Whimsical Observations on Life

Why Travel to Europe When You Can Just As Easily Take A Drive?

When I sat down to write this week’s blog, I kept thinking about how I’d like to travel overseas. Now for those who don’t know me, I’ve never been adventurous. Even as a kid, I disliked change, unless it was on the ground waiting to be picked up. A new restaurant? Will they have what I like? A new hotel? Will I be able to figure out how to turn on the shower? So, when it comes to traveling abroad, I can be downright crabby. I hate flying through the night. Who can get any sleep? And I’m not a fan of jet lag. It plays nasty tricks with one’s inner workings. Enough said.

A Change of Heart

But recently, I’ve found myself itching to be anywhere. Anywhere, but home. Especially troubling, when there is nowhere else to be. Don’t get me wrong. Our house is nice. I shouldn’t complain. But after a time, who wants to be sitting home? It really isn’t very interesting. How many closets can your reorganize? Heck no—I haven’t been doing that—but what else is there to do? Even television is boring. There is only so much of The Nanny that I can take (yes—it’s true—I have my limits on reruns). And more and more of the content on Netflix seems suspiciously British. Am I the only one who wonders why everyone is talking with an English accent? I guess I’m just growing impatient to be out and about, exercising the old hindquarters. And until the heat breaks in Phoenix (55 days so far of over 110-degree heat), we’re locked in. Trapped.

Arizona Great Outdoors

All this pent up demand has resulted in road trips. Own a car? You’re all set. Recently, we headed up to Bearazona (cute name) where you drive through an enclosed encampment of wild black bears. Considering the heat, and their heavy black coats, the bears were fairly incapacitated. And frankly, that’s how I like it. No one wants to have a 300-lb animal chasing after the car. Nature can be truly wonderful only at a safe distance. Another weekday, we did a driving tour through the Phoenix Zoo. Not much to see in the heat, but every now and then we had a glimpse of an exotic bird. Or was it a pigeon? Oh, just close your eyes and imagine. We’ve also checked out a number of Arizona’s abandoned ghost towns. To our disappointment, most were overrun by tourists. I bet the ghosts are pretty fed up with all the traffic.

Home Sweet Home

But if you are home, may I recommend a jigsaw puzzle? If you’re not insane yet, this will do the trick. There’s one on my dining room table right now. It’s supposed to be a picture of a car. At least, that’s the photograph on the box. Me? I’m not sure how all those tiny pieces will ever come together to create a car. You could say, the jigsaw puzzle is driving me crazy. Which these days, is not a very long road trip.

Added Bonus

And now, something a little special. If you love audiobooks, check out a free sample from After the Fall. The novel is available on iTunes and Audible. And remember to stay safe. Your health is precious and so are you!

 

Why Are Giant Blueberries Flying Around the Backyard?

Growing up in New York City, you learn to cope with pigeons, mice, and waterbugs. Mostly, you run in the opposite direction. Some people have even been known to scream. Loudly. And yet, nature can be a wonderous thrill. Who doesn’t love a hike in the great outdoors? Until you come upon a “Beware of Bears” sign. That’s when some of us are easily persuaded to stay off the trail.

Home?

Now in Phoenix, we’re currently suffering through triple-digit temperatures. There’s very little outdoor activity during the day except for the occasional dip in the pool. And even that is time-limited. Thirty minutes outside is tops for the old eyeballs in the peak of the heat. After that, they burn. So, we’re forced to enjoy nature from inside our air-conditioned quarters.

Nature Abounds

Two hummingbirds live on our property and love our hummingbird feeder. At times, it feels like we rent from them. A few months back, one flew in the house seeking a shortcut to the backyard. Fortunately, we have tall glass sliders. We just opened those doors and our intruder found its way back outside. I’ve since learned to keep the doors closed at all times. After all, we’re not running a bird sanctuary. Or are we?

Nests

We have a large tree out front which is perfect for nesting birds. There’s a lot dropping out of that tree and I don’t mean leaves. I’ve used binoculars to spy on the activities, excited to see nesting doves. And though I’ve been tempted, I’ve yet to turn my binoculars on the neighbors. What would be the point? It’s hot out. Everyone has their curtains closed. Not that I noticed.

Insects

Carpenter Bees float like giant blueberries in the backyard. Wasps, like tiny helicopters, glide down to drink from the pool. We have our seasonal ducks. Sometimes behaving in shocking ways. One year, two males and a female were mating outback. We of course diverted our eyes though it was hard to miss the ruckus.

Predators

And I guess the menagerie wouldn’t be complete without giant owls. We’ve spotted one on our driveway at night. And lately, a neighbor’s cat has been wandering the property. I’m praying that the cat doesn’t run into the owl. I’ve never owned a cat, but I don’t think I’d let it roam outside. But then, I’m a scaredy-cat.

Animal Planet

During stressful times, I’ve learned that nature can provide a welcome distraction. A lesson not lost on a former New Yorker. Even if you’re just looking out the window.

Added Bonus

This month What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? will be part of a Funny Books promotion. After the Fall will be participating in a Young Adult Coming of Age promotion running from August 4th through the 11th. If you get a chance, please take a moment to check out these promotions. And please stay safe. Your health is so very important.

The Kitchen Is Closed!

I’ve been thinking a lot about my Mom lately. It isn’t a special anniversary or a birthday month. And it isn’t that Mom recently passed. She’s been gone since 1990. But my thoughts keep drifting back to her. The effort she put into our family. And how she prepared us to take care of ourselves.

I Don’t Want to Make the Salad!

My Mom worked a full-time job when I was growing up.  That made me a latch key kid.  And because Mom worked in Manhattan, she had an hour-long commute. That commute began with a ten-minute walk up a hill to reach the bus that took her to the subway. In New York City, that’s called a two-fare zone. For Mom, it meant thirty minutes on a bus and another thirty minutes on a subway to get to Manhattan.

Other Errands Too?

On occasion, I helped out. Nothing major. Setting the table. Defrosting a steak in the sink. Over time, it transitioned to making a salad. Throwing a load in a washing machine. Going to the grocery store. All the things little boys don’t want to do and don’t want to be seen doing. Mom needed help and since she was important, I obliged.

Some Skills Are Worth Knowing

Given time, I became a fairly domesticated kid. So when I went off to college, I knew how to take care of myself. And though I still hate to do the laundry, I can do it. Though in our house, Jeff’s the laundry guy. He’s better at stain removal. It seems we spill a lot. And he likes doing it. Trust me. Send your laundry here. You’ll make him very happy.

Not the Kitchen

As for cooking, I remain the go-to-guy. Do I like it? Nope. Can I do it? Sure. And, over the last few months, I’ve prepared a variety of dishes. I’ve even baked a cake or two. If anything, social distancing has enhanced my kitchen skills. I guess practice makes perfect. Without a restaurant to go to, I’m kind of stuck. Would I prefer to eat out? You bet. But until we can do that safely, I’m in that kitchen twice a day making lunch and dinner. For breakfast, you’re on your own. Except on Sunday. That’s when my Dad made pancakes. I try to keep that tradition alive.

Childhood Memories

How did my Mom prepare all those meals for all those years and not go insane? It defies the imagination. And so this whole lockdown experience gives me a new respect for mothers. Each night, as we clear the table and load the dishwasher, I hear my Mom’s voice cry out. Tired from a long day at the office, eager to relax, she’d tell the family, “The kitchen is closed!” I totally get that sentiment. Amen, Mom. Amen.

And Now For Something Extra

In honor of Pride Month, check out the ebooks being offered from June 15th through June 22nd as part of a Pride Freebie Promotion. If you haven’t read The Intersect, this is your chance to download a copy. Just click on this hyperlink.

In addition, I’m participating in a Satirical Humor Promotion from June 17th through June 30th with What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? Check out the promotion by clicking on this hyperlink. 

Stay safe and healthy!

Q is for Quarantine and Questions. Lots of Questions.

Like everyone these days, Jeff and I have been locked in our house for nearly nine weeks. And like any married couple, we’ve had a few tense moments. Through it, we’ve learned a lot about who we are. Okay. Mostly, who I am. And it seems that I am a person who is full of questions. Lots of questions. Which can be asked in any order throughout the day, over and over again. Here are the top four contenders.

Where Are You?

I don’t like people who lurk around corners. And since I’m hard of hearing, Jeff pops up at the darndest times. I’m always surprised. He often says “I live here, too!” and I guess he does. But I still think it might be a good idea to tie a bell around his neck. And then, when things are too quiet and I want to share a bit of news, I have to hunt him down. Is he in the bathroom? Why isn’t the door shut? On a zoom call for business? How was I supposed to know? Outside in triple-digit heat watering the plants? Have at it. I’ll talk to you later.

What’s That Noise?

I like to know what’s going on in my world. So when random sounds invade the peace, I’m always curious. Has Jeff fallen? Did he drop his coffee cup? Is it the air conditioner turning off and on? Or is that the refrigerator humming? I’m learning a lot about the noises in our house. Especially the ones coming from the office next door.

What Are You Doing?

My mother used to say: “If you’re bored, you’re boring.” Unfortunately, I’ve been bored a lot. So, I’m always interested in what Jeff is doing. It certainly beats what I’m doing (struggling to write a third novel, doing a crossword puzzle, checking out Facebook and Twitter).  Jeff’s a news junky, loves to read People, and is fascinated by retail (his whole family is). Me? Not so much. Still, I like to be in the know.

Are You Okay?

The last and final question. This one pops up a lot. Especially when we’re binging on This is Us. Each episode demands a box of Kleenex. I call it heartbreakingly satisfying programming. I love that all your questions about the Pearson family will eventually be answered if you continue to watch episode after episode. Generation after generation. Heartbreak after heartbreak. Sigh. What a wonderful show!

And Now Some News

If you love audiobooks, After the Fall is now available through Audible. In addition, After the Fall will be participating in a group promotion for LGBT Audiobooks running from 5/27-6/3. Please take a moment to check it out.

Yes…I’m Afraid of Eggshells

Everyone has their phobias. Some people are afraid of spiders. In Arizona, we have Tarantulas. Big, black, and furry. You can see them from a distance, which is where I stand when I see one. And yes, I’ve seen a Tarantula. In Jerome, one of Arizona’s historic towns, I spotted a Tarantula crossing the road (I know—that sounds like a set up for a gag). God only knows where the Tarantula was heading. I didn’t follow it. Now friends tell me, you needn’t travel far in Arizona to see a Tarantula. I say, talk like that makes folks want to move to Florida!

Eggshells

Not many people claim a fear of eggshells. But then, I’m not most people. Truth be told, this fear makes me worry over hardboiled eggs. I’m so concerned, that egg salad has been banned from our kitchen unless I personally handle the deshelling. Why you might ask, am I so distrusting? It could be because of my upbringing. The fact is, my mother couldn’t break an egg if her life depended on it. There always seemed to be an eggshell somewhere. Instead of calling her Mom, we should have changed her name to Shelly.

Fish Bones

Another pet peeve of mine is fish bones. No one wants to bite into a lovely piece of fish and discover a fishbone in their mouth. You could choke if you accidentally swallow it. But, it’s also considered indelicate during a meal to use one’s fingers to retrieve the bone. Instead, I grab my throat and make a loud, wretching noise. Others look away in horror. That’s when I spit the offending bone onto the plate. Problem solved!

Doomsday Clock

Certainly, there are more frightening things in life than Tarantulas, eggshells, and fishbones. I recently read that the World’s Doomsday Clock is now 100 seconds to midnight. Where’s Rod Serling when you need him? Which reminds me. With time running out, have you had a chance to read my novels The Intersect and After the Fall? It’s never too late you know. Until it is. Happy reading!

 

What Do Your Art Choices Say About You?

The other day, I was sitting at my desk contemplating the wall scenery. That’s what you do when you’re stumped, hoping some brilliant plot point emerges so that you can finish up the new novel you’ve been working on for months. As I looked about, it occurred to me that artwork can reveal a lot about your personality. I suppose that makes sense. After all, I chose all the pieces in my office. But, had I considered what others might think when they looked at my walls? Did I realize that I was revealing a great deal about myself to the astute viewer? And more importantly, was I in touch with the meaning of those pieces and how they reflected my mindset?

Calling Dr. Freud

So let’s see. I have a collection of silent movie posters. Colorful and bold even though all those pictures were shot in black and white. Hmm. Am I someone who is fighting his own nature? A guy who is shy but able to evoke an outgoing personality when pressed? And am I struggling to find my voice much like those silent films? Maybe.

Little Mouse

I love Stuart Dunkel’s whimsical pieces. Especially when a mouse (our kindly hero) sneaks donuts and candy. I think that imagery is clear. The little guy always wins in the end. Yes, he does! At least on my wall.

Joan & Clark

Another corner of the room displays an MGM poster from Strange Cargo, a 1940 film starring Joan Crawford and Clark Gable. It’s an odd jungle movie about escaped prisoners, survival, with a strong nod to the importance of God in our lives. I know. That doesn’t sound like Joan’s typical fair. No glamour. No shoulder pads. Nonetheless, Gable still wants to wallop her—the big gorilla (but he never does; that would be crossing the line). It’s a romantic adventure in the least romantic of settings. And a damn good film. I’ve watched it a few times. Each time, I see something new. Like that faith-based God message. A real surprise for a Crawford/Gable film.

Collage

Behind the sofa, there’s a large oil of mixed media. I’m not sure what this piece says about me. Perhaps, I’m complicated. Another interpretation: I’m really messed up.

Oh, the Games We Play

So the next time you visit someone’s home, glance about and try to determine what the artwork is communicating about your host. I think it might be an interesting exercise. If it’s an Elvis painted on velvet, well, you know you’re in the company of people with excellent taste. I particularly like the one that glows in the dark!

Now It’s Your Turn

So, take a few moments and share with me how your favorite piece of artwork reflects your personality. Just comment below. I can’t wait to see the response.

 

The Dentist Is Stalking Me

My dentist has a huge crush on me. That must be the reason why he keeps leaving me all of these messages. A week before my appointment, the texts start arriving. I confirm, but like any eager suitor, he telephones me at home. Another reminder arrives by email. Don’t forget. Two days later, another can’t wait to see you. The day before, one final reminder. Is it time for a restraining order?

It’s Not Easy Being The Object of So Much Desire

I can’t remember ever being so ardently pursued. I know I’m kind of dental hot. My credit score is great. I pay my bills in full at the time of service. I happily sign all the paperwork they put in front of me. And I’m dental compliant. Some might even say obsessed with dental hygiene. I have a floss bag stuffed with dental floss, picks, and gum probes. All sorts of oral gadgets including a vibrating Hummingbird. That bag goes with me wherever I travel. It comes out every night as I watch television. While others are snacking on sweets, I’m probing and prodding away. It’s an oral lovefest.

Is It Overkill?

After years of cavities and root canals, two of my wisdom teeth had to be removed when I turned 50. Talk about major dental surgery. Well, I’d just about had enough. And so instead of going to the dentist twice a year, I now go three times a year so that I can monitor the lifespan of every tooth. My goal: get to the graveyard with a full set of gleaming white teeth.

And Still the Phone Rings

If love comes but once in a lifetime, I guess it’s okay to be pursued by your dentist. They’ll never give you flowers or take you to dinner. And they certainly won’t buy you chocolates. Heck, I can buy those myself. Maybe I’m lucky to have captured the interest of my own dental professional. Someone who wears a face mask and gloves whenever I open my mouth wide. Someone who truly values my oral health. How can you ever go wrong being aggressively pursued by your dentist? Isn’t a minty fresh smile and great breath worth it? I think so.

 

Is It Time to Stop Saying, “I’m Just Saying”?

We’ve had a lot of discussion in our house lately about the phrase I’m just saying. To be honest, I’ve come to use it quite a bit when something I’ve uttered hasn’t landed well. Believe it or not, that happens now and then. Sometimes more often than I care to admit. I’m just saying becomes the awkward default. The three words that you can toss out to try and save the day. Lessen the blow. Ease the tension.

So Why Use It At All?

Which of course has gotten me to thinking. Why would I even say I’m just saying? It’s already obvious that I’m the one speaking. Do I really think adding an I’m just saying will make everything magically alright? I must. At least based on how often I use it.

Top Reasons?

So what are the top reasons for employing this pesky phrase?

  1. To give the illusion of not being too vested in what I just said. Though of course, I am. Otherwise, why would I have even said it?
  2. To try to present as being flexible. Translation: I’m open to further discussion on the matter. Reality: Good luck getting me to change my mind.
  3. To fill that awkward silence when someone stares back in disbelief about what I’ve uttered. Perhaps an apology might be a better choice, but then, I’d have to humble myself and admit a mistake. Now there’s a challenge!
  4. To explain away that awful rant after someone has cut me off in traffic. No, I don’t really want them to rot in hell. Even if they failed to use their turn signal.

Own It

I believe it’s important to think before we speak. To remember that words can hurt. But when all else fails, a simple I’m just saying might lessen the blow. After all, it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from it’s my opinion and it’s very true. I’m just saying.

 

It’s All A Matter of Perspective

The other morning, I was following the posted signs to drop Jeff off at the airport for an early flight. “No, no,” he said pointing toward the up ramp. “You want departures. Not arrivals.” With a quick turn of the wheel, I followed the departure signs, startled by my near error. Which leads me to wonder why a sign that is posted for the benefit of the driver is written from the perspective of the traveler.

Not So Easily Understood

After all these years of traveling, you’d think I’d know better. It must be a mental block. But it got me thinking about the way we experience the English language. For instance, we park our car in the driveway. Driveway? And we drive along the Parkway? Which of course brings to mind the restroom. I don’t think that’s really what’s going on in there. Or how about that sidewalk. I don’t know about you, but I walk one foot in front of the other.

How Literal Can I Get?

Very literal. So there is no apple in a pineapple. Nor is there an egg in eggplant. Hamburgers don’t usually contain ham. Unless it’s that fancy burger with a slice of pineapple—hold the apple. Which gives me pause about the English muffin and French toast. What’s that about? If you know, please don’t tell me. I fear it would be too confusing.

Burns & Allen

Which brings me to the famous Vaudevillians, George Burns & Gracie Allen. They were masters of highlighting the subtle confusion generated by a well-placed inconsistency. Here’s a sample of one of their bits which kind of tickles the funny bone.

Gracie says to George, “You know I have a niece with three feet.”

George says, “What?”

Gracie says, “Well, I just got a letter from my aunt Sara. She said I wouldn’t recognize little Mary, since the last time you saw her she’s grown another foot.”

Back to the Airport

So I guess it’s all a matter of perspective. How you experience the world is based on how you interpret the signs around you. I for one, believe that road signs are there for my benefit. Silly me.

 

 

 

Rings Reveal the Truth of Our Relationship

Recently, a stranger in a crowded airport elevator turned to Jeff and me and asked whether we were brothers. Really? We look nothing alike. Instead of answering, we both held up our ring fingers. The gentleman seemed surprised. He uttered something or other, and though he didn’t say much, I could sense the judgment. Not that we were a same-sex couple, but that he really thought we looked alike. Huh?

Smothers Brothers

Of course, this made me think of all the wonderful brother teams out there. The Jonas Brothers. The Hemsworths. The Three Stooges. Wait! They weren’t all brothers. Curly, Moe, and Shemp were. Larry wasn’t. The fabulous Marx brothers. Groucho, Zeppo, Chico, and Harpo. Karl, despite rumors to the contrary, was not part of their act.

To Be Fair, We Share Certain Traits

Jeff and I are fairly close in age and height. Though he’s a year younger. He’d want me to point that out. We’re both Jewish, though neither of us ever seems to remember when it’s Passover. We’re both white men. Yet in the summer, Jeff tans easily, so I’m a lot whiter. But let’s face it. Brothers don’t always look alike. Neither of us particularly looks like our brother. So maybe that wasn’t what the stranger was picking up on.

Standing in Each Other’s Shadow

Years ago, an older man pulled me aside at a GLBTQ fundraiser. He’d seen us from a distance, earlier in the week. “You two young men are standing way too close,” he counseled. “Walking in each other’s space.” He was warning us to be careful. More circumspect. That it’s dangerous to be so out in the world. A light bulb went off.

That’s It!

I finally understood why Jeff and I were constantly tripping over each other. Stepping on the other’s toes. Cutting each other off in mid-path. Since then, we’ve tried to be more mindful of our personal space. Not to stand so darn close. Not to lean into each other. And yet, we continue to bump shoulders and trip. I guess some habits are hard to break. And though we’re not keen on public displays of affection, it’s nice to know that we remain physically connected. After all, proximity to the one you love is a wonderful thing. Even if you have to elbow them, now and then,  to move over.

Now for the Good News

After the Fall has been named a Finalist in the Indie Forewords Book of the Year Award. And just the other day we heard that After the Fall will be awarded a 2019 Indie Discovery Book Award. The formal announcement will come in June. So if you haven’t yet grabbed a copy, now’s the time to reach for that next summer read. https://amzn.to/2vQqDOT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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