Tennis Menace

by Tonia

"The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall." - Mitch Hedberg

My granddaughter started taking tennis lessons this summer. Watching her brought back fond memories of my own tennis attempts in childhood. So I decided – what the hell – I like raising a racket – I should take it up again. Never mind that I’m 61 years old, uncoordinated and out of shape.

So, my first attempt was with Rachel (daughter) who also hasn’t played in years. Her first words to me were to take it easy - she didn’t want me to fall and break a hip because she’d have to take care of me the rest of my life. Grrrrrr ….. I raised brats.

This is what it looked like: both of us chasing balls on our court, on other courts, over the fence, in the parking lot and down the street. And this is what it sounded like:

-- “F**k!”

-- “S**t!”

-- “God d****t!”

Along with:

-- “Where’s the ball?”

-- “Just kidding!”

-- “Was that your Protect-My-Boobs shot?”

-- “Do you do all your own stunts?”

The grandkids went with us but, after a short time, they both hid in the car - they didn’t want their friends to see them with us. I didn't come home with tennis elbow – I came home with tennis body.

My next attempt was with the boyfriend where Love means nothing. Trying to look cute and sexy, I ran up on the ball to smack it and *WHACK!* it bounced off my forehead and took my hat with it. My stupefied look was not …. well …. sexy.

But, never one to give up just because I should, I have continued to play with some girlfriends (where looking stupefied is well accepted). The last time we played I ran to make a shot, knocked over the ball hopper and sent 70 balls into the neighboring court where GOOD players were playing. Yes, it was epic.

So, for some great exercise, lots of laughs and LOTS of personal growth in frustration tolerance, take some girlfriends to play tennis. Then go get a drink – or four.

Driving Others Crazy

by Tonia

"Until you've learned to drive, you've never really learned to swear." - Robert Paul

For the record, just because I’m sober doesn’t mean I’m a good driver. My friends remind me that they exhibit great courage when they ride with me. Recently, as I was driving with a friend down a mountain, I scraped the passenger’s door on the barrier that keeps cars from falling off the side of the road. He started to pale. Then, when we got into town I ran a STOP sign. That imaginary brake on the passenger's side went right through the floor. Geez. Some people just want to play it so safe.

A few months ago the boyfriend was following me in his car since he was unfamiliar with the area. I forgot which side of the road my exit was on and crossed three lanes of traffic in a single lane change. I thought this was a terrific feat …. except …. I. Lost. The. Boyfriend. Oops! Should have tried that with the ex!

Sometimes people do honk at me – but since my bumper sticker says, “Honk if you’re horny,” I’m never really sure if I’m getting hit on or if someone almost got hit. Maybe I need a new bumper sticker. Do any of these work?

-- “Friends don’t let friends ride with me”

-- “Don’t blame me; the dog is learning to drive”

-- ”If you think my driving is bad, you should see me dance”

-- “My bumper has been around ….. around a rock ….. around a tree ….. around a fence post”

-- “Sure, the cassis has a few dents and dings, but so does the car”

I really should give some consideration to safer driving. It’s starting to cost me. This summer I ripped the bottom off of my little Prius – TWICE! And had to pay for it. Guess a Prius isn’t a jeep.

For your next girlfriends’ get-together, try this cocktail. It’s one of Anna’s creations and we’re calling it the Ambulance Chaser.

Ambulance Chaser

2 oz vodka

4 oz t-Up

½ tsp. ginger

OPTIONAL: ¼ tsp chopped jalapeno

Shake and serve over ice