Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Easter Parade

Revised and revived from the archives

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) This song is best known from the 1948 movie of the same name, but it was originally written for a 1933 Broadway play called As Thousands Cheer. In the play, a young man reads about the parade in a New York newspaper and decides to go and show his lady love off to parade goers. What's the most recent parade you attended? The No Kings protest in October. I wish I could have gone last weekend, too, but my Connie Cat was sick and I took her to the vet.

2) On Broadway, the song was performed by Clifton Webb. He'd had a busy stage career, appearing in musicals as well as plays by Oscar Wilde and Noel Coward, but when he was in his mid-50s, he was considered too old to be a leading man. Broadway offers stopped coming. He was unexpectedly cast by Otto Preminger for the film noir Laura and a new career was born. He worked steadily in Hollywood for 20 years and earned three Oscar nominations. Tell us about a time you were grateful your life took an unanticipated turn. In 2013, I attended my first meeting with classic film group. It was a lark. I had no idea I would meet friends for life there. There's just something about being surrounded by people who love what you love.

3) Today he's fondly remembered by the students at UCLA who have benefited from The Clifton Webb Scholarship of the Arts. If you could give an endowment to a school or charity, what would you like it to be used for? I would make funds available for pet owners who can't afford veterinary care. According to Capital One, the average American pet owner spends more than $2,000/year on their furry companions. What happens if an owner loses his job, or his dog or cat requires expensive surgery? I'd like to help them out.

 

4) The biggest chocolate Easter egg was made in Italy, measured 34 feet tall and weighed a staggering 15,000 lbs. Do you think it's possible to have too much chocolate? No. I suppose if I really gorged myself I might get sick, but that's never happened yet.
  

5) After chocolate, the top-selling Easter candy is Peeps Marshmallow Chicks. They're so popular that they were once the subject of a Jeopardy clue. Do you often watch Jeopardy? No.

6) Jelly beans are also popular this time of year. In a 2024 poll, jelly bean fans responded that black licorice is their favorite flavor. It's Crazy Sam's least favorite. How about you? What jelly bean flavor is at the top of your list, and which is at the bottom? Cinnamon is my fave. I gravitate toward the red ones and avoid the black ones.

7) We've been talking a lot about sweets this morning. The only holiday that generates more candy sales is Halloween. When do you eat more candy: Easter or Halloween? Halloween.

 

8) According to the National Retail Federation, Americans are doing more of their holiday shopping this year at discount "dollar stores" than at department stores like Target and Walmart. Do you often make trips to the "dollar store?" If yes, what do you usually pick up there? I go about once/month. It's the only place I can find my favorite toilet paper.

 

 
9) Easter is considered the season of rebirth. What makes you feel refreshed or rejuvenated? My morning shower.

 

 

When who you have isn't who you want

I have been completely freaked out over my cat Connie. See post below for an episodic recitation of our travails.

I love her very much. I have had to make expensive and consequential decisions about her care. Now that she's home, I have had to administer meds – something I am clumsy at. I have handled it all as best I can and I believe I've done a good job. I have reason to believe that within two weeks, she'll be fine and this will be nothing but a bad memory.

Which is not to say I couldn't have used some support. I wish this was 20 years ago. In 2006, my mom was still alive. She's the one from whom I inherited the pet gene. She would have listened to me work through my worry. She's dead now though.

In 2006, I still had Henry. He, too, was a huge pet lover, so he would have understood my panic. But here's the thing about Henry: he loved me unconditionally and would tell me I'm doing fine. Because of course I am. I miss having someone in the world who only saw the best in me. He's dead now, too.

In 2006, I still had my oldest friend. She's a crazy cat lady, like I am. Plus she could always make me laugh (don't underestimate that). But since about 2010, her life has been off the rails. She's got so much of her own stuff going on that she can't be of any real comfort to me, beyond sending me AI slop and memes. Who she is now makes me miss who she was so much. 

So I turned to my friend Elaine. She has two cats she dotes on. We just saw one another for her birthday last week on Wednesday and had a nice day. When I called, she picked up immediately and we talked for about an hour. But it's not what I wanted. Elaine can be humorless. And when I explained to her that I was overwhelmed to learn that Connie needed surgery, especially when I thought my cat had turned a corner and was doing better, she said, "You've just go to get over that." I was annoyed. I understand the wisdom in what she was saying. She's right in that Connie can pick up on my tension and fear. But as I said to her, "How do I do that, exactly?" Does she think I want to feel overwhelmed and outmatched by life at this moment?

I realize I'm not being fair to Elaine. I'm just mad at her because she'd not my mom, or Henry, or my oldest friend.

 

It now goes on for pages and pages

I began the "journal" on March 24. Nothing as formal as this photo would suggest – just little notes to self on scraps of paper about how my much loved cat Connie is doing. I knew she wasn't right, even though nothing was obviously wrong, and wanted to be able to share her symptoms with the vet. (Spoiler alert: What follows is a lot of drama, stress, expense and even some gore, but Connie is now on the mend. If you're not up for drama, stress, expense and gore, feel free to bail out now.)

On Tuesday, when I was vacuuming, I discovered the world's smallest cat turd next to the litter box. I (literally) made a note of it, hoping I was crazy. I figured this little sliver could mean one of two things: 1) one of the my cats tracked it out on their paws or 2) one of them found going in the box uncomfortable, so they went beside the box. Trust me, #2 is cat logic. 

By Wednesday I knew that Connie was not using the box regularly. Thursday she was sleeping more soundly and avoiding me and Roy Hobbs. Friday she only had one meal, not two, and didn't demand treats. Hello? Connie is a beggar. I knew at this point something was wrong.

Saturday was Vet Visit #1.  Our regular vet was happy with the color of Connie's gums and ears and liked how her eyes looked and heart sounded. But she did discover Connie was running a fever. Let's get to the bottom of this! Full bloodwork and a set of x-rays showed us ... little. My cat's organs were functioning properly, there were no masses to worry about. There was a little stool stuck in her bowel. Connie perked up after the vet gave her fluids and a shot of antibiotics. She sent me home with a bottle of kitty laxative and an appetite stimulant. She should feel better after a good night's sleep.

She did and she didn't. For a while on Sunday she was her affectionate self. Then by afternoon, she went back to avoiding me and Roy Hobbs. It's Sunday. The vet is closed.

Sunday was the Veterinary Emergency Room. I had Connie's bloodwork from the day before, so there was no reason to redo it. She had no fever. This vet took more x-rays, different angles. He found nothing but that same stuck poop. It was so small, he said, he didn't think an enema was warranted. He gave her fluids and a vitamin shot to perk her up and sent us home with a few cans of cat food especially for cats with gastrointestinal issues and advised me to continue dosing her with the laxative our regular vet prescribed.

Monday she was fine! Tuesday she was fine! Eating and drinking normally, interacting with Roy Hobbs as usual, demanding treats and tummy rubs from me. She even used the litter box, though her stool was loose. Still, there was much rejoicing.

Wednesday was Vet Visit #3. It was supposed to be a quick follow up at our regular vet clinic – though not with our regular vet. Our usual doctor had begun a vacation, but her back up was there. Vet #3 checked Connie's eyes, ears, gums and heart. All good. Then she lifted Connie's tail to take her temperature.

Oh. My. God. So much dried blood, so much fresh red blood, all around her anus. It was not there Wednesday morning. I know it wasn't because walked over this very computer keyboard, tail proudly in the air, trying to distract me from end-of-the-month bill paying. 

What the hell! She never goes outside, so it wasn't likely a cut. If one of her internal organs had gone flooey, why didn't it show up in her bloodwork or in any of her x-rays? And why was she so damn happy? 

Well, now we know. She had been suffering from an infected anal gland and it ruptured. The way Vet #3 explained it to me, Connie had a cyst just inside, where we couldn't see. Because it was in her soft tissue, it didn't show in the x-rays. Because it didn't affect her organs it wasn't reflected in her bloodwork. But as pimples will, it hurt. That's why she wasn't herself for the past week. That accounted for the fever. Now that it broke, it was gross and bloody and all, but she felt so much better.

Yay! So why doesn't my "journal" end here?

Because the rupture tore her skin and there was likely a ton of pus (though not visible to us) in the wound.

Thursday was surgery. Vet #3 said it really wasn't complex at all. After anesthesia, she shaved Connie back there, cleaned everything thoroughly, and stitched her up. Yes, she required quite a few stitches. Which means – THE CONE!

It's imperative Connie not, you'll pardon the phrase, lick her wound. Even though it is her nature to keep that area clean herself, she can't. Hence THE CONE. She hates THE CONE. 

It makes her bump into things. Or she intentionally bashes it into things to try to get away from it. Roy Hobbs doesn't quite recognize her in it, and there's been hissing. Oh, and there's this: THE CONE has revealed me to be the world's worst housekeeper. At one point, when Connie was manically scooting around under the sofa, the scooped up a discarded dryer sheet and a strip of used packing tape in THE CONE. 

So for now she's living in my bathroom. It's tiny. It's clean. It's quiet. Tomorrow is Saturday. I'll try letting her out again and we'll see if, after two full days in THE CONE, she has adjusted. Vet #3 said it often takes four or five days for cats to stop fighting it. Maybe Connie will be my Easter Miracle and just saunter around tomorrow or Sunday.

A week from today – April 10 – we return to Vet #3 for a check up. Here's hoping THE CONE can come off, though it's not likely. I should just buckle up and accept that THE CONE will probably be a two-week affair. (I just ordered a back-up, fabric cone from Amazon, in case she slips out of this one.)

Now for the money. How much has all this cost? I don't know. I'm not looking until this adventure is done. I mean, why? I know I'm going pay it anyway, no matter what, and I don't want to stress myself out. 

Fortunately, late last year, Discover sent me a "we miss you" promotional offer of 0% APR through August, and I'm taking mad advantage of that now. So I have four months to pay it down, and what I can't pay off, well, I have an "emergency CD" with funds for times like this.

Last fall. Joanna went to London. Over the holidays, Jamie went to Peru. Elaine just took a trip to Paris. Me? I've seen three different vets. But I feel fortunate that I'm able to give Connie the care she deserves without having to weigh the financial implications. I know pet parents have to do that all time, and it must be wrenching. 

 

Photo by Jakub Żerdzicki on Unsplash 

April 2 - Gratitude Challenge

I am joining Kwizgiver in this. That's even her graphic I stole! In her words, "This isn't about perfection or keeping a streak. It’s just about noticing." I need to focus and, in using shrink's word, "unhook" 

The Prompt: One thing you can hear, and one thing you can touch.

I'm a day behind. But according to Kwizgiver, that's okay. And she'd know because she's the creator of this challenge. 

Hear: The old-school box fan in my bedroom window. The technology is more than 100 years old, and yet it's still a good way to pull cool air from outside and make my sleep more comfortable. It feels more gentle than turning on the a/c.

Touch: Both of my alarm clocks. Yeah, I said "both." I have a rather pretty teal clock that gives me a polite beep-beep-beep. Then there's the big-ass black clock with the bell on top and a clang that could wake the dead. They are both battery operated. Like the fan, I prefer the old-school feel. I don't want to wake up to an alarm on my phone (which I would forget that I set or I set incorrectly and would go off when I don't want it to). I appreciate how low-tech my approach is.

Thursday Thirteen #457

Zzzzz ... When I started working from home during the covid lockdown, I discovered the joy of an afternoon nap. Instead of eating my lunch – which I could do during meetings with the camera off – I'd spend 45 minutes in bed, in my jammies, under the covers. It's a habit I've continued to this day.

Here are 13 things I've learned about napping from The Mayo Clinic, other sites, and personal experience.

1. Napping helps you relax. At first this seemed counter-intuitive. How can I nap when I'm keyed up? But I've found it helps to, in the words of John Lennon, "turn off my mind, relax and float downstream."

2. Naps can improve performance. As can any short break. When I was working, I found I was more productive after my little snooze, but also lunch.

3. Some people report greater manual dexterity, resulting in fewer workplace accidents, after a nap. 

4. Naps may help with pain. President Kennedy used to schedule short naps in the afternoon because staying seated in long meetings aggravated his bad back, and an afternoon snooze on a very firm mattress provided relief. (It surprised Jackie that he could both fall asleep and wake up so quickly, as she dozed off and rose slowly. She assumed his sleep habits were learned in the Navy.)

5. You may feel groggy immediately after waking from a nap. I personally haven't found this, but people who went to doctor school say it's so.

6. Look in the mirror after your nap. I've found a nap can ruin a good hair day and smear eye makeup.

7. A daytime snooze can make it harder for you to sleep at night. I found this was true back in the olden days, when I would close my eyes "for a minute" after work, wake up two hours later at around 9:00 PM, and find myself still wide awake at 1:00 AM.

8. Limit naps to half an hour. OOPS! That's not me. I'm 45 mins./hour. Maybe I should look at this.

9. Hey! Wait! NASA recommends 40 minute naps for military pilots! Oh well, this is certainly not the first time I've found competing experts disagree online. 

10. Set your alarm clock. "Sorry, I was napping," is not a well-accepted excuse for lateness.

11. Though #10 may be uniquely American. In China, for example, lunch breaks can last up to two hours to accommodate an afternoon nap.  

12. Nap in the early afternoon. I try to nap before 3:00 PM, which certainly isn't early but it works with my schedule. Napping later in the day can interfere with your sleep overnight. (See #7.)

13. Dogs and cats nap throughout the day. Dogs and cats seem pretty happy. Maybe we should be more like dogs and cats.

Where are you on the napping thing? 

 

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

 

 

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? Twilight of Camelot: The Short Life and Long Legacy of Patrick Bouvier Kennedy by Steven Levingston. John F. Kennedy Jr. is having a moment, but most people don't know that, for two days, he had a baby brother. In August of 1963, Jacqueline Kennedy gave premature birth to a baby who died. It would have been the news story of the year, if her husband hadn't died in her lap just three months later.

 

This is a book I've been waiting for. For all that every moment of November 22-25, 1963, has been documented, the circumstances around Patrick's birth and death are harder to find. I can imagine how excited the nation must have been to have a pregnant First Lady. What was the press coverage like? How did we respond to the baby's death? On the personal side, how did JFK juggle the demands of the Presidency while watching his son fight for life, and then mourn him? I hope I'll get answers to these questions from Mr. Levingston. 

2. What did you recently finish reading? Kids, Wait Till You Hear This! by Liza Minnelli. Oy, this book! Much of it reads like science fiction. At one point, Liza is legally married to a gay man (Peter Allen) while engaged to a younger man (Desi Arnaz, Jr.) and then announces she's going to marry an older man (Peter Sellers). I know it happened. I remember the newspaper photo of Liza and Peter Sellers giving a press conference from a lawn somewhere. She goes on to cheat on her second husband and has a series of affairs (at least 3) with married men. I am not judging her morality. Far be it from me to do that. It's her wisdom. I don't know how she thought any of this would work out well. Her behavior would have been more comprehensible to me if, at some point, she took off on a flying saucer or chose to embark on a expedition to Middle Earth.

 

I wish I had more compassion for Liza. She had a genuinely horrific childhood with a mercurial, addicted, yet charismatic and loving mother. We've all heard about Judy Garland's demons, and living with her damaged Liza. While often clear-eyed about Mama, she insists on romanticizing her father. Director Vincente Minnelli never seems to be there for her when she needs him, even as she talks about her darling Papa in glowing terms. Example: Liza left home at 16 to go to New York and become a Broadway dancer. She was evicted from her residential hotel for non-payment of rent and ended up sleeping on a park bench for several nights. In Central Park! Then she began sofa surfing. She claims that if Papa had known any of this, he would have been beside himself. How did he not know? His 16-year-old daughter was on her own in NYC and he wasn't keeping constant tabs on her? Remember, this was before cell phones and Liza was without a phone number for weeks if not months. Later, when Garland dies and Liza finds herself in the center of a media circus at a young age, Papa refuses to come to New York for the funeral. He didn't want to be photographed with Judy's other ex-husbands. Fair enough, I suppose. But Liza recalls crying for a week straight while planning a high profile funeral and facing painful questions about Judy's drug use and possible suicide. Papa couldn't fly to New York but skip the funeral and hide out in her apartment, just to hold her hand? Frankly, he sounded like he didn't really give a shit about her. At least not until she became famous and burnished his legacy. I don't think it's an accident that in her two best movies, Sterile Cuckoo and Cabaret, she plays a girl who desperately insists she's her father's top priority, despite all evidence to the contrary.

 

Her denial about Papa. Her denial about her self-destructive behavior. She exasperated me. 

 

I respect her talent enormously. You can see her Emmy-winning special Liza with a Z for free on YouTube and it's a delight. I admire how she overcame addiction. I give her credit for revealing so much on these pages, warts and all. But she gave me a headache. 

 

I spent 900 pages with Streisand and found her far more relatable. Babs is a diva and a generational talent, but she's also a woman of bedrock sanity. She takes her faith seriously. She's grounded. Even at her most self-involved – and you have to be self-involved to write a 900-page book about yourself – I got her. I do not get Liza at all.

 

I still need to read Cher's memoir. I wonder if I'll find she's more Streisand or Minnelli.

 

3. What will you read next?  I don't know

 

  

Sunday Stealing

Random Revelations

1. Is your phone Apple or Android? What about your laptop? I'm bi. My laptop is a MacBook Air (which I love) but my phone is Android (Motorola). I would get an iPhone, except they are so expensive. I tend to break phones rather easily.

2. Can you say "thank you" in more than one language? Yes. Merci, gracias, grazie and of course ...

   

3. What do you draw when you doodle? I draw squares, and then I fill the squares in with circles.

4. Which do you enjoy more, Scrabble or bowling? Scrabble, although I am decent at both games.

5. Can you juggle? No.

6. Have you ever worn pajamas in public? Yes, but no one knows it. One of my favorite lightweight summer tops is actually part of a pajama set I got as a gift. The bottoms were too long so I ditched them, but I pair the top with jeans.

7. Was your best subject in school the one you enjoyed the most? Yes. I was very good in my favorite subjects (English, literature, social studies, history) and barely adequate in the ones I didn't like. I think I didn't like them because I don't "get" math or science. I suspect there may be some neurodivergence here, but no one talked like that back in the 1970s and now it doesn't matter anymore.

8. When you're offered the senior discount before you ask for it, are you offended or grateful? I'm grateful. Though I'm also delighted when I'm asked to produce proof of age when I ask for it.

9. Do you agree that with age comes wisdom? Yes. Is this controversial?

10. Do you consider Sunday the first day of the week or the last day of the weekend? Yes. It's both. In day-to-day life, I consider it the last day of the weekend. But when I'm figuring my budget, it's the first day of the week. Also, I'm annoyed by calendars that begin with Monday.

 

 

Saturday 9

 
Saturday 9: Indian Lake (1968)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) In this song, a family gets on a bus and heads off on vacation. Think about the last trip you took. Did you travel by car, bus, train, boat, or plane? I flew to/from Grand Rapids for Christmas with my niece and her family.

2) Once they get to Indian Lake, they swim, have a picnic and go canoeing. Are you looking forward to any of these activities this summer? None. Does that make me sound boring? 

3) "Indian Lake" became familiar to TV audiences because it was used in commercials for the Dodge Charger. In the 1960s, most households didn't have remote controls to enable viewers to mute or skip commercials. Today, we do. When a commercial comes on, do you watch or do you turn down the sound or, if possible, fast forward past it? I generally watch it. Since I was in advertising for decades. I figure it's my penance. Plus, I don't watch TV with the remote in my hands. Seems like a lot of work to locate it and figure out how to avoid the commercials. (My cousin Rose is passionate about muting or skipping commercials and never lets go of the remote, lest she hear a moment of an ad.)

4) The Cowsills were a family singing group who had four Top 10 hits between 1967 and 1969. The brothers were self taught musicians who enjoyed playing at church and school events. When their father, Bud Cowsill, became their manager, he insisted his wife Barbara and their youngest, Susan, join the band. He wanted the Cowsills to become "a latter-day Von Trapp family." Without looking it up, do you know who the Von Trapps were? The family that inspired The Sound of Music.

5) The Cowsills were the inspiration for the sitcom The Partridge Family. It ran for four seasons and the fictional Partridges had three Top 10 hits, were nominated for a Grammy and made David Cassidy a star. Are you familiar with The Partridge Family? Yes. The show was stupid but David Cassidy was dreamy. So were Donny and Bobby. Ah, the heart throbs of my pre-teen years!

I subscribed to Fave. $7/year of my own money!

6) The Cowsills starred in an advertising campaign for the American Dairy Association. On TV and in magazine ads they proclaimed that "Milk is the lift that lasts." Decades later, oldest brother Bill recalled that he seldom drank milk. How about you? Do you often drink milk? I drink a glass of chocolate milk every morning. My vitamins and meds go down easiest that way. 

7) While Bud Cowsill engineered the family band's success, he also contributed to their demise. The Cowsills were scheduled to appear 10 times on the influential Ed Sullivan Show, but were fired after the second because Bud was too confrontational backstage. He also had a reputation for being abrasive with record company executives and concert promoters, and this affected the the band's ability to find work. Do you have a hard time biting your tongue or controlling your temper? Not anymore. I reinvented myself when I started at the card shop in 2024. In my old job, I could run a tight ship and developed a reputation for getting what I wanted (that was my boss' version; I viewed it as having integrity and fighting for the best product possible). I am responsible for very little at this new job, so I'm approaching it differently. I'm all about the vibe, with my teammates and our customers. My new shift manager, Alejandra, called me a "gentle, sunny spirit." I cannot imagine any coworkers describing the 2020 vintage Gal that way. 

8) In 1968, when this song was popular, Leonard Bernstein released his award-winning recording of Mahler: Symphony No. 8. Do you enjoy classical music? No.

9) Random question – Here we are in March. If you made any New Year's resolutions, have you kept them? I promised myself I'd donate household goods and clothes once/month this year. As March ends, I've made 3 trips to the local resale shop and 1 to Goodwill, so I'm ahead. Let's hear it for The Gal!

Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash

 

 

Boomerang emotions

Happy. Sad. That's been me this past week. 

First the happy. I spent a lovely afternoon with Elaine. We celebrated her birthday by exploring the Art Institute of Chicago – she keeps trying to civilize me – and then having a fancy lunch at Remington's, a new-to-her restaurant.

I had a good shift at the card shop. Emily, my new boss, wore a Cubs hoodie to the store in celebration of Opening Day. Obviously a bond was forged.

Then I got a pair of invitations. Laura, a Los Angeleno movie lover I met at last year's TCM Film Festival, wants to know when I'm arriving in town for this year's festival. She's having a breakfast that first day and hopes I can join her husband and their friends. The second is from Bob. He and Patty are locals who also attend the TCM Film Festival. He's retiring on April 3 and this weekend his wife is hosting an Open House in his honor. 

I miss my late friends Henry and John so very much. Every day. New people can't replace them, of course, but it makes me happy to know that there are opportunities out there for camaraderie. 

Now for the sad. My girlcat, Connie, is sick. As recently as Tuesday night, she was fine. I distinctly recall her racing around, leaping and playing, after her dinner and, frankly, her evening shit. Wednesday she was quiet, eating but not at all social. Thursday I had to convince her to eat. Today I can't get her to take food or water. She doesn't want to cuddle puddle with Roy Hobbs or get a tummy scratch from me. I suspect she's constipated. I'm worried that she could become dehydrated. So tomorrow morning we have the first appointment (8 AM) at the vet. Tonight is going to be a tough night. I am so worried about my little girl. She has never been healthy. When I first adopted her, she was recovering from malnutrition. She has a heart murmur. Now she's a senior citizen – 14 years old, the equivalent of 72 in human years – and things could go south quickly.

It's such a tight rope I walk with her. Connie is so shy with strangers, so frightened of leaving the house. Taking her to the vet causes her terror so I don't want to do it unless absolutely necessary. So I waited until I knew this wasn't some passing blip. I just hope I didn't wait too long.

I love my girlcat very much. 

Photo by Mirela Vasile on Unsplash 
 

 

Thursday Thirteen #456

Well, this is random. Amazon is top of mind because they're having a Big Spring Sale. Here are the contents of 13 recent Amazon deliveries. 

1. RoC Retinol Night Serum Capsules. Only I don't use it at night. 

2. Toe separators. Okay, maybe this is weird. I noticed in the tub that the big toe on my left foot – the foot with the bunion – rubs against the next toe. Who knew that a company name Welnove makes a little blue washable toe separator?

3. Ethernet cable. It is what it is.

4. 48 tubes of lip balm. I put these in the blessing bags I give local panhandlers.

5. Small plastic litter pan. This is not for my cats. (I mean, small? For Roy Hobbs?) It was sent to an animal shelter in Kankakee for their supply drive after the March 10 tornado.

6. Nike Revolution 8 Shoes. Still breaking them in, but I'm hopeful.

7. Compression socks. Seems I'm fixated on my feet lately, doesn't it? These help with the heel pain I've been suffering due to disc issues.

8. 50 blank folded cards. I use these for my Letters Against Isolation cards.

9. Airtight cereal storage container. But not for cereal. This is to prevent Roy Hobbs from tearing into the bag of cat food, gorging himself, and throwing up. Yes, he's smart. But I have opposing thumbs and can work the latch!

10. GUM dental picks. I could have purchased these at Walgreen's, but it was a bit of a walk and the weather was challenging and I had another Amazon delivery coming anyway and oh, what the hell.

11. "This blanket is a hug to you." I had a purple one sent to my Cousin Rose after she had knee surgery. She took a selfie using it, which made me happy.

12. Organic honey and oatmeal cream. I ordered this to treat a raised red patch on my arm. I don't know what caused the rash, but this seemed to work. (I seem to respond well to oatmeal in these situations.)

13. Air purifier for the bedroom. I don't know that my air needs purifying, but it can't hurt, right?

Do you often come home to Amazon packages on your doorstep?  

 

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

 

Does she want to be alone?

I thought I was writing an inoffensive email. I was touching base with my aunt/Godmother, who has had health problems lately. I wanted to make her feel supported. I also wanted to show her a photo of Violet, my grandniece, with Violet's cousins, who had come to Michigan over Spring break to meet the baby. 

I used this TV theme song as my entrée. If you're a Boomer, you know it. Patty Duke portrayed "identical cousins," which is, of course, genetically impossible. This theme is as memorable as the show was stupid. 

I was chatty. I talked about how the lyrics to this theme were running through my head all week:

•  First with the Oscars and Sinners. I reminded her that I've been madly Oscar obsessed since I was a little girl and remain so, so naturally I saw Michael B. Jordan's winning performance for playing twins. I mentioned how amazed I am by how far the technology had come since the 1960s when Patty Duke played COUSINS, identical cousins! I asked her if she remembered the song.

•  Then with the photo of Baby Violet and her California, which I attached. I knew if it wasn't for me my aunt wouldn't see it because she has MAGA'd their mothers to death. They no longer communicate with her because my aunt is legit unable to converse without shoe-horning her hostile politics into every conversation. (Spoiler alert: she's about to do it to me. Keep reading.)

I closed the email with an update about the resolution of my problems at the card shop. I was happy to report that I'm able to sit during my shifts because of my bad back, and that Corporate HR couldn't have been nicer about it. "Of course they are. Because I'm a senior citizen and they're afraid I'll sue." I was joking, of course. I made $4,800 at this job in 2025. I'm certainly not about to sue anyone over this!

Auntie answered right away.  No mention of The Patty Duke Show, which made me sad because I was sure that shot of nostalgia would have made her smile. 

But she didn't watch the Oscars because the political posturing of Hollywood turns her off, and she doesn't want to see what the celebrities "are wearing, or most likely, not wearing." My comment about HR reminded her of "all the woke garbage" when she worked for Motorola, where "a black woman engineer was automatically golden." She liked the photo of Baby Violet and the California Cousins and said she kinda misses her only cousin, Sandy, but she hasn't heard from Sandy since last May. (Gee! I wonder why.)

She went on to detail her medical problems, which included a recent trip to the ER for vomiting and stomach pains. She's OK now, but I appreciate that this must have terrifying.

She will be 80 in May.* She is estranged from her oldest son and his kids because she can't stop being, in her adult granddaughter's words, "a racist homophobe." She has a great grandchild she's never held. My kid sister and my niece don't want anything to do with her since she called my niece and nephew "freeloaders" for their participation in Biden's tuition repayment plan. 

At least she still has me. But for fuck's sake, can't she remove her red MAGA hat for the half hour it takes to respond to my email? She didn't have to slam the Oscars, which she knows I watched and enjoyed. I gave her The Patty Duke Show off ramp. She could have just said she was happy for me, getting the stool at work. Or she could have asked what was wrong with my back. But no, she went with "the woke garbage." (BTW, I had referred to myself as "a senior citizen" because that usually makes her laugh. "You're my sweet baby niece and Goddaughter! How can you be a senior citizen?")

I have news for my Auntie. Come Mother's Day and her birthday in May, she can count on gifts from one person, and it's not Donald Trump. 

I am stubborn and I refuse to let her go. But I wish she'd stop tempting me.

I know that our President likes to chide people like me for Trump Derangement Syndrome, but it's MAGA that takes over people's lives. I don't go to the blogs of right-wingers and tell them why they're wrong, yet people have done that here. I don't tell my aunt I don't respect her beliefs, but she can't resist slagging mine. There's an inherent lack of respect, a need to make enemies out of others, that MAGA inspires. 

I can see that my aunt is lonely and I know she's not stupid. I just don't see why she can't connect the dots.

*Or maybe 79.  

 

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? Kids, Wait Till You Hear This! by Liza Minnelli. I am a big fan of (some of) Liza's work. Her Emmy-winning special, Liza with a Z, is ridiculously rewatchable. But as a personality, she makes me uncomfortable. I do not connect to her emotionally. I find her too schmaltzy, too undignified, inauthentic ... Maybe I'm wrong about her. Let's see. Besides, I find Garland endlessly fascinating, and there's sure to be a shit-ton of Judy here.

2. What did you recently finish reading? The Last Coincidence by Robert Goldsborough. A young woman that Archie watched grow up – Noreen, the favorite niece of his long-time love, Lily Rowan – is raped. The word "rape" is never used, but that's obviously what happened. The girl refuses to press charges but Archie takes matters into his own hands and confronts her attacker. Pages later, the creep is found dead. Genius detective Nero Wolfe is persuaded to solve the murder.

 

I appreciated the discretion and sensitivity used when addressing the rape. I also appreciated the way Nero Wolfe treats Noreen. Wolfe has never been comfortable around women and sex is a mystery to him. But he doesn't approach her as broken, or a victim. He respects her as an adult and a client. As a survivor of sexual violence myself, I liked Wolfe for that.

3. What will you read next?  I don't know, but I'm sure it will be non-fiction.

PS A note about The Happiness Trap by Russ Harris. I'm not including it here because it's really more of a workbook than a book. Which is not to say I haven't found it helpful. I even downloaded the worksheets!

 

  

How nice it must be

Today I wore my 2025 Paul McCartney tour t-shirt. Two different women – one in her 30s, the other in her 50s – asked me if I saw "him" last time "he" was in town. 

I thought it must be great to be Paul McCartney. He was in Chicago four months ago, yet both of these women had been aware of his concert appearances.  They both seemed certain these had been memorable shows.

He has earned a high level of notoriety and good will. I hope he knows it and enjoys it.

 

Sunday Stealing

Have You Ever ...

1) Skipped school? Depends on your definition. I malingered so my mom would call me in a sick. I left the school at lunchtime and didn't return for afternoon classes. I joined the school newspaper so I wouldn't get a last hour class and then went to the mall instead of the newspaper office. BUT I never pretended to leave for school in the morning without reaching that destination.

 

2) Lettered in a school sport? Yes. I got a letter for volleyball in 8th grade. I was a terrible player and I didn't deserve to even make the team, much less letter. But my gym teacher/coach was proud of me for trying out and I got the letter as a reward for gumption and good-naturedly riding the bench.

 

3) Made a prank phone call? Oh yes. How do kids do this now? Do they buy burner phones for this specific purpose?

 

4) Paid for a meal with coins? Often. Especially in the lunch line at the school cafeteria. Again, do kids still do this today? Do they still search sofa cushions and car interiors for coins?

5) Laughed until some sort of beverage came out of your nose? Nope.

 

 

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: London Town (1978)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) Have you ever visited London? Nope. 

2) In this song, Paul sings of encountering a London street musician playing the flute. Are there street musicians in your town? When I worked in Chicago's Loop, I saw street musicians all the time. I especially got a kick out of the kids who played drums on empty buckets. But now that I work in the quieter neighborhood I live in? No.

3) It's raining as he wanders around London. How is the weather where you are today? Beautiful! 75º and sunny. Tomorrow, however, it will be rainy and 45º. Welcome to spring in Chicago.

4) "London Town" is one of a handful of songs credited to Paul McCartney and Denny Laine, his bandmate in Wings from 1971 to 1981. They became fast friends in the mid-60s when Denny was with The Moody Blues, the band who opened for The Beatles on their final UK concert tour. Paul has acknowledged Denny's outstanding vocals and guitar playing, as well as his humor and generosity. Share the good qualities of one of your close friends. I'm soon going to see Elaine soon for the first time in more than a month, so she's top of mind. I like how independent she is in her thinking. She recently told me the story of her days as a beauty pageant contestant back in the 1970s. The pageant was to crown the queen who would ride in a neighborhood parade. She was still in her teens and entered as a joke, though her mother was thrilled and took it very seriously. Anyway, she made it to the finals, where the contestants were asked what they would say to Mayor Richard J. Daley, who ruled Chicago with an iron fist. The other girls said things like, "I'd thank him," or "I'd be so excited, I couldn't think of anything to say." Elaine said, "I'd ask him why he doesn't hire Black officers to police Black neighborhoods and Chinese officers for Chinatown." She recalls being greeted by uncomfortable silence. She lost and her mother was furious. She had no regrets, saying, "They gave me a microphone and I used it for good." That's Elaine.

5) Wings broke up in 1981 when Paul decided he was weary of touring. His kids were in school, his Beatle bandmate John Lennon had been murdered, and he simply felt more comfortable staying put and working in the studio, rather than performing live. Denny believed this would mean his role, and his financial compensation, would diminish so he quit Wings. Tell us about why you left one of your jobs. I left my first advertising job because I wanted to see what I could really do. I was a copywriter for the Sears Catalog and it was great fun and it had become quite easy, but it was formulaic. I went on to write packaging copy and marketing materials for a hair care company and loved the challenges.

6) Linda McCartney also wrote and performed with Wings. In addition to music, she is known for her photography and cookbooks. Of these three – music, photography and cooking – which do you enjoy most? Photography. I'm not especially good at it, but I do enjoy it.

7) Paul's first car was a 1964 Aston Martin DB5. He selected it himself before The Beatles went off on their first world tour and it was waiting for him when he got home to London. He drove it when he shouldn't have, as he didn't get his license until spring of 1965. When did you get your driver's license? I didn't get my driver's license until I was 30. I was always a terrible driver, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could, indeed, pass the test. Once I did, I never drove again. (And you don't want me to. I'm awful.)

8) Speaking of driver's licenses ... Last year someone bought one of Paul's expired driver's licenses at auction for $20,000. When you get a new license, passport, or state issued ID, what do you do with the old one? I have a very, very old passport around here somewhere. It's probably more than 30 years expired and I think it's a neat souvenir. My expired state IDs go into the shredder.

9) Random question – Which do you have more of: dirty dishes in the sink or dirty clothes in the hamper? Clothes.