spring ahead...fall back...

i am the hamster on the wheel...as hard as i try to "spring ahead" it would seem the cards intend to have me "fall back"...for now...and so even as we delight in the extended warmth of almost mid-autumn...i feel the chill and seem the paralyzed poet, unable to write even the most banal of poems..."you're only as happy as your least happy child"...this filters through my remaining brain cells...that would be lauren, my only, who is suffering as we try to diagnose unremitting nausea and pain...days stretching to a week..then two...and so i am not so happy...they say timing is everything (yes, this is a blog post riddled with cliches)...starting a new job, albeit part-time, just as this crisis reared it's nasty head...sprinkle this with some manuscript and contest rejections...then the look on the clinique saleswoman's face as she tried to find a product that would cover the black circles under my eyes (this with a 35th high school reunion days away)...and there you have it...hamster on the wheel...running forward, falling back...hoping to jump, land and cut loose before the leaves fall...

auntie emmy...auntie emmy...

So...the morning after the emmys...and i can honestly say...ugh...a snoozefest...there were some funny moments on both the red carpet and show...all i am sure unintentional...jon hamm on the red carpet...i am sure we will read about in some gossip column, or see on any given entertainment show the reason for the beard...but as he sauntered down the carpet i thought...he looked like he was ready to conduct a los angeles kabbalah service...then the awkward interview moments when ryan seacrest shoves one waif on stilts down the steps for another being shoved up the steps...the exception being the lovefest between claire danes and lena dunham which distracted me for 30 seconds from the incredibly hideous dress lena wore and the fact that claire looked like she just came out of auschwitz...then the show started...merritt weaver, i am sorry i do not know who you are because with 1 billion shows on tv and netflix i have n0t seen "nurse jackie" but i would like to know what you were taking because it might help with some shoulder pain i've been having...julia louis dreyfus...yes, we get it you are the perennial emmy darling and that you could star in an abc family remake of "eight is enough" and win, but humility goes a long way...the obviously rehearsed acceptance speech shtick was not endearing...melissa leo...what circus trunk did you raid for the outfit, or maybe you were confused and thought it was a broadway open call for patina miller's future replacement in "pippin"...then the endless breaks to remember those that passed this year...instead of one "dead" montage, the producers this year decided to take any entertainment value that neil patrick harris had generated, and then level that by sticking in several painful tributes...this leaving the telecast d.o.a.....and as i waited, in vain, for the show to come to life i thought that maybe instead i should have driven to the multiplex for a dose of "the wizard of oz"...now in 3D...hmmm...maybe neil patrick harris should have made a stop at the wizard's...cause this emmy really needed some courage, brains...and most importantly...a heart!

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

into the great wide open...

the last days of july...the sun already setting a bit earlier...and as i emerge from the easy-bake oven that was the last few weeks i feel restless...trying to kickstart my creative juices...submitting a new manuscript to small poetry presses...hoping to avoid the self-publish route this time...deadlines...editing...all the while trying to keep writing...realizing i have been slacking...then forgiving myself...summer was meant for slacking...leave the angst for a biting cold january night...i am typing away next to my blogging companion...my 11-year-old tabby, donut...it's been a rough road for donut since his diagnosis of diabetes in march...he's looking a little weary and i am looking a little sleep-deprived...and yet, there he is next to me, purring away...not a care in the world...sometimes i think about driving down an endless road...the wind in my hair, the ocean to one side and pastel dunes to the other...and donut, my indoor kitty, next to me, not in a carrier...just sitting with the soft breeze all around...that little curve of a feline smile from the side...tom petty on the radio...all our worries a blur in the rear mirror...into the great wide open under them skies of blue...

ramble on....

and so as this endless heatwave plods on i find my mind skipping aimlessly...first, the heart and jason bonham experience concert about 10 days ago at jones beach...incredible show...ann and nancy wilson giving me hope that creativity does not peak before fifty..."stairway to heaven" in the rain...sublime...but like all concerts it did attract its share of weird...like before the show when we were sitting by the concession stands next to another couple...some man, stoned beyond all comprehension, asked us where the train was...the other couple tactfully told him we were just about on the water and there was no train...he said he had no car or way back so we suggested he see security...and when he walked away the couple turned to us and said "uh, how did he get here?"...then towards the end of the concert when two morons moved down behind us and proceeded to talk loudly and yell...where is that random lightning strike when you need it?...flash forward...this weekend an overnight in the city...first, a visit to the museum of modern art - for art and air-conditioning...decided to see it bottom to top...tried to have an open mind...white canvas...installation of jars...snow shovel suspended from the ceiling...woody allen was whispering in my ear, "was it heavy? did it achieve total heaviosity?"...aching for the uptown metropolitan museum of art...until the 5th floor...and there it was van gogh's "the starry night"...and all was okay with the world...later the old music box theater and "pippin"...almost 40 years since i saw the original production...and then all was glorious in the world...smiling as i sauntered into the five billion degree steambath that was times square at 11pm...navigating through the sea of humanity...and strollers...and so many languages...a warped "it's a small world" and i secretly wished for the old times square...before it was disneyfied and all...the old sordid times square in its 11pm saturday night stroller-less glory...next rooftop drinks...a warm breeze, music thumping, laughter...the guy next to us with his date, an obvious escort leaned in and above the roar i heard, "what do you think of tom cruise?"...oh, yeah...gotta love it...ramble on