Things to do during the writers' strike

Well, the Writers Guild of America strike has finally started to take its toll on TV-philes. Favorite shows are segueing into reruns and promised programming will be delayed. What's a body to do? Surprisingly, a lot.

Here's my list of 13 things to do during this unrequested, but ultimately highly beneficial, TV hiatus:

1) Read a book.
2) Have a conversation with someone about something other than what happened last night on TV.
3) Get on the web and research the presidential candidates. Decide for yourself who to vote for.
4) Use an hour of your daily TV time to cook good, healthful meals.
5) Go outdoors.
6) Exercise.
7) Talk with your children, your parents, your siblings, your neighbors -- anyone you like. After all, you now have the time!
8) Teach your old dog a new trick. If you have a cat, try to teach it a trick... then experience American hospitals' ER system firsthand.
9) Spend a half hour of your daily TV time listening to a foreign language lesson. (There are oodles on iTunes, including several free language lesson podcasts.)
10) Start a hobby. (Want to learn to play a musical instrument? Guess what? There are dozens of free lessons on YouTube.)
11) Volunteer. (Yes, having no TV is a bummer. Guess what? It could be a lot worse. Don't believe me? Visit a cancer ward or volunteer with hospice. That's an eye-opener.)
12) Pick one of the things on your Gee, I wish I'd done that list -- and do it!
13) Most importantly, don't automatically make room for TV when new programs start to appear. If TV fits in with your new schedule, great. If not, it's probably not a huge loss.

That's my list. Any ideas from anyone else?

Beginnings and endings...

It's hard to believe that it's been almost a month since I posted last. (Thanks very much to all those who emailed to ask what was going on.)

It's been a time of beginnings and endings.

A few weeks ago, I went to the funeral of a childhood friend. She died at 42, yet left a legacy that was staggering. Her funeral was held in small, inner city church on an unbelievably hot morning. On a good day, that church could hold, perhaps, 200 people comfortably. On this day, there were well over 300. The lower level of full; the balcony was packed.

People from all walks of life, and ranging in age from a few weeks to more than 90 years, attended. Unmarried and without children of her own, my childhood friend touched more lives than I can even imagine. She was the director of admissions for a local college and dozens of current students, aspiring students and college graduates joined family, friends and work colleagues to say to good-bye. It was an awesome testament to the value of having a purpose in life and fulfilling it.

Prior to this, I never really understood what people meant when they said a funeral could be inspiring.

Now I do.

Anyway, that was ending I mentioned earlier. Now for the beginning.

You've probably heard the term, sandwich generation. If not, it describes baby boomers who juggle both childcare and elder care. Since I don't have children, I guess I'm an open-face sandwich.

The past few weeks have seen the beginning of a lot of heavy lifting with elder care. My mother now requires a great deal of supervision. Whether this is the result of age-related cognitive problems, a small stroke or the beginning of Alzheimer's, I don't know. What I do know is that I've started the dance of monitoring a host of medications, removing the option to drive, finding small tasks to keep her occupied, and other tasks many of you have likely dealt with for a long, long time.

If you have advice or suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

Does this man EVER sleep?

I asked this question of a friend of mine. Tyler Perry's latest movie is coming out in late August. Now let's see, he's written -- what? -- four movies, a dozen or so plays, a book, a sitcom pilot and several scripts for a television show...and I'm still plugging away on my first novel!

Jokes aside, Perry is a testament to what can be done when one is focused. Bravo!

How much are you carrying?

I was looking for a computer cable the other day. When I couldn't find it in the disaster that is my home office, I asked my husband, SOHM*, if he knew where it might be.

He suggested I look in the storage rooms in our basement. There I found bags (and I do mean lawn-size Hefty bags) full of cables: Computer cables. Camera cables. Scanner cables. Printer cables. Cables to equipment we don't have anymore. Cables to equipment that doesn't work. Cables to equipment made by companies that no longer exist. (Does anyone out there remember the Commodore 64 computer, circa 1980? If you happen to own one, let me know. I've got a cable.)

"Why," I asked SOHM, "do we have all this stuff?"

"Because," he said, never turning from the TV, "you never throw anything away."

Oh. Once I realized it was all my fault I scampered off, grabbed a cookie, retreated to the sanctuary of my all-in-one home office/home spa/dressing room/media room/girlie library/dog zone and turned on my newly cabled PC.

As fate would have it, I found a link to 1000 Days Non-Stop at Sea. For reasons I honestly can't wrap my brain around, Reid Stowe and Soanya Ahmad are trying to set a new sailing record for consecutive days at sea without stopping or resupply.

One thousand days on a little boat with the same person and no diversionary shopping excursions or mind-stabilizing chic flicks? I truly don't get it -- but I do admire their chutzpah.

For a different perspective on lessening your load, read Soanya's August 5th entry. Can you imagine going three months without restocking your refrigerator or pantry -- and then adding only those items you'd stored in other parts of your house? (And yes, this does include toiletries.)

Can you imagine being awestruck by a new supply of dried ziti or beans?

The adventure fairy didn't visit after I read Soanya and Reid's blog, but the declutter genie did pay another call. I may never get to the point of downsizing to the point of these seafaring bloggers, but I am willing to dump more of my rarely used stuff.

Cables, anyone?


*SOHM: Significant Other Hubby Man

Guilty pleasure

Design Star on HGTV is my closet addiction. Each episode of the interior design challenge reality show is like an ice cream sundae for the mind.

My favorite contestant this season is Josh "Sparkle Josh" Johnson, an extremely talented, inexhaustibly cheerful designer from Hendersonville, Tennessee.

Here are a few quips from his contestant profile:

If I weren't a designer, I'd be: A Solid Gold dancer

Something you'd never guess about me: I was once a probation officer

Childhood dream: Flying Wonder Woman's invisible jet

Usual skills: Clogging

If my life were a sitcom, it would be: Moesha

Why I should win: Because America is ready for the "Josh Johnson Experience"

Some people say they love life; others show that they do. Sparkle Josh is clearly one of the latter. No matter what my mood is initially, after an hour of watching him, I am too.

Obesity: It's not what you think

For years, the concept of losing weight and getting fit was a pleasant pastime -- lose a few pounds, get into those cute pants; firm up a bit, don't scare myself when I catch a rear-end view in a dressing room three-way mirror.

You get the picture, right?

The other day, for reasons I still haven't figured out, I dusted off my super-dooper Sharper Image scale (it measures weight and calculates percent of body fat) and hopped on. The results left me shocked -- and not in a good way.

I'm still roughly 20 pounds overweight, though you probably couldn't tell that by looking at me. I'm also, and this is the scary part, 37 percent body fat. For someone with a family history of diabetes, hypertension and heart disease, this is not welcome news.

Phillip Whitten, a writer for Swimming World Magazine, says obesity is defined as too much body fat, not necessarily too much weight. Translation: you can be thin and fat simultaneously.

According to one of his articles, men should have 15 percent body fat or less and women should have 22 percent body fat or less during their prime. There's not much wiggle room for boomers, either. Whitten says 55-year-old men who exercise regularly generally have body fat levels of 23 percent; hearty women exercisers have body fat levels of 29 percent at the same age.

Our nation of couch potatoes aren't faring well, however. Whitten writes, "According to 1994 health statistics, at age 35, the average American male carries 25 percent of his weight in fat, average female 33 percent (the numbers are probably even higher today.)"

I'll be honest. I'd hoped there'd be great dissent about how much body fat is healthy. (You've seen those weight charts. They're all over the map.) Alas, it was not to be. There is some deviation, certainly, but overall, not that much.

Why this matters:

If, like me, you have writing projects you're trying to finish or other goals you'd like to complete, and you just can't seem to make progress, if may be because your body -- and your brain -- are under stress from other sources. Becoming more fit may be just what you need to do to get going.

Intrigued? Here are a couple of sites you can visit to see where you fall on the health-o-meter:

Recommended Body Weights and Percent Body Fat Contents for Women

Sports Fitness Advisor

Playing on iTunes right now: Authors on Tour featuring Allan Folsom, author of The Machiavelli Covenant. Authors on Tour is a podcast of writers discussing and reading from their works at The Tattered Cover bookstore in Denver. Sign up on iTunes.

When the mind wanders, it's not pretty...

I could be writing. Yes indeedy, I could...and I was. Then I took little break and wandered over to Kathy Holmes site. There I found a link to Shelfari, an online networking site for readers and writers.

Of course I had to go. I explored the site for a while -- loved it! -- then I started reading some of the profiles of frequent contributors. One had a link to a website that lets you take a test to determine your chances of surviving a zombie invasion. Wow!

I had to take the test, right?

Then I had to take it again because I could not believe how badly I fared.

I did a bit better the second time, though apparently there's an unwritten rule that says you shouldn't go to Walmart when zombies prowl.

After a couple, er, a few more attempts, it eventually occurred to me that a Zombie Apocalypse Test (ZAT) is not wholly dissimilar to a Scholastic Achievement Test (SAT). You just keep taking it and taking it until you (or your parents) like your score.

My final score: 41% chance of survival.

All of which makes me think I'm probably better off writing.


Ciao!

Online tag!

I've been tagged by author Tayari Jones. Here are the rules:

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they've been tagged, and to read your blog.

Here are eight, no-longer-secret facts about the very merry me:

1. I have the most eclectic taste in music of anyone I know. The last seven songs on my iPod were by Leann Rimes, John Legend, Vargo, The Mamas & The Papas, Michael Buble, John Mellencamp and Donnie McClurklin.
2. As a girl I dreamed of being a singer-dancer-actress-model. Or a brain surgeon. Upon reflection, I realized success was unlikely as a) I'm a little, um, tone deaf; b) I have no natural sense of rhythm; c) I don't like being on stage; d) I like to eat; e) Medical science involves science. And math! Eww!
3. I'm horribly needle-phobic.
4. I once flew to Austin for a Bruce Springsteen concert. I loved it!
5. I'm conflict adverse and miss a lot because there are many things I don't want to see...yet I have a real fear of going blind.
6. I once ate an entire German Chocolate cake. By myself. In one sitting. That was not a good idea.
7. When I was young and impressionable someone told me that if you die without fulfilling your destiny you have to keep coming back until you get it right. I still believe that.
8. When I mangle song lyrics, I do it in a big, big way. (Yet another reason a career as a singer was not for me.) For years, I happily sang along to Stevie Wonder's hit, Blue Me On. Yea Cumin! (known to some of you as Boogie On Reggae Woman). I kept this up until someone pointed out this was not a song about food dye and recipes.

Whew! There you are.

I've tagged Kathy Holmes and Rhea, but I need a bit of time to come up with others. Tune in later for details or comment if you'd like to play.

I've been SO off the grid!

My husband decided to "optimize" our Internet connection last week.

'Nuff said?

Methinks so.

Playing on iTunes right now: I Know the Truth by Sherie Rene Scott (Amneris) from the original cast recording of the Aida soundtrack.

The things we do to torture ourselves...

I love Sharper Image. Really. But sometimes even I have to admit that its products can be a little...bizarre.

A few weeks ago, my husband (aka: Spouse Unit Hubby Man, aka: SUHM) and I were trolling through SI's personal care section. SUHM picked up a nifty, little device and studied it.

"What the heck is this?" he asked.

I scanned the label. "Home electrolysis kit."

"You mean electrocution."

"Nooo," I said patiently. "I mean e-lec-trol-y-sis. Sis. Sisssss."

SUHM, a chemist by training and organizational safety specialist by trade, didn't get it. He held up a flat, white pad (upper lip size). The pad was tethered to something that looked like a joystick by a thin, pale wire.

"Conduction mechanism. Current source," SUHM said. "E-lec-tro-cu-tion. Zzzzap!" He poked me. "Remember that other thing you got here? The Hair Ripper?"

I shuddered. The device he mentioned was like a little, personal lawnmower for unwanted hair. Manufactures promised it would glide easily over the skin, plucking hair strand by strand, and would be no more painful than an eyebrow tweeze.

SUHM laughed. "Remember when you tried to give yourself a bikini..."

I elbowed him. Of course I remembered! Everyone in a six-mile radius of our home probably remembered. That &@#$! Hair Ripper hurt!

Behind us, a man snorted. A nearby sales clerk sighed. Clearly, the mini-home electrolysis kit was not going home with me.

Well...at least not tonight.

Playing on iTunes: Imagine Me by Kirk Franklin.

Viagra and hamsters

Viagra helps hamsters overcome jet-lag from westbound flights.

I mean, seriously...

Seriously.

Playing on iTunes: Whenever You're Ready by Mary Chapin Carpenter.