Paws, and reflect...

it would be the ultimate sin of a writer searching for greatness...to sprinkle cliches into a piece...but such is the sin of grief, and I sprinkle this freely...my cat, Donut, passed away yesterday...he was 15, would have been 16 this May...and he was adopted at the age of 5 months from a shelter...and so goes the expression we attribute to all rescue pets...did we rescue Donut, or did he rescue us?...I do remember vividly how painfully nervous he was when we brought him home...until I set the table for dinner that first night, and without hesitation, he hopped onto our fourth chair...so, this was the way it's going to be, I thought inside...much like a story Lauren wrote in elementary school...Donut was our "human cat"...as we poured over old photos last night, I had to smile...remembering the antics of kittenhood...and one episode in particular...an episode of "Friends" on our television...Joey and Chandler at the foosball table...Donut's emerald eyes zeroing in...and the high jump against the screen, paws attacking that foosball table in earnest...ironically, repeats of "Friends" late at night would be his joy, burrowing into his blanket on Lauren's bed...a strange affection for Matt LeBlanc's voice...which prompted us to call him at 11pm..."Donut, the Joey show is on"...he endured so many health issues...which has prompted me to attribute 99 lives to his story...and when it seemed his time on the 16th...he defied all odds and was home the next day...allowing us another week with our furry boy...part of me will always think he did this for us...struggled so hard to repay the love we showered on him all those years...I don't know how I feel about this "Rainbow Bridge"...but I'll tell you what I do know...when my Donut passed to a better place...and saw all those beautiful cats and dogs and other pets...he probably said, "no way"...and detoured through another door...where he would be welcomed by my Dad, who never got to meet him...my Dad would say, "Donut, that wasn't very nice of you to scratch your Grandma like that!"...and Donut would smile, and tilt his head and stare back...and Dad's frown would turn upwards...a warm smile...then he'd pet Donut's head and say..."We've got some catching up to do...but first...a tuna sandwich"...

Guns and roses...

World Trade Center, 1993...Oklahoma City, 1995...Columbine, 1999...9/11 2001...Sandy Hook, 2012...and last week, Parkland...Valentine's Day...Ash Wednesday...literally, ashes to ashes...this blog is not a line in the sand...that has been drawn most eloquently by hollow-eyed teenagers bloodily thrust into adulthood in Florida last week...this blog is more a reflection and genuine pause in despair...how does this country overcome our collective PTSD inflicted by tragedy after tragedy?...because all responses...the ones I carry deep in my heart on one side...and the ones I often cannot fathom on the other...are both generated by a deep sense of fear and rage and hopelessness...for every technological advance since that first WTC attack, we have regressed as a people...technological advances have slowly but surely erased genuine human interaction...so, we use generalized terms...our mission du jour is to eradicate bullying...you do realize as each of you reads this...perhaps from my Facebook post...that for all of you with children in school, or who have graduated out...while some of you may have witnessed the cruelty of bullying in the new social media age...your children, or relatives...some of you have also been parents to the bully...it's statistics...I've watched school districts pat themselves on the back for their bullying programs and assemblies...yet, I know how they mishandled and backed off from putting teeth into platitudes for years...we do not really appreciate, nor do we want to, the deteriorating mental health of our youth...we do not understand the depth of hurt to be hung out to dry on social media platforms...we can't if we did not grow up with it...if we are not part of generation "thunder thumb"...but we do despair of it...so how do we move forward?....disarming the dangerous is a no-brainer...at least in my brain...I don't want to take away your gun...but current laws and restrictions are not working and it's time for Washington to roll up it's shirt sleeves and work quickly...and then...and then...Parkland...we really need to look how this young man got so far-gone...how each arm of the adult community failed him...this is painful...this is not easy...it's time to put the phones down a little...to realize that the most perfect rose has thorns...and get to work...

one flu over the cuckoo's nest...

but February made me shiver...no, it really made me shiver...last week, Michael called me from work and said, casually, between the "hold on" and "what's for dinner?", that his throat hurt...I thought...hmmm...when he came through the door, I thought somewhere deep inside...oh, shit...dry cough, fever...next day he went to the doctor...came home and said the ugliest word in the English language...flu...he was banned to the bedroom...I ran around with Lysol, wipes, and did laundry like a crazy person...but two days later, coughing like Mimi in "La Boheme" I made a pilgrimage to the Urgent Care...bronchitis...within days Lauren was down for the count...my life has consisted of doling out meds...which are hard to come by...every pharmacy is out or running low...I've noticed a little panic in the eyes of pharmacists...flu...it seems to be the only story on the news...which is what I've been told...I haven't made the eleven o'clock news in days...too tired to stay awake or give a shit...too depressing...all these meds make for restless sleep...and crazy dreams...like I swear that I heard about 45 asking for parades...and tanks...and adoration...and I drifted back to sleep...where I see money being tossed out of windows...windows of a very big white house...I think the street address is Pennsylvania-something...but the money never reaches the ground...where there are many homeless men...veterans...but back at the windows everyone is eating Napoleons...and the music is blaring...it is catchy...very Broadway...this should be a hit, I think...Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane are crooning me to sleep in top hats and tux...ah yes, "Springtime for Hitler"...but, it's all a medicinal dream, right?...gotta go read those Tamiflu side effects again...

Learning to fly...

it's another cold January day...it is raining...no, it is snowing...not quite...it is snaining...and I am in the JetBlue terminal at JFK bound for the second Holy Land...Florida...despite the weather, it would seem we are leaving on time....but as I look around the gate I see many children...more children than I have ever seen on one flight...this is after flying south so many Christmas breaks...February nightmares...Passover kill-me's...I can't figure it out...but I am realizing that these are Orthodox families...it must be a break week for their religious schools...oh...I try to be nice...these are my people, I think...until the level of "geschreing" reaches levels that are making dogs howl in Cleveland...and I start to panic...how long is this flight?...how many minutes?...but I think...well, I'll put on the headset and watch a stupid movie and poof...we'll be landing...I look at my watch...we will be boarding soon...that should take about 5 hours with the strollers, and car seats...and, then I see the weather looks worse...and a man is davening at the window...it is morning prayers or does he think we are going to crash or is he praying his kids pass out after take-off?...oy, can it be tomorrow, I think...we finally board...our plane needs deicing...half the plane needs Children's Tylenol...the other half straight up martinis...we finally take off...the volume is not working on my tv...neither is Mike's...the poor woman to my right has a message for three hours that her screen is rebooting...I can't fall asleep...and half-way through, thanks to the delay...I have to crawl over the humanity to the bathroom...over mothers with many screaming kids...and attendants passing out salty snacks that make everyone drink more and have to pee...and omg...this is like my worst nightmare and favorite musical all in one morning...I am flying the friendly skies of Air Anatevka...I thought that was Fruma Sarah with the extra legroom!...and now, enjoying our visit in frigid temps for Florida...I wonder about our flight home...praying for a headset that works...calm  skies...a safe flight...right?...of course right!!!!

Back to Black

2018...and we're out of the gate...and heading deep into awards season...from #metoo to #timesup...2017 is still burning in the rearview mirror...and so, with award show #1, we swam in a sea of black...familiar faces side by side with those who should be familiar...the women in the trenches far from the paparazzi of Beverly Hills...these women had a lot to say...but for the most part the "E" idiots gave them 20 seconds before cutting to celebrities who were not nominated, and really just on the very fringe of the film industry...sometimes I felt the urge to shout "yes" in solidarity...but then sighed at the prospect that the message may have been lost...this wasn't funeral black...or interview black...or camouflage the extra 10 pounds black...it was Armani Prive...and Christian Siriano...and drop dead jewelry...and the weeks of not eating prior to the notice to toss the emerald for black still showed in the size -20 pantsuits...the sexual assault issue in Hollywood is real...and raw...and ugly...Oprah got me off my seat...after a year of starving for the beauty in language...and powerful speech writing...there was a glimmer...but really, it was Natalie Portman who summed up the "Golden" bullshit with one line...presenting best director..."And here are the all-male nominees"...this is the essence of the fault in the bigger picture...and all harassment...the lack of equal representation in management...without it...without a clear and safe and legal harbor for reporting...the risk of job loss for whistle-blowing is all too real...and we are never going to move forward...instead of harnessing this golden opportunity...with a chance for change...we will just go back to black

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...