fortune cookies

Trick or Treat: Step Away from the Candy Bowl!

With Halloween just around the corner, this is the time of year when we make that dreaded purchase. Candy. Lots of candy. It’s on special everywhere. Bags and bags. Gooey, chewy, crunchy, stick to your dental work, stuff.  And each year, we try to pick candy that we don’t like. This is hard to do. For each year, we’re reminded that there isn’t much that we actually dislike.

Chocolate vs. Marshmellow

In our house, there are two teams. Chocolate Lovers (me) and Marshmellow Mavens (Jeff). This, of course, means that any candy including either ingredient is out of the running for Halloween.  Our philosophy: don’t bring into the house anything that either of us might like to snack on. Standing in front of the candy aisle at the supermarket, we can be overheard having this exact discussion. Small children have been known to shun us.

But Candy is Everywhere

When I go to the bank (notice – I didn’t say the ATM), there is a huge stash of candy to pick through as you wait in line.  I think this significantly improves customer service. Especially when I see Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. God outdid himself the day he prompted H.B. Reese to resign from Hershey and create a new candy company. Combining chocolate and peanut butter is pure genius!

Back to the Supermarket

And so the challenge is once again before us. What should we buy that we won’t eat? In the past, we’ve opted for Butterfingers. Nestle describes the candy as a crunchy peanut butter core covered in chocolate. Sounds delicious. But there is something about the dry texture which bothers me. Plus, it gets all caught up in your teeth like toffee or taffy. Dentists must love it.

But Are We Being Fair to the Little Children?

After all, Halloween is about the kids. Shouldn’t we be giving out candy that we think the little tykes will love? Candy that is truly delicious? M&M’s Plain and Peanut. Milky Ways. Snickers. What can be the harm in buying those wonderful treats?

We All Deserve a Little Halloween Fun

So this year, things will be different. Instead of buying the candy we like the least, we’re going to purchase the candy we love the best. And then, we’ll try to remember to turn on the outside porch lights on October 31st. And no matter how loud the television is blasting, we’ll listen for the doorbell. Heck, we might even stay in that night instead of going to a movie. Who knows? Trick or treat – and the best of the evening to you and yours – and all the little children.

 

Trauma And Humor: A Bad Combination

Trauma and Humor: A Bad Combination

If you follow me on Facebook, then you might have guessed there would be an upcoming blog about the passing of our sweet poodle, Charlie. He would have been 15 years old in December, which is a good run for any dog. He’d been sick the last 2 1/2 years with congestive heart disease, and though Jeff and I were aware that time was running out, the shock of his passing was still overwhelming.

Oh, No. Your Not Going to Talk About It?

Yes. Just a bit. Bear with me.

Our First Dog

In 2002, I was out of town on business when Jeff put Woody, our wire-hair fox terrier, to sleep. And even though it was many years ago, I remember being relieved that I didn’t have to make the decision. Poor Jeff had to do it alone. And to be honest, I didn’t understand the pain of the experience. I wasn’t in the room that day. I didn’t hold Woody as he took his last breath. It was easy to separate from the experience. Easy for me to make ridiculous jokes in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood. After all, that’s what I do. When things get uncomfortable, I joke. It’s my coping strategy.

And Now This Week

We opted for in-home euthanasia after the vet told us that Charlie needed daily doses of fluids under the skin. We were familiar with the procedure. We’d given fluids to our first dog for over six months. Woody never seemed to mind. He always sat calmly through it and then immediately perked up. But Charlie was not about to do the same. He’d had enough. I could see it in his eyes. We were scaring him and he was tired. Too many pills and too much poking.

It Was Time

And so Jeff and I decided together and our vet agreed. We opted for an in-home visit, thinking it would be easier for Charlie. But there is no such thing as easier. I’m still haunted by the surprised look in Charlie’s eyes when he was poked in the rear by the first needle. The drug that provided the calming euphoria. And then the look when he received the last shot. And those final breaths.

Apologies Are Due

There are times in life when we create discord in our relationships without really understanding how. I did that by not appreciating the extent of the trauma Jeff suffered when he put Woody to sleep. I understand that pain now. Sometimes, we need to go through an experience to grasp the enormity of its impact. I wish that wasn’t true. And for that, I am sorry. Jeff deserved better.

Word Tiles

What’s in a Word?

The other day, I was watching an old movie and it occurred to me that there are so many words that are no longer in vogue. For instance, pocketbook. No one uses that word anymore. My grandmother did, but then she’s been gone since 1972. Or valise. When was the last time anyone packed a valise? Valises are now the exclusive property of Goodwill and resale shops. Some have even been refurbished and used as stylized decor in high-end retail settings such as Manhattan’s ABC Home Furnishings at 881 Broadway. If you haven’t been there, it’s worth the trip. It’s like stepping back in time. Everything old is new again. Especially the way the merchandise is displayed. During my last visit a few years back, they had rows of restored school lockers. Nostalgia alone tempted me to nearly make a purchase.

Darling, Hold Me Close!

And when was the last time someone uttered those words? Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis? It sure isn’t happening in my house. Darling seems to have gone the way of Post Toasties, Now Voyager, and Tallulah Bankhead. We’ve become a society of babe, sweetie, and dear. Now, I  admit, I like the sound of darling. It’s romantic. And there is nothing wrong with romance. Come to think of it, I’d prefer my darlings to be whispered in the dark and behind closed doors. I know. That’s highly unlikely. So in the interim, honey will just have to do.

The Chiropodist Has A Mistress?

A chiropodist was once the professional name for a podiatrist. Today, you won’t find a shingle boasting the services of a chiropodist. Too bad. Chiropodist is such an interesting word. It has a  musical quality. I imagine happy toes, wiggling with excitement. And talking about excitement, does a rich married guy still have a mistress? I think the sexual revolution and the women’s movement have done away with that classification. And to be fair, when was the last time anyone was called a gigolo? I’m drawing a blank.

Partner?

Which brings me to the term partner. In my novel, After the Fall, there is a misunderstanding between Harry, a guy in his mid-50s, and Barney, a teenager, when the word partner is invoked. For the older character, the term partner is a substitute for a gay spouse. For the teenager, it sounds like two fellows in business together. I have to admit, even as a married man, I sometimes default to the word partner. Old habits die hard while new words take practice. I guess it really is all about being comfortable with change. Harry and I seem to share that struggle. But I’m working on it. And I guess that’s really all we can ask of ourselves. By the way, if you haven’t met my husband Jeff, he’s a helluva guy!

Dog Face

Ten More Tips For A Happy LIfe

A few months back, I wrote a blog about being happy. Now for those of you who personally know me, that might come as a surprise. I don’t put out that kind of energy. I’m not a happy-go-lucky type of guy. I’m more of a worrier. Like Dave in my debut novel. The Intersect, I tend to live in the land of regret. Always looking backward and wondering if I’ve made the right choices.

Glass Half Full?

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’ve never experienced happiness. I have. But I think the problem may be my expectation of what happiness feels like. For instance, on a good day, when everything is clicking, I feel calm and relaxed. No—I’m not smiling from ear to ear—running around giving hugs—laughing wildly. Instead, there is a sense that I’m on the right path. I experience happiness as an inner satisfaction. Nothing to fret about today? Ahh. Good day. Me happy.

So How Do I keep My Spirits Up?

It takes work. And mostly, I try to remember:

  1. There’s humor to be had in everything we do. Look for the funny side. And if something strikes your funny bone, share it. Laughter is contagious. It attracts people to you. Just like a good cologne.
  2. Don’t be afraid to show emotion. People feel closer to you when they experience you as real. And yes, crying is necessary. Tears are healing. But be judicious. The cashier at the “10 items or less” line at the supermarket has only so much time to listen to your woes. Trust me. I know from personal experience.
  3. Be more like Fred Astaire. Dance when you’re alone. It lifts your spirits. Even if you’re as clumsy as an ox, it’s a great way to cheer yourself up as well as entertain the dog.
  4. Mirrors are best enjoyed when you make silly faces. So go ahead and make a face. Then think about which member of your family you look like. I can make the same faces as my late grandfather. It’s always nice to see him staring back at me.
  5. Laugh lines enhance your natural good looks. At the very least, they add character. So let them be.
  6. Exercise is invigorating. Until it isn’t. Allow your body time to heal before you blow out your knee —hip—elbow—lower back—Achilles tendon.
  7. If you don’t like the way you look, stop looking at yourself. Turn your gaze to someone you love and enjoy the view.
  8. Writing a letter can be therapeutic. Seeing a trained therapist is far more effective. What we pay for tends to hold greater value.
  9. Loving yourself may be the most important lesson of all. But acting like the center of the universe, well, no one likes that.

And now…

Something for the soul. Tip #10. You become what you focus on. Years ago, I decided to become a writer and I kept that dream firmly in mind. You too can be and do anything you want. It’s all within your reach. Well, not immediately—but with persistence. So, if you don’t like what’s going on in your life, choose again. Anything is possible.

Film Movie Violence

Why Is There So Much Movie Violence?

It’s a perfectly lovely summer day in Phoenix and I’ve just returned from the movies where we go to retreat from the heat once we’ve dried off from our dip in the pool. But today, I feel rattled, unnerved, unsettled. We’ve just seen a supposed comedy masquerading as an action picture. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a wuss. It’s amazing what they can create on film with special effects. The Titanic sinking. New York City flooded. San Francisco imploding. I get it. They’re spectacles for sure. But what is it with all the violence? Human beings being mowed down in a bloody shooting spree. Body parts chopped off, flying through the air. The continuous violence goes on and on. And that’s just the previews.

The Three Stooges

When I was growing up, violence was limited to The Three Stooges. Three knuckleheads who couldn’t stop hitting each other. Yes, we laughed. Pies in the face, okay. Punches to the gut, poking at the eyes, followed by a hammer to someone’s head? Looking back, I wonder why more kids didn’t kill their siblings using The Three Stooges as a defense. But Moe whacked Curley with an iron skillet. Larry never cried when his head was slammed into the wall. Moe seemed fine after he fell out the window.  

I Know the Violence Isn’t Real

Back then, it all seemed innocent. It was done for comic relief. But today, the violence feels intensely real. There’s nothing comedic about it.  Your body tenses up. It’s like being on a thrill ride, except it goes on and on. Am I in the minority on this? Surely Hollywood isn’t in the business of making movies no one wants to see. They’re merely feeding the box office. Or are they?

Is Our Society Out of Control?

Anyone who wants to get all revved up can just turn to the news or social media to quicken their heartbeat. When I go to the movies, I’d prefer to escape. A love story would be nice. A romcom to make me laugh and remember how wonderful falling in love can be. Maybe, a movie that sparks the intellect. How about a thoughtful biography? Or a tale of friendship? Honestly, I’m already exhausted from the rancor that is our daily diet in America. I’d like to give my fight or flight response a rest. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t most Americans?

 

 

Book

If You’re A Baby Boomer, Does Anyone Still Want to Hear Your Opinion?

Back in the 1980s, I attended a seminar at the University of Michigan. It was an insightful week. We learned about market research, market analysis, and how to create a marketing plan. But the most powerful message wasn’t about the tools. It was about the Baby Boomers. The people who had the purchasing power. And the message was clear. Young people spend money. Lots of money. Which is why advertisers create messages skewered to a younger audience.

Baby Boomers

That once youthful market of Baby Boomers (26% of the United States population), is now well beyond middle-age. Each day, 10,000 Boomers turn 65. 65!  Now, it’s true that you can still be a youthful 60-something. You can exercise regularly, be sharp-witted, and read voraciously. And you can look fabulous. But there is no way you can really consider yourself young. Well, you can, but you might be the only one.

Silence is Golden

Now, I like being older. Maybe because when I was younger, things didn’t always go so well. There were lots of personal challenges to work through. Troubling times that inspired insecurity and doubt. Oh, I still have those moments. I’m sure we all do. But at least now, I understand such feelings are momentary. If age offers wisdom—we learn that not every misstep in life is a calamity. Age helps put that lesson into perspective.

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Fireworks

Oh, But How I’ve Missed You!

Pop the champagne! Sound the bugles. I’m back. There, I Said It! is once again up and running after a few weeks of hiatus. Did I run out of things to say? Was I hobbled by a broken finger, unable to type? Did my agile mind have a momentary slip? No. Not at all. But I did launch a new novel and let me just say, it was a bit distracting.

A New Novel?

Hopefully, by now you’ve heard about the new novel, After the Fall, and maybe, even seen the book trailer. Yes, I know. It’s a very common title. If you go on Amazon, there are pages and pages of similarly named books. But fortunately, there is only one Brad Graber, the author. And that is the easiest way to find the novel. Just type my name in the Amazon search box. But if you’re still stuck, you can always go to my website at bradgraber.com and click the “order now” button by the novel’s cover. It will take you directly to my Amazon page. Or, if you prefer, you can buy the novel online through Barnes & Noble or the Apple Store for iBooks.  There are lots of options.

How Did I Come Up with the Story? 

There’s always a seed of truth. Something that triggers the creation of the novel. For instance, before I wrote The Intersect, Jeff and I had talked about leaving Phoenix so that I could pursue other job opportunities. When we decided to stay, and I opted for early retirement, it occurred to me that such a scenario might lead to tension in a relationship. So, I created Dave and Charlie and just stood back while they cascaded. I also was missing my mother. Ding dong—is that the front door? Oh hello, Daisy. Combine that beginning with my interest in elder abuse, undocumented immigration, and teen homelessness, and we’re off and running. So that’s kind of a snapshot of how the creative process works for me.

Relationships

By now, you probably know that I like to write about people, relationships, and the cultural and political climate. I’m less concerned about a specific age group than I am about how we react in different situations. It’s kind of like the ABC show, “What Would You Do?”. I’m fascinated by the choices we make, which is how I come up with the twists and turns for each story. That’s what sparks my imagination, and hopefully, if I do a decent job, you’re in on the fun.

A Great Summer Read!

So a big thank you for kindly supporting this second novel. And just in case you haven’t purchased your copy of After the Fall, here is the book trailer. Check it out.

Aging Dog

Lessons I’ve Learned from My Dog About Aging

Every morning at 6:00 a.m., Charlie, our miniature apricot poodle, stands up on the bed and does a brisk shake. It’s time to get up and walk the neighborhood. And even though I sometimes want to stay in bed longer, I’ve come to understand that my dog has a lot to share about growing older. He’s already half-way through his fourteenth year, and so, he knows about aging. I only need to pay a bit of attention to incorporate the lessons.

Keep Moving

Charlie walks best in the cool morning hours. And though he might be stiff with the first few steps, he moves amazingly well once he gets going. Walking remains an important part of his day even though he might stumble on an occasional curb. But he doesn’t give up.

Adapt to Your Limitations

There was a time when Charlie insisted on playing ball every morning. He’d leap and spin, barking and growling enthusiastically. He still plays, but it’s limited to one or two tugs on a dog toy. The joy remains though the activity level is diminished. He indulges in life within the context of his abilities.

If this Bush Doesn’t Work Out—Find Another

Charlie seeks out the best information the neighborhood has to offer. He carefully selects where to make his mark and when to leave his scent. Life is all about choices. Charlie knows the excitement of life is often found at the next bush.

Not Every Meal Needs to be Devoured

There was a time when Charlie ate his meals with gusto. Those days are over. He now eats with a lot of encouragement. Sitting next to him on the floor has become the routine. Often, we hand feed the first few bites to get him going. Sometimes, we even skip a meal because he’s just not interested.

Love Can be Expressed in Many Ways

Pleasure is all about eye contact. When you’re in Charlie’s company, he’s memorizing every detail of your face. In bed at night, Charlie is a regular hot water bottle. He enjoys looking into our eyes as he gets his nighttime scratch. Then, he plants himself next to you and doesn’t move much until the early morning hours.

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Doctor Appointment

How Would You Rate Your Doctor?

 

This week, the 2018 Top Doctors of Phoenix arrived in the mail. Double the thickness of the regular Phoenix Magazine—this sumptuous, four-color special edition is a healthcare bonanza. Every healthcare company in the metropolitan area seems to have paid for advertising space. Insurers, hospitals, private practices, urgent care centers. An impressive compendium of smiling professionals eager to schedule your next appointment.

Top Doctors?

So how do they select the top doctors? The answer—by surveying other doctors. In essence, physicians complete forms indicating whom they believe to be the best physicians. Then, the magazine confirms that each of the recommended physicians is board certified. Finally, names are cross-referenced against the state’s records to confirm that there hasn’t been any disciplinary action in the last 5 years. Hmm.

Surveys? Board-Certified? Disciplinary Action?

During the course of my career, I don’t recall many physicians being interested in completing surveys. For one, their time is absorbed by seeing patients. Physician offices are chaotic, busy places. The focus is mostly on the management of the physician’s schedule—making sure that patients are being seen in a timely fashion. Board certification? Well, it sounds great—but it’s really the standard. Hospitals only affiliate with board-certified doctors or those young physicians on their way to board-certification. The same is true for insurance companies. And as for disciplinary action, a physician has to do some fairly outrageous stuff before they find themselves in that quandary. This certainly has nothing to do with ensuring quality.

So How Do You Measure Quality?

Let’s take orthopedic surgery. If you need a knee replacement, you should know how many knees that physician does each year. You should be concerned about the infection rate, readmissions to the hospital, and even the mortality rate. Those statistics offer real insight into a physician’s quality of care.

Electronic Medical Records

In the age of EMRs, that is exactly the kind of data that is sourced. Healthcare and insurance executives have access to it so that they can effectively manage reimbursement from the Federal Government. But to the consumer, such data remains proprietary. So, until quality data is readily available, instead of looking through a magazine, you’re probably better off asking your trusted primary care physician for a referral to a specialist. And as for the magazine? Well, it still looks good on the coffee table.

Hourglass

The Game of Life: What’s Your Score?

There’s been a strange turn in our local newspaper, the Arizona Republic. Let me explain. They’ve recently relocated the obituaries to the back of the sports section. Yes, that’s right. You can now check game scores while you peruse the passing of your neighbors. How convenient!

Smile for the camera

The redesign of the obits started weeks ago. First, they enlarged the photographs. I get it. You want to see the face of your loved one. But most of the photographs aren’t professionally shot. The enhanced size looks grainy. And as we older folks know, it’s hard to capture a flattering photograph. We need proper lighting and a bit of photoshopping. Aunt Gert looks as if she was caught by surprise. Uncle Milton seems to be in the middle of chewing. So why, for heaven’s sake (I had to throw that in), make the photograph larger?

The whole thing has got me thinking (uh oh)

By placing the obits in the sports section, is the Arizona Republic confirming that life is but a game and there are winners and losers? Is your age at the time of death the ultimate score? If you’ve reached 80, 90, or 100—have you officially won—making death the eternal booby prize? Or, are the winners determined by the length of the obituary and the scads of relatives who adored you (though they never came to visit)? Does your obit dominate the page, attracting the most attention? And if you’re dead, does any of this truly matter?

I guess winner is a relative term

Few obits seem to provide the most interesting highlights from a life well-lived. I’m not referring to the marriages or the children or even the jobs held. Those are facts. Our lives are shaped by our challenges, hardships, and lessons learned. If you were a parent, what tips can you pass on about raising children? If you were a caretaker for an elderly parent, how did you sustain your enthusiasm? If you succeeded in business, what secrets did you learn about working with people? Just imagine what a terrific read that might be. To capture a snapshot of the living, breathing, thinking human being—and not just some vital statistics.

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