Category House and Home

Color my world

Michael 12 Comments

Because the dealership where I bought my car was dumb enough to give me state safety inspection and basic services free for life as long as I own the car, I visit them every 6 months for my oil change. Last week was one of those times. In fact, it was the 43rd time.

While I was waiting for someone to recycle my old oil I wandered about the showroom. It only took a few minutes to nickel something disturbing (to me). Between the showroom and the front line outside there was no color. All the cars were black, gray, silver, and white. In the second line there was one dark blue SUV.

I started paying attention at red lights, in parking lots, up and down the neighborhood streets. Cars have no color. It was not that long ago you could buy red, blue, and green in varieties of shades. Orange, purple, and chartreuse were almost common. It was longer ago but still in our lifetimes that two-toned, multicolored patterns decorated our motorized chariots.

I’m doing my part. I have a red car. It’s actually my third red car. I’ve also had blue, green, gold, tan, brown, and even black, white, and gray. And one the dealer called pewter. I called it another gray. I liked those cars. I can remember those cars because I can associate the color with a particular event or an era. If they had all been back, white, or gray, I’d likely not even remember them.

Car colors and the occasional chrome to excess identified our rides, were extensions of our personalities. They have been replaced by ever higher lift kits and exponentially increasing tire sizes. Oh, and tattoos. Can’t forget the tattoos. Where did we go wrong?

Adding a little adventurous audacity might be what your life needs to jumpstart your enthusiasm engine. What’s the worse that can happen? You’ll figure it out when you read the latest Uplift.

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Name it!

Michael 6 Comments

Name that…

Did you ever wonder where some products get their names? Other than it looks like one, why should a Brillo pad be called a Brillo pad.

I started thinking about these one day in the shower when I took a close look at the shampoo bottle, proudly proclaiming it is made of five vitamins and oils. Oh, so that’s why, I said to myself. And from there I was off and running.

I’m all knowing when it comes to pharmaceutical brands, they being such a big part of my livelihood. There are many stories of drugs being named after researchers’ wife’s and children. Sometimes a glimpse of what they do or don’t do is hidden in the name. The first commercially available benzodiazepine, chlordiazepoxide was noted to not cause a loss of equilibrium at sun-sedation doses and that led Roche to name its brand of the drug, Librium. When they made it more potent and released diazepoxide a few years later, they capitalized on brand recognition of the “ium” ending, and as a nod to its use as a sedative, started it off with the Latin for “good night” and named it Valium.

But what of the thousands of products out there that seem to be related. Are they? I there a connection between Kleenex, Spandex, Tilex, and Pyrex? No, nor among the other 600 trademarked products needing in EX. It just sounds good.

Indeed, the letter X in a brand name is much sought after, as is Y and Z.  Pfizer pharmaceuticals hit the letter trifecta with its brand of the antibiotic linezolid when they branded it Zyvox.

A popular brand name construct is combining letters with numbers, ala 7Up or in the company name 3M. Sometimes it’s just shorthand as with 3M which started as Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing. Sometimes it means something even if nobody knows what as with 7Up. (The most popular theory is that it is from its original 7 ingredients and the bubbles go up.) Sometimes the alphanumeric text means something and all the world (except me) knows it like that shampoo. Figure out what it is? Yep. Alberto VO5, named for the five vitamins and oils in the formula. Now I just have to figure out who the heck this Alberto guy is.

Happiness experts say there is joy in being content with ourselves and not missing out in what others are doing. We say joy is not being happy we are not missing out on some part of life. We are joyful because we are taking part in it! We talked about that in the most recent Uplift post, Fearlessly Joyful.

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Jelly Beans for Olives

Michael 12 Comments

For the last month in two, the weather here has been inconsistent, more warm and dry than cool and rainy (odd), but during that time, the weekends have been beautiful (very odd), except for this past weekend when being outdoors was a requirement of the day (par for the course).

Saturday, I had a meeting out of town, far out of town, requiring driving on interstate highways in the dark, in the rain. Highway drive is tolerable in the dark, tolerable in the rain, knuckle whitening scary in both. Sigh.

Sunday, the daughter and boyfriend ran the Pittsburgh Marathon (half marathon version) in morning rain and chill after weeks and weeks of training on dry pavement under sunny skies. Sigh

Something about this weekend reminded me of another spring weekend I wrote about. It took me a while to find it, but I did and I re-present it here from 7 years ago. If you read it then, humor me and give it another go.

From April 17, 2017, ‘Tis the Season, Spring Edition:

I’m pretty sure I should have been born the son of an Italian wine maker. Or perhaps an olive grower. I could see myself spending Sunday afternoons on a rough stone terrazza nibbling on marinated olives and peppers and artichoke hearts sipping a glass of wine, listening to Old World folk songs and letting the sun warm me where the wine doesn’t. Ahhhhhhhh.

Instead I have jelly beans and a leftover beer I found waaaaay back in the fridge, trying to find a spot somewhere on the 4×8 patio that is out of the wind driven rain storm, hoping the next lightning bolt stays waaaaay on the other side of that hill over there.

BOCThat’s all on me though. I couldn’t pick where I was born but I could have moved if I really wanted to. I chose to stay in the only city in America with less sunshine than Seattle. (That’s what I’ve been told. I didn’t believe it so I looked it up and they were WRONG! That particular proverbially always rain-logged Washington hamlet actually has less sun than my burgh but just barely, coming in at Number Nine of the Top Ten Cloudy Hit Parade with a 57% chance of clouds compared to our 56%. What is the number one least sunny city in the US? Juneau, Alaska. Sorry Land of the Midnight Sun dwellers. Apparently that’s not enough for the midday darkness the rest of the year.) Where was I? Oh, yeah. I stayed.

I chose to stay here where the chance of pressing my own olive oil is somewhere around the chance of me removing my own appendix. Wine making might have a little advantage, but still it’s not likely I’ll be trading in the Miata for an Alpha Romeo and riding it along a strada panoramica overlooking the Baia di Napoli. I’ll just have to keep an eye on the morning forecasts and pick those choice hours when the sun will come out and the top will go down and the drive will be just as scenic. Even if it is of the access road leading to the 27th worst commuter road in the country. And we do better than Seattle there, too. (They have the 8th worst commute. Sorry.

Thank God I don’t have to go to work in either city. More time for olives and wine. Or jelly beans and beer. Happy Spring!

There is always room on the calendar for special days. We found a few extra ways to celebrate everyone among the special days. Check them out on Uplift!

That special day

Michael 15 Comments

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Wait. What? Birthday? Again. Already? Coulda sworn I just had one of them. Just had lots of them.

Some time between the last post and this one, I turned a year older. Seemingly overnight. That always struck me funny at work. Does not matter if your birthday is tomorrow, if you go to the doctor, hospital, or ER today, you’re however many years you last celebrated old.  There is no rounding up in medicine. From an old person’s point of view, that works out pretty well. I often forget how old I am, so not having to remember how old I’ll be, simplifies things.

I mention birthday because since my last birthday I’ve learned a new birthday routine I found pretty nifty. I had forgotten about it until my birthday. I’m wondering if I’m the only one who doesn’t know this.

First, I should mention, I’m not the biggest fan of birthdays. Of my birthdays that is. I love celebrating everyone else’s birthday but mine is not necessarily a date I’ve learned to look forward to. With only a couple exceptions, most of the bad or unpleasant things in my adult life happened on or within a week of my birthday.

Maybe that’s something leftover from a childhood during a time when you were king or queen (or whatever member of the royal court you preferred) of the world, or your world, on your birthday. You grow older and your world takes a backseat to the rest of the world and disappointment soon follows. Maybe because I heaped unrealistic expectations upon it. For whatever reasons, in terms of days to appreciate, even though I am one of the first to expound “every day is special,” my special day not only rarely is, often is anything but.

But, this new little routine could change that. I was talking with a friend and her watch alarm went off. It was an odd time, 11:18. She excused herself and was back in less than a minute ready to continue. “If there is something you need to deal with, I can wait or come back,” I offered.

“No,” she replied. “It’s just my birthday reminder.” I knew her birthday was months away, or months gone by, depending on whether you want to look ahead or look back, and my questioning look must have expressed that thought. She went on to explain.

Her birthday happens to be November 18, 11/18 in American abbreviation. Her watch is set to go off every day at 11:18, and when it does, she takes a minute to thank God for another day.

What a remarkable way to truly celebrate every day. There is something to be said for those who say every day is special and believe it. There is something stronger to be said for those who say every day is special and celebrate it. There is something unique to be said for one who can say everyday is special and then adds the bells and whistles to prove it! I say “the one” because so far, she is the only one I’ve discovered who goes to lengths to remind herself that each day is absolutely, amazingly, beautifully special.

Unless you know of someone who does something so remarkable and would like to remark on that, I think I’ve found the new queen of the world. And all it took was setting an alarm. And yes, I’ve already set mine!

We may not be destined for fame, but it does not mean with are not destined to do great things. We are everyday people doing extraordinary things every day. Our latest UpLift blog post talks about becoming those special everyday people. Please read along with us!

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Artificially yours

Michael 9 Comments

I’m on notice. Me. Mr. Niceguy. The one who follows (almost) all the rules no matter how boring that makes me. Still, I’m the one in trouble.  But… I admit I did what I’ve been accused of. No “not guilty by reason of I said so” plea for me. No, I did it, I got caught, and I’ll tell you and whoever else wants to know, I’m going to do it again! I posted a manipulated picture. And the bad thing about that is, I didn’t say it wasn’t real. Here it is.

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Some of you might recognize this. It is the “cover art” that accompanied the ROAMcare blog post Spring Cleaning. I wanted a picture of a spray of daffodils and a red convertible. As luck would have it, I happened to have in my own photo library two very such pictures, and in years past, I would have spent hours cropping them, removing backgrounds, matching sizes, colors, brightness, and perspectives, then combining them and adding the resulting composite to the placeholder, overlay the text, and finally celebrate the job well done with a bowl of moose tracks ice cream. Instead, I took advantage of a tool at my disposal and told my handy dandy image generator (i.e. AI app), “show a spray of daffodils with a red convertible in the background,” and dished out the ice cream while it thought about this for a while. I knew it wouldn’t be exactly what I wanted but I made up for that with an extra scoop

Some time later, I added that image to our website, the email campaign, and the social media sites, Instagram, Threads, LinkedIn, Facebook, and the one that used to be known as Twitter. And there was the problem child. That last one. The one that doesn’t even have enough confidence in itself to give itself a name, just some generic letter used for centuries as the signature stand-in for the illiterati. It dared to lock the organization account until I could prove we are humans. Thus, I was forced to solve a series of computer-generated puzzles to prove I am myself not computer-generated.

I suppose I will now be counted among the many when the owner of said anonymous site defends his company from claims of spreading questionable if not outright false information by saying “Why in the last month alone we limited access and deterred the activities of 196 billion, and that’s so big it starts with a b billion, users caught red-handed posting AI manipulated photos. We the best there is at not spreading lies. And while we’re at it, the earth is flat and we know smart people who say so!”

And guess what? I did the same thing a week later when I posted a generated image of two geese sitting on eggs in a nest. What can I say. Lock me up!

Every life is a life worth living. Celebrate with us the memory of a man who kept so many very much alive in Staying Alive.

Duh…

Michael 9 Comments

Not much happened last week but of what did, two occasions stand out.  Surely at some time as a child, or to a child, you were told or you said, “You’re old enough that by now know you’d think you should know better than that.” I’ve been saying that a lot lately…to myself. At least twice a week. Like last week.

I can be almost obsessive about putting things where they belong when I come into the house. Hat and coat appropriate to the season on coat tree. Keys in basket on entry table. You get the idea. The proverbial place for everything and everything in a proverb.  Except the day it wasn’t.

Every once in a while, especially if I’m just popping in between errands, I’ll leave my keys in a jacket pocket. And that’s just what I did. On that day, in the morning it was cold, and by early afternoon it was springlike, necessitating a change from a heavier coat to a lighter windbreaker. I ran in, plop the coat onto the tree, put away the groceries I carried in, grabbed the library books I intended to return, pulled the windbreaker off the coat tree, stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind. And then checked to make sure I had my keys. Right.

No problem I’ll hop in the car and stop at my daughter’s house a mere quarter mile away and get her set to my house. Except I didn’t because, yes, that required a key also. It’s only a quarter mile and a walk there and back would be welcome anyway. And at least it wasn’t raining. Until it was.

Last week I spoke at a breakfast meeting. I rarely book anything before noon. (Because, why?) (Except doctor appointments because if you don’t get one of the first appointments of the day they will get backed up and then you are there all day and who cares if you sleep through them. Worst thing that happens is your blood pressure is lower when you’re sleeping.) (Anyway…)

The meeting was nearby and, bonus, it came with breakfast. I knew where I was going. I knew how long it takes to get there. I knew what time I had to be there. Add 30 minutes to the start time (because parking, finding room, networking, caffeinating(!)), double the time it takes to drive (because why not), and I’ll step up to the lectern with my beaming smile and dazzle.

Except I didn’t because getting into the car I managed to snag the side of my pants leg. Rush back inside, change pants, transfer all pocket detritus, check mirror, gag at how poorly it goes with previously chosen sport coat, rummage through closet for more appropriate coat, transfer jacket pocket detritus, check mirror, declare myself presentable, back out to the car.

I lost my cushion time but it’s still only a 15 minute drive and I had my 30 minute early arrival time built in, it would be fine. Until it wasn’t. The 15 minutes delay while I was performing my Superman impression put me on the single lane winding, county road behind a school bus. The first three miles of travel took 20 minutes, with still 7 miles to go assuming no more delays. Like the utility truck up ahead holding traffic back while they cut trees away from the power lines.

To make a long story short (yes, I know, “too late”), I got there with 3 of the 30 early arrival minutes left. I’m not 100% certain but I’m pretty sure the first words I said after being introduced were, “No more morning meetings.” I not 100% certain but I’m pretty sure I said them in my head.

And there you have why last week was not a week I want to repeat any time soon. And that was only 2 days. The others…well, let’s just say I know better than to bring them up.

Do you recycle? Do you know you can recycle yourself? You may be surprised at what you can re-imagine out of the raw material that is you. We were too so we write about it in the latest Uplift!

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There’s no fooling Mother Nature

Michael 13 Comments

We sure pulled off a couple good ones on old Mother Nature these last couple weeks, didn’t we? First, last week we added an extra day to her natural progression around the sun because nobody who was ever important enough (or perhaps self-important enough) to proclaim this is the calendar we are going to use was smart enough to create a usable calendar without readjusting it ever 4 years. And then Saturday night we took an hour away from her because we don’t like when she decided to have sunsets. Well she got back at us for sure.  I din’t know about where you are, but here, after a week of beautiful spring like weather, she gave us torrential downpours on Saturday and snow (snow!!!) on Sunday. Of all the nerve!

The way we willy-nilly our way around physical constants you would think humans are in charge. Ha! You know what we’re in charge of? The universe’s blooper reel! We can start with the clock and calendar. Pick point, any point in space and call it Point A. Now however long it takes for this planet you are sitting on to go around the sun from Point A to Point A is one year. Period. Now… however we want to divide it is up to us. Maybe something like this, 10 months in a year, 10 weeks in a month, 10 days in a week, 10 hours in a day, 10 minutes in an hour, 10 seconds in a minute, and we can make the second as long or as short as we need to make it come out even.  No, after a variety of questionable decisions we finally land on 365.25 days in a year made up of, 12 months in a year, 28, 29, 30, or 31 days in a month, let’s forget about weeks in a month but put 7 days in them, 24 hours in a day except for twice a year when we make one 23 hours and one 25 hours (but make those changes at night so nobody will notice), 60 minutes in an hour, and 60 seconds-ish in a day except on those days we randomly add a “leap second” or two so everything comes out even.

People have a hard enough time dealing with other people, do we really want to pit man against nature? Is it because we know we can’t amicably deal with other humans that we decide we’ll just make up stupid “laws of nature” and that will show everybody else how masterful we are. Guess what? We aren’t! As a species, man is selfish, stupid, and stubborn. People see things right in front of them but claim it didn’t happen. You don’t like the facts? Make up alternate facts. Don’t like what somebody says, make up a catchy insult. Don’t like that it gets dark so early? Push the hours around on the clock.

Nature isn’t like a mousetrap that you can make better. We can argue with each other as much and as long as we want. Chances are, neither side is right. But let the natural order of things go on naturally. Or else, don’t complain when next year there are more hurricanes than last year, that lakes appear and disappear in the dessert, and when eventually the Yellowstone volcano erupts. Until then, be happy you got to wake up this morning. Many didn’t and now what will they do with an extra hour of daylight. (By the way, you know you can get that “extra” hour by just waking up an hour earlier.)

Now, let’s talk about the genius who put 128 ounces in a gallon and said the metric system is too confusing?

It’s time to make a New Year’s resolution. What now? See why we say “Yes, Now!” in latest Uplift!

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Resonating changes

Michael 12 Comments

In the sports world they call it “a stale message.” The coach or manager is a good coach or manager and will continue to be a good coach or manager, but they have been in one place too long, and their message isn’t resonating with the players. They’ve become stale.

My kitchen was stale. It’s a good kitchen and will continue to be a good kitchen, but its message is no longer resonating with me. Err, that is, its layout is no longer resonating with me. It didn’t need a major overhaul. Just a tweak. I’d have liked to have swapped the refrigerator for the baker’s rack and to be honest, had there been more than just me at the time I thought it, I might have suggested going out for a drink after we’d huffed and puffed a major appliance and a freestanding rack loaded with pots, pans, glassware, and for some reason, a bagel slicer across the kitchen floor. But there was no other person, and I don’t drink, alone or in groups, so I kept my reorg (that’s new young adult speak for reorganization) to just countertop appliances.

Allow me a short trip down a short sidetrack. What’s the deal with the 20-somethings (and the 30 and 40-something’s who want to sound 20ish) shortening perfectly good words that don’t take too long to speak nor a genius to spell. Where we old fogies are perfectly content with dealing with our situations, they all have a sitch. (I’m not even sure how to spell that.) and don’t even ask me if I want to “have a convo” when I’m in the mood to converse with someone. Ugh.

Anyway, my kitchen sitch sorely needed a reorg so I had a convo with myself and got to it. Now, I ask you, how much is too much when it comes to kitchen gadgets.  I realized part of the problem with my counter sitch was the number of ladles (lades?) and turners (spats) that I had. And the number was too many, so those got thinned. The coffee brewer and tea kettle and their requisite accompaniments (go-withs?) took up much too much too much counter space, and the herb garden was monopolizing a perfectly good tea cart. I figured (figged?) if I could harness these three areas, I’d be much happier and believe me, a happier me is easier to live with, and as one who lives alone, believe me, that is crucial! (croosh?)

Well, to make a long story short (and you’re saying why couldn’t I have decided to do that two paragraphs ago), after several attempts I came up with an arrangement I can be happy with. (No, it wasn’t the same one I started with!) Oddly enough, my tea paraphernalia was much too much for the tea cart which then became a perfect spot for a coffee station. And now my kitchen is resonating again!

But just to be sure about things, if you should happen to stop by and visit, don’t be surprised if I ask if you’d like to move a refrigerator. Or at least have a convo about it.

Few times in life do moments of self-care become gifts for others. In this week’s Uplift we talk about how we take the things we enjoy doing and try to add joy to the lives of others with them.

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Brain Drain

Michael 5 Comments

I cleaned out my refrigerator last week and that reminded me that I haven’t cleaned out my brain in a while.

We might as while start at the refrigerator. Is there anybody else in the world who has as many condiments in their refrigerator as I do? Perhaps not so many condiments as condiment containers. Every time I get having just a little in the bottle, instead of fighting with it to get the last drop or just chucking whatever is left down the drain so I can recycle the container, I use the leftovers to make a sauce or my own condiment. Except I never label anything so weeks later I’m left wondering is that bottle the vinaigrette or plain old mustard, and which ketchup bottle is really barbecue sauce. This is why I now have a Sharpee tied to the refrigerator door! Someday I’ll remember to use it.

That just reminded me, sometime last summer, during picnic season when condiments are often on sale, over on the ROAMcare site, we posted, “Life is Like Condiments,” which was a really fun post to write. This isn’t a part of my brain dump but it popped into my head so I thought I’d pop it into yours. You should pop over and read it.

Also last week, my furnace stopped furnacing (which, by the way, spellcheck accepts as a real word – who knew?). Perhaps that’s why I decided to clean the refrigerator. I was already cold, why not go all in! Fortunately last week was full of spring like weather and it was only a day waiting on the part, so I simply supplemented what heat the house held on to with a trusty space heater during the evening hours when the sun stopped streaming through the windows. I’ll often have a space heater running under my desk to keep the toes warm and think nothing of it, but last week I worried greatly for those 3 or 4 hours, what this will do to my electric bill. For some reason, my mind flashed on an old standup bit from the 80s. I can’t recall who the comedian was, someone who often included his family into his routines, like Ray Romano or Jeff Foxworthy. The bit was about leaving the doors open in the summer and air-conditioning the whole neighborhood. “I went out and saw those dials spinning on the meter like a roulette wheel. Somebody please turn something off!!” he shouted, and it just cracked me up. The random things that randomly pop into my head.

Sometime after we crossed into February I noticed the gym is not as crowded as it was in January. Did everyone’s resolutions reach their expiration dates???

Also last week (a lot happened last week), a friend of mine asked if I decided where I will be going on vacation this year. On the surface it seems a reasonable question, except that it came out sounding as though I go somewhere every year. Perhaps once upon a time I would have made an annual trek to somewhere from home, but for the last dozen or so years, there are more that I have gone nowhere than anywhere, and when I had, it often was without planning. I would decide I want to go somewhere, find a good fare to transport me and a decent hotel to lodge me and off I’d go. Naturally though, now that she planted the seed, I felt the need to water it, so my browser history is now filled with vacation spots near and far. And I just know I’ll end up on my patio all summer.

Well, my brain feels much lighter now. Thank you for your patience!

Not always are life’s lessons found in expected settings. Sometimes we discover more behavior we would do well to imitate in unusual learning places. We write about two of these and turning our actions into life assets in this week’s Uplift, Actions Matter.

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I’m so bored

Michael 11 Comments

Yesterday, at our weekly Dad and Daughter get together, Daughter mentioned to Dad, “The problem with kids today is they don’t appreciate boredom. They don’t know how creative that time can be. I used to stand in the line at the grocery store waiting for you to check out reading the headlines on the magazines thinking I can write a better line than that.”

Wise words from a 30-something, and yes, she did end up writing better lines than those come-on headlines, now running her own copywriting business. And it all started because when she was parked in the seat of a shopping cart during the weekly grocery runs instead of staying home with her child’s-app-loaded iPad in heavy duty protective case. It was after she dropped her adult appreciated iPad that she spouted this wisdom, noting the colorful protective covers sold to minimize damage to the children’s themed tablets would certainly have inflicted more damage than a mere week’s long bruise that her lightly protected covered unit inflicted upon her toe. And thus, we were off on to an hour’s long discussion of the things your mind can do when it seemingly is doing nothing, and of which we are robbed because parents would rather perpetually occupy their children’s time with electronic babysitters rather than risk answering a question like, “What’s that word?” several times while waiting to unload their haul onto the conveyor belt for the cashier to total the bounty.

We decided that although creatives intentionally turn their brains on when they write, or paint, or film, the ideas that lead to those compositions are often born from idleness. Filling up every moment of a mind’s time is actually a great way to suppress moments of mental creativity and might have led to the loss of some of the world’s greatest creative works.

When are you at your creative best? Something to think about the next time your child or grandchild or strange child looks to you and asks, “What’s that?” and how you choose to answer.

Valentine’s Day was celebrated by lovers around the world last week. We celebrate love for everyone everyday. Read about why we say All We Need is Love in the latest Uplift!

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