She Said
Have you ever wondered why I get drowsy while you're talking? Sometimes the steady flow and rhythm of your voice lulls me into dreamland. Now I know why. Research actually shows that lectures (yes, many times you do that) work AGAINST the human brain. Brains require workouts to learn and grow while lectures foster a couch potato mentality. After about four to eight minutes of listening to someone talk, even the brightest brains will seek another adventure.
Isn't it funny that teaching practices haven't adapted to active learning that inspires creativity and invention? Did you really enjoy all of the lectures that teachers provided while you were in school? If a person doesn't use the information stored in his active memory or if it isn't applied in some way, it evaporates to make room for incoming data.
I've always felt like lengthy discussions about the same topic are useless, which brings us back to you. You tend to repeat the same thing half a dozen time in order to make your point. No wonder I tune you out. My brain is ready for some new information.
It really is true that opposites attract, though. I'm not a compulsive talker, and you are. I don't talk unless I have something to say that I think might interest you; on the other hand, you tell everything you know . . . even if it's about yourself.
You are the most honorable person I know, and you admit that you like to talk a lot. That's what makes you such a good PR person. Plus, it sure does take the burden of providing small talk off of me. We've even laughed about numbering your stories so when you begin one, I can say “Oh yes, that's number 212. Let me finish it for you!”
He Said
To answer your question about being drowsy while I am talking . . . we need to be a bit
more honest with ourselves, don't you think? You get drowsy everywhere— the movies,
my mother's house and I am not sure that you have ever seen a full-length play in
your life. So it is not the flow and rhythm of my voice that lulls you to sleep. It is any
steady and rhythmic voice that takes you to your Nirvana.
What you consider“lectures” are some of my best comments about facts concerning your life or my life, depending on the topic. I have noticed that every time we talk about something that
you don't like or agree with, you turn a deaf ear and tune me out. Usually after one
of our long conversations, your comments that follow are about some
subject that never entered either of our conversations, leading me to believe that
you were not listening, or that you were concentrating on your next idea or presentation.
You tune me out because you don't want to hear the truth, or the truth is bothering
you in some way.
I still love you, though, and the reason we may have been attracted to each other was
my love of chat and your quietness. But what I remember as my shining hour and
what made you the love of my life was your comment about my being the most
introspective man and the most intuitive person that you had every met. But looking
back, I am sure I have told other people about this, so for you I guess you could label this story number 213.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Absence makes the heart grow fonder . . . or does it?
He Said
Relationships are a funny business. Not literally, but funny in some ways. Take being absent from each other, for instance. All my life I have heard stories about men who go off on fishing trips and women who go on cruises with other groups of women. It makes me wonder. Do I need to be absent in your life more often?
Let me preface this by saying, I don't really want to; however, all these tales about being away from each other making you stronger got me thinking. I love being around you all the time, but would you miss my mannerisms, which annoy you daily and get on your nerves constantly after all these years, if I went on a fishing trip with the boys? I reiterate, I don't want to, but if it would make you miss me more, I could learn to fish.
My problem is I am not sure you would miss me enough or even realize that I was back, or you might find out you did not miss or need me at all. I would hate to find out that I had just become
a habit to you instead of your better half . . . or at least some half.
I think I will just give up on this fishing idea. I hate the smell of fish, I don't like the ocean, I hate all that bright sun stuff and the smell of suntan lotion makes me nauseous. Guess I'll
just hang with you.
I would miss you too much to go fishing anyway.
She Said
Good grief, what will you come up with next? Your going fishing is as likely as my driving a race car and I can tell you right now that Dale Johnson or Jimmy Earnhardt have nothing to worry about.
If you did find some new adventure to try without me and you were gone for a few days, maybe I could get some rest. Would I miss you ? Sure I would. Would I be pleased when you came back? Depends on what you brought me.
Being apart would not hurt our relationship and might give us breathing room to do our own thing. The problem as I see it is that when you returned I would have to give you a play-by-play of every minute you were away, and I just don't have the time to write all of that down . . . plus you would be calling me on my cell every five minutes with some fish story and I would be right in the middle of one of my soaps so I wouldn't talk, and you would want to know what's the matter. And so on
and so on.
No, we probably should just stay together every day or a better idea would be to go off TOGETHER on a cruise to the Cayman Islands where I could snorkel and you could learn to fish (ha ha) or I could learn to drive a race car, especially if one of those cute drivers were around to
teach me. (Do you hear me, Dr. McDreamy?)
You, fishing? . . . No one would ever buy into that fish story . . . especially me.
Relationships are a funny business. Not literally, but funny in some ways. Take being absent from each other, for instance. All my life I have heard stories about men who go off on fishing trips and women who go on cruises with other groups of women. It makes me wonder. Do I need to be absent in your life more often?
Let me preface this by saying, I don't really want to; however, all these tales about being away from each other making you stronger got me thinking. I love being around you all the time, but would you miss my mannerisms, which annoy you daily and get on your nerves constantly after all these years, if I went on a fishing trip with the boys? I reiterate, I don't want to, but if it would make you miss me more, I could learn to fish.
My problem is I am not sure you would miss me enough or even realize that I was back, or you might find out you did not miss or need me at all. I would hate to find out that I had just become
a habit to you instead of your better half . . . or at least some half.
I think I will just give up on this fishing idea. I hate the smell of fish, I don't like the ocean, I hate all that bright sun stuff and the smell of suntan lotion makes me nauseous. Guess I'll
just hang with you.
I would miss you too much to go fishing anyway.
She Said
Good grief, what will you come up with next? Your going fishing is as likely as my driving a race car and I can tell you right now that Dale Johnson or Jimmy Earnhardt have nothing to worry about.
If you did find some new adventure to try without me and you were gone for a few days, maybe I could get some rest. Would I miss you ? Sure I would. Would I be pleased when you came back? Depends on what you brought me.
Being apart would not hurt our relationship and might give us breathing room to do our own thing. The problem as I see it is that when you returned I would have to give you a play-by-play of every minute you were away, and I just don't have the time to write all of that down . . . plus you would be calling me on my cell every five minutes with some fish story and I would be right in the middle of one of my soaps so I wouldn't talk, and you would want to know what's the matter. And so on
and so on.
No, we probably should just stay together every day or a better idea would be to go off TOGETHER on a cruise to the Cayman Islands where I could snorkel and you could learn to fish (ha ha) or I could learn to drive a race car, especially if one of those cute drivers were around to
teach me. (Do you hear me, Dr. McDreamy?)
You, fishing? . . . No one would ever buy into that fish story . . . especially me.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Leftovers-to eat or not to eat
He Said by Larry Oldham
Is there anything worse than looking forward to
a pleasant evening meal after a hard day at work
and coming home to LEFTOVERS?
I really like to eat and I'm basically a
meat-and-potatoes man. I don't eat quiche;
I don't eat broiled meat; I don't eat casseroles.
And I especially don't eat leftovers. If it wasn't
good enough to be eaten the first time around, why
would I want to give it a second chance to taste better?
I'm more than willing to go out to dinner rather
than eat a repeat from the night before. Maybe
these feelings come from years ago when I would
clean out the refrigerator and find what appeared
to be a science project waiting to have mold tested.
I won't even eat bread if it's more than a couple of
days old. I calculate the price of a sandwich from a
restaurant and figure I'm way ahead even if I throw
away half a loaf. You've tried to fool me by serving
rerun vegetables, but I can always tell, so I just
leave them on my plate. Get the message?
The only exception that I'll make is spaghetti. After
the seasonings have settled overnight, it actually
tastes better the second time. Sometimes I'll even
eat leftover biscuits if they're toasted and oozing
with butter, but I have to close my eyes and hold my
nose so I won't miss the freshness.
I had an aunt and uncle who farmed and grew all of
their food and raised cows and pigs. She made homemade
biscuits, gravy, eggs, bacon and sausage every day for
breakfast. Lunch was meat, vegetables, bread and dessert.
Dinner was even more meat, potatoes, vegetables, homemade
bread and dessert. She cooked and canned all day long.
She wouldn't dream of serving leftovers; everything was
homegrown and the meat was always fresh, not frozen.
The French still eat that way today. They take two hours
for lunch and shop every day so their food is fresh.
Their refrigerators are small because they don't store
a lot of food. Maybe I should move to France so my palate
will be pampered in the same way.
She Said by Dena Hill
This may come as a big revelation to you, but my
favorite day of the week is LEFTOVER DAY.
I can come home from work, go for a walk, play
with the dog, watch TV or whatever my little heart
desires, instead of planning dinner, shopping for
ingredients, cooking, and cleaning up.
I never serve leftovers the very next day.
You get a break by having at least one or two
days in-between. Hopefully, by that time you've
forgotten that we had it before.
(Oops! You're taking notes, aren't you? )
I have a friend who puts all of her leftovers
for the week into one big bowl and on Friday nights,
she makes soup. It never tastes the same because
all of her meals were different, and the soup is delicious.
You say you don't like casseroles. You really don't
like any food that has more than three ingredients
in it. I probably should be glad because it doesn't
take much talent to fry chicken, grill steaks, and
bake potatoes. Oh yes, as long as the can opener
works, we'll have "fresh" vegetables.
Your aunt and uncle worked their farm from sun-up
until sundown and didn't leave to go to public jobs.
I leave at 7:30 and get home between 4:00 and 5:00,
so daily shopping is not an option. I have 30 minutes
for lunch, not two hours like the French. Our lifestyle
is so different from Europeans that if you really want
to compare apples to apples (no pun intended) then you
need to look at a culture of people where both partners
work and there are no maids, butlers, chauffeurs,
nannies, but ordinary working folks like us.
All things considered, leftovers once in a while
can be considered a mini vacation. Readers?
larry.oldham0@gmail.com
Is there anything worse than looking forward to
a pleasant evening meal after a hard day at work
and coming home to LEFTOVERS?
I really like to eat and I'm basically a
meat-and-potatoes man. I don't eat quiche;
I don't eat broiled meat; I don't eat casseroles.
And I especially don't eat leftovers. If it wasn't
good enough to be eaten the first time around, why
would I want to give it a second chance to taste better?
I'm more than willing to go out to dinner rather
than eat a repeat from the night before. Maybe
these feelings come from years ago when I would
clean out the refrigerator and find what appeared
to be a science project waiting to have mold tested.
I won't even eat bread if it's more than a couple of
days old. I calculate the price of a sandwich from a
restaurant and figure I'm way ahead even if I throw
away half a loaf. You've tried to fool me by serving
rerun vegetables, but I can always tell, so I just
leave them on my plate. Get the message?
The only exception that I'll make is spaghetti. After
the seasonings have settled overnight, it actually
tastes better the second time. Sometimes I'll even
eat leftover biscuits if they're toasted and oozing
with butter, but I have to close my eyes and hold my
nose so I won't miss the freshness.
I had an aunt and uncle who farmed and grew all of
their food and raised cows and pigs. She made homemade
biscuits, gravy, eggs, bacon and sausage every day for
breakfast. Lunch was meat, vegetables, bread and dessert.
Dinner was even more meat, potatoes, vegetables, homemade
bread and dessert. She cooked and canned all day long.
She wouldn't dream of serving leftovers; everything was
homegrown and the meat was always fresh, not frozen.
The French still eat that way today. They take two hours
for lunch and shop every day so their food is fresh.
Their refrigerators are small because they don't store
a lot of food. Maybe I should move to France so my palate
will be pampered in the same way.
She Said by Dena Hill
This may come as a big revelation to you, but my
favorite day of the week is LEFTOVER DAY.
I can come home from work, go for a walk, play
with the dog, watch TV or whatever my little heart
desires, instead of planning dinner, shopping for
ingredients, cooking, and cleaning up.
I never serve leftovers the very next day.
You get a break by having at least one or two
days in-between. Hopefully, by that time you've
forgotten that we had it before.
(Oops! You're taking notes, aren't you? )
I have a friend who puts all of her leftovers
for the week into one big bowl and on Friday nights,
she makes soup. It never tastes the same because
all of her meals were different, and the soup is delicious.
You say you don't like casseroles. You really don't
like any food that has more than three ingredients
in it. I probably should be glad because it doesn't
take much talent to fry chicken, grill steaks, and
bake potatoes. Oh yes, as long as the can opener
works, we'll have "fresh" vegetables.
Your aunt and uncle worked their farm from sun-up
until sundown and didn't leave to go to public jobs.
I leave at 7:30 and get home between 4:00 and 5:00,
so daily shopping is not an option. I have 30 minutes
for lunch, not two hours like the French. Our lifestyle
is so different from Europeans that if you really want
to compare apples to apples (no pun intended) then you
need to look at a culture of people where both partners
work and there are no maids, butlers, chauffeurs,
nannies, but ordinary working folks like us.
All things considered, leftovers once in a while
can be considered a mini vacation. Readers?
larry.oldham0@gmail.com
Friday, April 11, 2008
She Said He Said-Venus and Mars etc.
She Said
Mars and Venus are alive and kicking in the Hill/Oldham relationship. Want proof? Check out the differences between men and women in "the world according to Dena."
It's a standing joke that men will drive up and down the same streets repeatedly all the while looking for the right house because the intended hostess said "We're in the directory" and Mr. Too-Proud-To-Ask-For directions decides to find it himself. A counterpoint would be that women always take too long "getting ready" and that's why we're always late. Well, we reserve the right to take longer getting ready to go out than men do. But that's because we have more details to attend to. A national survey showed that each 15 minutes it takes for a woman to get ready increases her chances of success by 6% (success at what wasn't clarified, but when you're my age, any success is welcomed!) Many men take 15 minutes from start to finish, so do the math. Sorry guys, you weren't included in the survey.
Because many of us gals work away from home we have double duty at night when its dinner time with dishes, laundry, homework, etc. While the women of the Baby Boomer Generation tried to do it all, the women of Generation X have learned from our mistakes. They're smarter than we were. They're demanding more equality in sharing household responsibilities when they, too, are putting in a hard day on the job.
Hats off to the men who willingly share household chores and why not? Contrary to popular belief, men, you won't get a hernia from picking up your socks. The worst thing that can happen is you'll make more time for togetherness as a couple, instead of singleness for pounding the remote control.
Speaking of remotes, why do men like to surf channels while commercials are on? How are we supposed to know what new products are on the market if we don't see them advertised? Men can single-handedly cause a collapse in free enterprise, if women don't know what to buy! These are the same men who can channel surf and keep score on three games at once, but who can't follow a conversation with their significant other while the TV is on thanks to their one-track minds. How many times have I heard "Don't talk to me while I'm watching TV!" Selective attentiveness.
Now about the toilet seat and the age-old question: up or down? I really don't care. It takes just as much effort to lower it as it does to raise it, so it really isn't a big deal to me. But why not show a little consideration and take turns with it after each person has used it? 50-50 is a good compromise.
However, 50-50 isn't such a good compromise when it comes to driving on trips. That's definitely a man's job. Women should just be pleasant companions who add levity to a dreary trip and point out beautiful sights along the way.
These little idiosyncrasies often end up with Mr. Mars pouting, so when your smiley face is turned upside down, why not just go back in your cave? If you're good, you can come out with Puxatawny Phil in February.
He Said
Miss Venus wants to talk about the differences between Men and Women. I'm game. Let me take them in order from the male perspective, or at least from this man's perspective.
Directions: In our case, usually Miss Venus has gotten the directions from her friends or family. Normally she has written the wrong street name, forgotten whether to turn left or right, or puts down 20 miles instead of 2 miles. If I stopped to ask someone, the directions would still be wrong because of incorrect initial information. Let's just say men can't win either way.
Getting ready: I say to Miss Venus how much time do you need to get ready? She answers, "not too long; maybe an hour." I sit and wait patiently wondering why the shower is still running 30 minutes later. She must be the reason for our present drought! Two hours later when I go to check on her progress, she is standing in front of the TV watching the rest of some previously recorded soap opera. If I don't go in and check on her and she comes out in two hours, I ask her, "What took so long?" She answers, "Bad Hair Day." Men can't win either way.
Household Duties: My mom and dad both worked everyday. They both also did the household duties. When I come in and ask if I can help, Miss Venus always says,
"Oh no, you go read the paper; dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
It's the same with mowing the yard. She says she would rather do it, because she cuts it a certain way.
In both of these instances, it's not that she doesn't want my help.
She just feels that I'm incapable of pleasing her the way she wants the job done.
Men can't win either way.
The thing about the remote. (This was the best one yet.) I can't remember the last time we went to a movie or watched TV when she did not fall asleep. I don't have a choice now. She must pass my test. As soon as she falls asleep, I put my hand up over her eyes about an inch from her face and hold it there for a minute. When I remove my hand, turn to her and ask, "Are you sleeping"? Her response is always the same. "I'm not sleeping." So flipping channels, watching racing, or whatever, really shouldn't matter to her. She'll be sleeping anyway and I'll get chastised for channel surfing. Men can't win either way.
The toilet seat we agree on. Today I'm putting a chart on the wall in front of the toilet. When you raise the seat, put a check by your name. When I raise the seat, I'll put a check by my name. We will each put $50 in the kitty and at the end of the month, whoever has the most check marks wins the kitty. To my knowledge no woman I have ever known has raised the toilet lid when finished, so maybe this time a man will finally come out on top....
And I thought that a man couldn't win.
Mars and Venus are alive and kicking in the Hill/Oldham relationship. Want proof? Check out the differences between men and women in "the world according to Dena."
It's a standing joke that men will drive up and down the same streets repeatedly all the while looking for the right house because the intended hostess said "We're in the directory" and Mr. Too-Proud-To-Ask-For directions decides to find it himself. A counterpoint would be that women always take too long "getting ready" and that's why we're always late. Well, we reserve the right to take longer getting ready to go out than men do. But that's because we have more details to attend to. A national survey showed that each 15 minutes it takes for a woman to get ready increases her chances of success by 6% (success at what wasn't clarified, but when you're my age, any success is welcomed!) Many men take 15 minutes from start to finish, so do the math. Sorry guys, you weren't included in the survey.
Because many of us gals work away from home we have double duty at night when its dinner time with dishes, laundry, homework, etc. While the women of the Baby Boomer Generation tried to do it all, the women of Generation X have learned from our mistakes. They're smarter than we were. They're demanding more equality in sharing household responsibilities when they, too, are putting in a hard day on the job.
Hats off to the men who willingly share household chores and why not? Contrary to popular belief, men, you won't get a hernia from picking up your socks. The worst thing that can happen is you'll make more time for togetherness as a couple, instead of singleness for pounding the remote control.
Speaking of remotes, why do men like to surf channels while commercials are on? How are we supposed to know what new products are on the market if we don't see them advertised? Men can single-handedly cause a collapse in free enterprise, if women don't know what to buy! These are the same men who can channel surf and keep score on three games at once, but who can't follow a conversation with their significant other while the TV is on thanks to their one-track minds. How many times have I heard "Don't talk to me while I'm watching TV!" Selective attentiveness.
Now about the toilet seat and the age-old question: up or down? I really don't care. It takes just as much effort to lower it as it does to raise it, so it really isn't a big deal to me. But why not show a little consideration and take turns with it after each person has used it? 50-50 is a good compromise.
However, 50-50 isn't such a good compromise when it comes to driving on trips. That's definitely a man's job. Women should just be pleasant companions who add levity to a dreary trip and point out beautiful sights along the way.
These little idiosyncrasies often end up with Mr. Mars pouting, so when your smiley face is turned upside down, why not just go back in your cave? If you're good, you can come out with Puxatawny Phil in February.
He Said
Miss Venus wants to talk about the differences between Men and Women. I'm game. Let me take them in order from the male perspective, or at least from this man's perspective.
Directions: In our case, usually Miss Venus has gotten the directions from her friends or family. Normally she has written the wrong street name, forgotten whether to turn left or right, or puts down 20 miles instead of 2 miles. If I stopped to ask someone, the directions would still be wrong because of incorrect initial information. Let's just say men can't win either way.
Getting ready: I say to Miss Venus how much time do you need to get ready? She answers, "not too long; maybe an hour." I sit and wait patiently wondering why the shower is still running 30 minutes later. She must be the reason for our present drought! Two hours later when I go to check on her progress, she is standing in front of the TV watching the rest of some previously recorded soap opera. If I don't go in and check on her and she comes out in two hours, I ask her, "What took so long?" She answers, "Bad Hair Day." Men can't win either way.
Household Duties: My mom and dad both worked everyday. They both also did the household duties. When I come in and ask if I can help, Miss Venus always says,
"Oh no, you go read the paper; dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
It's the same with mowing the yard. She says she would rather do it, because she cuts it a certain way.
In both of these instances, it's not that she doesn't want my help.
She just feels that I'm incapable of pleasing her the way she wants the job done.
Men can't win either way.
The thing about the remote. (This was the best one yet.) I can't remember the last time we went to a movie or watched TV when she did not fall asleep. I don't have a choice now. She must pass my test. As soon as she falls asleep, I put my hand up over her eyes about an inch from her face and hold it there for a minute. When I remove my hand, turn to her and ask, "Are you sleeping"? Her response is always the same. "I'm not sleeping." So flipping channels, watching racing, or whatever, really shouldn't matter to her. She'll be sleeping anyway and I'll get chastised for channel surfing. Men can't win either way.
The toilet seat we agree on. Today I'm putting a chart on the wall in front of the toilet. When you raise the seat, put a check by your name. When I raise the seat, I'll put a check by my name. We will each put $50 in the kitty and at the end of the month, whoever has the most check marks wins the kitty. To my knowledge no woman I have ever known has raised the toilet lid when finished, so maybe this time a man will finally come out on top....
And I thought that a man couldn't win.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
He Said She Said - Where would you like to eat, Honey?
He Said
I already know the answer to this question but just for the sake of argument, let's break it down into parts: the first part is about who makes the decision. In a democratic society, one could take a vote. Of course if the parties are you and your significant other, the outcome will be one to one. Then what? Or you could agree that since I decided the last time, you get to choose this time but let's face it, we're OLD and our memories aren't what they used to be. ( Or is it my selective memory, again!) I pride myself on being a gentleman so I always ask you where you want to go. Since you're such a lady, you always say that anywhere I choose is fine with you. So I choose after twelve or fifteen times of ping-pong conversation and a half a tank of gas. Here's a good example. I tell you that I want barbecue and then you politely tell me that you're not in the mood for barbecue or I don't like that restaurant. "But you just told me that I could choose!", I retort. "Fine" you say quietly as you give in. The next thing I hear is "But I'm going back on my diet". Translation: You can eat there if you want to but since I don't like that place, I'll silently protest and refuse to eat. The subterfuge is telling you I'm on a diet. The other part of this question could be that whoever pays, chooses the restaurant. But if I always pay, then I always choose, and you always are on a diet. This would save me lots of money; however, I would be always eating alone. You would be sitting across from me but I would be feeling so guilty about you drinking water and smelling the bread, that I could never enjoy my meal. I guess the third part of this situation could be to just stay home and eat what you cook. The other angle here is that since we both work full time, why should you have to be the one to cook and clean? So I gallantly offer to cook dinner for you. The biggest problem of all is that I don't cook.
She Said
How convenient... you don't cook. Do you think I was born knowing how to boil water? You can read, can't you? You can follow directions, can't you? Opps...I almost forgot...most men don't ask for directions! You were beginning to sound somewhat rational until you veered off into your fantasy world. How many times have you cooked for me? If you did, what did you cook? Deviled eggs and lemon pie out of a box? Not on my diet! As a working mother who has always cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner without complaining, I think you are blowing this "where to eat" thing all out of proportion. When you say "let's eat out" I just assume you are tired of my cooking or there is a new restaurant that you want to try out or you finally figured out that I work longer hours than you do and it would be nice to have a break from the dinner/dirty dishes routine. So let's break it down into parts as you say. If you're tired of my cooking, you can eat at your house, bring your own food over, or cook dinner for yourself. If you want to try a new restaurant, I'm game. Just tell me when, what time, etc., and take me there. Don't make such a big deal out of it. If you're planning to give me a break, that's GREAT! It will be greatly appreciated. I always knew how thoughtful you were and dinner out is a loving way to show it. To be honest with you, I don't really care where we eat or IF we eat out at all, except on special occasions. When you want to eat out, pick a place, pay for it, and then you'll be happy and I'll be happy. Remember, I don't have to have French Cuisine and Caviar every day especially since you're a meat and potatoes guy like most men. Besides, you eat out every day at lunch so dinner can't be but so important to you. Speaking of lunch, let's get back to the Danview cook. What's going on there?
I already know the answer to this question but just for the sake of argument, let's break it down into parts: the first part is about who makes the decision. In a democratic society, one could take a vote. Of course if the parties are you and your significant other, the outcome will be one to one. Then what? Or you could agree that since I decided the last time, you get to choose this time but let's face it, we're OLD and our memories aren't what they used to be. ( Or is it my selective memory, again!) I pride myself on being a gentleman so I always ask you where you want to go. Since you're such a lady, you always say that anywhere I choose is fine with you. So I choose after twelve or fifteen times of ping-pong conversation and a half a tank of gas. Here's a good example. I tell you that I want barbecue and then you politely tell me that you're not in the mood for barbecue or I don't like that restaurant. "But you just told me that I could choose!", I retort. "Fine" you say quietly as you give in. The next thing I hear is "But I'm going back on my diet". Translation: You can eat there if you want to but since I don't like that place, I'll silently protest and refuse to eat. The subterfuge is telling you I'm on a diet. The other part of this question could be that whoever pays, chooses the restaurant. But if I always pay, then I always choose, and you always are on a diet. This would save me lots of money; however, I would be always eating alone. You would be sitting across from me but I would be feeling so guilty about you drinking water and smelling the bread, that I could never enjoy my meal. I guess the third part of this situation could be to just stay home and eat what you cook. The other angle here is that since we both work full time, why should you have to be the one to cook and clean? So I gallantly offer to cook dinner for you. The biggest problem of all is that I don't cook.
She Said
How convenient... you don't cook. Do you think I was born knowing how to boil water? You can read, can't you? You can follow directions, can't you? Opps...I almost forgot...most men don't ask for directions! You were beginning to sound somewhat rational until you veered off into your fantasy world. How many times have you cooked for me? If you did, what did you cook? Deviled eggs and lemon pie out of a box? Not on my diet! As a working mother who has always cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner without complaining, I think you are blowing this "where to eat" thing all out of proportion. When you say "let's eat out" I just assume you are tired of my cooking or there is a new restaurant that you want to try out or you finally figured out that I work longer hours than you do and it would be nice to have a break from the dinner/dirty dishes routine. So let's break it down into parts as you say. If you're tired of my cooking, you can eat at your house, bring your own food over, or cook dinner for yourself. If you want to try a new restaurant, I'm game. Just tell me when, what time, etc., and take me there. Don't make such a big deal out of it. If you're planning to give me a break, that's GREAT! It will be greatly appreciated. I always knew how thoughtful you were and dinner out is a loving way to show it. To be honest with you, I don't really care where we eat or IF we eat out at all, except on special occasions. When you want to eat out, pick a place, pay for it, and then you'll be happy and I'll be happy. Remember, I don't have to have French Cuisine and Caviar every day especially since you're a meat and potatoes guy like most men. Besides, you eat out every day at lunch so dinner can't be but so important to you. Speaking of lunch, let's get back to the Danview cook. What's going on there?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
He Said She Said - Learn to Ski ?
He Said
by Larry Oldham
As I might have mentioned in an earlier column, I’m not really big on sports. A great weekend trip for me would be going to New York to see a play, doing a little shopping, dining in a couple of fine restaurants. So you can guess how excited I was when my fiancée suggested that we go to New York for the weekend.
I dashed to my computer to search for hotels, Broadway shows, favorite restaurants. I was like a kid with a new toy. Then she dropped the bomb. “Oh, we’re going to New York all right, but not to Manhattan. We’re going to Cazenovia, New York.” This is about 20 miles from Syracuse and guess what folks. We are going skiing!
Mr. Coordinated, Mr. Big Time Sports Guy, Mr. “I Wish I Was At The Mall” is going to demonstrate for the world how to break his neck!
“No, No,” she says, “not on a slope...we’re going cross country skiing for the exercise.”
“Well that’s different. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You know how much I like to exercise! You can look at my physique and tell that.
We flew out of Greensboro at 6:30 a.m., leaving Danville at 3:30 a.m. Fortunately in New York, we stayed with relatives, which was great. (Thanks Bill and Betsy for your hospitality!) By the way, the airline lost our luggage for the whole weekend so we had to ski naked...OK, I made that naked part up, but it would have been cool. (No pun intended.) All was not in vain though, because while she was skiing, I was on the snowmobile looking for a shopping mall. I didn’t find one, but I did find a nice little Italian restaurant that helped a little, PLUS I lived to tell this story.
She Said
by Dena Hill
MEN! Either put up or shut up. Two weeks ago he wanted to go out-of-town to a play at the Prizery followed by dinner at the Molasses Grill (which was delicious, I might add) and so we did. Did I complain? No. We met some of our friends and had an enjoyable time. But now for something different.....
I suggested that we go to see my cousin in New York because they had 5 feet of snow. We could ski, snowmobile, and maybe even ice fish. It was my turn to look forward to a great weekend. We flew up, rented a car, and met my cousin on Friday afternoon. Mr. Sports Guy didn’t want to cross country ski...too boring...too cold...too tiring.
Mr. Whiner wanted to sit by the fireplace and watch it snow while looking in the paper for what was on sale at the malls.
Bill finally enticed him out to the garage where he met the snowmobile. End of story. One trip flying around the trail and we couldn’t get him back in the house. What a speed demon! He rode that snowmobile for 2 days straight while I tried to keep my skis on.
I spent a lot of time falling and he spent lot of time picking me up—but not from a ski tumble. He turned the snowmobile over twice.
Cazenovia is a beautiful, quaint little village that we love to visit every summer and go boating on the lake. Well, this time of year, the lake is frozen with a foot of ice. I actually drilled a hole and measured it. After 2 hours of begging, I finally got my star snowmobile athlete to walk out on the lake and ice fish. The Brave One didn’t stay long though because he didn’t catch a fish and he whined about how cold it was.
From my perspective, it gave a whole new meaning to his superiority complex and the probability that one day he could walk on water. This week he finally did... too bad it was frozen!
by Larry Oldham
As I might have mentioned in an earlier column, I’m not really big on sports. A great weekend trip for me would be going to New York to see a play, doing a little shopping, dining in a couple of fine restaurants. So you can guess how excited I was when my fiancée suggested that we go to New York for the weekend.
I dashed to my computer to search for hotels, Broadway shows, favorite restaurants. I was like a kid with a new toy. Then she dropped the bomb. “Oh, we’re going to New York all right, but not to Manhattan. We’re going to Cazenovia, New York.” This is about 20 miles from Syracuse and guess what folks. We are going skiing!
Mr. Coordinated, Mr. Big Time Sports Guy, Mr. “I Wish I Was At The Mall” is going to demonstrate for the world how to break his neck!
“No, No,” she says, “not on a slope...we’re going cross country skiing for the exercise.”
“Well that’s different. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You know how much I like to exercise! You can look at my physique and tell that.
We flew out of Greensboro at 6:30 a.m., leaving Danville at 3:30 a.m. Fortunately in New York, we stayed with relatives, which was great. (Thanks Bill and Betsy for your hospitality!) By the way, the airline lost our luggage for the whole weekend so we had to ski naked...OK, I made that naked part up, but it would have been cool. (No pun intended.) All was not in vain though, because while she was skiing, I was on the snowmobile looking for a shopping mall. I didn’t find one, but I did find a nice little Italian restaurant that helped a little, PLUS I lived to tell this story.
She Said
by Dena Hill
MEN! Either put up or shut up. Two weeks ago he wanted to go out-of-town to a play at the Prizery followed by dinner at the Molasses Grill (which was delicious, I might add) and so we did. Did I complain? No. We met some of our friends and had an enjoyable time. But now for something different.....
I suggested that we go to see my cousin in New York because they had 5 feet of snow. We could ski, snowmobile, and maybe even ice fish. It was my turn to look forward to a great weekend. We flew up, rented a car, and met my cousin on Friday afternoon. Mr. Sports Guy didn’t want to cross country ski...too boring...too cold...too tiring.
Mr. Whiner wanted to sit by the fireplace and watch it snow while looking in the paper for what was on sale at the malls.
Bill finally enticed him out to the garage where he met the snowmobile. End of story. One trip flying around the trail and we couldn’t get him back in the house. What a speed demon! He rode that snowmobile for 2 days straight while I tried to keep my skis on.
I spent a lot of time falling and he spent lot of time picking me up—but not from a ski tumble. He turned the snowmobile over twice.
Cazenovia is a beautiful, quaint little village that we love to visit every summer and go boating on the lake. Well, this time of year, the lake is frozen with a foot of ice. I actually drilled a hole and measured it. After 2 hours of begging, I finally got my star snowmobile athlete to walk out on the lake and ice fish. The Brave One didn’t stay long though because he didn’t catch a fish and he whined about how cold it was.
From my perspective, it gave a whole new meaning to his superiority complex and the probability that one day he could walk on water. This week he finally did... too bad it was frozen!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
He Said She Said - Watching TV
He Said:
Does anyone remember what life was like before Television: families talking to each other, neighbors being neighborly, reading a book either for entertainment or for knowledge? Some people argue that we don't need books anymore because we have the internet. I am doing my part. I am buying every book I want to read some day. So far I have accumulated thousands of titles. Back to television. Everyone I know gets up in the morning and turns on the TV while getting ready for work (except the non-working friends) and you know who you are. When they come home from work, the first thing they do is turn on their TV. When they go to bed they set the timer on their TV so they can go to sleep. I call this death by Letterman. Pardon me, I meant sleep by Letterman. When Dena (my fiance') wants to go to sleep, she just asks me to talk to her or tell one of my famous stories,which always put her to sleep. I will admit that I occasionally watch Cops or Forensic Science or maybe an episode of Survivors, or maybe The Amazing Race. Dena does make me watch all of the Monday night sitcoms, which I find amusing in some ways; but to just turn the TV on for noise sake seems a disgrace to our own intelligence. I mean you do have the dog barking (incessantly), your son to talk to, or I can always tell you one of my many stories. I am not superior to anyone else, I just want to go back to an easier, friendlier, talk and listen relationship with family, friends, and neighbors. Now is that asking too much? If I could shoot all TV's, it would certainly put me out of my misery. It would also help a lot of other people to get a life. However, some people would go into withdrawals without their TV's and my killing the TV's before the conclusion of this seasons' Survivor would only result in opening the killing season on me. Then I would end up being on TV.Wouldn't that be ironic?
She Said:
Okay Mr. Pseudo Intellectual who thinks he's above TV. I've got two words for you: CLOSET WATCHER. You go around telling everybody you don't watch TV. You say you would rather read, when what you are reading is the TV Guide to find out when the next episode of Cops or World's Most Famous Car Chases comes on. You don't necessarily sneak around like a closet eater, but you act like you don't watch TV when in reality you do watch it. Who has fifteen boxes of recorded tapes of the OJ Trial? You recorded them off of WHAT? Oh, I remember, you recorded them off of the TV. Just because you don't watch it at the time, does not mean you are not watching it off of the TV! What about all of those times when you have meetings and you ask me to record Survivor or The Amazing Race? When you come over to watch those recorded shows, that is a form of TV watching to me. Let's take a look: THE CLASS, HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER, TWO AND A HALF MEN, CHRISTINA, WHAT ABOUT BRIAN, GREY'S ANATOMY, SURVIVOR, THE AMAZING RACE, NANCY GRACE, FORENSIC SCIENCE, and COPS. The last time I looked, these were all TV shows, not radio shows. As for you shooting your TV, you are much too frugal with money to destroy property. I have never seen you shoot a gun so you are probably a poor shot, and the biggest reason you won't kill your TV is because there is no TV Hunting Season Guide to tell you when to hunt and God forbid you miss a season of 24 or LOST. You need to dump this TV thing and if you want me, I'll be in my room watching DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES, which I am beginning to feel like!
Does anyone remember what life was like before Television: families talking to each other, neighbors being neighborly, reading a book either for entertainment or for knowledge? Some people argue that we don't need books anymore because we have the internet. I am doing my part. I am buying every book I want to read some day. So far I have accumulated thousands of titles. Back to television. Everyone I know gets up in the morning and turns on the TV while getting ready for work (except the non-working friends) and you know who you are. When they come home from work, the first thing they do is turn on their TV. When they go to bed they set the timer on their TV so they can go to sleep. I call this death by Letterman. Pardon me, I meant sleep by Letterman. When Dena (my fiance') wants to go to sleep, she just asks me to talk to her or tell one of my famous stories,which always put her to sleep. I will admit that I occasionally watch Cops or Forensic Science or maybe an episode of Survivors, or maybe The Amazing Race. Dena does make me watch all of the Monday night sitcoms, which I find amusing in some ways; but to just turn the TV on for noise sake seems a disgrace to our own intelligence. I mean you do have the dog barking (incessantly), your son to talk to, or I can always tell you one of my many stories. I am not superior to anyone else, I just want to go back to an easier, friendlier, talk and listen relationship with family, friends, and neighbors. Now is that asking too much? If I could shoot all TV's, it would certainly put me out of my misery. It would also help a lot of other people to get a life. However, some people would go into withdrawals without their TV's and my killing the TV's before the conclusion of this seasons' Survivor would only result in opening the killing season on me. Then I would end up being on TV.Wouldn't that be ironic?
She Said:
Okay Mr. Pseudo Intellectual who thinks he's above TV. I've got two words for you: CLOSET WATCHER. You go around telling everybody you don't watch TV. You say you would rather read, when what you are reading is the TV Guide to find out when the next episode of Cops or World's Most Famous Car Chases comes on. You don't necessarily sneak around like a closet eater, but you act like you don't watch TV when in reality you do watch it. Who has fifteen boxes of recorded tapes of the OJ Trial? You recorded them off of WHAT? Oh, I remember, you recorded them off of the TV. Just because you don't watch it at the time, does not mean you are not watching it off of the TV! What about all of those times when you have meetings and you ask me to record Survivor or The Amazing Race? When you come over to watch those recorded shows, that is a form of TV watching to me. Let's take a look: THE CLASS, HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER, TWO AND A HALF MEN, CHRISTINA, WHAT ABOUT BRIAN, GREY'S ANATOMY, SURVIVOR, THE AMAZING RACE, NANCY GRACE, FORENSIC SCIENCE, and COPS. The last time I looked, these were all TV shows, not radio shows. As for you shooting your TV, you are much too frugal with money to destroy property. I have never seen you shoot a gun so you are probably a poor shot, and the biggest reason you won't kill your TV is because there is no TV Hunting Season Guide to tell you when to hunt and God forbid you miss a season of 24 or LOST. You need to dump this TV thing and if you want me, I'll be in my room watching DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES, which I am beginning to feel like!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
He Said She Said -Vacations
He Said
July must mean it is time to start making vacation plans.
When the kids were young, this was a pretty simple task.
Where are the most RIDES going to be? Now that the kids
have escaped and are making their own vacations plans
or having their own vacation woes, here we are!
I, of course, like certain places to prop up my feet,
get up and go to bed when I want to, get a soda
on my own schedule with no one to answer to except my spouse,
of course. If I can get her to agree to where I want to go
and plan the vacation, she does pretty well. After all,
she is a very even tempered person who only lives to
make sure I am happy at all times; that is, after the
children, the dog, the fish, people at work, people at
church, the neighbors, our friends, the UPS man and whoever
is delivering the mail this week.
New York to me is exciting, especially Manhattan--the plays,
the food, and the shopping choices which amount to
hundreds of stores to peruse. Myrtle Beach is nice--good food,
the roar and splendor of the ocean and that new mall is not
bad either. Atlanta, Gatlinburg, Virginia Beach, Florida. All of
these places I can go and relax and have a good time.
Vacation to her is staying at home and getting all of those
jobs done that WE (and I use that term lightly) can accomplish
working together as a team. I call them projects. Blowing insulation
into the attic, mulching around the house, painting all of the
bedrooms does not constitute vacation time to me. Heck, I might
as well be at work where I have it easier, plus I get paid for being
there. Maybe I’ll tell her I can’t take vacation this year because
I’m too busy. At the very least, I’ll get out of having to fix gutters
or what other ideas she puts into that job jar.
She Said
Teaching school all year and getting home at 4:00 or 5:00 p.m. every
day does not leave me a lot of time to get my “projects” as you
call them started or even close to being finished. What you call
projects is what other families call keeping your house up. The house
won’t fix itself.
In the past when I mentioned vacation destinations, you would
sort of turn up your nose and make a face or question why I would
want to go to those places. I did notice your ears perk up when I
told you that they had a Wal-Mart in Hawaii. You are the only man
I know who can take two days to drive to Atlanta, which is normally
a five-hour trip, because you have to stop at every mall, Wal-Mart,
K mart, produce stand, and hobby shop between here and Georgia.
I have been to Myrtle Beach with you more than once and I don’t
think in all of those times have I actually been on the beach. I am
not sure if you even know there IS a beach at Myrtle Beach.
However, I do know every store in the Outlet Mall, regular mall,
and every fleabitten piece of memorabilia at the flea markets.
I think visiting the cathedrals and museums in London or the
Louvre and the Eiffel Tower in Paris would be exceptional
vacations. But the problem for you would be no Wal-Mart,
no mall--only exotic food, that you don’t like, a
foreign language that you don’t speak and a lot of walking,
which you are allergic to. I imagine a vacation in Europe with
you would be a week of all WHINE and no cheese. The best thing
to do is stay home.
I’ll do my projects. You sit on the porch drinking your tea
and reading your books. I’ll be happy; you’ll be rested,
and we’ll both save money. But I’m not cooking.
Vacation week...you are buying dinner out every night.
HAPPY VACATION.
© Larry Oldham, 2007
July must mean it is time to start making vacation plans.
When the kids were young, this was a pretty simple task.
Where are the most RIDES going to be? Now that the kids
have escaped and are making their own vacations plans
or having their own vacation woes, here we are!
I, of course, like certain places to prop up my feet,
get up and go to bed when I want to, get a soda
on my own schedule with no one to answer to except my spouse,
of course. If I can get her to agree to where I want to go
and plan the vacation, she does pretty well. After all,
she is a very even tempered person who only lives to
make sure I am happy at all times; that is, after the
children, the dog, the fish, people at work, people at
church, the neighbors, our friends, the UPS man and whoever
is delivering the mail this week.
New York to me is exciting, especially Manhattan--the plays,
the food, and the shopping choices which amount to
hundreds of stores to peruse. Myrtle Beach is nice--good food,
the roar and splendor of the ocean and that new mall is not
bad either. Atlanta, Gatlinburg, Virginia Beach, Florida. All of
these places I can go and relax and have a good time.
Vacation to her is staying at home and getting all of those
jobs done that WE (and I use that term lightly) can accomplish
working together as a team. I call them projects. Blowing insulation
into the attic, mulching around the house, painting all of the
bedrooms does not constitute vacation time to me. Heck, I might
as well be at work where I have it easier, plus I get paid for being
there. Maybe I’ll tell her I can’t take vacation this year because
I’m too busy. At the very least, I’ll get out of having to fix gutters
or what other ideas she puts into that job jar.
She Said
Teaching school all year and getting home at 4:00 or 5:00 p.m. every
day does not leave me a lot of time to get my “projects” as you
call them started or even close to being finished. What you call
projects is what other families call keeping your house up. The house
won’t fix itself.
In the past when I mentioned vacation destinations, you would
sort of turn up your nose and make a face or question why I would
want to go to those places. I did notice your ears perk up when I
told you that they had a Wal-Mart in Hawaii. You are the only man
I know who can take two days to drive to Atlanta, which is normally
a five-hour trip, because you have to stop at every mall, Wal-Mart,
K mart, produce stand, and hobby shop between here and Georgia.
I have been to Myrtle Beach with you more than once and I don’t
think in all of those times have I actually been on the beach. I am
not sure if you even know there IS a beach at Myrtle Beach.
However, I do know every store in the Outlet Mall, regular mall,
and every fleabitten piece of memorabilia at the flea markets.
I think visiting the cathedrals and museums in London or the
Louvre and the Eiffel Tower in Paris would be exceptional
vacations. But the problem for you would be no Wal-Mart,
no mall--only exotic food, that you don’t like, a
foreign language that you don’t speak and a lot of walking,
which you are allergic to. I imagine a vacation in Europe with
you would be a week of all WHINE and no cheese. The best thing
to do is stay home.
I’ll do my projects. You sit on the porch drinking your tea
and reading your books. I’ll be happy; you’ll be rested,
and we’ll both save money. But I’m not cooking.
Vacation week...you are buying dinner out every night.
HAPPY VACATION.
© Larry Oldham, 2007
He Said She Said - Beauty Shop Conspiracy
He Said
They say that couples should spend quality time
together whenever possible. I agree. I try to
spend as much time as possible with my fiancee'.
But let me tell you, going to the beauty shop
together does notmake for quality time.
In today's world not all guys go to the barber
shop to get their hair cut,colored or coiffed.
Some go to a beauty shop. Somehow, my fiancee'
and I started going to the same beauty shop on
the same day and at the same time. These days,
in between all of her other fixings,our hairstylist
Stephanie cuts my hair.
I have noticed that when a man walks into a beauty
salon, the women stop talking all at once. You
can literally hear a hairpin drop. How and why
they do this is beyond me. They can't all have
been talking about me because all of them do
not know me. Something else I have noticed is
that once they start talking again, they do it
in unison, like some kind of women's army.
Since I have been going to the beauty parlor,
I have also learned that there are secrets
going on. How do I know this? Because I ask
questions but I don't get back answers.
For example...
One day on the shelf in front of me I noticed
a bottle of something called Sex You Up
so I asked Stephanie,"What is that? Do you
drink it, splash it on your body, or bathe in it?
"No",she replied.
"Well, what is it for." I asked. No answer.
When she finally told me that it is something to
puff up your hair, I bought a bottle. I was
thinking it would make me look younger or at
the least, sexier. Instead, it made me look like
one of those gospel singers or preachers you see
on TV with bouffant hair, so I threw it away.
I don't need to look any puffier than I already
look or look younger and have all those blue
haired women calling 24/7. Maybe I should go back
to the barbershop where men are men and we just
look sexy naturally...without additives.
She Said
To all of the women in the world, I apologize.
I am afraid my fiance' has found out the truth
about us. We have a hideout; it's the beauty salon.
Yes, my super-duper-snooper detective fiance' has
discovered the top secret of women everywhere. Hair
Salons all over the world are chapters of an
organization of women who plan to take over the
world and rule all men. I apologize, too, for his
discovering our top secret weapon, Sex You Up.
Thank goodness it doesn't work for men, just women.
What he did not realize is that Sex You Up
works to make us sexy and alluring so we can entice
all of the men and conquer them, not the other way
around. Sort of like their AXE body spray. That must
be some formula that men think will entice us meek
unassuming, poor women. There is an old saying that
"He chases her until she catches him". Think about
that , guys.
He also discovered that we bring stories to our
hairdressers, about what the men did that week, and
the hairdressers tell other women; this is how we
learn to dominate them.
Thank goodness he didn't find out that we all conspire
together to marry them, divorce them, and get all of
their money, which we then send to the Natural Order
of Women.
We go to beauty salons each week under the pretense that
we are just trying to fix ourselves up for them. But
now that secret is out, we should never, ever let them
find out that when we all go to the restroom together,
this is really just a time for short meetings of our
NOW group.
My fiance' can find a conspiracy theory in everything
I do and now it is everything that women do at the
hair salon. I didn't ask him to go to the beauty salon;
he just tagged along.
I didn't ask him to buy Sex You Up,he thought
it would puff up his hair when actually it was just to
puff up his ego.
I am telling you, I only go to the hairdresser to look
good and to make myself more appealing for him. I imagine
that if I took a survey, most women would feel the same
way. I'll be sure and bring it up at our next monthly
meeting.
Puffy hair? Give me a break. Larry, you only look puffy
from eating too many Snickers.
They say that couples should spend quality time
together whenever possible. I agree. I try to
spend as much time as possible with my fiancee'.
But let me tell you, going to the beauty shop
together does notmake for quality time.
In today's world not all guys go to the barber
shop to get their hair cut,colored or coiffed.
Some go to a beauty shop. Somehow, my fiancee'
and I started going to the same beauty shop on
the same day and at the same time. These days,
in between all of her other fixings,our hairstylist
Stephanie cuts my hair.
I have noticed that when a man walks into a beauty
salon, the women stop talking all at once. You
can literally hear a hairpin drop. How and why
they do this is beyond me. They can't all have
been talking about me because all of them do
not know me. Something else I have noticed is
that once they start talking again, they do it
in unison, like some kind of women's army.
Since I have been going to the beauty parlor,
I have also learned that there are secrets
going on. How do I know this? Because I ask
questions but I don't get back answers.
For example...
One day on the shelf in front of me I noticed
a bottle of something called Sex You Up
so I asked Stephanie,"What is that? Do you
drink it, splash it on your body, or bathe in it?
"No",she replied.
"Well, what is it for." I asked. No answer.
When she finally told me that it is something to
puff up your hair, I bought a bottle. I was
thinking it would make me look younger or at
the least, sexier. Instead, it made me look like
one of those gospel singers or preachers you see
on TV with bouffant hair, so I threw it away.
I don't need to look any puffier than I already
look or look younger and have all those blue
haired women calling 24/7. Maybe I should go back
to the barbershop where men are men and we just
look sexy naturally...without additives.
She Said
To all of the women in the world, I apologize.
I am afraid my fiance' has found out the truth
about us. We have a hideout; it's the beauty salon.
Yes, my super-duper-snooper detective fiance' has
discovered the top secret of women everywhere. Hair
Salons all over the world are chapters of an
organization of women who plan to take over the
world and rule all men. I apologize, too, for his
discovering our top secret weapon, Sex You Up.
Thank goodness it doesn't work for men, just women.
What he did not realize is that Sex You Up
works to make us sexy and alluring so we can entice
all of the men and conquer them, not the other way
around. Sort of like their AXE body spray. That must
be some formula that men think will entice us meek
unassuming, poor women. There is an old saying that
"He chases her until she catches him". Think about
that , guys.
He also discovered that we bring stories to our
hairdressers, about what the men did that week, and
the hairdressers tell other women; this is how we
learn to dominate them.
Thank goodness he didn't find out that we all conspire
together to marry them, divorce them, and get all of
their money, which we then send to the Natural Order
of Women.
We go to beauty salons each week under the pretense that
we are just trying to fix ourselves up for them. But
now that secret is out, we should never, ever let them
find out that when we all go to the restroom together,
this is really just a time for short meetings of our
NOW group.
My fiance' can find a conspiracy theory in everything
I do and now it is everything that women do at the
hair salon. I didn't ask him to go to the beauty salon;
he just tagged along.
I didn't ask him to buy Sex You Up,he thought
it would puff up his hair when actually it was just to
puff up his ego.
I am telling you, I only go to the hairdresser to look
good and to make myself more appealing for him. I imagine
that if I took a survey, most women would feel the same
way. I'll be sure and bring it up at our next monthly
meeting.
Puffy hair? Give me a break. Larry, you only look puffy
from eating too many Snickers.
Friday, March 21, 2008
He Said She Said - Dieting
He Said
There is one word we don't use much
around our house, because not only
is it off limits, it is also taboo.
Now I know what you are thinking...
money, sex, ex-wives...nope. Nothing
that trite. We are talking about the
big word.
DIET.
I personally don't see anything wrong
with the word. I occasionally use it
myself,usually in a sentence like: "I
don't do diets", or "I don't believe
in diets".
Don't get me wrong. I believe in good
health, quality of life and so on and
so on. Heck, I even watch those cute
girls doing Pilates on TV and you know
I don't do much TV. But when it comes
to diets, there are just too many of
them out there: Atkins, Weight Watchers,
L.A. something or other, Weight Off
Forever (or when you run out of money),
Nutri-Systems...the list goes on
forever. I mean if one of them really
works, why don't all of you get on
that one?
Let's say all of you gets on the one
that works and lose a few pounds. That
means new clothes, a new house, new car,
and probably a new spouse.
Why not do what I did when my doctor told
me I was getting fat? I just cut back on
my sweets, sodas, hot dogs, potatoe chips,
milkshakes,bisquits, butter and jelly. In
a few weeks I had lost a few pounds, without
eating foreign foods or taking exercise
classes and best of all, not having to pay
someone to tell me that I had gained or
lost a few pounds during that week.
Yep, my plan works so well for me that maybe
I will become one of those diet guru people.
I will gather up a few of those BEFORE pictures
back when I was fat and take some pictures of
me AFTER losing a few pounds. Next I will
write a diet book on how I did it and come up
with a fad diet name...something like
MAC-THIN or SLIM-MART or MAXI-THIN...then I
will share my big diet plan with the rest of
the world.
But first I think I will have some ice cream
and take a nap.
She Said
The only four letter word not spoken around our
house isn't diet...it is STOP.
STOP bringing those 42 bags of Easter candy,
21 bags of Valentine candy, and 34 bags of
Christmas candy to my house that you bought
on sale for 1/2 off at some drug store after
each and every holiday. Keep it stashed at
your house instead of mine and them we will
see how well the world's most famous couch
potato keeps the pounds off.
You. a diet guru?
You could be the poster boy for all the diet
plans in the world...but only the before
pictures. You are like most men. You eat
everything you want and then throw it up
to us ladies that dieting is a farce, all
because you can quit eating sugar, sodas,
bread, etc. for a few days and lose weight.
Men and women have a different metabolism.
We are already not eating all of that
garbage that you enjoy so much, so we don't
have much to give up without starving ourselves
to death.
When we do find a dieting program that works,
you're too busy making fun of fad diets to
lend support and encouragement to our diet
program. The diet word is not really taboo
around the house. I just don't like to
talk about it because I know that I am going
to hear ridicule or sarcasm about my diet.
Maybe you should try to appreciate the fact
that I am trying to look slimmer and thinner
to please you.
Instead of looking at the girls doing Pilates
on TV in their size 3 bathing suits, maybe I
would like for you to compliment me on my
appearance. At the very least, I would like
to think that when you're talking eye candy,
I am somewhere in that equation.
Otherwise I can only think that I am losing
weight just in case Dr. McDreamy should happen
to come to town again.
There is one word we don't use much
around our house, because not only
is it off limits, it is also taboo.
Now I know what you are thinking...
money, sex, ex-wives...nope. Nothing
that trite. We are talking about the
big word.
DIET.
I personally don't see anything wrong
with the word. I occasionally use it
myself,usually in a sentence like: "I
don't do diets", or "I don't believe
in diets".
Don't get me wrong. I believe in good
health, quality of life and so on and
so on. Heck, I even watch those cute
girls doing Pilates on TV and you know
I don't do much TV. But when it comes
to diets, there are just too many of
them out there: Atkins, Weight Watchers,
L.A. something or other, Weight Off
Forever (or when you run out of money),
Nutri-Systems...the list goes on
forever. I mean if one of them really
works, why don't all of you get on
that one?
Let's say all of you gets on the one
that works and lose a few pounds. That
means new clothes, a new house, new car,
and probably a new spouse.
Why not do what I did when my doctor told
me I was getting fat? I just cut back on
my sweets, sodas, hot dogs, potatoe chips,
milkshakes,bisquits, butter and jelly. In
a few weeks I had lost a few pounds, without
eating foreign foods or taking exercise
classes and best of all, not having to pay
someone to tell me that I had gained or
lost a few pounds during that week.
Yep, my plan works so well for me that maybe
I will become one of those diet guru people.
I will gather up a few of those BEFORE pictures
back when I was fat and take some pictures of
me AFTER losing a few pounds. Next I will
write a diet book on how I did it and come up
with a fad diet name...something like
MAC-THIN or SLIM-MART or MAXI-THIN...then I
will share my big diet plan with the rest of
the world.
But first I think I will have some ice cream
and take a nap.
She Said
The only four letter word not spoken around our
house isn't diet...it is STOP.
STOP bringing those 42 bags of Easter candy,
21 bags of Valentine candy, and 34 bags of
Christmas candy to my house that you bought
on sale for 1/2 off at some drug store after
each and every holiday. Keep it stashed at
your house instead of mine and them we will
see how well the world's most famous couch
potato keeps the pounds off.
You. a diet guru?
You could be the poster boy for all the diet
plans in the world...but only the before
pictures. You are like most men. You eat
everything you want and then throw it up
to us ladies that dieting is a farce, all
because you can quit eating sugar, sodas,
bread, etc. for a few days and lose weight.
Men and women have a different metabolism.
We are already not eating all of that
garbage that you enjoy so much, so we don't
have much to give up without starving ourselves
to death.
When we do find a dieting program that works,
you're too busy making fun of fad diets to
lend support and encouragement to our diet
program. The diet word is not really taboo
around the house. I just don't like to
talk about it because I know that I am going
to hear ridicule or sarcasm about my diet.
Maybe you should try to appreciate the fact
that I am trying to look slimmer and thinner
to please you.
Instead of looking at the girls doing Pilates
on TV in their size 3 bathing suits, maybe I
would like for you to compliment me on my
appearance. At the very least, I would like
to think that when you're talking eye candy,
I am somewhere in that equation.
Otherwise I can only think that I am losing
weight just in case Dr. McDreamy should happen
to come to town again.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
He Said She Said - Love in February
He Said
Here is what I know about love.
It comes once a year on February 14th.
That is the one day that I know I am
loved. People tell me. Cards tell me.
Balloons tell me. On a good Valentine's
Day, candy even tells me.
Let's look at the other 364 days of the
year. Where are my presents? Where are
my cards? Where are my flowers? I want
to be loved all the year round. This
part-time love isn't working for me
anymore. I want everyday to be Valentine's
Day. Instead, every day is like Halloween,
spooky and scary.
According to Hallmark, every month there
is a holiday of some sort, but if they
had it their way, every day would be a
holiday. I am offering them that chance.
Make every day a day of Love. It would
certainly satisfy my love needs. I don't
require presents, cards, flowers, or candy
every day, even though I could get used
to it. However, a love nudge, holding hands,
a little kissy mouth, anything to let me
know I am appreciated daily would be great!
This might take away from February 14th a
little bit, but think about how we would
feel with the whole world being in love
each and every day. I am starting to feel
a little like John Lennon and the Beatles.
I could have asked for every day to be like
Christmas, but I know that is way out of
bounds. It would take too many decorations
and too much money to make that work,even
for Hallmark. I will just keep asking for
the love day with the hope that someone(hint
hint)might just hear me and respond. Just
tell me you love me and show it by your
daily touch.
Happy Valentine's every day of the year.
She Said
But I like Valentine's Day and the fact that
it only comes once a year makes it really
special. Too much of a good thing diminishes
it's worth. For me, Valentine's Day has always
been a time to let my special someone and my
children know how much I love them.
On Valentine's Day, when the children were
still at home, I always had little gifts and
candy waiting for them in their chairs at
breakfast before they left for school. It was
a nice way to start their day. Of course my
significant other always received more presents
and or attention because like he said, it's a
day to show unconditional love.
You do bring up some good points, however.
Showering that special person with gifts, flowers,
candy every day wouldn't mean as much as little
acts of kindness such as helping out around the
house without being asked, planning a night out
as a surprise, or doing favors for in-laws. Those
are genuine acts of love and respect for our
relationship.
Remember the night we "kidnapped" our friends and
took them to a restaurant without telling them
where we were going? They even called their son
and laughingly told him that in case he didn't see
them again, they were with us! It was all in good
fun and they knew how much we cared about them.
We don't have to be "in" love with someone to show
them that we love them.
During the eulogy that you gave at the burial of
your best friend, it was extremely evident how
much you loved and cherished him. It didn't have
to be Valentine's Day for you to express those
feelings. At the funeral home visitation, our
former classmates expressed loving thoughts for
each other, which is what this time of year should
be...a reminder that on Valentine's Day,it would
be a good idea to tell all the special people in
your life that you love them.
Here is what I know about love.
It comes once a year on February 14th.
That is the one day that I know I am
loved. People tell me. Cards tell me.
Balloons tell me. On a good Valentine's
Day, candy even tells me.
Let's look at the other 364 days of the
year. Where are my presents? Where are
my cards? Where are my flowers? I want
to be loved all the year round. This
part-time love isn't working for me
anymore. I want everyday to be Valentine's
Day. Instead, every day is like Halloween,
spooky and scary.
According to Hallmark, every month there
is a holiday of some sort, but if they
had it their way, every day would be a
holiday. I am offering them that chance.
Make every day a day of Love. It would
certainly satisfy my love needs. I don't
require presents, cards, flowers, or candy
every day, even though I could get used
to it. However, a love nudge, holding hands,
a little kissy mouth, anything to let me
know I am appreciated daily would be great!
This might take away from February 14th a
little bit, but think about how we would
feel with the whole world being in love
each and every day. I am starting to feel
a little like John Lennon and the Beatles.
I could have asked for every day to be like
Christmas, but I know that is way out of
bounds. It would take too many decorations
and too much money to make that work,even
for Hallmark. I will just keep asking for
the love day with the hope that someone(hint
hint)might just hear me and respond. Just
tell me you love me and show it by your
daily touch.
Happy Valentine's every day of the year.
She Said
But I like Valentine's Day and the fact that
it only comes once a year makes it really
special. Too much of a good thing diminishes
it's worth. For me, Valentine's Day has always
been a time to let my special someone and my
children know how much I love them.
On Valentine's Day, when the children were
still at home, I always had little gifts and
candy waiting for them in their chairs at
breakfast before they left for school. It was
a nice way to start their day. Of course my
significant other always received more presents
and or attention because like he said, it's a
day to show unconditional love.
You do bring up some good points, however.
Showering that special person with gifts, flowers,
candy every day wouldn't mean as much as little
acts of kindness such as helping out around the
house without being asked, planning a night out
as a surprise, or doing favors for in-laws. Those
are genuine acts of love and respect for our
relationship.
Remember the night we "kidnapped" our friends and
took them to a restaurant without telling them
where we were going? They even called their son
and laughingly told him that in case he didn't see
them again, they were with us! It was all in good
fun and they knew how much we cared about them.
We don't have to be "in" love with someone to show
them that we love them.
During the eulogy that you gave at the burial of
your best friend, it was extremely evident how
much you loved and cherished him. It didn't have
to be Valentine's Day for you to express those
feelings. At the funeral home visitation, our
former classmates expressed loving thoughts for
each other, which is what this time of year should
be...a reminder that on Valentine's Day,it would
be a good idea to tell all the special people in
your life that you love them.
Monday, March 17, 2008
He Said She Said -Blended Families
He Said
Dating is hard.Marriage is hard. Divorce is hard.
None of them is as hard as trying to blend families.
If you have ever been married, divorced, and married
again, you know of what I speak. Don't get me wrong,
My fiancee' is the epitome of love, happiness and joy.
BUT(the old proverbial but) blended families are a
constant reminder of the trials and tribulations of
love.
It's not her. It's not her children. They are all great.
It's our differences and what we bring from our respective
families and other marriages that open up Pandora's Box.
Nothing she does is wrong; it's just different from
how I would handle certain situations. Not right. Not
wrong. Just different.
That doesn't mean I don't love her any less or think
that she is a bad mother; I just have another opinion.
She is a good mother and I do love her. Some of the
problems come from the excess baggage of our past
histories brought to the forefront from another life.
"What we bring from the past is an effort to blend it
into the future"...for our families of course.
Is that profound or what? Sometimes I amaze myself.
She Said
Blending families is a little like combining vanilla
and chocolate. It's hard to take two families who were
brought up in separate environments, taught to solve
problems differently,and expect them to blend into the
Brady Bunch overnight. Blend into what?
Foods blend, Drinks blend. People tend to segregate.
With the divorce rate so high, it seems that a child
living with both biological parents under the same
roof is rare. In split homes, there must be a lot of
give and take from everyone. Hopefully, everyone will
have the same goal in mind, which is to coexist peacefully
and support each other emotionally. The Hill and Oldham
children are adults and there has never been a cross
word from any of them, but what about families with
young children?
When young children are involved, there needs to be a
common set of rules by which all abide. I have often
wished there was a set of instructions for how to
peacefully set up housekeeping with stepfamilies,
but there is no "easy button".
Why don't we just drop the term "blended families" and
call it something else like "Chosen Ones" with the
common goal of our children being healthy, wealthy,
and wise instead of being like us, older, poorer, and forgetful?
Dating is hard.Marriage is hard. Divorce is hard.
None of them is as hard as trying to blend families.
If you have ever been married, divorced, and married
again, you know of what I speak. Don't get me wrong,
My fiancee' is the epitome of love, happiness and joy.
BUT(the old proverbial but) blended families are a
constant reminder of the trials and tribulations of
love.
It's not her. It's not her children. They are all great.
It's our differences and what we bring from our respective
families and other marriages that open up Pandora's Box.
Nothing she does is wrong; it's just different from
how I would handle certain situations. Not right. Not
wrong. Just different.
That doesn't mean I don't love her any less or think
that she is a bad mother; I just have another opinion.
She is a good mother and I do love her. Some of the
problems come from the excess baggage of our past
histories brought to the forefront from another life.
"What we bring from the past is an effort to blend it
into the future"...for our families of course.
Is that profound or what? Sometimes I amaze myself.
She Said
Blending families is a little like combining vanilla
and chocolate. It's hard to take two families who were
brought up in separate environments, taught to solve
problems differently,and expect them to blend into the
Brady Bunch overnight. Blend into what?
Foods blend, Drinks blend. People tend to segregate.
With the divorce rate so high, it seems that a child
living with both biological parents under the same
roof is rare. In split homes, there must be a lot of
give and take from everyone. Hopefully, everyone will
have the same goal in mind, which is to coexist peacefully
and support each other emotionally. The Hill and Oldham
children are adults and there has never been a cross
word from any of them, but what about families with
young children?
When young children are involved, there needs to be a
common set of rules by which all abide. I have often
wished there was a set of instructions for how to
peacefully set up housekeeping with stepfamilies,
but there is no "easy button".
Why don't we just drop the term "blended families" and
call it something else like "Chosen Ones" with the
common goal of our children being healthy, wealthy,
and wise instead of being like us, older, poorer, and forgetful?
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