Making It Last Too Long

There are times when the humor of a situation overrides the embarrassment and a story just has to be shared. This morning I am experiencing one of those trying moments and here are a few others I have witnessed (or been party to).


I don’t know about men, but periodically in a woman’s lifetime she will experience extreme dismay, and probably embarrassment, at the whim of her underwear. It may only be once; it may be as a child or as an adult; but it will happen at some point. No one is spared this – ever.

Often the incident involves a garment that once fit well and no longer does, whether it is because our body has changed or with wear the garment has. Another frequent cause is the just the frustration of a fabric choice turning out to be uncomfortably wrong.

I am sure they exist, but I have never met any female that actually like cotton panties. While they would be cool and more comfortable than the prettier synthetic versions, cotton seems to have a mind of its own and penchant for grabbing on to any other nearby fabric. Marketing suggests that they sell well; I just don’t know who actually chooses to wear them. As preteens I think we all suffered from poorly positioned panties sticking to our slips, skirts, slack and jeans. But one acquaintance was determined to solve this problem. Every day when she arrived at school she exchanged the comfortable nylon panties in her locker for the cotton ones provided by her mother. And every afternoon she would switch back in to her torture garment before heading home. Eventually this got just too tedious and being the adventurous sort, she eventually just didn’t bother with wearing any at all, except when at home. But my free spirited friend was a bit too comfortable it seems once we were in college. One night, while rehearsing a scene where she was to slide down a fire pole, the entire cast and crew was treated to the knowledge that she preferred to go au naturale under her skirts. She completely forgot that her short costume was missing anything to cover her well-shaped posterior as it fluttered in the breeze on her way to the ground. Till that night I had wondered if anything was capable of flustering her, but her head-to-toe blush as she froze at the bottom of the pole proved her quite human. And it was a moment I think we have all remembered to this day.

Another case of baring it all for an audience took the more common accidental tuck of a hemline in one’s panty hose a step farther than usual. Instead of merely flashing a few people as you walk by with half your butt displayed, another friend managed to bare it all before a 40th floor window. In frustration over a slip with elastic that had chosen midday to give out completely, she stood in her cubicle, back to the window, watching down the aisle to be sure no one was approaching and yanked the slip out from underneath her skirt to dispose of it. Or at least that was the plan. She had forgotten that in order to keep the slip in place earlier, she had tucked the slip into the elastic waistband of her skirt. Suddenly she was standing at her floor to ceiling window with only her sheer panty hose on from the waist down. Luckily she managed to retrieve the skirt from the floor before any colleagues could respond to her startled gasp. But she always wondered if anyone in the adjacent office building happened to be looking her direction at just the right moment.

Another time expired elastic resulted in a most unique version of the Monty Python “Silly Walks” sketch. It turned out that the colleague walking so strangely to the ladies rooms was actually holding a pair of reversed panties in place. By reversed, we mean the elastic had expired completely and the waistband had fallen to mid-thigh. Only the failing elastic in the legs and her talented thighs were keeping the apparently demised things from falling to the ground. The talented lady actually made it safely through the accounting office, past the Vice President and his secretary, and into a restroom stall to discreetly dispose of the limp remains.

Are you are noticing a theme here? The real culprit is elastic. We are no longer in the days of lacing up garments or tying them around us to keep them in place. But in either an effort to conserve spending, or more likely just distaste for shopping for underwear, we tend to forget that the elastic we depend on so much actually does have a shorter lifetime than ourselves and it can disintegrate without warning. And to that end those who wear the more supportive undergarments, such as Spanx, need to bear this last anecdote in mind, and not wear them till they give out.

Having recently lost considerable weight, discovering that the previously supportive underwear now was loose was considered a pleasant discovery and once dressed, was paid no more mind. A few hours later, however, it felt as though the garment was mysteriously even looser, though still fitting snugly in the crucial waist and leg openings. Knowing there had not been a noticeable loss of girth in the course of sitting at a desk for part of a morning, there was cause to wonder if this had just gone unnoticed while dressing (being less than completely awake), or if it was just an exaggerated comparison to memory. Eventually, however, the morning coffee took its toll and we were off to the restroom. The garment did indeed feel a bit lose, if not limp, as I walked down the hall, but the discovery upon raising my skirt in the stall explained it all. When elastic finally gives up the ghost, it literally disintegrates, leaving little grains of the “rubber” dropping from the threads it once encased. Do you have any idea how much of this is in elasticized fabric? A shower of tiny latex beads was pilling from my panties and collecting on the inside of the skirt and inside the panties. I soon witnessed what looked like the world’s worst case of flakey skin or dandruff, except that it actually bounced before accumulating on the floor. Solution? There was a serious temptation to follow the example in the first anecdote and toss the mess in the trash; my skirt being long enough to have no risk of reprising Marilyn Monroe’s ventilation grate scene. But that still seemed a bit too risqué for the office. So rather than risk this continuing and an unplanned public release, a brisk rubbing of pilling fabric to pilling fabric was done over paper towels to dispose of as much “latex snow” as possible while still having undergarments to finish the day. Such an “amusing” start to the work week.

Buble vs Bing (Crosby)

Blake Shelton has a voice I could listen to anytime; it’s just tugs at me.  Even when I don’t particularly care for the lyrics he’s singing, and especially when he’s joking around, his voice just seems to caress the ears.

Rod Stewart, well for my generation, do you really think I can flip a TV channel past him?  Not hardly.

Michael Buble has is good vocalist with better than average stage presence, but I could nap through most of his broadcasts.   Talented, but nothing special for me.

So tonight, despite my almost life-long aversion to television Christmas Specials, as I sat down to decompress from work not much was on to compete with NBC’s nightly Xmas Krap and I just happened to power up the TV in the midst of a duet between Stewart and Buble.  So, I decided to force the reflexes into quiet down and try to enjoy this.

The duet was ok, even with Stewart coming across as the clearly more seasoned artist.  He was clearly holding back to give his host some of the limelight and it came across as very nice.  “Nice” not being a term I recall ever using in the same sentence with “Rod Stewart” before, but this was.   And the anticipation of Shelton performing actually had me looking forward to more.

The next segment was a technical delight, but completely unacceptable.  While the green screen production of a very realistic, comical banter between Buble and Bing Crosby, one step too far ruined all appreciation for the segment.   After the well edited skit, Mr. Buble proceeded to perform a duet with the recorded performance of Mr. Crosby’s classic “White Christmas”.   However, this was a bad idea both because even those of us with a severely limited appreciation for Christmas carols tend to hold that particular classic as inviolate.  Strike One!  Perhaps even worse is that as Buble’s voice began to overwhelm the recording of Crosby, it was clear that he has neither the vocal range nor the style of his predecessor.  In fact, his voice pales by comparison; even more so when the comparison is direct and simultaneous. Strike Two!

And this not being baseball, but rather a product of blatant mass marketing and hype of a holiday, there is no third try, Mr. Buble.  Simply, good luck with your career.  Luckily voice overs and background “muzak” pay much better these days than back in Bing’s day. 

To the RIGHT!

I tried unsuccessfully to delude myself into thinking the reason of a recent increase in a particular type of road hazard was in flux of visitors from the British Isles.  But truthfully what sane Brit would visit the broiling climes of North Texas in August?   No; it is far more plausible that my fellow drivers need to either respect each other more, or re-enroll in a Driver’s Ed course.

For some reason I keep encountering more and more oncoming vehicles in my lane ….. my right ….. their left.  Given the rarity of places where one drives a motor vehicle on the left side of the road, I see no excuse for this.  If the person behind the wheel was distracted by their phone, an unruly child, or a sudden medical emergency, I still would not appreciate them endangering me, but at least I would understand what was happening.  But I watch to see how best to avoid them, the drivers appear to be looking right at me.

There have always been those incapable of using only one lane to make right turns, those who drive down the middle of roads with no lane markers, and those who confuse their right and left.  I happen to be ambidextrous at almost everything except the use of pens and pencils, but I have no trouble to keeping the side of the road that U. S. traffic laws dictate.  So I have no tolerance for those who threaten to collide with we who obey the law.  

I would think it was just a spate of bad luck for me, but there has also been a recent increase of head-on collisions on the local highways caused by people entering highways via the exit ramps in order to drive on the wrong side of the thoroughfares.  In most cases these drivers have later proven to be impeded by alcohol consumption. 

Does this mean all these soccer moms and bubbas in white pickup trucks are drunk in the middle of the day, as the run errands between home and wally-world?  If so, that is even scarier than my daily encounters with one or two of them.

Armstrong vs. USADA

My blog posts are usually about things that affect me directly, but today this is out of sheer frustration over an issue that I really don’t have much connection with, just empathy.
This morning’s major news story, especially in Texas, is Lance Armstrong’s attempt to end his decade long ordeal with the USADA. With no interest in cycling, no respect for chemically altered athletes, but admiration for the work Armstrong has done in recent years with his Live Strong Foundation, my initial reaction was that is probably best that the issue be laid to rest and Armstrong move on rather than continue to deplete his time and energy in what seems destined to be a lost cause.

I was still incensed that an organization with only contractual authority (many forget that the USADA is NOT federal agency) could take away awards given by a foreign entity on the hearsay of other competitors. That smacks of what is now called McCarthyism, which plagued such notables as Charlie Chaplin, Dashiell Hammet, Lena Horne, Robert Oppenheimer, Paul Robeson and countless other who did not survive the unfounded public slander of Joseph McCarthy.

Then, when less distracted, a few more issues came to mind. I ditched the social commentary and abridged newscasts and sought more information….. the judge’s actual ruling on the case that brought about Armstrong’s resignation. By the time I finished reading it, I had a whole new perspective on the issues at hand.

While it is a well founded suspicion that the USADA will strip him of his medals, the hearing on the charges have not happened. The court case was to nullify the agreement signed to submit such issues to arbitration. Once again someone is facing impending damages because they either unwittingly or when left with no other choice, agreed to binding arbitration. If you have never been through that process, let me enlighten you. Binding arbitration is a tool of companies to avoid legal expense and public exposure when there is a disagreement between parties. Due process is loosely abided by, if at all, and the odds are always in the company’s favor, not the individual’s. The court case was predominately about Armstrong trying to even the playing field by having the court nullify the agreement. And as no surprise to most people, the agreement was upheld. What was surprising was the judge’s admission that the expense of further court costs was a factor in that decision. The USADA has been spending funds as if there was no limit on anyone’s financing, but the judge was concerned about more tax dollars being on spent on a judicial hearing instead of a closed arbitration hearing.

The other issue at hand was one of jurisdiction. At the time of the competitions, the USADA did not govern American cyclists competing in anything other than the Olympics and Para-Olympics. Since that time agreements between the organizations have overlapped authority in regard to eligibility. The court ruling pointed out that the governing bodies for this sport have not settled on how to handle this issue, and given that the case is already declined due to the arbitration issue, there was no reason to proceed further.

Now that is my totally laymen’s explanation, and you can read through all the legal technicalities cited in the ruling, but for me it is clear why Armstrong has decided to step back and let things proceed.

First, he doesn’t have much choice until the arbitration hearings take place. Then if the USADA proves to be as unethical as their track record hints at, he can take action. But the point is there has to be proof of infractions committed by the USADA before legal action can be taken. You cannot sue someone because you know in their heart they are about to screw you over.

Secondly, while Armstrong’s retreat from the conflict this morning fueled those already convince of his guilt, it also garnered sympathy from others for an individual who accepted that sometimes there is more to be lost in continuing a battle than by taking a chance with surrender. Sometimes you have to reconsider the cost, even when you thought you picked your battle wisely.



Aside from whether or not Lance Armstrong used drugs he shouldn’t have while competing, aside from whether or not the USADA is pursuing this because they need to reinforce their mandate to stop doping, there is another issue that I think needs to be considered.

Why do we fault athletes for human flaws more than we honor them for what they can do far better than we could ever dream of doing ourselves?
Jim Thorpe was destroyed over having played SEMI-pro ball in an era when it was doubtful he could have earned a living any other way and he certainly was not getting assistance or training that anyone would have considered to be on a professional level.

Michael Phelps is under fire for someone else prematurely publishing an advertisement he made.

I know many a competitive swimmer that has asked why they can work as a Life Guard at a pool and retain their amateur status, but not teach a kid to swim so they won’t need a Life Guard to rescue them.

In none of these cases was the athlete given an unusually unfair advantage over their competitors, which SHOULD be the issue at hand. Even if Armstrong did everything he is accused of doing while competing in the Tour de France, it was an even playing field because, as the witnesses themselves have repeatedly stated, “EVERYONE was doing it.” Which, to me, means that the medals were not given to the wrong person; if anything, the race itself was a farce.

Too distracted or just incapable?

Are you so distracted by your gadgets you don’t know what is going on around you, or are you so self centered you don’t give a damn about anything beyond your own person?


There have always been people who just don’t think beyond the immediate ONE absolute priority in their life at any given moment; whether it be crippling chest pains or that one strand of hair that has fallen out of place.

I seem to have been blessed with more of these obtrusive obstacles than usual lately. Is there an Oblivious epidemic that is more virulent than the West Nile Virus going around? Has the proliferation of distractions reached the saturation point? Or am I just too damned lucky?

Even I am guilty of being the person in front of the elevator that ends up having to step aside to let someone off before I can get on. We are all subject to the dumb luck of waiting on the same side that the only passenger happened to stand on. So I don’t give it second though when my own exit involves a side step. But three people elbow to elbow, 6 inches in front of the door? Really, people, how did you expect to all entered at one time, even if I hadn’t been waiting to step off. And don’t just glare at me – one of you has to step back. It’s logistics, people!

Then there are the people walking along looking at their latest electronic leash instead of where they are going. The walk way is wide enough for 3 – 4 people and has two way traffic. In the U.S. we drive on the right side of thorough fares, and most of us walk that way too, except where there are cars and pedestrians sharing the same one. So why, when everyone else in front of you are keeping to the right and there are others approaching on the left, do you move to your left as you get closer? Do I know you? Are you trying to stop me for a conversation? You are slower than those around you, so you are not moving left to walk around anyone. LOOK UP! Watch where you are going! Why should I have to dodge you? The phrase use to be, if you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time; choose. These days it’s, if you can’t walk and text (or even talk) at the same time you need to stop one or the other.

But my all time favorite reached a pinnacle this morning; inspiring this tirade. My own mother used to be one of those infuriating people who walks through a door and stops. Stops while blocking the door they just came through for anyone that might be behind them trying to do the same. Even in elementary school I knew never to do this. Not only does it anger other people trying to use the doorway, you are liable to get knocked aside by a door (if it’s one on hinges), or by something worse – someone without my manners, who just shoves you out of their way. At the worst, when blockaded by these people in their own little world, I just glare and stomp past them. But today, I actually put a shoulder in to a man. Intentionally, no, but without any regret whatsoever. This large mass of sub-par intelligence stopped for a call on his cell phone at the top of an escalator. He not only was still on the metal grating where the escalator meets the flooring, he had not even stepped to one side. One half of his mass was blocking one half of where I was required to step as the elevator reached the top. I started to call to him before reaching his level, but decided to just simply step around the moron. But I misjudged the clearance and my shoulder hit the back of his arm – hopefully the one holding the cell phone to his ear. I don’t know because I didn’t not even look as I continued past him as if nothing happened. Trust me; it was in his best interest that I pretended to be the oblivious one at that moment. No one wanted to hear the dialogue regarding his action that was coursing (and cursing) through my mind.

Please, if you are able to stand and walk, but doing maxes out your ability to multitask, please don’t push your limits in public. Choices are hard to make sometimes, but for the sake of the rest of the public, practice walking and talking at the same on your own – in private!

Impatience vs. Laziness

This classic battle has probably gone on throughout the entire history of mankind; between people and even within each person.

Recently my frustration with this conflict peaked and forced me to act. My mother always condemned my lack of patience, but these days I get praise for it. I would like to think that it was something I learned over time and acquired with maturity. But looking back over recent events, I question that. I accept that it is nothing I accomplished; intentionally or otherwise. Society changed; not me.

I am old enough to remember having to wait a week or more to hear from friends by mail. Having moved frequently I was very aware that it would take a few days for my letter to reach its destination, a day or two for a reply to be written, and then a few more days for their letter to travel to my new home. Today, even the mail only takes a fraction the time it did in the 1960’s to go from one side of the country to the other; on the rare occasions when we slow down enough to actually mail hand-written letters.

Not surprisingly the younger generations have come to expect immediacy – in everything. “Wait” has become an even fouler 4-letter word than those my mother threatened to wash out of my mouth with soap. But older generations have not been immune to the “NOW!” virus. We all wish “wait” was no longer even in our vocabulary at times, but making someone wait should not always be treated as a criminal act.

Savoring, creating, appreciating, understanding, all take time. They are valued largely because they take more time to accomplish. And because they require, time and patience, they are not easy and not everyone does them equally well. Taking the time to do something well should not be condemned as laziness or lack of commitment by those who must rely on others to accomplish such tasks. If they could do it better or quicker, they would most certainly have done it themselves. It’s just the way we are.

The impatient ones in our lives may not be solely to blame, though. We all have been lazy at times. I doubt anyone is unfamiliar with after having agreed to something, and then delaying because either we lost interest or actually disliked what was being asked of us. Because our pride, ego, or something else keeps us from speaking up and admitting we just don’t want to do something, others have learned to suspect this scenario any time things don’t happen as quickly as they expect. What the impatient person needs to learn, is to either ask if this is the problem, or accept that their time frame may not be the same as someone else’s and find a way to work with that; other than to lay blame and cause conflict.

Conflict, blame and misdirection wastes more time and effort than even the laziest person.

Old School Manners

A brief and casual encounter with a friend that I really am not that close to or know all that well made me truly appreciate what some have learned to ignore, or worse ridicule.


I have always had an intellectual appreciation for the customs, manner, etiquette or whatever you choose to classify what my English nanny taught me as a child. At the time, I was not very appreciative, except when bribed with tea cakes and scones. No five year old tom-boy wants to sit in a straight backed chair, with her ankles crossed (demurely, she would say) and juggle teacups and saucers destined to be spilled on the dress worn only for such occasions. Nor would those who know me well expect me to sit quietly smiling (“seen and not heard”) while the adults discussed the matters of the day; even at that age.

Perhaps it was this early implantation of a sense decorum that made my early encounters with Japanese culture so appealing. If there was anyone whose manners were stricter than a 1950’s British matriarch, it had to be Japanese women. Of course, in later years I discover that there were even more Asian cultures that elevated similar images of the serene and graceful side of the female nature. I also discovered that such reverence is a double-edged sword; the other edge being obedient subservience. It is true even in the more subtle cultures of the West, where that sword has dulled the fastest.

My encounter the other night was no philosophical analysis of society. It was a friendly discussion over dinner that bore none of the traits I mentioned above. And yet a gesture, a comment, and simple words that probably know one else noticed has brought a smile to me for days and spurred this commentary.

The days when men held a woman’s chair, helped her with her coat, or opened car doors for her on a regular basis are a distant memory for some of us; and almost a freak of nature for younger generations. There was a time when it was habit; even an unconscious reflex for older men. Today, if done at all, it is almost a grand gesture. It is often a calculated move to impress a date, or worse, done only because a man knows the woman he is with demands it at the price of civility.

As I was escorted to a seat for dinner, my chair was pulled out and held for me. No surprise, it was the restaurant’s manager. About the only time one can expect such courtesy is from the staff of nicer restaurants. I noticed it, but promptly forgot it once seated.

A few minutes later, I decided to remove my jacket. As if appearing magically, gentle and skilled hands were helping off with the jacket. Not only was the gesture a surprise, but also the grace with which it was done. And I remembered the night we met and went bar hopping, he did the same for me and the other women present. He has not abandoned the manners he was taught in exchange for disregard or laziness.

I noticed as he and the friend who had joined us were fully engaged in conversation, he continued to include me in the conversation with his smiles, gestures and comments. And I was more than comfortable to sit and just listen and watch, though I was the one who had broached the topic under discussion. As I was mentally acknowledging his conversational skills (which sometimes abandon me entirely), I realized that this same talent is why the last man to inspire me is so appealing

To keep from embarrassing either of them here, I will not mention names. But gentleman, your affable nature and well honed etiquette charm me whenever you are around. There is truly something impressive in your blend of old school ways with modern sensibility that I cannot help but admire. It matters not whether we are discussing business, delving into political histories, or just indulging in our mutual appreciation for good food and drink, I always enjoy your company.

(Hopefully, they recognize themselves in my reference.)