"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"

The movie they had to see. Everyone did. And so a lesson was born. In much the same way as today's blockbusters, that movie was billed as something incredibly special, too. As with today's  "Star Wars'  sequel, the movie hype, in 1990, was above and beyond what any child could bear. But this time, “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” would have to wait. 

 

It was the beginning of 'hype', that word that labeled the excitement of an upcoming movie, concert or book release which stirred a person beyond human endurance. The entertainment industry knew what to do to generate the buzz that would create the buying frenzy, at the box-office. When the Beatles came to town, in New York City, on the Ed Sullivan Show, in the sixties, there was a raw excitement that does not compare to what happens today. I was a teen, then. Today, however, we have Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, constant reminders of the immediacy of absolutely everything and the folly of memories. 

Back in the 90's, television, radio and word of mouth dispensed everything we needed to know when someone or something special was about to arrive soon. There was no smartphone. The media storm, then, was not what it is today: unrelenting, unforgiving and costly. But our boys still had to wait. ...The Ninja movie would be seen, certainly, but in a way that reflected our family's values and financial futures. There were other considerations, too. Giving in to temptation every time it manifests itself in the form of a new entertainment phenomenon would never build financial security. It was determined that the cost of viewing the movie once, for our three sons, plus one parent, in attendance, would more than pay for the privilege of owning a copy of it, forever. Our sons would wait till the movie's release on VHS format for home viewing. They could then watch it as often as desired. The conspiracy of 'opening night' at the movies did not influence our values, life plan or buying decisions. 

And so it happened. The movie came out. Its glorious production, once viewed, was simply another enjoyable movie that you forgot as soon as it was over. Our sons watched it at least 6 times within a 24 hour period. After a brief period of 'abstinence,' they watched it again and again, several days later. This two-dimensional movie experience had never happened before. Our youngest, at 7, had always been entranced by any movie's special effects', production, action, understandably. He was in nirvana. 'Paul' is now a movie producer/director/script-writer /post-production-talent /musician/special-effects- genius. 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was not the blockbuster hit the producers had hoped for. And yet, the hard-earned, after tax, money we might have spent on it would have been wasted, gone forever, for a movie that did not pull at the heart strings. At least we owned a copy of history. Times were tougher, back then, for us. Our budget had its limits. The movie was never watched again. The thrill was gone. Movies are generally, short-lived two-dimensional experiences made worse by the continuous supply of productions, sometimes poorly made, directed or acted, but eagerly anticipated by the younger members of the viewing audience. ... Traveling is money better spent as the experience is a three-dimensional 'novel' event that is felt, long term. We become one with the multi-sensory experience. Watching a movie is not always what we hope for. There are no returns. (Going to the movies is a cheap date night, however, compared to other forms of entertainment.)

For their patience, in waiting, and wisdom, in knowing, our sons began to fully comprehend the scope of a movie's media hype, weeks ahead of its release. There would be other things they wanted in life, things they were not aware of now and could not be aware of till they were much older. Being aware of entertainment's marketing ploy and intentions taught our sons valuable lessons about their own financial futures. A few years later, dropping them off at our local theater to see "Judge Dredd" starring Sylvester Stallone had been the day's plan. Thinking our oldest son, at age 14, was old enough to be the 'adult' stand-in for his younger brothers, 13 and 11, I attempted to leave. Hearing a thunderous applause on the windows of the theater, I turned to see to three desperate little boys seeking to end their predicament. I would not be leaving anytime soon, I soon realized. ... I had been summoned, as the critical 4th element, for their admission into the theater. Alas, two hours of my afternoon was now a forced 'time-out'. As the trio sat there, revelling in the action and special effects of their action hero, Sylvester Stallone, I sat there knowing something special was happening. Their excitement was palpable. I had to do what I had to do that day, many years ago. They appreciated mom's 2-hour theater sacrifice for "Judge Dredd".  Another lesson learned. Be generous of heart, whenever possible.

It has been 25 years since “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle's” premiered. “The Planet of the Apes”, “Jurassic Park”, “James Bond” and “Star Wars”, other ongoing epic franchises, have lured us to the big screen, on their releases, each and every time. Now much older and much wiser, our sons make their movie selections with an awareness and clarity not present when they were much younger. Today's hot blockbuster, now, is the next installment in the Star Wars franchise. We are definitely going.

Every so often, it 'pays' to give our children valuable lessons in the operation and code of the entertainment industry's marketing machine. The motion picture industry never quits. And why should it? It's its duty to entertains us while thinking up countless ways for the audience to 'buy' into the after-market money-making phenomenon, too, till the next blockbuster hit. The day will come, however, when our working lives stop and if we have not been financially prudent, along the way, we may find ourselves watching endless reruns on television. We can't have that.

Bone Broth's Allure

The world as I see it. ... Well-positioned companies, individuals. ... determining our fate. But our health is both our fate and primary responsibility. Bone broth, anyone? A new fad or a twist on a 'vintage' name has entered the food chain emporium. Bone broth is its name, a healthy alternative to other forms of health strategies we have come to know and love. 

In my childhood, bone broth was simply homemade broth, nothing special, nothing grand, made by mom. Today it is touted as the elixir of life, sometimes requiring up to 24-48 hours of cooking time, using a slow cooker, to gently simmer. Really? It doesn't take days to cook. Momsey should know. She makes bone broth often. And yes, bone broth is a magical potion but making it is no mystery. It requires time and effort.

We should consume this 'special' broth daily for its incredible health benefits. ... It is still called soup whatever the disguise! (“A rose by any other name is still a rose”.) ... Homemade soup is soup made at home, whether it is chicken soup, clear broth, beef barley soup or today's bone broth. Once upon a time, soup bones were no big deal. ... No one gave them a second thought. ... They were the least thought of ingredients derived from meat, given away or sold very cheaply in the meat dept. of the grocery store. (Raw beef bones were given to our retrievers to chew on, with appropriate supervision. The thick walled bones were the 'prime real estate', choice cuts of all the bones and our dogs loved them. These chewables helped remove plaque from their teeth and keep gums healthy). 

No one back then talked about bones the way they are talked about today.  Once upon a time, moms would turn tough cuts of meat and soup bones into delicious homemade soup that would last all week. (Grocery shopping, then, was not the high-wire act it is today.) ... Soup was the main act of any meal, never a supporting cast member on the dinner menu. ...  It was not an appetizer. Soup was supper, not the prelude to supper. Funny how things change. Assign a new name to something that has been around for decades and suddenly, under this new 'given' name, a pedigree is established, a new star is born. This new product is now elevated to a previous unheard of health status and can now be placed in an untapped category for the taste buds of the  gullible buying public. A new potent food is born. Naturally, up goes the price, as high as the market will bear. We are that trusting, 'no questions asked' market, with a wallet attached.

Momsey would love to simply open up a can of soup: mushroom, chicken, pea or tomato, add water, then heat, without wondering if it is wise to do so. The advent of super additives, preservatives and a host of other flavour enhancers make guinea pigs of us all. We must scour labels to discover the dietary mysteries lurking inside the tin or package. Oh My! We are becoming novice food inspectors. Since the 70's, processed foods have become a mainstay in our lives. Commercially made soups are laden with salt, sugars, corn starchy things and other words I cannot pronounce. Why cook, if, once in a while, we can cheat and have it made for us. But then we wonder. Is it healthy, albeit, quick to eat? Sometimes our bodies become inflamed by a highly processed diet of over-cooked, salty, sweet, refined foods - if we do not cook. Bone broth or homemade soup can help in the healing of our bodies while redirecting our attention to the place, in the home, where health magic begins: the kitchen. ...

Time is the critical factor when slow cooking tough cuts of beef, learning a new skill or trade, or painting a room. It is no different when cooking that centuries-old favourite called soup. There is no substitution for real food made by time honoured traditions. A modern name given a 'heritage' product, brings about renewed interest, perhaps, but usually with a 'whatever the market will bear' price attached. So only a few stand to benefit. Let's stop the madness and realize, like Dorothy did, in “The Wizard of Oz”, that we possess the power, we seem to give to others, for our own health and wellbeing. We can do it. It requires effort, not talent. The internet is alive with ideas, recipes and everything in between for us to be healthy, wealthy and wise.

=================================== ================================

Here is The Momsey's so-called 'bone broth' recipe known by a simpler, more recognizable name called homemade chicken soup, among the many soups, I adore. My soups are always works-in-progress. When I hear or read of something new, about an herb or spice, I put it in my soups. If the taste is odd, I eliminate or reduce the amount I use in my bone broths. Turmeric is #1 in my hit parade of spices. I sneak it in everything. It is commonly referred to as a super food, great for keeping plaque at bay in the brain. (The more turmeric added, the deeper the colour. For rice, I add small amount to make rice yellow, not orange. Yum, yum anyway it is done.)

TheMomsey's Chicken Soup:

In stock pot, brown chicken, all bones and marrow, too, on low-medium heat with onions, quartered with clove of garlic, cut in half. Salt and pepper. (I add diced celery and carrots later.) Bay leaves, dry rosemary leaves, a new addition, and dill stalk can be added here along with turmeric sprinkled on chicken. If I have parsnips, I add them too cut into chunks. (They provide a  delicious mellow chicken soupy flavour to the broth.) Add cold water to cover. Simmer on low heat for a couple hours. Using uncooked meat/bones creates stronger flavour in bone broth, I believe. (More fat and flavour in legs, necks and wings, too.) Strain contents from stock. (I line strainer with cheesecloth to remove all solid food particles from soup, leaving clear broth.) Then I begin the process of adding vegetables back into my homemade 'clear' soup. (Leave stock 'chunks' in lined strainer, in bowl, to drain further in a bowl.) Twist the cheesecloth containing solid material to squeeze out remaining liquid. Add liquid to pot. Remove chunks of meat from strainer and add to soup. Taste. Add salt,  teaspoon of apple cider vinegar? then another layer of onions, diced this time, then carrots, celery and bay leaves. Stir. (Cook rice or fine egg noodles separately. Under cook a bit as these add-ins will cook further when added into bowl of hot soup. Add a scoop of rice or noodles into bowl then add hot soup.) Add more dill in soup, if desired, and let contents simmer for 1 hour or so on lowest heat. ... Cool. Freeze some. Refrigerate remainder. ... Scientists have referred to chicken soup as having a profound medicinal effect on health. It is a 'filling, yummy medicine', too, I might add, the cheapest prescription, not found, in the medicine cabinet..

Coming soon: Genetically Modified Us?

The Brutality of It All!!

Abandoned, neglected, torn up, barely alive. These words painted sickening pictures worse than I could ever have imagined. So, I clicked. I had to see. Click after horrifying click led me to the visual proof of the  horrifying brutality inflicted upon pets, large or small, young or old. The internet was alive with the visceral proof of the cruelty of innocent creatures who were eventually led to their happy endings.

It was my first introduction to the 'postings' of animals in dire distress, well over a year ago. There was the video clip of a very old dog hoping for love, care and a home before he died. His intentions were clear to those who found him, barely alive, 'living' in his own waste, on the city streets. He was old, suffering from multiple scars, oozing pus, with eyes almost shut. He wanted love and a home before he died. For a few days he had what he had wished for. ...They laid him to rest in a special spot where this symbol of unconditional love would be close by. As I watched more of these quick snapshots of dogs, in hell, the tears rolled down. 

 

Tiggy, my loathe-to-be-held cat, approached me, while balancing herself on the window sill, next to my work station, extended her front paw to console me. She sensed something was amiss. But she understood. She had been one of them, long, long ago. I told her it was impossible to save them all, I know, but why did it have to happen, in the first place? Why, indeed.

As long as there are inequities in life, there will innocents who pay the price with their life, I knew. ... The video clips continued. There was the damaged pet carrier, on the side of the highway, that grabbed the attention of two bikers. ... The emaciated little black dog emerged from its coffin-like box, anxious to breathe, see sunlight and perhaps find food. The contents of its portable decomposing home, strewn about inside with the animal's own waste, was slowly becoming its tomb. No one had bothered to check this mysterious box until these two wonderful men stopped to look. No one had bothered to bother!! But here they were, these caring adult male curiosity seekers, suddenly taking an interest in something they had seen by the side of the road. ...

The little dog was free, at last, happy to be released from its solitary prison to find two someones who cared. There was no food, no water. This little dog's tiny emaciated frame, with protruding ribs, was a painful reminder of its history of abuse. He licked the hands of his rescuers, ever so grateful for the morsels of food  and water they gave him. They took the adult 'pup' home. A bath was given when it was discovered why the little guy had been stumbling, in such great pain, unable to walk, as dogs generally do. Its claws had grown unchecked and were now deeply embedded within its painful, swollen paws, another act of torture complete. (A jagged, misshapen opening, on the top of the 'pet carrier', told a horrific tale of its attempts to escape its coffin.) ... Off to the vet he went, his well being and safety now assured by these two caring men. ... The video continued, showing a remarkable recovery, several months later. He was now a happy little 'boy' with a new family. ... Then there was the abuse of a 'crippled' white dog found living in a garbage dump - his home. He'd managed to crawl there, perhaps, to escape the inhumanity of its life. His patchy skin devoid of fur in places, resplendent of lacerations, lesions, open sores with pus and blood oozing all about, was more than I could bear. He was gently escorted out of this horrible place of death, by those who found him, and months later, transformed into another beauty. I shed more happy tears. ...

With his foot aimed high towards his target the adult motioned the young child to move more quickly as the boy stepped out of the car. Unbeknownst to them, however, the breeder was watching this 'couple', fixated on the troubling event unfolding before her through the closed laced curtains on the front door window. She'd been standing there, anxiously awaiting this gentleman's arrival, she told us. He had phoned, desperate to buy a puppy. Selling the last of her litter was paramount, now, before she moved. But not today, she realized, in short order, after witnessing the sidewalk maltreatment of an innocent.  

 

As the man approached the house, the breeder opened the door, denying his request for a puppy, explaining why. ... If treating his own child with such contempt, in public, with unknown witnesses watching, was O.K., then what hope did a non-verbal, innocent, 'demanding' little perfect newborn puppy have behind closed doors, she thought? None at all! None at all!

The Momsey was never a 'cat person' until that fateful day, when I found our abandoned tiny kitten, with a barely discernible body temperature, dying, while screaming, by the side of the road. It was -25 degree celsius that early winter's morning, 12 years ago. ... It was barbarism on an unfathomable scale. ... (I have written about her, my special cat, the love in my life, many times.) Hers is an instructive life, full of incredible insights for me. ... How does anyone arrive at the cold-blooded decision to inflict pain and suffering on an innocent creature? Most condemned to death are, generally, those very young or very old or deemed an 'inconvenience'. Having written about our experiences in rescuing 2 dogs and one cat, I cannot fathom any decision that sanctions abandonment, abuse or torture. We took those abandoned animals into our hearts and home because to do otherwise was totally unconscionable. For a short time, we were homeless, too. Whatever our situation, abandoning our pets was never a solution. They were family, too!

Modern society is a high-tech bustling place, an unforgiving and indifferent one, at times, with schedules that defy reason. We walk, drive and live with distraction. It is a choice we make. Our personal devices rule us. In business, at the gym, in the home and on the street we walk without missing a beat of 'screen' time.

The internet and all of its tributaries are incredible tools of life that both help and hinder society. It is incomprehensible to me how any animal becomes a target for intentional abuse. What rules had he broken? None, of course. He was simply born. And what does that say about us?