So Many Columns and So Much Support

Sometimes we pass a milestone and don’t even realize it.

For example, when driving, have you ever glanced at the odometer, only to notice that you’re just a few miles past a major mileage turning?  Why is it a kick to notice the exact moment the numbers change from 9,999 to 10,000?  Why are we disappointed when we miss it by an instant? 

Last week I published my 200^th column without realizing it.  Had I known, I would have written a thoughtful, poetic homage to my past columns, perfectly timed to coincide with that milestone.  Instead, I smacked myself on the forehead and uttered a perfect imitation of Homer Simpson’s “Doh!”

I discovered this fact while updating my portfolios.  I enjoy keeping print copies of my work, hoping that future generations might leaf through the pages and get a glimpse of their ancestor’s life.  With a backlog of clippings, I finally got around to organizing my fifth portfolio.  Sliding the last piece of newsprint into the protective sleeve, I picked up my first portfolio and opened it to the front page.  There was my very first column, ruminating on why July 4^th is often considered the mid-point of summer.  Glancing at the article’s date, July 23, 2008, I thought to myself, ‘Holy crow, I’ve been writing this column for almost four years.’  Four years without missing a week.  Four years without (hopefully) repeating a subject.

As regular readers know, math is not my strong suit, but even I could work out four years times 52 weeks equals more than 200 columns.  Using an online calculator, I plugged in the dates of both my first column and my most recent, surprised by the answer: 200.  Doh!  I missed it!

When I told my husband that I’d written 200 columns, his immediate reply was, “That’s enough for a book.” Which provoked my typical response: “Yeah, right!”

It’s one thing to read my ramblings when they’re bundled together with local news sports and the police log.  But plunking down hard earned cash for a collection of my diatribes?  Well, that’s a whole other animal.

His comment prompted me to look back through some of my old columns.  Some were almost embarrassingly bland, while others still make me laugh.  My personal favorites included my take on Christmas letters (pretentious and braggy), designer dogs, my favorite Halloween costume (a pack of cigarettes), Amish bread starter and Spam and bean pie.  I’ve weighed the merits of “Twilight”, “Harry Potter” and “Fifty Shades of Grey”.  I’ve compared and contrasted “Slumdog Millionaire” with “Paul Blart: Mall Cop”.

I spent a good deal of space talking about my children: how “tighty whities” are verboten at middle school; the near miss tornado during last year’s Six Flags band trip; countless Cub Scout, Robotics, Taekwondo and other school activities.  I’ve shared quite a bit about my family, but I’ve always tried to do it with tact and grace.  I’ve lamented the passing of music greats such as Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston, while roasting the likes of the Balloon Boy (remember him?) and the scientists who developed the Artic Apple, which doesn’t turn brown when you cut it.  Heck, I devoted an entire column to pre-sliced cheese.

I guess I must be doing something right, though, because those of you who read my missives are kind enough to call, email and stop me in the grocery store to share your feedback.  The phrase I hear most consistently from readers is, ‘I feel like you’re writing about my life.”

So thank you for reading my first 200 columns.  It’s time to look ahead to the next 200, where I’m sure to cover everything from my child going off to high school to the New Jersey tanning mom to our nation’s obsession with bumper stickers and auto decals. 

Consider this one down, 199 to go.

Junk Mail Seems to Have our Numbers

I’m beginning to dread the mail.

At 22, as soon as I graduated from college, I began receiving the first in a long line of credit card applications.  Had I known then what I know now about interest rates, credit ratings and the dangers of paying a minimum balance, I would have ripped the offers in two and thrown them in the trash.  Sadly, I learned the hard way about the evils of “buy now-pay later”, a lesson I’m still trying hard to master more than 25 years later.

In my mid-thirties, my child bearing years, I began receiving coupons in the mail for baby formula, diapers and Gymboree classes.  Once again, marketers had correctly guessed my stage of life and were targeting my interests accordingly.

Now that I am on the backside of my forties (or more accurately, almost all the way over that particular hill), I shudder to think what is waiting in my mailbox.  My husband, who is a year older than me, is giving me a sneak preview.

My husband turned 50 on October 27.  On October 28, he received an application in the mail from the AARP, formerly known as the American Association for Retired Persons.  They are only known by AARP now because they cater to more than just retired seniors.  And while I previously believed it to be a club for just the 65 and over crowd, they are now recruiting members as young as…you guessed it…50! 

My husband tossed aside the application, muttering under his breath.  A month later, a second application arrived.  AARP is nothing if not persistent.  A few months after that, my husband received an even more disturbing piece of mail:  an information packet from a funeral home.  There was no muttering this time, just full volume grumbling.   It was a challenge back in our 30’s having to face the task of creating a will that would provide for our children.   And now just 15 years later we’re already being solicited to pick out a casket? 

Recently my husband received another piece of mail, this one an invitation to a dinner seminar with a most unfortunate title  “But what if I live?” The seminar focuses on healthcare costs, retirement options, Social Security and other financial topics that concern those who might live to a ripe old age.  I get it.  You need to be prepared.  But that title still creeps me out.  Don’t we want to live a long, happy life?  It’s hard enough to prepare for my eventual death.  The statement “But what if I live?” sends the message that living might be the less preferred option.  How reassuring.

It’s time for me to steel myself against the onslaught of mail catering to my current demographic.  I imagine I’ll soon start receiving ads for hearing aids and Hoveround chairs.  Wilfred Brimley will urge me to order diabetes-testing equipment online (or as he pronounces it, “dye-a-biddies”).  I’ll receive phone calls from the unfortunately named Tom Kruse, not the blockbuster actor but the founder and pitchman for The Scooter Store.  He’ll ask me if I have limited mobility and assure me that he can work with my insurance company to get me a scooter at little or no cost to me.

Back when I was that new college graduate, I actually thought 50 was old.  Now that I’m almost 50, I understand that old is my current age plus fifteen years.  It doesn’t help matters that I still feel like that immature 22-year-old on the inside, albeit one who can’t read menus in dimly lit restaurants and needs a good 20 seconds to get up from a kneeling position, leaning heavily on a counter while doing so.

So thank you, AARP, for forcing open the doorway to my golden years a good decade before I expected it.  Far be it for me to live in the past, clutching Gymboree coupons to my chest, wailing about my lost youth.  I’ll face the future with good grace. And if I happen to receive a diaper coupon in the mail, will it upset me?

Depends.

Hung Up Over Mystery Phone Call

Everyone enjoys a good story.  Here’s a gem my sister in New Jersey recently shared with me.

It was a typical evening in my sister’s household.  Her adult son was texting friends and playing on Xbox.  Her husband was dozing in his recliner in front of the television while my sister did laundry.  Suddenly, their house phone rang.

Can’t you just picture this as a scene in a movie?  All is bucolic until the catalyst emerges to set a chain of events in motion, in this case, the phone call.  My brother-in-law answered and a voice asked for him by name.  He confirmed his identity, at which point the voice on the other end said that she was calling from San Diego and was actually trying to reach a neighbor that lived a few doors down from my sister and brother-in-law.  The woman said that it was urgent that she reach the neighbor since repeated attempts to call this person had failed.  Would my brother-in-law be willing to take down her number and have the neighbor call her right away?

If this were an action movie, this would be my brother-in-law’s chance to play the hero.  He would dash down to the neighbor, carrying this message of great importance.  What could be so urgent?  A medical emergency?  A death in the family?  The birth of a new baby?  Just as my brother-in-law was about to send his son to the neighbor’s house, my sister began suspecting that something was afoul.

“What if this is a ploy to get us out of the house?” she asked.  Now we’ve gone from an action movie to a horror film.  Can’t you just hear the ominous music?  Was someone watching the home?  Was there an abduction plot afoot? A home invasion?  Was the call actually coming from inside the house? (sorry, couldn’t resist).  Why didn’t this person in San Diego call local authorities instead of a neighbor?  And just how did they get their name and number?

My sister and brother-in-law decided it was time to get police involved.  As my brother-in-law explained to the officer the nature of the phone call, my sister decided to do a little investigative research.  The horror movie evolved into a mystery.  Though the caller left a number with a San Diego exchange, the caller i.d. listed a New Jersey number.  Going online, my sister initiated a reverse phone look-up, only to discover that the number belonged to a collection agency. 

Mystery solved.  The neighbor in question was a deadbeat.  After repeated attempts to contact him, the credit agency decided to try a different tactic: harassing the neighbors. “Just imagine,” my sister laughed, “your doorbell rings at 8:45 at night.  It’s the police on your doorstep, telling you that debt collectors are bugging your neighbors because you haven’t paid your bills or returned their calls.”  I’ve subsequently discovered that whitepages.com has a search engine that allows you to find the names, addresses and phone numbers of your neighbors, which is how the credit agency found my brother-in-law. 

I’m glad this story had a happy ending, at least for my sister and brother-in law.  I can’t say the same for the neighbor, who probably won’t be invited to the neighborhood block party anytime soon.  The moral of this story is twofold:  Be wary when a stranger tries to send you out of the house at night on an “urgent” matter.  And pay your bills.

With Bible Trivia, it's All What You Noah

Where did God give the Hebrews the Ten Commandments?  What was Adam’s job in the Garden of Eden?  What weapons did David bring to his battle with Goliath?  If you’re a fan of Jeopardy or the game “Trivial Pursuit”, you might know the answers to these questions.  If not…read on.

My church, UCC Norwell, has been following an “Alpha to Omega” curriculum this year.  Promoted as “all the stories in the bible you should know”, the study began in September with the Creation and has worked its way through the bible since.  Many of the stories were familiar to me, including Noah and the Flood, Jonah and the Whale and the raising of Lazarus.  Other stories were new to me, such as the circumstances surrounding David and Bathsheba (adultery!) and the devotion of Ruth to her mother-in-law, Naomi (“whither though goest, I will go”).

This has been a three-pronged study for me.  I’ve helped teach these stories each week to the kids in Sunday school.  Our minister incorporates the story into his sermon, and the youth group leader recaps the stories during Sunday night youth group.

The culmination of this yearlong study was Friday’s ultimate showdown: a night of bible trivia with prizes awarded to the team with the most correct answers.  Church members split themselves into teams that included church council, the choir, Mission and Outreach, the Deacons, the middle school kids, (who dubbed themselves The Holy Ghosts), a high school team and several others.  I rallied my fellow Sunday school teachers to band together.   In the days leading up to the event, I reviewed all of the stories from the past year, writing down obscure facts that might possibly be covered. (Did you know Noah was more than 600 years old when the flood occurred?)

For fun I decided to rope my husband into joining our team.  Though not a churchgoer, he’s one of those people who know a little bit about a lot of subjects.  His puns also make for good comic relief in tense moments, and I take any opportunity I can to get him inside a church.  A teammate brought her Jewish husband, rationalizing that he had a great knowledge of the Old Testament.

Excitement was crackling in the air that as the teams enjoyed their pre-game appetizers, a kind of scripture carb-load before the game.  The high school team leaned back in their chairs, supremely confident in their ability to sweep the event, while the middle schoolers prepared by loading up on brownies and Mountain Dew.  A hush fell across the crowd as the game began.

The rules were simple: 30 multiple-choice questions, 15 per round, with an intermission in between rounds.  No bibles, notes or electronic devices allowed on the tables during the rounds.  Can you imagine being caught cheating at bible trivia?  Each question and its four possible answers were projected on a large screen.  After conferring, each team had to circle their corresponding answer on a slip of paper, which a runner then carried to the scorekeepers.  Once the slips were collected, the answer would be revealed, to various cheers and groans.

Some answers were easy while others were worded nebulously, prompting some to challenge answers.  For example, the answer to, “How did Solomon get his wisdom?” was “From God” but could have also been “He asked for it”. (FYI, he asked God for it).  Concessions were made for a few of these questions.  My favorite moments involved my agnostic husband, bible in hand, charging up to the minister to question the legitimacy of a particular answer.  My friend’s husband did indeed know many of the Old Testament answers and quite a few of the New Testament ones as well.  While I hoped that The Holy Ghosts would emerge victorious, I couldn’t completely squash my competitive nature.  Could the teacher’s take the win?

By evening’s end, after much laughter, cheering, some good-natured arguing and fun, the results were in: a first-place tie between my team of teachers and their students, The Holy Ghosts.  The fellowship hall erupted in cheers for the victors as the once-confident high school team slumped in their seats.  The winning teams were awarded purple“A2Ω” t-shirts while the team with the lowest score (the Deacons), were awarded the booby prize of “My First Bible” picture books.

It felt great seeing the kids revel in their victory, which reflected back on those of us who taught them.  But mostly it was just a fun way to wrap up our yearlong study.  And for those of you who are curious, the answers are: Mt Horeb; to tend the garden; and a slingshot with five stones.

Racy Book's Appeal lies in a 'Grey' Area

Sorry gentlemen...this one is just for the ladies.

So, have you gotten your “Fifty Shades” on yet? Of course I’m referring to the bestselling book “Fifty Shades of Grey”, the first in the trilogy by British author E. L. James that also includes “Fifty Shades Darker” and “Fifty Shades Freed”. You may have seen friends posting about it on Facebook, discussing it over coffee or surreptitiously slipping copies to each other to borrow. The book has been featured on numerous magazine covers and the author has made the rounds of the morning talk shows. 

For those in the dark, “Fifty Shades of Grey” is the story of Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. She is a shy, unassuming college graduate who meets a mysterious, handsome, slightly older billionaire. He pursues her with the intention of engaging her in a very unconventional relationship. The three books chronicle the stages of their highly unusual courtship. Initially available only as an e-book, the mass market paperback hit shelves early last month.

The writing style is reminiscent of the “Twilight” series; no small wonder since the author originally began writing her story as “Twilight” fan fiction. The setting for both is the Pacific Northwest.  Ana and Bella are both awkward young girls unaware of their effect on men. Christian and Edward Cullen are both physically perfect and rich but possess elements of danger. As with Bella and Edward, Christian and Ana overcome an assortment of obstacles over the course of their relationship.

This is where the similarities end. While “Twilight” is written for a young adult audience, “50 Shades of Grey” is definitely for the over-21 crowd only. Let me be crystal clear on this point. Do NOT download these books to your teen’s Kindle, or any family-shared electronic device. While Edward and Bella’s relationship remains chaste through most of the “Twilight” series, “50 Shades of Grey” is loaded with pages of explicit descriptions of the characters’ lovemaking. 

And when I say pages, I mean hundreds of pages of whoopee sprinkled with approximately 25 pages of plot and character development. Christian’s character has some unusual predilections that might turn off some readers. While racy novels are not something I typically read, several friends recommended it, which piqued my interest. When my pre-ordered paperback copy arrived, I dove in.

Right from the beginning I found myself engrossed by the story of Christian and Ana.  Most nights I tend to nod off around 9 p.m.  That first night, when my husband came to bed, I glanced up from my book and realized it was 11:30p.m.  A friend later confessed that she stayed up till 1 a.m. to finish her copy.  The following day was much the same.  I’d do my errands and household chores, but in between I would sneak a few minutes with “Fifty Shades” to see what the characters were up to.  The intimate scenes were described at great length and in salacious detail, which left me both intrigued and, at times, uncomfortable.  But it was the evolution of the couple’s relationship that kept me hooked.  By the end of the first book, I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next.

By the middle of the second book I couldn’t get enough of the emotional aspect of Christian and Ana’s relationship.  The physical aspect, however, was starting to get on my nerves.  All the steamy sequences were starting to sound the same, to the point where I began skimming the carnal details to get to what little plot there was. Call me romantic, old fashioned or just an old fuddy-duddy, but by the middle of book three I was wishing the characters would exercise a little more self-control when it came to their behavior in elevators (and airplanes…and boats…and just about anywhere else).  Being a writer, I was more interested in how the author handled character development and conflict than the endless descriptions of the characters’ unbridled passion.  Still, I found myself rooting for Ana and Christian right up to the end.

As with Twilight, The Millennium Series and Harry Potter, when I finished the series I felt a bit sad that my literary love affair with Christian and Ana was over. Luckily, I have a list of friends waiting to borrow the books, allowing me to enjoy it again vicariously through them. 

So is “Fifty Shades” a good book or a bad book?  I guess that all depends on your individual taste.  I personally wouldn’t categorize it in such black and white terms.  It truly falls somewhere within those fifty shades of grey.