Whimsical Observations on Life Archives | Page 3 of 11 | Brad Graber | The Intersect

What Are You Wearing?

Times have certainly changed since the days of our parents. We’ve all become much more casual in our attire. If you don’t believe me, just buy a plane ticket and check out the outfits being paraded. Everything from sweat pants to pajamas. Everyone wants to be comfortable even though the seats are anything but comfortable. Cramped spaces, crowded overheads, and filthy facilities. I guess casual makes sense. But is there a limit to how you might show up in public? Based on what I’m seeing, not really.

Who Cares What You’re Wearing?

Maybe, the only one who truly cares is your mother. Years ago, I joined my parents for dinner at a restaurant in Manhattan. My Mom asked, “Do you think you’ll ever wear a sports coat?” Back then, I didn’t even own a sports coat. Only business suits. And I certainly wasn’t going to wear a suit on the weekend. Today, my business suits are history. I now own a sports coat, but I can’t remember the last time I wore it. To me, a sports coat is reserved for special occasions, like funerals and weddings. But not necessarily in that order.

“Sir, You Can’t Wear Sneakers Here.”

In the mid-1980s, I tried on two separate occasions to have brunch with my family at Windows on the World at the top of the World Trade Center. Each time, I was stopped by a guard before getting on the elevator. Who knew there was a dress code for Sunday brunch? Not me. And now that I think back on it, I’m sad I never got to see the restaurant. Sad, and a little grateful. I’m not sure that particular memory would have served me well considering the horror of 9/11.

Tuxedo

For men, there is nothing more uncomfortable than black-tie. The shirts are stiff and who came up with the bright idea of a cummerbund, a wide belt strapped across a man’s bulging gut? French cuffs and cufflinks are a breeze to get on compared to the bow tie. Somebody, please explain why anyone would want to wear an outfit that requires so much help to get into.

Still…

When you live in Phoenix, most people have access to a pool, and based on what I’ve seen, swimwear is not exactly slim wear. And I’m talking about the images I see of myself reflected in the windows of the backyard. It seems the tighter the bathing suit, the less flattering. The looser the bathing suit, the less flattering. In fact, there are some objects of clothing that’ll never work unless you’re a fitness model. Can you say, Dad bod?

Now, for Something a Little Extra!

In August, we will be participating in a Literary Fiction Giveaway. If you haven’t grabbed a copy of The Intersect, this is your chance for a free ebook. Please take a moment to check it out. And enjoy the rest of August!

Where Are All These Bugs Coming From?

When you grow up in an NYC apartment building, you learn to cope with bugs. There is no other choice. There are bugs everywhere. Oh sure, your mother does her best to plug every conceivable hole, and that works well to keep the mice out. But the bugs? Those sneaky devils can arrive through the pipes. And let’s face it. There is nothing to be done when a large brown water bug chases you into the living room. Those suckers are fast. You better run!

Summer is Here

So, I’m not surprised that living in Phoenix with the summer heat, we have critters fighting to get inside. And who can blame them? I want to be inside too. And though it’s a dry heat (we love saying that in Phoenix), when it’s 110 degrees out, all bets are off. 110 is ungodly hot. Even without humidity. It’s just too much. You can try to explain it away, but unless you’re sitting in your pool, you really can’t be outside. And if you’re outside, well, you lose the right to complain about bugs. Or do you?

Why are Wasps Circling the Pool?

I’m afraid of bees. Come to think of it, I’m afraid of anything that flies. Growing up, we had a parakeet, Twinkie. Sweet little thing. And yes, I was afraid of it. And then, there was Jones Beach on Long Island. Tightly patrolled by seagulls. Eeek. Poop mysteriously drops from above. Some say, “it’s good luck.” I say, “it’s disgusting.” And beware of your lunch. Seagulls are adept at snagging a tuna fish sandwich. Which by the way, might be the worst food to bring to the beach. In the heat, tuna fish really stinks. And on a windy day, the mayo attracts sand particles blowing in the air. You didn’t know that? Well, now you know.

Back to the Pool

So why is it that the wasps (the flying kind, not the acronym) seem to be circling the pool whenever I go swimming? They land on the water, drinking or bathing, or whatever they do, as I frantically swim by, trying not to panic. I’ve told myself that they deserve to have a life too. That the pool should be a welcoming place for all critters large and small. And yet, I just can’t help but think of my mother plugging all the holes in the apartment. How would she solve this problem? Should I check out the latest “outdoor” edition of Hints from Heloise? Will citronella candles do the trick? Where is Dear Abby when you really have a problem?

Now for a Little Something Extra!

This month, we’ll be participating in a Women’s Fiction Give-Away. Take a moment to check out the various books and if you haven’t read After the Fall, here’s your chance to grab a free ebook. Enjoy the rest of July. And watch out for the bugs!

Why Are My Sneakers Squeaking?

I hate going shopping. Just hate it. And so when my toe started to peek through the top of one sneaker, it was time to buy a new pair. And though it seems like a no-brainer, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Because a few years ago, I started to wear orthotics. Those inserted insoles that correct fallen arches. Just when you think you’re indestructible, your arches prove you wrong.

Bye Bye DSW

Buying shoes is such a pain when you wear orthotics. You have to go up in shoe size to accommodate the orthotic. And you have to always remove the insole of whatever shoe you’re looking at to see if your prescribed insole fits. Okay. I get it. This is not a world-shaking crisis. But the days of slipping your foot into any shoe to see if it fits are over. No more buying off the rack at DSW. You must find someplace to sit down and be waited on. And just in case you didn’t know, sitting down and being waited on translates to pricier shoes. Can you say, Nordstrom?

“That’s Not the Shoe Horn Caught in the Back of Your Shoe, Madam. That’s My Finger.”

Years ago, when I was young and fleet of foot (forgive me – I couldn’t resist), I worked as a shoe salesman during summer breaks from college. No offense to the fairer sex, but selling women’s shoes is really tough. Boxes and boxes of shoes were required for every sale. Women are very particular about their shoes. And just because a woman presents in the shoe department, doesn’t mean she’s actually going to buy.

“Yup. That’s A Very Wide Foot.”

Eventually, I switched to selling men’s shoes. Men arrive with a clear mission. They don’t like to shop. And so, they typically buy the first pair of shoes that they try on. If they can get a foot in it, there’s a sale coming. That’s because men will do anything to get out of the store. In fact, if the shoe doesn’t fit, they might consider wearing the box home. Anything to just leave.

“What an Adorable Child.”

Fast forward to grad school. And now I was selling children’s shoes. That was a real fiasco. Children have no idea how a shoe fits. But mom always knows. In fact, mom is the real customer. And moms love deals. So shoes were carefully inspected for any sign of wear and tear. A ten percent discount became the norm. Smart shoppers are the best shoppers.

“Will These Sneakers Go With A Sportcoat?”

Back to my aging sneakers. As it turns out, I wear them every day. In fact, I rarely wear anything else. So the other day, I headed over to Runner’s Den, my local athletic shoe store. No, I’m not a runner. I’m barely a walker. But the sales staff is known for making sure a shoe properly fits your foot. They explain in great detail the design of the shoe. Was I interested? Not really. Still, I appreciated their expertise. But it wasn’t until I arrived home that I noticed the squeaking. What the heck? I paced back and forth. I didn’t hear squeaking in the store?

Is There a Refund Policy for Noisy Sneakers?

Who knows? Of course, I didn’t go back to the store. You didn’t expect me to. So if ever we meet, you should be able to hear me coming. I won’t be sneaking up (though I’m in sneakers). It will be the squeak, squeak, squeak, of a man who has resigned himself to the fact that if the sneakers fit, the sound is okay. Ugh!

Now for Something Extra!

This week, starting on Monday, June 20th, and running through Wednesday, June 29th, we’ll be participating in a BookSweeps contest. Check out the other novels and earn a chance to win an e-reader and an e-copy of Boca by Moonlight. If you love to read, you’ll enjoy checking out the other 50 titles included in the contest. And until we connect again, enjoy the rest of the month of June!

If Only Your Dog Could Talk…

Dogs are special. They have the ability to stare into our eyes, and instinctively, we know exactly what they want. But just imagine if they could actually talk and tell us their deepest, darkest, thoughts. I wonder what those conversations might be like.

“Move Over. You’re Hogging the Bed”

Who hasn’t cuddled up with Fido, only to find your dog pushing you out of the bed with his paws? And dogs can be so warm when they press up against you. I’m always surprised by friends who share their bed with pups weighing in excess of sixty pounds. I can’t imagine how that plays out as Fido jabs a paw into your face. Or your gut. Or pokes you in the butt. It’s got to hurt.

“Your Breath Stinks”

Morning mouth is not unique to your dog. Dog owners also need to brush their teeth. For that matter, you can always tell when your breath has soured. Instead of poking a nose at your butt, your dog heads straight for your mouth. And you think all those kisses are because they love you.

“Haven’t You Had Enough to Eat? Feed Me!”

You and your dog both love to eat. But only one of you is in charge of the food. A few years back, a piece of my dog’s kibble shot across the kitchen counter. I only found it later in the morning. Being a human scavenger, and after a long session at the gym, I picked it up, smelled it, and wondered what it was. Could it be something from my husband’s breakfast cereal? A bit of cracker from an earlier snack? Why did it look so odd? And why, if I wasn’t sure what it was, did I pop it in my mouth? Gasping and coughing once I realized the true nature of the edible, I caught my dog smirking at me. That day we agreed: his food is his, and my food, well, when it falls to the floor, that’s also his.

“Life Is Short. Go For a Walk!”

Your dog always knows when to go out and exercise. Why don’t you? And if I could catch a ball in my mouth, well, that would be amazing. Truth be told, I wasn’t always the greatest athlete. And despite how most fans feel, I’d prefer to see a baseball game behind protective netting, assured that a foul ball won’t come my way. Let others grab for that wayward baseball. I’m too busy covering my head, waiting to be knocked out cold.

“Regularity is a Blessing”

It must be nice to do everything in a timely manner. Even one’s bathroom habits. Envy your dog’s ability to take care of business twice a day. It all seems so spontaneous and healthy. No laxatives. No probiotics. If only…

Something Extra!

And now for something a little extra. This week, Boca by Moonlight will be part of the Jewish Book Council’s introductory session. I will have two minutes on a National Zoom Call to discuss the novel. It’s exciting and a little nerve-racking. In celebration of the event, I’m going to offer a free excerpt. Just click here to check out the novel. Happy reading!

Ten Reasons Why Your Workout May Not Be Working Out!

If you’re like me, you pride yourself on being physically active. But there comes a time when we just have to admit that our efforts may not be producing the desired effect.

Fitness Guru?

Are you kidding? I’m just like you. But recently, I’ve become aware of some interesting trends. Let’s see how many of these you recognize:

Chocolate peanut butter cups are not the ideal snack. Creamy and yummy, for sure, but they won’t help you attain that perfect physique. Unless you’re going for the round look.
In-between meal snacks are not the calorie-burning workout you imagined. True, you must walk to the kitchen (walking is a great way to burn calories). Then, open the refrigerator (thank goodness for strong biceps). You’re engaging jaw muscles as you chew. But there is no “kitchen set-up” at the gym for those of us who enjoy this form of exercise. If there was, I’m certain membership would skyrocket.
It’s far better to zip it (your mouth) than rip it (open a bag of potato chips). And if you must give in to that bag of chips, don’t dip it. That’s where all the calories are. Sour cream dips are especially troublesome. Delicious, but troublesome.
The mirror can be your friend. But you have to face it. And then, you have to look into it. I’m not a fan. Personally, I think mirrors should be covered when we’re nude. Just like in a Jewish house of shiva. Please, show some respect!
Carbs are best eaten when you’re lonely. Or with friends. Or when thinking about challenging family members. In short, carbs are the perfect food group.
Ice cream should never be consumed on an empty stomach. It always tastes better after you’ve overeaten. I think it’s the extra cream in the recipe.
That pain in your abs isn’t from crunches. It’s more likely gas from that spicy Mexican meal you’re still digesting from the previous night. Ole!
Grocery shopping is not a contact sport. Carts are not weapons. Beware the senior who rams your butt. No, they are not sorry. And yes, you did deserve it.
If you must run, make sure you’re being chased. There’s little point in breaking a speed record unless your life is at risk.
Stretching and yoga are terrific if your name is Gumby. Not so much if your name is Brad. Holding your body in an unnatural pose can only result in painful muscle pulls. Ask your chiropractor. Better yet, ask mine.

And Now for A Little Something Extra!

I’m excited that Boca by Moonlight has been so well-received. If you haven’t had a chance to check out the novel, please take a look at the book trailer. And then go ahead and download the free excerpt. The novel will be a 2022 Jewish Book Council selection. And it has won 1st Place in Adult Fiction from the Arizona Chapter of the National Federation of Press Women. Exciting stuff!

Were You Raised in a Barn?

Growing up in NYC, when things got too messy, my mother would accuse us all of being raised in a barn. Which is an odd thing to say since she was in charge of the housework. Still, there are times as an adult when I look around and think, definitely barnyard. Okay. So there are no cows or chickens anywhere. And the only silos are the stacks on my desk. But isn’t that what writers do? Create piles. At least, that’s what I’ve decided. And yes, I’m committed to one day curating each of the stacks into files. One day. But not today. Today, well, to be honest, it’s all just too much. Did I just hear a cow moo?

Why is it so hard to Clean Up?

We all know people who are meticulously organized. We snicker and call them anal-retentive. No one wants to be known as anal-retentive. It sounds like a disease acquired in childhood. Something that happened around toilet training. A period of time most of us can’t remember. Or, we might hear people identify as OCD. As if wiping down the counter with a sponge could ever be obsessive-compulsive. Especially if you’re in the habit of wiping the crumbs from the counter onto the floor. Hmm. I swear I just heard a cow moo.

Why is Everything so Messy?

It just seems that when I worked outside of the house, coming home was a wonderful thing. You could relax. Kick your shoes off. Enjoy the quiet. But now, at home, I notice every dust bunny that floats by. Another good reason not to have tile floors. Living in Phoenix, I just close my eyes and pretend they are tumbleweeds. And lately, I’ve even spotted a layer of dust gathering on the living room furniture. I’m tempted to write my name in it. But if I do, well, I’d have to dust. I think it’s better to just stay out of that room altogether. What you can’t see, can’t hurt you.

Spiders

I’ve spotted a few spider webs gathering in the corner by the windows. It’s wonderful how nature creates its own little cleaning crew for tiny bugs. I’m reminded of the Munsters. That house was always covered in cobwebs. Mockingbird Lane and Lily’s housekeeping left a lot to be desired. Surely it’s time to grab a dustbuster or something and take care of the mess. But then, I have other things to do. What they are, I haven’t quite decided. Ahh, my mother was right. I must have been raised in a barn!

Now for Something a Little Extra!

The reviews are coming in on Boca by Moonlight. And it has just won first place in the Arizona Chapter of the National Federation of Professional Writers at-large communications contest. It’s exciting to see the novel find an appreciative audience. So, if you haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, please give the book trailer a peek. And enjoy the rest of the month of March!

Would Covid Make a Great Dog Name?

February 16, 2022
Brad Graber
Coronavirus, Whimsical Observations on Life

I’ve been wondering, does anyone in the United States (or for that matter anywhere) have Covid as a last name? Is there a Mr. & Mrs. Covid out there? And if so, how has their family managed over the last two years? It would be horrible to have your name associated with a deadly pandemic. Far worse than a devastating hurricane (forgive me Irma, Sandy, and Katrina). And now that the pandemic is on the wane, will Covid pop up as a popular baby name? Or is that just too weird? Personally, I think Covid would make a great name for a dog. There’s a hard C sound to Covid. And dog trainers agree hard sounds work best when training puppies. Close your eyes, and imagine it. I see a Chihuahua named Covid. Or maybe, a Chow. What breed do you see?

Air Travel

Speaking of Covid (yes, I still am), I recently traveled to Mexico. A negative Covid test is required 24-hours before returning to the USA. Was I worried? Sure. I may love Mexican food, but I’d hate to get stuck in Mexico. No matter how wonderful the vacation is, no one wants to be detained in a foreign country. Especially if you’re sick and require medical care.

But I’m Fine – Just Fine

That week in Mexico, I wore a mask everywhere. Except in the pool. That would have been just silly. And I kept my distance from others. Essentially isolated in a resort where isolation was pretty easy because the place was empty. It seems Americans aren’t rushing to Mexico. Oh, we’re there. But not in the same numbers as pre-Covid.

It Can’t Be

And of course, the night before returning to the USA, I had a terrible dream. Even though my Covid test had been negative, for some reason, my boarding pass displayed Covid as my last name. I’d become Brad Graber Covid. “That’s not me,” I shouted in the dream as I was pulled out of the airport line. “I’m not Covid. That’s not who I am!”

Secret Agent?

Hmm. Maybe Covid would make a great last name for a secret agent. Or the mad scientist in a thriller. Mark my words. The name Covid is not going away. And the next time you’re at the dog park and hear someone shouting Covid, just remember I told you so, as the crowd scatters and a toy poodle charges up to its owner who is enthusiastically praising the pup. “Good boy, Covid! Good boy!”

And Now For Something a Little Extra!

If you haven’t checked out my award-winning collection of essays – What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? – you can click here for an excerpt. Have a great rest of the month. And, oh yes. Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you got chocolates!

Is There Such A Thing As A Zoom Wardrobe?

Lately, I’ve been struggling with my shirts. They’re getting a bit snug. Not just around the middle, but the shoulders too. Could it be added Covid weight? Or, has the dryer done its final spin? Either way, I’m torn about getting rid of the shirts. You see, on Zoom the shirts appear to fit. I know because when I’m on Zoom I’m often staring at myself. I don’t want to look. But it’s like coming across a traffic accident. My eyes are just drawn to the crash site.

My Favorite Shirt

I dislike clothes shopping. That makes it hard to part with the regular go-to shirts. You see, I like to wear the same thing over and over (in between washes, of course). I could get more creative. There are other choices in the closet. But change is hard. And even a new shirt might hang around for a few months until I’m comfortable putting it on. And then I have to force myself. Because I’m all about the familiar. It’s just a quirk of mine.

Different Colors

A few years back, I bought a red shirt. Big mistake. Red invites attention. I’ve heard that red cars attract more speeding tickets. And we all know that red is the official color of ambulances and fire trucks. It just takes a special guy to carry off red. Someone young. Someone sexy. Someone with more pep in their step. Someone who just isn’t me.

Zoom

On Zoom, black is my preferred color. Or non-color. And absolutely nothing with stripes or polka dots (does anyone still wear polka dots?). There is a large mixed media piece of art that hangs on the wall directly behind my desk. You can’t miss it on Zoom. The colors are vibrant; orange, red, dark green, aqua, and purple. A black shirt seems to blend best. And though the art looks great on the wall, I’m glad I’m not wearing it.

And Now for Something Extra!

My latest novel, Boca by Moonlight, is now out on Amazon. George, a widower, struggles to come to grips with his life as a single man in Boca Raton, Florida. The novel is a mix of satire, family drama, and mystery. Take a moment to check out the book trailer. If you’ve ever lost a parent or found yourself suddenly immersed in the over-fifty dating scene, please consider adding Boca by Moonlight to your reading list. Until we meet again, all my best to you. Stay healthy. Stay safe!

Why Is It So Difficult to Change the Sheets!

Who needs to belong to a gym when changing the sheets on the bed is so freaking exhausting. How many steps must one travel to complete the mission? Back and forth. Up and down. Certainly more steps if it’s a California King. And all that tugging on the corners to get a fitted sheet in place. Who needs a hike or a yoga class? Not me. I want a comfy chair and a glass of water.

Housework

So how can we keep up with household chores as we age without hiring expensive help? There should be an entire industry built around the notion of self-cleaning. They’ve done it with ovens. And in Norway, they have self-cleaning public toilets. The door locks and the whole thing is blasted with hot water and disinfectant. Not a bad idea to clean a home bathroom. Just imagine. One push of a button and it’s all done.

Home of the Future

To me, the home of the future would be one that requires no effort at all to maintain. Windows and mirrors would glisten. Countertops, shine. No mess anywhere. Every toilet would have a power flush. No more backups. That horrible rubber plunger would be history. Positioned in a museum next to the rotary phone, electric typewriter, and Polaroid Instant Camera. We’d walk by and notice the display and point. Remember that thing? “What was it for?” little children might ask, fear in their eyes. We’d hold them close and shudder. “Never you mind. Some things are best left unspoken.”

Driverless Cars

In ten years, if not sooner, we should be able to buy a car that would take us anywhere we need to go. We can sit comfortably in the backseat while being transported to the grocery store or our next doctor’s appointment. No more concern over rush hour traffic. Or stressing over Google maps. Effortless, carefree, private, and very independent door-to-door service. Lost in Space meets Star Wars. Without having to actually travel on a spaceship. We’d leave that hullabaloo to Jeff Bezos.

Make a Wish

If I had my way, our house would sparkle like a model home. Beautifully decorated with everything in its place. No need to ever straighten up. And the bed would always have fresh linen. Crisp, clean linen. No wrinkles anywhere. It would be a dream come true. My OCD vision of delight!

Now for Something a Little Extra!

A little birdie told me that there’s a new Brad Graber novel coming out soon. Boca by Moonlight will be launching in mid-November. The story of George, a widower who discovers the importance of friendship as he navigates life on the grounds of the very exclusive Boca Raton Resort & Club. In the interim, this week, we’re participating in a Fall Fiction promotion. It’s your chance to grab a free After the Fall ebook and meet over twenty other authors. You just might discover a new favorite! So please, check it out.

Do Good Things Come to Those Who Wait?

I’ve been thinking lately about the advice we collect as we make our way through life. Being a cautious type, I’m always interested in the wisdom of others. Eager to avoid life’s missteps. So here are the top pieces of advice that echo in my head and my spin on them. And yes. I’d love to hear yours.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

I’m all about being patient, but how long should anyone wait to be happy? Loved? Fulfilled? I think good things come to those who get busy. Planning for what they want and taking action. Learning how to move forward and making choices.

If It’s Too Good to Be True…It Probably Is

I grew up in New York City where they sell fake Rolex watches on the street. So you might think I’m savvy. Still, there are times that I’ve been had. Think back to the 1990s and the Bruce Jenner Stair Stepper. It leaked black grease all over the carpet—squealed so loud you’d swear the cat’s tail was stuck in its hinges. I’ve even bought a book of health secrets from a late-night Hugh Downs infomercial. Yes, I can be had. But not very often.

Laugh and the World Laughs With You. Cry, and You Cry Alone

There’s truth in this bit of advice—but I don’t like it. In my opinion, we all spend too much time hiding our feelings. That only divides us. If you’re upset, and I’m your friend, I’m all in. Cry, and I want to hand you a tissue. Let you know that you’re not alone. And if you love to laugh, please invite me to the party. I have a wicked laugh. Trust me, I do.

If Not Now, When?

Just maybe, when I’m good and ready. Sometimes, we push too hard. I find myself in that camp. And I’ve learned it’s best to let some matters rest before reacting. It allows for a more thoughtful approach. And who doesn’t need to be more thoughtful? My hand’s in the air.

Now for Something A Little Extra!

From August 31st to September 6th, we’re participating in an Audible Subscription Give-Away. If you love audiobooks, this should be right up your alley. Please take a moment to check it out. And if you’re already an Audible member, both After the Fall and What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? are available through Audible. I hope you’ll check them out.