What's That Growing in My Sour Cream?: Humorous Observations on Modern Life

By Brad Graber

Brad Graber's new release WHAT'S THAT GROWING IN MY SOUR CREAM? is a compilation of humorous essays reflecting on the joys, challenges, and absurdities of modern life in America. Drawn from Graber's blog There, I Said It! Graber introduces readers to his sharp ob

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brad Graber
• Release date: Mar 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9780997604252

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What's That Growing in My Sour Cream? by Brad Graber

What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? Humorous Observations on Modern Life Copyright © 2020 by Brad Graber.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be copied or reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing by the publisher.

Disclaimer: The characters and story line portrayed in this book are fictional and are not based on any person living or dead. Any public figures mentioned are representative of time and place of the story.

ISBN:

Paperback: 978-0-9976042-4-5

eBook: 978-0-9976042-5-2

Cover design: Ronnie Seats

Interior page design: Ronnie Seats

Photograph: pexels.com

Published by Dark Victory Press

[e-mail]

bradgraber.com

First printing: 2020

Printed in the United States of America

To my wonderful husband, Jeff. How you have managed to put up with me all these years is a miracle. For me, it’s been a dream come true.Table of Contents

The Introduction

What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream?

The Liberation of Marcia Brady

Three Rules to Follow When Launching a Second Career

Assault Rifles: Isn’t the Danger Right There in the Name?

Tomorrowland

Elevator Pitch: Stuck Between the Floors?

Fighting with Technology: From India and Back

Calling David Sedaris: I’m Over Here

Ageism: Live Long Enough — It’ll Find You

Why Burn the Garlic Toast When You Can Just as Easily Poison Your Dinner Guests?

Facebook Friendships: Really?

Betrayed by a Fortune Cookie

Going White in the Age of Trump

Is That a Birthday Cake or a Bonfire?

Did Anyone Pack the Pepto-Bismol?

My New Car is Up on the Roof

Exercise—Does It Really Help?

Happy Hour Anyone?

White Tube Socks

What Did You Say?

Let’s Eat

Aussie Survivor

Now I Lay Me Down

Smile

But Darling, I love Turner Classic Movies

Not Another Supermarket

Who is that Coughing?

Awkward Man Hugs

Weather or Not … Here Comes Summer

Arthritis Anyone?

Where’s the Shift?

Breaking News: Man Discovers Pedicures

The World’s Oldest Fly: Where Did It Come From?

Sleeping Beauty: Wake-up!

Mahjong Anyone?

And the Password is …

Summer Movies: Or How to Survive Phoenix in July

Does Anyone Know a Good Handyman?

Saving it For Good

Is Your Refrigerator A Mess?

Death & New Orleans

Smartphone Etiquette—Stop Looking at Your Damn Phone

Why is a Poodle in the Bathroom?

Ever Walk into Your Beloved? Are You Clumsy? Or is it Something Else?

If the Sky is Up, Why Am I Looking Down?

Why is the Medicine Cabinet in the Kitchen?

Ten Tips for a Happy Life

Why is the Television So Darn Loud?

Are You Too Old to Change?

If You Enjoy Crossword Puzzles . . . You Should Write a Novel

The Holiday Season is Here—Yeah!

It’s A New Year!

Fast Food for a Slow Eater?

Late Night Buying Spree . . . What’s Your Pleasure?

The Game of Life: What’s Your Score?

How Would You Rate Your Doctor?

Where Are All These Darn Pillows Coming From?

Lessons I’ve Learned from My Dog about Aging

If You’re A Baby Boomer, Does Anyone Still Want to Hear Your Opinion?

Why Is There So Much Movie Violence?

Why Can’t We Bequeath Our Friends When We Die?

Here a Psychic, There a Psychic, Everywhere, a Psychic, Psychic

What’s in a Word?

Trauma and Humor: A Bad Combination

Trick or Treat: Step Away from the Candy Bowl!

The Traveling Big Head Show Coming to a Theatre Near You

Thanksgiving: Turkey or Not?

Whatever Happened to Customer Service?

Are You Living with Someone Who Has a Cold?

I Hate to Complain

A New Year: Hooray or Oy Vey?

Ten More Tips for A Happy Life

The Introduction

When I first started writing a weekly blog, I was an unknown author. I’d just finished my first novel, The Intersect, and despite my best efforts was struggling to find an audience for it. In this new age of publishing, readers were genre driven. Tastes leaned toward Romance, Young Adult, Sci-Fi, Erotica, Mystery, Fantasy, or Paranormal. Though my contemporary fiction contained a minor love story, it didn’t fit cleanly into a hot genre. Should I add a dragon? Create an encounter with a UFO? Introduce wizards? Should my story have been set in the future when the Earth is inhabited by aliens living off the flesh of human livestock?

In retrospect, I should have considered it.

But, that’s simply not the fiction that I write. Perhaps one day, I’ll give it a try. But for now, I’m all about how we connect and bring meaning to each other’s lives. How friendships are formed. How families keep secrets. How injustice exists in plain sight and what good people do in the face of such injustice. In short, I’m fascinated with the human condition. Intrigued by the lessons we learn along the way. These are the themes that attract my attention. And if you pick up a copy of my second novel, After the Fall, you’ll see that I still haven’t learned the genre lesson.

But you shouldn’t think that I’m a wild-eyed optimist. Not quite. I’m a realist at heart, with a radar for inconsistency. Perhaps that’s because I was raised by a mother who often said, Do as I say, not as I do. Upon reflection, and without any disrespect to Mom, that seemed pretty crazy. So, unwittingly, over the years, I’ve honed my skills at detecting inconsistency. And now, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Inconsistency is everywhere. It’s running rampant.

Which brings me to the essays in this book.

You might wonder how they are organized. Actually, they’re appearing in the sequence in which they were initially published on my website, www.bradgraber.com. At first I tried to organize them into cogent categories, but that seemed awkward and artificial. So, I decided to let you, the reader, discover each nugget of wisdom (I hope you will regard some of them as such!) with a flip of the page. If you really love a piece, I’ve provided a table of contents to make it easy to find it again.

Now to the title and cover.

Admittedly, both are unconventional. Yet there are moments when little annoyances creep into our everyday lives. For me, one such annoyance is symbolized by that container of sour cream. Okay. I’m terrible with expiration dates. What can I say? I’d initially thought of calling the book You’re Born with the Face God Gave You—You Wind Up with the Face You Deserve. My grandmother often used that expression. She was a lovely woman, yet I’m not sure that observation was meant as a compliment. It probably was a warning to a child who didn’t smile enough. Either way. I’ll probably use that title for a future book. Yes, I am an ambitious fellow.

What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream?

In our house, we have a bad habit. We keep certain items in the refrigerator far too long. Now, I’m not referring to the ketchup, mustard, relish, and that jar of jelly tucked in the door. When were they purchased? Who knows? They always taste fine. Which makes me wonder, does a condiment ever go bad?

Dairy

One thing that doesn’t hold up as well is dairy. You know when the milk has turned, by the flecks that appear in your coffee. Before plastic containers, I used to think those floating islands were pieces of wax from the carton. Of course, milk’s expiration date is front and center when you buy it. It’s not unusual to see people buried in the refrigerated section, butts sticking out of the dairy case, searching for the latest expiration date. But then most people use milk every day. The likelihood of its going bad is pretty slim. And if it does, coffee offers that early warning system before the milk is added to the cereal.

Sour Cream

Sour cream, on the other hand, is a different dairy story. We don’t use it often, but when we do, there’s always a half-used container sitting in the refrigerator. And, since I’m the guy who plans most of our meals and hates to waste food, that darn sour cream calls out to me: How can you use me up today? I usually have no idea. Until I do.

Surprise, Surprise

And when you think about it, doesn’t sour cream sound as if it has already gone bad? Sure, it does. Which makes its extended stay in the refrigerator even more alarming. I can’t tell you—though I’m about to anyway—how often I’ve peeked in the container and seen something nasty. Something green and fuzzy. Like the art project your kid might bring home from school. Only, with an added aroma.

Life

Perhaps sour cream is a metaphor for life! Delicious when it’s fresh, not so great when it’s old and expired. And it’s our job to think about how to use it all up in the most creative way. So, here’s to hoping that there’s nothing growing in your sour cream. That every day is a bright and happy one. And most important, that your expiration date affords you to do all the wonderful things you love with the people you love. Including eating blintzes, baked potatoes, and Mexican food. Which by the way, all go great with sour cream.

“The Liberation of Marcia Brady”

I happened to catch an episode of The Brady Bunch on the very morning that Hillary Clinton was to accept the Democratic nomination for President of the United States.

That’s what I do when I wake up at 4:30 a.m.

I sit in front of the television with a cup of coffee, blinking hard until the world comes into focus. 1970s sitcom television is about all I can handle. It’s my precursor to the morning news. Which by the way, requires another cup of coffee.

The show was titled The Liberation of Marcia Brady and was written to address America’s growing concern with feminism and women’s rights—concepts that galvanized the girls as much as it riled the boys in the Brady household. And even though there was no bra burning or marching, the point was clear: Times were changing. Women were finding their voices. Heck, even Alice and Carol Brady were onboard.

As the episode unfolded, I couldn’t help but wonder about the timing of the telecast. Did someone deliberately select that particular morning to air the episode? Could it have just been a coincidence?

That seemed unlikely.

Watching the show was like opening a time capsule. I was reminded that change comes slowly, if at all. And that each one of us has prejudices to overcome. Prejudices that are reflective of the era in which we’re raised.

Oh, sure. We’ve had other notable female politicians. Who could forget Shirley Chisholm, Bella Abzug, Barbara Jordan, and Geraldine Ferraro, to name but a few? But, as I watched the Brady family that morning, I wondered if America had ever been this close to electing a female president.

Hillary’s nomination made me realize how far we’ve come as a Nation. And despite her loss at the polls in 2016, the glass ceiling is now permanently cracked. We will eventually have a female president. At least, I hope so.

Now it’s time for America to get onboard with equal pay for equal work. Marcia, Hillary, and the women of America deserve nothing less.

Three Rules to Follow When Launching a Second Career

I know what you’re thinking.

You don’t want a second career. You’ve worked hard all your life and now all you want to do is chill. Do absolutely nothing. Become a beach bum.

I completely understand.

But, when you retire, there’s going to be a moment that you look around and think: What the heck am I going to do with myself today?

Worse yet: What am I going to do tomorrow?

The clock will become an armed-guard, unwilling to let you pass through the endless afternoon. Whenever you look up, it’ll be two o’clock. Just like the movie Groundhog Day.

Now how can that be? Wasn’t it just two o’clock a few hours ago?

Three Tips

So, here are three tips to help you prepare for the big day.

You’ll want to make a note of this before you’re at the company retirement party, or, worse, as Human Resources walks you out the door. If you’re planning on being carried out on a stretcher, your face covered with a sheet, you can stop reading now.

1  Seek Opportunities with Start-ups or Nonprofits

Why give up thinking just because you prefer to sleep late in the morning?

Before you retire, while you’re still employed with that impressive title, explore opportunities with companies that capture your interest. Whether you decide to be a community volunteer, or step into an unpaid consulting role on the board, having some place to go when you retire will be a blessing. And volunteering still allows for plenty of time for tennis and golf.

2  Do What Gives You Pleasure

Make your daydreams come true. If you’ve always wanted to paint, sign up for an art course. Go on to Meetup.com to search groups in your area engaged in hobbies from hiking, attending sporting events and lectures, or doing whatever strikes your fancy. Commit to going to at least two events a month for three months. You’ll meet new people, and many, just like you, will be looking for structured activities to give balance to their lives. Plus, you’ll learn a lot.

3  Go Easy on Yourself

Change is hard. No doubt there will be moments when you feel lost and confused. It happens to the best of us. On those days, recognize that no one is perfect. And, oh yes. Welcome to the club!

Assault Rifles: Isn’t the Danger Right There in the Name?

I’m stumped by this.

If I was grocery shopping, and came across a breakfast cereal named Cancer Corn, I’d never buy it.

If I was in the market for a new car, I’d pass on an automobile named A-Bomb. It’s not that I’m a bad driver, but who would want to risk a nuclear event with the simple turn of an ignition key?

If I were in the mood for something sweet, I’d avoid Jawbreakers. Mostly because I’m afraid of the dentist, but also because it’s impossible to get those things into your mouth without choking.

Yet, in America, military-style assault weapons are available to purchase for wild game-hunting and self-protection?

Seems like over-kill.

Or am I missing something?

Tomorrowland

The other day, I had the strangest feeling —

a keen sense of déjà vu as I stared at my iPhone, checking my Instagram account. I was once again at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. Captivated by the modern conveniences showcased at the pavilions of General Electric, Bell Systems, Ford, General Motors, and Westinghouse. Would I ever really see those inventions in my lifetime?

In the 1980s, the desktop computer arrived. Next, the microwave oven—which was okay for reheating foods but not so great for cooking a meal. Then, the CD player: thin discs to replace big LPs.

I remembered seeing these products years before they appeared in the stores. Before there was a Best Buy or Fry’s Electronics. Or Amazon. My eight-year-old self wasn’t surprised by the technology. Just by how long it took for it to finally arrive in my home. The iPhone. Skype. Texting. Would the world ever really have that kind of connectivity?

The speed of innovation has changed the landscape of our lives. The Kodak Instamatic disappeared. Encyclopedias: gone. The landline telephone, a dinosaur. Televisions morphed from small boxes with five or six channels to flat widescreens with hundreds of channels. PayPal, Bitcoin, and Apple money have emerged. There are even predictions about the disappearance of paper money.

Then the sight of a driverless car jolted me.

Of course, I remember.

I waited decades—and now that promised world has come into view. It’s happened. It’s real. It’s exciting. And I feel like I did when I was eight years old anticipating the next innovation in Tomorrowland!

Elevator Pitch: Stuck Between the Floors?

Growing up in a New York City high-rise apartment building, I would have thought it a no-brainer for me to come up with an elevator pitch for my novels. A short, pithy, got you! hook that would compel thousands to purchase and read my fiction.

After all,

I’ve spent countless hours riding up and down in an elevator—not to mention being stuck between floors—listening to adults swap stories. Recapping the visit of an aunt, the illness of a child, the death of a parent. All done in under a minute or less. The juiciest teasers being spoken just before the elevator doors opened to the next floor.

And yet, every time someone asks me about my fiction, I struggle. I should be able to do a quick recap. Who knows my novels better than I do? How could I possibly have spent all those hours (years, in fact) writing and be unable to quickly describe my own stories?

Perhaps it’s because I’m inherently shy. Uncomfortable being on the spot. Or, maybe, I’m reluctant to be judged.

Oh—when you meet me—you don’t get that. Hey, I’ve been an adult for quite a while. I’ve mastered the art of being friendly and gracious.