Tag Archives: New Year

Reflections on a Dirty Martini

There’s not much more to be said of the past year, and since the new one isn’t even a week old, I’d prefer not to comment too much or even try to predict any turn of events.  Life has not felt normal for a long time and frankly, I’m tired of trying to make any sense of things right now.  Instead, I just want to reflect on something small.  A martini.

My dad’s regular drink was a dirty martini.  Medium dry, Beefeater’s Gin, with a drizzle of Vermouth, a splash of olive juice and as the piece de resistance, those gorgeous, juicy, green olives with just a peek of red pimento winking at me.  He’d come home from work, call for my mom to join him upstairs while he changed clothes and they spent a few private moments together.  Then it was back down to the kitchen to mix that perfectly glamorous drink while my mom finished preparing dinner.  I’d hang around, hoping for a taste of the olive at the end.  Year after year he’d simply tell me I was too young, while I watched him sip that tantalizing concoction.  Finally, the day came when he handed over the olive.  Aaaah!  I’d finally made it!  I took the fruit from his toothpick and popped it into my mouth, sucked on it for a few minutes, then nibbled it bit by bit, savoring the tang of the gin with the saltiness of the olive. 

To this day, a dirty martini is my decadent pleasure.  Just the look of the triangle shaped glass with the olives perched on their toothpick inside the slightly cloudy drink of gin and Vermouth, makes me think of my dad driving into the garage in his Chevy Malibu, of our Delta Green shag carpet, our paneled den where I’d watch The Mary Tyler Moore Show, my mom made up, hair done, dressed for going out.  Yep, the late 1960s and early 1970s were groovy times, at least to me. 

In retrospect, though, they were also troubled years filled with social unrest, presidential scandals, assassinations, air pollution and some really groundbreaking protest songs.  As a late baby boomer, I was ill equipped to participate actively in the struggles of my older cousins to move the needle from the heady post-war (WWII) years to bridge the Generation Gap and herald the new age of technology just on the horizon.  But I watched from the sidelines as they marched, protested, chanted and sang about the wrongs they believed needed to be put right.  Those years shaped me, too, just like my dad’s dirty martini.  Part bitter, part tart, a little sweetness and at the end, an olive plucked from that marinade.  Every evening mix and repeat. 

About Barbara Dab

Barbara Dab is a journalist, broadcast radio personality, producer and award-winning public relations consultant.  She is the Editor of The Jewish Observer of Nashville, and a former small business owner.  Barbara loves writing, telling stories of real people and real events and most of all, talking to people all over the world.  The Jewish Observer newspaper can be read online at www.jewishobservernashville.org .

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If it’s Tuesday, it Must be…

Photo by Leah Kelley on Pexels.com

When I was a kid, my dad used to love to take us all to the drive-in movies. There was one that stands out called, “If it’s Tuesday, This Must be Belgium.” I don’t remember the details, but it had something to do with tourists running all over Europe, different cities, different days, until they lost track of time. The film title became our family’s code for describing that feeling of being disoriented or off kilter. That’s exactly how I feel! This week, I’ve been at least one, if not two, days off, and I missed my deadline for this blog post. If it’s COVID, this must be…who even knows what day it is anymore?

Okay, so here it is, Thursday…again. I think this weekend is the Labor Day holiday? Yes, I’m sure it is. I’m just not sure where summer went. I’ve experienced most of it from inside my house, which means it feels the same as Spring and most likely Fall will feel the same. I guess I’ll need to change my wardrobe just to keep track of the passing of time. If it’s Tuesday, it must be…

Last month I shared my Whole30 journey. I’m happy to report I’m still on the journey. I’ve learned more about how my body experiences different foods. So far, I do well with most food groups. I have noticed that alcohol consumption affects my sleep, so I can decide if that glass of wine at dinner is worth losing some sleep over. My cravings for sweets and snacks have mostly disappeared, although some days I just need a little something in between meals, especially if I haven’t eaten enough protein. Overall, some good lessons and some new, healthier, habits are being formed.

In a little over a week, my middle son will come for a visit. We haven’t seen him since mid-February and while I’m very excited, I’m also a bit nervous and apprehensive about the health risk – for all of us. Crazy times. What used to be a routine trip now feels like a treacherous journey. If it’s Tuesday, it must be…

And to add to the fun the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, is just around the corner. This year our congregation will hold services virtually with a combination of pre-recorded segments and live streaming from the synagogue where the Rabbi and Cantor will be present in the sanctuary. Disorienting? You bet! Bittersweet? Yep! There is so much to miss this year, most important for me is the feeling of being in my community, physically present together to usher in a new year (yes, we Jews get to celebrate the New Year twice). Yes, I’m grateful to be healthy and to be with my family. But this thing, this plague, started just before the Spring holiday of Passover and here we still are. If it’s Tuesday, it must be…

So, I’ll just close with a traditional Jewish New Year’s blessing and wish everyone a Happy, Healthy, Sweet New Year (whether you observe or not, what the heck!). Here’s hoping next month I’ll know what day it is…

About Barbara Dab

Barbara Dab is a journalist, broadcast radio personality, producer and award-winning public relations consultant.  She is the Editor of The Jewish Observer of Nashville, and a former small business owner.  Barbara loves writing, telling stories of real people and real events and most of all, talking to people all over the world.  The Jewish Observer newspaper can be read online at www.jewishobservernashville.org .

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Happy New Year 2019: Choosing Happiness

Nashville NYE

Since I have committed to the first post of the month, I am usually tasked with writing our annual New Year’s thoughts.  It’s both an honor, and a burden to be the one to set the tone and offer some words of insight and/or wisdom for the beginning of a new year.  And, since I’ve also been called the “cheerleader,” of our HerSavvy group, I feel obliged to write something positive, optimistic, encouraging.  And honestly, it’s not hard for me to do just that.  I’m fairly confident that I am genetically predisposed to being an eternal optimist, able to overlook the harsh truths in front of me and hone in on whatever kernel of happiness I can find.

My mom was the same way and often took some ribbing from my family about what my dad called her “Pollyanna,” view of the world.  She characterized it differently.  She subscribed to the old adage (often incorrectly attributed to Abraham Lincoln), “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their mind to be.”  As I’ve gotten older I find that I, too, live by this pretty basic ideology.  In fact, today I ran into someone I haven’t seen in several months and she remarked that I looked fabulous and asked what’s my secret.  I automatically replied, “Pilates and a happy life.”  And it honestly wasn’t just something I say to make conversation or to have a pithy reply.  I really do believe that my life is a happy one because I choose to find the positives in most situations.  Of course, I’ve had my share of sadness, loss, anger, frustration and pain.  I do feel the range of human emotions.  But this choice to find happiness is something I consciously practice.

This past year, choosing happiness has been a challenge.  The world as I knew it changed dramatically, my country changed in ways that frighten me and I worry about the future for myself, for my children and for the planet.  Some days I feel depressed and overwhelmed by what I read and hear in the news.  I’ve supported a sibling through a very difficult and painful life change that has left me grieving for my parents and wishing they were here to help me meet this challenge.  And along with all of this is the normal worries of middle adult life.

But buried in all the mess of 2018, I also found some wonderful reasons to be happy.  I had a milestone birthday and I’m in the best physical and emotional shape of my life.  My husband and I are enjoying each other and our empty nest.  My adult children, though continuing to find their way, are each enjoying professional success and are “off the payroll.”  I’ve made some amazing new friends and strengthened some old relationships.  I’ve also moved on from some toxic relationships and learned to set some more effective boundaries.  I’ve challenged my mind and my body to continue growing and learning, and I feel more comfortable with my own spirituality.

This practice of seeking out and choosing happiness isn’t anything magical.  I may find it a more natural behavior than someone else.  But anyone can train herself to do it.  Some people might begin with just feeling grateful for whatever they can.  Gratitude goes a long way towards being happy.  Another approach is to work towards looking at a situation differently.  There is almost always another angle that is more positive than negative.  Even in trying times, there is growth.  In loss there can be appreciation for what one had.  Out of anger can come understanding.

As I begin this new year, I plan to continue choosing happiness.  I understand now that for my mom it was also a choice.  She was not an unwitting Pollyanna, smiling mindlessly through life.  She set her course for happiness and navigated through the difficulties by keeping her eye on that prize.  I miss her sunny disposition and her calm patient way of guiding me towards happiness.  But I am proud to carry on in her stead and to welcome the future with open arms and a smile.  Happy New Year, everyone, enjoy this marvelous, flawed, beautiful, savvy world!

About Barbara Dab

Barbara Dab is a small business owner, journalist, broadcast radio personality, producer and award-winning public relations consultant.  She is the proud owner of Nashville Pilates Company, a boutique Pilates studio in Nashville’s Wedgewood/Houston neighborhood.  Check it out at  www.nashvillepilatescompany.com.  She is also the creator of The Peretz Project: Stories from the Shoah: Next Generation.  The Peretz Project, named for her late father-in-law who was a Holocaust survivor, is collecting testimony from children of survivors.  Visit http://www.theperetzproject.com.  If you are, or someone you know is, the child of survivors of the Shoah, The Holocaust, and you would like to tell your story please leave a comment and Barbara will contact you.

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Out With the Old, In With the New, Or…

… Another one bites the dust. Just my thoughts.

And here we are, looking toward a new year, a new beginning. For many, it really is like starting all over. It’s a time of “New Year’s resolutions.” We make promises to ourselves that we will make changes. We’ll do things differently.

I was in Trader Joe’s the other day and, of course, it was quite busy. Trader Joe’s is ALWAYS quite busy. Everyone loves Trader Joe’s. In conversation with my cashier, however, he remarked, “Not as busy as it’s going to be.” “Because of getting ready for New Year’s parties?” I asked. “No,” he replied, “Next Tuesday, the second.” “Huh?” I responded intelligently. He explained that it would be especially busy due to all the people’s resolutions to take better care of themselves, to eat better. “They’ll all be in here,” he said, and, “Of course it won’t last. They never do.”

Ah. This is a realization I came to a long time ago. I look forward to each New Year. Like most, I never can quite believe it has arrived once it does. (“Can you believe it’s almost —-?” “Where did the year go?” “I swear they just go by faster and faster.”) And I wonder, truly do wonder how I’ve made it through yet another year, but I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I make resolutions every day. Much more practical, don’t you think?

So, here it is. It’s going to be the year 2018 and I find this amazing. The sheer magnitude of the number leaves me in awe. Heck, I was totally fascinated when I received a new credit card a few years ago that would expire in 2016. Y2K – eons ago. 1984 – Ancient history. 1968 – Earth Day. For some reason, when I was younger, I didn’t think I would make it nearly this far. I can’t say why. It was just a feeling. Yet, here I am. I must celebrate for my friends who didn’t make it.

I can see already that this year is going to be a transitional one for me. The prospect of two new jobs on my horizon is exciting. I’ve done so many different things in my life. I think my resume looks like a diner’s menu, a very ambitious menu. I like it that way. I love trying and learning new things, and, hey, I got both jobs I applied for. Musically, I’m stepping out of my comfort zone. I’ll be auditioning for America’s Got Talent. Let you know how it goes.

Happy New Year everybody. Rock on!

About Jan Schim

Jan is a singer, a songwriter, a licensed body worker specializing in CranioSacral Therapy, and a teacher. She is an advocate for the ethical treatment of ALL animals and a volunteer with several animal advocacy organizations. She is also a staunch believer in the need to promote environmental responsibility.

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