My father has a girlfriend and my mother approves

My father has a girlfriend.  For real.  My mom has met her and approves of this extramarital affair.


My father is in final stages of dementia.  He doesn't know people, place, time or circumstance.  He was moved into an Alzheimer facility in November.  He will be 90 in July and is still walking and talking.   And, apparently, dating.

There is a real sweetness about my father.  He engages people, smiles at them, jokes with them.  Corny jokes.  Example: "I'm hungry, are you?"  "No, I'm Frank."

Frank began the long goodbye about 8 years ago.  Shirley has shouldered the brunt of his care.  Well, really all of it until she nearly died last fall.  I saw the images of her blocked arteries.  It was close, her doctor said.  So after my mom had triple heart bypass - at age 86 - we made the decision to move our father into a care facility.

And now he has a girlfriend, very normal for folks in my father's condition.  Her name? Shirley!  I kid you not. I haven't met the Other Shirley, but if my mom says she's ok, then she's ok with me.

Hipocrisy times infinity

Ted Nugent.  Wow.  What a guy.  He has bragged about preferring "sex" with underage girls.  He is of course deluded enough to believe getting his freak on as such was A OK, criminal code and plain decency be damned.  It's called  sexual assault, Ted, not sex.  Gross. 

Time and again he shows up here in Texas blathering on about his America this and his Texas that.  You know he's really from Michigan?  

Nugent shares his hallucinations with anyone who will listen.  He talks on and on about people coming to get his guns.  Pure fantasy.

Gubernatorial candidate Greg Abbott chooses this unstable person to introduce him on the campaign trail?  And he's our current state attorney general, the enforcer of laws?  Hypocrisy times infinity. 

Olympic inspiration

Olympic speed skater Emily Scott's story is inspiring.  Her mother is a meth head and hasn't been in her life since she was a young child.  She's now 25 and was raised by a loving father who worked multiple jobs so his daughter could participate in sports.  It was thrilling to watch her compete and see her father in the stands.  She surprised the announcers by blasting into first position and holding it, thus advancing to the medal round, where she placed an impressive 5th.


She inspired me.  I didn't realize how much until last Sunday morning, around 9:30 a.m.  Rush hour at the IHOP.  You know what I mean. 


As we parked in back I could see a few cars pulling in about the same time.  I told Paul to pick up his speed.  Just like Emily.  Rounding the corner, we were in front, just barely, but holding position for sure.  Then, a young woman jumps from a car parked at the front entrance while her vehicle drove off.  Been there done that.  I'm not saying that's cheating exactly. 


I was NOT going to give up.  My competitive instincts, thanks to Ms. Scott, had been stoked. I dug deep.  My short legs made strides not seen this decade (and likely never to be seen again).  Yes, Paul was lagging, but it didn't matter.  First place, gold, was within sight.  Without so much a nudge or an elbow, (because my opponent was that close) I reached for that door and YES!  I got there first!!  


I allowed myself a moment of glory.  Thanks Emily Scott and thanks to your father!!  My senior omelet was my reward.  With turkey sausage.   

Have you blown marshmallow out of your nose?

So last night I loaded my hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.  Loaded.  Slurping through the marshmallow mountain, something weird happened.   Instead of traveling south by way of my throat, the melted marsh detoured by way of my nasal cavity.  I slurped marshmallow UP MY NOSE!  And it hurt!


How do I know this really happened?  (grossness spoiler alert)  I blew snowy white and creamy goodness out of my nose.  I kid you not.


What have I learned from this?  Life is forever unpredictable.  Now I can't wait for someone to ask: Have you blown marshmallow out of your nose?  Why yes, I have.

Sammie lives with old dogs and old people

Our poor Sammie the border collie.  She's 1 year old now and lives with a bunch of old people and old dogs.  We didn't think about that when we got her.  At least I didn't.  It's not really fair to her.


Just this past month I took our 11-year-old beagle, Baxter, to the vet because she had weakness in her hind legs.  The culprit: bad back.  Both Paul and I have that too.  She was given a hefty shot of steroid and 10 days of anti-inflammatory.   Paul takes anti-inflammatories for his hip.


Then Mika, age 10, should be taking anti-inflammatories too.  She is slow to get up after a nap.  Stretching first her front legs, then stretching her back.  Worse, she has lumps and bumps beneath her hide that we pretend are not growing.  The vet told us to watch for that.  We always agree that she is OK.  I do that a lot.  Ignore some signs of my own aging.  Maybe it will go away.  Mika, like me and Paul, is wiped after a visit from the grandkids.


Which brings us back to the pup.  I don't know if we are good for her, but she is good for us.  All four of us oldies.  She patiently waits for us to play ball.  By patient, I mean sits staring at you with her ball until you - dog or human - to play.  Often she gets you to move by nudging ball with her nose - her way of throwing it - and barking at you to get it.  She is "on" all day.  Just open the back door and step one foot out and she already has flown to the farthest point of the backyard before your second foot hits the ground.  She is watching for your next move, which she desperately hopes will include a ball. 


We haven't found her off button, but it miraculously kicks in around 7 every night.  Good thing our off buttons are set at the same time!

Woody Allen doesn't deserve acclaim

My son asked me this week where I stood on the Woody Allen controversy.  Short answer: I think he molested his daughter.


Last week his adopted daughter, now 28, went public for the first time with details about her sexual abuse by Allen when she was a young child.  Her comments were published in a New York Times blog written by a family friend.


A week before that her brother, Allen's bio son, tweeted his disgust at his father's special recognition during the Golden Globes.


I told my son that I believe the victim and that I have not been to a Woody Allen movie since the allegations became public in the early 90s.


I can't get past the part where he admits to having had a relationship with his partner's daughter.  Not his daughter.  However, he had been in this child's life since she was in grade school.  Nude photos of her were found.  He was busted and admitted to the "relationship."  She was under 20 and he was over 50.  His explanation: the heart wants what it wants.


When the relationship was discovered, all hell broke loose.  Its aftermath was dirty and it was public.  Allen fought for custody of his 3 children, including his adopted daughter who made the accusation.  Criminal investigations were conducted.  No charges or convictions were ever filed, but the court did deny Allen visitation rights to his adopted daughter.


He eventually married his children's sister and they adopted 2 children.  He also has gone on to make movies and continue to be beloved, as evidenced by the special award this year.


Apparently all the accolades were too much for many and the past has come back to haunt.


His daughter has changed her name.  There is nothing in it for her to go public at this time in her life.  She is married and has children.  Her actions now are wholly consistent with sexually abused children.  Under the safety and protection of adulthood is when many find the courage to tell their truth.


And I believe her.  I always have.