Holiday Beading Success, Employee Abuse, Coke Zero envy, the greedy Astrologer, Tai Chi Master Surprise, Ms. Sanchez

It is hard to imagine a sense of satisfaction greater than that felt when the answer to "Where did you get that, I love it," is truthfully, "I made it." But indeed ladies and gentlemen, I anticipate many such exchanges to be on the horizon for yours truly, as today was a triumphant beading day for me. Unfortunately this cannot be said of the rest of the crowd in attendance at this morning's holiday beading class, a.k.a. The Bead Goes On or Don't Worry Bead Happy as it is referred to in the Ranch program schedule. The class did not start out on an energetically positive track as one of the guests, let us call her Martha, arrived a full 10 minutes late and swept into the Pavilion in quite an attention seeking huff. Martha, it is worthy to note, is in her mid-70's, and unlike the majority of Ranch guests, neither dyes her gray hair nor differentiates between her and her husbands sweatpants. Martha does however have a most vindictive nature, as you will soon see. Donna, the beading instructor, who incidentally was wearing a silver leather belt she had adorned with Swarovski crystals to a truly bedazzling effect, paused her in depth explanation of the difference between the metallic and ceramics beads to ask Martha if she was all right.

"Well, I guess you could say all right if you ignore the fact that I just spent the last hour in medical."

Without further prompting, Martha began a detailed and bitter recounting of the morning's events. While she was leaving the Clubhouse and walking behind an employee of the Ranch, a new guest appeared on the horizon and called out a greeting to the employee. The employee slowed down and responded to the greeting with an effusive and wide gesturing of her arms in a V-shaped air hello. As her hand flew with apparent jet propulsion up into the air, she caught the side of Martha's weathered face. The force of this contact was apparently sufficient to cause Martha to seek out medical treatment, and although there were no signs of injury on Martha’s face visible to the naked eye, she assured us all that her jaw was now clicking.

Donna quickly told Martha that she was sure the employee must feel terrible about the incident, to which Martha replied, “Well, you’d think so.” Donna tried again with a different approach; “I bet her hand must be hurting something awful.” This produced a visible smile across Martha’s face for apparently her clicking jaw injury had no effect on her jaw’s ability to support an effusive ear-to-ear grin. “I certainly think so,” was Martha’s official response. Unsatisfied with this, I leaned in toward Martha and asked playfully, “Do you mean “think so” or “hope so”?”

Martha winked at me with great pleasure and said in a fiery tone unbefitting her benign, baggy sweatpanted appearance, “Yup, you got it.” A few of the fully make-upped forehead sweatband sporting guests (think Olivia Newton John but 70+ and in tranny makeup with reading glasses) were seen to take a few discreet steps away from Martha. Donna continued with her explanation and I quietly moved my things to a table on the far side of the Pavilion.


I returned to fight my way through what can only be accurately described as a bead frenzy. Age spot covered hands were diving madly in and out of the many containers of beads spread out according to color on the tables. Beads were flying as the ladies’ acrylic nails clawed in the turquoise and red holiday beads. I avoided the frenzy almost completely by sticking to the pearl and earth tone beads, which were surprisingly unattractive to the Olivia impersonators. “Don’t cha wanna a-yedd a liddle culla fah oomph doll?” one Jackie from Cincinnati asked. I decided to sit next to Jackie for in spite of her black sweatband, I liked that she cared about the quality of my output. While Jackie struggled to find the holes in her ruby and turquoise beads through which to thread the wire, I quietly began stringing my bracelet together. Upon my asking Jackie from Cincinnati what part of New York she was from originally, Jackie dropped her bracelet in apparent shock that she still had a discernable accent. I helped Jackie from Cincinnati collect her beads as she explained how she was actually born and raised in Brooklyn but had lived in her adopted home city for the past 54 years.

When I had crimped my last bead, I tried on my bracelet and Jackie declared it to be “ah-eb-sa-loot-ly gohgess.” If you look at the photo attached, you’ll see it is hard to disagree.

After the toil of beading, I decided to sit by the flagstone pool near the Double U Café and read in the sunshine while sipping on one of the Coke Zeros I had smuggled into the Ranch on Day 1. My carcinogenic beverage acted like an open bottle of male pheromones and soon I had women of all ages and sizes approaching me to demand I tell them where I got the beverage and whether I had more. I had mixed emotions about this, for on the one hand I had empathy for these diet soda-deprived women, but on the other hand I felt contempt for these same women who clearly did not love their delectable slimming fizzy drink enough to have planned ahead and smuggled some in for themselves. I explained that they could get their very own by hiring a car to take them to the Circle K and eventually collecting my things and moved on; I knew I was no longer welcome as they sipped jealously on their unsweetened boysenberry iced tea.

I entered the Catalan Room excited for the lecture on Astrology. Katherine, the chief Astrologist at the Ranch was there and greeted me warmly, even offering me a piece of Dove dark chocolate, which I accepted gratefully. Katherine looks exactly like what I would imagine Terri Garr’s older, food obsessed sister would look like. She also speaks in a similar ditsy yet charming manner, employing multiple run on sentences that are colorful if often hard to follow. We were joined by Mona, a Ranch vet who appeared to be separated at birth from the new football coach on Glee, and Kelsey an adorable 20 year old from Atlanta visiting with her Mom.

Rather than teach us the basics of Astrology and how it is used to guide ones life toward enlightenment, Katherine spent much of the first 30 minutes showing us screen shots on the projector of various financial astrologers and talking about the incredible price increases in gold and silver. She then projected the chart of the United States of America and explained how it will be a full 12 months until we begin to emerge from the current financial turmoil due to the squaring of Uranus with various other planets apparently responsible for the movement of money.

At Mona’s behest she also pulled up the birth chart of Barack Obama, and paused in silence once it was on the large screen before us. “Well, you can certainly see how hard he’s working and what a tough time he’s having.” In truth I could not, I could see nothing but a series of numbers and squiggles. Fortunately, Mona had to excuse herself to prepare for some intense athletic feat and I left to join the lecture on Spiritual Anchoring in Turbulent Times next door.

The class was full and so I sat on the carpeted floor at the very back of the room. I noticed Hispanic Tom Selleck and his much older sugar momma sitting in the chairs in front of me listening intently to the speaker’s pointers on the importance of anchoring oneself with spirituality before allowing a situation to turn into a problem. I am still unclear on the distinction between a situation and a problem, although I am clear that a problem is much worse karma and dharma wise. I am also unclear on what dharma really is, but I digress. The fourth step in anchoring is to breathe. According to the speaker we forget to breathe and this is to our detriment. Having never personally forgotten to breathe, I can nonetheless imagine how doing so might prove problematic if not fatal. At this point Mr. Selleck raised his hand and asked the speaker if he might lead the class through a brief breathing demonstration that would underscore the power of breathing as well as its simplicity. Having always found breathing quite simple myself, I was curious as to how to make it even easier. The speaker asked how long Mr. Selleck thought such a demonstration might take, an experienced speaker move, and he said no more than time it takes to take 4 or 5 breaths. Permission was granted and we were handed over to Mr. Selleck.

As it turns out Mr. Selleck is no ordinary boy toy. He informed us that he is the 1998-1999 World Tai Chi Master and that breathing technique has been the key to his success. He spoke slowly in thickly Mexican-accented English.

“Feerst ju tekke a deep clensen bref, en led id ow bery bery slow. Nex’ ju pud jour ton on dee roof a jour mao, en exhale bery bery slow.” We all did as instructed. “Pee-chure in-chaling piss and ex-chaling war, pee-chure in-chaling love and ex-chaling chate, pee-ture in-chaling li’ an ex-chaling death.” After 5 such rounds he gave us a brief explanation of the physiological changes we had just undergone as a result of the “deep clensen bref’ and the room exploded into spontaneous applause. Mr. Selleck was very pleased and his blinding smile shone proudly.

Later at the spa, I was awaiting my 100-minute Ashiatsu treatment when Mr. Selleck’s sugar momma walked in. The door from the spa waiting room to the massage rooms opened and a woman with a clipboard called out for "Mrs. Sanchez, Mrs. Jane Sanchez," and Mr. Selleck’s sugar momma stood up, “Yes, that’s me.” And so, it became clear that Mr. Selleck was far more than the sum of his oversized pearly whites, he was indeed a true master. Kudos senor, kudos.

Return to the Ranch, Loyalty Program, Beading Genius, Mind the Sauce

oh my dear reader, it is with great joy that i share with you the news of my triumphant return to canyon ranch. my how i have missed the myriad of registered massage therapists and the long term staff like ed, the cycling guide, who never laughs at a guest no matter how pathetic the neon pink cycling shorts she sports may be. kath, the friendly ranch driver picked me up from the airport and whisked me to the ranch in no time. i mentioned my need after check-in to arrange for transportation to the circle k minimart to purchase my week's supply of coke zero and kath offered to take me gratis. i love kath and her oddly oversized feet.

kevin checked me in and after warmly welcoming me back to the ranch, informed me that i had been upgraded to a cassita (private 1 bedroom villa). lovely. of course i checked the location of the upgraded room and was slightly concerned at the lack of close proximity to both the clubhouse where fiber rich meals are taken as well as the spa, but no cassitas closer by were available and so i assured kevin that i would make do. kevin was very gracious and after offering me a size small ranch t-shirt, bless him, which i declined in favor of a size medium, informed me that not only was i upgraded but that on account of my milestone visit (i believe it is 5 or more visits within 2 years) i was being given a gift of my choosing from the ranch management. fortunately there were plenty of other guests nearby including a gentleman with a slightly greasy ponytail to overhear the conversation. "how thoughtful," i replied at hearing the news. kevin then produced a somewhat lackluster looking leaflet from which i was to select my gift. there were but 3 meager offerings on the cheap, glossy paper stock he handed to me; a notebook with a mildly offensive southwestern motif, a pair of mini collapsable binoculars (tres skymall), and a ranch logo water bottle holder with a stainless steel water bottle. the choice was clear and i requested the water bottle and holder which i imagined would serve as a proxy for my elevated status at the ranch with those in-the-know. sort of the way that the harvard university sweatshirt with the simple "harvard" inscription serves as a status symbol because only a student on a varsity team can acquire such a sweatshirt and only harvard varsity athletes are aware of this fact thereby entreating wearers of the coveted sweatshirt with the knowing nods of his elite comrades. the thought of this freemason-like clubiness made me smile right up until the point when kevin felt it important to mention that the bottle was not included with the bottle holder. seriously? i thought to myself. just the holder, that is embarassing. i kept a smile pinned to my face as i slowly stepped away from registration and made my way to the dining hall in the clubhouse for a bite of lunch.

after a quick word of caution to the newbie couple seated next to me who were throughly enjoying the vanilla frozen yogurt with "hot fudge sauce" about the fact that the main ingredient in the "hot fudge" was in fact prunes and that it was best practice for those sharing a room to have a rule that consumption by one roommate of the sauce required disclosure of said consumption to the other roommate so that s/he could arm themselves appropriately, i was off to program advising in order to tweak my exercise and spa treatment schedule.

i signed up for the very best hikes and bike rides, careful to mark my correct height and grateful no request for my correct weight was made on the sign up sheet. good old ed was setting up bikes for the next day's ride and we chatted as his nose ran like a disturbing faucet in the unseasonably cold weather. ed was remarkably unphased by the droplets falling from his nose onto the ground and i decided it might be quite frozen solid thereby rendering ed unable to feel the profusion of sinovial fluid emanating from his person. thankfully i had a beading class to attend before my 100 minute hot stone massage and made my way to the craft center tucked away behind the sanctuary.

i entered the craft center at 5 minutes past the appointed start time and the room was atwitter with lanky blonde 60-something plastic surgery afficionados all clad in lounge wear in various shades of pale blue. it was like the golden girls had been cloned and put through a gentrification machine and subsequently spat out as the ghosts of heidi montag's future. the women paused for a split second to greet me and then returned to their busy work of selecting beads for their projects. each woman had a tray in her hands onto which she was carefully placing beads in the grooved semi circular indentations from which she would later string her masterpiece. rather than making an eyeglass holder/necklace to dangle elegantly around my neck like the other women, i decided to make a book mark, which for some reason i cannot fathom was being referred to by the chief craft woman, suzie and her golden girls, as a "book thong". apparently i am the only living being at the ranch who finds this both strange and immensely amusing as i found myself giggling and could not help but picture books wearing victoria secret undergarments each time someone said "book thong". i found a table with an open workstation and after gathering my turquoise southwestern beads and peace sign charms, sat down to work. suzie, who was clearly raised on long island and wore a farcical amount of bronzer she had not quite managed to blend in despite her bifocal contact lenses, gave me careful instructions on how to use the bead spinner. a bead spinner is a wooden bowl with a spindle sticking straight up from its center in which one places beads and then spins the bowl while simultaneously skimming the top of the beads with a very long and slightly hooked threaded needle. this causes the beads to jump onto the needle in order for one to easily thread them into a magnificent handcrafted creation. the charming woman with the joan rivers eyes next to me seemed to be struggling to string her beads and i was almost embarrassed at how quickly i was completing the task. she asked me whether i was a "serious beader", to which i responded, "oh, i bead here and there" in an effort to assuage her feelings of inadequacy. suzie was asked how the spinner worked and she said it was the "centrifugal force" of the spinner that causes the beads to "jump onto the needle". alhough i am no physicist, i am fairly certain that while the centrifugal force is what pushes the beads to the outside of the spinner, it does not in fact cause the beads to magically alight the needle. of course a magic beading force is far more interesting to discuss across the pool during aqua fitness, so i held my tongue. soon suzie began nervously rushing the golden girls and encouraging them to hurry up as the room needed to be free and clean in another 45 minutes for martha's ceramics class. martha is from germany you see and enjoys promptness and tidiness according to suzie. suzie is from long island as i mentioned and enjoys abundant make up and talking. i finished threading, crimped my final bead and tried to leave quietly but suzie grabbed me before i could make my escape. after grasping at her breast in mock cardiac arrest at the speed of my completion (a joke in rather poor taste i think given the audience in the room) suzie insisted i had to do "show and tell" for everyone. she clutched my "book thong" with her acrylic french manicured nails and held it up for all to admire. a mixture of ooohs and aaaahs from the crowd was followed by several discreet head shakes of dismissal, "she may be quick," their gestures said, "but she's no artist."

and so i took my "book thong" and walked over to the spa for my massage knowing that even after my 100 minutes were over the golden girls would still have unfinished works of art.