A Hair Trick #1 How to Absorb Less Chlorine

     Page Two Hundred Seventy.
     I really should have posted this trick at the beginning of summer, but, oh... well.
     The next time you go into a swimming pool, pre-wet your hair with tap water. Hair is like a sponge. It can only absorb so much liquid. If you pre-wet it with non-chlorinated water, then it can only absorb so much of the chlorinated. And there you go... less damage and less weird metallic-green color. If you live in the pool, you'll still have some weird color, but less.
 

The Bugatti Atlantic

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Nine.

     This blog entry REALLY has nothing to do with anything. But, that's okay.
     I was recently asked which piece of art in the world I wish I could own and keep in my living room. After thinking for a few minutes, I replied a Bugatti Atlantic. Commonly regarded as one of the most beautiful cars ever made, 3 are known to exist and if 1 went for sale tomorrow, it would bring $40,000,000 or more.

     And if I had one, I most DEFINITELY would keep it in my living room.
     By the way, the Bugatti in these photos in owned by Ralph Lauren and has won numerous awards at car shows. I've been blessed to see it in person at it was in the Cleveland Museum of Art in the late '90's for a Bugatti retrospective. 

Knute Rockne All American - A review

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Eight.

     Guess what movie I recently watched? If you guessed 1940's Knute Rockne All American, You're correct. My review? Here goes:
     It's really pretty good. But I LOVE sports movies, just love 'em. I don't typically enjoy watching sports on TV, but in movies? Can't get enough.The reason why is because sports flicks are always and I mean ALWAYS sentimental. And as I've written before, it's impossible for anything to be too sentimental for my taste. I believe sports movies are mushy because that particular brand of goo gives stereotypical, rough and tumble sports jocks an outlet to feel and express deep emotion. But no matter. I try not to judge.
     So then you toss is Ronald Reagan uttering his famous "win one for the Gipper". Yes indeedy, this is the movie which gave us that quote. Could the 1980's have existed without that line? I honestly don't think so. Regardless of how one may feel about Reagan, he was a thoroughly unexciting and unconvincing actor, which makes this film even more charming. One thing which did surprise me though is the shortness of RR's screen time. I bet we didn't see him but for five minutes. History would have us believe that he was s true co-star, which he wasn't.
     Pat O'Brien in the lead role isn't bad, allowing for the hamminess of that era's acting style, of course. (These were the days prior to "method acting" which is what modern audiences are used to.) All in all, it really is an entertaining flick.
     My review: 6/10

Fruit Salad Tricks

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Seven.
     Making a fruit salad soon? I have a trick for you which will push your concoction over the top.
     First make a little marinade consisting of a little bit of hot water, say 1/4 cup or so. I don't now really, but that sounds about right. Then add a little vanilla extract, almond extract and some white table sugar. Stir this for a moment and pour over your fruit. Let it marinate for a bit and enjoy.  
     Also, if you add some unexpected things to your salad it will be gobbled up like there's no tomorrow. Specifically, add some chopped dates; flaked, sweetened coconuts; and some chopped walnuts.

Quito. Chapter 16. Getting Home.

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Six.
     Wanda led Quito through the tiny door in the corner and up the small steps to the outside and into the bright, yellow sunshine.
     "Oh pish-posh, I don't believe this", Quito howled while looking around. He was in the beautiful, vivid, green side yard of the three brothers, next door to his own home. This entire time he was never more than 50 yards from the safe haven of his own hacienda. No wonder the odor was so distinctive. It was the same lemon-powered cleaning product they used. Or at least they used everywhere but in their basement which we've already established is an absolute disaster.
     "Your hideout is in their basement? Didn't they know you and your gang of hoodlums were down there?
     "No they didn't. Menatally, those three are out to lunch. While they've been renovating and re-renovatng their home for all these years, they never noticed the work I've been doing to clear out one room in their basement. My gang and I excavated the small steps and emptied then cleaned out that one area of their dungeon. We did all the work at night, by the light of the silvery moon." Wanda seemed very proud of herself.
     "You know, you're really a piece of work. If you put half as much energy into being nice as you do into being a menace to society, well... just imagine all the people you could help. With all your money, brains and energy you could donate to finding cures for illnesses, you could create scholarships to help children who can't afford school, you could help feed and clothe homeless people, you could do so many things to help this planet. But what do you do? You build a secret hideout with all this bizarre equipment to transport me to a parallel universe, which, by the way, I still need to hear the story of. "  Quito just couldn't get over her nerve.
     "Look here Quito, not everybody has had the breaks you have. Some of us had to resort to trickery just to survive. Don't ever judge someone 'till you've had to walk in their leash. Okay, fine. I'll admit that maybe I'm a little too evil sometimes. But that's no reason to accuse me of not caring for others. In fact, and, I'm surprised you didn't get this while you were mind probing me, I've set up an attractive retirement pension for all my hench-poodles and everybody else who works in my dental clinics. Not only that, but also every year I give all my employees a free case of turkey burgers at Thanksgiving and a gift card for $102.73 at Sunoco at Christmas. That's a lot more than many employers give out now-a-days. I know stories of great employees who get fired or who are forced to quit jobs just prior to receiving pension eligibility only because their companies want to save money from going to retirees. I don't do that. I'm an ethical employer. Why didn't you see that while you were violating my privacy with your ESP? HUH? So don't keep going on about my ruthless ways, you judgmental mongrel. You need to come down off your high horse a little" There was lightening and thiunder in her bark.
     Wanda was furious with what she saw as a double standard and she let him know it. She was more than happy to admit when she was being an evil, female dog, but she also wanted her credit too.
     Now, it was Quito's time to feel like a bad dog. "Sorry. I apologize." But he had no sincerity in his voice at all. Seems like our furry hero had a little problem with lack of humility. He thought he was perfect.
     Then they started screaming, fighting and howling at one another.
     "Look you num-nuts..."
     "Why you gopher nose..."
     "Don't even go there, bonehead..."
     "You monkey butt, you..."
     Then, in the middle of all this loud and ridiculous name-calling, which, quite frankly, wasn't getting anybody anywhere, "Quito! There you are!!! Good dog. Good dog." It was Judd. He was standing on the beige, sandstone terrace adjacent to his breakfast room, holding an antique parfait glass full of the best-looking fruit salad on the planet. It was rainbow-colored and even from the distance he was from the dogs, they could smell the luscious sweetness. It was topped with whipped cream and that white lusciousness set off the colors of the contents beautifully.
     Both dogs bounded the 10 feet over to Judd with tongues and tales wagging, hoping for morsels and treats. They seemed to forget that they were in the middle of a blow-out. Treats do that to a dog. (And some people.)
Continued next week... Chapter 17. The Reunion.

No, I'm Not That Old

     Two Hundred Sixty-Five.
     The other day, I was working in the museum when Harry and Sara walked by. I was their children's babysitter while in my late teens, prior to me being a live-in nanny. This was in the late '70's or early '80's. Sara was walking hand in hand with Jeffrey, her grandson. Mary and Christy are now how ever old they are, early 30's? When I worked with them, they were... well, Mary was a toddler and Christie was a newborn. And now Mary is a mommy herself.
     We all never completely lost track of each other through the years, but those are separate stories. I just looked at Sara and said, "No. This isn't possible."
     She replied, "Yes, it is". 
     I attempted to explain to little Jeffrey that when his mommy was his size, I was her babysitter. He kind of understood. I understand that I'm not that old.

An Emergency With A Twelve Year Old

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Four.
     About 5 years ago, I began nannying two pre-teen boys. At the time, they were about 8 and 11 or so. I picked them up from school, drove them to various appointments, then brought them home and sometimes made dinner, 2 or 3 X per week. At the end of the first year, Mom decided she didn't need me anymore, seeing the boys get older. So she graciously let me go.
     Boys went on strike until Jeremy was reinstated. So he was. That school year, I was there about 2 X per week. Then, Mom let me go at the end of that school year. Again, boys rebelled. Again Mom re-instated me "on call". That satisfied the boys. I've been on call ever since.
     Let's be honest. Sometimes, you simply need and extra set of hands. Even if you work from home, or have 2 parents in the home. You occasionally just need an additional person. So she'd phone me, knowing that I had other jobs and may or may not be able to help out. The last couple of years, I've helped them out  2-4 X per year.
     About 1&1/2 years ago, I even attended grandparents day at school, so Eli wouldn't feel left out. (Grandparents could be replaced by parents or any other important person in the child's life. Neither parent could make it. So Eli thought of me, and Mom phoned. Who am I to say no to that?)
     So, a month ago, Mom phoned and explained that she was catching a plane to North Carolina at 5PM on a day a couple of weeks later, while ex-husband was due back at 6PM from Philadelphia on that same day. Would I pick-up Eli at 4PM from day camp, hang out, go for dinner and drop him off at Dad's when he got home about 7? (Meanwhile, Max, the 16 year old brother, is away at camp for the summer, so he isn't part of the equation.) Of course I would. Great.
     Mom phones the morning of and says she's catching an earlier flight. Would I pick up Eli at 3? Sure.
     I pick him up and he's thoroughly confused by my early arrival, but gets over it quickly. We drive home to Chagrin Falls, watch The Howling which I've brought with me, (my rating: 4/10)  and begin thinking about food for dinner. Then all heck breaks loose. I begin getting texts concerning Dad's delayed flight. Seems some pesky storm is grounding flights. (Those storms have some type of nerve, don't they?) Both parents are concerned and I tell Eli what's going on. He's not too upset. Then, we go for dinner.
     There's an Italian place near Eli's homes where neither one of us has ever been. So we go there. He has Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken which is very good and I get the Chicken Marsala which is wonderful. Dad phones again saying it's not looking good. Mom phones again, frantic. I remind both parents that I was a live-in nanny for 10 years for two different families. Between 2 pre-school girls and 3 adolescent boys, there's no childhood emergency that I've not already encountered. This may be new territory for them, but not for me. So what if my 3 hour stint turns into 20? If I did have plans I'd change them. Eli's top priority now. That soothes both of them tremendously.
     Eli and I go get some ice cream and walk around gorgeous, downtown Chagrin Falls, Ohio. We have great fun. We go to CVS so I can purchase a toothbrush, some floss and some razors 'cause it looks like I'll be staying over. We go back home and watch Attack Of The Giant Leeches, another DVD I've brought with me (my rating: 2/10) and find out that, indeed, I will be staying the night.
     Eli's a smidgeon anxious, but really, not much. I stay in his room while he falls asleep and all is right with the world. I sleep in Mom's room and watch TV from bed which, for me, is a luxury. At 11.30, Max phones to say "hi Mom". Boy is he surprised to hear my voice.
     Next morning, I wake up way too early and begin making preparations for French Toast. I wake up Eli at a civilized hour, he comes downstairs and while waiting for me to whip up breakfast, step-mom phones from Paris where she's seeing the sites with 2 of her 3 adult children. They talk for a while. Then he comes and has his morning meal. He's quite happy with my fare (add vanilla extract and cinnamon to your egg/milk mixture the next time you do French Toast. It's wonderful. Also heat up the syrup. It will elicit squeals of delight.)
     Mom phones me during breakfast to say that dad drove in to Cleveland from Philly, arriving in Chagrin Falls about 5 or 6AM. Who knows when I'm off the clock? He'll phone me upon consciousness and then I'll drop of his youngest child.    
     He phones at 10. It all works out fine. When the dust clears, both parents were very grateful. I was glad to help. 
     I'll tell you what else. A few years ago when Max had his Bar Mitzvah, Mom had to REALLY lobby to get me invited. Dad and step-mom didn't quite grasp how fond their boys were of me. In a coupe of months,when Eli steps up and becomes a man in the eyes of his religion, I'll bet you a million dollars, I'll be invited with no hesitation.