"I think, therefore I am" (Rene' Descartes)

…..I found this Microsoft Works Word Processor and thought I’d give it a try. It looks a lot like Word which I used for my books. However, this has many more colors for fonts than Word does, and this is one of them. It looks very much like the color of this font I used a few times on Word. Oh, well, it’s not very important. However, it is adventurous. I’ll write a post to my blog here; then I’ll copy it and paste it at the blog site and see how it works.

…..Ok, let’s try this one; it’s called midnight teal. Word doesn’t name its colors.
We’ve been working on the seating arrangements for the party and it’s coming along very well. We are trying to seat people with company at their table that they will enjoy. But a few people apparently don’t know what RSVP means so that we can’t finish the job. We do expect about 55 guests, and they all will have to make a 15 minute speech. Let’s see now; 15 X 55=?. We may have to order breakfast.
 
…..Oh, let’s try this pink. Looks very pretty. It’s very bright, and I don’t know if my eyes or some reader’s eyes will be able to handle it, so whatever I’ve got to say better be short. Actually I don’t have too much to say. Well, I can say that I’ve been retired for 30 years and during that time I’ve always found something interesting to do. In the beginning it was golf. I played with Eric Gurien, Murray Weinstein, and on occasion, Irv Forman. These are three guys with whom we each raised our children in East Meadow, NY. Now, my golfing buddies are all gone, along with 10 more buddies with whom I spent three years in WWII.  I have only a couple of buddies here.

…..OK. This is called dark yellow, and it appears easy to read. To continue with my retirement years, I performed in several musicals in our theatre. Learning my lines in between rehearsals was the tough part, but being on stage was really gratifying and fun. Some retired people I know around here find it very difficult to pass the time, so they usually sit by the pool and chat. Finally, I passed my time writing a “blog” which is a journal or a diary. I can’t decide, but out of them came thirteen books. Like authors write. So, now I'm a member of Ernest Hemingsway’s group. 

'Tis not the years in your life, but the life in your years that counts. (Adlai Stevenson)

.....I'm running out of colors for the posts to this blog.  I suppose that's normal for 502 if them, but I don't recall using this brownish color.  I imagine JR can find a post with his spy glasses, but I don't know.  Neither does it matter.  What does matter, however, is health.  I believe I am about 90% healthy (to go with my age soon to be), but since I've had surgery on both hips I can't walk like a normal person, I have to use a walker, or a scooter, or a wheelchair.  I'm not thrilled about the result of those two falls.  Having to use those devices to get around is not a good thing, let me tell you.  And since I gave RH+ the keys to my car, she has to drive me wherever I have to go--and that's not a good thing either.

 

.....Last night we saw a most unusual show in our theatre.  This guy sang for an hour and a half, and for each song there was a video behind him of various scenes.  He sang a couple of familiar pop tunes along with a few operatic ones.  I didn't know most of the tunes he sang so I did not understand him, but I wondered at the talent he displayed.  His range was incredible, & not understanding did not get in the way of appreciating his talent.  Singing with a video behind him, strangely enough, was a device I had scheduled in the manuscript for a show which I wrote for residents to perform. The songs I was going to use with a video from u-tube were "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again", "This Land is Your Land",  "In the Mood", & Neil Diamond's "Coming to America".  Last night, to end his show, he sang and played some disco songs.  Rh+ couldn't help herself, so she stood up and danced solo. I probably could dance a couple of steps with my walker, but it would not be a sight long remembered.

 

.....Well, let's take a hiatus from the entertainment world to the world of politics.  Or perhaps that should be the whirl of politics.  One girl who will surely be in a whirl when she becomes the nominee for President is Hillary Clinton.  She has everything a nominee could ask for, millions in her coffer, experience of foreign affairs having been Secretary of State, women in her corner, more millions to come--and Time magazine agrees with me.  And so does Bill and Chelsea, who have inside knowledge of the rest rooms in the White House.  Of course the Republican Tea Party will not be happy campers, there's not much they can do about it.  And they can forget about repealing Obama Care.  Roe vs. Wade?  I haven't a clue.

We're on our way!

 ........The big news here is that I am trying to recover from a bout with bronchitis.  Yesterday I woke with a sore throat and a frequent cough that brought up phlegm (...and why isn't cough pronounced "co" as in " though; or brought pronounced "broff" as in brought?) Sorry for the interruption but I simply had to get it out of my system. 

.The other day we went up to the VA Hospital because they called and said they had a wheel chair for me.  I had asked my primary doctor to order one for me after I explained why I needed one. I can't use a walker for more than about 25 yards (Cuzzin Ruth can change yards into something British) because after 25 yards my legs and arms cramp up and I have to stop for a few minutes. It's tough to go to the mall with the walker as you can figure out. I had asked for a "companion" chair which is very light and fairly easy for RH+ to push me or fold up the chair and put it in the trunk of the car.

.....Getting a wheel chair was a tough and emotional call for me as I had seen my dad in a chair, and it seemed that I was just following in his footsteps--a situation I hoped would never happen to me. But it did--and I hate it. I also hate the walker, but I do. Having to use these aids to get around is not what I figured my "senior" years to be. The worst thing about it is that you lose your dignity.  Yes,....you do. Dignity, gone. Well, I have to deal with it if I want to get out of the house. I always say "house" because it's seems silly to say you want to get out of the "condo". I will be having a surprise birthday party in a few weeks, and I don't look forward to the guests seeing me push a walker or sitting in a wheel chair. I don't want to look 90. I prefer 89.

 

.....One activity which I am going to miss is performing. One of the goals in my life was to sing in an operetta--Gilbert & Sullivan primarily. I did; I sang in three of their operettas in the main role. I also wanted sing in a B'Way musical such as "Fiddler on the Roof"--and I did--as Tevye. And I did sing in several others in the main roles.  Of course these performances were conducted in our theatre which is state of the art and has 602 seats.  I also aspired to write a mucical--which I did in 2013.

"There are few that die well that die in a battle." (Henry V)

.....So the French Consulate wants to medal me, and that will be at a ceremony. Suppose I tell them that I do not want another medal and they ask me why? And I will tell them I have no place to put it, and they say "How about on your chest?"  And I say, "Well all right if you're so adamant about it."  Now, I really don't know where to put another medal. I thought I had them all encased in a glassed frame which is hanging on the wall until the Navy, 60 year's late awarded me two Distinguish Flying Crosses and 10 more Air Medals.  Of course a gold star on the DFC indicates a second, and a small bronze 10 is on the Air Medal's ribbon, thankfully. Really I don't deserve any medals because I survived the war and lived my life until I was awarded a great grand son.  Those who did not survive never got the chance to live long enough to have any grandchildren.  They ought to receive these medals posthumously. They are the true heroes.  A friend of my son, Bobby, finishes his emails with the following tribute:

A veteran - is someone who, at one point in his or her life, wrote a blank check made payable to "The United States of America" for an amount of "up to and including my life." That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.

Well, enough on that subject; I never want to discuss it; I don't like to discuss it. So, I'll hop into my Sopwith Camel and fly around until I cool off.  Maybe I'll attack the enemy and shoot down a balloon or two.  Down here there is a lot going on. For instance, Mayor's Jewelry in the Town Center mall just called and said the work done on her diamond ring is done and that we can come and pick it up. I guess the ring celebrates our Engagement, our 30th Anniversary, her upcoming birthday, and my upcoming birthday.  RH$$ deserves a ring such as I bought her for all she does around her for me. I was I little frightened when I learned that a two carat diamond ring there goes of $35,000! Rhoda told the clerk that it would be too gaudy on her finger seeing that she was built so slight. We settled for something we could withstand.  I had no clue that diamonds went for that kind of money.

The next thing we have to get is something that really disturbs my psyche  The VA called and said that they have the "companion" wheelchair my doctor ordered for me.  It's a very light chair; one that RH! could handle easily and put in the trunk of the car.  I really need something like that because I'm getting to the point where I can't go too far with the walker.  I will detest getting into a wheelchair; it will be reminiscent of my father; it will be super disturbing and traumatic, but there is nothing I can do about it. I will need a chocolate ice cream soda after the experience.

 





  

Enough with the medals, already! I'm trying to forget WWII.

.....I don't know whether or not you'll be able to read this color.  I hope so because in over 500 posts to this blog I have never used it; but I like it.  And it will be very useful on St. Patrick's Day, whoever he is.  I believe he ran all the snakes out of Ireland or I stand corrected.  Anyway, I am writing this blog today because I have no other news than I received a call from the French Consulate informing me that they are awarding me a medal, a French one.  The young lady on the line said that I will be receiving a letter indicating what medal it is, and then another letter indicating when and where the ceremony will take place.  Where have these French been for the past 60 years?  Well, that's enough wearin' o' the green.  I can barely read it myself.

.....Ok, I know for a fact that this color is much better on the eyes--or not.  I guess this is the day for surprising phone calls. I received one from the VA Medical Center in WPB telling me that they have the companion wheel chair for me that I asked my doctor to order.. I was shocked.  I only spoke to my doctor last week, and told him I was going to need one.  As you know, I gave RH+ my car keys.  I always felt that I would never get into a car that a noventagenarian (I just made a new word) was driving, and so not to be a hypocrite, I gave her the keys.  Now, attached to the back of my car is a lift for my scooter, and since RH* does not want to drive my car, we opted for the wheel chair.  I can no longer am able to walk any distance with my walker, and since we cannot schlep the scooter around, and since we like to go to the mall once in a while, the wheel chair is the solution--even though I have no desire to follow in my father's footsteps--er, solution.  It will be a very light weight chair that RH! can put in her car.  Damn! 

.....Thank goodness for the VA. I get my meds from them; I get my hearing aids from them; I get my dental work from them; I get my equipment needs from them.  Since all of these things cost a pretty penny without the VA, I am glad that they have the funding.  If I bought these hearing aids privately they would cost $8000.  Speaking of costs, I just bought a diamond ring for RH$ and spent enough money on it so that I could have bought a 2014 Malibu for cash with it.  But you know--diamonds are a girl's best friend.  Or so they say.