Rants by Rochelle

Sometimes, and by sometimes I mean for about seven months out of the year, I hate living in the Berkshires. It's August 16th and it is freezing out! C'mon, it's August for crying out loud. I do not belong here in the mountains. I belong by the ocean. When I die I want my ashes sprinkled into the Atlantic. Am I being too subtle? Can I be more clear about my feelings? What in the world has kept us here in the cold for all these years? Damn!

So I watched the rest of that wacko movie "No Country for Old Men." Words escape me. Let me just say this: had to go on the internet to read what in the world this movie was about. Rod and I watched it. We agreed. Why? Why was this movie made and why was it such a blockbuster hit? Enough said on that.

Have not watched even one second of The Olympics. Don't care. Ushered a play at Williamstown Theater Festival which I do with Ange every year. During the show this lady's cell phone goes off. IDIOT! Ange says she believes the lady had been drinking. Uh? Yeah? People are so stupid sometimes. I mean you are going out for the evening so turn your phone off when you step out of your car. Then this lady behind us is munching out on peanuts or something which, while "against the rules," was bearable until she tosses the wrapper on the floor of the theater. I mean really! I have no tolerance for some things. These people are all dressed up and it costs almost $60 for a ticket to the show. You would think they would have a little class.

I think I am a bit wound up today. End of summer does that to me.

The Big Winner by Rochelle

So when I was a "kid" (oh, geez, not one of those stories), no really, the saying was that you had a better chance of being kidnapped by terrorists than winning the lottery. Yeah, well we don't say that so much anymore.

However, the point is that some things are so random that the chances of them happening to you are barely worth mentioning. So when they DO happen to you what do you do? Do you say, gee, maybe this is a sign and I should go buy a lottery ticket? Am I one of the chosen people? (Oh, wait, I am Jewish....) So let me explain.

I have this back issue. Very long, boring, sad tale. There has been surgery, endless injections, physical therapy, MRI's, and more injections. There is the suggestion of more surgery (NO!!!), endless pain medication which is not fun when it is for pain, and most recently something called radio-heat therapy. This procedure was supposed to use heat to deaden the nerves that cause the pain and thereby relieve me of my pain for possibly a year (give or take). I was considered a great candidate. I was hopeful, excited, didn't care about the day I had to take off from work, the $250 co-pay, the pain of the procedure.

Nobody even told me of the possibility that it could end up causing me more pain. That was how remote the possibility was! Less than 5% which I found out on my own off the Internet. Less than 5% and of that even less of a chance for lower back which is what I have. So like the random lottery player, I was the big winner here. My pain is far worse.

When I called the doctor's office the nurse said, "Oh, yeah, sometimes that happens." I get to see the doctor this week. Can't wait.

Last night Rod and I finally decided to watch "No Country for Old Men." I was the big hold out when it was in theaters because I was afraid it was going to be too violent and give me nightmares. Really. Some stuff just stays with me and I can't deal. Like hurting animals... can't see or read that kind of thing. Anyhow, I kept wavering on whether to see it or not and finally it was out of theaters and we stopped caring. We do that with movies all the time. OK, so we start watching at 11 o'clock and it is over two hours long. What does it say about me that I can fall asleep in the middle of a movie filled with nothing but random, heartless killing? You see, this is why you need to see a movie early on. I know the psycho killer is really this good-looking French actor who took his mother to the Academy Awards. I know the ending is going to be weird and that people were disappointed. Basically, I know too much. Whatever, I will watch the rest this afternoon and see if I "understand" the ending. Hey, we just watched the end of Sopranos and I thought it was great. And anyone who thought they killed Tony and his family were not paying attention because THERE WAS NO ONE LEFT TO KILL HIM!!!

Simple Pleasures by Rod

Simple pleasures are best ...

I've got a subscription to Sirius satellite radio that allows me to listen to Howard Stern ad ad nauseum, along with an uninterrupted music stream of just about any genre of music I can imagine; I'm a member of Pandora.com where I choose all my songs - hits, new stuff, just about anything.

Transplanted Yankee fan in the middle of Red Sox Nation? No problem! I'm the owner of a monthly premium MLB.com online subscription that allows me to view 161 Yankees games on my computer monitor. If I get tired of that well, hell, I've got about a thousand digital cable television channels, plus all kinds of movies on demand -- including the overrated steaming cow pie of a picture, "No Country for Old Men." (A waste of a perfectly good Tommy Lee Jones, but I digress.)

Three DVD players, six computers, six televisions, five iPods, lots of multimedia speakers and computer monitors, stereos, radios, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth technology. A house just full of brain-cancer causing micro and radiowaves.

Bogart. That's the ticket. The key to my happiness. I'm watching the same Bogie flick that I've seen about 70 times.

On Birthdays and Backs by Rochelle

It was recently both mine and my husband's birthday. It was also the day before we went back to work after a week of vacation at the beach. Oh, and my back problem, which was supposedly "fixed," is worse than ever. So one could say I was a bit depressed for this birthday.

Anyway, it's funny that at this age not only do you not particularly look forward to another birthday, you actually go through the day and completely forget that it is YOUR DAY. When you're younger you find a way to get it into every conversation.

"Oh, sorry I ran over your cat. Today is my birthday."

"Oh, you just got back from Iraq? Well, today is my birthday."

"Sorry your husband left you. Hey, today is my birthday."

Not like that when you turn 53. BUT it was also my dear (younger) husband's birthday. That's always what gets the attention, and it's also kind of annoying. Used to be kind of 'cute' when we met but now not so much.

(Umm, I'm a twin. - Angela)

When we met in college I thought he was trying to pick me up when he told me his birthday was August 3rd. How lame could he be?

I made him show me his driver's license before I believed him. Come to think of it, my back hurt that day too ... but that was from sky diving lessons. Perhaps that's when it all started to go bad for me and my back.

Wow! My brother just called from Pennsylvania to wish me a happy birthday. Now I'm kind of feeling better. Plus I talked to my niece Anna, who makes me laugh. She is 15 and the last time we talked she told me a story about a bunch of kids who were getting rousted by the police because of some street fight or something. For some reason, I thought she was saying that the FBI was there (at the street fight) so when she told me some strange cars showed up I asked if they were black. She is like, "What difference does that make, Aunt Rochelle?" Apparently she thought I was referring to the people causing the trouble, when in fact I meant the cars. Black cars are usually FBI.

(I like how Mom talks so casually about law enforcement. "Yeah, black cars are usually the feds, so be careful -- but if he's a local pig, shoot him." - Alicia)

Yeah well, it was funny at the time.