Weblog 121
June 01, 2008~ 12:00am
Strange things happen in our relation to time as we age. Time becomes the enemy- or the 'old friend' if thinking of old times- time becomes 'person'. It's like a real being we need to keep watching to make sure it's still there. The older we become, the more this is so because time is melting before our eyes.
I had the strangest conversation with my 87 year old mother when I called her from work one morning this week. She was discombobulated, stammering- trying to explain what an awful night she'd had. "What happened? What's wrong, Ma?"- and she proceeded to sketch out, albeit disjointedly, that she woke in the middle of the night and the clock was blinking zeros; inexplicably, that was so upsetting to her that the digital clock on her nightstand and the clock in the kitchen- and on the microwave- all showed red zeros- must have felt like she'd disappeared or stepped outside of time, and at 87, there is precious little time left, so she keeps track.
I asked her if she'd had a nightmare- perhaps one of those 'old hag' night terrors where it feels as though the breath is being crushed out of you-- and there is a terrible heaviness-- I get that sometimes. At 87, that would be terrifying-
feeling that you're not alone, and being oppressed by something beyond explanation, like being sat upon. But all she could tell me is that she didn't know what time it was- and then became so upset that she couldn't fall back to sleep. Of course, her electricity had gone out for a while, that's all....but 'No Time'. No time known absolutely. No reassurance that the minutes, the hours are there, and that you know where and what you are-- it's as though a friend has suddenly gotten up and left-- the one who holds our hand, and now, there are no hands...
At mum's advanced age, there is no reason to rise at a certain hour, no job to get to- no appointment to meet- but perhaps that's why TIME ITSELF becomes the thing to mind. Knowing that at 6:00 a.m. is rising- banana and cereal, rosary hour on TV- then naptime again. And then this television show or the next, and the sound of cars going off to work-- to put an hour to it, is a comfort I suppose. A known.
Then of course as we age there is the last appointment- and we do not know the hour of that one: one vistor we are most fearful of finding on the doorstep-
- the one who comes to take it away...all time...the Time Thief is the one who claims it all at last...who steals the minutes, hours, seconds. Maybe that's why the blinking "0:00" disturbed her so; one day I'll know. But even now, a part of me understands. I watch the clock as well.
June 01, 2008~ 8:00pm
Every Sunday, my mother and I have the salad bar at the local "Eat 'n' Park" restaurant. We like to pick among the soups and hot specials, the rolls and desserts....it's just fun to do that, gabbing the whole time. But since Mum's breathing and her walking are pretty compromised by COPD and severe arthritis, we always ask for a window booth right alongside the salad bar. Less walking for her- (and she does like to select her own foods. Won't let me do it for her.) Often these are the choice seats, but even when they still need to be bussed, the hostesses always lead us back, and clear off the table, no problem. Today.......we had a bitch from hell. How would you like to say, "Two. A booth by the window, please. There's one vacant, but it needs to be cleaned off"- and be met by this...
after which she asked our name, gave a bored, pissed-off sigh, and wrote our names in CRAYON on a "list"- on which we were the only names- there was no one else waiting. She then sashayed off, shuffling slowly, promptly forgetting us, determined to 'punish us' by asking for her to do a little work, like....uh..........like CLEAR THE DAMNED TABLE!
It would've taken, what?......30 SECONDS? But no. She left us standing there and just disappeared. Didn't ask a busboy to get it, didn't do a damned thing.
Maybe it's me, but I expect a certain cheerfulness from--- what's the word?--- "servers"--- when I visit a restaurant. I expect this
and to be fair, that's damn near what we usually get, except from this one hostess. She's a lazy cow is all, and resentful of having to- (oh my GOD!)- WORK! when she's on the job. We were being taught a lesson by a sullen teen, ferchissakes! After 10 minutes I walked up to the counter, caught the eye of a waiter and asked HIM if he'd please clear the table and let my mother sit down- that we were on a damn..... list..... but that we were the only name ON the list, and the only people waiting. I told him, looking pointedly into the pouting face of that useless hostess-- "She's the one, and she did it on purpose. Gave us the STINKEYE, and is making us wait because she was too damned lazy to either CLEAR THE DAMN TABLE HERSELF OR GET SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT!" She turned on her heel and dragged her feet and her lazy ass elsewhere.
How can restaurants allow unsupervised teens to run a place? Where was the manager today? Not there, believe me. I LOOKED for him. Probably at home, in front of the TV, glad to be away from the hormonal nonsense of pubescent bitches, no doubt. Again.. this was a first for that place, but I guaran-damn-TEE it will be the last that will happen to us. What a lazy, surly, spoiled brat. And nothing will happen, nobody will be told, because the manager wasn't there. That's why I'm posting it in here. "EAT 'N' PARK", BETHEL PARK, PA. L-I-B-R-A-R-Y ROAD.
June 03, 2008~ 6:30pm
Yesterday was a crap day. I was in a nasty funk. You ever get that way--all snarly and balled up inside, sort of cranky and miserable, but in an amorphous way, nothing focused?
Whenever that happens to me...I do think to check my...
SEE?? This was yesterday for 8/21/51 (my birth date)- and wow, that's some sad-looking curve. LOL!!! But like a plane in a nose dive, I've just as inexplicably pulled up and out of it. If you'd like to dabble a bit in finding your biorhythms, visit Biorhythm Generator.
Just scroll down, and fill in your birthday. The theory is that we all have 3 basic tides inside us: physical, emotional and intellectual. They ebb and flow at a fairly constant rate. Like a horoscope, these are based upon BIRTH DATE.
* physical (23 days), describing your physical energy, reflexes, strength, stamina
* emotional (28 days), describing your emotional stability and empathy
* intellectual (33 days), describing your mental aptitude, creativity and problem-solving capabilities
At any point where the curve either crosses the central line or intersects with another curve, there is the possibility for imbalance. Like my chart above though, when curves bottom out......ouch.......they bottom out, and you can't expect too much in those areas on those wonderful days.
Even if this is a 'crock', it's still an interesting thing to check out. As I did yesterday when I got home from work, lugging a deadweight over my head, and I wondered why. Like me, could be you've tanked in one or two of your energy cycles. All is flux. (And sometimes........all is fu*ked). 'Tis life.
June 04, 2008~ 5:15am
OBAMA! Great day in the morning! Sometimes, we can get things right! The world feels cleaner, suddenly. O America......keep going.....hip, hip.....hooray!
That says it all. 'Audacious'.....you bet. And it's been a long time coming.
***
(Return To Weekly Archives)
Strange things happen in our relation to time as we age. Time becomes the enemy- or the 'old friend' if thinking of old times- time becomes 'person'. It's like a real being we need to keep watching to make sure it's still there. The older we become, the more this is so because time is melting before our eyes.
I had the strangest conversation with my 87 year old mother when I called her from work one morning this week. She was discombobulated, stammering- trying to explain what an awful night she'd had. "What happened? What's wrong, Ma?"- and she proceeded to sketch out, albeit disjointedly, that she woke in the middle of the night and the clock was blinking zeros; inexplicably, that was so upsetting to her that the digital clock on her nightstand and the clock in the kitchen- and on the microwave- all showed red zeros- must have felt like she'd disappeared or stepped outside of time, and at 87, there is precious little time left, so she keeps track.
I asked her if she'd had a nightmare- perhaps one of those 'old hag' night terrors where it feels as though the breath is being crushed out of you-- and there is a terrible heaviness-- I get that sometimes. At 87, that would be terrifying-
feeling that you're not alone, and being oppressed by something beyond explanation, like being sat upon. But all she could tell me is that she didn't know what time it was- and then became so upset that she couldn't fall back to sleep. Of course, her electricity had gone out for a while, that's all....but 'No Time'. No time known absolutely. No reassurance that the minutes, the hours are there, and that you know where and what you are-- it's as though a friend has suddenly gotten up and left-- the one who holds our hand, and now, there are no hands...
At mum's advanced age, there is no reason to rise at a certain hour, no job to get to- no appointment to meet- but perhaps that's why TIME ITSELF becomes the thing to mind. Knowing that at 6:00 a.m. is rising- banana and cereal, rosary hour on TV- then naptime again. And then this television show or the next, and the sound of cars going off to work-- to put an hour to it, is a comfort I suppose. A known.
Then of course as we age there is the last appointment- and we do not know the hour of that one: one vistor we are most fearful of finding on the doorstep-
- the one who comes to take it away...all time...the Time Thief is the one who claims it all at last...who steals the minutes, hours, seconds. Maybe that's why the blinking "0:00" disturbed her so; one day I'll know. But even now, a part of me understands. I watch the clock as well.
June 01, 2008~ 8:00pm
Every Sunday, my mother and I have the salad bar at the local "Eat 'n' Park" restaurant. We like to pick among the soups and hot specials, the rolls and desserts....it's just fun to do that, gabbing the whole time. But since Mum's breathing and her walking are pretty compromised by COPD and severe arthritis, we always ask for a window booth right alongside the salad bar. Less walking for her- (and she does like to select her own foods. Won't let me do it for her.) Often these are the choice seats, but even when they still need to be bussed, the hostesses always lead us back, and clear off the table, no problem. Today.......we had a bitch from hell. How would you like to say, "Two. A booth by the window, please. There's one vacant, but it needs to be cleaned off"- and be met by this...
after which she asked our name, gave a bored, pissed-off sigh, and wrote our names in CRAYON on a "list"- on which we were the only names- there was no one else waiting. She then sashayed off, shuffling slowly, promptly forgetting us, determined to 'punish us' by asking for her to do a little work, like....uh..........like CLEAR THE DAMNED TABLE!
It would've taken, what?......30 SECONDS? But no. She left us standing there and just disappeared. Didn't ask a busboy to get it, didn't do a damned thing.
Maybe it's me, but I expect a certain cheerfulness from--- what's the word?--- "servers"--- when I visit a restaurant. I expect this
and to be fair, that's damn near what we usually get, except from this one hostess. She's a lazy cow is all, and resentful of having to- (oh my GOD!)- WORK! when she's on the job. We were being taught a lesson by a sullen teen, ferchissakes! After 10 minutes I walked up to the counter, caught the eye of a waiter and asked HIM if he'd please clear the table and let my mother sit down- that we were on a damn..... list..... but that we were the only name ON the list, and the only people waiting. I told him, looking pointedly into the pouting face of that useless hostess-- "She's the one, and she did it on purpose. Gave us the STINKEYE, and is making us wait because she was too damned lazy to either CLEAR THE DAMN TABLE HERSELF OR GET SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT!" She turned on her heel and dragged her feet and her lazy ass elsewhere.
How can restaurants allow unsupervised teens to run a place? Where was the manager today? Not there, believe me. I LOOKED for him. Probably at home, in front of the TV, glad to be away from the hormonal nonsense of pubescent bitches, no doubt. Again.. this was a first for that place, but I guaran-damn-TEE it will be the last that will happen to us. What a lazy, surly, spoiled brat. And nothing will happen, nobody will be told, because the manager wasn't there. That's why I'm posting it in here. "EAT 'N' PARK", BETHEL PARK, PA. L-I-B-R-A-R-Y ROAD.
June 03, 2008~ 6:30pm
Yesterday was a crap day. I was in a nasty funk. You ever get that way--all snarly and balled up inside, sort of cranky and miserable, but in an amorphous way, nothing focused?
SEE?? This was yesterday for 8/21/51 (my birth date)- and wow, that's some sad-looking curve. LOL!!! But like a plane in a nose dive, I've just as inexplicably pulled up and out of it. If you'd like to dabble a bit in finding your biorhythms, visit Biorhythm Generator.
Just scroll down, and fill in your birthday. The theory is that we all have 3 basic tides inside us: physical, emotional and intellectual. They ebb and flow at a fairly constant rate. Like a horoscope, these are based upon BIRTH DATE.
* physical (23 days), describing your physical energy, reflexes, strength, stamina
* emotional (28 days), describing your emotional stability and empathy
* intellectual (33 days), describing your mental aptitude, creativity and problem-solving capabilities
At any point where the curve either crosses the central line or intersects with another curve, there is the possibility for imbalance. Like my chart above though, when curves bottom out......ouch.......they bottom out, and you can't expect too much in those areas on those wonderful days.
Even if this is a 'crock', it's still an interesting thing to check out. As I did yesterday when I got home from work, lugging a deadweight over my head, and I wondered why. Like me, could be you've tanked in one or two of your energy cycles. All is flux. (And sometimes........all is fu*ked). 'Tis life.
June 04, 2008~ 5:15am
OBAMA! Great day in the morning! Sometimes, we can get things right! The world feels cleaner, suddenly. O America......keep going.....hip, hip.....hooray!
That says it all. 'Audacious'.....you bet. And it's been a long time coming.
(Return To Weekly Archives)
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