Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

What Kind of Woman

Posted by Ralph at 04:34 Ask A Coot!, principles, Reflections

Mar 112013

Can put up with a Cantankerous Old Coot?

One of the frequently asked questions around here is about how you get to be one of the lucky women married to a cantankerous old coot. Maybe we need to ask Bob’s new bride how she hit the jackpot. Is it luck? Propinquity? Careful planning? I can’t, of course speak for Justin and Bob’s experience. I only know my own and I have to confess that I see only luck. There is no way that my wife could have realized what a wonderful catch she had found that rainy Saturday in New Haven. In fact, it was only because she was new in town that she didn’t throw me back into the dating pool. Not that I wasn’t dashing in my baby blue combat boots and day-glow poncho (my college pick up outfit). It was just that after the introductory burst of personality, I I was still a grad school dweeb.

Even if she wasn’t swept off her feet that night, something kept us together that year and connected even after I graduated and moved 3,000 miles away. I knew I had found a keeper though I made her do the pursuing. You can call that an early manifestation of Cootness or you can just call it stupidity. Whatever you call it, my wife eventually graduated and joined me in LA. Then after some coaxing, we married, raised our family, fought and loved.

Looking back over all those years-

So here we are now in the idyllic Sierra foothills, enjoying our senior moments and trying to get the last kid out of the house in spite of the abysmal Obama economy. What has it all meant? Has it been a wonderful life? Will Hollywood producers line up to make a movie? Probably not. Looking back, I see a few things that should have gone better, priorities that got skewed but all in all at this point, as Hillary Clinton says “What difference does it make?”

Well, the biggest difference that I see looking back over 40 years is the woman I met, by chance at a Halloween party that rainy New England evening.

That’s not really an answer to the question that started this post. It doesn’t really explain how my wife got to be so lucky. She is, of course, lucky but luck is not so easily explained. There is also the complication that luck can be shared. I was lucky too; lucky that a casual conversation in the grad school coffee shop snagged me an invitation to Susan’s party; lucky that my wife got an invitation as well and finally lucky that I forced myself into an uncomfortable position of going to a party where I didn’t know anyone.

The Road Less Traveled..

Long story short, my wife didn’t have a clue that night how lucky she was because the Coot-to-be she snagged that night was disguised as an ordinary grad school nebbish.

Bottom line, I don’t know how to answer the question. Even after all these years, life is a great mystery to me. Most of the time, it is a messy experience with the wrong people making the wrong decisions about too many things that mess up my life. Most of the time, I find myself railing at the stupidity that makes my life difficult. But when the dust settles, my ranting is done and I retreat back to the safety of my home to lick my wounds and plot revenge, I realize how lucky I am.

Because of that chance encounter 40 years ago and a bit of effort from time to time since, I have a home. My wife has made a sanctuary of peace and security where a Cantankerous Old Coot can find comfort and forget about life’s problems.

Yes, my wife is a lucky woman but it goes far beyond being married to a Cantankerous Old Coot. It took a long time for me to see what she gave me and even longer to learn how to pay her back. My wife is lucky because she was willing to stick with me until I was mature and responsible enough to understand that I can never do enough for her to make up for all she has given me.

So what kind of woman can marry a Cantankerous Old Coot?

If you really want an answer to the question, ladies, this is the best I can do for you. It takes long term planning. You need to become the kind of woman that will give herself to a man that doesn’t deserve her and hope that he will rise to the challenge. Find some worthless dweeb and devote 40 years to making a home for him. Then, if you are lucky, he will develop into someone of consequence- a Cantankerous Old Coot, if you will. And you will live happily ever after.

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Cantankerous Wednesday- It’s your turn to say what you like

Posted by Ralph at 14:09 Plain 'ol Cantankerous

Feb 152013

Image by secretlondon123 via Flickr

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The Second Year of Cantankerosity

When Justin started this blog, it was a wild ride. Justin set it up and I pitched in to bail him out. We had plans for Coots to be a support site for coots or all ages who were developing their own cantankerous natures. The first idea was lessons that all coots need to know which naturally led to Cantankerous Old Coots University.

Our dream was to unleash a free wheeling approach to life which didn’t ask for permission and didn’t buy conventional wisdom. We thought that it would be easy to build a community around cantankerosity.

Well it’s worked. We grown a readership that amazes us. We have regular readers who check regularly. There is a market for straight talk about life. Still, after a year, it’s time to step back and ask some questions. We don’t want to rest on our laurels. We want to take Coots to a new high platitude of success (as I remember the original Mayor Daley say when I was in college).

So today, I’m putting the challenge to our readers. Tell us what you want.

1. Do you want more Coot’s Lessons?

2. Would you like audios for those lessons?

3. Do you enjoy the themed topics where all three of us address a topic?

4. Do you want to know more about Justin’s kettlebell music?

5. Do you prefer philosophical posts or anecdotal posts?

6. Do you love a good rant?

7. Would you like an interview of Bob, of Justin, or even me?

They say that too many choices makes it impossible to make decisions so I’ve probably overdone it here but I just can’t control myself. I’m going to give you one question to answer today. Just pick your favorite from the above statements. Tell us which one you would like to see more of. Or just check none of the above. Be aware, however, if you select ‘none of the above’ that you have to leave your request in a comment. There is no free lunch around here, you know.

Your suggestions for Coots Year Two

More Rants (50%, 1 Votes)
Interviews (50%, 1 Votes)
More Coots Lessons (0%, 0 Votes)
Audios for Coots Lessons (0%, 0 Votes)
Themed Topics (0%, 0 Votes)
Kettlebell Music (0%, 0 Votes)
Philosophy over life experience (0%, 0 Votes)
None of the above (0%, 0 Votes)

Total Voters: 2

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Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Cocktails in Venice

Posted by Ralph at 03:53 Reflections

Feb 062013

Feeling Mellow.

Nothing too cantankerous for today. I’m still remembering how pleasant it can be sipping a refreshing libation in a sidewalk cafe in Venice. Bella!

Typical Venetian coctail Spritz, as it is prepared in Bistrot de Venice, calle dei Fabbri (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Drinking wine in Italy just seems natural. Hard liquor just isn’t right. Sometimes back home, I need a solid libation like a Martini at the end of a day. Not in Venice. A glass of wine at lunch. Maybe an ombra mid afternoon and then some wine and chicceti to hold you over until the ridiculously late Italian dinner hour. Wine can be white or red like at home. But there is also the Italian sparkling wine called prosecco. Without the pretension (and the price of French champagne) it is a refreshing pick me up anytime. In Venice you can find it everywhere. The message is simple and clear. You can and should enjoy prosecco often, by the glass, by the bottle or in a mixed drink, an Italian cocktail.

I was already sold on prosecco. What surprised me was the ways Venetians used it. They don’t just stop at drinking it straight. They mix it in a cocktail. I discovered that there are two signature cocktails in Venice- both using prosecco- the Bellini and the Spritz. Nothing provides a deeper insight into the Venetian mind than a comparison of those two drinks. They are as different as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for either drink but we intended the Venice trip as full exposure to the Venetian lifestyle and we had to try them both. We already liked prosecco (the common ingredient for both drinks) so why would we not like the cocktails. Billa, the neighborhood supermarket in our Venice neighborhood stocked bottles of pre-made Belinins and we bought some on our first visit. They were pleasant enough but not anything to write home about. It wasn’t until we stopped into a bar near Rialto later in our visit that we had a chance to experience a real Bellini and watch a master craftsman carefully preparing the beautiful elixirs. We found the Bellinni’s delicious. They were fresh, fruity and sparkling. Bellini’s are indeed sublime.

Start with the prosecco

Then carefully add the peach nectar

Glass by glass

by glass

Then another afternoon we tried a spritz. We stopped in at a small bar in our local square after an afternoon exploring. I ordered spritz’s for us and the waitress asked if we wanted Campari or Aperol. I didn’t have a clue which to choose- and there was no point in trying to ask so I said Campari. I had at least heard of Campari even though I had no idea what it tasted like. I was soon to find out that Campari has quite a medicinal overlay. I expected a light, refreshing drink and found myself sipping bitter herbs. The drink was garnished with an orange slice and an olive leaving me to wonder why anyone would waste good prosecco in such a concoction. It is nearly undrinkable.

Later on I realized that the spritz is the perfect drink for the restaurant/bars you find all over Venice. You have to buy something to be allowed to sit but once you buy something, you can sit there as long as you want. With most drinks, I sip away and before long I’m calling the waiter over for a refill. Those view tables in the squares can be pretty pricy and before you know it the travel budget it seriously strained. Not when you are drinking a Spritz. One spritz can last me forever. My wife didn’t even finish hers and we enjoyed a pleasant afternoon sitting in the square for cheap, one drink was plenty.

I hear that Aperol is less medicinal but for me the bloom is off the spritz. I’ll just stick to an ombra of prosecco or a Bellini from now on.

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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The Zen of Ashton Kutcher

Posted by Ralph at 12:17 rants

Feb 012013

No, I haven’t gone senile on you. No, the Coots do not embrace Ashton or his ilk. I don’t even know what silly show he may be staring in these days. So what, you ask, is boy toy Ashton Kutcher doing on Cantankerous Old Coots? Don’t we have any standards?

Makes me think of Ashton

Well the simple answer is that, of course, we don’t have any standards here at the Cantankerous Old Coots. Standards are for bland, boring people and we have higher aspirations. Still that isn’t an explanation. Lets be blunt. Ashton just isn’t a Cantankerous Old Coot although give him fifty years and he might grow up enough to qualify. None the less, thanks to the miracle of Google, people looking for Ashton Kutcher end up at Cantankerous Old Coots. How’s that for poetic justice? Last week the most people coming to COC were looking for Ashton.

Blame it on Google!

If you don’t understand Google, you might be surprised at this information but then I don’t think that anybody actually understands Google. Just the mention of Google makes my blood pressure rise. I can feel a rant coming on but I’m going to fight it off and get back to Ashton. Whatever the craziness of Google, I have to admit responsibility here. I happened to mention him in a post recently.

It’s not that I’m a fan of Ashton. In fact I don’t know a single celebrity today who turns me off more than Ashton Kutcher, the former boy-toy on That 70’s Show, better half of Demi Moore and Nikon huckster. He must be currently doing something but if he is, it’s a mystery to me. I really didn’t give much thought to mentioning him in a post a few weeks back. It was merely an aside, nothing of substance. But I guess nothing on the web gets past Google.

What happened to real men?

I know virtually nothing about Ashton but even that small amount is way more that I’d like to know. He is just a strange, androgynous face on the TV screen. I guess he is supposed to be considered good looking but I don’t see it. But then I don’t get any of the new male stars. They look like girls to me even when they skip shaving. Brad Pitt, Leo de Caprio, I just don’t get it. Whatever happened to real men? And what happened to real women these days. What causes them to choose boy toys over real men. Must be something in the water- fluoride, perhaps.

I have no animus for Kutcher. Maybe he will grow up someday and settle into a comfortable role as a character actor. I wish him well. But in the meantime I sure don’t want him in my face. I’d like to be able to turn on the TV without seeing him. He is totally responsible for my decision to never buy a Nikon camera, whatever their technical merits. I can’t even hear the word Nikon without cringing. It brings to mind Ashton’s stick figure build (much like Jack from the Night Before Christmas) and creepy smile. My stomach is turning.

Over to you.

Thanks to Google, we will probably keep on getting visitors looking for Ashton but I figure they have to me more bewildered than me about that. If I was a smart web programmer, I’d love to set up a welcoming page with a big picture of Bruce Willis. Since that is beyond my abilities, it will just have to stay like it is. Anybody want to stand up for Ashton? The floor is all yours.

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Up with Old Age

Posted by Ralph at 11:30 Up With

Jan 312013

You just can’t avoid it.

One of our principles here at Cantankerous Old Coots is not to hold back. We believe in straight talk, calling a spade a spade and

The Old Coot (Photo credit: goingslo)

facing the music. We understand that those are the behaviors of a man of integrity and we firmly support the notion that in the English language, at least, a man of integrity is generic, encompassing both major sexes and even a few of the minor ones. Cantankerous Old Coots aspire to be men of integrity but we also modestly confess that telling it like it is is also a direct product of the aging process.

What else can you do when all those bodily functions and physical abilities desert you? You rant. And when ranting just doesn’t satisfy you start picking the world around you to pieces. You notice it’s failures and you tell is like it is. You can’t change reality or bring back your youthful energy, physical prowess and libido but it serves notice that you have had it up to here with old age and you aren’t going to take it any more. You channel Howard Beal. Of course, it doesn’t fix anything but, at least, it distracts you for the moment.

Which came first? The cantankerous or the coot.

One of the explanations for the existence of cantankerous old coots is the aging process. Getting old makes you just naturally turn cantankerous and, of course, when you turn cantankerous what is more natural than being called a coot. Most people will accept that as a straightforward explanation. Most people are fools. This is a very superficial perspective on aging , the kind that you develop when you are a youngster and don’t know any better. When you are young and everything works like it is supposed to, you just don’t know what you don’t know. Youngsters imagine that they understand life when, in fact, they are clueless.

Aging is one of those facts of life that we learn early on and think we understand. We observe old people but can’t fathom that life will take us all there- if we are lucky. The young mind sees old people and can’t truly believe that they were once young. They also have no way to understand their future; what it is like to be old. They believe it is all cosmetic, wrinkles and gray hair with the body still willing..

The young can’t handle it!

Youngsters can’t get their heads around the physical reality of aging. They don’t believe that it will actually happen to them. The young mind refuses to acknowledge it’s own aging . The young mind denies the physical deterioration of his body but each year that denial becomes harder to justify.

At some point the reality hits. Denial become impossible and the true test of life begins.

You begin to ask the important questions. What good are you? What justification can you find in struggling on? Who really cares? This is a painful and humiliating process: accepting old age after decades of denial. Some deal with it better than others. Many wilt with this acceptance and meekly surrender to decrepitude and dependence. Others just give up and expire. A few refuse to go quietly into the dark night of senility. They get mad. They fight back. They protest and complain. They get noticed. Sometimes they even matter. Those are the Cantankerous Old Coots.

It’s all futile.

Of course in the end, it makes absolutely no difference. Life on earth is finite. At some point the perceived advantages of continuing to exist start to lose out to the difficulties. Cantankerous Old Coots might hold on longer just for the sheer, good-matured fun of messing with Mother Nature but that is an individual decision. Cantankerous Old Coots aren’t in it to win. Nobody wins. For a Cantankerous Old Coot it is the battle. Did you give it all you had? And did anybody notice?

Are you a Cantankerous Old Coot, a foolish youngster or in denial? Going down easy or hard?