The Big EasyPINIMAGE

The Big Easy

 

 

I must, least I loose my street cred, say right up front, that NO ONE in this town refers to New Orleans as ‘The Big Easy’.

 

 

 

This was a fabricated ‘term’ made-up by Hollywood paper-pushers to sell tickets to this movie. Well enough.

 

 

What we do refer to ourselves as is The Crescent City, the City Of Second Chances, The Center Of The Universe, and the best damn place in the whole freakin’ world to hang your hat.

 

 

What we produce (as a State) is… 70% of all the fish consumed in the USA, Movies (we’re #1 for active production with California & Canada tying for 2nd place), 30% of all agriculture (livestock feed, fruits and produce) Energy (petrol, wind, natural gas), Import/Export (both domestic and international), and shipbuilding. Well enough, but a bit boring.

 

 

Let’s discuss what we produce that we are the most proud of … great Chefs, great food, great cocktails, great architecture, great festivals, great art, great music, great times.

 

 

Why does this happen here?

 

 

Why…Why…Why???

 

 

I’ve given this a lot of thought and have come up with a few unique cultural differences:

 

 

The State’s Civil laws are carved from Napoleonic Codes- still. These laws are VERY female and child friendly. As such, there are a lot of happy women here. They open the businesses their former partners thought they couldn’t handle– and are laughing all the way to the bank. Ha. Ha… HA.

 

 

The region was settled by European wealth, pirates, and people that were thrown out of other places. This is a great combo- money, people who know to hide money, and people who are willing to do whatever they need to do for money create new streams of commerce. They had to learn to live together to survive the heat and the swamps. Toss in a little malaria and a revolving door of Imperial ownership (Spanish-French-Spanish-French-USA) and you get a very inclusive society that pretty much just did what they wanted. We still do.

 

 

New Orleans has a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. A true ‘vivre et laisser vivre’ attitude. I real ‘I’ll do my thing, you do yours and we’ll meet for drinks’ kind of awesomeness.

 

 

I typical day goes something like this: wake-up late, go out for coffee, smell the jasmine, dance a little to the jazz tunes you hear coming over the rooftops, swing by the fishmonger, strike-up conversation with the Chefs that are in line, get an invite to join in a private party after hours at their restaurants because you’re fabulous, meet up with a girlfriend for grilled oysters and champagne in the late afternoon, invite her to the party, go home and change your single-strand day pearls for your multi-strand evening pearls, fill your to-go cup of libation while applying mascara and telling your husband there is no need for him to accompany you, call a cab, refill your to-go cup of libation, wind through our narrow streets yelling out salutations to pedestrians, get several other invitations, consider them, end up somewhere where you will eat gumbo, get the name of the stylist that does the maitre d’ drag Queen’s wigs and who tells you who you should see about getting into the back door of the Jazz club down the block where Jonny Lang is on stage with the house band tearing one up off tour, and finally, get a late night beignet, ’cause a girl’s gotta eat to keep her strength…

 

 …to do it all over again.

 

Cafe AmeliePINIMAGE

Cafe Amelie



  • Carollynn - You nailed it. That is the life. Working on making it mine.ReplyCancel

  • Diane - Sounds like the Crescent City is a large slice of perfection! I must come and visit! I’ll call first . . .ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - A simple email would suffice my dear Diane. The door is always open. XXOOReplyCancel

  • Jeffrey Scott - Great Scott, what a post.
    Such information may come in handy when I come to visit the city.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - There’s a whole playbook- (I’m NOT kidding) but I can’t remember the title!! Anywho- just bring your wonderful self and the city will embrace you.ReplyCancel

  • Pia Savage - You had me at “wake up late.”
    In NY everybody has to prove how busy and productive they are so it’s wake up early.
    When I moved to South Carolina and didn’t want appointments before 10AM–8 AM if it had to do with my house renovation people would make snide comments and talk among each other about my need to sleep late—and really I just like to write without people around
    I’ve never heard anybody call NY “The Big Apple.” And lately I’ve heard Times Square referred to as “Times.” Never plus no real New Yorker would ever go there except for a play or an appointment
    You shouldn’t show that picture or talk about New Orleans to a person who is on a diet
    I did love The Big Easy–the movie. It was a perfect 1980’s romance.ReplyCancel

  • Cathy Chester - I wish I knew you when we took our vacation in New Orleans (my 10 year old son’s choice!) during pre-Katrina. Cheryl we probably walked right by your house. I must say we had some of the BEST meals there. My husband does a lot of research before we go away, so every meal was great, plus one French place we took a chance on and yum. My son was wide-eyed walking down Bourbon Street! xoxo Great post. Oysters and champagne? Book me now!ReplyCancel

  • Tammy Bleck - Love New Orleans. My aunt still lives there. I remember going to my first Mardi Gras when I was 25. Crazy town! The best part was listening to Al Hurt and sipping hot coffee and eating a freshly baked croissant on the banks of the great river at 5:30 in the morning. It was packed. No one sleeps in NOLA. It is a city that is personal in the grandest of ways. Just like you!ReplyCancel

  • Tam Warner Minton - Okay, I need to refresh my knowledge of the Napoleonic Code.ReplyCancel

  • Alison F. - I LOVE New Orleans. Went there for my honeymoon. Still miss it – miss the smells, the sounds, the people. Amazing city.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - There is simply nothing more sublime then smelling the flowers wrapping themselves around a pot of gumbo in someone’s kitchen while music trills in from above. It happens every day! I’m so lucky. *wink*ReplyCancel

  • Richard Rumple - My wife and I spent our honeymoon there. It was fantastic. Later, I lived just north in Baton Rouge and loved it. The food was tremendous. It’s impossible to find true Cajun food in Kentucky and I miss is so. May have to go back for our 40th anniversary (if I make it that long, lol). However, Ellen Barkin was really hot in the movie even if Dennis Quaid’s accent left something to be desired. :)ReplyCancel

  • Lisa at Grandma's Briefs - What a magical, charmed life it sounds like you (and all the other happy women in NOLA) live. I’m delighted to live vicariously through you now and then. (And hungry now, too!)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s a HAPPY place, Lisa. I think you’d fit in perfectly!ReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I’m just drooling over the food and sighing at the thought of a typical day for you!! :)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Of course I didn’t mention the laundry and the time I spend writing this dang blog- but you get the picture. *wink*ReplyCancel

  • Cary Vaughn - Reading this took me back to the time I went on an art-buying trip with a friend that owned a gallery in Oxford, MS. We had such a fantastic time in New Orleans and absorbed as much of the culture as we could. During one of our excursions, we found a very small bar with a live band (drummer, guitar, and bass). The bass player was a rather friendly female that strongly resembled Mick Jagger. While playing, our eyes met. She effortlessly climbed onto the bar, strolled on the bar towards me, and crouched so that she could plant her crotch in my face as she played. My art-gallery friend has a picture of this somewhere. Wonder if I can dig it up.
    Sigh. Good times. It really makes me miss New Orleans. Thank you for inspiring that flashback.ReplyCancel

  • Doreen McGettigan - That settles it, I need to schedule another visit.
    I know there are an awful lot of pretty famous authors that live in the area too!ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - Oh, girl, I want YOUR life. I love New Orleans and haven’t been in at least 12 years. It’s on the list.ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - LOL Waking up late is 6:00 a.m. There is no way I could consume that amount of food or liquor now. Now being the optimum word.ReplyCancel

  • Nancy Hill (@Nerthus) - I knew that Spanish settled lands tended to have more women-friendly laws than those settled by Northern Europeans, but I did not know about the Napoleonic whatever. I will have to check that out!ReplyCancel

  • Gary Sidley - You vividly convey the spirit and character of your city, with your inimitable style. A wonderful post.

    New Orleans is one the (many) places I intend to visit over the next few years. To date, New York and Florida are the only parts of America I’ve experienced. From your description, I’m sure I’m missing out.ReplyCancel

  • Penelope Shelfer - Hell. Yes.

    Excellent article, my friend!ReplyCancel

 

We have been a bit b-u-s-y lately. (Actually, I should say, ‘I’ have been busy. Ben just pretty much shows up to play Master Of The Universe. Sound familiar gals?).

 

Over the past FOUR weeks we have hosted TEN people, in THREE groups. In. Our. Home… Sleepovers. With meals.

 

 

This, factually, accounts for a total of FOUR beds being changed THREE times which equals TWELVE sets, which equals FIFTY TWO pieces, EIGHT towel sets being laundered FOUR times, which equals NINETY SIX pieces, THIRTY SIX meals cooked & served, which equals (I don’t have a fucking clue how many dishes?), TWENTY FOUR dishwasher loads In & Out, FORTY EIGHT rolls of TP, TWO freezers stocked, TWO refrigerators full-up, THREE filled Easter baskets (SIX more delivered), FIVE dinner reservations, ONE brunch, THREE dinner parties, SIX trips to the airport, FOUR cabs, and EIGHT Hurricanes (It’s a drink. I need them.)

 

 

Am I tired?

 

Yes.

 

Will I do it again?

 

Yes, and here’s why: Aside from the fact that I LOVE these people, I know how to run my house like a hotel (…and who among us doesn’t LOVE a Five Star? ***hand waving***)

 

Am I a one-woman staff of eight? Why, yes I am. But I have a few secrets… Organization, Planning, Inventory, and Involvement.

 

Let’s discuss…

 

Be ORGANIZED, and by that I don’t just mean having all of your flatware in the same kitchen drawer, I mean having available space in bedroom closets and dresser drawers, creature comforts (like Kleenex and Tylenol and shaving cream and razors and fresh toothbrushes, etc., and even baby wipes if it’s appropriate) at the ready and within arms reach at Midnight without calling you for help. No one wants to be a pain in your ass when they’re on your dime. I mean having duplicate cleaning supplies all together- on each floor. I mean extra iphone chargers- by each bed. I mean make your guests independent of you.

 

 

PLAN, and by plan I mean, have an ITINERARY, which includes not only activities but meals- and make it flexible. I will have at least one suggested activity per day (There is a back-up for rain) and always a block of time unscheduled for naps, reading, neighborhood walks, or just plain down time. The way I get our guests to happily participate in this is to tell them I’M TAKING A BREAK before starting the evening and the preparation for the last meal of the day. Which brings me to menus. Take stock of your guests (their ages, restrictions, ridiculous vegan lifestyles) and plan your meals before they arrive. In fact, shop for ingredients and prepare as much as you can beforehand. I keep the disposable aluminum pan companies in business. Also, having an axillary freezer is worth it’s weight in diamonds- which is saying A LOT, coming from me- because I cook with all my diamonds dripping from my slender youthful wrists.

 

 

INVENTORY perishables, and by perishables I seriously mean toilet paper and chips & dip (as well as other items, of course). It’s all equally important.  And remember to keep them where they’re needed, which means the TP should not be in the kitchen and the chips don’t belong on the floor of your car.

 

 

INVOLVEMENT, and by that, I mean, not only encouraging your guests to participate in the kitchen and garden, the evening’s Netflix selection and which vintage will be uncorked, but driving (which in my case usually involves those FOUR Hurricanes that I mentioned above). It also might mean giving them a ‘break’ from all involvement- an opportunity to rest.  You should provide that too. You’ll rest when you die.

 

 

One time, many years ago, our son Chase, angered after finding his smelly sheets changed, floating bits of paper discarded, his videos put back in their correct sleeves, and the last piece of his favorite pie eaten (but replaced with a new desert), said to his father, “Dad! She makes me crazy! Mom’s makes me feel like I’m in a hotel!”.

 

 

“How lucky are we?”, he replied.

 

 

I think the better question is, ‘How lucky am I?”.

 

The answer…

 

 

Very.

 

When Home is a Hotel- Thank GOD!PINIMAGE

When Home is a Hotel- Thank GOD!



  • Doreen McGettigan - My husband laughs at me because I do try to anticipate every wish and need of my guests before they arrive.
    I love having company especially the grand kid kind:)
    Great tips!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I wonder if he’d laugh if you just let it all fall apart? I doubt it. I know my Ben has come to expect such treatment. I’ve spoiled him.ReplyCancel

  • Connie McLeod - I’m ready to check into the Cheryl Hotel!!ReplyCancel

  • Diane - Great advice! Working on being as organized as you. I LOVE being the hotel! We don’t have as many visitors as we used to, but still, at times, we’re BUSY!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I do too! Ya know- organization is like a ‘Lifestyle’ issue. Think of it like committing to eating healthy but don’t forget the wine! OH YEA!ReplyCancel

  • Tam Warner Minton - Organization is not my middle name. I can relate to the hotel as in chaos….but if I didn’t have help, I’d be up a tree.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Hotels (behind the scenes) are either chaotic or run like the USS Franklin. But on the surface they are ‘peace’. I choose peaceful- it just takes prep. ps: I have ‘help’ when I really need it, like over 18 people.ReplyCancel

  • Sheryl - Whew! I’m tired just reading this. But I admire your organization and ability to anticipate every need. If I need a hotel, er, a place to stay, I know who to call!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - That would require a bottle of vino, which I’m sure you could provide…. HA hahahaaa! Thanks Sheryl!ReplyCancel

  • Sharon Hodor Greenthal - This is all good advice and I have to say, I admire your energy and enthusiasm! I love when my kids come to visit – for a day or a weekend – and fortunately, they know where the Kleenex is – but often forget the phone chargers!ReplyCancel

  • Nancy Hill - I am incapable of such organization. And that is okay. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and while I am a marvelous tour guide, I am incapable of getting things done while there are people around.ReplyCancel

  • Gary Sidley - I guess it’s the price you pay, Cheryl Nicholl, for being the hostess with the mostess!ReplyCancel

  • Roshni - Your guests are very very lucky and I am shamelessly going to beg to stay at your place if I ever visit your city!!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - And I will graciously accept your shame. {{{hugs}}}ReplyCancel

  • Alyson Rennick Herzig - It’s official I’m calling you the next hostess event I have.ReplyCancel

  • Gogogirl Ghandour - I love your planning tips. Such a refreshing post!
    I used to stress with all the details before guests (including my children) arrive and during, now I just let it happen and enjoy them. Everything always works out and everyone is happy. Hugs :)ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - I get it.That’s how I run it when I have houseguests. Love it!ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - Oh you are a much better woman than I! My mom used to say that fish and company stink after 3 days….Sometimes on day 4 of our visit! You are a wonder :)!ReplyCancel

  • Carollynn Hammersmith - Hmmm, so that’s how you do it… ;) here’s hoping you got some rest before the next trip. BTW – So great to see you!ReplyCancel

  • Carollynn Hammersmith - Oh, yeah, and publish the Pimms Cup recipe, please.ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - I would need those drinks too with that much company. I only had one and she didn’t make it in on the day she planned. Yes, I loved every minute of it. I had to eliminated two of my planned outings. There wasn’t time.ReplyCancel

  • WendysHat - I love these helpful tips and ideas for guests. Anyone would truly feel welcome staying at your house. I agree that planning ahead is key to success.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - and we could garden together! Wouldn’t that be fun!!!ReplyCancel

  • Rena McDaniel - It does sound like you have been very busy and super organized! I had a lot of company over the Easter holiday and now it is time to rest…or go shopping…same thing!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - HA! Yes- retail therapy always works for me!!!ReplyCancel

  • Sue - So happy you had family visiting. I am exhausted just reading about all the prep though. You are so well organized and I will remember the cool tips like chargers in the bedroom. Growing up in a house of 10 people there were always tons of dishes to wash and pots of food to cook and don’t get me started on the piles of laundry me and Mom did.ReplyCancel

 

 

Peach Pie- and other Tarts. All done!PINIMAGE

Peach Pie- and other Tarts. All done!

 

When I was a kid, my grandfather used to speak like an alien to me.

 

He used phrases that might as well have been Greek. (See what I did there? ‘Might as well been Greek’ was one of his favorites).

Here are some examples:

 

“Hi Grandpa.”

 

“Well, don’t you look like the bee’s knee’s.”

 

“Bees have knees?”

 

“If you believe that one, you better not take any wooden nickels. Now come here and gimme some sugar!

 

cluelesssssssss

 

“Grandpa. I need some help.”

 

“You’re a good egg. I’ll make it right as rain.”

 

WTH???

 

“Grandpa. Grandma’s looking for you.”

 

“She acts like the Queen of Sheba. Tell her I jumped ship with a bucket of worms.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Grandpa. Grandma and I are going shopping.

 

“Jesus K Riste. She already owns everything and the kitchen sink!”

 

I’m confusedddddd.

 

“Grandpa. That man’s waving at us.”

 

“Don’t know him from Skippy.”

 

Was his name Skippy? And if so, how could he not know him and yet know his name???? Ohhhhh the questions.

 

And finally, “Grandpa. I’m going downstairs to play the organ. Wanna sing along?”

 

“You’re the Cat’s Meow, Cheryl. I’d love to. Sweet as peaches. Your Grandmother says my claptrap is horsefeathers. But your asking the choir!”

 

I do love cat’s. Any kind of trap sounds bad though. I didn’t know he sang in the church choir, but I get the ‘Peaches’ reference…

 

“Let’s ask Grandma to bake us a pie!”

 

“Good idea. She’s can bake-up a storm.”

 

“That sounds kinda awesome. The whole controlling the weather thing.”

 

“What are you talking about, Cheryl?”

 

 

Grandma’s Peach Pie

 

Ingredients

Prepared pastry- enough for two pie shells

8 peaches- poached (see directions)

* 2 quarts water

* 1 cup sugar

1/2 cup peach liquid

2 tablespoons corn starch

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons salted butter

pinch of salt

 

Directions for Poaching Peaches

Bring the 2 quarts of water to a boil. Add the one cup of sugar. Reduce heat and dissolve the sugar. Do not let this mixture come back to a boil.

 

Slice each peach in half and remove the pits. Scoop out any fiber from the center.

 

Place the halved peaches, skin side down, in the hot pot of sugar water. Let them cook for 10 minutes then remove them to a shallow pan and pour the syrup over them. Let this sit until room temperature then remove the skins.

 

Reserve 1/2 cup of the syrup.

Slice the soft peaches and put aside.

 

Directions for the Pie Assembly

 

Reheat the 1/2 cup of reserved liquid to simmer.

Add the additional 1/2 cup of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, lemon juice and butter blending it all.

Whisk in the corn starch to this mixture until smooth.

Remove from heat.

 

Line your pie tins.

Arrange the peach slices in the bottom.

Pour the liquid syrup over the top.

 

Bake at 425 for 40 minutes.

 

I made tartlets, instead of pie. These are right before going in the oven.PINIMAGE

I made tartlets, instead of pie. These are right before going in the oven.



  • Roshni AaMom - *GASP* I was laughing at the grandpa-grandchild dialogue but then an amazing recipe!! And those pies look oh-so-amazing, Cheryl!!ReplyCancel

  • Sue - Loved the fun slang talk from our Grandparent’s days. I used to hear “Don’t know him from Adam” so maybe Skippy knew Adam and I kind of remember “cook up a storm” too. You’re a riot! Adore the peach pie tartlets that look better than anything. As soon as peaches around here look better, I want to try this pie.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Oh yes- I remember that one. I believe Adam and Skippy were nieghbors! SO funny Sue. If you try this tart give me jungle and suggest any changes. Love ya!ReplyCancel

  • Gary Sidley - My grandmother’s favourite phrase was ‘There’s nought queerer than folk’. And this was in the days long before homosexual freedoms. Very confusing.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes. Confusing. Did she mean no queerer than queer folk or just regular folk? I think just ‘regular’ which I totally agree with. Glad to have perspective from the other side of the pond!ReplyCancel

  • Jeffrey Scott - What a fantastic post. Love the photo and recipe. Now if I could just get ambitious enough to try making this.

    As for the ‘alien’ speech, they truly are gems.
    In truth, if aliens listened to the many things we said, they’d wonder what we were talking about. So many colloquialisms.

    Thanks for sharing the post.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Why THANK YOU Jeffrey! If you do prepare the recipe let me know how I can improve I, okay?ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - Those tarts look like the bee’s knees and they’d make you right as rain!ReplyCancel

  • Alma Calabrese - Cheryl , This made my day !ReplyCancel

  • Doreen McGettigan - My granddad talked like that too. When I was really little it kind of scared me. I did love being in the kitchen with my grandmother even when she washed and reused aluminum foil.
    Thank you for sharing this recipe, it looks good!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - They were seriously weird. Washed and reused the aluminum foil. Sounds like my my grandparent’s house!ReplyCancel

  • Eve Gaal - That looks amazing but I’m not sure what the peach liquid is. Is it the same as the peach syrup? Confused. Hugs.ReplyCancel

  • Carolann Iadarola - lol cute and yummy! I’m going to try this recipe for sure! I love anything with peaches in it!ReplyCancel

  • MJM - I can’t cook to save my life, even when using a recipe, I somehow find a way to screw it up. Cooking aside, your grandpa sounds freaking awesome, someone I would have loved to chill out with.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - He was MJ. I real dapper do (another one of his favorite sayings). Hahahaa. God I miss him….ReplyCancel

  • Janie Emaus - Too funny! My Grandpa spoke Yiddish, which I didn’t understand at all.ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Those tarts are amazing looking! I will be having sweet dreams of those tonight!ReplyCancel

  • Kimba - Love the list of conversational slang – in the south we’re big on this. I’m fixin to try this recipe for sure!!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Just remember to go make groceries first! (I love Southern slang).ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - The Queen of Sheba, huh?

    I love a good peach pie.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Me too. Seriously an incredible fruit. And lemons, and lime.ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Oh, he was a bit Southern all right. You were lucky to have your Grandfather. Confusing a child is sometimes good. The peach pie looks delicious. No, I’m not making one as I’m one person. It looked so good, I could almost smell it.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - But he WASN’T Southern! He was a good old farm boy from Pennsylvania! But I think wonderful people translate in any region! And for all time. I miss him so.ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Oh, he was a bit Southern all right. You were lucky to have your Grandfather. Confusing a child is sometimes good. The peach pie looks delicious. No, I’m not making one as I’m one person. It looked so good, I could almost smell it.ReplyCancel

  • Shelley Zurek - Totally gorgeous. Do you use Easy Recipe Plus for you recipes? Google finds them much easier and this is such a lovely one. You should do a separate post just on poaching of peaches for SEO!ReplyCancel

  • Terrye - LMAO! That sounds like my Oklahoma grandpa! And those pies…my mom used to have peaches shipped up once a year (to Alaska and it was EXPENSIVE) just to make a couple of peach pies. Then we’d invite everyone over and have a huge party.

    One year, we took them out to a lake to have a BBQ. The pies were sitting on the picnic table when a momma black bear and her two cubs stormed into the area. They stole everything off the grill AND the peach pies. My mom chased the momma bear with a big stick cuz she done lost her mind.

    Thanks for sharing your recipes and your wonderful grandfather! :DReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - And he was from Pennsylvania, but really had the twenty-two skadoo under his belt. His generation was a riot!ReplyCancel

 

It seems to me, that in Life, a person should be able to count on a few things to be true: your mother and the deliciousness of a chocolate croissant.

 

Other then that, all bets are off.

 

The problem is that we all get caught-up in the mind-numbing illogic of rumors, advertising, old wives tales, people we want to impress, love, hatred, apathy… google search results. You get my drift.

 

Well, this is never more evident then when we are young.

 

My youth was filled with bad information. Some of it I even believed. Some of it I defended. Some of it I got employment from. Some of it took me out on the town.

 

Here is a list of out-n-out LIES the 1970s told us all:

 

That your grandmother’s cooking was too rich for good health. LIE. Turns out that Grandma was using fresh and whole foods. Grandma didn’t use any ingredients she couldn’t pronounce. Grandma was pretty smart.

 

That the USA would commit for now and all time to developing space exploration. LIE. Someone forgot to tell JFK about the future expense of a Global Economy not to mention expanding social services, a weapons race, and the true desire of the population: an expansion of direct streaming cable networks ’cause that’s what’s really important.

 

Going braless was liberating and beautiful. LIE. More like a idea that could have only come from the mouths of youthful perky boobs without a thought for the results at midlife. Dear God Woodstock be damned.

 

Women could have it all. LIE. First of all, what did that mean?  Certainly no one in their right mind was suggesting that women should be superhuman and that if they didn’t bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan while nursing a child with one hand and giving a hand*** with the other she wasn’t living up to her full and Universal potential?  Nahhhh. No one did that.

 

Free Love was without consequences. LIE. Unless, of course, you value your health and actually toyed with the idea that you should at least know someones name before you received an STD.

 

All people are equal. LIE. They are not, but they should receive equal protection, equal initial advantage, equal Rights. What I want to yell at someone about is why I’m not aging like Heidi Klum? Who do I see about that?

 

Misunderstood, seemingly half-baked Medical advancements would lead to cloning. LIE. Remember that? When LIFE magazine did that article on Dolly the Sheep that said stem cell research would lead to a world full of human robots, because really, could any of us stand more Heidi Klum beauty in the world? (I’m on a Klum kick today).

 

Traveling was best when done on the cheap- more wholesome, more real. LIE. Book a room at a 5-star and call me.

 

Vitamin supplements could cure anything. LIE. And yet we still purchase them by the pound. We are a hopeful bunch.

 

Sun tanned skin was healthy and desirable. Even younger. LIE. Have you seen my skin?

 

Formal education was unnecessary. LIFE was the best teacher. LIE. This was espoused by young hippie parents who were on the dole from their hardworking parents. Come to think of it….

 

The Beatles would reunite. LIER. LIER. PANTS ON FIRE! But wouldn’t it have been loverly?

 

The LIES the 1970s Told UsPINIMAGE

The LIES the 1970s Told Us



  • Cary Vaughn - About #2, can you just imagine what we would be able to accomplish if money and economy weren’t a factor in progress? I may actually have had my own clone by now.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - We’s have colonized Mars by now and left the clones to deal with this mess on Earth.ReplyCancel

  • Shelley Zurek - This ^^^^. Probabaly my favorite article of yours. Nodded my head through the whole thing!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - HA! Thank you. You’re a sweetheart!! I guess every generation has their LIEs but the 70s were full-up with bs.ReplyCancel

  • Cindy Falteich - If hindsight is 20/20 does that make that era 20/70? PS. Heidi Klum has nothing over you. ;)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I believe you’re right- 20/70! As far as The Klum goes- no ones asking me to design a lingerie line…. Thanks for stopping by Cindy. Much appreciated!ReplyCancel

  • Doreen McGettigan - It has been a throw back Thursday. I haven’t thought about it until now but wow you are so right, it was all lies:)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Lies. LIes. LIES! Like every generation has. I wonder what LIES my kid’s will say about the 2000s? Oh boy…ReplyCancel

  • Lisa at Grandma's Briefs - Oh how I wish I would have done a post on the ’80s today. Between you and Carol and me, we’d have throwback thursday covered.

    Love your list. Tanning? GAH! I’ve always had a thing about that and the horrors we inflict on our poor skin. You can kind of tell the older women who grew up with the idea that tanning is okay and good for you. Poor things. :-(ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes we would have. There was A LOT of Throw Back posts and I didn’t even do this one on purpose! As for ‘tanning’ I’m so glad the current younger generation is off of this kick. My 26 yo daughter wouldn’t be caught dead in a tanning bed.ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - I’m sooo tired right now, but I can’t stop sitting here thinking about those lies! Lies and damn lies! We have coordinating posts, right?ReplyCancel

  • Amethyst Moon - This post has everything, politics, music, boobs…it’s a post about the 70’s alright! Great read!ReplyCancel

  • Tammy - It’s a damn good thing I didn’t listen to anyone in the 70’s. Oh, yeah, grandma had it right….fried chicken in a skillet with a dab of Crisco. I can smell it now!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Oh yea…… Fried eggs in butta and homemade bread slathered in warm jam. Oh boy….ReplyCancel

      • carollynn - Oh god, stop, you’re both making me hungry. fried chicken… drool…ReplyCancel

  • Mary La Fornara Gutierrez - So, so true! The ’70 were quite something, I do remember my mom saying bell bottom pants make your butt look smaller! Ha, I think she was lying.ReplyCancel

  • Janie Emaus - Love these insightful obbservations. No lie.ReplyCancel

  • Angela Hall Weight - This was really cute. Love the grandma’s cooking one.ReplyCancel

  • Estelle Sobel Erasmus - It’s funny. When I think of the 70s, despite all the wildness the young people seem to have been so innocent.ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Oh, you are so right. And I can’t even always get a delicious chocolate croissant these days. But, yes, I can always count on my mom :)ReplyCancel

  • The GypsyNesters - Love it! Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Just struck me that even more shocking than the Beatles somehow miraculously reuniting might be the fact that The Rolling Stones are still together!ReplyCancel

  • Vashti Quiroz-Vega - Ha, ha! I was born in the 80s and we had our share of lies being fed to us too. The Indians were the bad guys,the government would never lie to us, money and success was the panacea, Pluto was a planet . . . And we’re still being lied to. The truth is––not all muslims are terrorists or all terrorists muslims, they were not looking for ‘weapons of mass destruction’ they went in looking for oil (not our soldiers but the government), women are still not considered equal in the work force, and prejudice is still alive and well. So sad. :(ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - A lot hasn’t changed has it? I think the LIES are worse now actually. What a world.ReplyCancel

  • Carollynn Hammersmith - I straddle both the 70’s and the 80’s… Oh the lies I was told and believed – in the 70’s I think were foolish but hopeful, uninformed liars, but in the 80’s out and out liars, no remorseReplyCancel

  • Rena McDaniel - Ha! I loved this piece Cheryl! I laughed all the way through it.ReplyCancel

  • Sue - Loved this trip back to the 70s as only you could tell it so well and with so much laughter.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It was a funny decade! I didn’t have to try too hard.ReplyCancel

  • Haralee - I believed all the lies too! Modern day lies are here too but I think I am more skeptical this time around.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - With age comes wisdom and knowing how to smell a rat!ReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I was born in the seventies and therefore am a creature more of the ’80s but I still heard those lies!! Great one, Cheryl!!ReplyCancel

The first thing we all have to agree on is that if there ever is an event on an awesome catastrophic scale, those that survive will need to be heavily armed and know how to distill whiskey.

 

 Every time my husband discovers me setting up odd equipment involving rubber tubing & smoked Spanish paprika or doing something behind a closed door (‘Cheryl. What are you up too now? This better not cost me any money!”) I simply answer with “Someone’s gonna need to know how to do this in case the World comes to end! Well-oiled flints and a decent sourdough starter will be what keeps us alive!”, by which he replies, “Oh boy. How did the children survive?…” and continues watching ESPN.

So, because I’m nothing if not cynical cautious  a Girl Scout, I would like to share with you the skills I believe are always going to make the difference between life (albeit with 12 toes from radioactive fallout, but I’ve always felt an extra two would be superb for my Yoga practice ’cause I sure as hell can’t do it on ten) and being vaporized.

I will need to know how to:

  1. Pick locks. And by ‘locks’ I mean choosing the best clip-on hair extensions at Ms Boobalicious’s salon down the street. I can’t afford them at this time. I am counting on supply and demand to kick-in.

  2. Tan—- leather. I’ll still desire a new Spring handbag each season (What? Should I stop ‘living’?) and I’m assuming I’ll be fried enough from the fallout to make it through a nuclear winter so spending time in a tanning bed would be silly- and I hear they’re not good for you- so there’s that.

  3. Produce copious amounts of tomatoes and pot. Together. A hybrid. I will call them Really Better Big Boys or maybe Aunt Cheryl’s Caprese Grass Salad fixin’s? Yes- with a nice balsamic drizzle.

  4. Hot wire a car. This will be the perfect opportunity to economically expand my expensive automobile collection and drive as fast as I want. All ‘photo enforced’ speed traps will be snapping away at my middle finger.

  5. Syphon gas… and Vodka.

  6. Generate power. No- not the kind that runs your appliances. Amateurs

  7. Catch, reel-in, decapitate, gut, fillet and grill a Zombie fish. Or a Zombie.

  8. Diagnose and treat improperly accessorized mean girl’s evening ensembles medical issues.

  9. Develop black market items into the NEW economy. This will require anyone left in Washington DC to be summarily exiled and replaced by people that actually understand what’s going on. I’ve always liked a white house.

  10. And finally… Grow grapes. Not really ‘grow’ as much as cultivate and harvest. Well, really, not ‘harvest, so much as ferment. Oh hell, who am I kidding?

 

 

I’ll need to know how to make wine.

 

Bottoms UP!PINIMAGE

Bottoms UP!

 

What would YOU need to learn?



  • Diane - When the time comes, I’m living next to you. Provided you don’t mistake me for a Zombie. (It has happened . . .)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You are so funny! We’d make great neighbors!!!ReplyCancel

  • Cary Vaughn - First of all, I laughed my ass off at #6.
    Second, I think I’m in serious trouble if I, too, want to maintain my lifestyle after the apocalypse. I better get to work!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Ha! Lets’ make a pact to meet half way up the Big Muddy and pool our resources!ReplyCancel

  • Abby - Absoluetly loved it! It seems there are more midlife crisis nuts than just me:))) And isn’t it funny that we got the same idea: airpocalypse/apocalypse at the same time?! I will definitely check your stuff from time to time:)
    AbbyReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Well HELLO there! Wonderful!!!! Me too` Luv your shizzz….ReplyCancel

  • Laraine Orfanedes Durham - Wine, for sure!ReplyCancel

  • Sue Pekarek - Daughter says I need to watch Survivor Man so I have mad skills when the world comes to an end, so knowing what nuclear bugs to eat and not eat seems important. Tom Hanks inability to start a fire in Castaway makes me want to take how to start a fire from scratch lessons, and in the after world I’ll promote my big yard to rent out space for people to grow their own food including grapes of course.ReplyCancel

  • Kathy Radigan - Very cute! And I got agree with you, I better start going to lock picking school now!ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - I’d need to learn to…be in your group Cheryl Nicholl!ReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Grandmas Briefs - Ewww… dont grill the zombies! They’re tainted! ( Don’t you watch The Walking Dead!?) I’ll join ya for the hybrid tomato pot though. Or the wine! Cheers!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Hahahaaaaa….. I’m thinking that Zombie meat might be the new Kale. You can talk people into anything if you just say it’s ‘good for you’.ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - Well, I wouldn’t have much need of fermenting grapes….ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - But you will need petrol to tool around taking all of your fabulous photographs, so I just thought of another thing: syphoning gas. I’ll ride shot-gun and drink the wine. We’d have a good time!ReplyCancel

  • Lance - 4 & 7 I have down…we need some community college classes for the other ones.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Excellent! I’m actually learning about the fish gutting from a friend of mine. He said “Cheryl, why do you want to learn to do this? You live right by Big Fisherman” (a local fishmonger) and I told him “so that I know how to gut Ben.”- THEN he understood.ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - I’m comin’ over to your pad when it hits. Just sayin’. I want to go laughing!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Me too Carol. I’ll have a room ready for you! HAHAHAReplyCancel

  • Cathy Chester - I would love to climb inside of your brain someday to find out exactly how you think. Such a creative mind! I wonder if you dream in color, too! :-) As for the whiskey? Not my drink of choice, so I’ll have to find a runner up. Any suggestions, Cheryl?ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - I read this twice. Once using just the crossed out words and once using both! In case you were wondering, the emphasis on skinning zombies, distilling spirits, and fermenting grapes remains strong in both versions :)!ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Funny, you left out making beer. Of course, you would need to grow barley and hops for that and the ground might to too radioactive. Picking real locks is good or smashing windows. Who am I kidding? At my age the young ones would grab anything I had unless I somehow acquire sufficient fire power. Something I don’t see happening.ReplyCancel

  • Sharon Hodor Greenthal - How to grow and cultivate coffee and milk a cow, because without my coffee with half and half every day I’m vicious.ReplyCancel

  • Mary La Fornara Gutierrez - Thank you for making me smile! It has been a crazy long day and it was nice just to read your post and giggle a little bit!ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Wow, I have a lot to learn! I’m sticking with you if the apocalypse is on the way!ReplyCancel

  • Tammy - My gramps would always tell me that the best weapon to have was a shotgun. Because everyone in the world recognizes the sound of the rifle being readied and they run for the hills. So, yes…a shotgun. So we can consume mass libation and truffles in peace and quiet. Awesome fun!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - chink- chink I love that sound! We’ll be ready!ReplyCancel

  • Penelope Shelfer - I have the arsenal, and a few other goodies on hand. You and I must join forces and create a procedure for survival.ReplyCancel

  • Suheiry Feliciano - My husband and I talk about what we’d do in case of the apocalypse. It’s quite fun. You made us both laugh with your post. :)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - So nice! Another subject Ben and I like to discuss is what we’d do if we hit the Lotto! Now THAT’S fun! Thanks for stopping by!ReplyCancel

  • Mark R Hunter - Honestly? I’d just die.ReplyCancel

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