Thursday, May 17, 2007

Bitter...party of one?

I must vent. My husband doesn't seem to care how deeply affected I am, my friends are tired of my rant, and so this is the only place to turn. Reader, you too may turn a deaf ear, but I care not! I must rid myself of this bitterness: How could America dismiss Melinda Doolittle from American Idol?! It is an injustice that made me want to throw my well-used remote through the TV last night. What is going on, people?!

Oh, yes, I've heard it. "Jordin is the whole package. She is so YOUNG." As if youth itself were some kind of talent. And that is one of the big problems with America today. Our crazy obsession with youth. Look, people, everyone can be young once. And if everybody does it, then it ain't that special! Frankly, I don't care if someone is 17, 29, 53 or 90. I just want someone who can deliver--with or without wrinkles. And Melissa delivered! The girl can sing anything, and with soul.

And that, my friends, is the gift of aging--Soul. Experience. Depth. When is our society going to get that? At what point are we going to stop discarding our women over a "certain age." Oops, maybe I've gone on too long. I am nearing 40. Who cares what a woman that age thinks? Do I sound bitter? Good.

Friday, May 4, 2007

Lord of the Flies

The flies in Arizona this spring are out of control. I don't know the reason for the increase, but our friends agree that they are much worse than our previous two springs, and their sheer mass has turned my adorable hubby into the door nazi.

Now, he has always had a thing with lights. In the evening we live like vampires, and I swear, if it were feasible, we would be going all Abraham Lincoln and live by the dim light of one candle. Currently that passion has been transferred to the sliding backdoor. "Close the door! Griff, get the door! Close the door behind you! What is so hard about closing the door?" Boom, slam, bang, shut.

I must have caught the door obsession too because I was aghast when I stumbled downstairs in my bathrobe one morning to find the front door blown wide open. "How long has that been open?" I mumbled as I took care of it, feeling proud that I was surely saving my family from an onslaught of nasty pests.

On hearing the door close, Thomas emerged from his office. "Did you know the door was wide open?" I asked.

"Yeah, there's a really nice breeze this morning."

Huh? The breeze immediately increased due to the whiplash of my brain. "Do you want a house full of flies?" I querried.

With sincere earnestness he replied, "I've never seen a fly come through the front door."

I guess this particular species of housefly is very informal.