Chris Matthews

  

     This week MM2 and I took advantage of the wonderful lecture series that Westminster Presbyterian offers and listened to Chris Matthews, host of msnbc's Hardball, talk about politics and his new book, Jack Kennedy: Elusive Hero.  Sure, it was a book hocking tour, but Matthews is a celebrity and the price was good:  free.  The old church was gorgeous with its balconies, red carpet and stained glass windows.

    As a bonus, one of Westminster's choirs serenaded us for 20 minutes with Christmas songs and they were terrific.
     Sometimes when I watch Chris on his show I'm frustrated because he often gets so excited he doesn't let his interviewees finish their points. So a forum where he gets to speak all by himself is a perfect venue for him.  He was fascinating.  He talked about influential political figures he had known and worked for from Jimmy Carter to Ronald Reagan.  He shared some family "secrets" like how his grandma still liked her highballs even though his grandpa didn't drink.  So to keep peace the family would call the highballs they were serving grandma her "tea."  Some other highlights:

• Jackie Kennedy was 12 years younger than Jack.
• Matthews' opinion was that Jack was a womanizer because he was looking for the love he never got from Rose.  I think it's because his father was a philanderer and because all of the Kennedy children yearned for their father's recognition. Jack simply followed in his role model's footsteps.
• They used to call Strom Thurmond "Sperm" Thurmond.  (Thurmond fathered his first legitimate child when he was 68 and had three more after that.)
• Congress had to figure out how to pass Kennedy's Civil Rights bill when the Dixiecrats didn't want anything to do with it.  Matthews compared today's Tea Party with that group and said the Tea Party politicians somehow wrongly think it's weak or bad to compromise.  The problem with both groups is that they are like headless nails:  once they get into Congress, you can't get them out:)
• Jack Kennedy was a true hero.  During the PT109 episode, he actually put a wounded man on his back and swam 4 miles, despite having had back trouble his whole life.
• A true leader is one you don't watch and evaluate like a teacher does with a student.  A leader is someone you automatically want to follow without question.
• Obama's strength is oration, but he needs to do a better job of leading.
• He needs to ask the American people to do something, like we were asked during World War II to grow victory gardens, conserve on products, donate rubber to the cause, etc.

     All in all it was a very inspiring, informative and entertaining speech.  And not once did I hear a pause or an "ahhhh."  He was very fluent and frankly fired out so many good ideas that I felt dizzy.
     The experience was capped with an excellent late lunch at Cravings, a little Woodbury restaurant where we used a Groupon and saved a heap of money.  Oh, and I got to have a holiday Rasberritini at 2:00 in the afternoon.
     This retirement gig is a keeper.

Thanksgiving, Birthday and Cookie Baking

     I've been so busy getting ready for Thanksgiving and Abby and Teddy's homecoming from Boston, that I haven't posted anything.  But I took some pictures:

     This visit was a Thanksgiving, 23rd birthday party and cookie baking combo.  My 86-year-old mom still made the turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy and stuffing as well as her own cranberry sauce cooked from scratch.  Did I mention the pumpkin pie too?  I brought Abby's favorite dessert, chocolate mocha cheesecake, and a new salad I stole from Jan Hall's recipe file.  It had carmelized almonds, greens and lots of other goodies.  The dressing base was lime juice, olive oil and honey.  Our group included Abby and me, my mom and her sister, my two sisters, brother-in-law and one of my nieces.  Oh, and all four of our dogs were in attendance.  One has socialization problems so doggie fisticuffs are always a strong possibility.  Luckily his kennel came with him so while his anxiety level may have been up (his anti-anxiety meds hadn't kicked in yet), ours was in check.
     The same crew minus two of the dogs, one aunt and one sister, showed up at my house the next day for our annual cookie baking session.  We always make sugar cutouts and Mom brings her molasses cookie dough, which we also cut out.  Since diets seem to have taken over our lives, the cookie numbers have declined.  This meant we were finished by 11:00 and had an early lunch.  Mom struggled with the two steps to my house, but she made it and we were all ecstatic that she came yet another year.

     We've been cookie baking together like this since Abby was a baby and I had to juggle cutting out cookies and nursing.  Then the girls grew into toddlerhood.  The sessions grew in length as more sprinkles ended up on the floor than on the cookies, and more guidance was needed.  Through the years boyfriends came too, and the sessions became quite short despite the huge number of cookies because we had so many capable hands.  This year there were no boyfriends and one niece was in Washington, so the group only numbered five.  But the memories are still endless.
     Yes, it's a lot of family and cooking crammed into two days, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Tai Chi for Me?

     One of the monthly meetings I attend is for retired teachers from my school district.  The real draw for me is the good food, of course.  I've never liked sitting through meetings for any reason unless it involves food or money, so this group works for me.  Aside from the requisite meeting and excellent lunch, there's always some form of entertainment.  Since this month's good food involved a full-blown turkey dinner, it made sense that our entertainment was provided by a personal trainer.  She turned out to be a very welcome ending to the load of carbs I'd just downed.
     When I visited China a few years ago, I viewed something that has always stuck with me.  We were walking through a park on an early Beijing morning and came upon a huge group of senior citizens doing tai chi in unison to music.

What I think makes it such an unforgettable memory is that they all looked so calm and at peace as they progresesd through their routine, each movement slow, balanced and artful.  "I want to do that," I thought, and then shelved the idea away forever.

Until last week, that is, when Su Ying, a personal trainer, pilates and tai chi instructor, came to our meeting.

     Since many of us in the turkey-guzzling group were very senior citizens, she gave us some excellent tips on how to stand from a sitting position, how to strengthen necessary muscles that don't get used correctly or enough and how to be safe while engaging in these movements.
     She introduced us to some of the basic tai chi movements, explaining how each helps to improve muscle strength and balance, and as a result helps our core.  She demonstrated a short routine, and once again I was struck by the calmness that seems to accompany this ancient practice.  She was totally in tune with her body and comfortable in her being.  Once again I thought, "I want that."  I've actually written it on my bucket list this time, and intend to look into it. 
     But first I have to figure out why my hip has been hurting more than usual.  I'm hoping it wasn't the tai chi because I really want to be part of a group like this:

I wonder if we get food afterwards.    
   

Mystery on the Walking Path

     While I was on my morning walk not minding the 30 mph winds and near-freezing temps because the sun was out, it started to snow.  It was quite pretty and actually put a smile on my face.  There I was walking in the first snow of the season, temporarily forgetting about all of the leaves that I need to rake.  I don't usually see snow when I'm walking, but I do see this sort of thing:

  

Or this:

Or this:

Today I saw this:

     Very odd, especially since it wasn't on private property.  How did an old boot end up in the middle of a suburban walking path?  Had a dog dragged it there?  Had a hobo made an awkward jump from a train (what train?), and as a result is now wandering around with one boot?  Had someone been looking for the perfect spot to surreptitiously dispose of an unwanted boot and found it?  But then why not the other one too?  Had the woman who lives nearby finally had it with her husband's refusal to get rid of his old boots just tossed one with all of her might, and is she now waiting for a chance to do the same thing with the other?

      These are the metaphysical questions that plague a retiree's soul.

MS

     During my last job I was fortunate to work with a number of dedicated, professional teachers.  One of these teachers, Kathy, was the epitome of what makes a life-changing teacher.  She worked endless hours at school and at home on English lesson plans and correcting papers.  She devoted any leftover time coaching the same kids she taught during the school day.  Every year seniors selected a favorite, respected staff member to deliver the commencement speech at their graduation ceremony.  Of course, Kathy was chosen I believe more than once. 
     Kathy's husband, Dick, also loved working with high school kids and devoted an enormous amount of time helping Kathy coach tennis and Nordic skiing, and after he retired, tutoring kids in math.  Since they never had children of their own, they spent more time than the average parent volunteering.  They loved traveling too, enjoying many trips together and with friends.  If there were any airline bonus points they couldn't use, Kathy would turn them over to me so that I could buy magazines with them for the kids at our high school.
 

Dick retired before Kathy, and both were looking forward to continued travel and volunteering with kids together after Kathy's retirement.  Unfortunately, Dick was diagnosed was mesothelioma which he evidently contracted decades before during a summer college job.  He died not long after the diagnosis.  Around the same time Kathy was told she had multiple sclerosis.  The illness took a quick toll on her body and at Dick's memorial gathering in 2009 she was already in a wheelchair.  It was unbearable seeing this formerly vibrant, bright, energetic, healthy woman so sad and incapacitated.  No words were available to relay the needed comfort.  They just didn't exist.
     I knew that her friends from the English department visited her, but I hadn't yet joined them. When I retired, I was anxious to reconnect with Kathy.  So last week a former colleague and I met her for lunch at Boutwells Landing, the senior assisted living residence in Oak Park Heights where Kathy lives.  The facility was beautiful and even had a Perkins-style dining area.  We ordered our lunches from a staff member, but it felt more like a restaurant with a server waiting on us.  The food was good, and of course Kathy insisted on paying the tab.  After dessert we followed Kathy to her apartment which was very pleasant as well.
     Kathy now can only move her left hand which she uses to control the motorized wheelchair she needs to get around.  She was able to turn her head and speak, both with effort, and could carry on a conversation.  I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse, but while this disease has left her body helpless, it doesn't seem to have affected her mind.  We talked about all the usual things 3 women talk about: kids, families, politics, movies, friends, trips and books.  Kathy told us about two of the other residents also afflicted with MS who had had a successful operation to alleviate some of the symptoms.  One had taken her first steps in twelve years.  This fact brought Kathy to tears because she has undergone the same surgery 3 times with no results.  One of the surgeries helped her right hand for awhile, but the hand ended up to reverting to its pre-surgery state.  She can scoot around her apartment unaided, but has to call someone to get out of her chair for any reason:  to go to the bathroom, take a shower, sit on the couch or sit at her desk.  How does one comfort a friend who faces these unimaginable events?  I still don't have the words.
     Because of her generous and persistent spirit, Kathy has now taken it upon herself to proofread papers for a young Somali man employed by Boutwells who is going to school.  I can only aspire to such generosity.  For now I'm trying to appreciate what I have.  So when I get antsy, bored or ornery for some superficial reason, I try to take a moment to remember how absolutely lucky I am.  After all, my legs are still able to make the trek from that horribly inconvenient parking spot into the store.  My hand can scratch an irritating mosquito bite.  My waist can bend to re-tie shoe laces that have come undone for the 15th time.  My body can get me up from the couch to answer a call from yet another annoying phone solicitor, or get me out of bed before I really want to because the dog has to pee.  It's not easy to remind myself what true inconvenience, annoyance and hardship can be, but I am trying because the old adage is so true:  If you don't have your health, you don't have anything.

Frankie's Still Got It

   The last two days have been fun-filled.  On Wednesday we celebrated Jan's birthday by going over to Deb & Dan's and having a scrumptious dinner.  She served a roast beef from Costco.  It comes in a plastic sack.  You microwave it for 10 minutes and voila, you have roast beef that tastes just like your mom makes, or my mom anyway, with gravy to boot!  It was great.  She also had philly-sour cream mashed potatoes, tequila berry salad, corn and Boston cream pie for dessert.  After dinner we all went to the back yard and sat around a bonfire.  Splendid night.

     Last night, thanks to Dan, we had Savoy pizza and then went to Mystic Lake Casino to see Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.  Frankie is still the original, but the Four Seasons are now 20-something bucks who do a bang up job of harmonizing and dancing behind Frankie.  I've seen him in person before but again was stunned at his height.  Even with Cuban heels, the top of his head barely grazed the chins of the new Seasons. It says online that he's 5' 5", which would make the Seasons about 6' 8".  Not sure I'm buying it.  It's amazing that this tiny 78-year-old man who could have just jumped off the top of a wedding cake can still belt out that wonderful falsetto exactly like he did nearly 50 years ago while barely moving his lips.  He's not too mobile on stage...oh, once in awhile he'll bust a 30 degree bend, or raise his left hand from its comfortable limp-wrist position, but he doesn't need to be too animated.  The boys move enough for three Frankies.  Frankie is the Man.  He's calm.  He's in control.  He oozes class and suavity.  Further, there's practically an entire orchestra behind him and the boys.  It includes a local horn section from whatever town he's playing, his own guitarists, saxophonist, drummer and keyboardist who also happens to be his music director of 33 years.  All of them provide 90 non-stop minutes of hits.  Not just music, but every single song is a big hit we all remember.  No wonder Jersey Boys won a Tony.  The music is timeless.

     The highlight for me, however, of this wonderful evening was when they sang Groovin' recorded by the Young Rascals in 1967.  I was singing along in my mind when Frankie and the boys crooned, "...you and me endlessly....groovin' on a Sunday afternoon."  For 44 years I've thought it was, "...you and me AND LESLIE...groovin' on a Sunday afternoon."  Talk about a revelation.  I've been wondering all of this time who Leslie was and what Leslie had to do with the song.  Was Leslie a fictional character or a real life friend of the lyracist or a band member?  Was there some secret message in the song for Leslie?  No longer do I have to ponder these questions....wait for it......endlessly.

Shingles and Sauerkraut

     I just realized I hadn't blogged (can't believe that's a verb now and I'm using it) for a whole week and thought, "Oh, ya, that's right.  I've been really busy."  So I looked at the calendar to see what I've been doing as I can't readily call these things to mind anymore, and guess what?  Not so much.  Apparently it just feels like I've been overly busy because I'm operating on RP (retired pace) these days.

     I had some friends over for dinner Friday which meant cleaning the house on Wednesday, grocery shopping and cooking on Thursday and finishing cooking on Friday.  There are 3 days right there.  During the 48 hours it took for me to prepare the meal:  sauerkraut & pork chops, garlic beef au jus, chive mashed potatoes, squash, tomatoes with pesto, Thai broccoli slaw salad and chocolate mousse, I was reminded of my childhood.  My mom would work a full day, come home and prepare vegetables, fruit and roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy in a matter of hours.  Oh, I forgot dessert.  There was always dessert.  I now am in awe of her juggling and cooking skills, which doesn't make up for all the years I took her abilities and energy for granted, thinking all moms just did that.  I can't believe what she could accomplish effortlessly in such a short amount of time.  It takes me FOREVER to do anything food related besides eat it.  I repeatedly forget this fact and estimate, "Oh, dinner will be ready by 6:00," when I know that if I think it's going to be 6:00, it's really going to be 6:30.  I did not inherit my mom's ability to coordinate food prep end time.  But I did inherit her ability to enjoy the food!

     Another part of this busy week was spent getting my shingles and flu shots.  If you're 60 or older, I'm told you need a shingles shot.  I've known people who have had shingles and I do not want them.  One go-around with chicken pox was plenty, and since shingles are simply another name for those relentlessly itchy, stinging, nasty little poxes hanging around on your nerve endings just waiting for an opportunity to erupt, I jumped at the chance for a shot.  I had to show up for my appointment 15 minutes early so that I could visit the Allina business office and sign a form promising I'd pay for the shingles vaccination if for some reason my insurance didn't cover it.  Luckily for me, I'm covered, and will NOT be getting shingles thankyouverymuch.

   On the same day I visited the Apple store for a one to one session on why my external hard drive wasn't working when I tried to back up.

     The tech fiddled with it for 45 minutes and decided it was a faulty hard drive.  This made me feel pretty darn good as I thought I was once again in computer idiot mode when I couldn't get it to work.  Unfortunately, the Apple store wouldn't replace it.  I had to phone the hard drive company.  When I called I was told these sorts of issues were handled online.  So I hung up, found the correct spot on the website despite the incorrect directions from the person on the phone and started chatting online with another tech telling her there's no need to go through everything as I had already spent 45 minutes with an expert the day before.  I merely wanted to know how to replace it and make sure the info on the old one was destroyed.  She, of course, wanted to trouble shoot.  "OOOOOKKKKKKK," I sighed gritting my teeth....more wasted time.  So what if I have all the time in the world?  I didn't want to spend it trouble shooting my broken hard drive. I connected the hard drive to my computer, and of course, it worked.  Since I have a 3 year warranty on it, I decided to keep it for awhile to see if it REALLY works.  Maybe the connection was just loose.  And how long did all of that take?  The Apple store trip involved 2 hours and the session with the hard drive company another 1-1/2 hrs.  That's an entire afternoon.  Practically.
    Another day this week I visited a former colleague who has MS and I also attended a wedding where I reconnected with a cousin I hadn't seen for nearly 30 years, but I'm just too busy to write more right now.  I have to eat lunch.