"Let's hang out, do nothing, relax," cooed my friend.

"Ok, sure," I said, "I have no problem hanging out."

It's the doing nothing and trying to relax that's a problem for me. 

"Here" she said, tossing over one of her three hundred and forty two magazines she has at the ready, "chill out with this".

                  

Who could possibly chill out leafing through a Martha Stewart "idle hands make idle minds" tome?

Could I, with a toothpick, no less, make intricate, highly designed, multi colored patterns?

Who has toothpicks?  

Okay, maybe, somewhere in the bottom of the junk drawer, along with pushpins and paper clips lurks a toothpick or two. Since dental floss was invented, nary a soul I know attempts to dislodge something between their canine and molar with a toothpick. And, really, when was the last time you were at a cocktail party and someone offered you an hors d'oeuvre with a toothpick protruding from its middle. So unMartha. 

Suppressing the urge to leap from my chaise, find some ketchup and a twig to practice the art of twirling and swirling, I decided that perhaps a kinder and gentler magazine would lull me into a more relaxed state.

Real Simple, the anti Martha magazine, I thought, seemed like a logical choice.

I did spend a few minutes wondering if they used a focus group to come up with that name. "Real Simple" I suppose rolls more trippingly off the tongue than "This Isn't Really Difficult Dummy."

The first article I happened on was "Five Great Things About Getting Older."

Not kidding.

They were: "You'll be happier…Wise decisions will come more easily… Fashion police will be off your back… You'll know who you are…You'll have time on your hands."

Real Simple, huh?

I could relax now, couldn't I? Do nothing. Chill. Savor all the time on my hands, easily make decisions and know who I am. All while swathed in sweats and flip flops.

Think I'll go rustle up some toothpicks.