Youth...Pish Posh!!

I wouldn’t be young again if you paid me many thousands of dollars.  Okay, if you offered me millions of dollars, I would indeed go back to my dentist and have him put the silver metal braces back on my teeth, but I would ask for a million per year (I had to wear them for four years!).  I’ve heard that young’uns now-a-days have to wear them for about a week, and they can pick purple if they want to.  Injustice number one.

You can tell I’m a senior because I’ve already used the term, now-a-days.  Isn’t that pathetic? I didn’t realize it until I re-read that first paragraph.  Those terms come out of my mouth without my brain even knowing it.  When those expressions escape my lips, the knowingness that I am becoming my mother sends shivers up my bent spine.  Injustice number two.

Now that I’ve re-read the second paragraph, I’m not sounding too happy about my age now, am I?  But, really...would you be thirteen again...EVER?  I grew EIGHT inches in my thirteenth year.  By that summer, my little friends came up to my waist.  I felt like the Empire State Building surrounded by a sea of three-floor, brownstone walk-ups.  My legs were 4’9” long and my neck comprised the other foot bringing my adolescent frame to 5’9”.  Injustice numbers three through twelve.

When you become a senior you just have to trade some things.  You trade a turkey waddle for empowerment, waist-level bosoms for the sense of humor you always wished you had, and spider veins for the balls, I mean courage you’ve shown as a senior woman.  God is funny like that, isn’t she?  She gives and takes, and I think she must be REALLY old, don’t you?  

Oh.  I’d devote this paragraph to senior sex, but I have nothing to report.  And, I’m not even sure that’s an injustice.

KK

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Yes, that old saying is so true.  Youth is wasted on the young.  That’s because they’re stupid.  You don’t get smart until you’re in your forties.  That is unless by then you got paranoid schizophrenia, accidentally went deaf and dumb, or married Donald Trump. Be that as it may, wisdom is wasted on the young.  We invented Dairy Queen, free sex, and peasant blouses.  We think The Secret is real and that the world will end, so who cares about how smart you are?  Really.  We only have about three years here to have some fun and max out our Citi Cards.

I guess I wouldn’t mind being young again as long as I can still know what I know now. When I was young I thought all grown-ups were smarter than I was just because they were older and had a cocktail in their hand.  Now I’m the older person with a cocktail in my hand and I’m just now figuring things out.  It took me 69 years to figure out that you have to do what your heart tells you to do and you can’t get spilled fingernail polish out of the carpet no matter what you do.

I know now that the young people of today don’t want to hear anything we seniors have to say.  They don’t’ want to listen to our well-learned lessons because they think we are relics who don’t know the first thing about Twitter, Facebook, or MySpace.  That’s good, because secretly we are taking over the internet and learning how to use it to rid the world of texting, a Hanna Montana reboot, and Japanese computer-generated avatars with big, huge eyes.  You can thank us for that one later.

And won’t you be surprised when suddenly the most important demographic becomes 60 to 80 years old instead of 18 to 24.  All programming, ads and products will be aimed at us and ‘90210-2.0’ will go off the air in favor of…’The Kominski Method’!!! So learn all your lessons yourselves, you young punks.  You’re on your own.

SalGal

BEWARE the Scam!!!

If you live with your sister, put a LOCK on her phone...especially if she thinks that Publisher's Clearing House is going to give her money...ANY money!

Sayings We Should Have Learned...like..."NEVER SQUAT WHILE WEARING YOUR SPURS!"

I’ve been thinking about Will Rogers lately.  He was the cowboy humorist whose quote is the title of today’s posting...that and, “Never miss a good chance to shut up.”  Well, THAT one landed on deaf ears most certainly.  He’s gotten me to thinking about metaphors for wonderful sayings that are meant to both help you and make sense at the same time.  Perhaps a recap of common sense is warranted today.

“Never fall in love with a traveling, loner musician in his sixties who’s so stuck in his ways as to be the veritable tar baby.”  This saying might be too long and too detailed to serve as a common sense metaphor...okay, it’s not a metaphor at all, big deal...it’s TRUE!  Beyond, there be dragons.

Will also said, “Always drink upstream from the herd.”  Taken literally, we’d all save ourselves a lot of wasted work days and pain and suffering if we did this...like wearing those surgical masks that the Japanese people wear.  They’re not stupid.  Look at how many of them there are, probably because they never get sick.  I’m just saying.

Here’s another one of mine, “Never ever send an email to anyone unless you are absolutely CERTAIN that the recipient is the person to whom, and with whom you mean to communicate.” I suspicion that there is cyber head shaking, some ‘M-Hmm’s and some, ‘You got that right, sister’ going on over this common sense example. I’m speaking from experience, of course.

And, pertaining to growing older, Will had a few thoughts on that, so I will close with one that rang particularly true for me:

”When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to youth, think of Algebra.”

KK

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This is a very complex and intellectual list.  Frankly, I don’t understand some of them:

“Never slap a man who's chewing tobacco.”

Now, why on earth would you want to slap a man, whether he is chewing tobacco or not?  Unless you just found out he cheated on you with that ugly-ass blonde from the grocery store lottery counter.

“Never kick a cow chip on a hot day.”

Now, why on earth would you ever want to kick a cow chip on a hot day?  First of all, what are you doing outside in a cow field on a hot day in the first place?  Get inside, turn on the air conditioning, and hire that kid at the neighboring pig farm to go rake up the cow shit.

“There are two theories to arguing with a woman.  Neither works.”

Am I missing something here?  What are the two theories?  Be specific.

“If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.”

What the hell?

“The quickest way to double your money is to fold it and put it back into your pocket.”

I fold my dollar bills twice, so I guess I quadruple my money.  But then I don’t put it back in my pocket.  I give it to the valet parker at the Four Seasons so he won’t know right off that I’m only giving him one dollar.

“There are three kinds of men: The ones that learn by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence and find out for themselves.”

I think there are four kinds of men.  What about the ones who learn by listening to women.  Oh, sorry….no such man.  How right you are.

“Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier'n puttin' it back.”

I don’t get this at all.  Just don’t let the damn cat out of the bag in the first place.

ABOUT GROWING OLDER...

“Eventually you will reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.”

Okay, this is bullshit and would never happen to any woman over forty.

“The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.”

That’s not true.  And, the line for wrinkle creams and cellulite remover are getting longer and longer the more baby boomers turn 50.

“You know you are getting old when everything either dries up or leaks.”

This includes the man you are dating.

“One of the many things no one tells you about aging is that it's such a nice change from being young.”

This is just bullshit.

“One must wait until evening to see how splendid the day has been.”

Or how crummy – thank God, by then it’s over.

“Being young is beautiful, but being old is comfortable.”

Not if you’re out in a cow field on a hot day.

“Long ago, when men cursed and beat the ground with sticks, it was called witchcraft. Today it's called golf.”

Or baseball.

“If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you're old.”

Yes you will.  You can laugh at your cats, your best friend’s new hairdo, or any movie with Keanu Reeves.

SalGal

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I’m thinkin’ that sal got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!!!  You okay, SalGal??

KK

Time to revisit the age-old argument...to labor or not to labor on Labor Day!

GET IT WHILE IT'S HOT!!!!!

KK has done it!!  Not only is her comic mystery novel available on Amazon/Audible and in paperback, she actually NARRATED the damn thing!  Let's just call her audio style 'irreverent.' Yeah, that's it...maybe add 'sarcastic,' 'deeply melodic,' 'dramatic,' 'Texan,' and of course...SPOT ON!  

Her first audiobook review says it all...or most of it anyhoo:

Wildly entertaining and laugh out loud 

This is a crazy tale written and told by a gut-busting funny Texan, Kelly Jackson. The story itself is worthy but Jackson's narration brings it to life so we feel like we are there experiencing it all with her. The reading is dramatic and lively, but also comic and artistic. Ms. Jackson is a huge talent who does it all.

Listen to A Texan Goes to Nirvana here

Audiobook Narrations ARE US!!!

That's right!  SalGal and KK are branching out...for a fit that suits us like a glove.  We are brand new audiobook narrators.  Let's face it...we ARE characters, no question or arguments there, so we KNOW about characters, and we LOVE characters, and we have too much time on our hands, which is nothing new.

This is a wonderful outlet, aside from our 'written-word' madness...now, we can narrate YOUR written-word insanity or gravitas (and being happy while narrating sadness, death, tragedy takes SOME kind of talent...and a vodka martini at the end of a chapter or five!)...we GOT this!

All of us know SOMEONE who listens to audiobooks with but a few degrees of separation.  And, your homework for the day is to recommend us to any author whom you know who has written a book and wants to find the perfect VOICE for their story.

SPREAD THE WORD PEOPLE!!!  Contact KK at fencepostkelly@gmail.com / SalGal at actorsmuse@gmail.com

Love,
The Midlife Gals At the Mic!

Security Questions? JUST ASK US!!!

The Midlife Gals have been thinking...always a scary prospect...about 'security questions.' You know, the ones you have to make up for online security...or pick the default questions that some idiot thought up to REALLY trick the criminals. Here's our list:

Sal's Security Questions:

What is your favorite vodka?

The cheapest

What is your favorite curse word?

Dick head

What would be your ideal job?

Cocktail contest judge

What was the name of your kindergarten school?

Mother's walk-in closet/purse section

What do you sleep in?

Only step-ins/no jammies

What's your favorite food?

pâté de foie gras or a Frito Pie with extra cheese

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KK's Security Questions:

In what location did you lose your virginity?

Parent's living room floor

What did you name your current automobile?

Kukla

What goes with olives?

Seriously? Martinis...du'uh.

Which husband was your favorite?

Mr. 3

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Now, if we can just remember our answers! 

KK and Sal

Happy Mother's Day Deedles!

We fixed The Ancient One up with a date...which DID NOT go well!  

We miss you, Deedles!  

Left vs Right...The Twain Should Meet!

                                    Definition Right Brain vs. Left Brain

“This theory of the structure and functions of the mind suggests that the two different sides of the brain control two different “modes” of thinking. It also suggests that each of us prefers one mode over the other.”

This just explains SO much about the difference between SalGal and me.  I do suspicion that Albert Einstein had a twisted balance between the two lobes or he wouldn’t have this sensibility:

Einstein Funny Quotes:

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.

Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.

In order to form an immaculate member of a flock of sheep one must, above all, be a sheep.

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Technological progress is like an axe in the hands of a pathological criminal.

The devil has put a penalty on all things we enjoy in life. Either we suffer in health or we suffer in soul or we get fat.

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Sally and I form one perfect whole...okay...an imperfect whole, but that’s another story.  She lives in a mansion on the water on a different planet most of the year.  When called back to my left-brain world in order to complete some analytical project that I’ve given her...she brings a small carry-on bag.  She doesn’t like to stay too long.  I can’t blame her, because there is a teensy-weensy segment of my brain that travels to-and-fro my own right-brained planet, especially when I’m telling a story...I can get very carried away.

God had such a great sense of humor when forming these two lobes of our brains.  No wonder she had to rest on the seventh day, week, year...whatEVER.  I’m too pragmatic to believe in an actual figure called God.  When I see the stars and planets at night, I know that I am but an infinitesimal ‘ash’ spewed from a forming galaxy.  It’s both a comforting, yet unsettling notion that reminds me of a greater power, but not someone in a toga with long, white hair.  Seriously?  That’s all we could come up with visually for the essence of love?

I’m getting off track here because sometimes I write while I’m plotting my circular route that will take me through the six errands I have to run and home again within the time parameter I have set for myself.  At the end of a day, over a martini, I discuss the successes of my day and all of the things I accomplished, which are usually legion because I’m organized, ok?  Then, I pamper myself by watching shows on the ‘Crime and Investigation’ channel:  Manhunters (US Marshals chasing bad guys all over the country), Food channel: Iron Chef America (a frantic yet highly-organized contest between two chefs to prepare the perfect meal within a one-hour time frame), NBC: Jeopardy (we all know how left brain Alex Trebec is, and to really let loose, I’ll watch Project Runway (creative, right-brainers also frantically working toward making a single garment within a very strict time frame).  There is a disturbing pattern that I’ve just discovered after ‘crafting’ this paragraph.

THERE IS NO HOPE FOR ME!!!!!!!

KK

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Well, I have to admit that KK is right about everything.  She has a good hold on her left brain, analytical, organized ways of looking at the day, while I bumblefuck my way through projects like a monkey in a costume shop.  I may decide to put the pants on my head and use a beret as a codpiece, but I do end up with an appropriate wardrobe in the end.  I just need KK to tell me how to wear it.  “Do these yellow socks go with this red and gold gypsy scarf?”  She shakes her head and goes to her closet for some more presentable garb for me, as she balances her checkbook and programs the DVR for daily recordings of ‘SWAT/Aida,Oklahama’ on the way to her closet.

I get things done, dammit.  I do.  But if I’m on a mission to go to Costco for some kitty litter and olives, and I see a rainbow over the canal, I’m going to pull over and enjoy the show.  And if I see a garage sale on Kahala Street with giant conch shells visible on the grass and candles in the shape of mermaids, well, Costco can wait.

I would really like to have a perfectly organized life but things just get in the way of my plans.  If I’m in my left brain for too long a period of time, I get petulant and I have to take a nap and then eat M&M’s as soon as I wake up.  I don’t know why….

KK, on the other hand, needs to know why for everything.  “Why can’t you see that the bank is on the way to Costco and to go that way so you can kill of two birds with one stone?”

“Oh, KK, that is so cruel.  Those birds never hurt anyone and just because they shit on your car windshield is no reason to plot their deaths by stoning.”

You see what I have to put up with?  We just don’t think alike.  Our conversations over Martinis today will be interesting as usual.  Things she accomplished, things I forgot to do because I saw an albino cat in a window on our street and had to stop and take a picture of it on my I-Phone so I could post it on my facebook page…but I digress again.

She will understand, as long as it’s a double shot of vodka that flips her into her right brain...that there are no olives in our ‘Teenees’ today because I never made it to Costco.

SalGal

Things The Royals Don't Get to Do or Have

Apparently the Royals don’t get to sleep in.  There seems to always be someone ‘in waiting’ to assist them, and everyone is on a tight shedjule.  The dressers have to get them ready.  I’ll bet dollars to donuts the Queen does not own a pair of jeans.  That’s a shame, and we feel sorry for her.  Elizabeth is of the panty hose generation (thank God that’s over).  And, I’m fairly certain that the royal closets do not contain an exercise outfit for her either.  No lilac, polyester leisure suit in which to lounge around the palace. I’ll bet she still wears a girdle.

Because we long ago won our independence from the British Empire, I am able to say all these tacky things about the Queen.  The Brits say some pretty tacky things too, so I’m in good company.  It’s just that I wonder about things like this, I mean, when I’m not thinking lofty, sophisticated, intelligent thoughts, which takes up my mornings, but then leaves me all afternoon to ponder the trivial...like whether Prince Philip wear boxers or briefs...briefs on Prince Philip..ROTFLMAO!!

We’ve all been visualizing Will and Kate’s wedding night in the boudoir...oh come on.  But, they’ve been together so long already, I wonder if they needed to watch a porn video just to get things going. Probably not.  They’re still young. What did her negligee look like? Did he doff a red velvet robe with a matching thong underneath?

Does the Queen have a Lazy-Boy recliner with the feet that come up and pockets on the sides where she can keep royal documents to work on during Wheel of Fortune (if they get that show in the UK, I don’t know).  Do the royal ladies do their own makeup?  Probably, because every one of them could use serious make overs.  Not Kate though.  

Well, that was fun.  Just pondering things that make the world more interesting for me.  It’s pretty interesting already, but wouldn’t you like to dumpster dive at Buckingham Palace just to see what’s going on in there??????

Cheerio

KK 

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Can the royals have simple pleasures?  Do they even have a front porch?  Do the young couples from the neighborhood push their babies by in Belgian Laced prams trimmed with satin bows and studded with pearls?  Do the royals sit there with their perfect martinis in hand and diss the Euro-trash, hoarders who live in the castle down the dale?  Never mind that it is the Prince of Monaco and the hoard is a pile of marble statues of Roman Gods piled next to the freezer in the 12-car garage.  Still tacky.

I’ll bet you some crispy oysters at The Four Seasons that none of the royals have ever taken a plastic spoon and dived into a greasy Frito Pie, yes, still in the Frito package and dripping with cheese.  Poor things, bless their hearts, they are deprived.

KK and I are going to meet a friend for Happy Hour at our favorite, little French restaurant downtown on Friday.  All we have to do is put on some cool jewelry, retouch our ‘J-Lo Sparkles-Are-Good-Bronzer’, and walk out the door.  We don’t have to wait for the security team to clear the restaurant, and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar sapphire necklace and matching bracelet to be brought down from the vault in the Tower of London so that we can wear that royal blue, brushed silk cocktail dress that was delivered from the showroom at the Chanel store. God forbid that they would have to go amongst the riffraff to actually shop for clothes.  The royals can’t go shopping without the paparazzi finding out what size their bras and panties are and broadcasting that info on the Naked News channel that night.

I’ll bet the royals don’t even know what the two-step is…or how a good batch of popcorn at the local movie theater is when it falls out hot and salty from the popper.  They must have to rely on Netflix.  Can you imagine what they would have to go through just to slip out to the movies and see the latest Vin Diesel movie?

God, we’re so lucky,

SalGal

Don't Pick Your Valentine Blindly!

Thank GOD KK was there to help!!!!!

Happy New Year...Jezebel!

Southern women start the new year off with, what else....black-eyed peas...du'uh!  And what goes with those peas...JEZEBEL sauce...if you can just keep KK away from the process!!!!