Put That In Your Pipe and Smoke It

The other day, I was driving home from somewhere. I was stopped at a red light. There was a car that turned left on the green light, moving right past me. I couldn’t help but notice that the car was driven by a young 30-ish man who was smoking a pipe. Yep, you read that correctly. A pipe. If he had been wearing a plaid deerstalker hat, I would have thought it was Sherlock Holmes driving a tan Ford Taurus.

I haven’t seen a man smoking a pipe in 50 years. There was a time in the 70s when men smoked pipes. (Men, of course, smoked pipes long before the 1970s. But I’m pretty sure they went out of favor until the practice was renewed for some inexplicable — at least to me — reason in the 70s.) My dad, who smoked cigarettes for many years before he gave up the habit around 1970, smoked a pipe for a short time. I’m pretty sure it was half-heartedly. Because, PIPE. My brother-in-law Terry also smoked a pipe. In fact, if I remember correctly, he had a collection of pipes, some of which he probably smoked. As far as I know, he didn’t own a deerstalker cap or solve mysteries.

Now, men smoke cigars. Cigars are manly and fashionable and don’t make a huge bulge in your pocket if you carry it around as would a pipe. I know this because Bill often carries around a cigar. You never know…..

Speaking of Bill, when I observed the man smoking the pipe, I asked him if he ever smoked a pipe. The answer, of course, was yes. It was the 1970s and it looked good with the mustache and sideburns he sported, along with every other American man in the 1970s. I’ve never seen a photo of Bill with a pipe, but I have seen a photo of Bill with a mustache. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

“Why did you stop smoking the pipe?” I asked him.

“It was disgusting,” said the fervent cigar smoker.

There are still a few people in this world who smoke pipes, I read in an article in the Baltimore Sun. Of course, the article was dated August 1998, so all of those people might have already quit or died. Except for the man driving the Ford Taurus, and leprechauns. According to this long-ago article, both Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger secretly smoked pipes. I’m serious. The article said that they both hid the fact that they enjoyed a good puff of pipe tobacco because it’s considered unmanly, unlike cigars, which are so macho that even dictators smoke them. I’m guessing that neither Sly nor Arnie still smoke a pipe. It’s difficult enough to look macho when you’re limping from gout due to old age.

I will tell you that the last time I went to the grocery store, I cast a glance at the tobacco shelf, which is, of course, locked up like it contains original heirloom tomato and green bean seeds. There, sitting lonely and unloved, were several pouches of pipe tobacco, all with a touch of dust on them. Clearly not the store in which the Ford-driving pipe smoker shops.

Friday Book Whimsy: No Time Like the Future

Actor and author Michael J. Fox lives with Parkinson’s Disease. He was diagnosed in 1991 with early onset PD. Since that time, he has written four novels about his life with PD. More important, in 2000, he founded the Michael J. Fox Foundation to research cures for this yet-uncurable disease. His foundation provides support for both people with Parkinson’s and for the caregiver. Thanks to this foundation, a whole heck of a lot of money is going into research about the disease.

I pay particular attention to the Michael J. Fox Foundation, and to the founder himself, because my husband was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2009. I asked my husband once if it bothers him to read Fox’s books or see him on television. He gave a resounding no, saying instead the man inspires him. I find that to be amazing.

No Time Like the Future is Fox’s fourth book. I will admit that I have not read the other three. I was coaxed into reading this particular book, and was ever-so-glad that I did. Fox’s writing is funny and smart and self-deprecating. He doesn’t wallow in his sorrows, but instead, is forthright about his condition and how he and his family live and cope with the disease.

No Time Like the Future tackles an unrelated issue that the actor recently went through, that being a spinal cord issue requiring very risky surgery. His recovery was obviously impacted by the fact that he experiences the symptoms of PD, and his ability to work so hard to recover is inspiring.

His story gave me perspective and made me laugh at the same time. I frequently read parts out loud to my husband, saying, “Don’t feel bad. Michael J. Fox is going through the same things you are!”

Fox, of course, has the advantage of wealth and fame. As such, he is able to experiences that we will never obtain. But I didn’t find that offputting at all. Instead, I was reminded that pushing forward, and even more important, laughing at your own foibles, is critical in facing this disease.

I think the book would be interesting to anyone who knows a person with PD. I also, however, think it is just a well-written and funny story.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

King of Beasts
If you read Tuesday’s post, you know that Bec and I went to the Denver Zoo this week. I was very happy to be able to make use of my membership after COVID stopped us all dead in our tracks. We saw lots of animals, but one of our favorites appeared at the very end of our visit. Earlier, as we walked by the lion exhibit, there wasn’t a lion to be seen. Too hot, we thought. But as we made our way to the door, we passed the lion exhibit one more time. There we spotted the King of Beasts, acting like the King of Beasts. Behind me I heard a small child say, “Look Mommy! There’s Mufasa.” The Lion King is one of my favorite Disney movies, and I must admit that the lion resembled Mufasa…..

See the resemblance?

Favorite Things
I saw something on Facebook the other day that caught my eye. What movie have you purposely seen more than 10 times? The person who posted the question admitted to seeing Forest Gump and Groundhog Day more than 10 times. I have seen Forest Gump exactly twice. Groundhog Day I may have seen 10 times, but not on purpose. It just seems to be on television a lot. I like both movies. However, the movie I’m certain I have watched way more than 10 times is The Blind Side. I love that movie so much. I love it so much, in fact, that Bill and I watched it again last night. Though I can practically say the dialogue along with Sandra Bullock, I never fail to cry in the right spots, get scared when I’m supposed to, and rejoice when Michael is dropped off at college. As an aside, Blues Brothers is the movie Bill would say he’s seen many, many times.

Happy Birthday
We celebrate lots of birthdays in August, and this past Tuesday was our grandson Micah’s ninth birthday. Micah is a fan of making music. He has had an ear for music almost since birth. He has honed his musical interests a bit, and prefers percussion. I heard him say he wanted a glockenspiel for his birthday this year, so Papa and I gave him that for his present. First thing Tuesday morning, I got a text video from his mom featuring Micah on the glockenspiel. Needless to say, he is almost a maestro already, glockenspiel-wise. He seemed very happy.

BFFs
Adelaide met her new best friend on Monday, her roommate Maya (I hope I’m spelling that correctly). I was very lucky when I moved to the dormitory back in 1972. My roommate became one of my very best friends. We jelled immediately. It helped that she had attended a small Catholic high school that our small Catholic high school competed against in all sports. It was, in fact, our archenemy, but my roommate and I were able to overcome. I hope that Adelaide and Maya will be good friends.

Map Your Way

Between visits to the zoo, visits to the doctor, and other various activities, I wasn’t able to be creative enough to come up with an idea for a blog. Here is an oldie, but goodie from a year ago.


A couple of weeks ago when we were in Montana, Julie, Maggie Faith, and I drove into Yellowstone National Park. The forest ranger at the entrance gate gave us a map of the park and a smile. We no sooner left the gate when Maggie spoke up brightly from the back seat, “Can I have the map and be the navigator?”

She’s only 12 years old, but I have seen most of my grandkids, including Maggie, use my GPS program to locate many a geocache. So I know they are capable of reading a map. Reading cursive writing? No. But a map? Yep.

It came as no surprise to this Nana that Maggie did a pretty darn job of navigating. Oh, she had a bit of trouble remembering that north was at the top of the map. But she correctly led us to all of our chosen points of interest.

“I feel like I’m with the explorers Lewis and Clark,” I said. “Which one are you, Lewis or Clark?”

Without missing a beat or looking up from her map, she replied, “I don’t know. Which one was most important?”

Bada boom!

I don’t have the self confidence of Maggie, but I share her love for maps. I am, however, mostly unable to navigate as I have no sense of direction or distance. When Ms. Google tells me to turn left in a thousand feet, she might as well be explaining the Big Bang theory to me. I got nothin’. I have no idea how far one thousand feet is.

But I will tell you that if you put a map in my hands, you’ve lost my attention for the  foreseeable future. It’s inexplicable and inconsistent, but there you have it. I can get lost in a map. (Ha ha; get it? Lost in a map?) I think that the fact that my sense of direction is so poor contributes to my obsession with maps.

Here’s what I mean: Despite having spent three months living in Europe 10 years ago, I still will look at a map and think I didn’t know Spain and France were right next to each other, or maybe wow, you could walk from Italy to Croatia. 

If you really want to see me absorbed in something, hand me a road map of the United States. I love to see what states are neighbors; how far St. Louis is from Louisville, Kentucky; through what states the Mississippi River flows; whether North Carolina is really north of South Carolina. I try to recall my elementary school tests and name the state capitals.

And for what it’s worth, while Captain Lewis probably bragged to his buddy Second Lieutenant Clark that he was the leader of the expedition, the fact of the matter is that they would both still be wandering around if it wasn’t for Sacagawea, their 16-year-old Shoshone guide. Men never ask for directions.

What’s more, Sacagawea 

It’s All Happening at the Zoo

It’s probably been three years since I’ve visited the Denver Zoo. COVID was a large reason for my absence. But the truth is, my grands are all getting to the age that they aren’t quite as interested in the zoo.

Still, I love me a zoo, which is why I continue to buy a membership in both the Denver and the Phoenix Zoos. Both of these zoos, by the way, are continually named in the top 10 zoos in the United States. Yay, us.

Yesterday morning, when Bec came downstairs, I said, “Hey! Let’s go to the zoo. I hear it’s all happening at the zoo!:

Well, I didn’t say that last part, but don’t deny it. All Baby Boomers are thinking about Simon and Garfunkle right now.

So despite it being one of the hottest days of the summer, we hopped in the car and went to the Denver Zoo. Man, has it ever changed since I last visited. I suspect that they spent all of 2020 working on projects they couldn’t get around to in the past because of all of the visitors. It is really nice, and getting nicer all they time.

Though it was hot, we were lucky enough to be able to see quite a few animals.

We saw the mountain sheep and goats, we saw the rino and the hippo, we saw the flamingos…..

We saw beautiful flowers…..

And we saw the King of Beasts, posing like he owned the zoo…..

We saw many others as well. And we heard the best zoo story I believe I have ever heard before from a docent who worked in the primate area. We saw that there were four orangutans, one of which was quite small. At one point, the small one ran to the largest one, the one I figured was mommy orangutan, and received a kiss on the lips from her parent. According to the docent, the three smaller were all female siblings. Mother Orangutan had died suddenly. The zoo folks weren’t sure what would happen to the kiddies, because orangutans children stay with their mommy for up to eight years.

“But,” the docent said with a sparkle in his eye, “the papa stepped up and has taken the place of the mama perfectly well.” I looked over at the daddy cuddling the small animal and agreed wholeheartedly.

It was a wonderful day at the zoo.

Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

Adelaide Grace McLain was born yesterday. Well, it seems like yesterday. She went from this…..

…..to this……

…..pretty much overnight. It seems like it, anyway. Who knew those two little sprouts on her head would turn into a beautiful mane of golden hair?

There are plusses and minuses about being the first-born. She was the first born in her immediate family. Her mother says she would put her in her crib while she took a shower. If she heard a single peep, she would rush out of the shower to check on her. By the time Addie’s youngest sibling was born, Magnolia’s cries could wait until her mother’s shower was over. It’s the way of the world.

Addie is a typical first-born. She has high expectations of herself, but also of the world around her. It’s why she graduated fifth in her class, and why she is now entering Colorado State University in its honors’ program. It’s also why there is little doubt in this nana’s mind that she will somehow positively impact this world. Adelaide Grace is a force with which to reckon.

Bill and I were in Fort Collins this past weekend, and Jen drove us over to the campus so we could see where Addie would be living starting this very day…..

Students in the honors’ program have their own dormitories, and it probably makes other students wish they had studied a bit more diligently in high school. Addie set the above-mentioned goals, and, with a lot of hard work, she met those goals and is reaping the rewards.

I couldn’t possibly be prouder of our granddaughter. I also couldn’t be more relieved that out of all of the colleges to which she was accepted, she chose a school that is a mere 65 miles away. Far enough away to be independent; close enough to get the occasional visit from Nana and Papa.

Best of luck, Miss Adelaide. I will pray for you every single day.

Saturday Smile: Not Fair

Cole and his sisters spent last night with us. Their dad dropped them off, and stayed a while to chat. At one point, Cole told his dad he really, really, really wanted to see the movie CODA, a movie none of us (save Cole) had heard of. Court looked it up and learned that it is a movie only showing in the theaters right now, and broke that news to Cole.

“That’s not fair,” said Cole, who wanted to watch it from his house.

“You know what, Cole?” I said. “When I was a little girl, our movie theater only showed one movie. There was only one option in our whole town.”

Cole was quiet for a second, and then replied, “That’s REALLY not fair.”

That’s life when you live with the dinosaurs.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: The Bodies in the Library

Sometimes a lightweight, easy-to-read-and-solve mystery is just what the doctor ordered. The Bodies in the Library, by Marty Wingate, does the job most agreeably.

Hayley Burke takes on the position of curator of Lady Georgiana Fowling’s First Edition library in Bath, England. The First Edition Library features books written during the so-called Golden Age of Mysteries, offering authors such as Agatha Christie and Raymond Chandler. She is hired for this position despite the fact that she has never read a single mystery story. Her expertise lies in Jane Austin novels. Still, she knows she can learn, and hopes she does so before her board of directors figures out she doesn’t know a thing about detective stories.

And then Hayley is presented with her own mystery. She has agreed to allow an Agatha Christie fan fiction writers’ group to meet weekly in the building that was once Lady Georgiana Fowling’s home, and now is the library and Hayley’s living quarters. Before she knows it, one of the members of this group is murdered. The victim is killed elsewhere and carried into the library, left for Hayley to find.

Hayley puts on her Miss Marple thinking cap and sets out to help the police solve the mystery. It is the best way to show the board of directors that she is capable of doing the curator’s job. She is faced with clues and red herrings and even a handsome love interest.

The book was a quick and fun read, as long as you can get past the fact that while the title is The Bodies in the Library, there is only one body ever found in the library — or anywhere else in the book. I presume that is because the title is so similar to an Agatha Christie novel — The Body in the Library — featuring Miss Marple. But when Hayley puts on her own Miss Marple hat, she solves the mystery.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

It’s Like a Carnival
Yesterday I took Mylee and a friend of hers to Elitches to fulfill a birthday present promise. I told her I would take her and a friend on any adventure she chooses. She chose the amusement park. I’m not one for amusement parks, I’m afraid. There is very little, however, that I wouldn’t do to make my grands happy. Her friend was a bit apprehensive about some of the rides, but Mylee talked her into going on the swings about five times. They also rode on something called The Spider. It made me nauseous just to watch, but they did fine. I will admit, however, as they took off towards the swings once again, I saw a girl lose her lunch on The Spider. It involved a lot of people wearing orange vests and some cat litter and bleach to clean up the mess. Poor little thing. As an aside, Cole was also supposed to go. However, the night before, he started showing signs of a bad cold. He was disappointed that he could not go with us, but frankly, he had to be somewhat relieved. He was white as a ghost when I came to pick up Mylee and her friend. However, when we returned around 4, I could see him jumping on the sofa through the window, and figured he felt better. He did, indeed. He had color in his face and a smile on his lips.

Whatever, It Holds Money
After several days of being around Addie pretty much nonstop, she finally admitted to me that she was amused as heck every time I referred to my billfold as, well, a billfold. “What do you call it?” I asked her. “A wallet, Nana,” she said. “It’s a wallet.” Well, I grew up calling it a billfold, and I’m too old the change now. But I was curious, so the other night I asked Jll what she calls the thing in her purse that holds credit cards and money. “A wallet,” she said. I explained why I was asking. “Men carry wallets and women carry billfolds,” I insisted. She figures it’s a regional thing because her mother — who grew up in Iowa — also calls it a billfold. “And I’ll bet Grandma Wilma called it a billfold too,” she added. Perhaps. They probably call fizzy soft drinks sodas instead of pop.

And Speaking of Old School….
Yesterday, while at Elitch Gardens with the two girls, I did what my mother always did if we were somewhere in a crowd. “Girls,” I said. “If we should get separated, make your way to the ferris wheel and we will meet there.” Mylee looked at me with a crooked smile. “Or, Nana, we could just, uh, text each other.” Oh yeah. Texting. It never occurred to me to make that most excellent suggestion. I’m pretty sure the grands think I was born during the dinosaur age.

Cobbs
Yesterday was exceedingly hot outside, making our amusement park experience somewhat unpleasant. We drank lots of water, and the girls cooled off with Dipping Dots. After dropping them off at Mylee’s house, I was driving home, trying to think about what to make for dinner. I was so exceedingly hot that I couldn’t imagine sitting down in front of a hot meal. So I stopped at the Safeway I was passing by at that moment, and bought fixings for a cobb salad. It gave me a chance to use up a tomato from my garden, and some leftover chicken. I fried some bacon, loaded on the bleu cheese, and we had a cooling feast. Bill didn’t even blink an eye at the absence of meat and potatoes.

Ciao!