Which Are You?

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I believe that there are six types of people who interact with each other on this earth. They are as follows:

THE ONE UPPERS:

We have all encountered these types along the way. Your telling a story and when you are finished with your story it pales in comparison to the story the “ONE UPPER” is about to regale you with. Their stories are always much bolder, way longer and far more interesting and they’re only too smug to tell you so. That is, when they even allow you to even finish your story … because of their belief that everyone wants to listen to only them. ‘ONE UPPERS” crave the spotlight, need attention, and are genuinely not interested in your opinion. “ONE UPPERS” can leave you feeling uninteresting and largely inadequate and do not make you a better human being.

THE POLIANNA’S

Initially with these people you can succumb to their kindness. They are often referred to as being so nice. The poly’s allure is equal parts gentle persuasion, attentiveness and a complimentary nature. They are generally very upbeat and positive. They constantly look to find the silver lining even in times when there is simply none. Their garbage smells like potpourri and that stupid smiley face is their icon of choice. Their glass is always half full. But their shelf life is very short. They are constantly being overrun by aggressive people who exploit them and discover they’re fragile psyche. In a dog eat dog world they are the rawhide, chewed up constantly and spit out in the process.

THE WHACKS:

Per chance you have met them and probably quickly dismissed them because they don’t seem to fit into mainstream America but a closer look is warranted. They are the proverbial square peg in a round hole. The whacks don’t dress like you, don’t act like you and don’t live in the same world as you but interestingly enough are asked to interact with you. If you don’t invest a lot of emotional sacrifice and watch from a safe distance they are actually quite intriguing. Creativity, albeit misguided at times can be a central part of their journey through life. Genetically, they are not wired like you and therefore their theories and perceptions are really quite amusing. They are actually some of my favorite people because they can bring a smile to your face and break up the monotonous normalcy of everyday living. They are the car wreck you are freakishly fascinated by but glad you are not experiencing yourself.

THE 9 -5′ERS:

These groups need to exercise extreme caution, probably more so than most. Without much fanfare you will slip into a cyclical routine of boredom. Work, sleep, and wait for the weekend. Work, sleep, and wait for the weekend. Picture yourself on a treadmill with the off button just out of reach. Sometimes we just need to jump off. 9-5′ers generally have structure in their lives, are well organized and have little or no retail background. Social outings and events are usually planned well in advance and impromptu soirees are kept to a minimum. Friday night it’s a movie or a ballgame, Saturday a little work around the house, by Sunday you’re already thinking about work Monday morning so you shut it down early. If it’s a six sided box you’re living in be sure to open the lid and get some fresh air.

THE DOWNERS:

I’m handing out free samples of patience if you have these types in your life on a constant basis. Your constitution had better be very strong because as the saying goes … misery loves company. Let’s see, how does it work? Oh yea … You get that new job you always wanted BUT … now you have to get a new wardrobe. You buy your dream house BUT … now you have a mortgage. You win the lottery BUT now you have to pay the taxes. These folks have a bad case of the blues and I ain’t talkin B.B.KING. They are a weight, an albatross, and a cross to bear. If you are not a strong minded person it can bring you down to a level where it’s a long climb back up. Beware of the woe for it is a dropped anchor around your neck.

THE SALTS:

The salt of the earth. The solid reliable person you go to in any situation. They are unwavering, give solid advice after listening and always seem to have a feel for what you need to do. They are the person everyone seems to lean on and yet never seem overburdened by it all. Never frenetic in nature they are the calm reassuring voice you need to hear and they seldom ask for anything in return. When the world gives us a little more than we can handle these people are golden. You are lucky to have one in your life and blessed if you have more. The salts lighten your emotional load, pick up your spirits and set you back on the right path again. Their work is priceless.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle . He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

By Mike McGovern

A gun range has a certain je ne sais quoi about it. Maybe it’s the imminence of severe injury or possible death—it’s at once exhilarating and stress relieving, and is the main reason for my recent shotgun purchase. A secondary reason is for home protection.
Living in a townhome community for 4 years—the close quarters, the shared driveways, yards, and walls—one learns a lot about people. On one side you have people who are considerate, who organize yard sales (that begin much too early on Saturday mornings), and who scold their children when one scampers into the street without first looking both ways. On the other side of the spectrum lie the neighbors who live on either side of my home.

First, we have the end unit “family.” When we moved in they were seemingly nice, always said hello and chatted briefly and such. The couple has four children who no longer live there. The same goes for the father. The situation has devolved to the point that my wife and I aren’t sure what’s going on. He did return two Saturdays ago, but that was just to bang on their front door and yell to let him inside. We assumed the girlfriend had locked him out. Since it was only 8:30pm, we let it go figuring it was a minor domestic dispute that would blow over.

Cut to 11pm: We’re in bed watching the weather report and nodding off to sleep. Muffled yelling. Walls shaking. At this point, and given the late hour, I wasn’t having this go on any longer. Swiftly tossing the blanket aside, I bolted down the stairs, flung open the door and before I could say anything he cut me off with, “It’s just me.” I replied, “I don’t care. We’re trying to sleep” and SLAMMED the door shut. Not a half-hour later he’s back at it, and this time the noise is even louder. I tried to be nice the first time. Without hesitation I grabbed the phone and cleared my head while waiting for the police dispatcher to pick up.
–
A beer was my companion on the stairs while waiting for the police to arrive. I have to hand it to them, it was no more than 5 minutes.

Cop: “You got up there, so you can get down,” I heard through the front window. “Down from where?” I thought, heart still racing from the excitement.

Apparently the guy had climbed up onto the front overhang in an attempt to break in through the second floor bedroom window. The footprints I saw in the snow the next morning confirmed that assumption. It also made more sense why the banging and vibrations were so intense; he was only 10 feet away from our bedroom window! Granted, he wasn’t attempting to break down our bedroom window, but the residual sense of danger was too close for comfort.

A few days later, it was brought to my attention that a local firearms shop was selling a slightly used Remington 20-gauge shotgun at a great price.

So what’s the moral of this story? Guns don’t kill people; people kill people. But when your family feels endangered, it’s best to be prepared. Oh, and if you can, avoid living in a townhouse for any extended period.

*Lawyer Notice That Comes With All Mike McGovern Articles: ProLong Magazine does not condone the use firearms or threatening your neighbors with your guns .

When he’s not busy shooting birds at the airport, Mike enjoys pointing out the surprisingly prevalent misuse of “it’s” and “its,” taunting children, and spending time at the park with his wife Michelle and his dog Sam. After 4 years of marriage Michelle says, “I don’t use the word ‘perfect’ much, but he really is.” Mike, Michelle, and Sam live in an undisclosed location in PA, a town in Lancaster county that just recently began providing running water to its residents. Mike’s day basically involves helping save lives as the Managing Editor of a peer-reviewed wound care journal. Contact Mike: psudeke1@gmail.com.

By LaTasha Hewitt

When we talk about relationships, most people think of relationships with their partners, family, friends, coworkers and even their pets. However, not many of us think about the relationships that we will have with our home. Any one who has ever owned a home will tell you for both good and bad reasons you will form relationships with your house. In all reality how could you not form a bond and relationship. Homes are where we live our lives.

For many, the thought of such a large investment can be a little overwhelming as the idea of “signing their lives away” haunts them. But home ownership does not have to be a daunting experience. If ever there was a time to consider owning a home, it’s now. This is the case for three great reasons:

Low Home Prices
The downturn of the economy has had a significant impact on the real estate industry, particularly home values. What this means for the buyer is that they can get more bang for the buck. A home they may not have been able to afford 5 years ago could be well within their reach in the present market.

Low Interest Rates
Interest rates are at record lows, averaging between 4.5-5.5%. What does this mean to the buyer?… lower monthly payments and less money paid throughout the life of the loan.

Tax Credit
First-time home buyers who purchase a home by April 30th of this year, and close by the end of June 2010, will qualify to receive an 8,000 tax credit on their taxes. That extra cash could really come in handy to add a little TLC to a room or simply furnish one.

There is also a monetary incentive for current homeowners who have lived in their homes for 5 of the last 8 years. They are eligible for a tax credit up to $6,500. The great thing about his credit is that homeowners can either upgrade or downsize that next home.

So with all these incentives, I’m sure you’re asking…What do you need to do?

1.Save!
Because of the many homeowners who bit off more than they could chew by buying homes that could not realistically afford, most loans do require putting some money down, usually 5-20% of the purchase price. Lenders are viewing the money down as proof that you are financially prepared to handle home ownership.

2. Check your credit
Each person is entitled to one free credit report per year from one of the credit bureaus (TransUnion, . Take advantage of this so that you can address any questionable findings before your lender does. Pay down as much debt as possible so as to positively impact your score What this means to you: Your credit score affects your eligibility for a loan and also determines what your interest rate will be.

3. Do Your Research
Shop around with different mortgage companies. You are not obligated to go with someone suggested by your realtor, but it is a good idea to get recommendations from friends or family. While doing your research, be sure to inquire about 100% financing that may be available on qualifying homes.

4. Once you have found a lender that meets your need, get pre-approved for a loan.
This will aid you in determining how much you can afford and will prevent you from looking at homes out of your price range. Avoid the disappointment of falling in love with a home that you cannot afford.

5. Find a real estate agent.
Search for a realtor that you can trust. Family and friends are a great resource in this search as well. Look for someone with who is interested in listening to what you need and is committed to finding you what you want.

6. Go Looking!
This is the best part of the process. Go out and start looking at available homes. You’d be surprised how your needs and wants can change. Imagine your flat-screen on the wall or select which room would be best showcase your collectibles.

Happy House Hunting.

LaTasha is a real estate agent specializing in first-time home buyers. She believes in making the home-buying experience a memorable one. She is a family-centered person whose heart is overwhelmed with love for her husband and little girl!

Have real estate questions? I’d be glad to answer them. E-mail them to latasha.hewitt@prufoxroach.com or visit our website at a2zRealtorPA.com

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Adventures in Apartment Living

by Jennifer Maugle

Many of us have had the opportunity to meet some interesting and sometimes disturbing characters living just doors away. This is especially true when living in apartments under shared roofs and I am not even about to tackle landlords. Regardless of where you live, you have to wonder if you ever truly know your neighbors. Prior to taking the plunge and purchasing a house in 2007, my husband (then boyfriend) and I cohabited in a 2 bedroom apartment located in the northern suburbs of Philadelphia. We called this place “home” for five years and we can recall both good and not-so-good memories.

First, a quick recap of good memories and experiences: a fairly inexpensive place to live, use of pool and tennis courts (none of which we utilized – ever), free gym, numerous parties and gatherings with family and friends, we got got engaged while living here, and in our final years of apartment living we were privileged to have the company of good friends living just down the hall. This allowed for many hangouts, movie nights, dinner dates and more.

But let’s move on to the not-so-good memories, shall we? Sometimes when I look back on our time there, I have to just shake my head and laugh (and feel blessed to have the home we now live in). As anyone who lives in or has lived in an apartment knows, there could be a variety of characters (um, neighbors) to deal with or come across.

Enter “Eddie”. Eddie, his significant other, and their baby boy moved in across the hall from us and seemed like a nice enough, young family. I was asked once if I would ever babysit (they did not know me whatsoever) and when I said, “No, I am 27 and have a full-time job”, they were surprised and thought I was actually 17. As they settled in across the hall and time passed, we began to notice the distinct smell of pot coming from their apartment, the hallway and landing of the staircase. I realize that this probably isn’t an uncommon thing but it still irked me that it was seeping under our door fairly often and oh the fact that they lived with a small child who was inhaling second hand weed.

We soon realized this wasn’t much of an issue compared to what was about to happen. Fast forward to the time when our good friends and neighbors had their car stolen right out of the parking lot beneath their window. I probably shouldn’t go into great detail but suffice it to say we all know who did it or at least who was associated with the incident. The car was found in northern New Jersey, stripped of its parts.

Let’s continue. Who doesn’t get annoyed by bugs and infestations? Well we did, that’s for sure. It was bad enough when the cockroaches began parading under our front door from across the trashy-smelling neighbor’s apartment. We sprayed and killed them one by one and even came up with names for some of them: Cocky (the original), Jocky (the quick one), Stocky (the slow, dumb one), and Papa Roach too. Not surprisingly, when the tenants moved out and the apartment was cleaned, we didn’t get any more roach visitors.

However, the worst was yet to come. One day, we noticed that we were starting to get bites and welts all over our arms and legs. They didn’t itch too much but it was summertime so we just thought we had a mosquito or four stuck somewhere in our bedroom, sucking our blood in our sleep. Well, as the bites didn’t go away and we never found any mosquitoes, we weren’t sure what was going on until one night when we put a bedroom light on in the middle of the night. Much to our shock and dismay, we saw a plethora of little brownish-black bugs crawling on our bed as well as on us(they were too light-weight to even feel). I about lost it. To make a long story short, we had a nasty case of the bedbugs. We had pest control come numerous times to treat our apartment and our possessions (these buggers are incredibly hard to fight). We had to throw away our bed (where the bedbugs infest, multiply and leave black spots of excrement under the mattress edges) and sleep on our futon in the living room for approximately two weeks. How and why did these blood suckers come to us and where in the world did they come from? Who knew that bedbugs actually existed in real life and not just in the catchy kids’ phrase “Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite”? We eventually learned that they came from a recently evacuated apartment down the hall. Articles about bedbug invasions began
appearing all over the Internet and the news, especially being an issue in New York. They were easily being brought over unknowingly from foreign countries, becoming an issue for hotels and travelers, bedbugs attaching to luggage and so on. Although they pose no major threat of disease or harm, they are highly annoying and difficult to get rid of. Bedbugs my friends, are not cool.

And what would apartment living be without the danger of fire? It was around midnight one evening when the smoke alarms sounded out in the halls. We didn’t immediately rush up and outta there given that these things tend to go off for no apparent reason or because some juvenile decided to pull the alarm for fun. After too many minutes went by without it being shut off, I started to worry and opened our door to the hall to peek out. Smoke! Lots and lots of smoke! My significant other and I promptly went down the three flights of stairs and outside to where everyone else was. I seriously considered taking our cat with us but I was persuaded to keep her inside and that everything would be fine (although we didn’t truly know). As we passed one of our neighbor’s doors, we noticed it was slightly open and discovered that it was the source of all the smoke. We stood outside chattering with other residents as four township firetrucks pulled up to assess the situation. In they went and out they came a bit later with our neighbor, in a state of much confusion and/or drunkenness, wearing nothing but tighty whiteys and a dull look in his eyes. I don’t think he had a clue as to what was happening – we later found out that he fell asleep with items burning on the stove. Class-act neighbor right there.

I could go on and on with other stories such as the children who shot BB guns outside at each other (and put dents in cars in the process) or the time I came home from work to find helicopters swirling overhead and police cars and ambulances staked out all over the place (there had been a shooting in the apartment building next door). Or, amusing stories about our male neighbor who enjoyed blasting his Britney Spears techno music with the lights off except for his rotating party lights ball. Or the fact that we had another neighbor truly named Chuck Norris who drove a jaguar.

We had five years worth of interesting apartment living I must say. I look back and laugh now but also thank my lucky stars that we were able to get out before anything else happened. We are very thankful for the home we now own thirty miles north of Philadelphia. Home owning is a whole other bag of stories but I’ll save that for some other time. For those of you currently living in apartments or other community-based living arrangements, hopefully you’ve had better luck than we have. If you’re holding out to make an eventual house purchase – good luck, you will get there! And remember, sleep tight my friends … and don’t let those bedbugs bite!

By Georgia Cameron

I admit it. I have a problem. When I look into the eyes of a dog or cat on death row, or one that happens to wind up at my back door looking for food, I can’t help but get involved. There’s an intrinsic high you get when you save something that is near death, and seeing them off to their new homes with people that love and cherish them makes me feel like a super hero. I can’t imagine a drug that feels this good; on every level I am tingling with master-of-the-universe like power. I just saved a life.

After several years of near bankruptcy because of my condition, a few girlfriends and I pitched together and started what was supposed to be a tax umbrella and a little help for the vet care we put into our strays. Within three years we had grown to a point that was beyond a combined addiction – it was sheer insanity. With only 6 real volunteers and 4 foster homes, we managed to save over 220 animals in 2009. Of that number, more than ¾ had been marked for euthanasia at municipal shelters either because of space constraints or because they had failed behavioral tests. What makes our rescue different is that one of our founders is a professional dog trainer; we combine training into every single aspect of the rescue experience. Our dogs are rehabilitated from the ground up, and where once stood a terrified Chihuahua that would try and bite is now a happy family dog that enjoys hugs from children.

There are varying levels of rescue addiction. Some people watch Craigslist; others forward emails, some occasionally foster. Then there are the full blown addicts who are just crazy enough to try and start an actual organization dedicated to saving these animals. You are in a whole new territory when people are contacting you directly to save a dog they saw tied to a stop sign – and you actually go pick it up.

There is a lot of learning when you first start a rescue. Effectively filing your 501 application is no small feat, and finding ways to raise funds and stick to a budget is just as difficult. You will fight amongst yourselves, but in the end you’ll realize it takes the group effort to make a true rescue succeed, not just one individual.

Your personal life will suffer. Only a compassionate partner will understand when you have to skip a romantic dinner date so you can crawl through the mud, trapping kittens under an abandoned house that’s about to be torn down. You will reach points of sheer exhaustion, but you somehow manage to carry on (although not always coherently).

You will spar with your supporters. Some think you are miracle workers, others see you as paper pushers who just make the process more difficult with reference checks and adoption fees. You will quickly realize who your true friends are – the ones that will listen to your crazy stories and let you cry on their shoulder when you have a melt down. They also forward your frantic emails looking for homes when you get in 5 death-row dogs in one day, and somehow also managed to find a stray on the side of the road.

Your outer self may seem more tired, more world weary, and more jaded. You’ll have scars from bites, scratches and random accidents, and you’ll get more than one tetanus shot. Like a used car salesman you will start plugging your adoptable animals to everyone you know or meet. Yet the biggest change will come from within.

Your inner self, the one you know so intimately and can count on to act rationally, becomes like a lightning rod and occasionally a stranger. You will begin to feel the power of the universe as it moves through you, putting you in places at times that can’t be coincidence. You experience miracles that take your breath away. You will do things that sane people would walk away from, but you somehow embrace with the passion of a person who can see the difference they are making in the world.

In a short amount of time, you will become as one who does not feel complete if they aren’t juggling 20 balls at once. The people at PetSmart will know you by name, and your friends will begin to include veterinarians, animal control officers, and those similarly afflicted. You will love and hate the animals you save. You will fall to your knees in near ecstasy when that black mutt that’s been in your program for nearly a year smiles at you as he’s walked out the door by his new owners. You will cry when the dog that was dumped at the kill shelter for having cancer loses her battle, asleep on your bed. But you will thank the powers that be that you get to participate in this crazy ride that is animal rescue, and feel blessed for the ups and downs that now mark your life.

I am a rescue addict, and I am proud to admit it. In fact, it’s the thing I am most proud of about my life. It makes me whole just as it tears me apart. My inner-me has never been so lovely, just as my outer me has never had such a messy house or so many scars. But to save the life of a deserving animal, and give it a second chance, is the greatest accomplishment I can ever claim.

My name is Georgia Cameron, and I am the Vice President of a no-kill, non-breed specific animal rescue in Denver, Colorado. What started on a whim has turned into a full-time job and hobby. Check out NSC Rescue to learn about our organization and find out how you can get involved.

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Even If You Don’t Sleep All Night

By Jim Calder

I am usually a very patient person. Unfortunately, like everyone I have my moments and breaking points. This is going to be a full disclosure blog that may be a bit long.  Last night started off as a decent Friday night, but I had no idea of the events that would follow. The traffic home on a Friday night from work can take an hour and a half on a typical Friday night, and two hours on nights when it rains. However, last night there was no rain, and I got home in a little more than one hour.

6:15- Home from work and in the door.
7:30 - Dinner with my wife
8:30 - Surfing online a bit
9:00 - Some cocktails and unwinding
10:00 - We watched the indie film “The Puffy Chair”, which we would highly recommend.

1:00 am - In bed and out for the night … or so I thought.
3:30 am - My wife wakes me from my snoring and tells me that something is beeping.
3:31 am - I say, “what are you talking about … oh it is the battery in the smoke detector, it needs to be replaced- I will do it in the morning.”
3:35 am - We realize that a loud piercing beep would be continuing for every minute for the rest of the night unless we got up and did something.
3:36 am- I take the battery out of the smoke detector in the bedroom … but we still hear beeping.
3:38 am - I try taking the battery out of the hallway smoke detector, thinking that maybe the batteries went on both of them at the same exact time … but still hear the beeping.
3:40 am - I get a step stool and unhook the smoke detector unit from the ceiling. Exposing the wires in the ceiling … but still we hear the beeping.
3:45 am - I repeat this step in the hallway so that both detectors are completely unhooked and detached from the ceiling … but we still hear beeping.
3:50 am - My calm wife (who has work in the morning) and I search the house for 9 Volt batteries, which of course we had none. Why do smoke detectors have to have these odd shaped batteries?

3:55 am - We dress and decide to head out to a 24hr pharmacy in search of 9 volt batteries.
4:00 am - It is freezing in Philly, and my aging car must warm a bit before heading out. However, the streets are dead quiet. It was as refreshing and calm as the eye of a hurricane as I experienced back in Long Island in the early 1980’s when hurricane Gloria rocked us.
4:10 am - We found a Seven Eleven that was open and Melissa ran in for the batteries.
4:20 am - We get back home and are optimistic that we will soon be asleep again.
4:25 am - I replace the bedroom smoke detector … but the beeping continues.
4:26 am - I hit the reset button, most likely pissing off the neighbors.
4:28 am - I replace the hallway smoke detector battery and hit the reset button … but the beeping continues.
4:30 am - I open the circuit breaker panel in our living room and begin to cut the power to sections of our apartment. I cut out that section where the smoke detectors are … but we still hear the beeping.
4:35 am – I realize that I may have met my match. These smoke detectors are unlike any that I have ever seen or battled before. I felt like there were cameras on me and I was Larry David in an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I imagined grabbing my baseball bat and smashing the ceiling to little pieces. I was completely puzzled and still in an early morning haze. The smoke detectors were wired into the building security system somehow. I had the complete fire detector in my hand yet … the wires in the ceiling were still beeping.

4:36 am - My wife’s patience is completely gone at this point and understandable so. She decides to call our landlords up. She calls them and leaves a message for the morning.

4:38 am – We set up shop to sleep in the living room as we close the bedroom door … but we can still hear the beeping.
4:39 am – I put on the radio to muffle out the sound but my wife and I start to take our frustration out on each other. I thought that smooth Jazz would be a good sleeping soundtrack but she thought it was too big band style.
In the interest of full disclosure I am not going to lie. There was some yelling and finger pointing by both of us.
While I am changing the radio station in the dark I miss the call back from the landlord. The landlord leaves me a message concerned because she half listened to our message and thought the building was on fire or something.
4:40 am - Melissa demands the phone from me and calls the landlord back. She gets her on the phone and explains the situation but they are confused on the other end and frustrate us more by suggesting that we take the battery out of the unit.
4:45 am – I try one last thing, by completely shutting off all power to the apartment on the circuit breaker … but we still hear the beeping. I contemplate calling our local church and getting a priest out to bless our apartment because, there is obviously something unholy going on in this apartment.
5:00 am – Still wide awake the landlord’s husband calls my cell. He says there might be an emergency number to call downstairs in the hallway of the building. But at this hour we decide that we might as well try to tough it out and get a couple hours of sleep and deal with it in the morning.
6:00 am – Melissa and I apologize to one another for taking our frustrations out on each other. With pillows over our heads we drift off and go in and out for the next few hours.

9:00 am - I wake up and can’t sleep. I put a pot of coffee on and start making some calls. The landlord had emailed me the number of the Security company that installed the alarms so I gave them a ring. They told me that I needed a pass code for the building from the landlord to enter into the panel in the first floor of our apartment. I call the landlords but they don’t know the code. I tell the landlord to call the company and get the code. The landlord calls me back with a code. I go down and try the code … but we still hear the beeping!

10:30 am – I attempt to salvage the weekend a little bit; I make some awesome pancakes for us. Melissa takes a shot at calling the alarm company; they tell her that a technician will be calling us back.
11:00 am - I talk to a tech and he tells me that my landlord has to call and make a service call appointment, that as the tenant I cannot do it. I call the landlord and tell him that they said that he has to call to set it up. While still staying calm, I tell the landlord that I need him to do whatever he can to get someone out here today or we will be staying in a hotel tonight and it will be coming out of what we pay him for this month’s rent. He agrees to do whatever he can.

12:00 pm - A new technician named Roger, who is very calm and polite, calls me and asks me about the problem. I explain and tell him how the beeping is coming from the wires. He tells me this is impossible and I explain that I realize this, but it is happening. He asks where my Carbon Monoxide detector is located. The carbon monoxide detector is a standalone battery powered unit that is sitting three feet away from the smoke detector, on the windowsill.

I start to feel really dumb right about now and voice it to my new pal Roger. The carbon monoxide detector is showing a digital symbol that means batteries are dead. I take them out with Roger still on the phone and … THE BEEPING FINALLY STOPS! Ironically the sound from the smoke detector is the same sound that the carbon monoxide detector makes.

I tell Roger how stupid I feel and he replies, “don’t feel bad Jimmy, this same thing happened to me once and I am a professional.” He ended the conversation by saying … “Have a great afternoon Jimmy.”

Thanks Roger, I intend to do just that, but maybe after a nap. Even though I can still hear the beeping a little bit in my head, I know it will stop soon.

If there is a moral to this story I feel it might be to never take your frustrations out on your loved ones, no matter how sleep deprived, pissed off or frustrated you may get … the beeping is eventually going to stop.

PS: I may not be as bright as I thought I was 24 hours earlier, but I am bright enough to end by saying that I love you Melissa and I am sorry.

Jim Calder is the brand architect and co-founder of ProLong Magazine. Jim was born with the perfect combination of cockiness and self consciousness. He has over 10 years of publishing industry experience and lives and works in Philadelphia, Pa. He currently can be found on the greatest adventure of his life as a newlywed with his wife Melissa. Jim can be contacted via email at jim@prolongmagazine.com

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The Tale of My Imaginary Boyfriend

By: Karina Reeves

Like any child growing up in the 1970’s, I adored Sesame Street. But one thing always bothered me: why were Big Bird’s pals always just missing his best friend, Snuffleupagus I didn’t understand that he was Big Bird’s imaginary friend. I thought they must just have bad timing.

Fast forward 30 years and springtime had just thrown me my own Snuffleupagus. It all began on the dating website plentyoffish.com. I was browsing to see what kind of single men were located near me in New Jersey, using it as my Internet catalog of potential suitors. One day, while perusing my”catalog” I received an email from a very cute New Jersey guy who said he was hurt and disappointed when he saw I had viewed his profile but chose to move on without a word. I don’t know what it was about that email or profile but I couldn’t resist sending a saucy reply. And so our little mating dance was born. Little could I have known how something so spontaneous and simple could end up being anything but simple.

Ron was 36 and worked in the mortgage industry. He was funny, smart and I couldn’t wait to meet him in person. Almost immediately, I couldn’t remember what my life was like before he touched it. He became the first person I spoke to each morning and the last one I spoke to each night.

As we got to know each other, he told me he was up for a promotion and wanted to wait a little before meeting in person. Usually this would be a deal breaker but I was drunk on that romantic springtime air, so I went along. I broke my Internet dating rule, which says if I don’t have a face-to-face meeting after 5 conversations (whether texts, emails or phone calls) then I say goodbye because we’re wasting each other’s time. It doesn’t matter the reason because the bottom line is that the person is obviously not serious about meeting me.

With each text, email and phone call, time progressed—as did our feelings. Yes, there were red flags here and there but the good feelings were so good I told the doubts to “shut the hell up”. I’m guessing it became an addiction that I couldn’t live without anymore. Our conversations were so constant that often times I wondered how either of us got anything done but that kind of intensity can’t last forever. Ron sent the first “good-bye” email saying that we shouldn’t talk anymore because I deserved more than what he was willing to give me. It wasn’t fair to me and I wholeheartedly agreed. On paper it read more like a love letter than a good-bye and made me cry, but he was right—I did deserve more but I had hoped the “more” would come from him. It felt like such a complete cop out and I grieved for what could have been. Why was he ending it? Because he might have to relocate across the country if he got this great promotion? Who cares? I would be thrilled for him and would be fine taking it slow and seeing where these feelings could take us, even in a long-distance relationship. But it wasn’t fine with him. I moped around through the horrible springtime days with their fragrant flowers and disgusting blue skies hoping this rotten mood wouldn’t last forever.

Three days hadn’t gone by when Ron contacted me asking how I was. He was miserable and realized he was falling in love with me. I was ashamed to admit it but I felt the same way but that’s completely crazy! We couldn’t be falling in love! We had yet to meet in person. I had finally met a man that I could be myself with…except at that moment I wasn’t able to throw myself into his arms and revel in this news. Now that he has realized he’s fallen for me he had to meet me, right?

Wrong! After a month of more than 1,000 text messages, countless calls and emails I began to ask him the same question. I began to push and apparently one night I pushed too hard. He was pissed. HE was pissed?!!! What about ME? This time I wrote the love letter, I mean good-bye email. He replied with an “I love you but you deserve better.” Again, very true! And again, after a couple days Ron contacted me to say he missed me. The dance began again. Well, no one can say I’m not an optimist. They could say I’m naive (and, probably have) but, I thought we had a chance.

I was 37 years old and had been alone for a long time not unhappily but felt it would be nice to have someone in my life. I thought a little time with Ron was worth more than a lot of time with anyone else. He didn’t believe me. He said that the women in his life had said the same thing but hadn’t meant it. Well, not me. Anyone who knows me knows that I would rather be alone than with the wrong person. My mother always said that there are worse fates than being alone and she (as usual) is right. I told him real relationships were about compromise but apparently I was the only one willing to do so.

I hoped he would find out about the promotion soon because my patience and understand were nearing their end. Then one day he called very upset. He got the promotion and leaving New Jersey for the beaches of San Diego. He shared how he has worked his whole life to get here but didn’t understand why it didn’t hold the joy he thought it would. (Oh, I know you hear the swell of music but don’t get too excited.) He was committed to his plan and even love wouldn’t lead him off course. He cried as he delivered that news as if to let me know that it hurt him just as much as it did me. Because of the promotion he was emphatic never to meet because it would ruin everything. He would be a “goner” (his word) and trash his plan. Was I just slapped in the face or am I just that powerful a force? He loved me so of course, I would ruin his life. Who knew I had that kind of power? I felt confused and lost.

Inevitably, I began asking myself the usual questions: How did I get here? How could I have let myself get into this situation? It seemed so cliche. Who would have imagined a person could truly fall in love with someone they had never met, never touched, never would meet, never would touch, never would kiss? Not me. The ache I felt to see and touch him was nothing compared to the pain I felt knowing that he never really loved me (or, at least not enough) and that I had to let whatever this was…go. How is it possible that I had a broken heart if we’d never met? Sometimes I still ask myself that question when he pops into my mind.

You see, meeting through the Internet begins quite harmlessly. It’s safe, fun, uncomplicated and can quickly become a set-up for heartbreak. It allows you to feel open and free with the ability to truly be yourself because you’re behind that virtual wall. As we get older we tend to guard ourselves more when we are out in the face-to-face dating world but lose all common sense when browsing the Internet catalog of dating. I know I’m not the only person that fell head over heels for a Snuffleupagus.

I learned many things from my experience with my imaginary boyfriend. Even though I wasn’t seriously looking for a relationship somehow this man made me want to see where the journey would take me and it was fun (at least at first). I entered the experience honestly and with the truest intentions. Ron? I can’t speak for him. I can only speak for myself and some of the thoughts I’ve had over the past year. Yes, possibly this was just a game to him but for what purpose? I could torture myself thinking that the countless times he had told me he loved me were lies, but why? Is it so wrong to cherish the sweet and beautiful words he spoke and wrote to me? What good would it do to doubt what he had said to me? We wrote each other thousands of texts, emails that read like love letters and had sweet phone calls that lasted hours. I prefer to think what we shared was beautiful and so right in so many ways but not for what either of us needed or wanted at that moment in time—but it does not lessen the importance of it in our lives.

What do I feel about my Snuffleupagus a year later, as the aphrodisiac of spring re-emerges? Do I still love him? Am I still broken-hearted? As unbelievable as it probably sounds I did truly love him and the experience changed me. The one thing that I will tell you is that I love myself a hell of a lot more than before Ron entered my world. That’s the true love story here. Living through this bizarre love affair made me realize the love for me had to come from within myself before it could ever be found with someone else. I fell in love with myself and that will be a love that will never hurt me.

If I could tell Ron anything today it would that he was right. I do deserve more and the man that eventually catches me will be a very lucky man!

Karina Reeves has been a Marketing professional for over 15 years.  She now is turning some of that time toward her writing with humor, grace and a style that is all her own. Karina can be reached atkarinareeves@yahoo.com

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Overcome Grief By Strengthening Your Heart Chakra

By Alicia Parks

It’s been nearly a decade since I broke up with my boyfriend. Well, actually it’s been more like 8 months, but it’s certainly felt like an eternity. As time continues to pass and the wounds struggle to heal I’m becoming impatient with how long it’s taking to just get over it already! Is there a cure for a broken heart – other than time?

Strengthening Heart Chakras

There are the temporary fixes: ice cream, drinks with friends, a shopping spree (be it electronics or clothes), more drinks, more ice cream, and the random cute rebound. Or, the less than classy approach: angrily cutting up the pictures, burning gift and mementos into a roaring bonfire hoping the smoke will cloud the present and blur the past.

Then today in yoga, the instructor focused on the heart chakra. We moved through a series of heart openers to create space in the heart center: space to give and receive love. By my third back bend I had lost it. I gave in and let the tears flow. I felt a sudden moment of peace for the first time in months.

The heart chakra is the center of our harmony. When this energy point is balanced we feel loved and able to give love more freely. When this energy is imbalanced we feel closed off to love. The body can actually physically begin to draw more inward to close off and protect the heart center when this energy is low. However, when this energy point is balanced the heart center will open and the sternum will lift, shoulders will draw back thus allowing the energy to flow more openly.

Chakras are seven energy points within the body from the tail bone to the crown of the head. Each point is a spinning wheel of energy and depending if the energy is low, high or balanced, the spinning wheel will either be low and small, or increasingly fast and large.

The first chakra resonates at the base of the spine and is the color red. This is the center for being grounded. The second is the center for nourishment and is housed near the genitals below the navel. Its color is orange. Next is the yellow energy wheel in the solar plexus and the center for intention. The heart center is a green color. Above that is the throat chakra which is blue in color and where we find expression. The third-eye point , insight, is purple in color or depending on text could be a light blue color. Finally, the crown chakra-believed by some to be a white or clear energy or a purple color is where enlightenment, wisdom or higher spiritual knowledge is housed.

Since chakra energy is simply about finding balance, when our heart chakra is suffering from heart-ache, loss, grief or a recent breakup, perhaps focusing on charging this energy could be an alternative to time. Though many of us seek quick fixes to pain or inconvenience, a lesson in patience could be welcomed relief.

After a series of yoga classes in which I continued to focus more on the heart center through spine-strengthening sequences like cobra, locust and floor-bow to heart openers like camel and backbends I was able to let more and more go each time. Though I still have some healing to do, I believe very much that I gained a huge edge on my path to healing my heart. We may never fully understand why some relationships work and some don’t but at least there’s another option to healing.

Heart Openers

There are several beautiful options in yoga for opening the heart center. It’s simply a matter of leading with the heart, strengthening the core and spine and releasing tension hidden in the neck and shoulders. The simplest way to open the heart is proper posture-ensuring that shoulders are drawn away from the ears and down the back while pulling the naval to the spine (engaging the core).

In a standing series, taking a slight backbend while in Tadasana (Mountain Pose) is a simple and gentle option. Backbends are an effective way to open the heart as well as bring a bounty of energy into the body (which is why heart openers are best served in the morning and not before bed).

My breakthrough heart opener was in Urdhva Dhanurasana (wheel) and my continuous challenging heart opener is Ustrasana (Camel). It’s important to ensure the body is properly warmed up before engaging in heart openers since these poses require good core and spine strength. Opening the hips first (with poses such as Eka Pada Rajakasana (Pigeon)) will allow a more gentle and deeper benefit from heart openers. Other options include Dhanurasana (Bow Pose), Setu Bandha Sarvangasana (Bridge Pose), Bitilasana (Cow Pose), Matsyasana (Fish Pose), Salambhasana (Locust Pose), Bhujangasana (Cobra Pose) and even Urdva Mukha Svanasana (Upward Facing Dog).

For a gentle sequence after waking I recommend beginning with a few Sun Salutations starting with Balasana (Child’s Pose) moving on to Cat-Cow movement and on to plank pose. From there draw back to Audo Mukha Svanasana (Downward Facing Dog). Take a few deep breaths through the nose and slowly arrive to Uttanasana (forward fold). Slowing arrive to Tadasana (Mountain Pose) and take a gentle back bend. Release to Uttanasana then back to Tadasana with a back bend and flow through this a few times. From Uttanasana step back to high plank pose again and then release all the way to the ground on the belly. Inhale into Bhujangasana (Cobra Pose). Exhale to release and then inhale into Salambhasana (Locust Pose). Exhale to release and flow through these two poses a few more times. Take time between each movement and then release back Balasana (Child’s Pose) to focus on the breath and the energy in the heart chakra. Come back to Cat-Cow movement and then come to standing on knees. Close the sequence with a long, slow flow into Ustrasana (Camel) pose. Take up to six full inhalations and exhalations before letting go and slowly find a seat with eyes closed. Absorb the energy created and released around the heart center. Acknowledge any emotions that may have come up and know that which no longer serves no longer has a hold on the heart center.

“Learn, grow, live… And then write about it!” Alicia started her path to wellness and environmental leadership at Wild Oats, following college graduation with a degree in journalism. Her passion for natural living, environment, and wellness set the foundation for a future with Aveda where she is currently a marketing manager and manages the yoga program for staff and students. She is a certified yoga instructor and received her training through Core Power. Her favorite pose is handstand, though she is still working on mastering it. Her writing is a continuous practice, much like yoga, and began when she published her first book at age 12 called, “What Mothers and Fathers Do Best.” She is a proud mother of a 6-year-old boy, Tyler, the source for her inspiration to live in the moment-be mindful-be gracious and flow. Tyler is currently publishing one book a week, his latest being the “ABC of Animals.”

Read Alicia’s other article, “Getting Back to the Yoga Mat“.

A Look At An Old New Chapter of Love

Elle Mathews

I was fresh out of high school and ready for a new chapter in my life. Most of my friends went away to college but I chose community college for the first two years. I wanted to save money plus I didn’t have a clue where I wanted to go yet. There were many things I didn’t expect when I started this new chapter in my life. I didn’t expect the classes, especially community college, to be harder than high school or that I wouldn’t easily make friends. I didn’t expect that I would change majors and I certainly didn’t expect to be in a two year relationship. During high school, I didn’t study half as much as I did, I had a good amount of friends and my relationships were two boyfriends in 10th and 11th grades that both lasted about three months.

My new life chapter ended up being a lonely and confusing time but my newest HE was there to pick up the pieces. In the beginning the relationship was new and exciting. He took me out to dinner practically every other night. He would buy things for me that I didn’t ask for and we went to places that I never had been. He showed me how wonderful someone could be treated. But then after awhile, something happened. I began to see we were on two different paths in our lives. Even though he was only three years older then me, (he was 21 and I was 18) he was a couple of stages ahead of me in his life and it started to show. He was finished with college, had a decent job and made decent money. Plus he made extra money working some weekends at a local store. I had just started college, had a part time job and struggled to even pay my tuition. He established himself by the age of 21 and I had no idea what my future held. We tried to find things in common. He thought my friends were immature. I thought his friends were boring. When I went to parties with my friends, I would get lectured about underage drinking. Then I started relying on him for too much. He melted away my problems, fixed anything that was broken and bought me anything that I wanted but couldn’t afford. He even got me a part time job where he worked on the weekends. I convinced myself that I needed him to do almost everything for me to the point where I felt vulnerable without him.

I look back at this now and I don’t believe his intentions were to belittle or control me but to secure his place in the relationship. He was trying to prove to me that I needed him and he succeeded. He wanted so much for my affection that I feel he took it too far. After he broke up with me, my confidence and independence were shattered and it took me awhile to get them back. I learned to never rely that much on a person again. Because life is full of trials and tribulations, I must experience them to live. I just don’t have to do it alone.

The ironic part of it all was that in the end he cheated on me with a “friend” that we both worked with at the store. They were engaged within a couple of months. Working there was a daily reminder of what he did to me until I went away to college six months later. I was humiliated in front of all my coworkers and I went through one of the hardest experiences of my life. The one person who would give me the world for my affection became the one person that hurt me the most.

Elle Mathews is currently trying to break into a field that fits her interests and inventive mind. She has a passion for the performing arts, writing, video editing/TV production and creativity. She can’t get enough of beautiful scenery and wants to see the world. Elle is experienced at dating and online dating and has much to share with our readers. Elle is always up for learning and trying new experiences.

We Still Had Fun Before All of This Technology Hit

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I’m watching television on my parents 25-inch console television, which is by and large considered huge in size and doubles as a piece of furniture with the nicely fitted wood trim and speaker cloth framing both sides. I do this by pulling a singular knob out to turn the power on. Its got a grainy picture with mediocre sound quality and when one show is over someone has to get up and walk over to the set to turn the knob to change the channel. Incredibly no one seems to mind this task, which repeats itself through out the day.

Every morning my sugar laden milk bowl that once contained my fruit loops or my sugar puffs has turned a funky pink color as I watch the Flintstones, yogi bear, magilla gorilla, and the Jetsons. Occasionally in the early morning or at the end of the day a test pattern appears on the screen in the form of a series of circles with an Indian chief in the center of the screen while emitting an oddly mesmerizing whistle. Commercials interrupt the shows sporadically and we watch them with the same interest as you would the programs.

Our furnace has heating grates that lay horizontal to the floor and they serve my sisters well as they open the wrapper on a Hershey’s chocolate bar and let it rest on the opening until it melts to the desired square of goo. Mom always seems to be out in the kitchen cooking meals, which happen everyday at precisely the same time. Breakfast is as soon as you wake up, supper is always at 5 p.m. and Sunday dinner is 1 p.m. This routine never changes and your social life revolves around this and not vice versa. Sunday dinner is always pasta with chicken or roast and potatoes and salad. Always.

Dad is out working as he is the only bread winner in the family. When you didn’t feel like watching television you turned on the transistor radio, which was about the size of a loaf of bread and when you turned the dial for another station (you received about three) it would snap,crackle, and pop like your cereal did. The days were comfortably long and you savored it as it seemed to last forever.

I look outside and see the milkman leaving the porch having deposited two fresh glass bottles of milk in our silver insulated square receptacle, which we leave on our front porch for that very reason until we are able to retrieve them. I’m asked to go get some groceries from the local store that is family owned and seemingly on every block. They ask you what you want by your name and you put your bill on a house tab.

Outside we are playing stick ball or burn the base or kick the can or riding our bikes. We were always outdoors until your dad whistled for you to come home and they each had their own distinct call so that there was no confusion. Your phone was black, with a rotary dial and was attached to a wall or sat on a table. It remained in the house. If someone tries to reach you they would call the number and if you didn’t answer, it meant that you weren’t home and they would try again later. There was no message to leave, and no machine to leave it on.

You want to watch a movie? Great, you walk several blocks to downtown to one of two movie theatre’s and you choose which one.

I’m suddenly transported from the mid sixties to the year 2010. I’m watching television on my 58-inch high def flat screen Televison. It takes me seven steps to turn my T.V. on with my state of the art universal remote that replaced my previous fourteen that I had to use. I never move as I peruse the four million channels available to me at the press of a button but yet I complain that there’s nothing on.

Meals are random as time permits. Grocery shopping is done at a big chain with hordes of people roaming about and ultimately waiting in long lines while the shoppers ahead of you sort through their expired coupons as you bristle because you’re in a hurry. You always seem to be in a hurry. The kids, they never leave the house. They glam onto the Internet or play game after game after game until their senses are dulled to a nub and then say they are bored.

You can reach someone immediately with a cell phone, twitter, facebook, or myspace. You can google any information you need on any subject. You can watch a movie without leaving the house with on demand or netflix. You can pay your bills online instantly and without effort. You can shop with a credit card from your sofa.

Everything comes to you faster, more efficient and in an easier manner. We want it, we want it now, and we get it. So tell me with all this technology that allows us to have instant gratification why are we more impatient now than ever?

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life,been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.