Watching the Grammy’s is an easy way to keep music relevant.  But a few years ago, when Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion performed WAP, complete with a stripper pole and a big bed, and Sam Smith came in a red dress, I thought I may quit watching. Now, I am far from being a prude; I cuss like a sailor, have lived a women-libbers life, have lots of gay people in my family, and I do understand art is provocative and I appreciate that. But maybe, because of my age, this year’s awards show was getting too raunchy and political for my prime-time music tastes …

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Don’t ask me why, but writing seems to be good for everyone, even for those of us who feel they don’t read or write well. Just the mere exercise of putting your thoughts down on paper is good for one’s mental health and is the reason why, years ago, I started writing my life’s story. At the time, I titled my little autobiography, “Why to Go to College … NOT.”

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I am so tired of the “F” word being overused. I feel like it has been stolen from me. It used to be one of my favorite words; the flair in which I used it was an artform, or so I thought. Like the younger me, this unmentionable word was rebellious, even against the law in public. But, now, it is repeated over and over …

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Everyone laments about all the negative news these days, but you can’t really blame the media. They are only serving up what we humans like to hear. I must admit, when CBS’s Nora O‘Donald starts her feel-good segment at the end of all her Evening News, I get up and leave the room to start dinner.

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Sometimes I feel like I am shouting (my metaphor for writing) into the wind. Therefore, when I get a reply of any kind on my blog, I like it. It is nice to know people are reading my weekly posts, even if the knowing is sometimes coming from a not-so-nice comment or an unsubscribe.

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