Category Archives: Concepts

The Tagline: Keep it Simple, S*****

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

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cloud mountains from prop plane back to GC

Let’s be clear.

BY LOIS DESOCIO

From its birth, Julie and I wanted “The Write Side of 50” to be a forum for us 50-somethings to figure out, through our words and our art, how to navigate and shed some light on all the “stuff” that comes with being on the side of 50 that is closer to 60.

That we, “An Artist and a Journalist,” would “Demystify, Debunk and Debate the Myths Around Being in Your 50s.”

Well, eight months in, we agree that while there has been some “debate:”

“Before the Oil,There Was an Olive”
“An E-mail Ode (And Reply) to the Oyster Pearl.”

And a few (kinda) “debunks:”

“Men in Mid-Life: Puberty Revisited? Or a Time to Grow Up?”
“I Don’t Man-up for the Super Bowl.”

What the heck have we “demystified?” And what, exactly, does that mean?

One of the hardest things to write is a tagline. To compose a catchphrase that’s smart, succinct, and short. A sentence that tells you who we are, and why we’re here.

We think we overdid it the first time around. We think we might have confused some of our readers, and we, ourselves, have been collectively cringing, every day, when we log on, and that sentence is the first thing we see.

It takes a year or more for a blog to find its voice, and we 50-year-olds are not to be contained and imprisoned by a sentence. We never run out of ideas. We have the gift of perspective, the realization that we’re halfway done, and the wisdom to make the best of what’s left. (And as Bob so honestly wrote – we also know that we could drop dead any day now.)

So, it’s time to unshackle ourselves from those three Ds, and better reflect the voice that has evolved all on its own over the last eight months. We want a tagline that’s looser, less cryptic and not wordy. (And no more alliteration, please!) So let’s just say it:

“This is What Happens When You Hit the Right Side of Middle Age.”

Stay tuned. We are blowing open our vault, and bringing on some inspiring new contributors. Anything goes.

Staying Cool from 5 to 50 and Beyond

08 Monday Jul 2013

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AC...and the most refreshing drive you'll ever experience.

AC…and the most refreshing drive you’ll ever experience.

By Frank Terranella

Being over 50 means remembering when there was no Internet, no cell phones, no ATMs and no cable television. It means remembering a time when seat belts were optional equipment in cars, and most cars did not have air conditioning.

I was reminded of this last item recently while driving on a 90-degree day. Since almost all cars today have air conditioning, I saw no one whose windows were down. And yet I can remember driving with the windows down. As kids we would even stick our hands and (if our parents weren’t paying attention) our heads out the window like the family dog.

It was a great sensation to have the hot air rushing by – sort of like a do-it-yourself fan.
And of course, back in the ‘50s and ‘60s fans were everywhere in the summer. We had them in our bedrooms at home and in our classrooms at school. They didn’t do much good, but it was better than nothing.

A few years ago I was asked by a young boy, “What did you do before air conditioning.” I answered truthfully, “We were hot!” It’s similar to the question, “What did you watch when there were only seven TV channels?” Answer: “We watched the seven channels and were thankful for them.”

The point is that before we got air conditioning in our cars and in our homes, we simply made do with fans and cold drinks. That was what made summer different from winter. We experienced the full force of the season back then, and we survived it. I swear that a major part of the attraction of going to the movies back then was the air conditioning.

Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no desire to go back to those days any more than I have a desire to return to a time without the Internet. I was thrilled when my father had an electrician install an air conditioner in our house. I felt more civilized when I bought my first car in 1976 and it had air conditioning.

In fact, if you’re over 50 you may remember an Easter when the temperature was in the 90s. That was 1976 and I had just brought home my new Pontiac. I reveled in riding down the road with my windows up and the air conditioning blasting out cool air. That thrill alone was worth the car payments. I remember driving with my brother and pointing out all the cars with their windows down, the poor souls without air conditioning. Of course, I had my comeuppance soon afterwards when the air conditioning broke down and I had to take the car to the dealer – with the windows down!

I am struck by how much we over-50s have come to depend on things like cell phones, ATMs and air conditioning that we lived without years ago. My mother, who is 85, hibernates most of the summer in her air conditioning. She never loved the heat, but now she’s terrorized by it. Air conditioning makes summer bearable for her. She also has a cell phone.

Being over 50 means that you have some context when (such as in a blackout) life hits you with a deprivation of some modern convenience. We may not like losing a modern convenience like a cell phone, but we can deal with it. We simply go back to 1970s mode and find a pay phone. But no matter what else happens, we just hope to God they don’t take away our air conditioning!

To Brew 5000-Year-Old Sumerian Beer, Follow the Poem

01 Monday Jul 2013

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Egyptian beer.

Egyptian beer.

BY JULIE SEYLER

The other day I came across an article in The New York Times about a craft brewery relying on a 19th century B.C. poem called, “Hymn to Ninkasi,” from Sumeria to create a new brew.

As a subscriber to the theory that everything old is new again, I was intrigued. Not because alcohol was part of the menu thousands of years ago. This is a well-known fact since every movie set in ancient Rome has a scene devoted to drunken debauchery and endless goblets of flowing wine. But I had no idea that there was a recorded document dedicated to a goddess of beer. Her name was Ninkasi, and according to one translation of the mysterious pictograms found on the clay tablet, Ninkasi was worshipped for her beer-making skills. She handled the dough with a big shovel, watered the malt, and spread cooked mash on large reed mats. The poem ends with this stanza:

When you pour out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.
Ninkasi, you are the one who pours out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.

So the cradle of civilization was also the source of the first craft beer.

An Internet search revealed Ninkasi is not obscure amongst the brewing set. So let’s raise a cold one to those on the quest to perfect her recipe.

BREAKFAST AND BEER

Spines, Heads, Menopause and Fish

28 Friday Jun 2013

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FISH HEADS SEATTLE

Photo by Julie Seyler.

BY LOIS DESOCIO

The two fish pictured above, whether staged for sale, or captured in their final moments, gills packed, mouths agape in a gasp for “air,” moved me with its perceived spirit of, “Don’t give up!”

I’m drawn to fish faces, whether viewed in tanks, or when snorkeling and swimming with them. There’s something in their eyes. Perhaps because they are always open.

When my kids were little, we had a goldfish, named Cootie, which had a nice big tank all to himself. (We decided it was a he.) We loved him. He would swim to the edge of the tank and nostril-up to the glass whenever we were in the room, and stay there. I assumed he was happy as a clam, because he was always smiling. And he lived so long, that he grew to be the size of a carp. When he died, we buried him in the back yard.

There are barrels of studies that suggest a connection between fish and people, including:

We owe our heads to fish. (In utero, our eyes are on the side of our heads.)
Fish were the first to have a backbone.
They make friends.
They help each other when one is in danger.

And especially fascinating:

Female guppies go through menopause. (Cool, that doctors recommend fish oil for easing symptoms of human menopause.)

So, let’s give a Friday salute to the two fish out of water above, which were undoubtedly sold, then eaten. Let’s, instead, weigh them on the scale of our homogeneity of the human kind.

There’s No Tiptoeing Around The Hair on Our Heads

13 Thursday Jun 2013

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Hair...a mind of its own. Photocollage by Julie Seyler

Hair…a mind of its own. Photocollage by Julie Seyler

BY JULIE SEYLER AND LOIS DESOCIO

The blog has weighed in on eyebrows, so why not meander onto other post-50 hair issues? Like the way it morphs into a foreign object in strange places (ear and nose hair, mostly on men), or pulls a disappearing act (where’d the hairline go?), or simply re-invents itself from a thick flow of trestly curls into a plate of limp spaghetti strands.

There are thousands of documented scientific, genetic, chemical, hormonal explanations for these unsuspected changes, but they do not cure the shock of the switcheroo. And just as you get accustomed to one specific change, such as adapting to fine hair after a lifetime of dense curls, it becomes even finer – so fine that if you touch it, it ends up in your hand instead of staying nicely in place on the top of your head. Aging is body betrayal on tiptoes.

Here, plucked from The U.S. National Library of Medicine and The National Institutes of Health, is the science that gets to the root of aging hair:

Hair thickness change. Hair is made of many protein strands. A single hair has a normal life between 2 and 6 years. That hair then falls out and is replaced with a new hair. How much hair you have on your body and head is also determined by your genes.

“… nearly everyone has some hair loss with aging. The rate of hair growth also slows.

Hair strands become smaller and have less pigment. So the thick, coarse hair of a young adult eventually becomes thin, fine, light-colored hair. Many hair follicles stop producing new hairs.

Men may start showing signs of baldness by the time they are 30 years old. Many men are nearly bald by age 60. A type of baldness related to the male hormone testosterone is called male-pattern baldness. Hair may be lost at the temples or at the top of the head.

Women can develop a similar type of baldness as they age. This is called female-pattern baldness. Hair becomes less dense and the scalp may become visible.

As you age, your body and facial hair are also lost. But hairs that remain may become coarser. Women may lose body hair. Facial hair may get coarser, especially on the chin and around the lips. Men may grow longer and coarser eyebrow, ear, and nose hair.”

Phooey. It doesn’t have to be that way. Errant nose, ear, chin, and hand! hair can be plucked and snipped, shaved and sheared. But here’s the dirt on the hair on your head: Don’t wash it. You can still shower, of course. But just rinse. And run your fingers through it under the spout. Massage the oils out and throughout. Shun the shampoo part starting on Monday, and by Thursday, you will have the hair you had in your 30s. A little grease adds heft and sheen. There’s a reason that the hair follicles, those sebaceous glands, are full of natural oils. Keep any loose hairs in place by not brushing them. Instead: Scrunch. Tousle. Repeat.

And research supports that, along with good nutrition, exercise will keep hair healthy. So, hit the gym, steer clear of shampoo, and add some sweat to the grit. Skeptics might imagine that this combination would lead to nothing but a bad hair day of “limp spaghetti strands.”  No –  you will, instead, sport “a thick flow of trestly curls.”

Can the Brakes be Applied on Silly Business Names?

05 Wednesday Jun 2013

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brake bob silly

Part of the pan*o*rama of silly signage on our roadsides. Photos by Bob Smith.

BY BOB SMITH

Why do people think it’s useful to name their businesses using puns and wordplay? It doesn’t make them memorable; it makes them silly. And I happen upon them so often. Last Sunday, as I drove through a semi-rural area of Passaic County, New Jersey, I came across a spate of silly-named businesses. First there was BRAKE*O*RAMA. As we all know from reading Wikipedia, “Rama,” is the seventh avatar of the god Vishnu in Hinduism, considered by some to be the supreme being. So it makes perfect sense to have a car repair shop named after him.

That same god has also inspired a floor covering store in Neptune, New Jersey called RUGARAMA, and a chain of door and window stores called WINDOWRAMA. Years ago there was even a beauty shop in Asbury Park named OH!HARRIET’S GLAMOUR-RAMA. I think Rama as a business-naming convention is on the wane, having been supplanted in recent years by the ubiquitous DEPOT.

But it survives in Haskell, New Jersey (named after the first avatar of teenage wiseguys from the ’60s – Eddie Haskell). Then there was FABRICADABRA, an apparently magical fabric and interior decorating store. fabric bob silly

It had an ugly, bulbous, green awning, and didn’t look magical at all. A block away from that was THE MEATING PLACE, a butcher shop that I suppose might also be the local pickup bar. I was late for a meating (I was en route to a barbeque, after all), so I couldn’t stop to get a photo of that.

Finally there was PASTABILITYS, featuring a concrete bunker facade, and the chance for al-fresco dining on plastic seats in the parking lot. The possibilities seemed – well, frankly, limited. But the name? Totally unique. And silly.bob pasta silly

When My Spouse Cheats, It’s “On” Video

04 Tuesday Jun 2013

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Darling, I have a confession. Me and the DVR are dating.

Darling, I have a confession. Me and the DVR are dating. By Julie Seyler.

By FRANK TERRANELLA

Modern video technology has revolutionized the way we watch television. The digital video recorder (DVR) has made it so easy to record television that many people no longer watch anything “live.” It’s easier to watch later (even just 20 minutes later), and then zip through the commercials.

This has had two unanticipated social repercussions. First, since most people do not watch television when it is broadcast, it’s no longer possible to have water-cooler discussions at work of the previous night’s programs because many people have not yet watched them. And a related phenomenon is the new form of marital infidelity called “video cheating.”

What is video cheating and how serious a problem is it? Video cheating is watching a show alone rather than waiting to watch it later with your significant other. How serious a problem is it? Oh, it’s very serious. It’s a sign of pure selfishness, like finishing the last of the chocolate ice cream without offering to share it.

Back before video recording, we all had to watch the shows live or not at all. We all found out together who shot JR. You either were in front of a television set on Tuesday, August 29, 1967, or you missed the series finale of “The Fugitive,” and probably still don’t know the fate of the one-armed man. The VCR brought some freedom from the network schedule, but the DVR made recoding shows to watch later (so-called “time shifting”) a way of life. And so today, we rarely ever watch live television except for sports and news.

But with great power over the television viewing experience came great responsibility. The shows you formerly watched together with your spouse now could be watched without him or her. This led to a silent pact wherein each partner agreed to wait for the other before viewing so that the former live TV sharing experience could be replicated. While the rest of the world was on week five of “Mad Men,” in our house, we could be on week four, or even week three. But as long as we watched it together, it didn’t matter.

Breaking the pact could be as simple as watching the show live while your spouse is out. The absent spouse comes home, and the following scene is played out:

Spouse 1:  “You missed a great episode of ‘Burn Notice.’”

Spouse 2 (voice rising): “What do you mean I missed it? We’re supposed to watch that together. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Spouse 1 (apologetic): “I’m sorry, the DVR changed the channel I was watching and started recording ‘Burn Notice.’ What did you want me to do, shut off the TV?”

Spouse 2 (outraged): “Yes!!! That’s OUR show. You can’t watch it without me. What’s wrong with you?”

(Spouse 2 storms out of the room to pout.)

Video cheating – it’s a terrible thing that technology has wrought. And don’t get me started about spouses hijacking the Netflix queue and refusing a friend request from their spouse on Facebook. It’s a miracle the divorce rate isn’t 80%.

Our Cabin Brings Back Fever, As in the Spring Kind

17 Friday May 2013

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parisandcabin 159

The years spent fixing up our ramshackle cabin, nurtured a 30-year marriage.

BY JEANNETTE GOBEL

A sudden realization came to me not long after we purchased our little cabin up at Priest Lake Idaho. This place was not like any standard construction. It was a “Frankencabin.” The inspector’s report must have been 10 pages long. It hit me that a project of this magnitude would be great for our 30-year-long marriage. Not just the common goal of refurbishing the place, but the romantic aspect as well. The benefits have definitely outweighed the negatives. Would most people take on this project? I think not.

Our family had been spending lots of vacation time up at Priest Lake in northern Idaho. This lake is probably one of the most gorgeous spots in the US. My grandparents used to bring my mother and her sisters up in the 1930s. I visited almost every weekend as a child growing up in the ’60s and ’70s.

In the early years of our marriage, we camped. When camping felt like hell as we aged, renting cabins became the norm. We loved everything the lake had to offer. Hiking the many trails, exploring the lake by power boat, or kayaking can fill many a day. One ritual we always look forward to is the boat ride through the mile-long thoroughfare between Lower Priest and Upper Priest Lake. More times than not, we have seen moose drinking at the shore, and ospreys tending to their young in treetop nests.

Financially, it made sense to buy this place. My husband Kevin and I bought the cabin when our youngest was a senior in college. We had been paying rent for the kids while they were at the university. Since we weren’t going to have rents to pay in the college town anymore, we should invest this money in a lake place of our own.

Since it is a summer-use-only place, we anticipate with much excitement, the precise weekend in late May when we open it up for the season. Not only is it an event that has to be done, it is a great romantic weekend. Closing up in the early autumn is also a time for an intimate dinner at nearby Elkin’s, a four-star restaurant.

parisandcabin 177

Built with a little spit, a little spackle, some steak and chardonnay.

I believe that a marriage survives on chemistry and common goals. We still have the chemistry, but the cabin sure provided us with many challenging goals and priorities. First up was rebuilding the exterior. Priming and painting took one full summer. But does a grilled steak and a bottle of red wine taste like heaven after a hard day of labor. The place looks like a real cabin now.

Next up was repairing water damage, and painting the interior. That was another feat of tenacity for the second summer of ownership. I believe we were more motivated by scrumptious meals, and wine on the deck, or a scenic hike on one the thousands of trails. Other projects have included tree felling, a new roof (which we hired out), bringing the fireplace up to code. We rest easy now knowing that a fire in our woodstove won’t result in a conflagration in the forest. I believe we had grilled salmon with chardonnay the night that work was over with.

Just last year, our entire section of the lake got sewers. (Yay! No more holding tank.) We had plenty of prep work for this to happen. Estimates had to be procured, decisions made as to which contractor won the bid, and then the actual work could begin. Is it ever a relief to flush the toilet, and not worry about backups in the pipes anymore.

On our way to the local hardware store for project supplies, we followed a young moose for a quarter of a mile until he disappeared into the forest. One last project to complete the big hook-up was to connect the cabin plumbing to the actual line. Kevin, being amazing, did this himself. It took most of a week. Boy, did we eat well that week. Cocktails by the fire pit outside at sunset tasted especially decadent as we watched a doe slowly make her way through our front yard.

We have certainly reaped many benefits from ownership of our lake place. Starting with a nurtured marriage. Not to mention projects accomplished, the physical activity, creative cuisine, and a place for retreat from the stress of life.

How Freud (and Montgomery Clift) Unlocked My Psyche

16 Thursday May 2013

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Sigmund Freud and Montgomery Clift.

Sigmund Freud and Montgomery Clift. By Julie Seyler.


BY JULIE SEYLER

Does anyone remember coming home from school and turning on Channel 9 at 4:00 to watch the Million Dollar Movie? When I was in my Clark Gable movie phase, I was able to catch a myriad of his pre and post “Gone with the Wind films” like, “Test Pilot” with Myrna Loy, and “China Seas” with Jean Harlow, while lying on my flower bedspread eating forbidden potato chips. But this was not the only station where we could indulge ourselves in Hollywood fantasy. Before Turner Classic Movies, there was also NBC Saturday Night at the Movies inviting us to an evening of at home entertainment. Anyway, this is a long-winded segue into to a movie I discovered when I was about 12 or so.

I remember it was a Saturday evening, and I was home babysitting my younger sisters. After the Swanson’s Turkey TV dinner (the ubiquitous fare on nights when my parents dined out), I settled in to watch the movie of the week. It was “Freud,” which I just learned was directed by John Huston. It starred a bearded Montgomery Clift as Dr. Sigmund Freud. The plot revolves around a woman patient riddled with issues – she is repressed, depressed, and hysterical but there are no physical symptoms that can explain her illness. Freud takes her on as a patient and after two hour’s worth of hypnosis, and lying on Freud’s famous couch, she is cured. Freud’s theories of the unconscious have helped unlock her buried memories and released her from emotional bondage so she can blossom again in the world. Hollywood schmaltz, no doubt, but it turned me on to the power of dreams; the notion that childhood events can shape one’s psyche. And rehashing it all can be a wondrous experience. A few years later, this was confirmed when I saw, “The Three Faces of Eve” with Joanne Woodward’s academy award winning portrayal of a woman with three separate and distinct personalities that had sprouted in response to a traumatic childhood event. Two hours later, she is completely cured by Lee J. Cobb.

These movies simplistically collapsed psychological theory into a 120 minute drama, but the message they contained – that the hidden psyche is a complex and perplexing phenomenon – resonated for me as a teenager. I cannot say that all these years later I have changed my opinion much.

Did the movies lead me to embrace the phenomenon of the psyche? I mean, Montgomery Clift as Freud is a pretty sexy role model. Or was I destined to discover the curious case of the unconscious mind, regardless. It does not matter. I remain a firm believer that the unconscious is way more powerful than what we think we “know.” In fact, I think if scientists could figure out a way to harness the unconscious, the energy problems of the world would be solved.

freud 2

Rolling With the Zeitgeist

01 Wednesday May 2013

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The spirit of the times. Watercolor ink drawing. Julie Seyler.

The spirit of the times. Watercolor ink drawing. Julie Seyler.

BY JULIE SEYLER

Zeitgeist is a fabulous word. Not only does it begin with the letter Z, but it rolls off the tongue, and has a definition worthy of punditry. In broad terms it means, “the spirit of the times.” An iced, dry martini with a single olive is a zeitgeist moment of the early 21st century. Let me revise that – that was more likely a zeitgeist moment of the mid-1950s. Chocolate martinis, dirty martinis swimming in olives, and pomegranitinis define now.

These meanderings make me hark back to what defined the zeitgeist of the ’70s, when we later-50-year-olds, approaching 60 year olds, and dare I say it, already approaching 70 year olds, were the generation shaping the zeitgeist. Today, that generation, “us,” is the soon-to-be-demographic definition of “senior citizen.”

We all react differently to being on the right side of 50. I have come to refer to this new/next stage as no longer being in Kansas a la Judy Garland in “The Wizard of Oz.” I straddle the fence, desperately clinging to youth, and slowly accepting the fact that I am no longer in any way “young.” And this leads me to ponder: What was the spirit of those times – the ’70s?

Everyone has their own memory bucket, but for me, I hear slogans: “Sex Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll;” “Make Peace, Not War;” “If he’s old enough to fight for his country, he’s old enough to vote.” There were movements: The Black Panther Movement, the Peace Movement, and the one I glommed on to – the Feminist Movement. I was a devotee of Gloria Steinem, but am ashamed to admit that I never read Betty Friedan’s book, “The Feminist Mystique.” For me, the Supreme Court’s decision in Roe v. Wade balancing the interests of the mother, the child, and the state in determining the legal right to have a safe termination of pregnancy was a cause for celebration. (Of course I am flabbergasted that anyone could even conceive of a desire to overturn that decision. It boggles the mind. But that’s another blog.) That’s my partial list of the world around me between 1968-1977.

It all seems so safe and innocent, although my mother reminded me that those years were also characerized by a great deal of violence. I’d forgotten the race riots and Kent State and the utter devastation of lives wrought by the Vietnam War.