POTPOURRI

A little of this and that today:

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I saw a magazine advertisement that suggested buying "Snuggies" -- those blankets that are constructed to be worn during the cold winter days and nights -- for everyone on your list. It also showed a special snuggie for your dog, which came in pink and blue, and in sizes extra-small, small, and medium. Poor big dogs get left out in the cold.

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Yesterday when we came home from our errands there was a Lincoln Towncar parked in front of our apartment and two older gentlemen dressed nattily in sports coats and slacks standing at the car door talking. I was sure they were members of a religious group known for dressing nicely and going door to door with their literature, and I wondered how on earth they were going to avoid being tattled on by disgruntled residents, since solicitors are not allowed to come into our complex. But a few minutes later one fellow got in the car and drove off. The other one walked into one of our buildings, obviously going to his apartment. Why do I tell you this innocuous event? Because it is the first time in 4 years of living here that we have seen men dressed in anything other than grubbies.

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In a magazine insert the other day I read a review on the "Dal Rae" restaurant in Pico-Rivera. This restaurant is one of the old time "Steak-House" type restaurants that are all but ghosts of the past. There used to be the Duck Press in Los Angeles, the Plush Horse in the Southbay area, the Arches in Newport Beach, the Brown Derby in Hollywood and the Sportsman Lodge in the Valley, along with zillions of others, most noted for good food, dramatic presentation, men waiters with white napkins draping over their arm. And that is where we all learned to drink gin martinis up. I think all of them are gone now -- at least in their original iteration; I think the Arches may have relocated, but according to the magazine, the Dal Rae is still up and running. The point of the article is that its menu still features items popular in 1958, the year it opened - Veal Oscar, Chateau Briand, Steak Diane, Oysters Rockefeller and Cherries Jubilee. Three cheers to the Dal Rae. 9023 Washington Boulevard, Pico Rivera.

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I read one of the "doctor" columns in the newspaper yesterday - I think in our local PE newspaper - where an elderly gent was asking why, since he was so physically fit and active, he continued to experience "shrinking" in his height and gaining size in his girth. The good doctor answered that as the spine shrinks from normal bone loss in aging, the extra flesh has to go somewhere, so it settles around the waist. In other words, (my interpretation of his remarks) if you shrink two inches, you will carry all the existing flesh and innerds that existed in those two inches in your midsection, which will have to expand to make room for them. Now really!!! It made me want to rush over to the wall and have Jerry mark my height so I can see if that is really what accounts for my growing midsection. Perhaps I'm 5'3" now instead of the 5'6" that I've always been! Or maybe I don't want to know.

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I'm presently reading Barbara Ehrenreich's new book on why positive thinking is a farce. She deals with it in many different situations - psychology, religion, business - and I have to agree with her 100%. I can't help but remember the article I read in an old issue of Psychology Today about a test with rats, wherein depressed rats had a more accurate assessment of facts than rats who had experienced positive thinking. (Now I'll explain that whole test one of these days, but trust me, it isn't as screwy as it sounds.) The positive-thinking rats weren't able to change the facts at all and they died still making positive confessions as if it would change anything. The only difference was that they died more tired than the depressed rats did!

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I got a Christmas Card from Jimmy and Roslyn Carter this year. Why?

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That's all for now, folks.