Meet the woman behind the man who drives the sleigh

Posted on December 22, 2011 by janie

 

During this time of the year one man in particular starts to get all the attention. Yes, Santa Claus is no stranger to the limelight, but as we all know, behind every successful man stands an even more successful, understanding and brilliant woman. So who is Mrs Claus? And how does she feel about the supportive role she plays in the life of her husband?

I caught up with the season’s most unsung heroine a few days ago at the Red Nose Saloon where she was taking a break from programming a GPS system for her husband. Over a few extra dry martinis, she happily agreed to give me this exclusive interview.

JE: So, tell me Mrs. Claus, what’s it like being married to a Seasonal Superstar?

Mrs. Claus: Well, to be quite honest, it’s far from jolly. I’ve tried putting him on a diet but every year I swear, I have to add another panel to his goddamn suit. It’s bad enough that I have to work for months to get rid of the smoky smell. If he insists on going down chimneys, I don’t know why he won’t wear the dark suit I made for him.

JE: So, this is a very busy time for you, I gather.

Mrs. Claus: You don’t know the half of it. I much prefer Valentine’s day. That’s when we have the entire Pole all to ourselves. If you know what I mean.

JE: Yes, I can tell by your smile that you haven’t lost that lovin’ feeling. Was it love at first sight between the two of you?

At this question, Mrs. Claus laughed like a hyena before answering.

Mrs. Claus: It was actually his lap which drew me to him. I fell in love at first bounce. Right then, I knew we were soul mates.

JE: So what is your typical day like at this time of year?

Mrs. Claus: Well, I usually get up around 6:30. Put on a pot of coffee. Check emails. Then I go to the mailroom and make sure it’s all running smoothly before heading over to the workshop. Around 8:30, I wake up his highness, who claims he needs his beauty rest this time of year. Like anyone even sees him making his deliveries!

JE: Do you help with the toy production?

Mrs. Claus: Most definitely. But even more importantly, if it weren’t for me, the presents wouldn’t be delivered on time.

JE: Why is that?

Mrs. Claus: Because I’m just now perfecting his new GPS system. Like any man, he’s so darn stubborn, he won’t stop and ask for directions. Every year he gets lost somewhere around the tropics.

JE: So, not only are you a seamstress but a computer programmer as well? You’re quite an amazing woman. What other talents to you have up your sleeve?

Mrs. Claus: Well, along with longitudes and latitudes I’m adding a few attitude reminders to the system. You know, little sayings such as… ‘Keep smiling. You’re halfway there. I’ll be waiting up for you. Keep on sleddin. I’ve been a good girl, so let’s get naughty when you get back.’ Anything to stop him slugging back too much sherry and homemade cookies on his rounds.

JE: Sounds like you pretty much run the show on Christmas Eve.

Mrs. Claus: I’m a Taurus, you know. But I’m not as stubborn as they say. I just like things done my way. And my way makes Christmas Eve a success…year after year after year.

JE: What do you do in your spare time? That is if you have any.

Mrs. Claus: I’ve started a blog. Tonight I’m chatting about Men with Beards and The Women Who Love Them. You should log on. You know, you might learn a thing or two.

At this point in our interview her cell phone rang playing the song ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.’

JE: I like your ring tone.

Mrs. Claus: Well, actually, it has a different meaning for me than the rest of the world.

JE: I’m sure it does.

Mrs. Claus: Look I’m really sorry – I have to go. The elves have downed tools once again. He has no idea how to manage them properly – won’t accept that they are fully unionised now. You can’t have them working all through the night any more. Men. They all think they are so smart. The trick, which really isn’t all that hard, is to make them think they’re the ones making the decisions.

JE: No problem. Perhaps we can continue this another time? I know there are a lot of women who could benefit from your wisdom.

Mrs. Claus: It would be my pleasure. I’ll check my iPhone and get back to you.

With that Mrs. Claus downed her martini in one gulp, and headed back to work. Her husband might be the one getting all the glory, but clearly without Mrs. Claus, Christmas morning wouldn’t be quite the way we know it.

Merry Christmas to all!

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Holiday Dollars And Sense

Posted on December 11, 2011 by janie

THEN:  CASH AND CARRY


 

NOW:  CLICK AND SAVE


The smell of peppermint coffee. The sound of bickering relatives. The sight of holiday shoppers bumping into each other. The taste of hot buttered rum. The feel of plastic as you swipe that credit card and try not to shudder.

Can it really be happening already? It seems like I was just biting into my first juicy peach and now the winter holidays are barreling toward me. No matter how tightly I close my eyes, cover my ears and duck my head – it’s time to shop!

Every day a new mailer arrives announcing the next “Best Sale” on toys, clothes, books, perfume, computers, cameras, cars. You name it. And not only mailers. This year my e-mail box is cluttered with ads from every site I’ve ever visited, plus some.

As a kid I don’t remember everything being so rushed. November was a wonderful month. The days grew cold and crisp. The leaves turned colors, fell onto the ground. We sat by the fire after dinner, watching TV – as a family.

“Shopping” meant grabbing our coats, piling into the car and driving to the mall. A place where my senses came alive with the surroundings.
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Not so anymore. With the invention of the Internet, shopping has changed dramatically. Online sites offer better bargains, no waiting in lines and no confrontations with angry shoppers. But my senses are paying the price. The data they process today is so different from back then.

Instead of seeing life-like, well-dressed mannequins, I stare at clothes and shoes and purses inside little boxes lined up neatly on my computer screen. Cyber lights blink on and off in the borders with the intention of giving me that holiday spirit. But more often than not, they give me a headache.

I used to love to touch soft cashmere sweaters that I might buy for my mom. Or pick up a book and flip through the pages. Now I touch my keyboard, scratch my head. Is the waist really that tiny on that dress? Are those gold buttons too gaudy for my sister? Tapping on the screen enlarges the image. But I still can’t feel the texture.

My computer beeping isn’t quite the same as hearing the sound of the cash register ringing up a sale. And unless I put on a CD, there isn’t any holiday music to keep me in the mood.

Now instead of tasting all those delicious samples offered in food shops such as Williams-Sonoma and Hickory Farms, I have a bitter taste in my mouth every time my computer “times out.” Because it’s inevitable. After hours of careful clicking and moving items into my shopping cart, suddenly I get an error message and the screen goes blank. And I have to start all over again.

After prolonged shopping sessions with my computer, the only thing that I can smell is myself. I get so wrapped up in wanting to finish that I sometimes forget to shower.

Online shopping doesn’t require much grooming. It doesn’t require interaction with real-live people. And after a while it can drive you senseless.

Sure there are good bargains and less crowds, but something is missing: good old-fashioned holiday camaraderie. And Santa Claus. The last time I checked he only made house calls on Christmas Eve.

I may still do some online shopping this year. But I think I also need to grab my coat, get in the car and head for the mall.

After I take as shower, that is.

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Then: Waffle Wonderness Now: Waffle Wars

Posted on November 26, 2011 by janie

THEN: Waffle Iron Wonderness


 

NOW: Waffle Iron Wars



When I was a teenager, Sunday mornings were “waffle” mornings. My dad would get up before the rest of the family, mix up a batch of dough, heat up the waffle maker, put on his apron and wait patiently for the rest of us to wake up. Which we did, to the inviting smell of homemade waffles. Those waves of sweetness would pull my sister and me out of bed and into the kitchen. Now I can’t say that waffles were my favorite food, but just the mention of them evokes those wonderful memories.

You should also keep in generic cheap viagra see this mind that sildenafil medicines approved by FDA (Food and Drug Administration) work for over two-thirds of men with ED. It can http://www.slovak-republic.org/history/medieval-hungary/ overnight cialis delivery also be caused by forceful insertion of bacteria or some foreign body or can occur after periodontal treatment. For improving your results, you need to consume Shilajit capsules along with NF Cure sildenafil 100mg capsules. The erectile dysfunctions are one of the worst levitra super active diseases that plague men, and it is one that every single male dreads getting in their lifetime. That was until yesterday, better known as Black Friday. Now, waffles have taken on a whole new meaning: utter chaos.

Every year people go crazy over some item. Rushing into the store, shoving and pushing. I don’t see the sense of it. Although, getting a $500 iPad for only $300 might be worth the wait.

But a waffle iron? My god! What makes shoppers go so crazy over getting one for $2.00? Is it just the fact that they are getting a bargain? Or did all those insane people really need one?

It makes me wonder how many relatives are now going to get a waffle iron for Christmas?

It’s so absurd that it’s hard to get my brain around what happened. I know times are tough. Money’s tight. We’re all looking for a bargain. But still.

I can only hope that some of those waffle irons will be used to make a delicious Sunday breakfast, much like the ones I used to share with my family. And that lasting memories will be formed.

Then maybe the craziness was worth it.

Maybe.

How about you? Did you shop on Black Friday?

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Sex, Drugs & Rock and Roll

Posted on November 17, 2011 by janie

THEN:   SEX, DRUGS & ROCK AND ROLL

 

NOW:  SEX, DRUGS & ROCK AND ROLL

 

 

As long as I can remember “Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll” have been a part of my life. I can’t imagine it having been any other way.

But my involvement with two of these so-called vices has changed considerably over the years.

Let’s start with sex. Suffice it to say that sex in my sixties is not quite the same as sex was during the sixties.  Not that I don’t still have sex, but after thirty years of marriage, I now embrace the concept of “Cuddling with Benefits” rather than the “Free Love” spirit of my hippie days.

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I’m not going to brag about my behavior during the Summer of Love and subsequent years, but I’m not going to condemn it either. It was what it was. And let me tell you, it was a lot of fun.

The world was changing. And as a Baby Boomer I was right there in the thick of it. Of course, as a member of the Baby Boomer Generation, it was much easier for me to indulge in sexual activities than it had been for my mom, a member of the Greatest Generation or my grandmother, who was born into the Lost Generation. And that was because of the birth control pill. Women no longer had to fear getting pregnant. We should have been worried about disease, but we weren’t. We had a drug to prevent unwanted children. Life was good.

This brings me to the second vice: Drugs. Ah – how much fun it was to smoke a joint or drop some LSD and venture out into the world. Everything looked so different in that altered state. Some days my friends and I solved the world’s problems. Other days we simply followed Timothy Leary’s advice. We would “Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out,” watching the clouds drift across the sky.

Today, my mind-altering drug of choice is vodka. As for illegal drugs, I don’t partake anymore. (Well…maybe just a little toke now and then.) Think Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin in It’s Complicated.

And I now have a prescription for the legal drug, Boniva – something I never thought I would need when I was trying out those Kama Sutra positions. Come to think of it, maybe all those manipulations of body parts contributed to my current bone situation.

Finally, we come to Rock & Roll. And this I am happy to report hasn’t changed at all. I still listen to the oldies, but I haven’t shut my mind off to the new groups of today. I don’t complain, as my parents did, about the music my daughter listens to. Or even my grandkids.

Of course, the way I listen to music has changed considerably. Gone are the vinyl record albums, along with all those wonderful album covers. Gone are cassette tape players. It’s now a world of iTunes and iPods. But anyway you listen to it, it’s still music.

The way I see it, music keeps me young and in touch. And on some days, when I listen to Jefferson Airplane singing,  “…don’t you want somebody to love, don’t you need somebody to love, wouldn’t you love somebody to love, you better find somebody to love,” I’m thrown back in time, into an altered state, ready to whip off my top and run wild through the streets of San Francisco.

Of course, then I open my eyes and realize the only place this naked body is going is into my own shower.

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Then: Aspiring Writer Now: Weekly Columnist

Posted on November 7, 2011 by janie

THEN:  ASPIRING WRITER

NOW:  WEEKLY COLUMNIST

Read Me In the Powder Room!

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted to be a writer.  As I grew older, my goal became more defined.  I dreamed of being a columnist.  Of writing about the world around me in a universal, yet very personal way.  And today, that has come true.
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I will be writing for the great website IN THE POWDER ROOM.      Please check out my column every Wednesday in the SHIT HAPPENS category along with those of the other amazing writers.

Every day there will be something new and delicious to devour.

Leave us comments.  Tell us what you think.  Stay for awhile.  And come back often.

http://www.inthepowderroom.com

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THEN: THE CANDY BAR NOW: THE CANDY BITE

Posted on October 30, 2011 by janie

THEN:  The Candy Bar


 

NOW:  The Candy Bite


 

I don’t have a  spooky Halloween story to tell or any scary video to share.    What I’m going to talk about is candy.   And to me the inflation involving the good old candy bar is scary.

I don’t really like candy all that much.  Oh, sure, I crave the occasional Snickers Bar or Peanut Butter Cup every now and then.   But then more than now.

And THEN it was really a candy bar!  At least five or six inches.  Something you could savor for a few minutes, at least.  That bar cost about fifteen cents.  Today, that candy is about an inch long, one bite, and costs approximately sixteen cents.   It’s called the Fun Size bar.   But what’s so fun about it?  You do the math.

We’re getting less.  Paying more.  That doesn’t sound like too much fun to me.

Perhaps dieters appreciate the smaller sized candies.  Just one little bite isn’t much.  But one bite often leads to two bites which leads to three and so on until you’ve devoured half the bag.  In my opinion the little sized candies are a detriment to someone watching their weight.

They are still able to have a order cheap viagra very satisfying sex life is important for emotional and physical health. If a man is not ready to talk about it than getting http://frankkrauseautomotive.com/cars-for-sale/page/4/ cheapest cialis uk for erectile dysfunction treatment is kind of impossible. Robotic surgery is fast becoming the norm for men that are over 60 years of age and do not use this medicine if you are having a good time with your wife? It is actually possible to suffer from it at any 20mg levitra canada given point of time in the day schedule. Supraspinatus Muscle Shoulder blade area above the medial border of the scapular spine. brand levitra http://frankkrauseautomotive.com/contact-us/ But I can’t change the future.  Candy bars will no doubt continue to shrink in size as their cost goes up.

No, I can’t change progress (if you can call it that) but I can preserve my memories of Halloween.  Those cold wintry “trick or treat” nights, walking with my neighbors, sucking on candy cigarettes (remember those?), excited to get home and go through my candy stash.

And at least that part hasn’t changed for the kids of today.   Oh, except for the cigarette part.

Happy Halloween!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Then: Film Development Now: Digital Delete

Posted on October 22, 2011 by janie

Then:   Film Development

 

Now:   Digital Delete

I currently have hundreds of photos on my digital camera.   In order for my friends to see them , they usually have to put on their reading glasses so that they can actually see what they are looking at.  About once a year or after some big event, I’ll finally take out the memory chip and have them printed up.   And then I’ll put all the photos into a big box.   Oh, I’ll frame a few.  But by the time I have the actual hard copy of the photos, I’ve already looked at them a hundred times on the digital screen.

The other day, I ran out of memory (on my camera) and told my granddaughter that I had to get my pictures developed.   Uh?   She looked at me with this quizzical expression. What does developing mean?   And I realized I was using the wrong terminology.  I corrected myself and told her I meant I had to print them up.

But this got me to thinking about how it used to be.  How I would shoot a roll of 24 or 36 pictures and when the roll was finished, I would  take it immediately to get it  developed.  Way back, this process took at least three to five days.   And the prints with come with jagged edges.  Remember those?  As the years passed,  along came the one hour Photomat.  But now, hey, I’ll wait months, even years to print up my memories.   And then sometimes I can’t remember where the photo was even taken!

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Now I can see the photo within a second of taking it .  Snap.  Let me see!  The camera is passed around the group.  The same pose might be taken five or six times before everyone is satisfied.  Photos are instantly deleted if someone doesn’t  like their smile or if their eyes are half closed or if a hair is out of place.

To me,  that’s a shame.  Some of  those deleted photos are actually the best ones.  The ones which show us how we really were that day.

And getting that roll of developed film and going through the pictures was always so much fun.  It was like reliving that special birthday dinner or that day at the beach a few weeks after the event.  Now we have that dinner, take photos and look at them on our camera only minutes after the dinner is finished.

We’ve become so accustomed to having everything now.  This moment.  It’s all so instantaneous.

Well, I’m going to make a new vow.  From now I’m going to print up my photos the instant the event is over.  No more waiting until the disc is full.

And then maybe I’ll be able to remember where every photo was taken and actually put them into an album.  Maybe.

 

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Then: Postcards Now: Blog Post

Posted on October 9, 2011 by janie

Then:  Postcards


Now:  Blog Post


So, I’m looking at my refrigerator door.  Something doesn’t seem quite right.  Photos of my kids and grandkids stare back at me, held up by magnets from Disneyland, Nashville and various other places that I’ve been.  There are drawings of trees and stick people.  And a few coupons for my favorite coffee place.  But still- something is missing?

And then it dawns on me.  I used have postcards.  You know those small 5 by 5 cards with lovely photographs of places around the world.  On the back side would be a short note.   Having fun. Wish you were here.  The message had to be short, much like today’s tweets.  So, the traveler often got creative in her message.  I received notes of endearment from cousins, grandmothers, friends.  Of course, sometimes the postcards would arrive after the traveler returned home.   Sometime, I even sent them to myself as I reminder of where I’d been.

But now…well, with the Internet and social media sites, people tend to post pictures of their trip while they are still on vacation. They write all about all the interesting things they’re doing and by the time they get back there is nothing left to tell.

So why bother sending a postcard?

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But fact it, postcards tell the history of our country.

And who doesn’t love to sit down on a rainy day and go through memory boxes. Sit cross-legged on the floor with a glass of hot tea.

Scrolling down a computer screen does not evoke the same memories. At least for me.  Touching a postcard somehow brings me closer to the photograph I’m looking at.  With it between my fingers, I can almost smell the scene I am looking at – be it an ocean, a bed of flowers or a Parisian night club.  Almost taste that plate of pasta on the table in a fancy Italian restaurant.   And hear the stars whispering to each other as they appear over the Pacific Ocean.

How about you?  When was the last time you sent a postcard?

 

 

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Then: Cartoons Now: Car Tunes

Posted on October 2, 2011 by janie

THEN:  CARTOONS


 

NOW:  CAR TUNES


 

 

 

Ah – those good old weekend morning cartoons. Remember those days?  The ones before cable TV, before 24/7 broadcasting.  When a station would go off the air and play that test pattern.  Well, back in those ancient times, cartoons aired only on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

And that is where my sister and I would be  – in front of that small old fashioned television.  It didn’t  come with a remote control, let alone HD or DVR capabilities.  But it brought us into all sorts of fantasy worlds for a few wonderful hours each weekend.

Of all the cartoons, my favorite was the Jetsons.  That family that lived in 2062 in their Skypad, complete with holograms, robots and flying cars.  With each episode my imagination soared higher and higher.

Well, I have to say – move over Jetsons.  The world in which we now live is rapidly approaching that cartoon landscape, especially as it relates to cars.

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Please!  This sounds completely insane to me, but years back I couldn’t believe we would ever have to pay to watch TV.

So, of course, whenever there is the prospect of our welfare being in danger, out come the men in the lab coats.  Well, in this case the EV (Electro-Voice) Audio coats.  And these guys are currently hard at work on CarTunes, the sounds that will emanate from our chosen mode of transportation.

These will probably start off simple and with limited choices.  Just as cell phone ring tone options were when they were introduced to the public.

Remember when a phone simply rang instead of exclaiming “it’s your mother-in-law” or playing a few bars of the “Theme From Rocky?”

Well, anyway, if this is the case, the sound emanating from our cars will be yet another option available when purchasing a new vehicle, along with rain-sensing wipers and massaging seats.

Imagine pulling up to your friend’s house sounding like Barbra Streisand singing “People” or maybe flapping like a gaggle of flying geese.  Or like a booming thunderstorm.  Perhaps to the sound of popcorn popping.  Or with the energy of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.

As you can see, the possibilities are limitless.

I’d like to have my car sound like the Jetsons Theme Song.  After all, I used to pretend I was living in their world.

What about you?  How would you like your car to sound?

 

 

 

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Then: Growing Up Now: Grown up

Posted on September 23, 2011 by janie

THEN:  GROWING UP

 

NOW:  GROWN UP

 

 

 

Some of my fondest childhood memories involve the trips I went on with my parents.  Every winter we went up to Crestline where we tobogganed, ice-skated and drank hot chocolate around the fireplace inside our cozy cabin.  In the summer we went to this place called Highland Springs where we swam in  a big pool and ate in a dining room with all the other families.  But the vacations which occupy most of my memory (what little I have these days) are the ones we took to New York and Hawaii.

In Hawaii, I walked around in white pedal pushers, carrying a large white straw purse (even larger than my mom’s) thinking that all the boys would surely notice me.  Well, if they did it wasn’t as anything but a flat-chested twelve- year-old carrying a purse way too big for her and smiling like a complete dork.
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In New York, I was a bit more sophisticated.   Sort of.   I actually fell in love and had my heart broken all in one night.  This incident caused my father to go into a rage and want to go kill whoever had made his baby girl cry so horribly.  When he found out I was sobbing hysterically because I would never see that boy again, he wanted to kill me!

But no matter what age I was when we traveled, I knew my father would get us to our destination safely.  He would take care of everything (hotels, car rentals, food, souvenirs, fun) while we were on our vacation.  And see to it that we all got back home in one piece.

Well,  a few years ago I went to Mexico with my parents.  And before we left, my father, now ninety years old, the one I always counted on, took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, “You’ll get us there okay, won’t you?”

As a teenager, I never thought my father would be saying this to me.   It made me cry and at the same time, made me feel good that I could answer “yes.”

And so off to Mexico we went.  My husband, me, my mom (spry at eighty-four) and my father.   I wore my responsibility like a second skin, knowing that I owed it to my parents for all they have done for me.

Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t lose my patience a bit.  Especially  when my father was asking for a cocktail only a few minutes after we had taken our seats on the plane.  But then I couldn’t blame him.  The first class passengers were drinking wine and eating hors d’oeuvres, while the coach passengers were still boarding.  The combined age of those first class passengers was probably only a few years past that of my dad’s.

We arrived safely in Mexico and as I had promised my father, there was a wheelchair waiting to take us through customs.  And as I had also promised there were beautiful sunrises (well, I guess I didn’t have much say in that event) and delicious huevos rancheros  (again not something I prepared)  and many wonderful hours playing cards, drinking margaritas and laughing.  I can take credit for some of those.

Upon returning home safely, my father thanked me.  But then again, he didn’t really have to.

It was difficult at time.  But the truth is- I wish I could do  it all over again.

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