The Art of Doing Nothing

A few years ago while sitting on a beach in Southern Italy, I noticed a man kicking a soccer ball down the shoreline. He kicked it a few feet at a time, nothing too strenuous, just a nice bit of play in the middle of a glorious sunny afternoon. It struck me as unusual that this man would take the time to do this. It was as if he had all the time in the world at his disposal and the only thing he cared about at that moment was kicking that soccer ball.  The explanation for his behavior then occurred to me. He had developed  the abilty to practice  l’arte di non fare niente. This is an Italian expression which translates as the art of doing nothing.


Ah, dolce far niente! It is also known as the sweetness of doing nothing. Now let's ponder this for a moment or two. Such poetic phrases aren't they? In the United States we refer to this as killing time, a crude and brutal term that implies wastefulness. Yes, we are a nation of overachievers and multi-taskers. Now don’t get me wrong, I can multi- task with the best of them, but every so often I think of that man, kicking that soccer ball,and I yearn for a little down time of my own.


A term such as the art of doing nothing, implies something more than sitting in a lazy boy in front of a television set.  It demands more from us. The art of doing nothing and doing it well could be realized in many ways.  For some it may be reached by drinking wine on the deck while listening to the cicadas or by lingering over several cups of coffee with an old friend.  No box wine or  instant coffee will do.  For some it may be accomplished by sipping tea by the fire, with a cat softly purring nearby, or  by watching a baby sleep. For others the art is practiced by taking the time to share a story or two with the locals at the market. People watching at the piazza, a swing at the park, and making animal creatures from play dough would all qualify.

I know what you are thinking. None of the above mentioned things are nothing and they are indeed something. L’arte di non fare niente implies spontaneity and doing a thing for nothing more that the pleasure of doing it. The man on the beach was not out to refine his technique, burn carbs or impress the ladies. He was kicking that ball for no other reason than the sheer enjoyment of his solitary movement along the water’s edge, and that my friends, is a beautiful thing.

Going Nowhere Fast

Life is good.  Even so, as I navigate through the grand buffet of the good life, it can be tricky.  Lingering too long can take it's toll. Some choices must be made along the way.  In order to stay in the game for the long run, some time must be carved out to take care of ourselves.     

As part of the my treat myself better plan, I decided to head to the gym to take in a spinning class. For those of you who have never taken part in such a class, the concept is simple. It starts with a darkened room filled with a bunch of strangers on stationary bikes. Together with these nameless, faceless individuals, you all ride your a—s off, accompanied by extremely loud music. There is typically a gray haired man in full biking regalia at the front of the room shouting commands and words of encouragement into a microphone that is mounted to his face.

It really isn’t so bad and he does try to keep you from going crazy by having you stand up and sit down more times than the attendees at a Catholic wedding. Then of course there are your fellow participants that shout out the occasional Apache war cry or howl at the moon.  I am not kidding!  They actually do this! I did mention that it was dark. This has a double benefit. The lack of light prevents others from observing the belly roll that has formed as one crouches over the handle bars.  It also gives the rider a strange sense of obscurity, and allows everyone to feel free to look and sound ridiculous for the full forty five minute period.

Why would I choose to spend my time staring at a bunch of sweaty back sides bouncing up and down as I hide in the back row?  Because I realize that I finally need to do penance for all of the pasta, wine and song that I have enjoyed for the past three decades or so.  Now I don’t plan on giving up pasta, wine, or song anytime soon. I’ve been a party girl from way back and though the party ends a little earlier these days, I plan to carry on.  However, as I find myself at fifty, I have vowed to turn over a new leaf or two. A few days a week I vow to join the ranks of the peddlers and steppers. I pledge to move this old bod of mine a bit more often as we strut to the oldies, run in circles, climb stairs and ride bikes that go nowhere. Who knows, maybe I’ll even grow to like it.

Probably not.

Ten Things I Know For Sure

As I wind down the path to fifty, there are a few things that I have learned along the way that deserve a word or two. The messages that ring true at twenty are less enduring at thirty, forty and fifty…. Less drama more pajama, that is my mantra. We old folks love to share our gems of wisdom, so here goes. The top ten things that I know for sure are:

Number One: It is almost never that big of a deal. I look back on many of the things that may have upset me in the past and I realize how trivial they now seem.

Number Two: Don’t worry about what other people think. There is an old expression that goes something like this. ”You would spend less time worrying about what other people thought of you, if you only realized how seldom they actually do.”

Number Three: Always take time to plant tomatoes. I wish that I had spent a lot less time chasing the dangling carrots and more time planting my own tomatoes. No matter how important you think you are to an organization, you can and will be replaced. There is always some eager beaver that will rise to the occasion.

Number Four: Ask for what you want. If you don’t, you may never get it. Speak up! Let it be known how you want to live, work, eat, vacation etc. No one will be a better advocate for you than you.

Number Five: Be comfortable with your own skin. Do take care when making choices. Some things like tattoos last forever, so if a mid-life crisis is on the horizon, it may be better to go for the massage, unless you are really sure you want what you think you want.

Number Six: Olive oil is better than butter. It is much healthier and it tastes better,that is unless you are making frosting. There are exceptions to every rule.

Number Seven: Better to have two desserts than six glasses of wine. You will feel much better in the morning and may actually save calories, if anyone is counting.

Number Eight: An orchestra is not needed when a piano solo will do. It is Ok to do just enough once in awhile. We can conserve our energy for when we really want to shine.

Number Nine: Even an ostrich is beautiful to another ostrich. Pick your style and go with it.

And finally……drum roll…..

Number Ten: Sometimes enough is really enough. Contentment is a valid emotion.

Facebook, Friend or Folly!

Those of you that read my blog will notice something new. I finally succumbed to the hype surrounding social media and decided to give it a try! Yes, I have created my very own Facebook page.

Now for those of you who have no experience with Facebook, the simplest way to decribe it is a personal mini Web-site. You can list as little or as much information as you care to in your profile and you can share this information with your friends. You also have a Facebook Wall on which you can post photos, video and anything else that you want to share with said friends.

Your Facebook friends are others on Facebook that you have contacted and sent out a friend request that they accepted or vice versa. Sounds simple doesn't it. Welllll maybe... So far so good, but I will keep you posted.

There seems to be some sort of contest among some to see how many friends they can attach to their pages. It is a nice feeling to get a friend request in the mail,e-mail that is, but we do sometimes have to decide if we truly want that person to be privy to our daily activities and inner most thoughts. I got a friend request from my insurance guy who I see once every couple of years. I am sorry but I had to ignore that one. Aquaintance yes, nice guy, certainly, but friend, not so sure.

There are some that have hundreds and hundreds of friends listed. I am not sure I even know that many people. It makes me feel down right inadequate when I see stats like this, but you know there are overachievers everywhere.

Having finally experienced this Facebook phenomenom first hand I will say there are some very positive aspects to it. It has enabled me to get in touch with a couple of old friends that I have not seen in awhile. It is great to see pictures of their families and to catch up with them in this way. I hope that we can get together in person in the near term and without Facebook, who knows if we would have ever been on each other's radar screens. It is so easy as we get older to let old friendships fall by the wayside as we grow busy with the present.

It is also a fantastic way to stay tuned in to family members, especially those that live far away. It is possible to link up with cousins and in-laws and keep them informed on the family events with the posting of a couple of photos on the "Wall". We can trade some funny tidbits and get a glimpse of each others lives from afar.

Facebook can allow us to share little pieces of ourselves with others. I have seen a couple of really good videos, seen some good jokes and it is nice to see their smiling friendly faces pop up now and then. All in all, it is just plain good to hear from them and I feel fortunate to truly call them friends.

Twitter anyone?

Contemplating Cher

There are few people that have achieved worldwide recognition by their first names. One of them is most certainly Cher. We all know Cher from her music and movies. We grew up watching the Sonny and Cher show. We know her kids names, Chastity and Elijah Blue, her husbands names, Sonny and Greg and we have followed the trials and tribulations of her life and career. We have seen her grow from teenage hippie chick to full blown celebrity over the past four and a half decades. Few stars have achieved such enduring success in such a wide variety of genres.

Cher is currently the headliner at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. She is in pretty good company as her show alternates with that of the Divine Miss M and followed a multi-year stint by another superstar, Celine Dion, at the same location. I saw the show last week and it was nothing short of spectacular. My husband was generous enough to score seats just eight rows from the stage so we had a view that was up close and personal.

For an hour and a half, she performed in an array of costumes that left little to the imagination and some how it felt right. It was Vegas after all and it was Cher. We have at times witnessed the aging rock stars that still have talent but look a little silly in their tight pants under the bright lights. This was not the case here folks. Let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, sixty three has never looked so good! Her voice is as strong as ever and she moved about the stage with grace and agility.

As much as we can admire her talent and great looks, the thing that I admire most is her attitude. She is a survivor. Her self confidence and her conviction to settle for nothing less than what she wants resonates. She is not afraid to take life on her own terms even if that means that she is the subject of scrutiny and even a certain amount of ridicule from time to time. She does what she wants. It is that simple.

I almost missed out on this show. As often happens there is a variety of viewpoints whenever a group of people get together and try to select a plan of action. If I had a dollar for every time that I have deferred to someone else and went along with what other people wanted I would have a pretty big stack by now. There is always someone in the group that decides what the choice of entertainment will be or the choice of restaurant and there are those of us that typically follow along. We get used to this as we allow our spouses, children, family, clients, and even friends make the choices. Every once in awhile we have to stand up and say loud and clear, "This is what I want," whatever it may be, and stick to it.

Taking a stand and asking for what we want can be risky. What if it turns out badly? What if we end up looking silly? What if we make someone mad at us?

Taking a stand, asking for what we want, and not apologizing for the outcome, these are all qualities of a DIVA. Having the self confidence to make choices for ourselves and to take chances is essential to holding ourselves in high esteem and in receiving the same treatment from others.

As I watched the show, I sat there suspended in amazement and most certainly happy that I had done what I really wanted to do, no apologies needed. I plan to do it a whole lot more often.

Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs

Being a grandmother has many advantages. Among the many perks are unconditional bragging rights and unconditional love. We are unencumbered by the stress of young parenthood and have the freedom to enjoy every change and accomplishment of these little people, without all of the work. We do not have to worry about the extra laundry loads but can fully enjoy the mud pies.

One of the benefits of having grandchildren is having an excuse to be silly and young at heart. We can justify taking off early from the office on a Friday afternoon to sit in a dark theatre wearing 3-D glasses, munching popcorn and watching, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. Where else in life can such precious memories be created by something as simple as sharing a bag of multi-flavored tootsie rolls?

" I love the lime ones, grandma." my grandson tells me and kisses me on the cheek. Those kisses on the cheek will make you melt!

The hard part is not getting carried away. We do carry on, we proud grandparents and we have to watch it or we will bore our childless and grandchild less counterparts to tears. There are also the seasoned grandparents, those that have so many grandchildren that they are past the gaga stage that we young grandparents enjoy. They simply nod with understanding as we babble on and then change the subject.

We also have to watch ourselves so we don't become "that grandparent", you know the ones who are way too involved. We have to allow our kids to be good parents and we sometimes have to keep quiet about things. It is difficult to remain silent on a topic that means so very much to us but silent we must be, even if we think we know better.

If we are lucky we will be invited to the soccer games and dance recitals and we will find ourselves with a lump in our throats as we nervously watch them, hoping that they will succeed, giving them a high five when they do, and standing by with words of encouragement when they do not.

We also have to exercise restraint. Spoiling them is so very much fun but we must take care not to go too far. We must not overshadow what their parents try to do for them with our grandiose gestures and we can't buy them everything they see and allow them to do whatever they want. Not all of the time anyway.

That being said, there are certain inalienable grandparent's rights. It should always be OK to share tootsie rolls, build forts with every pillow in the house, hang things from string, and dance our crazy dance to our favorite movie theme song; I Like to Move It, Move It, in our pajamas as we watch Madagascar for the umpteenth time. It is the grandparent's right to make the kid's favorite foods. Mom and Dad can deal with the peas and carrots. We get to handle the pizza and spaghetti. We will make sure that there is ample root beer and plenty of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish at all times and we never have to take them for shots or dentist appointments. We always get to have a hug and a kiss goodbye and we do not have to go to parent teacher conferences or PTA meetings.

With all of this in mind, I will watch with anticipation for the next 3-D movie feature and I will be first in line for tickets. I will occasionally splurge for special things and make pepperoni pizzas on demand. Finally, I will try not to go on and on about any of this at the next dinner party! I promise.
                                                                 

Taking Woodstock

Every once in awhile, I indulge myself. I am a movie lover of sorts. Most of all, I love the whole movie going experience, the popcorn, the ice-cold soda and shutting out the world for a few hours in the semi-privacy of the dark theatre. I arrive a bit early to review the posters for upcoming events and to size up the crowd. You can tell much about a film by checking out who is attending. If there are teenage boys in line, I steer clear.

I also like to take a visual survey of the audience as we sit in the theatre waiting for the movie pre-views. Among the small crowd filing into the theatre for the Sunday showing of Taking Woodstock, an Ang Lee film, were several gray long haired couples, sixties throw-back types. You know what I’m talking about. They still wear sandals and T-shirts. They don’t dye or cut their hair, don’t wear make-up and they definitely do not “work for the man.” I was sure of that. Some of them may even have been to Woodstock. They were just that cool.

I was too young for Woodstock myself. As a ten year old hippie in training in 1969, I was groovy with my Peter Max posters and peace signs. It was fun to be a kid in the 60’s even if it was a bit confusing with all of the craziness going on.

Taking Woodstock is an entertaining step back in time to the 60’s era. The movie is a fact based fictional account of the events that led up to this historical event. Just recently the 40th anniversary of the great happening was celebrated. At the time, nothing had ever been seen like it and nothing has been seen like it since. This may not be a bad thing.

The movie focuses on the Tiber family who owned the motel El Monaco, located nearby the Yasgur farm, the ultimate location of Woodstock. The Tibers are first and second generation immigrants, pinching every penny to make ends meet and stay ahead of foreclosure. Young Elliot Tiber has left behind his life in the city to return home and help his parents stay afloat. Mom and Dad Tiber are somewhat cartoonish in character. But no one trusted anyone over thirty in those days, right?

Elliot steps in when the Woodstock promoters are turned away from other locations due to their inability to obtain a music festival permit. Elliot had an existing permit, an easy thing to accomplish as he was head of the local Chamber of Commerce and City Council. He then teamed up with Max Yasgur, a neighboring dairy farmer, to provide the location. As they initiated negotiations with Michael Lang, the concerts promoter, they estimated that there would be a few thousand attendees. They had no idea what they were in for!

Moviegoers are entertained with a behind the scenes peak at the turmoil that follows as thousands of concertgoers descend on the area, much to the chagrin of the locals. The hair, the clothes, the bare feet, the dialogue peppered with “beautiful” and “far out”, are all there. Once the concertgoers make it to their destination, problems ensue. There were not enough food, water or bathroom facilities to match the demand. Add to the mix a lot of mud and it is hard to believe that they all stayed, but stay they did and what they saw will never be matched.

The main focus of the film is the people, not the performers. Hints of Country Joe and the Fish, Janis Joplin and Crosby, Stills and Nash are heard in the background but there is little in the film about the musicians. This film is about the people behind the scenes and the concertgoers themselves. Footage of the concert is portrayed in split screen with many things going on at the same time. The viewer sees hints of popular culture as bra and draft card burnings by concertgoers are mixed in with ample tie dye and LSD. Oh yes, that was the 60’s!

A glimpse of the free food booths set up by the “Hog Farmers” and a ladies group that brought in thousands of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as well as the first aid tents to deal with bad trips paint quite a poicture. We all remember scenes of the hippies bathing in the open waters and sliding in the mud. Whoa boy! Hold me back from that fun!

One of the standout characters in the film is the cross-dressing former marine, Vilma who the Tibers hire to assist them with security during the event. Vilma is the catalyst for change among the Tiber family members as young Elliot comes of age and comes out during the film. Add to the mix a group of wacko local theatre performers living in the garage, a delusional Vietnam veteran with a host of other great characters and you have the recipe for a funny and entertaining film.

The actual event was by all rights a disaster for the promoters who lost money as thousands descended on the scene without tickets due to a snafu in the publicity and lack of any way to keep them out. The mess that was left behind was much more than Mr. Yasgur and the local townspeople had ever bargained for! Even so there was something magical if not mythical about the event. One thing for sure, things have surely never been the same since the sixties.

To see the movie trailer click the link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Iq8z2WDbKo

Am I Clueless About Music?

The other night I was sitting on my deck with a bottle of Conundrum, my new favorite sipping wine, singing songs to oldies tunes. We old folks do that sometimes. We get a little tipsy and break out the oldies like the Beatles, James Taylor, Lynard Skynard and Fleetwood Mac to name a few. So all at once I had a revelation. I am totally out of touch with the music world. I know all the words to these old songs, at least the ones where you can actually understand them. With Stevie Nicks I just go; Mena na na, jes a da me, be te tu la, se la win oh. This is Stevie language. Same for whenever I hear Pearl Jam.

The next day, I decided that a trip to the web was in order to check out what I have been missing. So I head to the Billboard.com to see what’s on the top of the list. Now I was always a rock and roll girl. None of that rap and hip hop sh-t for me. I could do some Country Rock, key word being rock. Off I go to the top ten rock chart . Who do I find at the number one spot? Pearl Jam.

I am thinking, well then, maybe I haven’t missed much in the last couple of decades after all and I pop on over to You Tube to check it out. There I find the video for “The Fixer” which incidentally was made for Target. Yes, you got that right, Target, the store with the big circles for their logo. I listen to the song and although I found the lyrics to be a bit immature and the melody to be quite repetitive, it wasn’t bad and was actually a catchy little tune with an upbeat message. What else would you expect when they are making this for Target. So you get the drift.

I then got caught up in watching some of the old Pearl Jam recordings and I remembered why I liked them. Now I was never a hard core Pearl Jam follower but I did always turn up the radio when the songs came on and I did buy a few of their old CD's which I am sure ended up in one of my kids cars. I made my way through a pot of coffee or so as I listened to their old hits. I still love Yellow Ledbetter, whatever that means, and I found a You Tube video that has the lyrics to follow along with that helped me to appreciate the song even more. I especially love when lead singer Eddie Vedder turns to the guitar soloist Mike McCready and says “Make me Cry.” Now that kinda hits you, doesn’t it. Great song whether you can understand him or not.

I work myself down the list of the top ten rock hits and I do recognize at least one tune, “Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon and I have actually heard of Nickleback so I give this one a try. Their latest hit “Burn it to the Ground” is actually the theme song for a Transformers movie, a film that lots of kids are sure to see. So again I check out YouTube and find a version complete with lyrics. What I found was more suitable for a Hells Angels rally or a bunch of wanna be party boys as they load up the frat bus. I guess there is a time and place for everything right. Parents beware.

All of this research made me aware of two things. We need to get out and buy music from artists that we appreciate. You can’t blame a band for so called “selling out” when we are all listening to their stuff for free on YouTube and everywhere else.

Most of all the experience brought back some lyrics to a favorite old song of mine.

So you’re a little bit older and a lot less bolder than you used to be.
So you used to shake ‘em down, now you stop and think about your dignity.

I was not above throwing back a shot myself in the old days and shouting out something like “Let’s hear some Bob Seger.”

Years of being a career mom took precedence over my rock and roll experience and my kids are all adults now and old enough to read this for a good laugh or two. But the line is true.

“Come back baby, rock and roll never forgets.” (I can hear them groaning now.)
                                                               

To Buy or Say Goodbye? That is the Question.

Most women have a common passion, in a word, shoes. No matter what our age, marital status, budget or size, we can always find a pair to perk up our outlooks and raise our spirits. Nothing does it better that a great pair of shoes.

One summer evening, I joined a group of women while wearing a special new pair and I was greeted with sighs of envy.

"Those are positively wicked!" one woman quipped with a sly grin.

"Thank you," I replied, smiling with a glow of satisfaction.

"I just can't wear heels anymore," she added.

Well, that gave me pause for thought! I nearly panicked at the prospect of never wearing heels again. Upon further reflection, I had to admit that I was choosing the flats more and more myself as it became less feasible to navigate through an entire day wearing stilettos. When does the day finally arrive when heels are no longer an option? Is it a gradual thing we work ourselves into, like elastic waistbands? Do we unconsciously navigate to the cushy flats on our shopping trips until our supply of sassy shoes has dwindled and we are left with nothing but the basic black flats that our grandmothers wore.

"To hell with this," I say.

 Still I wonder, at what age does wearing the latest shoe trend look silly?

The answer to this question is the same as in all things. We have to be comfortable with our choices. Whatever we do, we must do with good taste and a sense of style. Perhaps the heel is a little lower than it used to be, but it can still be fun. Flats do not have to be boring.  I love my Roman sandles.

Even so, I do not plan to give up my heels any time soon. I will keep the flats for everyday wear and long walks, but will revel in my higher options for dinner parties and other gatherings where panache is a plus. If it requires a soak in a foot bath and a bandaid or two, it is worth it!
                                                               

Blame it on Barbie!

Those of us turning 50 this year share our birth year with a very special lady. She is on a first name basis with the world and her product line has achieved brand recognition around the globe. We grew up with her, as did our daughters, as will our granddaughters. You guessed it! Barbie!

Barbie first came on the scene in 1959. She came clad in a black and white striped swimsuit and high heels. The following year her boyfriend Ken was created, and the two were an item up until 2004, once of the longest courtships of all time. All little girls love Barbie and some big girls too. Who can resist the cute little shoes in all varieties?

Barbie has created a stir now and then with some discussions concerning her body proportions and the image that she perpetuates with young women. Although there are various opinions as to how her measurements stack up to a full size woman of similar proportions, the dimensions go something like this: 38" bust, 18" waist and 34" hips. Now we are talking some seriously unattainable goals here ladies. Not even Scarlett O'Hara with the strongest corset in Atlanta could achieve this. So if we wonder why our bodies have never has quite matched up with our expectations, blame it on Barbie!
                                                               

Is 50 the new 40?

As I face the final countdown to the big 5-0, I take solace in this popular catch phrase. But is 50 really the new 40? It seems that 50 something women are healthier, happier and some say more attractive than past generations of women at this time in their lives. We are as a group more independent than our mothers and grandmothers at fifty. We do indeed watch our weight and worry about our waistlines a great deal more that generations past. Our lives move faster with technological advances leading the way.

Most of us take stock in ourselves and our lives upon reaching a milestone such at this. We take a look not only at where we have been but where we are going. We ponder what may be missing in our lives while at the same time giving thanks for all that we do have. We evaluate what direction to take as we enter the next phase. Questions we ask ourselves:

Shall I continue on the same path as before or should I choose the path less traveled? What would I change about my life if I could?

To answer these and other questions, please join me.