Don't Just Sit There, Drink Something

Yesterday, I needed to drive 2 hours away from home for work and I felt the urge to load up on liquids like I was trekking across the desert on the back of a camel.  

I’m not sure what it is, but every time I travel more than 10 minutes by car, I can’t get enough liquid.  I plan and prepare for my long dry journey with the intensity and purpose of one embarking on an ultra-marathon.  Nothing can be left to chance.  Extras are permissible, but running out mid course would be tragic . . . even deadly.  Perhaps the air in the car is dryer than normal.  Perhaps seeing the scenery pass by in a blur gives my body the impression that I’m running really fast and thus the need to restore fluids...I’m not sure.  When my fluids do run dry, I go into panic mode.  The next exit can’t come quick enough.  About half way home yesterday, I saw a mirage of a giant Diet Mountain Dew bottle on the horizon.  I knew it was too good to be true, but I drove towards it just the same.  I didn’t look at my fuel gauge one time during the trip, but I checked the levels of my Dew about every 12 minutes.  “Check and Check.”

The more I think about it - the more I think its not the driving, but the sitting that triggers my thirst issues.  I don’t remember much about biology class...or chemistry...or whichever one talks about bodily organs - but I don’t believe either discussed any known linkage between sitting and thirst.  Maybe I’m a trend setter - maybe others face this problem quietly and I’m just the first to speak out on this most personal of struggles - or, maybe, I’m just a freak.

So, as I mentioned, the car is not the only place that this thirst happens.  It happens when I sit down.

I can be perfectly hydrated and then sit in front of the television and . . . BAM! . . . I’m thirsty.  The purpose of commercials, it seems, is to provide me with the opportunity to refuel.  If I could find a way to hook up a fire hose through the window in my den, I’d be a happy, hydrated man.  I’d also need to think about some sort of tiled flooring and a plastic covering for my sofa, but those details could come later. 

If I’m just hangin’ around the house or getting things done at work - no need for water, but as soon as I sit down somewhere all of the cells in my body scream for liquid.  You’ve heard the quote, “I think, therefore I am.”  - my version is just a bit different, “I sit, therefore I am...thirsty.”

Movie theater . . . same problem.  It’s as if I would actually wither up and die without a garbage can size of drink by my side.  The drinks at the theater are getting so big, in fact, they are going to need a seat remodel to enlarge the already massive cup holders that are provided.  There is a panic that takes place here at the theater as well.  If you told me that I wouldn’t be able to eat or drink for 2 hours, I’d be ok with that.  For some reason, however, when faced with this 2 hour fast while sitting in front of a movie screen...I must find the largest container in the building in order to satiate my thirst.  

It doesn’t take long before our talk of adding liquid makes us think about the eventual need to empty the liquid.  “Doesn’t this require a movie watching interruption on my part to go use the restroom”, you might ask?  Yes it does...and I am ok with that.  Sure, I’ll crawl across 15 strangers 8 times in 2 hours to use the restroom, but it is better than the alternative...dehydration and death.  Sure, it took me until the fourth time watching E.T. to find out that he actually made it home.  “Jerry Maguire” was ok, but I still haven’t seen the famous scene where someone says, “Show me the money!”  The only thing I remember about that movie was my own quote, “Show me the bathroom!”  But...at least I wasn’t thirsty.  (you’d think I could come up with some movie examples from this decade, but apparently...no)

Look, I’m not a doctor...but I’m pretty sure others face this same phenomenon.  Tell the truth...you are sitting down reading this sentence and you are drinking something right now aren’t you?  Don’t feel bad.  In fact, embrace this biological need.  “Sit, Drink and Be Merry.”

Hope you enjoyed your beverage...and your reading.

JJ

A Human Junk Drawer

When I was 6 years old, I rolled through life with little more than my wonderful little personality.  Sure, there was the occasional football or rock that I’d tote along, but for the most part...life was pretty simple.

By the time I reached college - I would carry my dorm room key (on a string) and my ID.  Life was changing, but it was still pretty simple.

Now, in my 30s, I’m starting down the slippery slope to becoming my own junk drawer.  When I leave the house, I have with me a cell phone, a wallet, keys and a watch.  That’s not bad, but I fear that my age is catching up with me.

I’ve begun to notice that with age - comes stuff.  This stuff is so important that we feel we must have it on our person at all times.  People talk about gaining weight as they grow older...most of this is probably just the addition of the stuff that we carry.  Bad backs and leg pain don’t just happen with age...they are born out of carrying of stuff for years upon years.

My parents visited recently and I saw this phenomenon first hand with my dad.  I asked my dad if he had a pen on him.  I knew the answer before I asked him because he always has a pen on him...usually more than one.  He started fishing around in his pants pockets and started pulling all of this stuff out in an effort to get to the pen(s).  No joke here - he brought the following items out of his pants pockets:  2 Cameras, A Cell Phone, A Wallet, A Handkerchief, A Knife, 2 Pens and $12.73 in change.  

Ok.  I didn’t actually count the change, but it was more than I’d had in my pockets over the past 6 years combined.  

What?!  How is that possible?  A human junk drawer.  2 cameras?!  Come on!  I’m not convinced that this was everything either...there could have been more, but I was afraid to ask.  What if I had asked for a skill saw?  What if I’d had needed a ladder?  Where would this have ended...or would it have?

I just took a quick glance around in my closet and . . . nope . . . there is not one pair of pants in there that could handle 2 cameras.  I don’t own a pair of pants that could handle $12 in change.  Are my pants going to change that much from now ‘til when I turn 65?  Is there some sort of special “Grandpa” Pants Store that I’m unaware of?  “You’ll like how much stuff you can carry...I guarantee it!”  

This is beginning to make sense though.  I’ve always seen old guys sitting on benches in malls.  I had always assumed that they were just bored of being at the mall...Wrong!  It turns out that they are just exhausted from all of the stuff they’ve been totin’ around.  I’d take some walk breaks too, if I was toting around all of that stuff. 

Women are the same way.  The older a lady gets, the bigger the purse...the more stuff.  My grandmother used to pull tomotoes and a full silverware set out of her purse - and this was just in preparation to eat at McDonald’s!  Imagine what else she had in there!  I once saw a lady pull a framed 8X10 picture of her grandbaby out of her purse.  The picture was actually larger than her granddaughter!

People, people, people...let’s get a grip.  Home is where the heart is...and it should be where you keep most of your stuff too.  Shouldn’t we at least agree that you should limit the number of cameras you carry to one...unless you work for Sports Illustrated?  Shouldn’t we cap how much change you carry to $4 or less...Unless you work in an arcade or at a nickel casino?

Look, I’m not sure what it is about age and stuff, but this is certainly true.  Test it out for yourself.  Find your nearest elder and ask to borrow something...anything...they have it.  

Have a great day, and take some walk breaks today if you need ‘em.  Hope you have enjoyed reading.

JJ

M&M's and Broccoli

Recently, I had the good fortune of being in the same room as a chocolate fountain.  That’s right - silky smooth chocolate cascading down, what seemed like, a 30 foot silver alter.  

I dipped strawberries, bananas and other goodies into the chocolate.  My friends and I joked that at least we were eating fruit along with the chocolate.  It’s not like we were just eating chocolate!  Let’s be honest though, its not like we were just eating fruit either!

This got me thinking about my eating habits.  I like to run and work out.  I try to stay in shape and making healthy food choices is part of that.  I’m afraid though, that I’ve put my finger on a weak area in my eating habits.  Similar to the fruit and chocolate - I often find ways to mix healthy choices with unhealthy ones.

Broccoli is obviously a great choice.  It seems that everytime I eat broccoli, however, I add a pound of cheese to go with it.  I’m not a Nutritionist, but I don’t think I’m taking full advantage of the benefits of broccoli when its saturated in processed cheese.  Raw broccoli is supposed to be great for you, but come on...that's just nasty.

A nice healthy salad is something that no one could argue with, right?  Well, many could argue with the way that I consume this healthy staple.  Its the dressing...and the cheese...and the bacon...croutons...and don’t forget the eggs and fried chicken.  By the time I am finished - I’ve basically got a lot of junk and 3 pieces of lettuce.  Another fail.

Unfortunately, this trend doesn’t happen in reverse for me.  I’m never eating m&m’s and think, “This could really use some fruit.”  Smelling bacon being cooked doesn’t make me long for spinach...or an apple.  I have never, I repeat - Never, have I been eating a candy bar and then reached for cauliflower and asparagus to go with it.  If I start out with a healthy choice, I've got a decent chance of finishing well.  If I start with a bad choice...there exists no opportunity of redemption.  It seems that healthy foods are the last thing on my mind when I'm knee deep in an M&M's bag.

If I’m eating carrotts and they just taste a bit “off”, I stop eating.  Why would I continue?  If I’m eating cookies and they just taste a bit “off”, I keep eating.  Why would I waste a cookie.  When I finish the cookie I may say, “That cookie wasn’t very good!”  At least I gave it a shot though, right?

Well, you can see where my eating plan takes a hit.  

Back to that chocolate fountain...do you know what would absolutely be the best thing to dip into the chocolate?  A chocolate candy bar.  (And not a “fun size” bar either...see previous blog post)  Chocolate on chocolate...doesn’t get any better.

Here’s to chocolate.  Here’s to holding to a great eating plan.  And here’s to hoping that you enjoyed reading.

JJ

Hot Sauce

I was standing at the counter at Tasty Taco, a local taco joint in Des Moines.  A lady was called up to pick up her food and she told the Tasty Taco employee that she would be needing some “Really Hot, Hot Sauce”.  She was pretty confident that the normal “hot sauce” that is passed out to the thousands who walk through the doors each day just wouldn’t cut it.  She was special.  She was going to need the military grade hot sauce.  She seemed to take pride in her insistence that she’d need special sauce.

I get that some people just honestly like hot food, but what is it about “hot” stuff that make people brag to a great extent about their ability to eat something “hotter” than normal.  People who love to eat hot things seem to love to brag about how they can handle anything.  They also love to point out what is not “hot” to them.

“You think that’s hot??!  Come on!  I’ve eaten MUCH hotter!”  

“Do you have any hot sauce that I can put on this hot sauce?”

“Is there any way that you could actually set this food on fire once I put it in my mouth?”

The reverse of this spicy argument isn’t the same.  No one ever brags about their ability to eat bland foods.  No one ever says, “You think this is bland?  No way, I’ve had much more bland foods before.” Other types of foods don’t draw the same type of pride.  No one ever brags about tolerating more salt or butter than the next person.  Cinnamon generally never make it into this discussion.

People do like to talk about their relationship with food, don’t they?  I can’t go week without hearing someone say something about what they can or can’t “tolerate”.  Below are a few thoughts related to our relationship with food...

Top Ten Food Comments That You’d Rather Not Hear:

10.  “I can’t have caffeine after 9am or I’ll be awake all night!”  

  9.  “Oh, No.  I’ll pass on the cheese...it really messes with my system.”

  8.  “This sandwich needs more Mayo...It can’t get enough mayo...I eat it on everything!”

  7.  “If I have one bite of bread, my toes will start to itch.”

  6.  “Really?  You can only eat 6 donuts?  I can put down a full baker’s dozen!”

  5.  “If I eat seeds of any kind, I’ll be out of commission for a week!”

  4.  “I could drink acid, before I would dare eat any type of lettuce!”

  3.  “A lot of people can’t handle beans, but I eat ‘em all day long and I’m just fine.”

  2.  “Oh, I can’t have carbs...I’ll blow up like a parade balloon.”

and the Number One Food Comment That You’d Rather Not Hear is...

“I’ll pass on the ice cream...I’d rather not spend my whole weekend in the bathroom!”

Thanks for reading.  Hope you have a great week without any food episodes.

JJ

-By the way, "Tasty Taco" is the best around.  If you are near Des Moines, Its worth the trip.

Expiration Dates

I never pour a glass of milk without checking the expiration date.  I never eat yogurt (or anything for that matter) without first checking the all important date of expiration.  I value these parameters given to me by the manufactuer.  It gives me a sense of safety and security.  It lets me know when I can proceed with complete confidence and when I should shut it down.

Not only do I appreciate these parameters, but I never argue with them.  I never say, “Even though the date on the milk says its expired, I’m gonna give it a try anyway!”  No way!  If it says it . . . I’m doin’ it!

Why don’t clothing manufactuers give us expiration dates for our clothes?

This seems like an absolutely logical line of thinking.  Just like with food, clothing is made with a certain time frame in mind.  Can it be used after such time period has expired?  Yes, but why would you want to?

I saw a guy the other day wearing a pastel shirt and a white sport coat.  Really?  No, let me just say, “Really?”  When was Miami Vice on . . . 1987?  If you were a Miami Vice fan you may be thinking, “Were his sleeves pushed up?”  My answer to your pleading question would be, “Yes.  Yes they were.”

Yesterday there was a man wearing shorts with long white socks with big stripes at the top.  Wow!  He would have been totally groovy in the 1970s, but . . . now?  I have a picture of me wearing such socks in 1982 and, even then, I think I was a few years past the expiration date.  What were these guys thinking?  What was I thinking?

These guys actually went to their closet and said to themselves, “Should I pull this little gem out today.  Why, yes I should.  This will be perfect for today.”

If you know me, you know that I am not on the cutting edge of fashion.  I’m not exactly an expert.  I don’t have to be an expert, however, to see some things that make me nervous.  We’ve all seen people wearing some things that any expiration date should just simply say, “Never”.  These are items that have never been a good idea.  Below are the:

     

    Top Ten Things That You Should Never Wear:

10.  A winter hat with the furry ear flaps

  9.  Dress Shoes with No Socks

  8.  Sunglasses turned backwards on the back of your head or neck

  7.  Shorts, Dress Shoes and Black Socks.  

  6.  A beret (unless you are special forces...even then, let’s not wear it too often)

  5.  A Sweater draped and Tied Over Your Shoulders

  4.  Anything a size too small or a size too big

  3.  Anything with writing across the rear

  2.  Leg Warmers or anything else you might have seen worn on “Glee”

And the Number One Thing That You Should Never Wear is...

        Spandex...anything

Hope you’ve enjoyed reading today.  If you happen to be wearing numbers 8, 7 and 6 all together today ... just go with it.  If you move forward with enough confidence, maybe you’ll start a new trend.

JJ

Mesh Netting and Bongo Drums at the Farmer's Market

I recently went to the local Farmer’s Market to enjoy a morning out with family and friends.  We were hoping for an enjoyable, family friendly time within our community.  We did have a good time, but there was one event that was . . . life changing.  

I don’t want to oversell this, but I now think differently about humanity than I did before Saturday morning.  Questions of the Universe have now been answered.  Colors now seem more vibrant.  Oxygen tastes sweeter.  The Jackal does indeed dance with the Tortoise as the moon gazes from his perch.

There we were walking through vendors and surrounded by fresh fruit, flowers and vegetables when we encountered . . . them.

I don’t know that I have ever envisioned what a belly dancing troupe would look like, but if I had . . . I would have been wrong.  Very very wrong.

First of all, the 9 or 10 dancers that were performing for us were . . . how should I say this?  They were not the youngest people in the crowd.  Nor were they leanest performers that I’d ever encountered.  I’d have to estimate that these ladies were all between the ages of 50-70.  Hey, I’m all in favor of seniors getting out in the community and getting their exercise on, but this format seemed a bit unusual and quite simply . . . a little too revealing.  Did they have the right to display their midsections under mesh netting?  Yes they did, but why would they have chosen to?  This could best be described as an “Infertility Dance.”

Trauma.  Undulations.  Fear.  Movement.  Danger.  Did I mention fear?

“What were they wearing”, you may ask?   I’m not even sure where one would purchase these types of outfits - they were definitely unique.  What my family and I witnessed was a symphony of sequins, mesh netting, flowing black material, bells and live snakes.  The snakes were, I’m sure, an effort to draw us into the danger and slithering nature of the senior belly dancing scene in Des Moines.  (I didn’t even know we had such a scene!)  I must admit that while we weren’t fully drawn into this scene, we were quite transfixed upon the “lead dancer” and her ability to bring us to edge of ourselves . . . and then invite us to take a leap.

The Mariah Carey soundtrack was blasting in the background.  I distinctly remember hearing bongo drums from somewhere deep within the crowd.  The smell of goat cheese was suffocating.  Children were bustling about while their parents stood in horror.  Cameras were clicking and people were gasping.  In a series of confusing internal moments - we moved seamlessly from mockery to admiration and then to intrigue.  

“Now would be the perfect time to leave”, we reasoned.  Yet, we stood in silence . . . at the edge of nirvana . . . held powerless by her hypnotizing gaze.  She was, “The green Mamba.”

Questions scaled our walls and invaded our minds.  “Will the mesh netting hold?”  “Where were her teeth?”  “What’s up with the goat cheese?”  And perhaps most importantly was, “Is this the beginning of the end as the Mayans have foretold?”

After several solitary moments alone in the crowd, my friend from out of state looked to me.  His eyes, frozen in the moment, told a story of hope and yet were wrought with fear.  He was obviously deeply affected by the rhythm and reality that was displayed before us.  With caution in his voice, he asked, “Is this heaven?”  

“No, this is Iowa.”

JJ - with the vital input and the recent life changing experiences of my friend...Chad Sams 

Father's Day

Father’s Day is less than a week away and my sister and I thought that we’d reflect a bit on all things Norman...that’s our dad.  

Dad’s are good for a lot of things...and by a lot of things, I mean they are good for teaching you how to throw a ball and for destroying the family bathroom.  We’d like to share a few things that our dad has taught us over the years.

_______________________

He was an engineer by trade and, for some reason, he thought that Hannah and I were able to follow his logic and reasoning.  By the time that we were around 10 years old, we both had learned how things worked.  We knew why the microwave could cook so efficiently - we knew how the car radio picked up signals - we knew how our Atari controller moved the men we saw on the screen.  The conversation would always start, “You see, there are these 4 little buttons and these buttons must correspond.....”  Forty-five minutes later, we knew it all.

I say that we “knew” these things...what I mean to say is that we knew how to nod and say, “Oh, I see” at the appropriate times.

_______________________

It could be almost any Friday night in the ‘80s and you could find our family eating pizza.  Inevitably, we would saw through the pizza pretty quickly with one solitary slice remaining on the table.

That’s when Norman, our beloved father would spring into action.  He would look at the lonely slice on the table and then look around at his loving family.  He would look his offspring in the eyes and then his glance would turn back to the slice.  Back at us then back to the slice again.

He would then pick up the slice of pizza and direct it towards his mouth, but would stop just inches from the goal line.  Then he would say to his loving and trusting family, “Oh...I’m sorry...did anyone else want the last slice?”  This is where his genius was most evident - this would be said with a slight quiver of the bottom lip and a frail look about himself.  

I wonder what the last slice of pizza tastes like?  Well played Norman, well played.

________________________

Some dads blend in with the crowd...not our dad.  No matter where we were or how large the crowd - he was easy to find.  It wasn’t that he was freakishly tall or wore brightly colored clothing...it was...a sound.

You had to listen closely, but if you concentrated long enough you could hear him.  Our dad was a drummer in high school and the rhythm bug never quite left him.  You could hear the rat-a-tat-tat over the drone of any noise.  Keys and change in the pocket make for a very dramatic percussion set.  Rat-a-tat-tat-boom-siska-boom-rat-a-tat-tat-kapow-tisk-tat- drumroll and BIG Finish!  “Oh, Dad, there you are!”

______________________

What do we have to say to our dad?

Thanks for teaching us about the 4 little buttons in the atari controller...and for teaching us so many things along the way.

Thanks for sparing us that last slice of pizza...carbs are a hidden killer.  Thanks for taking one for the family.

Thanks for not blending in with the crowd.  Anyone can have a dad that just blends in...we are so grateful that we have one that dances to the beat of a different drummer.

We love you and...you are the best!

______________________

Take time this week to connect with your dad and say thanks.  If your dad isn’t eligible for one of the “#1 Dad” mugs - connect with someone who has encouraged you and supported you over the years.  

What will keep me up nights is knowing that my 5 year old daughter will one day write a Father’s Day blog.

Happy Father’s Day.

JJ