Category Archives: nostalgia

Still Me at 50: Just With Stronger Coffee and a Deep Commitment to Quality Breakfast Burritos

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“You don’t stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing.”

— George Bernard Shaw

If you know anything about me, you know that I live to laugh. I credit this quality with helping me lead a happy, mostly peaceful, and unbothered life. I’m the kind of girl who would rather watch silly sitcoms than movies, prefers clever podcasts to dramatic series, and there’s nothing I love more than chatting with a quick-witted friend. So as I celebrate 50 years of life, I’m quietly chuckling at how little my personality has changed over the years.

I was a smiley kid, and I had a wonderful childhood. Comedy was built into our family—though I’m not sure every member of the household remembers it that way. I mean, I found a lot of things absolutely hilarious. I have too many funny memories to count, and thanks to my brothers, I was often the target of their practical jokes. One of the funniest parts now is looking back and laughing at the times I took myself way too seriously. My siblings will gladly tell you how ridiculously clumsy I was, making you belly laugh over the countless times I injured myself trying to do something sporty or just walk in a grocery store. Even today, the best part of going home is all the laughter. It’s in our DNA.

And speaking of DNA—one of the silly routines I’ve carried with me from childhood to adulthood is the importance of breakfast. I think it would warm my mom’s heart (and maybe even get a proud little smile) to know how her breakfast mandate stuck with me over the years. I even harp on my own kids about it. I can’t make travel plans without calculating when and where we’ll get breakfast AND coffee. I go to sleep thinking about breakfast AND coffee. I’ve even said out loud, more than once, “You know what I’m excited about?” That’s right: breakfast AND coffee. You’re laughing at me, but it’s true.

I hope I never stop laughing—especially at myself. Which brings us to the inspiration behind this blog post. Here’s a quick giggle for you. I remember being a 20-year-old college student, rushing into a campus building (coins in hand) to buy a crummy cup of coffee from a vending machine. All the while, I had scrambled eggs wrapped in a tortilla (protected by aluminum foil) tucked into the small pocket of my bag. That was my daily college breakfast. No amount of money could persuade me to drink vending machine coffee today. I still like my coffee strong, but it’s name brand and a whole lot more refined—and yes, I’ve definitely upgraded my breakfast burrito game, too.

At 50, I have leveled up, but make no mistake—I’m still that same girl laughing at her own clumsiness, with a heart full of gratitude, coffee in hand… and probably some salsa on her shirt.

ABOUT THIS SERIES: Still Me at 50 is a lighthearted look at life through the eyes of someone who’s not trying to reinvent herself—but maybe just tweak the coffee order. As I celebrate this milestone year, I’m reflecting on all the ways I’ve stayed the same (for better or worse), and laughing at how my younger self would probably high-five me for keeping it “real talk real.” These posts are part celebration, part confession, and all in good fun.

GIFTED: A Childhood Christmas Memoir (Vignette Three)

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My favorite hiding place is music. Unknown.

I started taking piano lessons sometime during elementary school, though the exact year escapes me. I recall learning finger placements, scales, and, of course, how to read music. I had truly wonderful piano teachers who were both encouraging and straightforward. Practice was not just necessary but absolutely required. Whoa, the child who showed up unprepared! I took seriously the idea of practicing every day and it wasn’t until adulthood that I realized what an undertaking that was…not for me, but for my family!

I have a feeling that my personal practice policy was not a directive from either of my teachers but more a process of self-flagellation that I created all on my own. It went something like this, miss a note…start over…from the beginning. Repeat. This may not sound like a horrible methodology, but when you’re a child and prone to mistakes, practice sessions could go on…and on…and on.

My mom had this one joke that she liked to tell over and over. It was probably extra funny because it went right over my head. She would say, “Can you play far, far away?” I naively thought that was the name of a song rather than a location. I’m certain she made this joke for years before I finally got it. Did I mention that our piano was in the living room?

And all that long lead-up to get to another one of my favorite Christmas gifts—my Casio keyboard. Oh, how I wanted a keyboard! Oh, how I loved that keyboard! Oh, how wild it is that 37 years later I still have that keyboard AND IT STILL WORKS!

The keyboard was a gift when I was 12 years old. I wanted a keyboard so bad…think Ralphie and the Red Ryder BB Gun. I would hint about it, talk about it, scheme about it, write about it, and I would lay out my case about why this would be such a good Christmas present. And then on Christmas…I got it!

I certainly didn’t deserve a Casio keyboard. I can play piano but I am no virtuoso. Our family budget didn’t warrant it, not by a long shot. Undoubtedly, I probably wasn’t extra good or anything like that. That’s one of the most remarkable lessons about love, sometimes we get what we don’t deserve (good or bad).

I found out later that my mom and dad bought the last keyboard in the store. It was the demo keyboard on the shelf. Mom said they almost didn’t sell it to her. Yet, she persisted. There was no stand, no box, just the keyboard, and the plug-in adapter. Since it was opened she was cautioned that the purchase was “as is,” no refunds. I should tell Casio just what a quality product they made back in the 1980s.

I don’t have to tell you I was the happiest kid in the whole world that Christmas. Oh, I had big plans. I was going to practice more than ever, I was going to be able to play everything from classical to pop music, I was going to write songs like Debbie Gibson…. Then my mom told me, “You know there’s a little plug-in on the back so you can play with headphones…in your room.”

I guess that counts as far, far away.

GIFTED is a three-part series about the best Christmas gifts I received in childhood. Take a walk with me down memory lane as I unwrap the magic of Christmases past.

Nostalgia is a B— (My Silent Mid-Life Crisis, Part IV)

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The funny thing about chasing the past is that most people wouldn’t know what to do with it if they caught it.  —Atticus, poet

I am a sucker for nostalgia.  “Remember when…” and “how we used to….” followed by “back in the day….”  Yes, ALL good stuff!  In my heart, I carry around a zillion memories, stories and images, of days gone by.  I can’t help myself.  I remember our old house (the one by the church,) my Pepto-Bismol pink basement bedroom that had a closet with a secret door.  I remember awful lunch ladies who wouldn’t let me go out to recess if I didn’t try EVERYTHING on my plate.  I especially remember the one NICE lunch lady who healed my wasp sting with a special baking soda balm (in my recollection she wears a superhero cape!)  Filed away in my mind are all the important “firsts,” childhood friends, and a hidden compartment labeled NEVER, EVER DO THAT AGAIN!  Nostalgia.  Something as simple as a song or a smell can take me back.  Next thing you know, I’m lost in thought…off on my own adventure…sort of like stepping through the secret door in that old closet.  Suddenly, I’m in a completely different place…and I like it there.

Yes, nostalgia is a tricky thing.  For a control freak like myself, it’s absolutely bewitching.  I know all the plot lines, the dialogue, the setting and most importantly, the outcome.  These are my stories.  These are my people.  These are my glory days.  I think the Twilight Zone touched on this theme…the idea of “going back” —as if all our best days were behind us!  If you’re a fan of the show, you know nothing good can come from chasing the past.  And I mean nothing.  Yet…it’s tempting.  We all have that desire to relive a special moment, right a wrong, fix a relationship or situation, say words that we left unsaid…the list could go on and on.  And while the concept of nostalgia seems so benign, when one crosses the threshold of midlife, nostalgia can cause things to get ugly…fast.

Theodore Roosevelt famously said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  There’s so much wisdom in that statement.  As we reach our supposed “midpoint,” it’s natural to take inventory and evaluate our lives.  Am I in a good place? Am I happy with the choices I’ve made? Should I have chosen differently?  Before long, we start making plans for the future.  What will my second act look like?  What still needs to be done?  What should be done?  We start examining our lives internally AND externally.  Graying hair, wrinkles, shifting weight and suddenly we’re regretting every yummy dessert and cursing those not-so-funny laugh lines. Making these assessments often lends itself to comparison.  Look at what she’s doing.  Look at how far he’s come.  Look at what they’ve got.  Combine these comparisons with nostalgic reflections, mix with hormones and suddenly you’re gulping down the poison of one volatile cocktail!

Sure, nostalgia is a B—, if we blame others for the choices we made in the past, if we use it as a means of justifying today’s regrets and if we let it fuel our present dissatisfaction. But before we write nostalgia off as just another bad word, let’s do a little re-labeling. Shift our perspective, if you will. Nostalgia is a B—but what if that B stands for BLESSING?  Hear me out.  In a healthy context, one where we recount the past for the good that it set into motion…we can truly see the blessing.  In good ol’ George Bailey fashion, we can come to value the past…both the mountain top moments AND our days in the valley.  Clarence, the angel, reminds us, “One man’s life touches so many others, when he’s not there it leaves an awfully big hole.”  I don’t want to compare my life to anyone else’s.  I don’t want to wallow in regrets or seeth with envy.  I don’t want the past to keep me from moving forward.  My past (and yours) is precious.  It has set into play the person that I am today (flaws and all.)  And if I don’t like that person, I can change.  My story isn’t over (and neither is yours!)

This midlife stuff is hard.  None of us have it all figured out.  It’s important to offer yourself grace and remember, this is all normal.  And while I’m not sure that I can say that I wouldn’t change a single thing, what I can say is that I don’t regret a single moment.  The good, bad, (the uncertain) and especially the ugly.  Nostalgia is a B—, but its definition is up to me.  Plus, it will always be one of my favorite places to visit…because I know all the plot lines, the dialogue, and the settings.  These are my stories.  These are my people.  These are my glory days…and I have a few more to make in the process.

Remember the days of old; consider the years long past.  Deuteronomy 32:7

UP NEXT:  Cowboy Take Me Away (My Silent Midlife Crisis, Part V)

 

 

 

 

 

 

KEEP CALM, Summer’s Coming (15 Sunshine-Inspired Songs) SONG 13

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Walk towards the good life and one day you will arrive.  –Atticus

I’m not gonna lie…”500 Miles” by the Proclaimers is on several of my personal playlists.  Both catchy and campy, this song contains a quality that resonates with many…especially since one does not have to know how to sing in order to sing along with this little ditty.  And who doesn’t love a song like that?

Now a world-renowned hit, “500 Miles” first appeared on the music scene in 1988.  The Proclaimers, made up of Scottish twins Craig and Charlie Reid, first topped the charts in Iceland, Australia and New Zealand…but it wasn’t until 1993 (with the release of the movie Benny and Joon) that the song reached epic status.  From there, “500 Miles” has topped the charts worldwide, been featured in additional films, on TV, and in commercials, rewritten for charity and covered by countless bands.  Penned by Craig Reid (reportedly in less than one hour,) he said in an interview that he knew it would be a hit…although he had no idea just how popular the song would be!  The duo’s only American Top 10, it initially received limited air time, that is until station managers realized the term “havering” actually didn’t mean anything “naughty.” (The slang term actually refers to endless babbling.)

The song has come full circle for me.  While the lyrics seem to suggest that this song is about a couple, I think it can also fit any type of love relationship or friendship…probably one of the reasons so many are drawn to it.  It was my best friend’s favorite song back in high school.  We played it countless times on the way to and from school, while cruising Main Street on  warm summer nights, in the Sonic drive-thru…I think you get the picture.  I carried this song with me to college…playing it over and over as a fun reminder of days gone by.  Eventually this one-hit wonder drifted away from my mind until my teenage son “discovered” it on Netflix via the sitcom “How I Met Your Mother.”  Apparently the song has regained status among a new generation thanks to the antics of Ted and Marshall.  Today, “500 Miles” has become something of an odd family favorite as we all know the words and typically sing it at the top of our lungs while cruising along in the swagger wagon…a zanny anthem for sweethearts, friends and now…families, too!

“Da da da dun diddle un diddle un diddle uh da….”

 

Up Next…SONG 14…”their ain’t no cure for the summertime blues….”