Taste test – the last entree

Disclosure: I am participating in a Vibrant Influencer Network Healthy Choice campaign. I have been provided with free products and remuneration in exchange for my honest opinions about the products. All opinions are my own and were not influenced, nor reviewed, by Healthy Choice prior to posting.

baked ziti

Well, I have to say that I have truly enjoyed the opportunity to taste Healthy Choice entrees and their Greek Frozen Yogurt over the past few weeks. What a privilege to be asked for my honest opinions and thoughts to share with my readers.

The last product in the food-tasting series I was asked to try were Healthy Choice Baked Taste entrees. Because I love all things Italian – especially foods – I chose to taste the Baked Ziti. Once again, following the directions, I popped the entree into the microwave for a quick lunch. Our kitchen smelled delicious as the marinara and cheeses melded together. Grabbing my fork, I was excited to dig in and taste the product, and again, I was pleasantly surprised.

ziti in microwave

The pasta was tender but not mushy, and the marinara sauce was very good. And – bonus – the pasta wasn’t swimming in a sea of sauce! There was a perfect balance between the two! Additionally, the entree contained several cheeses, and as you can see by the photo, the cheeses were visible! No hunting around to see that, in fact, cheese was included, as the box claimed! And it was a nice a blend of Italian cheeses: Parmesan, Romano, Asiago and mozzarella.

cooked baked ziti

Because I am a carnivore, I needed a little more sustenance than this entree provided. So, after I tried the product un-doctored, I added some of my own Italian-style baked chicken that was left over from our previous night’s dinner. The entree was a nice compliment to my diced chicken, and indeed made a fine, quick lunch, which I enjoyed along with a small, fresh tossed salad. There are many baked entree choices to choose from, and clicking on the Baked Taste link will give you all the options, plus information about each entree.

Though the Baked Ziti entree was good, and I would purchase it again if I was dining solo, I would use tend to use this as a side dish instead of a main entree, because, well, I have a heartier appetite than most ladies I know! And, going back to my earlier comments in my previous reviews, I would love it if these products contained more organically grown ingredients. But, it is refreshing that there are no added preservatives or food colorings.

Of all the Healthy Choice items I was honored to try, my favorite, by far, are the Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers. For the freshness, presentation and overall taste, I believe they may have revolutionized frozen meals.

It is my hope that this series has been a benefit to my readers. Let me know if you have tried any of these products, and if so, what you have thought of them.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

Opening my mouth by closing my wallet

wallet

“Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit.” – Doris Day

You know, I didn’t want to be another commentator on the recent MTV Video Music Awards show, and yet, here I am, typing away from my little corner of the world. Since I can’t watch the news without being constantly reminded of this ridiculous dance routine, I just can’t stop thinking about how disgusted I am with the vile performance by Miley Cyrus, Robin Thicke, and all those involved in such a complete display of vulgarity.

Maybe I have just reached the end of my proverbial rope with the shock-pop culture and the double standard of it all. Everyone is quick to jump on the bandwagon and wag their fingers at Ms. Cyrus, but that is really unfair.

Most likely, some smooth-talking producer was stroking this young lady’s ego, promising her the moon and the stars, fame and fortune. And let’s not forget, there was a married man on stage, singing as she was twerking, back-up singers and dancers who were just as vulgar, and many folks behind the scenes. Sure, she could have said “no” to the pornographic performance. But she didn’t, as she, like many other young ladies, can’t seem to shake the “Miss Goody Two-Shoes” image fast enough.

But why? When did being a good person with decent morals and values become such a bad thing?

We can sit and blame her parents, the media, the music industry, the choreographers and a litany of others, but really, if we are going to be honest, we need to take a harsh look at the image in the mirror and put the blame where it belongs – on ourselves.

For decades, we have watched the erosion, as television, Madison Avenue and the music industry have added an edge to sitcoms, movies, videos, reality shows, commercials and the Super Bowl half-time shows. On the slippery slope of being edgy, each performer or commercial has to one-up themselves for the next round. And yet, we keep watching these shows and videos, and purchasing their music and products.

Look at the Herbal Essence commercials, where the gorgeous model with a magnificent mane of hair is having an orgasmic experience in the bathroom of an airplane (I mean, really? You can hardly turn to flush in one of those insanely small flying-port-a-potties, let alone wash one’s hair. But I digress…) And let’s not forget the big-chested, bronzed-up model seductively eating burgers and fish sandwiches during last year’s Super Bowl commercials, or the insanely provocative commercials promoting a Website hosting service…the list is endless.

Seriously, when one needs to sell talent, a product or performance with a large set of breasts, six-pack abs, heavy breathing or twerking, there must be no other value in said object.

Reality shows? Don’t get me started! We watch as babies are paraded around in beauty pageants and dance shows. What message are we sending little girls? And let’s face it, those are little girls that are being made-up in make-up. They are being sexualized for what? Potential scholarship money? A shot at stardom? A mansion?

If these little ones do get a shot at stardom, then what? We watch the train wreck that becomes their lives after their 15 minutes of fame ceases, or their first pimple appears? Then we read about their drug addictions? Or tabloid stories about who they are sleeping with? Or their stints in rehab, so they can be demoralized and humiliated by late-night comedians?

And yet, we continue to watch these shows, buy these products, and go along our merry way, until one of these child stars grows up, gets outrageous – either onstage or off – and we get all holier-than-thou and judgmental. We’ll drag his or her name through the mud for a few days, until the next child-star-gone-wild makes headlines.

And then, we will go through this insane charade again.

If, in fact, we are tired of this, and we are concerned about these kids as well as our own kids who are watching this disturbing trend in our society, then we, as parents, need to band together and make it stop.

How? Let’s hit the television and video producers and marketers in their wallets by keeping our pocketbooks closed. If they really think we are going to continue to allow them to line their pockets at the expense of our children and our society as a whole, they are wrong. If we demand something better, then they will have to deliver something better. Until then, they will continue to pump vulgarity into every aspect of our lives, because by our actions, and by our not taking a stand for decency, we allow them to deliver filth.

What do you think? Let me know in the comment section.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

 

 

 

Junk? Trash? No! Hands off my stash!

“To invent, you need you need a good imagination and a pile of junk.” Thomas Edison

rose in bud vase

The organizational bug hit me the other day, so I began fall cleaning a little early. Starting a little at a time, I tackled my dresser drawers, the night stand and my food pantry. Amazing how much junk one can collect. Some of it is so easy to pitch! Other items, not so much.

I came across a pile of greeting cards, which gave me a well-deserved cleaning break. Sorting through the anniversary, birthday, thank-you and Mother’s Day cards, I found some real gems, especially the handmade cards from my brood.

card

One of the best things I found was a construction paper card filled with coupons. It was made by my now 18-year-old son. Lucky for me, he was unaware of expiration dates at the ripe old age of ten, so I promptly presented him with the, “1 Free Room Clean Up (without groans)” coupon. I held onto the original, so I can present it again later this week when he needs to borrow the car…

Moving into the kitchen, I pitched boxes of cereal that had less than one serving remaining, stale crackers and cookies, and a bottle of dry creamer that I forgot was even there. I don’t even know why it was in the cupboard. Dumping all the contents into the trash, and crushing boxes for the recycle bin, I held onto the empty plastic creamer bottle.

“Surely there will be a good use for this,” I thought, as I washed the container.

A chill ran down my spine. I was turning into my grandmother!

My maternal grandmother, a product of the Great Depression, kept everything. I mean, everything! Newspapers, cat food cans, scraps of foil, boxes of all shapes and sizes, plastic bags – the list is endless.

She was a firm believer in reuse, reduce, recycle long before it was a popular catch phrase. And as much as I used to roll my eyes when she insisted I pull something out of the trash, I now get it.

Believe me when I say I have my own collection. Sparkling water bottles make great containers for my chocolate and lemon cellos. I wash and re-use spice containers for the herbs I am growing in my garden, which are now drying in bunches in my kitchen. Since I make my own deodorant and tooth paste, I use containers from all kinds of leftovers, looking for that perfect package. My homemade laundry detergent is in an old sherbet container. Gallon-size plastic tea jugs are lined up, waiting for me when I start making the liquid detergent again. Old Ball and Mason jars are shoved in a cabinet for when I figure out how to can tomatoes, which better be soon as I have at least 100 Romas ready to turn red. I have used pasta jars for displaying wildflowers and dandelion bunches. And oh, to prove I am not completely crazy, the photo at the top of this post shows that small sparkling water bottles make great bud vases!

containers

Good heavens – I am addicted to glass jars and plastic containers!

But I have it under control – believe me, I do! Once a year a take an inventory, and what I can’t use, I throw into the recycle bin. Or I figure a way to use the container in order to justify keeping it on hand.

chives

Yes, there is a method to my madness! That little, itty-bitty pimento container? My dried chives will be a perfect match! The dried mint will look beautiful in my antique spice jars. The sage, (which tasted awesome and smelled divine while roasting in last Thanksgiving’s turkey) will fit perfectly in the gelato container. The cellos – I can now double the recipe for these delicious drinks.

But darn it, I have yet to find something to fill that creamer container.

Oh, Grandma, I miss you! You would be so proud of me, recycling and learning to garden. I wish I had watched you, as you lined up jar after jar of fresh, delicious veggies from your garden and delectable fruit from your trees, carefully canning and preserving each item. I am really sorry that I rolled my eyes; you were ahead of your time in so many ways!

Plus, dang it, I know darn well you’d figure out something I could do with that Cremora bottle…

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

Do you have a hard time parting with items that could one day be useful? Share in the comments below.

 

 

Supporting those who support those who serve

mug shot

“No one really wants to admit they are lonely, and it is never really addressed very much between friends and family. But I have felt lonely many times in my life.” – Bill Murray

Sitting in church on Sunday, our pastor’s sermon theme reflected on friendship. Though he interjected some humor with thought-provoking questions, his message really hit home. I am sure many of us squirmed, knowing full well that we all can, should and could be better friends.

He touched on something that really resonated with me, and that was loneliness, and what it really felt like. If you have ever experienced loneliness, and I am talking gut-wrenching, deep-in-the-pit loneliness, you could relate. When you are hurting, you don’t want to be forgotten.

Most of us think of loneliness when we hear of someone passing away. Loneliness is part of the grief experience.  But it isn’t always death that makes one feel alone. Any traumatic experience – like a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, a job loss, addiction, losing a home – can lead to feelings of loss and grief.

Because I am a military spouse and mom, I know how very lonely it can be when your loved one is not home. Basic training, TDYs, far-off duty stations and deployments  can cause grief: separation anxiety, lack of communication, missing your loved one. You grieve for the life you had before they left. You grieve for normalcy. At times, people avoid service members’ families for fear of making them – or seeing them – cry. Similar to how people react to a death.

And honestly, that is isn’t too far off the mark as to how we respond, in general, when others journey through difficult times. We don’t know what to say or do, often afraid we will make things worse.

Back in the late 1960s, Elizabeth Kubler Ross introduced a hypothesis for the five stages of grief. Some pooh-poohed her idea, and others embraced it. When my dad died, I can say I went through the stages, though not in any particular order. I stumbled upon some notes regarding those stages recently, and it was like I had an “ah-ha” moment. The stages of grief are similar to the feelings many military families go through when those deployment warning orders start filtering down the chain of command:

  • Denial (Oh, this won’t happen. He is needed at his base more than over there.)
  • Anger (Mad at the command, mad at the violent world we live in, mad at the dog, mad the account won’t balance. Mad! Mad! Mad!)
  • Bargaining (God, if you keep my service member home, I will ___________ [fill in the blank].)
  • Depression (Some days, you just want to pull the covers over your head and sleep until your loved one returns.)
  • Acceptance (This really is happening, and with God’s help, I will survive it.)

I’ve been asked before how one can really help military families – you know, “to support those who support those who serve.” As a well-season military spouse and mom, I have some suggestions listed below for those who have a friend, neighbor, co-worker, church member or relative facing or living through a deployment. But really, these can be used for anyone in need:

  • Be there. When my husband left for a deployment, my sister-in-law showed up at our house within minutes of his departure. Kids, coffee, and tears. I don’t even know if I talked. But she held my hand while I cried.
  • Bring a meal. My mother is the best. She either a brought a complete meal or invited us over. What a relief to not have to worry about feeding the kids. What a relief to not have to eat alone if the kids are not home.
  • Texts are great, but there is nothing better than hearing a voice at the other end of the line.
  • Invite the spouse, parent or family for coffee, ice cream, or just for a visit. Evenings, weekends and holidays are the worst times for feeling lonely, as that’s when most families gather and interact.
  • Drop off or mail a care package to the family. Maybe a box with some movies, popcorn and candy; a cookie bouquet half-way through the deployment; a flower arrangement on an anniversary or birthday; a balloon bouquet on a child’s birthday; fresh-baked cookies…let your imagination run wild!
  • Offer to help – from childcare to errand running to household/yard chores. A military spouse is pulling double duty.
  • Don’t say,”If you need me call.” Just call – they do need you.
  • Don’t be afraid. You will see tears. I guarantee it. Consider it an honor that your friend can comfortably cry in front of you.

Certainly, we have all the technology we can handle to stay in touch, but as connected as we are, there is a huge disconnect in interpersonal relationships and human touch. We rely so heavily on texts, posts and tweets, that we feel we have done our duty to connect. And while electronics are good to get the dialogue going, I think we’re really missing out if we don’t get out of our comfort zone and help wipe some tears, hand someone a box of tissues, give them a big a hug or sit and hold their hand. Something as simple as sharing a big slice of chocolate cake, or a bowl of body-and-soul-warming soup can do wonders for someone who’s lonely and scared. They will know they aren’t alone.

From someone who supports someone who serves, I can tell you, it will be appreciated. Greatly appreciated.

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.” – Vera Nazarian

Would you be interested in seeing more blog posts on how to support military families? Feel free to let me know in the comments section.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

Graduation thoughts – decades later…

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“Keep in mind that neither success nor failure is ever final.” – Roger Babson

So today, June 13, is the 33rd anniversary of my graduation from high school. Wow. I know, I know… I just dated myself…

Maybe I am nostalgic because my third child graduated last month, and baby number four will graduate in two years. Maybe I am nostalgic because my granddaughter graduated kindergarten on the same day of my graduation anniversary. Maybe it’s hormones. But today truly has been a day of reflection.

First, how on earth did 33 years fly by so quickly? I haven’t done half of what I had planned to accomplish on that sunny day back in 1980. My plans were to head to college and become an accountant. Fame and fortune and a corner office downtown were waiting. Those plans changed quickly when I bombed pre-calculus and realized I didn’t love accounting enough to waste the time on trying to pass the class a second time around – on my dime. (Yes, I am one of those rare breeds that paid for my schooling.) So when I saw that the accountant gig wasn’t going to pan out, I fell back on to my childhood dream of being writer, and I was going to be the next, best reporter. Ever.

But then, marriage and four kids came along, and I never finished that journalism degree. In hindsight, maybe that was good, as print journalism took a nose dive. The military life had us moving around, and by the time we finally settled back home and my brood started to enter school, I had left the world of newspaper advertising and began freelance writing for local and daily papers and magazines. It was a wonderful balance.

I married a great guy – my soldier, a true hero – and we have four great kids of our own, and two recent additions – our son-in-law and daughter-in-law. We have two beautiful granddaughters. We receive wonderful accolades on our children – better than a Pulitzer or a byline in a newspaper.

The gal with the diploma didn’t have a clue that she’d meet her husband on a blind date, become a military wife, a mom times four, a military mom or a struggling writer. She didn’t know she’d live in Hawaii or visit other areas of the world. She didn’t know the joy and pain of being a parent; how hard it would be to watch her children struggle, face disappointments or to send a son off to basic training; she also had no clue as to how it would feel to have her husband and son deployed back-to-back in a war zone. She didn’t know she’d watch her dad succumb to the ravages of the worst disease ever – Alzheimer’s.

She didn’t know that she’d realize what her faith meant to her, and that she’d echo the same sentiment as her dad – that the only thing that really mattered was that her children came to know Christ. She didn’t realize what her mother went through, until she, herself, faced similar life situations and drew on the strength of her insanely strong mom.

That very shy graduate, the one who rarely opened her mouth back in the day, couldn’t possibly have known that one day, she’d have op-eds published in two Detroit dailies. That she’d defend her babies and march right into the school on two occasions, confronting teachers that bullied her daughters. That, paid or not, she’d keep her dream of writing alive. That she could face her fears and shyness and actually perform a few skits on a stage. In front of large crowds. That above all, God, family and love would be the priorities in her life.

She couldn’t have known that her fellow graduates would also face life struggles: divorces, deaths, job losses – and that they’d find fellowship in supporting each other as they grew older. That the smaller, more intimate gatherings weren’t to see who was the most successful, but to support each other and cheer them on – during the good times and the bad.

When I think back to the 18-year-old girl grasping the diploma, I wonder – did I disappoint her? I didn’t become the bang-whiz accountant or the ace reporter – that’s for sure. But, what I didn’t achieve for her career-wise, I sure think I made up for in other ways. She has a Master’s in the school of hard-knocks, which went a long way in developing her character. You see, that young kid is pretty damned content with how it has all turned out, and she learned that true success is measured in love.

And by that measurement, she knows that she has been repeatedly and abundantly blessed.

Do you ever reflect on your high school graduation? Let me know in the comments below.

© 2013 – Lynne Cobb

The World’s Most Beautiful Woman and the Sexiest Man – um, no

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“Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are.” – Markus Zusak

A few weeks ago, I watched the Dove Real Beauty Sketches video, (httpssss://www.youtube.com/watch?v=litXW91UauE&feature=youtube_gdata_player). This is pretty profound, as a sketch artist draws women based on how they describe themselves. Not surprising, the women are very critical of their own looks, and really don’t see themselves as others see them.

So this morning, while on Facebook, I saw the Dove Sketch once again. I scrolled further and learned that a Hollywood actress has been named by People Magazine as “The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.” I am not naming her, as this commentary isn’t about her at all.

It is about the wrong messages we continue to pump out to our children and teenagers.

I guess I am just reveling in the irony.

We tell our little children that beauty is skin deep, and it is what is on the inside that really counts. And I believe that. I believe that the more beautiful and confident you are in yourself, the more your beauty is projected to the world in through your actions, your smiles, your attitude, your eyes. It has nothing to do with the size of your nose, the space in your teeth, the color of your hair or the size of your chest.

Beauty lies deep within your soul.

So, just how does an actress get to be the “Most Beautiful in the World?” Or, for that matter, what makes an actor the “Sexiest Man Alive?” Let’s face it. Physically, if I had a trainer, a personal chef, a make-up artist, a clothing coordinator, etc., I, too, would have a shot at being the most beautiful woman in the world.

I guess my “most beautiful person” check list is different from a magazine’s, or society’s in general. Especially when the person is given the additional “Of the World” title.

I define beauty in many ways:

Beauty is: staying up all night with a sick baby, a distressed friend, a dying parent or grandparent, a stressed-out spouse. Beauty is seeing a child pick a dandelion and run to give it to mommy. (Have you ever seen the look on a mom’s face? Or the child’s? Watch it – that is beauty!)

Beauty is seeing your husband hold that baby in his arms the first time.

Beauty is celebrating someone’s accomplishments even when your efforts have failed.

Beauty is watching your sons and nephews cry at their grandfather’s funeral.

Beauty, in my opinion, is character.

My thoughts are the same about the “Sexiest Man Alive.

To me, sexy is also character. How does a man treat a woman, or a woman treat a man? With respect? I have heard beautiful men and women chastise, curse and otherwise “be ugly” to their significant other. In public! I’m thinking that isn’t too “hot” or sexy…

Sexy is confidence, without hanging the goods out for all to see (yes, this applies to men and women…)

Sexy is respecting one’s body, as well as others.

Sexy is character.

I know these magazines name the Hollywood types “most beautiful” and “most sexy” to sell more product. I get it. But the problem is, we are sending mixed messages to our kids. We celebrate exterior beauty by placing these folks on the covers of magazines, in centerfolds, on the big screen and so forth.

It would be so refreshing to see someone on the cover of People Magazine who was being honored for character.

Maybe that would help send the message to our kids that character counts. That being beautiful and sexy is only as good as what is on the inside.

It’s not just a few exterior assets that make one beautiful or sexy. It’s the whole package.

What are your thoughts? Do think we emphasize physical beauty more than we should?

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

Dear complaint department…

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“I believe in grumbling; it is the politest form of fighting known.” Edgar Watson Howe

Some days, stupid things bug me more than on other days, and today is one of those days.

Stupid can be okay, because it takes one’s focus off of bigger problems – at least temporarily. And when I complain, I usually preface the complaint with, “I know there are starving kids around the world, catastrophic illnesses and injuries, but…” and then I get said complaint purged from my system.

So…here goes. My complaint of the day is…

I will be a chaperone/driver for a field trip this week. After raising kids for over 27 years and counting, I still enjoy field trips, hanging with my kids and their friends, and feeling like I am helping out at school. But… I have seen some real stupid paperwork come home from school over the past two decades, and I have to say, this one is the topper.

Doing due diligence, I filled out my “Parent’s Form” to include name; insurance company; make, model and year of car; number of seat belts, noting that students won’t be allowed to ride without being belted in; blah, blah, blah. Okay, important stuff.

And then this: “Parents, no smoking on the field trip.”

Really?

So, as a more-than-qualified field trip parent, and a once smoker/ex-smoker/social smoker, I was a bit irritated. Have smokers become “evil?”Let’s not forget to mention that one can’t smoke in restaurants, on school grounds, in the museum, in a library, at the zoo, at hospitals and most other places that are field trip destinations, so was that line really necessary?

Personally, I find that somewhat insulting. Isn’t that a given? Don’t most parents know that we are setting good examples for our children and being ambassadors of the school? Honestly, if we are going demonize a bad habit on a field trip, why stop at one?

So, if smokers can’t smoke on the field trip, then parents using other devices as their vices are advised that the following bad habits and behaviors are also not tolerated:

  • No texting while driving.
  • No chatting on the phone while driving.
  • No drinking alcohol while driving.
  • No swearing on the field trip (I will cut you some slack while driving).
  • No road rage while driving.
  • No eating while driving.
  • No applying make-up or shaving while driving.
  • No reading while driving.
  • No sniffing glue while driving.
  • No medicinal marijuana while on the trip.
  • No Slurpees or Big Gulps or overeating.
  • No nose- or teeth-picking while driving.
  • Hide your tattoo(es).
  • No bastardizing, demonizing, politicizing or proselytizing.

When looking for volunteers, why this handy-dandy list will eliminate the scourge of the Earth from even thinking of assisting!

Seriously, I, of course, am not defending bad habits, just adding a layer of humor to a society that is hell-bent on making some people’s bad habits worse than others. Just offering a reality check that maybe folks shouldn’t be condescending to others, just because one’s choice of a bad habit is different from another’s.

We’re all human. Everyone has bad habits. Let’s start giving folks a little credit for being smart enough to discern the situation and do the right thing. Most people will behave responsibly, even without a note from the principal…

Do you get irked over stupid statements? Let me know in the comments section!

© 2013 – Lynne Cobb

Sex, Super Bowl and Sundaes

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“Everyone in society should be a role model, not only for their own self-respect, but for respect from others.” – Barry Bonds

Like so many other Americans, I spent last night watching the Super Bowl. My teen-aged daughter had a couple of her gal pals over, and we feasted on pizza, chips and make-your-own sundaes.

I admit that I don’t know a whole lot about football, and the game itself doesn’t interest me much. As a writer with a background in journalism, advertising and public relations, I watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.

This year, I was pretty disappointed.

My daughter and her pals use the word “awkward” for most any situation. So when the Calvin Klein, scantily clad male-model underwear commercial aired, in a room with impressionable young ladies, let’s say I felt, um, awkward.

Dismissing the commercial as inappropriate, I reminded the girls that, like female models, this guy didn’t represent real guys. And most men don’t do interpretive dance in their skivvies (I think!). I mean, they may slide across the floor like Tom Cruise in “Risky Business,” but not like in this commercial. And Tom did have a shirt on, too, didn’t he?

Of course, these types of commercials are prevalent. Airbrushed men and women grace our big-screen TVs and magazine pages, and make us average Joes look like the Stay-Puf Marshmallow Man. I think I am dating myself.

When Beyoncé took to center stage for the half-time show, let’s say at that point “awkward” was an understatement. I thought that I should run and stand in front of the TV, blocking the girls’ view, not caring about being labeled the old-fashioned, non-cool mom. But I didn’t. Instead, I took the opportunity as a teaching moment; to say that the attire these gals were wearing for the entire world to see was, in my opinion, entirely inappropriate. And because of what they wore, they sold themselves short. Basically, their talent came in second to their costumes, and that is sad.

Oh, I am a fuddy-dud. But please, hear me out.

Sex sells. That has been proven over and over again. But in our culture, we are selling ourselves out. We are getting to the point that we are being de-sensitized. Does that matter? In a word, yes! Well, why?

Just as with violence, we keep pushing sexual images on everyone. Young, impressionable kids are told by our attitudes that “sex is bad; sex is dirty,” and then they see images on TV and in magazines showing big boobs, tight butts, trim bellies and more. They are so used to seeing these images, that there is a need to show more and more skin to make  messages and shows more effective and enticing. And shocking.

Sadly, the more skin they see, the less they find it shocking. Our young ladies are basically encouraged to dress provocatively to get attention, because that is the message they are sent. So, any talents or skills they have are second in line to how much skin they bare. And it is spilling over to the guy’s side now, too.

When we, as a culture, de-sensitize sex, at what point do those lines blur into increased incidents of sexual harassment, assault, rape and other crimes?

I remember back when I was about 18 or 19 years-old, and I was heading out the door to meet my friends. I had on a brand-new, tight-fitting skirt, with a very long slit. It showed plenty of thigh.

My dad stopped me at the door.

“You’re not wearing that out of this house,” he hollered.

“What?” I responded, shocked and stunned. I mean, come on, Dad, I’m a legal adult!

“That sends the wrong message,” he yelled.

“What are you talking about?” I yelled back.

“That slit will be sewn up. You are not walking out the door in that thing. End of discussion.”

And he walked away.

Stunned, I went back into my room, changed, and muttered about getting my own place and wearing what I wanted. A few days later, when cooler heads prevailed, my mom sewed the slit to an approved length.

I am really sorry I never thanked my dad for that valuable lesson. Though he didn’t use these exact words, by his actions, he was showing his concern; that he wanted me to respect myself enough to not sell myself short. If some young man wanted me, then he should want me for who I was; the whole package – not just the thighs.

I bet if I post a racy photo on my blog today, it will generate a whole lot more hits than by just posting my words. But that’s okay. I am not going to cheapen myself. No Dad, I am glad I listened. I wish you were here for me to say thanks. Whatever I do in the world will be done to God’s glory, via the talent He’s given me, not by selling myself short.

So there it is – my a-ha moment. After all these years, it hit me last night while giggling with the gals and eating ice cream smothered in chocolate, caramel and whipping cream: If a product or a person needs to be sexualized in order to sell, then you know what? It isn’t worth my money or time.

An a-ha moment I plan to share with my kids. And their friends.

What do you think? Am I old-fashioned or onto something here? Let me know in the comments section.

© 2013 – Lynne Cobb

Guess what? Spelling matters!

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In high school I tried out for the spelling team, but only because I really wanted a letter jacket.”
― Jarod Kintz

English:
ten·ter
/ˈtentər/Noun
Definition: A framework on which fabric can be held taut for drying or other treatment during manufacture.
Synonyms
stretcher

French:
[ta(n) tay]
Definition: to tempt, attempt, try

So…who’s up for some “tenter” flat iron steak?

Wow. I have seen some whoppers in my day, but that one (see my photo above) was a big error. And if you look close, you will see another glaring mistake.

Words spelled incorrectly, phrases used in the wrong context – one can see these in newspapers, magazines, ads and so forth. They are nothing new. In fact, Jay Leno made a name for himself by airing some of these awful mistakes during his “Headlines” segment.

In an editing class I took about 10 years ago, our professor would give us extra credit for errors found on the front page of the paper where he was employed. Suffice to say, I received extra credit every week.

And that was a decade ago. Since that time, the errors seem to be getting worse.

Trust me, I will admit that I bend almost every grammatical rule in the English language. Yes, I end sentences with prepositions – I even start sentences that way! I make errors, letting my participles dangle for all to see. But no matter what I am working on, I always have someone read my work before I submit it. From newsletters to articles, they will be looked at before I send them off to an editor. Bless his heart, no matter where my husband is in the world, I send him my work and ask him to proofread. After he looks it over with fresh eyes, I am confident enough to send my work to an editor, and let a professional polish my words, making them presentable in print.

Errors will happen, but I think the reason they are so prevalent these days is that we are taking humans out of the equation. Print publishing has taken a huge smack in the finance department. Professional writers, like me, have seen pink slips and pay cuts. Many have changed careers, so the field of qualified proofreaders is shrinking. In the meantime, editors have become over-worked and underpaid. Therefore, mistakes are made.

My assumption is that corporations seeking to save a dollar have found it cheaper to use spelling and grammar software than to pay a professional who has a firm grasp of the English language. The cheaper-than-an-editor forms of copy editing and proofing ensure that the errors, which used to happen on occasion, now happen on a regular basis.

In my humble opinion, I find that this is a huge mistake.

Standards for our language have been edged out by electronic communications. Shortened words and phrases due to texts and Tweets make for an abbreviated form of the written language. And, may I add, this is spilling over into our verbal communication skills as well. But I digress.

So, excuse me while I jump up high here on my soapbox, as I want to share a few pointers with those who feel writers and editors are expendable:

– Spelling skills matter.
– Good writing is an art.
– Fact check before printing. One “Googled” source doesn’t count.
– Let a human proofread.
– Using slang? Don’t rely on reality television. Double check the term with Urban Dictionary for context.
– Using foreign terms? Look up spelling for those words and phrases, too.

If you are a business owner, pay for a professional writer to either write or proofread your company’s communications, to include email blasts, newsletters, Web content, Tweets and blogs.

Never underestimate the power of an English major. For, at the end of the day, we have a tenter tender heart for those who appreciate us.

Do spelling errors drive you crazy? Share in the comments section.
© Lynne Cobb -2013

Exercise and New Year’s resolutions…

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“Exercise is a dirty word.  Every time I hear it, I wash my mouth out with chocolate.”  ~Author Unknown

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Not because I am afraid of commitment (well, that all depends on the commitment – ha ha!). My personal feeling is that I have all year to resolve to better myself, and that was exactly what I did last year.

Deciding to become healthier, I started buying more organic foods, used less cleaning chemicals, tried gardening, made my own natural toiletries, and I quit smoking (okay, I will admit one or two puffs on an organic cigarette in the course of a year, but hey, not bad considering the almost pack-a-day habit of last year.)

Well, what happens when one quits smoking? Metabolism changes, and sometimes snacking becomes the new smoking. Someone told me to expect a 25-pound weight gain.

Well, call me stupid, but I am thinking that putting on that much weight in one year isn’t much healthier than smoking.

But I persevered, didn’t smoke, put on enough weight to make me cry and want to throw things and even blog about being blue over not finding jeans that fit! (Remember this? httpssss://lynnecobb.com/2012/08/18/dressing-rooms-blue-jeans-and-a-midlife-crisis/ )

Of course, my dear husband (and any of my children who were in earshot) listened to my rants.

Now, over the course of almost 30 years, my husband, who is also a soldier, told me that the cure for all ills is exercise. For example, I might say, “I’m freezing.” His response will always be, “Do push-ups.” Or, me, “I’m tired,” and he’d say, “exercise.” And me, someone who thinks sweating is gross, rolled my eyes. Every. Single. Time.

So, as I saw I was getting a little pudgy and flipping out over it, I decided that maybe my soldier is correct.

So, I started walking. Success.

Then, I started biking. Success.

My bike is a retro-looking one speed. I call it a “me speed.” It goes as fast as I can go. It goes up hills, dependent upon – me. And the first few hills this I tried, well, let’s just say I walked my bike. Then one day, I made it up the hill.

I was hooked. On exercise. The thing I detested most.

Well, not hooked enough to ride my bike in the winter in Michigan. So, in the fall, I started floor exercises. I can now do over 35 crunches, and lots of tilts and even three Army regulation push-ups.

Success!

I am a machine!

So when my 15-year-old daughter, who is on the cheer team, told me she did side planks, I was curious.

And I Googled “side plank.” Good for strengthening the abdominal muscles.

Well, looking at that photo, I knew I could do that. Lay on my side, feet together. Elbow bent. Support my body weight. Feel the burn. Yeah, not the good “no pain, no gain” burn. Ow.

Success – no.

There are somethings a personal trainer should show you. Exercises are one of them.

Needless to say, I have been pampering my strained arm for four days. Writers type, and at the moment, typing can be very painful. Lucky for me, essential oil of peppermint is awesome at alleviating pain 🙂 And it is organic!

And dark chocolate is a great antioxidant, and releases good endorphins, which help manage pain.

I just hope this arm heals soon, because I want to exercise again. Yikes, did I say that? I did say that! I want to exercise again. Because you know that average 25 pound weight gain? Not only did I avoid that, I am down to my “smoking days” weight. And I feel better when I exercise.

So, needless to say, in this New Year, I have resolved to rethink my adversity to resolutions. And I resolve to consult with a certified trainer for exercises that are unfamiliar. Or at least consult with one when those exercises look “easy” on Google images

PS – laughter is a good pain medicine, too 🙂

Do you have any exercise “fail” stories you are willing to share?

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

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