Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Midlife Cabernet: Please Don’t Pee on the Seat

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image_14That yell heard yesterday in the Minneapolis Airport was me in the women’s bathroom. In a hurry to visit the restroom before changing planes, I dashed into the first open stall, quickly arranged the paper halo around the seat, and then unwittingly sat in the residue of a squatter – those intrepid women who think they can avoid germs by hovering over the toilet and doing their business without sitting down. This physical act required thigh muscles of a wrestler and accurate aim seen only in “The Hunger Games.”

I usually follow potty patrons who have the spray radius of a spigot on an agriculture sprinkler pipe. Irrigating the back 40 acres would be easy for these squatters – just let it go, let it go. (Oops, wrong analogy.) I wonder if the guilty gushers ever think to look back and maybe gauge if any urine actually got into the bowl. With the automatic flushers, it’s difficult to determine. Still, they might try observing the obvious puddles around the seat and the foul lake on the floor. Unless there is a potting training or health issue, there is no excuse for peeing on the seat and leaving it there. Especially if I’m next in line.

Most of us assume we can enter a public restroom and leave without needing to shower and get a penicillin shot. Now we must scope out the stall and prepare to do janitorial duty. Maybe we could have a chart on the back of the door for squatters to add stars in they can hit the bowl and not leave a mess. Otherwise, slap on the paper, Sister, and sit down like the rest of us.

In my travels, I have encountered various types of facilities. In Egypt, you pay an attendant in a public restroom and she will give you one tiny sheet of toilet paper. More pay, more paper. In Thailand, the toilet and the shower were in the same room without a separating wall or curtain. The public bathroom in India offered a hole in the ground and two footrests – but the floor was in gleaming marble. In England, the shared water closet was at the end of the hall and the commode was activated by pulling on a chain. But here in the USA, we have a wonderful invention that removes everything automatically without stress – if used correctly.

One more point. The women’s public bathrooms usually have a long line of squirming women because men design airports, sporting events, and theaters. If men had to wait for a private stall every time and then gyrate out of pantyhose, belts, and buttons while the next person was peeking under the stall to see if they were finished yet, you can bet your bulging bladder there would be ten times more bathrooms. We’d be happy if they would just double the number of facilities for women and these venues would have millions of happy, satisfied female customers. Maybe they could add special stalls designated for “Squatters Only” that would have loud buzzers for excess spraying, grates, and automatic washers on the floors. That could really piss off the worst offenders.

Laughing with Erma Bombeck and Her Friends

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To prove that I still have some funny bones that can move without aching, I registered for the 2014 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in Dayton, Ohio. Then I applied and was selected to perform a stand-up comedy routine. As a vindication for unappreciated class clowns everywhere, I was excited to perform in front of a room full of laughing people drinking wine. That’s my target audience.

So, I packed my bag and flew to Dayton, mumbling my routine on the plane. No one bothers a 62-year-old woman talking to herself, so it was a pleasant trip. I arrived at the registration table to retrieve the official Erma Bombeck tote bag and materials. Then I found a glass of wine and a good chair and examined the program. The most difficult decisions were choosing which of the 37 amazing workshops I would attend. I felt like it was Happy Hour at the wine bar and every selection was top shelf.

Here’s a synopsis of the eight workshops I attended. “Chick Wit: Writing the Humorous Memoir” became a comedy sketch by bestselling author Lisa Scottoline and her delightful daughter Francesca Serritella. The audience was howling by 9:30 am – and that was without needing adult beverages. Their advice was to find humor in the details of ordinary life, make the mundane hilarious, and remember that tragedy plus time equals comedy. That’s why my long life is one timeless joke.

“Exploit a joke about yourself,” said Scottoline. “When I have too many gray chin hairs, I’m an Amish man!”

Then I attended a Stand-Up Comedy Book Camp by Leighann Lord, a sassy comic who performs around the world and writes a weekly humor blog titled The Urban Erma. She coached those of us participating in the Stand-up Comedy Program. She advised us to go for the first laugh and open strong, and to remember that the audience immediately spots a fraud. She said to sense the tolerance but don’t be afraid to be edgy because people want to laugh or they wouldn’t be there.

“Expletives are like cooking with spices,” she said. “Don’t overuse or you’ll ruin the recipe.”

After a festive and fun-filled lunch, we broke for one of five workshops. I chose “Column Writing: How Personal is Too Personal?” Sometimes I worry if my blogs provide too much information as I write about irritable bowel syndrome, midlife mating, and my adventures with eldercare. This workshop was taught by Gina Barreca, the wild and wonderful author of eight books, including the bestselling They Used to Call Me Snow White But I Drifted. She noted that women are often the objects and victims of humor but we can change that perception. Women should embrace their calling to write and be funny.

“Just stop apologizing for everything!” she said. “Shut the hell up about being sorry if it’s going to rain!”

“Women Writing Their Lives – Truth-Telling, Wisdom and Laughter” was a dynamic session led by Suzanne Braun Levine, the first editor of Ms. Magazine, Gina Barreca, bestselling humor author and professor, and Ilene Beckerman, who began her successful writing career at age 60 . These women inspired the rest of us to never give up, to keep writing, and to honor our distinct voice. Donna Cavanagh, founder of HumorOutcasts.com, challenged her group to “Write Out Loud” and learn the applications for social media. These workshops taught us that humor writing can be a serious business.

Tracy Beckerman, writer of the syndicated column “Lost in Suburbia,” gave a crash course in branding and instructed us how to define content, stake out a niche, and own a corner of the writing world. She provided valuable information about how to trademark and copyright our work, how to bundle with various social media sites, and what techniques to use to improve our web sites. It was a college course condensed into 60 minutes. By then, it was time for my nap but I was too energized to stop.

“Surround your brand but don’t suffocate it,” she said. “Don’t always do self-promotion but include other writers and other links.”

Judy Carter, the bestselling author of The Humor Bible, kept us in stitches as she told hilarious anecdotes and gave advice about how to use humor in public speaking. She said the first rule to being humorous was to start with a tragic or painful experience and then transform the story to make people laugh.

“Turn your problems into punchlines,” she said. “Humor is my anti-depressant of choice.”

The conference ended with the Stand-Up Comedy program, and as I walked on stage, I glanced at the larger-than-life picture of Erma Bombeck. I imagined that she smiled at me as I took the microphone. I told stories about cutting off a Spanx garment, dropping toenails in my soup, and farting during a massage. The presentation was different from the commence addresses I usually give to schools and universities. We all laughed together, and though I was one of the oldest ones at the event, at that moment I felt like a young and vibrant woman. Thanks, Erma.

 

Midlife Cabernet Receives Four Stars from ForeWord Reviews

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photo (2)ForeWord Reviews

Clarion Review

HUMOR

Midlife Cabernet: Life, Love & Laughter after Fifty

Elaine Ambrose

Mill Park Publishing

978-0-9883980-7-8

Four Stars (out of Five)

Elaine Ambrose’s Midlife Cabernet: Life, Love & Laughter after Fifty is an Erma Bombeck-esque tribute to women who are over fifty and ready to explore life on new terms. It’s a humorous and sassy-yet-compassionate view of life over the hill, as well as a retrospective on the climb to the top.

In a series of themed essays in which her enjoyment of good wine is the connecting thread, Ambrose eschews ladylike censoring in her tale of life over fifty. With frank sexual references, sagging body parts, and visits to the plastic surgeon, Ambrose moves the reader from skin-deep concerns to the social and emotional challenges of working motherhood, child rearing (“It comes down to survival of the funniest”), post-career life transitions, friends with later-inlife illnesses, the richness of decades-long friendships, empty-nest syndrome, caring for older parents, and the joys and challenges of grandchildren. Through it all, Ambrose returns to the metaphor of good wine, facetious in her described devotion to celebrating the special occasions as well as the everyday: “I’ll drink fine wine if my hangnail heals.”

The writing and mechanics are solid, and the midlife focus is perfectly matched by the cover, with its antique typewriter. What is mostly a punchy and humorous series of essays—(“If you are what you eat, I’m a gigantic chocolate chip cookie floating in a vat of red wine”)—at times turns tangential, such as when, in an essay about bad investments and “avoid[ing] crooks,”

Ambrose dives into a nostalgic reflection on what she learned in English class, thanking her “heroes” (English teachers), who taught her how to diagram a sentence. Later chapters also contain lists of a mix of sensible and humorous advice for travel with grandchildren and travel alone, lists that at times lack the same energy exuded in earlier chapters.

Throughout, though, the tone is cheerful and friendly. Ambrose reads like a not-too-tired fifty-something who still has the energy to play a joke on a friend, enjoy romance with her spouse, and hop around with grandkids—appreciating life all the more when in relief against its inevitable challenges.

Midlife Cabernet is an argument for joy despite parents with dementia, grandchildren with Down syndrome, financial loss, broken relationships, and slow metabolisms: “Your challenge throughout the year is to keep the music playing. Sing and play your own songs long after the confetti is thrown into the garbage, the bills are past due, and prosperity is still elusive.” Ambrose will draw readers looking for frank conversation and a pick-me-up in the face of all the challenges midlife has to offer.

Heather Weber

Midlife Cabernet: Laugh More, Whine Less

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I laugh like a donkey. There is nothing dignified or lovely about the way I guffaw. My face contorts like a scorched plastic beer cup in a campfire, my eyes water, my lips pull back from my teeth, my nose runs, and strange sounds erupt with every boisterous barnyard outburst. Still, it feels good and the experience is SO much better than stabbing someone with a fork.

Babies are born with the ability to laugh and they make their first tiny chuckles when they’re around four months old. Normal, mature adults reduce themselves to exaggerated clowns when trying to cause a baby to giggle. It’s grand fun for everyone, unless the adult is driving on the freeway or participating in an important conference call. Way too soon the darling cherubs grow into teenagers and the delightful expressions are replaced with bored aloofness, rolled eyes, and exasperated retorts. And, the teens are just as bad.

As a professional people-watcher, I’ve noticed that there is a huge laughter deficit depressing the country. The only hilarious sounds of glee come from kids (without electronics) on the playground or from drunks whose Happy Hour was extended to closing time. The nightly news only confirms my observations: people are distraught and need counseling because one of the main characters died on “The Good Wife” television show or mad enough to sue because they fell down on an icy sidewalk – during a blizzard.

Many of my middle-aged friends are weary of miserable people whining because they are offended, outraged, or inconvenienced. We’ve lived through enough decades to know that life isn’t fair but it’s still wonderful and, given the choice, we’d rather eat, drink, and be merry with a dedicated optimist than wallow in the muck with Sadsack Suzy and her sorry friend Woe-is-Me. We’re ever-ready to help someone through the bad times, but we’re convinced that someday we’ll share a belly laugh again. Pinky promise.

This week the family adults gathered to celebrate my daughter’s birthday. Of course, we met at a local wine bar to make merry, cause mayhem, and support the local economy. The evening quickly turned into a sophomoric party as we took photographs in various poses to show our true irreverent and uninhibited personalities. The resulting photos proved why no children were allowed and why the young parents were grateful that their babysitters could sit through multiple showings of the newly released DVD of Disney’s movie Frozen. We had a few hours of free time without the song “Let it Go” playing a nonstop loop through our brains.

As we looked at the cell phone photos of our spontaneous, immature actions, we broke onto convulsive howls of laughter followed by uncontrolled fits of giggles. Yes, we were silly. And, yes, we loved it. And I didn’t give a rip that once again I looked and sounded like a demented donkey. With the grand occasion of my daughter’s birthday, I can count more than three decades that my children have made me laugh. And that is reason enough to toss back the head and let it go…

Midlife Cabernet: Table of Contents and Free Chapter

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1. Going Under and Beyond the Knife

2. Midlife Dating and Mating

3. Arousing Fifty Shades of Grey Matter

4. Mother Bear

5. What the Hell Happened to My Body?

6. Blending Fine Wine and Vintage Friends

7. Enlightenment After the Age of Aquarius

8. Observing the Daze in Holidays

9. Desperately Seeking Self-Confidence

10. Blended Families: A Bit Shaken and Stirred

11. Traveling Beyond the Farm

12. The Proper Care and Coddling of Curmudgeons

13. A Time to Laugh, a Time to Get a Weapon

14. It’s Time to Face the Music

15. When It’s Party Time at the Empty Nest

16. Adventures in Eldercare

17. Grandkids as Speed Bumps

18. Know Your Roots and Color if Necessary

If you would like to receive a free copy of the first chapter of Midlife Cabernet, please send an email to [email protected] and request either the word document or the PDF version.

Midlife Cabernet: Bad Grandma

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My two granddaughters, ages 6 and 4, came to play with me while their parents were out of town. The first ten minutes were splendid. No screaming, no urgent demands for gourmet food, and no poop on the dining table. Then all hell broke loose. Mr. Bill and the Waldorf doll opened the Crown Royal, the Potato Head cowboy seduced Ms. Carrot with chocolates and wine, and the runaway bunny ran away but his mommy didn’t care.

The parents were gone less than an hour before the playroom resembled the aftermath of a violent tornado, a chaotic cavalcade of cups and carving knives covered my kitchen floor, and a bag of reward treats mysteriously disappeared. I considered calling the airport to stop their airplane, but the older child had taken my phone, locked herself in the bathroom, and was downloading game apps while the younger girl climbed the plant stand to pull off and eat all the leaves from my prized Christmas cactus. I glanced at my watch: only five hours until bedtime. Could I endure?

We played for hours and made crafts, read books, and enjoyed a tea party with the teddy bears. After dinner, we all got soaked as I attempted to give them a bath. The evening ended with story time and rocking the little one. As they snuggled into bed, I turned on the lullaby channel on the Pandora station and expressed gratitude that no blood had been shed. Studley slipped me a glass of wine and we quietly celebrated. Day one, mission accomplished.

Over the next few days I followed my daughter’s two-page, detailed schedule with instructions for medicine dosages, organic and gluten-free foods, pre-school times, and where to catch the bus for elementary school. Occasionally I can follow directions so both children were fed, dressed, and transported to the appropriate places, giving me time to go home and stand in a hot shower until my eye stopped twitching.

By the fourth day, playtime was less structured, dessert came first, and I lost my daughter’s instructions. My activities probably wouldn’t be sanctioned by the local mommy clubs, but we laughed ourselves silly telling knock-knock jokes and staging antics with the toys. Who knew the Waldorf doll was such a scamp?

(Note to my daughter: None of this is true. Well, the part about poop on the dining table really happened, but the person involved and the table have been cleaned.)

By the end of our time together, we had listened to the theme song “Let it Go” from the Disney movie Frozen approximately 836 times. The song was more than three minutes long, so it provided the perfect bribe and distraction for combing through wet hair. That tactic was nicer than having them bite on pencils while I untangled the mess.

The parents returned and brought me fresh bread and fine wine from San Francisco. I really should reward them because it was a great time and I love those little girls with all my heart. Now the house is way too quiet, but I’ll adjust. So until next time, Pumpkin and Sweetie Pie, keep singing and don’t forget that Tutu has more stories to tell. You’ll never believe what those naughty teddy bears did today!

Today’s blog was fueled by a vibrant and luscious 2008 Black Tears Malbec from Argentina. At $90 a bottle, it should be saved for special occasions, such as when the house is quiet and you don’t have to wear pajamas. Join the wine club at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle and it’s only $60 a bottle. You’ll save $30 to help pay for shock therapy to get the Disney song out of your head!