By Jill Greenwood
Anyone who knows me, knows that I love music. With a passion. Like lots and lots and lots. That being said, I kinda suck at the lyrics. For the longest time, I thought that the final line of David Bowie’s “Changes” was “But I can’t change time;” turns out I was wrong . . . and really, I like my lyrics better than Bowie’s. Far be it from me to think that I’m a better lyricist than the Thin White Duke, but what the hell does tracing time even mean? Anyone? Thought so.
So what does this have to do with change? Not much other than every time someone says anything about change, I start to hum the song. We generally toss around our topics on a Facebook group that we started a while ago. Most times they are the result of the season, but this time it seemed that many of us were in a state of change. Me? Nothing major because I avoid change at all cost. Case in point: Friday nights. We’ve been having pizza every Friday night since we moved to the ‘Burg. And not just pizza. Frozen pizza. From a local grocery store. If we don’t have it, something is off for that week. Slightly obsessive-compulsive, but there you have it . . . frozen pizza, every Friday night from Weis.
Change – not something I like. I think I would even go so far as to say that I shy away from from it. But that all changed on January 28 this year because Dave and I decided to adopt a puppy. For some reason, it seemed like a good idea. After six weeks of having the lovely Lucy in our lives, I’d have to say that it was still a good idea, but fuck . . . I’m too old for a puppy. It’s like having another baby after raising two grown children. Am I equating having a puppy is exactly like having a baby? God, lord, no! I laugh when I hear couples say, “Well, first we’re going to start with a puppy because that will give us a good idea what raising a child will be like.” Ummm, no it won’t, dipshits. It will give you a good idea what raising a puppy will be be like. Because trust me, when your own spawn eats its shit, you might stop him or her faster than your puppy. At least for your child’s sake, I’d hope you do.
Back to the decision to adopt a puppy. The one change that I knew – knew – we had to make was training. With Livie, our first dog, we didn’t really do any training because I was lazy (but you figured that, right). She was sweet, good tempered. But ring a doorbell, and she would bark. My mom would get pissed because she couldn’t sit with a biscuit on her nose like my childhood dog. Granted, that was something to see, but then again, Livie never ate a) a 10-pound rump roast; b) $40 worth of fundraiser chocolate, or c) pounds of crayons either; and, yes, Schatzie, the childhood Lab, did that and more. I’m firmly convinced it was because of the endless biscuits on her nose. Puppy 2.0 was going to be trained. That change was a huge one for me because it means constant reinforcement of good habits and redirection for the bad habits. Trust me when I say that it would be a whole lot simpler to let Lucy jump up to say her hellos when you walk in the door rather than gently push her down and say, “Off.” Right now, she’s adorable and cute when she does it. But come three years down the road, I’m pretty sure that she’ll just be an annoyance with it.
There’s other change brewing in Chez Greenwood. My girls are graduating from college in a few months, and I have no idea what comes next for them. I’ve branched out and started reading good and proper grown-up novels (not giving up on YA though). We are finally joining the 20th century and will luxuriate in central air this summer. See? Going to Crazy Town with all this change. Maybe I won’t have frozen pizza tonight . . . who the hell am I kidding . . . that would be beyond crazy.
Spill it, people! If change scares you as much as it does me, what change do you think would be totally worth it? Pretend money and time are out of the equation . . . what change would you make right now if you could? I’ll mull them over with my third slice of Weis Magic Crust Frozen Pizza.