One.. two.. three..

So this just happened...

We were both so riled up because of the Elon news and the other crap, like Trump calling the despicable rally at MSG a "love fest" that I decided I had to do something other than write a smarmy parody that nobody has liked yet.

I make a delicious dinner..Shepherd's Pie and a veggie casserole.  We clean the kitchen, store the leftovers, and were about to kick back with some "Jeopardy!" and "Wheel" when Evan texted and told us he voted early.

"We're not waiting any longer," Jim says, gathering his car keys.

"But my phone isn't juiced and I'm not wearing a bra or socks and..okay, screw it..let's do early voting.  I'm not taking a chance of getting a flat tire or the flu on Tuesday..can you tell I'm not wearing a bra?"

"I don't care..we're driving a town over and ten minutes out of the way, but we're doing it and we're doing it now.  Besides, how crowded could the Hazlet Library be on a Tuesday night, a week before the election?"

We got the answer to that question immediately..the place was MOBBED and the line snaked around the block. I wasn't even sure if we'd get in before the eight o'clock closing.

I get in line and everyone looked psyched and determined.  A well-dressed Hispanic woman in mustard colored pants stood before me.  She was waving her sample ballot, which I realized I had left in the car, but she told me I probably didn't need it.

We did the dreaded small talk for a while--how pretty the leaves were around the library, the crisp autumn weather, and how voters were so determined to cast their ballots early that non-hanidicapped drivers were sneaking into handicapped  parking spaces.  Men were talking about the doomed Yankees, a pretty blonde   stood behind us and mostly stayed on her phone, but it was obvious that she was eavesdropping.

I say to the Hispanic woman, "I can't believe this turnout!" and she replies, "well..this is the most important election of our lifetime.!"

I giggle, and I say, "well..I'm obviously a lot older than you, but I understand why you say that."

She goes on to say that she is a Hispanic woman with a lot of integrity, and that she's been following the news intently and doing mounds and mounds of research daily.

I tell her that we shouldn't be talking like this, that it might be considered "electioneering" and the blond on the phone just kind of smirked.

The other woman agreed with me and said, "I usually don't discuss politics with strangers but I can see that you are very smart and very well educated."

I thank her for the compliment and try to change the subject to something lighter, but I say, "well..I can tell by the way that you're smiling and the twinkle in your eyes that you are as researched as I am..so good to hear!"

She said, "ok..let's go wild and break some ruies because it's obvious we are on the same page..on the count of three, I'll say that I am one hundred percent voting for.."

I nod and she continues, "and we'll answer together. Ready?  One. Two. Three.  I'm one hundred percent voting for.."

I yell out , "Harris!"

She yells out:  "Trump!!"

WTF?????

We both  looked like we were going to fall over and she said to me, "OMG..really?? You looked so ..smart!"

"I am not wearing a bra," I answer, very respectfully, "but I'm just as floored by your answer as you are by mine."

"But the RESEARCH!" she says.

Jim waves to me..he finally found a parking space.

I say to her, "is it OK if my husband joins us in line?" but I did not add, "so he can knock some sense into you?"

I didn't elaborate and neither did she.  I only start arguments with strangers on line if it's on a screen, not in a pathway in front of a  public library.

She was actually very polite on her way out as she took her "I voted!" sticker, saying it was nice to meet me.

I was planning to keep this story a surprise for Jim until I put it on the blog, but when we got in the car, he asked me if I could judge the crowd by appearances, as he felt that at least sixty percent of the people in line looked like Harris supporters."  He then adds:  "Look at the nice lady you were talking to, the Hispanic one.."

I shook my head and said, "you don't want to know."

He actually hesitated to share this story.  I thought it had an element of black comedy, irony,  and shock..he just felt..depressed.

But we've taped Kamala's speech and we're about to watch it now.

Let’s prevent theft in America

As a lover of all photos and videos of friends' vacations in Puerto Rico, and a lover of "West Side Story", I felt compelled to write a parody of Sunday's disaster at MSG

Sung to the tune of:  "America" from "West Side Story"

INTRO:

Tony Hinchcliffe!

You ugly racist..

your sense of "humor's" the basest..

you, with your ego thats bloating!

THAT is the "garbage" that is.. floating!

and we won't be voting..

for your friend, The Cheeto..

Brother of "Benito"..??

you stoked the flames in Manhattan..

Smoke on your pipe and put THAT in!!

CHORUS:  

Ugh!! "Shame on you!" screams America..

"Gotta vote BLUE!" screams America!

"Hinchcliffe:  Screw you!" screams America..

"Trump and Vance too!" screams America!!

VERSE:

Your humor's just like the Felon's..

Really?? You "carve watermelons"??!!

We get that dig..you're pathetic!

Sexist and anti-semitic!

CHORUS:

Bullshit like this!! Who can tolerate?

Can't convince me you're not fueled.. by hate..

Don't tell the world that it's "just routine"

We in the world know just what you mean..

VERSE:

"You are a DICK!" says the migrants!

Twisted and sick!..(Who LOVES tyrants??!!)

Who wants to instigate violence??

Who wants all newspapers silenced??

CHORUS:

Stereotypes hurt America

You're an asswipe in America!

Take all your swipes at America..

They know your type in America!

VERSE:

Trump envies studs.. ARNOLD PALMER????

Trump probably loved Jeffey Dahmer!

Or maybe that Unibomber??

(Let's all be smart..let's vote "Kam-a-ler!")

FINAL CHORUS:

Don't be bereft in America!

Let's prevent theft of America!

Just one week left in America!

Or we are effed in America!!

It’s a yes!

 “The Play”

The Setting: 1697 Broadway, New York, New York.  The home of the Ed Sullivan Theater, and popular television shows such as the “Pyramid” franchise and “Late Show With David Letterman”
The Time:  It doesn’t matter..this is fiction

FADE IN

ACT I, SCENE I

AS WE BREAK FOR COMERCIAL, I AM THE NERVOUS CONTESTANT IN THE WINNERS’ CIRCLE AS MY ‘PYRAMID” DREAM HAS COME TRUE. I’VE MADE IT THIS FAR, BUT I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER HOW I’LL DO IN THIS NEXT ROUND, WHERE IT COUNTS.  DICK CLARK IS GIVING ME A BACK RUB TO HELP ME RELAX. I WISH IT WAS A SEDATIVE. THE STAGE IS BUSY WITH THE CREW AND THEIR CAMERAS AND BOOMS AND  MICS; THE ADVERTISERS ARE PEDDLING FLOOR CLEANER AND CHICKEN COATING DURING THE COMMERCIAL BREAK. THE STAGE MANAGER COUNTS DOWN.  FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO ONE…AND WE’RE BACK LIVE ON 

                    DICK CLARK (SPEAKING TO GENERIC CELEBRITY)

Remember, don’t use your hands or give any illegal clue.  If you do, you’ll hear THIS sound: (OFF STAGE: TWO  HARSH RAPID BEATS) Are you ready??  You have 30 seconds..and..GO!!!

I am a good player. Skilled, quick, relaxed. My partner, RANDOM CELEBRITY, is on fire. We have twelve seconds, which is quite a bit of time, when we reach the top of the Pyramid.  I am fed these clues:

 Fairy dust. Stars in the sky. Red carpet evening gowns. Freshly fallen snow. Christmas lights.

I belt out the answer, knowing I’m going to hit the jackpot.

“THINGS THAT SPARKLE!” I shout, as I’m hugged by RANDOM CELEBRITY and Dick Clark, knowing I’ve just won big bucks.

FADE TO BLACK

BACK TO REALITY:

Thanks for playing along….but you know what sparkles  even more brightly than anything I listed in the fantasy? 

 Wanna venture a guess??

It’s the butterfly-shaped diamond on the ring finger of my future daughter-in-law’s hand!

Evan asked. 

She said yes!!

I always wanted a daughter and now I’m getting one.

That’s not exactly true, the part about “always wanting a daughter.”

In 1994, when the  home pregnancy test came back positive, I actually wrote “is this Evan?” on it with a Sharpie.  I was relieved when future  tests confirmed I was having a boy. Relieved isn’t quite the right word—the tech never heard a reaction like mine.  Most expectant moms ONLY react that way when they discover they’re having a girl.

But those moms are girly, and they dream of clipping ribbons onto bouncy curls with their daughters named Jennifer or Ashley, the sweet little cherubs in designer onesies that are showered in trinkets and hopes that she’ll grow up to be their Mini Me.

I didn’t want that because I didn’t have that. I had tumult and endless arguments and drama, although I miss my mother every day, and I’m grateful that she gave me things like a love of Broadway and other  little things like, you know, morals and integrity.

I didn’t think a daughter would survive a hormonal, crazy mom like me, but now that I’m gaining a daughter, I couldn’t be more delighted.

I’m so glad Evan persevered. 

He never gave up on the apps, even when they led him to nut jobs who’d say things like, “I don’t want to see you again because the blue shirt you’re wearing doesn’t match the blue in  your eyes” or “you didn’t sound sincere with your condolences when my goldfish died.”

Flash forward to February, 2023, that first date at Coldstone Creamery.

They met on Hinge and their texts were promising.

 She  was funny, social, smart, and..sparkly. 

She wore beautiful earrings and ordered the mint chocolate chip.

(which she still does, to both)

Evan played it coy for a few weeks before admitting to us that he had “met someone.” 

He didn’t want to jinx anything by sharing details prematurely, but he knows about my lifelong interest in names, especially girls’ names, so he gave us this hint:  “She has the same name as a First Lady.”

I guess:  Laura?  Hillary??  Jill? Betty?? Oh..I hope it’s not Betty!!..Melanie??(a normal Melania, if there is such a thing as a normal Melania)

He’s shaking his head and laughing at our guesses. 

 When I was finally green lighted to share this, I made my brother guess the same way we had to.  

“Geraldine?” he wondered, as in the feminine version of President Ford. 

Geraldine???!!

That’s a more old fashioned name than Betty! 

 What’s the next guess..Lady Bird??

When Evan gave us the hint that she was a beloved First Lady of recent years, it clicked as we shouted in unison, “ Oh…Michelle!”

Michelle.  

His belle.

We loved her immediately.

We met her a few months later for dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant, followed by Game Night at our house. She was witty and pop culture savvy (especially music) and she  talked lovingly about her students. (She’s a school speech pathologist)

 She shared interesting details about  her nationality and culture. Evan’s already picked up a few Russian words.

She had an infectious giggle and beautiful eyes that focused lovingly on our son.  She was a great sport too..a perfect team player who’d laugh at our goofiness and how ill-prepared we were for Game Night, with our dried out Magic Markers that we  needed to draw with, or the dead batteries in games that required them.

My son is SO LUCKY, although knowing Michelle as I now  do, she’d call herself the lucky one.

Welcome to our nutty, dysfunctional family.

 And thanks for making me realize that maybe I wanted a daughter all along after all..as long as that daughter was YOU.

May your future be as sparkly as the ring that adorns your hand. 

Something tells me it will be.

Oklahoma 2024

This was written after the September debate but a lot of you told me you weren’t familiar with the song, “Surrey With the Fringe on Top” from “Oklahoma!” Thanks to the brilliant vocal and musical talents of the U.K.’s beautiful and gifted  Rachel, and the tech genius of my husband, you can sing along to this Rodgers and Hammerstein sendup. Click on the link below… and enjoy! Comments welcome!

https://youtu.be/oRkl5w-NKdg

I know he’s a jerk. But..

Sorry , no. 

I’m not stopping until after the election. 

You can unfriend me, hate me, mimic me, challenge me, ignore and resent me, but no. 

I’m sorry/not sorry and I’m not stopping.

Think of these daily protests like canvassing, and then factor in my age and size and tendencies for an asthmatic episode and you’ll understand why this is as close to real canvassing as someone like me is going to get.

In the seventies and eighties, my mother was a regular patient of a mean, nasty, positively hideous obstetrician/ gynecologist in Philadelphia named Dr. 

K.

He was gruff and he was an asshole who’d miss  and even dismiss many women’s health issues, including early cancer signs.

An obese friend of a friend went to him and while she was  on the cold exam table, her feet in stirrups,  with her vulnerability and naked lower body half exposed, Dr.K would grab handfuls of belly flab and forbid her to return to his office unless they were gone.  He called her disgusting.

Many patients left his office insulted or crying.

I never went to Dr. K but I told my mom that a lot of my friends were going to the same neighborhood where he had his office to see a new female gynecologist.

“Oh no,” my mom said, shaking her head. “I know he’s a jerk sometimes, but I trust him. I don’t know how comfortable I’d be with a female doctor performing routine tests, because I never went to one.”

Yeah, it’s like THAT.

And  this is  a one hundred percent true story.

Almost guilty.. but nah..

On this Day of Atonement, I will ask forgiveness from people who had a harsher fast than mine, who had 

a day of deep commitment rather than what I experienced, which was reflection in a quieter, nontraditional way.

Even during the holiest days, I manage to sneak in some fun moments, starting yesterday and coming to 

a conclusion tonight, after the sun set.

We saw a matinee of Jason Reitman’s new film, “Saturday Night” which I liked a lot more than Jim did. 

Jim found it muddled, confusing, and chaotic, way too frenetic, which it was, but he still appreciated 

how many of the younger actors captured the essence of the Not Ready For Prime Time Player they 

were portraying. (A special shout out to the actor who played Chevy Chase to perfection)

I used to think I’d one day want to write jokes for SNL, until I discovered that A) I’m not really that funny 

and I could not survive in an environment of cigarette haze and drugs and sleepless nights and 

aggression and misogyny.

But we both got excited when we recognized actor Josh Brener (“Big Head from “Silicon Valley”) as his 

character’s name was revealed late in the scene toward the end of the movie. . He portrayed SNL writer 

Alan Zweibel, and I was filled with incredible pride when I realized that Alan recognized my comedic 

efforts as a former customer of Salutations, the Singing Telegram Company I owned since the 90’s. He 

used the word “wow” after I read him my custom written lyrics..and it was one of the best “wows” of 

my dubious “career.”

See the movie, but only if you’re the type of fan who pays attention to the names of writers and 

directors and if you’re familiar with the show’s controversial history. It is astounding to realize the first 

show aired on October 11th, 1975—forty-nine years to the day of seeing the movie. I remember seeing 

the show with my Dad..and loving its edginess; laughing how we couldn’t tell a real paid advertisement 

from one of their commercial send ups.

When the sun went down tonight, we hopped into the car to head out to Long Branch, New Jersey, to 

our favorite little theater that stages original plays, NJ Repertory Theater.

This show has a very limited run but it was absolutely fabulous, a two character story called “Pen Pals” 

starring Nancy McKeon(“Jo” from “The Facts of Life”) and local British actress Gail Winar. If you ever saw 

a Broadway or even Off-Broadway production of “Love Letters” and liked it, you’re going to LOVE this.

The story takes place over several decades as New Jersey resident Bernadette(“Bernie”, played by Nancy 

McKeon) is assigned her Pen Pal from across the pond, Margaret, (“Mags”, played by Gail Winar) as 

they exchange correspondence and love, laughter, and heart break. 

We gasped, we smiled, we had tears in our eyes at the curtain call, which we’re convinced the actresses 

notice since we were seated only a few feet away from them.

And once again, we struck up a conversation with the people sharing our row, who actually knew the 

playwright, and shared that it is a mostly true story based on the author’s mother and her English pal.

It was terrific theater, a night of genuine entertainment topped by the sweet surprise of running into 

our former Travel Agent, Christine, with her husband. If you’ve enjoyed any of my travel blogs, rest 

assured that those trips were booked by a person who really knew her stuff. We miss her..and wonder 

how many trip catastrophes could have been prevented had she not taken her well deserved 

retirement and booked us to a resort free of inadequate shower heads and fly-covered outdoor grills..

I almost feel guilty for having such an enjoyable weekend, considering the holiness of the day and the 

terrifying possibility of what the upcoming election could mean, but..nah. 

Almost only counts in horse shoes.

I’m going to enjoy life whenever and wherever I can.

I really don’t care do you?

Sorry, but  when I’m inspired to write, I’m going to write. 

At least until  after Election Day.

I feel like his supporters booked a weekend at an air BandB because they were entertained there in 2004 but haven’t been back since. 

Their vacation rental is on fire, with dangerous fumes jutting out of every window and poisonous anacondas lurking in every tree, but the couple still wants to check in because they had an enjoyable stay two decades ago. 

Their real estate agent offers them a safer option on the next block, but they voice concerns about the availability of premium cable and the wife heard  a rumor that the wallpaper in the guest bedroom is dated.

Share this or unfriend me, I really don’t care.

Do you?

Kama love

I didn’t know her.

I didn’t know much about her at all. 

Except that she apparently did some good things in California.

I put her smack in the center of the debate stage, in the middle of the candidates I’d  personally support, where, if I’m not mistaken, her podium actually stood in 2020.

I knew I liked her more than Marianne Williamson and Bernie Sanders, but not as much as Mayor Pete or Amy Klobuchar.

I liked her fashion sense and her speaking voice, a voice that is almost a  clone of someone’s from my social circle.

She had pretty pearls and nice hair and I wondered why she didn’t go by something easier to say, like “Kim” or even “Kammy.”

She was.. fine.. but an unknown entity.

And when Biden won the nomination and chose her, I thought: “ I wish he chose Stacey Abrams or even Beto but she’ll be good, I guess”

And then I wrote a song about her to “Camelot” because I do stuff like that and she had the perfect name for a parody.

I didn’t know her as the vice president. I know admittedly and shamefully very little about ANY vice president, and when Nikki Haley ran  for president as a candidate for the other  side and said, “ if something should happen to Biden, we’ll be stuck with Harris !”  I wondered if that would be  bad, to be “stuck” with someone like her. 

Nikki made this speech last winter and I wondered what she was talking about.

And now I know how baseless Haley’s fear was.

I’ve known since July 21st, when  Harris became Biden’s likely successor,  exactly who she, Kamala  Harris, is. 

And it goes way beyond bragging rights that her husband had his bar mitzvah at the same synagogue my son  did. 

I don’t have to boast about THAT any longer, because now my joy runs deeper than that.

I can brag that I will be VOTING..for a woman of integrity and character. A tough prosecutor with a heart of gold and a vocabulary beyond that of a third grader’s. 

She has plans and policies. 

She will unite us and make us laugh and make us put cultured  pearls onto our holiday gift lists.

She is powerful and articulate, and her critics will respect her when they realize what her plans are for the economy and a safer border.. 

..because they’re there! 

They’re real! 

And they’re.. spectacular!

(Yeah, the “Seinfeld “ reference is on purpose. Deal with it.)

Every time I hear her speak, especially to youngsters and doubting Thomases , she makes me want to shout my endorsement from the rooftop!

I know her now, I’ve followed the media blitz.

I know her. I respect her. And I need her.

And I shudder to think of an alternative outcome if we don’t jump aboard that train.. if we somehow miss out on all the Kama-love.

Vote blue!

How’d it play in Davenport?

JD Vance with those piercing blue eyes..

JD Vance with his endless lies...

When Evan was a high school junior and senior, he was an active member of the Speech and Debate team.

 The school always did well--and so did our son.

 I remember being volunteer judges with all those other parents who'd get up at an ungodly hour on a Saturday to take the bus with the team and go to various high schools in the state to either break a teenager's heart, or make them soar, with a rating of one to six,  and detailed feedback filled with praise or thinly veiled constructive criticism,   as we listened to them plead their cases in a variety of categories.

 For fun, we rated the debaters of the 2024 election with the same methods we'd use to rate those terrified and/or poised students. 

 We compared notes and agreed, the number one place would  be awarded to Harris, followed by Walz, Vance, Biden, and lastly Trump, who joined the Master Debater Team in the first place because he thought it was something else entirely.

JD could at least  form sentences: Trump should be serving them.

Maybe JD showed a touch of humanity when he told Walz that he hadn't realized that Gus had witnessed a shooting, and maybe he sounded a little polished when he said he'd support a Walz vice presidency, but c'mon..this is still the snake oil salesman saying childless Haitian women were eating their cats, or something like than that. 

I don't trust the guy, but I'm afraid to admit he spoke well.

But how  did he play in Peoria?

Or worse..how'd he do in Davenport???

(You have to be older than the hills to get that last remark)