23 Skidoo!

My favorite song of all time.... fast forward to 2:10 if you don't appreciate instrumentals.

There's something about old people that simultaneously brings me great joy and great sadness.

I spent the morning with my dear grandma, Harriet. She is not the subject of this post. Harriet is 86 years-young and is sharp, keen, and sprigh as they come. Harriet would win first place in the "Most Kick Ass Grandma Contest," if there were such a contest. And it would be a unanimous decision. Today Harriet let me come with her to the Arcadia Community Senior Center where every Tuesday she volunteers, serving lunch to the elderly (and I use "elderly" loosely. 90% of these people were younger than her- Exhibit A of how much Harriet kicks ass). These so-called elderly folk are the subjects of this post.

Old people remind me of the "good ol' days," which I often pine for and wish I had experienced first hand. Whenever anyone over the age of seventy-five talks about the Depression, The War, or just the "simpler times" of the '50s/'60s, I get all giddy and nostalgic (is it possible to experience nostalgia if you weren't around to actually experience that for which you feel nostalgia?). Anyway, I truly believe we are on the brink of losing the few gems left of the last great generation, and that saddens me. Anyone who knows me knows my love for the 1929-1972 time period. But even as I try to live life putting forth my best effort to sustain and even rejuvenate the unparalleled charms of this era (i.e. cheek-to-cheek dancing to the stylings of the Glenn Miller Orchestra- *cough* Megan Psyllos *cough*, forcing everyone I know to watch my favorite film, "Auntie Mame," or using phrases such as "that's the bee's knees!"), I feel the enchantment and the honorable values of this priceless American era quickly fading. Old people are the last relics of this great living history, and should be valued as such.

On the other hand, being around the elderly reminds me of the wretched future I have to look forward to. Thanks to soccer, my outstanding physical health has gone to hell. Hellllooooo hip, knee, ankle, foot, -insert appendage here- replacement by the age of 30. I am scared to death of not being able to walk faster than a snail or having the shakes so bad I can't read a newspaper. But my number 1 fear of growing old BY FAR is the prospect of Alzheimer's and/or dementia. I had to watch my Grandma Ozzie suffer from that soul-sucking condition and though he/she who has it may not know or care, it causes a world of pain to your loved ones. After one particular visit to my Grandma's assisted living facility, I made my brother Danny promise that the day I can't remember my family members' names is the day he must slip poison into my food. As someone with a bit more forethought than a 22 year-old should have, I've already composed my Last Will and Testament. I have it written that past the age of fifty I shall under no circumstances have an autopsy, so Danny will be in the clear.

Excuse the Alzheimer's digression. Back to growing old- also NOT looking forward to the incessant gobbling of meds... I don't want to spend my twilight years doped up on blood pressure meds, cholesterol meds, heart meds, colon health meds, bladder meds, etc etc etc etc etc meds. The day I have one of those pill boxes with the 7 compartments labeled "M T W TH F S SU" is the day my life officially ends; well, at least marks the beginning of the final act. And from what I've observed, unlike the theatre the final act of one's life is boring, painful, and riddled with unease.

So as I stood behind the counter slopping yams onto those styrofoam trays, my heart and mind were vacillating between joy and grief as I chit-chatted with these beautiful elderly souls whose bodies were failing them.

Two things to take away from this post:

1. Youth is fleeting- go enjoy it.
2. Never pass up the opportunity to have a conversation with the elderly. They'll have both great stories and life lessons to be heeded.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered- I'm Yours

Take a moment to think of all the things that make you feel good. I mean, really good. The fuzzy, heart-swelling kind of good. A good that seems to warm you from the inside out, forcing the corners of your mouth to curl upward and the slightest bit of moisture to accumulate in the inside-corners of your eye sockets. What evokes that good feeling from you?

I'm sure some of you thought of hugs, or maybe walking out of an interview knowing you nailed it, or finding a $10 bill in the back pocket of an old pair of jeans. But I think most will agree with me when I say that few things have the capability to evoke that good feeling more than receiving an old-fashioned, hand-written letter courtesy of the USPS.

All of those feelings I described in the first paragraph of this entry are just a fraction of what I feel when I peer into my mailbox and see a non-business sized envelope addressed to me, my name scribbled in pen or pencil in such a way that tellingly reflects the personality of the sender.

With the ease of communication provided by modern technology, the personal, intimate nature of correspondence has become shallow and diluted. Some might argue that E-mail, Facebook wallposts, and text messages perform the same function as a letter, but in a faster, 44 cent-cheaper manner. This is outrageously erroneous. There is no comparison between the effort and thought one puts into the composition of a letter and hammering out something on a keyboard in 2 seconds and thoughtlessly pushing "send," while simultaneously checking Facebook, the weekend's NFL scores, tomorrow's weather forecast, and the balance in your bank account. The simple, time-honored act of sitting down with a pen in hand and a pad of paper on the desk, wholly devoting your attention to crafting a thoughtful correspondence to one particular person is unparalleled by any technological impostor of interpersonal communication.

I currently have 3 penpals with whom I regularly correspond, and often send random letters to others when compelled. The dying, classic tradition of letter-writing brightens my world when I am on the receiving end and (I hope) the equal effect is felt by those to whom I send them.

I implore you, nay- challenge you to in the next few days sit down and write to someone you don't talk to very often (but would like to), or someone you've lost touch with over the years. I can guarantee it will make their day, and you never know what will come of it. I promise you it will be among the best 44 cents you've ever spent.

Be the reason for someone's warm, fuzzy, heart-swelling good feeling. Write a letter. If for no other reason, your hand will appreciate a different form of exercise than the peck-peck-pecking away on a keyboard.

O Holy Post

Now that everyone's in full Christmas mode, I feel semi-safe to pontificate on the subject of this next post. I ask you in advance to pardon the brevity today, as I worked from 8:30am to 4:00pm straight on a research paper that's due Monday. Got 9.75 pages done though... probably my most productive school day of my entire life.

Christmas music. Some hate it, I adore it. I enjoy it so much I actually start listening to Christmas music each season on November 1st. Now, I'm sure some of you Christmas-music-before-Thanksgiving-naysayers all just collectively gasped in disgust and astonishment, but hear me out. I don't NOT like Thanksgiving, and I don't believe my listening to Christmas music overshadows the holiday. I actually like Thanksgiving day better than Christmas day (not  because I enjoy gorging on food- though it's quite tasty I don't really eat any more than I would for any normal dinner, but because it's the one day of the year my ENTIRE family gets together and I get to see them all under one roof).

Christmas is all about the anticipation of the day, rather than the day itself. Let's face it- as we've gotten older, Christmas day kind of sucks. I don't know about you, but I don't really get any presents anymore. I get money. Not that I'm complaining- but the magic that resides in the question in every kid's head when they first come out of their Christmas Eve slumber- "I wonder what Santa brought me for Christmas?"- is no longer a part of it. Plus, all your friends are busy doing family stuff so there's no one to hang out with other than your family (which I'm not saying is a bad thing!). I'm just saying Christmas day is kind of boring... except of course for the Lakers v. Heat game... which I'm sure this year will be EPIC (I hate Lebron).

The 2 months leading up to Christmas though... that's a horse of a different color. Everyone seems a bit more jolly and cheerful. Christmas decorations slowly begin emerging the week prior to Thanksgiving (for those who just can't wait)... then come out in full force on Black Friday. The excitement of finding something perfect to give someone (I swear I'm not a corporate schmuck caught up in the holiday's commercialism... but I do enjoy finding something someone will really appreciate, no matter how random the gift or the recipient). The slight, relative nip in the air... for Californians that means around 60 degrees, for Bostonians- 20 degrees and the hope of snow. Baked goods galore. The inevitable guilt that follows, spurring long nightly runs complete with lit-up houses and Trans-Siberian Orchestra blasting from your iPod.

Trans-Siberian Orchestra blasting from your iPod. What was the point of this post again? Oh, yeah! Christmas music! All I'm saying is that I have 116+ songs on my "Canzoni di Natale" playlist (translation: "Christmas Songs" in Italiano), and I need a solid 2 months to enjoy them. I'm not asking for much, folks. I'm only asking for 1/6 of the year. I have nothing against Thanksgiving, Veterans Day, All-Saints Day, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa... or any other holiday that might fall between November 1st and December 25th. It just so happens that none of those holidays contain the sweet, jolly, harmonious holiday melodies of Bing Crosby, the Vince Guaraldi Trio, Celine Dion, Josh Groban, Burl Ives, The Carpenters, or Nat King Cole (to name a few).

Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.

Where'd all the good people go?

Where'd all the good people go?
I've been changing channels
I don't see them on the TV shows.
-Jack Johnson

Well Jackie boy, I guess some of them are here in Boston. A few nights ago I was walking down Boylston St. (Fenway side... a fairly busy street in terms of foot traffic).  I had just bought a bottle of cabernet from the liquor store for Gina because I drank all her cooking wine while she was home for Thanksgiving weekend. But I digress. Shortly after I exited the liquor store, an elderly woman in front of me who was dragging one of those wire-metal grocery totes completely ate shit. I mean, I have never seen someone fall like this on a flat surface. She somehow tripped and launched forward in projectile-like fashion straight onto the concrete like a torpedo. This poor old woman flew a good 4 feet, no exaggeration. She didn't even put her arms out to cushion her fall (I've never understood how people can fall and NOT catch themselves with their arms...). This poor old lady was writhing in pain on the sidewalk so of course I hastily ran over to her to see if she was alright.  During the amount of time it took me to catch up with her (and I'm pretty fast if I do say so myself), 4 other people had raced over to come to her rescue as well! It was like a magnet picking up shards of iron when you ran it through the dirt in your youth (was I the only one who enjoyed that? This is what kids did before the Internet). Suffice it to say my services were not needed other than my picking up the poor lady's groceries and standing her wire-cart upright.

As I continued down the street with my cabernet in hand, I couldn't help but smile at the world. I see rude, inconsiderate, greedy, angry, selfish behavior all day every day. And just when you think society's  morals have all but disappeared (and if you know me you know how I feel about the subject), something like this happens and the good people come out of the woodwork. Refreshing, really.

It's so easy to get caught up in a world that no longer values selflessness, but maybe we should all make more of an effort to be kind. Do the little things. One kind act can lead to another.

an inspiring commercial

Disclaimer: This is in no way an endorsement for Liberty Mutual. I just love this ad campaign... every time they come on my TV my heart swells a little.

I'm off for a Christmas-y weekend in NYC! First timer here... excited to see Rockefeller Center, the big Christmas tree, maybe do a little ice-skating, and of course see Anna Key!


Remember, as my good friend Barbra once sang, "People who need people are the luckiest people in the world." Let's prove her right. Have a weekend full of kindness.