Riding the Bike with One Pedal.

Month: January 2011

1,676 Days

I’ve never been a smoker, but I’ve witnessed how difficult it is to quit. For all of my friends out there who are struggling with it, you have my sympathies.

My dad would have been 67 today. He died at the age of 62, ravaged with cancer they believe started in his lungs. He smoked 2-3 or more packs of unfiltered Camels a day, for over 20 years. He finally quit, but the damage remained. I miss him every day.  It’s been 1,676 days, in fact.   The cancer swept through him like a forest fire, and it took a long time to restore my memories of the vibrant, sarcastic, bushy-haired, bearded father I’d known for 30+ years, from the last weeks where his body became a fragile hollow shell. Mostly I miss being able to laugh with him about things, but the hardest moments are when I want advice, from someone who’s known me for a lifetime.   So if you can, if you can find the strength to quit, or cut back, so you can be there for your own kids, believe me, they’ll appreciate it.

Dear City of Kansas City:

We are in the GRIPS of yet another winter storm (9″ of snow forecast for the area), and based on the pandelerium on the television news, we are all going to die. OK, strike that, we are just all going to be MISERABLE. My husband keeps shouting, “WHITE DEATH! WHITE DEATH!” every time Katie Horner comes on.

Yes, winter weather is serious stuff. As we saw last year, our general approach to the white stuff is “Meh, it’ll melt!” and we saw how well that didn’t work. Including last week’s snowpocalypse, which resulted in snow days and now we have streets that weren’t cleared well last week, packed down with large patches of ice, getting a new layer of snowfall today and tonight.  But really, the solution is pretty damned simple. Our mayor pledged we’d have more snowplowing this year, and I recognize it’s a costly expense (other cities recommend contracting for clearing by the inch, vs. by time, it’s amazing how much faster it gets done…) and I think we need to take it one step further.

We need Snow Emergency rules. I lived with them for five years in Minneapolis, and it is remarkably efficient. The city has to declare a Snow Emergency by a fixed time (it’s 6 pm there), and that is The Beginning of Teh Rulez. In this day and age with internet and mobile, it’s even EASIER. Trust me. I can’t tell you how many times we’d ask each other, “OK, what day is it?” because rules apply by day and how you can park on the city streets. And for those without a garage or off-street parking, don’t panic. It works. I only had my own parking space for a year, and all the other years, I was bright enough to consult a calendar, determine odd house numbers from even, and know which side of the street to park on. So here’s how it works in Minneapolis, where, I think, we can all agree: they know snow.

Snow Emergency Declared, 6pm. From 9 pm to 8 am the next day, no parking on “Snow Emergency Routes”. These would be the biggest main streets in the city. All side streets allow parking on either side.

Day 2, 8am-8pm – no parking on EVEN-NUMBERED sides of the streets. You can park on the odd-numbered side, and on either sides of the Emergency Routes. (God bless ’em, Minneapolis even has a web page to HELP YOU DETERMINE what side of the street is even or odd.) After a street is fully plowed, you may park there (even if it’s still before 8pm.)

Day 3, 8am-8pm – Guess what. Now you move your car to the other side of the street, the EVEN side. If you were smart, you did this the night before after the street got plowed, so you don’t wake up in a panic screaming “OMFG what time IS IT and did I MOVE the car????”  (Why no, I never did that, what do you mean?)

Now, I also know we don’t have the elite Black Ops of Snow Removal here in the city. It might even require an extra day or two for our Snow Emergency Time Frame to allow total street clearing. But I can tell you this: it would solve the issue of our side streets getting plowed in a half-assed manner or not at all. My BFF’s street can barely allow a car down it because people are parking on both sides, let alone a snowplow. So now they’re completely ice-packed, treacherous, and who knows when it will all melt.  And I think we’ve had a couple winters now that show we do need some sort of actionable plan. Yeah, people will bitch. But they’ll bitch anyway, about the roads, about the snow, whatever. Grow up, grab your balls, and force yourself to pay attention for a few days for the greater good.

And if you really wanna rebel and don’t follow the rules, it means you get a ticket and possibly towed – revenue generated for the city. Win fucking Win.

Any mayoral candidate who seizes on this concept and incorporates it into their platform will have my vote!  Well….maybe. I did fall for the no-more-steel-plates platform, and that cost us a lot of moolah in racial slur settlements.  Probably enough to have bought us a couple more snowplows.

Handy Life Advice

You know how they say you shouldn’t go to the grocery store hungry? Well, take it from me, you shouldn’t go when you’re tired, either.

Last night, at about 10:55 pm, I realized that almost all the things on my list were from the big four-day “10-for$10” sale that was ending in an hour and five minutes, and I had a choice: skip shopping altogether, or suck it up and go right away. I decided to suck it up, threw on my coat (no, not over my pajamas, I was fully dressed!) and headed out.

When you grocery-shop-tired, you don’t impulse-buy salty snacks and ding-dongs. In fact, you stick to your list like a crazy, obedient zombie. The store is almost desolate, except for all the shelf-stockers. (Note to those who ignore my advice and do this at some point: make sure you have your list, as all the signs for the sale items are down well before midnight!)  My big goal, the ground turkey, was still well-stocked, and I loaded up my cart, pleased with all my savings. I even bought a bottle of honey bourbon, wondering if it was possible to buy liquor that late on a Sunday. (It is. It’s Missouri!)

When you’re tired, you make choices about what you might leave in the car in the garage. Potato chips, for instance. Minimize the number of bags that have to go in. And I can guaran-damn-tee you that of all the bags you grab, the one you won’t have a good grip on? Will be that fucking bottle of bourbon, and as it falls, your brain wonders if it’s the bag with the can of pineapple juice, or is it the bag with the dish soap and then your ears tell your brain the sound was glass, and your nose tells your brain that the garage now smells like a saloon. And you’ll see all those savings from the ground turkey smashed on the cement floor, spreading under the car and it’s 11:30 at night and all you want to do is go to bed. So you’ll try to get all the glass, and put down a bunch of paper towels and grumpily put yourself to bed, knowing what awaits in the morning.

Cleanup, aisle 10!

Wut?

I was so focused after my lunch meeting, I auto-piloted right on past Aldi’s, where I wanted to pick up some olive oil. (We’re making duck confit at the NuWo household. FANCY!) So I pulled in to the ghetto Price Chopper, which is fine for quick trips. They are not an expansive store, by any stretch.

Grabbed the oil and a couple other things and went to checkout. The cashier said something I couldn’t understand, so I looked up, smiled and said, “What?”

She said, “You know, for those pouch things you wear around your waist.”

My smile kinda froze. First of all, it’s a fanny pack, I’ve never worn one, and …WTF? Did I just plummet to earth into someone else’s body and we’re having a conversation about how to travel in Europe as Ugly Americans?

I kind of half-nodded, smile frozen, my lips sticking to my teeth as the air dried them….and uttered a very non-committal “OooOohuh,” as I am rapidly hitting all the buttons on the pay station so I can sign my name and be done.

“Good for when we take our dog hiking, you know, down by the river, we do that when it snows.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m dealing with The Girl Who Slipped Through Screening, and I’m just bobbing my head in an up-down-angle-side-to-side, lips frozen still in smile, and I’m trying to push the cart forward, grab my groceries and go, still making some sort of neutral “Ahhhhhhhh” sound.

I still have no idea what’s going on there, but I figured I’d at least blog it. I’m not sure if she was talking about the advantages of plastic bags? They fit in a fanny pack, and certainly would be handy when walking your dog down by the river.  Girlfriend needs to buy herself some segues, along with a few more sentences. Of course, any observer might have thought I was the crazy one, what with the demented smile, ooooohing and ahhhhing, nodding and bobbing like a boxer. They might be right.

Hello, Neighbor…

No, I’m not talking about Crazy Cat Lady, though she had her own personal  festival of lights last week, courtesy of the emergency-service vehicles lined up in front of her house. I’m just feeling very…. Mr. Rogers. Won’t you come in? I should put on a cardigan. (Actually, I really should, I’m kinda cold.)

Starting off 2011 very differently than I started 2010. For one thing, I’m unemployed again, as my part-time employer unceremoniously gave me the boot the day after Christmas weekend. Of course, I could have been surprised, but when you advertise for a junior buyer on internal job boards at a local agency, I’m connected enough to find out within fifteen minutes. (That happened on Dec 1, ironically, my one-year anniversary there.) I was given a nice platter of prevarications.  I tried to accept them at face value, but, frankly, there had been enough lies before that point (nothing like having to keep from the client you’re only part-time and they’ve been told you’re full time) to know that it was time for something new, shiny and distracting to take my place. I got in touch with one of my co-workers, and let him know what was going on – and warned him some of the things I’d seen and heard might mean he was next. Sure enough, he came back from vacation and got axed today. I told him when he called to just keep feeling the relief, of not having to sustain the impossible anymore.

So what does that mean for me? Well, I have some opportunities for freelancing, and I’ll certainly be pursuing them as much as I can. I’ll have unemployment for when that’s not active, and I’ll keep my health insurance current. I think what I learned from the last go-round is that when you feel like you’re losing your integrity, just by walking through a door, you may be losing a salary, but you’re starting the process of regaining so much more. I also learned that as much as I worried and fretted and stressed, it didn’t make one bit of difference. I feel a strange sense of calm, and assuredness, that is really rather surprising. I have great friends in the community, former colleagues, vendors and clients. And as my father said in the worst of times, it will all be ok. I’m glad I don’t own a business that is hemorrhaging money and worrying about if I’ll make payroll and what happens if one client leaves, will it all go under. One of these days, I’m going to write down all the sordid stories, and they will astonish you, children, they really will. The advertising biz tends to look a lot more Gordon Gecko and not so much Melrose Place.  (I remember my father asking me, “This business? Does it have any NICE people in it? It doesn’t seem like it does.” Yes, dad, plenty of nice people. Just not the most honorable, as some are merely glorified con artists.)

I may need to take up violin lessons, though, all my appointments for fiddling when Rome burns and whatnot. Heh.

Well, that’s all for today, kids. I’m going to enjoy my zen, while others chug the Maalox. It’s a new year, and I just have a feeling, it’s going to be one of my best.

xo

jen

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