The JH Lifecoach Service for Seniors is now open

This week I realized that I may have found my niche in life. I discovered this by watching the news. There is definitely a segment of the population that needs my help.

That is why I am starting a life coach service for people over fifty and under one hundred. This will qualify Larry King and Andy Rooney for my services.

At least you guys get a couple of years out of this service.

The services I will be providing will help you with your transition.

A few words about personal appearance. The fact is: You are now over 50 and you are expected to dress a certain way.

Some tips:

• You can now part your hair in the middle.
• comb overs are no longer frowned upon.
• stop trimming your eyebrows.
• When wearing black pants, wear brown shoes
• wear short white sox.
• If your pant inseam was 36 before you reached 50, after 50 have them shortened to 32. Your body will shrink into as you age. Be prepared. You will "grow" into them. Maybe.
• It is now acceptable for you to walk around with your fly open.
• When you buy trousers make sure the belt line comes within 2 inches of your nipples.
• Suspenders are not only acceptable but encouraged.
• You will not really need to comb your hair any more. If you decide to comb it you can use Brycreem or Vitalis. Nothing else is acceptable.
• Personal scents: Mennon skin bracer, Aqua Velva or pee is acceptable.
• Teeth (optional)

One of the first lessons you must learn when you get to this stage is never let anyone know how healthy you really are. When you come back from your yearly physical and someone has the nerve to ask how it went, just say, " The Doctor found nothing." Then limp away slowly, mumbling about "Quacks" and cough slightly, pound your chest softly, bend over and put your hand on a railing, car, chair to steady yourself.

When checking out at any store of any kind (even toy stores) ask with pleading eyes, "Do you have senior citizen discount?"

When confronted by obnoxious clerk/wait staff at a store or eatery, I say, " I can do a back flip. Would you like to see it?" That is my store approach.

When out on the street I put my hat on the ground and play my harmonica. Many people have paid me to stop. It works great at the beach. It works even better with a saxophone.

Well, This is a start isn't it? I will be getting back to you with more great tips such as:

How to use denture cream as a useful tool. (It is kinda like the WD40 for people over 50.)

Since this probably your first attempt at growing old, these hints should be very helpful.

Stay tuned!!!

The Class Reunion

Do I need to see these people?

We are moving soon.....again. It is a habit my wife picked up in Montreal. It is a July ritual in Quebec. It is very much like musical chairs. The Quebecois are strange. Very strange. My wife thinks that we are legally required to move every year. I have her trained to the point where she can make it almost 18 months before she starts looking for a new residence. The last time we moved, I told her to put me into a drug induced coma and wake me when the move is over.

Sadly, We cannot afford the drug induced coma because of closing and moving expenses.

Is this a paradox or a dilemma? ....or a paradoxical dilemma?

This brings me to "The class reunion".

Typically when people move they try to get rid of useless clutter and stuff. While decluttering I found my yearbook. I started looking through it. I came to the realization that it had been fifty years since I graduated from high school.

Fifty years????....!!!! Anniversary!!!!

Time for a reunion. I will start getting the data together. Names, addresses, a place to meet.

Meeting place: Most of the places have either been burned down to get the insurance money or fallen down because they were abandon due to strict drinking laws in New York State. Not many places available.

The Classmates: I will review my classmate list. We only had about 50 grads that year.

This was before they consolidated school districts. (Centralization)

What I remember about these people:

Leonard " Beaver" Bacon had 2 huge teeth in front. Somewhat reminiscent of Bugs Bunny. I never dared lend him a Dixon Ticonderoga #2 pencil. I was afraid he would eat it.

Herman Shepard and Cecelie Sorenson were the class "gay" people. We didn't know it. I am not sure if they knew it. I know Herman tried to hetero in high school. It didn't take. Years later he accepted the fact that he was gay. Cecilie was more of a mystery. She never had any dates in high school. She was not very attractive. She "came out" much later.

In high school I had a friend Richard, who was gay. Nobody really hassled Richard about it. He was more or less accepted, but nobody really wanted him in their cliche.

The deal was: If six of us guys (including Richard) went out drinking in the woods and we all had to pee at the same time, no one would have been surprised if Richard squatted to pee. It might creep us out a little.

Finnegan "Finn" James was the starchy, studious scholar of the class. He went to engineering school after graduation.

He rushed home the first week of class to tell everyone that farts burn and he organized a fart burners club.

apparently if you felt impending flatulence you were to ring a gong, run to the designated fart burners room, grab the zippo, place the zippo in position,turn out the lights and do your presentation. After it was over it would be rated for brightness, length of time, and anything else that engineering students thought would be an important factor. This is what his parents paid big money for.

Dara "The Derelict" Troutman was the class(shall we say) fun person. She got the name "Derelict" for passing out drunk at the Junior prom. This was stuff legends are made of. She was on the Prom Court. Actually she wasn't on the prom court. She was in the back seat of Leonard Kozloski's 1955 Ford Fairlaine... passed out....with her Prom dress somewhat askew. She did not make it back that evening.

Dara also got smashed on the senior trip to New York City. She was carried around Manhattan for two straight days.

She sobered up and now has a fine career as a Bartender. She can be seen wearing a T-shirt that says, "Boink me!!!"

Celestine Crenloe had some kind of skin problem. I now suspect it was something like psoriasis. It was not attractive. No matter....everyone called her "The Fish". Why?

She had scales. Kids can be cruel. I cringe when I think about it. Wow! Poor kid.

Stanaslaus Lopez is the name. Yes, It is a little strange. A Polish and Spanish name.

This was a mining town. Numerous men were killed in the mines. there were many widows. Sometimes these widows would find a new man. If she was Polish and he was Spanish, they would have a nice Catholic ceremony and have kids with strange names like Cosmo Lopez, Stanaslaus Lopez, and Bladis Lopez.

Walter Kozloski Jr. was an athlete. I have never seen someone with so much dexterity and creativity. He developed numerous new methods to cheat. I once observed him on a test. He had numerous systems and back up systems for cheating.

I observed him fanning through a history book with his feet, looking for answers. The History book was on the floor and he was turning pages with his toes. He usually wore penny loafers. He also did the invisible ink thing with lemon. His test usually smelled lemony fresh. He had notes everywhere. It was an awesome spectacle to watch. He never got caught. He didn't need to do this. He was smart enough. He just liked the game.

The last time I saw Walter was at the racetrack. Yes, Walter had a good day at the track. He prefers to be called Judge Kozloski now. This seems to be a reasonable request since he is an appellate court judge.

The more I go down the list the more I want to stay home. We had other interesting people like Hannah "The Mirror" Harrah, Orlo "Porky" Bacon, Jack "Hambone" Hamilton, Desdamona Cameltoe, Clarissa clitorless to name a few.

I don't believe I will travel 900 miles to have someone walk up to me and say, "and who are you?" or "Bring me another drink, Waiter."

"Yes, Dara!!"

Note: **The deal breaker***the woman pictured at the top was the same woman I had a crush on all through high school. She sent me her pix. I will not be going to the reunion. I will be doing a vascectomy on my self that day.

The birthing of John McCain.

The fickle finger of fate intercedes!

In what can only be described as an ironic twist of fate, it has been found that John McCain, recent presidential candidate was actually born in Panama.

This discovery was made by the newly formed Coffee party. The "caffienist", as they prefer to be called, researched this thoroughly and found very little. They did find a few disjointed facts that does support their theory.

With a brillo pad size bit of imformation, they have knitted themselves a Humvee of a theory.

McCain was not born in the United States. This is a fact.

It is said that he was born in the Panama Canal Zone which was a protected territory of the U.S in 1936.

However, the coffee party has a witness that states that Mrs. McCain was partying heavily in the nearby town of San Jose Emelio Estevez with her husband, "Big Jack".

She gave birth to a boy named John in the home of Juanita Hernandez, which is outside the "Canal Zone".

This wasn't deemed a problem until "Big Jack" realized this could become a future problem. What if he wants to be President someday? "Big Jack" got busy.

"We will have some guy make a fake copy of the birth certificate." "Big Jack" stated.

"Why don't you just photoshop a birth certificate?" queried Mrs. McCain. "Big Jack's answer was, "It won't be invented for another 40 years, at least."

The Caffienist have this documented. It was also noted that it said....Certificate of Birth instead of Birth Certificate. It also looks like the name was written....Juan Gomez McCain, which clouds the issue even further.

As the Caffienist researched they became more alarmed.

They discovered:

During the Vietnamese war, John or Juan spent many years in a Prison camp. It is believed that Juan or John was "re-educated". The research will show that he is now referred to in the espionage business as a "mole".

The Cafe guys have a list of 51 North Vietnamese who will verify to this fact that he is a "mole". They have a list. We know about list. Joe McCarthy always had a bunch of them.

It has also been noted that Juan may have converted to Muslim. People who have been to his home said that he had muslim towels and a Persian rug.

"Explain that, Juan!!!!"

I must say that the Obama plan to surreptitiously get himself elected as president was a much better plan. Elaborate yet almost mistake free. It is quite a tricky thing to be born in Kenya and have your birth announcement in Honolulu the next day. the paperwork was well done. It was well set up. Now you only have to wait about 50 years and have the Kenyan muslim run for president. The rest is a piece of cake.

Bulletin: The cat’s out of the bag- President Obama is clearly bowing to this child.Just where do his loyalties lie? To the American people? Or to five-year-olds?

What? McCain lost?

Perhaps I should move on.....

Never mind.

My unscheduled naps and kicking the bucket.

"HE'S DOWN AGAIN!!!!"

I visited the doctor Monday. I had to get a cortisone shot. The doctor asked me if I was a fainter. I quickly said "No!!!" Almost as quickly my wife said, "Yes!!!!"

Luckily she was there. I tend to forget things like that.

In recent years I've had a tendency to take what will now be referred to as unscheduled naps. I never know what will cause it. These are usually associated with some type of discomfort, usually pain. I've had a few close calls. I don't always faint; I get wobbly.

I know I am in big trouble when the picture screen in my head starts shrinking and people close to me sound like they are far away. Then it is time to find a spot to land.

I don't want too much ricochet. "kerplunk!! I'm down!!!

Luckily, this happened at work. I did not find a place to land, and one of my fellow employees caught me before I hit the ground. Fortunately another employee was an EMT.

He had everything under control. He said, "What happened?" I answered by saying, " I don't know, I just got here myself." He answered back, "You had us worried. You didn't have a pulse." My answer was, "I assume that I do now. I'm fine." and I was, but since it happened at work I got carted away in an ambulance. My first ambulance ride. My first trip to the emergency room. Nice emergency room. They released me in a few hours.

My wife made the trip from her work to the emergency room (about 40 miles) in about 3 minutes, no tickets. Wow! Not 3 minutes but fast. She doesn't even know how she found the place.

I was told I had a vagal reaction. My wife said, "A Vaginal reaction?" We got that straightened out.

When I first met my wife I had a couple of episodes of "unscheduled naps". I would get cramps in my legs that were very painful. It would cause me to faint. This happened a few times and after a while I could sense when they were coming and I had a few things I would do to avoid it. If it didn't work I would go with the flow. I would snap out of it quickly. This cramp fainting has not happened in 10 years.

I 've had the Norovirus twice. It is nasty. It has caused me to faint both times. The bad part is not so much the fainting. It is the fainting while your vomiting and have diahrrea all the same moment. I quite literally "Kicked the bucket" when I fainted, fell off the toilet, kicked over the "unempty" bucket in front of me. It was not pretty. My wife had it also. Same results.

I NEVER DID THAT!!!

Not yet!

I am doing much better now. I haven't fainted in many days. I get a little wobbly occasionally.

Most people just say, "ouch!! That hurts!!!" I just take an unscheduled nap to get rid of the discomfort. I prefer that the incidents do not occur at Walmart or Home Depot.

The front lawn is ok.

The French Chef!!!!

A lesson in French Canadian Cuisine.

Bonjour bloggers and fans of french food!!!

Note: I only know two French words: Bonjour and Je taime. It works for me!

You will not learn any new recipes here. This is more about my wife (who will henceforth be known as the little French Lady) and me (who has been called many things but nothing that refers to French or cooking).

It really has to do with our philosophical differences. She has a keen sense of taste and smell and is very particular about how the fragrance (or when I cook, stench) strikes her palate and nasal passages.

My first experience was with Creton. My wife told me about it. I went to restaurant in

Greenfield Park, Quebec, across the river from Montreal. They serve Creton for breakfast. My wife says, "Aren't you going to eat that Creton?" My reply was," I am not eating that lard ball." It looked like something that was scraped out of a Crisco can after being reused for a week. I am not a fussy eater but I wouldn't touch that with a cattle prod.

To make a short story long I finally did eat it. I love it. It is really quiet tasty. It must have something to do with the fermentation in the crisco can.

(lard ball pix above...I mean Creton).

My wife's first adventure with my American cooking had to do with instant mashed potatoes. She once used instant mash potatoes in her youth and found them to be gritty, runny and kind of funky.

Early in our courtship I decided that I would cook some Shepard's pie. I told her how I prepare it. I would be using instant mashed potatoes. Her heart sunk. She knew our relationship would sadly be over soon due to philosophical differences about mashed potatoes.

She liked me so much that she gave it a try.

Our tenth anniversary will be in 11 days. I think I will cook some Shepard's pie with instant mash potatoes.

she is a brave soul. She likes my cooking. I like her cooking. She likes to experiment sometimes.

This can sometimes get a little weird. She has not offered to deep fry me a peanut butter sandwich garnished and Rosemarie and Lavender yet. It's coming. I just feel it. She just likes to experiment with her recipes. There has been very few times where we sampled one of her or my creations, looked at each other and wordlessly walked to the toilet and poured it in.

Our taste buds are very different. She likes tart food. I lean towards sweet. I think it is the only taste sense I have left.

I really believe I would eat a dead skunk with a side of day old cat poop (not fresh).

She would test me like that.

She would ask me how did it taste. I would say, "The skunk was pretty tender, the cat poop was a little too fresh but the chocolate syrup made it work. The curdled milk wasn't too chunky."

I rate it a b+.

There is one thing that really confuzzles me. My wife uses 4 knives to make a bowl of soup and a sandwich. Is it just a woman thing or does she know she can multitask with a knife?

Maybe she read to many manners books. They always use 4 forks, five different size spoons, a few knives. I just put the knife in my mouth, lick off the peanut butter or whatever and put it back in the drawer. Please don't tell her.

Bottom line: She is a great cook. The Little French Lady. Je taime!!!