Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

You are here: Home / Archives for #humor

#humor

Prom Dress or Pole Dancer Costume?

By

gold dress

One of the many advantages of being a crusty curmudgeon is that I can shake my head, roll my eyes, and mutter about this spring’s sexualized prom dresses displayed by petulant teenage girls taking duck-faced selfies while festooned like bridesmaids and pole dancers pecking about on teeny high-heeled sandals. The guys will be suffering inside a tuxedo while lamenting that the tux rental cost more than a tank of gas and a case of beer. All the commercialized commotion is for a dance that they’ll attend for a few minutes.

According to CBS News Money Watch, the average cost of going to the prom is around $1,000 to cover the proposal, attire, limousine rental, tickets, flowers, pictures, and after-party festivities. That doesn’t include additional expenses for hair, nails, pedicures, and make-up applications, presumably for the females.

Getting dressed up to go to prom is a special tradition, and I don’t mind the youngsters removing their holey jeans, trench coats, and dog collars to wear some fancy duds. I do reserve the freedom to poke fun at some of the dresses. I grew up on a farm, sewed my own simple prom dress, and was escorted to the dance as a passenger in a cattle truck. I still had a great time, even with a speck of manure on my sensible shoes.

For fun indignation, let’s review some of this year’s fashions.

cinderella dress

The Promgirl.com website offers that latest styles in prom dresses, along with tips for planning and surviving the perfect prom. One voluminous gown, appropriately called the Disney Cinderella Forever Enchanted Keepsake Gown is only $495 and is perfect for an aspiring princess. However, any dress that needs six names is excessive.

maxi dress

For only $49, you can buy the Floor Length Maxi Dress that doesn’t even come close to being enchanted or a keepsake. However, it might come in handy in the summer to cover the picnic table.

black romper

For the indecent ingénue, there’s this spring’s Black Romper for $69. This ensemble should come with a $2 condom. At least the Disney Cinderella Forever Enchanted Keepsake Gown requires a bit of imagination. It’s interesting to note that prom.com offers 62 styles of prom dresses for pregnant women, just in time for the dances that will come eight months after the spring fling.

gold dress

The “shimmering foil jersey fabric with seductive mesh detailing” is advertised as a knockout prom dress that accentuates all the right curves. Those of us with back fat and the desire to sit down should not attempt this garment. Not many parents are buying the outfit because the price is reduced from $278 to $99, but that’s a bargain for any future stripper. A credit card reader is optional.

prom gown

One sophisticated prom dress costs $1,224. You can get the same look by shrinking a $5 t-shirt and wrapping yourself in $45 worth of satin. Stash the remaining $1,174 into your college fund and plan your own clothing line.

Maybe it’s with nostalgia instead of criticism that I disapprove of modern styles. I vaguely remember being young and idealistic when preparing for the prom, and I have fond memories of all the crepe paper streamers, printed dance cards, loud gymnasiums, and grand processions. It was that unique time when we all wanted to grow up, and we didn’t have a clue what that meant. So, I’ll smile at all the young couples stuffed into costumes, corsets, and cummerbunds, and encourage them to enjoy life before they turn into cantankerous curmudgeons. Just stay off of my lawn.

 

Airport Bathrooms can Drain Your Soul

By

 

 

 

woman toilet (Featured on The Huffington Post Travel, March 27, 2015)

As a frequent traveler through life and space, I often have the need to use a restroom in an airport. Such necessary actions require tenacity, humility, and tolerance, human attributes that may not eagerly spring into action after sitting four hours on a plane with a middle-age bladder.

Airport bathrooms were designed by evil people who hate women. Schlepping my carry-on luggage, I get in line for the women’s restroom, and woe to anyone who takes cuts. Once inside, I join others who resemble a herd of bowing, pack-laden peasants as we peek under doors to find an unused toilet. I wrangle two plump pieces as I wiggle inside the stall then pull the luggage tight to my body so I can close the door. Then I shift the ensemble against the door so I have room. I dutifully place the tissue ring around the seat but usually the automatic flusher operates and pulls the tissue down even before I can sit.

I don’t dare sit down without the tissue because the woman before me decided to save time by squatting and spraying the entire seat. So, I straddle the toilet, pull down another tissue, quickly slap it onto the seat and try to maneuver into position before the flusher goes off again. The same thing happens. It’s not a pleasant or quality use of my time to be trapped into a crowded stall with my pants down while screaming at a commode that continues to mock me by flushing on a whim. I suspect demented staff members are operating remote control flush switches and arbitrarily decide which hapless women to torment. I look around for hidden cameras and notice there isn’t any toilet paper.

After a woman successfully manipulates the toilet, then she must wrangle the luggage back out of the stall, stand in line for the sink, wave her hands under the sporadic soap dispenser and hope it works, wash her hands and then find the towels which are inexplicably across the room in a corner next to the woman washing her feet in the sink. Then she throws her used towel into the waste receptacle that reeks of soiled diapers.

Meanwhile, male travelers saunter into their restrooms, whip out and empty their hoses without needing a stall, wash their hands, admire themselves in the mirror, chat with the guys, and are on their second beer at the bar by the time the women straggle out of the bathroom, dragging strips of toilet paper on their shoes.

“What took you so long,” a naive man will ask, but only once.

2015-03-27-1427473958-8777852-airportbathroom.jpg

After a recent long-distance flight, I pranced to the nearest bathroom only to find it closed. Why can’t the maintenance people schedule their cleaning routines around arrival times? If they know a plane loaded with 200 people is landing in 30 minutes, by all means get into that restroom and tidy up because there will be at least 100 females making a stampede for the four available stalls. And, a closed restroom could result in desperate women marching into the men’s room. Been there, done that, didn’t care.

A few times, I’ve enjoyed the privilege of a privy in an airline’s executive lounge. The women’s restrooms are spacious and clean, and have real towels and free breath mints. There aren’t any lines, the stalls are big enough to host a cocktail party (not that you would want to do that), and the automatic flushers politely wait until you have finished your business. Obviously, these facilities were designed by distinguished women who travel.

Caveat #1: Now that this rant has washed away, I’d like to acknowledge the wonder of flying. This week I sat in a chair in a tube with hundreds of other passengers and flew at 38,000 feet over the Pacific Ocean. There were 100,000 flights that day, and thousands of people traveled through airports. The common ordeal of finding a lavatory pales in comparison to the glorious ability to seek adventure and not bitch about inconveniences.

Caveat #2: I’ve enjoyed opportunities to travel the world, and each exotic place comes with customary bathroom facilities. In India, our modern rest stop included a room with a tile-lined hole in the ground and two foot rests. In Nepal, we used a log over a ditch. One facility in South Africa offered a room of toilets without partitions or toilet paper. Many locations and homes in our own country still use outhouses. I recognize my comic rants as First World problems, and I’m grateful for indoor plumbing. Now, onto the next adventure.

Public Breastfeeding can be Expressed in Good Taste

By

(Featured on the Huffington Post Comedy on March 16, 2015)

public breastfeeding

 

I recently attended an elegant wedding at a seaside resort where the gift table and the guests were well-endowed. However, there was some engorged indignation at the reception as two perky women nursed their babies without discreetly covering the bobbing heads of the darling sucklings.

One of the bridesmaids conveniently wore a strapless gown to easier facilitate the moveable feast. Reaction to the public display of liberal lactation ranged from frothed and pumped up annoyance to flowing praise for the natural and healthy nourishment between the mother and child reunion.

It sucks to be criticized for using a supply on demand device for its original purpose.

“Oh, my, I must warn Harold not to go over there,” a woman muttered to a group of older guests with permed hair, lace hankies and sensible shoes.

“I haven’t seen this many bare breasts since I watched a National Geographic documentary about African tribes.”

“In my day we discreetly fed our babies under a blanket, and my mother hired a nurse maid for her children,” snorted another lady.

The younger crowd seemed nonchalant and didn’t latch onto the uncomfortable tension that leaked into the room. They laughed the night away, draining jugs of wine until they acted like boobs.

To insure that the event wasn’t a total bust, they danced through the spot so the hooters could hoot, the knockers could knock, and the stranded friends could wean themselves away from the dried up and sagging patrons. In a final tit-for-tat, the young adults pulled the older folks out of their bondage and onto the dance floor to lift and separate their drooping spirits.

By then, the contented babies were asleep and the milked mothers had a few hours to pad themselves and dance the Fandango until the cows came home. That way, they could have their wedding cake and eat it too.

The best formula for enjoying a special occasion that involves young couples is to anticipate the appearance of at least one nursing mother.

Offended people can choose to avert their attention to the drunken uncle or the pouting teenager, or the Rod Stewart impersonator in the band. The public nursing only lasts a few minutes and the alternative is to hear a screaming baby and witness a swollen mother in pain.

I nursed my two babies each for a year, and it was a rewarding experience. I never walked around in public hooked up to the little buggers, but I don’t disapprove of those who do. There are far too many neglected babies who hunger for the affection and attachment of loving mothers.

After my children were grown, I cleaned out the house and found a little bottle of breast milk saved in the back of the basement freezer. My younger child was 18 years old and didn’t need it. I couldn’t throw it away so I lovingly placed the bottle into a velvet Crown Royal pouch and buried it under the rose-bush in the back yard. I probably need counseling for that.

The Ugly Reality of Fake Beauty

By

elaine photoshoppedelaine old 3

 

Two photographs of me taken 15 minutes apart illustrate the powerful allure of altered images. In one photograph, I look like a sagging, seasoned but sassy senior citizen. In the other one, I resemble the beautiful actress Katherine Zeta Jones. It’s amazing what a talented professional photographer can do with a new software program that rearranges facial features. I should wear a mask of the fabulous phony face, but then I couldn’t eat chocolate or drink wine, so I’ll stay with the contented crone.

Let’s face it: The dramatic but artificial improvement is shocking. The only similarities in the two photos are my jacket and jewelry. The rest is fake. Bogus. Counterfeit. But, damn, I would love to look like that.

With that face, doors would open, opportunities suddenly would appear, and strangers would buy me drinks in bars. With that face, I could walk into a fancy store and the salespeople would actually pay attention, a phenomenon I haven’t experienced in more than 20 years. I could probably get my own reality show on television, using no talent at all. That perfect pose would be published in magazine advertisements and on weight-loss product packaging. Imagine the unlimited scenarios.

Reality can be a bitch. If I used that photo on resumes or business cards, people would be overcome with disappointment when they met the real me. The manipulated image wouldn’t be accepted when I tried to use my driver’s license or passport. And, I’d lose the respect from friends and associates who know the authentic me. They would laugh in my normal face.

Full disclosure: I did use some of the photographs taken by the professional photographer. Some of the skin imperfections were erased and she caught my irreverent attitude, but the images still resemble me. The best one now is on the front page of my website. Don’t judge.

The ugly reality of fake beauty is that it removes authenticity. I never looked like the glamorous photo and I never will. And, that’s okay. Older women have earned their laugh lines, and their faces gain a certain grandeur as their jowls droop into their necks. Living long enough to sprout age spots and wrinkles is a privilege denied to many. Two good friends died recently, and they won’t have the opportunity to grow older and look more glorious with age. It may sound cliché, but for them, I’ll focus on inner beauty. I’ll also be grateful for another day to annoy or humor people. That’s real.

 

The Midlife Blogger Booster Shot

By

BAMbam panel end

Do you want to reinvent yourself? Attend an inspirational conference for midlife bloggers. Not since Scarlett O’Hara transformed velvet drapes into an elegant gown to hide her poverty in the movie Gone With the Wind has there been such an effective way to announce, “I adapted, I survived, I am relevant!” And, there was no need for Rhett Butler.

Women came through snowstorms, insecurities, and other obstacles to register for the premier BAM Bloggers at Midlife Conference last week in Nashville, Tennessee. Reinvention became our rejuvenating booster shot that opened our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our mouths to holler, “I’m still here!”

The BAM Conference was the creation of Sharon Greenthal and Anne Parris, founders of www.midlifeboulevard.com, and Teresa Kindred, owner of www.NanaHood.com, and  Beth Rosen, owner 4 Keys Media. Midlife Boulevard is an online magazine for and about women over age 40. More than 300 writers contribute to the site, and the Facebook page has more than 1,100 followers.

teresa kindred

More than 100 of us found our way through the Gaylord Opryland Hotel and Resort. The first cocktail party was engaging as we recognized our best friends we’d never before met. We knew each other from our blogs and online photographs. We laughed as old friends as we noshed on comfort food and macaroni and cheese, generously supplied by the party’s sponsor Stouffer’s. For me, it paired nicely with a delicate Pinot Noir.

elisa bam

The next day, we enjoyed an informal chat with Elisa Camahort Page, the co-founder of BlogHer. She was interviewed by star blogger Danyelle Little and explained how she reinvented herself with every job and situation. Prior to co-founding BlogHer, Elisa ran a marketing consultancy, Worker Bees, which was among the first companies to integrate corporate marketing strategies into the social media environment. Page and the other two founders were named among the seven most powerful people in new media by Forbes Magazine. She encouraged us to keep going, make dreams concrete, and not to rely on others for personal validation.

“If your risk fails, try again,” was her challenge.

Tracy Beckerman, columnist, author and humorist, encouraged bloggers to find their unique voices. She advocated learning how to do videos and insert them into their blogs and websites. She also said to be conscious of how their websites appear in mobile applications and to develop products and services that match their themes. Beckerman recommended getting a federal trademark for each blog and know the legal rules for social media and Internet practices. She also said to add a hashtag on every blog and email.

In between speakers and workshops, the participants snacked on more delicious macaroni and cheese from Stouffer’s and tangy choices of cheese from Cabot Cheese. Other goodies included tools from Collective Bias and Vibrant Nation. A gleaming car from Nissan waited in the lobby, and many participants were tempted to get in to drive their way around the sprawling resort.

Other tidbits of advice from the speakers and workshops:

Lori Moreno, a social media expert, said to stop counting the number of likes on Facebook and focus on how many sales result from your blog. Build a community behind your brand, and highlight midlife issues, quotes, and products.

Jodi Okun, the twitter expert with more than 100,000 followers and ranked in the Top 30 Social Influencers in Personal Finance & Wealth, recommended that bloggers follow journalists to find story ideas. She also said to follow all the BAM participants and sponsors on Twitter. By the end of her presentation, the BAM Conference was trending on Twitter.

Wendy Walker Cushing introduced the wide world of Pinterest. Her account has more than 38,500 followers, and she advised bloggers not to make all their posts about themselves but to publish interesting articles about others and do seasonal boards on Pinterest.

Martie Duncan, the Food Network Star Finalist and Party Planner, reaffirmed the importance of reinvention. She noted that at any party, the people are more important than the food. She told the engaging story of how she volunteered to cook lunch in a fire station so she would have a dish to take to a televised competition. She won. She said to ignore the media judgments that say midlife women are too old, not sexy, and washed up. Find your purpose, she said, and go on your mission to shine.

Pamela Lutrell, author of the blog Over 50 Feeling 40, is the weekly fashion and style columnist for Midlife Boulevard. She encouraged bloggers to walk with strength, confidence, and joy with a charming personal style. She explained how she makes money and receives products and services through her blog.

Danyelle Little, author of the wildly popular and financially successful blog The CubicleChick, shared her newsworthy items relating to workplace issues and lifestyle. Her audience includes working parents, entrepreneurs, and readers of all ages. She coaches other bloggers how to make money from their blogs, embrace referrals, bring others with you, know your worth, and believe in the “old girl network.”

Kymberly Williams-Evans and Alexandra Willliams are witty twin sisters with a blog called funandfit.org: Active Aging for Boom Chicka Boomers. They showed us how to create an impressive media kit and included links for additional information. The links will be available on the Midlife Boulevard website. The sisters reminded the bloggers not to give away their talents, products, and services.

Rebecca Parsons, CEO of REP MEdia, Publisher & Editor-in-Chief of Cre8tive Compass Magazine, explained her experiences on Blogtalk Radio, and encouraged bloggers to talk and write about how life impacts others, not just themselves. She represented Collective Bias, the company that provided a delicious lunch.

I joined the publishing panel with Susan Lee Maccarelli‎ of Beyond Your Bloggers, Mary Dell Harrington, Lisa Heffernam, and Melissa T. Shultz. We encouraged bloggers to get published and to consider the traditional route as well as self-publishing opportunities. Macarelli is the blogging guru who offers valuable advice, links, and support for bloggers of all ages.

The conclusion panel included speakers Nordette Adams, a contributing editor at BlogHer, Sharon Greenthal, Dr. Margaret Rutherford, and Beth Rosen. The best news was the introduction of BAM 2016 in April. The bloggers ended the conference weary but energized and some had plans for another reinvention. And, then we left to return home and write more blogs.

BAM write blog outside

I found some free time in the giant atrium to write two blogs. (Ignore empty wine glass.) One blog described the problem with finding fashionable and comfortable shoes, especially when navigating the mazes of the resort. The second blog celebrated my 400th post and was dedicated to my daughter who taught me how to blog in 2008. Both blogs were published on The Huffington Post.

speaker bam

The first time I reinvented myself was during elementary school. I was a tall, uncoordinated, goofball with glasses and frizzy hair, and I desperately wanted to be one of the cool kids, so I started telling jokes and writing funny stories. I remained a clumsy clown, but I had lots of friends.

After decades of reinventing myself, it’s nice to know there are other women who have followed the same sporadic path. As in an extended version of the hopscotch game, we’ve landed on one square with two solid feet, pranced and pivoted around a few single squares, and occasionally tumbled off the intended route. But, we always got back up and adjusted our crown, attitude, and/or destination. The BAM Conference 2015 was a booster shot for those of us who have more life to live. And more than one of us will fall on the grand staircase, raise our fist in salute to Miss Scarlett, and declare, “I will never go hungry again!”

 

400 Blogs, One Daughter

By

elaine emily cabo 2014

 

It’s only appropriate that I dedicate this blog to my daughter Emily Nielsen. It’s the 400th blog that I’ve published on this website, and it wouldn’t have happened without her loving guidance and encouragement.

“Get off your butt, Mom, and write something,” were her tender words of motivation. They echo as a gentle melody that meanders through my memories. She truly cared about me.

I was 56 and going through a second divorce. I felt like a total loser. All my career and parenting successes were negated by my monumental failures in marriage, and I plunged into the pathetic abyss of abandoning all hope. I moped. I chewed my fingernails to bloody stumps. I glumly took 15 items in the 10 items checkout lane. I ate chocolate and drank wine. Before noon.

It was 2008, and the domain name of www.elaineambrose.com was still available. My energetic and confident 30-year-old daughter showed me how to obtain the name and set up a website. Then she showed me the elementary instructions for writing a blog. With a background in journalism, I loved to write short feature articles between 500-1000 words. The challenge was exciting.

I decided to call the blog “Midlife Cabernet” and I wrote simple but humorous stories about life as a middle-aged clown. I included recommendations for wine and where to obtain the best bottles. The new activity gave me a purpose, and I boldly jumped into the blogosphere.

Today I’m in Nashville, Tennessee as a speaker at the premiere conference for BAM – Bloggers at Midlife. I belong to a growing sisterhood of women over age 45 who write and publish stories online. The blogs are varied and important.

* Several women write about the highs and lows of the “empty nest.”

* Some write about having children with special needs who always will live at home, so there won’t be an empty nest.

* Other write about food and share wonderful and creative recipes.

* We blog about grandchildren, marriage, divorce, fitness, travel, psychology, sex, and do-it-yourself projects.

* Of top importance, we blog because we’re not done yet. In a world of youth and changing technology, we refuse to become irrelevant.

*So, we blog.

So much has happened over the past seven years. I met a delightful man I call Studley, we married on the Greek island of Paros and moved into our forever home. Both of my children had children of their own, and his children embarked on collegiate and military careers. My mother passed away after an extended illness. Through all these adventures and experiences, I blogged. My topics ranged from the joys of eldercare to wondering why my body was morphing into a pile of dough. People read my blogs, and thanked me for the laughs and tears. I read theirs, and returned the thanks.

So, it’s with delicious appreciation that I finish the 400th blog and tie it with a virtual ribbon to say “Thank you” to Emily. Without her inspiration, I’d be wallowing down by the river sucking cheap wine from a paper bag. She helped save my life. I think I’ll blog about it.