Days of whine and roses....

a heat wave is hours away...humidity returning...my hair will look like i stuck my finger in a socket...and reality tv ate my brain...with all the myriad tv programming available...cable...netflix...streaming...i feel hyponotized by whether kaitlyn will pick nick or shawn...it's this thing lauren and i have...watching "bachelor" or "bachelorette"...a guilty pleasure that doesn't cause you to really think...although you find yourself analyzing for hours...who should be sent home...which contestant is the most certifiable...which couple will last beyond the first commercial break...but mostly it has me wondering about the nature of reality tv...and our obsession with it...i think about the leaders of the pack..."the amazing race"...i thought that was finding the shortest route from penn station to this week's sample sale...or "dancing with the stars"...or is it almost stars...or has-beens...or "we have no place left to go since they cancelled jerry lewis' telethon"..."the real housewives"...of new york...atlanta...los angeles...deer park...oops...well, not yet....and the granddaddy of them all...after next season, they are finally pulling the plug...a mercy killing...on "american idol"...ryan seacrest must be getting his aarp card already...but really...if you want to know why these shows multiply like hangers in your closet...if you can't find justification for the ratings numbers...even if they have been slipping...just put on your local evening news...watch the whole half hour...and then the national news for good measure...you'll be spinning that dial in a heidi klum minute..."america's got talent" anyone?

Grohl...you're my monkey wrench...

the best laid plans...back in november...as i wracked my brain for an anniversary gift for mike...a seemingly perfect one fell in my lap...the foo fighters would be playing their hometown - dc - on july 4th...which is also mike's bday...and mike is a foo's fan!...bam...got the tickets...presented them on our anniversary...when the rest of the tour was announced with one, then two, ny dates i thought maybe i should switch...citi field a little easier than rfk in dc...but mike said, "no, dc will be a fun getaway for my bday"...and then in june grohl fell off the stage on tour...and being older than he probably likes...46...did some good damage to his leg...cancelled the rest of the european tour...but silent on the july 4th concert...i googled daily, called ticketmaster and no one was sure what was going on...we thought of cancelling the hotel...but lo and behold two days before we were going to leave the foo's confirmed...and so we went...and the adventure began...first stop down the turnpike...lunch...burger king...royalty of the grossness of turnpike dining...mike's double cheeseburger was a single...returned...then a triple...was this a sign?...checked into the hotel....nice room...trendy sliding mirrored bathroom door...didn't close...not even close...we looked at each other...so as not to kill a 26-year marriage we switched...we sighed...dinner...mike ordered a seven and seven...the waitress came back eons later and asked again what drink he wanted...she had never heard of a seven and seven...this being dc, not zimbabwe i thought...another sign? hmmm...and then saturday there we were for a day long festival at rfk...let's put it this way...shea in it's last days was the four seasons compared to this shithole...open seating...we got two great seats...well under the overhang...rain was a possibility...this was about 12:15...we had hours to take in the humanity around us...many ages...many july 4th colors...then there were, of course, the few good ones you see at these events...apparently ted kaczynski had a twin...cause he wandered around the whole day...back and forth...aimless...shirtless...practically pantless...jerry garcia's twin was there too...that's jerry, the later years...about 100 pounds heavier...shirtless in gym shorts...a natural appetite suppressant...there were the lines...as always...at the ladies room...by late afternoon...the woman in front of me passed me a roll of toilet paper...everyone was ripping off sheets...she looked at me and said..."it's come to this"...oh, lord...there was an hour and a half storm delay...that was fun as the entire crowd on the field ran for the stands...before the concert resumed it was mud fest as one person after another dove into the gross field...to the cheers from the stands...and there were the requisite obnoxious drunks...of course behind us...one swaying back and forth and yelling...getting louder and louder...knocking into us, as ll cool j took the stage...and then suddenly we felt we were wet...it seemed one got sick on mike...it actually was beer...but no one messes with a fifty-five new york woman...i spun around looked at them and said, "you're fucked now"...got security who talked to them...the drunk moved...an apology from his friends...who still gave him beer all night...but all was right...because through all of this there was the music...incredible music from all across this country...as in the foo's sonic highway...trombone shorty and orleans avenue (you must see them at least once), joan jett  and the blackhearts, gary clark jr...heart (with the amazing ann wilson's voice soaring on "alone")...ll cool j...buddy guy...trouble funk...and finally around 9:20 (!!!) the foo's....when talking with people we all wondered what grohl would do with the leg cast...well...he had a movable throne constructed...that moved down the runway to the crowd...and with his guitar and elevated leg he rocked the stadium for almost two and a half hours...at one point...as he told the tale of the broken leg...he yelled something to the effect that there was no fucking way he would miss this show...which left me thinking...why the fuck didn't you say that to the press two weeks ago!!...an incredible show...and i had to kind of admit...that through all the wondering and waiting if we would be there...grohl, you were my monkey wrench...but as i left the stadium with thousands of fans into the night...i smiled and thought...there goes my hero...

lady sings the blues

the summer solstice...or summer monsoon...approaches...warm days...flip flops...the memory of thousand pound snow boots recedes...and yet, i feel blue...father's day weekend...it is the same for many...and while i am thankful for having a truly wonderful father-in-law...while my heart is warmed when watching lauren and michael together...this year...after so many...the loss of my father tugs at me...the passage of time changes loss...never erases it...for those of you celebrating with your dad this weekend...enjoy that blessing...for all the dads, bask in your special day...and for those of you with that ache in your heart...think of the funniest, best memory of your dad...and smile...i usually don't put my poems in my blog...but here is one...
shiva
i was left wanting
in your absence


despite the earth
              the sun
                 the sky


the glory of those treasures,
like stale crumbs trailing
a hungry mouse's refusal,
the temptation in vain


imagining your laughter
dancing in a cool morning rain

 

read between the lions...

as a poet i realize that so much of my intent is not only in the lines...but in between them as well...the true mark of success - when your readers find themselves in both...but when i hit "the wall"...as i often do...and cannot write...i read...and being "old school" and proud of it...that means holding a book in my hands...maybe one hot off the press...crisp, with that inky odor wafting from the pages...or from a discounter...worn a bit, with curled corners...or to really feed my nerdy soul...a library book...complete with food and coffee stains from previous borrowers...a bookmark left behind...notes scribbled in the corners...which makes me imagine who held this book before...did they love it...hate it...did it push them to pull out a pen and paper...laptop...or phone...and get those thoughts, feelings and ideas down...twist them...flip them...and find meaning on the other side...and so as i dismay over a drought of words...and look for a book on my bookshelf...i think a train ride is needed....think i need to walk up those stairs between the lions on 42nd street...hold the fruits of writers that came before me in the palms of my hands...hoping for sweet inspiration as the summer heat toasts my brain!

the road not taken

as we shift from winter to summer...(if you blinked you missed spring)...and bask in the heat and humidity...(everyone on the east coast is banned from kvetching after this winter-you must schvitz in silence)...i find myself thinking of choices we make...and one's life makes for us...and i know all this is started whenever i see a graduation post or read a commencement speech...it is not a feeling of melancholy or regret but more of astonishment at the swift passage of time...i found it really hitting me as i paused for a late lunch last week at café reggio in the village...it coincidentally was nyu graduation day...and although the large ceremony now finds its home at yankee stadium, when i closed my eyes i was immediately back 33 years ago in washington square park...a hot glorious day...marching with fellow school of the arts grads...we would be dubbed tisch that day after a hefty endowment...we marched from the old building on second avenue...we were loud, brass and scared...facing a dubious employment future at best...it was tradition that our school jumped in the fountains after  being officially deemed graduates...my bestie jeannine and i had heard the violet robes ran in the water...and we had dresses on anticipating a nice lunch with our parents after...so we held back a bit...or maybe it was all the champagne we had that morning...but those graduates in the fountains...that was always the picture you would see in the daily news...exuberance...defiance...joy...and now it is 33 years later...and there i was draining an iced coffee in the presence of newly minted grads and their parents...from which nyu division really didn't matter...the ache i felt at what was...what is...and what will be...it reminded me that it does the creative soul a little good every once in a while to walk those old familiar steps again...take in all that has changed...and cherish what's remained...and to never second guess what roads you have taken or passed by...it's the detours that define who we are...

the birdcage

"as i wandered out on the streets of miami, i said to meinself this is one fancy town"....back a few days from a trip to the promised land...well, the domestic promised land...and it feels like years ago, as all vacations do...yes, we were in miami...south beach to be exact...a somewhat quieter section, unlike the picture of nathan lane and robin williams forever in my brain...a quick vacation for sun and relaxation...a trip seemingly surrounded by birds...first the emu in front of mike...a woman who clearly should have paid for the seat with extra legroom...when she put her chair back she was practically in his lap...then just for added measure she had to blast her music and get her groove on...so now mike's tray is about to bust off the back of her chair...we were one plane seat malfunction away from paralysis...then there were the cute little birds by the hotel rooftop pool...actual birds...not exactly sure of the species...let's say they were like "swifties"...you know, taylor swift fans...once they start they don't shut the fuck up...but when they did the new cackling came from a group of rocker wannabees directly across from us...you know the type...jeans, black tee shirt...in 90 degree heat...arm sleeve tattoo...then removal of said shirt...and ew...omg...not david grohl...but david lee roth....the 2015 version...they pranced like peacocks but were really rooftop pigeons...the beach...the ocean...the turquoise horizon that melts all memory of winter and the spring that never was...the peaceful hum of the ocean and sunbathers...bright and yellow like canaries...until..."abuelo, abuelo, abuelo"...one billion times...a freaking mynah bird...and I want to scream..."answer your fucking grandkid"...but I turn to the sun instead and dream of meadowlarks...as I watch shore birds comb the sands searching for buried treasure I dig my toes in deeper...want to take the bird songs home...to help me soar above the three hour delay back to laguardia...and the cacophony of caged birds waiting to fly home to their nests

the sky is crying

Every little girl should have an Auntie Sharyn…from my earliest memories of her as my first babysitter…playing with my dolls…torturing her,  along with my cousin Jennifer, by playing my Mary Poppins album… over and over and over…to the rehearsed chorus we would always sing to her “Auntie Sharyn, you got skinny”…chocolate turkeys for all of us every Thanksgiving…then years later…complaining about boys, life and everything to her…and always the sympathetic ear…to becoming a young adult and sharing a New Years with her...sleepovers here and there…next day commuting with much laughter to work…Brighton Beach memories…sun and laughter…the soft lilting tones of the knish guy “geshrying knish knish” and then parking himself by our blanket…not wanting to leave…we knew we couldn’t look at each because if we did we would still be laughing…and then I was an adult…through all the years I would marvel at the closeness and love of Sharyn and her sisters, my mother, Millie and my Aunt Harriet…affectionately “BB’s Girls”…the shorthand between them…her deep love and admiration for her daughter, Iris…her baby girl…and then Eddie…a dear son-in-law…really son after so many years…but Sharyn’s supreme “nachas” came with her grandchildren, Jeff and Jackie…she lit up when talking about them…the big events and day to day life…but life flies by on butterfly wings…and now she is gone…I cannot help but think of that famous T.S. Eliot line  “april is the cruelest month”…and it is cruel that Sharyn is gone…but I am reminded of the mitzvah of memory…a gift to us…and thanking my dear Aunt for that gift as our healing begins…