SPEECHLESS

I have so much to say that I feel speechless.  But I'm sure the words will come.  Here goes... 

I cannot begin to enumerate all the ways our government is being dismantled under the Trump/Musk regime.  He is doing exactly what he said he would, but with more speed and a bigger wrecking ball.  Whatever is most cruel and illegal seems to be top of list.  Authoritarianism (the president and his merry band of Cabinet level sycophants) and oligarchy (billionaire and top campaign donor Elon Musk, unelected and unappointed, running amok shuttering programs and firing thousands of government employee while he lines his pockets with government contracts) are in charge, with the Republican Party unwilling to stop them. And while a shred of democracy still stands, many feel impotent and overwhelmed.  It's just how they want us to feel.  There is enough finger-pointing to go around and again, that would be a never-ending run-on sentence.  

So I am doing what I do.  I've become even more involved with our local Indivisible group -- a grassroots nationwide organization of activists who take to the streets and take to the ballot box and work to save democracy and support progressive causes, policies, and candidates.  It feels good.  I have found my "tribe" of resisters.  I spend a lot of time organizing, attending meetings, making phone calls to legislators, writing letters to voters -- all the things.  We are told it works.  It IS working, but slowly and maddeningly inconsistently.  

I will never, ever, ever, ever understand why people voted for this chaos and destruction, nor why they continue to support and even rejoice in the destabilizing and terrifying actions being taken that will harm so many Americans -- and others around the world. Government programs, entire federal agencies and funding are being cut.  Thousands of federal workers are being fired on a moment's notice. The FBI and CIA and military being gutted;  completely unqualified and inexperienced people have been chosen and confirmed by the Republican controlled Senate to serve on the Cabinet and in charge of vital parts of our government (qualifications seem to be loyalty to the current president and having had a job on TV).  The U.S. now aligns with dictators around the globe, turning our back on historical European allies to court favor with Putin and Russia.  It's all madness.  And I am so afraid for my grandkids.  This could all end very, very badly.  

But I fight on as best I can and try not to completely give in to my anger about those people who don't like what is happening yet do not take any actions.  A phone call to a legislator takes literally one minute! And it is so important and it works.  Every activist organization emphasizes this.  Putting pressure on them is the tool we have.  USE IT!  That this administration eeked out a win that could have been avoided if those who didn't bother to vote had gone to the polls angers me too. And I believe my anger about this entire situation is righteous.  AND what's equally true is that I am heartbroken for our country and the people who's lives are being hurt and destroyed in so many ways.  The cruelty of people applauding others' misery is stunning to see.

But life on the micro-level continues...

I have a dear friend who suffered a seizure (no stroke detected) from a dangerous spike in blood pressure nearly two weeks ago and has been in the hospital since.  I've gone to see her nearly every day as she lies there, weak, non-communicative for the most part, exhausted, and confused.  We all are just an accident or illness away from this most tender vulnerability;  I'm learning lessons in dignity and compassion.  It will take a long time for her brain to heal from the trauma and for her body to become strong enough again for her to stand and walk.  I am heartened that she recognizes us and can seem to follow conversation, even if her own responses are often only one word.  This woman is brilliant, bright, funny, and beloved. We've been friends for decades and I have great memories of great adventures with her.  She and I and another friend took to calling ourselves the 'Shiny Sisters' and we hope she will shine again soon.  

Hub is away on his fourth snowboard trip of the season; one more to go.  Again, so much to say.  His many trips have been a point of contention between us for many reasons over the years.  Details are tiresome and private.  But this time...this time...something is different.  All that therapy (see prior post) has paid off and I have had a GREAT week home by myself.  We have not been in touch much, and that's good.  I needed to be in my own space, prioritizing myself, not feeling his absence so much as focusing on my presence.  My presence as an individual creating my own life.  It's long overdue.  I know it sounds like, "What?! Of course you have your own life!"  And I do.  I'm not dependent upon him nor do I pine away for him.  Like I said, it's complicated.  But right now I am so delighted to feel 95% terrific about what I'm creating for myself and that, my friends, is a relief I cannot even begin to explain.  You may be confused by this, but all I ask is that you be happy for me.  Believe me, I deserve it.  LOL

We bought a new car.  An electric KIA EV-6.  It's very futuristic and cool.  And I don't understand it at all.  It has so many tech-y bells and whistles that I wonder sometimes who is in charge -- me or the car?  LOL  I'm getting used to it and more comfortable with it.  But I have yet to watch the 40+ mini-lesson videos on the KIA app that explain all the groovy things it does.  Cars used to be stop/go/steer, right?  Hmmm...

So much seems just out of reach lately -- a little surrealistic; changing so quickly.  I don't do well with chaos so I have focused on my meditation practice and spend some parts of every day just getting quiet and grounded.  Politics, activism, illness, technology, emotional turmoil/healing...it's all a whirl.  No wonder I seek out PBS Masterpiece Theater programs and cozy mystery novels, yoga and meditation, and sometimes dark chocolate to calm me.  🙏🏽

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION: PART 1

I'm cleaning off my desk today and have a little stack of tourist stuff from our recent vacation to South Carolina.  I realize I never wrote about this trip, which surprises me.  It deserves to be documented for starting out so poorly but ending up not being a disaster after all.

Hub and I arranged to take Son One and his family on this trip with us.  We chose a resort on Hilton Head where we had stayed a few years ago and thought it would be perfect for a family vacation and only an hour away from Savannah GA where my sis-in-law, nephew, and niece and her family all live.  Since Hub and I lived off the shore of Charleston S.C., on the Isle of Palms for two years in the early 80s, going there every so often also holds a nostalgic vibe for us.  Two years is not long, but it was a transformative time in our younger lives and made an outsized impact on us.  Anyway, he and I left a few days early to spend time in Charleston before heading to Hilton Head.  

Hub got up not feeling great on travel day.  He is generally a happy flyer (unlike me) and we had sprung for the upgraded seats that came with drinks, which he finds to be a nice perk.  He was pretty quiet at the airport, complaining of stomach ache.  On the flight he sat upright, rigid, not eating OR drinking OR interacting in any way -- just trying to endure the 5-1/2 hour flight, eyes closed.  

Off the plane we waited and waited for our luggage, realizing at long last that one suitcase was not gonna show up on the conveyor belt.  After checking with the airline, it was confirmed that bag was still in Seattle.  Damn.  Hub was miserable by this time and just wanted to get to the hotel, but we had to fill out lost luggage paperwork and still pickup our rental car.  

Once finally at the hotel, our assigned room with a great view reeked so strongly of chemical cleaner that we couldn't imagine sleeping in it.  The Marriott prides itself on "new enhanced cleaning technologies" (whatever that means) but that was ridiculous!  We trooped back to the front desk to request a different room, which took awhile to arrange since they were nearly full with the convention of an NFL security organization, everyone wearing team logos. We finally got a new room, with a crappy view, and two Queens instead of a King, but we were able to breathe.  Hub went straight to bed in agony.  I took the other bed feeling he'd sleep better alone.  (Or I would....but I didn't.)

Hub being ill is such a rare event that I was concerned.  He was obviously in pain, unable to get comfortable.  He tossed and turned for hours until at 4 a.m. he said he felt he should go to the E.R.  This was a startling turn of events.  Hub suggesting an E.R. visit made me think he was at death's door. We got dressed and I drove him to the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC), where he had actually been on staff all those many years ago.  Deja Vu.  But this time he was the patient.  He suspected a bowel obstruction or pancreatitis.  I was too uninformed about the perils of those possible diagnoses to be as worried as I could have been...me with the diagnosed medical anxiety that turns me into a worst case scenario scaredy cat at the mere mention of a possible health issue.

No E.R. visit is fast or easy, so even though they were not busy, we were there for 5-1/2 hours.  Exams, tests, scans, waiting, waiting, waiting....  Finally we were told everything looked normal and nothing life-threatening was going on.  During the course of things, Hub had started to spontaneously feel a bit better; not great, but better, with less pain.  We don't know what caused his symptoms exactly.  Maybe something he ate, but it wasn't the classic puking/pooping food poisoning response.  It was just lots of pain and bloating, indicating blockage, but there was no blockage.  

He was discharged and we went back to the hotel to sleep most of the day, only venturing out to the deli at the Publix grocery store across the street to get him some nice bland chicken soup for supper.  On the way back we intercepted our lost suitcase being delivered to the hotel.  Our visit to Charleston was not as we'd planned but we were grateful he was not admitted with a serious illness.  Thirty-six hours into our trip things were finally looking up.

The next day we drove out to the Isle of Palms, past our old house, and took a walk on "our" beach, still so beautiful.  Then we headed to Hilton Head, 2-1/2 hours away, grateful we weren't still at MUSC fighting an infection, or worse.  We looked forward to welcoming our family to join us the next day with hope that a whole week together would be as much fun as it seemed it would be in our imaginations; one never knows.

At least, that's the view from here...©

CORONA MOAN

Seattle is not a ghost town as I saw reported recently.  But it is, well, quieter.  People are staying home out of an abundance of caution or because they have no choice.  So many business and social activities have been cancelled that there's nowhere to go.  Tech industry workers and others are being given the option (or order) to telecommute.

We seem to be Ground Zero in the U.S. for the Covid-19 corona virus.  In fact the very first person diagnosed in the U.S. was hospitalized about 3 miles from where I'm writing right now.

At first it seemed like a weird, scary, but still sort of "not my problem" story.  Mostly this was a China thing -- it started there and people who had it had been traveling there.  Some were stuck on a cruise ship, but those floating petri dishes often have outbreaks of horror.  I don't travel to Asia and I'm not a cruiser.  No problem.

But as viruses do, it spread.  Suddenly people were diagnosed who had NOT traveled nor been near others they knew had traveled.  It seemed to just be springing up in the general population with no way to determine why some people were catching this bad bug.  And those who were diagnosed were really sick.  And some died.  And there is no vaccine.  No cure.  No way of stopping it.

This morning I read in USA Today that there are 100,000 diagnosed cases worldwide; 233 in the United States.  There are 39 cases confirmed in Washington State -- 31 in King Co. (Seattle) and 8 in the county where I live.  Deaths worldwide stand at 3,400; 12 in the United States with 10 of those in Washington, due to an outbreak in a long-term health facility for older adults.  In the grand scheme these numbers are not huge and can be brushed aside -- unless you or a loved one falls into this group of unfortunate souls.  But the fear is that this could continue to spread and become much, much worse.  So we are all getting very, very nervous.

State health officials have advised staying out of large groups of people, so events and meetings are being cancelled left and right.  Schools are closing when anyone is diagnosed, or even in contact with another who has been diagnosed.  The University of Washington has suspended all in person classes until end of term on March 20.  The local medical clinics are greeting every single patient outside their doors with hand sanitizer and a list of screening questions before they can enter.  People are cancelling trips to avoid airline travel, hotels, theme parks, and tourist sites.

Store shelves are empty of hand sanitizer, bottled water, and toilet paper.  I get the sanitizer (people have resorted to making their own -- recipes online proliferate).  I don't understand the water (is our water supply at risk?) nor the TP (a historically recent convenience, but OK, now seen as a necessity.)  N-95 particulate masks are being hoarded, in the belief that these will protect the wearer from catching the virus.  They likely won't because most people don't wear them properly.  The result is that health care facilities, who really do need them, are in short supply, putting patients and providers at greater risk.

Everywhere you go people are talking about the virus and what to do.

The CDC and Health Departments are advising hand washing (for at least 20 seconds with lots of lather -- sing Happy Birthday to estimate 20 seconds), don't touch your own face (to keep the virus from invading through eyes, nose, or mouth), stay at least 6 feet away from people (no more hugging or handshaking), stay home if you are feeling ill.  Older adults (over 60) and those with underlying health issues are at greatest risk.

I questioned that "over 60" thing (I'm healthy!  So what if I'm 69?) until it was explained to me that just the fact of being older weakens our immune systems.  But don't panic.  (Sure.  Tell that to a person who has health anxiety, even with no pandemic in the headlines.)

Mostly I'm "keeping calm and carrying on" with lots of deep breathing and obsessive hand washing.  I rarely touch a public surface with my bare hands anyway. (Not germaphobia!  Common sense!)  And I don't like large crowds.  But avoiding all people while living a normal, non-quarantined life is a challenge.  I went to the Y this week and to my yoga class and had the family over for dinner.  Hub went to Costco and god knows what is in the air there besides some invisible urging to impulse buy.  Some are advising me to "self-quarantine" by avoiding groups over 10 people in number, which has been recommended by the experts.  I don't know...I'll think about it.

What I do know is this is contributing to an ongoing sense of unease over so many things --

--the ongoing political shit-show that is the United States right now (won't even go into the many ways in which our current government is completely unable to effectively communicate about or respond to this virus crisis);

--the fact that the most diverse field of Democratic presidential candidates in history has come down to two pushing-80 white men, leaving me to mourn again the strongest, most capable candidate (a woman) dropped out yesterday. (Thank you Elizabeth Warren...next time!);

--the planet seems to be melting, drowning and suffocating us;

and on the personal front:
--confronting that I am aged into a high risk group for no reason other than years lived;

--Hub is suffering more and more from a shoulder issue that puts another major joint replacement surgery sooner rather than later on the horizon (just when his knee has healed from last year's surgery!),

--and I'm still not eating sugar which would, if I was, make all of this so much easier and better for as along as my hot fudge sundae lasted.

So, what to do?  Well, my mantra is: breathe, breathe, breathe, persist.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

WRITER'S BLOCK - PART 2 - BODY & SOUL

Hub is a saint.  I'm sure there are times he wants to throttle me.  I am just the type of patient he didn't want to see in his exam room.  Lots of vague complaints, skeptical of medical-pharmaceutical complex, non-compliant about taking medications, a little lazy about sweets consumption and aerobic exercise, but totally reliant upon, and demanding of, the health care system to keep me healthy and vitally alive until 2057.  (I have decided to live to 106 with fully functioning mind and body until some night that year when I fall asleep and forget to wake up.  This will not happen during Seahawks season.)

I have not been writing so frequently lately and we've already covered my preoccupation with politics as one distraction.  Let's move on to hypochondria.  NO!  I am NOT a hypochondriac!  Every moment of ache and pain, queasy, "weird" sensation, headache, muscle ache, joint ache, heart palpitation, ear ringing, itchy patch, and blurred vision is REAL and is likely a precursor to something truly awful, and which will cause me tremendous suffering until that blessed moment of release into the endless purgatory of trying to pass a math test to get into Heaven.  (I know there must be a test.  I hope its spelling; pretty good at spelling.  But probably it's math.)

The thing is, there is nothing much wrong with me.  Physically I'm in good shape.  No chronic anythings.  Slightly elevated blood pressure; slightly high cholesterol.  I take low doses of drugs for those.  That's it.  But my overactive imagination that conjures up a litany of "what ifs" has been diagnosed and is pretty chronic -- "generalized anxiety disorder"with the subset "health anxiety" being the most predominant since some unexplained fainting episodes a few years ago, the memories of which still haunt me.

So, I do spend a lot of time fussing about this or that "symptom" and imagining the worst and bugging Hub to explain what it could be and what I should do. He used to take all this rather seriously and would conscienciously try to help.  Now he tells me to call my primary care provider.  He does triage me though, so my poor doc isn't inundated with Nervous-Nelly calls.  Hub listens to me while he's reading the paper and I'm sure he's concerned enough to rule out everything but those symptoms which might be truly alarming, but he also knows that most of what I complain about is normal body stuff that everyone has, they just don't carry on about it.  In fact I know people with real, potentially life-threatening conditions who seem to go about their lives with nary a care for the Grim Reaper.  I am amazed.  My anxiety keeps me stuck on the sofa, scrolling through Mayo Clinic and WebMD sites when I'm at my most distraught.  I am definitely NOT booking a flight to Madrid.  Lately I've been focusing on some out-of-the-blue joint and muscle pain and morning headaches.  Also memory loss.  Is constantly forgetting names (or getting them mixed up) normal?  How about sort of forgetting where I'm headed when I get to the bottom of the hill on my street and take the automatic right when I should have turned left?

And... what happens when we die anyway?  I have a vague notion of my spirit returning to the Source, or whatever, and I know a couple of people who are Mediums who report that they have contact with those who have taken a step into the Parallel Universe on 'the other side'.  (I should ask for the answers to the math test.)  I dunno.  But what I do know is that in spite of all my neuroses, I love my life.  I DO NOT WANT TO DIE!  I have written about dealing with depression and yes, I've had moments of Demon Depression trying to talk me into ending myself, but I always win that argument because I've learned that Demon is a big fat liar and I'm also so curious about the future.  I want to see what happens next, even when I'm at my very emotionally distraught worst.  What new tech innovations will there be?  Will there be Game of Thrones spin-offs?  Super Bowl repeats?  Impeachments?!?  I want to see my sons as old men, my grandchildren grow up and have children.  I want to get another cat someday and outlive it.  (I recently read an article by a woman who measures her life in terms of how many dogs she will be able to have before she dies.  She now figures her age at "half a dog"; that her dog's lifespan is likely double hers.  Now that's putting a point on it, huh?)

At my age, in spite of our absolute vow that it not be so when we were all younger, many conversations with friends revolve around physical ailments, terrible diagnoses, and fears of mental and physical decline.  It's impossible to deny, avoid, and put off.  These things are real and for my age cohort are often the answer to "what's new?" because dealing with all of it can be all-consuming. It seems everyone has had a joint replacement, a case of shingles, or an errant organ.  Everyone's waiting for test results.  A friend and I went visiting the other day to the homes of two other friends who we don't see frequently.  They are lovely, smart, funny, creative women.  We had a blast catching up.  Yet, in the course of that day they both independently brought up the idea of suicide as a totally valid and hoped for response to dementia or debilitating illness.  This is what we talk about over coffee and cake these days.  It's not depressing really, just weird to find myself at this stage where these conversations are not ironic, but deadly serious.

So, I think about my eventual decline and demise too.   I think about it too much.  I get nervous, frightened, terrified.  I spend a lot of time trying to stay strong, balanced, and flexible with yoga classes, strength training, treadmill walking.  I try to challenge my brain to grow new neurons by reading and doing "brain games".   I have enormous gratitude for the fact that  (I'm knocking on every piece of wood I can find right now) I'm, so far, healthy and able.  My anxieties are controlled by yoga, meditation, and mindfulness practices (also time-consuming), and by shifting my thinking from negative to positive, when I remember to do it.  So, instead of assuming the worst, I'm working on assuming the best.  I will live with fully functioning faculties to the age of 106, then perhaps die the night after Hub and I cheer on the Seahawks as they bring home the Lombardi Trophy in Super Bowl XCI.  Boom!

At least, that's the view from here...©

PHOTO CREDIT:  Copyright: <a href='https://www.123rf.com/profile_aihumnoi'>aihumnoi / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

NEWS HEADACHE? TAKE A PILL.

I'm a little addicted to watching a few of the "talking heads" explain the latest political intrigues to me.  Around dinner time I switch on the TV and catch the nightly Rachel Maddow Show, sometimes with a bit of the shows on either side of hers.  I realize these are considered "left-leaning" and that's OK with me because they also include guests who are Conservatives, or experts in their fields, or other journalists.  I think Rachel's logic and mine are akin and I admire her curiosity and determination to "get to the bottom of this" -- whatever the topic.  She's been doing some very insightful commentary and airing some very intriguing investigative journalism lately.

Still, politics these days gives me a headache.  And a heartache.  I can easily tip into a state of overwhelm, dismay, disgust, and dis-ease about what is happening to our great Republic.  Nothing looks promising right now and I still don't understand those who support this Administration nor why.  It makes no sense to me at all.  And I've been trying; I really have.  Just don't get it.  Wired differently, I guess.

So, when I'm watching sometimes I start to feel a little woozy; a little itchy; a little nauseated.  Then  I realized it might not be the content of the program, but the ads.

In just a little over an hour, I saw a plethora of commercials for treatment of these ailments:  nerve

pain, diarrhea, psoriasis, Alzheimers, Hep C, constipation, dark spots, cold sores, dry skin, nasal congestion, arthritis, heartburn, chemotherapy side-effects, erectile dysfunction, incontinence, diabetes, irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, over-active bladder, insomnia.  I listened to the symptoms which defined each of these, how they impacted the lives of those suffering these ailments, and then listened to how a pill or medication or treatment would relieve this suffering, then to the side-effects of the medication which were far worse than the original ailment.  A steady diet of these ads and soon my health anxiety is through the roof (but not to worry, there is a pill for that.)

I've taken to recording the shows, so I can zip through the commercials because I will not be convinced to turn off the TV.  I am "old-school" that way (and judging by the ads, anyone watching is considered in the "older" demographic anyway, so I'm right where I should be) and I like switching on the "nightly news".

Plus, anyone who says (among other despicable things) that the media/press is the 'enemy of the people' is permanently on my shit list.  I have a lifelong, unyielding trust in the "mainstream media" -- those news outlets that I believe are dedicated to finding the truth, to reporting with integrity, to informing the public in a nonpartisan, non-biased manner.  I trust long-standing publications like the New York Times, the Washington Post, the network newscasters, the unbiased cable outlets, NPR, PBS, BBC, political magazines of long-standing, and even some newer online journals and outlets. It's easy to tell which are biased and which way.  I read the Leftist ones with as much skepticism as those on the Right.  What's suddenly wrong with being "mainstream"?  What's wrong with looking at an issue and seeing both sides and coming to an informed conclusion based on facts?  When did that become something to deride?

Maybe it's a medication side-effect.

At least, that's the view from here...©

THIRTY SECONDS OF FAME

So, I've been whining all week about having a cold.  Men are stereotypically terrible at being sick, but in my house I'm the whiner, seeking non-stop soup and sympathy.  Hub has been sick with a cold too. We apparently caught the bug from the same carrier.  We suspect our little typhoid vector of a granddaughter who is with us 2 days/week.  Her other 3 days of care are at a childcare/preschool where all they do is pass snotty noses and hacking coughs back and forth with their slimy, germ-laden little fingers.  But Hub hasn't complained much at all.  Then again, he is a slave to modern medicine and has never met a pill he didn't think would make it all better.  I lean toward tea and honey and whatever home remedy and crazy alt-med "miracle" cure my friends recommend.  He feels better and I don't, but I see no reason to cave to Big Pharma, regardless.

So last night we had tickets to our local professional theater company's opening show of the new season -- Pump Boys and Dinettes.  It's a fun and sort of goofy musical; lighthearted and full of multi-talented musicians and vocalists.  I questioned whether I should arise from under my super soft fleece blanket and attend, given my weakened condition, but in the end I threw on some "going outside" clothes and a little makeup and went.  I figured all I had to do was sit there and try not to cough.

Well, lo and behold!  A part of the show included a "door prize" giveaway to an audience member.  They pulled a ticket stub from a big bowl, announcing section, row, and seat number.  Yep.  Me.  In a blur I made my way to the stairs leading up to the stage, the actors all beckoning me to come up and claim my prize.  Fleetingly I cursed myself for not looking in the mirror before I left home, but I gamely played along with the thing.  Thirty seconds of fame on stage with the cast, while they snapped a polaroid picture, then back in my seat.

You know that admonition to always wear good underwear in case you have an accident and have to go to the ER?  Same applies to when you go to the theater.  Not the underwear part, but maybe the hair and make-up part.  Oh well.  I'm sure I dazzled them with raw talent.  The audience did applaud.  I'm Broadway bound, as soon as I get over this cough.

At least, that's the view from here...©

GOLF PORN

I've been sick.  And I never get sick.  Last year, nary a sniffle.  But the bug got me a week ago.  Just a common cold, thankfully, and not the dreaded flu virus.  Still...the stuffy nose, sore throat, watery eyes, hacking cough all make for a less than stellar experience lately, and keep me mostly isolated in my attempts not to infect others, as well as often giving in to the overriding desire snuggle on the sofa in "jammie clothes" and a blankie.

I am getting a bit antsy, however.  Of note, I'm tiring of my usual reading materials and picked up a freshly delivered copy of Hub's Golf Digest magazine.  I don't golf.  Truth be told, it's sort of a silly sport, in my opinion.  (Oh...I hear you dear golfing friends, I hear you, and I love you anyway....).  It is very popular, however.  I get that.

Hub is an occasional golfer.  Being just a natural jock kind of guy though, he is passable to really good at most sports -- even those he rarely plays.  He used to golf about once a year, but has increased that frequency over the past couple of summers since "couple friends" of ours took it up.  I know it would be nice if I'd join in and make it foursome, but my lack of interest and bad attitude would outweigh any benefit -- as is so often the case.

Anyway, our friends sent Hub a gift subscription to Golf Digest and I admit I was surprised when he decided to re-up the subscription.  I note he shows moderate interest when it arrives, then it goes on the "to be read" pile, never to be opened again.  I understand this -- I have such a pile going most of the time as well.

Since the guy on the February issue cover (Billy Horschel -- never heard of him) had a passing resemblance to Adam Levine (Maroon 5), I was drawn to opening the magazine.  I spent some time thumbing through it and got the gist of the thing -- it's about how to be a better golfer, what equipment will help, where to play, and what to wear while playing....these socks! (Photo by Victor Prado)

As I was about to put the magazine down, something dawned on me.  Golf is for guys.  Golf is for "guy" guys.  Golf is for rich "guy" guys.  Here's how I know:

Ad content:  Golf club ads are sleek, modern, and mostly in stark sliver/black photography with primary color highlights -- red or blue preferred.  Same with the 2-page Rolex watch spread.  Same with the cars  -- Lincoln Navigator (starting at $61,480), Lexus ("prepare for the white knuckle treatment"), Porsche ("powerful drives are an obsession we share" -- I get it!).

Copy content:  Lots of guys giving golfing advice to other guys, all of an indeterminate age (35-50?), in great shape and wearing some really sporty and colorful slacks and collared, knit shirts that remind me of my dad. (The shirt that is, without the paunch.)

Feature story:  Osama bin Laden Special Forces assassin, turned golfer, talking in great and graphic detail about the day he shot our arch-enemy in the face.  Booyah!  Also, America's Top 100 Golf Courses.  #1 Augusta National.  Famous for the annual Masters Tournament.  Also famous for not allowing any African American members until 1990; mandating all caddies must be black (until 1959) and not admitting women until...wait for it...2012! (Condoleeza Rice was one of two women who were the first to be admitted.  Augusta defends their policies by citing "we are a private club".  Oh, OK then. )

This woman and people of color thing sort of had me going at this point, so I went back through and did a count.  With the exception of Tiger Woods (one photo, one ad) and another man who's ethnicity was indeterminate, all the guys were white.  There is a photo spread on page 98 of 108 total pages of a woman who's face we never see beneath her bent head and white cap, swinging a club.  There is a teeny, tiny photo of a woman who works in the 'golf fashion industry' standing for a photo with the ubiquitous Donald Trump. The only other photo of a woman in the whole magazine is a 2-page ad for Viagra, where that attractive brunette in all the commercials is seductively sprawled in a half-recline on soft bed, offering her sage and oh so understanding advice about "getting and keeping an erection".

I have some advice for the Viagra-inclined golfer too.  Just read this copy from David Leadbetter's article on putting and you may not need that little blue pill:

You'll have much more power for this shot if you hold the club with your normal full-swing grip.  You'll naturally put some wrist action into the strike, which will help you get the ball to the hole.  You're going to need more room for your hands and arms to make a bigger stroke than normal, so stand more upright.  If you're hunched over, you'll struggle to swing the putter freely.  The common mistake when putting from off the green is to try to hit the ball harder with a short, jabby stroke.  Swing back longer, and let the flow and acceleration of the putterhead feel natural.  Don't force it.  Let your hips and knees move a little toward the target, especially your back knee kicking in.  This helps generate more energy so you don't have to try to muscle the ball with your hands.

FORE!

At least that's the view from here....©