Sunday, Loneliest Day of the Week

Too many bored people, listless, waiting to die.  One HAS to have a passion to go on living.  There's no doubt about it: one needs to create a curiousity about life's possibilities to want to go on living.  There are too many folks simply sitting, staring, with empty minds.  Or people tend to dwell on past memories. 

We have to listen, smell, taste, feel and hear life's endless opportunities.  It's necessary to create a pleasant environment to dwell in, then we can meditate  peacefully, absorbing and enjoying nature with contentment. 

Socialization is important.  Other people may annoy, bore or excite us, but others can create alive feelings within in.  We don't stew in our own loneliness, especially on Sundays, the "family" day of the week made for relaxing, not work.  I see this factor most important at senior citizen living places.  There are too many folks idle, bored...some only waiting to die.  Lively chatter, music, socialization can restore one's connections to living.  How important it is to be recognized and addressed by others.  We're no longer invisible when womeone addresses us with a smile.

Ponytails and Wrinkles

FROM WHERE I SIT             Ponytails & Wrinkles  Sept. 9, 2012   Pat Spilseth

Who are they?  I don’t recognize those faces though supposedly they’re my classmates.  Fifty years...some changes have occurred. 

She’s as cute as ever.  How does she maintain that body?  Liposuction?  And she’s Miss Organization, as always.  Who’s playing Santa with a pony tail?  Where are our Best Mixers? What happened to those social butterflies?  Wow! He’s really beefed up with that new “surfer” body.  California has added glamour and a tan to his Minnesota ufdas.  Now he reminds me of Beach Boys music and Lakeside dances.  And guess who made a grand entrance with his private plane?  I hear that my prom date of yesteryear missed the party.   

No longer is there talk of cruising Main Street checking out the chicks and studs.  I’m sure there was some talk of sleepless nights, replacement of body parts, and constipation woes.  And is Jimmy, the red-headed dentist, baking pies?  Who’d have thought the big game hunter would be in the kitchen rolling out pie crust instead of stuffing pheasants?

From CIA classmates interpreting Russian code to farmers coping with grain prices, business executives checking profits, ministers and teachers working with a new morality, and housewives and moms still promoting the values we grew up with, I know that my classmates’ lives have been filled with adventure as well as contentment.  We left high school at the beginning of the women’s movement and peace protests: now women are prominent in fields of medicine, business, and computers formerly open only by men.  We’ve moved on to other wars. 

Paging through the reunion book filled with photos brought to mind younger versions of myself and friends.  I couldn’t help but notice creases in foreheads, extra flesh on necks, triple chins, and the added pounds we try to hide.  OK, that’s only natural for most of us.  It’s been 50 years since those rock n’ roll high school years filled with pony tails and crew cuts, poodle skirts, and football jerseys. 

We’ve entered a new stage of life, woman-pause and man-pause.  That’s the in-between time of life with overheated motors without hormones.  Just how long are these hot flashes supposed to go on?   Most of us haven’t reached the point of moving into a retirement community, but monthly bills have some of us contemplating that next move into smaller quarters in a warmer climate.  I can’t picture myself in polyester pull-on pants and big T-shirts, not even in a uniform of slimming black, hoping to cover my expanded waistline.

Not me, I aim to stay in Minnesota with its four seasons of changing leaves and snow, the lakes and dear friends.  I’ll continue to wear wild outfits of color with no waists, long gypsy earrings, and strappy sandals...That’s ME.

Getting older hits me when I board the bus to a Twins game downtown or to the State Fair.  If someone gets up and offers me a seat, then I really know I’m old.  Or when I go to yoga at a senior residence and a stranger asks me, “Are you new here?”  I’ll just smile and say, “Nope, I haven’t hit seventy yet...a few more years to go before I move in...”

Perhaps it has been going on for a few years: the breakdown of movable parts.  When I study my face in the mirror I see crinkles above my lips and radiating pleats near my eyes.  Some friends and I will allow ourselves be old women with road-map faces and gray hair.  People will read our faces and know, they too will be going there.

Inside, I’m still thirty.  I see no Botox, face lifts, or black holes ahead, only sunshine and fluffy clouds.  In my dreams I’m still a young woman full of ideas, not discouraged or tired, anxious for the next adventure.  I’m simply in a stage of transition.  651 words

Take a Fall Road Trip

FROM WHERE I SIT      Take a Fall Road Trip    Sept. 24, 2012       Pat Spilseth

A road trip affords a traveler numerous views and experiences not available from an airplane.  Riding in my little Mazda Miata, Dave and I encountered pounding hail, drenching rain, warm sunshine, and tree leaves turning yellow and orange with brilliant splashes of red sumac.  I didn’t have to take off my shoes and jacket, remove the computer from my luggage, and have my body scanned either by some uniformed guard or that tube machine.  What freedom a road trip grants its riders!

This past week we decided to celebrate our anniversary with a road trip.  We ventured into Wisconsin with its stands of stately pine and birch trees along the interstate and drove through rolling farm fields where the corn and beans looked good.  Traveling the back roads, we rode through little towns, each with its own beer joints where folks gather daily for a glass of foam and ale plus the requisite Friday night fish fry.  It had been years since I’d had tasty, deep fried perch and fries with cole slaw and a pickle.  My cholesterol meter went into overdrive!  The neighborhood taverns reminded me of the TV program “Cheers” where Clint and Norm had their reserved bar stools to chat with Coach and Sam, the baseball hero, with Diane slinging one-liners and her coy smile.  We were the “outsiders”.  Other patrons rolled dice and knew each other’s names.

Peninsula Players was featuring the play “Lombardi” at their playhouse.  This Big Voiced, strong personality strut and stormed his mighty way through his players, wife, and any journalist brave enough to confront the famed coach.  We sat next to true Packer fans in their green and gold jackets and caps, bundled in a hand-knit, red, white and blue afghan keeping their knees toasty warm.  The play is coming to Mpls. later this fall. 

Door County is filled with gift shops, restaurants, B& B’s, and numerous galleries.  We met several artists I’d known years ago on the art circuit who had sold their wares in my shops called “next?”  As we viewed pottery, glassware, wood, leather work, and paintings, it was fun to encounter artists I’d known years ago and see their current work.  It’s not an easy way to make a living as an artist, hauling displays and art work around the country to sell, but it’s a rewarding life for many.

We traveled down Hwy 42 through Door County into Green Bay, Manitowoc, and Sheboygan, where I had lived for several years.  Downtown, the 1873 Victorian building, which my business partner and I had purchased in the ‘70’s, has been completely restored by its new owners, a bank.  The cream brick, three-story building had new windows and a beautiful fresh tri-color paint job.  My business partner and I had restored the first floor and had the brick building tuck-pointed, but installing an elevator and completing the top two floors was too expensive.  However, our restoration earned an honored plaque from the National Historic Registry in Washington, DC.  Current staff offered to take us through the building and gave us copies of the building’s history since the 1800’s.  Our grand tour felt like I was meeting a grown-up child.

Our friend Auds in Sheboygan took us to Bookworm Gardens, an amazing outdoor display of favorite children’s books.   Bookworm Gardens has been created solely through large and small donations.  One admirer said, “Bookworm Gardens is exactly what’s right with the world.  It’s peaceful, whimsical, educational, imaginative, thoughtful and so perfect for families to spend a few hours exploring, reading, and bonding.”  We saw Peter Rabbit’s garden and the construction of The Secret Garden, Mama, Papa and Baby Bears’ chairs, the Three Little Pigs’ straw, wood, and brick houses,  the barn of Charlotte’s Web, the Magic School Bus with its fairy flying wings, kids giving Harry the Dirty Dog a bath, and a humongous tin pipe snake with knobs and buttons crawling down a tree.

The Kohler Company gifted the John Michael Kohler Arts Center to the local community.  In addition to many gallery displays, the lovely historic home has amazing bathrooms that I’ve never seen in any other facility.  The Women’s Room features over 2000 carved, cast relief, and hand-painted tiles depicting playful interpretations of women’s roles alongside colorful women’s undergarments, hats, shoes, handbags, shoes from the past 150 years.  The Women’s Room is just one of six artist-made washrooms at the Arts Center.

In Madison, we visited the gift shop which our friend Leslie manages at the Museum of Contemporary Arts.  Students, parents, tourists, and business folk are frequent customers of the well-chosen displays of handmade pottery, jewelry, gloves, purses, menorahs, paper products, and glassware, including several pieces by world-renown glass artist Dale Chihuly.   

Driving into the countryside we arrived in Briggsville where Leslie and Bill have their own pottery studio and home in the woods by a creek.  Amidst dogs, six cats (who can open doors), and frogs, is a cozy kitchen where we ate and chatted near a potter’s wheel and kiln, drying pots, slips and glazes, a quilting table, sewing machine, drafting table, and orchids.  Life at their country home is a constant menagerie of people, animals, interesting objects, and activities.  It’s a vastly different life than our life on a Minnesota lake in Suberbia.  What a fabulous trip!  899 words