A modern-day take on the day the music died

A modern-day take on the day the music died

I was at the gym, hard to believe, because since COVID I’ve counted bending over to tie my sneakers a workout. But there I was, turning over a new leaf, headphones on, stretching to the music of the 1930s (I love old music), wondering what makes the wah-wah sound in these recordings. (I took a break and googled and learned that a trumpet or trombone makes the sound).

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Two little girls laughing until someone told us to stop

Two little girls laughing until someone told us to stop

When we were kids, I was jealous because Janet Butler’s birthday came three weeks before mine. It was a big deal back then, growing older, growing closer to what we called “grown up.”

Janet, who was born on Jan. 29, lorded it over me when she was 9 and I was still 8, when she was 10 and I was still 9, when she turned 13 and I was still 12. “Baby,” she’d say, but not in a mean way. She was never mean. She was a tease. She was funny. She’d sing-song the word “baby” and then laugh.

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Counting calories and sins

I am sitting at my computer eating reduced-fat potato chips, using them to scoop up tuna fish once packed in water but now swimming in low-fat mayonnaise. And I am feeling smug and Spartan because there is no bread in my lunch, no yummy roll grilled in butter, no slice of white American cheese melted on top. There's 1 percent milk in my coffee and just a single cookie on my plate: my neighbor Katherine's homemade - without butter - almond biscotti. Ah, healthful eating.

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WHERE IS THE LOVE IN THE AIRWAVES?

WHERE IS THE LOVE IN THE AIRWAVES?

I wonder if the old songs were true. If "It Had to Be You" and "You'd Be So Nice to Come Home to" came straight from the heart. Or were they just sentimentally tweaked to sell? Was love 60 and 70 years ago as tender and innocent as the music made it seem? Or were all the songs “I'm wild again, beguiled again, a simpering, whimpering child again” a lie, truth sacrificed for meter and rhyme?

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Gym rats are born, not made

Gym rats are born, not made

The new gym rat in the family has been nagging me. He starts even before I open my eyes. "Power Pump is today. You really should go," he says at 5 a.m. The clock radio has just clicked on. The announcer's voice is a whisper because the radio takes time to warm up. Mr. Stretch and Bend doesn't have this problem. I said I'd go to the gym in the spring. Spring has arrived. He has deemed it his duty to get me there…

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`Family values' vs. Blue Laws

`Family values' vs. Blue Laws

So, how long have we been listening to our politicians pontificate about "family values?"

The phrase has been on everyone's lips for the past year, but the concept has existed forever. The family - it's sacrosanct. It's the bedrock of the nation. If we could get the family back together, make it strong, then the country would follow.

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Everyone loses the `game' of sex

"History is not a random sequence of unrelated events. Everything affects and is affected by everything else. This is never clear in the present. Only time can sort out events. It is then in perspective that patterns emerge." - William Manchester

Patterns:

A man, about 55, walks into a restaurant. He's wearing a topcoat, a suit and a tie; he goes to the bar and orders a beer.

He's on his way out of the restaurant when he stops and asks the hostess, a young woman of 21, if Leeanne is working today. The hostess says she's new and doesn't know, but she'll check. She walks over to her manager, then returns and tells the man that Leeanne has moved to Florida.

"I wish I were in Florida, too," the hostess adds.

The man looks her up and down - she's wearing black heels, black nylons, a black skirt, white blouse and black blazer.

Then he says, "A little number like you could do well with the older guys in Florida. All you'd have to do is take your panties off."

The hostess is stunned. But all she can do is glare.

"Hey! Don't get offended," he says. "I'm just tellin' ya the truth."

He looks her up and down again, then walks out.

The hostess is my daughter. She tells me this story long-distance from school.

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`Smart' car needed _ now (AND NOW WE HAVE WAZE!!)

Rosemary calls for directions Sunday afternoon as I'm sitting at the kitchen table clipping a story about "smart cars."

Smart cars - as opposed to dumb cars - are automobiles which have built-in computerized road maps on their dashboards. Little sensors in the car's wheels actually measure distance traveled and a built-in magnetic compass instructs the driver of a car, in an R2D2 voice, how to get from point A to point B.

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TV violence becomes the norm in '92

It has been a long time since I awakened to the sounds of cartoons in my house. Years ago there was always a child up before me, roosting in front of the TV when I came downstairs, watching the "Smurfs" or "Gummy Bears" or some other early morning show.

These days my children sleep as late as they can and the TV remains silent. I haven't seen a cartoon in years.

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When THE catalog arrives

The new Victoria's Secret catalog arrived sometime last week, but I haven't been able to get my hands on it until now. The men in my house love the thing. They must have a sixth sense, a kind of male E.S.P. Either that or they secretly phone ahead to find out when the catalog is being shipped, because they always know the moment it's in the mailbox, and grab it the second it arrives.

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Bald men should brush aside hair myths

Bald men should brush aside hair myths

As far as this baldness thing is concerned: Hey, you guys, you're being duped. Whoever told you that bald is unattractive? Whoever said that women lust less after men with shiny tops than those with bushy manes? Why are you so attached to dead cells that grow from holes in your head, that hang limp and lifeless and contribute nothing to your well-being anyway?

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