Let me revisit a topic that I wrote about a while back.  Sometimes, advertising seems to take a premise a bit too far.  So far, in fact, that it doesn’t make any sense at all.  The medication adverts are the worst (in my opinion) for this taking-things-too-far phenomena. The one that gets me the most is the one for a little blue pill to help in the “romance” department.  The commercials for these always showed a couple painting, or gardening, or unloading groceries and then they share…a “look.” The next thing you know, the two of them are each ensconced in a bathtub – close enough to hold hands, and usually in a field near a pond. 

               Okay, first of all, those of us at a certain age are not exactly thinking about romance when gardening, painting, or grocery shopping.  Usually, we’re thinking of (a) how many steps we’re getting and/or (b) how soon we’ll be done and sit and have a drink.  Secondly, there’s nothing romantic about sitting in separate bathtubs, regardless of the view.  And finally, as I’ve mentioned before, where’s the water in those tubs coming from?  Or are they just sitting in the tubs fully clothed for ambiance?  Because the effort it would require to get in and out of a claw foot tub would erase any romantic thoughts I had for sure!  And for heaven’s sake, sitting in a field?  Near a pond?  Slather on the bug cream, please.  There’s romance for you!

               I was thinking about this the other day because I was sitting in an office watching their television while I waited for an appointment.  The television could have had auto repair shows running (like they do at AAA), or home remodeling shows (as my wonderful dentist does), but no, they had ads for hearing aids.  Well, to be fair, it was an ear, nose, and throat doctor’s office, so that made sense.  What did not make sense was that the volume was on very, very low.  So, if I had a hearing loss, I would have been able to see the pictures of the various products, but not hear a word about them.  Hey, here’s an idea, why not advertise for hearing aids on the radio?  I bet they do, but I wouldn’t know, because I can’t hear it!

               That made me think of all the money people spend on vanity license plates.  I get that – it’s fun to say CMPR GAL on your license plate if you love to camp.  Or 4 OSU if you’re a Buckeye fan.  Those let everyone know what you’re all about and well worth the extra ten bucks a year.  I know I’m always excited to see SCCR MOM around town. 

               What doesn’t make sense is spending that extra money every year for a personalized license plate that only makes sense to YOU.  I mean, what’s the point? Why spend the money for something that nobody understands?

               But this isn’t a new thing.  I remember watching many a commercial on television when I was growing up that showed the exciting and amazing colors you could see on color TV sets.  We didn’t have a color TV set, of course, so I was watching those ads on a big old black-and-white set.  So I had to just imagine what a color TV would be like.  I mean they must have spent a lot of money for those commercials, which aired on mostly black and white televisions.  So… again, the point? 

               On the other hand, everyone who has a television now, has a color one, right?  So I guess the advertising paid off – 60 years later!

My husband and I play a word game together nearly every day.  We do this with a television show that we watch, and take turns giving the clues while we pause the show.  Then we watch to see how the celebrities and actual contestants do, compared with our success. 

               It passes a half hour during breakfast quite nicely and we have a lot of laughs about some of the words and some of the clues – both ours and the ones on the show.

               Last week, my dearest husband had a lot of laughs – and all of them at my expense.  But, truthfully, he was justified.  I was pretty confused.

               It all started with the word “inflatable.” I was giving the clues and told him it was “pool toy, blow up.”  He guessed “inflate,” “inflates,” “inflated,” and – after my frantic head nodding – “inflation.” It was beyond me to come up with any additional ways to help him (because I didn’t think of saying “Cain’s brother”), so we didn’t get that round. I had run out of time.

When it was my turn to give clues the second time, the words were simply absurd.  First of all, I had to get him to say “expiration date.”  It took me about ten words (which is nearly all you get), but I finally got it.  The very next clue was “Radiohead.”

               Well, duh.  I don’t even know what that is.  Someone who holds a boom box on their shoulder?  A square-headed person?

               I finally came up with, “television cabeza.”

               And he got it!!

               It was his turn next, and the second word he was trying to get me to say was the word, “rodeo.”  His  clue was “Calgary Stampede.”  Hmmm. 

               I started to guess by saying, “Is that where Jesus died?”  He shook his head, with a very puzzled look on his face.

               Then he added the clue, “horses.”  It was my turn to look befuddled.

And then he said, “bulls.”

               That didn’t help me at all.  There were horses and bulls at the cross?  Where were they hiding that tidbit in Sunday School?  I think I stumped my hubby with my guesses of “Jesus,” “crucify,” and “cross.”  He finally got out “this isn’t my first ____!”

               That’s when I finally said “rodeo,” just as time was running out.  But I was confused.  So I asked him what a rodeo had to do with anything in the Bible.

               Matt explained to me that the Calgary Stampede was a rodeo and that the place where Jesus was crucified is called “Calvary.”

               “Calvary?” I echoed, puzzled.  “I thought that was the army infantry.”

               “No,” he explained patiently, “that’s “CAValry.  CALvary is the crucifixion site.”

               Normally, I’m pretty good with words and when playing word games.  But I was totally flummoxed that day and we laughed all the way through the championship round.  Which, by the way, included the word “hunch.”  I had a hunch we weren’t going to get that one, either.

Over the last ten years or so – possibly more – I’ve heard and read a lot of comments about the “younger” generation.  According to many reports and opinions, these young people (mostly millennials) have a different work ethic, a different view of life, and different values. Many times, I’ve heard comments to the effect that the world is going downhill quickly and it’s the fault of this “younger generation.”

               Well, I’m living testimony that this is simply not true.  At least, not in my world.  The younger generation (the ones we raised, by the way), do have different work ethics and different values.  They don’t stay in one career for their entire work lifetime.  But wherever they do work, they do their very best work for the paycheck.  That’s a good work ethic, I think.

               Yes, they were born with technology in their hands.  They wield a keyboard or a phone like we used to handle our 8-track stereos.  All confidence, all speed, and pretty smug.

               There’s a new phenomenon that is pretty disturbing, however.  It’s so prevalent that there’s even a name for it – phubbing.  Phubbing is the behavior of snubbing the person you are having lunch or coffee with by attending to your phone.  We’ve all seen this – and likely made fun of it.  People sitting across from each other, each on their phones, staring down and typing madly while not speaking to each other at all.

               But let’s not blame the younger generations for this.  Last week, I went to lunch, a different place for coffee, and the next day out to dinner.  At all three, separate locations, I saw a number of couples phubbing.  These people, however, were at least my age.  They weren’t the younger generation at all – they were people who “supposedly” have better values and more manners.

               Huh.  And let me also just say that watching this made me think of the time I was in high school and my mother wore a pair of hip-hugger bell-bottom pants.  I was embarrassed and distressed. 

               I suspect our children are embarrassed and distressed by our phubbing.  We barely know how to use our phones correctly and have “apps” we don’t understand, but we have that phone in our hand like it’s a life-alert device.  Hey, maybe it is.

               But it was that last dinner out that reinforced my faith in the younger generation.  I was with a friend at a Waffle House and a young couple (mid-twenties) came in and asked the few of us there, “Who has the Buick?”    

               It took me a second to realize that was me.  When I finally responded, the young man came closer and said, sincerely, “I’m so sorry.  I backed into your car and I think there’s a dent in your bumper.”

               He was so apologetic.  I went and looked at the car, and sure enough, under the salt and dirt, was a small indentation.  The paint wasn’t even scratched.  Still, he appeared distressed.  He kept saying, “I thought I’d run over a cup.”

               Finally we all returned inside and after assuring him that I was only glad no one was hurt, I resumed my conversation with my friend and finished my eggs and cheese (so good).

               When we went to leave, we found our bill had been paid.  The young couple had paid for our meals and left without another word. 

               Honesty.  Concern.  Restitution. If those are examples of the values of the younger generation, I think we’re in good hands.

This was the twelfth year that we have taken three days in February and met two other couples in a state park for a mid-winter retreat.  Last year, 2021, was an adventure in a different way, thanks to the global pandemic.  Each of the six of us was quarantined for 10 days prior to the trip and maintained at least 6 feet away from each other while indoors.

               Still, thanks to the many walking trails and the wonderful size of the cabin, it wasn’t too much of a challenge and was a great time.

               Each year we go, we share a new adventure.  The first year was perhaps the strangest.  We were in a state park deep in West Virginia.  This park had a large field adjacent to our cabin and once you had walked through it you entered an immense forest.

               After walking about a half mile into this forest, I started noticing some disquieting things.  What I noticed was nothing.  I mean, absolutely nothing.  There were no birds tweeting or flying around.  There were no squirrels rustling.  No deer were seen, not even tracks.  There was simply no sound at all, save those of our footfalls and chatting.

               This started to bother me, as I am one of the oldest of the group and was – at that time – the plumpest.  If something awful in this forest was plucking off the living creatures, I was pretty sure I’d be the first to go.  After all, the group didn’t have to outrun the beast – just me!  And I was positive I was the slowest.

               We hiked another mile or so, and then, thankfully, found the main road.  We made it back safely (obviously, or I wouldn’t be relating this tale) to the cabin. 
               The haunted woods bothered me, though, and still puzzles me.  We have since found other state parks which have woods filled with sounds.  This is a comfort.

               I thought that was the strangest adventure we might have had until this year.  Fully vaccinated, we all arrived at the designated cabin and had a grand first evening.  However, on the second evening, only three of us stayed up to chat and nibble.  We gathered around the counter in the kitchen when we heard the first sound of something  by the refrigerator.  As the bravest of us went to investigate, he saw a mouse run across the floor and under the stove.

               We pulled the refrigerator away, and there was a second mouse, unperturbed by our light and noise, eating something out of a box.  We deduced this was some kind of trap, but it didn’t seem to be effective.  You’d have thought, from our behavior, that we were expecting to see moose or beavers behind the fridge.  We were that brave and that hysterical.

               So the next morning, two of our group went to town and bought mouse traps.  We set three of them out and within a couple of hours, we had successfully rid the cabin of three mice.  Later that evening, as we played games and drank margaritas, the traps snapped again.  And again.  And much later, again.

               Six mice in all. Now, it’s winter in the Midwest and obviously, mice try to come inside.  But we’d never had them before!  In twelve years, I’ve snapped photos of deer, squirrels, raccoons, chipmunks, and even a fox.  But we never saw or heard a mouse in any cabin we’ve rented.

               We left the cabin rodent-free. And no, I didn’t take a photo of any of the living mice.