One week ago, I was privileged to attend a fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration. The happy couple, long-time family friends, were married August 15th, 1959, and are both seventy-two years young. It was a festive occasion, complete with dinner, dancing and a video scrapbook of the couple’s life, from birth until present. I could not help but think that I probably will receive very few silver anniversary invitations in my remaining lifetime. The average age for first-time marriages has risen, and divorce gobbles up 40-50 percent of those once happy unions. Life expectancy for women is currently 80 years, however her spouse can only expect to live to an average age of 73. Widowhood puts a kabosh on the prized half-century anniversary party.
For our friends, Mary Ann and Dave, I raise my glass and toast the rare milestone that you achieved last weekend. It was an honor to celebrate a healthy, committed relationship that has survived the ups and downs of a fifty year ride. I wish you both continued good health and happiness, and would welcome an invitation to a party in honor of your 75th anniversary. Cheers!
A co-worker loaned me a book this past week. It turned out to be a can’t-put-it-down kind of read. I am referring to the novel, “The Art of Racing in the Rain,” by Garth Stein. Very early on, you realize that the story is being told through the voice of a dog. I was hooked already! Enzo longs to be a human with thumbs and a tongue that can form spoken words. He shares his story of life with his owner, Denny, who happens to race cars. The tale brings both smiles and tears, and has hints of spirituality woven within the pages. I gobbled up Mr. Stein’s style of writing, and plan to read two more novels scribbled in his pen.
This book has left me wondering what my own canine, Lexi, would say if she could speak. Does she like it here with us, her second owners? Does she really get miffed when I have her coat shaved at the groomers, or am I just imagining that she pouts in the car when I pick her up? Is she really training for the lead dog in the Iditarod, or does she just enjoy pulling me through the neighborhood on our daily constitutionals? These are just a few of the many questions I would ask Miss Lexi if given the opportunity to converse with her. Meanwhile, I give Enzo two thumbs up for sharing his story!
It would seem that everyone has some sort of vice, or two, or more. Typical vices might include drinking, smoking, gambling, illegal drug use, and incessant viewing of reality TV shows. (I made up the last one.) I do not partake in any of the above mentioned activities, but would include a sugar addiction and cursing as my two vices. I am not sure how or when I actually sprouted my sweet tooth, but I have on occasion attempted to ban refined sugar and other processed white stuff from my diet. I do not usually stay on the wagon for any notable length of time.
I am currently considering eliminating curse words from my vocabulary.Unlike my sugar habit, I am able to pinpoint the moment in time when my potty mouth was born. In seventh grade, I befriended two girls in my grade-Terry and Terry. The two Terrys were already traveling in the fast lane at the advanced age of thirteen, and I hitched a brief ride. They cursed like sailors, and I, their naive follower, began mimicking their not-so-ladylike vocabulary. A habit was born. I have been cursing now for about thirty-six years. I am proud of the fact that I am able to turn my toilet mouth on and off at will. I do not swear when involved in professional situations at work, and rarely swear at home except for the occasional s_ _ t or d_ _ n when I spill or break something.
I do often swear in my car, because it seems that on most days, I appear to be the only one on the road who actually passed a driving test. I also curse in conversation as a means of emphasis. It’s like adding another adjective in front of an adjective in an effort to really drive home a point, or more accurately describe something. This is my most preferred use of the curse word, and will probably be the hardest to give up.
In an effort to continually strive to improve myself, I will attempt to bite my tongue or seal my lips when the urge to curse seems warranted. I hope like hell that I am able to do it!