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With Every Breath We Take

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With Every Breath We Take       When I moved to LA in the 70s, I could see and taste the air most days. And it was never birthday cake flavored like one of today’s delicious vape concoctions. During runs on the Westside and on the beach in Santa Monica – where the air was supposedly “clean”- I often felt like I could hack up a lung or two.         I’m all for a free market, but I find images of people in the city walking around with scarves covering their mouths to filter the dirty air repugnant. Do we really need to create and maintain a world that is that filthy to show the rest of the globe how industrious we are? Even China seems to be getting over that, isn’t it?      The population of the Golden State was just over 20 million in 1978.  Then, the air was so lousy that everyone standing over 10 feet away looked like they were softly lit actors behind a flattering gauze filter. The downside: asthma and hacking coughs were more common than gluten intolerance.

SIX THINGS YOU CAN DO WHEN YOUR DESIGNATED DRIVER LEAVES YOU HANGING

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  DESIGNATED DRIVERS OFTEN GIVE IN TO TEMPTATION  SIX OTHER OPTIONS TO PRESERVE YOUR SAFETY WHEN YOUR DD LETS YOU DOWN      A 2013 study showed that many designated drivers drink after they promise not to imbibe, some to the point of being legally drunk.*   Let’s face it – times haven’t changed since then - when the party’s on, it’s also a pretty safe bet that designated drivers who decide to drink instead may partake in other available inebriates such as weed, edibles, pills and other mind-elevators.       Best advice - leave the driving to someone who hasn’t partaken.   Don’t be a cheapskate – it could cost you and others on the road more than money.   You have options: 1)    Call a cab 2)    Call a sober friend or relative for a ride.   He or she may be irritated if you wake him or her. Especially if this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. You can survive their ire. Those that care will help you out. 3)    Put ride share apps on your phone just

Wow, Mom, Wow!

Happy Mother's Day to all of you who embrace that title or fill that role in your families. Most I know who identify as a  "mother," "mom," "madre," or the equivalent have been ON and on the job commencing with the conception of their first child. For adoptive moms, it's an obligation accepted long before any contract is inked. It is daunting to imagine anyone focusing on and working tirelessly at a job for 24/7 even years after her job is theoretically  done. Such as when she launches her well-prepared adult kids into the world...and for all of the years that follow. No matter the kid's ages and their strengths she helps them develop - moms like this prioritize their children's welfare long after many of them are very capable adults.  Happy Mother's Day and thanks  to my 84 year old mom who has been subdividing her love and attention between seven of us beginning over 65 years ago. Happy Mother's Day and thanks

FRESH HORSES FOR DESK JOCKEYS and other living people who spend too much time sitting down

"Get up and move."  We've heard it our entire lives.  Yet acting on that simple directive periodically throughout the day can do more to energize us and to enhance the quality of our lives than any other prescription we receive.  And that includes the "ones that mother gives us," the kinds we get from our doctors, and even the advice-type on diet and lifestyle that spew at us pretty much 24-7 from all kinds of sources. Everyone knows we shouldn't sit so much.  But maybe we could use a little help figuring out how to change things.  For desk jockeys, people who drive for long stretches, and for the rest of us who stare at lighted screens for extended lengths of time, check out this video that I put together with my pal, Dixon Troyer, the VP of operations and head trainer at 3 Elements Lifestyle in SoCal.   It offers up a simple, new prescription to take every 45 minutes to restore that flagging mojo caused by all that sitting down. Anyone can do it and ev

If You’re Under 18, There’s No Uber for You!

If You’re Under 18, There’s No Uber for You! Kids Need to Ride Only with Account Holders Over age 18 When Uber and Lyft came on the scene a few years ago, parents of school age kids in many American cities and suburbs breathed a sigh of relief.   Suddenly, a solution for shuttling their children to and from school and activities was always available and affordable. Parents with custody arrangements could exchange their kids without having to interact with former spouses.    Kids could get to the malls, the movies and their friends’ houses.   And kids with access to a parent’s account could even get to and from parties that they weren’t supposed to attend – without having to ask a parent or an older sibling for a ride. In the last few years, Uber, Lyft and other ride-hailing services have become so ubiquitous (and inexpensive) that references to getting somewhere by using them are now by the commonly understood verbs “ubering” or “lyfting.”   As an occasional driver, I ha

Gag Me on the “Gig Economy.” A note to UberX and Lyft Riders:

Isn’t it great that UberX and Lyft rides cost you less than half what they did just a year ago? Here's a breakdown of the typical UberX/Lyft ride for a little insight on this deal: drivers receive no pay for a three to five mile drive taking an average of 10 to 12 minutes to get to rider’s pickup point.   Add no compensation for a five to ten minute wait for the rider, friends and sometimes, pets, to load into the car. (With Lyft, a nominal wait charge begins upon arrival to the pick up location.)   The mileage charges commence when the car starts moving.   Using a four-mile drive taking about 10 to 12 minutes as an example, the rider pays about a $4.00 fare for this ride.   The driver earns 75%, or   $3.00 for approximately 30 minutes on the clock, minus gas, insurance, depreciation, the cost of bottled water, car washes, interior shampoos, the purchase of extra phone chargers, and more.    Many riders are pretty cool people.  Very pleasant, and often interesting.  This ca

Life's a Bitch. Except when it's Not.

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Last week on Monday at a little after 7 AM, I was in my Honda Insight eastbound on Ventura Blvd. at Tampa waiting for the light to change. Before red turned green, a middle-aged guy taking his two little daughters to school in his brand new Ford Fusion, rear-ended my car. He blamed the rising sun. But he was probably texting, and traveling at about 20 mph. He never hit his brakes. The Fusion catapulted my Insight into a 1980 Mercedes in front of me as a result. The older man driving it hit his head on his wooden steering wheel. Concurrently, inside of my car, whiplash was the word. My seat belt broke and the airbags never opened but the bag warning light came on. Things that were in the front of my car ended up in the back and vice-versa. I have no idea how, but coffee spewed all over the car interior from my tightly sealed metal travel cup. As the guy I hit and I were both rag-dolled pretty well, we were dazed and confused at the time when we stumbled from our rigs. How