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October 14, 2024
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Linking Northern and Central NJ, Bronx, Manhattan, Westchester and CT

I love getting feedback about my columns. If you like them, if you don’t like them, it’s all good. I am a middle child and I can take anything you throw at me. People who usually don’t even say hello to me feel they can put their two cents in and I totally enjoy hearing their comments (and their actual voices; who knew they could talk?). Suggestions are always welcome, unless, of course, they aren’t.

The other day, a cantankerous, elderly gentleman was telling me that he does not read my column, but that I should start writing about the news. Hmm, let me get this straight, you don’t read what I write about, but you have decided that it must be so bad that I should write about the news? Hey mister, have you been reading about the news lately? It is bad. It is really bad. And scary. And depressing. Did I mention scary? Is that really what you want me to write about? There are shows on television that are supposed to be “based on reality” that are less frightening then what is actually happening in reality. But this man would rather I write about that then the stupidity that I enjoy writing about. So, elderly gentleman who probably will not be reading this column either, here is some news that you can sink your teeth into:

A survey was done on 600 middle-aged women and they found that women who were more anxious had a greater risk of developing Alzheimer’s disease. How is that for news? So, if I wasn’t anxious enough before, I am even more anxious now, but it’s okay because soon I won’t even remember that I am anxious! Recently, there was a good piece of news on television. A couple that first met when they were 3 years old—she was a flower girl and he was a ring bearer—lost contact for a few years, began dating in high school, and recently got married to each other. Cute story, don’t you think? There is some hard-hitting journalism right there.

Another interesting tidbit, a few years ago my family took a tour of the Coca Cola factory in Atlanta. The tour is pretty pricey and I was unhappy (surprise, surprise) that our particular tour was so crowded that it was hard to enjoy all the factory/museum had to offer. Upon calling and speaking to the “person in charge,” who could not have been nicer and refunded my credit card charge, he informed me that the sweetener in my beloved Tab has been proven NOT to cause cancer in laboratory animals. Great news! I am not going to die from saccharin poisoning, but even if I did, I wouldn’t know because I am suffering from that other disease because I am an anxious middle-aged woman. There I go, tying it all together. How could that man not read my column?!?!?!

But this is the best piece of news I can share with you. Son #1 is in Israel. Before he left, I noticed that his sneakers looked a little worn out. He insisted he didn’t need new sneakers because, being his father’s son and not a big fan of spending money, they were just fine. I told him it would be all right for him to buy new sneakers, but what do I know, I am only his mother.

Guess what, here is a newsflash, “Mom, you were right, I need new sneakers.” How is that for news? So since his father, God willing, will be visiting him in the holy land, off I went to buy him new sneakers. How will I be doing this when he is in Israel? Face time. Standing in the sneaker department of Nordstrom (since I had a gift card, I wouldn’t actually be buying him shoes from Nordstrom’s without the gift card) I face-timed my child and showed him all of his options. Now one of the problems with face time, and this is really and truly newsworthy, is that when you see yourself on the screen, you have four chins, unless I actually do have four chins now and that is a whole other news segment. So I am trying to keep my head up so my son doesn’t realize how much weight I have put on since he left and show him all of the available sneaker options. We selected a pair and I told the lovely salesman that I will probably be back in a week and a half because, well, they won’t fit, they won’t be the right color, what was I thinking, blah blah blah. But the piece of the story that I kind of glossed over, which makes this the most newsworthy of all, is that my son admitted I WAS RIGHT!!!!!!! Ahh, if only all the news could be so rewarding….

Banji Ganchrow is a self-proclaimed writer who enjoys getting attention because no one in her house gives her any, unless, of course, they need something.

By Banji Latkin Ganchrow

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