Second Half – “a bright spot in a grim world”

Second Half is a running commentary on everyday life for Baby Boomers and those who love them.

It has been hailed as “hysterical, sophisticated, biting, thought-provoking, and just plain funny.”

The column explores such things as what to do when your child comes home with a tattoo; how to make orthopedic shoes sexy; and the key to a happy marriage (low expectations).

Published in six Bay Area newspapers from 2004-2009, the column is now exclusively available online.

Porn for older ladies such as myself

He knocks on the door, wearing overalls and a smile. He listens attentively to your tale of woe, vows to make things right for you and gives you a sweaty hug. Be still my heart!

This hunk of manly man is not the male lead of a romantic movie, but a crewcut handyman named Mike. His TV show, “Holmes on Homes,” is a favorite of mine and many other women whose fantasies include a muscle-bound man who is determined to make us happy, not by wowing us in bed, but by tackling our honey-do list with tireless single-mindedness.

Mike is not afraid to badmouth all the other contractors who have done you wrong – cheated you, misled you, or abandoned you. “He stopped taking my calls!” you wail, and Mike shakes his head and mutters, “It’s just not right.” Then he takes…(Read more)

This, That, and the Other Thing

OVERHEARD

At breakfast this morning, the older couple in the next booth were chatting. (By the way, the definition of “older” is someone who is older than I am.)

She: Dan called and asked if you wanted to play golf today. I told him “no.”

He: Wha?? I would have played!

She: You have no business doing that.

And that’s that.

NEW RULES I WISH THEY’D POST AT THE GYM:

Don’t park your gum in the shower stall.

If you shed like a cheap fur coat, please unclog the drain for the next person.

Please wipe down the equipment after use. Especially is you’ve been straddling it. This means you, Lycra Man.

PROGRESS ON NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS

Clean pantry of outdated food, loose pasta, and potato chip crumbs. Done.

Clean out baskets where pet food and miscellaneous items are stored. Done. Bonus: found those keys I lost 15 months ago.

Clean out bedroom closet. Naw. I’m bored…(Read more)

France, continued

So, as I was saying, I went to France to find myself. In the process, I found some super new friends, a way to silence my inner critic, and a fondness for goat cheese.

Let’s start with the new friends. The self-selected group of people who showed up for Barbara Sher’s Scanner Retreat had a lot in common. We are all pretty smart cookies, we are interested in a plethora of pursuits, and we struggle to find our niche in life. Except for Ray, a friend and invited guest, I was the oldest seeker there, a bit of an embarrassment. You’d think I’d have it together at my age. [Shut up, Inner Critic! Who says you EVER have to have things figured out??]

My fellow Scanners were (to summarize in a one-dimensional and totally inadequate fashion):

An economist from Saudi Arabia who is chafing at her family’s expectations that she will get her…(Read more)

France? Why??

Many of you have asked what the heck I was doing in France all by myself.

It’s a fair question. Since I’ve shared such intimate details of my life as my adventures in a street corner toilet and my dog’s penchant for farting in bed, I guess I should be forthcoming about my pilgrimage to southern France.

One day last August I was browsing around YouTube, that repository of lowbrow culture that threatens to put “American’s Funniest Home Videos” out of business for good.

I came across a video of Barbara Sher, author of “Wishcraft” and “Refuse to Choose,” talking about people who can’t settle on a career. Obviously, this struck a chord with me.

I confess that I have Career A.D.D. My employment history is not exactly linear. I’ve been (in roughly this…(Read more)

The verdict is in on France: Oui!

The fog of jet lag and culture shock has lifted and I’m ready to report on my trip. I know you have been breathlessly awaiting my judgment on the nation of France. In case you don’t know, France is the country whose derrière we saved during WWII, only to have them refuse to kiss our own posterior forever after.

Prior to my trip, I collected various opinions about what I would find when I landed among Parisians. The French are snotty, said one friend. They will mock you if you don’t speak the language, said another. Pretend to be Canadian, said a third.

What I found were, with a few exceptions, people who were welcoming, kind, and helpful to one whose French language skills are limited to “bonjour” and “frommage.”

I’ll spare you the travelogue. Suffice it to say that the…(Read more)

Au Revoir, Mes Amis!

I’m going to Europe, y’all. I’m flying to Paris on Monday, on to Toulouse and then to a retreat (a self-renewal type of thing) in the medieval village of Puycelsi in the Pyrenees. My family will be glad that I’ll finally stop whining about being the only person who’s never been abroad (even my kids have traveled, one of them on my dime.)

I have a virgin passport, shiny and unstamped, a neck pouch for my valuables, and a book with pictures of objects to point to, as I’m unable to speak a word of French and might as well pretend to be a deaf mute.

My friends and family, knowing this is my first venture across the pond, are concerned about me traveling alone.

They have provided lots of helpful hints; for instance, the handy neck pouch to…(Read more)

The Social Network

This isn’t a movie review, although I do recommend the newly released movie starring Jesse Eisenberg as the “baby billionaire” Mark Zuckerberg.

If you haven’t seen it, the movie is about the founding of Facebook by a 19-year-old student at Harvard whose motivation was to be one of the cool kids and meet girls. It landed him billions of bucks, a lot of which were given to lawyers to defend his ownership of the idea and the company.

I’ll leave it to others to speculate on whether the portrayal of Zuckerberg is accurate. I’m more interested in the portrayal of college life.

I didn’t go to an Ivy League School. Rejected by Radcliffe (which merged with Harvard in 1999), wait-listed by Duke, I ended up at DePauw University, which billed itself as “The Harvard of the Midwest,” a claim…(Read more)

It Could Happen to You

The gas main explosion and fire that destroyed a neighborhood in San Bruno, California, has caused a lot of “what if” thinking among my friends and fellow inhabitants of the San Francisco Peninsula.

The recent disaster and tragic loss of life was too close to home to just shrug off. I mean, it is LITERALLY close to home, a mere 15 minutes up 101. But also, it is something that could happen anywhere, not just in areas prone to earthquakes, floods, or hurricanes. It could happen anywhere there is aging infrastructure, and isn’t that everywhere?

The event was so close to home that my first thought was to reassure my family in the Midwest that we were OK. After all, they call me when CNN reports an earthquake anywhere in California. Usually I haven’t felt a thing, but it’s nice to check in anyway.

So, I called my…(Read more)

Check Your ‘Tude, Dude

Do you think your fellow Americans are getting ruder? A new survey (Rasmussen Reports) finds that 69% of us think the Rudeness Meter is drifting upward. An optimistic 14% say we’re mellowing out, and another 17% are clueless.

Here’s my question. I’d like to know where the hap-hap-happy 14 percent are living because I’m moving there. Or else I want some of what they’re smoking.

In my opinion, humanity as a whole is acting like a spoiled teenager. We’re rude, self-centered, and oblivious.

As I get older, I’m more sensitive to others’ behavior and I’m not afraid to say something to them when they’re out of line, much to Keeper’s embarrassment. But hey, I’m in the majority here. According to the study, 51% of us have called someone on their behavior in public.

While I…(Read more)

It’s official

I am now an honorary old person.

Like all Baby Boomers, I have fought the battle against aging bravely, refusing to dress my age, pretending that wrinkles are smile lines, and doing something every day that would embarrass my kids if they knew about it.

We’re the generation that won’t ever grow old, right?  I remember when the words “don’t trust anyone over 30” crossed my moist and dewy lips, and now we’re twice that age.  Somehow we forgot to account for the law of nature – that the old make way for the young. Go figure.

Until now, I have avoided the Old People Place (euphemistically called the Adult Community Center – the ACC).  After all, everyone knows it’s for people with walkers and oxygen tanks.  I mean, even my parents (in their mid-80s) think that such centers are for folks older than themselves, so at 59, I’m MUCH too young to…(Read more)