trying to find out how to own my attention which was now on a lapsed memory-go-round. Back to the article. The writer claims that when our attention lapses “we are missing 50% of our lives.” However, before panicking and starting to bemoan what you have lost, the book PEAK MIND by neuroscientist Amishi Jha says,”it’s okay for our brains to be pulled away from what the brain attention system is supposed to do.” Whew! However, he suggests that at some point we have to get our focus back. My mother was not a neuroscientist, but I do remember all those times she said, “Esther!  Pay Attention!” Sometimes, I still find that difficult when attending a meeting, because of the invariable circuitous route it usually takes to get to the point.

Dr.Jha suggests that “multi tasking is a myth”, because what you are doing is really “task switching.” So the first of the three tips for improving attention is to “Do one thing at a time.”The second tip is to “Give your brain a break.” I do this when I take a hike in the mountains. The other day, I was hiking and saw a woman I don’t really know, but always greet. She said, “I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Have you been gone?”  I responded, “I was in prison for two years.” She blanched and backed away.  I said, “Covid Prison..Pandemic Prison.”  “OH!” she responded before she started speed walking away. The advice has been to “Give your brain a break.” Nothing was said about what comes out of the mouth.

The last suggestion was “Mindfulness.” By now, you probably have guessed that my mind is pretty full already, but the author means to focus on something like the sensation of walking. I agree that when hiking having your feet touch the ground is really a good thing.  

Okay, so to strengthen my attention span I need to: Focus, Notice when my mind has wandered, Redirect when my mind is off somewhere else, and then Begin Again.  

I guess it’s lucky that I like hard boiled eggs.

Esther Blumenfeld

VELOURS AND CROCHET

“The world of reality has its limits. The world of imagination is boundless.” Rousseau said it, and of course imagination leads to ingenuity, and ingenuity is used to solve problems.

For instance, a caveman stands at the shore staring at the river. His imaginative wife comes out of the cave with a stick. She thrusts it into his hand and says, “Don’t just stand there. Catch dinner,” and Fishing was conceived.

Over the centuries humankind has been most inventive while trying to solve both major and minor mysteries of life. There is a reason that the name of the robotic helicopter operating on Mars (as part of NASA’S 2020 mission) is named Ingenuity. All of us are confronted with enigmas that call for ingenuity.

Last week I had a battle with a stubborn cap on top of a bottle of Olive Oil. It simply refused to come off. I thought, “What the heck! It’s Olive Oil. Olive Oil is oil. It’s slippery. I’ve used it to prevent a door hinge from squeaking.” However, there was a plastic seal over the cap. It had to be removed first. My scissors were too big, and my knife was too dull. Finally I settled on a safety pin and my teeth. That worked, but the cap still wouldn’t turn. I tried to loosen the edges with the knife. Then I hit the edges with the knife, and then I  tried the guaranteed-to-open-anything rubber cloth  Still the cap would not budge. Finally, I held the cap under hot running water in the kitchen sink. The cap popped off and half of the oil escaped down the drain. Some challenges do take more than ingenuity, and sometimes profanity and patience go a long way.

Einstein said, “You cannot solve a problem with the same mind that created it.” Fannie Blumenfeld, my dear mother-in-law advised,”When cooking if you don’t  have an ingredient—improvise.” In 1876, Virgil Gates patented his “Mustache Shield” to keep the mustache out of the way when drinking or eating. Not one woman purchased his invention, and it failed. Recently, someone invented grass flip-flops that gave you the sensation of walking on grass—only the grass is in the flip-flops. More flop than flip with that invention.

In 1968, Dr. Spencer Silver was disappointed when instead of developing a strong quick adhesive for 3M he discovered a weak adhesive that never seemed to dry.  His associate went to church, and became frustrated when his bookmark kept falling out of his hymnal. So, he put the adhesive to the back of a piece of paper and the Post-It-Note was born.

 Also, when you use velcro think of a dog in Switzerland who got lots of burrs in his coat. Taking them off of his pup was frustrating, but when Georges de Mestral  put them under his microscope he discovered tiny hooks covering the burr. Today, velcro can even be found on the Space Shuttle.

Steven Wright asks, “If your car could travel at the speed of light, would the headlights work?”

Right now scientists are tackling the conundrum of “faster than the speed of sound” with super- sonic jets. Years ago these jets were tried, but when flights went over populated areas they were banned, because  sonic BOOMS broke grandma’s china. That put the kibosh on getting to New York from LA in 3 hours.

Now in conjunction with independent companies, NASA is testing flying the X-59 sonic jetliner in 2022. The target for commercial flight is 2035 if the BOOM can be turned into thumps. Depending on the thumps maybe the ban will be lifted. However, I can attest that thumps overhead can be very unpleasant, because for a short time my upstairs neighbor used a vibrating therapy thumping chair.

United Airlines is already lined up for super-sonic jets that can get you from NY to London in 3 1/2 hours.  Hopefully with lots of ingenuity even the seemingly improbable will become possible.

In the meantime, I can’t wait 13 years to open this jar of marmalade. Time for hot water— Doctor— and plenty of it.

Esther Blumenfeld

SALT AND PEPPER LOOK THE SAME

“When you are confused assume you are the only one so you won’t need an explanation.”

Recently I went to the ophthalmologist to get my yearly eye exam. When I checked in I was handed a sheaf of paperwork. As I sat down, the technician called my name.  I grabbed the paperwork and went into the examining room where she tested my vision and dilated my eyes with some super-duper drops. I was then escorted into an inner sanctum to wait my turn to see (are you kidding me!) the doctor. I was also told to fill out the paperwork.

I kind of looked at the papers in my lap, and said, “The words are all blurry,” but I was complaining to an empty room. I put on my glasses and that did help a bit, because now I could make out that the health questions were multiple choice, so I figured out that if the sentence began with; “Do You Have?”  I’d just mark “No!”  Finally, I did read, “Do your muscles or joints hurt? Do you have arthritis?”  At that, I just wrote: “I am old. What do you expect?”

So, now, I was in an empty room and the minutes ticked away and away, and I could not read anything, and the TV was explaining cataract procedure.  I could have become very angry, but instead I proceeded to do my Yoga chair exercises.  I surprised the technician when she caught me sliding up and down the wall doing knee squats.

I rarely get angry—frustrated, YES—angry NO. Anger is exhausting and hard to deal with, but lately it has become a lifestyle in the United States. Everybody is mad about something. For instance instead of trusting science, some people would rather feed their anger by playing the blame game while getting furious with Chinese Bats, Chinese Labs or Chinese Checkers, while what really matters is getting the pandemic under control by getting inoculated.

Thus, I have some trepidation about the forthcoming Holidays. So many people are on such a short tether. For instance, it used to be that at School Meetings the worst ruckus was over who had forgotten to bring the cookies, and the meanest person was the Cafeteria Lady who threw tapioca pudding on top of your mashed potatoes. No one would have thought of putting a contract out on her life for sloppy food dishing.

I am afraid that Thanksgiving will become a toxic holiday. It was fun when Robin Williams said, “When cooking the turkey, my Mother forgot to take out the bag of giblets.”  So, when dinner was served, she said, ‘Do you want dark meat, white meat or plastic dip?” And, it used to be that the worst thing at dinner was the family vegan’s annoying lecture about the main dish. Nowadays, it just might be the obnoxious son-in-law who rips off Grandpa’s mask and brags about his right to make everybody sick.

And then there are the folks at Christmas time who will decide to beat up the Salvation Army Bell Ringer because he ding a lings with his left hand, and they only like right hand ding a lingers. No lefties for them!  Right now, people just don’t get along. People don’t listen and people are afraid, and fear is the mother of anger.

So can it get better? Will Rogers said it years ago: “Congress is so strange. A man gets up to speak and says nothing, nobody listens and then everybody disagrees,” and the philosopher Homer Simpson added, “Marge it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.”

It’s all there. People want to be listened to, respected and trusted. The problem is that these things have to be earned. So that’s my case against anger.  

However, those who enjoy living on a short fuse will claim that anger has its advantages. For instance, Lamborghini didn’t produce a single car until Enzo Ferrari made him really, really mad,  and Senator Ted Cruz didn’t have a viable angry moment until  he could beat up on Sesame Street’s beloved Big Bird—a big puppet who has a following that can’t vote.

Is anger  contagious?—Maybe—but what about insanity?

Esther Blumenfeld