Springing Forward

I used to look forward to Daylight Saving Time. It meant that after dinner my kids could still go outside and play for awhile. I could take a walk. Neighbors could gather on front porches and talk. And best of all, it meant that summer was just around the corner. After all, we were Springing Forward.

Now it’s not even spring yet! March has yet to really get going.

We could still have more rain and in some parts of the country it is still snowing. Who needs an extra hour of daylight when the weather still says it is winter?Another hour of sleet and snow and rain! On those days, I like staying inside, cuddled by the fireplace with my family.

I know this early Daylight Saving is supposed to save energy. But after three years, I’m still trying to get used it.

But that got me to thinking about the concept of time. Wouldn’t it be great if we could save time itself? If all those Daylight Saving hours were actually saved in personal Time Bank accounts?

Every Daylight Saving we would add another hour, not be used until we turned forty, or of an age when we could really appreciate time. Our hours would accumulate and then each fall when we turn the clocks back, we could go to our time bank and withdraw whichever hour we wanted.

I might take an hour from a day in high school when Billy smiled at me. To remind me of how young love felt. And that I could feel all hot inside without having a hot flash.

Or an hour from when my daughter was born and I cradled her in my arms. A day I never tire of remembering. And would love to experience again. And again.

Or maybe an hour from when my foot was broken to remind me to slow down.

If we are feeling sad about something, we could take a “happy” hour from our bank to remind us that life is all about ups and downs. We could take an hour to help us through a tough situation. Or spend time again with someone who is no longer with us.

If need be, we could borrow against these hours, taking them out when we needed extra minutes to meet a deadline. Or maybe even trade hours. To experience how it really feels to walk in someone else’s shoes. And how about loaning hours to someone whose life is being cut short way too soon?

Ah, the possibilities are limitless. That is – if it were only possible.

Think about it.

What hour would you withdraw from your Time Savings Bank?What if we could bank that hour we lost this morning and use it sometime in the future?

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Then: Cartoons Now: CarTunes

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's 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.

It appears that the battery operated vehicle of tomorrow, while being better suited for our environment, may prove to be hazardous to our safety. There is speculation that because we are so used to hearing the roar of traffic and the whir of engines that the silence of this future car, could confuse us into walking into on coming traffic.

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: Tool Wall Now: Tool Bar

My father used to have a workshop with a million different tools. They hung on the wall, each on its on hook, neatly arranged by size and function. It was an impressive sight. And to this day I can still picture walking into his shop, smelling the sawdust, hearing the whir of the machines and knowing that something concrete was being created.

Years later, my husband had the same set up with pegs and tools.

When he was a toddler, my stepson used to carry around a toolbox with his screwdriver, hammer, nails and wrench.

And now my grandson plays with all those same instruments for fixing and building things.

Hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, saws, nails - those were the tools I grew up around.
But now, well, tools can be something so different from those tangible items hanging on my dad’s corkboard or inside a metal box. At the age of eighty-eight, my dad can’t even comprehend their purpose.

Yes - I’m talking about that toolbar at the top of the very screen that I am now typing on. Edit. View. Insert. Track changes. Spelling. Autoscan. Merge. Customize. Format. Bullets. There is a tool for everything. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt if future tools include: stir martini, fix dinner, do dishes.

Sometimes these tools on the computer toolbar are hard to find, even harder to understand and yet so easy to delete.

One simple click of the mouse and whoosh, whatever you were trying to find is gone! According to my computer techie (genius that he is) it’s still there, but I’ve done something wrong. Been over anxious. Clicked too fast. Moved it off the screen. Well, if it’s off the screen, then it’s not here! It’s gone missing.

Before when my dad couldn’t find his tape measure, it was usually somewhere in his workshop. Maybe under some wood or shoved in the corner. It certainly hadn’t vanished into thin air. And most definitely, the entire workshop never disappeared.

Which is what just happened while I was writing this column. I’ve lost my entire toolbar. I have no idea where it went. Off into Cyberspace, a place that really can’t be touched because it’s out there somewhere. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to look for it.

It may have gone into the kitchen. But if not, I know I can get an ice cold martini which will make searching for my missing tools that much easier!

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Calling All Baby Boomers

I have a new blog up...

http://www.theboomerrants.com/

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THEN: G-Spot Now: G-Word

Remember when finding your G-Spot was all the rage? Some German scientist came out with an article, sending the female population on a search that for some ended in elation and for others in confusion and disappointment. Did you find yours? Yes! And it was wonderful. Did you? NO. Is there something wrong with me? Where exactly is this spot? It wasn’t like finding a city on a map with an an exact longitude or latitude to go by. Why, even today’s new GPS systems wouldn’t have been much help back then.

I can’t say that I ever did find mine, but it didn’t make sex any less enjoyable. For years I haven’t even thought about it. I’m sure “the” spot is still there, but just as the terrain of the earth has shifted due to forces of nature, gravity may have moved my G-spot a few inches from where it used to be.

Face it - that G word –Gravity, has a mind of it’s own. And like it or not, it eventually pulls on all of us. Making us a few inches shorter, a little wider, a little slower as we grow older. Our skin starts to sag, joints creak and those perky body parts start to droop.

But like it or not, we need gravity to keep us planted on the ground, otherwise we’d be floating around in space. A little like I feel every time I have a hot flash. I’m beginning to think that during those hormonal body-quakes that gravity is taking a leave of absence, leaving me to find solid ground. Which ultimately happens but not after several tortuous minutes of internal overheating.

But then there is another G word out there that pulls on me in a totally different way. And that word is - Grandma. Hearing it makes my heart swell, speeds up my adrenalin and gives a boost of energy that can’t be provided by any drink or pill.

For those of you who have not yet been called by that name, let me tell you, there is nothing like it. Even during my hormonal body-quakes that simple word leaves an imprint on my mind.

There is a special place in my heart where everything Grandma-related resides. And that spot will never be changed by Gravity!!

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Then: Mary, Jane & Susan Now: Apple, Audio & Crazy
originally posted: September 14, 2009

It used to be easy to tell gender by one’s name. When I was in high school, I knew a lot of Steves, Roberts, Johns and Alans. All of them were guys. As for girls we had a lot of Beverlys, Carols, Susans and Marshas.

Of course I knew a boy called Lynn (I felt so sorry for him) and sometimes nicknames could be confusing. Such as Ronni for Veronica and Bobbi for Barbara. Unless you could see the name spelled out.

And then there were always those few kids whose parents couldn’t tell the difference between a first name and a last one. You know -the Edward Edwards, or the Jackson Jacksons.

But overall it wasn’t as confusing as it is today. Now names are all over the place.

Actually, I don’t mind girls with traditional boys names or some of the newer unisex names.

It’s the “crazy–out-there” celebrity baby names that I can’t get my head around. Sometimes I’m not sure if they are referring to an actual child or a cuddly little puppy. I often wonder what in the world these parents were thinking. Or if they were thinking anything at all.

But then I guess with a celebrity it might not matter. The child of a famous person isn’t going to live a normal life, no matter what his name is.

It’s the regular kids whose parents think…oh, so cool - I’ll copy Gwyneth and name my daughter Apple. But Apple doesn’t really work as well when it’s followed by Birnbaum and especially if that Birnbaum owns a fruit market.

And then there is Jermaine Jackson’s son, Jermasjesty. He might not get teased but the little red haired boy with freckles and the last name Temple or King surely might.

Or I.P. Freely. Giving his child that name should have been more than enough to send David Carradine to his horrible fate. I can’t even imagine a celebrity using this name.

But my favorite “out-there-crazy-name” is Audio Science. I have no idea if this child is a girl or a boy and I don’t even think having a famous parent (Shannyn Sossamon) will make this child immune from playground taunting.

They say names can influence your personality. The way you view the world and in return the way the world views you. Perhaps Audio Science is destined to work in the Audio/Visual department at his/her high school. Jermasjesty is going to marry a real Princess and not the daughter of Bob Geldof. And I.P. is going to sell toilet paper.

Well, everything goes in cycles. Names come and go. One thing that never changes is teasing. Especially on the playground. And kids love to make up nicknames, for whatever reason.

So I say, starting off with a normal name just makes life that much easier.

What do you think?

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Then: Four Doors & Air Now: A Vibrator & Voice Activator
originally posted: August 5, 2009

I don’t know about you, but in my case, buying a car has never been a good experience, or a short one at that. No matter how well prepared I’ve been, it always takes about an hour to find the car I want (even when I get to the lot with the exact model in mind) and then five more to get through the financing. So, we’re talking the better part of a day.

Usually upon arriving the salesmen descend upon me like vultures. More often than not the car I’ve come to look at, isn’t even on the lot, or if it is, it comes with so many catches that I’m soon looking at another model. And I try to stick to my original intentions of putting X amount down and paying X amount per month. But this too, always gets changed, once the sales guys starts running the numbers. That’s when I want to run away.

But every time I try to leave, he reels me back in like fish on a hook. And just like that fish, I always feel like I’m floundering around without enough air while making what the salesman calls the “deal of a lifetime.”

Throughout my life, I’ve been through many such ordeals and nothing has changed. The only thing different is the actual car I’ve purchased. And in this respect there is a world of difference between my very first car, way back in the day, and the one I helped my daughter buy yesterday.

My first car, a 1960 Falcon, came with a key, windows that rolled up manually, an AM radio with six buttons for setting the stations, windshield wipers and of course tires, an ashtray and lighter. Back then “luxury” meant four doors, electric windows, an electric antenna and sometimes an electric motor for convertibles. Oh, and tinted windows and leather seats.

Now- well- it’s a whole different ballgame. Gone are the ashtrays and lighters and in their place are a slew of features right out of an old science fiction novel.

There is a digital readout telling you what song is playing on the AM/FM radio, CD or your iPod. No more guessing what music you’re listening to. GPS systems to guide you to your destination. Hands free Bluetooth for using your cell phone with voice activation, so that you don’t even have to dial any numbers. Driver Memory. Smart Cruise Control. You name it. The car has it.

Some cars even come with discs, instead of keys. This disc can be programmed to not only unlock the car as you approach it, but to roll down the windows, open the convertible top, unfold the side view mirrors (which had been folded-in when putting the car in Park) turn on the iPod, and adjust and warm the seats. All before you’re within a foot of your vehicle.

With all this, I’m expecting a vibrator to come out and give me that happy feeling before the car takes me off to my destination.

Because I’m sure that’s what the future car will be like. Totally hands free. All we’ll have say is, “Take me the beach.” And off the car will go. “Play Satisfaction”. The music will start. “Top down.” Down it comes. “Warm my butt.” On goes the seat warmer. “Call in sick for me, will you?”

But there is one thing that technology can’t improve on. And those are the memories one makes while driving in their car. It didn’t matter that my little Falcon had manual windows and only two doors. And it didn’t matter that the seats were sticky in the summer and cold in the winter. What mattered were all the hours I spent driving around with my friends creating memories that have lasted forever.

I hope my daughter can make as many happy memories in this new gadget-filled car of hers as I did back then.

And maybe the next time I buy a car, I’ll be dealing with a robot!

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