For Women Fifty and Up: Mall Rats

Introduction

This blog, as you'll see, is new. I've been doing freelance writing on assignment for a few years now, as well as writing in my spare time under a pen name. I don't know yet what - if anything - I'll so with my spare-time writing, but I started a Facebook page, and then I started this blog as a way of having something to link to that Facebook page.

This blog isn't likely to "take a turn for the serious" because I've done more than my share of writing "big, serious," material; as well as (somewhat boring) articles on things like selecting a discount broker or buying a car stereo. I just want this site to be the kind of thing I wouldn't mind running into online - something that women of my generation may find pleasant to read, view, or listen to.

So, pardon the new-ness of this blog. How often I update it depends on how much additional free time I have. If nothing else, I'll keep some music and videos coming.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Mall Rats

Mall Rats

This is a fictional story that's mainly a matter of my own trying to be a playful with creative writing than it is a matter of being a "great" story. Apologies to anyone who takes the time to read it. Sometimes a writer needs to do a little experimenting.

Just A Note

I thought twice (several times, actually) about the name of this blog because I didn't want its focus to be age. After all, our own age isn't our focus in our day-to-day lives (usually). It's a personal blog, but I didn't want to just use my own name in the title, because in the blogging world, using one's own name is considered an "ego title". Also, I wanted it to be something that someone can find if she searches for something like, "for women over fifty". I figured, since I was going to aim to put things on here that my own friends may like I may as well make it "findable" by anyone searching.

So, since blogs usually have a theme, and since I plan to just include "miscellany", I figured the best theme would be related to miscallenous stuff that women in my age range might like.

Just Pondering Television and Movies...

Should old TV shows being made into movies?

When old television shows are turned into new movies it is usually because those shows were successes in their day. While I certainly can't speak for all viewers and movie-goers, I can speak for myself and others who share my sentiments.

What Hollywood often doesn't seem to understand is that successful television shows have a certain combination of elements that cannot be successfully recreated for original viewers; or created anew for a new generation of viewers.

Beloved, old, television shows were that because they had that special combination of actors who, in the eyes of viewers, WERE the characters they played. It was usually the actors who made those characters memorable and likable. It was usually a combination of those actors' acting and their characters, who interacted and fit so well with the other actors/characters, that resulted in a perfectly cohesive and in-sync cast. Beyond the individual acting and characters, and even beyond the interaction of various members of any cast, the most loved television shows usually had a kind of underlying (or between-the-lines) portrayal of the relationship between the characters, even though each week's script may not have put that relationship into the dialog.

The success of television programs is also often tied to the era in which the program is popular. "Leave It To Beaver" (that so-often cited symbol of late 1950's and early 1960's America) was a snapshot of the average American family in the era in which the show was popular. Although, of course, there has always been the cynical segment of the population who always saw programs like that one as "unrealistic"; the fact is many viewers at that time saw it as a reasonable portrayal of the American family. As programs like "Leave It To Beaver" have settled farther and farther back into television (and American) history, however, the preferences and values of viewing audiences have changed. Story lines from earlier eras don't always make good story lines for present-day audiences, but changing the "flavor" of old television shows in order to "update" them for today's audiences simply means making a movie that has little to do with the old television show (other than, perhaps, the names of the characters).

There's also that difficult-to-overcome and ingrained thinking of viewers of old tv shows that can make accepting new actors as old characters pretty much impossible. Jerry Mathers IS Beaver Cleaver, and nobody else can ever be that character. Hannah-Barbera's cartoon-Betty Rubble cannot ever be (ridiculous as this may seem to say) portrayed successfully by any human actor, and Elizabeth Montgomery will always be the only Samantha Stevens in the eyes of those who watched, "Bewitched". (Is Hollywood completely obvlious to the fact that so many faithful viewers of "Bewitched" had such trouble accepting "The New Darren"?)

We all know how, when we've "read the book", the movie "is never as good". It's the same when we've watched the original television programs: The updated, rejuvenated, movie, versions of old television shows just aren't as good (and certainly aren't the same). In fact, viewers of those older programs often think, "Why didn't they just name the characters something new, and call it 'a new movie'?"

Another issue is that viewers of old tv shows are accustomed to the old sets. Most of us are quite familiar with what the offices at "WJM" (The Mary Tyler Moore Show) looked like, and most are well familiar with Mary Richards' apartment (and its famous, "M" on the wall). We don't want a movie with a new "Mary Richards". We don't want to see "Mary Richards" as an elderly lady. We don't want to see "Mary" and "Rhoda" on a two-hour trip to Rome! Neither do we want to see "The Brady Bunch" in a two-hour movie involving Hawaii (and we REALLY don't want to see a new "Marcia" and "Jan").

That special blend of elements that once made any television show what it was, and that often makes re-runs of that show still enjoyed, cannot be recreated in a movie with new actors. What worked "back then" usually wouldn't work today, and changing the dynamics or tone or anything else in order to update the storyline means ignoring the very things that once made any tv show successful and beloved.

Hollywood writers, like most writers of fiction, should feel free to borrow the occasional plot line, character type, or setting; but what made most old tv shows what they were was usually originality - and that is the thing that Hollywood needs to figure out.

Top Ten Sweets (According to Me, Anyway)

I'll be honest. I needed to fill this side of the page, so I thought this might be a kind of fun thing to post here.

As someone who doesn't particularly have a "sweet tooth", I consider myself fairly fussy when it comes to rating sweets. When my children were little we came to describe candies, desserts, and cookies as "sweeties"; although with my demanding standards for sugar-y goodies, I think only the following deserve the affectionate title of "sweeties":

1. French pastries with crystallized sugar "diamonds" on top and fruit inside

These light, puffy, pastries know just how to wear those sugar "diamonds", and the hint of fruit filling seems to give each a personality of its own. While other sweet delights may seem decadent, these sweeties somehow manage to seem absolutely angelic.

2. Chocolate Mousse

This light, puffy, fluffy, dish of chocolate delight is evil, but caring about calories is close to impossible with this dessert. The only negative aspect to chocolate mousse is that is usually comes in a dish that is far too tiny for my taste. As people "ooh", "aah" and "yum", there's often someone who says how rich chocolate mousse is and how "you don't need too much of it". I disagree. One can never have enough of it.

3. Bavarian Cream

Bavarian cream in a pastry, cake, or doughnut may rival chocolate mousse in it's decadence, but everyone should have at least one Bavarian cream "something" every couple of years. It isn't necessary to look for a particularly fancy bakery to find that perfect Bavarian cream delight. Your local Dunkin Donuts has a Bavarian cream doughnut just waiting for you to finally give in and ask for that special something to go along with your coffee.

4. Cream Puffs

It has been about ten years since I've had a cream puff, but don't let that fool you into believing I haven't been thinking about one (occasionally at least) since then. While there's no need to find a fancy bakery in order to find some good Bavarian cream, the only place to find a good cream puff is a fancy and excellent bakery. I think I'm going to plan to get a good cream puff in 2009. It's time.

5. High-quality Chocolate Truffles

These are the chocolate mousse of candies - only with a hard shell. Dark chocolate is good. Light chocolate is also good. Both dark and light chocolate is the best. It's only natural that the person who loves chocolate mousse would love this candy version of it. There's nothing like a high-quality chocolate with a surprise inside. If you've heard that eating too many of these amazing goodies will make you sick, don't believe it. Trust me. I know. All they do is make you feel great and happy, happy, happy.

6. Cheesecake With or Without Topping

This rich and classic dessert is never difficult to find and is always good, even when it's not of the highest quality. In fact, higher quality cheesecake is often too "cream-cheesy", while more run-of-the-mill versions are always, in my opinion, just right. Strawberries as topping happen to my favorite, although some folks apparently find chocolate a nice addition.

7. Anything Butterscotch

Butterscotch is one of my favorite flavors; and butterscotch pudding knows how to spread that flavor out beyond just the surface of a tiny, hard, candy. With the addition of milk, it's a milder, softer, butterscotch that's less sugary than it is creamy and butterscotch-y.

Butterscotch ice cream follows butterscotch pudding in my eyes, particularly if it has butterscotch candy bits through it.

Butterscotch bars follow butterscotch ice cream, and butterscotch candies follow the bars - although I don't want to work that hard to get my butterscotch. That's why pudding is best.

8. Custard

Custard in pies, custard in a little dish. custard with or without nutmeg. All custard is good custard, unless it's watery (in which case, I would want to trade it in for butterscotch pudding).

9. Hot Fudge Sundaes.

This may not be the most imaginative sweetie in the world, but this classic mix of hot, chocolate, syrup; cold vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, nuts, and (of course) a cherry is yet another treat that should be indulged in at least every few years. Of course, just the ice cream and hot fudge is good. So is just the hot fudge and the whipped cream. Then, too, the whipped cream alone is another fine dessert (or occasional meal, I must admit). (I think I may plan to get that cream puff in April and then a hot fudge sundae in July of next year. Yes, that's my plan. 2010 should not arrive without my having those two treats before it does.)

10. Brownies from a Mix

There are brownies from bakeries, brownies made from scratch, and pre-wrapped brownies sold in convenience stores and elsewhere; but there's nothing like brownies from a mix. The brand of mix doesn't matter. They're all good. The only reason I don't have brownies from a mix more often (at all, to be honest) is that they make your arm tired when mix them. If they stirred up like cake mix does I'd be more tempted to pick up a mix with my groceries, but they're just a little too much effort for my taste. This is just as well, of course, because if I weren't too lazy to mix up that stiff brownie batter I'd have brownies from a mix all the time (and probably eat most of them myself). They say God works in mysterious ways. I think He made brownie mix stiff and hard to stir to keep me from turning brownies into my "daily bread".

Oh - I don't happen to be Catholic, but if I were I think I should go to confession after spending so much time thinking about all these sweeties. Before I began listing the top ten sweeties I don't think I was aware that I am capable of so many sinful thoughts in such a short time. (Bless me, Father. I think there is the distinct possibility I've sinned and am headed somewhere other than Heaven after all these thoughts. Oh wait - if I do get that cream puff in April, and that sundae in July, it would seem I'll be visiting Heaven at least twice next year.)

Thinking About the Future

The future is a funny thing. When it is the future it is a mysterious, blank, expanse of time before us that holds the promises of dreams fulfilled and a life perfected. Once any point in our future turns from being part of our future to part of our present, however, we often discover that what was once the future holds no more mystique, mystery, or magic than any part of our past ever has. I have my own theory about how we view the future; and from what I think I've observed (in myself and others), I believe people often generally view the future as follows:

When we are young enough that our future is a vast, unknown, expanse before us; and our our past consists of a very few years; thinking about the future is a matter of either having trouble imagining it, or imagining our perfect future and believing it will become reality. The younger we are, the more difficulty we tend to have even imagining what our future will be.

I can actually recall being a very small child and wondering what kind of woman I would "turn into" once I was grown up. The concept that I would still be the same person (only bigger and older) wasn't one I grasped. The idea that my future face and hair would pretty much be the face and hair I had at the time eluded me. Even once I got to an age where I feared having my parents die, when they (fortunately) didn't die young I viewed my future as one in which I would have them forever. Children have neither the knowledge nor the experience to bring much valid information into their dreams of the future, and so, for children, the future can be either a blank, white, page or a water-color, idyllic, dream. Children often don't think of the future much beyond their next birthday. With all that, however, children may often feel quite certain that the future will be better than the present. The song, "Tomorrow," from Annie expresses that common childhood belief (sometimes hope) that tomorrow will be better (of "even better") than today.

Birthdays, for kids, are defining things and play a large role in a child's view of his past and future. As a child grows closer to those birthdays that mark the milestones associated with getting closer to being an adult, children and teens often think of the future in terms of the 16th, 18th, and 21st birthdays (each of which marks the 1-2-3 steps toward becoming "officially" grown up). When the 21st birthday lies with reach it is often viewed as the dividing line between not being an adult and being one, and it can seem as if the future is as close as that dividing line.

In the late teens and early twenties, grown-up realities tend to creep up and around the young person and create the feeling that at least small bits of the future are finally becoming part of the present. People this age may no longer see the future as a blank, white, page or an idyllic dream. They may be more likely to view it as an extension of the almost grown-up reality in which they live. For teens and young adults, who often feel as if they're approaching the finish line of dependence on parents, the future may no longer seem like an abstract, hard-to-imagine, thing. People of this age can feel as if they have finally reached an imaginary pile of building blocks that will make up their future. It can seem as if all that needs to be done is use those blocks to build the foundation for the future - and from there, just head on into that perfectly constructed future.

The twenties are often a time of particular focus on living in the present, even though the task of building a future remains. The thirties aren't much different, although, just as teens begin to see their immediate future come more into focus, people in their thirties have seen yet more of a once imagined future come into clear focus. People this age have enough past, and have reached "enough future", to be better able to see that, in ways, the future doesn't change who we are very much. People this age have a better grasp on a more realistic concept of "future". If they sensible and able they may concentrate on preparing for their, and their family's future, by focusing on financial stability, college savings plans, and having a home the grandchildren can inherit.

Because people in their thirties often have children, they not only have a tendency to have a pragmatic approach to the future, they often develop a particular appreciation of the past. A person in his thirties often sees particularly clearly the link between the past and the future, and an appreciation of the past may extend beyond the person's own life and into history. When the mother in her thirties saves a sugar bowl her mother gave her it isn't just a matter of keeping a reminder of the past. She may be thinking about how her great, great, grandchildren may appreciate discovering such an item in an attic trunk.

Having children usually makes people think not just about their own future, but about the future of their children and grandchildren, as well as the future of the world in which they will live.

People in their forties may think about the future in ways very similar to the ways people in their thirties do. The difference may be that the fortieth birthday can make a person aware that he is, without a doubt, at a point in life where the number of years in the past may be equal to, or greater than, the number of years in the future. While young children may see the future as something as close as their next birthday or as distant as another universe, people in their forties may view the future as "the next twenty-five years", while avoiding thinking about the years that will follow if all goes well.

Although all people have different life experiences at one point or another in their lives, and although some have more "kicks in the head" than others, people in their forties have generally had enough life experience and loss to have begun to view the future as frightening. On the one hand, people in this age range usually think pragmatically about the future, while also having hopes and dreams for their own. On the other hand, there can be times when it seems necessary to squash all thoughts of the future if ominous thoughts of it have found their way into a person's consciousness.

It can seem as if as the expanse of future left to live shrinks, and as the number of "kicks in the head" in the past accumulate, the future turns from seeming like a dream into seeming like little more than an extension of the present. Those "kicks in the head" (otherwise known as "realities of life") have a way of showing us how the future we once viewed as dream-like or perfect turned out to be far colder than we ever would have imagined. With more real-life under our belt and a future that doesn't extend nearly as far out as it once did, thinking about the future can seem impractical or pointless sometimes. People who has passed their fiftieth birthday already have half a century of past under the their belt. While it is true there's a good chance they could be exactly at the mid-point of a 100-year life (people over 50 often need to believe that), a half century of passing from one present into each phase of future can make it seem very clear that no future is ever more magical or perfect as any present or past. Of course, the hope that tomorrow will be better (or "even better") is always there; but a half century of wonderful or terrible past (or a combination of both) can take up one's thought processes enough that thinking about the unknown may take a back seat. Even so, a surprising thing can be that the person who has noticed how differently he views the future usually still has that hope that tomorrow will be better (or "even better").

As maturity sets in more and more, maybe we get an increasing awareness of the importance of thinking about, and living in, the present. After all, we have brought our past with us into our present. All that life and living can mean one plate is more than full.

As more and more presents turn into pasts, and more and more future turns into present (and then pasts), it can become clear that there's sometimes (not always) not a lot of point in thinking about the future because, whether we like it or not, the future comes to us and brings what it will. Some of those building blocks we put together when we were young have proved to be a solid foundation for the future that has closed in on us. Others may have knocked out place when life decided we would not have the luxury of having our best laid plans left in tact.

In maturity we learn that some parts of a future can turn out to be filled with loss and horror. Then again, we learn that some parts of a future can turn out to be just as we planned. We learn, too, that futures can bring to us a wholeness that we would never have imagined back when futures were always viewed as wonderful and dream-like. We may learn that we don't really care that our future has become smaller than it once was, because we have our present and past that have been so much more whole than any imagined future could ever be. Something else we learn is that even with all those "kicks in the head", we somehow still often have that hope we've had since childhood. When we have reached maturity, we no longer have such trouble imagining what's left of our future. We may, however, choose not to think about some of what we do imagine.

Of all the things my once-futures have revealed and taught me, I have to say that one lesson is surprisingly most memorable, and that is this: When I was a very little girl, spending so much time, wondering what kind of person I'd "turn into" in the future, I would look at pretty actresses on television and wonder if I'd look like them. They could be light skinned or dark skinned. Some had light hair. Some had dark hair. Some had blue eyes. Others didn't. Some were extremely tall. Others were petite. I didn't understand that my coloring, skeleton, and facial features were unlikely to change (without cosmetic surgery and chemicals); so I imagined I could "turn into" any number of types of women. What the future held for me was certainly a magical mystery to me.

Little did I know that decades later I would look in the mirror and see the exact same face, coloring, and hair that I saw back when I was three or four. It's an older face, but it's the same face. The hair is older hair; but, much to my dismay, it's pretty much the same fine, straight, light brown hair that I couldn't stand even back when I was three or four. I'm still the same person I was back then. I just know more now and have less future ahead of me.

The lesson I learned about thinking about the future is that futures are unravelled minute by minute, and aren't really all that mysterious. We neither turn into different people nor abandon the selves we once were. As presents turn to pasts and futures turn to presents, it is we who bring the continuity to the process of the passage of time. When we do what we can to lay that foundation for our future we enhance that continuity, even though we can't control what the future which bring.

That little girl I used to be once believed that when I reached my twenty-first birthday I'd magically turn into someone who looked like Natalie Wood, Grace Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, or any number of other actresses I knew because I had paper dolls with their names. That little girl viewed the future as mysterious and magical and nothing but wonderful. Now I know that futures are nothing more than presents that haven't happened yet, and that futures sometimes bring things that are far from wonderful. Still, as I sit here at my PC (not looking the least bit like Grace Kelly), I'm kind of glad to have learned that futures aren't about bippity-boppity-boo, magic wand, transformations; and are, instead, of having these same two grounded feet under me regardless of how time changes what is around me.

I have lived a good part of the future of that little girl who once couldn't imagine it. As I ponder the matter of thinking about the future, I kind of wish I could travel back in time and tell that little girl how even though her future didn't turn out to always be easy, it turned out to be pretty good. I'd like to tell her, too, that even if she didn't magically turn into someone who looked liked Grace Kelly; the continuity of having journeyed, one step at a time, into her future would help keep her from getting lost at those times when her journey became difficult.

Planning for the future is always a good idea. Worrying about it usually isn't ever a good idea. Dreaming about it may be more for the young than anyone else. Tucking away into memory former futures that have turned into pasts is, as we all learn, part of life.