i almost forgot. sorry. guess i better get on it.
But this post is not about bucket lists. It’s just the opposite. I’ve reached the age where I am beginning to concede that there are a number of things that are not attainable for me in this lifetime. So I list them.
Why make such a list? Because it totally takes the pressure off! Weights lift off shoulders when you DeList your Bucket. You still get that great feeling you get when you cross things off lists, even if they weren’t on your list to begin with. And you get more free time! Imagine how much time it would have taken to do those things. That’s now time you saved. That’s time for living!
So here is the beginning of my Bucket DeList. I will add to it as we go forward in these times.
1. Never climbing Mt. Everest. Yeah, that’s right. I’m never going to climb any mountain, let alone the Big One. To tell you the truth, I never had the slightest interest in climbing the world’s tallest peak. When I thought about it, I realized the only reason I could imagine for climbing the mountain would be for the view from the top. So why not cut to the chase and just fly up there in a plane, and see that view from the warm comfort inside a plane.
Even that wasn’t all that attractive a prospect after hearing my dad’s tales flying over the Himilayas as a Hump Pilot in World War II, what with all the running low on fuel and being buffeted about by winds. So maybe the best unbucket approach would be to watch a high def video of the view from the top. Yeah, that works.
I did climb one mountain in my youth because my brother wanted me to and my knees have never been the same. The view was marred by smoke from fires, so I didn’t get all that I expected. I just do not have the mountain climbing gene. I don’t begin to understand why and how there even is a mountain climbing gene. Nature is not meant to be conquered, fools! Deliberately risking fairly certain death for the adrenalin rush is not favored by evolution and it is a really stupid thing to do. Hiring local people to risk their lives to carry your gear is not courageous. It’s fucked up. It’s wrong. It makes you look like rich arrogant assholes. But maybe that’s what you’re going for?
2. Walking across America. Yeah, this sounded fun at one time. I really thought it would be cool to meet a bunch of people along the way and see the land close up and personal. But now I have rather painful arthritis in my right hip. And my back and neck have all these herniated disks so I probably couldn’t really carry my provisions. So I would have to hire local people to carry them for me and that would be fucked up and make me an arrogant asshole. So that’s out.
Maybe when the rains stop I’ll walk to and from work. That might work.
3. Reading the entire Story of Civilization by Will and Ariel Durant. I seriously intended to do this at one point in my life. All 11 volumes. Even got a set. Never read a page. Donated them to charity. Epic fail, no excuse.
4. Relearning the French and Chinese I once knew. Who was I kidding? That part of my brain is toast. Can’t even recall much of the English I use every day. Like in number 2, when I was trying to remember the name of the people who wrote Story of Civilization… I kept thinking Rousseau…no, not Rousseau, Thoreau? No not Theoreau… I had to google “civilization volumes” to get it. Turns out I wasn’t even close.
If I’m that worthless and dangerous in English, imagine how much trouble I could get into in French or Chinese. No more language tapes for me. Besides, nowadays, there’s an app for that!
I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m not sure how to go about it. Please bear with me while I blunder through it.
I knew this already but Blaine’s recent serious illness, hospitalization and recovery brought this right back into focus. My husband, Ric Seaberg, is a such a wonderful husband, father and all around human being. He’s been there through every bit of what was a really hard time these past few weeks. I feel like the luckiest woman on the face of the earth. I wish you could see how he is with Blaine. So patient, so kind, so generous of his time, giving him opportunities he would never otherwise have…Blaine would not be having such a happy and fulfilling life if it weren’t for Ric.
Many of you may have no idea that in his late teens and early 20s, Ric was on his way to become a rock star. I was never fortunate enough to hear his band–Morning Reign–play live back in the day, but I’ve heard records they made and the stories about appearing on the tv show Happening ’68, recording at studios in LA in 1969, and so forth. And I got to see him perform at a reunion of his band for a show last fall and he’s definitely still got it! (Check out him doing a cover of Good Lovin at that gig and you’ll see what I mean!)
Jonathan Nicholas (remember him? where is he now?) once wrote in his Oregonian column that in a kinder and gentler world, Ric would have been a rock star. I think he’s right. He may have even made it in the real world, but the realities of becoming a teen parent sent him in other directions. Where he did great things too!
Fortunately, I get to watch Ric make music now, recording it in his little bedroom digital studio. He’s such a talented songwriter, I swear his lyrics could not be more brilliant. Would you believe he once rhymed garage with maharaj?? And his topics! No one on the planet writes songs about things Ric observes or imagines or makes up. I think his new CD–Consciousness–is his best one ever.
Ric loves his life and has no regrets, but I know there’s a little part of him that wonders, “What if…” I think he sorta kinda wishes he could have a hit song in this lifetime.
So there’s a little thing I’d like to do for Ric, to thank him for all he is and does, especially for Blaine. Just once, I’d like him to experience the feeling of having a hit. But I need your help. Ric’s music is on
I am going to ask you to go to one of those places between now and March 5th and buy something. It can be a song or an album or any combination of whatever you want. If you don’t have even 99 cents to spare, I know it’s a tough time right now, I’d be really happy give you a scholarship if you just let me know!
If you’re going to buy just one song, I recommend “The Blessing and Curse of Consciousness” on the Consciousness album. If you want to buy an album, I recommend Consciousness, then 1000 Songs, then Santa Monica and so forth…
It’s about the numbers. He’ll be able to see a sudden jump in activity and he will be so so excited and happy! He’ll feel on top of the world. And don’t you agree that would be the most wonderful thing for him?
Won’t you please help me pull this off? And can you pretty please pass this on to your friends and family. I want this puppy to go VIRAL!! And seriously, I’m only doing you a favor, because if you haven’t yet discovered Ric’s music yet, you don’t know how much you’re missing and how happy you’ll be to discover it!
Thank you so much for your help, I sure hope this works!!
O.M.G. I just figured something out. Maybe others saw this a long time ago, but it took me this long to finally get this. But it feels important.
So it begins with the admission of something I should be embarrassed about but I’m not because I’m old enough to not be embarrassed by the embarrassing things I do. At least not as much as I once would have been.
I confessed my fascination with Hoarders a while back. Someday I’ll share my thoughts on Honey Boo Boo. Believe me, I have some. And they’re probably not like yours.
But tonight the subject is Bethenny. The very spelling of the word should immediately reveal who I’m talking about, as I’ve never seen anyone else use that particular arrangement of letters for a name.
I first met her on the Real Housewives of New York City, yes, I watch RHNYC. Also Atlanta. Not Orange County, I can’t tell the women apart. Not New Jersey, too much distorted reality. Not Washington D.C., that’s just too many housewives. And now there’s some in Miami??? Shut the front door!
But I digress.
Apparently Bethenny Frankel had already been introduced to a national audience on the Apprentice, the one with Martha Stewart. She lost, which can only be seen as a win because frankly, I don’t think she and Martha would have been worked out. Can you even imagine?!?
I immediately took a liking to Bethenny. Her observations about the other housewives and their antics were just so spot on. Like the time she commented on the behavior of one of the wives who calls herself a countess: “That wasn’t very countess like. That was discountess.” Every sentence that came out of her mouth was so funny, so insightful, so smart. And honest.
I also liked her because her circumstances were not nearly as elevated as the other cast members, who seemed to have no end of riches and designer bags and, well, excess. Bethenny lived in a little apartment, she was struggling financially and romantically.
In other words, she was relatable. Not normal exactly, but weird in the way normal people are weird. And open about her failures, her struggles, her worries. She kind of just laid it all out for the world to see. The genuine article.
Suddenly tonight I figured out why I liked her the moment I met her. It’s because she’s Rhoda. She’s the goddammed 21st century reality tv version of Rhoda. They even kinda look alike!
I’m referring, of course, to the BFF and sidekick of Mary Richards, from the Mary Tyler Moore show. The second fiddle, unlucky in love, call ’em like she saw ’em, funny and brilliant Rhoda Morgenstern.
We all wanted to be Mary Richards, of course. She was the tall, beautiful, willowy, kind-hearted, spunky sweetheart of America. But she was unattainable. We wanted to be her, but we knew we never could be and, in the end, it didn’t really matter, because we could be Rhoda. We WERE Rhoda. And nobody said it out loud, but Rhoda was really a lot more fascinating and fun than Mary. She’s the one we’d like to hang out with drinking one too many glasses of wine. The one who would make us laugh when our hearts were broken by a man once again. She was the natural. She was just herself. Authentic. We women LOVED Rhoda.
Bethenny has left RHNYC and gone on to have more financial success than probably all the other cast members on the show combined (some of whom seem very very jealous, saying silly snarky things like “oh she just copyrighted the word ‘skinny'”, I mean really, do you not know depraved how you sound when you say that??). Soon she’ll have her very own national talk show.
But she presents herself in the same way she always has. I don’t know her, of course, have never met her or had any contact with her. We live on different planets. But I really don’t think the money has changed who she is, nor do I think it will. She still seems very much herself. She can’t help it. She’s a natural.
This week I heard that she and husband Jason have parted ways. I’m sad her search for love has hit another dead end, and I’m surprised but not shocked. Remember Joe? Rhoda and Joe got a divorce too. When that happened, I wanted to reassure Rhoda, give her a hug and say something comforting.
Rhoda, I mean Bethenny, it’s okay. You can still have a wonderful and happy life. It’s a real challenge for some people, uh, I mean some women, to have a forever love relationship. It’s just really really hard in our culture in these times. Let it go for now. Breathe.
We women still LOVE you, Rhoda, I mean Bethenny. Always will.
Most days I don’t feel very smart, or nearly as smart as most of the people around me.
But I have not entirely wasted these 63 years, so I have learned a few things.
Nearly all people have goodness at the core. They are not by nature filled with hate. They did not start out hating people of other colors, religions or creeds.
But humans are prone to being moved by drama that provokes fear. And when exposed on a continuous or even continual basis to thoughts and words designed to make them afraid, they become fearful. And stressed. It eats away at their health, their spirit. And when they feel cornered in a cage, they will do anything to survive.
I don’t listen to talk radio or watch television “news” shows that feature pundits or talking heads. On either side of issues. I believe those “experts” are paid to create drama rather than impart insights, they are playing a cynical game, they are condescending to us all. But somehow enough people are willing to hear and watch this form of made up drama that media companies design programming around it and advertisers pay because they think this audience will buy their wares. Go figure.
But these shows are making us stupid. They are making us mean. They are making us afraid of one another.
Yesterday I saw a clip on hulu of a moment from one of these shows from election night coverage where Mary Matalin called President Barack Obama a “narcissistic sociopath.”
Besides reminding me why I never watch these clown shows, I wondered what I would think of our president if my exposure to him was limited to hearing the voices of people who are paid to shout obscenities and create drama and behave on screen in ways that would embarrass our parents or grandparents.
Let’s start with the fact that “narcissistic sociopath” is a medical condition that only doctors who study for years and treat many patients are permitted to diagnose.
If our words are to mean anything, or we hold any regard for the medical profession and think that training and practice is an important qualification to diagnose illness, then I don’t think it’s okay that a paid talking head lay person can proclaim medical diagnoses. Kind of makes me think they are trying to practice medicine without a license, which I hear is a legal problem.
But of course mainly her words were designed to make people afraid of him. To hate him. To dismiss him. To disrespect him.
Now why would anyone pay her to do that? A civics lesson, perhaps? To educate us? Hardly. She’s being paid to create drama and make audiences thirst for the next chapter. It’s a soap opera, with caricatures in all the roles. For whose benefit? Only those being paid. Follow the money.
But that’s how people talk on these shows, it’s just part of the game, you might be thinking.
That is the game. And we are all being played. And it is dumbing us down and making us disrespectful, mean and afraid of one another.
The 63-year lesson I have learned is this: what we surround ourselves with, the voices we listen to, the hate and fear we expose ourselves to… all that is what we become. Is that what you want to be?
What if we all did?
So where were we? In the kitchen, I think. Still here. Loving every minute. Film at 11.