Saturday 9

 Saturday 9: Locked Away (2015)

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

1) In this song, Adam Levine asks, "If I showed you my flaws, would you still love me the same?" Nobody is perfect. What little flaw do you have that you imagine makes you hard to live with? I'm very much Oscar. I'd drive anyone with an ounce of Felix nuts.

2) Adam sings along with R. City, a hip-hop duo from Saint Thomas. The U.S. Virgin Islands are known for clean beaches, snorkeling and diving and palm trees. Does the idea of a sand-and-surf vacation appeal to you? Kinda-sorta. I burn very easily and when the mercury rises over 85º I get grumpy. On the other hand, some of my happiest hours have been spent on the beach with a drink in my hand, gazing out onto the Atlantic Ocean or the Gulf of Mexico. (When I visited Key West, I regularly asked my friend Henry, "Which water is this?")

3) R. City are brothers Theron and Timothy Thomas. As kids they took both music and dance lessons. Would you rather sing or dance? My back is bothering right now, so I'd rather sing. Though I am a terrible singer and you don't want to hear it.

4) When they were still in their teens, the Thomas brothers left the Virgin Islands to find success in the Miami music scene. Instead of working in a recording studio, they made ends meet with jobs in retail – Theron at Kroger Grocery and Timothy at Party City. What's the most recent thing you bought at the store? (Items delivered to your door don't count.) Did you pay by cash or card? I'll be spending Saturday first getting my hair cut and then having lunch with my nephew. It will all be handled with cash.

5) They eventually found success as deejays on the Miami party circuit, but it's not what they wanted to do. The Thomas brothers realized they wanted to make their own music, not play someone else's. So after a few years they headed back to Saint Thomas, wiser and more focused. Did you ever reassess your career path? I worked hard to become a creative director and then, once I got there, I wasn't happy. I didn't like being a boss. I liked the creative control over my projects, but as "management," I was now paid to annoy people. ("Did you do your timesheets?" "I can't approve this expense report because you had breakfast at 11:00 AM and that daypart ends at 10:00.") Oh yeah, and I had to fire people, which is beyond awful. When you don't like authority, being in authority can be very uncomfortable. So I consciously decided that with my next job, I would work my way down the corporate ladder by a rung.

6) The inspiration for "Locked Away" is their parents. Their dad lost everything due to drugs, got clean, and worked long hours at menial jobs as he struggled to get back on his feet. Their mother stayed by his side through it all. After more than 40 years, they are still together today. What song reminds you of your parents? In 1965, Bobby Vinton sang a song called, "Red Roses for a Blue Lady." My mom was going through a difficult pregnancy that fall. My dad would come home with a rose and sing it to her. I don't have a lot of happy memories of my parents' marriage, but that was one.

7) Adam Levine soloed on "Locked Away." He's better known as the lead singer of Maroon 5 and for 16 seasons (including this one) on The Voice. Do you watch The Voice? Nope.

8) In 2015, when this song was popular, chef Gordon Ramsay's daughter Matilda, then just 14 years old, got her own cooking show in the UK. What were you up to when you were 14? I don't recall anything specific except that I hated high school. It was the Nixon Administration, with Vietnam and Watergate and civil rights, so I was quite disillusioned by grown-ups in general. I did love riding my bike, though. I remember traversing the path near the creek to get away from it all. I made money babysitting, so after the kids went to sleep I got paid to eat potato chips and watch The Late Show. That was the dawn of my love of classic film!

9) Random question: Do you pronounce "caramel" as two syllables or three ("car-mel" vs. "care-a-mel)? Car-mel.

 

Thursday Thirteen #488

Where have you been all my life? Almonds are my current snacking passion. I picked them up to distract me from my love of salty cheese crackers, and I'm already seeing health benefits. So I'm saluting this new alliance with ... 

 

13 facts about almonds

 

1. High fiber and good for digestion. 

 

2. Monounsaturated fats can help lower cholesterol. 

 

3. A good source of protein, making it a wise choice if you're looking to cut back on meat.

 

4. High in the antioxidant Vitamin E and can be good for skin.

 

5. Filled with magnesium, which is good for muscles and bones. 

 

6. There are reports that almonds can enhance brain health.  

 

7. Ancient Romans believed almonds enhance fertility. 

 

8. Symbolize coins and good fortune to welcome the Chinese New Year.

 

9. These nuts are not nuts. Almonds are actually seeds.

 

10. The almond tree has fragrant flowers.   

 

11. Arizona, New Mexico and Texas all grow them, but an estimated 80% of the almonds you find at the grocery store are from California.

 

12. Slivered or chopped almonds are a great addition to boost the nutrients of chicken or tuna salad (or any dish).

 

13. Environmentally conscious almond farmers reduce waste by using the shells as bedding for livestock. 

What are you snacking on these days?

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

 

$945 (Part 2)

First of all, thank you. Part 1 (below) was a long-ass post and I didn't think anyone would read my never-ending musings. But you did, and your comments were thoughtful. I am as grateful as I am surprised. You helped me feel better about scratching Reg off the list.

Country Dew mentioned my oldest friend and yes, she always seems to be in financial need. That's because she is dealing – badly – with bipolar disorder. She is, by choice, no longer seeing her therapist and has once again become a festival of fantasies and bad decisions. Since October 22, she has 1) been so upset with her housemates and landlord/lover that she fled first to a crisis clinic and then to a motel to reconnoiter; 2) pronounced that she and her landlord/lover are "happier together than apart" and decided she's no longer in a hurry to find new living arrangements; 3) declared him the cruelest narcissist she's ever met and escaped to her daughter's for a few days; 4) complained that her daughter's boyfriend/roommate is an unbearable "he-man" so she can't stay there anymore; 5) is considering returning to Chicago with her older son – even though he lives in Philadelphia, and has no job, resources or ties to Chicago, and also goes through long stretches where he is incommunicado because he doesn't feel he can handle having his mother in his life; 6) prioritized writing Beatle fan fiction about romance with George Harrison over getting healthcare, a new place to live, or finding a new shrink. All of this within exactly 20 days. It's exhausting! I realize it's even more exhausting to be her than to watch her, so I'm not unsympathetic. But all she has to do is pick up the phone and schedule another appointment with Bertha, the shrink she fired. She was better, more focused, with Bertha. I have offered many times to pay for her sessions, but she thinks she knows best how to spend her time and money. I could give some of the money to her, but I'm afraid she'd just use it for a date night with her landlord/lover or perhaps that box set of Barry Manilow DVDs. 

So that still leaves me with $945. Just sitting there. I don't have to spend it now. My friends don't know about this money, so no one has asked for it. I could spend all of it or none of it, leaving it to sit there continuing to earn interest.

But that's not what I'm going to do.

Every year, Target has a promotion: Save 10% on their gift cards. It usually runs right after Thanksgiving, presumably to maintain the Black Friday momentum.

I'm going to spend a portion of my Friend Fund on a gift card for Joanna. 

Why Target? There's a location near her home. She can use the gift card for everything from Pennzoil motor oil to La Roche Posey moisturizer. She could add canned goods to her pantry or pick up presents for those on her gift list.  

Why Joanna? First of all, she's always broke. Now 71, she still works full time but cannot get ahead. About 10 years ago, she quit her job to become an independent consultant/entrepreneur, and it hasn't worked out. At our age, and in this age of AI, she has found getting another corporate marketing job nearly impossible. 

But unlike Reg and my oldest friend, Joanna holds herself responsible for herself. She keeps trying. She recently added a new client to her portfolio: an alderman running for re-election. She's never delved into politics before but she did it and helped him win. Of course, after November 3 he didn't need her anymore, so that income stream predictably dried up. Now she's back to working the phones, trying to get incremental projects from her existing clients and making new contacts. Again, at 71 this isn't easy. 

When we had lunch together last month, we discussed cognitive decline. (Yes, suddenly, that's what my friends and I talk about.) I told her about a disturbing moment I experienced back over Memorial Day weekend 2025. I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and, instead of transferring money from the bank where I keep my savings to the bank where I have my checking account, I did it the other way. I accidentally emptied out my checking account, so I had no cash. It was only for the weekend, I still had my credit cards, so I wasn't in any danger or even real discomfort. But I felt so vulnerable!

Joanna said, "I feel that every month." I asked her if she meant because of the finances or the absent-mindedness. "Both." I was surprised. My most sophisticated friend feels insecure every month! I hugged her.

Also, unlike Reg and unfortunately, my oldest friend, Joanna is nice to me. Reg often lashed out, embarrassing me and hurting my feelings. I hung on because he controlled access to Henry, and Henry was everything to me. Also, I understood that Reg was overwhelmed and suffering. But he never apologized or changed his behavior. Similarly, my oldest friend ping pongs between depending on me for emotional support to completely ignoring me. Our relationship in no way resembles a real friendship. But Joanna is thoughtful. When we got together for her birthday last month, she had a little something for me: a classic movie-themed magnet. She was also already planning festivities for my birthday. She knows how hard that day is for me without Henry and John, and she has proactively jumped in to fill the void and make sure I feel joyful and remembered. 

I'm not the only one she's good to. Her adored Sid, the man who completely charmed her and always made her laugh, survived his recent battle with cancer but the side effect of chemo was devastating: he no longer remembers he and Joanna were lovers. All those memories were erased. He thinks she's just a nice-enough lady who calls every day and comes by a couple nights a week. Despite her heartbreak, she still calls, still has dinner with him. Sid is rather offhand with her, but his daughter understands what this costs Joanna emotionally and has thanked her regularly.*

So in a few weeks, I'll send her a Target gift card. I think $200 seems about right. Big enough to make her holidays more doable but not so large she'll feel indebted or embarrassed. (I'll be sure to mention the gift card promo to enhance her comfort level.)  Also, I'll still have money left if my oldest friend has a credible need for it.

Writing these posts has helped me work this through. I feel better going into the holidays, peaceful with this decision.  

*I hope Sid's daughter remembers Joanna's kindness when he dies. He's a wealthy man. Joanna would never say this, but I insist on keeping my fingers crossed.   

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

$945 (Part 1)

Every month or so I tuck a few dollars away in a high yield savings account. It's not much so I don't miss it but I do it regularly so it's added up. I began doing this back in 2018 when my friend Henry had his accident. I knew Henry and Reg were going to have a hard time with medical bills and I wanted to be able to help. I haven't made any withdrawals since Henry died in 2024, but I have continued making deposits. I want to be able to help my friends out if the need arises but I don't want to need them to pay me back. After all, I'm an old lady on a fixed income. 

The fund is up to $945. It's not a fortune, but I could cut a check for up $750 without blinking.* It won't go that far, but if a friend is having trouble getting their car repaired or needs to replace their window a/c, I'm their girl.

My friends don't know about this money. 

I suspect I'll be making a withdrawal soon. But here's my quandary: What to do when the person in the greatest need is an asshole?

Reg, Henry's widower, is literally homeless. After Henry died, Reg concentrated on going through Henry's things and downsizing. I would have liked to have the chance to see what was left of Henry and maybe gotten something small – a photo, a birthday card, a mug – I could treasure, but Reg is not speaking to me. He called me, quite drunk, about a year ago. I was literally in the dentist chair, having my teeth worked on, so I couldn't pick up. He kept calling. And calling. My phone kept ringing from my purse in the corner. It was embarrassing. The dentist teased me about being as popular and in demand as Taylor Swift. When I got home, I listened to all of Reg's slurred messages, "He loved you so much! Do you know how much he loved you?" I waited a few hours (remember, I had spent considerable time that day with the drill and deserved time to recover) and texted why I was unable to talk when he called. Apparently he thought I was lying, just blowing him off, and was furious with me. He blocked me on Facebook and hasn't reached out since. 

Which is fine because, well, fuck you. Reg's drinking got in the way of Henry's care. I realize that Henry's TBI was serious and my darling friend was likely never going to recover fully, but I'm still mad. I have compassion for Reg – the love of his life was now wholly dependent on him, and Reg was faced with daunting decisions on a daily basis. I get all that and I'm sorry, really I am. But he was also pickled almost all the time, and because he couldn't stay away from liquor there was always booze in the house. So Henry was always drinking, too. At least two of his subsequent hospitalizations were complicated because he was detoxing. Henry had a brain injury and was not able to make informed decisions about his alcohol intake. I blame Reg. Maybe I'm not being fair, but if Reg ever admitted his own problem or gotten help, maybe my Henry would have suffered less.

After Reg finished going through Henry's things, he put much of their stuff in storage, gave up their apartment, and took off with their chihuahua for a road trip. He needed to get away. I know he spent some time in up in Maine, where his family lives. He told our mutual friend Patrick that he intended to relocate up there, but after two months he decided to go back to South Florida.

During those months, and maybe for some time before, Reg wasn't checking email. I don't know all the details, but he lost a lot of money in automatic withdrawals. Some of it had to do with penalties for abandoning the apartment he shared with Henry: cable bills, utility bills, security deposit, etc. Then there were overdraft fees. I don't know what else was involved. None of it was illegal. He could have disputed these charges within a specified time frame. He wasn't hacked. Beyond that, I don't know all the details. 

But now, Reg and that poor dog are living in his car. Apparently they are alternately parking at Walmart amid the RVs and a campsite. (They can't stay consecutive nights at a Walmart parking lot; the things you learn!) Between his FICO score being in the toilet and all those unexpected charges/penalties from his most recent landlord, he can't get an apartment.

He's 67 years old. He is not in good health. Apparently he has been making gas/spending money driving for Uber Eats, but I don't know for sure.

I know Henry wants me to send Reg $750. Right now. This moment. Henry loved his husband. Also, you have no idea what a good person Henry was. There was never a friend or colleague or fellow parishioner who didn't experience his kindness. Even after his accident debilitated him, he supported those around him. He often wore a bracelet that said, ONE HUMAN FAMILY and that's how he lived.

But I can't. I've wrestled with this. I've prayed on it. I'm not done wrestling and praying, but right now I just can't. 

1) Reg isn't Henry. He has not always been nice to me since 2018. I know that Reg's trauma, responsibility and loss have been enormous, much greater than mine. But I did not deserve the treatment I received when Reg lashed out.

2) I haven't missed him. There are people in my life who are actually in my life who may need this money soon. 

3) He's in such a deep hole that I don't think my little "Friend Fund" would even make a dent. 

4) If I knew it would go the care of that poor little dog, I'd send it in a heartbeat. I know that dog. He's a loving little creature and he must be getting old now. But I'm not sending Reg money for cigarettes and vodka.

5) He was just in Maine. Why isn't his family stepping up? What about his friends? I wonder who else he's alienated since Henry died. There's so much going on here I don't know.

6) He hasn't asked. I know that as a Christian, that shouldn't matter. But try as I might, I often fall short. If this makes me sound petty, well, I'm guilty as charged.

This post has left me quite conflicted and sad so I just feel up to detailing the other candidates for my princely sum.

 

*I never want the balance to drop to $0.  

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

Sunday Stealing

Meaningful Questions 

1. If you could go back to any age, which would you choose and why? 35. I was in love. I felt womanly and sexy. My career had begun to take off and I felt like my life was filled with opportunities.

2. If you could snap your fingers and change any single aspect of your life today, what would you change? I'd be more organized and motivated.

3. Define a "good" or "successful" life. I consider myself successful if I go to bed comfortable in my own skin ... at peace knowing I at least tried to make the world better, even in a small way ... responsible for my own actions.

4. What's the best compliment you've ever received? In January, my nephew told me he wanted me to meet his girlfriend because I'd been such a big influence on him.

5. What's the most valuable thing your parents taught you? Depends on which parent. From my mom I got my infinite patience with furry creatures. From my dad I got my interest in American history.

Saturday 9

 
Saturday 9: One Less Set of Footsteps (1973)

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

1) Jim Croce sings that "tomorrow is a dream away." What are you dreaming about today?Nothing. Meaning, I long for some quiet time to just do whatever I want, instead of what I need to do.

2) He promises that his lover will soon hear one less voice a-talking. Who is the most recent person you spoke to? (Texts, e-mails and IMs don't count.) The vet tech, confirming that I'll be there with my Connie Cat for her Saturday morning appointment.

3) He admits that he and his lover have run out of things to say to one another anyway. Let's turn that around: Is there someone in your life with whom the conversation always flows freely? My nephew. This past week we've discussed the election, the Cubs pitching situation, the movie You Can See Everything, and whether or not grilled cheese sandwiches are enhanced by adding meat. Really, there's little I don't think we could talk about.

4) He mentions the jeans hanging upon her door. Do you often wear blue jeans? Every day.

5) As a high school student, Jim Croce was not especially interested in music. During those years he concentrated on foreign languages, especially German. Say something to us in German. Sie liebt dich, ja, ja, ja.

6) His focus changed when he got to college. That's when he joined a choral group that was chosen for a foreign exchange tour of Africa and the Middle East. When did you first travel far from home? Where did you go? My first flight was to Fort Lauderdale a few months before my 16th birthday. I went to France, Germany and Switzerland not long after I graduated from high school.

7) In 1973, when this song was popular, Norman Mailer was atop the best seller lists with his controversial biography of Marilyn Monroe. When you curl up with a book, is it more likely to be fiction or non-fiction? Of the 31 books I've read so far this year, 14 have been non-fiction.

8) Home calculators were innovative in 1973. You could choose a large desktop calculator that featured big keys and plugs into the wall, or a hand-held, battery-operated model. Today every cellphone and laptop has a calculator built in, so do you ever still reach for a stand-alone calculator? I use my calculator all the time. I have fat fingers and love those big keys.

9) Random question: Here's $100. What will you spend it on?  Remember that vet appointment I mentioned in #2? I'll put it toward Connie's bill. 

 

 

Love can heal what's broken in America

MAGA was repudiated this week in a stunning blue tsunami, and on a very personal level, I feel like I got my faith back.   

My Christianity is very important to me. Every day, I try to live in a way that would please Him. I remember that passage from the Book of Matthew: "Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters, you did for me."

So my heart sang when I listened to James Talarico, the new Senator from Texas. He delivered his acceptance speech from a podium emblazoned with LOVE THY NEIGHBOR.

"Not just my neighbor who looks like me. Not just my neighbor who prays like me. Not just my neighbor who votes like me. I am called to love all of my neighbors the way I love myself."

I've been appalled by the Islamophobia of this campaign season. Our President insisted on calling Abdul el-Sayad "Muhammed," and a "Jihadist lunatic." That's our President, ladies and gentlemen. Hearing that rhetoric from the leader of the free world makes many so-called Christians more comfortable with their bigotry. I've heard MAGA enthusiasts say, "Who or what is Ilhan Omar?" Do they really think that's how Christ wants them to speak? I guess they figure Donald Trump has given them some kind of hall pass allowing them to dismiss another's very humanity based on religion.

And oh yeah, it's unpatriotic. They ignore that the Constitution specifically prohibits the government from establishing a religion or interfering with the free exercise of religion. I don't believe our forefathers meant it was OK to be Lutheran instead of Methodist. It means we can all worship any way we wish, or not at all. 

Didn't we adjudicate this as a country in 1960? It sounds stupid now, but there were actually voters who were afraid that as our first Roman Catholic President, JFK would ignore the Constitution and instead be a puppet of the Pope. I just hope that in 60 years, another generation will hear this fear of Muslims as just as ignorant and silly.

I know that Ted Cruz, Donald Trump and JD Vance have all made fun of Talarico's masculinity. He's not their kind of man. Thank God!

I think it’s safe to say that we are tired of being pitted against each other. We are tired of being told to hate each other. It has been ten years of this kind of politics. Politics as blood sport. Politics as trolling and owning. Politics as professional wrestling. It tears families apart. It ends friendships, and it leaves us all feeling terrible all the time.

I know it leaves me feeling terrible. I hear those of the Christian right demonize and scapegoat gays and transsexuals. They claim that this is some convoluted way of protecting our children.

OK, then. How can they still support the mainstream GOP after both JD Vance and Donald Trump gave their full-throated support to the attack ad on Amy Acton? Instead of helping a victim of childhood sexual abuse heal, they applaud publicly retraumatizing her for political gain. If that's solid, red-blooded American masculinity, I'm with wimpy Talarico.

I know it's a cliche, but my best friends were gay. I miss them every day. I loved them. They behaved in a more Christian way on a day-to-day basis than those who wrap themselves in Christianity while denying my friends equal respect and equal rights. 

Oh, and while we're at it, if these holier-than-thou folks are so worried about the well-being of our children, why aren't they up in arms over the way Ghislaine Maxwell has been treated by the current administration? Convicted of sex trafficking and abusing underage girls, she was moved to a minimum security prison after meeting with the DOJ's Todd Blanche. No, MAGA doesn't care about protecting children. They're just indulging their own worst anti-gay impulses.

I could go on, of course. When MAGA clutches their pearls and gasps over "socialism" and "communism," I wonder where they were these past two years when our President slapped his name on a memorial, had banners of himself displayed on public buildings, enriched himself to the tune of billions, cast doubts on election integrity, interfered with the news networks and – most seriously from where I sit – unleashed undertrained, masked paramilitary troops on our streets. The authoritarian antics of Donald Trump as chief executive have done more damage to this country than the DSA candidates elected to Congress. (Who, by the way, haven't even been seated yet.)

Love requires that we stand between the bullies and the bullied. Love requires that we look evil in the eye and not blink. That kind of love has always been a threat to the powers that be. That kind of love is revolutionary. That kind of love is creative. Hate is predictable. Hate is boring. Hate can’t lower our energy bills. Hate can’t teach a child to read. Hate can’t build a future. But what hate can’t do, love can.

Those are the words of James Talarico. They inspire me to do better. To shake off the ugliness of the last two years. To go into the Christmas season with renewed hope. 

We can’t defeat the politics of division with more division. We can’t win that game. We have to change the game.

Read the Senator-elect's entire speech here. You will love it! 

Thursday Thirteen #487

13 great places to retire. I love where I live. My condo is a hovel but it's (mostly) mine. My neighborhood has restaurants and healthcare and shopping and a movie theater all within walking distance. A network of buses can take me from hither to yon and commuter rails literally run outside my front door. Yes, it's noisy, but it sure is convenient. I'm just a train fare away from Chicago, a world-class city! So I'm staying put.

I realize not everyone is as content as I am. I keep seeing articles about where retirees should want to go. I don't see that any of these towns offering what I don't already have, but sometimes I do imagine myself as a mysterious woman who gets off the train in a new town and starts over. I'll consider these locales as the setting for my fantasy.

These recommendations come from US News & World Report, AARP and Daily Passport. Considerations include affordable housing, transportation, access to health care and physical activity, and opportunity to social engagement.

Listed in alphabetical order. 

1. Altoona, PA 

2. Ann Arbor, MI

3. Athens, GA 

4. Boston, MA (I always felt very at home in Boston)  

5. Chapel Hill, NC

6. Charlottesville, VA

7. Denver, CO

8. Homossassa Springs, FL 

9. Midland, MI

10. Nassau County, New York 

11. Rio Rancho, NM 

12. San Francisco, CA

13. Washington, DC

I admit politics are more important to me than weather. I didn't work 45 years to spend my retirement supporting a state legislated by MAGA and election deniers. If you were moving to another town, what would you consider?

 

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

 

Dona Nobis Pacem

This year, Mimi inspires us to use our voices, to say it out loud and "Let It Be Known."

Since, like Mimi, I believe words have power, I'm saying it here: There are real, tangible benefits to peace. Living in peace enables us to be more productive. Energy otherwise wasted on self-protection and fear can be used for accomplishment and creativity.

Look at all that comes wrapped in peace!

 

 

Find other peace bloggers here. 

Sunday Stealing

Another Sunday, Another Meme

1. Do you have a business card? If yes, what's your job title? I still have at least one of every business card I was issued. They're all around here somewhere: Copywriter, Senior Copywriter, Associate Creative Director, Creative Director. Currently I am a Sales Associate (aka Shop Girl) and we don't get business cards.

2. What day of the week were you born? Friday. According to The Monkees, that means I "like the good life."

3. What vegetable do you refuse to eat? I find that corn and I are no longer compatible. Don't ask.

4. How many times have you stayed overnight in the hospital? Two and a half. Twice I was admitted and spent the night. The half? I hauled my ass to the ER late on a Saturday night and they sent me home after 8 hours of tests and lots of fluids. 

5. Do you have more piercings or tattoos? One hole in each ear. I'm very symmetrical.

6. Do you like to shop? Yes.

7. How much cash is in your wallet right now? About $30. I try to operate on cash basis over the weekend. It helps me stick to a budget.

8. Let's play MASH: Do you live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house? Apartment, though according to my mortgage papers, it's a condo.

9. Where are you in the family birth order (oldest, middle child, youngest, or only child)? Middle.

10. When you were 5 years old, what did you call your parents? Mommy and Daddy.

 

"Yer OUT!"

After just over 3 months of sessions, my oldest friend has fired her therapist. This makes me sad. Bertha had been making progress, and I believe my friend is more fragile without her. Plus, I was relieved that she was depending less on me and more on a trained professional with knowledge of her situation.

I found out about this in a flurry of overwrought texts when I was in Grand Rapids visiting Violet. Because that's how my oldest friend rolls. It's like she has a sonar that can tell when I'm really happy and that's when she implodes.*

She was in a motel. She ran away from her housemates because Robert, her landlord and on-again/off-again lover, "has directed some awful, humiliating comments" her way. This is important because she is not in any physical peril. This is a romance gone wrong because he is still seeing other women and since they live under the same roof, she knows all about it. Anyway, first she went to a crisis center in tears and they assigned her a social worker and advised she not go home in her current state. Since she has no friends out there, and her daughter was on vacation with her dad (my friend's still-hated ex-husband), she checked into a motel.

She also sent me a screen shot of paperwork she gave them at the crisis clinic. My name appears. I am to call them if she seems suicidal and they will head over for a wellness check. Oh, for fuck's sake. I am 2000 miles away and in a different time zone. I don't often see these texts until hours later. I can't be her "back up!"

I asked her where Bertha was. After all, I have no good advice to ever give anyone about romance. But Bertha seemed to making real headway with my friend. Since working with Bertha, she reported that she had "booed her last hoo" over Robert, was looking to find alternate housing, and had begun exploring volunteer opportunities at the local library and Red Cross to get her out of the house, out of her own head, and interacting with others.  

She's not seeing Bertha anymore. She can't afford it. I repeated what I've been telling her – her mental and emotional health are important and I'll pay Bertha. OK, no, it's not really the money. She switched her story to say that Bertha is only a LCSW, a licensed clinical social worker, and my friend believes her problems are too sophisticated and complex for Bertha.

I am, of course, crying "shenanigans" here. I have known my friend since Kindergarten. When the going gets tough, she caves. Bertha obviously gave her advice she didn't like, or perhaps held her responsible for the decision to resume sleeping with Robert. Or perhaps pointed out – as my friend's daughter and I both have – that Robert's motive could very well be practical and financial rather than romantic. She pays him rent, he gets voucher money from the State of California for giving her a break on housing, and she is the only one of the housemates who is physically able to help out around the house. Yes, I believe that he slips it to her every now and again to keep her in love and in line. 

So no more Bertha. But she is back with Robert. Last night she sent me a picture of the curtain going up on a performance of Sweeney Todd. Yes, she and Robert are celebrating Halloween with a night out. So much for him being a cruel narcissist. That was last week. Now they realize they are "happier together than apart." However today (Saturday) she is off to stay with her daughter in Los Angeles for a few days because Robert spends his Saturdays and Tuesdays with his "real girlfriend" and that is too depressing for her. I see that this situation is untenable, even though my friend does not.

No more talk of volunteer work. No more talk of alternate housing. I asked her about her spiritual journey but she brushed it off, explaining that she no longer believes in God because He hasn't shown her the way to go. I started to tell her that faith doesn't work that way – that a bluebird won't appear outside your window if God wants you to stop sleeping with your landlord. But I gave up. She's not open to hearing it.

I am completely dispirited as I post this. I will be 69 in a matter of weeks. My friend turns 70 in December. We known one another since 1962. I can't tell you how many conversations we've had about, "WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME?" It took me until I was 30 to learn that when I say to myself or others, "Oh, he doesn't mean it," he really does. That I can't make a man love me through the force of my will or love. That lovers come and go but good friends are forever. That the most solid, lasting and fortifying relationship I will ever have is with God. 

Life has taught her none of these things. She is sick in body (depression, diabetes, heart disease, chronic UTIs) and soul. I can't help her. I am not equipped. And I am sick, too. Sick of the ennui.

*Yes, I know it's not about me. I realize it's only a coincidence, and my friend isn't thinking of me at all as her chaotic life goes off the rails. But I'm not going to lie: I resent her timing, no matter how unintentional, enormously.

 

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: I've Written a Letter to Daddy (1962)

Unfamiliar with this week's featured song? Hear it here.

 

1) This song is from Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, which was released on Halloween Day, 1962. Do you like scary movies? Scary, yes. Bloody? No.

 

2) The "Baby Jane" of the title is Baby Jane Hudson. Jane was a child star, singing and dancing in vaudeville. She was so popular that Baby Jane dolls sold well at her shows. Tell us about one of your favorite childhood toys. I loved Lassie like no other. She's still up in my closet somewhere.

 

3) Baby Jane's career hit the skids when she hit her teens and audiences no longer found her cute. Adolescence can be a tough time for many of us. Did you ever go through an awkward phase? Beginning in junior high through high school. I was always OK socially, always had lots of girlfriends, but I never felt pretty. I finally came into my own in my early 20s. Though in my heart, I'm still often that girl.

 

4) Meanwhile, Jane's older sister Blanche blossomed into a beauty and became a major movie actress. Her career was cut short when, at the height of her popularity, her back is broken in a car accident involving a drunken Jane. Most of the movie takes place in the mansion Blanche bought back when she was a star. Blanche is confined to a wheelchair and completely dependent on Jane, who is bitter, jealous, and well, bonkers. Very bad things happen. Can you think of another movie where scary things happen in a big old house? Psycho gave us a two-fer: a scary motel with a big, scary house behind it.

 

Oh, that Norman Bates was one scary dude.

5) As a (crazy) older woman, Jane convinces herself she can relaunch her career and recapture the love of the public. She dresses like she did as a little girl and makes up her face to look like those Baby Jane dolls that were sold long ago at her childhood performances. Then she rehearses this week's song. The result is so memorable that now, more than 60 years later, you can still find "Baby Jane" Halloween costumes online. Tell us about a Halloween costume you really enjoyed wearing. Decades ago I went as Harpo Marx. It was a pretty easy costume: a man's boxy overcoat, a curly blond wig, a hat, and a bike horn. I had such a good time using that horn instead of words! I wonder if anyone today would even know who Harpo was.

 

6) Which kind of spooky movie villain do you find scarier: supernatural monsters (Dracula, Wolfman, ghosts, etc.) or human monsters (Baby Jane, Michael Meyers from the Halloween franchise, etc.)? I'm more afraid of human monsters. 

Questions inspired by Halloween ....

7) Orange and black are the traditional Halloween colors, with orange representing the autumn harvest and black symbolizing all things scary and mysterious. Are you wearing either color as you answer these questions? Nope.

8) Jack-o-lanterns originated in Ireland, though instead of pumpkins, they carved gourds. When Irish immigrants arrived in the US, they used pumpkins because they were more readily available. Did you decorate your home with a jack-o-lantern, or anything else, for Halloween? Nope, though if you did, I'm grateful. We sold a lot of Halloween decorations at the card shop where I work.

9) Think back to your trick-or-treating days. Which candy were you happiest to find your bag? Mary Janes! They were very chewy peanut butter and molasses candies. My older sister hated them and so we would trade. Mary Janes are no longer readily available at the checkout counter, which is probably just as well since they would be killer on my dental work.

 

 

 

My contradictory nature

I don't like travel. I like airports. I like hotels and waking up somewhere new. I just don't like the actual travel thing – the literal moving from hither to yon. This washes over me when I think about how much I enjoyed my little trip to Grand Rapids to visit my niece and Baby Violet.

O'Hare recognizes Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It was a lovely display, especially as the daylight shines through. I also saw another lovely display. As I was checking in, I noticed a young couple saying goodbye. That was quite a hug! Such sad faces. Were they breaking up? Was one of them moving away for a career opportunity in a shitty economy? Had they just fallen in love when one came to Chicago on vacation, and now vacation is over? 

I've become so appreciative of Gerald R. Ford International Airport. Yes, it's a small airport. But it's laid out very well and the employees have been uniformly helpful. As one who spent decades flying in and out of EYW, I promise you this is not always the case. I also like the visuals. There are installations inspired by Alexander Calder and the architecture itself is pretty cool. 

I was very happy and comfortable at one of the airport hotels. In fact, I insisted. Both my niece and her husband work full time. They have two cats and a most active toddler. They don't need me underfoot, and they certainly shouldn't have to bother with the guest room.

It gave me an opportunity to observe the hotel staff, which is like a little village within a town. The guy who drives the airport shuttle, the front desk staff, housekeeping, the breakfast host ... I had trouble with the heat and, at about 11:00 PM, I padded down to the front desk. A lone middle-aged woman was manning the post. Two girls were lounging around the lobby, a twenty-something with an iPad and a  grade schooler with a Barbie. The girls were the oldest and youngest of the hotel employee's six children, "keeping Mom company." What a little snapshot of domestic life I got in that moment.

Now, for the star of our show. Little Violet is a most extraordinary 16-month old. She looooves books and has a small bookshelf all her own. She will grab a book, bring it to you to read with her, and then just drop it on the floor when she's done. They simply cannot convey to her the importance of putting things back. I am the same way.

Like Violet's, only she stacks her books 2 or 3 deep.

 

They have two cats. The skinny black one gives her wide berth and she seems to respect that. But the big black and white one with the bum leg – he is like her brother. They are always together and she shares her toys and books with him. I am the same way.

Where Violet and I differ is in our eating habits. We dined in a restaurant together. She is fascinated by utensils and almost - but not quite – understands their use. Example: she was served mac and cheese. She then took her spoon and added some of her mother's Ranch dipping sauce to her pasta. Not my culinary choice, but it was artfully done. Then she proceeded to abandon the spoon and eat with her fingers. She enjoyed it thoroughly and needed a bath when we got home. She takes swimming lessons and was proud to show off her willingness to lie back in the water. 

In the backyard we were one again. She played for a moment on the slide because it seemed to make us happy, but she was all about her swing. The look on her face as she flew through the air! I am the same way.

  

Happy Birthday, Kwizgiver

May your day be full of sunshine, books and iced coffee.

Do you read my blog buddy, Kwizgiver? If you don't, you should. Find her here. And while you're there, you can wish her a happy birthday.

 

Thursday Thirteen #486

 I have a theory. I believe the names we get at birth help determine our fate.The popular girls of my school days had the popular names. They were always Linda and Nancy, never Phyllis or Eunice. 

Of course, this brands me as a late-boomer. Names go in and out of fashion. Here are the popular baby girl names of the 50s, when my classmates were born.

Courtesy of Good Housekeeping and the website Kate Knows.

1. Linda

2. Mary

3.  Lisa

4.  Elizabeth

5. Sharon

6. Sandra

7. Nancy

8. Julie

9. Cynthia

10. Barbara

11. Patricia

12. Kimberly

13. Kelly 

Think back on your school days. Who were the popular girls? Do you see their names on the above list?

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