6

Men are always giving women a hard time about how many pairs of shoes we own.  But throughout history, shoes – well, footwear in general – have been very important to both genders...

Sometimes it's fun to be a tourist in your own town.  And in my town, we have a shoe museum.  The term 'shoe museum' immediately raises the thought, 'nothing could be more boring.'  But actually, I picked up some interesting factoids.  (There were some boring parts, but I moved through them quickly.  Like the section with 40 or 50 pairs of beaded moccasins – very pretty and obviously requiring a tremendous amount of skill to make.  But they all kind of looked the same to me.)

My first trip to the Bata Shoe Museum (and this place did make it onto an episode of The Amazing Race!) started off like this:

 

 

Running around the perimeter of the room were shoes from ancient cultures, shoes for work, play, special events, and shoes that were clearly good for only two activities – sitting down or torture.

 

What's really odd about high societal shoes made and worn pre-19^th century is how tiny they were.  Most of them don't look wider than a couple of inches, if that.  And they didn't have left and right shoes – you just jammed whichever foot into the closest shoe.

 

 

 

 

Aren't these pretty?

Ha ha - they're men's shoes!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But so are these (actually they're Elton John's, but technically, still men's). 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wasn't sure whether to mention these (sorry, still in the men's section...) 

 

Did you know that shoemaking was the very first unionized trade?  (Thanks a lot, cobblers.)

 

The top floor of the museum was dedicated to a fun exhibit.

Once upon a time, garments and shoes were given their beautiful colours and forms using poisons, like arsenic and mercury.  The well-off looked very elegant – until they dropped dead or went nuts.  And the poor – they worked in sweatshop conditions for practically nothing, until they started suffering ill effects from the poisons they were exposed to daily.



  




And everybody knows about these, right?

For women of means, they were pretty much mandatory.  The cage supported their giant hoop skirts (and prevented them from drawing those pesky deep breaths).  Unfortunately, women's clothing and a lack of electricity did not mix well.  If your dress touched an open flame, you became a human torch.   Air trapped below the cage fed the flames.  Between 1850 and 1860, about 3,000 women per year died this way.  And that's just in the United Kingdom! 


I look at some young people these days, wearing outfits I can't believe they left house looking like that.  But maybe we shouldn't criticize them too much.   (Although please stop wearing pants 8 sizes too big, so the crotch is level with your knees.  You don't look cool.  You look stupid.)

 

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

Ever seen an empty coffee cup/pop can/juice bottle sitting on top of a newspaper box?  (Or any other public place within a reasonable distance of a garbage can, yet not actually in the garbage can?).  This tells you something about the person who left the item there.  It says they're lazy and selfish and need a slap upside the head.  If you're ever with someone who does that, please do us all a favour (including the lazy slob) and deliver the slap.

5

It's not personal.  It's just business...

Can you believe that I had never watched "The Godfather"?  It was released back in 1972.  I was 7, so it's taken me 43 years.  (I'm a bit scared to admit that publicly – what if it qualifies me to be whacked?)  I suppose I'd better not wait another 43 years to see the sequel.

The movie showed up on TCM, so I PVR'd it, and finally watched it this weekend (on Sunday, after church – if I'm going to watch all that violence and debauchery, better ask for forgiveness first).

Great casting, some great performances, and yes, some truly memorable quotes.  It's certainly compelling to watch – and stress free.  There's no pressure whatsoever to like any of these people, or feel sorry for someone who gets a bullet through the eye or garrotted.   I especially loathe the women, who go so amazingly far beyond being doormats.  Diane Keaton's character has not one shred of self-respect.  The abused daughter, Connie – ditto.

What exactly is it that causes Michael Corleone's character to arc 180° from 'my family is a bunch a mobsters but not me,' to 'please pick me to go the restaurant and plug two guys in the head'?  I have no idea.

Maybe this movie just isn't standing the test of time for me.  Maybe it's a guy thing.  But for those who see it as a masterpiece forevermore, enjoy (just don't imitate). 

One thing's for sure.  Now I understand a lot more about the movie "You've Got Mail."

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

If someone has a university degree, it does not guarantee intelligence.  It only proves they found a way to pay tuition.  And if you don't have a degree, someone who does have one is definitely not necessarily smarter than you.  A beloved friend of mine, who actually is one of the smartest people I know – B.A., MBA, Chartered Accountant, Attorney – is not immune to an occasional cranial power outage.  She once asked me to let her know if I spotted a drinking fountain anywhere, as we headed toward the luggage carousel, and a well-deserved vacation.  We had just arrived in Mexico.

 

And take the case (literally) of a federal judge I read about back in 2012 who heard the claim of 5 inmates (a selection of murderers, thieves and rapists) at the Saskatchewan Penitentiary who decided to sue the federal government for negligence because being in jail made them unhappy.  Feelings of "hopelessness," "nervous shock," incessant, subtle anger over being unable to make fundamental and critical life choices."  Come on, is this a Monty Python skit?  I don't know what eventually happened with this, but it's a claim that should have been thrown out in under a nanosecond.  I will go out on a fairly sturdy limb here and suggest that the judge in this case was a well-educated person.   Yet he did not dismiss the case – he stayed it for 6 months.  What a complete and total moron.

4

Apparently, the experts are wrong.  There is not always room for Jell-O^(TM).

I believe we have already established that I am not exactly a whiz in the kitchen.  But one thing I'm always willing to attempt is desserts.  Even if I completely botch it, the main ingredient is sugar.  How bad could it be?

I usually keep it fairly simple.   And layer cakes seem like a lot of work, so I've never made one.  Until today.  I resigned myself in advance to the fact that my results would not look like the picture.  That way, I avoid disappointment.  Here's what I ripped out of a magazine:

See the pretty colours?  That's where the Jell-O comes in.  I changed the blueberry to grape, the orange to lemon, and the raspberry to strawberry.  Other than that, I followed the instructions closely.

As usual, the stated preparation time is a complete lie.  (As far as I'm concerned.)  But who cares?  If I'm going to do this, I might as well choose a recipe with at least a 9.5 degree of difficulty.  Especially considering that I needed 4 round cake pans.  I only have 2, so I borrowed 2 more from the BFF, and it turns out that our pans are slightly different sizes.  I had to cut around the edge of 2 of the layers to make them the same size.  (Icing hides a multitude of sins...)

 

 

 

       Okay, time for the results.

 

This thing is close to 9 inches high!  (But no egg yolks, so completely healthy, right?)  I took the picture, and then immediately started to dismantle it for storage.  The recipe says it serves 24.  24 what?  Military divisions?  Sessions of Parliament? 

Don't ask me what it tastes like.  I haven't tried it.  I'm working up the courage...

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

 

If you ever find yourself worried that your employer is having financial difficulties and that they might lay you off, be sure of two things.  They are, and they will.  If you are dependent on your job to pay your bills, can you really afford to believe anything else?  I learned this the hard way – two jobs in a row.  Don't wait around for the axe to drop.  Get your CV in order, pick up any additional education you need to be marketable, and discretely put yourself on the market.  Contact everyone you know and advise them you are looking for your next opportunity.  But do not tell anyone at the office that you're looking, or why you're looking.  (I.e. don't create competition for yourself.)  And don't give your employer any excuse to decide, "well, he/she has figured it out; since they're not going to be shocked, why put off what we intend to do anyway? Let's just let him/her go now."  Better it should be your decision when you leave, than theirs.

 

3

I debated whether to go ahead with this week's entry.  With the recent (as of this writing) devastating tragedy in Roseburg, Oregon, I wondered if it was in poor taste.  But after asking the opinions of several friends and acquaintances, I will carry on. I won't give the bad guy any further power, or concede to any degree that my experience could be at all related to someone else's complete lack of personal responsibility, possibly due to some deep psychological problems.  Whatever the facts of this incident are, I extend my deepest sympathies to the families and friends of those who perished at Umpqua Community College.  I hope the President is wrong, that we have not all become numb to events such as this...

 

3.

One might not have expected this from me.  Seriously?  Firing a gun?  "How pedestrian - isn't that on everyone's bucket list?"  After all, didn't I state very clearly in my blog intro that I would not include parachuting among my 50:50  experiences?  Wasn't that really because jumping out of an airplane is just too trite; "isn't that also on everyone's list", etc.?  No, that was not my reasoning.  My reasoning was much simpler – it's a good way not to make it to 51.

I suppose one could argue that hanging around a bunch of strangers using weapons loaded with live ammunition could also be a good way to get myself killed.  But at least the fall is a lot shorter.

I got up at stupid-o'clock on Saturday morning to drive an hour out of town to a gun club, where they offer an introductory course on firearms.  After a short classroom session, it was off to the range.  I had the opportunity to fire 7 different weapons – 4 pistols (including automatic, semi-automatic and a single-action Colt revolver), a semi-Uzi, a traditional levered rifle (yes, just like the ones you see in any old Western movie), and a bolt-action 12-gauge rifle.   Sensibly, we started with pistols loaded with .22's, working our way up to the most powerful weapon.   The most challenging for me, due to its weight, was the .357, mounted with a scope.  Holding that one straight out in front of me, my hands had difficulty supporting it; I was shaking a bit.  But by the end of the course, I had managed to hit my cardboard target several times, eventually blasting it right off the target stand, and bringing it home with me.

It is difficult to describe the physical feeling that occurs just after squeezing the trigger – the power.  It's like an explosion in your hands.  It forces the body slightly backward, but there's never so much recoil that you fall down.  (The instructor stands behind you for every shot, so no danger of that anyway.)

I never felt particularly scared, in the presence of so many guns going off.  I suppose because of the very strict rules that are followed, and enforced by the Range Officer.  Rules that were clearly respected by every single person there.  These were responsible gun owners, who come to their club to shoot only at targets, and then get together for some fellowship at the clubhouse. 

But the power of a gun is a serious thing, and I handled each weapon very carefully.  I met some friendly people, and enjoyed my time there immensely.  Would I do it again?  Well – if someone I knew wanted to try it, and asked me to go with them, I suppose so.  Other than that, I'm quite satisfied to have this be a one-time thing.  I just wanted to know what it feels like. 

 

 

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

Good advice from a late friend of mine: Give a new book 100 pages (whether it's actual paper, or electronic) to grab your interest.  If a book can't do that after 100 pages, don't force yourself to finish it, even if it's a 'classic.'  Life is too short to spend your time reading about people and places that you just don't care about.  I barely made it past page 75 of "Bonfire of the Vanities."  I was bored out of my mind (many apologies to the author).  No wonder the movie sucked.

This advice obviously doesn't apply if one is school-aged, and having a book forced upon you as part of the curriculum.  Binge-read if you have to, and get it over with.  We all had to read "Catcher in the Rye;" deal with it.