A Desert Dive Bar Adventure

by Bob Sparrow

The Lunch Spot: You meet the strangest people. It’s 100 degrees and this guy in line is in a long, dark trench coat, long pants and a hat!!

Linda and I just spent the last three days of our timeshare in the desert a weekend ago; it was the fifth or sixth time we visited the desert in the last two months – it’s like we’ve become ‘snow birds’. We’ve spent time out there this year with both golfing and non-golfing friends, but apparently, we ran out of both as we spent our last weekend with just the two of us. It predictably meant that we were going to have to talk to each other.

We did talk and decided that we’d make the weekend a pursuit of previously unvisited by us, hole-in-the-wall, places to dine and drink. Typically when we check in at the Marriott Desert Springs around noon, they tell us our room isn’t ready so we usually go to Cactus Jack’s for lunch and wait for our room, but this time we were switching it up, so I Googled hole-in-the-wall lunch places and found The Lunch Spot, tucked amongst several industrial buildings, where we both had a pretty good sandwich and although the place seemed hidden from the public, it was packed!

Linda getting ready to be disappointed by Cocina de Mama Margarita for not having Margaritas!

But they served no alcohol, so after we finished our sandwiches, we decided we’d find a place to get a margarita; we were told to go to the Cocina de Mama Margarita, which was not too far away. We found it, walked in and ordered two margaritas and the bar tender said they didn’t have margaritas!! “But your name is Cocina de Mama MARGARITA!!!” He started speaking Spanish, and we realized we weren’t going to get a margarita, so we left.

Our quest for a margarita, which we now wanted more than ever, brought us to Fresh Agave on Highway 111, we walked in and asked, “Do you have margaritas?”  “Si” We sat down.

The bevy of beautiful blondes we sat with at the bar at Tommy Bahama’s. I particularly liked the one on the left!

It was now getting near ‘Happy Hour’ and while we wanted to keep this as hole-in-the-wall only, just weeks ago when we were here, we had a slider and a Mai Tai at Tommy Bahama’s that was to die for, so instead of going into the ‘Hideout’, which was right next to Tommy’s and seemed like a perfect place for this adventure, we walked right by and found a seat at the bar at Tommy’s. “Sliders and Mai Tais, please.”

Saturday, we played golf, which thankfully kept us out of the bars for 4-5 hours, but after golf we continued our quest and hit the Little Bar, and it was indeed a little bar, so we spent little time – one drink and out. “What a hole-in-the-wall!” Oh yeah, that’s what we were looking for!!

Little Bar filled with big people

To end the evening we decided that we had had enough ‘adventure’ for the day, so decided to hit an old favorite, Cactus Jacks. We had dinner and a cocktail and headed home, well, our ‘home in the desert’!

For Sunday morning breakfast we had been told by friends to try the Palms Café, a place we’d never been, so we plugged it into our GPS and ended up at Rancho Las Palmas Hotel in Rancho Mirage. We walked throughout the hotel lobby looking for the restaurant which we found out back by the pool.  But it was only a grab and go sandwich place. We were sure this wasn’t the place that was recommended by our friends, but across the patio was a breakfast place where we could sit with views of the pool and golf course.  As we were having breakfast there, I plugged Palm’s Café into my GPS again and found 4-5 different Palm Cafes in the area. Maybe we’ll try to hit the right one next time!

Beautiful view of golf course and pool, but wrong Palms Cafe!

Since the temperatures were around 100, we decided we’d cool off in Agua Caliente Casino – we got, and remained cold, as we made a nice donation to our native American friends.

Finished a great round of bar-hopping at The 19th Hole

By talking to strangers we met in these random bars and restaurants, we’d always ask them about their favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant/bar and several people mentioned The 19th Hole in Palm Desert, which advertises itself as ‘hidden gem dive bar’.  Perfect! So we headed there for dinner. Good fish and chips, cold beer and fun ‘people watching’.

Famous fams of The 19th Hole

Bottom line on the ‘desert dive bar tour’: Great fun, good change of pace, met and talked to various, interesting people from across the U.S. and Canada and found a few places we’d go back to.

COMFORT AND JOY WITH A TERRORIST

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

His first day home

One year ago today I brought my new puppy home. I named him Dashing Doolin, which was a nod to my former dog, Dash, and Doolin, one of my favorite towns in Ireland. I nicknamed him Dooley, which I thought sounded very playful and cute. Cavalier King Charles Spaniels are known as the “comfort spaniels”, bred to sit quietly and lovingly by their owner. So, I envisioned a similar experience to that which I had with Dash the Wonder Dog – mellow, lots of naps (him), endless amounts of time to live a normal life (me). I was wrong. Very wrong. I swear Dooley is part Jack Rusell Terrier. Right from the jump he required lots of activity and almost all of my attention. My idea of keeping him occupied was to throw a ball. His was to nip my arms, toes and ear lobes. Or chew on the throw pillows. Or scratch the front window, begging to go chase birds, bunnies and every errant leaf that blew by. Although he had some of the same lineage as Dash, it soon became apparent that Dooley is a very different dog.

The “convict”

I’d like to say that the last year has been one of happiness and fun. But I’d be lying. What was I thinking getting a puppy in my mid-70’s? I have been frustrated, tearful and ready to give up more times that I can count. I jokingly referred to him as “the terrorist” because my life was dictated by him. In truth, it wasn’t such a joke. At least once a week I gave serious consideration as to whether he might be better placed with a young family with a very large backyard. For six months I enrolled him in training classes, in which he excelled. He was the perfect student and his instructors remarked about how quickly he caught on to commands. But turns out I had a little Eddie Haskell on my hands – a kiss-up around other adults and a complete menace at home. For Halloween last year I dressed him up as a convict for our community’s pet costume contest and several people mentioned how appropriate his outfit was. In other words, he had a “rep”. His saving grace was that he loves to “smoosh”, an activity where he jumps up and practically smothers me while laying his head on my head. It’s his version of a hug and although he doesn’t know it, that gesture kept him in my good graces.

Finally, when I was truly at my wit’s end, my friend Joan referred me to her trainer, Tammy Verhas. I took him for lessons twice and at the end of the second session she said, “You know, I think he might benefit from boot camp.” I think when a professional tells you your dog needs to go to military school it’s best to listen. So, the first week of November he went to “camp” for three weeks. I was able to get him home a couple of days before Thanksgiving and at first, I thought she’d switched out dogs on me. The dog she brought me was a perfectly behaved, obedient dog. Surely this couldn’t be Dooley?! Tammy and I had a long talk about his behavior. Turns out I was leading with affection, versus establishing some element of respect. I guess I had a “rep” too. In my defense, she told me he was the most intelligent and high-energy Cavalier she’d ever trained.

It’s been almost perfect since then. He is definitely smarter than me and knows when I’m in a weakened state and not up to being as strict as I should. That’s when he decides to pull on the leash or jump up on visitors. But generally, he is now a really good boy. And I have to say that at night, when he is snuggled up next to my pillow or curled up next to my stomach, there isn’t a better feeling in the world. Now, I don’t know what I’d do without him to keep me company. As Tammy told me, sometimes we get the dog we need, not the dog we want. As I’ve found out, it’s even better when we get both.

A Couch Potatoe’s Take on the Olympics Highlights

by Bob Sparrow

Sweden Women Win Gold

If I thought I was going to get off the couch because football had ended, I was sadly mistaken – the Olympics have kept me firmly planted in front of the boob tube. And for whatever reason I always seem to turn on the TV when curling is going on, which was quite often. Being raised in California, I never curled, never heard of curling until recently, and after watching it for hours, I’m still not sure of all the rules, although it’s somehow magnetizing. I don’t fully understand it, but it seems like shuffleboard on ice, but not exactly. Watching men and women from all over the world curl, I wondered how they first became interested in seeing how accurate they are at sliding a rock on a sheet of ice. And while they were inventing the game they said, “Hey, let’s add a person or two with a broom to sweep a path on the ice for the rock to follow.”

I’ve learned that Canada had a very strong curling team and in fact, won the men’s gold medal this year, beating Great Britian. Really? Great Britian?!! I would have thought that countries like Norway, Finland and Sweden, where there is lots of ice, would be in there somewhere, although the game was invented in Scotland.

Biathlon – the natural pairing of skiing and shooting

But curling isn’t the only ‘unusual’ sport in the Winter Olympics – it’s like a committee sat down and thought about all the things one could do in the snow and on the ice and said, “Hey, let’s create some games out of this stuff and call it the Winter Olympics.” One of the first games they thought of was the biathlon, which would combine two things that naturally go together, cross country skiing and shooting a rifle! This year’s Olympics added a new sport, Ski Mountaineering, or ‘Skimo’ as it’s called, where one climbs up a mountain, either on skis or on foot carrying skis and then skis down the mountain. A woman from Switzerland and a man from Spain won the gold this year. I was on the edge of my seat!

There was of course all kinds of sledding, including ‘skeleton’, which seems like a fairly scary name for a sledding event. Sledding events include one and two person sledders either headfirst or feetfirst – perhaps going down sideways may be added in years to come.  Basically, all the sledding is just man or woman against gravity – gravity always wins.

Skeleton vs gravity

Probably one of the most interesting ‘outdoor’ sports at the Olympics is on the ‘half pipe’ with lots of turns, spins and flips with an occasional interesting crash landing. Practicing to perfect those moves has to be very painful, but fun to watch!

Aside from speed skating, which, to me, is just people going around in circles, the indoor sports, like hockey and figure skating hold the most interest.  The U.S. did win gold this year in hockey, with a dramatic overtime win over archrival Canada – but since players from both teams play in the NHL, for me, it loses a little something relative to the original amateur spirit of the Olympics. Although, being an amateur was eliminated from a lot of Olympic sports years ago.

France’s gold medal winners, Beaudry and Cizeron

I think the highest bar for performance in the Winter Olympics is in the pair ice dancing. France took the gold, U.S. took the silver and Canada took the bronze. The amount of time and skill required to coordinate all the jumps, spins and dance moves that make it look so graceful and effortless, is amazing.

But, now the Olympics are over and I guess I need to get into college basketball and wait for ‘March Madness’. Or, maybe turn off the TV and enjoy some of our great outdoor weather. Nah, March Madness is only about three weeks away – I think I can make it back on the couch by then!    

THE HEART OF COMPROMISE

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

I fixed their logo

As you read this post you may think that I’m trying to eke out one more story about football, but really, I consider this a public service announcement. When the hoopla of the Super Bowl died down last week, sports journalists who were not covering the Olympics began to focus on next year’s Super Bowl. While they speculated about next year’s favorites (the Rams, Seahawks, Bills and Eagles) they skipped the most salient fact: next year the Super Bowl will be played on Valentine’s Day. If you think that is unusual, you’re right. The Super Bowl has never been on Valentine’s Day. The closest the game has ever come to wrecking relationships around the world was in 2022, when Super Bowl LVI was played on Feb. 13. But next year, due to the expanded schedule, the season has been extended one week, which is going to cause a lot of problems in households where one member is a fanatic, and one only watches the broadcast to see the commercials.

After all, Valentine’s Day is considered to be one of the most romantic days of the year. It is the busiest day of the year for florists, while candy and card sales go through the roof. Many a spouse has been given the cold shoulder if the day is not commemorated. To illustrate just how romantic the day is viewed, in the United States alone an average of 220,000 people get engaged every year on Valentine’s Day. It is thought to be the perfect day on which to propose, and many young people go to great lengths to tie the Valentine’s theme into popping the question. Somehow, I think next year’s proposals may lose some of the romance usually associated with “popping the question”. It will have to occur between downs but not interfere with a commercial, while trying not to drop the ring in the guacamole dip. I’m not sure any young woman grows up thinking that she will be competing with a Budweiser commercial for the most heartfelt moment of her special day.

To further complicate the situation, there are approximately 15-20,000 weddings that take place each year on Valentine’s Day. Forget about the fact that forevermore those couples will have to fight for dinner reservations and will be subject to overpriced fixed-prix menus on their anniversaries. The specific problem next year lies not with the bride and groom, who let’s face it, would not have scheduled their wedding on Super Bowl Sunday if they were fans. The problem is the cascading one faced by the invitees, especially if their favorite team is playing. People will be scrambling for excuses as to why they can’t attend, or perhaps there will be a lot of married people who attend alone while their spouse is at home watching the game, hands clutching a beer, perplexed as to why anyone would schedule a wedding on such an important day. I foresee a lot of arguments about “priorities” in the offing.

The only silver lining in the Super Bowl being pushed back a week is that next year it also coincides with President’s Day weekend. The day after the Super Bowl has long been one of the least productive days in the workforce so the good news is that next year everyone will officially be able to take off work on Super Bowl Monday. Perhaps that will give them time to look up the name of a good marriage counselor. I have a feeling a lot of people are going to need one. Just don’t say I didn’t give you plenty of warning.

Lack of Gridiron in the Diet

by Bob Sparrow

I’m trying to make the transition . . . wait, NO I’m not ‘transitioning’, I’m simply trying to transition from watching football 4-5 days a week to watching football zero days a week FOR THE NEXT SEVEN MONTHS!!!. This is not going to be easy! I thought the college football season ended in Cinderella-like fashion with the Curt Cignetti-led Indiana Hoosiers winning their first ever National Championship behind Heisman Trophy winning quarterback, Fernando Mendosa. Great stuff!!

I’m writing this before the Super Bowl, so I’ll have no highlights of the game (hopefully there will be highlights), the commercials (they could be more entertaining than the game) or the half-time performance (which has already caused some controversy). I will write the end of the blog after the game – I’m sure I’ll have a pithy comment or two.

Jordon Hundson and Bill Belichick

For me the Super Bowl is less Cinderella and more Ursula, the half-woman, half-octopus, from The Little Mermaid. I know, I’m bummed because the 49ers didn’t make it, nor did any of the other California teams, the Ram or the Chargers. I realize there was a West Coast team in the Super Bowl, and there was a West Coast player in quarterback, Sam Darnold, who is a San Clemente, Orange County guy; but my Pete Carroll hangover, and the fact that the Seahawks kicked the 49ers out of the playoffs this year, made it hard for me to root for them. But I’m not particularly a New England fan either. Haven’t we all been exposed to enough Patriot history this past year with 74-year-old, ex-coach, Bill Belichick canoodling with his 24-year-old girlfriend, plus having to listen to Tom Brady’s pedantic color-commentating? I digress. I do like Patriot quarterback Drake Maye and if the Patriots won, Mike Vrabel is the only person to win the Super Bowl as a player, an assistant coach and a head coach – but you probably heard all that if you watched the game.

The Super Bowl doesn’t just mark the end of football season, Super Bowl parties officially mark the end of my New Year’s Resolutions – way too much eating, drinking and weight gaining! As they say in sports . . . ‘Wait ’til next year’!

My usual remedy for ‘Lackofgridiron’ in my diet or Couch Potato Syndrome, is trying to pretend that PGA golf is just as exciting . . . it isn’t! But this year we have a one-step program to help bridge the gap between football and . . . next year’s football – the Winter Olympics.  This year’s Olympics are coming to us from Milan and picturesque Cortina d’Ampezzo, which is often called the ‘Queen of the Dolomites’ – part of the northern Italian Alps. Beautiful! So, forget about ‘Off Sides’, ‘Safety Blitz’ and ‘Roughing the Passer’ and start thinking of Double Axles, Moguls and “Gosh it looks cold over there.”

Much as we try to get away from politics, and one would think that the Olympics should be a good place to do that, this year we find that Russia is banned from competing due to their invasion of Ukraine. However, Russian athletes, who voice to the Olympic Committee that they do not support the war, can compete as ‘Individual Neutral Athletes’ – no Russian flag ceremony if they win, but back home they will face Russian roulette if they lose.

Post Super Bowl notes:

The Game: I can’t really comment on the game, it was so boring in the first half I fell asleep. The Commercials: For a cost of between $8 – $10 million dollars for 30 seconds, I was expecting more – pretty blah. The Prop bets: I had a tip that the Gatorade was going to be purple, so I bet it big . . . it was green. The Half Time Show: My Spanish is a little weak, so I’m still trying to translate Bad Bunny’s song. Nah, I was still sleeping.

WE CAN PUT A MAN ON THE MOON…

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

…but we can’t find a cure for the common cold? How long have we been saying that? Probably since July 20,1969, when the Lunar Module Eagle first touched down on the Sea of Tranquility. After that monumental achievement every other goal seemed like it should be easily solved. Thus, the phrase, “we can put a man on the moon, but we can’t (fill in the blank)” began to be used for every frustrating problem we seemed incapable of conquering. You don’t hear that phrase so much anymore, most likely because we’ve conquered many of those problems. Or maybe we feel confident, or scared, that AI will soon do it for us. But this past week I harkened back to the “common cold” lament because, like so many others, I was brought down by the latest virus going around.

I haven’t felt like doing much and felt sick as a dog. Ironically, I was also dealing with a sick dog, which required me to dress up in something akin to a hazmat suit and take him to the vet. All the while, I wondered that with all the medical miracles that seem to happen on a daily basis, I’m laid low by the same malady that has plagued humankind for hundreds of years. I think there must be a lot of people down with the cold virus right now because last week The Washington Post published an article pondering the same question. Turns out, I guess not surprisingly, that finding a cure is just not that simple. There are more than 200 different viruses that can lead to cold symptoms, with rhinoviruses being the most common. That diversity makes it hard to develop a single vaccine or treatment that would effectively cover all strains.

According to the Post, last week the Yale School of Medicine published the results of a study in the journal Cell Press Blue (you subscribe, right?) about their research into the common cold. They cultivated miniature models of nasal airways to try to understand how upper respiratory viruses unfold, why they can be so variable, and how to make them less miserable. I’m all for that! The details of the study are a little gross, so I’ll forego that in case you’re eating breakfast. The upshot is that after examining thousands of individual cells, the researchers found that it’s not the virus, but the intricacies of the response in thousands of nasal airway cells, that determines whether a cold is quickly quelled or explodes into something more serious. The study showed that the quick production of a protein called interferon by the infected cells kept the rhinovirus in check, allowing it to infect fewer than 2 percent of the cells. When they suppressed interferon, about a third of cells became infected and the rhinovirus proliferated. A different immune sensor kicked in, and molecules related to inflammation increased, mucus production went into overdrive, and the nasal cilia slowed their pulsing. There’s a lot more technical stuff, but that’s the basic gist.

They concluded that there’s a reason that the cold is such a challenge to solve: disentangling immune responses to know which ones are beneficial, which ones help control an infection, and which ones contribute to severity of symptoms, is not straightforward. The lead researcher commented that if the common cold was an easy problem to solve, it would have been solved a long time ago. No kidding. Generations of people have been waiting. Maybe AI will finally be the key to the finding an answer. Clearly, it’s beyond the ken of we mere mortals. As skeptical as I am of AI, I will gladly hail its presence if it can keep me out of the Cold and Cough aisle at Walgreens. In the meantime, I’m going to fix more tea and get drunk on Nyquil.

I Love L.A. . . . Sometimes

 by Bob Sparrow

My travels last week took me all the way to L.A., I know it’s not that far, but it sometimes seems like a foreign country. With the 35-mile drive to the Montalban Theater taking over an hour and a half, I was reminded that L. A. stands for Lotta Automobiles. The occasion was a Christmas gift from daughter, Dana & husband, Joe, a presentation of Hamlet by Eddie Izzard.

     Linda and I decided that we’d leave early to make sure we weren’t in the middle of commute traffic, to have dinner prior to the show, somewhere in L.A. close to theater.  After parking the car and looking in the immediate area, we found a place that sounded like what we were looking for. It was on Vine Street a block or so off Hollywood Blvd called the Lemon Grove – it’s a bar and restaurant on a sixth story rooftop. At the street level we found several bouncer-like guys at the entrance of the elevator, who looked ominous, but were actually very friendly and invited us to try the restaurant and bar on the rooftop and gave us a card for a free drink.

Rooftop bar with Capitol Records building in the background

     We took the elevator up to the sixth floor – it was spectacular! We decided we just wanted to sit at the uncovered, outside bar and have some small plates – short rib sliders and a ‘tater tots’ kind of potato – delicious!  It was a beautiful evening and If you ever get up that way, I would highly recommend this restaurant.

     After we finished eating, we then walked to the Montalban theater and had front-row, balcony seats.

     I was introduced to Eddie Izzard probably as many as 20 years ago; he was a very, very funny British comedian, who dressed in drag.  She now identifies as a female and is doing a one-man, er . . . one-woman world tour, playing every role in Shakespeare’s famous play.

     She came out before the performance and addressed the audience to set the proper expectation, as most of the audience knew him, oops, her, as a comedian. She said that, like Shakespeare, who did both comedy and tragedy, that tonight’s performance was not a comedy; she was preparing the audience for a different side of Eddie Izzard; although there were some funny parts, but mostly it was classic Shakespeare.

The minimalist stage

When I said it was a one-woman show, it was truly a one-woman show; Izzard played all 27 characters in the play, from Hamlet to Ophelia to Rosencranz and Guildenstern – she was not just the only person on stage, but she was the only ‘thing’ on stage – no scenery, no props.

The performance was incredible, the fact that anyone could memorize all those lines and deliver them with such feeling and impact, while having conversations with yourself, was amazing. I must admit that it may not be for the non-Shakespeare fan or someone not familiar with Hamlet and the various plot twists that it takes. I silently thanked my college English Literature professor, Dr. Viola Chapman, for giving me a strong appreciation for Shakespeare.

It was a most delightful evening, and the bonus at the end was that it took less than an hour to drive home.

All’s well that ends well.

SWEDISH DEATH CLEANING MAY KILL ME

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Procrastination is a wonderful thing. Living in suspended reality allows you to blissfully go about your daily life in joyful ignorance. But eventually that “long arm of the law”, reality, catches up. For me, reality hit home last week. I have been giving some thought to moving within the next two to three years. My house and yard have become more burdensome, the people moving into my community are young enough to be my children, and frankly, I know I need some new horizons. But first, my current horizon needs some clearing out. Mind you, I am the furthest thing from a hoarder you could find. I like clear countertops and alphabetized spice racks. My filing cabinet is color-coded and sorted by subject . Some might call me obsessive/compulsive. I prefer to think of myself as extremely organized. But still, I’ve lived in this house for almost 26 years and things do accumulate. So, my New Year’s resolution was to pretend I’m moving next month and then go through all of my belongings and discard accordingly. Sounded easy. It’s not.

Gosh, we were young!

To gain some inspiration I re-read The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning, by Margareta Magnusson. In essence, she encourages people to clean out their crap before their kids have to after they die. She extols the virtues of embracing minimalism and doing it with humor along the way. Okay, I can get on board with the minimalism, but I found the process to be anything but humorous. Except for the photos of my brothers and me from over 50 years ago. That brought a good chuckle. Especially my outfit which, in retrospect, resembles a cheap shag rug. Anyway, I started in my craft closet, which may sound like a weak place to start but I assure you it was the most over-crowded, full-of-junk, space in the house. I was motivated to start there because it hadn’t been painted in 26 years. Through five major remodels I always managed to avoid clearing out that closet because it was too daunting. It is a rather large walk-in space where I threw things in with abandon. I used to work in a yarn store where I got yarn at wholesale prices. I took advantage of that. Maybe too much advantage. Although the yarn and notions were all in bins that were sorted and labeled, it was still overwhelming. Add to that I had a huge table for my sewing machine, stacks of fabric, and a long shelf of crafting books. I kept a big box of photos and other memorabilia in there, including my second runner-up trophy from the 1968 Junior Miss Contest. And, oh yeah, it also contained all of the exercise equipment that I was certain I would use every day. Somehow that never worked out. And neither did I. In any event, I finally scheduled painters to come this week to spruce it up.

But last Friday morning my contractor called and said the painters had a cancellation and would be coming to my house in two hours. I know better than to turn down a contractor when they’re available, so I rushed into my craft closet and began to work. I harkened back on my lessons from Swedish Death Cleaning. I had to get very realistic about what I would keep and what I would donate. After all, when I do move it will be into a much smaller space, so I resolved to start downsizing now. I put more than half of my crafting materials into the “donate” pile. I did not let myself get stuck in sentiment – yarn that I bought on my magical trip to Ireland eight years ago will now be magical in someone else’s stash. My trophy from 1968 is finally where it belongs – in the trash pile. I took pictures of pictures and then discarded the originals. With steely resolve, I got it all cleared out and sorted before the painters arrived.

It’s amazing what you can get done with a figurative gun at your head. I think Margareta exaggerated the “joyful” part of this, but I will say it feels good to have this major task behind me. I’m thinking that I need to schedule some sort of work to be done in my office and the kitchen. But first I have to recuperate – this death cleaning may be the death of me…or my back.

Finding Unity in Everyday Acts of Kindness

by Bob Sparrow

I think like many of you, I have grown increasingly tired of all the discussing political rhetoric from both sides, spewing from every media outlet imaginable. Through effort, I have found myself paying less attention to the loud, often crude clips we all get exposed to daily. Through more effort, I am purposely paying more attention to quiet, personal conversations. The ones that happen in grocery store aisles, in neighborhoods and over coffee. They don’t make headlines, but I believe they feel more representative of the country we live in than the noise from our politicians that dominates the airwaves.

There’s no denying that America feels divided right now, thank mostly to our politicians and the media that supports them. There just doesn’t seem to be accurate, balanced reporting of any event, it’s always seems to be slanted based on what media you’re listening to or watching. Even in personal conversations, people must choose their words carefully or sometimes avoid certain topics altogether, based on their audience. We must be a good judge of the audience before we mention anything that could be interpreted as politically slanted. But alongside that tension, there’s something else happening, something steadier and far less dramatic, and certainly far less publizied. People are still showing up for their lives. They’re going to work, caring for family members, coaching kids’ teams, volunteering, creating things, fixing things, and trying, in their own imperfect way, to do right by the people around them. Unfortunately, the people who have the spotlight on them are the politicians, and I sincerely believe that something happens to a person when they get into politics. It seems that it’s not about what’s good for the people they represent, it’s about what’s good for their political party and not cooperating with the other side of the aisle, but taking every opportunity to defeat and demean them.

Conversations over coffee

In the previous year alone, I’ve personally seen neighbors help each other through tough times, strangers hold doors and conversations open a little longer than necessary, and small businesses adapt with creativity and grit that deserves more attention than it gets. These moments don’t erase disagreements, but they remind me that disagreement isn’t the whole story. It has never been.

One of the enduring strengths of this country is its capacity for everyday problem-solving. Americans have always been practical at heart. When something breaks, we patch it. When plans change, we improvise. When the road gets bumpy, we complain a little—and then keep going. That instinct seems alive and well, even now and needs to be used to ‘fix’ this divide.

There’s also a quiet generosity that persists beneath the surface. It shows up in donation jars, shared meals, patient teachers, exhausted healthcare workers, and people who check in on one another without expecting anything in return. These gestures may not feel grand, but collectively they form the connective tissue of the nation.

What gives me hope isn’t the idea that everyone will suddenly agree, or that complexity will magically disappear. Hope comes from watching common people navigate uncertainty with resilience and humor. It comes from the understanding that a country isn’t defined solely by its political arguments, but by how its people live between them.

Mixing Red & Blue makes a beautiful color . . . and country

After fifteen years of writing this weekly blog, I’ve learned that the most meaningful stories, which are mostly written by my sister, are rarely the loudest ones. They’re steady, human stories about persistence, kindness, curiosity, and simple desire to make tomorrow a little better than today.

America, for all its contradictions, is still full of people trying. And in times like these, that effort counts for more than we sometimes realize.

A Year of Diet, Socialization, Exercise and Pumpkin Pie

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

As my brother pointed out last week, this is the time of year when we are full of resolutions. We strive to eat better, drink less, lose ten pounds, limit social media, and be kinder to everyone. To be honest, I don’t think I can do all that. At this point in life, I have to make choices…and face reality. I’ve made the same resolution to lose the same ten pounds for the past thirty years. In 2026 I’m not even going to try. In fact, as I’ve watched countless friends whittle away to bare bones due to the “miracle” of GLP-1, I’ve consoled myself that those extra ten pounds will serve me well if I ever get sick. Basically, they serve as my cushioning in more ways than one. I have rounded third base, and though I hope it will be a while before I slide into home plate, I intend to do so clutching a big piece of chocolate cake.

I actually do eat a healthy diet except for the occasional sweet. Okay, maybe more like a daily sweet, but always in moderation. Except when I buy the pumpkin pie at Sprouts and consume the whole thing in four days. But pumpkin is very healthy for you, and it is seasonal, so I have to take advantage while I can. So… I have the eating part of things figured out. I also don’t drink much these days. I love the socialization that usually is entwined with it, but the waking up at 1 a.m. part? Not so much. I can’t have a one-year-old puppy and drink at the same time. I simply don’t have the energy.

Being kinder to people is an admirable trait – one that I strive to exhibit. I try to remember that you never know what people are going through so everyone deserves some grace. Except for the people who tailgate me in a 45 MPH zone, then zoom around me and give me the finger because I was only going 50 MPH. I don’t think that person deserves my kindness, but in 2026 I will try not to flip them off in return.

Social media usage has become a problem throughout our population in general, and for me specifically early in the morning because I find catching up on dog videos and recipes preferable to the news. I fix myself a big cup of coffee, turn on Good Morning Football or ESPN, and peruse Facebook and Instagram. So, you can imagine my annoyance when people take to social media platforms to “school” me on the latest political events. I get it from both sides, but one person in particular posts at least five times a day, alerting me to Trump’s every movement. I actually am insulted by these people – do they assume that I am so uncurious and ill-informed that BUT FOR THEM I would wallow in total ignorance? I worry about people who spend so much of their time thinking about what to post. The phrase, “get a life”, springs to mind. So, I will save some time spent on social media in 2026 because I plan to block them. Nothing gets between me and my dog videos.

I DO intend to exercise more. I recently finished the book, Outlive, by Dr. Peter Attia. He specializes in helping people have a long health span, vs a long life span. After all, what’s the use of living to be 100 if you have been confined to a bed for ten years? One of the staples of Dr. Attia’s program is to increase strength as you age. He acknowledges that it’s more difficult to build muscle mass after age 70, but not impossible. I have saved about 50 exercise reels on social media platforms. I even created a folder on each one and carefully filed each reel away for future reference. So far, my only exercise has been whatever energy is expended by my index finger to move to reel to my files. But today – TODAY! – I am starting with a trainer at the gym, who also read Outlive and we are going to set up a program to help me live healthily to 100. I’m good with that as long as I don’t have to give up my pumpkin pie.