‘Do You Feel Old Yet?’

“Do you feel old yet” asked one of my Sequoyah County Fun Filosophers this week.

Well, after reading the following, Yes I Do! What a difference 50 years can make!

Hope my faithful one or two readers (most likely my children) don’t feel old yet after reading the following.

-1966: Long hair   

-2016: Longing for hair

-1966: Acid rock   

-2016: Acid reflux

-1966: Moving to California because it's cool

-2016: Moving to Arizona because it's warm

-1966: Trying to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor

-2016: Trying NOT to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor

-1966: Seeds and stems

-2016: Roughage 

-1966: Hoping for a BMW

-2016: Hoping for a BM

-1966: Going to a new, hip joint

-2016: Receiving a new hip joint

-1966: Rolling Stones

-2016: Kidney Stones

-1966: Screw the system

-2016: Upgrade the system

-1966: Disco

-2016: Costco

-1966: Parents begging you to get your hair cut.

-2016: Children begging you to get their heads shaved.

-1966: Passing the drivers' test

-2016: Passing the vision test

-1966: Whatever

-2016: Depends

  

Just in case you weren't feeling old enough today, the following will certainly change things.

Each year the staff at Beloit College in Wisconsin puts together a list to try to give the faculty a sense of the mindset of this year's incoming freshmen.

Here's this year's list:

-The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1998. They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.

-They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.

-They never heard: "Where's the Beef?" or "I'd walk a mile for a Camel.”

-They do not care who shot J. R. and have no idea who J. R. even is.

-McDonald's never came in foam containers.

-Their lifetime has always included AIDS. 

 -Bottle caps have always been screw off and plastic.

-The CD was introduced seven years before they were born.

-They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.

-They can't imagine what hard contact lenses are.

-Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave.

-“Happy Days’ was cancelled before they were born.

-They have never encountered a TV with a dial or a rotary telephone.

Feeling old yet?

Yep.

Funny Filosopher Shares Her Text Codes

My Funny Filosophers are at it again.

Sharing her thoughts with me this time is a friend of about the same age. (NO, she’s older than me – HA!) What is amazing to me is she and I both like computers, unlike some others of our ages. Oh, we don’t like running them. Computers are kind of like cars. I just want it to do its thing, what it is supposed to do. If it doesn’t, I want a good computer mechanic. Thank goodness I’ve got one.

My (older, ha-ha) friend even knows more about computers than I do, which I respect. She is really into emails and texting, so she must know the abbreviation codes. I don’t even know all the codes. LOL, or laughing out loud, is about the extent of my abbreviated code use.

But friend needs her codes, and this week shared the codes for us older computer users. (She’s older – Ha!)

Young people have theirs.

Now Seniors have their own texting codes:

* ATD - At the Doctor's

* BFF - Best Friends Funeral

* BTW - Bring the Wheelchair

* BYOT - Bring Your Own Teeth

* CBM - Covered by Medicare

* CUATSC - See You at the Senior Center

* DWI - Driving While Incontinent

* FWIW - Forgot Where I Was

* GGPBL - Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low

* GHA - Got Heartburn Again

* HGBM - Had Good Bowel Movement

* LMDO - Laughing My Dentures Out

* LOL - Living on Lipitor

* OMSG - Oh My! Sorry, Gas

* TOT - Texting on Toilet

* WAITT - Who Am I Talking To?

*GTG: Gotta Groan

*TGIF: Thank Goodness It's Four (Four O’clock - Early Bird Special)

*FWB: Friend With Betablockers

*FYI: For Your Indigestion

*TTYL: Talk To You Louder

*MILF: Meal I'd Like To Forget

*MGAD: My Grandson's A Doctor

*SUS: Speak Up, Sonny

*WIWYA: When I Was Your Age

*GOML: Get Off My Lawn

Hope these help. GGLKI (Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking in!)

Thank you (older) friend and computer whiz. If I could remember all these abbreviated codes, I would be more than happy to use them. 

Unfortunately, guess I’ll have to stick with just one – LOL. And you definitely made me LOL. (And that means Laughing Out Loud NOT Little Old Lady!)

Springified...and Loving It!

I’ve been Springified.

That’s my new word for that old notion of Spring Fever. Spring Fever sounds like a disease. I contend that longing for spring is NOT a disease. It is a condition of the human soul that doesn’t like winter. Oh I can take winter. I can take about a week of winter during the week of Christmas. I don’t even mind a White Christmas if my family has managed to arrive all in one piece for the family get-together.

After that, let’s go Spring.

My state of being Springified is assisted greatly by the State of Oklahoma. Oklahoma weather did its best for me last weekend, when the temps hit 70. Yes, I spent nearly the whole weekend out in the yard, and in the dirt. I love dirt. Dirt makes things grow.

So I planted some bulbs. Was supposed to plant those bulbs last fall, but they arrived by mail at Christmas time, and, as you may have already guessed, I was otherwise occupied at Christmas due to four grandkids and 10 great-grands. Oh joy.

So I planted the bulbs last weekend and am hoping for the best. But then I ran out of dirt. I’ve often wondered how a small-patch-owner (me) can run out of dirt on 10 acres. Well, my bulbs deserve good dirt, name-brand dirt, expensive dirt, so I constantly try to improve my flower bed with better dirt. It works, sort of. It would help if my thumb were greener, but I won’t let a little black thumb deter me from my gardening hobby.

So it’s back to the garden center this weekend for more dirt. I only hope my bulbs don’t mind arriving in that good dirt just a little bit late.

Oh how the garden center calls me. And all that beautiful stuff in the garden centers. Plants, and seeds, and tools, and, of course, dirt. I know! I know! It’s too early to plant anything. I force myself to bypass all those beautiful plants, many of which have already sprouted. I know that, if I set plants outside now, that last frost, which is certain, will kill any plants I can’t resist, dead.

But oh how I want to add to the strawberry bed, and put the leaf lettuce and radish seeds in the ground now. OK. I confess. Yes, I bought lettuce and radish seeds. But they are still in their packages. I have contained myself, barely.

In the meantime, I plan. That’s what gardeners do in the winter. They plan. A new flower bed is already ready, and this weekend my container garden will get revisited. (With a few hours off for the Super Bowl of course.) Getting ready for the garden is nearly as good as planting the garden. And my darling seeds will remain in their paper packages until at least March 1, or maybe sooner if I can’t contain myself.

And best of all, while I prepare the beds and the containers for spring, I will be out in the backyard, soaking up some Oklahoma sunshine, even though it’s a bit crisp yet. Because that sunshine is getting me Springified! 

Acid Comments Can Be So True

Good grief! Friends have started making snippy comments. I’m not sure if these comments are directed straight at me, or if friends are beginning to feel the effects of age themselves. These comments are from Acid Aunty. I am not an Acid Aunty or even an Acid Granny. I do not snip at my grandkids.

So at first I was a bit offended. Then I read them. Aha! These are comments are true and sometimes hit the nail on the head. I loved ‘em. Hope you do too.

-I never use my turn signal. It’s nobody’s business where I’m going.

-If life is a journey, mine is between the refrigerator and the computer. (Me: And the couch.)

-When I have a headache, I take two aspirin and keep away from children. That’s what it says to do on the bottle!

-Be nice to nurses. They keep the doctors from killing you. (Me: I have two granddaughters, both nurses, who swear this is true.)

-Snow White had the right idea. She moved in with seven guys, who went to work every day, and when she had to clean she whistled and the birds did her chores. (Me: I’ve been working on those birds, filling my bird feeders. They sure do eat a lot.)

-My book club only reads wine labels.

-Instead of cleaning the house, I turn the lights off. (Me: Clean house? At my age? Why bother.)

-I drink coffee for your protection. (Me: Really, really true.)

-Instead of a sign that says, “Do not disturb,” I want a sign that says, “Already disturbed. Proceed with caution.” (Me: Better make some more coffee.)

-Sometimes I panic and think there’s a crazy person in my house. Then I relax. It’s just me.

-I took up photography because it’s the only way I can shoot people and cut off their heads without going to jail. (Me: That is not why I took up photography. But it’s a good idea.)

-I’m on a nut free diet. I avoid people who drive me nuts.

-Age is only a number. Weight is only a number. I hate numbers.

-On some days the supply of legitimate swear words is insufficient. (Me: I have been known to make up swear words. But not because I’ve run out. Swearing was not allowed in my Christian childhood home. If I had to emphasize something, really emphasize it, I had to make it up.”

-I always avoid the things that make me fat, likes scales, mirrors and photographs.

-I always offer two meals – take it or leave it. (Me: Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.)

Have a great weekend everyone!

Country Philosopher Imparts Opinions

My Country Philosopher has published again. I find his thoughts so provocative, that I can’t resist sharing. So here you are. . .the best mind meanderings of Sequoyah County’s Country Philosopher. (With a few of my own thoughts thrown in.)

-You know that little thing inside your head that keeps you from saying things you shouldn’t? Yeah, I don’t have one of those. (Me: Can’t count the times I’ve had to apologize for those things that just pop out of my mouth!)

-Every day, thousands of innocent plants are killed by vegetarians. Help end the violence. Eat bacon! (Me: They say plants can scream, and I’ve often thought why isn't that pointed out to vegetarians?)

-The fact that there’s a highway to hell and only a stairway to heaven says a lot about anticipated traffic numbers. (Me: Oh dear! Never thought of that before.)

-My people skills are just fine. It’s my tolerance to idiots that needs work. (Me: Based on previous thought, am now praying for tolerance.)

-I’m only responsible for what I say, not for what you understand. (Me: So true.)

-So when is this “Old enough to know better” supposed to kick in? (Me: Are we referring to me or my children?)

- Have you ever listened to someone for a while and wondered, “Who ties your shoelaces for you?” (Me: Are we talking about presidential candidates?)

-I prefer not to think before speaking. I like being just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth. (Me: Oh, we’re discussing Presidential candidates’ speeches.)

-Be careful when you follow the masses. Sometimes the “M” is silent! (Me: So we are discussing the current presidential race again!)

-I can explain it to you but I can’t understand it for you. (Me: A reference I’m sure to my lack of computer and smart phone skills.)

-I hate it when the voices in my head go silent. I never know what they are planning. (Me: I can supply psychiatrists’ phone numbers!)

-I’m not lazy. I just really enjoy doing nothing. (Me: Oh yeah!)

-When you’re dead, you don’t know you’re dead. It’s only difficult for others. It’s the same way when you’re stupid. (Me: I know I heard a presidential candidate use the word “stupid.”)

-If people could read my mind I’d get punched in the face a lot. (Me: Keeping mouth shut!)

-Calm down, take a deep breath, and hold it for about 20 minutes. (Me: Ha, ha. I can count.)

-I never argue. I just explain why I’m right. (Me: Sounds like something my children would say.)

-I speak my mind because it hurts to bit my tongue all the time. (Me: Working hard on keeping mouth shut.)

-Don’t confuse my personality with my attitude. My personality is who I am. My attitude depends on who you are! (Me: Are we discussing the presidential race again!?!)

Powerball and Football

It seems our lives, at least mine, has been all Powerball and football lately.

No, I didn’t win that $1.5 billion Powerball on Wednesday. I did have four tickets, purchased with the money I won at the previous drawing last Saturday. That drawing left me with one red Powerball which I promptly reinvested. Should have kept that $12. But I’m only out $3, so I’m not very far in the hole.

Still, it’s fun to fantasize about “What I would do if I won the lottery.” For the past two weeks, that’s been everyone’s favorite topic. What would I do? Pay the bills and go to Disney World!

Now football is another matter, and yes, I confess, I spent most of last weekend glued to the TV, hoping the best for my favorite teams.

And I plan to do the same Saturday and Sunday, even though there are only half the games to watch. Yes, I am pro football addicted. So much so that some of my acquaintances laugh out loud at me in the summer when I complain that “I NEED FOOTBALL!”

On the other hand, I think my two sons are quietly proud that their mom can talk a little bit about football and not shame them when doing so. Hey, it runs in the family. I got my love of football from my dear Dad who spent every fall Sunday afternoon in front of the TV. He taught me to love the game.

That’s not true of all women.

Phyllis Diller once said, “The reason women don’t play football is because 11 of them would never wear the same outfit in public.”

Erma Bombeck had even worse opinions of football. She said, “Thanksgiving dinners take 18 hours to prepare. They are consumed in 12 minutes. Half time takes 12 minutes. This is not a coincidence.”

And, “If a man watches three football games in a row, he should be declared legally dead.”

And, “The Rose Bowl is the only bowl I’ve ever seen that I didn’t have to clean.”

But oh how times have changed since I was a young woman falling in love with football. Now women and football are all the rage. A recent report indicated that American football is only growing because women have begun watching.

Hey, women sportscasters now line the sidelines to interview coaches and players. One woman has been hired as a coach and another has put on a zebra-striped uniform. There is a female football league, I think, and Sandra Bullock knows all about college football in “The Blind Side.”

And oh yeah, manufacturers have figured out that women are the ones who buy those fans football jerseys, and have begun making them just for the female fans. I know, because I am one and I shop. And yes, I have team shirts.

Women are giving a voice to their love of football too. One of my favorites is, “Real women watch football. But beautiful, smart, sexy, totally awesome women love the Denver Broncos” and Peyton Manning. And that would pretty much be me. I mean about watching football and loving the Broncos and Peyton Manning. No comment on beautiful, smart and sexy.

Another comment describes me more accurately. “All spring and fall, she was a classy lady. Then football season started.”

Well, I shall try to keep my class. Congratulations to all those Powerball winners, even though it wasn’t me. And congratulations to all those who win football games this weekend, as long as it isn’t the Patriots. Go teams Go!

Too Dumb for a Smart Phone

I’m too dumb for a smart phone. I like my dumb phone. It’s small, simple and sweet.

But, it’s hard to turn down a Christmas gift from Darling Daughter, who decided I needed a smart phone, and delivered to me a top-of-the-line phone for Christmas.

She’s not the only one who thought I need a smart phone. Everyone I know, from the boss to the family, has advised me I need a smart phone. Smart phones have so many more options than my little dumb phone, I was told. One of those was the fact my little dumb phone wouldn’t, or couldn’t, take or receive photos. It also wouldn’t talk to some other phones, which we could never figure out.

It does have good attributes. People have complemented me on my tiny cell phone and wanted to know where I got it. Apparently the new smart phones are too big. My dumb phone size has come full circle. My dumb phone is simple. Three or four buttons and you’re done. And I can text so good my grandchildren brag on me. Unfortunately, I’ve had my little dumb phone for so long, and love to text so much, that my fingernails have chipped the coverings right off the letter pad. And sweet little dumb phone has no long, complicated contract I must adhere too. Pay up and you’re done.

Now here comes my new smart phone. As for as cost goes, my little dumb phone can’t beat it. Smart phone is free. OK. I’m gonna’ save some money.

Smart phone is huge, but I can still get it in my purse. OK. That is acceptable.

But it has all these buttons. Hundreds of buttons. And the first night all it did was blink at me. Nobody has figured out why it blinked at me. Seems my smart phone’s buttons are different from other smart phone buttons. After an extensive search on the internet, it was finally revealed that that little green blinking button was to tell me I had an alert. An alert to what I have still not figured out. It could possibly have been an email or text.

Mail. I live by text messaging. I love texts. They are short, sweet and to the point. Smart phone has tiny little keyboard my fingers are apparently too big to hit correctly. Have not yet been able to send a correctly spelled text message.

Then I found the microphone button. Wow. I can talk my texts. And I do. I talk and talk and talk. I love that microphone button. Can text forever and not type a thing. Friends and family might not like my new texts, cause I go on and on and on. Family has learned they should not give grandma a microphone, cause she won’t shut up. Sometimes smart phone doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying, and sends a bit of nonsense, but I also found the correct-it button, so I’m good.

Will confess I’m still having a bit of trouble figuring out how to answer a phone call, but I will eventually figure it out.

Funny thing though, I thought smart phone would come with a how-to manual. Nope. No little complicated book on what to do or how to use all those other buttons. So back to the internet, where I found out that if you want a manual on how to use your new smart phone, you have to pay for it. What!?! Yep. $20 or more. No thank you. I’ll do this myself!

So off into the new-to-me technology world I go, armed now with a smart phone that is smarter than me. “Don’t worry mom,” Darling Daughter encourages me. “You will figure it out. We all did.” Her final bit of advice was, “Ignore all those buttons. You don’t need them.”

And I’m gonna’ take that advice. I can text, surf the internet (oh joy), listen to music, take photos and talk at family and friends. Hey, maybe I’m not so dumb after all.