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...