Archives 2025

Just about all surgeries these days are outpatient. This means that spouses are involved. They have to get the patient there, wait for a long time in a waiting room with a group of other spouses, drinking vile coffee and watching the office TV on a loop of Antique Roadshow reruns.

My husband had a red thing (actual medical term) show up on his nose suddenly. The dermatologist biopsied it, which removed the spot, but not enough of it, because the spot was cancerous. Basal cell. The kind that doesn’t kill you but keeps coming back if you don’t get it all. And this biopsy didn’t get it all. It looked like she got it all, but the margins weren’t clear.

So the day of the surgery came. I had my Kindle loaded, my NYT games at the ready, and I was looking forward to sitting in the waiting room doing nothing for about two hours. Doing nothing is something I am good at, but I usually feel guilty about doing it. This was a day of required doing nothing, and I was looking forward to it.

I opened Spelling Bee. It was going to be a hard one, but I got vandal and diva right off the bat. My brain cells were all firing, and I didn’t even notice that I was the only person in the waiting room without a walker. I was starting to have fun out there. Just as I was contemplating vector, but damn, there was not an e on the board, when my husband returned to the waiting room. He stood in front of me and said, “Molly, they need you back there.”

Of course, I do know a LOT about medicine. I know what COPD is. I know the best treatment for hiccups is to drink water backwards from a glass. I know that if you have an upset stomach or heartburn, you can dissolve about a teaspoon of baking soda in a glass of water and drink it; this is very effective. And I know that very few surgeons want the patient’s wife in the operating room. So I rose to my feet, still keeping my game turned on, thinking they just needed me to tell them something Charlie forgot–like if he has ever had whooping cough. Then I could resume. Maybe vice would work…

We got back there, and Charlie said, “Hey, they don’t know where to operate.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. They can’t find the spot where the cancer is/was, because the dermatologist forgot to take a picture of it.”

I was stunned. “What did they do in the olden days? Use permanent marker that you wore for the month before your surgery was scheduled? Or did they just not bother with face bumps? Or maybe the dermatologist just took a knife and cut the nose thing off during the office visit, taking surgeons out of the loop altogether?”

“Molly. This isn’t about history.”

“But why am I back here?”

“Because the surgeon asked if maybe my wife knew where the cancer was located.”

I felt a surge of something. Power! Importance! “You mean if I can point to the spot where this cancer is, they will go ahead and operate on my word alone?” What if I point to your ear lobe? Will they remove it on my say-so? Or your eyebrow? I can just say Off with his eyebrow! Like in Alice and Wonderland? What if I have them take your lips off?”

The surgeon interrupted my fantasy by coming in and introducing himself. Then he asked if I could point out the spot. I felt pretty sure I knew where it was, and pointed to a small red scar on Charlie’s nose. The doctor said, “Well if you just sign off on this, we can go ahead. They were willing to operate based on where I told them to do it. 

Both Charlie and I, having the same vision of Charlie with a big scar on the wrong side of his nose, both demurred, despite how flattered I was that I had sudden powers over a surgeon, for heaven’s sake.

So we were sent home, and Charlie had to go back to the dermatologist for some nose photos.

I have never in my life felt so powerful. I had lunch and absolutely ACED the Spelling Bee.

This is my mind today. I have spent about an hour trying to think of something to write about, but I have nothing. No amusing anecdotes, no criticisms of my spouse, no book lists.

TV shows? Not really, although I do recommend Dark Winds, because the actor that plays Jim Chee is extremely attractive.

Yes, I have PLENTY of ideas about what is going on in America right now. However those ideas don’t endear me to many of the people who read this blog, and so I try to steer clear of politics.

I have no ideas about fashion, although I hear that “hard pants” are out. I have no ideas about cooking, because thank goodness I don’t do that any more. I have no ideas about beauty, because I am an old woman.

Quite a few of my friends and acquaintances say things like “Oh, you should write about this!” They don’t realize that in order to write about something, you need to have more than one sentence to put on the page. Many topics that they suggest, like “Tell about the time you thought you might pass gas at the chiropractor” are just not shareable. And telling everybody why we don’t put up a Christmas tree any more is just depressing.

Give me a week, and I bet I can come up with something.

Here is a photo of my new hairstyle. It looks just like my old hairstyle. See what I mean? Nothing.

Here’s the thing. People who WIN things. If I had a nickel for every time, in their acceptances, they say they are “humbled,” I would have a large amount of money. They are not remotely humbled. You are humbled if you suddenly feel “less than.” You are not humbled by getting a medal.

If you work hard and strive, and then get to be awarded the best at something, you don’t suddenly feel like a nobody. “Nobodies” feel humble, because they are most surely not bursting with pride. They are bursting with feeling like they are just one of the herd, not leader of the pack.

This is a number one pet peeve. Do these winners feel as if saying they are humbled makes the rest of us feel more fond of them? Or makes the rest of us “non winners” feel better about ourselves? I only feel humble when I fail at doing something: like undercooking the turkey at Thanksgiving three years in a row. As a matter of fact, that humbled me so much that I stopped making turkey.

What people should actually feel humbled about:

• Forgetting why they walked into the kitchen
• Letting that pile of laundry sit there all week
• Buying those vitamin D capsules and never taking them
• Going out for dinner, then coming home and having cheese and crackers followed by 3 cookies
• Not noticing chin hairs until they are kindly pointed out
• Losing their glasses four times in one day
• Calling that woman you have met three times “Jeannine” when her name is and has always been Tanya

Humble pie. Have some…

“What is this?”

“It’s soap.”

“I know it is soap. It’s orange. We have never had orange soap.”

“So now we do.”

“Why do we suddenly have orange soap? It doesn’t smell like an orange. As a matter of fact, it smells sort of icky.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Ok. In my news feed, it says that old people have an odor. An ‘old people’ odor.”

“Oh, no. What odor is that?”

“They describe it as sort of like mushrooms and must. And apparently, when you are old, you have it.”

“Are you saying I smell like mushrooms?”

“No. But you might to other people, and so might I.”

“Has anyone told you that one of us smells?”

“Of course not. Nobody would ever say that to an old person. So savvy old people have to be proactive and start using this soap that frankly, smells awful.”

“So when we use it, we take on the odor of this orange soap that isn’t a nice citrus smell, but sort of smells heavy and frankly repellent?”

“I think it is supposed to maybe react with your body chemistry to offset the old person odor and neutralize it.”

“Or make you smell, not like an old person, but just a person that smells, instead of mushrooms, more like rotted fruit? What IS this product?”

“You sort of hit the nail on the head. It is persimmon soap. Specially formulated for those of us approaching death.”

“But nobody has even hinted that you or I smell like mushrooms?”

“Who would tell us that? Frankly, the only person I can think of who would be that honest is 8 years old and lives in California.”

“So now, because of an article on your so called news feed we are doomed to use this persimmon stuff so we smell like persimmons instead of mushrooms? I like mushrooms. I like them sautéed and on top of chicken marsala. Have you ever had persimmons?”

“Yes. Once. I wasn’t a fan.”

“But you are fine with smelling like one until you die?”

“It was in my news feed.”

“The persimmon people put it there.”

“Let’s just try it and see how people react.”

“Molly. They won’t react. Just like they aren’t reacting to the fact that we might smell like mushrooms.”

“Ha ha! But we won’t smell like mushrooms, so people won’t go home and whisper about us smelling like old people–like when they are getting ready for bed and reviewing the dinner experience.”

“One question: have you ever smelled an old person? Like, caught a whiff of mushrooms?”

“Actually, no.”

“So this is all an insurance policy against being told by an adorable 8 year old in California that we smell sort of like the inside of a closet?”

“Exactly. I rest my case.”

“Should we start giving this soap to our friends as hostess gifts–since you also read on your news feed that we need to start bringing hostess gifts?”

“Only if our hostess is over the age of 65.”

“So if we have a young hostess, what do we bring?”

“A soap DISH.”

See you next week.

Stop feeling terrible about yourself.

• If you can’t get up from sitting cross-legged on the floor without using your hands, you are not going to die within five years. For heaven’s sake, I am certain that the majority of people on Social Security can’t do this. It’s the ones who CAN that are freaks. And unless they can get right down on the floor and demonstrate, they are lying.
• You know the people who don’t eat carbs? They are lying.
• I only know one person who has actually read Ulysses. The rest of them are lying.
• People who say raw oysters are delicious MUST be lying. You are still sophisticated if you find oysters, and yes, caviar, disgusting.
• You know all those products out there for improving “crepey skin?” All lying.
• 8 glasses of water a day has been debunked so many times. It’s a lie, folks! All we need to do is drink when we are thirsty. Maybe you were in the bathroom when this was exposed as untrue.
• And you are lying to yourself when you think women have to wear thong underwear. We don’t. We can wear whatever underpants we want to. I don’t think men care about thongs. Men just care if a woman laughs at their jokes. Or touches them on the face. Or breathes near them. Thongs are not even in men’s vernacular. Sex is in their vernacular, but they would have sex with a nice woman in granny pants. Or Spanx. As long as there is a woman in the same vicinity, not a man in the world would say to himself, “If she isn’t wearing a thong, it’s a no-go.”
• When you stay in your pjs all day, you are not a lazy bum. Don’t feel guilty for not getting dressed in your own home. Those people who make you feel like a lazy bum are lying. They are probably still in their pajamas.
• And finally, when your mom told you “I can always tell when you are lying,” she was lying.

Nobody ever eats on tv. They sit down, but then something happens, and they never even take one bite. So why they set scenes at the table is beyond me. Why don’t they show crises in a living room? I know. If I got an alert during lunch that a tornado or something was coming, I would take my sandwich with me to the shelter.

There are crumbs everywhere. This is very annoying, as I am the only one around here who eats bread, and I clean up after myself. So Molly, why are there crumbs on the counter after dinner? It’s his fault–he cooks dinner with panko a lot. Right, Right. Always blame the husband. Yes! It’s always the husband who is the murderer. Why they even investigate murders is a waste of money, because it’s always the husband. But wait–sometimes it’s the wife, to be accurate. Yeah, but the wife always has logical cause.

My God. I just realized that I will go to my deathbed unable to believe how old I am.

This is so embarrassing. I just learned that I have been mispronouncing “Bona fide” and “Kudos” my entire life. I wonder what other words I have used in public and embarrassed myself. Well, you did say “DET rit us” once before being corrected. Oh, right. I wanted to crawl into a hole.

Every peach and plum you buy at the grocery store is terrible. Yes, but not to forget TOMATOES. Why do they even sell them? Who are the optimists who buy them? Molly, you bought one last week.

You always look at yourself sideways in the mirror to check to see if you are fat. This is probably stupid–it’s the rear view that is telling. Yes and that is why I always look at myself sideways.

I wonder how popcorn became the go-to at the movies. And people always get it, even at the 7:00 showing, right after dinner. Or do they just plan for it and skip dinner for the popcorn? But popcorn isn’t filling. So I guess they go home and have a sandwich or something at 10:30? I could lean over and ask someone, but that would be rude.

Do you realize that you have had this tee shirt for 40 years? So should I give it to Goodwill? Molly. What thrift shopper would want your 40 year old shirt? Well, it has a picture of John Lennon on it! I rest my case. It also has a hole under the arm. Throw it away. Wait. John might make a good dust cloth. You find it hard to divest, don’t you, Molly? Yes. Yes, I do.

If Ina Garten says “How easy is that?” One more time, I might have to kill her. But it would be sort of cool to be the person who invents a catch phrase. Oh, and what about the people who say “My motto is…” followed by an actual motto? You don’t have a motto. You could sit down for an hour and concentrate, but you could not come up with a motto. So you begrudge Ina? Yes, I do, because she says that in her zillion dollar “studio kitchen,” with a crew of dozens to chop all her ingredients and clean up after her. Of course it’s easy.

When times get tough, Hell, they are already tough and awful, just think of Taylor and Travis. Or a cat. Or Taylor’s cats. You don’t have any pictures of Taylor, Travis, Taylor and Travis, or any of Taylor’s cats, you know. I know. But any cat will do right now.

We have all thought about this. What is with nicknames? A nickname is supposed to be “short” for someone’s first name. Yes. Like “Nick,” for Nicolas.

But so many do not work that way. Where in the heck did “Peggy” come from? Margaret has no “peg” in it anywhere.  Yes, I can see “Margie,” or “Marg.” Perhaps “Meg.” But “Peggy?” And while we are at it, my name, “MOLLY,” is supposed to be a nickname for Mary. I don’t understand. This is a pet peeve. If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me if my name is really Mary, I could buy a Starbucks every single day.

And my God. “Bob” has nothing to do with Robert. “Rob” does, but who decided to put the B in there? Oh, I can go on. “Bill.” No B in William.

“DICK” for Richard???? And of course, where and when did that nickname become associated with a genital?

If your name is James, then why “Jack?” Both one syllable. What is gained by this? And “Fanny” for Francis? Insulting. Get this: “Nancy” is a nickname for Anne. A two syllable nickname for a one syllable name? Who invented this?

Let’s talk about “Hank.” Or “Harry.” What’s wrong with Henry???

You catch my drift.

So here are some just as ridiculous nicknames I invented:

Marcia–Let’s nickname her “Sophie.” Why not?

I see no reason not to call Bernard “Bill.” There’s a B in there, right?

I would like to call Martin “Shroeder.” Just as logical as any other nickname.

If a girl is named Penelope, I think “Penny” is too typical. So everybody should call her “Elo.” It’s IN THERE.

Now, there is another whole school of nicknames for kids that sprang from nowhere, or a mispronunciation of the name, or an endearing moniker. This is very common. It is not stupid, really. It is totally understandable and widely accepted.

My first child,”Tweeny,” might disagree.

I don’t know what I have been thinking. I stayed on a strict Weight Watchers regimen for two years. I didn’t weigh myself or anything, just counted points and chugged along. Nothing seemed to be happening.

Then I went in for my physical and discovered I had lost those pesky thirteen  pounds. I was elated fleetingly, until I went in to one of those stores where you get new glasses frames.

I picked out my frames, and the stock person came out of the back room holding them. I was across the store. “These are for Mrs. Campbell,” she said in a soft voice to one of her co-workers. The co-worker tipped her head in my direction, saying, in a not so sotto voice, “She’s the one over there in the baggy pants.”

I have been wearing the same size  pants for years. Granted they have gotten tight at times, but now they fit fine. I thought.

But when the same day I met my daughter for lunch, and she remarked, “Are those pants size 16 or something? They’re huge.” I guess I haven’t really studied myself in a full length mirror lately.

When I got home, I asked my husband: do you think these pants are too baggy? Do they look dumpy?”

He looked at me seriously and simply nodded.

“They look dumpy? I look dumpy?”

He shrugged and said, “You haven’t noticed that all your pants look like that? Like you got them off the wrong rack at Goodwill?”

I just got 3 new pairs of pants from Old Navy. I tried them on tonight. I LOOK DUMPY.

This is how being an old person hits you. One day you are fine, chic, and stylish, and then you wake up one morning and you are suddenly dumpy. GOODWILL DUMPY.

Back to Old Navy where my fear is that the next size down will be too tight, and so I will have to remain dumpy.

sigh

Daily horoscope for Aries

This will be a good day for you. You will find your reading glasses. Your spouse will be in a good mood because it will be in the 80’s today instead of so hot that the dog needs to wear booties while walking. Have corn on the cob and hot dogs for dinner. Don’t spit watermelon seeds on the deck.

Daily horoscope for Taurus

My God, stop complaining! Nobody at the grocery store will notice that pimple; they are all worrying about their own damn blemishes. Avoid exercise today; the barometric pressure has arthritis written all over it. You might make a new friend. But you might not.

Daily horoscope for Gemini

Good news and bad news. The good news is that your neighbor’s tomato plants are loaded, and they left today for the weekend. Stock up. The bad news: Watch for cops on the Interstate; they all have hangovers from the Policeman’s Ball, and they are out for blood.

Daily horoscope for Cancer

This is a horrible sign. Nobody wants Cancer.

Daily horoscope for Leo

You might meet a friend from the past today, so wear your good pants and stand up straight. It might be a friend you once dated, so leave your partner at home and take money with you in case that friend wants to “have coffee.” Take a shower, just in case.

Daily horoscope for Virgo

You may think you are fooling everybody, but it is obvious that your eyebrows are tattooed. So don’t get cocky. Today would be a good day to take all those old jeans in the trunk of your car to Goodwill. Call your mother.

Daily horoscope for Libra

Wear a bib if you order lobster at the restaurant tonight; you fool yourself if you think you can eat it without slopping melted butter on your Ralph Lauren polo. Don’t order dessert–my God, the melted butter alone is 1000 calories. You will ask the waiter for a box and then leave it on the table.

Daily horoscope for Scorpio

Today is a good day to start breaking destructive habits. Stop checking your Instagram account at the movies. Chew with your mouth closed. Try to only use the “F” word when you are home alone.

Daily horoscope for Sagittarius

Take it easy today. You might throw your back out. It might be a good idea to look for that heating pad up in the attic. Be sure to wear your bike helmet. Don’t even think of going bowling. And let the vacuuming go for another day. It wouldn’t hurt to take two Tylenol before you leave the house. Better yet, stay home and take a nap.

Daily horoscope for Capricorn

Romance is in the air. Is your pet spayed or neutered? Because one female cat can have two hundred kittens in her lifetime. This is a true fact, not fake news. So do the right thing for your animal and your community.  As it applies to you, make sure you use deodorant today; the opportunity for bonking might arise (pun might be intended)

Daily horoscope for Aquarius

It’s a good day for making amends. Go ahead and apologize to your mother for never responding to her texts.

Daily horoscope for Pisces

Does it ever occur to you to take out the trash without being asked? How many days have you worn the same socks? Get it together, you slob! Today would be a good day to change up your attitude along with your socks. Look at yourself in the mirror and repeat “I will stop ignoring my mom’s texts” ten times.

Have a good day out there.