Hello Columbus

​Hello, Columbus!

From the hellish nightmare that was our only sleeping option on Thursday, to the spectacular mansion-like setting we called home  last night( and tonight), it just goes to show you that…

…. aaaaaaand…. I totally lost my train of thought.

It goes to show you that ..????

We’re in an absolutely spectacular setting now.. the layout may be confusing ( I couldn’t find our room if I stayed for a week)  but the palatial grounds are beautiful.. just like grounds of  an elegant wedding should be. 

Ponds, gazebos, verdant fields, spraying fountains, cozy nooks and tiny bridges straight out of a  Grimms Brothers tale.

There’s a library.. a wood paneled pub, several fireplaces, and I’m pretty sure the venue hired two staffers to be on call 24/7 as Hansel and Gretel. 

The best part of last night’s dessert reception ( which turned out to be our only dinner) was swapping horror stories with other weary travelers. 

Everyone who didn’t drive dealt with delays, cancellations, and temperament.

But we were the only ones who had to stay in a hotel where most of the guests have criminal records, I bet. 

I wish I had the patience to be in a car for a long road trip, but I don’t, and I’m missing out on so much.

Evan and Michelle sampled chocolates in Hershey and had a photo op with a larger than life coffee pot when their journey continued into rural Pennsylvania.

They stopped at a zoo in West Virginia yesterday, dealing with heat and humidity, all worth it because of the very unmistakable appearance by the zoo’s main attraction, the elusive red panda. 

Michelle was overjoyed!

Red Pandas are her passion.

That, and avocado toast. 

( the highly recommended Chinese restaurant where they stopped for lunch in Wheeling was a dud.  I’m guessing the specialty of the house was.. red panda??)

Anyway.. road trips!! 

For those of you who are young enough and romantic enough to  still enjoy them..

It was great to introduce Michelle to family members she hadn’t met yet, and I loved catching up with cousins, especially Marc, who is a well know tv personality/doctor  in his hometown of Las Vegas.

Not sure what’s on tap for the afternoon.. maybe exploring this lovely little college town, or visiting the university where the soon to be groom is a professor.

You gotta love family.. and be appreciative if you’re fortunate enough to still have one!

I’m now chilling with my lovely daughter-in-law in an air conditioned building in the UNESCO recommended Earthworks exhibit, a well known attraction here in Granville.

Jim and Evan have higher tolerance for the humidity, so they’re outside exploring the infamous “ mounds” of this historic sight.

Now if we’re talking mounds as in the candy bar??  

That would be different.

Then I’d ignore the heat and go exploring right along with them. 

We spent the morning touring the deserted college campus of Dennison, where the soon to be groom is a professor in their computer science department. 

The campus is lovely and I bet it’s stunning when autumn leaves pop up. 

Most famous alum: Steve Carell.

The campus looks like a sprawling fictional one that film location scouts might want for romcoms or slasher movies

Each building is more impressive than the next, with stone  pillars and inspiring architecture. 

After riding around campus, we drove a short distance to the picturesque small town of Granville , with its “ next stop, Willoughby!” vibe and adorable shops and galleries and old fashioned bookstores. 

Lunch was a specialty sandwich shop called Alfie’s, where you sit outside in a little garden reading commemorative plaques  while eating “ pickle and peanut butter” sandwiches.

I’m not insane or even a daring glutton ( any more) so I had the roast beef on sour dough bread that was too crusty to digest ( but nonetheless delish) slathered with savory creamy  horseradish and peppery sprouts. 

“Yum!” 

(As they say on social media.. “they” being everyone on social media, every time an old high school friend posts a pic of their breakfast burrito.)

The pool in this hotel looked less murky last night, and I’ll assume it’s heavily chlorinated, but we were thrilled to see it was completely empty, so the four of us could enjoy it, take a few steps leading to the outdoor patio,and watch the sprouting fountain.

It was great until a dad showed up with his kid, aggressively throwing missiles across the entire length of the pool.

I already lost one pair of eyeglasses to the unrelenting Atlantic this summer, I wasn’t gonna sacrifice another to a kid who thought he was trying out for the Yankees.

And despite all my passive aggressive remarks that mortified  Jim and Evan.. the pitching didn’t stop,which is why I’m typing this from the outside patio,watching my thighs fry to a crisp.

Oh!! 

Evan just signaled that they’re gone..time to swim!!

Wow.. as much as I claim to detest boring  small talk, this post has become exactly that, so let me wrap up and try to make myself look like a presentable wedding guest.

More later

Oh Beautiful.. LaGuardia

​I am a dirty girl, and not just because of my mind and mouth and unwashed hair. 

We woke up  at dawn today to the plaintive wail of dogs,  mangy mongrels that were probably kenneled in filthy cages last time, and screamed, “ it’s still better than this dump.. confine us to a  cramped kennel, please!”

I did not take a shower and I barely washed my hands.  

Reviews of that very conveniently located hotel warn the curious on social media to “ beware the random semen stains.”

Thus explaining why  we didn’t bathe today.. that shower head was most likely filled with sewage and bodily fluids or a deadly combo. 

And that tiny bit of the Dunkin croissant I sampled last night showed me just how deeply Montezuma’s revenge..er..  runs, but I shouldn’t make jokes, because I’m in the air now, Chicago bound, squeezed between two strangers near the very back of the aircraft, and if I keep up with this petty complaining, I’m afraid we’re going to be rerouted toward Mexico City and more  vengeance from Mr. Montezuma.

United Airlines still hasn’t given us any explanation about last night’s fiasco and abrupt cancellation.

A luggage porter said it had something to do with “ radar” but I think we were being jerked off.

Or Gary Burghoff-ed around because of that aforementioned Radar.

(Use Google, millennials!) 

Our moods were somewhat elevated when we saw how former Mayor Andrew Cuomo  fulfilled his campaign promises and totally revamped LaGuardia International Airport. 

It is simply gorgeous now, like a beautiful upscale mall that Club Med Sandpiper might have urged guests to visit as a paid excursion back in the day.

Cascading waterfalls, special areas for meditation and pet relief, exquisite tiling, and so many food court  options. 

If you’re planning on flying out of New York City anytime soon, choose LaGuardia.. but stay at a chain hotel, even if it’s further by Uber. 

Because trust me, you want to feel clean and safe, even if all the sleaziness inspired you to write a snarky post on Facebook like this one. 

Now let’s just see if we make our connecting flight to Columbus without incident.

Save me a brownie just in case..

Goodbye Columbus

​“Goodbye, Columbus” was one of the funniest movies my parents ever took me to, in the summer of ‘69.

The second funniest movie they took me to later that year was “The Out of Towners” starring Jack Lemmon and Sandy Dennis,  a story about two innocent Buckeyes, and their terrible misadventures while  traveling from  a small town in Ohio to NYC.

Life imitates art tonight. 

I now present to you; “Karen and Jim attempt to fly to Ohio!”

( Part One.)

We’ve been looking forward to this weekend’s  wedding,  hosted by our favorites cousins,  since the kids announced their engagement late last August.

It was kismet: we booked our flight out of Newark, New Jersey,  to fly to Columbus, Ohio, a half hour ride from the wedding venue in.. I kid you not, Newark, Ohio. 

We booked a full day before festivities were to begin, in case of a “ delay” that we just KNEW wasn’t going to happen, just like we KNEW the occupant of the White House was ABSOLUTELY going to be one Kamala Harris.

Guess who’s not in Ohio??

(Kamala’s probably not, but she wasn’t supposed to be. )

I’m all set for this wedding, right? 

Beautiful new dress, matching clutch and shoes and earrings. 

I hit a  little snag when trying to make a  last minute hair appointment on Saturday for that evening’s affair, but eleven salons that I called close at noon on Saturdays, and most establishments had no landlines. 

No biggie.. my hair didn’t have to be great.  

I’m a cousin, not as essential member of the bridal party. 

Evan and Michelle are very smart.

Be like Evan and Michelle.

Drive those eight hours.. stop in Hershey for unique chocolates.. make it a fun  overnight getaway!! 

Be there in time with access to a car!! 

We ARE having fun, as in the stuff that makes black comedies box office gold kind of fun. 

Moments before our taxi arrived for an airport pickup, Jim lets out a scream that could have awoken the dead. 

“Our flight’s been delayed.. two hours!” He yells, inconsolably. 

We got in the cab and decided to make the best of it. 

Some travelers sit on the tarmac for two hours for goodness sakes.. .. we are resourceful and would find the silver lining. 

Ten minutes into the cab ride, Jim gets a text that it’s now been delayed another hour.. which meant a two AM arrival in Ohio.

We were ok.. until he gets two quick texts in succession:

1. your flight is now scheduled to depart at ten PM followed by..

2. Your  flight has been cancelled!!

We were moments away from Newark airport, crippled with indecision:

Do we spend another hundred dollars to Uber back  home? 

Do we find a customer service rep who can help??

Hah!!

The latter doesn’t exist!

You have to call someone, and be prepared to wait an hour until someone picks up.

Do we try to get a train? Rent a car? Charter a helicopter?

I called my friend in the city, who lives nowhere near La Guardia, hoping she could put us up, but all she had was an air mattress and no strength to blow it up. 

This flight is normally  just shy of two hours.. and it was turning into a Red Eye. 

It took less time  and inconveniences to fly to Barcelona!!

The agent was giving us all kinds of options, each worse than the next. 

“ we could put you on a late afternoon flight to Washington tomorrow, but you’d have to change airlines and identifies and there’s no guarantee you won’t wind up going to that fancy wedding in your sweaty jeans and tees.”

The agent was giving Jim all kinds of terrible choices, but by the time he discussed them with me, they were no longer available.

WTF??!!

That conversation/ consultation with me was under a minute!! 

This Karen needed to talk to a manager and needed to talk to one as soon as possible before she’d be on the national news. 

So here’s where are now:

In the sleaziest hotel we’ve ever been to, a mile from La Guardia airport. 

The room has sketchy air conditioning and bullet holes on the elevator  door. 

The curtains have what one can only hope are holes from nothing more harmful than a common moth. 

We are hearing sirens, and we are smelling a combination of cigarettes and Dunkin’ Donuts, a rather unseemly one,  but it was our only food option because it’s right across the broken glass covered parking lot. 

I hadn’t been to this establishment, DD,  in years.. and I now know why. 

Our room key didn’t work when we returned from that nauseating repast, but the night clerk  sensed our problem, and ran up two flights  of steps to let us in. 

He blamed the lockout on cell phones. 

We are booked though!

On a flight!! 

Tomorrow morning!! 

Middle seats, separate rows, back of the plane, but hey.. we’re going to Chicago!! 

And then rushing to another gate for our connecting flight to Columbus!

“Planes, Trains, and Automobiles”  has nothing on us. 

This motel makes a Motel Six look like the Taj  Mahal ( the kindest  Google review said to just “ use it for the bathroom and sleep in your car!” ) but we are troopers!!

If the bride and groom or their families are reading this, rest assured:

Do not stress!! 

We love you!

We will be at that beautiful wedding and we’ll all have a huge laugh about it without stealing your spotlight. 

I promise. 

You are worth every one of these obstacles that have been tossed our way. 

But if I miss something like homemade brownies at tomorrow night’s dessert reception, United Airlines is going to pay a lot more that the cost of our flea bag  hotel and Uber!!

I’ll keep you updated.. thanks for letting me be me.

A Night in Sellersville

​Wow.. that was a long time coming!!

And worth every second of the  seemingly endless wait.

I hadn’t seen my BFF Rochelle nor  her husband, Andy, since Evan’s September wedding, but this was the perfect night.

Perfect timing.

Perfect weather.

Wonderful meal,  hilarious conversation, elegant ambiance, and best of all, meeting my idol. 

I had been a fan of comedic genius Craig Shoemaker for a couple of decades now, and I’ve spent most of those decades trying to figure out my personal connection to him. 

I narrowed it down to when I wrote personalized lyrics for the Singing Telegram Company of Philadelphia,  where I “ think” I first made his acquaintance, or possibly when  I donated a kidney to him. 

I know he was in the same  high school homeroom as my fabulously talented colleague, Carole, but the connection is still vague.. or it’s all in my head and I just made everything up. . 

But anyway, last Oscar season, he randomly showed up on my wall, like an intuitive butterfly, as  I discovered we shared a  single brain, and ideas about what Academy Award season has meant to us personally. 

And then I discover a  lot more common ties than knowing all the nominees for Best Documentary Shorts, and the repartee has been ongoing ever since. 

He’s at the max for Facebook friends, but he’s still showing up on that proverbial wall, and he’s inspired me to post anything that pops into my warped mind.. without a filter. 

( our  running gag this week involved the glasses I lost in the Atlantic, some seventy five miles north of where he was vacationing with his family, and my insistence that if he recovered them, I’d be able to see his soul)

I thought I had the perfect ice breaker when it was time to meet, asking “ so did you ever find my fucking glasses?” which is a weird opener, since someone had literally just  lost their glasses during the show, leading him to surmise the crazy lady in the pink top was the original owner.

I reminded him of all the comments I’ve been posting since Oscar season, and he asked me if I was a virgin, which is something most fans of the golden statuette ask me on a regular basis, and then he told Jim that I am a “ character” , the subtext being “ in a horror novel.”

The meet and greet was quick but memorable, the meal was delicious, and we’re now overnighting in this very classy hotel because night driving is off the table. 

Another night of summer magic!! 

And of course, because he’s an admitted fan of Broadway musicals with a voice like Hugh Jackman, he inspired me to write the following:

Shoemaker, Shoemaker

Oh, what  a show!

You gotta go!

Trust me, I KNOW!!

I will detail in my next paragraphs 

My night of a million laughs!

Joined my best friend there,

Her name is Rochelle 

Her husband went .. mine did as well 

Had a great dinner.. our fun motley crew 

And Craig.. it’s because of you!!

Your jokes were

Fresh and exciting!

The folks were

Glad you work mostly clean 

Some “wokes” were

Loving your writing 

( Your Mama didn’t raise you to be obscene)

Gut busting laughter.. we’re so glad we went..

No doubt that was.. money well spent!

So glad you popped up 

on Facebook last spring..

So random.. but kid,

So glad you did!

If not.. we’d miss

Something like this!!

And not know you!! 

( G-d forbid!!) 

( now we just have to recruit some of Tevye’s daughters to bring this to life)

A Grooming Tail

​Well..here's a bit of mundane minutia that I'm going to try to turn into a readable  blog.

Let's see if I succeed.

Tonight we're celebrating Evan's birthday, and Saturday night I'm seeing my BFF for dinner and a show..haven't seen her since Evan's wedding in September.

Okay..these details are already superfluous so let's get to the nitty gritty

So because of these special occasions, I decided to go for a mani/pedi today, which autocorrect first presented  as "manicotti", which I almost kept, because autocorrect is a raving lunatic.

I'm at the manicurist's station, and the woman next to me is having her nails  done as well.

  She seemed reluctant to talk to her "Madge"  and  told her she wasn't "doing well and didn't want to talk about it" and if you gave her the side eye, you could see she was clearly upset.

She then begins to open up, and says she's devastated because her family just had to make the painful decision of putting their  dog to sleep. 

 She's sharing all the horrible details, and I just wanted to reach out and hug her.

Well..that would have been weird to offer physical comfort to a stranger, especially with wet nails, so I decided to do what I do best by offering verbal words of wisdom.

I say, "I don't mean to eavesdrop..but we just went through this in March. It was so hard, but when we realized we were ending his suffering, not his life, it was so much easier..."

She nodded, and I add:  "He was in such bad shape and it wasn't even  his first brush with death.  Last August, he had just returned from the groomer when he was let outside to do his business, and he somehow managed to squeeze through the slots of a very secure gate.  Our sixteen and a half year old poodle almost drowned that day but lived another seven months and.."

The woman stared at me and said, "You're Luke's Mom??"

I had no idea who she was until she identified herself:

"I'm Heather.  I am  that  groomer you just talked about"

I didn't recognize her because Jim did all the drop offs, but what a coincidental  story about my fur baby,  shared on the thirty-first  birthday of my real baby.

She went on to say that Luke was her last pure-bred poodle, as they're all now Yorkipoos and Morkipoos and piles of poo.

(That last one came from me)

We both laughed as we remembered all the scars Jim bore when he was stupid enough to  try to give him a  new toy.

Heather remembers him as tough at first, then sweet and mellow for nearly  a decade,  until the incontinence and dementia set it.

(I'm talking about Luke, not Jim)

There's something about dog owners..we're all just six degrees of separation, aren't we??

Just a mere Bonaparte...

 

.

A day with Larry / A night with the Beatles

Episode four, season one,  of “Life, Larry, and the Pursuit of Unhappiness” was side splittingly hilarious, especially the  spoof of Watergate. 

What a fun way to spend this evening.

That was not a misspeak.. it is pitch black here in Monmouth County,  New Jersey.

The clock reads 1:46 PM but it’s total blackness out there. 

I guess it beats the bright orange sky we’ve been seeing since Thursday. 

And it beats explosive diarrhea.

But I miss those days when the quintessential answer to the most obvious question in the world was always, “ yes” 

( as in “ is the sky is blue?”)

What’s next??

We’ll find out the Pope  isn’t Catholic?

Or that  bear doesn’t sh*t in the woods??

( unless he just consumed some lettuce from Taco  Bell)

Or.. I know!!!

People will be shocked to discover the word “dumb” has a silent “b?”

Don’t listen to me today.. my spare glasses are giving me double vision so I don’t even know what  I’m saying or typing. 

My specs are living it up at the bottom of the Atlantic,  while I try to make use of all the other senses I was born with. 

Catch Larry for some genuine laughs. 

I don’t think Cheryl Hines will  make any  guest appearances after the way her better half was destroyed by her former tv husband.

So...once again, we think outside the box, take ourselves out of our comfort zone of a mediocre movie at a local theater, , and had a wonderful and unexpected night as we ventured off to The Vogel Theater in Red Bank for the second weekend in a row.

There were torrential downpours in town tonight..everyone arrived at the theater looking and feeling like drowned rats.

You know the situation is dire when a perfect stranger approaches your table and says, "I'm not sure if I just had an accident or not, that's how wet my pants are."

Tonight's show was phenomenal..

A local Beatles cover band called "Wag."

Their voices were spectacular..they captured every lyric with nuanced perfection.

The costumes!

The sets!

The vibe!

It's nirvana for Boomers like us, as vintage clips from the first appearance by the Fab Four on the Ed Sullivan show appeared on the big screen, including authentic commercials for products that nobody uses anymore.

Fans were dancing in the aisles, singing along to every familiar tune(which was EVERY tune) and becoming fast friends during intermission and before the show's start.

We were seated with friends Linda and Rosie, and we tell them this is the second week in a row visiting this theater, as we had just seen a one-man Groucho Marx show.

Rosie tells us that she saw a production of a Groucho show on Broadway that her cousin was in..her cousin even won an award.

I perk up and say, "oh..did he play Groucho? Would we recognize his name?"

She replies, "no..SHE did..My cousin won a Tony award for playing Harpo in "A Day in Hollywood../a Night in the Ukraine"..you may have heard of her?? Priscilla Lopez??"

I'm star struck, and I respond, "I love Priscilla, but I thought she won for playing Diana Morales in 'A Chorus Line.'"

"No." Rosie corrects me.."She was nominated, but she won for "A Day in Hollywood."

I'm telling her how much I loved Priscilla's solos.."What I Did For Love" and "Nothing", and  Rosie tells me how down to Earth her cousin is, and how much they love just "hanging out."

She continues.."And I've socialized a lot with her best friend from the cast.  Do you remember the dancer who played Sheila.."

I cut her off immediately.

Do I remember Sheila??!!!

Played by the marvelous Carole Bishop..who changed her name to..Kelly Bishop??

As in..Kelly Bishop who played Emily GILMORE Kelly Bishop??!!

"Yup, " Rosie laughed..."That's her..why..were you a big fan of "Gilmore Girls" or something?"

It's like she injected pure joy into my heart that took effect immediately.

The most Emmy-deserving actress(besides Lauren Graham herself) from my favorite show of all time..and I'm sitting with her buddy???

Beatles! Bishop! Broadway!!

The evening was magical and perfect...even rain wasn't going to rain on my parade tonight.

And best of all..the sun will come out..tomorrow.​

The High Sees

​I’ve missed you,Belmar beach!!

Finally back.. it’s hazy. 

It’s cloudy. 

It’s empty. 

But there’s an ocean breeze.

And parking was a breeze. 

It’s not hot at all, but if it was hot, I’d be non-stop complaining about how hot it is. 

And if it gets hot,we’re thirty minutes away from our pool.

And seven seconds away from the actual ocean, but you know me.. I’m irrational and I’m high maintenance. 

A deadly combo.

And  a deadly combo is what I’ll order for lunch because we’re here, damnit!    

And I don’t care if I’m not hungry or not hot, I’m braving the waves  and giving Joey Chestnut a run for  his money. 

It’s just a matter of time,

Wanna bet I still don’t open my kindle??

This is not funny. 

Not all my blogs are funny, even the ones that are supposed to be funny.

This is the unfunniest.

This is the Carrot Top of Karen  Amster blogs. 

I needed my beach fix today.. desperately.

The sun is peeking through the haze. 

The sunscreen smells intoxicating, like it always does. 

We split a Philly cheesesteak and ignored the rude seagulls begging for morsels.

We return to our comfy, high back chairs and the sun finally feels strong. 

The waves look gentle and the kids are frolicking.

Perfect time for them to frolic and for me to.. let’s just say.. get rid of  some of the pink lemonade we shared at lunch like we were freakin’ Danny Zukko and Sandy Olsen. 

We’re holding hands like teenagers.. teenagers where the guy yells at the girl to grab the arm that wasn’t damaged in that fall in early June.

But the girl is dyslexic and mixing up the good arm from the not so good arm.

The waves ate the girl  ( aka  “me”) up like her mom would  eat a whole  plastic pumpkin full of Snickers bars before a single trick-or-treater arrived on Halloween night.

I was a dryer sheet in the tumble cycle. 

I didn’t get to answer Nature’s Call. 

And my glasses are gone for good. 

The ones I’m too vain to wear in photos. 

So if I’m typing complete illegible gibberish today, well.. how is this day any different than any other day??

A lifeguard pulled me up. 

Jim strained a muscle pulling me up.

I begged the lifeguard to look for my glasses, but I think he snickered at me. 

I’m not sure if a seagull just hobbled by or a penguin. 

It might have been a nun. 

I cannot see a freaking thing. 

But….

I got my beach fix!!

I probably have a spare pair at home.. but I’m going to need my glasses to find them.

And no, I’m not posting video of a myopic me trying to make my way back to the car. 

Unless you really want to see it. 

Rub it in, bitches.. the fact that you can still see because YOUR glasses aren’t at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

As my  every day glasses enjoy their burial at sea today, I am frustrated beyond belief.

Yes.. I found spares. 

Old pairs of them.

In hard, soft, and impossible to open cases. 

Probably  more than a half a dozen or so, hiding in my handbag, top drawer in my end table, even  in an old beach bag.

( I never denied being a hopeless hoarder) 

The issue  is.. ever since we drove home from the beach , as I admired all the blobs and blurry landmarks that dotted the highway , I tried on all the spares and it’s turned into one long and horrifying day at the ophthalmologist.  

( and screw you, autocorrect!! I knew how to spell that without your interference!)

What’s better?? 

The opaque frames or the pinkish ones?

Are images clearer with the oval lenses or the rectangles?

A or B??

I have no freaking idea!! 

They ALL give me very clear/ very unclear vision. 

I have no idea what’s the better option and it’s too much pressure to force me to choose the best pair.

They’re all great.

They’re all awful.

I’ve never seen this clearly and poorly at the same time. 

Any volunteers to dive into the cold waters between nineteenth and sixteenth streets in Belmar to find my original frames??

You know, the ones Jim krazy-glued a few months ago when a lens went AWOL without warning?? 

I can’t see too well out of them either, but at least I was familiar with them. 

I can’t read small text with them or subtitles in movies theaters where I fall asleep, but at least they were… there. 

I’m going to change glasses as much as most people change underwear this week. 

Hopefully, nobody will notice..