Letting the Days Go By

I have time to take the dogs to the dogpark these days. Dudley and Motley got to play with a passel of cuties yesterday!

Interesting

I observe life as it progresses, and I don't judge. I am intrigued.

I am aware of subtle changes in my body--just like I've been all my life. Sometimes things surprise me, sometimes, it feels very natural.

Reading glasses, for instance. Until I learned this from my former air-partner Eric, I would never have guessed that just about every person over the age of 40 needs reading glasses.

I was able to stave it off for several years, because I had Lasik surgery in 2004. But sure enough, reading glasses entered my life.

I think the deterioration of our vision may be God's way of protecting us from the sharpness of the changes of old age. Think about it. Until just a few hundred years ago, every person who ever lived, had to hold reading material and other close-work farther and farther away, until they reached a point where the eyes stopped changing. And when holding things at arms length no longer brings things in focus, you start to see things as they are, within your grasp.

Wrinkles on your beloved disappear. The ugly truth takes on a muted subtlety. And life goes on.

Eventually, we as a species create our own version of reality, both seen and unseen.

Little tics.....little aches....the tiniest of skin tags where one didn't exist the day before. All are signs that the clock is ticking.

Really, it's OK.

I wouldn't trade physical perfection with wisdom.

Wisdom is a lot more fun. And I have a lot yet to acquire, so I look forward to that too.

Got any Advil?

"Train" visits the KOMO Studios

I forgot to post this last month. These guys came in the studio and were very nice!

Random Holiday Stuff

I'm noticing my blogger friends and I are getting a little lax in our posting, so I thought I'd share some Holiday images of this season.

First, there's the new Christmas Tree at the Space Needle:

It's very unattractive during the day. But at nighttime, it turns into this etherial mass of lighted puffiness. I think it's very pretty.

It was kind of a controversial choice for the Needle folks, but I think it's a gamble that paid off.

I also helped organize a group of volunteers from the Center for Spiritual Living donate their time at this year's Phinney Neighborhood Center Holiday Festival and craft fair.

This is a photo of a nice guy named Philip, who volunteered with me. We worked the bake sale on the 2nd floor of the big blue building. Very festive and fun!

My mother was mortified when I told her I would be volunteering at a bake sale. She thought I was doing it to eat all the treats.

Ha ha! I only had a couple treats! So there. Mostly it was about taking money, pouring hot water for tea and bagging cookies for sale later in the day. We had a very nice time.

What could be more festive than a visit from the Radio City Rockettes?

Two of them joined us in the studio last week to talk about their Christmas Spectacular at the Paramount theater.

Sure, they are leggy and beautiful, but they're also amazing athletes. These women train and train, and many of them even went to Rockette dance camp when they were teenagers, to prepare for their Rockette audition.

Who knew?
Very sparkly.

Finally, it's not very "Christmas-y", but this is how I spent part of my volunteer time, when I was supposed to be working with the Marines and doing call-ins for our "Toys for Tots" toy drive at the Wal-Mart in Marysville:
I was sitting in a parking lot, some 500 feet from the Wal-Mart, waiting for a police officer to write me a ticket.

A woman ON HER CELLPHONE in a big SUV sidled up to me as we turned the corner onto Quil-Ceda Boulevard.

Happy Christmas. Well, nobody was hurt, and if you look closely, you can see little Motley (in his new sweater) watching me. They came along for the ride.

Did I mention it was 15-degrees outside that day?

Anybody know where I can get a good deal on a 2001 VW Passat drivers side mirror?

Speaking vs. Singing

I had an amazing experience the other night.

I was asked to read three beautiful poems about gratitude during the Wednesday night service at the Center for Spiritual Living here in Seattle.

It was the first time I have been asked to do anything in front of the congregation, and the person who asked me, Rev. Michael Ingersol, was so excited by the idea that I was confident I would do well.

Unlike most of the world, I have no fear of public speaking. The scripts were lovely, I had my own podium off to the side of the main stage, the sound system was flawless, and everything was in its' place.

Things went very, very well. Nearly 500 people attended the service, and many people were moved. I saw tears, there were standing ovations for several of the singers, and there were many hugs afterwards.

I hope I have another opportunity to connect there with a reading or something along those lines.

But, I included singing in the title of this blog for a reason. I'm trying to figure out why I can speak in front of tens of thousands of people (as when I have filled in as PA announcer for the Seattle Mariners), but have had such a challenging time singing in front of even just a few people.

I joined my church choir earlier this year, and with a group, all is well. I sing, smile, move effortlessly, and follow the direction of the choir director with ease.

But, on a whim, I decided to audition with our new choir director, Eddie Watkins Jr. for a solo opportunity. It was all I could do to stay on key. He even lowered the key a few times, and was very encouraging. But I felt awkward, nervous, and very uncomfortable.

I have been told in the past that I have a nice singing voice. I sang with the KING-TV band, "Bars and Tone" for several years, even taking the lead on "Somebody To Love". Thought I was over the singing jitters then. But they're back!

Maybe it's because I need to be completely connected with my heart and soul to sing well, and I have trained myself to speak in such a way where I can be connected, or slightly disconnected to my core, and continue to perform.

Or, maybe it's because I keep hearing the voice of my mother and sisters all those years ago, when we sang as a trio, being told I was off-key, or "too breathy". Maybe if I can get those voices out of my head, I can really do this.

I don't need any kind of glory or accolades from an audience for my singing, and yet I feel strongly about wanting to try this. That's the part I can't figure out.

I'm not sure if I will ever be selected to sing lead with the choir. Maybe I'm not good enough. There are some pretty incredible voices in the Choir of Light.

I guess I'm just still trying to find my own voice, in some strange way.

Welcome to my Sinus Infection

Usually, when I feel a cold or something coming on, I get acupuncture and it knocks it right out of me.

That's what I did on Tuesday, but this time, it was a little more severe. I am approaching my fourth day off from work, and feeling a little guilty about it.

I've never missed this many days of work before. Two has been my maximum. But this time, since my doctor said I may be contagious (and she suspected the flu, although I completely disagree with that diagnosis) I have been told to stay home and rest.

But that is not all. Oh no, my friend. You should see the treatment regimen she has me doing.

First of all, I'm snorting warm salt water into my sinus cavity through each nostril every couple of hours. I'm also taking mega doses of vitamin C, something called "EHB" with echinacia, and a bunch of other natural stuff to boost the immune system, a vial of some NASTY-ASS tasting liquid called "URTI & hydrastis" every-other hour, and there's MORE.

Several times a day, I am inserting 4 long medical q-tips into my nasal cavities, 2 parallel to the floor, and two at an angle into my upper sinus cavity, coated with some sort of essential oil blend with eucalyptus, pine, peppermint and God knows what else. I lie back and sneeze my freaking head off for as long as I can stand it (usually about 15 minutes, although she wants me to do 30 minutes) and try to relax.

But wait, there's more. The pinnacle of my naturopathic remedy is the WET SOCKS TREATMENT. It should really be called the FUCKING COLD WET SOCKS TREATMENT, because that's what it really involves.

First, you take a hot bath and warm yourself up all nice and toasty. Put on your 2nd favorite pair of P.J's (I'll explain why in a moment).

Then, put on a thin pair of cotton socks that have been soaked in FUCKING COLD ICE WATER. Cover them up with a pair of thick, wool socks (I have only thick cotton gym socks, so they have to suffice).

Finally, go to bed, and cover up. You will find you sweat profusely during the night. That's why you need the 2nd pair of PJ's. Because the first pair will get soaked through with perspiration.

When you wake up, the socks are dry and toasty, and so are you.

Actually, it's kind of an ingenious treatment. The theory is that the cold wet socks force your immune system to go into hyper-drive and pull warming, healing blood down to your feet, increasing your circulation, and knocking the cold or flu or sinus infection out of you. I did it last night, and felt a lot better today.

So, here's to another night of freezing socks.

Too Precious for Words

This post is for my friend and associate Dan, who wanted to see photos of my new puppy Motley. (he's the one with the mottled grey, black and coffee-colored coat)

"You are interrupting our play, Mommy-lady!"

Love comes in all colors.

"Hey, I was here FIRST!"

An explanation of the above dog: This is not Abbey. About an hour before I left to drive to Puyallup to meet (and eventually adopt) Motley, this wonderful dog (named Snoops) jumped up on the bench beside me at the Greenlake dog park.

She stayed very close, wanted to be cuddled and petted by me, and stayed for a very long time. I think her mottled coat was a sign that Motley was about to come into my life. She is a Shepherd mix, like Abbey was, with the same soft ears.

Her Daddy said Snoops never did this sort of thing, and that I must have treats in my pocket. I did not. I think Snoops felt my loss of Abbey and was comforting me. It was a wonderful moment.

Too precious for words.

Adding to the Family

Took the plunge and adopted this little guy from the Puyallup Animal Rescue today. I found him on Petfinder last week, and Anne and I went to meet him at the PetSmart in Puyallup where his foster mom and Sally from the Animal Rescue were waiting for us.

And, by us, I also mean Dudley. It was crucial that he like this little guy, and they did seem to hit it off.

So, he came home with us.

The kids at his foster home named him "Digil"...whatever that means. I decided to call him "Motley", because of his mottled coat.

So far, so good.......but about an hour into his time in the house he started peeing on everything. So he's in a crate now. I've been taking him outside to go potty, and sometimes he gets it and sometimes he doesn't.

So, here we go again! But you should see he and Dudley playing together. Very cute!!! And it's very good to have two puppies in the house again.

He won't replace Abbey, but he's a good addition.

Halloween Houses

People go all out with Halloween decorations in my neighborhood. Dudley and I were walking to the Post Office the other day and here's a couple highlights:

These folks are just insane:

But you KNOW they've got a great sense of humor. Here's a close-up shot. My favorite part is Santa in the black mask.

These guys know that Jolly Old St. Nick is really a thief, waiting to rob you of your presents! (he's also wearing a cape--ode to Zorro, perhaps?)

These folks have a cute Halloween ghost tree too, but notice, on the left there's also a vampire hanging by a noose!

And this house is clever, just because I've never seen enormous spiders from space taking over a house like this. (don't look, Colleen!)

And then, Mr. Pumpkin Scarecrow welcomes you with his happy smile. Subtle but nice!

Sex and the City

I think watching the King County Executive debate the other night between Susan Hutchison and Dow Constantine got me thinking about Seattle and its' relationship to strong, successful women.

The above photo is of Debbie Armstrong (courtesy Seattle Times). She's from Seattle, and in 1984, she won the Gold Medal in the Women's Giant Slolam at the Winter Olympics in Sarajevo. She was just 20 years old at the time.

After she won, I remember the city kind of cobbled together a celebration of her victory.

It was as if somebody at City Hall thought; "Oh yeah, we got a Gold Medal. Whatever." (then, had it been fashionable at the time, they probably would have made that "w" sign with their index fingers and thumbs)

The parade was short, cheesy and not very special. Traffic barely stopped for 5 minutes. Very few people came downtown to see our Olympian.

I got the feeling that nobody thought it was a big deal, until the very last minute, when somebody pulled some strings.

I was assigned to cover the parade, and celebration. Charlie Royer was Mayor at the time, and I remember he made a little presentation to Debbie after the parade. She was so happy. She had the hugest smile on her face the whole time, holding up her medal for everyone to see, and just sitting back and delighting in the moment.

But that was kind of it. There were no other significant celebrations for Debbie, who now teaches skiing in California, and calls herself "Deb". No parks, streets, city conference rooms...nothing is named for her.

Always thought we could have done better by her. That was a big-deal Gold Medal.

(For those of you keeping track, the 1984 Winter games also saw Edmond's Roslyn Sumners take the silver in figure skating. -- she got a Boulevard named after her)

It was noticed by this reporter. And by others.

Think about all the attention SILVER medalist Apolo Ohno receives these days. He makes lots of appearaces, is extremely photogenic, and probably has himself one heck of an agent. We all remember his winning performance on "Dancing With The Stars". The guy is admired wherever he goes. Crowds recently stood outside for hours, waiting for a chance to get a photo taken with him at a local QFC. ("no autographs, please....we need to let as many people meet Apolo as possible....")

What about Debbie? There were never events like that for her. Granted, Apolo is being sponsored by Coke--but I just have to wonder.

Was Debbie too "Butch" for a national sponsorship? She came out of nowhere to take that Gold medal. With the exception of those who knew her from her Alpental and Snoqualmie Summit skiing days, her trip to Sarajevo was pretty much kept under the radar. And I can't help but think there was more than a little sexism, and almost no civic pride coming from the city's "fathers", because the win wasn't celebrating a "son".

It was the daughter from the dad who wished he had a boy.

I think Seattle and Washington have come a long way since then. And that's what brings me back to the King County Executive debates.

1984 was a time when women were just starting to feel their wings in local politics. There were women on the City Council, and women State Representatives--but no women in Congress the Senate, leading State Government or local government.

Flash forward 25 years--and I don't need to remind you that it's no big deal these days. A woman Governor, two women Senators, we've had women in Congress for years, in the Legislature, gender isn't even talked about among the ranks anymore, because it is so common. The male/female balance in city and county governments is hardly an issue.

But Seattle hasn't had a woman mayor since Bertha Landes in 1926. She served for two years.

King County has never had a women County Executive. That might change in November--but these days, nobody talks about her gender. The only discussion is about whether or not she is qualified for office. THAT is a perfectly legitimate discussion. And I appreciate seeing how politics has significantly changed in the area.

Maybe Debbie Armstrong should run for office.

A Break in the Storm at Magnolia Bluff

Dudley and I took a ride to Magnolia Bluff to experience the wind and rain of today's storm.

Instead, when we arrived, the storm broke, and we were treated to this spectacular view.

Nature does not disappoint!

Aristotle Would Be Proud

Dudley clearly chooses to examine his life, thus it is worth living.

Bittersweet Afternoon at the Dog Park

It was such a beautiful afternoon at the Greenlake Dog Park today.

There were lots of dogs of all shapes and sizes, chasing each other, kicking up dust among the trees, making for this beautiful photograph.

Dudley was a little less playful than usual here, and I think I know why.

The last time we were here, we were all here together. Abbey and Dudley and I did our usual 2 laps around the perimeter.

Abbey was a little slow climbing the hills, but I had come to expect that.

When Dudley and I walked the perimeter today, I just burst out crying at one of the hills where she used to struggle a bit.

My girl is really gone.

Dudley and I still had fun, but it was bittersweet.

A Beautiful Autumn

The fall colors this year in the Seattle area are, I think, the most beautiful I've ever seen here.

They rival the colors of the East--although we're just in the early phases.

I've heard that dry summers, which we had this year, lend themselves to spectacular autumn colors.

So maybe all the hot, dry, oppressive weather was worth it.

Oh What A Beautiful Morning

I've heard it said that if you can see and experience beauty, then sadness and pain has to move.

I took this photo at Greenlake this morning.

What a beautiful day.

Remembering When

It was March of 1996 when this little girl came into my life:

Look at that sweet face.

She was so tiny...

Moving Forward

It's been almost 3 weeks since my precious girl-dog Abbey passed away.

It's been a challenging time, but life moves forward. Dudley and I are doing OK. We hang out together and play "Toys" and have "bone time".

We go for walks and go to the dog park.

Cookies are presented and consumed.

Breakfast and Supper are prepared and ignored. (that's his normal routine)

When it's time for bed, Dudley leads the way and eagerly jumps into bed first.

We go for rides and run errands.

We talk to each other about our days.

Moving forward does not mean Abbey is any less in my heart or my thoughts.

She will always have a place there.

But it is good to move forward.

Goodbye, Sweetheart.

It's been a hard week.

Abbey, who came into my life in 1996, passed away on Tuesday morning. She had been coughing for a couple of weeks, but seemed to be getting better.

She ate normally, she played "Toys" almost every day, including Monday evening.

We cuddled, she came up to me for her usual scratches and pets.

But I guess it was her time.

She was very sick Tuesday morning. I took her to the vet's office--she wanted to go. She jumped into the back seat, I didn't even have to lift her hind legs.

It took a little tug to get her to come out, but she walked into the office, walked (with a little tugging) up on the scale to be weighed.

Immediately after they showed us into the exam room, Abbey collapsed, heaved a big sigh, coughed twice, and died.

The vet didn't even have time to get a syringe of medication to ease her pain.

She's gone now.

I am stunned that I feel so sad. I'm not sleeping well, have had headaches, everything smells weird, and tastes weird. I guess this is real grief.

I know this will pass.

At least I hope it will.

She followed me everywhere.

If I got up in the middle of the night, she woke up and followed me to wherever I walked. She was my constant shadow.

Her little feet always stamped on the floor in joy when I walked in the door after work. She always gave me a dirty look when I gave her a cookie before I left for work. Her fur is everywhere. I am reluctant to clean my car because I'm not ready to get rid of it yet.

That's Abbey smiling in the back seat in early August. I surprised her and Dudley by taking them on a road trip to Bellingham.

We played on the beach at Lariby State Park. She loved the feeling of the cool pebbles on her belly when she laid by the water.

We drove around Bellingham, and, just like we used to do when she was a puppy in Ohio, we stopped at a Dairy Queen, and the pooches shared a small vanilla ice cream.

She was so very happy that day.

This was love. Thank you, Sweetheart. I miss you.

Not Meant to Be

So yesterday, this adorable little guy wandered around the newsroom-- he was the Humane Society's KOMO TV Pet-of-the-Week.

His name is Dorian.

Of course I fell in love. Who wouldn't? All I could think about was how cute that 3-year-old Llasa Apso mix would look with my own 3-year-old Llasa Apso mix, Dudley. (Dorian is also a boy, by the way)

So I scheduled a meet-and-greet for the two little boys for this morning. Unfortunately, Abbey is sick.

She has been coughing a deep, hacking cough for a week, and retches after each spasm. Nothing comes out, but there is clearly something wrong. She also ran away on Tuesday night, and I was an absolute wreck all night and into Wednesday, when I got a call from Seattle Animal Control that she had been found, about a half-mile away, on the OTHER side of Aurora Avenue (a VERY busy street).

I don't want to think about how she crossed that street.

But I can't bring a new dog into the house right now with Abbey having serious issues at age 14.

"sigh".

It's just not meant to be, I guess.

Unacceptable!

Have I become THIS? :

Yesterday was one of the most peaceful, mellow, love-filled days I have had in a long time. I spent it at "Camp Brotherhood" north of Arlington at a retreat for the new church choir I joined 2 weeks ago.

The whole day was filled with music, connecting, laughter, and lots of fun.

I was so excited to meet these nice people and feel accepted by them. The music is great. Our first performance is September 27th.

Then, life came crashing down.

The twenty-somethings who inhabit the rental house next door threw one of their all-night parties again.

But, I was feeling so mellow and relaxed that I didn't call 9-1-1. I didn't yell for them to shut up, even as their noisemaking woke me up at 3:00, 4:00 and 4:30 in the morning.

I thought, "well, they have a right to blow off a little steam".

Then, when I went outside my front gate around 11:30, I found the beer cans and bottles littering my little parking strip. Two of them were across the street working on a car, and I lost my cool.

I started screaming at them. I said "This is Unacceptable! " "You have to move OUT!". And to punctuate my point, I started hurling all the beer cans and bottles back on their yard. For the first time in a very long time, I was so angry that I was shaking.

My street used to be overrun with drugs and prostitution in the 1980's. Then, neighbors and the city worked together to close the under-pass that used to take school children to elementary school by giving them safe passage under Aurora Avenue. It had become a haven for prostitutes and drug dealers and worse.

A few new homes were built on the street, and eventually, the crime went away.

Now, my neighbor across the street has moved a 7-foot-long blue cloth couch onto the front yard.

And today, beer bottles litter the street.

People have worked too hard to return my neighborhood to those who just want a quiet place to sleep and call home.

I don't want to be the screaming old lady who is laughed at by everyone.

But this is unacceptable.

Chillin' With My Homegirl

I've named her Matilda. She's a beautiful old girl, who was donated to Camp Brotherhood near Arlington, Washington.

She and I spent about a half hour together between choir practices today. She sauntered over when I offered her some of my cheddar cheese Goldfish crackers.

Turns out that's a very tasty snack for a cow. Probably because of the cheese, I figure. Tastes like cow, you know?

Dudley, meet Chester. Chester, meet Dudley.

Chester wasn't phased. Dudley kind of forgot about Chester after awhile.

It was an impromptu visit to Anne's place last night that sparked this meeting. You have to know that Dudley is a dog who knows the word "kitty" and searches around frantically every time he hears it.

But for some reason, Dudley kind of recognizes Chester, then promptly ignores him.

That is, until I say "Where's the kitty?". Then Dudley looks around until he finds him, stares at him, threatens him, and then ignores him again.

Kind of like the U.S. relationship with North Korea.

A Most Beautiful Summer

One thing I've noticed as I've returned to Seattle is the fact so many people complain about the weather so often.

Maybe it's just because we long to share a common experience, and the weather is a universally experienced topic.  Because when you think about it, we haven' t had that much to complain about this summer.

Sure there were about 2 1/2 hot hot hot weeks, spaced several weeks apart--but really, our Summer of 2009 was really a SUMMER!.  In fact, it's the most beautiful summer I can remember in 18 summers I've spent in Seattle.

Our sunny days were numerous.  Rainy, chilly days were almost non-existent.  

It was so pleasant that you could count on coming home after work and taking the dogs to the park, without even considering if it might be too wet for them.  When was the last summer THAT happened?

Yes, we had some unbelievably hot days.  Yes, we got above an unheard of 100 degrees on at least two occasions.  But hey, it wasn't humid!  (spoken from someone who spent 7 summers in Cleveland, THAT is something to be appreciated!!!)

I didn't get to go out of town too much-- the above photo is from the Seabeck Conference Center, where I spent a very wonderful, peaceful week in late August.  No air conditioning, and it was very warm.  But, as you can see, it was also very beautiful.

So next summer, when it doesn't seem to get warmer than 65 degrees, and they're calling for yet another rainy day, I will look back on the summer of 2009 with fond memories.  

What will Fall bring?

All Together Now

For the first time in many, many years, I have become a part of a choir.

I was accepted in the Center for Spiritual Living's "Choir of Light" last Sunday, and my first rehearsal with the group is tonight.  Looking forward to it!

I have admired this organization from the audience for several years now, and am always impressed that they have memorized their music, and that their direction and pitch are flawless.

As is very typical for me, I am entering this new situation as it is also in transition.  The man who has directed the "Choir of Light" just resigned, and an interim director is in place, while a new music director moves into the position.  So, in many ways, we'll all be going through something new together.

An advantage for me is that I won't have to worry about changing procedures that have "always been done that way"--they'll ALL be new for everyone.

But more important than any of this, is the fact that I am getting in touch with a part of myself that has been buried for quite a while.  

I have been afraid of singing in public for many years.  Talking is no problem.  I could talk in front of hundreds of thousands of people.  But singing is very different.  For me to connect to music, I must also connect to my heart.  The two are so interlocked that breaking the line makes singing impossible.  And that means I must be very grounded to sing with any power at all.   

Must be time to connect!

Wish me well....

Flash Mob Seattle - Beat It

I wish I was there to see this. I think Flash Mob activities like this are positive and inspire joy. We all need a little more of that!

Cookin' With David Cook

American Idol winner David Cook made a guest appearance into the KOMO Newsradio studios on Wednesday--very nice guy. He was a little road-weary and businesslike when he first sat down with us:


But when we got into the interview, he seemed to be having a very nice time.


Afterwards, he posed for photos, and even horsed around a bit with editor Jeremy Grater.

Don't Give Me Your Attitude!

Once again, Dudley refuses to eat his breakfast.  

Instead, I am greeted by this.

He thinks it's cute.

I think he needs to get over himself already.

Spending Time With The Kids

The dogs have been especially cuddly and sweet today. And this isn't their usual routine.

While they enjoy lazing around whenever possible, anytime I'm here, it's a potential opportunity for a trip to the d-o-g p-a-r-k (yes, I have to spell it around them or they go nuts), a w-a-l-k (another word I have to spell) or a r-i-d-e. (you're starting to see the pattern here).

Today has been different. Abbey started the morning by wanting to come up on the bed, something she hasn't done in months because her arthritis has deteriorated her spine so much that she cannot jump up without me lifting her or pulling her up the little "doggy steps" at the foot of the bed. (she won't go up the doggy steps alone).

She's also been very very sweet, lying close to me, letting me pet her, not fighting with Dudley even though he's up to his usual antics, and playing toys in the hall.

My sweet, sweet girl is having a very good day.

Dudley has also been sweet, but is right now barking as I blog, so that's it for this post. I think a RIDE is in order to the DOG PARK.

(oops, I'm done for now!)

How Can I Watch This Tomorow?

This Explains a LOT

My obsession of late has been watching the first two seasons of AMC's "Mad Men" on DVD. 

My teeny tiny cable package doesn't include this Basic Cable channel, so I wasn't even aware of Mad Men until I found out a former colleague and friend, Matt Riedy, had appeared on an episode of the show.

A little research found "Mad Men" had also taken more than a dozen Emmy awards for writing, acting and production.  Pretty impressive for a little cable TV show.

Just because I wanted to find Matt's episode, I added Mad Men to my Netflix account.  

Boy, am I glad I did!  

 "Mad Men" is more than just an office drama set in 1960-63.  Its' extremely well-written and researched, with just enough historical accuracy to really provide a glimpse into the time my parents were trying to make a go of things.

It explains a LOT.  It explains why there were so many alcoholics back then, it explains why men of my father's era treated women like toss-away pieces of meat, why women were so terribly worried about gaining weight, why double standards between men and women were accepted, even if women didn't like them, why shame and guilt and envy and fear so obsessed the white-collar class that they repressed themselves, and why everybody kept so many secrets.

Sure, it's heightened drama and trumped-up action, but there's enough truth in it to make sense of a lot of things I've wondered about for years.

I was talking about the show to my mother, and mentioned the accuracy, and how the "costumes" were so true.  She laughed at me and asked me to please stop using the word "costumes" because they are "FASHIONS".  I wish I could watch the show with her, to get her take on all of this.

Something that was extremely shocking was that the lead character, Don Draper, allows his 7 or 8 year old daughter to make mixed drinks for him, his wife, and their guests.  But, that's what some kids in "upper class" homes were taught to do back then.  And they were told they were "good girls" for helping Mommy and Daddy entertain.

But what I'm enjoying most of all is the subtle unravelling of the seemingly perfect life of Don Draper and his wife Betty.  Because their psychological undoing is based on secrets they can no longer stuff down with alcohol and affairs, social mores and assumptions.

The truth will come out, and it will significantly change their lives.   

It parallels the sexual revolution, the women's movement, civil rights, and equality in the workplace.  

And, it explains a lot.

Plus it's just darned clever writing and casting!