WHO IS YOUR "LITTLE OLD MAN IN SHORTS"?

My friendly, hyperactive, little dog Max loves his evening walks with me and Pete. We put him on a retractable leash which gives him lots of room to run from one side of the street to the other. He generally pays little attention to neighbors working in their yards, children riding bikes, or passing cars. However, he has an aversion to an older man in jogging shorts who we frequently encounter on our route.

When Max eyes him from a block away, Max immediately freezes. Then he begins growling, barking, and lunges towards him. This isn’t just an occasional display of bad manners but it happens every time we see this poor fellow. We can’t explain it, we are embarrassed by it, and we apologize to him profusely as we physically hold Max down.

Last night as we were walking the dog, we had our usual encounter with the "little old man in shorts". Afterwards, I began to think about the things and people in my life who cause me to react in much the same way that Max reacts to the old man in jogging shorts.

Rude drivers cause me to growl. Driving home last night, someone followed me too close and it didn’t take long for my blood pressure to rise. Finally, the driver sped around me and went on to ride someone else’s bumper. Rude drivers are my "little old man in shorts".

Getting frisked by security at the entrance to the building where I work causes me to bristle. I come through the same door five days a week and on most days, I enter twice. The security officers see me everyday and know where I work. However, when I set off the alarm, I reveal my bracelets and belt, and still one of the troopers will insist I "undress", hold my arms out to my sides like a criminal, and then "wand" me. I do not fit the description of a stereotypical terrorist, yet I feel like one. Unfriendly security guards are my "little old man in shorts".

Last but not least, my serious pet peeve is dialing a business, i.e. an insurance or utility company or a financial institution, and never speaking to human being. Going through several layers of recorded messages and in the end being rerouted back to the beginning or, worse yet, getting disconnected can really get my blood boiling. It’s maddening to spend 30 minutes jumping through hoops, sitting on hold, listening to bad music, and then hearing the dreaded click and dead silence on the other end. The automated telephone system is my "little old man in shorts".

Unlike Max, who is controlled by a retractable leash, I am the master of my own leash. I am responsible for my reactions to the annoyances I face in life. Like Max, I growl, I bark, and sometimes I am ready to bite, however, I can control my emotions and take ownership of my responses. Isn’t it better to recognize the "little old man in shorts", more commonly known as "minor irritations", and smile rather than growl, keep quiet rather than bite, and calmly walk on by? Isn’t that what being a mature adult is all about?

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

It's Friday and the end of the work week. It's also nearing the end of August and Summer is almost over. I consider Labor Day weekend to be the end of Summer and the beginning of Fall. That notion probably goes back to my younger days when school didn't start until after Labor Day.

I sound really old when I say this but it's true -- this Summer has flown by. It started with a trip to the Grand Canyon which was awesome. Then, there was a fun weekend in Stillwater with my girlfriends at a professional association meeting, then to Las Vegas with my daughters, then to Missouri with our grandson, throw in three funerals and a wedding, several parties with friends and family, and suddenly the Summer is gone.

When I was just a kid, I remember the days of Summer to be long, hot, and sometimes boring. I honestly don't know how my mother could stand it with three kids in the house, begging for money to buy an Icee at 7-11, fussing with each other over who will wash the dishes, always hungry, and making messes. Thank goodness, my life went another direction than my mother's did otherwise I think I would have lost my mind.

By this time of year, I am usually sick of the heat and ready for the cool temperatures of Fall. I suppose the mild weather we've had this Summer has somehow made the season seem shorter than usual. We've not suffered any days over 100 degrees which is quite unusual for an Oklahoma summer. I believe this to be one reason why it seems that Summer has sped past me.

Another reason I think this Summer has gone by so fast is that I have been very busy. I've hardly slowed down. I've made an effort to either walk or go to the gym every evening after work. I've been working on three scrapbooks, volunteered quite a lot at the museum, and spent time with my grandson, Hubby and Max the Wonder Dog (not necessarily in that order).

As I look back on the past four months, I consider what I should have done and never got around to it. I intended to ride my bike more however that's been my intention at the beginning of every summer for the past 10 years. I intended to get the carpet shampooed in the den -- that hasn't happened. I planned to sit on my porch swing every evening -- however life got in the way.

What will I remember to be the most significant thing about the Summer of 2007? For example, the Summer of 1995, my daughter had a terrible car accident. The Summer of 1996, I bought my first Miata and I broke my hand. The Summer of 2006, we spent the entire summer in the hospital with my sister. So, how will I remember the Summer of 2007? Maybe, I won't remember it as anything special. It will be just another season filled with good health, love for family and friends, and a life lived to the fullest.

7

GIRLFRIEND THERAPY

On Saturday, I met three of my longtime close girlfriends for a leisurely visit. We were invited to help one of the girls put some finishing touches on decorating her new apartment and helping her pick out a couple of outfits for a television interview.

Karen, the girl with the new place, invited us to come at 1:00. I arrived fashionably late but was quickly excused for my tardiness when I unloaded my sack of goodies which included Jose Cuervo ready-made margarita mix, chips, salsa, and guacamole. After pouring everyone drinks, we settled down to a nice, long chat.

It had been about 8 months since we were together last so we had a lot to catch up on. We shared stories about family, our jobs, Karen’s recent move, mutual acquaintances, and life in general. Sometime during the afternoon, we could hear thunder and rain hitting against the window pane. I lost all track of time.

Finally, when we gathered our things to leave, I looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly 7:00. We exchanged hugs and kisses and went our separate ways.

Thinking back on our rainy afternoon together, I am so thankful for my girlfriends. The four of us have been through a lot together. We’ve experienced an adoption of a new baby, death of a child, parents and co-workers, relocations, marriages and divorces, illnesses, new jobs, kid problems, the list goes on and on. But through all the years of chaos, sadness, joy, and celebration, we have been there for each other. We know the secrets, we share our disappointments and frustrations, we encourage one another, and most importantly, we do not judge each other. I call it GIRLFRIEND THERAPY.

In girlfriend therapy, we give and take so that not one of us dominates our "counseling sessions". Everyone gets equal time and attention. And we laugh, we laugh a lot.

I can’t imagine living my insane life without my girlfriends. The older I get, the more I need my friends. A husband is nice to have around. Children, family, and pets can bring great joy to life, but it is my relationships with my girlfriends that complete me.

QUESTION OF THE DAY

DO YOU REMEMBER WHERE YOU WERE WHEN YOU HEARD THAT ELVIS PRESLEY DIED?

This morning, I heard the question asked on the TV news show, on the radio while driving into work, on one of the news web sites, and I just now read it in the newspaper. Today is the 30th anniversary of Elvis’ death so that explains all the buzz about Elvis Presley.

Sadly enough, I am old enough to remember EXACTLY where I was when I heard that Elvis had passed away. I was 23 years old, it was mid-afternoon and I was standing in my kitchen when the phone rang. It was my cousin Gayla Reigh who tearfully gave me the tragic news. She was sobbing so much that I could barely understand who or what she was talking about. Finally, after realizing what she was saying, I was stunned. ELVIS IS DEAD!

I remember watching the news that evening, listening to Geraldo Rivera give an account of how and when Elvis had died. Everyone knew that Elvis had issues but he was the King, he was famous and talented and he was too young to die.

Since then, I’ve watched lots of Elvis movies, I’ve been to Graceland twice, I’ve seen an Elvis impersonator act in Vegas, and I still crank up the volume when the oldies radio station plays one of his early hits. I was actually excited to sleep in a motel room that Elvis had slept in 40 years ago.

On this day of remembrance to the King of Rock ‘n Roll, I am feeling somewhat melancholy. I am saddened to remember a life of hope, tragedy, despair, and musical genius and more personally, I am saddened to know that 30 years have passed by so quickly.

SOMETHING OLD IS SOMETHING NEW

You know how it is. You hear an old song on the radio, TV, or internet, a tune very familiar to you, but it’s been years since you heard it last. It stirs up old memories of a place, a time, or a special person.

Last week, I was channel surfing and landed on PBS. An old rerun was playing of The Johnny Cash Show. Joni Mitchell and Johnny sang a duet which immediately drew me in. It was a familiar tune but it was as if I were hearing it for the very first time. The song is about a man who was suspected of murder. He refused to provide an alibi because he was having an affair with his best friend’s wife at the time and he would rather be hanged to death than reveal their secret. The chorus hauntingly tells of how his lover visits his grave in a long black veil and cries over his bones. The song is sung from the perspective of the dead man.

The last time I heard the song was just a year ago. My best friend’s husband is a musician (vocals and guitar) and he sang it to me. Bob’s soulful rendition brought tears to my eyes.

Oh, the scaffold was high and eternity’s near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when the north wind blows
In a long black veil, she cries over my bones.

She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me.

The ballad is titled "The Long Black Veil" and after a little research I learned it was first recorded in 1959 by Lefty Frizzell. The list of popular artists who have recorded the song is long and impressive. I have added it to my list of all-time favorites.

I heard another song which was made popular in the 1970's by Captain & Tennille. It’s a ballad but more on the quirky side. And for anyone who knows me, I lean toward quirkiness. The song is "Muskrat Candlelight"and was written in 1971 by Oklahoma native, Willis Alan Ramsey. I was actually listening to the original version on Ramsey’s CD and believe I like his bluesy, moody style more than the Captain & Tennille version called "Muskrat Love". This is another tune I have added to my list of favorites.

And they whirled and they twirled and they tangoed
Singin’ and jingin’ the jango
Floatin’ like the heavens above
It looks like muskrat love

I do love the ballad whether it is sung by Marty Robbins, The Eagles, Red Steagall, or my friend, Bob. As long as there are stories to be told, I’m sure someone will put their words to music and create a ballad for people like me to enjoy.