Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Midlife Cabernet: Mama, Don’t let your Babies Grow Up to be Call Girls

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The world’s oldest profession comes with nasty consequences, so why are mothers allowing their young daughters to look like hookers? Julia Roberts glamorized prostitution in the movie Pretty Woman, but reality proves that it’s not the best career choice. Call girls have a higher probability of becoming diseased, abused, and dead instead of being saved and supported by a handsome millionaire.

Many of us more mature women regularly fight the urge to rush over with a protective tarp when we see a group of fifth-grade girls strutting through the mall. By their clothes and make up, they appear to be taking a break from their pole dancing gig and sauntering to hang out on the street corner. All they lack are dollar bills hanging from their belts and portable credit card readers attached to their bling-encrusted cell phones. And this is before they’ve had their first period.

Honey Boo Boo is not a positive role model.

A recent national study revealed that 30 percent of young girls’ clothing is sexualized at 15 major retailers. Companies spend $12 billion a year to convince little girls that they should look like tarts and tramps. A French company recently introduced a line of bras for ages 4-12, and many stores offer padded bikinis for 10-year-olds. Over 70 percent of the clothes marketed by Abercrombie Kids features sexy characters, provocative writing, a minimal amount of material, and designs to emphasize a girl’s chest and butt. The mothers who buy these clothes soon will have a new name: Grandmother.

According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, almost 37 percent of 14-year-olds have had sex. Promiscuous sexual experimentation has increased, resulting in about three million cases of sexually transmitted diseases every year among teens, and there are approximately one million unwanted teenage pregnancies. Yet another study indicates that young girls have alarming afflictions with eating disorders and negative self-perceptions. I don’t need to read any more studies. It’s obvious that our young girls are clamoring for the type of approval that will never come from texting a naked photo that remains on the Internet forever.

I’m not a prude – I coauthored and published a book of romantic poetry titled Daily Erotica, but the poems are for adults. I think sexual passion is fabulous, and I can maneuver into a skimpy negligee if the lights are low and my husband promises jewelry. But when it comes to sexy six-year-olds, I agree with Dana Carvey’s Church Lady. It’s not pru-dent.

What’s a mother to do?

Don’t lament, take action! Don’t buy clothes that turn your daughter into a sex object. Know the passwords to every social media site she visits so she won’t be lured by pedophiles or taunted by bullies. Know her friends. Establish guidelines and expectations. Lead by your own example. Don’t allow movies, magazines, and music that glorify rape, promote promiscuous sex, and degenerate women. If your daughter complains, invite her to get a job and pay for her room, board, computer, and Internet access. If she still throws a fit for trampy fashion, assign her to write a report about “Successful Whores I Admire.”

Your child will grow up fast enough, so focus on fun family time while you still can skip beside her. Encourage sports, musical instruments, dance, and art. Take walks together and plan vacations. Play outside. Discuss sex without blushing. Plan and make a family meal together. And, try to pick your battles and compromise: the short skirt is okay with leggings. (Duct tape them on, if necessary.)

Finally, analyze your own self-talk. Your children notice if you’re always critical of your body. They also observe healthy, loving relationships that they want to emulate. Teach them that bodies are beautiful at any age, and sex is natural and wonderful at a mature level that doesn’t require Hello Kitty lip gloss. Finally, believe that your 10-year-old doesn’t need a matching lace panty and bra set. Apply the money to her college fund so she can create her own business that encourages and celebrates smart women.

Today’s blog is fueled by a wonderful 2010 Decoy red wine from Napa Valley. This yummy blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon is from the Duckhorn Wine Company, producers of fabulous high-end wines. I found Decoy at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle for about $40. I also found Duckhorn Merlot for around $75. Get both bottles or a pair of shoes. Decisions, decisions.

Midlife Cabernet: A Survival Guide in Five Easy Paragraphs

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Some of you have been around the block enough times to know where to avoid the mud and dog poop or when to stop and smell the roses. Others, however, refuse to try a better path so they continue to trip over the same obstacles. And, then there is THAT group – the ones who stand in the street waiting for a free ride and then can’t understand why they get hit by a bus.

My spirited and splendid journey through life has taught me that the secrets to survival can be condensed to five easy paragraphs. It’s short because so is life.

  1. Use your common sense. Spend less money than you make or you’ll become a slave to debt which leads to misery, failure, and regret. Don’t go on a zip line through the jungle if you have a bladder problem because there aren’t any restrooms on those wobbly platforms. If you regularly eat an entire pecan pie with ice cream, you won’t look good naked. See how it works? Our brains have the remarkable ability to make good or bad decisions and choices. My mature brain tells me to manage money, avoid zip lines, and not come within 10 miles of a pie.
  2. Focus on fitness. Keep that pie image (and who wouldn’t?) and acknowledge that input should balance output. If you consume more food than you need to survive, you should expend enough energy to burn off the unnecessary calories. Get and stay healthy because life has a way of instantly whisking you from the high school prom to your 20-year reunion. And then it’s just a few hours before you’re sneaking into the store for reading glasses and incontinence supplies. Don’t wait until you’re older and lack the physical ability to skip with your grandchildren or chase your handsome hunk around the house, at different times of course.
  3. Love to be in love. As the years go by, there is a profound sweetness in waking up with someone who accepts your wrinkles, thinning hair, and sagging body parts and then says, “Good morning, Gorgeous.” Love your lover every day, from a passing wink to a sensual massage serenaded by Luther Vandross. A steady, exclusive relationship can turn a slow dance on the patio into a romantic encounter worthy of an evening in Paris. (Paris is always an adequate option.)
  4. Bad things happen. No one gets a free pass on calamity. During your life, you probably will experience flat tires, funerals, diarrhea, betrayal, lost love, fights with family, at least one broken bone, flatulence during a wedding, and the world’s worst boss. So you get up again, adjust your armor, and holler that you’re ready for the next challenge. Looking back at the assorted chaos in my life, I realize there were far more splendid times than bad. And the truly amazing adventures happened after I initially failed or took a risk.
  5. Attitude is everything. Positive, grateful people enjoy the best of life. By midlife, the laugh lines around their eyes reveal countless smiles through the miles, and their journey is one to emulate. Crabby, cynical worrywarts suck the energy from everyone they meet. Avoid them.

‘Dear Abby’ Pauline Phillips died this week at the age of 94. For almost 46 years, her advice columns appeared in 1,000 newspapers around the world. She wrote in her autobiography that her demanding job was not work because “It’s only work if you’d rather be doing something else.” I agree with her, and so my advice is to choose wisely, get healthy, love intensely, combat calamity, and be happy. Finally, remember that life is short. Make it sassy.

Today’s blog is fueled by a 2009 Storyteller syrah from South Africa. This tasty wine makes a perfect gift to share with the creative person in your life.

Can You Move It for Mirabel?

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Click here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/477046175670405/

mirabel mar 2012

My wee granddaughter needs some energy to learn to walk before her third birthday. She was born with Down syndrome and her darlin’ little body doesn’t have the strength to walk. Please click on the above link, read my daughter’s invitation, and then go take a walk. It’s a win-win situation!

When she finally walks, we’ll all celebrate!

Midlife Cabernet: How to Raise Amazing Children

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My son works in law enforcement and his job often requires him to enter homes where good parenting skills aren’t a priority. It’s difficult to prepare a nutritious family meal when the kitchen has been converted into a meth lab and the toddler is drinking from the dog’s bowl.

Fortunately for me, because of these horrible conditions my son now believes that I was Mother of the Year and that it wasn’t so bad when I served macaroni and leftover meatloaf for dinner during his formative years. He also understands why I was known as the Mother Bear of Centennial High School.

Yes, I was one of those mothers – the one who wanted to know her children’s friends, where they were going, and what time they would be home. My daughter still hasn’t forgiven me for panicking when she missed a high school curfew. I started calling everyone, including her school principal. She’ll understand in 10 years when her daughter is 15.

When my two children were teenagers, we had a large basement and I enjoyed inviting their friends over for pizza parties. The peace of mind was worth the clutter, noise, expense, and assorted chaos. Years later, I often encounter some of those teens who are now productive young adults. They fondly recount stories about those years, and not one of them served time in jail, became a television evangelist, or built a meth lab. I’m happy about that.

In my humble opinion, there are three main ways to raise amazing children: First, love them – fiercely, totally, and unconditionally. Second, set an example by your words and actions. Don’t expect them to get academic scholarships if you haven’t read a book in 20 years. Third, get lucky. We all know good parents who have bad children, and vice versa.

I will never regret my decision to have children, and motherhood is an essential part of the woman I am. I have saved every Mother’s Day card and only recently discarded their 20-year-old baby teeth. I had saved them in little packets labeled with the dates of when they fell out. I also saved the last bottle of breast milk in the freezer for 22 years. Yes, I probably need counseling for that.

My adult children now have children of their own, and I’m amazed at how well they are doing as parents. There is tremendous stress on young families today, and children grow up way too fast. My childhood was full of freedom – we played outside until dark, never wore a helmet, and our only telephone was attached to a wall back home. I worry about my grandchildren in our brave new world, but I know they’re in good hands and come from a strong foundation. And they don’t live too far from this devoted Grandmother Bear.

Today’s blog is fueled by a 2009 Windmill Red from Williamson Orchard near Caldwell. The wine is inexpensive at only $15 a bottle, and it’s a nice blend of Sangiovese and Cabernet Sauvignon. This local wineyard has produced tasty wines for more than 100 years. Find information about wines, prices, and tasting hours at www.willorch.com.

Midlife Cabernet: A Kiss Every Day Outlasts Lingerie

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The National Retail Federation predicts that $18.6 billion will be spent this year on Valentine’s Day gifts that include jewelry, flowers, candy, and greeting cards. However, many middle-aged couples ignore the hype and prefer a nice dinner with fine wine, a slow dance on the patio, and a tender look that says, “I will love you forever. Have you seen my dental floss?”

The Valentine’s Day edition of a popular women’s magazine recently offered some provocative advice about how to drive a man crazy by using naughty tricks that involved handcuffs and blindfolds. At midlife, most of us don’t have time or money to waste so we’d rather dim the lights, turn on some Luther Vandross, and holler “Come and get it!” before it’s time for the evening news and some salve on our aching backs.

The passing years have provided us the wisdom to know that if we donned a skimpy outfit smaller than a hanky and then wore a blindfold we would trip over our wobbly stilettos and smack our head on the nightstand. And if we lit 50 candles and then agreed to handcuffs we’d knock over the candles, start the house on fire, and not be able to find the key to the cuffs. Our friendly firemen would be greatly amused and publish our hapless photographs in a local magazine.

Most middle-aged women are strong advocates for romance but we want and need it more than once a year. We prefer daily acts of devotion that can build a lasting love affair. My sweetheart makes my coffee every morning and brings me the newspaper. (Yes, a morning newspaper proves just how old we are.) He laughs at my jokes even though he’s heard them before and they’re really not that funny. And, he kisses me every night and morning. We touch in our sleep, and that is the essence of pure love.

True romance often requires a sense of humor.

I don’t mind trying new amorous adventures, but they often come with humorous and unromantic results. The kitchen table was way too hard, the secluded outside picnic came with ants and stickers, and the tight corset took 30 minutes to remove. Once I arranged for a limousine stocked with Scotch and hot wings to pick up my hubby from the airport, but the limo was late and he stood outside in the freezing cold for twenty minutes. Another time I applied some sensuous massage oil but ended up spilling the entire bottle and ruining our best sheets. It took him two hot showers to degrease.

But, I’m not giving up on passion because it’s just too much fun. Millions of people over 50 enjoy loving relationships, and they now comprise the biggest group in online dating. According to the Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research, sexual health is important at any age, and doctors agree that older couples who enjoy sexual intimacy can lower their blood pressure, reduce the risks of heart attacks, and look years younger. According to my close female friends, a festive romp in the hay is a grand way to end the day, and there is no medical study required for that astute observation.

As millions of American women grow closer to age 60, we no longer relate to the role models of yesterday. We reject the weathered images of 63-year-old Irene Ryan as Granny Clampett in the television series “Beverly Hillbillies” and prefer the strong image of 63-year-old movie star Meryl Streep. We love the feisty spirits of sexy senior citizens Betty White and Tina Turner. Television legend Joan Collins is 79 years young. At a recent pre-Grammy party in Beverly Hills she said that sex was better than Botox for slowing the aging process. In response, many of the glamorous guests weren’t able to raise their eyebrows with surprise.

This year, forget the potions, purchases, and promises for the perfect Valentine’s Day. Be grateful for daily gestures of love and let him know in advance that you’d rather have a nice bottle of wine and a back rub than a 4-foot Vermont teddy bear. Really. Those things are scary.

Today’s blog was fueled by a lovely Merryvale Cabernet with a Valentine’s Day dinner. Perfect way to end the day…

valentines 2013

Midlife Cabernet: The Fun of Falling in Love at Fifty

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Nothing screams “pathetic loser” more than being a middle-aged divorcee alone at a festive party where beautiful couples are trading sloppy kisses and giggling like demented clowns. There’s not enough spiked punch in the world to soften the pain of pretending it doesn’t matter. Many of us graze along the buffet table hoping the crunch of nachos will be louder than the boisterous laughter of young lovers and then we migrate to the bar because all we get to take home is a headache.

We never intended to be divorced at midlife, but it happened. According to a recent study by Bowling Green State University in Ohio, the divorce rate among people age 46 to 64 has grown more than 50 percent. Almost one-third of baby boomers are single either by divorce, separation or they have never been married. Some are attracted to the single lifestyle while others would trade their original Beatles record collection for some hot passion.

I faced a Christmas alone while in my fifties. My children were grown with families of their own, and I cheerfully participated in their activities. But I came home every night to an empty house. I unpacked the decorations and forced myself to set up a tree, but the ornaments reminded me of a past life, one that was broken beyond repair. So I turned to retail therapy and bought new ornaments, but it wasn’t the same. Deck the halls with strange boughs of holly was a different song and I didn’t know the verses.

I survived until the wonderful day of December 26 when the world returned to normal. Hairdressers, mailmen, and waiters didn’t need to perk up for an extra tip, deranged drivers went back to cutting in line, and children didn’t care if the silly elf on the shelf was watching because they had 11 free months to misbehave. And, divorced people could return to work and focus on important things, such as how to lose the extra ten pounds gained while gobbling an entire pecan pie alone on Christmas Eve.

Soon after my winter of discontent, some friends invited me to dinner. They just happened to have a recently divorced guest who was visiting from another state. I never turn down a free meal, so I agreed to join them. I met him, also in his fifties and ruggedly handsome, and instantly felt a connection. At dinner, our knees touched under the table during the salad course. We laughed at silly jokes during the entrée, and by dessert, he was feeding me bites of cheesecake. I felt like a goofy teenager.

We spent four days together, often to the chagrin of his abandoned hosts, and then I took him to the airport. It was a scene out of Casablanca, complete with winter fog and drama. He held me close and whispered, “We’ll always have Boise.” Then he tipped his hat, sauntered through security, and hollered, “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

I drove home, wondering if he remembered my real name wasn’t Kid. But, it didn’t matter. I was smitten and it felt good. Of all the towns, in all the world, he walked into mine. He called when he landed at the next airport and was about to change planes. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship,” he said. “Say it again,” I said, “For old times’ sake.” And, yes, at that moment we were Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman but without the messy Nazi and farewell forever scenes.

We enjoyed a long-distance relationship over the next few months. Actually, it’s better to talk on the telephone because that’s when you really get to know someone without the physical distractions. After two months of fabulous phone fantasy, he made plans to return to Idaho. We embraced in the airport like long-lost lovers. I expected a crew from central casting to yell “Action” as we clung together in frantic passion. I even heard music from a mysterious gospel choir.

At midlife, adults know what they want and don’t want. There is no time for games because we never know when we’ll get struck by a bus or wander onto a bus and never return. We accept our partner’s wrinkles and well-earned laugh lines, and we’re positively giddy that we can enjoy romance again. My more-than-significant-other got a job in Idaho, moved in with me, and we never looked back. He loved my children and I loved his. One benefit of middle-aged marriage is that there aren’t any in-law issues to handle. Our surviving parents just want us to be happy. If only they could remember our names!

We married on an island in Greece with a bevy of Greeks who couldn’t speak English. We sang, ate, and danced beside the sea. The following Christmas we hung mistletoe over the doorway and in front of children and grandchildren we kissed, much longer than necessary. We celebrated our current love and future journey, ever mindful that we could have missed this splendid opportunity for happiness. Occasionally I’ll bring home a cheesecake to refresh the memories of our first dinner together. We share a few bites, floss and take our vitamins, and then turn down the lights.

Today’s blog was fueled by a 2007 Canoe Ridge Estate Merlot from Chateau Ste. Michelle. This delightful wine is from Horse Heaven Hills in Washington State. Some fabulous wines are coming from Washington, and the wineries are calling me: Road trip!