Chores I don’t like: all of them. A special don’t like favorite: loading and unloading the dishwasher. Although I have to say, doing the dishes by hand was a lot worse.
We had several power outages yesterday and when I went to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer, I couldn’t open the doors. Although the power was on again, neither unit had any. Ed managed to unfreeze the dryer, but the washer was still locked and full of clothes.I have no socks. The GE guy came today. The electrical board is shot and repair and labor will take it to $500 and change and a new one is $650 or so, so we are getting a new washer.
Ed is attending a Guardian Association meeting at the Marriott Key Biscayne in Miami and won’t be back for four days. The repair guy told me how to order a new washer and get a rebate, so I checked with Ed, and will do that.
Ed is traveling with Pam, his guardian lawyer,in her car, a fancy little red number, and I am relieved he is not driving on his own because he is not feeling great and I was worried about him driving long hours and not eating (which is what he does when he is on the road). Ed had to do this meeting because it gives courses and he needs to maintain credits to continue as a guardian. He said he doesn’t learn anything, that he could teach what they are giving out, and the other guardians are “little old ladies” (ouch) who don’t know much. At least he has Pam to talk to. She is a legal whiz. He also said that breakfast was $22 and he is complaining about the prices.
My favorite things to do are playing the piano, reading, writing political opinion, seeing friends, and I play Freecell which can be addictive, but it relaxes me. And there’s working out, which I force myself to do. I used to keep in shape by going to ballet class and it had everything – music and choreography and working on a killer technique and using every bit of your body and soaring through the air – what a high. Last class I had, when I was 79, in New York on a visit, I was still really jumping and as I sailed through the air, I thought “this is living.” At the end of class, this particular teacher would give 32 jumps with a beat instead of the court dance (reverence) that is traditional. I would do them all, then collapse and croak, “Call 911.” Sometimes we were paired off for duets. There was a young Asian fellow who was often my partner because he wasn’t tall and neither am I. While visiting his country overseas, he was killed in a car crash. I don’t remember his name anymore.
Working out is a chore these days because there is no music. But I force myself to stretch and do supported jumps and 25 push-ups. Avoiding workouts is not an option. I used to swim but I don’t like getting wet anymore. I used to do ballet jumps in the pool. I do love looking at it though. There’s the pool, the lawn, and the bay and in the distance, the mangrove islands that are federally protected and can’t be developed. I might swim if I had someone to join me. Ed won’t – he has been in the pool maybe twice in 16 years.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in doctor’s waiting rooms lately. The magazines are mostly show biz and I have some interest, but have to say they really do cater to the adolescent mind. And the fashions of the current lovelies are awful. They were born style dumb it seems. And I really don’t care who they are dating or why they want to have babies. The women sometimes choose guys who look as if they belong in Attica.
30 is the best age to be all your life. Old enough to have some smarts, young enough to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Even when I was a teen I hated popular culture. My friends dumped on me because I was always reading or listening to classical music. Dolts.
Recently I watched a movie about the life of Ernie Davis, a football phenom who tragically died of leukemia when he was only 25. It was well done and one watched him struggle through the discrimination of being one of the few black players on a team. He played for Syracuse and they beat the super talented Texas Longhorns for the championship and that was a big deal. His team mates chose to have barbeque in a local joint with him and the other two black players, and boycott a special function honoring their win in a high end segregated hotel. And he was awarded the Heisman trophy. He was drafted by Cleveland but never played for them because of his illness. A really sad story.
I am now married to my smart phone. How did I ever get along without it? I get the news on it. Since childhood I dreamed of being a reporter. But I didn’t know how to pursue that dream and I wasn’t focused nor did I have the emotional mindset. So I married a writer/editor. I’d do it all again if I could. The only thing I’d change is I would work for a newspaper a lot sooner. Too bad I didn’t have today’s smarts when I was young. Then, just maybe, I could have made it happen. I am reading the biography of a remarkable woman, Pauline Frederick, who broke the barriers against women in major reporting jobs. It is fascinating. And I was friends for a time with Helvi Kalman, who was a UP war correspondent in Europe during WWII and parachuted behind enemy lines to get the story. She lived in the U.S. after the war and worked for the UN for a while. She married briefly and they gave her a party at the UP office in England with bets being taken about how long it would last. She was back in a few weeks, saying, “he wanted me to cook.” A remarkable woman. I’m sorry to say I lost touch with her and I am guessing she has passed.