Chipwrecked

I'm all about food. I should be...I work at a grocery store. I live, breathe, and ah...eat it. Every single day. I see the good, the bad, and the "what the H were they thinking?"

Take chips, for instance. On Saturdays before leaving, I browse through each aisle looking for a treat. One needs that special treat when one's watching TV late at night, am I right girls? Sooo...here I go, looking for that special something when what do I see? Hot Dog-flavored potato chips. Yes, you read that right.

OMG...is nothing sacred? I don't know about you, but when I eat a hot dog, I want the chips nestled beside my dog, not in it. Besides, if you skip the dogs entirely, aren't you putting a lot of people at the hot dog packaging plants out of work?

Let's not forget the hot-dog buns. Two industries; dead. Kaput. Wait! What about wherever the meat comes from? (No, I don't know and don't tell me and yes, I do know they don't come from trees. How dumb do you think I am? Don't answer that, it's one of those retro questions) But doesn't this strange combination of chips put those folks out of biz as well?

Food science has gone crazy, if you ask me. It's a dang chipwreck! Already there are:

• dill pickle potato chips
• BLT (bacon, lettuce and tomato) chips
• ketchup potato chips (um...I LOVE these...they should call them Ketchips!)
• pizza-tasting chips
• sour cream
• Parmesan and herb
• salt and vinegar
• BBQ, Onion, and on and on.

So why am I ranting about chips? Think about it...if this industry is so smart, why haven't they made any chocolate-flavored chips? Margarita-flavored chips? OREO-FLAVORED CHIPS, for Pete's sake? How hard could it be?

I'm thinking of boycotting the entire industry (except the Ketchips) until they meet my demands. Who's with me?

JJ - Once again tirelessly thinking for the entire world. Sigh...I doooo what I cannn.

Share
|

The Queen Speaks on Aging...or What Seniors Know

My friend Ruth wrote a blog on aging. You can read it Here. I read it twice to absorbed the wisdom there, and to enjoy feeling good about my age.

I have some thoughts of my own about aging. Since my brain (yes, I have one) is so full of "stuff," I thought I'd spit them out making room for more...ah...stuff. And you thought this was just another pretty face, am I right? Peeshaw...


Senior Queen's Top 10 Reasons Aging is a Good Thang

1. Seniors know that singing out loud every day will exercise and flex-i-ze your jaw muscles. Guess what? This makes it possible to cram six Oreo's into your mouth at one time - instead of the customary five. Singing in the car is a good time to get in that exercise. Ignore people who point, stare, and giggle at red lights. They are probably communist and don't eat Oreo's.

2. Seniors know that ugly feet are normal and anyway, who gives a rip? When was the last time you heard a man say, "Oh Bro! I just have to ask that babe out...did you get a load of her feet? They just don't make um like that anymore."

3. Seniors know that wrinkles = laughs. If you aren't laughing, then you are probably dead, or you wish you were. Me? I'm soooo alive.

4. Seniors know that goal setting began with someone who had bad habits they wanted to change. Bad habits are an art form and can take many years to develop properly. Think it through, peeps. No bad habits = no goals in life. Duh? If you don't have any bad habits, there again, you are probably dead. Me? Oh honey, I'm so, so, alive. (You can add another "so" in there)

5. Flabby arms have multiple uses. If we didn't have them, how would one permanently indent our "grandmaw" scent into the grand-children's tiny brains? They will recall it years down the road. I know I do. Flabby arms and hugging children tightly, also comes in handy when they want to repeat to your friend what you said about them last week. Tip: When children turn blue, lighten up your hold just a tad till friend is out of sight. See? Do I have to do all the thinking for you people? Sigh...it's hard being the Queen.

6. Seniors have learned that when a store announces proudly, "No, I'm sorry, we don't offer Senior Discounts," a pretend heart attack will get you 10% off, immediately...if for no reason other than to get you off their floor and out the door. Mention loose bowels and you get 25%! Have a REAL heart attack (this is optional) nets you 50%! No, don't thank me, I dooo what I cannn.

7. Seniors are wise and grasped the art of multitasking even at a younger age...say, like 50. For instance, if you didn't have a big tummy, where the heck would you sit your plate of food while watching TV, or playing Solitaire?

8. Seniors know that attending funerals and saying, "Don't she/he look good?" is mandatory. Taking BBQ and potato salad to their home afterwards; however, is reserved only for Southern Seniors. If I'm not mistaken, Northern Seniors take some sort of macaroni salad and/or dead moose.

9. Seniors know that volunteering at the local hospital not only provides insider information as to who kick the bucket that day, but allows you to be the first to deliver your homemade potato salad. Or dead moose; depending on your location.

10. Seniors know that the REAL goals in life are to tell family and friends how deeply you care for them, and make someone feel good today, if only for a moment. Do it just because you can, not because they owe you twenty bucks. Be good to yourself. Eat an Oreo or two...or five, sing in the car, take a friend to lunch (me), walk among nature, love a dog, cat, or a moose (alive, preferably), but most of all, love yourself.

JJ - loving God, family, life, and herself. In that order.   

Share
|

The Final Good-bye...or is it?

Writing is sacred to me. I haven't written in such a long time; mainly because my heart didn't have anything to say. You see, when I write, it's a window to my core. It tells the world what's going on inside of me.

To some, that's scary. Don't worry, your secrets are as safe as a Mother's love. Or as my dear friend Nancy used to say, "I'll keep it as good a secret as you did." Ouch!

Nancy kept me grounded and no whining. What kind of friend is that?

The truest kind. The kind of friend that finds the good in others even when you have to dig to China to find one morsel of good. One that will shake you and say, "Enough already! Put your big girl panties on and deal with it. Now, let's go have some Chinese food. That and duct tape can fix anything."

You know, she was right.

Nancy died. A disease ravaged her body and claimed a sad victory. First, I was angry at Nancy for supposedly giving up and leaving. Then sadness overwhelmed my soul. Mix that with the anger and what do you get? A woman who could walk upright under a snake's belly. I've never been lower.

I wasn't there when Nancy died, but I knew the instant she left. Gut? A solid, 40-year friendship? Dunno. I just know I felt something leave my heart.

It's taken me months to realize that it wasn't Nancy leaving that I felt that day, and it wasn't "the final good-bye." Nor was she making a hole in my heart to be filled up with endless tears. Always the organizer, Nancy was simply making room for all the memories to nestle in, get comfy, and nudge me on days when the loss seemed unbearable. Like today.

I miss my traveling buddy, my girl-pal, my confidant. I have so much to tell her; so much has happened. I'd write her a letter only I don't have stamps and let's face it, my "mail" person can't hit MY mailbox. So what are the odds my post would make it to Heaven?

I'd call, but I couldn't afford the long-distance charges, although AT&T would declare me their new, best friend.

So for today, like so many others, I'll gently retrieve the memories from their permanent home. I'll laugh, I'll cry and I'll hold conversations that only Nancy and I would understand.

I'll massage each and every memory until the edges are worn. Then, just like a favorite book that's been devoured again and again, I'll place them back where they belong. Most of all, I'll thank her for always being there...and for being here now.

I'll look for you in the clouds.JJ - BFF cloud watcher...

Share
|