Monkey Shines

Just Another Friday Night In The ‘Hood

Donna — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 11:34:15 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds Today: 07/19/10 206 pounds

Loss: 42 pounds in 68 days Attitude: Strong.

The story of Friday night actually goes back a week.

Tim who is the wonderful grandson my friends, Maryanne and Kennon, had agreed to help me with some chores around the house – one of which was to power wash some mildew from the house. Early that morning, I had planned to head to the laundromat with a load of soiled dog bed sheets courtesy of my older dog, Sandy, who, to put it delicately, can’t hold her own very well any longer. When I realized that the World Cup finals were on in the afternoon, I decided to wait until then since there would surely be less people at the laundromat.

Tim showed up around 10am. We hauled the power washer out front, hooked it up, turned it on and watched it sputter and die. While Tim busied himself with some other chores, I grabbed my keys to head to the store to buy another power washer. Houston heat is miserable this time of year. Imagine a closed car with a load of smelly sheets with an interior temperature of about 120 degrees. Needless to say, I drove to Wal-Mart with my head hanging outside the window. I bought the new power washer, headed home, resting my cheek on the side mirrors.

Tim hooked it all up and did a smashing job rinsing the grime from my house. When he was done, he put everything away and handed me the instruction manual which I promptly threw away. I blame my father for this. I read instruction manuals for years because, when I was 12, my sister and I each received cameras for Christmas but were not allowed to use them until we read the manuals. Years later, Susan and I bought my Dad a camera and he refuse to read the manual. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose!

So, this past Friday night, I decided I wanted to power wash the front porch and sidewalk. I fed the dogs this new gourmet dog chow that was on sale at Krogers, let them out for a bit then back into the house. I hauled the power washer out front, hooked up the hose and the electrical cords and revved it up. After a few trials and errors, I got it cooking. Power washers are incredible machines. One swipe and dirt is blasted away. It’s a lovely mind-numbing chore, head down, concentrating on each little square of the stamped concrete.

Suddenly, behind me, there was a monstrous blast. My immediate thought was that I should have read the damned instructions and had now blown up the power washer. When I turned to look, there was an Chevy Blazer engulfed in flames on the street in front of my neighbor’s house. You know how you see cars on fire on the side of the road sometimes – smoke bellowing from under the hood? This was different. This SUV looked like something from the movies. The flames were blazing so thick, I could not see inside the car. They reached up so high, they were licking the pecan tree branches above them. Within seconds, parts of the car started exploding – windows blasted out, tires blew, the radiator hissed and screamed.

Is someone in the car? Dear God, please don’t let there be anyone in the car. Are there kids strapped in the backseat? Where is the driver? Where are the neighbors? Call 911! Someone call 911! It was eerily silent on the street except for the sound of fire.

My heart was pounding. All I had was my power washer and a long hose. I quickly disconnected the hose from the power washer, then pulled it as close as I could get which was only a couple of feet into my neighbor’s yard. At that point, I noticed there were dead tree limbs piled next to the SUV which were catching fire. My measly hose was no match for the fire but if it crept any closer, maybe I could keep the flames from spreading.

Within minutes, an ambulance screamed down the street, followed by a fire truck. I dropped the hose and moved a little closer, still afraid of what I might see inside the car. The fire was still huge. I could see the metal outlines of the car seats. The roof was gone, metal burned and peeled back.

The firetruck hooked up to the fire hydrant, which was no more than ten feet away, and blasted the SUV with water. When the water hit, more car parts exploded. It took at least 30 minutes for the fire to be put out. The firemen had to use an axe and some other massive tool to pry open the hood to get to the engine which was blazing. Scary, scary stuff.

As I was standing there, mouth agape, one of the fireman came over to talk to me. I told him that I saw nothing until after the car was on fire. I asked him about the driver. He said someone saw him get out of the car, but that no one knew where he had gone. By this time, some of the neighbors had wandered over. One neighbor from down the street thought he recognized the car but wasn’t sure to whom it belonged.

Once the fire was out, I headed back to my chores. I hooked up the power washer again and started on the sidewalk. A young policeman came over to me and explained that he would have to stay there until the truck was towed off and asked if he could please use my restroom? I felt like an idiot when I told him no. I explained that my dogs are crazy and that they think that all men in uniform are the mailman, the most hated man on the planet in their world. I sent him over to the neighbor’s house.

After a while, another man walked over to me. He looked like an investigator. He asked me what I had witnessed. I told him that the SUV was not there when I got home and was not there when I started washing the porch. I asked him about the driver. He said the car was not from this part of town and that all anyone saw was someone in a brown shirt exit the car before it blew up.

I asked him what might cause a car to blow up like that. He said, “That was no accident. There was something in the front passenger seat set to explode.” Holy cow. Arson? On my street?

After he wandered off, I finished as much as I could before the sun went down, then put away all my tools. When I stepped back into the kitchen, it looked as if a bomb had gone off inside the house. There were poopy footprints everywhere. It looked as if both dogs had danced in poop all over the house. It actually looked as if they had gone back to reload. Can you imagine if I had let the policeman in the house to go to the bathroom? Good Lord.

I kicked the canines into the backyard and, on my hands and knees, washed the floors from one end of the house to the other. They are never getting that gourmet dog food again! By the time I was done, I was worn out. Just another Friday night in the ‘hood!

Great Expectations

Donna — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 11:25:16 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds Today: 06/04/10 227.2 pounds

Loss: 20.6 pounds in 22 days Attitude: Optimistic.

I arrived home Tuesday night after a long weekend in Fort Worth. I spent the weekend there with my entire family – my parents, my four siblings and their spouses and an even assortment of ten nieces and nephews. We celebrated my nephew Alex Krus’ graduation from Texas Tech where he received a BFA in Theatre with a specialty in Acting.

Alex - The Actor

When Alex was in high school, he surprised us all when he decided to migrate from a behind-the-scenes worker in school plays to a performer. The biggest surprise was that he could sing – and sing on key.

My whole family loves to sing but, in general, we are vocally challenged. I remember going to mass as a kid and watching people turn to look at us when my Dad would belt out a hymn in his deep, rumbling voice. Dad’s voice is so deep that I once heard his signature tremor as he was leaving a message on an answering machine – I was outside of the house. Mom sings at the drop of a hat. She may be the only one in the family, other than Alex, who can really hold a tune. One of my earliest memories is Mom teaching my sister Susan and I to sing “Daisy, Daisy” and “I’m Looking Over A Four Leaf Clover” while we were taking a bath. My sisters and I used to sing while doing the dishes every night. We would sing the score to “Hair” especially “Frank Mills”. We would sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”, which always got a “Would you girls shut up!” from my Dad who was trying to watch the news. I have a reputation for singing “Me and Bobby McGee” after a bit of tequila. I know I am a lousy singer. I was blessed with a loud but off-key singing voice. It hasn’t shut me up yet.

So, my nephew Alex… the actor. Some of my friends may remember Alex as a little nine year old kid at the first Houston Trivia Bash. He was every where, talking up my friends, offering people drinks, being entertaining even then. Alex has never met a stranger. Years ago, on one particularly cold Easter weekend, we went to a ballgame in Atlanta. We were all freezing our canoodles off. Alex disappeared. His mother found him in a club house with a group of strangers enjoying their buffet and making friends.

Alex’s acting career in college was highly successful. He scored big parts as a freshman which, from what I understand, was unusual. Among others, he has been Duke Solinus in “A Comedy Of Errors”, Tom in “The Time of Your Life”, Stanley in “Death of a Salesman”, and Dave in “The Full Monty”. Most recently, he played James Leeds in “Children of a Lesser God” with the Lubbock Community Theater and Oscar Shapiro in “Curtains”. He does sound design and lighting design. Alex’s plan is to work in Fort Worth this summer and save money so he can head to the bright lights of Chicago to pursue an acting career.

If you know someone who is looking for a bright, witty, talented actor and singer, hit me up for his resume. His star is on the rise!

Donna

The Joy of Fiber

Donna — Tue, 25 May 2010 02:58:02 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds Today: 05/24/10 232.6 pounds

Loss: 15.4 pounds in 12 days Attitude: Cranky.

So, this weekend, I was putzing around the house. A little cleaning…a little reading…a lot of water drinking.. At some point, I noticed that I had a bit of an ache in my side. Also, I was feeling a bit bloated. After a while, when it didn’t go away, I started poking about and found my ribs. Interesting! I hadn’t felt them in a while. A few years ago, after I had a lost a bunch of weight, I was in the shower washing myself and found a tumor on my side. Then I found another and another. It took me a while to realize it was just my ribs. This time, I was not so easily fooled. It took me until Sunday to realize the source of my problem.

When I started this diet, the nurses advised me that I would need to start taking fiber supplements. I laughed at them. I am a FEIL, after all. Some families have musical talents. Some families are adventurers. My family’s talent is that we are regular. Not to get too detailed about it but you could set a clock by the time the Feil toilets flush.

So, Sunday afternoon, after realizing that my system wasn’t um… regular, I headed to the drug store to buy a fiber supplement. Judging from the choices in the Laxative aisle (not my word – there was a SIGN), the entire world suffers from irregularity. There must have been 40 different options. Just the Metamucil alone came in three flavors – orange, lemon and strawberry/kiwi. You could have regular or sugar- free. You could have smooth or crunchy. There were tablets, liquids and concentrate. I must have stood there for 15 minutes, reading labels and mulling my choices.

I finally decided on Original Konsyl Natural Fiber Supplement – 100% natural psyllium hydrophilic mucilloid. Sounds impressive, right? It is “Doctor Recommended for Over 45 Years”, says the label. The only warning on it is this: “Taking this product without adequate fluid may cause it to swell and block your throat or esophagus and may cause choking.” Lovely.

At home, I read the directions on the label – one heaping teaspoon for 8 ounces of water. It looked like I was mixing dried grass particles into the water. Just as I took my first sip, which was nasty-tasting, my dog Sandy slipped and fell. She is old and losing her strength in her rear legs. She landed in an awkward positions that looked painful, so I immediately leaped to her rescue. By the time I got back to the kitchen, my glass of water had transformed into this mucous-like substance – actually, more the consistency of gooey applesauce. No way am I drinking that by itself… I added some sugar free strawberry/kiwi crystals, mixed it up and gulped it downed. Then I waited. And waited.

Am I the only one who stands in front of the microwave and taps my foot impatiently? No patience here, that’s for sure. I read the bottle again. “To aid product action, take 1-3 times a day.” Who thought up that line? “Product action”? I envisioned a room of advertising gurus tossing about possible phrases.. “successful transmissions?” no… “expected results?”… nah… “product action?” …Yes! That’s the one!

There is no way I am taking this stuff 3 times a day. I’d rather not go at all. I am cranky. 15 pounds less cranky than I was 2 weeks ago, but cranky just the same.

Floating in the Water

Donna — Fri, 21 May 2010 00:21:30 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds

Today: 05/20/10 235 pounds

Attitude: Full.

If I could change one thing about my past, it would be my attitude toward water.

Donna:Water - Before

I could never stand to drink much plain water unless it was hot as hell outside and I was burning up. Every so often, I would make a deal with myself to drink more water.

I bought a Brita.

I bought bottled water.

I bought flexi-straws.

It was no use. I would pour a glass of water and then it would sit there.

On this new diet, I must drink 120 ounces of water a day. That is two ounces for every pound that I weigh. Only 32 ounces of this total can be flavored – like Crystal Light or decaffeinated coffee, tea or soda.

My water bottles holds 16 ounces. That means I have to drink.. um.. 16 guzinta 120 … carry the one…. open Excel… 7.5 bottles of water a day.

When I first started the program, I thought it was going to take all day and into the night to drink all that water. Now that I have been doing this a week, I polish off the first two bottles before I take a shower. I am usually finished with my water intake by about 4PM. I am now exceeding the recommended intake.

The difference is this: I am not hungry.

Donna:Water - After

The other difference is this: Suddenly, I recognize the difference between hunger and thirst. Oh! Laugh all you want, you skinny people. This is a huge thing (no pun intended) for fat people. For years, I have shoved food in my mouth to satisfy thirst. Now, I am thirsty and I drink. ::slapping my forehead::: As my Grampa used to say, “Too soon old, too late smart”.

It took a couple of days for my body to get used to the extra liquids so that I am not constantly beating a path to the restroom. There are other side effects as well – my skin is less dry, I don’t feel so sluggish and some scars have started disappearing faster.

So there you have it. 9 days into it. 13 pounds gone. Feeling great!

Day 6 – 10 Down, 110 to Go

Donna — Tue, 18 May 2010 01:11:32 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds

Today: 05/17/10 238 pounds

Attitude: Pretty good.

Ten pounds down! I feel like the Wicked Witch being hit by water - I’m melting!

I spent yesterday afternoon with Jane’s grandchildren. Sasha is in kindergarden (grade zero, if you ask her) and Cassandra is nine years old. Both of these girls are amazingly intelligent and have massive vocabularies.

Cassandra and Jane - August 2008

Sasha - August 2008

I babysat girls while Jane went to a funeral and their parents went to a fashion show. We hung around Jane’s house for a bit, then went to McDonald’s for supper.

Here is what I learned:

If a kid says the food is too hot, they might mean it is too spicy. (Sasha)

It’s better to dip french fries and chicken nuggets in caramel sauce made for apples than to dip the apples in the sauce. (Cassandra)

There is a disease men get that women don’t get and it is advertised on TV and it makes them go to the bathroom a lot. (Sasha)

When you order at McDonalds, you have to take your tray to your seat and wait for them to call you to come and pick up your food. (Cassandra)

Animal documentaries are boring if they are only about one animal. (Sasha)

The playground at the McDonalds is “vile” (her words) and there is graffiti inside the tunnels. (Cassandra)

When kids at school pick on you, they shouldn’t have been born. (Sasha)

I can watch other people eat food and not attack them. (Donna)

My first doctor’s meeting and weigh-in is tomorrow.

Day 4 – Revelations

Donna — Sun, 16 May 2010 00:17:30 +0000

This is my pantry after being swept clean of anything edible.

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds

Today: 05/15/10 241 pounds

Attitude: Surprised.

Some things I have discovered since I started this diet:

1) I usually spend most of Saturday writing a trivia game which is run in Egghead Trivia on AOL on Saturday nights at 9PM Central. (plug!) While I sit at the computer, I can see my TV which is in the bedroom. On Saturdays, I leave the TV on PBS all day and keep an eye on the bead show, then the sewing shows, then the cooking shows, then This Old House. The cooking shows were tough to watch today. Everything looked wonderful, especially this three layer chocolate cake with pudding between the layers.

2) I cleaned out my cupboards and loaded most of it for Jane’s house. I had a LOT of expired food. How could I have food that had expired four years ago? When did I buy instant oatmeal? Where did the ginger chutney come from? I took a picture of the last apple and pears I am mourning not having eaten and another of the empty cupboard.

Two Beautiful Boscs and a Loverly Red Delicious

3) My kitchen is going to lie fallow for a while. I’m going to have to remember to run the dishwasher just to keep it operating. The stove has never gotten much use anyway. I wonder if I should just pull it out and replace it with a bookshelf? I need more room for books. The refrigerator now contains only bottled water, 2 boxes of Velveeta cheese (for giving the dogs their pills) and 2 bottles of insulin for my dog, Mel.

4) I cheated on my diet today. I am only allowed to have black decaffeinated coffee. I LOVE coffee. I HATE black coffee. It’s been bothering me for three days. I even tried putting some of the liquid diet in my coffee with disasterous results. So, this morning, instead of feeling deprived, I put a tablespoon of sugar-free hazelnut flavored creamer in my coffee. I felt like a rebel.

5) Drinking a lot of water is not as hard as I have thought it would be. I have resisted for years. I am refilling the plastic bottles with filtered water from the tap. I have easily exceeded the 120 ounce requirement for the last two days. Had I forced myself to drink water before, I might have saved a small fortune on this diet plan.

6) Losing weight fast sure makes you stay on track. Four days in and I was down 7 pounds this morning. Any twinge of hunger has been met with the idea that tomorrow I could be even lighter.

7) The support of friends and family means more than anything. Thank you all for your kind words.

Donna

Day 3 – Three Pounds Gone

Donna — Fri, 14 May 2010 23:06:21 +0000

Start date: 05/12/10 248 pounds Today: 05/14/10 245 pounds Attitude: Cranky but making it

After three days of dieting, my two day old headache is almost gone. The dieting part has been fairly easy. I have managed to down 120 ounces of water for three days straight. Today, I am already at about 140 ounces and still drinking. This diet causes ketosis which draws the fluids out of cell structure. Replenishing fluids is key.

The drink mixes aren’t bad. There are about 20 flavors, but I could only buy four boxes at a time. Who ever dreamed up this diet was pretty smart. My four pack for the week include 2 drinks that are the consistency of milk, one that is to be consumed hot and is thick like cream soup and one that is like chocolate pudding, which can be frozen like ice cream. The variety of textures and temperatures helps keep it from being boring.

I plan to clean out the refrigerator and cupboards this weekend. It will be almost a year before I will be back on a regular diet so there is no sense keeping them stocked. I am saddest about 2 pears, an apple and a half a bag of shelled pistachios. It’s been my habit for a long time to sit down at the computer when I get home with a bottle of water and a piece of fruit. The apple is a Red Delicious, and it is perfectly shaped and colored. The pears are Boscs – also my favorite. Maybe I will paint them or photograph them before they head to Jane’s house with the rest of my groceries.

When I was calculating the cost of this diet, I considered that I would not be eating out every day. At $10 – $12 per day, that expense adds up. On the other hand, it is important for me to get away from my desk so that I don’t feel deprived. Today, I downed my soup then jumped in the car and headed to the local thrift shop where I blew the equivalent cost of three days lunches. So much for saving… I am going to have to come up with a more imaginative and cheaper lunch plan.

So.. on to the weekend!

The Journey To Skinnitude

Donna — Fri, 14 May 2010 00:07:47 +0000

Fat. 35 years of fat.

All the physical complications associated with Fat. Type 2 diabetes. Thyroid issues. Back pain. Swollen legs and feet. All the psychological complications from Fat. Low self-respect. Insecurity. Irritability. Compensation.

I have been seriously fat for 35 years, but honestly, I thought I was fat for years before that. When I wore a size 14 in high school, I thought I was monsterous. After high school, the weight started creeping up on me.

On Monday, I weighed 248 pounds. That’s 120 pounds of Fat.

On Monday, I started a new plan. I am now on the Methodist Hospital “New Directions” weight loss program. I decided to embark on this journey after watching my boss, Donnie, lose 50 pounds in three months. He looks like a new person. He has seemed happy about the whole process. His only problem has been that, since they make you drink so much water, he heads to the men’s room about every ten minutes.

The plan lasts about a year and costs a small fortune. It consists of prepared meals, weekly weigh-ins and blood pressure tests, consultations with doctors, dieticians and counselors, group therapy and monthly blood tests. Once I am within 10 pounds of my goal weight – which should be 5-6 months from now - I will be able to introduce real food back into my diet, but will continue with the program after that to re-program myself to eat properly.

I went to the orientation a couple of weeks ago. Last week, I had a physical including bloodwork, urinalysis and an EKG to make sure I am fit enough to do this. I got the OK on Tuesday to start the program on Wednesday.

On Tuesday night, I went to Jane’s for a “last supper”. Grilled ribeyes with mushrooms in butter sauce, potatoes with sour cream, salad with good dressing, hard rolls with butter and my last bottle of Gravity 05 Shiraz. It was heavenly.

Yesterday morning, I met with the dieticians and started the program. I told this skinny, young thing that, while I recognized it had taken me 35 years to put on all this weight, could she please make me a size 6 by next Tuesday? Some people have no sense of humor. I purchased 4 boxes of mixes which will be my meals for the next week. Each box contains seven packets of concentrated drink concoctions to be mixed with water and consumed 4 times a day. I chose cream of chicken soup, orange pineapple drink, chocolate pudding and vanilla with fiber drink. In addition to these meals, I must drink one ounce of water for every 2 pounds I weigh - 124 ounces per day. Of that amount, 32 ounces can be decaffeinated coffee, tea or soda. That’s a lot of liquid. I think that’s more liquid than I have swallowed in months.

Before leaving for the hospital, I had already had a cup of yogurt and a couple of cups of coffee . I had sipped through a bottle of water in the car on the way to the hospital. While at the hospital, I drank my first vanilla with fiber drink and downed another bottle of water. After completing all my meetings with I headed to the car to go to work.

About half way to work, I started feeling a little uneasy. Should I stop at a fast-food place to use the bathroom? Nah, I can make it. Then there was a car accident in front of me on the highway slowing us to a snail’s pace. Uh oh. Pull over? Nah, I can make it. Finally, I pulled into the parking garage at work, grabbed my stuff and headed for the elevator. I knew I was in trouble. I was praying I could make it. I hit the button and … damn… Nah, I couldn’t make it… Back to the car, back on the highway, back to the house for a shower and a change of clothes.

As you can imagine, I was a bit freaked out. It’s a 30 minute ride to work. Could I make it back?? I looked around the house for options. A few months back, my dog Mel was having incontinence issues, so I bought her doggie diapers. Could I? Would I? You betcha. I headed back to work with a doggie diaper in my pants and a change of clothes in a carryall bag.

I was fine for the rest of the day yesterday. I drank my water and ate two more mixes. I wasn’t very hungry at all. I went to bed at about 10PM.

At 3AM, I woke up with a roaring headache at 3am. The dieticians had told me that the first week would be tough especially because I have been such a heavy coffee drinker – 4 -5 cups a day. My body was going through caffeine withdrawals. Add to it that I stopped smoking at the same time. Today was a little rough – not with the food or water, but with a pounding headache and general crankiness. I have a staff of about 70 people who tiptoed around me.

It is not going to be easy but I am determined. I plan to post here regularly about my journey to skinnitude.

A Fried Egg On Your Forehead

Donna — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 11:35:33 +0000

On her album, “Live At Last”, Bette Midler told the story of her encounter with a woman walking down 42nd street.

The lady was humongous and wore a big, blue house dress peppered all over with little white daisies. She was almost bald but sitting on her forehead was a fried egg. Bette went on to say that she thought of that lady every day.

“Oh God,” she’d say to herself, “Oh God, don’t let me wake up tomorrow and want to put a fried egg on my head. Oh God.” Then she’d say real fast, “Oh God, if by chance I should wind up with a fried egg on my head (cause sometimes you can’t help those things you know, you can’t), don’t let anybody notice.” And then she’d say real fast after that, “If they do notice that I’m carrying something that’s not quite right and they want to talk about it, let ‘em talk about it but don’t let ‘em talk so I can hear, I don’t want to hear it, because the truth about fried eggs, you can call it a fried egg, you can call it anything you like, but everybody gets one, some people wear ‘em on the outside, some people they wear ‘em on the inside.”

A number of years ago, early, early one Saturday morning, I was shopping at my neighborhood grocery store. As I headed one way up the aisle, a woman headed the other way toward me, shopping in the opposite direction. She was talking loudly, waving her hands and pushing her shopping basket with her stomach.

“Hmmmph,” I thought, “Crazy woman.” I headed to the next aisle and there she was again, moving the opposite direction toward me, talking a blue streak, waving her arms about, belly bumping her buggy. I smiled and nodded at her as she passed. Three aisles later, I realized she had an earplug in her ear and was talking on her cell phone. It was the first time I had ever seen someone use an earplug. Not crazy. Normal.

Used to be, it wasn’t hard to tell the crazy people from “the rest of us”. A fried egg would be a great clue, but usually, the crazy people dressed weird and talked to themselves.

Take a look almost anywhere these days – in schools, in businesses, even in churches, and the whole world looks like it has gone crazy. Nowadays, everyone is talking in public while standing alone. Some are on cell phones, some are off their nut. Who can tell the difference?

People one cell phones talk so loud you can’t help but be drawn into their conversation. Most of the time, it is easy to figure out the other half of the conversation is. “What time will you be home?…..I’m on my way to the parking garage……Domino’s. No anchovies.” No brainer.

Other times, you are left with the strange suspicion that they could be planning a bank heist or hostile takeover. “The purple fog lands tonight.” “I’ll swank the voles at the dog pond.” “Izzy fizzy on the dizzy.” What??

I work in an office in a 12-story building. It is not uncommon to be on the elevator with a pal or two on the way to lunch only to have some boob with a cellphone jammed to his ear get on from another floor talking loudly. Any conversation you may have been conducting is immediately interrupted. We tend to be respectful when other people are talking on the phone. Not me, anymore. I put my foot down. If I have been talking, I keep on talking. I’m guess turning into a cranky old lady with a bad attitude.

Speaking of bad attitude, when did clothing get to be optional?

It has been the bizarre fashion in the past few years for some young men and a few woman to wear their pants so baggy that they hang down off their hips. Usually, this outfit is accompanied by an oversized shirt. The kids usually have one hand or both in their pockets, hitching up their drawers to keep them from plummeting to the floor.

The other day, I saw a tall kid wearing a white sleeveless t-shirt tucked into his black boxer shorts. The top of his jeans didn’t even cover his rear end which was hanging out over his belt. He could hardly walk. The same thing happened in a restaurant recently. The busboy’s pants kept threatening to fall of him. As he moved from table to table, filling customer’s iced tea and water glasses, he hitched his pants up over his bum. Maybe it’s just me, but I dont want someone serving food to me after his hand has been on his backside.

It’s not just the guys. I have seen more bra straps and thong straps than I can count. Between crop tops and low slung jeans, there is no hiding the nickel bank view that used to be the sole proprietorship of those in the plumbing trade. Add a tattooed lower back, sometimes called a “tramp stamp” or a “slag tag”. There are some women who can pull this off – mostly tiny, little waifs who eat one Cheerio for dinner. Much of the time, however, the view is decidedly unappealing. And what is with this fashion of wearing tights with an oversized shirt? To me, tights are like pantyhose. If you wear them with just a shirt, it looks to me like you forgot to put your pants on.

I am sorely tempted to don that big, old daisy-printed housedress. I will shave half my head, slap a fried egg on it and walk down the street. I don’t think anyone will even give me a second look.

Donna

By The Side of The Road

Donna — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 14:23:47 +0000

Last Monday morning was grey and dreary. Jane and I were doing our usual 7AM carpool to work. There, lying against the concrete barrier on the inside lane of the highway, I saw an inflatable doll, fully inflated, wearing a lacy bra and panties. She looked as surprised to be there as I was surprised to see her. It made me start thinking of all the things I have seen on the side of the road.

When I first moved to Texas, I lived with my parents in Fort Worth. To get home, I liked to take a couple of shortcuts which led me through pastures that were full of wildflowers and big, fat, happy cows. Mind you, I was still new to Texas after moving from suburban Boston. The sight of a cow by the side of the road still caught me by surprise. Frankly, after 25 years, it still does.

I worked for Oshman’s Sporting Goods at the time at a store in Arlington. It was a good hour ride away from home. When I worked the evening shift, I drove home pretty late, sometimes close to midnight. My headlights sometimes caught the glowing eyes of animals prowling the pastures in the night.

One night, after working particularly late, I bumped quickly down my shortcut, anxious to get home. There, on the side of the road, was a huge mass of pink flesh. I went by so fast, it didn’t register until I was past it that someone must have run into a cow and that I had seen a huge pile of dead beef on the hoof. I was sick to my stomach. The more I thought about it, the more nauseated I was. The next morning, I opted for the longer route to work, knowing I couldn’t look at it again. That evening, more from habit than choice, I took my short cut again. As I neared the spot, I cringed, worried I would see the same sight in the broad daylight. Then, there it was! A huge roll of fiberglass insulation. Complete with the Pink Panther logo. No cow. Just an overactive imagination.

Cut to Houston, 2005ish. Jane and I were in the car, headed back to work after lunch. At a bus stop on the corner sat a homeless woman dressed in rags. She was scary looking, with crazy hair and bizarre features. As we sat there, waiting for the light to change, she began to sing. Out of this strange looking creature’s mouth came the most beautiful strains of “I Shall Be Released”.

A few days later, at the same intersection, we again waited for the light. Next to the same bus stop, a man lay on his back, arms and legs splayed. We watched for a moment or two, but saw no movement – no breath.

Jane looked at me. “Do you think he is dead?”

“Should we check?”

I drove around the corner and pulled into the back entrance of a donut shop. I pulled as close to him as I could. No motion. No movement of his chest. I looked at Jane. She looked at me.

“I am not getting out of the car,” I said. She didn’t look anxious to get out either.

“Should we call 911?”, she asked. She grabbed her cell phone and handed it to me. I dialed. The dispatcher answered immediately.

“What is your emergency?”

“We are on the corner of West 34th Street and Mangum and there is a man lying next to the bus stop. We think he is dead.”

“Does he have a pulse?”

“ummm… We don’t want to get out of the car.” I could feel her roll her eyes in disgust.

“We will send someone to check it out.”

I put the car in reverse, headed out of the parking lot on the way back to work.

Jane looked at me. “Don’t you want to know what happens?”

It took her a good five minutes to convince me to turn around and head back to the bus stop. We were about a half mile away and her cell phone rang. I answered it.

“Did you call to report a dead body?”

“Yes.”

“The officers are there and they can’t find anyone.”

Just then, we pulled up to the intersection and saw the policeman talking to our “dead body”, who was standing next to him trying to explain why he had been lying flat on his back by the side of the road next to the bus stop.

“Uhh…. the policeman is talking to him right now.”

Jane and I decided at that moment that we need a pokey stick to keep us from making the same mistake again. It could be attached to the side of the car and be extended to poke anything or anyone we come across that we think might be dead and don’t want to touch.

On our commutes to work, Jane sometimes sees things that I miss. Mostly, they are naked people. Once, she saw a naked man kneeling by the freeway, his arms raised up as in prayer. I missed it. Once, when driving home alone, she saw a man wearing a green hospital gown, untied in the front, running alongside the expressway, his private parts bouncing in the breeze. She called 911 to report it. They refused to believe she could not provide them with a cross street and wouldn’t send anyone to check it out. I guess they still had her phone number on file from the last dead body report and wrote her off as a kook.

Now we both have cell phones with cameras in them. On the way to work the other day, we drove down a side street and saw a flock of chickens. We stopped and took pictures. From now on, in an effort to reduce the kook factor, we are determined to document the weird sights we see. Be prepared to see photos.

Donna