* 50 Shades of BenGay

35 years ago I finished graduate school and promptly took a job as a flight attendant, much to the chagrin of my mother. When I told her of my plans she slowly peered at me over the top rim of her glasses one eyebrow raised. She then dryly predicted I would be bored stiff within months as the job was akin to slinging hash at 35 thousand feet in a tin can. But, being stubborn like my mother when her mind was made up, I left for training. After six months I had to concede that, as usual, Mother was right and I felt mentally and creatively unchallenged.  Problem was, I moved lock stock and barrel to NYC and was virtually penniless with few other options for acting employment. Truth be known, one reason I choose New York was that I was sure I going to go be discovered  as the newest greatest talent… I mean, I was a grand dame on stage at MSU -  why would I not be on Broadway?  HA!! Reality hits hard some times. 1984. Those were the days before cell phones and unlimited data.  Act

With age comes; grey hairs, knowing the back store places to buy real Olive Oil, and a bit of wisdom…if one is lucky. I am constantly amazed at the providential prosperities afforded to me in life as my theological roots don’t support that concept. Being brought up MS Lutheran, there was always this deep seated fear that a flaming pitchfork would come hurling down from the heavens at any given moment I was doing, (or even thinking), something less than godly. Actually I don’t think that message came from my dad in the pulpit, but rather from my mother. I remember her telling me some friends invited them to a nightclub dinner back in the 1960’s. No one knew it was a topless review. She said she was sweating bullets and praying without ceasing during the entire performance that God would not choose that particular moment to announce Judgment Day. The supreme ‘gotcha’ moment as she knew that meant she would go to straight to hell. I asked her if she didn’t think God would cut her a l