PARTY TALK

Several years ago, I was invited to a fancy, black tie New Year’s Eve party at the home of a friend in San Francisco. Besides the three catering companies that the hostess had hired, there were a cartoonist, a fortuneteller and an opera singer to entertain the 500 guests that roamed about the house and gardens. Every room in the house overflowed with people, and as the evening wore on the guests got louder and louder as alcohol clogged their ears and the music played on.

Not knowing anyone---other than the hostess and her mother (who had escaped the festivities by hiding in her bedroom and locking the door) I roamed from room to room on each level of the magnificent mansion.

After tasting food that each caterer had prepared, I sat on a sofa and made extremely small talk with whoever sat down next to me. It was easy since no one ever listens at this kind of party. So I could say whatever I chose to say such as, “I just returned from a trip to The Queensland Coast.” And the woman next to me asked, “How was it?” I said, “Extremely Australian.”  “Lovely,” she said as she got up to talk to someone she recognized.

I finally climbed the stairs to the third floor ballroom, where people were gyrating madly to the beat of the band. Sipping on a glass of wine, I overheard a young woman tell her companions that she had been accepted into nursing school, and that it came at a fortuitous time, because her grandfather had passed away and left her a sizable inheritance. Also, she had recently broken her engagement to a man who got fired from his job for doing some hanky panky with the firm’s funds.

Finally, I tired of watching the dancers and made my way back down to the second floor, where people were lined up to have a session with the fortuneteller. I spied the young woman in line, who I had seen in the ballroom, and I said, “Excuse me, but you really don’t have to stay in line to get your fortune told. I am a psychic and I can do it for you.” She was most impressed. After all, I knew the hostess. I wore a fancy dress and I looked pretty honest. So, we, and some of her friends sat down for the psychic event.

I held her hand and told her that she was very fortunate to be rid of the deadbeat she had been engaged to. I also told her that her grandfather loved her a lot to leave her such a fortune, and that he was very proud of her, because she was going to nursing school. Then I left her, and her friends, who were the only speechless people in the room.

On the main floor, the opera singer was working on her “Do” “Re” “Mi’s,” when a woman approached me. “I am so impressed,” she said. “I have never seen a real psychic in action. You are wonderful!  How did you know all of that information about the young woman upstairs?”  I told her, “Don’t be too impressed, I heard her tell her friends that story in the ballroom.” She looked at me and said, “I know that’s not true.  I read that you psychics are very selective.” And then she whispered, “Can you tell me just a little something about me?” At that, I handed her my untouched glass and said, “I know you will enjoy this glass of wine. It was a very good year.”  She thanked me profusely as I left.

Happy New Year!  Take my word for it, 2017 will be another year. Have I ever lied to you before?

Esther Blumenfeld 

THE BEST GIFT EVER

When I was a little girl, someone gave me a moving company box. I turned it upside down and cut out a door and a window. It was the best gift ever! I have seen toddlers tossing gifts aside and delightedly playing with the wrapping paper. Sometimes a simple item will surprise and delight---or not.

Fifty years ago, when my friends Bob and Lynne were planning their wedding, Lynne’s wealthy Aunt told them that she was sending them a valuable, irreplaceable gift.  Lynne imagined a beautiful piece of china or crystal, but when the package arrived, it turned out to be two extremely heavy, hippopotamus head bookends.  “I hated those bookends, but I didn’t want to hurt my Aunt’s feelings,” Lynne bemoaned. “But, no matter how many times we moved, and no matter how many times I dropped those damned hippopotamus, they never did break.”

It makes us happy to give gifts, and we hope that what we have given people will make them happy. However, in all fairness, sometimes gift giving can be daunting. On occasion, I have given gifts and received no acknowledgment, so there was no way to know if the gift was received, let alone appreciated. Often gift cards are not used, and mailed checks are not cashed.  In those cases, if someone would only say, “Thank you. You shouldn’t have”---I wouldn’t have.

My husband, Warren (of blessed memory) was a very generous man, but on occasion he would bring me some odd gifts. I received loaves of sourdough bread carried in a suitcase from San Francisco, and a Styrofoam box containing a lobster from Boston. That made some kind of weird sense since he liked both sourdough bread and lobster. And he was the boy, who, many years ago, had given his dainty mother a basketball for her birthday.

 However, when he got off the commuter train in Chicago, and presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, I thought it a bit odd since he had never brought me flowers before. I was really touched until I noticed the big, black ribbon that tied the flowers together with a sticker wishing me a “peaceful rest.”

“Thank you,” said I, “But what’s up with the black ribbon?” He had a big smile on his face when he said, “All day long, vendors were selling these bouquets on every corner for the Senator’s funeral. At the end of the day, they were giving them away, so I brought one for you.” 

He looked so proud, that I didn’t have the heart to say, “I’m glad you didn’t bring me the wreath.” I know it is the thought that counts, but I never did figure out what in the world he was thinking.

It is best not to expect too much, because sometimes you will be disappointed. When I was a pre-teen, I really wanted a bicycle, but when I saw the box, I knew this was going to be something I couldn’t ride. Some door-to-door salesman had talked my parents into buying me a large all-in-one-book encyclopedia. When I saw how excited and proud they were to give me that gift, I swallowed my disappointment, and thanked them profusely. After awhile, I did use the book, and eventually got my bike. 

I am glad that my parents never knew how disappointed I was with their gift, because the love behind it was what really counted.  Afterall, the people who care about us are the real gifts---the real blessings---that we should cherish everyday.

Esther Blumenfeld

CELEBRATE WHILE YOU CAN

A friend of mine recently said, “I don’t want to celebrate my birthday anymore, because I’m just too old.”  “Well,” I responded, “I for one am glad your parents had sex!” That visual stopped her in her tracks and she began to celebrate with an extra large martini.

No one is ever too old to commemorate a happy occasion, and it is selfish to deprive your friends of the opportunity to enjoy happy times in your life with you. That is, if you have any friends left after being such a sour puss.

Lord knows, there are enough bad times to go around, and every once in awhile, it’s good to remind ourselves to kick up our heels and have some fun. If you do that, with loving friends, and/or family, there will be plenty of good wishes to go around.

If someone is a good person, it is a joy to celebrate the day of his or her birth.  If someone is a rotten person, he is probably the result of parents who had sex only once in their lives, and didn’t like it very much. In that case it’s a good idea to throw a party and not invite him.

There are all kinds of anniversaries that offer another excuse to celebrate. I have known people who celebrate both their wedding anniversary and the anniversary of their divorce. Some people throw parties for pets.

I once had a neighbor who paid $5000.00 to have a portrait painted of her buck-toothed dog. The whole neighborhood was invited to celebrate the portrait unveiling. The painting wasn’t all that good, but the story of that party lives on.

Sometimes, when no one is available to celebrate an occasion with me, I take myself out for dinner and entertain myself. I make a toast to life---the one I’ve led so far, and to the right-now-day that I am living.

With all the joy and pain that life brings, I’m still grateful for each blessed day. I am glad that my parents knew each other in a Biblical way, since I can always celebrate them on my birthday.  I can also celebrate the birth of my baby brother, even though it took me awhile to understand that my parent’s gift to me came with a no return policy.

So, rejoice while you can---the blessings of family, friends and life itself. Take it from me; tears from laughter are the best kind.

Esther Blumenfeld

CREDIBLE INCREDIBLE

If you order a Service Dog Vest on-line, that does not make your dog a Service Dog---nor does it make you a disabled person---unless fibbing is considered a disability that requires a pet.

Many things can be ordered on-line, but one of my favorites is certification as a “Life Coach.”  Life Coaching has become very popular, and the Harvard Business Review reports that it has become a $1 billion a year industry, and some Life Coaches make as much as $3000 an hour.  These people are not psychologists, psychiatrists, State Certified counselors or even priests, rabbis or ministers.  They are just regular folks you hire to tell you how to live your life better.

But, what if you get a Life Coach that has more problems than you do?

So, how does one become a “Certified Life Coach”? Easy! For example, one On-line course involves a 4-day home study class for $795 with an “easy payment plan.”  Of course, you have to stay home for 4 days to take it. This group claims to have over 6000 graduates worldwide. Obviously, that is an accreditation scam.

Everyone who has attended a college knows the term “accreditation,” which is the gold standard to assess different professional disciplines, but some, so called, coach training schools accredit themselves.

Presently, there are three Coach Industry associations; the WABC (Worldwide Association of Business Coaches), the IAC (International Association of Coaches) and the ICF (International Coach Federation). However, they have differences about coaching that prevent participants from transferring credit from one school to another.  And, there is a missing authority to accredit.  In other words, who accredits the supposed accreditors?

There is no reporting of learning outcome or success of graduates in the field---no statistical credibility. Being a fact driven person, testimonials just don’t do it for me.

Here’s what I surmise: No matter what the problem, when people want to make a life change, sometimes they need some support to do so. That’s why alcoholics go to AA that has a proven track record. Life Coaching is an unregulated activity which is often adopted by, perhaps well meaning, people, but many times unqualified people, who offer advice to others without any data to suggest the effectiveness of what they are doing---nor a Masters, PhD, or Medical degree to exhibit years of qualified training. And, there are many bad apples in the industry that are more than willing to peddle their services on the Internet and take peoples money.

If I have discouraged you from becoming a “Life Coach,” there are still many life- changing careers you can order on-line. You can become your own attorney, or get a certificate to perform weddings.  You can order a Russian bride and marry her by performing the ceremony yourself. And, you can order a casket made to order, but I think you might have to order some guys with shovels to finish the job.

One Life Coach found that “patients had damaged their inner-child.”  Unfortunately, she urges them to let that kid out!  I suggest that if that inner brat shows up at your house, you go on-line to get a Life Coach to put him back!

Esther Blumenfeld

THICK SKIN--THIN SKIN

I recently saw a one-year-old toddler bang his head on a table that he was trying to run under. He cried and held a piece of ice on his forehead. Then he tossed the ice away and quickly resumed scampering around the room. The child had begun to learn that sometimes life throws you for a loop, and it can hurt. But he chose to “suck it up” and got on with his whatever.

You can only skin a rabbit once, but people whose feelings are easily hurt can get skinned over and over again. I think that overly sensitive, thin-skinned supposed-to-be-adults can be humorless, vain and all too ready to stockpile resentments and bitterness for years, and sometimes waste energy trying to get even.

In all fairness, it takes a heap of living to develop a thick skin. After the Chinese government severely abused his Country and his people, someone asked the Dalai Lama, “Why aren’t you angry?” He replied, “If I got angry then I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, or eat, and my health would deteriorate. My anger couldn’t change the past or improve the future, so what use would it be?”

A thick-skinned person can let go of anger, evaluate a situation and choose how to act in response. That is what Martin Luther King did. There’s a Texas saying, “A worm is the only animal that can’t fall down.” Why Texans think that worms are animals is another story.

As a professional writer and also having experienced the vicissitudes of life, I count my battle scars and rate myself among the thick-skinned, although that does not mean that I have lost my ability to feel for the needs other people. If my feelings had gotten hurt every time I faced rejection of my work, I would have quit a long time ago.

It’s a given that in the realm of humor, someone will take offense. If I wrote a funny article about turtles, I can promise you that some turtle lover would get his knickers in a twist. To illustrate my point: The best seller, OH, LORD, I SOUND JUST LIKE MAMA received many awards and accolades, but one day, when the mail arrived, I found a copy of the book in my mailbox. The accompanying note read, “I won’t read your book, because the title takes The Lord’s name in vain.” No one who purchased the other 250,000 copies of the book complained, but Boy! Did she get even with me!

So, to summarize: 

Thin-skinned people need to remember that life is a balancing act. Unless you are a hermit, you have to deal with other people who can sometimes be rude and downright hurtful. Sometimes, when it’s important, you have to push back. Other times, it’s okay to just---let it go---along with the resentments.  Pick your battles carefully because life is really short.

On the other hand: If you develop a skin so thick that it becomes an iron shield, you can then become oblivious to the real concerns of other people, and the price to pay is not feeling anything. No one wants a doctor who views his patient as a body part rather than a whole person who is in emotional and/or physical pain.

A doctor once advised me to have surgery. He said, “ I did the same operation on my mother-in-law.” I responded, “Dr. I have only one question. Do you like your mother-in-law?” A little push back can go a long way.

Esther Blumenfeld