Posting this here because a promo I’d recently set up listed this site (my blog) instead of my author site, annaikens.com. Apologies if you’ve seen this already!!
See my author site for a list of where to buy on online and in Vermont shops. Or you can always email me at author@annaikens.com and I’ll send ya an inscribed copy.
My reviewers on Amazon are all ages and genders – so check that page and decide?
My greatest LERV to all READERS! I’d love to hear your take on my book if you’ve read!
My Thanksgiving column had to be re-written because it didn’t make it into the paper. This starts differently and has minor improvements IMHO. Posted for posterity!
The Holiday Express pulled out of the station in September (Labor Day, Yom Kippur, International Talk Like a Pirate Day, World Beard Day), then chugged through October (Halloween, Samhain, National Name Your Car Day – I’m not making these up), and has now pulled out of the November station (Veterans Day, National Vinegar Day, Thanksgiving).
While some of us have had low-key Thanksgivings in recent years, some enjoyed wild ones. I envy your big-group noise and merrymaking and even the fighting. It makes me wicked nostalgic. A quiet Christmas I don’t mind, but Thanksgiving is supposed to be full of joyful hoots as people walk through the door, with lots of chaos and exploding casseroles.
A friend lamented when his daughter left for college, “Where did 20 years go?” For me it is, at this time of year: where did those beloved people go, those sacred homes, those raucous laughs of holidays past? Those kids all growed up. We all growed up. Sigh. Do you ever wish you were a kid again? Our elders, so many of them now frail or gone, back in charge?
I looked up “nostalgia” and found the craziest assortment of definitions, ranging from “a sad longing” to, for real, “mental illness.” The latter does make sense. Because if you wallow in a sad longing for the past long enough, you are probably 1. Ignoring the bad things about those times, 2. Experiencing mental anguish, and 3. No longer living your life.
An odd detour in an alleged humor column, I realize. Stay with me.
Alas, many best-loved beings have left the building. Favorite musicians, actors, friends, lovers, pets, family, neighbors. The world seems a giant mess. While nostalgia implies a glossing over of history, I feel that my own generation’s past was, in fact, lovelier – before the major disasters (you know the names) that imperiled our overall sense of safety and trust in humans, no matter where we live. At least in the US, by and large, life was easier back then. We just didn’t know it. The oceans, lands, air, and wildlife now at risk. Homeless tent cities common. And there is so much hate now. Or else we see more hate, due to the devil that is 24-hour news on TV and other screens. I say, some nostalgia is legit.
In our messed-up powder keg of a world, it’s difficult to remain hopeful or sane. Especially as it seems there’s little be done about much of it, by us ordinary people anyway, aside from writing checks and voting. It’s distressing.
But I have discovered this: that making an effort to feel good can actually pay off. It’s not easy sometimes, but worth the attempt. I went to see a magical band at Chandler, helped collect gifts for kids, and baked for a dear friend. I went back to choir. Do you know that singing in groups (even small) increases your oxytocin and other good brain chemicals? Head to a tiled bathroom for some doo-wop harmonizing with your housemate(s).
When you feel good, you feel somehow … loved. And conversely, when you feel loved, you feel good. If you’ll allow me to wax Cosmic here: feeling good allows great amounts of what some call the Life Force to flow through you. This makes you healthier physically and emotionally. This makes you better able to navigate illness and difficult situations. Energized. Motivated. Resilient. So feel good if it kills you. Hang out with people that make you feel loved and loving. Okay, maybe for now you’d rather lie around feeling like holy hell. Go right ahead, but don’t do it for long. It’ll make you sick.
Like many of you, I always dug Thanksgiving because my mommy put on such a good one and because it’s non-denominational. We’d host people who had nowhere to go, much as my loud family’s antics were no doubt technically embarrassing. The guests didn’t seem to mind. We all laughed and laughed. I miss every single person in those blurry old Instamatic photos, whether they moved away or died or just grew up. In recent years, I’m the person with nowhere to go for holidays. Someone always invites me in.
In an effort to feel good, and in so doing make others feel good, this Thanksgiving I endeavored to focus more on who’s here than on who’s not. I’m carrying that to each remaining stop on the Holiday Express.
What I suggest this holiday season to you and me both is this: really marinate in communal happiness. No matter how small or random your group, no matter how holidays of years past appear happier in your mind, feel the love right where you are. When at the table, honoring the memory of beings we adored who are now gone, really savor those that are here. Right here. Love the one(s) you’re with. And if you just can’t deal at all this year, get into your berth solo in the Sleeper Car. It’ll be over before you know it.
Feel good. Spread love. Bring leftovers to someone left out. Or invite them in? Good day.
Ann Aikens’ darkly comical, uplifting book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, is available at Amazon & Vermont shops. She has written her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find shops at annaikens.com; sign up for her blog at lower right at uppervalleygirl.com.
While some of us are having rather low-key Thanksgivings in recent years, some of you are enjoying wild ones. I envy your big-group noise and merrymaking and even the fighting. It makes me wicked nostalgic.
A friend lamented when his daughter left for college, “Where did 20 years go?” For me it is, at this time of year: where did those beloved people go, those sacred homes, those raucous laughs of Thanksgivings past? Those kids all growed up. We all growed up. Sigh. Do you ever wish you were a kid again? Those older people (now frail or gone) still in charge?
I looked up “nostalgia” and found the craziest assortment of definitions, ranging from things along the lines of “a sad longing” to, for real, “mental illness.” Sounds melodramatic, but makes sense. Because if you wallow in a sad longing for the past long enough, you are probably 1. Ignoring the bad things about those times, 2. Experiencing mental anguish, and 3. Not living your life.
This is an odd topic for a holiday column, I realize. Stay with me.
Many best-loved beings have left the building. Favorite musicians, actors, friends, lovers, pets, family, neighbors. The world at large seems a giant mess. While nostalgia implies a glossing over of actual history, I feel that my generation’s past was in fact lovelier – before the major disasters (you know the names) that imperiled our overall sense of safety and trust in humans, no matter where we live. At least in the US, by and large, life was easier back then. The oceans and wildlife and all of the Lands are now at risk. Homeless tent cities everywhere. And there is so much hate now. Or else we see more hate, due to the devil that is 24-hour news on TVs and screens. So don’t feel too bad about feeling nostalgic.
In our messed-up powder keg of a world, it’s difficult to remain hopeful or sane. Especially as it seems there’s little be done about much of it, aside from sending checks and voting. But I discovered this: that making an effort to feel good can actually pay off. It’s not easy sometimes, but worth trying. I went to see a magical and upbeat band at Chandler Center for the Arts, helped collect gifts for Ukrainian kids, and baked for a dear friend in need. I plan to go back to choir. Do you know that singing in groups (even small) increases your oxytocin? And surely other good brain chemicals.
When you feel good, you feel loved. And when you feel loved, you feel good. It works both ways, right? Well, guess what: feeling good allows great amounts of what some call Life Force to flow through you. This makes you healthier physically and emotionally. This makes you better able to navigate illness and difficult situations. Energized. Motivated. Resilient. So go feel good if it kills you. Maybe right now you’d rather lie around feeling like holy hell. Go right ahead, but don’t do it for long. It’ll make you sick.
Like many of you, I always dug Thanksgiving because my mommy put on such good ones and because it’s non-denominational. We would host people who had nowhere to go, much as our family’s loud antics were no doubt technically embarrassing. The guests didn’t seem to mind. We laughed and laughed. So did the guests. I miss every single person in those blurry old Instamatic photos, whether they moved away or died or just grew up.
But in an effort to feel good, and in so doing make others feel good, this year I endeavor to focus far more on who’s here than on who’s not.
What I suggest this holiday to you and to me both is this: really marinate in communal happiness. No matter how small your group, no matter how past holidays appear happier in your mind, feel the love right where you are. When, at the table, verbally honoring the memory of our global and familial stars now gone, really savor the people that are here. Right here. Love the one(s) you’re with.
Feel good. Spread love. Bring leftovers to someone left out. Good Thanksgiving Day.
Ann Aikens’ darkly comical, uplifting book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, is available at Amazon & Vermont shops. She has written her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find shops at annaikens.com; more of her writing at uppervalleygirl.com.
When you write something that gets delivered in some way (a book, eulogy, a love letter), you later think of things you left out, or come across things that could have gone in. Well, in Newspaper Land where this column lives, that can be easily rectified! Time marches on, but no big whoop because yesterday’s news is yesterday’s news and it’s always a new week.
To that end … I wrote a month ago about how our messed-up world needs more laughs, that column titled “How To Be Funny.” We had become sorely in need of the medicine of laughter, as it were, in trying tymes. As the world has since somehow gotten even more messed up, I dive into this topic again. Because we need laughs.
Make Up Words
Use words that don’t exist and see if your listeners run with it. What’s really “sub” about suburban? How about “peri-urban”? Toss it off in conversation, and people will just think they’re behind in the endless modern renaming of things (“TEMROT”). Similarly, create fake acronyms.
Incorporate Weird Things People Have Said into Your Lexicon
Years ago, a friend was driving through a toll in Jersey when the toll booth operator asked repeatedly and incomprehensibly, “Er Zed Poss??” After much back and forth, it was determined that she meant “E-Z Pass.” To this day we call it Er Zed Poss.
Be Unintentionally Funny
Which is funny in and of itself, because you cannot plan to be unintentionally funny. You can soundunintentionally funny, like Suzanne Somers (or a dozen other “dumb blondes,” including Dick Smothers, who played that well), but it is of course intentional.
Think: Yogi Berra.
He was clearly not unintentionally funny. It was brilliantly faux faux pas, one after the other.
“Nobody goes there nowadays, it’s too crowded.”
“You can observe a lot by just watching.”
“It’s like déjà vu all over again.”
But When Someone Is Unintentionally Funny for Real,
it’s comedic gold. In high school, someone meant to say “the genteel aristocracy.” He said instead by mistake, “the genital aristocracy.” Which conjures up all manner of images. Some 40+ years later we still laugh about it.
This happened to me recently. I said, regarding something having to do with Halloween, “Oh goody, something for me to sink my teeth into!” Ha ha, said a colleague. Realizing I’d likely said something unintentionally funny, I guessed: “Oh … you mean like bobbing for apples?” No, she said: Vampires.
Misapply Slogans to Other Products
A radio station did this once, years ago. They took existing corporate slogans, and applied them as if to promote Viagra. I remember only this gem: “When it Absolutely/Has to Get There/Overnight” (FedEx’s tag line at the time).
More Absurdity, Please!
It seems that when you become successful in sports, you start your own steakhouse chain. Or BBQ, or something resembling a Chili’s. Successful in music? You develop your own gross-looking “clothing line” or, more hilariously, “fragrance.” (I want to go around smelling like the woman who sang such forgettable songs as [can’t name them].) When I hit it big, which will be never, I will start a “line” of dignity-based enema kits, create a “lifestyle plan” that involves eating while watching TV, and invent a “fragrance” for dogs. I will call all three “Ann,” just to hammer home my “brand” and all-around greatness, and my legions of sycophantic fans will make me rich, richer, RICHER, R I C H E R, R I C H E R R R R R R. You can never have enough.
The Laughs You Give
It may be naïve of me, but it seems that our talk about “fighting against hate” – whether the hate referred to means vicious acts by one group against another, police violence against unarmed civilians, an unsuccessful “War On drugs” that seemingly did nothing, egregious cruelty to children and animals, or 100 others forms of hate – I feel like the “fight against hate” just creates more of the same. Like the Hatfields and the McCoys*: an endless cycle of hateful violence. We humans maybe have this “fight against hate” thing backwards. Yet: how do we love or laugh our way out of attacks and atrocities? I don’t know. Still, perhaps there’s something to it. Maybe it’s like the Southern Poverty Law Center taking away Ku Klux Clan properties in courts of law and, with love, turning the land into summer camps for disadvantaged children of color, thus giving people like me who “hate” haters … the last laugh. Just throwing it out there
Good laffs to you. Because love is one million more times more powerful than hate, and because laughter is a form of love, and because laughter dries tears. Good day.
*Read Malcom Gladwell’s Outliers, chapter 6.
Ann Aikens’ darkly comical, uplifting book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, is available at Amazon & Vermont shops. She has written her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find shops at annaikens.com; more of her writing at uppervalleygirl.com.
Years ago, after a heartbreak (the first of many), I decided to stretch myself. I learned then that, of all things, fear can boost you out of the hole. Fear trumps all other emotions – logically I guess, as a survival mechanism.
I had worked at and frequented comedy clubs for years, so I went that route of fear: performing (not, say, cliff diving.) After said heartbreak, I took a comedy class (lame), attempted standup (terrifying; developed periscope-like tunnel vision of audience), and somehow got into an improv group (practice sessions riotous, even though I never got to “play,” as improvers call it, on show nights, my motorcycle constantly croaking in sketchy NYC neighborhoods after shows).
Anyway, here goes: How To Be Funny
Hang Out with Funny People
Imagine if you ate breakfast every day with Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner. That was Rob Reiner’s youth. No way he (the director of the fake “rockumentary” This Is Spinal Tap) was not going to grow up to be funny.
Callbacks
This is when you refer to something mentioned earlier in your “set” – or conversation – that made people laugh the first time. Everyone loves callbacks. They’re like, “Oh, I remember that funny thing; that was funny, even funnier now, HAW, how clever!” This is not your classic callback, but close enough, and funny as hell.
Footnotes and Parenthetical Insertions
Use for unexpected laffs. The weirder the better, I find.
Sarcasm
Growing up, our parents used sarcasm to great comedic effect, especially while driving. “Yo Einstein, find a parking spot already, it’s not that complicated.” “Hey Quicksilver, the pedal on the right is for the GAS.” I later learned that my favorite aged kid is eight, because they’ve learned sarcasm but still respect authority. This doesn’t last. Well, the sarcasm does.
And my personal favorite…
The Absurd
Example: Rodentologist and author of “Raising Hamsters Right” urges owners to guide their rodents with a firm hand from the get-go. “Establishing dominance is the name of the game. Letting your hamster think it’s in charge can have disastrous effects.” (Point being: Who can train a hamster?)
Be Like My Dad
He recently had a flu shot and his shoulder hurt. I said,”You should probably be drinking a lot of water.” His reply: “I’ll probably be drinking a lot of gin.”
See Live Comedy and Improvisational Comedy
Best viewed with a group, IMHO. Get a posse and go. GREAT standup show coming up at Randolph’s Chandler in October called the Ivy League of Comedy. Go! Saw them twice and they so rocked. Anyone who knows where to find good improv locally, I’m all ears. My contact info below. Nothing is funnier than improv. You’ll LERV it.
Create a Flash Mob
While working banquet at a stranger’s wedding? Bar mitzvah?
Or, If Unmotivated…
Watch flash mobs on YouTube. The bystanders’ reactions are priceless.
Tell Disgusting True Stories
Like how when I lived in a tiny walk-up in SoHo, New York, I subsisted on take-out pizza, sushi, and bagels. Never cooked. One day after 2 years I opened my oven and an absolute waterfall of cockroaches cascaded out. (They call that The Nest.) My neighbors thought I was being murdered, from the screaming. Imagine if you passed out, and they’d scrambled all over you? This story always gets a laugh and amusing faces of disgust. Note parenthetical insertion.
Tell Flagrant Lies to Amuse Self and Friends
At a boring party? Spice it up. Haul your friend over to someone you both don’t know. Ask the person what they do for a living (very American). Acknowledge their work. Then say, “Sheila here is a rodentologist studying the rat population of minor cities. She started out as a trapeze artist, didn’t you, Sheila? It will be Sheila’s job to keep a straight face and elaborate. (Note: This is a callback in two ways: the hamster reference, plus this game is straight out of improvisational comedy.)
Watch Funny Shows/Movies
I know a cosmic person who says his secret to inner peace is meditation and watching funny movies. With his mom.
I’ve been thinking, since recent flicks “Barbie” and “Theater Camp” had me howling, that what the world needs now (besides love*) is funny, yes, funny. Come on writers and directors, crank out those comedies — highbrow, lowbrow, we don’t care. Bring it awn. Go see comedies in the theater. The shared experience crushes home viewing.
Suggested Movies: A Short and Largely Obscure List of Comedic Brilliance
Not necessarily entirely comedies, but mega-comical moments:
Bridesmaids, Go (clever ensemble piece; the Amway scene!), Wonder Boys, Mother (Albert Brooks and Debbie Reynolds GEM), After Hours (Linda Fiorentino hottt!). Barbie is worth it for the dance numbers with Ryan Gosling, a former New Mickey Mouse Club alum who can DANCE.
Mel Brooks: Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, and High Anxiety.
Forget Paris: the pigeon scene with Debra Winger
Stuber: So, so good. You won’t regret. Kumail Nanjiani and Dave Bautista!
The Spy Who Dumped Me: the chase scene alone…Milla Kunis and Kate McKinnon
Three Woody Allen movies you may not have seen that kill: Small Time Crooks (Tracy Ullman), Hollywood Ending (absurd plot, luminescent Tea Leoni), Manhattan Murder Mystery (Diane Keaton)
Cricket On The Hearth: old-school animated Christmas movie my nieces love.
Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion (when they ask for a Business Woman’s lunch)
Pink Panther flicks (“It’s not my phaone.”)
Bill Murray: Scrooged and Caddyshack
Groundhog Day: romantic to boot!
The Royal Tenenbaums
Overboard: I’ve seen it 10 times and I do not re-watch movies.
Anchorman (I’ve never seen)
Christopher Guest: Best in Show
Napoleon Dynamite: The dance sequence, you’ll be afire
Alan Arkin (total god): Glen Gary Glenross, Little Miss Sunshine, The Russians Are Coming The Russians are Coming
It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World: another old nugget
Meet the Fockers (I’ll tell you a funny story if you ask at contact info below)
Shows: Maybe another column, with Dear Reader’s input? Your call. Good day.
*Nod to Burt Bacharach
Ann Aikens has released a darkly comical yet uplifting book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, available on Amazon and local Vermont shops. She has written her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Information at annaikens.com.
Cutie pie Ginger! At top is Marshmallow; RIP our classic darling. You brought only joy.
Come and go as you please from 6-7:30 for reading, signing, plus pizza & childcare thanks to goddess librarian, Mariah. Bring your book or get one there for cash or check!
It has been on ongoing observation, since COVID, just how rude Americans have become. From workplace conversations to articles everywhere, people are asking, “What the heck is going on?” People hide behind the shield of social media to act horribly. Parents and students both often treat teachers poorly; many schools don’t back teachers up. Nurses are quitting due to hostile patients. Who could ever work in customer service or airports, the way those poor people are treated? There are 27 theories, including David Brooks’ in the The Atlanticrecently.
My own guess is this rude irritability stems from frustration with just about everything: money, politics, wars, weather, disasters, understaffing, social media, homelessness, inhumane prisons, lazy workers just dialing it in, supply chain issues, gas prices, grocery prices, price gouging. How about low-paying jobs plus overpriced housing squeezing workers? Might that make one short-tempered? Ticks ruining our outdoors, COVID ruining our plans anew, floods ruining Vermont’s rivers, overwhelm and loneliness ruining our moods.
Technology keeps changing so we cannot possibly keep up with it, while the Customer Service we need (a human, please!), to make techy things work, goes ever faster down the flusher. And don’t get me going on the impending A-I Armageddon (call me alarmist). I’m sure you have your own ranklers. You’d have to be living entirely off the grid to not notice. Or on another planet.
David Brooks has a much-quoted theory: “The most important story about why Americans have become sad and alienated and rude, I believe, is also the simplest: We inhabit a society in which people are no longer trained in how to treat others with kindness and consideration.”
Of all the triggers, this is to me the gloomiest. The others are enormously complicated and out of our control. But basic human kindness can and must be taught – and learned!
Personally, I have found flight attendants to be far less pleasant, possibly due to ongoing abuse by rude travelers. I’ve noticed little kids being less friendly, maybe due to hours on devices, with masking during their critical developmental years, plus a long stretch of limited interaction with people outside their families. When I meet a friendly child, I’m overjoyed! How’d that kid make it through, I wonder?
Happily, the crime rate has recently dropped. And I’ve been on flights where passengers were remarkably kind to each other despite painful delays – special kudos to the Young People who were very polite indeed. Maybe they’re used to all this adversity?
Those tidbits aside: Come on people. Teach your children well. And, okay, maybe your elders didn’t teach you to be nice, but isn’t it common sense to treat others as you wish to be treated? Teach down! Learn up! Teach up, if you have to.
One role model: Chip Milnor. If you missed it, read Maryellen Apelquist’s lovely paean to Chip on the front page of the August 17th White River Valley Herald. It’s moving in part because Chip is so missed, gone too soon, and in part because his type is so rare these days, it seems. Someone who went routinely out of his way to help others, with no need for accolades, and enjoyed, I suspect, every minute of doing so.
Chips are an otherworldly breed who inspire awe. One idea for the rest of us: go out of your way to feel good and to relax – in order to be able to be nice. Try it. Make an effort to calm yourself, have fun. Do whatever it takes. Me, I get in water. Sleep. Amuse self. Feel good … to be nice.
My tiny, grass-roots initiative is to spread laffs. Laughter is good for what ails our knockout planet. Make time for your clever friends and shows! Might I suggest taking a posse to “Theater Camp” – our audience was hooting. A blend of Christopher Guest, Ru Paul, and The Office. Perverse premise, lines well delivered, with solid pacing. Go laugh!
In closing, a funny story. I have a friend who’s noticing the first physical limitations of aging. He’s 40-something. That’s when it starts. For the first time in public, he used the steps on the back of his pickup truck. As he fairly skipped up them to impress a boy watching him, the kid said dryly, “I’ve never seen anyone have to use those.”
I’m not certain what my friend thought yet didn’t say in response, but I am sure it was rich. Reminds me of the old gem The Russians Are Coming, The Russians are Coming, when Carl Reiner’s son waxes bratty. A ripsnorter worth renting, if outdated.
Go get yourself the last days of summer. Good laffs to you, good moods, good niceness, and good (Labor) Day.
Ann Aikens has published a darkly humorous book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, available at Vermont shops and Amazon. She has written her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. List of shops, email signup for events, and more of her writing at annaikens.com.
No, not the peony or candle or the cylindrical packaging ~ the fountain pen, Silly.
Yes, those other things make a nice gift, but a writer digs a good pen. This is from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Makes you want to WRITE. Its beautiful pattern is by the founder of the Arts and Crafts movement, William Morris.
And it’s heavy. You know something is well made when it’s heavy.
uppervalleygirl 