TV or Not TV -- That's the, well, you know

Driving an expensive car. Owning a mansion on the beach. Rubbing elbows with celebs at Christmas in Aspen. Flying first class -- or better yet, in your private plane. These have always been symbols of status. You've made it --- if you count money as the marker for success.

There's another group eager to assume a superior than thou stance: those who snootily say they don't watch TV or, worse yet, they don't even own a TV.

Of course, I immediately respond by raving about the benefits of PBS, hoping to neutralize the situation while not admitting that I do indeed care about Meredith Grey's love life.

Does their tube-less life give them a mental edge? Is it supposed to generate an aha moment in which I realize I could be reading the Bible or volunteering in a homeless shelter?

It's TV watchers you want on your Trivial Pursuit team. It's TV watchers you want at your cocktail party when you warn somebody about double-dipping or finish a sentence with ya-da-ya-da-ya-da. They get it!

Sometimes TV is the perfect remedy. Having been active all day, watching TV gives me a chance to be passive. To just sit for a bit and chill.

I hardly see it as the end of civilization -- unless you're watching "Dancing With the Stars".

Use Your "Inside Voices" Please

Parents often discipline their children, forgetting they aren't on the playground, for yelling or talking loudly in a shop or restaurant. Whoever came up with the concept of "inside voices" should be commended, as should the parents who abide by it.

But who monitors adults? In the time it took me to scarf down a Cobb salad I learned way more about the love life of the stranger sitting two tables over than I really needed to. This guy was broadcasting his embarrassing intimacies with such volume I'm sure they heard him in the kitchen. A voice that loud takes all the fun out of eavesdropping.

These are the same people who sit behind you at the movies and, since whispering is foreign to them, give away the plot. They cause the librarian to utter the rarely heard "ssshhhh" and the clergy to do a holy eye roll during a service.

You know how it's a requirement to have smoke detectors just about everywhere. I suggest someone invent a voice detector. The alarm would go off when an "inside voice" turned into an "outside voice".

Move Over James Bond

In the November 9th issue of Newsweek, columnist Ellis Cose wrote about "the idiocy of axing older employees". According to his essay, 6.8% of workers 55+ are unemployed and it takes us roughly 33 weeks to find a new position.

Perhaps we should be looking into new professions where we could shine. My suggestion? Spying. Face it -- as we get older we become more and more invisible anyway so why not make a bit of cash out of being ignored. Who would ever suspect a geezer of espionage?

We're reliable, hardworking and we've been to enough cocktail parties and rubber chicken dinners to know when to blend in and keep our mouth shut. Cover blown? Threatened with torture? Ha! Torture was sharing a room with Dolores from accounting at that weekend retreat.

Plus we make natural masters of disguise. Hair -- grayer week by week. Wrinkles -- deeper week by week. Jowls -- saggier week by week (well, maybe that's just me).

Age -- it's the perfect cover.

Crisper Than What?

Can you answer a question for me? Why is that little drawer at the bottom of the fridge called a crisper? Since I have retrieved many a flaccid vegetable from there, I feel it's truly a misnomer.

It's supposed to keep veggies fresh, but how does that work? It's not sealed, not locked. It's just a drawer -- not unlike the one I keep my socks in, only cooler.

My theory is that some Madison Avenue copywriter was assigned the Frigidaire account and decided "vegetable drawer" simply lacked pizazz. Would you toss fresh produce into a mere drawer? Underwear goes into a drawer. Vegetables go into a crisper. Now that's inspiration!

I think it's a matter of semantics with me. I can't help asking "crisper than what". With that name I fully expect veggies that reside in the crisper be fresher when I take them out than when I put them in -- zapped with electronic anti-stale rays or some other high tech wizardry.

Oh, I know it doesn't work that way, so in lieu of that how about a fridge equipped with a flashing light or robo message that warns me just before the mushrooms, long forgotten in that frigid lower drawer, turn to brown liquid.