Beth Broderick: Wit and Wisdom for the Ages from the Aged

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick Sometimes it happens. I will see a place, or taste a food, or hear a song and be flooded with memories. The search for a new smoke-free environment has led me to some nostalgic locales. This has been a welcome distraction from the drudgery involved in looking for a new apartment. The endless scrolling past ad after ad for the new mixed-use buildings which now dominate the landscape, hoping for a bit of charm, a scintilla of originality, can wear a person down.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick I have begged and pleaded. The building manager has spoken with them many times over the course of a year, but my neighbors are deaf to our entreaties. They continue to smoke inside and outside of their apartments. The fellow above me smokes in the bathroom and bedroom, which constantly floods my hallways and rooms with carcinogens. They smoke in the units below me and above me, beside me and across the way.

I made time, which is not easy, as my not-so-subtle workaholic tendencies always put up quite the argument. Yes, I should have stayed home and worked on the many projects that are crying out for my attention. Yes, there are lists of things that need to be done. Print Bob’s script. Pose with Ivy Cove bag. Letter to building management to report neighbor for smoking in the bathroom. Book flight. Pick up SSD 1 TB for the ballet company, whatever the hell that is. All on the to-do, on the should-be-done.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.” It was twenty-five minutes into the flight from Miami to Newark, New Jersey, too late for the standard welcome speech that is often given from the cockpit. The one where he or she (but let’s face it, still mostly he) welcomes the passengers on board, introduces the names and home city of the flight attendants, and then gives a quick rundown of how the flight should go.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick On Saturday, I was three pages into the new column for today when I somehow accidentally hit a series of keys that sent the material into the ether. Gone. Deleted. Never to be seen again. Gol dang it!!! This new keyboard bedevils me. The configuration has led to the constant insertion of the number three into one out of six words that I type. My fingers somehow graze it on their way to a t or e or d.

Beth Broderick: Wit and Wisdom for the Ages from the Aged Podcast Dream Life 1× 0:00 Current time: 0:00 / Total time: -9:49 -9:49 Audio playback is not supported on your browser. Please upgrade. Dream Life (With Audio) Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick I can dream, can’t I? I live in a fantasy world for a not-insubstantial portion of every day. My mind fixates on an idea for a business, or a new place to live, or a complete change in course on my career path. I have done this all of my life.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick We had seen it, some time ago: the sign for the “California Botanical Garden.” It sits on 846 acres in Claremont, a historic and quiet community about 40 minutes south of Los Angeles as the crow flies. It is one of many smaller interior California cities that are chock-full of history, including Azusa, Arcadia, Glendora, and Upland, just to name a few.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick “She’s coming today. Pray for me.” “Oh, boy. Did you hide your laptop?” “Shoot! No, I forgot. Thanks for the reminder.” Jeremy, Jeff, and I all employ M.E., a housekeeper who came highly recommended by my old pal Don. He was absolutely right about how thorough she is. Cleans the place down to the nubs, but he left out the part about her being a one-woman wrecking ball.

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick Genius. It is sometimes hard work to earn the designation. The New York Times puzzles are not designed for giver-uppers. A person can stare at the boxes which contain the words one hopes to group together in CONNECTIONS for a good while, trying in vain to see what binds them in a category. The hints are there, hiding in plain sight if one has the fortitude to suss them out. Perhaps they are all a shade of green?

Wit and Wisdom by Beth Broderick “The AV Heart Block is still there.” The new heart specialist was reading my EKG. “Still first degree, I hope?”, I asked “Yes. No change from the last report with us. The chart says you were here three years ago.” “Sounds about right. The Rheumatology folks are always asking me to come back here, just to be certain that the medication I take is not causing any problems. I never had the AV block thing until I took Humira for a year.