Cathy Fischer is wondering how a month dedicated to something so important, could have become so irritating.
I don’t know what irks me more, being accosted by Christmas ads before Halloween, or being hit by the big pink tsunami that is…BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH.
Dancing reindeer or pink teddy bears? I’ll take the caribou, thank you.
The brilliant Barbara Ehrenreich, also a breast cancer survivor, is passionate about pink. In her new book, Bright-sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America, she writes about how she’d rather get “hacked to death by a madman,” then suffocated by the “pink sticky sentiment” embodied by ribbon-wearing teddy bears.
I’ve noticed that I don’t’ wear pink very much. Not that pink doesn’t look good on me, it’s that I’ve had an aversion to the color ever since my diagnosis. A year ago, I voiced my not-so-rosy point of view in “My Big Pink Protest,” where I shared my dismay about October’s pinkness, and how threads of hypocrisy are woven throughout the fabric of many a “pink” product. These so-called charitable campaigns are about as authentic as a McDonald’s Shamrock Shake. Read more
After 15 years of marriage, and too many misplaced items to count, Prudence Baird insists her husband consider a new approach.
When I say I married a loser, I don’t mean that kind of loser. I’m talking about the kind of loser who loses things. Like keys, hats, sunglasses, cell phones, parking lot tickets, wedding rings—and most of all, wallets.
Like the clueless wife who finds that her husband has a gambling problem only after the repo man takes away the family Volvo, I found out that (let’s call him “Tim”) was a misplacer (nicer word, huh?) after we married. The first time it happened, I had no idea that this was merely Point A in an ever-lengthening trajectory that would arc across the time grid of our marriage.
I was in my home office churning out press releases when I heard the front door slam and heavy, frantic steps on the staircase. I emerged to see a man I didn’t recognize—a red-faced man, his salt-and-pepper askew; a man who hollered in my face: “My wallet is gone!” Read more
For Christie Healey, adapting to the Midwest brings a new approach to life’s challenges.
Garrison Keillor, the Upper Midwest’s patron saint of wit, created a hometown for himself called Lake Woebegon, Minnesota. As the name suggests, there will always be woe, but how we respond is the key to when it will be gone. People in this neck of the woods face life’s inconvenient onslaughts with equanimity and acceptance. Former wrestler for governor? Well now he may have some good ideas, we’ll give him a chance. Massive influx of immigrants from Cambodia, Ethiopia, Somalia? Oh well, they’ve got to have somewhere to live. Message: don’t panic it may turn out alright.
There are many things to dismay a single woman in this world, but walking across your fully-carpeted basement family room and getting your feet wet is way up there for me. First reaction: denial. Must have donned wet house socks when I got up this morning and only just noticed. Second reaction: Hmmm. I commenced research into the problem. The long and winding road of discovery included: 1. Accusing Frankie (the cat) of being really, really, really naughty. 2. Chimney seal failure. My good friend and marvelous boss, Dan, came over, walked all over the roof and climbed up into my dusty attic. 3. Ripping up sodden carpet and thick wet underlay. Read more
For Connie Stetson, accompanying her actor husband to New York City was all glitz, glamour and excitement, but coming home was a true revelation.
Hi all—the lovely Mrs. Stetson here.
Lee and I had a perfectly wonderful trip to New York City enjoying the many sights (our hotel was right in the shadow of the Empire State Building) and sounds (does the horn honking never stop?) and smells (ahhh, the smell of falafel in the air….) We hit the ground running our first night there and had a great Turkish dinner with my dear old friends, Barbara and Jim. Day two we set off walking, did some shopping, and then readied for our black-tie gala celebrating the premiere of Ken Burns’ The National Parks—America’s Best Idea on Ellis Island.
I showed up quite glamorous in my black satin trousers, white tuxedo shirt, stiletto strappy sandals, Cathy’s fabulous black and white embroidered shawl and oodles of pretty great looking faux pearls, and except for the satin, the shawl, pearls and stiletto’s that’s what Lee wore too (the lucky, cuz’ my feet were killing me!!). He looked mah-velous, darlings. We sat at the muckymuck table with Ken Burns, Dayton Dalton, Shelton Johnson, Gerard Baker and their lovely Missesses, Roxann and Mary Kay. We enjoyed our desserts to a live performance of Alison Krauss and Union Station. Pretty darn good. Read more