You Can't Listen to THAT! Those Lyrics are Unacceptable..

You would not believe whose mouth those words came out of recently. First, I would like to review my childhood in music.

My first memories were of Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head and Everybody Get Together, Try and Love One Another Right now. From there, my older brother, who I idolized, gave me my solid rock background. The Beetles, the Who, Jefferson Airplaine, David Bowie, Zeppelin. I heard all the greats while in their prime, before the start of their 10 fairwell tours. When I was 8 or 9, my brother gave me my first Jimi Hendrix album and a Kinks 45 of Lola. I was on my way.

I took a detour, as every young girl should, to be totally a part of Casey Kasem's top 100. It was a short detour. Then, there was the first time I heard Boston. I was at some party, with a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other. (No years or ages will be used - I have children for goodness sakes!) I was blown away. Yes, More than a Feeling. Journey, Springsteen, Stones...

By high school, I was a punk. In more ways than one. Patti Smith Group was my band through much of high school. We ask that you please do not confuse Patti Smith Group with Patti Smyth of Warrier. Very different music. Patti Smith was a performance artist, a poet, a rocker, an artist all rolled up into one. I felt that I had found my soul mate! (minus the no shaving the armpits and peeing on stage thing) "I don't F*** much with the past, but I f*** plenty with the future". Of course, during depressing times, it was side 3 of Pink Floyd the Wall...yes, of course. And, Black Sabbath. Ozzie to Ronnie James Dio (RIP), I loved Sabbath. They wrote a song just for me....Paranoid.

I always had a wide variety of music that I liked. I had all of it right there at my fingertips. My brother's vinyl collection. At my fingertips, as long as he was not aware at ALL. I left no fingerprints and kept them in the order in which I found them. There are a couple of Beethoven tunes that make my skin break out in goose bumps. I love Melanie and folk music, let's wear some flowers in our hair music. And, very secretly, very privately, some country music gives me warm fuzzies of memories. But, head banging rock is my heart. Oh, yea, and Heart, Scorpians, ACDC, Rainbow... too many to list.

But.... Rap. My 12 year old son likes Rap. Don't get me wrong. I love Will Smith. He can do anything..funny, sexy, talented. But, real rap. Life is unfair, women are bitches... What did he just say??? Flash back to my taste in music, "I used to love her, but I had to kill her". "HAHAHAHAHA...I I I I... " Let's face it Ozzy is the norm now...I UNDERSTAND Ozzy!

Lil Wayne "You know the hoes love weezy, sticky pimp small, long hair, big dick" and it gets worse from there." "Pour some sugar on me..." "I ain't go no love for no broads" "She told me to come but I was already there..." (I do apologize if you don't realize I am going from lyrics from my songs to lyrics to his songs.)

My head spins. My music, his music. And, yes I said it. My mother never even said it to me through the Patti Smith years, but I said it " You can't listen to THAT! Those lyrics are UNACCEPTABLE." Okay, I said it. In my defense, my Clifton Park, Ballston Spa son will never be a young, misunderstood, dealing with prejudice, black man. But, I will always be....

PARANOID!

Do you know where you're going to?

I graduated from 8th grade in 1977. My class sang "Do you know where you're going to?" at graduation. The song is from a Diana Ross movie entitled "Mahogany". The song has been going through my head alot lately. Maybe its midlife making me take a good look at myself. Or, maybe it is the fact that the company where I grew up was bought out in 2002. But, here I am. A forty-six year old woman with no idea what I want to be when I grow up. And the clock, she's a tickin'.

I started at Intercounty when I was 20 years old. I worked up the ranks in customer service, management, product development. I reached the point where I LOVED my job. I loved my boss. I loved my employees. Then, in walks the big bad competitor and snuffed it all out. I know there are people out there going through the same. So many of us feeling lost in middle age. Oh, they didn't let me go. I stayed on for a year. Then, I left because it was just not the same. And, I wanted to be with my kids. I tried for 11 years to have them, I didn't want to miss their childhood working until 8:00 at night.

But, the honest truth is that I am not a good full time stay at home mom. I loved being with my babies, but I lost a part of myself. I became shy and insecure. And, I had a bout of serious depression. So, I went back to work for the same main company, but a different sister company. Part time. Now, that is where it is at for a person like me. It was the best of both worlds. Out and about with adults, working hard, then being there when the kids got off the bus. Unfortunately, then the recession really hit. Last June, I went back full time.

I am now a sales representative. I have been in the same business for my whole adult life. Sales was the one part I hadn't done yet. I am getting positive feedback and encouragement from my peers. But, I am not sure if it is for me. I have daydreams of breaking out of my cubicle and running around the building. I have 20 more years of working. Can I handle spending that time in a 4x4 cubicle?

I have always thought of being a nurse. The schooling part scares me. I haven't always been a good student. Oh, I always got decent grades. But, I never really worked at it. Would I be different now? It has been sooo long since I went to college at the Country Grove Inn, oops I mean, Hudson Valley Community College. I would definitely have to work at it. My memory isn't what it used to be. Can I study, work full time, and give my family the time they deserve? Am I too old to do the 12 hour night shifts? Am I just too damn old???

"Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life's been showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know?"

Pin the tail on the Donkey

I missed another appointment today. I got lost. I get lost often. I suffer from dds - direction deficit syndrome.


I suppose I am not alone. I mean, that's why they created the GPS, right? This appointment was not serious. It was just a hair appointment at a new salon. Usually, I am not late. I am high maintenance, but prompt. If my husband drives, we sometimes arrive too early. I am only late if I am going somewhere without him. It is not because I am home with a curling iron stuck in my hair. It is because I am driving around and have no idea where I am. The last new hair salon I went to, I got lost. My first appointment with my therapist, I got lost. I was 30 minutes late. After I got to my destination, I realized I didn't have 2 shoes in the car that matched. The two different shoes took the emphasis off the 30 minutes I was late.


My first recollection of my struggle was when I was seven years old. We lived on Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. Our house was on base and a block away from school. In September, I left school with my friend MaryJane. I ended up on the far end of the base, away from my house. I had to stop at a stranger's house and ask to use the phone to call my mother. That weekend, my parents walked me up the street, across the street, to school and back. But, I realized quickly that my particular problem happens when there is more than one exit to a building. I knew my way home if I left through the right door. But, if I go out a different door...well...and I couldn't remember which door was the right door.


Since that day, I have gotten lost in hospitals, hotels and train stations. Let's take Penn Station for example. It is one thing when you can't find your way when you are new to the city. But, I traveled there once a week. One time, I was going straight to the Penn Hotel. So, I thought I would be fancy and go out a different door. No matter how I tried, I kept ending up in Madison Square Garden. Seriously, in Madison Square Garden. I felt that normal heat rise up to my face and the sheer panic set in.


My normal way out of Penn Station is the 8th Avenue Exit. My destination was our office on 9th Avenue. What could possibly be easier. I got lost every time. I went left when I should have gone right ..or was it right when I should have gone left? I still don't know. Fortunately, I have a friend that starting meeting me there and walking with me to the office.


Hospitals. Sure, a hospital like Albany Medical is like a giant maze to me. I have no hope and have never dared to try and find my way around there even with the color coded lines on the floor and walls. But, I once worked nights at the small Saratoga hospital. I had to cover for another secretary on a different floor. When I was finished, I decided to take the stairs. I ended up locked outside of the back of the hospital at 3:30am.


Hotels. First, I must say that I find the floor numbers in the elevators ambigous. I want one button that tells me how to get to the front desk and the door out. But, instead, they have main lobby, first floor and a star next to the number 2. Shouldn't they all mean the same thing? One time, I kept ending up in the restaurant, unable to find a door that led outside. And, again with hotels, why do they have so many doors to different parking lots. If you take the wrong exit out of a single room, you end up on the other side of the hotel in the wrong parking lot. And every floor of rooms looks the same. The agony and sheer panic overwhelms me.

So, if you see a middle aged woman walking around looking like she just got spun to play pin the tail on the donkey, it may very well be me...Please be kind and point me in the right direction!

Is nothing sacred anymore?

Is nothing sacred anymore?

No, this is not a blog about faith and/or religion. This is a blog about bodily functions or the lack thereof.


When I lived with my parents, the word "fart" was a bad word. You tooted, passed gas, maybe even cut the cheese but you never ever farted. And, there used to be a time when a person would be mortified if they happened to fart in public. But, now, fart is an everyday occurence on TV, including the Disney station. Everyone farts. And, everyone laughs. If you happen to be in a job interview and feel the bloat coming forth in your body, you can pop a gas-x while the interviewer is taking a call from her son, Rip. Of course, I laugh at that commercial. However, I do hate when the "Nausea... heartburn...indigestion....upset stomach...diarrhea" song gets stuck in my head. Do you they do the dance now at weddings? Right after the electric slide?

I used to hate when people kissed too heavily when I was watching a movie with my father in the room. But, now I can watch TV with my son (11) and daughter (9) while a group of men talk about their erectile dysfunction. I have to think these men are getting paid top dollar to go on TV and announce that they can't ..well, participate in certain activities. Especially with the way men are...no offense meant, it is just a fact. But, fortunately, we women now have KY for Her, that will make volcanoes erupt. So, even if the man can participate even a little, rest assured, fun will be had. And, if she has burning afterward, Vagisil will help her love being a woman.

I used to get embarrassed if a tampon commercial came on in the old days. Before they said "period". Though I totally understood why we had to drop the "I have my friend" and "my monthly gift". I thought "Aunt Flo" was pretty funny. But, now, all our terrible secrets are right out there in the open. We can't zip our pants, we are nervous wearing white, and the pain tends to make us a tad irritable. Have a happy period? Really?

I leave you with this cosmic question. How many times is it funny to see a guy get hit in the balls? Come on now. Once, twice, we might chuckle at the poor man's terrible luck. But, video shows are now 1 hour of fun filled ball busting. Literally.

I Am Woman...

It is such a coincidence that the girls in the Sex and the City 2 movie sang this song. As I thought about this blog, it was my full intention to mention this Helen Reddy classic. Because I am middle aged, I remember Helen Reddy singing this song on all the variety shows in the 70's. For those too young, in the 70's, no one wore bras on TV. There were a lot of sagging breasts on prime time. The burning of the bra was to symbolize women breaking free of second class status. Fortunately, women realized that bras were a necessary evil if you wanted to have a torso.

ANYWAY... Women. We are strong, we are invincible..We are Woman! We are a combination of intelligence and responsibility, beauty and strength, compassion and insightfullness. And, frankly, we are damn tired. You see, when women were burning their bras and demanding the right to be equal, we should have shot for being treated better, not equal. We earned the right to work full time AND continue doing all the things women did before. We didn't give up anything, we only added a career on top.

Now, we live in a society where two cars is the norm. We don't live in the small ranches we grew up in. No, we live in colonials and the like. Our children walk around with $200 gadgets listening to music. They have game systems that cost $200+ with corresponding games that cost $35-45. The dolls are $100+ each and the clothes for them cost more than I spend on myself. Oh, and gas for our cars is $3.00 a gallon.

Many women struggle with dropping their babies off at a daycare. Off to work they go, not because they have the ability and want to prove they can do anything men can do, not because we love our careers. We KNOW we can do anything men can do. AND, many of us have "jobs" not "careers". We do it for the money. Even though much of our hard earned money goes back to the people at the daycare, we still do it because we need the money. We have altered the way we live to where we no longer can survive with one salary.

My niece, who recently went back to work after having a baby, said how am I going to do this? My work exhausts me and then I have to come home and try to spend a wonderful hour with my son before he goes to sleep. And, I said the wise (?) words of "It will get easier". It will get easier because "We are strong, We are invincible". But, our hearts want to be with the baby.

I am blessed, I have a wonderful husband. I know that I would have a tough time doing it without him. But, even with him, I have to be medicated. Yes, I am on anxiety medication. As are many, many of the woman I know. Because even though I am strong and invincible, the responsibility of it all gives me the shakes sometimes. So, with a bottle in hand, I declare proudly........I AM WOMAN.