"Are You Okay?"

Got an email from my “Left Coast” cousin the other day asking if I was okay.

You see I’ve been in the middle of some homestead renovation for the past couple of weeks and he realized that I had not been on the Internet in a while.

I was touched that he noticed.

And it also got me to thinking about the idea of Facebook as a monitoring tool to keep track of the health and well-being of our loved ones.

“Yes officer, I did notice a funny smell coming from her apartment, but that didn’t alarm me as much as the fact that her Facebook status hadn’t changed in OVER A WEEK!” 

“Plus she didn’t “comment” on the pictures of me in my bikini in Vegas!”

“And I looked good in those!”

“She would have at least “liked” them!”

“Even if I didn’t invite her to go!”

I love Facebook.

I fought joining Facebook for a long time until my sister talked me into trying it.

Now it’s my computer “crack”.

If I need to get ANYTHING done at all, I CANNOT go to the feed and take even one peek.

Its time sucking spell pulls me into its vortex and pretty soon it’s four hours later and I am still in my smelly pajamas, hair askew and no eyebrows.

But I AM up to date on all of my friends fabulous adventures.

And I get to see all of the fun stuff that I am NOT doing.

Like flying to Negril.

Or eating filet mignon at some fancy restaurant.

Or dodging crabs at a swamp in Florida.

Or peering at the Grand Canyon for the first time with my grandchildren. (If I had any)

Or visiting ANYPLACE but my lumpy living room sofa.

But my favorite thing about Facebook is the pictures.

Friends and family, out-laws and in-laws, classmates and workmates.

They upload their lives in living color for all of us to enjoy and experience.

“It’s a beautiful thing", as my Daddy used to say.

There has never been a time in history when we could so effortlessly peruse the images of so many people and share in their milestones of life.

I remember the day that my mother passed away.

I was obviously devastated and overcome with this helpless feeling of loss.

Because no matter how old you are, when you lose a parent you revert back to being  a four year old child again.

But submerged in my daunting grief, I sat down at my computer and began to compile a pictorial tribute to her life.

I walked my sorrowful heart, as well as those of my friends and family down memory lane.

Narrating the photographs and images of long ago.

And as the tears fell, just the act of sharing her life with others made her passing less painful.

A catharsis of Kodak moments.

So when people complain that Facebook is “Big Brother” and monitors our every move.

Or they grumble about new features and grouse over any format changes.

I just smile and say, “It’s free, it’s fun and you can delete it any time you want to.”

Plus if I don’t post anything new for awhile, my Left Coast Cousin can alert the fuzz to bust down my door and check for my smelly carcass.

……..I’m just sayin’

DYHAM ALERT!!

Fourth of July today and basically it’s just an excuse for most people to BBQ some weenies and drink a lot of mind-numbing beverages.

Planning on going out to Ocean Beach, catching a few rays, watching a lot of butt cracks, and oohing and aahing  at the fireworks.

Of course this plan of attack involves revealing my winterized gams, and as mentioned in previous posts that means unwrapping months of hair carpet from around my ankles and knees.

Next step would be pulling out the boom chucker weedwacker of my brother-in-laws to finish up the final deforestation process….(hope he brought me enough heavy duty twine for the job)

THEN and ONLY then, will I allow my legs to see the light of day.

There are certain things that are inevitable with this type of beach outing.

One of these inevitable situations will be that I will be gazing upon many human body parts that should not be made visible to the human eye.

EVER……

Whenever I go out “amongst ‘em” as my Dad used to say, I am always puzzled by the fact that most people apparently do not own a mirror.

We call them “DYHAM” encounters.

As in “DO YOU HAVE A MIRROR???”

We use this term to alert each other to anything that may disturb our psyche or wake us up later in a cold sweat.

Among the worst offenders are butt cracks, bras that are four sizes too small and tragic muffin tops.

Not to mention the 20 year old cut-off jeans that “still fit me” after all these years.

Here’s a clue toots! 

If your body resembles a Farmer John sausage casing,

THEY DON’T FIT YOU ANY MORE!

Do the world a favor and DONATE THEM TO THE GOODWILL!

Or better yet, pitch them into a bonfire…..

Or fashion them into a clever handbag….

Just DO NOT hoist them over your gelatinous thighs and prance around in front of everyone like a Beyonce’ video.

It’s just not pretty.

Hey, I’m not judgin’.

I am no small fry myself.

But I would never DREAM of sporting some of these get-ups out in public.

My puppies would be giving me a mighty thumbs down before I even got out of the door….

As Kevin Meaney used to say, “We’re not small pants people!”

We believe in the Muu-Muu and body acreage concealment.

It’s just healthier for everyone involved.

Plus you can smuggle more snacks into places without someone knowing you have a private stash of Snicker bars under your flowing frock.

And you won’t be the humiliated victim of someone walking behind you screaming,

“WATCH OUT PEOPLE, WE HAVE ANOTHER “DYHAM” HERE!” 

“CLEAR THE SIDEWALK!!”

“HIDE YOUR POTATO CHIPS!”

So have a lovely Fourth of July everyone!

Enjoy the day.

Don’t drink and drive.

And for the love of everything that’s holy,

Check the derriere rear view before stepping out the door……

…….I’m just sayin’