Hey Big Spender!
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Environment | 9 Comments
Christie explores a modern dilemma: is time saved actually time well spent?
The whole idea started when I was standing at my kitchen sink washing a badly blistered finger and cursing enough to make Snoop Dog blush. I had spent 30 minutes yanking the pull rope on my gas mower. The grass grew another half-inch while I over-exerted myself, sweat stinging my eyes and puffs of blue-reeking smoke burning my lungs. Enough! Gas mowers are supposed to save you time and effort. I dragged the dying beast to the curb, wrote “FREE” on a piece of cardboard and went inside to clean my wounds. The truck pulled up while I was at the sink. Sayonara El Toro.
I was not quite prepared for the clothes dryer to give a screech and die. Shall I buy another? Or shall I try and do without another time-saving machine of post-modern living?
It was about this time that friends passed along a wonderful read, Drinking The Rain written by Alix Kates Shulman. Ms. Shulman writes about her life and of her self-imposed exile to an extremely basic Maine Coast cabin. After a particularly stressful and difficult visit to the local store for food supplies she muses on “saving time/time-saving.” Her muse visited me. If I am saving time, who and what am I saving it for? Can time actually be saved? If you have been following the progression of quantum physics from string to membrane (or brane) theory to parallel universes you know we could go a lot of places with these questions. Read more
Sex and Politics, the TV Show
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Politics | 7 Comments
The Debates: (L-R) Nick Clegg, David Cameron, Gordon Brown
From “Bigotgate” to shades of Kennedy/Nixon, Christie Healey gives the play-by-play on the recent UK elections
As I sat eating my breakfast this morning, I thought of Mr. Brown. Gordon Brown, a man whose brilliant background in accountancy could not save him from miscalculation of the odds. I imagined him at the 10 Downing Street breakfast table last Friday, the eviction notice hovering in his mind. He must have thought, “Where did I go wrong? He waited years for this gig, suffering in silence while Tony bounced all over the world like Tigger only to be given the old heave ho at the first opportunity.
The last two weeks of the adorably short UK general election campaign have been nothing less than stunning. The changes for Mr. Brown were foretold upon England’s foray into that most American of primetime shows, “The Debates”. Our brusque-toned dour Scot was pitted against the Liberal Democrats’ youthful and articulate leader, Nick Clegg, who puffed deep breaths of fresh air into the stale clichés of British politics. Even the Conservatives’ front man, an urbane and typically toffee-nosed type, managed to look like one of the stars of Mad Men compared to the rumpled, haggard Mr. B. Read more
Walking and Talking
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Politics, Relationships | 8 Comments
From Christie Healey’s perspective, going on foot could be just the cure for what ails us.
Its Saturday morning and the winter is coming to an end. Although here on the tundra we are wary of any irrational exuberance until May. The phone rang and I heard Heidi’s voice say, “Want to go for a walk?” I cannot think of anything I would rather do at this moment than join her and her beautiful sad-eyed dog Sara on a stroll around the Lake Como in the crystal sunshine.
My mum and dad would take a walk every Sunday afternoon. They talked quietly while my sister and I wandered along with them, playing make-believe games and seeing who could run the fastest. In the past few years I have become a walker again. There is singular joy in strolling along talking to my companions or, when I am alone, talking to myself. It seems as if walking frees the tongue and the mind. Difficult topics can be broached more easily; old hurts can be mended, secrets may be revealed, sadness might suddenly find release, and laughter often comes unexpectedly. Read more
Only When I Laugh
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Family, Parenting, Relationships | 7 Comments
For Christie Healey, time spent with relatives is just the ticket.
Many of us have recently spent time with our families over the holidays. Family has taken on a very broad meaning and I am blessed with a wonderful family of choice. But, for now I want to reflect upon those persons in our family that we had no choice of selection. Time spent with the relatives can be revealing, precious, stressful, hilarious, and restorative.
My former father-in-law comes to mind when I think of some of the adjectives I used above. He is an extraordinary person, a man of great persistence in certain areas. He loved golf. No, I mean he really loved golf. Practiced for over 50 years with no noticeable signs of improvement. He would swing a club in the apartment we shared whenever the obsession took over. Chips out of the concrete beam in the living room bear witness to his fervour. After some pleas, he agreed to use the “air” practice swing. One evening he was found lying on the floor in the bedroom. “What happened?” we cried. “I was going for distance,” he responded. Read more
Sweet Revenge
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Humor | 10 Comments
Christie Healey shares a holiday pick about a musician who turned a bad experience into a very popular video.
Dave Carroll adds new meaning to “sweet revenge”. This may not be everyone’s idea of an inspiring holiday video link, but it is mine, and I hope it makes you smile and sing along.
United Airlines broke Dave’s custom Taylor guitar and were not really sorry about it. During Dave’s final exchange with United Customer Relations, he said he had no alternative but to create a music video and post it on YouTube. The manager responded “Good Luck with that one pal.” After the video received almost 6 million hits and was featured on CNN, United contacted Dave and attempted settlement in exchange for pulling the video. And his response? “Good Luck with that one pal.”
A little bah humbug, but a lot of giggles too. A big Happy Holidays to all.
Turning Minnesotan
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey | 10 Comments
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
I Didn’t Go To Lunch That Day
Filed Under All Posts, Christie Healey, Media, Pop Culture | 9 Comments
1969 is known for Woodstock and “The Summer of Love,” but for Christie Healey, it was a special winter day when she was at the right place at the right time.
I was doing a little paintwork touch up around the house the other day, musing about my life and thinking how satisfying it can be to paint over things—chips, scratches, cracks, dust. NPR was playing in the background and I heard a review of Ang Lee’s new movie, Taking Woodstock. I don’t remember much about Woodstock. Not because I was there, I (unlike others of my generation) will emphatically state, I was not there. My defining music moment happened in January of 1969.
I was working in the marketing department of Tyne Tees Television, a commercial TV station that occupied the fifth floor of an office building on Savile Row, London near Regent Street. My boss, Oliver Trigg and his tall, handsome sidekick, John Finch, were off to the boozer for their usual lunch of a pint and some rib-sticking food. They asked if I wanted to join them. I was working on some magical marketing numbers that needed to be presented later that day and, reluctantly, said no. I settled down in Ollie’s office to study the most inventive fiction ever created by humankind, audience demographics, when I noticed some activity on the roof opposite. I opened the window and leaned out.
There was lots of musical equipment being set up, drum kit, amps, guitars on stands and mikes. A door to the roof slowly opened and some women drifted out and settled themselves off to one side. Good Lord, it was the Beatle women. Then the door opened again and the Beatle men appeared. By this time I am hanging out of the window about 30 feet above the opposite roof. The first chords struck and the Beatles launched into their last concert. Read more
