A Funny Way to Live Longer

If I don’t laugh I’ll cry. We’ve all heard that expression. Ha! If I don’t laugh I’ll maim Maury. I didn’t say kill because that could land me in prison with an angry Bubbie with pencil-thin eyebrows and her girlfriends. I just want him to remember to close doors, turn off lights and put the kosher pickles back in the refrigerator. He totally stressed me out this week when he left early for work and left the front door wide open after he brought in the newspaper. Now I admit that our headlines are more distracting than other places because more than half the people running for public office in this election cycle don’t believe in global warming. However, it’s no excuse to leave me sleeping and inviting anyone who walks by to come in and visit. Yes, we always have cold beers available but I’m not wont to share them with strangers.

When I confronted him with his gross security negligence,  Maury said I shouldn’t take things so seriously because nothing happened since our neighbors or anyone else driving by knows there’s a harridan living at our address and that I needed to read the latest Norwegian study that tracked 70,000 people and found the ones who scored highest on the sense-of humor scale, live longer.

“Oh yeah? How do they test sense of humor? By having you tell them a doctor joke?” was my smart retort.

“No. Laughing relaxes the endothelium, the fragile lining of your arteries, to boost blood flow by 15 percent. It also melts stress and reduces cortisol, which I can see you sorely need.”

“And now you’re going to tell me that leaving the door open, searching for eyeglasses and keys and forgetting appointments is a good thing?”

“Jean, I’m just saying that you need to see the humor in your life.”

Right. While he creates hurricanes in my life.

High End Camping for the Scottsdale Crowd

Even Glee is feeling the effects of this economy. But I have to say she’s creative. Now April, who never has to worry because her husband Steve is a personal injury attorney and there are a plethora of people with low IQs here–I know this because we had to pass a “Stupid Motorist” law so people who drive through raging rivers and have to be rescued will be responsible–would rather stay home than go camping.

But not Glee. She went glamping recently with her new boyfriend who is also a life coach. In case you’re not familiar with the newest craze it’s camping, Scottsdale style. But for sports figures who cannot figure out what they’re going to do with huge amounts of money when their careers end prematurely or the affluent who realize they have to follow a budget, here’s a vacation idea! Glee and her honey drove to the High Country for a camping trip that included special air mattresses, champagne, gourmet food baskets, a trendy teepee instead of a leaky tent, portable toilets and mobile phone chargers. I didn’t mention the 500 count linens and place mats yet, did I?

“That’s not camping. That’s a luxury event at the Princess Hotel only outside,” I told her when she explained what glamping was.

“Jean, you have no idea how bonding with nature de-stresses the soul. Efraim and I felt so rejuvenated after a weekend of cutting our carbon footprint.”

“How much trash did you leave behind?”

“The glamping organizers dispose of all garbage by hauling it back to the Valley.”

“There are organizers?”

“Of course. You don’t think I could pack up all that stuff myself, do you?”

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