I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike....

oh, Lord, Freddie Mercury...you have no idea, rest your soul...but these days...Manhattan...midafternoon...well, I don't want my obituary to start with, "death by wheels and wontons"...I understand the healthy aspect...the speed of getting around...the environmental benefit...but every time I go to cross a street...reaching my toes off the curb...I say a silent prayer...to many gods...all really...who is the patron saint of city walkers?...now we add to the old mix of delivery people - goods and food...newbies on Citi bikes...who disregard all rules of the road...whee - look at me...no helmet...look at my hair blowing in the wind...blocking my vision!...watch me sail through the red lights...against the traffic...flying through corner after corner...the taxi drivers are even shaking their heads...so here's a thought, Mayor Dumblasio...new rules...every bike has a license...number prominent on the back...every bike rider must have a helmet...I wear a seat belt...you, mister beat up Schwinn...you wear a helmet...you can only ride in the bike lanes, same direction as cars...you stop at red lights...employ the homeless...arm them with cell phones...let them take pictures of violators as best they can...hey, it's all a dream I know...but it's the thoughts that ruminate as I attempt to cross 6th Avenue, lunch in hand...heart in mouth...the wheels missing me by a foot...the aroma of wonton soup threatening...

a pox be on your house

no, I don't mean your house...I mean the House...Congressmen, Congresswomen, Senators...and all in between...handwritten notes!...spilling off the margins...I mean with all the taxes I've paid, you think a decent copier machine, right?...but seriously...I'm feeling the weight of all the years I've been on this earth...the weight of watching the bullshit repeat over and over...Republicans...and yes, Democrats..."he started it"...now, stick your tongue out...or your middle finger...then pat yourself on the back...and stick it to the middle class...the new middle class...perpetually paying up...paying down...till we are in the grave...and we are railing against the machine...one of our own making...for the dwindling handful of elected officials who do work hard for constituents...well, I'm sorry for you...for trying for the most part to do what you were sent to do...the hell with party lines, you cried in earnest...and then hit the wall...not 45's invisible wall...but the payoff wall built buy the uber billionaires, special interest groups... and for those elected officials who have grown tired...or jaded...just get the hell out...cause Lord knows your exit packages would keep me grinning like the village idiot...for the rest...those smiling like Satan...cough, cough...I mean Ryan...or smirking over a turkey neck...ahem, McConnell...and even McCain (retire and spend what you have left with family, you earned it)....have fun this Christmas recess...and when you go to your house of worship...do a little soul searching...I mean really searching...see if it's even there...because I'm contacting the real House....Dr. House...to try and cure this fatal disease...pox Americanus...before the patient flatlines as Ray Charles sings over the corpse...

c'mon, get happy!

by the time you read this, David Cassidy may be dead...or clinging to life...or playing at the Paramount...I give up...after another, what I dub, "Tom Petty twit fest"...it's hard to know what the truth is...but in this case...he actually is gravely ill...a teen idol...my teen idol...facing his final curtain...recent disclosures of dementia following all those years of the hard knocks bestowed on our fallen idols...and it is sad...the news was a hit to that younger me buried deep...and I think about all this while pushing the shopping cart past turkeys, and pumpkin pies...Thanksgiving calls...and I just think sometimes that 2018 cannot come fast enough...the storms...the shootings...musicians passing...the tweet storm raining on us every day...makes me want to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV on Thanksgiving morning...watch the parade...the floats...the balloons...the kids smiling in delight...the Rockettes...even Santa...just let it wash over me like it did...in black and white...so many decades ago...back then when the parade was over...I'd put on tights and my patent leather mary janes...slip on a dress...adjust my barrettes...and greet the day with a smile...this year I'm digging deep...gonna wade through the gloomy waters...and smile in thanks...Happy Turkey day, all...and Mr. Cassidy...wishing you a gentle journey...

revenge of the nebbish...

nebbish...like most words it loses so much of its essence in translation...actually,  I think all Yiddish words lose 95% of their "flavor" in translation...and so you have a nebbish..."a pitifully ineffectual, luckless, and timid person"...Saturday night I winced watching SNL host Larry David draw a somewhat painful common thread amongst several of those high profile men accused of sexual assault and intimidation...that being religion...Jewish...and for Larry David...a man I usually find quite funny...I kept thinking no, no, no you're missing the point...(let's not even discuss the concentration camp shtick)...the common thread...and this extends to Spacey and other gentiles in this group as well...is what I call the "nebbish factor"...the men you walked past in life...those who sat awkwardly invisible at the end of bars...who you ignored, or worse, bullied in school...ah, what power and money can do...Weinstein, Spitzer, Spacey....the list grows...years of them very visibly in the media...successful politician or actor or creative force or money-maker...all masking lurid behavior silenced with that power...many women, and men, who have been perusing the tabloids of late have been silently nodding in agreement...perhaps remembering being on the receiving end of very unwanted advances from bosses and other figures who dictated their business advancement or paycheck...or maybe you cannot understand why it took people so long to speak up...if so, you are either lucky enough to have never been on the receiving end of sexual harrassment or worse...or you are forgetting that the evolution of a safe and balanced work environment is the perpetual one step forward, two steps back...because all I can think of as this happens is that ugly memory of a vice president of my department in the 80's...at a very well-respected cable network.... introducing him to my husband, my fiance at the time...and him glaring...a very polished, impeccably dressed nebbish, joking how we must be glad that my yeast infection cleared up...and we stood stunned...what to say?...oh, I know some of you reading this are laughing...thinking, it was only a joke...well, it never is a joke if the one telling it could destroy your future career in the time it took for a witty response...and it is nothing new...the casting couch was never a sale item at Sears...but if we want to move forward then we can't lose sight of the work we should be doing...let's not go down a rabbit hole of floundering punishment (because who is Netflix punishing if everyone at "House of Cards" loses their jobs?)...try the crimes in a court of law...make sure company policies have real teeth...and really treat the disease at the root...your sons are not all princes...your daughters should never trade their souls for the crown...

we skipped the light fandango...

this morning I turned on the news...for which I, at first, sighed with relief...yes, we had power!!!...and then it was Mueller Monday...a little more than 9 months of 45's term and I am freakin' exhausted...it is relentless...turn off the media and then there's Mother Nature...pissed as all hell...and those musicians...those who would sing me to sleep...or croon to me in my car, literally keeping me from going insane driving on Long Island...well, they are all leaving for that great wide open...and now it is just about Halloween...and there is no movie, costume or creature that is scarier than Kim Jong Un and that haircut, and his sadistic rhetoric to match...and so I find myself digging in a bit...getting ready, like the proverbial bear, for hibernation...but that Procol Harum lyric has become an earworm..."we skipped the light fandango"...and I ponder the meaning...but realize how incredibly stoned the writer was and laugh...yep, laugh...cause whatever the hell it means, I know that as the DC fan spews shit on all of us for the next few months of Mueller Morsels...I know I want to skip that light fandango...do cartwheels across the floor...and I laugh once more till I see this week's Rolling Stone cover smiling at me from the coffee table...Tom Petty and those baby blues, and mocking grin...and those tears well up inside...trick or treat...as winter beckons...

Travels with my aunt...

I put on my lipstick...and there are tears...”you have to wear lips”...my late, dear Aunt Harriet’s voice in my head...memories flood my heart...my yearly summer visit...a week at Lake Carmel with my beloved cousin, Jennifer, and aunt and uncle...the daily adventures...the late afternoon chase in the car after that Good Humor truck...giggles way into the night...then, paintings at the MET...oh, yes...Harriet and art...paintings throughout her home...her beautiful oils of ballet, bullfights, portraits...then I am 15...and she takes me to my first ballet...Nureyev!...the music, the lights...the climbing in to our seats after the light are out...always late!...and all those wonderful, spirited discussions...with bagels...with chocolate...around tables...in my grandparent's house...in Vermont...in Florida...and of course, Montauk...she was so intelligent...the best sparring partner...she was one of the strongest people I ever knew...I do not know how she kept going when life hit her so hard...maybe, it was for the pure joy her grandchildren would give her...and for the love and life lesson she would give them...now if I pause...I can hear them all laughing and yelling around that table...Harriet...my dad...Sharyn...my dear Uncle "Boss" (Godfrey) and her beloved Nicole...all those giggles tossing the waves of Montauk...rest in peace and love...

heart of darkness...

I read the news today, oh boy...here we go again...you know how it goes...you turn on your phone...or the tv...and today's disaster du jour greets you...I'm beginning to hate my phone...and this new tragedy demands a response...in  a twitter second...sadly, we are a numb society...we try to put back pieces in rote movement...we hang on to our own sanity by very frayed threads...but this morning...my mind raced and kept going back to the same thought...how could one person be so evil...was he always like this...how did it remain so invisible to those around him...or was it there, underneath, too ugly and terrifying to confront...I truly believe that when we climb out of this cesspool of despair in Vegas...that it is imperative that we focus on the heroism of every day men and women...do not glorify evil but elevate the good...and when this becomes another horrible footnote in our new narrative...maybe it's time to examine...to carefully and quietly examine the heart of darkness of twenty-first century mankind...after all...if we do not find the root of this disease we surely cannot survive...and I want our survival to be that film that leaves me crying tears of hope...not some over-budget, bloated disaster burning a hole in my pocket and leaving me empty...and now as I prepare for a cavalcade of faces...those lost in an early October night raining bullets...I say for all of us...rest easy, the faithful departed...and viva Las Vegas...

behind the curtain...

I hope there is never a "Hurricane Sherri"...I mean many of you reading this may have already had your name associated with horrible storms...days of destruction and endless news coverage...but it could always be worse...imagine dealing with a name like David Berkowitz or Charles Manson...you get it...and this is really not the focus of the blog...but anyone over 50 reading this knows what focus is like for those this age, especially early morning...and it is always early morning because we don't sleep...and this morning...facing a New Year...days of awe,...thankfully, once again...my mind is all over the place...but today there was this image...a memory of me as a young girl in the 60's...Brooklyn...watching my father praying with other men from our neighborhood...upstairs...behind a curtain...removed...at a distance...both beautiful and perplexing...religion has reluctantly, and not always successfully, reflected strides women have made in society...for those following ancient paths, not bending to be inclusive...religion is as it was...a higher calling...women just hearing it through a filter written by men...in the early 70's...when embarking on a path to becoming a bat mitzvah...I stopped...a response in two parts...one, to wanting my faith invisible as a response to cruel anti-Semitism from children parroting what they probably heard at dinner tables...and two, deciding that for all my studying and effort...would I be viewed as equal to my brother, or any young man, as I approached the bimah?..it was the emotional logic of an eleven year old...it was a conclusion in rapidly changing, and confusing times...I have long since reconciled those feelings...perhaps with a sigh of regret when I watched my daughter become a bat mitzvah...but the pact I made with my G-d, years ago, does not permit judgement of the "what if's" but only love of what I try to do with my heart each year...and so, when I peel back that curtain this year...my silent wish will always be for the sweetness of that honey dripping in my tea...on this Rosh Hashanah, 5778

houston, we have a problem...

I once wrote a poem...after the terrible tsunami in Japan...it was about water...the power it possesses and the devastation it unleashes with too much...or none at all...think about it...before the frail egos and weapons of mass destruction...what did it...no, actually what does it really still boil down to?...land and water...just ask the women and children dying daily in countries we cannot even pinpoint on a map...the middle east...even Syria with that tempting port...it is hard to watch the news these days...Harvey's story is not over as I write this...and September starts tomorrow...we are heading into deep hurricane territory...already behind the shouts of Harvey is the whisper of Irma...and many more names...we scramble to help our fellow citizens...and because it is too much...we carefully avoid the evening news...or should I say world news...that sliver of a half hour that airs after the local news and relentless tales of train delays, child abuse and political corruption...that half hour that shows human misery in India, Nepal and Bangladesh...1,200 lost here...so many more to come...relentless flooding no end in sight...makes me think of that brilliant documentary title following Katrina...trouble the water...here's praying for all those in Texas, Louisiana and around the globe...and if praying is not your thing...just ask Mother Nature when you seek that quiet moment...ask her to cry somewhere else next week...like maybe over the barren lands of Africa...oh, but first...drown the warlords...amen

gentle on my mind...

1968...the year starts with the TET offensive at the end of January...MLK assassinated April 4...RFK, June 6...the Chicago Convention Riot August 28...and Glen Campbell's voice soothed us on the radio with the release of Jimmy Webb's beautiful "Wichita Lineman" in October...I was only 8 then...probably didn't quite get the lyrics...but I had no doubt that every word was measured and heartfelt...such was Campbell's delivery...music is so often the backdrop of our lives...we hear a song and we are instantly transported to another place or time in our lives...sometimes bittersweet, melancholic...other times pure joy...there were many other hit songs from Campbell...many marriages...a scandalous for the time affair with Tanya Tucker...many children...awards and accolades...but his denouement...tragic and a reminder that the playing field is level in life...disease knows no class and no one is exempt...so rest easy, rhinestone cowboy...rest in the knowledge that your music brought a smile or sigh to so many...and as we avoid the news these days...anxious over egos and trigger-happy fingers, I wonder...are Bieber and Daddy Yankee going to croon me to sleep?...oh, Glen Campbell, yes, we're gonna miss you...

the unicorn always rings twice....

this past May, at my annual, my gyno told me I was in the 1%...at 57...if you're not sure what he meant, let's just say that yes, for a few days a month I still could probably get away with most homicides with a predominantly female jury, sprinkled with some terrified males...as he said it to me...1%...I thought to myself, you had to be an over-achieving shit at this?!?...but then when I listed some new complaints his smile disappeared...a few weeks and many tests later and there I was in surgery friday...the secret of a somewhat youthful glow erased instantly...which begs the question...what really does it mean to be a woman?..why is age not revered in our society?..who sets the bar and determines our worth?..and ultimately, had the true essence of who I am been wiped from the slate?...now, granted, up until Friday, I really had a long crazy ride well into my fifties...and actually I've been walking a tightrope of the before and after for endless months...but today, as I write this...as I stare at the computer screen waiting for divine inspiration...occasionally fingers flying on those keys, avoiding the matter at hand...I contemplate the road ahead...and while always hoping for the best...praying for the strength for all else...I think this journey of womanhood is really a helluva roller coaster ride...it's a one ticket deal with no second chances...and so I'll continue on...ascend that next hill...eyes open...arms up in the air...yes, even with that, ahem, arm jiggle...screaming, laughing, stomach through the floor...the bracing wind of life through my hair...writing the next chapter...then probably forgetting it the next minute...but mostly, hoping to see you all with me...strapped in beside me...coasting those hills, off to the horizon...

achtung, baby

when I was a little girl, I loved going to see my Dad at work...he was a salesman in a high-end men's retail establishment...everything seemed so big and vast and when I would spot my Dad it was evident to me he was the most important man there...all his co-workers would shake my hand and I can still smell the fresh fabric on display...flash forward and I am 25 starting a new job and as fate would have it, I will be working in the same building as Dad...and so, when I could, I took a mid-afternoon break, forfeiting the traditional lunch hour, and met Dad for bagels and coffee at a hole in the wall next door...Dad never took a lunch hour as that is when his customers came to see him...and I am sure many of you reading this can relate...your dads were factory workers, lawyers, teachers, policemen, firemen, and maybe doctors...but, in the sweet recess of these memories, do you every recall your dad turning to you, saying, "hold this scalpel, dental drill, police revolver, or fire hose"??? Such, it seems to be with Ivanka Trump. Let's get some facts clear. Almost 50% of you didn't bother to vote, so sorry, you really need to sit on the sidelines for the next 3 1/2 years and shut the hell up. And for the rest, I don't care who you voted for really, our election process concluded that Trump is President...if he can't fulfill his duties, the runner-up Pence steps in, and Lord help us, after than Paul Ryan. So Ivanka...well, your dad is not a monarch, in which case, traditionally, the next male would step in, you know Junior...then Eric...Barron...or in some cases, the queen, and finally you, the princess...I don't recall your name on the ballot...anyone else?...these are violent times...the summit in Germany takes on weight as never seen before...please, Speaker Ryan...the learning curve was over when that hand was on the Bible...maybe Constitutional Crib Notes?...Democracy for Dummies?...Ivanka, you said you were not interested in politics...concentrate on the new fall line...and remember the sleeves....

Ah, the summer wind

To the tune of "Summer Nights" from Grease...

Summer city, days of steam heat

Summer city, the crowds are a treat

See the street packed as can be,

See the curb, a fresh pond of pee

Summer days, blazing away

to ah-oh those summer plights

Tell me more, tell me more

Did your train run today?

Tell me more, tell me more

No, just ask Amtrak or the MTA

Port Authority, on line to pee

Someone barks, it's NYPD

Fists are pounding on the next stall

Yells of Bellevue, the thrill of it all

Summer sun, oh ain't it fun

then ah-oh those summer plights

Tell me more, tell me more

Did your subway derail?

Tell me more, tell me more

No, it just moved like a snail

Took a ferry to take in the view

It missed the dock, I lost a shoe

Tried a bus but the AC just died

Got off later, schvitzing and fried

Summer city can be so pretty

but ah-oh those summer plights

Tell me more, tell me more

Did you make it to work?

Tell me more, tell me more

Yeah, but late my Uber driver's a jerk

Some guy is friendly waving his hand

Starts screaming the world is ending, we're damned

No one notices they're glued to their phones

Penn is closed, everyone groans

Summer city, life  can be gritty

but oh-ah those summer plights

Tell me more, tell me more

is the tunnel backed up?

Tell me more, tell me more

if you ask you're a schmuck

People wonder, when will this end

Cars are crawling from end to end

Then they make a sacred vow

Next year in Florida, if budgets allow

Summer city, love it, ain't it a pity

but oh, those summer plights

everybody hurts

a kinda rainy Sunday...watching One Love Manchester...and I officially have become uncomfortably numb...I am recalling all the benefit music concerts...the early ones...Concert for Bangladesh...Live Aid...Farm Aid...their creation...the need for donations in essence boiled down to monetary inequality...and water...or lack thereof...the music was great...I blindly accepted that if I pledged a few bucks it might feed starving children and help the down and out get on their feet...but then a new century bloomed...and the music benefit concerts...now the songs in the night were under a sky dripping with blood and senseless, incomprehensible death...and I wanted to believe...I wanted to think there is healing in collectively beating back evil...and, today, well I don't want to be a cynic...but as I watch these young singers and hear the haunting in their voices...I wonder if there really is a band aid big enough to cover this wound...the one that starts to heal and bursts open every time news reporters rouse our consciousness with a weary declaration of "breaking news"...we are so tired...we ache to dream...but cannot sleep...and, me....well, I daydream of innocent youth...want to go back...turn off the drum, the song, the cries for love and peace...go back to blissful ignorance so many years ago...ah, no sleep till Brooklyn...

and whispered in the sounds of silence...

memorial day...a day, that sadly, has become another footnote in our yearly sport of shopping...searching for bargains for things we don't need...the unofficial start of summer...this year, so many bundled on beaches under threatening skies and misty rain...but in our increasingly violent and heartless world...maybe it is time to remember what the day is about...men and women who fought for our country...in wars of unfortunate necessity...in wars of mistaken judgement...where the ordinary man fought in dire, extraordinary circumstances...and returned to a country that was turned upside down...many of you may read this and will remember the wars of your youth...and shake your head in anger with the realization that each generation seems to have a turn...so before those younger...for whom the word draft is only a beer...those who, in their fear and anger, chant "fight them, kill them, obliterate them"...let's put aside politics and  show them...stroll the endless rows at Pinelawn...Calverton...and in cemeteries across this vast country, and every corner of the globe...and just pause...and take in the cost...the loss...say thank you...whisper I ache for your suffering...and on memorial day, remember the eloquent lyrics, "find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground, mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down"...and bow, and say amen...

oh, rumania, rumania....

may 10th...my grandfather, Louis, would have been 113 today, my grandmother, Bella, 107...same birthday...grew up in the same village...in the same country, what was Roumania...now, possibly Moldova...but they met here...in New York...I often think of them, and on this date especially...memories, so strong...Friday nights...if I close my eyes, I am in their apartment...and because they lived in the same building as Bella's sister, Ida...well, you never knew who would show up...all of us crammed into that kitchen...a piece of mandel bread, a cup of coffee, or glass of milk...laughter pouring onto Kings Highway...and oh my "Poppy"...driving my "Nanny" crazy...his fist knocking under the table...Nanny going to the door...no one there...that glare and then, hands on hips, "Mister"...he would giggle...she would smile...then Passover...tables of relatives, angled every which way...cousins running up and down the hallway...the joy in watching my Poppy sing with his brothers-in-law...my Nanny, yelling "sha"...we would stop in our tracks...and start up again the minute she turned around...years later, they stayed with us in Staten Island...watching me and my brother, David, while my parents vacationed...Nanny cooking up a storm, Poppy listening to the radio, our cat, Blackie, stretched out in delight at their feet...my good fortune to have them with me at high school graduation...to celebrate college graduation...to have my Nanny walk down the aisle at my wedding...to give birth to my daughter, Lauren, six years later to the date my Poppy passed...and then to give her his name...and, oh, so much more...because on this date...as I remember...I am no longer someone on the other side of fifty...I am a young girl once more...delighting in the love and wonder of her grandparents...the traditions which were as simple as breathing...the Yiddish I strained to comprehend...which always reminds me of that album my Dad would play..."Sing Along in Yiddish"...ah yes, "Rumania, Rumania"...the blessings of memory carry you forward...Happy Birthday, Bella and Louis! 

stop making sense

yesterday...a lovely afternoon with my cousin, Nadine...lunch and then "War Paint"...a new musical, and dueling diva throw down...Patti Lupone and Christine Ebersole showing the young Broadway ingenues how it's done...and then I read of the passing of Jonathan Demme...a pause...long pause...although in this life during wartime (Mr. Byrne) a pause is all we can afford...my brain is on overload these days...and not just for the minutia...and not so minutia...that is my life...but for the relentless affront that is this world...and so I pushed this news to the back...and let the true magic that is live theater drown me...I watched a story about amazing trailblazers...Helena Rubenstein and Elizabeth Arden...their incredible achievements diminished by views of a woman's place...I sighed...has it changed?...my inner thoughts irritated by a group of women...their places...the seats behind us...a large group of matinee yentas...talking...debating...discussing...throughout Act I...then Act II...I caught Nadine's eye...we shook our heads...laughing on the way out...that will never be us...but as you are thrust into the daylight, life returns so quickly...the thunderous applause fades...and rush hour traffic roars...as I walked, I remembered the news about Jonathan Demme...documentary visionary...and oh, yes, a film director who did well by the actresses who entrusted him with their careers...Pfeiffer, Foster, Hathaway...these came to mind...but then some guy to my right was steering his pushcart into my right hip...I bolted across West 37th...wearing my war paint...a sigh, thinking about a nice Chianti...rest easy Mr. Demme...

the rack

boobs...knockers...tits...ah, yes...the yearly mammogram...a time of year when as your breasts are poured on that cool plate...then unceremoniously squished for what feels like a lifetime...you have those seconds to think...while on that rack...about your rack...too small...too big...sagging...uneven...and for those brief moments...precious...it is the equalizer, that machine...because for those seconds everyone is the same...each mind awash in memory...of all the women you loved who lost the battle...of dear ones who won...but at a cost...and that silent prayer for yourself...that you don't get that call...you try to read the technician's face...but she carefully avoids your eyes...because if she looked into yours and she knew, then would her eyes betray her...and so you go on about your business...aching chest...and hope the minutia of life keeps you from looking at the phone...hoping that when you log onto a portal...or speak to your doctor...or get that letter...that it is a mundane "see you next year"...another 365 days until you are stretched on the rack...thinking silently...who the fuck invented this machine?...and praying someone comes up with something better...for all the boobs

the secret life of pets...

in the middle of another bout of vet visits for our poor cat, Donut...almost 15 years old...many years of IBD (yes, don't laugh, cats can have this)...3 years of diabetes...and all the illness that comes from both...and despite all of it...he is as regal and beautiful as ever...I find myself searching his eyes lately...looking for guidance...blinking back at him...oh, my little pookie, are you in pain?...these are the ugly times for pet owners...and it got me thinking about all those pets that dotted my life's journey...goldfish...birds...frogs...and then, my first cat, Sonny Boy...sweet with a fearless personality...much loved by our new Staten Island neighbors...then, just two years old...disappeared one summer night...never to be seen again...heartbroken, we sulked for a while...and then cat #2...Blackie...sleek and gorgeous...loving to us...others...eh...a hunter at heart...so many "presents" for my mom neatly placed on our porch...passing away peacefully in his favorite chair a day before his 13th birthday...at the time, I was on my own in Queens and not home to say good bye...the loss was strange in that sense...there was a dog, Lucky...my brother's...with us a short time...there was a kitten that Mike and I adopted early in our marriage...but shelter life left her too traumatized and sadly she was returned...a large fish tank in our foyer came next...two fish, Fred and Bob, lived over ten years!...and then in the fall of 2002, we adopted Donut...5 months old, he was shy...yet, took the fourth seat at our kitchen table the first night...he was with us only four weeks when my Dad suddenly passed away...Donut never left my side...and now as we hope for the best, I will return the favor...at his side...slipping him his favorite foods...hoping for a little divine intervention...and the answer in his eyes...

hope springs eternal

and winter marches on...through purim...this year's special - queen esther in a large down coat looking less regal...more like hodel kvetching to tevye at the anatevka train station...on to the ides on the 15th...post snowstorm...you know...the latest late winter special...with brando screaming in the background of the 24 hour a day coverage...stella!!!!...which for some brought mounds of snow...others...parking lots doubling as skating rinks...and for the truly unfortunate...a snow day home with kids and not enough booze...but, alas, for me...a miserable cold...oh, how i wanted to stab my nose 23 times and breathe again...ay, caesar!...then st. paddy's...people deliriously downing green beer...which really looks like colonoscopy prep...but as i lifted a nice pale ale to my lips...sniffling and sneezing...ugh...no taste...and now...spring beckons this monday...calls you with your winter pallor...and the green you dream of is a coat of leaves for that poor naked tree outside your bedroom window...it whispers behind more snowflakes...and cold rain...and snain...(you know...snow and rain)...and you think as you put on your ugly, heavy boots...yucky colored winter socks with a hole in a toe...no, you, yell...please, mother nature...let winter be done...let me toss these boots out of my window...but only if there is the receiver of nassau county taxes walking below...please...i've got spring fever...and i'm running out of socks...

Pushing the envelope...

it was one for the ages...two icons...the wrong envelope...vanity over putting on those reading glasses...the expected winner...then no, the upset...trick or tweet...someone's head is rolling today...some dreamers in the city of stars are nursing a loss over alfalfa sprouts and sparkling water...but, yes, there was magic in this moonlight...yes, thank that casting director...and praise that script...cheer for chiron, the underdog...bullied and invisible, looking for acceptance in an unforgiving world...cheer for hollywood...taking positive baby steps...acknowledging that there are so many new stories to be told...in different ways, by different people...that diversity should not be just a go-to word to ease the consciences of those who have had easy paths paved with wealth and success...cheer for audiences embracing new directors...new writers...for finding themselves in stories so unlike their own lives...and then again, not...so, as we head into march...and watch new movies this year...plunge into awards season deep in next winter...all i can think of is...one envelope please...and a pair of readers attached...hollywood will always need more than rose colored glasses...

like chocolate for water...

if you eat a chocolate, and no one sees it, do the calories count?...ah, valentine's day...in the dead of winter...a mere six weeks or so since stuffing your face with christmas cookies, chanukah gelt, 5 billion calorie eggnog, and anything that didn't move...and the magazine ads...well, they are crammed with red, hot pink, lingerie ads...store windows too...which you contemplate until you realize that your fat post-holiday ass will only fit if you use your eighth-grade home economics skills and sew two together...this is not kardashian ass...this is i'll go to the gym when I finish binge-watching 500 svu episodes ass...but you figure, hey, I got this...i'll wear that big, camouflage red sweater, and black elastic waistband pants for dinner on valentine's...phew...but then, for extra measure, we had the first real snow yesterday...blizzard on long island (which, as an aside, means the lirr will run again in june)....and so there you are in your sweats and worn slippers...couch, blanket and the tv, while the wind rattles the windows...and an ad comes on for m&m's...and you want chocolate...but you finished off the last of the holiday stuff last night...the only goody in sight is the small, sealed valentine's box on the counter...but, that's not yours...hmmm...could you get the car out, navigate the ice and replace it in time...you look outside...nah...and you start twitching like a junkie...what to do?...what to do?...holy shit, another chocolate ad...your fingers reach for that sealed box...but you stop yourself...turn on the news...the craving leaves you...you're nauseous now...sean spicer screaming about something else...and all i can think of now...the daughter of one of the best men's suit salesmen that lived...oh, lord, spicer...get a freakin' tailor...i chuckle to myself...reach for the box...shhhh...happy valentine's everyone!

who's on first?

this is a hard blog to write...not meant to offend...like it or hate it...unfriend me...but my blog is titled "what do you say, sherri darling"...and this is what i have to say...for all the time i may bitch and moan about the minutia of life and the grander injustices...the truth is as a second generation jew...well, history could have shifted ever so slightly and i am not sure i would be here to blog...i am talking about world war II and our country's rather "late in the game" entry...ever stop and wonder how the anguish and death of pearl harbor ultimately saved an entire people from eradication?...we did survive...scarred and leary...and went back to work, and life...but we became complacent...2017...please don't tell me how proud jews should be that a jewish man...kushner...is in such a high position...if you are italian and reading this would you be so proud if the man in that position...ivanka's husband...was the son of a mafia capo...please don't tell me how much our new president is for us jews...that is too soon to call...i don't care that his daughter converted...i don't want to hear about ivanka, and how her rabbi said it's okay for this and that...would that i had a rabbi on call to pardon a lifetime of shabbat indiscretions...and israel...yes, that is a hot button...intertwined with our faith, our history...but as american jews we seem to carry the burden of being good jews there and here...and here...when over thirty jewish community centers received bomb threats this month...and yes, in staten island, one where so much of my love for theater was cultivated...a response was needed loud and strong...president trump...he is not running anymore...he is there...he courted my vote...then, slapped me with america first at his inaugural...an ugly phrase coined by a movement here in america before pearl harbor...while hitler had marched through europe all the way to england...an isolationist group coined the expression...large and supported by many powerful leaders...and virulent anti-semites...urging america to not become involved...negotiate with hitler...america first...president trump was reminded of the connotation and chose to use it...how should i feel about that?...hey, kushner...be a mensch...sit your father-in-law down...disavow the supremacists...condemn the bomb threats...tomorrow is international holocaust remembrance day...and for a generation disappearing...no longer here to remind us...it is imperative to teach...to reach out...to remember...complacency puts you six feet under...

what's new pussycat?

i marched today up fifth avenue...many of you reading this did as well...some of you marched in smaller towns and big cities across this nation...and globe...and some were in the swell of humanity that descended on dc this morning...and others could not make these marches but we carried you in our hearts...in truth, i should not have had to march today...why, in the twenty-first century should i need to assert rights that should be a given?...why should there be a need to validate my worth against those in power who seek to diminish it.?...and for me it was not a choice...it was a need...i had to go...oh, and if you think today was just about planned parenthood, think again...yes, it was an important component...and this is not the forum for that debate...when the crowd swelled and we paused i looked around...all those people...women...all ages...men...children...the signs...the shirts...the determination...and, yes, the hurt under the pink pussycat hats...it was a glorious january day...i felt that it wasn't random that there was sun and warmth in the dead of winter...someone was looking over us in that blue sky...you know who it was?...i think it was the collective spirit of all those women...and men...who marched decades long ago...for causes that have become the very fabric of who we are as a nation...holding us in safety...urging us on...with eyes on the prize...grab this, mr. president...you poked the tiger...now watch us roar...

silence of the lambs...

i read an interesting statistic...and even if it is slightly off, it is horrifying...only 58% of eligible voters showed up this past november...even if you take away those who may have had legitimate reasons...it is sobering...the lowest voter turnout in 20 years...i can hear some of you...you are saying you just couldn't do it...there was no choice for you...and i can understand...to a degree...but look at the bigger picture...spin the globe..land on sudan...no oil there?...keep spinning...land on syria...death and despair...no way out...maybe you think...well, look at putin...look what he did...now there's a cease fire...true...but the cost...google assad and his human rights record...look at a map of syria...see that place called tartus...what a nice port...a lovely place for the russian navy to set up camp...because while putin and his boots slosh through the blood of children, that's what he sees...think of all those people...dead...what they would have done for a fraction of the rights we casually toss with the garbage...today and this weekend, we celebrate martin luther king...time to get beyond a sale day at macy's or afternoon at the movies...time to look at those who marched...and those who are marching this weekend...next weekend...and who continue to march for the respect of basic human rights and dignity...these are days to respect those who do...and for those who do march, to respect those who do not...the coin is two-sided...and different...but it is still the same coin...and for so many on this earth, we, the united states, are that shining coin...ripe with choice and rights...and so on this january 15th i choose to hold this quote from dr. king close to my heart..."our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter"...