Real life vs. fantasy land

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

The other paper in town ran an ad Monday, which outlined a week in the life of its typical reader.

'Monday Stopped at Strata in Wellesley for an umbrella. Also bought an Appalachian bird house and a sand picture (today's answer to the lava lamp) . . . Then on to supper with Marie at Caffe Lampara.

'Tuesday Lecture in Cambridge. Dinner before with four friends at Cafe of India.

'Wednesday Yummy Indian recipes in Globe food pages. Over to Shalimar India Food & Spices for pappadums, chutney and assorted curry spices.

'Thursday Museum of Fine Arts . . .

'Friday Back to Strata again . . .

'Saturday Need some new nightgowns. Lingere Factory has three I want.

'Sunday Gorged on Dim Sum at Imperial Seafood House.' This can't be for real, can it? Is this truly how the other half lives?

A typical week in my life goes more like this

Monday Wake up. Look around. Think about all the undone stuff left over from last week and the week before. Make a mental list. Vow to be better organized this week. Sing in the shower. Curse after the shower because someone stole the bath towel. Go down stairs. Dog vomit all over floor. Clean it up. Go to make coffee. Out of coffee. Head to Dunkin Donuts. Spill a Big One on just-cleaned pants. Come home. More dog vomit on floor. Curse dog. Put dog outside. Try to concentrate on Important Things. The phone rings. Can you? Will you? Now. Immediately. The bank calls. Did you forget? The computer is blank. The day goes by. The computer remains blank. The list of things-to-do doesn't get looked at. The laundry doesn't get done. Nothing gets finished.

Stick whatever's in the refrigerator between two pieces of bread and call it dinner. Grocery shop after dinner. Buy coffee for the morning - hazelnut, whole beans. Come home. Grinder doesn't -- work.

Tuesday Similar to Monday with added attraction, a lecture in Jamaica Plain from a state trooper who insists motorist with whom I am driving ran a red light. Three passengers and said driver insist he did not. Lecture is followed by a written report. Wednesday, Thursday, etc. More of the above. Plus, someone has a doctor's appointment and further tests are recommended, which gets you crazy for a little while. Plus, someone is in a small car accident. Plus, there is a mini-family crisis. Plus, the bedroom roof starts to leak again.

And on it goes.

This is real life Chaos, not order. Confusion, not calm. The grass needs to be cut. The curtains need to be washed. Carpenter ants are eating away at your house. Your best friend lands on your doorstep, suitcase in hand and in tears. The video store phones Did you forget? You've had two movies out for two weeks.

Your kids need you to be in two different places at the same time. Your father needs you to be with him, too. Someone you just saw two weeks ago suddenly dies. Someone gets mad at something you said. Someone gets mad at something you didn't say. The kids get stung by bees. The vacuum cleaner breaks. You forgot your niece's birthday. The dog throws up again. You run out of paper towels - and patience. And walk outside to scream. 'Stopped at Strata in Wellesley for an umbrella. Also bought an Appalachian bird house and a sand picture . . . then on to supper with Marie.'

I suppose this is the ideal life. The good, privileged life. But is it real life? I don't think so. And I have to wonder about a newspaper that believes it is.