WHY I DON'T PROCRASTINATE (MUCH)

My husband loves the expression “Anything worth doing is worth doing well”.  He thinks it is a credo of meticulous effort toward a pristine result.  Due in part to the fact that it takes my husband FOREVER to finish a project, I think it is the subtitle of “The Procrastinator’s Handbook”.  Ha.   But I dismiss it mostly because I, who to the outside observer might appear a little uptight and controlling, have actually been half-assin’ it since 1967, to steal a friend’s motto.  Half–assing is my natural state of being and truly the only way I can multi-task with any success. 

Fortunately, I am not a brain surgeon and don’t have much come up in my life that requires precision (like being a Rockette) so my half-assed efforts produce quite passable results on many, many tasks.  And occasionally a good job, when the mood hits.  But I am never at the mall Christmas Eve or stressing a last minute birthday gift or turning underwear inside out to re-wear because as a result of the relative ease of my half-assed efforts, I am generally speaking ahead of the curve.  And that is just where I like to be.

I think this may all go back to my status as the quintessential middle child.  Not the oldest or the youngest or (in the case of my family) the only boy, I didn’t really have a role assigned to me to play.  I was what I think they call in office-speak “a floater”—the one who kind of goes from job to job and shift to shift within a company as need demands.  I had no true alliances with my siblings—they all had their defined places and would pass me around as their circumstances demanded. 

I was my little sister’s protector…unless she and my brother were ganging up on me.  I was my oldest sister’s baby…unless she was busy and then I was the older one who “should know better”.  Because there was no clear path and I never knew ahead of time what my “assignment” for the day would be, I had to learn how to play both ends against the middle and be flexible enough to jump from role to role without transition time.  So in order to do all of this and keep my head above water, I started half-assin’ it.  And it just kind of stuck.

Now, that part of my personality that causes others to think I am uptight and controlling is the other piece of my successful life as a non-procrastinator:  I think anything worth doing is worth doing yesterday.  In Arnold Lobel’s brilliant series of children’s books Frog and Toad Are Friends, there is a great tale called “Tomorrow” in which Toad refuses to get out of bed to do his many chores, insisting he’ll do all of them tomorrow.  Until he realizes that by putting them off he is now absolutely dreading the next day.  That’s how I am. 

If I know something is hanging over my head, I just can’t enjoy myself; it’s “out there”, in Harry-and-Sally speak.  And so I enthusiastically roll up my sleeves and do a half-assed job because A) half-assed jobs are much easier to do than jobs well done and B) now I am looking forward to tomorrow.  I half-assedly vacuum, iron, garden, you name it and nobody has ever said to me, “Gee, your clothes are a bit wrinkled and there is still some dog hair on the floor and what is up with the clover in your garden?”  Because, as with most things in life, NOBODY CARES if you did it perfectly or not.  They just appreciate the effort.

Of course with any rule, there must be exceptions:  for me, the most glaring example of this is my closet, which is on FEMA’s watch list.  Every spring and fall when the time comes to rotate out cold weather clothes and rotate in warm weather clothes (and vice versa), I procrastinate like a pro.  Not to make excuses (well, maybe a little) but this is partly because of the climate I live in, where cold weather clothes often need to be accessible until June.  But also…I just dread it, really I do. 

I’m not sure why, because intellectually I know that it never takes as long as I think it will (because obviously I will do a half-assed job) and I always love the week or so afterwards when I actually have a (relatively) neat, organized closet.  I also have a bad habit of letting junk mail and magazines accumulate to a point where going through them becomes a Herculean task instead of just dealing with them as they come in.  But for the most part, when there is something that needs doing, I jump on it.  And rarely do I ask my husband to do ANYTHING I want accomplished in a timely manner.  Which is most things, frankly. 

Procrastination may feel luxurious in the moment but I promise you in the long run, like crime, it never pays.  It is MUCH more luxurious to be a half-ass, like me.  Before my son was born my husband and I lived on Long Island for a few years; we had a neighbor who let weeds and wildflowers take over his yard and he posted a sign that said “Serendipity” as his excuse.  When I look at my slightly wrinkled clothes and kind of hairy house and subtly weedy garden, I think:  “Serendipity”.  Even my monstrously chaotic closet gets this label. 

It is a fortunate happenstance to be here, half-assing it since 1967.  And in the midst of the understated disorder that is my life, I truly look forward to tomorrow.  A tomorrow rarely hinged on obligation and deadlines, but instead on bustling, cheerful disarray and the time and space to engage with the people who bring me joy.  So I will keep on half-assin’ it as long as I’m here and rely on serendipity to fill in the gaps.

MAE WHITMAN IS HOT! (Why it Doesn't Matter)

I have had the great good fortune to know the actress Mae Whitman personally since she was a little girl; like any doting adult, I have been proud and amazed to watch her grow from an incredible child to a beautiful, astonishingly talented woman.  Many millions of people have also had this great pleasure, as she has been a consistently working actress since she was “knee high to a grasshopper”, as the expression goes. 

One of her very first roles was in the now ubiquitous blockbuster “Independence Day”, playing President Bill Pullman’s daughter.  I mean, President Thomas J. Whitmore’s daughter.  I would now like to pause for a moment to objectify Bill Pullman’s absolutely gorgeous head of hair!  YOWZA!  And speaking of objectification, turns out they are making a sequel to Independence Day, and while the majority of the cast is returning to reprise their roles, Mae’s part has been recast.  Apparently, this beautiful and astonishingly talented consistently working actress is not “hot” enough.  Check it out if you don’t believe me:  http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/mae-whitman-not-hot-enough-sexist-hollywood-under-fire-for-recasting-independence-day-role-in-sequel-10220005.html

Now for the record, in spite of my personal bias I would like to mention that Maika Monroe, the actress who apparently IS hot enough to play President Bill Pullman’s daughter (she does have nice hair) recently appeared in the low budget horror film, “It Follows”, which I very much enjoyed.  I do not want anyone to construe this as an attack on her even though based on experience alone she empirically cannot have Mae’s chops.  This is an attack on the concept of “hotness” and the absurd assumption Hollywood seems to have made that it is not a totally and completely subjective standard. It is also an attack on the idea that "hot" is a valid objectifying factor in casting ANY role that includes lines and is not called something like “The Playboy Bunny”. 

Charlize Theron once referred to her now ex-b.f. Sean Penn as “hot”, God bless that gorgeous girl, and if that is not definitive proof that hot is in the eye of the beholder, I don’t know what is.  Sean Penn gets great roles because he is a great actor.  Therein lies the real issue: unless the President’s daughter grew up to be a Playboy Bunny and that is an intrinsic plot point in ID2, her subjective level of “hotness” should not matter even one little bit.

Back to the beautiful and astonishingly talented Mae:  she recently starred in a successful little movie called “The DUFF”, which I loved and recommend to you.  The irony of this delightful star turn is that The DUFF, for those of you not hip to the lingo, is the “designated ugly fat friend”.  Basically a girl version of “The Wingman” (interesting how men get a less insulting nickname); or, in Harry-and-Sally-speak, the one with the good personality.  And guess what?  A lot of people were not happy with this piece of casting news either, because Mae is most obviously not fat or ugly.  Well, except apparently to the producers of “Independence Day 2”. 

Ooooh, mind melt!!! Too hot for one role, not hot enough for the other and I say:  MAKE IT STOP.  Hot is not a cup size, a waist measurement or a perfectly symmetrical face…hot is confident, strong and willing to take chances.  YOU decide if you are hot, and nobody else.  Nobody else has any right to tell you that you are not hot (#nothot) because it is not about them.  If you believe you are hot, believe me, you are.  It is up to others whether or not they can handle it.

Beautiful women, beautiful people come in all shapes and sizes and this is something as a society we are struggling to accept.  But it sure gets a LOT of press and air time these days, because it is an important conversation to have.  But in the year 2016, I think we need to accept the notion that the objectifying label of “hot” is perhaps the most fluid on the planet…a good damn thing too, because it would be a sad world indeed if we were all attracted to the same handful of people.  Mae Whitman can be hot, and Maika Monroe can be hot and I can be hot and you can be hot and the beauty of it is, no one’s hotness in any way shape or form diminishes anyone else’s.  We can all be hot or #nothot, as we choose.  But let’s stop throwing it around as a label or definition that has the power to excuse what is good old fashioned sexism:  because some dude (or dudette!) in charge says you’re not hot enough, you’re out. 

What other industry could get away with rejecting a fully qualified applicant based on sexual standards? Why isn't it humiliating for studios to openly admit that they are casting pivotal roles based on the number one criteria of who they deem more “bangable”?  It’s pitiful, really, that adults in this day and age still feel comfortable issuing these sexist mandates.  The role in “Independence Day 2” should have been Mae Whitman’s to refuse by any fair or rational standard.  And again, for the record, IMHO Mae is HOT…not that it has any bearing on whether or not she is the best choice for the role.  And so I am, and you may be too.  Just always remember it’s YOUR CALL and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

See this also on the Huffington Post and click "LIKE" for me, please!  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kara-postkennedy/mae-whitman-is-hot-why-it-doesnt-matter_b_7203934.html

WHY REALITY ROCKS!

A few years ago, two of my very best friends in the world came for a “sleepover date” for my birthday.  Now, the fact that we are all in our 40’s should not discourage you; we can stay up too late doing silly and meaningless things with the most misdirected teenagers!  We indulged in the usual overeating and YouTube saturation…after which we moved on to the endless hilarity of what we later termed Reality Rocks. 

Have you ever been in a cutesy gift shop that sells rocks (or stones) of various sizes with inspirational sayings on them?  “Believe”… “Dream”… “Hope” … “Faith”...  Well, we decided there was an untapped market for rocks (or stones) with slightly more realistic advice:  “Deny” … “Wallow” … “Covet” … “Retaliate”.  We literally spent hours coming up with these, writing them on some river rocks I inexplicably had lying around the house and laughing to kill ourselves.   We felt there was a desperate retail need for REALITY rocks.

Reality gets a bad rap because it is full of all sorts of unsavory things like betrayal, embarrassment, disappointment, death and taxes.  We tend to think in extremely negative terms about reality, reserving our believe-dream-hope-faith experiences for special occasions or as pie-in-the-sky aspirations.  But reality is much more well-rounded than that; also more ambiguous. 

We can have an absolutely shitty day that turns into our most entertaining story EVER and we can have a long wished for dream-come-true that leaves us feeling flat.   Reality never looks like a Pottery Barn catalogue—it is messy, lived in, cluttered and riotous.  Reality is also the most flexible commodity on the planet…it shifts and changes as you do.  Be careful what you wish for and even more so what you believe.

“Believe” on the other hand, gets much more credit as a good thing than it deserves!  Believe as an inspirational catchphrase is quite suspect, because I know an awful lot of people who believe really horrible things…most of which I have never experienced evidence of in my “reality”.  From self-doubting beliefs to fear-based world views, these beliefs drive behaviors that make them come true. 

What you believe determines much of what you do, and what you do creates your life experiences.  Like the hypochondriac who actually contracts that weird, rare disease they feared, our beliefs work like a magic wand attracting evidence of what we think is true.  Our belief in our own inadequacy can keep us from achieving our dreams; our beliefs about the inadequacy of others can deprive us of community and intimacy.  Belief is a double edged sword and you must always be aware of how you are wielding it.

Reality knows no absolutes.  Nothing is definitively good or bad, no rule is so exacting that there are no exceptions, no truth is so profound that it doesn’t contain the essence of some banal lie.  Reality is our clay, to be molded and formed to our satisfaction…when that clay solidifies, we can name it good or we can wet it down and start all over again. 

Reality has the potential for endless reinvention because it is never done, never over.  You can try on as many hats as you like in your relationships, your career and your emotions.  You can fail, you can succeed, you can grow, you can contract and reality will just go with your flow and keep on keepin’ on.  “Change your mind, change your life” is not just motivational jargon—it is an invitation to try on as many “realities” as you can imagine.

Life is wonderful when you are in the mood to believe, dream, hope and have faith, but life can also be a great deal of fun when you make your mind up to deny, wallow, covet and retaliate.  There is a duality that exists that must be given its due:  you cannot have light without dark.  And if you are not capable of coveting something, for example, chances are pretty good you cannot attain it, either.   

Reality gives us the greatest gift of all…an understanding that imperfection is the norm, and we are officially off the hook.  When we give up on the empty ideals of the Pottery-Barn-catalogue, we begin to forgive ourselves for not meeting the standard that only existed in our heads anyway.  Self-trust begins to overtake self-doubt in that lifelong race as we no longer need to be perfect, we only need to be real. 

Really hopeful, really screwed up, really capable, really unsure of what comes next…but also really sure that whatever it is, we are up for it.  Because Reality Rocks!  And so do we.

 

WHY I AM GREEN! (And the Republican Candidates Make Me See Red)

Have you ever heard the expression “a stitch in time saves nine”?   How about “Trust in God, but tie up your camels”?  Or “better safe than sorry”?  We humans have a hilarious abundance of phrases that mean the same thing—when in doubt, we should err on the side of caution.  See, there’s another one! 

The point being, one thing anyone who can read or hear and/or has been living on this planet should NOT be in doubt about is global climate change.   The inevitable conclusion of having ANY information at all is that we must do something about pollution, like, yesterday.  Or even better, twenty years ago!  Where is the “way back” machine when you need it? 

Hey, you say, I recycle!  And buy “Energy Star” appliances when my old ones crap out!  I am doing my part!  And you are.  But unfortunately not only do you have to do YOUR part, but a probably a couple dozen OTHER people’s parts too, because Houston, we have a problem.  And the problem is, we have politicians and others who want to run our country committed to promoting the lie that climate change is not happening or, if it is, it is not because of our excessive consuming of fossil fuels and lack of government regulations on the big time polluters. 

Obviously this is on my mind because we are in the midst of yet another presidential campaign, with the usual parade of comedians and charlatans running for leader of the free world.  And that just covers Hillary Clinton. Ha.  But one thing Hillary’s got that neither of the Republican frontrunners have is a belief in reality. 

On the other hand we’ve got Donald “Climate change is an expensive hoax” Trump and Ted “There has been no global warming in the last 15 years” Cruz.  Ted Cruz went to Princeton, people.  Yikes.  The only Republican candidate who is taking a pro-active stance about our environment is John Kasich—and he has no chance of winning the nomination. 

I may disagree with you about everything else on the planet, but if we can agree about the planet, we are on solid footing.  Because protecting the planet means not only protecting ourselves and our future and the future of our children’s children, it also means not bowing to the special interests, the big corporations which view pollution as both necessary and intrinsic to their fat bottom lines; it means standing up for what is right for EVERYBODY, even if they can’t see it or won’t admit it. 

One thing former Republican candidate Jeb “I’m not a scientist” Bush and I have in common is that I am not a scientist either.  But as our current President has pointed out, you don’t have to be a scientist yourself in order to understand the wisdom coming out of NASA, NOAA and our major universities:  there is over a 95% consensus that climate change is happening and our behaviors are the direct cause. 

To put that in perspective, 95% is also the scientific consensus number on whether or not smoking cigarettes contributes to health problems.  AHEM.  The Koch brothers, our country’s very own Goofus and Gallant (plus a Goofus, minus the Gallant) spent over 100 million on the last mid-term elections to back candidates opposed to environmental regulations with great success.  If you think they did that because they are great guys with your best interests at heart…well, I have bridge to sell you. 

And look:  I realize the candidates are trying to “win” and that history has proven that their voting base prefers a guy who pretends what is happening is not really happening.  Just ask John Kasich.  Or ask former Republican congressman Bob Inglis how embracing climate change affected his (last and final) campaign.  But what is happening is happening.  And unless we start cooperating on how to fix what is happening, nobody will be a scientist anymore, not just me and Jeb Bush.  Because we need a viable planet to live on to become scientists.

So keep on recycling, buy some of those energy efficient lightbulbs and conserve water.  But much more than any of this, be careful where you cast your vote.  Think long and hard about the kind of belief system you want running your country.  Understand the consequences of choosing the interests of big business over the interests of our planet.  Choose carefully, because sooner or later your life may depend on it.  And if not yours, the lives of your children.

There is another expression, penny wise and pound foolish.  And that is what we all are if we don’t prioritize saving our planet over saving corporations money and over all other things NOW.  Because the time is long past when we should have come together for the purpose of a better life for all.  Maybe safeguarding our environment will mean that people like the Koch brothers don’t necessarily have 100 million lying around to throw at political campaigns, and how can that be a bad thing?  Without our planet they could have all the money anyone could ever dream of, but they’ll have no place to spend it…

Unless hell takes travelers checks.  Oh—and Happy Earth Day, btw!

WHY INDIANA WANTS ME! (Lord, I Can't Go Back There)

I know it’s not becoming to brag, but Indiana wants me!   You may wonder what makes me so special and I’ll tell it “straight” up—I am a heterosexual in a heterosexual relationship!  YAY ME!!!  In fact, a very dear friend of mine once called me “pathologically heterosexual”, which means I am SO straight, it’s like an illness.  Yeah, I don’t think he meant it as a compliment either.  Bygones.  Another thing Indiana covets about the great and wonderful me is that I am a Christian!!!  At least in the sense that I go to a church that practices the teachings of Christ like “Love thy neighbor as thyself”.  We do NOT practice the teachings of Christ where he says “Go into business to provide a service for money but then deny that service to paying customers because you believe I might disapprove of them”.  I think that must be a read-between-the-lines lesson, because I can’t find it in any bible I’ve ever seen.  I know that Jesus never addressed homosexuality according to any of his biographers, so if he had a problem with it, we’ll never know.   We do know that Jesus hung out with a lot of people who would be considered “immoral” even by today’s standards, but he never made any of them pizza, so there might be a solid argument to be had there.  However, he did actually say, “Judge not lest ye be judged” and that seems pretty clear, at least to me.

In spite of my totally awesome heterosexuality, I do not feel very Christian when I hear stories about people using Christ as an excuse to exclude others.  The Westboro Baptists make me most especially peevish, and not just because they called my alma mater “an ivy league whorehouse with a gay agenda”.    I also feel judgmental about the people who donated money to that pizza parlor for refusing to cater gay weddings; but on the other hand, a fool and his money can be good friends to have under any circumstances.  My brother and I want to take advantage of the situation (hey, everybody is doing it!) by setting up a GoFundMe! account to support us in our total bigotry towards bigots!  Or our alternative plan is host a big gay pizza party wedding in Indiana so that we can meet Zach Braff and Donald Faison (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/04/06/zach-braff-gay-pizza_n_7010510.html)!  WE LOVE SCRUBS!!!  My favorite headline so far is the woman who wanted to explain why she WOULD serve an adulterer but would not serve a gay couple.  I didn’t need to read the actual article to know that what she didn't say is “Because adultery is a chosen behavior and I support freedom of choice!”  Ha.

This reminds me of the time I (didn’t) refuse to serve an adulterer but still got to speak my piece:  I had a retail job in my 20’s where I was commissioned to sell very high end chocolate.  Like, $40 a pound chocolate.  25 years ago.  DO THE MATH.  Anyhow, I was working the hectic days leading up to Valentine’s when a well-dressed man requested TWO boxes of chocolate, one for his wife and one for his mistress.  Without a flicker of change to my expression, I explained to him that a half pound box was $20, a full pound box was $40 but he could put together his own assortment for the same price.  He shrugged and said, “So give me a half pound box for my wife and a full pound for the mistress.”  My response:  “NO.  Buy 2 half pounds or 2 full pounds, I don’t care; but I won’t sell you 2 different sized boxes.”  At this point my boss, who was an excellent candidate for a coronary under the best of circumstances, started making his way over to intervene.  But when the man said, “Okay…I’ll take two full pound boxes”, my boss suddenly disappeared.  That is called upselling for a cause, my friends!

It is good to have a cause; it is helpful to have a strong belief system and moral compass to guide you through the ups and downs of this thing called life.  However, discrimination by any other name is just as uncool—or as my #onetruelove Stephen King put it, “You can frost a dog turd, but it’s still a dog turd.”  The people who claim they are acting on behalf of an invisible deity in the sky might as well be saying “The devil made me do it” because it is an abdication of personal responsibility, pure and simple.  Whatever your deeply held personal belief about homosexuality may be, at the end of the day they are still your neighbors.  And Jesus is 100% clear on how we should treat our neighbors—we love them as ourselves.  And I don’t know about you, but I LOVE pizza!  This means I wish pizza for everybody, no exclusions.  If you, like me, are a bad Christian who judges people for withholding the services they went into business to provide for the public from people they deem unworthy, go to this website:  http://www.gofundme.com/pizza4equality  You can put your money where your judgmental mouth is and donate to help LGBT homeless youth.  I feel certain Indiana is chock full of judgmental, bad Christians just like you and I.  And fingers crossed at least some of them are planning that big, gay pizza party wedding because I am all about Zach Braff and Donald Faison throwing up pies!

WHY HE IS RISEN! (Relax; I'm talking about Michael Myers)

How do I love the zombie related holidays??? Halloween, Day of the Dead, Easter…let me count the ways!  Speaking of the magical bunny that travels the globe to deliver high fructose corn syrup and plastic eggs full of silly putty to deserving children (what do the bad ones get?  Heroin and razor blades?) the genre of risen-from-the-dead in film has its own unique lore and whimsy.  And just like on Good Friday, there is great comfort to be had in knowing that a world exists in which no one is ever really dead for sure.  You can get stabbed in the neck with a badass knitting needle, gouged in the eye with a wire hanger, shot multiple times and fall backwards off a second story balcony and live to tell the tale!

Not that Michael Myers is the chatty type.  He is a man of action!  A man, not unlike Jesus, of reanimation!  A man, also not unlike Jesus, with morals and values that he wants to share with the world!  That is the other comforting thing about horror films—they have rules of conduct that can ensure your salvation. 

Horror films and religion have a lot more in common than you might suspect, so let’s go there, shall we?

First off, the most obvious parallel is that both horror films and religion aim to scare you.  Don’t agree?  Most religions rely on the acceptance of an invisible entity that will punish you if you displease it or don’t follow its rules…hey, that sounds like the basic premise of a lot of great horror!  The Changeling, The Haunting, Burnt Offerings…invisible entities that punish you if you don’t follow the rules are scary as hell!  Both religions and fright flicks are also heavy into the mythology that there are evil spirits (devils or Satan) that are out to trick you, whether by possession or temptation, into breaking the rules so that you will be punished by spending eternity in their company. 

On this topic, The Exorcist is one of my top ten films EVER!!! 

Also:  total horseshit.  I don’t believe in the devil, or a version of God who lets the (imaginary) devil screw with his constituents, BUT it is fun and scary to pretend, right?  Another thing is that both horror films and religions want your MONEY.  Although the horror films only require the one time admission fee.  There is no promise that giving EXTRA money to the horror film industry will get you any kind of protection from God, or even Harvey Weinstein.

Some religions promise you eternal life; Jehovah’s witnesses even think the saved will be resurrected after Armageddon, which seems frightening to me.  Zombies also have eternal “life”, but it doesn’t look like it's much fun.  I think living forever sounds horrible, but I must be a minority.  Michael Myers clearly agrees, however, because each time he resurrects he comes back more vindictive than ever!   

Even Jesus only hung around for a few days, and that was to prove a point.  Speaking of Jesus, his “frenemy” doubting Thomas would TOTALLY be the first to go in a classic horror scenario.  “I don’t believe Jesus came back from the dead, I want proof, I want to put my hands into his wounds myself…”  WHAM!  In the horror film version of that story, Jesus would cram his fingers into gory wounds, pierce his hands with nails for irony and say something like, “Do you doubt now, Thomas?”  Thomas would slump to the ground, dead.  And Jesus would kill the rest of the disciples for very good moral reasons, I’m sure.

Horror films and religion both posit that the good ones are “saved”.  How do you know if you are a good one?  Premarital sex, drugs and being unkind to the less fortunate get you a one way ticket to hell in either.  The meek shall inherit the earth! 

And live to be the “final girl” in horror. 

It is usually a girl that makes it to the end of any good horror film because let’s face it, a boy who doesn’t drink, have sex or bully is really just a loser, and nobody want to watch a loser for 90 minutes.  Virginal girls seem to have superpowers (like giving birth to Jesus!!!) while virginal boys seem like they might need a diaper change and a good burping.  And woe to him that tries to lure our goody girl heroine to any immoral behaviors!  Lucky thing Ben Tramer was never able to make good on the plan to take Laurie to the dance in Halloween. 

Dodged a bullet there, Ben!   Metaphorically, of course…Michael Myers kills people with his super strong bare hands.  And Ben bites it in Halloween II, so that’s where impure thoughts will get you.

So if you, like me, enjoy being scared, you can curl up on the couch with your Netflix account…or go to church!  If you like to listen to people telling you stories about a mysterious, unseen entity that enacts its own brand of justice on a hapless world, you should totally check out John Houseman’s opening monologue from The Fog.  Or, you know, go to church. 

If you like the idea that sex outside of marriage is bad and you should be punished for having it, you should go see the super scary film It Follows.  Or church again. 

If you like the concept of people coming back from the dead, pretty much any film by George Romero will work…or Easter mass! 

Happy Easter, btw!  Enjoy your jellybeans and the only benevolent zombie aside from Ed at the end of Shaun of the Dead.  Great flick for laughs AND scares, if you are in the market.  Last thing religion and horror films have in common—get a good one, and it can be a real life saver.  I feel totally prepared for both the possibility of an afterlife AND a zombie apocalypse.  How can that be a bad thing?

WHY I AM GLAD I'M OLD

Damn, I am glad I’m old.  Not something you hear every day I am sure, but do not for a second question my sincerity in this.  I was born in 1967, and while this technically only qualifies me as chronologically “middle aged”, I am still the oldest old person I know.  I just read a great human interest piece about a saucy broad named Elizabeth Sullivan, who claims she has lived to the ripe old age of 100 and freakin’ 4 by drinking Dr. Pepper every single day.  Check it:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/19/elizabeth-sullivan-dr-pepper_n_6907106.html  I also drink Dr. Pepper every day, but got a strong sense that Elizabeth could kick my ass, no problem.  Hopefully that won’t come up.  I could always distract her with the offer of a cool, refreshing Dr. Pepper if need be.  Elizabeth says she enjoys being old, and so do I.  Just another thing we saucy broads have in common.  I enjoy being old because I can be the cantankerous hey-you-kids-get-off-my-lawn-and-turn-your-music-down-old-bat I was born to be.  I can eschew technology, claim ignorance of all things Katy Perry and Taylor Swift and put the word “the” in front of things I want to demean, as in “the Facebook”, “the reality TV” and “the Donald”.  I can ignore the existence of social media, refuse to use a GPS and not answer a text for hours because I almost never check my phone.  I am old, and it is my best excuse to be me.

I am the first to admit I don’t have a freaking clue what all of you are doing on your phones all the time.  I check my phone periodically throughout the day to see if the school has called or whatever, but when I am sitting in a waiting room or in traffic or eating out at a restaurant watching all my fellow wait-ers, drivers and eaters stare down at their phones, all I can think is “WTF are they looking at?”  Seriously, somebody tell me because I am genuinely curious.  I think of myself as a person with a lot of friends and I absolutely adore them all, but I need be in daily (or hourly) contact with none of them.  I love to make plans to get together and then, if there is traffic on the way, texting is a great way to let them know I will be late.  Or if I’m at the store and my husband thinks of something he needs, he can text me and that is great too.  What the hell are the rest of you texting about all the time?  I am obviously a person who has a lead ton to say on every subject imaginable, but very nearly all of it can wait until we talk again.  I think this is why people at social gatherings don’t talk any more.  They are staring at their phones because they have already texted (or posted on the Facebook) every miniscule detail of every aspect of their lives so there is nothing left to say.  I never have that problem.

I really have no understanding whatsoever of the Snapchat, the Instagram, the Pinterest and whatever else it is you all are doing on the internet these days.  I would ask someone to explain it to me, but I feel it would go down very much like the time I asked a child who was obsessed with the Pokemon to explain the Pokemon to me.  I got absolutely no clarity from the explanation and I think I accidentally killed the kid’s passion when he realized he didn’t really understand the Pokemon himself.  Video games are also a mystery to me.  I, like most people of my generation, had a brief love affair with Atari, Space Invaders and Ms. Pac Man.  But not unlike my son’s rainbow loom, after a short but intense flurry of activity, I grew bored and moved on.  From video games.  Forever.  Because I’m old.  Old people realize time is of the essence and staring at a video monitor fighting imaginary aliens in imaginary invasions for hours is a ridiculously wasteful use of my brain and lifespan, albeit a lifespan that has undoubtedly been supernaturally enhanced by Dr. Pepper.  Video games are boring.  They are not life.  Neither is the “reality” television, which appears to generally be a venue for people who would like a permanent record of themselves being humiliated on a national stage.  Count me out on all that, you dig?

I am old.  I use expressions like “you dig” and “hip to the scene” (which I clearly am not) and I don’t pay my bills online and I still have a landline and I frequently leave the house without my cell and I think e-mail is a radically boss, high tech way to stay in touch with the people I love.  I use the expressions “radically boss” and “high tech”.  I am old and I am happy to be that way.  While most people are looking down at their phones, I am looking around at the world.  I love to flirt with little kids in the grocery store, often getting to enjoy their precious antics while the harried, distracted parent is staring at a screen.  I like to talk to cashiers and waiters, make eye contact with other people who aren’t staring at their phones when something amusing happens, walk out in nature for hours with no access to technology at all.  I don’t bring my phone to church, the movies or my yoga class.  I am old.  I have a million stories from ye olde days, when we didn’t have cable TV, answering machines or microwave ovens.  Happy stories, funny stories, none of them involving technology of any kind.  Technology adds very little to the story of our lives, and when we really are old, we will not be reminiscing about the texts we received or the posts we read.  The story of your life is happening now.  Don’t miss it, please.