Humor

What Those Real Estate Ads Really Mean

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Originally appeared in the Real Estate section of the L. A. Times.)

Even though I am not planning on moving any time soon, I am a sucker for real estate ads. You know – those cute little blurbs that leap out and catch your eye, starting you thinking that this has got to be too good to be true (it usually is).

Still, I can’t help but think I am missing out on a great deal when I read, “priced below market,” or “decorator perfect,” knowing all the while that there is probably leopard skin fabric on the walls of the master bedroom.

I have still been fooled by these devious descriptions – enough so that I feel compelled to share with you what these ads really mean.

Perfect for handyman – The place is barely standing. The kind of house “The Money Pit” was based on.

Almost new – Kind of like almost pregnant. Continue reading →

Posh Restaurants Leave Me Out in the Cold

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(This essay originally appeared in The Beach Reporter, a newspaper for the beach community just south of Los Angeles.)

Just when you thought psychologists had unearthed every modern phobia known to man and woman, I’ve stumbled upon another one. This may not rank up there with fear of one’s own toes, or fear of dating bald men with hair on their backs, but if you live in L. A. it can be a debilitating one.

I’m referring to the fear of eating out at a posh restaurant when you know you’re not cool enough to be there. I’m not talking about the great beach restaurants, which are four-star in their own right because of their rapport with the locals.

It’s when you venture into Beverly Hills or Malibu that you are taking your chances on not being treated as a local, but as a local yokel. The first thought that comes to mind is that if you are afraid you aren’t cool enough to be at a certain restaurant, then you probably aren’t. But just try to get past that. The Restaurant Police aren’t going to come after you for trying to make a reservation. Continue reading →

A Parent’s Primer on Rock Concerts

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Originally published in The Chicago Tribune)

This short quiz is for the thousands of parents who blithely drop off their teenage sons and daughters at venues for rock concerts, usually sponsored by alternative rock station Q101. The six parents who actually go to the concerts, other than myself, are excused from the test. They receive an automatic “A” for attending, extra credit if they make it through without engaging in any embarrassing dance moves, and six gold stars if they still have their hearing intact.

1.) The last rock concert you attended was:
a.) Paul Revere and the Raiders
b.) Jimmy Buffet
c.) BareNaked Ladies

2.) Your last words as you drop your child off at Allstate Arena:
a.) Just ask one of the nice security guards if you need help with anything
b.) Don’t talk to strangers
c.) Don’t talk to girls wearing slutty black halter tops and navel rings

Continue reading →

January is the Cruelest Month

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(This essay originally appeared in The Beach Reporter, a community newspaper in southern CA, where I wrote a weekly column for five years.)

Poets may opine about April being the cruelest month, but to me January is the pits.  I can’t even be poetic about January.  January is a month that is just kind of there, waiting to be over with.

I suppose there are some people who like January.  They would claim it is a month for new beginnings, a time for assessing one’s strengths and weaknesses and moving ahead.  These are the same people who look at half a glass of water and see it as half-full.  The rest of us see it as half-empty.

I’m not depressing you, am I?  I can’t even say that January depresses me.  It’s more like a case of the blahs.  I suppose psychologists would call it something fancy like “post-holiday-letdown.”  They would tell you to do something cheery for yourself like get a manicure or take a vacation. Continue reading →