Monthly Archives: July 2001

Simple Planning Makes for a More Enjoyable Vacation

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© 2001
June is “Rebuild Your Life” Month… time to think of ways that you can rejuvenate yourself and reconnect with those you care about most. If your vacation includes travel, I encourage you to plan at least one trip that is purely vacation. Make the first day of summer (June 21) your deadline for finalizing summer travel and vacation plans.

The annual family vacation is typically a time for fun and relaxation… if you plan ahead. For those who don’t plan accordingly, it can also be a time of disaster, stress, and heartache. Unfortunately, most people don’t associate planning with fun. I’ve learned that leaving even the smallest details unattended to can be a recipe for disaster. I’ll illustrate my point by sharing some personal experiences.

Confirmed Airline Reservations… Ha!

Six years ago my family planned a summer vacation to Alaska. Because Alaska only has a couple months of warm weather, we knew that the month of July would be a busy time to travel there. That’s why we purchased our airline tickets six months in advance. With paid tickets in hand, I called the airline the day before to confirm our reservations. They confirmed that we had paid reservations for the flight.

The next day we got to the airport 1.5 hours before departure time. That’s when we were told that the flight was oversold and we did not have confirmed seats on the plane. I said, “How can this be? We bought these tickets six months ago! We were among the first passengers to purchase tickets for this flight! And we’re here early… most other passengers have not even checked in yet!!” The agent behind the ticket counter explained to me that, because we had purchased the tickets so far in advance, seat assignments were not made at the time of purchase. (We since learned that most airlines do not have their computers set up for seat assignments until 60-90 days out.) Those who purchased tickets or called to request seat assignments within 60 days of departure had reserved seats. We were placed on the waiting list.

Our story had a happy ending. We got the last three seats available… all in First Class! Although we had a favorable outcome, our vacation could have ended in disaster. This is one lesson I will never forget! I’ve just purchased airline tickets for December to Hawaii. Although the flight is almost sold out, the airline will not make seat assignments until 90 days prior to departure. Guess who has a reminder in her tickler file to call the airline in September! (Learn more about setting up your own tickler file at this link)

Guaranteed for Late Arrival to the Hotel… Ha!

The summer following our trip to Alaska, our family vacationed in Minnesota. Our flight was scheduled to land very late in the evening, so I asked our travel agent to set up a guarantee for late arrival when she booked the hotel reservations. Our agent confirmed that she had given the hotel our credit card to hold the room. As planned, we arrived at the Doubletree Hotel at about 11:30 PM. When I went to the registration desk to check in, I was told that there were no rooms available. I was shocked! I presented them with a printout from our travel agent, which confirmed our guarantee for late arrival.

In search for a greater understanding of what a “guarantee for late arrival” meant, I asked to speak with the manager on duty. I asked him, “If we had not checked in tonight, would the hotel have billed our credit card for the room, even though there are no rooms available?” That’s when I learned that the Doubletree Hotel’s guarantee was only a one-way guarantee. He confirmed that this was their standard policy. Having difficulty comprehending this policy, I reframed the question: “So if we are paying for the room, why is someone else sleeping in it right now?” He informed me that the guarantee did not obligate them to provide accommodations in their hotel; it simply meant that they guaranteed we would have a place to sleep that night. As I stood at the counter, the desk attendant spent the next 20 minutes calling other hotels and motels in the area. Finally he informed me that they would put us up at no charge at the Prime Rate Motel down the road! Hardly the accommodations we had planned on… and “down the road” was 15 miles away!

When we returned home from our trip, I called the Doubletree Hotel headquarters in Phoenix to see if this was their corporate policy, or just the local policy for that particular location. I was shocked when their customer service rep informed me that this was “standard practice in the industry,” adding that “the airlines do it all the time.” From now on, when I know I will be checking in late, I ask explicit questions about a hotel’s policy regarding guaranteed late arrivals.

How High Do Mosquitoes Fly?

Of course, some things are simply beyond our control, and no amount of planning can guarantee a flawless vacation. I remember one of my first trips to Jakarta, Indonesia, where my husband’s brother and his family live. We had made the long flight halfway around the world, and I was exhausted. (A quick geography refresher: Jakarta is near the equator, and it is very hot and humid there.) We were staying in a nice hotel with the modern comforts of air conditioning and purified water… two important elements for me.

When we checked into the hotel, we were informed that they would be doing some electrical work on the elevator shafts, and would therefore be turning the electricity off for the entire hotel from 2:00 AM to 8:00 AM while they did the work. I thought to myself, “Well, by then I will be asleep and I won’t even notice it.”

Boy, was I wrong! At 2:40 AM I woke up in a sweat. By 3:00 AM I was really hot and sticky. I had a brilliant idea! We were on the 12th floor, and I decided to open the windows to let in some fresh air. There were no screens on the windows, but I figured that we were high enough off the ground that it would be safe to open them. I made an assumption that mosquitoes would not fly that high. Again, I was wrong. Within a few minutes I had 32 mosquito bites covering my body and more were buzzing in my ear. Now I was not only hot and sticky, but I also felt like one huge, itchy, miserable welt. (My husband only had two mosquito bites. For some reason, mosquitoes have always liked me more than him.) We ended up leaving our hotel room and walking around the lobby the rest of the night.

Ten Tips for Planning Your Vacation

I hope that by sharing my personal experiences, you will avoid learning similar lessons the hard way. And it goes to show that those little details in the planning of a vacation can make a huge difference in the outcome. You can make your next vacation relaxing and enjoyable by following these simple vacation planning tips.

1. Keep your vacation planning information in one place. Create a labeled file folder (“Hawaii Vacation”) and use it to keep your airline, hotel, car rental information, as well as maps or AAA guide books, tourist information, contact information for people you know in that city, etc.  To read about some programs related to travel that you can download onto a handheld organizer, check out the applications mentioned on the Handango Website.

2. Plan ahead for your wardrobe. Think about all of the activities you might do, and imagine what you’d want to wear for each activity. For example, on the beach you might want a swimsuit, cover-up, slip-on footwear or water shoes, a sun hat, sunglasses… maybe even a face mask, snorkel, and some flippers. Will the kids want shovels and buckets to build a sand castle? Do you need to supply your own beach towel, or will you be staying somewhere that supplies this for you? What about waterproof sunscreen? The more you can visualize yourself on the beach, the better prepared you will be. One helpful tool I’ve found for wardrobe planning is a Website that offers historical weather averages for thousands of cities around the globe. http://www.worldclimate.com/

3. Use a travel checklist. I’ve created a Packing List to get you started. Once you’ve tailored this to your needs, keep it in the travel file you’ve created. This will help you remember to pack both the basic necessities, as well as some of the more obscure things you might not remember but would want to take with you. http://www.orgcoach.net/packlist.html

4. Let children pack their own travel bags, and make sure their bag is small enough that they can carry it themselves. Help them select things they can do on the road or in the air: Walkman and cassettes or CDs, books, handheld video games, portable crafts, card games. Talk about seating arrangements ahead of time to avoid conflict among siblings about who will sit where.

5. Pack a carry-on that is small enough to stay with you at all times. Include necessities that you must have, in the event that you get separated from your other luggage for a day. If you need to take medication on a regular basis, be sure this is with you, and not in your checked luggage. If you are combining a business and vacation trip and need something for a presentation the next day, take it in your carry-on rather than checking it.

6. Plan early to get the best selection and to get early booking discounts.  If you’re really adventuresome and are not particular about where you want to go, you can also book reservations last-minute. There is some risk involved in doing this, but you can also get some great deals this way. CheapTickets sells surplus seats, a.k.a. “distressed inventory,” at some great bargains. If you have any concerns about your safety while traveling to a particular destination, you might check out a Website that offers a report on global hot spots to avoid.

I’ve recently found a wonderful Website called SideStep, which does a search of more than 70 travel-related Websites and finds the best AVAILABLE flights, hotels, and rental cars on a given date. Many Websites will find the “best deals” but when you go to the site you discover that they are sold out for the dates you want. This site does not waste your time if a flight is sold out. For more links to some helpful travel-related sites, visit the travel section of my Links to Great Sites page.

For who insist on combining business and pleasure during your travels, I offer 10 Tips to Tame the Paper Tiger When You Travel. http://www.orgcoach.net/traveltips.html

7. If you’re driving, you may wish to map out your trip ahead of time and make hotel reservations along the way if you are traveling during peak vacation time. Mapquest offers a helpful Website for mapping out your route and estimating travel time under normal driving conditions.

8. If you’re traveling to another country, check out the Currency Converter for International Exchange Rates. If you’d like to master a few useful phrases in a foreign language, visit the Foreign Language Assistance Website. It even contains some sound clips so you can pronounce words properly.

9. If your vacation plans include staying home rather than traveling, plan how you will spend your vacation to rejuvenate yourself. Perhaps there are some local attractions that you’ve been wanting to experience but have not had the time to experience. Are there people you want to connect with? Get clear about what you want to do and who you want to do it with, and then plan to make it happen. If your vacation includes having a friend or relative flying in to visit you, you can check the status of a flight to see if they will arrive on time. You can even get a real-time map of the plane and its progress, based on radar data. http://www.flightview.com/

Visit Earthcam to view hundreds of images from all over the world without leaving your chair. The digital images are updated regularly, and some are live.

10. This is the most important tip of all: pack  the right attitude. Let go of the “what if” and enjoy the moment. Remind yourself what matters most, and focus on that. If this is a vacation to get away and relax, then focus on activities and thoughts that will be relaxing. If your goal is to reconnect with family and build memories together, that can be done regardless of circumstances (missing a flight, not getting tickets to an event you wanted to attend, etc.). If your goal is to sight-see and take in some special attractions or shows, then plan ahead and make the reservations necessary to ensure that you can do what you want to do when you get there.

Kathy Paauw, President of Paauwerfully Organized, specializes in helping busy executives, professionals, and entrepreneurs declutter their schedules, spaces and minds. She is a certified business/personal coach and professional organizer. Contact her at mailto:orgcoach@gte.net or visit her Website at http://www.orgcoach.net and learn how you can Find ANYTHING in 5 Seconds – Guaranteed!

High Protein Diets, Are you losing more than weight?

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By Monique N. Gilbert

Protein is a vital nutrient, essential to your health.  In its purest form, protein consists of chains of amino acids.  There are 22 amino acids that combine to form different proteins, and 8 of these must come from the foods we eat.  Our body uses these amino acids to create muscles, blood, skin, hair, nails and internal organs.  Proteins help replace and form new tissue, transports oxygen and nutrients in our blood and cells, regulates the balance of water and acids, and is needed to make antibodies.  However, too much of a good thing may not be so good for you.

Many people are putting their health at risk by eating too much protein.  Excessive protein consumption, particularly animal protein, can result in heart disease, stroke, osteoporosis, and kidney stones.  As important as protein is for our body, there are many misconceptions about how much we really need in our diet, and the best way to obtain it.

The average American eats about twice as much protein than what is actually required.  Some people, in the pursuit of thinness, are going on high-protein diets and are eating up to four times the amount of protein that their body needs.  Protein deficiency is certainly not a problem in America.  So exactly how much protein does your body really need?  Much less than you think.

According to the American Heart Association and the National Institutes of Health, as little as 50-60 grams of protein is enough for most adults.  This breaks down to about 10-12% of total calories.  Your body only needs .36 grams of protein per pound of body weight.  To calculate the exact amount you need, multiply your ideal weight by .36.  This will give you your optimum daily protein requirement in grams.  Since the amount of protein needed depends on the amount of lean body mass and not fat, ideal weight is used instead of actual weight.  Infants, children, pregnant and nursing women require more protein.

People on high-protein diets are consuming up to 34% of their total calories in the form of protein and up to 53% of total calories from fat.  Most of these people are unaware of the amount of protein and fat that is contained in the foods they eat.  For instance, a typical 3-ounce beef hamburger, which is small by American standards, contains about 22 grams of protein and 20 grams of fat.  You achieve quick weight loss on these diets because of this high fat content.  High fat foods give you the sensation of feeling full, faster, so you end up eating fewer total calories.  However, this type of protein and fat combination is not the healthiest.  Animal proteins are loaded with cholesterol and saturated fat.  Many people on these diets also experience an elevation in their LDL (the bad) cholesterol when they remain on this diet for long periods.  High levels of LDL cholesterol in the blood clog arteries and is the chief culprit in heart disease, particularly heart attack and stroke.  So while you may lose weight in the short-run, you are putting your cardiovascular health in jeopardy in the long-run.

Another reason weight loss is achieved on these high-protein diets, at least temporarily, is actually due to water loss.  The increase in the amount of protein consumed, especially from meat and dairy products, raises the levels of uric acid and urea in the blood.  These are toxic by-products of protein breakdown and metabolism.  The body eliminates this uric acid and urea by pumping lots of water into the kidneys and urinary tract to help it flush out.  However, a detrimental side effect of this diuretic response is the loss of essential minerals from the body, including calcium.  The high intake of protein leaches calcium from the bones, which leads to osteoporosis.

Medical evidence shows that the body loses an average of 1.75 milligrams of calcium in the urine for every 1 gram increase in animal protein ingested. Additionally, as calcium and other minerals are leached from our bones, they are deposited in the kidneys and can form into painful kidney stones.  If a kidney stone becomes large enough to cause a blockage, it stops the flow of urine from the kidney and must be removed by surgery or other methods.

Plant-based proteins, like that found in soy, lowers LDL cholesterol and raises HDL (the good) cholesterol.  This prevents the build up of arterial plaque which leads to arteriosclerosis (hardening of the arteries) and heart disease, thus reducing the risk heart attack and stroke.  The amount and type of protein in your diet also has an important impact on calcium absorption and excretion.  Vegetable-protein diets enhance calcium retention in the body and results in less excretion of calcium in the urine.  This reduces the risk of osteoporosis and kidney problems.  Interestingly, kidney disease is far less common in people who eat a vegetable-based diet than it is in people who eat an animal-based diet.  By replacing animal protein with vegetable protein and replacing saturated fat with unsaturated fat, like that found in olive and canola oils, you can avoid the pitfalls of the typical high-protein diet. You will be able to improve your health and regulate your weight while enjoying a vast array of delicious, nutritionally dense, high fiber foods.

Remember, eat everything in moderation and nothing in excess.  Also, the only healthy way to achieve permanent weight loss is to burn more calories than you take in.  Anything else is just a gimmick.

To learn more about the health benefits of soy, visit the Virtues of Soy
website at http://www.geocities.com/virtuesofsoy/

About this writer: Monique N. Gilbert, B.Sc., is a Health Advocate, Certified Personal Trainer/Fitness Counselor, Recipe Developer, Freelance Writer and Author. Visit her site at http://www.geocities.com/virtuesofsoy/

Monique N. Gilbert,  Soy Food  Connoisseur, Recipe Developer and Author of… “Virtues of Soy: A Practical Health Guide and Cookbook” (Universal Publishers, 2001).

Monique N. Gilbert, B.Sc., has received international recognition for helping people get healthier, feel better, look younger and live longer. Through her coaching program and writings, Monique motivates, inspires and teaches how to naturally enhancing your health, happiness, energy and longevity with balanced nutrition, physical activity and tranquil living environments. Monique believes it is her mission to educate and enlighten everyone about the benefits of healthy eating and a vibrant stress-free lifestyle. For more information, visit her website – http://www.MoniqueNGilbert.com

The Church of Tango

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By Cherie Magnus

It was known as La Cat’dral. Not easy to find in Buenos Aires’ dark side streets at three in the morning–no signs, no cars, no people in front. But once I climbed the stairs to the second floor of the old warehouse, I could hear the siren call of music. It was eerie and scary, mounting those stairs alone, but I was helpless to do otherwise, a pilgrim drawn to the altar of Tango.

The room was huge, like the inside of a barn, all wood. It was barely lit by large candelabra with most of the candles melted into pools of silky wax, some votive flames, and a few strings of fairy lights. It smelled of cat piss and dusky marijuana. A bar ran the width of the room in back, with gigantic paintings hanging over it all the way to the rafters. Shadowy figures were sitting around the room on the lumpy funky old couches and broken chairs, their conversations punctuated by the smoldering ends of their cigarettes moving in the dark.

At first I could only see the silhouettes of dancers through the smoke. Three or four couples on the warped, uneven wooden dance floor, moved, not to Pugliese or Tanturi, but to Louis Armstrong’s “Kiss of Fire.” A tall figure approached out of the gloom. “Quieres bailar?” He was young, muscular, handsome, with black rimmed glasses framing eyes that sparkled with cocaine excitement. He was so tall I had to reach up very high to wrap my left arm around his neck. He held me tight and led me with brute machismo, so unlike the subtle leads of the old milongeuros I had danced with at Club Almagro earlier that night. When I leaned against him in the traditional tango pose of female trust, he dragged me across the floor, lifted me back on my feet, turned and twisted me, giving me no opportunity to embellish or decorate his steps. I simply obeyed the movements his body ordered. It was different, exhilarating, exhausting.

“You don’t really need to work out at the gym, do you?” I asked during a break in the music. “No, I eat red Argentine beef full of blood! Blood! To make me strong!”

His eyes glittered, muscles rippled under his tight tee shirt, testosterone energy creating an almost visible aura around him. Breathless, I had to sit out the next set and recover on an old velvet sofa. I watched people arriving and leaving in the candlelight, with their high heeled tango shoes and backpacks. The informality of the setting and the dancers’ attire and attitude clashed with the formal tango they danced so seriously. It was like watching a play: pure mesmerizing theatre.

Armed with two years of tango experience in Los Angeles, New York and Amsterdam, and with knowledge gleaned from a trip to Argentina last year, I had flown off to Buenos Aires alone. I had no plans to connect with a group or to take any lessons. I simply went to dance tango.

I rented a room in the middle-class neighborhood of Caballito. Three other rooms in the apartment were rented to dancers, and the vivacious landlady, Maria Teresa, was a tanguera too. So whenever we met up with each other in the kitchen or the lone bathroom, we had plenty to talk about.

You can dance in Buenos Aires from after lunch until five in the morning. In the afternoon, the tables in the Confiteria Ideal–an elegant Belle Epoque ballroom of marble and mirrors–are littered with the cell phones of businessmen and housewives, also frosty ice buckets with bottles of sparkling sidra, the Argentine apple-cider champagne. Evenings you can go to practicas or take lessons until midnight. Then everyone hits the tango halls until the sun comes up. Repeatedly I went to bed with birds chirping and sunlight brightening the curtains of my room.

Every day, my friends and I discussed who danced where and with whom as if tango were the most important subject on earth. If I lived in Argentina, I would never work. I surmised that the dancers of Buenos Aires don’t keep a 9-5 schedule. Either that or they never sleep.

One night Maria Teresa drove us to Sin Rumbo. The historic milonga is far out of town, but famous as the “birthplace of tango.” Maria Teresa called it the “church of tango,” the genuine tango cathedral.

It was very different from La Cat’dral The harsh overhead florescent lighting illuminated a dozen people seated at tables and a few couples on the small, black and white checkered floor. The dancing style was more open, less crowded than in the packed town clubs. One couple caught my eye: a middle-aged pair a foot apart performing complicated figures with bored faces. “Married too long,” observed Maria Teresa, whose day job was as a psychologist.

Torquato Tasso was another small, cramped, inelegant tango hall, yet famous nevertheless. At first I couldn’t see why. Jetlagged and tired, I wanted to leave by two a.m. But when twelve white-haired portly men in tuxedos took the small stage, I hung around. Luckily for me, because they were the original members of the famous D’Arienzo Orchestra. With five bandoneons (Argentine accordions), a piano, violins, and double bass, they recreated the fabulous music of the 40′s and 50′s that all tango aficionados cherish.

I asked Maria Teresa, “Do you agree that the bandoneon is the sexiest instrument a man can play?” “Ooh yes!”she laughed. “Just look where they hold it!”

Tuesday and Thursday afternoons I went to Pavadita on Avenida Corrientes. It too was upstairs, and after parting the velvet draperies at the top, I smelled the incense, burning to mask the musky stale odors of the windowless hall. At Pavadita, the men sit on a kind of stage at little tables, and the women sit in front of the bar and scattered around the room. Each time the music begins, men and women stare at each other across the empty dance floor. The women select the men they want as partners, and the men respond–or not–with raised eyebrows and inquisitive looks. After a woman nods affirmatively, the man gets up, crosses the room, and, when he’s close to her, she stands up and meets him ready to dance. These negotiations are invisible to all but the participants, and serve to prevent the embarrassment of public refusal. It’s a heady thing for us female tango tourists who are not used to it.

We catch the eye of a man who has just lit a cigarette and crossed his legs in a pose of relaxation…but suddenly he stubs it out and arrives in front of us to dance just because we looked at him.

I had already learned the infamous Code of Tango, and so I knew what was expected of me and how to behave. It’s all about invitation, wanting, rejection, needing, appearance, sensuality, attitude, sex.

I saw that young women are always invited to dance, no matter their skill levels, and old women hardly ever receive invitations, unless it is as favors from a friend or husband. And all the men wishing to dance, no matter their age, looks, or status, can tango as much as they liked.

Men wanted good-looking women; women cared more about the tango skills of their partner. That’s unfair, but it is a man’s world on the tango floor, always.

It is difficult to sit at a table with a man you like while he’s searching the room for prospective dance partners. Too, if you sit with a man, other dancers will ignore you, not wanting to infiltrate another guy’s “territory.” But the fellow at your table can catch the eye of any woman in the room and leave you to dance with her. That’s the Code.

The milongueros (tango hall habitues) of Buenos Aires are not young. They have had many years to perfect their art, are always formally dressed in wool suits and ties no matter the weather, and invariably smell of soap and French cologne. I love dancing in their traditional close embrace. For the milongueros there is only the milonguero style.

On my first trip I was absolutely petrified every time I was asked to dance. This year Carlos Gavito, Omar Vega, and other tango superstars approached me as if they were just anybody–or I was really someone.

At Club Gricel, I was afraid to look at Gavito for fear that he would think me too aggressive. I had taken a few lessons from him in Los Angeles when he was on tour with “Forever Tango,” so we knew each other a little. At the milongas, Gavito only danced with the best and the youngest women. Yet, from the corner of my eye, I saw him stand up, button his jacket, and walk around the dance floor to my table. Oh my gosh, I thought, glancing behind me in vain for the woman who was the object of his invitation. When he returned me to my table ten minutes later, the local women sitting with me were astonished. I could just hear the buzz: “Who is she?”

On my last day in Buenos Aires I danced an impromptu demonstration in the park with Antonio, a handsome milonguero who owned only the elegant suit of clothes on his back. We tangoed beneath a huge fig tree to music from a boombox tied to the bicycle of a grizzled old man. Elderly couples, young children, even a woman in a wheelchair, all cheered and threw money and candy at us while we danced. It was a miracle that I could glide so gracefully over the rough bricks in backless high wedgies with rubber soles.

Thank goodness I had prayed at La Cat’dral.

With degrees in English, Dance, and Library Science from UCLA, Cherie has published many articles in professional journals and magazines. Her solo travels to Europe and Latin America have inspired several pieces published in Skirt!, PassionFruit, Moxie, JourneyWoman, Dancing USA, GoNomad, Open Spaces, Porthole, The Cusco Weekly, the-vu, and various online magazines. She was the dance critic for the Cerritos News in Orange County, California before moving to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. She is currently at work on a novel situated in France, when she’s not out dancing. Follow her blog at http://tangocherie.blogspot.com/

The Swooshing of My Thighs

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By S.D.Craig

Oh, the wonders of society, when they came up with the word “cellulite” for us women of thighs. We now had a name for that cottage cheese dimpling our legs, God help us. It’s kind of like PMS, isn’t it? Now that they’ve actually given a name out loud for it, we’ve all got it. There are meds for it, there are prescriptions written by the oodles for it, we must have it then. I wouldn’t doubt there are clothes for it by now.

The thighs have long since been one of the seven wonders of the world. Okay, maybe the ninth. They have been lean, tanned, muscular and toned. They have been wobbly, sickly, white and pasty in Winter, and downright jiggly. They have stood us up for years, and yet, we hate them. We want to trade with someone with cool thighs. Someone with legs to their armpits.

One of the most annoying things about having heavier legs than normal is that noise. You know the one. The whispering of thighs in certain materials. Pantyhose, silk, satin, that warm-up suit you wear. The noise means your thighs are too big. It means, oh dear, that you cannot see through them.

For a big woman, I have always had this dream that one day a man could stand behind me, yes, and really see through my thighs. Not THROUGH them, but between them. Yes, air. Those legs like Ally McBeal has, when she stands there, you can see through her thighs. It’s disgusting, isn’t it? I mean, Ally needs some fat. Good Lord, in a breeze, the girl will fall over, I’m sure of it.

But I hang around, continue to walk, swim, do a bit of Tai Boxing here and there. All this in hopes that not only will my health be better, maybe I’ll drop some weight, but it’s the swooshing of the thighs thing.

You might think I’m odd, but I’d like to hear other things, as I move about. Like a conversation, music, the tinkling of wind chimes, the bird singing overheard, the sky thundering, cars honking. Maybe my Walkman. Can I hear it? With all the swooshing going on, I want one thing.

I want silence when I walk.

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

Drunk on Tango in Argentina

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By Kim Knode

Award-winning filmmaker, Adam Boucher declares, “I like to make documentaries like Tango: The Obsession as a discovery process which I can share with the audience.” Apparently audiences take pleasure in exploring subjects such as tango in Argentina together with Boucher. After a showing at the Smithsonian Institute in 1999, the Argentine Embassy was moved to declare Boucher’s documentary, “a significant film.” (Also, in the April of 2001, a representative from Jungle Films reports that recently a request for two thousand video versions of the film came in from Germany.)

The 1999 Marin County Film Festival also acknowledged the significance of the “Tango” and awarded Boucher first place. In the same year, at an Orlando, Florida film festival, despite the sold-out performances, Tango: The Obsession took second place. (The opinion poll after each screening may have influenced the ranking.)

The thirty-something director shifts his slight five-foot nine frame in a black easy chair as he starts to tell me about Orlando. (Outside, the twilight shadows fall on the streets of Santa Monica.) Inside my brightly lit office, I can see Boucher slightly blush. He grins and his green eyes flash as he confesses; “I got in an argument with a guy in the audience about tango.”

Boucher strikes me as a sweet, mild-mannered man. (He chose Argentine tango as a topic for his first film because he wanted to learn about the dance that “made my mom’s life happier and better.”  Boucher also dedicated the movie to his mother.) So I am momentarily surprised by a streak of the confrontational in Boucher. But then I remember that everyone has an opinion about the Argentine dance. (Not one dancer that Boucher interviews in Tango: The Obsession is neutral on the subject.)

Carlos Copello of The Tango Lesson (film) and Forever Tango (stage) fame compares tango to a drug.  In Boucher’s documentary, the Nureyev of tango mimes a drug addict shooting up. “It’s like you start to give yourself tango injections – continuous tango injections,” he says.

Despite the best efforts of his teacher, Boucher did not get addicted to the Argentine dance.  His  instructor?  Ten-year old, Geraldine Rejas, (featured in the film) started lessons at age four.

“Why did you choose a child?” I ask.

“She picked me,” he replies. “Geraldine was a good teacher. And there wasn’t the sexual tension of being in the arms of a woman.” He explains that tango with contemporaries is a little intimidating. “I mean what usually takes two or three dates (in North America)…You’re doing on the dance floor!”

Seduction and sexual tension is a part of the tango.  However, Boucher and his movie embrace a larger truth about the scintillating dance. “It is like a meditation,” says the documentary filmmaker. “There is no talking. And you can almost hear each other’s heart beat.” Boucher takes a sip of water and continues, “I experienced many of my ‘moments’ (of epiphany) dancing to “La Mariposa” – “The Butterfly” by Osvaldo Pugliese.”

“I get transformed because I get absorbed in what I’m doing. I don’t think about this or that. I just think about what I’m doing,” is how Margarita in Tango answers Boucher’s questions about the impact of the Latin dance on her life.

The swarthy, middle-aged Margarita matter-of-factly states in the film: “I was taught to dance by my mom’s brother.” (When she was six and seven years of age, she practiced her steps with a broomstick.)

Another lady in her forties, Boucher interviews in Tango: The Obsession whispers that daughters from good homes were not permitted to attend the late night tangos. So the younger girls picked up steps from older cousins. And then practiced with one another at home.

Besides the class restrictions to enter the milongas (dance salons), in tango’s earlier days in Argentina, only adults were allowed in. One man with a huge smile and gaps between his teeth sips espresso and elaborates on the details of his youth with delight into Boucher’s camera. He speaks of sneaking in with other little boys to watch Argentina’s experts twist, tangle and turn with ladies in stiletto heels. “We would hide and then do what they did.” (His initial tango training also started at home with older relatives.)

Thanks to his dancing mother’s connections to Copello, Boucher was granted entrance and access into the authentic (no-tourists-type) Argentine tango clubs.  However, all the credit goes to Boucher for his ability to create intimate conversations on camera while delving into the heart of the tango dancer.

He tells me he spent hours “hanging out” with lovers of tango to gain their trust. (In and out of the dance halls, time was spent munching media lunas (a half moon croissant) and downing “watered down versions of Italian espresso.”) He says, “In Argentina, it is common to share espresso with a fellow tanguero. In fact, they drink one after another.” Boucher states, “I am not particularly a coffee man. However, friends are treated like family. And quality time like drinking a coffee together is cherished.”  The filmmaker smiles and says, “So under those conditions how could someone not love coffee?”

Boucher may also have needed the extra boost from the caffeine. It is evident that the director did hours of homework on the history of the dance. Countless frames of black and white footage and sepia tone prints illustrate the emergence of tango. In addition, interviews with historians illuminate the beginnings of Argentine tango.  (Boucher’s clips with the so-called intellectuals of society – the historians – also take on the tone of a friendly chat on a street corner.)

One of the attention-grabbing moments of Tango: The Obsession was the proclamation that Italian immigrants were instrumental in the development of the dance.  Photos of the European men arriving in Argentina – a land of opportunity – exemplify some of the strains of melancholy, which filtered into the tango.

Tango: The Obsession demonstrates that Italians were not the only ones who needed a dance to deal with the blues. The early blacks of South America, the solitary gaucho, the stressed out citizen living in a high-tech society are all featured in the film.  Boucher’s probing camera lens provides insight (with his interviews and photographs) into why tango becomes an obsession. He gives us a glimpse into the lives of tango dancers who answer the call to touch and hear each other’s heart beat.

To order the film in VHS or PAL format or simply to learn more about Tango: The Obsession:
On the web: go to http://www.tangovideos.com/ or Amazon.com. You can also directly contact the distributor, Jungle Films: Jungle Films 11271 Ventura Boulevard, PMB512 Studio City, CA 91604 Tel: 818-771-8668 Fax: 818-753-8305

Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.

Tango in the Twilight

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By Kim Knode

At a recent Southern California United States Amateur Ballroom Dancers (USABDA) competition (held at the Glendale Civic Auditorium), I caught up with Dr. James Kleinrath.  The good doctor, a retired dentist, is the reigning three-time National Senior Smooth Champion along with his dance partner and love of four years, Melody Singleton. (They will defend their title in Salt Lake City in August at the USABDA National DanceSport Championship 2001.)

I arrived in time to see the couple whirling around the dance floor with a vigorous Viennese waltz, a snappy Astaire-Rogers foxtrot and a tango with sharp hairpin turns. I watched almost in a state of disbelief.  “This is the Championship Senior American Smooth division?” I had to double check. “This division is reserved for seniors, right?”

In the USABDA arena, a senior is someone who is fifty-plus. The athletic ability of the older dancers is remarkable. The lifts, spins and all the other steps the younger kids are doing are demonstrated with pleasure filled eyes and smiles.

After stepping off the floor, Singleton keeps her adrenalin going by running! The statuesque brunette (looking like an advertisement for Jane Fonda workout videos) sprints off to change costumes for the next event.  (The confident senior champions have entered another event featuring competition between ballroom dancers aged thirty-five and up.)

Kleinrath needs no change of apparel. He is dressed in a tuxedo that serves as a standard outfit for men competing in the “smooth dances” like the waltz, tango and foxtrot. I tap him on the shoulder and ask for an interview. Despite the tails, he still gives the appearance of an eagle scout. Kleinrath stretches every inch of his 5’10” skyward.  His chestnut colored hair is combed flat. And his brown eyes dance with delight. Kleinrath’s boyish grin also reveals an eagerness to do his duty – to share the joy of ballroom dancing after fifty.

His energetic voice matches the youthful appearance. “What do I love about ballroom dancing? Well, It’s wonderful to move to music!” declares Kleinrath.  Like a delighted schoolboy he continues, “I particularly enjoy the lead and follow aspect of ballroom dancing.”

Indeed, ballroom dancing (also called DanceSport) takes two to tango and maneuver one response to the stimulus on the dance floor.  The wildcard elements of the traffic created by the patterns other couples weave on the dance floor in addition to the music all ensconce ballroom dancing in a bit of mystery.  And Kleinrath loves it because, “A new dance is created every time!”

Did the former dentist always dance?  He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. Twelve years ago, after a divorce, I went to my first ballroom dance class to meet women.” He may not have encountered the female fantasy of his dreams; but Kleinrath fell head over heels in love with ballroom dancing!

For Kleinrath the pastime quickly transformed into a preoccupation.  Presently, “Melody and I spend about fifteen to twenty hours training in the studio,” says the dentist turned dancer.  “Plus, we train with two professional dancers in San Francisco.” The senior champion acknowledges that, “Dancing at the competitive level requires a great time commitment.”

“I am grateful that I found the profession of dentistry when I was younger because it gave me something useful and important to do.  Today, it gives me the financial means to pursue competitive dancing.” Flashing his pearly whites, the former dentist says, “There are many times I stand in the dance studio thinking there is nowhere else I would rather be.”

I ask if his food and fitness routines changed after he took up dancing. “Not much,”  he says. “I decided many years ago that regular exercise and weight control are important no matter what else is going on in my life. And both Melody and I are runners, we both have been running over twenty years.”

Surely with all the time in the dance studio they do not run now?  “Oh yes.  We do about fifteen miles a week. I also do a one-hour workout in the gym with weight (lifting) machines three times a week. And Melody does stretches.”

Do they ever relax? “Both of us like theatre, music and dance performances,” replies Kleinrath.  (My mind flips to the articles I have read on professional basketball players closing their eyes and visualizing perfect free throws. Sounds to me like more preparatory material and memorization of winning moves for the dance floor!)

The champion dancer continues, “We do like movies. And Melody likes to cook up low-fat meals with interesting sauces for us.” (He adds, “Actually she likes cooking more than eating.”)

Singleton may whip up an irresistible béarnaise in the kitchen. But on the floor the duo really cook! By evening’s end, the couple cleans up with a first place trophy in the Championship Senior American Smooth (waltz, tango, Viennese waltz, foxtrot) category.  When competing with the thirty-somethings in Division B of the International Standards (which includes quickstep and the American Smooth dances with different rules about footwork and “frame”), the duo pick up a second place trophy.

The marks of the DanceSport judges are easy to understand. Trying to watch other couples when Kleinrath and Singleton are on the dance floor is a challenge.  There is something about people in love.  One cannot help but watch the exchange of smiles between the partners as they playfully interact with the audience.  (Kleinrath will send Singleton reeling very close to the lap of a seated audience member only to retrieve her to his side ever so smoothly.)

Also, the team’s choreography is unforgettable. In the middle of a waltz, Kleinrath will lift his lady into the air like an older Baryshnikov.  During a tango, Singleton flicks the skirt of her burgundy velvet gown (with a river of silver running through it – reminiscent of a Z) to create a Zorro-esque sweeping action.

Kleinrath confesses that the electricity audiences see on the dance floor sometimes turns into static off the competition stage. He admits that, “Competing together is very hard on a relationship. It’s so easy to fall into the ‘it’s your fault’ trap.”

He quietly states, “I have to give Melody a lot of credit here. She is very good at forgiving. With Melody I feel great acceptance.”

“And I think the main difference for me regarding relationships after fifty is also acceptance.  I don’t feel the need to make everything perfect.” Kleinrath explains, “So many times in past relationships I have felt great pressure to change my partner and/or myself.”

The dancer also confesses that in the area of diet he is not flawless either. “My favorite food is Mexican. When Melody and I are in a hurry, it’s usually Taco Bell!”

Neither Kleinrath nor Singleton are big on alcohol (a clear head is a must for maneuvering effectively around the dance floor).  However, “When I drink – which is seldom,” says Kleinrath, “I like mixed drinks. Melody enjoys sampling lesser known California and Australian wines.”

I ask Kleinrath about the champion-winning couple’s first dance together.  The first dance was apparently a smooth-as-silk Strauss waltz at a “large local dance.”  However, Kleinrath laughs as he recalls, “Our second dance together, we managed to entangle feet in a quickstep and fall down in front of four hundred people!”

From divorce to doing the tango with a devastatingly dazzling brunette and from novice to national dance champion, James Kleinrath proves there is wisdom in the adage, “Practice makes perfect” in the twilight years.

Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.

Memorial Day Weekend, One To Remember, for sure!

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Memorial Day Weekend, One To Remember, for sure!
How a novice hiker almost put the Death into Death Valley

By Frank Moss
Frank Moss is new to hiking but his story, told here in his own words acts as a warning to the inexperienced and a reminder to the accomplished hiker, of just how dangerous extreme temperatures can be.

The weekend was coming up, and I was getting excited about going camping in Death Valley. The location was my idea, I had heard from other people about Death Valley and I wanted to see it for myself. Since this was my first camping trip in over fifteen years, I did not even have a sleeping bag, and there was so much I needed to buy.

My friend on this trip, whose name is Leticia, a strong East German girl who has been camping and hiking for ages, was certainly more experienced than me, so I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed.

Anyway, very early on the Friday morning of Memorial Day weekend, I started loading up my Toyota Solara , for the drive to Death Valley.

The car is actually quite big, but after I was folding the seats down and with just my equipment in it, it got quite full.  I knew Leticia would have everything but the kitchen sink but somehow we managed to get everything in the car, and get on the road. Well, that’s what I thought, but we had to first go to the office in Culver City where we both work and feed Leticia’s fishes.

Our first stop was in Mojave for breakfast, at the Road House Caf?.  The coffee was the worst I have had in 10 years (tell me something: why do all waitresses wear those white nurses shoes in old diners; I cannot take my eyes off them).

We got back on the road again and headed towards Death Valley.  It was so nice to be away from Gotham City. (This is what I call Los Angeles.)

I let Leticia drive my car, I never let anyone drive my car but she seemed responsible, even though I did keep my eye on the speedometer. I think it took nearly two hours from Mojave to reach the Wildrose campsite.  It was certainly hot, but bearable. My first impression of the campsite was “Oh my God”. It was just a stone road with small areas where you set up your tent.  I was looking for the nice grass, but nothing or no one around.

We looked around for a while, then we spotted someone who said we should go further up the hill where it would be better to camp. We started up the hill in my, well, I was going to say shiny-clean Toyota, which was by now full of white dust inside and out, and looked like it had been on a Safari. The road we were on was unbearable, as it was full of large heavy stones and I was in fear for my car. After about a mile we decided to turn around and go back down.

Next stop was Emigrant campsite, which took us about forty minutes to reach. This campsite was actually just right off the highway, but again nothing or no one around. One good thing was that we found some clean bathrooms to use. Leticia went, but I did not feel it was time. I have a fear of using bathrooms other than my own at home. I did bring my own toilet seat covers along, just in case I had to go, and I knew that time would come!

We got back on the road again, heading for Furnace Creek, which I prayed would be our final stop. I was getting hot and tired, being in the car all this time.  Leticia was still driving, and also doing a good job of map reading. Hey this girl could find her way out of the jungle if needed. Finally we arrived at Furnace Creek. Boy was it hot! I was dripping with sweat. Leticia did not make a fuss like I did.

We set up the tent and unpacked, and went over to the resort next door so we could get shower passes. This heat was tremendous; the temperature was 118 degrees in the afternoon. I just wanted to drink a large barrel of water; and I did.

Later on that evening we went over to sit by the pool to stay cool. Even the water in the pool was hot. We stayed there for a while, then took a shower. Sleeping that night was so unbearable, that we both slept on top of our sleeping bags. We both had a hard time sleeping. I think the temperature was still near 100 degrees. I had to watch it, sleeping next to Leticia, any slightest move, noise or slurping of drinks would surely cause me a big headache. Believe me, I had a tough one next to me, I am surprised my heart beat was not too loud for her.

Next day we both got up very early so we could hike before it got too hot. We headed towards Golden Canyon, which was just down the road.  It was 07.30am and was at least 102 degrees.

The hike started from Golden Canyon and ended at Zabriskie point, which was 5 miles roundtrip. We started the hike, which at the beginning was very pleasant, with the sky being deep blue against the rocks.

For the first twenty minutes the hike was not that hard, actually very pleasant.  The elevation did start to get higher, but I did not have a problem – yet!

One hour into the hike, gee, it was getting hotter, I was drinking so much of my water and had already finished a big bottle of Gatorade, whereas Leticia  had not even touched a drop of water. I also was talking too much and my mouth was starting to stick together. I was walking behind Leticia and just kept looking at her backpack, as she had a water bottle hanging out, and I could hear the water moving around in the bottle.

Okay, the time came where I collapsed; we were only half a mile from the top, I could see Zabriskie point. My legs were so tired and the heat was just beating down, it now was at least 118 degrees again.  Leticia took a photo of me washed out.  I did feel a bit bad for her as she loves to hike and I would have loved to complete the hike to the top.

Frank's collapse, photographed by Leticia.

We had a short rest, or I should say, I had a short rest.  Leticia did not even sit down maybe she was a robot or some type of Android – wow, that explains the coldness she portrays towards me.
We started back down and now I was thinking “I hope I can make it”, I was so done.  My water was very low, but I knew Leticia had plenty – not that I could get any off her.  I would have to be not breathing to get a drop. I found it hard going down, my legs were dragging as they had no strength in them, the robot next to me looked like she was out on a Sunday walk.

Leticia at the lower end of the hike

Leticia at the lower end of the hike

Finally I could see the bottom where my car was parked, it seemed forever just to get there.

Again I just collapsed at the car and threw whatever water I had all over my head. I had made it. I was alive. We both got in the car and blasted the air-conditioning on, wow, that felt awesome.

So, our last day in Death Valley we spent staying cool by the pool and drinking plenty of anything, mostly though some “Shandies” in the bar. (half Coors Light & half 7Up)

Next morning we packed up and headed out from this tremendous heat and Death Valley. I could feel the temperature getting cooler by the mile as I held my hand out of the window trying to scoop up any bit of cool air I could.

Death Valley Facts:

Death Valley has the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere at Badwater, with –282 ft. It has 3.3 million acres of spectacular desert scenery. The highest recorded temperature is 134 degrees Fahrenheit, at Furnace Creek in July of 1913.

In June of 2000, Death Valley claimed the life of tourist Gerhard Jonas who attempted to hike from Golden Canyon to Zabriskie point in 112 degree heat. He did not make it. He died from heat stroke. One year later, Frank Moss almost took his final hike on the same route in 118+ degree heat, but was able to return to tell the story.

Frank Moss is from Liverpool, England, but he has lived in the U.S.A. since the early 1980s. He is new to both hiking and writing.

A Cryin’ Slim

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By S.D. Craig

Okay, so they got to her.  Kate Winslett, our Titanic dame of curvaceous beauty.  The one who wasn’t afraid to show it all and flaunt her voluptuous ins and outs.  They’ve done it.

Hollywood has put the fear of slim in her.  If you ask me, it’s a crying shame.  Funny thing is, I know men love her.  They have flocked to her movies.  Those winsome white-skinned curves have cast their spell upon many males since Titanic splashed us.

Rose had a baby.

Well, then.  We all know that when a woman has a baby, she usually gains some extra weight.  It takes about nine to twelve months to lose these unwanted pounds, according to my gynecologist of record back then.  Apparently, Hollywood doesn’t want to hire a motherly Kate.  Oh dear, dear me.  And waiting isn’t an option for them.

Being a woman of curves, one that has fought diets and pounds for decades now, I resent that.  I resent it big.  The men of the universe appreciate a woman like Kate on the screen, one who just might not be crushed in a manly embrace.  One who could stand up to nursing her babies, holding one in each strong arm, and look sexy as hell doing so.

I beg for the men of the world to unite.  Vote for Kate and her wondrous figure.  We don’t want a tiny Rose, we don’t want a paper-thin model type.  We’ve seen what damage that can do to our society.  What message is Hollywood sending out to the young women, the teenagers, the adolescents?  Have a decent size twelve or fourteen shape and you’re out.  Bye bye.  Statistics have it that the average size in the USA is a size fourteen, in fact.

Our males want a real woman.  Just ask Trisha Yearwood about her song, Real Live Woman.  It’s an anthem that needs to be shared and heard around the world.  Let’s get our paints and paint the words on the streets of Hollywood, on Sunset Strip.  We’ll use fluorescent paint, won’t we?  Make it stick.  Make it permanent.

Let all our cries be heard.  Women are sick of this obsession with thin.  The media, press, magazines and advertisers are hurting our girls.  do away with paranoia, anorexia and bulimia.  Let our children grow without the fear of fat.  The fear of their looks being the most important thing besides making money.

Who said that anyway?  They should be whipped.  I’ve got a hitching post and a crop ready to go, send them my way.  We’re killing our kids, we’re destroying wonderful women’s egos and all for what?  So that bones can show in their cleavage?  So that they dress like boys in the movies?

Oh, bless her heart, wouldn’t Marilyn be mortified?  And Kate, dear Kate.  She once was quoted as saying in 1998, “I’m happy with the way I am.  I’m not like American film stars.”  But damn, double damn.  These Americans have finally gotten to her.  She succumbed to the hype.  She wants to “get her baby weight off.”  Most women do.  But that Hollywood won’t hire Winslett due to that is preposterous.  We’re going to see the acting, aren’t we?  The talent?  Oh, but maybe not.

During her last publicity tour for her recent movie, “Quills,” it was almost painful for me to hear Kate say, “It’s so insane and bloody boring (to diet).  I despise myself for it and feel I’m letting a lot of people down…  I constantly wave the flag of ‘Don’t go on diets because they are rubbish,’ but I’d like to get a bit of the baby weight off or I won’t work.”

What Hollywood now tells us by their default actions is that they want thin, they want toned and fit.  Okay.  Understood.  But not agreed.  For the more fit, toned and thin these actresses become, the less believable and real they are, their films are, and they and we’ve lost a lot in the bargain, along with their pounds.  Haven’t we?  Be honest here.

In a recent article I read, the man complained about this situation with Kate Winslett and Hollywood.  He said that the less real the movies become (by using gaunt actresses), the more trouble it creates for the normal women, and for him.  He can no longer convince a curvy date that she’s lovely, or even make her see that she doesn’t have to have perfection in her man either.  It’s a double-edged loss, I’m afraid.  A sad one.

If we worried about men as much as our diets (and figures), they might not have to go through living with us during the phases of starvation.  It’s not a fun thing to co-exist with.  And, well, our men like to have fun with us.  They don’t like to see the struggles, the hurts, the painful way of getting slender.  A woman becomes so focused on how she wants to look, she forgets to have fun today, as she is now.  Oh so damned sad.

What I worry about almost as much as what it’s doing to society and our children, is that being slim doesn’t mean happiness.  After all we’d go through to get there, are we truly happy?  Can we buy that?  Can we make that?  No.  And in the process, what else did we lose along the way?

Say no, Kate.  We don’t want you without hips, without breasts, without a motherly glow.  Didn’t anyone tell you how sexy that is?

A rose is but a rose…

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.