Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Sara Smile (1976)

 

1) This was Hall & Oates' first #1 hit. Can you name another of their popular songs? My favorite: "She's Gone." 

 

 

 

 
2) Darryl Hall and Sara Allen were a couple for 30 years, and he wrote this at the beginning of their long relationship. That makes this a very public love letter. Are you good at writing love letters? Would you rather tell the person how you feel, face to face? Or do you let your actions speak louder than your words? Yes, I can write a good love letter. I just need the right inspiration. Sigh. I once received a "love email" that I carried in my purse for years. He wasn't a particularly skilled writer, but there was so much heart in it. I wonder if there's anything such thing as a "love text." Would it say, "I LUV U" and end with an emoji?

 
3) In the song, Darryl and Sara are waiting for the sunrise. Did you see the sunrise this morning? Or did you sleep in? It's pre-dawn as I answer these questions. I have a feeling I'm going to crash soon, which means missing the sunrise.

 
4) Both Hall & Oates hail from the Philadelphia area. Hall is a native of suburban Pottstown, which was a stop on the Reading/Philadelphia rail line made famous in Monopoly. Do you like playing board games? Sure.

 
5) John Oates grew up a few miles away from Pottstown in North Wales. Decades ago, North Wales' biggest employer was a cigar factory. Do you like the smell of a cigar? For a moment or so, because it reminds me of my favorite grandpa. Then I want to get as far away from the smoke as I can.

 
6) Daryl Hall now hosts a music show, Live from Daryl's House, that you catch  free online. Do you typically watch shows from your computer, pad, phone or TV set? My TV. I tend to multitask, farting around on the laptop when the TV is on.

 

7) Hall & Oates are currently on tour. Are you seeing/have you seen a concert this summer? Nope. I feel kinda bad that I'm going to miss Streisand next month. Seeing an icon like her isn't a concert, it's an event! But money is tight right now and I've got to be smart.

 

8) Daryl and John have been friends for 50 years, even living together at the beginning of their careers when money was tight. Another successful duo of the rock era, Simon & Garfunkle, also met as teens but they forever seem to be feuding. What do you think makes for a lasting friendship/partnership? Acceptance. Giving the other person the benefit of the doubt and remembering we're each doing the best we can. And laughs! Laughter can get us through a lot.

9) Random question:  Are you quick to try new things? As time goes on, less so. I should push myself more.

 

The best fried chicken in Chicago?

Chicago Eater says about Roister's is definitely near the top, and after having dinner there Thursday, I heartily agree. And it wasn't just fried chicken. There was seared chicken and chicken salad. And it was wonderful.

So were the sushi and pasta/clams we shared as an appetizer.

The best thing about the dinner, though, was seeing Barb look so good. Her skin and hair were glowing. And she was on time! In the decades I've been dining with her, she's never been on time before! Retirement definitely agrees with her.

I was surprised to see her flat as a little boy. Yes, of course I knew she'd had a double mastectomy. But I never really thought about her figure before and she does look different. Relaxed, younger and flat. She's having a second reconstructive surgery -- with up to 8 weeks of recovery (!) -- on Monday.

She was full of news. She and John are building a home near Hilton Head. Sprawling, near but on the water and within walking distance of a forest preserve, which will be perfect for walking the dogs.

They are selling their Chicago home in spring. She is moving away.

I'm trying not to feel abandoned. In fact, I literally blurted, "I feel like you are abandoning me." She laughed and told me I'm welcome to stay in their guest room any time.

Again, the difference in our finances hit home. I mean, here I am, sitting in a condo that needs a lot of work. Waiting to hear how much this year's special assessments -- new elevator and bed bug treatments -- will add up to. Despairing my dirty carpet and mottled living room wall and oh! that bathroom! Wishing, wishing I could pay for it all. Wishing, wishing I didn't have so much debt, so I could wouldn't have to worry everylastingly about job security.

Then there's Barb. Her 3BR home is paid for. Their renovated 2BR/2BA condo in Hilton Head is a nice vacation home but simply two small for all their stuff. So now they're building a third place. Both happily retired.

"Compare and despair." That's what my oldest friend's shrink tells her. I must remember that. Barb's life is Barb's life. Mine is my own and will unfold the way it's supposed to.

In the meantime, I must concentrate on how good she looks and feels, and say a little prayer that this reconstructive surgery isn't as painful as her previous one was.

Strangely comforting

The Tribune's wonderful Mary Schmich ran this 50-year-old front page alongside her column, stating, "It's a time of shootings and protests, shouting and hatred, distant wars that are too close to home and everywhere, it seems, fear. But confusion, violence and fear are hardly new, and if they feel more acute in some moments than others, there's no reason to think they're worse than ever now. For a little perspective, take a look at Chicago 50 years ago."

Oh, how I remember the "search for mass slayer." He turned out to be Richard Speck, the bogeyman of my girlhood. On July 14, 1966, he talked his way into a dormitory and killed 8 of its 9 occupants. The 9th, Corazon Amurao ("hidden survivor" referred on the front page), escaped slaughter by hiding under the bed. From the time the murders were discovered till Speck's capture, I was terrified. There was a thick evergreen bush under my bedroom window and I was certain he was hiding there, waiting to kill my family in our sleep.

I also remember the the riots. Race riots. "Police brutality" and "Daley cops" were the phrases that floated into my consciousness (and would become part of the nation's vernacular during the infamous 1968 Democratic Convention).

Add to that the continuing Vietnam War, which was in the newspapers and on TV every night. DMZ (demilitarized zone) was the buzzword of the summer. My favorite uncle was still "in country" that summer, so those stories were disturbing, too.

It was all personal, painful and overwhelming to the 8 year old Gal. Just as the summer of 2016 feels personal, painful and overwhelming to the 58 year old Gal.

But, as Ms. Schmich says at the end of her column, "50 years after that awful July week in Chicago, as we struggle with the problems and fears of the present, it's useful to remember that we're not the first to struggle. We won't be the last. Chicago, always changing, will survive."

I have been there!

I immediately recognized the woodwork

Today Hillary gave an important speech about race and she chose the venue well. Illinois' Old State Capitol is where Lincoln gave his House Divided speech, where Barack Obama announced his run for the Presidency, and then returned to introduce Joe Biden as his running mate.

I have had happy times visiting that venerable Springfield landmark -- as a school girl, on trips with my oldest friend and playing tour guide to my nephew. I was supposed to go last month with John, but his illness prevented it. Hopefully we will try to make the trip in spring 2017.

John -- like all my friends of color -- is 100% with Hillary. In fact, before he checked himself into the hospital in May, he reassured me, only half joking, that he had no intention of dying until he voted for Hillary for President. So I look forward to walking the Old State Capitol halls with him.

The speech was important to me because she named the names. She gave proper respect to the five police officers killed in Dallas -- Brent Thompson, Lorne Ahrens, Patrick Zamarripa, Michael Smith and Michael Krol. She also named Philando Castile, the St. Paul school employee shot to death during a traffic stop.

Most important to me, she remembered to name Laquan McDonald and Sandra Bland. Those two deaths have left a raised bruise on Chicago.

"There is too much violence and hate in our country. Too little trust and common ground. It can feel impossible to have the conversations we need to have to fix what's broken," she said. Thinking back on the last year, I realize the willingness to have this conversation is what my black and Hispanic friends have pointed to in explaining their consistent support for Hillary. Right now, those friends don't really care about climate change, tuition reimbursement, or reforming Wall Street. To the POC in my circle, concern about those things* feels like a luxury.

Clinton went on to invoke Abe and his commitment to economic equality. "He deeply believed everyone deserved – in his words – ‘a fair chance in the race of life.'"

She also said that now the GOP is in danger of changing from The Party of Lincoln to The Party of Trump. That sentence alone should make everyone want to support her. As a nation, we simply cannot have that man in the White House, and this obviously imperfect woman is now our last line of defense.

Meanwhile, back in the Old State Capitol: Hillary grew up in suburban Park Ridge. I wonder how many times in the long-ago 1950s she went down to Springfield as a girl. I wonder if it ever occurred to her that she'd give a speech in Lincoln's shadow en route to the Presidency.

*As well as my my priorities: protecting the separation of church and state and a woman's right to choose.

Good News!

I went to the doctor Monday and got good news: She thinks I'm doing "just fine."

I'm glad, because I was obsessing. While my gut's been pretty consistent lately, it's not the way it was before my long bout with c. diff. I was worried. My doctor is not.

I do, however, need to go back in November or December for more tests. It's a reminder that that c. diff is serious. Obsessing is not good, but that doesn't mean vigilance is bad.

KB!

I found tonight's All Star Game kinda boring because it doesn't really count. Yes, the winning league gets home field advantage in the World Series, and this year that might actually have an impact on my Cubs, but that feels like a long way away. My guys are tired and banged up and more than an NL win, I want them to enjoy a few well-deserved days off.

So while I was excited about the All-Star voting, and was happy to see my wonderful team so honored, little about the actual game gripped me.

Except this.

THIS WAS YUMMY! Kris Bryant's first at-bat in the All-Star Game, opposite White Sox ace Chris Sale (!), and he sent it sailing out of the park.

Awesome Chicago Tribune photo capturing the moment

Thinking a lot about a lot of money

Back on 6/21, I sent my friend Barb a check for $850. This covers our theater tickets for 2016. It was hard for me to scrape it together. But I owe it to her, she's newly retired, and she probably needs it. I mean, that's a lot of money, right?

Wrong.

The check still hasn't cleared! She mentioned it in passing last week, so I know she received it.

$850 is more than my monthly mortgage payment, and it's rattling around in the bottom of one of her purses.

The disparity in our financial situations really bothers me. This week I'm taking her to Roister, Chicago's hot new restaurant, for her birthday. I'm happy to do it, because she's having another round of reconstructive surgery and this will be one of her last nights out before she's off her feet for a while. Plus, she's a foodie, and their chicken is already the stuff of legend. I wouldn't be surprised if the bill reaches $200.

As a gift, I got her a wine bottle thermometer/cuff, an unbreakable wine glass and a little bag of bath salts. It's to encourage her to lay back in the tub and relax, and concentrate on herself now that work is behind her. I put a lot of thought into it, but the price tag was less than $30.

I know she'll say she appreciates it, but I worry that it will look like nothing to her. 

This isn't the first time I've noticed that money doesn't mean to her what it does to me.  And it's one of the things that hurts me that may be self inflicted.

I just wish I saw me through Barb's eyes. I wonder how she sees our relationship. What does she get out of it? How does she view me? After 20+ years, I probably should be able to answer that, huh? Maybe I'm just having a low self-image day, and I'm sick of worry about money.

Deserve this, Bernie

My nephew said something to me Saturday that I keep replaying, and it makes me tear up a bit.

Bernie Sanders has touched a very deep chord with my nephew. Too young to legally make campaign contributions, he's pitched in by buying up as much Bernie merchandise as he can afford, with his own allowance. He reads about the campaign obsessively. He tries to convince his more conservative classmates of the error of their ways. He's attended rallies. In short, he's represented for Bernie every way a high school kid can.

He had planned to spend his July and August volunteering for Bernie at the local headquarters. Because of how the campaign unfolded, the local HQ never materialized. He's trying to make peace with this. He's trying to maintain his enthusiasm for the process.

In January I gave him Making of a President 1968, which he's finally finished.

"Bobby Kennedy never got to be President," my nephew said, "but he lives on in you. Maybe I can keep working for Bernie like that."

Bobby Kennedy lives on in you. I never thought about it that way, but it's true. And it's beautiful.

Maybe I can keep working for Bernie like that. The way Sen. Sanders comports himself this week is very important. I hope he continues to earn the place he has in my nephew's heart.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Movie Nut's Meme 

WELCOME TO MY WHEELHOUSE! Movies are one of my favorite things.

What was you first movie-going experience without your parents? A re-release of the original Disney Parent Trap. I was with my oldest friend. Her mom was in the hospital and her dad dropped us off at the movie while he went to visit her. 4th grade, perhaps?

Do you still buy DVDs or Blu Rays (or do you just stream them)? I haven't bought a DVD in a while, but I don't stream, either. (Buffering makes me crazy!) I DVR things.

What is your guilty pleasure movie? What about it works for you? Oh! Valley of the Dolls. I adore it because it's clearly an expensive movie, but it's sooooooo tacky. I love it so very much. In fact, I may watch this trailer again, just to hear Patty Duke scream, "NEELY O'HARA!" and to see her snatch Susan Hayward's wig.

You have compiled a list of your top 100 movies. Which movies do you like, but would not make the list? You're asking me for my 101st and 102nd favorite movie? I've never tabulated it that way.

Which movie(s) do you compulsively watch over and over again? What makes it so great? The Way We Were. (If you didn't see that answer coming, you don't visit this blog often.). Babs makes it great. As does the message that to thine own self we must be true.

Classic(s) you're embarrassed to admit you haven't seen yet? Vertigo. I'm told it's Hitchcock's masterpiece and I am a huge fan of the Master of Suspense. Yet somehow I keep missing it. I think maybe because I don't like Kim Novak.

Do you have any movie posters hanging on your wall? If yes, which ones and why? Not currently. But I do have old Hollywood glamour shots dotting my hallway and a poster of Marilyn Monroe on my bedroom wall.

Tell us about a movie that you are passionate about. Psycho. It's so well made. It's so daring, especially for the time it was made. Every time I see it, I discover something else and am impressed anew.

What is a movie you vow to never watch? Why? Any movie that puts money into Mel Gibson's pocket. I won't support anti-Semitic, racist misogynists. (I'm funny that way.)

Tell us about a movie that literally left you speechless. The most recent one was Gravity. I don't like the idea of infinity and weightlessness and floating uncontrollably. Just thinking about that movie is making me uncomfortable again. Which, I think, means it a very good movie.

What’s a movie that you always recommend? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Behold the two coolest men ever.

Who is an actor you always watch, no matter how crappy the movie? I like movie stars, so this list is long. Judy Garland and Katharine Hepburn top the list. Of the current crop, I like Rachel McAdams. From The Family Stone to Spotlight, she's always so authentic.

Who is an actor you don't get the appeal for? Why don’t you like them? John Wayne. Because I find he lacks basic humanity.

Who is an actor, living or dead, you'd love to meet? Why do they intrigue you? Katherine Hepburn. I adore her. She blazed her own trail and left her mark. There's been no one else like her.

Sexiest actor/actress you've seen. (Picture required!)

OK, you are casting a movie, pick four or five actors you’d hire to be in it and why we’d love them together. Let's remake Holiday, with Emma Stone as Linda (the good sister) and Rachel McAdams as Julia (the bad sister), Michael Douglas (as their mean dad) and Matt Damon as Johnny (the free spirit they both love).

Who are your favorite actor pairing of all time? William Powell and Myrna Loy

Have you ever watched movies from a decade that was before you were born? If so, which decade is your favorite? I love movies and don't care when they were made! I suppose I'll go with My Man Godfrey. I'm old, but 1936 is still definitely before my time.

If you were to be in a movie would you rather play the hero, villain or anti-hero? Why?  I want to be in a 1950s Technicolor soap opera. It'll be set in a big office building. I want to play the secretary of a powerful businessman. I wear a hat and gloves to work every day, part of a wardrobe I couldn't possibly afford on my salary. I don't have a big part, but I make memorable wisecracks whenever I enter or leave the room.

I apologize for being glad

My niece broke up with her boyfriend. It would be more accurate to say he dumped her to get back with his ex. She was blindsided by this, and is heartbroken.

I, on the other hand, am glad.

I didn't like him. I found him to be a pretentious prick. I was also afraid they were going to get married. It worried me not so much because I was afraid they wouldn't be happy, but because I couldn't stand the thought of another weekend in the bosom of my family any time in the near future.

So, dear reader, do you hate me yet? Have I revealed myself to be a completely selfish monster?

OK, now that revealing the horror that is me is out of the way ... I'm also glad they broke up because this will be the first time my niece has been on her own. She went from her bedroom in her parents' home, to the dorm, to a shared apartment with her first boyfriend and now this romantic roommate situation.

For one who appears as independent and tough as she is, this seeming reluctance to be on her own bothers me. While I'm sorry she's hurting -- and I'm trying to think of a good way to reach out -- I'm also hopeful that she will learn a lot about herself, and her own resilience, as she copes with this heartache.

A Most Memorable Taste

BLM -- Chicago Tribune photo

I try to get to Taste of Chicago at least once every year. It's fun. The location is wonderful, right off the Lake and decorated by Buckingham Fountain. The food is delicious. What's not to love?

This year was especially memorable. My dining buddy was my nephew, who was proudly wearing one of his wardrobe of Bernie Sanders shirts. I love how informed he is, how passionate he is. He had intended to spend this time off school to work on Bernie's Presidential campaign and alas, that's not going to happen. But here's the thing: just like I'm a lifelong Kennedy girl (meaning I believe it's my responsibility to get involved, and to do what it takes to get the right things done), I predict that this Sanders campaign will leave its enduring mark on my nephew.

Because he's at such an impressionable age at such a turbulent time in our country's history, I was glad the day unfolded the way it did. A very large and vocal Black Lives Matter protest moved across the city, trying to make themselves heard by disrupting commerce on a busy summer Saturday. They hit major tourist sites, namely Millennium Park and The Taste of Chicago.

They marched. They chanted. They "died" (laying on the hot asphalt with their eyes closed). The CPD accompanied them, protecting them and us, without disrespecting anyone.

So we twice found ourselves in the thick of a protest on a hot summer day. He was transfixed. I tried to keep him moving -- even though I wanted to stand in place and observe and I suspect if it was up to him, we would have joined in -- because I am pretty sure that's what my sister/his mother would have wanted me to do.

I asked him how he felt about all this. Was he nervous? Scared? He responded by applauding.

I agree. What we saw today was a peaceful protest. America at its best. After the ugliness of the last week, it was heartening.

The protesters weren't thugs. The cops weren't Nazis. There was a dignity to both sides, and a sense of inevitability to the whole thing. We have a problem in this city, in the country, and we're never going to solve it without honest conversation. And we can't have this dialog if we keep denying that the problem exists. Dragging it out into the sun -- literally -- on this busy Saturday afternoon is a good start.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Hotel California (1977)

1) Composer Don Henley says this song is about the "journey from innocence to experience." Where do find yourself on that journey? Are you more innocent, or experienced? I'm more experienced. I've seen a lot.

2) The lyrics refers to the "warm smell of colitas." Do you know what it is that the Eagles noticed in the air? Pot

3) The girl in the song had her head turned by luxury, including jewelry from Tiffany's and Mercedes Benz autos. Do you consider yourself materialistic? I like stuff. But I'm more into quantity than quality. Two of my weaknesses are wristwatches and sunglasses. Yet I don't think I have a watch or a pair of glasses that retailed for more than $70. I'd rather have three crappy watches than one nice one.

4) This recording has been lauded by music publications for for its long guitar solo. Are you good on the guitar? I'm not at all musical. Much to my own regret.

5) There's an error in the lyrics and Don Henley can get a bit testy when interviewers bring it to his attention. Here's the lyric: "So I called up the captain and said, 'Please bring me your wine.' He said, 'We haven't had that spirit here since 1969.'" Do you know what's wrong with it? Wine is not a spirit. Spirits are distilled, wines are fermented.
 

6) Known as the Eagles' drummer, Henley now spends less time at his drum kit. Sitting at that angle for an extended period of time hurts his back. Sam believes this proves all those warnings she heard from her parents about good posture are true. Do you pay attention to your posture? I wish I had years ago. I'm now quite creaky when I wake up in the morning.
 

7) Joe Walsh is considered the wild man of the Eagles. Think of your circle of friends. Who is the most unpredictable? My friend John. Shit happens to him. Of course, he often puts himself in the path of said shit. But still ...

8) In 1977, Star Wars premiered. How many Star Wars movies have you seen? Just the first one. And I recall it being bright and loud.

9) Random question: "Nosocomephobia" is the fear of hospitals. Are you  nosocomephobic? Nope.

I forgot my bleach

I spent two hours last night at the laundromat. It was hot and humid and boring and unpleasant. AND I forgot my bleach, so I hauled my whites up the street and then brought them back home, none the cleaner.

Our condominium's laundry room was rotten with bed bugs and so I don't want to use it. But this is getting old. Very old. And, frankly, I don't see it ending any time soon.

Oh well. At least it's done. Until next week.

Please no!

I was watching the extra-innings Cub game last night, so I really had no idea how bad the situation in Dallas was until this morning. I am overwhelmed with sadness.

I want to state upfront that I like cops. I have never had an experience with the local, hometown police department or with the CPD that was anything but positive and respectful. In fact, just this morning a Chicago officer took my elbow and maneuvered me safely through the crosswalk on Michigan Avenue. He called me, "Darlin'." All I ever feel when I see a police officer is safe.

But Laquan McDonald happened. So did Sandra Bland. There's no excusing it. There's no explaining it away. (Yes, I know there are many other, and more recent instances, but these are the two that touch Chicago most closely so they are the two that concern me most.)

So I know that not everyone enjoys the rapport with law enforcement I do. This is a problem. A BIG PROBLEM. And it must be highlighted and discussed and fixed. Fast.

And this doesn't help. Douchebag former IL congressman Joe Walsh was tweeting like crazy last night. He worries enough about his future employability to delete these incendiary messages. But here's the thing -- he got "likes" and retweets. For crap like this (there were three altogether) ...

So I'm worried. Very worried. What this country doesn't need right now is Donald Trump, a man who encourages his faithful to rough up the protesters at his rallies. Who demonizes and divides. Who throws gas on the fire for his own personal gain.

We need a grown up as President. I was heartened to hear President Obama's measured and compassionate messages yesterday. But he won't be POTUS on January 21. So we need Hillary.

I don't especially like her, and never have, I've been awake since the 1990s, so I know her negatives.

But she's our last defense against Donald Trump. And she earned more then 3 million votes than Bernie Sanders, many from the disenfranchised people of color who feel the need to be heard. (Black votes matter, too.) So I sincerely hope Bernie Sanders is both wise enough and patriotic to endorse her whole heartedly and fast.

Otherwise, it's possible that Trump could (please no!) win in November, which would give people who tweet things like this, and "like" things like this, and retweet things like this, cause to rejoice.

It's not just me

CHICAGO -- The Cubs made All-Star history by becoming just the second team ever to have its entire infield start an All-Star Game.

Yes, we've lost 6 of our last 10 games. But we've still won more games than any other team in the league and are a full 9 games ahead of The Cardinals. 

That's why seven (7!) Cubs will be representing our fair city in San Diego. In addition to these five gentlemen, you can add Jake Arrieta and Jon Lester.

So glad that the rest of the country sees what I see in this team. Go, Cubs, Go!

The joys of fandom

The Cubs had a hellacious stand in New York against the Mets, but today they were back home where they belong and prevailed against the Reds, so I'm convinced we're back on track. Which gives me an opportunity to share two wonderful things about cheering for The North Side:



And if Kris Bryant isn't enough to delight you, let's take a long (very long and lean, too) look at the astonishing (quite astonishing) Jake Arrieta on the cover of ESPN's body issue.

Widening the net

I have decided I need more good girlfriends.

Kathleen and Mindy -- two women I've known for decades and have shared much with -- are dear to me but currently are not available. Through coincidence,* both of them are dealing with elderly, dying parents. Mindy's mother is in hospice. Kathleen's father had a massive stroke two years ago, one that he won't recover from, and she and her many siblings are working hard to keep him at home with their mother. This means these women simply can't hang out. I understand. Time with a dying parent is precious and they should take it. But it doesn't change the fact that they simply don't have time to enjoy frivolity with me.

So it leaves a void. My oldest friend is in California. Barb's life will necessarily change with her illness, recovery and retirement, and I don't know what that will mean to our relationship. Kathleen and Mindy are spending what free time they have with their ailing parents. I love my gay male friends a great deal, but sometimes I want to just hang out with the girls. So who will I meet for lunch and laughs now?

So I'm auditioning galpals. While not perfect, two candidates show promise. Yesterday I had lunch with Nancy. I worked with her more than a decade ago and recalled her then as being kind of a sad sack.  I'm happy to report that her demeanor was the result of a bad marriage. She's shed that husband, remarried, and is a new woman. In addition to her work continuing work in advertising, she is embarking on a second career in physical therapy for seniors. She currently teaches a couple classes a week at a local hospital! She got into this because of her father, who is dealing with a slow decline from Parkinson's. I love how she's followed her passion into a new career. She's also very smart about stuff I'm not smart about. For example, she gave me a lot of advice about our condo board and whether the elevator renovation is sensible or dubious.

But she's not funny. There's not a lot of joy in talking to Nancy. I don't think I laughed aloud once during our lunch. I said, "I know! Right?" quite often, but I missed laughing.

Then there's Joanna from my movie group. She loves old movies and Hollywood glamour like I do -- she told me she often streams TCM on her iPad as she dozes off to sleep. She was very happy to see me at last week's Meet Up, greeting me with a big "Hey, You!" and a hug, and I was touched that she missed me at the last several monthly screenings. She actually looks forward to my insights when we discuss the movies! For one so intimidatingly chic and elegant, Joanna is comfortingly ditzy about men and money. We've made plans to just spend a Sunday afternoon together later this month. I'm looking forward to it.

But I suspect Joanna may be leaving Chicago to return to New Orleans. I notice in conversation she refers to both cities as "home." Do I want to depend on someone and then have them move?

Oh well. Whatever happens, it's great fun to widen the net and broaden my horizons and welcome new people into my inner circle.

*Or maybe it's predictable as we age.

Blab, blab, blab

My friend from Key West and I talked ... and talked ... and talked. It was a relief and a delight.

We email back and forth often, but we haven't spoken since before Memorial Day. I'm so happy to hear that he's settling in to his new job at the local library. The paycheck is a bit smaller than the one he received from his work at the newspaper, but he's OK with that for two reasons:

1) The hours are consistent and stable, which is easier on his nerves, his sleep pattern and his relationship.

2) The benefits are so much better. His partner is still racking up the medical bills, and the new healthcare covers more than the old did, which puts a bit more budge in their budget.

He really enjoys the work, too. He was so excited that he scored a Kennedy biography for me. The library regularly purges books that don't get checked out. They sell them at a fundraiser. He found one that he knew I'd like and offered to buy it. His boss told him to just take it. I can count on finding it under the tree at Christmas.

And I love talking to him because he's such a good, warm and loving person. It makes me happy that he's in my life.

I'm obsessing

Between the bed bugs and the PI-IBS/c. diff combo platter, I think about two unsavory things far more than you do, two things that aren't often discussed in polite company.

Welts on my skin. Every time I have an itch, I race to the bright light in the bathroom and make sure I don't have a trio of flat, red marks in a zig zag pattern. I don't. I haven't since that I spotted that trio of bites on my left foot -- likely incurred in our infested laundry room -- over Memorial Day. But I worry. I spray my hems, my shoes and my bags with rubbing alcohol every time I enter my threshold. Just to make sure I didn't pick anything up in the hall. The canine inspection revealed no bed bugs in my unit. The visual inspection at the time of my preventive treatment showed no bed bugs in my unit. But I worry.

My bathroom trips. Are you familiar with the Bristol Stool Scale? I am. I consider it at least once a day. So far I haven't had a recurrence of the c. diff or PI-IBS, but recurrences are not uncommon. I'm seeing my GP for a regularly scheduled follow up on 7/11. She and I need to talk about whether I'm vigilant or silly.

I'm hopelessly low brow

Today's church service featured opera and opera music. This was to drum up awareness and support for a local opera company that works with at-risk kids in tough neighborhoods. The goal is to use the emotionalism of the music to inspire these teens to express themselves artistically.

It's a laudable goal.

But I simply hate opera. My mind was wandering all over the place as the soprano sang. If I have to sit through one of those solos, I want to be rewarded with Harpo Marx. That's how it happens in the movies, you know.

Sunday Stealing

The Controversial Meme

1. Would you try a recreation drug if all were legalized? Which drug are we talking about? Marijuana? Not interested in pot, legal or not. I used to like coke back in day, but it's too dangerous for this old gal now.

2. Are you happy that the U.S. Supreme Court once again upheld a woman’s right to abortion? Of course. What a woman does with her body is her own business. While I personally could never have an abortion, my reasons are all based on my religious faith. And if I may be corny this 4th of July weekend, one of the things that makes America great is the separation of Church and State.

3. Would our country cope any differently with a woman president? We're about to find out, aren't we?

4. Do you believe in the death penalty? No. Emphatically no. My dear friend John was on a death penalty case and the jury unanimously found the defendant guilty. Guess what. DNA proved the jury wrong. Thank God the truth came out in time. Dear reader, you have no idea what this did to John. All he did was his civic duty, and he ended up with a world of hurt and the feel of blood on his hands. It's not fair, it's not right, to put this onus on jurors. If the more vengeful among you insist on a death penalty, then it should be imposed at sentencing by a judge.


5. Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already? Don't much care.

6. Do you believe in God? With all my heart.

7. How do you feel now that same-sex marriage is legalized? Happy. Love is love.

8. Do you think it’s wrong that so many Hispanics are moving to the USA? This is a silly question. Are we talking about the Spanish? Portuguese? Cubans? Mexicans? Brazilians? Argentinians? Colombians? Peruvians? What's the proper term for immigrants of Ecuador? We should include them in this, too.


9. A 12-year-old girl has a baby… should she keep it? I need to know more before I answer this.


10. Should the alcohol age be lowered to 18? No.

11. Should the wars in the Middle East be called off? "Called off?" Were that it was so simple.


12. Do you believe in spanking your children? No.

13. A mother is declared innocent after murdering her 5 children in a temporary insanity case… what do you think? I need to know more before I answer this.

14. Would you want to prosecute someone for burning their country’s flag as a method of protest? If a native of Ecuador burns the flag of Ecuador, I couldn't care less.Why don't you rephrase the question?

Great moment in Cub fandom: Rick Monday saves the flag from being burned.

15. It’s between you and a person who is being kept alive (with NO hope) by life support machines… one has to die? Who? Me, of course. I like me.


16. Are you afraid others will judge you from reading some of your answers? I don't imagine that anyone who reads this blog will be surprised by any of my answers.