Tag Living

7 Highly Successful Habits

Michael 12 Comments

I have always hated the seeming simplicity of the seventies self-help series. Truth be told, they were mostly from the 80s but I don’t get to use alteration often, so I fudged it. You know the ones I mean. The One Minute Manager, Seven Habits off Highly Effective Name Your Interest Group, The Four Hour Work Week. Mind you, they were transformative and had, and still have great insights, but taken literally you will be a lousy manager, rather ineffective, and likely out of work.

But I found a simplistic approach to life that really can be done in 7 steps, in a matter of minutes, and have oodles of hours leftover for balancing all the life you want. And I found it on the Internet. On social media even! The seven things one must master to become an adult. It was actually one of those cutesy images and its title was ‘7 Habits Every Child Needs to Learn Before They Move Out.’

I have a feeling that the person who posted it might have been holding tongue somewhat tightly to the inside of check, yet still it is the best expression of satisfied human needs since Mazlov drew his pyramid. It is truly to road map and/or GPS directions to a fully fulfilled human type person, stupendous in its simplicity. Unfortunately, I estimate 99.7% of the people out there never mastered, mayhaps never attempted, Habit #7.

What are these magical machinations fledgling humans should be attempting?

1.        Do your laundry. Okay, this was written as what young adults need to learn before moving out of Mommy’s house, but I tell you I know people who do not do their laundry. Grown up people of both sexes and/or genders still transporting bags of laundry from their apartment to parents’ laundry room. And others who use laundry services. This isn’t New York City I live where apartments may or may not have adequate laundering facilities. This is the ‘burbs where washer/dryer combinations are status symbols. Learn to wash you own clothes.

2.        Cook simple meals. I think most semi-adults can pull this off. It might be three different kinds of eggs but I’m willing to go out in a limb and say we got this one. Frozen pizza does not count.

3.        Manage a budget. I’m quite convinced there are too many folks to count who cannot balance a budget. I’d say balance a checkbook but I’m not sure how many people still use a checkbook. If people were good at managing money, why would we be so concerned about needing an account without overdraft fees? I firmly believe banks have gone way the frack overboard with fees of all sorts, but “As long as the machine still takes my debit card, I still have money,” is not a financial plan.

4.        Keep your place clean. I’m not at all against cleaning services. If you can afford a maid, have at it, but know how to handle the basics.

5.        Know how to make appointments. Again, I think most of us can do this. You gotta have one or two gimmes.

6.        Basic maintenance. Yes, the “Check Engine” light means something. Yes, you too might need to work a plunger, and those lightbulbs are not lifetime regardless of what the package says. I’d say this is another gimme.

But now, here we hit the one thing that I think too many adults who have been on their own for decades still cannot figure out, especially those with part time jobs in Washington, DC.

7.        Take responsibility. Need I say more?

Have a happy week!

What’s in a (Nick)Name

Michael 1 Comment
As we move deeper and deeper into our isolation it’s becoming harder and harder to find an article, post, blog, podcast, phone call (!) that doesn’t reference COVID-19. But I think I’ve finally found something I can write about where the virus isn’t right up there in the first paragraph. Ooops.
 
Anyway… how about death? Actually death notices – you know, obits, necrologies, life tributes, obituaries. I’ve noticed something about them, oh yes I have indeed. And not just that there are getting to be a lot of them out there nor that I haven’t shown up in one yet. I’m seeing that a lot of people don’t seem to know their own name. I’m guessing here.
 
Just recently there have been a lot of obituaries in the paper for people with multiple names. I don’t mean the deceased married woman who is listed with both her married and maiden names. I mean people with 2, sometimes 3 given names. I saw one just this morning (real name changed to protect his guardian angel from being teased by the other guardian angels): Joseph “JB” “Joey,” “Scooter” Brown. Ummmm. Really? Are there people reading the obituaries coming across Joey’s name and aren’t sure if they only saw Joseph listed that they could not be sure if that was the same Joey who was their friend? And those who didn’t know him as anything but Scooter, what are the chances they even know Scooter Who?
 
I saw a lot of them over the past few days, and some pretty colorful monikers too. Stucky, Gar Gar, Dickie Lou, Butch, Baby, Babe, Mac (whose last name did not start Mc or Mac), Birdie, and Stitch to name several more than a few.
 
I remember the gang my father hung out with. Nobody had a real name. Actually they all did but they didn’t Anglicize their names so they used nicknames to make calling them easier. Among them were Bunny, Ninny, Patsy, Mare, Jojo, and Tuner. These were all guys by the way. But the obituary didn’t read John “Bunny” Doe. It was just John Doe and everybody knew that was Bunny. No, multiple choice names weren’t necessary and they still got good send offs. Mostly because everybody knew everybody then and the crowd at the funeral home was already spilling out to the parking lot before the obituary was even published. I can’t imagine the funeral director would even put an order through for Ninny to be printed on the prayer cards. Some of the other names might even make a prayer card spontaneously combust! 
 
I can’t imagine my obituary reading anything but the name I have on my driver’s license. And I’m not so sure about this trend of putting pictures in obituaries either. You look at some of them, “John Doe, 93, died in his sleep after a long, long, long illness,” and there’s a picture of some young guy in full hiking regalia climbing out of a canoe. If it gets to where they insist on a picture then I guess if they’re going to use my driver’s license name they might as well use that picture too. And I already have the plaque for the drawer preordered and that has the name from the check I sent them to pay for the engraving. Just fill in the end date. 
 
Hmm, you know, I wonder what’s on Scooter’s headstone.
 
 
20200430_164951

I Wish I May…

Michael 4 Comments

You’ve seen them. Perhaps a newspaper feature article on a local 100 year old, or a minor celebrity suddenly experiencing the harder side of life after having been diagnosed with an incurable (or even a curable) disease, or maybe even an ad for a home care agency home hospice program. What is it that that you’ve seen or heard or read? That earnest looking and sounding unfortunate soul baring his or her life to the camera, reporter, microphone, or ad agency saying “my one last wish, my most hopeful dream, the one thing I’m most looking forward to, is dying in my own bed. It’s what keeps me going.” Well I’ll tell you right now, if you ever hear me utter such nonsense just shoot me where I stand. Unless I’m standing in my own home, then take me across the street or at least out back first.

How bad does your life have to be that the only thing you’re looking forward to, the one thing you want most out of that life, your biggest dream for yourself, is to be dead. Yes, when you die in your own home you end up dead. Something we all realize we will someday be but something most people would not aspire to, brain-addled suicide bombers notwithstanding.

I don’t know what I want most out of my life. I know what I want out of my life most but those aren’t the same thing. My biggest dream probably depends on what’s annoying me most on a particular day. Too many therapists, too many phone calls, and way behind on sweepstakes entries – I dream of the solitude of an uninhabited (except for me, select guest(s), and a killer bartender) island. Too many healthy meals too many days in a row – pizza from a pizza shop known for as many toppings (please, pineapple is not a pizza topping under any circumstance) as one can humanly get to stay on a pizza crust.

20190713_171826_resized

Not only does “die in my own bed” sound way too dramatic for the average Jo or Joe, it’s quite unfair to those who share that home or are expecting to have it on the real estate market next week. Dying in life (I’m not sure how else to phrase that) isn’t like dying in the movies. Most people don’t smile, say goodbye to the assembled group of friends and family, then nod off just as the last relative passes by. There are noises, smells, and often a lot of movement before and after the fact. There’s cleaning up to do and people to call like in the absence of home hospice, 911. I’d rather have understaffed nursing personnel handle the dirty details or more frankly the cleaning detail, than a loved family member. Of course if you are really annoyed at your family that day, well, who am I to judge?

If someone was to put a gun to my head and say I must come up with my one greatest wish or I’d get it right there I’d probably say to live at least one more day. It seems so much more wish worthy. I wonder if under the same circumstances those with that burning desire to die in their own beds would as calmly as they could, tell the gunman, “So, can you drive me home first?”

Uplyfting Moments

Michael 2 Comments

Today’s Word of the Day at Dictionary.com is JOMO. I admit it, that was a new one for me. FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) I think most of us would recognize. MOJO (okay, usually “mojo” as in a magic power) I think most of us might even claim to have! But JOMO, umm, no, I think a lot of us would scratch our heads at that. But then, what do I know? Maybe I’m the only one who doesn’t know JOMO is the Joy Of Missing Out. The Dictionary people define it as “a feeling of contentment with one’s own pursuits and activities, without worrying over the possibility of missing out on what others may be doing.”

In a Psychology Today article (“JOMO: The Joy of Missing Out,” July 26, 2018) Christine Fuller, MD calls JOMO the “emotionally intelligent antidote to FOMO.” In fact, she subtitles her post with that very phrase. She goes on to say, “JOMO allows us to live life in the slow lane, to appreciate human connections, to be intentional with our time, to practice saying “no,” to give ourselves “tech-free breaks,” and to give us permission to acknowledge where we are and to feel emotions, whether they are positive or negative.” Well now, that I’ll buy. But I have to wonder why she didn’t lead with that instead of that FOMO antidote business. That all sounds pretty positive and you don’t have to have feared something to enjoy a human connection, to be intentional with your time, or to feel an emotion.

I’ve not worked at a meaningful, paying (which aren’t necessarily mutual) job since 2014. And if it wasn’t for an occasional foray back into the medical world but as a patient, I’d be even more bored than I have been. I would have loved to experience some additional human connections than the few I would stumble across and be more intentional with my time other than how long it takes me to complete a morning walk where incidentally I would stumble across most of those few human connections. But the boredom aside, I wasn’t unhappy. I certainly wasn’t afraid I was missing something. We used to call that being comfortable in your own skin. I guess BCYOS doesn’t have the same flare as JOMO.

I bring this up because last month I found new joy and it involves human connections and intent and emotions. But I can’t call it JOMO because the word police would question why I’m laying claim to the antidote if I hadn’t acknowledged the fear.  So let’s just say I picked up some work. The folks who would say I’m not experiencing JOMO would call it a side hustle if I had a main hustle to have something to put beside it. Oh yes, we old timers had a phrase for that also. We called it moonlighting. Some people even were audacious enough to call it “a second job.” Yeah, if you look in an urban dictionary it will tell you a component of a “side hustle” is that the hustle is something the hustler is passionate about but I bet a lot of them are just a way to cover a bill or two. And for me it can’t be a second job without a first one going on. It’s just something to do.

Anyway, to make a long story short (I know, too late) last month I entered the gig economy. Or for my generation, I got a part time job. You may have picked up from the many times I’ve come right out and said it that I used to work in health care, specifically in a hospital, that I used to work in health care, specifically in a hospital. I was good. I actually won awards. But I was not a nurse and not an administrator so that means I have the background and experience that no hospital considers valuable enough to bring back as a part timer or an as needed consultant. So I gave up on peddling 30 years of health care management in the “gig economy” and started driving for Lyft. Seriously. And it’s been a very positive experience. Again seriously.

Hailing

To be honest I think you would have to work really hard to make a “real living” driving for a ride sharing company. Fortunately I’m at a point that I don’t have to make any kind of a living out of it. I just wanted something to do when and where I wanted to do it. And if I make enough for an extra dinner out each month I’d be happy.

Also fortunately I live very close to our main airport, many hotels, and lots of corporate offices. I can take two hours in the morning and never drive more than 10 miles from my front door ferrying business people from hotels to meetings and an occasional drop off at the airport. Ninety percent of the riders I’ve had wear suits, like the jazz I always have on in my car (or at least don’t complain about it), carry on pleasant chit chat (yes, yet another term from back then), and sometimes even tip. Obviously I don’t go out on dialysis days and the day after is a 50/50 proposition, but the few morning a week I get out I stay on the road about two hours and pick up 3 or 4 short rides. And that’s enough for what I want. When I want it.

The company and connection with others has been the most uplifting experience. The use of time to actually do something has been a close second. And the extra $100 a week doesn’t hurt either.

Am I’m joyful because I’m missing out on some part of life? Nope. I’m joyful because I’m taking part in it!

13 Reasons Challenge

Michael 3 Comments

Just about everybody is familiar with the book and TV show “13 Reasons.” Some like it because it brings teenage suicide to light. Some hate it because it celebrates teenage suicide. Some abhor it because it’s just another way to exploit something, anything in the news.

Last week I was trapped in the rabbit hole and came up at a site where a young woman in Australia has taken a completely different direction from the show. In her blog terrymcnude.wordpress.com she says, “Instead of the 13 reasons why Hannah Baker killed herself, (we have to move on from that) and ask ourselves, what are 13 reasons why you’re happy with your life.” She then challenged others to find their 13 Reasons, pass them on, and encourage others to do the same.

While there are so many words being spent every day on all that we’re sure is wrong and unfair in the world, here’s a chance to spend a few on what’s right in yours.

So, I’m going to take that challenge and find the 13 Things that make me most happy and challenge you to do the same and then challenge all those who you share yours with to do likewise – on so on and so on.

13 Things That Make Me Happy.

  1. This is so easy it’s almost cheating. My No. 1 Thing that makes me happy is a daughter who seems to like me, too. Can’t say more than that.
  2. Just as easy is No. 2, having two siblings who are close and caring and never too busy to help with anything, anytime, anywhere.
  3. Having a small but strong group of friends.
  4. A walk in the morning without rain.
  5. Listening to piano-centric jazz. Thank you David Benoit.
  6. Stanley Cup Hockey!
  7. Christmas decorations.
  8. Cooking something without a recipe, sometimes even without a plan, and it actually tastes good.
  9. Spring when I sit outside intending to read but end up staring at the flowers.
  10. Top-down drives in the summer through back country roads.
  11. A good murder – the fictional kind, not one that ends up on the evening news.
  12. Pizza. (I never met a pizza that didn’t make me happy, except one with pineapple maybe).
  13. Being done with dialysis. Maybe someday that might move up in the list when I can actually be done with dialysis. But for now, 3 times a week I’m at my happiest when they pull those needles and they say “That’s it, you’re done for today.”

That’s it, those are mine. Now, are you up to the challenge?

 

And now, the start of the story…

Michael 4 Comments

Let me start right out of the gate and say this post is going to be a little different. Not much humor, useless trivia, or sarcasm in this one. Depending on how long you’ve been following this story you might know that a couple of years ago life was interrupted by a bout with cancer. It seems that for so many today, cancer is just an interruption. Cancer strikes this celebrity, that athlete, or this actor and they recover, return to their former lives with an even greater performance, voice, or achievement.  For me, cancer was maybe more than an interruption. But one thing it was for sure, it was inevitable.

Fifteen years ago I was diagnosed with one of the rarer immune system abnormalities. Not one of the many rheumatoid conditions that today have so many wonderful drugs advertised on TV so you can get back to golf, fancy restaurants, delightful carnivals, volunteer work, or unashamed workouts from high energy spin classes to meditative yoga. Nope, the one I got wasn’t even in researchers’ microscopes looking for a sometime-in-the-future remedy. Treatment for me meant high doses of prednisone and immunosuppressive agents once used in the early fight against cancer. I knew from the start that over several years the treatments themselves could cause problems like renal failure, heart failure, liver failure, or the cancers they were initially developed to treat. I also knew from the start that left untreated, over several months my condition could cause problems like death and dying.

I chose Door Number One.

Then three years ago I found out I had cancer. I knew that I most likely wouldn’t come out of it with an even greater performance, voice, or achievement. For me it wasn’t that one thing I had to overcome. It was just another thing in the yet increasing number of things that had happened, and will continue to happen to me.

Over the years I’ve had so many pieces of me removed, replaced, or rebuilt that I could give Lee Majors a strong run for the Six Million Dollar Man title role.  Over the years it’s gotten harder to say if the latest ache, pain, or procedure is due to the condition or the cure. Last week I spent a day in an outpatient surgery unit having an artery and vein in my right arm tied together to form an entry and exit site necessary for dialysis. It was inevitable and got me thinking about that cancer diagnosis from three years ago.

By then I had already been given about a dozen extra years since choosing Door Number One. In those 12 years I had gotten to see my daughter graduate high school and college and discovered the difference between being a father and being Dad. I had met new people who I would never forget who before I could never have ever imagined. I had earned national recognition in a field that itself is rarely recognized. I had earned about a million dollars, spent about a million and a half, and probably would do it the same way all over again.

The more I think of it, the more I think how lucky I am to have gotten to that cancer diagnosis. I got to hear a doctor tell me that I had a potentially terminal condition long before I had cancer. By the time I heard a doctor tell me “You have cancer,” (though more delicately than that) I had 12 years that I wouldn’t have had if I had chosen the path that didn’t include the possibility that treatment might cause cancer.

I wish everyone who ever has to hear a doctor say “You have cancer,” (hopefully more delicately than that) all the best things that life has in store for you. And although I can’t argue that having cancer is ever one of the best things that life has in store for you, there really are some things worse than having cancer. Sometimes, even not having it can be worse.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Life Needs a Soundtrack

Michael Leave a comment

Do you know a problem with real reality? There are no clues to what’s coming next. Life needs a soundtrack.

Watch any movie or television show, even the so-called “reality” shows, and you see that they all have musical accompaniment. It’s quite clear when someone or something is to be happy, sad, humorous, suspenseful, romantic, mysterious, thrilling, or chilling. Just about the only time the background is silent is when the director intends for extreme drama. Even commercials have background music. Everything from auto insurance to male erectile dysfunction therapy has an associated tune. Why can’t we.

It sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head. Heaven knows there’s enough music up there. I’m always mentally humming a tune, a jingle, a theme. How hard would it be for that to be amplified and spill out around me so I know for sure what mood I’m in – not to mention everyone else who might be in the area?

It’s hard enough to get through a day without being misunderstood. Think of all the relationships that could be saved if there was a full orchestra ready to turn despair to hope, hope to thought, and thought to action. Imagine the peace people could experience if daily routines were spiced up with a bluesy southern anthem or smoothed out by a soft jazz composition. Think of your daily commute to the tune of a driving chorus instead of the tune of blaring horns and mufflers in need of repair.

If you really want to explore this idea, can we consider making life a musical? On second thought, I don’t know if I can handle a sudden eruption of song and dance while standing in line at the deli counter. “You’re the ham that I want. Ooo, ooo, ooo honey,” doesn’t run trippingly off the tongue even if you are looking for that tasty lunchmeat. No, just a soft background perhaps of Dave Matthews Band’s Pig song.

Like I said, it sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

How Live Is It?

Michael 1 Comment

Two years we began the debate between live and artificial trees.  We liked it so well we repeated it last year.  (See “Is It Live or…” Nov. 28, 2011 in Life.) Little did we know there was a third choice.

On last week’s television show “The Shark Tank” a budding entrepreneur presented a business opportunity of renting live, potted Christmas trees.  They are delivered to the tree-wanter a few weeks before Christmas and picked up shortly after the holiday.  It seemed like an interesting idea even if it was available only to California Christmas celebrators and deserved some investigation.  But first, let’s see what we’ve traditionally had available for our holiday arbor traditions … traditionally spoken.

He of We has a couple of artificial trees to spread about his house.  One very large tree runs to the top of the high vaulted ceiling of its chosen room, another shorter one does its thing in the low ceilinged part of the house.  Neither would be mistaken for a live tree, with or without a pot, but they do their thing with gusto and when painstakingly decorated provide the necessary merriment for the season.  The big one looks fairly realistic and for the $300 original price tag it should.  He being frugal bought it after Christmas many years ago and dropped quite a bit less than $100 on it.  His diluted annual investment distributed over 15 years is about five tree dollars per tree year.  She of We has an artificial tree that looks more live than pretend, fills her bay window from top to bottom and side to side, and when decorated with her all glass ornaments looks like a million bucks although her diluted annual tree cost is about the same.

Last week the “live” tree lots around here opened and fresh cut trees (fresh is their word) run from $29 to $59 depending on variety and size.  You could also opt for one sold by one of the local volunteer fire companies and with delivery sometimes included, sometimes extra, but almost always available.  If you think more is better there are even mail order tree farms that will ship you a fresh cut (fresh is their word) for about twice what you would pay if you went to a local lot and strapped your selection to your own car/van/SUV/crossover roof.  Stick with the locals and your annual tree cost after agreeing to a live wreath and some live garland gets to about 85 tree dollars.

There are clearly no shortages of trees for the holidays whether boxed and pre-lit or chopped from somewhere around our neck of the woods for our neck of the woods.  You can even do your own chopping if you like.  Chopping comes at a premium starting at about $50 and then priced extra per foot for trees over 5 feet.  We hear it’s good exercise.  Wreaths, garland, door swags, cider, eggnog, and bandages are extra.

Now let’s get back to these potted living trees that give new meaning to the word live when associated with Christmas trees and December.  He did a quick search on the Internet and found said entrepreneur who is festooning California with potted plants for the holidays.  He also found several others.  Of course since they rely on local delivery and pick up if you aren’t fortunate enough to live in California or Oregon where the tree potters thrive, you’ll miss out on trying to keep a live tree living throughout the season.  Checking out the prices of these living trees he found them somewhere between those on the local lots and the new in the box.  An average price for an average tree seemed to be about $100 with about another $50 to get it to and from.  That clearly is the most expensive yearly outlay for your tree dollars but it’s your holiday bonus and you can spend it however you like.

So the question is no longer “Is It Live,” but “How Live Is It.”  It’s not a bad idea and there are probably more places around the country than just the few that made Internet history.  Now with three choices our warnings from years past still go.  Don‘t be a newscast waiting to happen.  Decorate safely, don’t overload your circuits, and may the only smoke anyone should see on Christmas Eve is that from the stump of the pipe held in Santa’s teeth while encircling his head just like a wreath.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?