bikinis and brisket....

labor day weekend...the last "official" weekend of summer...time to soak up the waning rays...dine al fresco...late night ice cream run...defrost some brisket...what?, you might ask...this year has been one of unusually early jewish holidays...if you google it or if you are a more learned maven, you will read that it has something to do with lunar and solar calendars, and the jewish calendar adjusting to ensure a spring passover...in layman's terms it has meant an icy-cold, sweater-wrapped passover...now a new year the same week of labor day...and coming this fall, the first day of chanukah is...thanksgiving!!...giblets and gelt...crazy...it's hard to get my mind cleared and ready for the "days of awe"...truly the holiest of times for even the least observant...i remember being told when i was so young how it would be decided in those days who would be inscribed in the book of life for that new year...it was a large concept for a little soul and left me a little anxious...would G-d remember those instances of torture inflicted on my little brother?...or how my eyes may have roamed to the test page of the kid in the next row?...oh, how i tried to be good that week...i tried not to squirm when older relatives who smelled of mothballs and chicken soup squeezed my cheeks in earnest...i tried not to drive my mother to the brink of pre-rosh hashanah dinner insanity...i tried to do homework with a minimum of bitching...and then the holidays were gone...halloween was within my grasp, and dreams of chanukah toys in the not too distant future...and now i am older...in shorts, pushing a cart in fairway with a list and some old memories...at this point in life G-d and i have a silent understanding...my wishes are mixed in with honey cake and atonement, and are for those i love dearly...just hoping for a quiet week during these days of world chaos...just wishing all of you a sweet, happy new year...and above all else, may you and yours  be inscribed in the book of life...

blurred lines

blurred lines...the quintessential song of the summer...or as i refer to it brain crack...the minute it comes on the radio, it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain for the day...not a good thing since i seem to have trouble keeping anything else in there lately...i'm sure some of you can relate...you complete your "to-do" list only to realize that you forgot to put half the things you need to do on the list...it is part and parcel of age, or merely overload?...i couldn't really tell you because if i think about that, then the things i need to remember...the useless minutia of daily life...will slide into that bermuda triangle..blurred lines...those lines that writers walk along...like a tightrope...putting our work out there...asking for criticism, then cringing when it hits you like a shitstorm...and here i am, book number two a file in "my documents"...sending it out to small poetry presses...along with hundreds of other writers...for the chance at publication...most presses have only 3 or 4 slots open...you do the math...so hopeful as i hit the send button...until reality sets in with the dreaded email in the inbox...the attempt at personalization, but you know it's a standard response...and these are the thoughts that keep me up, tossing and turning, in the deep greys of early morning...the only sound i hear is my heartbeat...accelerating in the self-induced anxiety of a writer who still believes in the power of print over i-pad...who still is in awe of all the undiscovered dreamers hitting that send button...but now its 3am...maybe it's time to push these thoughts off the cliff into that bermuda triangle...i think i'll try listening to the music in my head...it's easier to sail to sleep with robin thicke's falsetto in the background...and imagining those baby blues...

if i were an oscar meyer weiner, everyone would be in love with me....

or everything old is new again...for once, i do not envy those that live within new york city's borders...to say that truth is stranger than fiction is the greatest understatement in new york city politics...i stand corrected...new york state politics...the return of spitzer...the return of the madam...kristen davis...not the lightweight actress of "sex and the city" fame...no, the piece of work that says she is a feminist...setting the feminist movement back to the stone age...says she's running against him...who is really running these days...certainly not the voters to the polls...then weiner...i won't even blog the billion jokes, puns, one-liners...because bloomberg is leaving the city in quite a mess...and because the voters actually would have chosen weiner against all his opponents...until he latest mea culpa...no, this mayoral race is not a joke...just ask detroit...oh, and being in nassau county is not exactly a political laughfest either...let's see...for county executive you have the current, mangano, running against the former, suozzi...neither has been able to get a grasp on a county being swept away in a fiscal cesspool...but they will spend lots of money...make lots of photo ops...and the sandy-weary voters will shrug and pull the lever...and let us not forget the man who would be king...peter king...abrasive...doesn't play well with others...never will make page six of the post...nah, this king will never text a photo of the crown jewels...yawn...snooze...no scandal...you lose