Judy Gomberg puts a funny, heartfelt and humorous spin on being a boomer. She beautifully captures the songs of our lives as our memories grow longer, deeper and stronger.
We took our places sporting “35” years. The feel of the sand under our chairs. So much nachas and laughter divided our tears. Our many glasses, “cups” and shared plates. Lands “us” right in the A group, a coveted space. The wind whistled memories. Our quiet said it all. The glory of the moment. We will always recall. With few chances in one lifetime to dance as we roam. My Dear Sweet linnie. We found our place to call Home.
Dear Don the Con, The infamous orange man. Ever closer to the “can.” Without a leg to stand.
The first indictment on the way. The next 3 carry stiffer sentences. And so it’s time to pay some way overdue penitence.
Attention C minus lawyers. It’s time to start the clock. You lied, you cheated, you stole. The consummate A- hole. Slim chance you’ll be incarcerated. But “stormy” weather lies ahead. With “Georgia on our mind. You could be left for dead. The insurrection against our country. With No liberty, no justice for all. Our Dreaded history unfurled our flag. The curtain fell on us all.
World Book Encyclopedia, The Merriam Webster Dictionary and The Thesaurus– versus Google, Kindle, Amazon Prime, Tik tok, Facebook, Instagram, and a myriad of search engines plus.
Our days of licking our finger to turn the pages are virtually over. Although we still pick a hard cover over a battery operated read. Can you easily bring to mind memories of brown paper bags with pencil calculated totals of grocery store purchases? How much were a dozen eggs? Anyone else struggle thru long division or angles and intersecting lines geometrically? How about looking up Ticonderoga and cutting out pictures from National Geographic Magazine for a cut and paste project on Africa? Oh, and who doesn’t remember carrying that elaborate science project to school hoping it wouldn’t spill or rip?
What happened to Ed Sullivan on Sunday night, Tom and Jerry and a deeper meaning to Bugs Bunny then we ever knew (google him) Saturday mornings. Yes to the the guilty pleasure of Luke and Laura’s General Hospital Wedding? Would you “Bet your Life” on Groucho, if he threw in the swinging Duck? How bout Soupy mischuganas Sales? Our days now where we are going at a slower pace with the absence of having to re-boot anything is high up on our “only if” list.
We lost internet Wi-fi connection over the week-end. We held our breath, unplugged and counted to a 60 second re-plug. Phew!
When we step back and chronicle the speed at which life has reinvented communication it is mind boggling. Ironically we miss the days of waiting on line to buy tickets to a Grateful Dead Concert. The palpable, heart beating energy waiting to get good seats can’t be replaced by choose your seats on Ticketmaster on-line. We look back at memories of being careful not to touch chewed bubble gum under our seats at the movies we could come to in the middle of and watch again for the same price of admission. A couple of cartoons thrown in. A box of bon-bons please.
We miss slower paced times. Now a days we jam pack activities to avoid suffering from FOMO, ( fear of missing out.)
Euphoric recall sets in as we exhume the days of the smells of home cooked meals. Baby lamb chops, baked potatoes, canned peas and fruit cocktail for dessert , yes, please. Oh, mama. We miss getting hand written letters, and saving them in our memory box, envelope and all. I repeat – “Can it be that it was all so simple then, or has time re-written every line?” Hit it Barbra with an A.
So just for today, pay less attention to the frequency of sound with every e-mail or text coming in. Explore some hand written behaviors. Perhaps on demand old episodes of Dr. Kildare or Ben Casey -our original Mc Dreamy’s.
In every game that must be won There is an element of fun. You find the “run” and snap. Fill the tiles in the gap. The game is just a game. ( yeah right) Every hand you undertake. Becomes a piece cake. A lark, a spree it’s very clear to see.
Just a sh*t load of jokers helps the mah jongg hand go down. The mah jongg hand go down. The mah jongg hand go down. In a most delightful way.
In every hand you undertake. Add a piece of cake. 3 cracks, 4 dots , one flower maybe more. It’s you who’s keeping score. Shake it up and go explore. Never tried that hand before? Cause Consecutive run is such a bore.
Add a flower to the mix. And pull out all the tricks. You picked a North and West. Switch to the Winds and add the rest. They got passed around a lot. Just pull out all the stops. Cause…
Just a sh*t load of jokers. Helps the mah jongg hand go down. The mah jongg hand go down. The mah jongg hand go down. In the most delightful way. Have a fun Saturday.
Go ahead try the chocolate babka. You could plotz.
We’ve just been introduced. I do not know you well. But when the cards were shuffled. Something drew me to your side. I sensed we could be friends. Share a joke or two. It made me think we might be— Similarly occupied.
Shall we play? Tra la la Shall we still sit together, And depend upon each other? On a clear understanding that we signal with the 7’s? remember to count aces. Shall we play? Shall we play- shall we play?
Shall we play? Tra la la Shall we turn on the music, Shall we try? Shall we go down with four jokers and hope our partner matches. And just go for a mere per chance. With a clear understanding that this kind of thing can happen, shall we try and then try and then try.
When the last little 3 has left the deck. Shall we still play together, Staying tethered to the table And show up with a poker face?
Cause we know we are better. For engaging one another So we played and we played and we tried.
Farewell “Murder No Mystery.” Prodigious proportions of murders down the block and coming to your neighborhood and not on the big screen. On the street you walk home with no thought of not making it to your front door.
We watched as Lt. Alison Russo was laid to rest. Her father said it best through his pain “my daughter was fatally stabbed and left on the ground like a rag doll.” She would have been the first to run and save her assailant, had he not stabbed her to her death first. RIP posthumously Captain Alison Russo. Where were you when Kennedy was shot? Our young, formative, developmental years were spent during the 1960’s. The innocence of knee socks and weejun loafers, bell bottoms and tennis sweaters, baby bead bracelets, peter pan collar’s, madras blouses, loden coats, pea jackets and wrangler “dungarees” was how we rolled. We go back in thought when going forward needs a push. We learned to take the right action and let go of the results. Respect your elders, do unto others and lend a helping hand, basic adages that started on our front lawn. I know cliche counters but when the going gets…
Destroyed norms of human behavior were unimaginable as we stood stalwart with presidential reverence and pledged allegiance. Just for today, look over someone else’s shoulder, be careful not to trip over the homeless person sleeping on your corner as you are reading your messages on your phones about one more shooting around the corner and down the block. Prayers strong for the nyc cop shot overnight. Mic drop Thursday.
Purim Hamantaschen, Hamantaschen, Where art the best? We are on an adventure. Through a taste test. The flavors and textures. In one bite or two. The crust and the filling baked like our Bubby would do. Seeking the memories, we are hitting the ground. We’ll go store to store. The streets we will pound. Add the sugar, the butter, the vanilla extract? Measure the amounts, don’t mix them in blind. The hammantaschen we knew, Were one of a kind. We’ll tap into Amy Rosen. We are thinking she’ll know. Her cooking and her baking- a win, place and show. We favor the prune, but appreciate the rest. Hey, we will taste it all. In our search for the best.
Truman Capote’s nickname, ‘Bulldog’ was given to him because of his habit of carrying a notepad and dictionary when he was about 11 years old. The name ‘Bulldog’ was a reference to ‘Bulldog Drummond,’ a film character from the 1930s.
Please hand me a tissue. We just watched the novella -Breakfast at Tiffany’s again. Truman Capote fans here. Southern Socialite, brilliant, clever and raconteur extraordinaire. Often invited to dine with The Cafe Society Set and was seen having “Breakfast at Tiffany’s ” with Jackie O. And I quote Truman- Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act. Ok, then.
He lived a dichotomous existence. Recluse by day as a writer and Studio 54’d it by night. From the tables at Côte Basque and Grenouille, dinner parties at the 720 and 740 buildings on Park Avenue, he charmed the pants off Babe Paley and her CBS husband Bill. He often served as Lee Radziwill’s walker at dinner parties in Southampton.
“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music that words make.” Truman alchemized the condiments of life and lived it spicy. His writing was fluid and lyrical. He killed it with a Mockingbird. He surrounded himself with glamour and beauty and brought clever to the party. The nexus of entertainment doesn’t vary in the writing but leaves us with our own inner voice. His devastating childhood served as the motivation for his “Cold blooded” approach.
Let’s get busy. Make whatever act you’re in count the most. Add an extra plate to your table and invite that interesting person you met to dinner. Take out the easel, finish the sweater, learn a new sport (hello Golf) and yes go to the beach. Shout out to The Bergs with a K.
Compile your musings and write your memoir. Get the catalog for the 92nd Street Y of your choice and sign up to learn something you never knew before. Let’s make it inspirational Sunday.
“In my own little corner, in my own little chair, I can be whatever I want to be.” Rodgers and Hammerstein- written in 1950 for Cinderella. Time has a way of showing us what really matters. Cinderella’s mother taught her to “always have courage and to show kindness to others”. Do you believe in the magic as demonstrated on Americas Got Talent? Hmmm! So against the odds of fending off a wicked step-mother, jealous step-sisters and every stigma attached to the “step-syndrome,” Cinderella managed to surface as the Queen -and championed as the Laureate of second chances.
When you miss the first boat out, and fortuitously get another chance to dance in the moonlight, throw away the short end of the stick and just Dance. Give up being bound by failings for past mistakes, i.e. bad choices. Destiny always rears its head in spite of whatever form of mutiny you throw in its way. Pump up your emotional content and help slow down the aging process. John and Yoko lived by the adage “life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” Unfortunately his elongated job with destiny was cut short and it took her breath away, while she was making other plans. Just for today we will listen to Cinderella’s mom and lead with courage and kindness. Even if America doesn’t have talent- you do. “Impossible things are happening everyday.” “You really are as wonderful as you seem.” Have a Great Saturday.