Life

Stay Classic

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Last night I went to music bingo at a local brewery, and the final round was classic rock. I’d say 90% of the songs were from my childhood and adolescence. I stared at my board, slackjawed, and then exclaimed, “I’m classic?!” In other words, I’m old. 

I remember a time my mom was classifying her children’s senses of style; one was athletic, one trendy, and she looked at me, paused, and then labeled me classic. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I was living in Connecticut at the time, so I was hoping she just meant preppy, and not stale. 

I work for a tech company now, and despite the world’s advances in technology, its failure is the cause of most of my team’s headaches. “Classic” is our go-to word for things going wrong at just the wrong time. Hearing the word classic had always conjured up images of cool things like cars and rock ‘n’ roll, but the word classic was starting to take on a negative connotation, and I didn’t like it. 

Last week I was watching a morning talk show that was highlighting a trending Reel on social media that had copied a scene from a Christmas movie that was made nearly 40 years ago. One of the hosts pointed out that the Reel is popular because that movie is still relevant. That one declaration helped me to restore my mindset; being classic doesn’t mean I’m old, it means I’m popular! *cue applause* So, you see, calling something classic doesn’t mean it’s old, stale, or broken, it means it’s timeless, relevant, and enduring.

As I begin planning for the new year, I resolve to stay classically classic.

Luck of the Pot

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I was at a Friendsgiving on Sunday evening, and it was a potluck. I brought stuffing…easy to identify. Some other dishes, however, got me thinking about the true meaning of the word “potluck.”  Like you could really be pressing your luck by trying some of these mysterious concoctions! 

One pot was filled with a pineapple and cheese casserole, apparently a Thanksgiving table staple in the south. I’d never heard of such a thing, which is delightfully surprising to a self-proclaimed foodie. This introduction to a new recipe also got me excited about the fact that potlucks are making a comeback post-Covid. As someone who grew up on family reunion and church potlucks, I felt a loss when sharing homemade food came to an abrupt stop four years ago. But I digress. 

Later that night I decided to research potlucks. What I found out from my internet search is they have always been about sharing, but not necessarily with friends and family. Back in the day, people would keep their leftovers warm in a pot in case someone in need knocked on the door unexpectedly. During the Great Depression, communities of families would gather their food together to make more nutrient-complete meals for one another. What a beautiful practice! 

I hope that this Thanksgiving brings an opportunity to all of you to share something with someone. Whether it’s a casserole or a loaf of bread to break, or something that costs you nothing, like a smile and a handshake. Share a recipe, an anecdote, a laugh, or a turkey bone wish… that the luck of the pot will always land on your dish. 

Superstitions

Jeanna GLeave a comment

As I was waiting in the intersection to turn left, the light turned amber and the driver of the car coming from the opposite direction kissed his hand and then tapped his car’s ceiling as he sped past. I don’t know what the name for that practice is, but I know I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. But why? Do I think it will prevent me from getting T-boned? Or that it will stop a cop from giving me a ticket? 

I’ve also avoided stepping on cracks for most of my life, I drink out of my Penn State mug for all of football season, and I used to tape a Tootsie Pop wrapper to the strap of my shinguards before each soccer game. Some of my behaviors could probably be better labeled as obsessive-compulsive, rather than superstitious. Even so, what keeps me doing them? I’m sure at some point I felt as though they eased my worries or would bring me good luck. Some, I’ve heard, keep away evil spirits, like tapping my glass on the bar before I take a shot, or tossing a pinch of spilled salt over my left shoulder.  

As Halloween approaches, so do the images of spooky spirits, and I can’t help but get caught up in the superstition of the season. If a black cat crosses my path, will a witch be close behind? Maybe, maybe not, but I’ll be sure to light my Jack-o’-lantern just in case.