Tag Archives: over active imagination

Double Exposure

I had the most interesting experience yesterday—it was also enlightening.

On my walk every morning in Hawaii, I pass by the Canoe Club, a private facility for members of Hualalai Club. Yesterday as I chugged up the incline I noticed a photo shoot in session. Since I do the Members Blog, I stopped to take my own picture of this Hualalai happening.

Ah hah, I thought. This is the demographic they aim for: a young woman and a middle-aged man.

I took several photos of the set up and then of the silver haired photographer taking the photo of the couple lounging by the Jacuzzi. I guessed this photo would end up in a magazine, either advertising life style or the swimwear the two wore. I could see the woman was young and beautiful (although I never saw her face). Although I was at a distance from them, the man looked much older than she was.

I left and walked back home, creating a whole story about the modeling session, the models and the photographers. It was a good story with all kinds of judgments and critical assessments. I was happy with the picture I’d taken and the picture I’d created in my mind.

Then last night, I met all of them: the photographer, his assistant and the two models. It was a mind blower! I didn’t want to give up the story I’d woven for the actual reality, but what are you going to do when you’re confronted with the real people?

The man was much younger looking close up than from a distance. The woman looked just how I thought she would even if I’d imagined her.

“So here’s what I thought,” I told them. “Whoever you were shooting for, the demographics were a young woman with an older, successful man.”

“Thanks a lot, I think,” the man said.

“You look much younger, now that I’m meeting you,” I said.

He grinned, looking even more boyish.“ Now that’s good to hear.”

“How old are you?” I asked.

It turned out he was 53 and she was 40.

“Ah, so I wasn’t far off.” I gave them my know-it-all smile.

I told the photographer I’d taken a picture of him photographing the couple. “I hope I framed it well,” I said.

I turned to his assistant. “It was so early this morning it looked like you needed a cup of coffee to keep you awake.”

She looked startled and then gave me an embarrassed smile.

It turned out they were all from Oahu. The man was a teacher who worked with students from the Marshall Islands. I’d worked with students from there the year before when I volunteered at Palamanui Community College, so we chatted for a while.

As my husband and I walked away I said, “I feel like was just in a Woody Allen movie.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember in “Annie Hall” when Marshall McLuhan shows up? That’s how it felt. Kind of like a bent reality.”

As I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about meeting the real people who’d become figments of my imagination. It was interesting. But also a bit more than unsettling.


I hate to be a worrywart, but I am, always have been and probably always will be. One of the things that has bothered me for a while is cell phones. For years I’ve heard talk about the potential danger. Was it an urban legend that they were causing brain tumors or was it truth?

I will say that I’ve been called a Henny Penny (the sky is falling girl) Henny_penny

and a Nervous Nelly many times in my life. And it’s not an unwarranted slur. My mind just naturally goes to “what if the half full or empty glass falls off the counter and crashes onto the kitchen floor, shattering and slicing into the femoral artery of my nearest and dearest? What if the row boat sinks in the middle of the lake? What if the man who has locked himself in the lavoratory on my airplane is really a terrorist who has brought many tiny bottles onto the airplane and is now assembling them into a liquid nitrogen bomb? I am a writer, for goodness sake. I can’t help it if I have an overactive imagination.

I had a few extra minutes this morning as I woke up an hour before I needed to get up. (I’m not sure why, but it could have been the wind that was screeching around our doors and windows like banshees on the prowl.) With the extra time, I decided to check out Dr. Oz’s article: Dr. Oz: “5 Health Risks I Won’t Take—and Neither Should You”


Read more: http://www.oprah.com/health/Health-Risks-to-Avoid-Dr-Oz-on-Health-Hazards/3#ixzz2Q18aRKrS.

The first risk to avoid is Triclosan in your toothpaste, Dr. Oz advises. I immediately went into the bathroom. Geez, I tried to read the label on my toothpaste tube—it’s so small that it’s unreadable. I decided to forgo my brushing until I got a magnifying glass. Gingivitis is a small price to pay to avoid a potential carcinogen.

Advice Number 3 deals with cell phones…I knew it! Read the following and take heed.


“Science says: Cell phones emit radio frequency (RF) energy, a type of radiation deemed “possibly carcinogenic” by the International Agency for Research on Cancer. Unlike the radiation from a CT scan, RF energy isn’t strong enough to break DNA bonds, but the tissues near the ear you use when you’re on the phone can absorb it. Some research suggests that this could slightly increase your risk of developing brain tumors, but at least two studies that looked at brain tumor incidence among people who used cell phones regularly for ten years or more found no connection. While such news is reassuring, the medical community believes it’s difficult to know the health consequences of cell phone use until longer-term studies are done. 

For safety’s sake: Avoid keeping the phone pressed up against your ear; I use the speaker phone or a hands-free headset to reduce my RF exposure. Whenever possible, I also wait until I have strong cell phone reception to make calls; the weaker the signal, the more RF energy the phone emits to keep calls from dropping. At night, don’t sleep with your phone right next to your bed—it still releases RF when it’s transmitting data as you get pinged with e-mails and texts.”

OMG! I knew it! I told my kids, but would they believe me? Of course not; I’ve been giving out dire warnings for years. But they should listen. Even I can’t be wrong all the time.