The High Cost of High Maintenance

While I can’t be entirely certain of its provenance, the first time I heard the term ‘high maintenance’ was in the movie “When Harry Met Sally.” While watching ‘Casablanca’ Billy Crystal’s character, Harry, claimed that there were two types of women: Ingrid Bergman, who he had decided was ‘low maintenance’ and ‘high maintenance’, like the fussy, quirky complicated Sally. “I just want it like I want it,” comments Sally. “Exactly,” replies Harry. “High maintenance.”

But what is wrong with that? What is maintenance? It’s upkeep. It’s taking care of yourself. Given that women’s workloads and worry loads are increasing both inside and outside of the home, is it unreasonable to expect that a little pampering is their due? Even look upon it as a necessity to keep body, soul, and sanity together. Some pampering, some special treatment, I think is a small trade off for the work women do, often thankless, that keeps the world spinning comfortably for everybody else.

However, while constant professional pampering might be the height of a high maintenance life, it is unlikely that the average woman will ever be able to achieve it. I took a quick survey of my friends, to get an idea of how much pampering would be necessary to satisfy the average woman’s urges. In a month, there would be two manicures, two pedicures, one facial, four massages, two brow-shapings, and two leg waxings. Costs for these services vary pretty widely around the country, but averaged out, you’re looking at about $812 a month, not including tips. Throw in two or three trips to the hair salon in the same time frame and you tack on another $210 to $230. I threw out the figures on clothing and makeup purchases. It would’ve made you cry.

So what does over a thousand dollars a month in personal upkeep signify? For most of us, absolutely nothing. It’s a fantasy, what we might indulge in if there weren’t a mortgage to pay, a child to enroll in computer camp, a Masters or Ph.D. to study for, a company to run, or a charity race to train for. We know we have to take care of ourselves, to be on the ball for everybody else, and we do. But not obsessively, and not to the exclusion of all the other things we are proud of: our work, our families, our causes, our accomplishments. Flawless skin and smooth ankles are great, but we know that the park we helped to build out of an empty lot, the photos of our daughter’s first soccer game, the promotion we worked late for, are all things that will last a lot longer. Most women live our lives in high gear, and that doesn’t leave a lot of resources left over for life in high maintenance.

Kick It Up, and Have a Ball

The new hipster rage is truly a blast from the past. Every former middle school gym klutz can now have a chance to get a little of the glory that was missing from their adolescence by participating in the hot new social sport: kickball. Yes, kickball has been reclaimed, wrested back from the gym bullies you recall and given new panache. There is a World Kickball Association , and strong summer leagues have been springing up like dandelions all across the nation.

Tampa Bay was one of the expansion areas this season, and with a bit of trepidation, I decided to go out for the team. I have gone for organized adult team sports around here before, and figured I was in for more of the usual: great hulking guys, with Popeye biceps, and expensive shades, doing their best imitations of Val Kilmer's "Top Gun" character; a bevy of pert, blonde-ponytailed size-fours, in perfectly clean and pressed shorts sets, who have never broken a sweat in their lives, and me, smiling bravely while being either shut out of play, or viciously screamed at for every little mistake. Both calculated, I'm sure, to make certain I'd never return to the playing fields. It worked.

So I braced myself, and drove down to Interbay Park expecting the worst and getting...a really good time. An open field, a big red rubber ball, some bases, and some very nice people. The games were very casual; everybody was happy to be there, and treated it like a social event, not the World Series. Some of the guys and gals were great athletes, and some, like me, were a bit slow off the bases, but it didn't matter. It was all about fun. Jokes were fired off from all corners of the field, movie quotes flew fast and furious. A tall, funny pitcher for the other team channeled Charlie Brown: "I'm either gonna be the hero or the goat." And the high point of the game for me was watching an opposing team member round all four bases with a cup of beer in hand, and not a spilled drop anywhere. Amazing.

I dropped a couple of passes, got tagged out at third twice, but it didn't matter. We all laughed through five innings, and then packed up and went off in search of cold drinks and curly fries. It is a league, so, of course, a score was kept. But in the end, the only thing that really mattered was who would buy the first round.

Cheap Shots

I got this forwarded to me from a friend, a Philly girl transplanted to Atlanta more than 10 years ago:


'Things you'll never hear in the South'

I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.
Duct tape won't fix that.
We don't keep firearms in this house.
Has anybody seen the sideburns trimmer?
You can't feed that to the dog.
I thought GraceLand was tacky.
No kids in the back of the pickup, it's just not safe.
Wrestling's fake.
Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
We're vegetarians.
Do you think my gut is too big?
I'll have grapefruit and grapes instead of biscuits and gravy.
Honey, we don't need another dog.
Who's Richard Petty?
Give me the small bag of pork rinds.
Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
Spittin' is such a nasty habit.
I just couldn't find a thing at Wal-Mart today.
Trim the fat off that steak.
Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
The tires on that truck are too big.
I've got it all on the C:\ drive.
Unsweetened tea tastes better.
Would you like your salmon poached or broiled?
My fiancé, Bobbie Jo, is registered at Tiffany's.
I've got two cases of Zima for the Super Bowl.
Little Debbie snack cakes have too many fat grams.
Checkmate!
She's too young to be wearing a bikini.
Nope, no more for me. I'm drivin' tonight.

Okay, yes I laughed...a lot. But on the other hand, most of the really smart people I know are from the South, I grew up on chess, and I haven't been in a home that had deer heads on the wall in my whole life. And by the way, you'll never find a higher concentration of cars with Northern tags than at the Super Wal-Mart on a Saturday afternoon. Why is it that we never see a joke list about Northerners?

'Things you'll never hear up North'

Please.
Thank you.
Can I give you a hand with that?
My, what a lovely day.
Wow, the air here is so fresh.

Care to add to the list? Email me at jayc_33618 at yahoo dot com.

Guilty Pleasures

Whoever coined that phrase should be beaten senseless with a pint of Haagen Daz.

Why should we feel guilty about the things that bring us joy? Considering how much aggravation we have in our daily lives, I think finding anything that brings us pleasure, no matter how old-fashionedly corny or tragically unhip it may seem to the hipster crowd, should be priority one. We should be proud or our 'guilty pleasures', be delighted to have found them, and we should revel in them as often as possible.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go eat a pint of Macadamia Nut Brittle, while I watch 'She Spies."

Happy holiday!

Ah, Independence Day! Freedom, fireworks, and the day off from work. Fresh-squeezed, real lemonade in a glass pitcher, apple pie, cool sweet melon. Brats and ribs smoking over hot coals. A little more mustard?...why thank you! Another scoop of ice cream?...well, if you insist. Aunt Fern's triple layer strawberry cake?...don't mind if I do!

Ah, the sweet taste of liberty. (Anybody got a Tums? [burp!] )

Save Martha!

"Federal authorities have informed Martha Stewart's lawyers she will be indicted for her role in the ImClone insider trading scandal. Good news for Martha — stripes are back in this year." —Craig Kilborn

Yes, the Martha Stewart jokes have been flying fast and furious in the past few weeks, as the home economics doyenne prepares to defend herself in court. Everybody from Leno to Jon Stewart (no relation) has been taking their potshots at the woman, who, long accustomed to adoration, has found that as Holly Golightly so elegantly put it, 'there are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl's complexion.' Not to mention put a crimp in her ratings.

Is Martha an inside trader? The victim of an unfortunate coincidence combined with an inhospitable public image for CEOs in general? Well, I am always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. But that is beside the point. I think it is time to lay off Martha because what she has given to the culture is worth more than what she might have made out of any inside trade.

Martha's magazine pushed us to believe that gracious living is still possible in a world where most of us answer instant messages while we exhort the microwave to hurry up and cook that frozen burrito. Martha publishes creamy, delicious, full-color spreads of fabulous meals and impeccable interior design and then instructions on how to duplicate the results. She explains thread counts and the difference between sea salt and kosher salt, and how to iron a shirt and a thousand other things our mothers would have taught us, if they could have gotten us to listen. Of course, no sane woman even begins to believe that she can do it all like Martha. Martha has staff, no small children and by all reports, can get by on four to five hours of sleep per night. But there is inspiration here. Our imagination is caught up in this fantasy, and maybe if we can get one chocolate soufflé to rise, organize one small closet in the house, arrange one perfect vase of flowers, somehow our world is better than it was.

Martha shows us the perfect tool kit, and suddenly women who have never changed a light bulb before, are venturing into Home Depot, and finding out they can fix their own damn leaks. When MSO went public, the stock market became of interest to her followers; instead of just balancing the family checkbook anymore, a few women started investment portfolios. Martha made 'housework' into 'homekeeping', and then reiterated to women that everything in the world is their domain.

Martha has earned a reputation for being, pushy, demanding, exacting, in other words, a bitch. So what? Most successful women who attain any measure of power will have that appellation attached to them by someone. It does not diminish the effect that Martha has had on women overall. Love her or hate her, Martha Stewart has elevated the idea of homekeeping to an art form, a means of creative expression. She has gotten women to think, ‘I can' rather than 'Honey-Do.’ And while any of my friends who drop in unexpectedly will still have to push the newspaper off the couch to sit on it, the snacks they will get served at my house come with cloth napkins.

Fast Food!

I think a well-stocked pantry is the key to a good meal without a trip to the drive-through window. You just need to expand your idea of staples. Buy more dried herbs and spices, and packs of frozen veggies. Stock up on a few items from ethnic shops. Lay in a supply of starches, like rice, pasta, and my favorite, couscous. Throw them together in interesting combos, and you can be gnoshing on the couch faster than you can say 'Double Whopper, hold the onions, extra pickles.'


My fast food fave is cold soba noodles. This is a recipe you can throw together in 10 minutes, it is tasty, and there's enough left over for the next day's lunch.

Bring a big pan of water and salt to boil. While you wait, into a large bowl, stir together 4 tbls of soy sauce, 2 tsp of rice vinegar, juice of one lime, 2 tsp of light sesame oil. Grate in a bit of ginger, and scissor in 3 green onions. Into the boiling water, drop 8oz of soba noodles,and boil for about 5 minutes. Put a bowl of ice water near the sink. After the noodles are done, drain them and plunge them into the ice water. Drain them again, put them into the bowl with the sauce and toss them. Shake in some sesame seeds for crunch, and toss again. Then, eat. A lot.

You can throw just about anything into these noodles to make more of a meal. Cold cooked chicken, shrimp, mushrooms, chopped celery, roughy chopped lettuce, parsely, or any green herb. But I like them plain, just as they come. YUM!