Celebrations

Celebrations are really ballyhooed in our country as well as around the world.  What is a celebration? I actually went to my old Oxford American Dictionary to find out what they should be:

celebrate (sel- e -brayt) v. 1. To do something to show that a day or event is important, to honor with festivities, to make merry on such an occasion

Synonyms include merriment, revelry, fete, party, festivity, and gala.   We have all had them or at least took part in them.  We celebrate everything!  Births and birthdays, weddings, (sometime even divorces), anniversaries of said weddings, retirements, victories, and today, more and more we call the funeral services for a loved one a ‘celebration’.

My conclusion is that we just love a party.  Little kids look forward to their birthdays as a ritualistic rite where they will receive the bequest of their dream gift(s), consisting of theretofore unheard of requests for ridiculous, costly items that many times they don’t even deserve.  How does this work?  Simply by virtue of being born and sticking with it over the years, you should get expensive toys and electronic devices?  Because you are a great ‘beggar’, you realize a sometimes-ridiculous prize.  These newly gotten treasures are sometimes forgotten and tossed aside the same day or week in our quest for the next biggest and best prize.  Hey!  How about nurturing the idea that you are still alive despite all of the stupid things you and your parent(s) have done?  Or better yet, buy it for yourself!!!!  It’s never a wrong fit or color.

Parties of any kind may be a delight for the guests, but almost always are a trial and exercise in backbreaking labor for the host and hostess.  I vote for being the surprised, honored guest.  The only way to go!!!!  Arrive late and be overcome by the generosity and love of all the people who have come to honor or pay their respects for you.  For years I was an inveterate ‘party animal’.  Those were in the years when I was sooo dumb.  Give me an opportunity to throw a party and I would.  Once, (in 1984 – a lifetime ago) I invited more than a hundred people from my church to help Ron and I celebrate our 25^th wedding anniversary.  We made a request that no gifts were to be extended.  None were.  ‘Help celebrate? – Hah, no one did.   They waited to be fed and entertained.  I should have listened to George Orwell.   I just knew ‘Big Brother (or Sister) would be in the crowd inspecting and rating EVERYTHING.  I cooked and froze entrees for a month.  I cleaned like never before and had my cleaning lady, Nimmi, come weekly instead of twice a month and there was still a ton of stuff to do.  My guests (some of whom were not even invited) ate like horses, played serious physical and table games and stayed until 3:00 a.m., and then left to go to their various homes to sleep in peace and wonder who was giving the next party.  I was so tired as they left that I couldn’t even stand to wish them farewell.  I sat in a catatonic state, automatically waving goodbye, while inwardly vowing to myself that I would never do this again.  I spent a week cleaning up after that party.  Everyone told us what a fantastic time they had had and what a great cook I was!  So?   One remaining, lingering question about that party haunts me to this day.  Let’s not even mention the costs (and that was in 1984 dollars).  What in the hell made me think that would be fun?  I’ve learned my lesson.  It’s really a pity though, because I truly think I am a great hostess….

Now, in relation to funerals.  I truly believe that I might have coined the phrase, ‘A Celebration of the Life of________’.  Fill in the blank.  It has nothing to do with ego and intelligence.  In fact, it was quite the opposite.  In 1981 when my mother, Liney, passed away, I was literally overwhelmed not only with my grief, but with requests by groups and individuals to participate in the services.  I was stumped and so I said, “well we could look at it as a sort of celebration of mama’s life”.  My sister agreed (my brothers didn’t know what the heck I was talking about).   On an extremely hot day in July 1981 I realized the folly of my decision.  If in fact, it was to be a celebration, then it is inferred that the celebrants have a say in how they celebrate – right?  Following 4 sweltering hours in a large Baptist Church (with suspect air conditioning), and numerous gospel music entertainers singing their hearts out, we had to endure a 20-mile ride to the cemetery in said unbearable heat.  While my Mother would have loved the tributes, I feel today she was the only participant who could have enjoyed it because she ‘wasn’t’ there.  

I would never want to go through that again (living or dead) nor put anyone else in that predicament.  It’s stupid and painful.  Simple and refined is the only way to go.  No revelry!  That’s why I am planning my own funeral!  So far I am on page 27 of the program.  It will be really VERY sad, after all look at what you’re losing!   The photos slide show is complete.  I’m still trying to contact the guy in New Orleans who rents the 6 white horses and the gold carriage.  I understand that he’ll throw in six ‘wailers’ if they are not previously engaged.  Gosh, there is so much I want people to know about how I feel about them and ton of things I will have forgotten to say.  So give me a break, after all, who knows me better than “ME”?

Celebrate –smellibrate!!! Who needs it?  Bah – humbug!!!!!!  Forgive me, but I don’t even like going to some parties these days; I can’t stand to see the suffering host and hostess.  Except in the case of our friends Holly and Wally.  They are pros…

I just realized that this could just be the start of a 6-part series, uhmmmm?

An aside:

Wendy Williams recently asked Joan Rivers what she thought of women who date older men, She said, “God bless them”.  Find a guy with a cough and a nurse!!!!  A guy who see you in a bar and says, very suavely, “Do I come here often?’

She says she doesn’t like dating younger men – she doesn’t want to wake up in the morning and ask herself, “Did I bring him home or did I give birth?”

It’s a Really Small World

One of the first instances that comes to my mind occurred in the early 1980’s when Ron and I and our family went to a fall retreat with our church at Camp Cedar Falls in the San Bernardino Mountains in Southern California.  It was a gorgeous weekend and a wonderful time to fellowship with other members and good friends.  I didn’t know there were other congregations there as well. 

Ron went to breakfast early before worship and I decided to sleep in for an hour or two.  Almost immediately Ron rushed back and shook me to waken me.  “Joyce, you’ve got to come to the cafeteria!  Now!  I just saw these two girls who look just like your Mother.  Hurry – you won’t believe it!  It’s amazing!  I really could have cared less and told him so, but I reluctantly struggled out of bed and followed him out into the pine scented nippy morning air.  As soon as we reached the cafeteria he distanced himself from me and just said look around and see if there’s someone here who looks familiar.  I of course had no clue of what to look for so I felt like a fool.  Luckily most of the people in the room were African-Americans so that narrowed it a little bit.  I really wanted to go and sit down and have some toast and a hot drink, but I wandered through the tables making my way towards the serving area and midway I stopped in my tracks.  There before me were two young ladies sitting together at a table and as they casually looked up at me as I passed I was assaulted with the unmistakable stare of the Rozier eyes!  My own mother’s hazel colored eyes.  Amazing since I’d never seen them before in my life.  It turned out they were the great granddaughters of my Uncle Daniel Rozier.  On further perusal the similarities were truly amazing.  I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my mother and sister.  Sadly, I’ve never seen either of them again.

A second and really amazing coincidence occurred in Washington D.C. in 2000.  Ron and I were there for the 50^th year commemoration of the start of the Korean War.  It was such an exciting visit and there were so many perks included so I was somewhat overwhelmed by the pageantry and hype, but so glad to be there.  I truly love that city and the history and ideals it represents (or it used to).  Included in our iteniery was a special escorted trip through the Capitol building itself to areas not usually accessible to the general public.  As with everything in Washington, no matter how special the invite was, we still had to wait in a long queue to go into the building.

Not ever being one to stand idly by when I’m bored, I just started to listen to the conversation of other people in line in front and in back of us.  Suddenly I heard a name that was dear and familiar.  Brent Wood!  I listened more closely.  “He’s such a dear, and such a good speaker.”  I was absolutely mesmerized and when the words All Nations passed the woman’s lips I was stunned.  None of the group were members of our church!  But Brent Wood was our Pastor and All Nations was our church.  I just had to ask! 

A third coincidence just happened just a few years ago in Estes Park, Colorado at the Hunter’s Steakhouse Restaurant.  It was the only restaurant open after our disappointing drive to Bear Lake.  There were a ton of people there, both seated and waiting to be seated.  Ron with his usual enthusiasm (or should I call it arrogance or insensitivity?) pushed his way right up to the hostess.  Two couples tapped his shoulder and told them they were waiting in line.  Ron apologized and eventually was able to give his name to the host.  In my shy retiring way I hung back (and snickered).

In the mean time some guy who was already seated and eating, began to stare at Ronald.  Ronald commented to the other couple who were still waiting in front of us.  They all started to laugh, and engaged in a rather clandestine conversation.  Ron motioned for me to come forward.  They were laughing at the man’s staring.  The wife asked me if we had eaten there before.  They said they were new there and were from California.  I, of course, told them we were from there as well but had lived here in Colorado going on 7 years.  She wanted to know where we had lived in California and I told her West Covina for 35 years.  She broke into a big smile and said she had been born in West Covina.  The hospital was right down the street from our house.  In the excitement of talking about West Covina and the places we knew from the old neighborhood we forgot about the rude man’s staring and later went on to have a lovely dinner.  Wow!  How small is the world after all? 

Recently a young woman (Tamie) who is a member of my knitting group called me, sounding rather agitated.  Since we had spent the previous afternoon laughing hilariously together over various subjects, I was somewhat alarmed and wondered if she had been offended by something I had said.

Her first words had been, “I want to get something straight”.  Uhmmm, I thought – What did I do?”  She then proceeded to ask me a lot of questions about how long I had lived in Montrose and where I had lived previously.  When she had mentioned my name, her mother had remembered a conversation from 10 years ago with her sister-in-law who was visiting.  She was sure her sister-in-law had told her a good friend had moved to Montrose from Southern CA recently and she had forewarned her to look out for me.  She then asked me if I knew her aunt, Clara?  I was stunned for two reasons; I had known and enjoyed Clara’s company in a club we belonged to for probably 20 years, and I had just learned that she had passed away.  I then remembered that Clara had told me her brother was the Mayor of Montrose, the little town I was moving to.  That Mayor had been Tamie’s Dad!   I keep wondering, what did Clara tell them about me, that Tamie’s Mom would remember me 10 years later?  Clara knew a lot to tell from our wild nights in Anaheim and Pasadena during the 70’s.  But I thought we were all sworn to secrecy….

My Life at the Movies

I spent some really enjoyable time recently at the movies.  Because all the movie treats are so expensive we used all the usual throw away coupons for free popcorn or sodas and ended up having a great time.  This was not so unusual for us since it has been a habit since the beginning of our marriage.  Ron and I spent every weekend in the giant movie theaters of Southern CA for most of 1959.  

Orpheum Theater at 8th &
Broadway in Los Angeles

We would visit the big glamorous theaters that lined the streets of Broadway in downtown Los Angeles, The Orpheum, the Los Angeles, United Artists, The Egyptian, the Million Dollar, the State  and the Palace.  These opulent theaters had started out in the 1920s and 30s and were originally vaudeville house where many famous stars performed.  For an inner city girl they were beyond any luxury with marble and gold accoutrement's as well as voluminous red velvet drapes as well as red velvet upholstered seats.  On a big weekend we would go to Grauman’s Chinese theater and see top hit movies plus all the hand and foot prints of 100s of stars.  Until I married Ron, I was pretty much restricted to the neighborhood movies venues like the Bill Robinson on Central Avenue.

This year (January 2012) we went to the Consumer Electronics Show at the convention center in Las Vegas.  It has become our habit periodically when we are in Las Vegas because of all the multiplex theaters and somewhat moderate prices for senior citizens to seek out films we have wanted to see.  Some top-notch films never make it to our little town’s theaters.  What I really like is the spaciousness and anonymity that comes in the big auditoriums.  I sometimes feel I don’t want anyone to know I willing paid to see such tripe.  Sometimes the THX sound systems are overwhelming but never to the point that I want to say turn it down.  I also love the experience of seeing the upcoming attractions!  As I age, I find this even more thrilling and although some movies I dismiss immediately, a lot of them I find myself hoping I live to see.  I am amazed at the talent and intellectual processes that drive Hollywood.  I am also amazed at the visionary producers and directors who decide to bring ideas and concepts to the screen.

During our recent visit, on one day I got to see Mission Impossible –Ghost Protocol, War Horse, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and Sherlock Holmes.  Ron also saw Contraband with Mark Wahlberg who he really loves as an actor.   On the Ron-Joyce Rating Scale they all received high scores but for me War Horse scored a 10, Girl With the  Dragoon Tattoo scored a 9, and Sherlock Holmes scored an 8.  The others all scored a 7.

This morning I found that some of the really good movies I had seen in previous months were recognized with nominations for Academy awards.  The Help, War Horse, and Girl with the Dragon Tattoo were all nominated.  I won’t get too excited pulling for these movies or their talented actors because as I found with this NFL Season, every team I pulled for, lost.

I don’t necessarily find myself lost in the movie itself but I do analyze the talents of the writer, editors, cinematographers, directors and producers.  What a phenomenal industry.

I Did It and I’m Not Sorry

This is the most difficult topic so far.  I can’t think of anything I’ve ever done that was wrong (except the other ones I’ve already written about).  It took a lot of musing to finally come up with something.

I could write a lot about foolish things I’ve done in Las Vegas, but almost every time, I truly regretted it.    I guess I’ll have to write about the food rules I break.  I’ve had diabetes for more than 22 ears.  Just this last week offers a prime example of how bad I can be.  I really detest the fact that I am diabetic, since it means I really have to watch my diet very carefully – absolutely everything seems to be verboten!

Sugar, sodium, carbohydrates and saturated fats on a regular basis can be deadly to a diabetic.  When I’m not nervous or under great pressure, I can handle this set of restrictions.  It seems though that those times have been rarer and rarer.

The only reason that I have been able to lose any weight at all is because I have conscientiously tried to be cognizant of food contents and avoided those that contain the lethal ingredients.  I’ve even taken classes while I have lived in Montrose that was designed to help me learn to balance my diet.  All the doctors and class instructors have said that it’s okay to have a sweet every once in a while, just don’t over due it!!!!   I really want to do the right thing because I’ve seen the damage this disease can do.  I don’t ever want to have to take insulin shots or have any more damage done to my system.

During a recent visit to California for our annual family reunion on 4^th of July I blew everything.  I knew what I was doing and I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.  My favorite foods all of my life have been desserts – not just sweets, but desserts.  Most of my paternal family has the same problem.  They always make the best desserts.  Ron can usually take them or leave them so you would think that would make it easier for me to handle the dilemma.  It usually is at home, but in restaurants and at family gatherings I can always find my favs.

I usually talk so much that I cruise through most meals and don’t ever over do them.  My cousin Paulette had so much food, plus all the food brought by others it was overwhelming.  Ron and I brought two pies from Marie Callender’s – lemon meringue and apple (two that I love).  I had a brat and some greens that everyone was raving about – that was it.  Not even any bread. 

A few hours later when the fireworks were over and some people were leaving, Paulette discovered she had two gigantic strawberry and cream cakes and about 5 pies left including the lemon one we had brought.  She was distressed about what she was to do with all the sweets.  I decided I’d have just a little piece of pie.  A lady who I didn’t even know came in to help slice the leftover desserts.  I somehow was handed a double portion of the cake and then I told her I really had wanted a piece of pie.  She then promptly added that to my plate as well.  I was stunned at first, then recovered and thought.  I guess it’s just meant to be.  I went out to the patio, which was considerably darker by then and quietly ate it all. 

I was periodically assailed by guilt, but it was so good!!!!!  I did it and I don’t regret it at all.  Sure it was wrong, even foolish, but what can it hurt?  I’ll let you know when I get my A1C test back in August.

Oh, forget what I just wrote…I am really sorry for what I did.  Like most sins, it was fun while it lasted.

What’s Wrong?

Is there something wrong with me?  There must be!  These are supposed to be my ‘golden years’ and the time of life when you relax and enjoy all the things you dreamt about when you were working.

It’s just my nature I know, but I seem to be busier and more stressed than ever.  I’ve decided to try and stop watching the news and  all the talking heads on television – it really starts my day off wrong.  It will be extremely difficult since it is a lifelong habit.  I literally sit for hours listening to their disclosures, getting frustrated and madder by the minute.  I’ve got to stop…..

Family of course is at the center of everything for me.  The more your family matures it seems the more challenges and obstacles come to you.  I already worry about everything!  I don’t know how many times I just want to screen the call and not answer – call them back later.  Sometimes I answer and just sit mutely – Wendy gets the message in a hurry.  “Oh, I can tell you’re bored!” she’ll say.  Or, “Are you on the computer, I can hear you typing?  I’ll call you later when you can talk.”  I really tend to hate the telephone.  I detest it when Ron passes it off to me without even finding out if the person really wanted to speak to me.

Every phone call bring some apprehension – which is just wrong.  Why can’t I expect good news?  (Like someone calling to tell me that a long lost relative has left me a fortune).  The reason is that that has not been a part of my experiential background.  The phone has traditionally brought bad news or no news – depending on who you’re talking to.  The other day my niece Stacy called  while I wasn’t home.  Ron told me about the call and said, “She was really crying”.  A million different negative possibilities went through my head… then to top it off I couldn’t get through.  I spent 4 hours worrying about what was wrong, only to have her respond when I finally got her, “Oh nothing, I was just emotional because I got the wedding scrapbook you made for me”.  Four hours! !!!        

Gasoline is the biggest rip–off going.  There’s no shortage and the gas companies continue to earn their biggest profits ever.  They close refineries just to slow down production.    We spent $40.00 going to Grand  Junction in Ron’s big truck the other day – so I made the trip more meaningful by buying something big to make the trip worthwhile.  The source of so many trips for us to Grand  Junction is the VA clinic.  This time it was a 15 minute visit to tell him he won’t need to come again for a year.  Duhhhh… What the oil prices do to propane is obscene.  I’m wondering if we need to take out a loan to pre-buy for the coming winter.

I find I hate going to the store because not only have food prices risen so high I can’t believe it.  At least I consider everyone in this same boat with me so it’s not so catastrophic.   The problem magnifies when your kids want to get in your part of the boat and share.  We always laugh because Wendy regularly shops in our pantry.  Ethan even tells her not to buy something at the store because she can probably get it at Noni’s and Papa’s.  I really don’t always enjoy cooking anymore either.  Gosh,  haven’t I cooked just about every dish I know at least a million times each?  I’m tired of cooking.  Everything is just a repeat of something I’ve already done.  It’s always wonderful to get something new, exciting and delicious.  I just don’t want to invent it or cook it.  Enough!!!!

Health care is the other major thorn  in my side right now.  I really am too smart for the room I guess… I look at too much TV news.  I have read in the last few months about the debacle in congress when they were getting ready to pass the Medicare Prescription Plan.  There were more pharmaceutical lobbyist there than congressmen.    There was so much arm twisting of the congressmen by a select few and once the bill was passed, those select politicians went on to become lobbyist themselves, at salaries topping more than 2 million dollars.  Then, I read in the AARP Newsletter that despite the promise to keep drug costs down for seniors, three months after the bill passed, most of the drugs used most often by seniors were quietly increased 6.7%.  That is why I get so angry every time I see that TV commercial encouraging viewers to write their congressmen and tell them to leave the Medicare RX bill alone.  All of my prescriptions went up this year from $1.00 to $12.00 per prescription.

There is something wrong with me.  It’s not all about money – it’s everything1  The lack of honesty and integrity.  The people we’re supposed to trust having feet of clay….

All of it is my fault without a doubt.  I bring it on.  I allow it to happen and overwhelm me.  Only I, with God’s grace, can do something to stop my incessant whining.  I’m trying to figure it out!

Packing for a Long Trip

Where to  start???  I have been packing for over a month now.  Fifty-pound limits on checked luggage.  Yikes!  But we’re going to be gone almost 5 weeks!  I have purchased new luggage that is lighter in weight.  The darn airlines have given me a real challenge that I am afraid I will flunk.  I am additionally challenged by the fact that Ron doesn’t even begin to understand how much stuff I need to take…

I have spent more money than I ever planned to, just in order to be a more efficient traveler.  The other day I filled up my photographers backpack and when Ron hefted it to my shoulders I almost fell over!!!!  Scary… just too heavy.  I have since decided that I must carry a camera bag as a carry on.

There will only be two formal nights on the cruise and I’ve already packed my fancy duds in the garment bag so I really can forget that – except that I have a few other things that I would prefer not to get wrinkled… uhm, what to do?  I also have lots of shoes, ranging from slippers, tennis, flip-flops, pumps and comfortable walking shoes.  I need them all in case my feet hurt from soooo much walking.

I really have a dilemma because I can’t ask any of the people I trust –‘cause they certainly would find something to leave behind – and I don’t want to hear it.  Ron hurts my feelings because he’s so adamant about it.  Wendy laughs because she thinks I want to be a ‘best dressed diva’ on this trip.  So not true.  My friend Maria tells me to take all dark or all light clothes so I don’t have to sort them in order to do laundry.  Is she kidding?  Sort???  I wasn’t planning on doing any laundry – I’m taking enough items for every day (smile), just kidding.

I’ve really got to get serious about this packing stuff… the problem is that I have too many things I really want to do.  My attention span is nil.  I’d really like to take pictures of the beautiful flowers Ron gave me, but that doesn’t make sense… we have just a week to go before we leave.  I also want to send out celebratory announcement photos about Ron and I celebrating 50 years of marriage.  I feel really blessed since so many people felt it wouldn’t last.   I wonder if anyone will care.  The camera gear is the real problem, but there is no way I’m not taking it!  My tripod weighs 15 pounds by it-self.  I thought I’d just put it in Ron’s big suitcase.

Am I too self-centered…just too darn selfish?  Yes!!!  I know that in the long run, ‘Ron’, also know as HoneyBoy, will be wrestling to manage this luggage.  We know we’re going to have a Pontiac G6.  I want to go look at that car at a dealership so that I can gauge the trunk and back seat space.

I’ve made a checklist of all the things I’m taking but I’ve run out of space.  I thought it would come in handy in case my luggage was lost… Oh well, I’ll keep trying.  It’s just all too much for a small brain like mine.  However, I do feel like the song some of the kids in my class used to sing about cry-babies.  “Everybody hates me, nobody loves me, I think I’m gonna eat some worms”.

I’ll have 3 suitcases and a camera bag.  I’m putting my purse in the small suitcase that I’ll carry onboard.  Ron will have one large suitcase and a garment bag, and he will carry on my backpack and a small carry on.  Doesn’t that sound reasonable to you?  Don’t answer.