I’ve never been one to follow rules. A long list of frustrated teachers, exasperated parents, and humorless police officers can confirm that fact. It’s not that I’m overly rebellious; it’s just that I prefer to have my own way. About everything. This attitude can be annoying to others.
However, after living this long, I do adhere to a few Rules of Life:
- Never assume people will appreciate that you are alive. (This fact comes in handy when dealing with sales clerks, bank tellers, neighbors, classmates, audiences, ex-spouses, etc.)
- Always tip waiters, hairdressers, and physical therapists. (Acknowledge that these people help you eat, look better, and feel great. They deserve a tip for dealing with you.)
- Be nice to children. (My generation survived without helmets, car seats, cell phones, computers, and nannies. Today’s kids need to climb and fall out of trees, catch frogs in the ditch, and play outside until dark. I worry about them.)
- Avoid laxatives before playing in a golf tournament.
I just added that last rule. For those of us past a certain age, IBS does not mean the International Banking System. No, we’re blessed with a malady known as Irritable Bowel Syndrome (sorry if you’re having breakfast.) We never know when or where our bodies will decide to perform necessary bodily functions. I’ve always admired those who have been in the military because they get up, grab the newspaper, and go to the bathroom. Every day. However, many middle aged women greet a BM like those winners in the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes ads. We’re so overjoyed that we want someone to deliver balloons and a big check.
I recently played in a golf tournament. A few days before the tournament, I was so miserable that I downed several “gentle softeners” to assist Mother Nature. Well, she was out of town and didn’t return the call…until I stepped up to the first tee box. I know some of you are nodding your heads. Yes, that’s when the gurgling started. Imagine that awful scene from the movie Dumb and Dumber.
Golf courses are designed by men, probably with military experience, who have already done their daily duty and don’t need restrooms. When I golf, I calculate how long it will take to get to the lonely restroom at the far end of the course and have been known to jump into the cart and take off over the next fairway. Others golfers do not appreciate this, but many of the “seasoned” women raise their clubs in silent salute.
Anyway, at last week’s tournament I made the decision to break the rules (golf has too many rules, anyway), and I took off in the cart. I returned by the second hole, refreshed and rewarded, and hit the longest drive of my life. My scramble partner now wants me to repeat the exercise for the next tournament, but I refuse. My new rule is one that I just can’t break.
Today’s blog is fueled by a bottle of 2010 Fidélitas M100 from Columbia Valley. This delicious red wine is a unique blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and Petit Verdot. The label states that the wine was named for “Our Grandmother Mary – a passionate, stubborn, loving, opinionated, caring, tough, God-fearing, Lawrence Welk-lovin’ gal” – sounds like my kind of woman. Find this wine at A New Vintage Wine Shop for around $25.