Finding Nemo- coming soon to a theater near you -On Demand.

You had us at Fish Tanks. Our early fascination with the fish tank in the dentist’s office was only surpassed by the candy dish at the reception desk.

Are dentists cavity enablers? Have a cleaning and a lollipop? Please fact check Herbie Frankel. 

On to our fascination with Nemo.

The Daddy, son, divers, water adventures and scary lost moments all in one. The adventure story is about Nemo (who is limited by his foreshortened fin) proving his independence and breaking away from his school of fish family. 

Fast forward to the part where Marlin (daddy) and Nemo(son) are reunited. The audible sighs, at that split second, echo in our minds. Ah! You can always find your way back home. 

A spin on the primordial announcements over the P.A. system in E.J. Korvettes, the all purpose store of our youth. It went something like this. “Attention shoppers, we have Mikey here please come claim your child.”

This mimics the relief we felt as Marlin’s journey to rescue his son is realized. Anything short of “those” people who strapped a pet like leash to their kids waists and led them around – the real nightmare. 

So after the ten days of Repentance, we’ll engage our early childhood days in another euphoric recall moment. 

The Howdy Doody days. How about Bozo the Clown and the Captain Kangaroo shows- what was really in the Captain’s oversized pockets? How many times did we ask our parents- is the dummy really talking as we watched Jerry Mahoney upon Paul Winchell’s knee. Who was really the dummy? Knucklehead Smiff love that name still. The only one not fascinated by Charlie McCarthy was undoubtedly Candice Bergen. We’d be remiss in not recalling Pachalafaka- hello Soupy Sales prototype for the nerd. We learned early on through Bud Collier how difficult it is to Beat the Clock. 

So as we “fall” ahead with no falling back-

Hit it Barry Manilow. “We’re going hoppin, we’re going hoppin today, where things are popping the Philadelphia Way. We’re gonna drop in on all the music they play on the Bandstand (Bandstand.”)

Remember Dick Clark’s legacy lives on in perpetuity. Make it a great day.

Our Bucket list has been reduced to the size of a “come kitty have your dinner dish.”
The focus on shining our accomplishments, minimizing our regrets.
Now we see the picture with cataract corrected rose colored lenses. Our intuition a safe bet in that nexium enhanced gut reaction way.
Our group has been adjusted to the “give me five minutes” I’m on the way ones. Our 8 card fits.
“They say nothing lasts forever; dreams change, trends come and go, but friendships never go out of style.” You got that right Sara Jessica.
We’ll take Health on the daily with a walk with a friend for the win.
We can forgo a new Prada bag for no traffic on the FDR with Waze in place when we have an early eye doc appointment.
We will trade a cruise to the Mediterranean for 12 nights of early dinners and an evening of couples canasta with a little gelato in the absence of Ebola threats.
How bout a strong hug and a knowing smile while all the while counting our blessings when saying “see you after camp to grandchildren.” Nothing Better. Endorphins jumping.
Come on now -champagne and caviar dreams have become give us a good colonoscopy result and the words your sinus’s have cleared up and we are holding strong.
Hello Dolce -Hello Gabbana your exhibition was breathtaking and a one of a kind glorious treat but we are good on J. Crew tee shirt sales and bogo’s ( buy one get one at CVS. So what if we have enough cotton balls to distribute to a good portion of the Northeast.
As we are speed walking, well really a quick stroll toward a big number are you kidding me b-day we will take a steadfast and predictable evening of chicken cutlets, a baked potato, a Celebrity Wheel of Fortune episode followed by Jeopardy and all the while playing Canasta Junction while sending appropriate Instagram posts to Our Little Margie. Run on sentence counters that was for you. Sign on the dotted line if you’re in.
Oh and one more Columbo like thing. You know those high heels without a platform we saw at the Mall last week – no thanks we are good on Skeechers slip ins. Don’t knock it if…
B’h.

Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

Same room, different pew.
Thank you Katie Couric for using your platform to tell your very personal journey. Women supporting women.
“Reach out and touch somebody’s hand. Make this world a better place if you can.”
One of our guilty pleasures is surfing the net that has a stronghold on our curiosity. We scrolled through instagram several summers back and watched as Katie Couric made an amazing looking homegrown tomato sandwich. Lite mayo and we’re in. She was in full force smile and she had our mouths watering- one screen away. Her subsequent news about her breast cancer diagnosis threw us for a loop. With stories galore and awareness becoming proforma hopefully we will help to bring early screening or in my very personal story prophylactic procedures center stage. Thank you Katie Couric stronger together🙏!

Nora Johnson

Nora Johnson wrote one of our all time favorite movies -The World of Henry Orient- The story is loosely based on her very New York City schooled at Brearley, luncheoned at Romanoff’s, tea at The Plaza Hotel life. She lived until she was 84.

With financial indulgences galore by luck and emotional limitations in abundance as a by product of a divorced home she struggled to manage a balanced and well integrated life.

She had three marriages, several children and grandchildren and attained a great deal of success through her well received books. Her third, late in life relationship turned/marriage came when she was 71 with a man who was 84.

The net/net on their years together was best summed up by her. And I quote- He had said I was his last, loveliest adventure and he brought joy and magic to my life. He died when he was 91 and I was 78. Only then did I start to get old.

Attached is a blog from April 27, 2016 – The World of Henry Orient.

Our dream away movie starring Peter Sellers as an eccentric concert pianist and two young Brearley-esque ingenues who groupie their way around New York City.

My friends and I had a crush on the entire movie. The friendship between Val and Gil served as the prototype for our best friendships and our shared tuna fish sandwiches with malteds stirred by long pretzels. It was based on a book by Nora Johnson written in 1964. The movie directed by George Roy Hill extrapolated the medicinal value of gal pals.

We had our own Henry Orient in high school. Mr. Schmoltze the Director of the all school musical was our McDreamy. With luck our earliest friendships have sustained throughout our lives and still touch us deeply. We have generationally embraced each others children and grandchildren – shout out to Jen and Brooke. Sometimes we call our friend just to hear her voice.

There is a treasured certainty in knowing we haven’t thrown each other out after all the tales of woe we’ve shared. Our discussions so much cheaper than therapy. We paint a picture, create a collage or write a poem inserting a compilation of shared pictorial memories. We used to borrow clothes and trade pocketbooks. Shout out to Gail.

Now we share medical advice. Here’s looking at you ladies. We got this. With certainty we know we will never “Walk Alone.”

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” As written by Zora Neale Hurston.

Whistleblower Claims women in ICE custody are being Coerced into Hysterectomies. The Irwin County Detention Center in Georgia is being investigated for performing hysterectomies for organ experimentation. They are said to have coerced Spanish speaking prisoners into doing this and not really explaining why it was being done. Ok, so they basically said get up on the table we are going to remove your dignity, humane rights to make decisions about Your bodies and eradicate your ability to procreate and bear children.

As we enter the New Year and light yahrzeit candles for our parents we sigh a split second of relief as our protective instincts kick in. Thank G-d you were spared this moment in time when all your dreams for us had to be put on hold while we dodge bullets, run from rabid dogs, so to speak running around the streets and anxiously wait for the world to land from the spiraling downward effect of the eye of the storm. L’shana tova tikatevu.

The Rabbi offered a parable for thought last eve.
A blind man walked through the streets at night, and in his hand he carried a lit lantern.

A traveler passed him and, puzzled, asked, “Why do you carry a lantern? You cannot see whether it’s light or dark.”

The blind man answered, “I don’t carry it so that I can see. I carry it so that others can see me. That way, no one bumps into me in the dark.”

There are a few ways people read this story. Some see it as a lesson about looking out for others even when we ourselves don’t need what we’re offering — the blind man doesn’t need light, but his light protects him by helping others avoid him. Others read it as a quiet point about wisdom or virtue: what illuminates isn’t always meant for the one who holds it, but shines outward to guide or protect those around them.
Make someone else’s day. Chag Sameach.

There’ll be swingin’ and swayin’ and records playing.
Dancing in the street. Unquote.

Alright 5787 show us what’s on “tap.”
Right-left-right cha cha cha.
86’s about to wrap.
Let’s do the hokey pokey.
Double down and bet the store.
We ‘ll turn on the victrola.
And dance across the floor.
A little twist and hully gully.
If that’s what it will take.
Then we’ll lindy hop and jitterbug.
No more dancing just in place.
Hit the ground and sprint ahead.
Add input to affect a change.
Come on boogie woogie bugle boy.
The top man of your craft.
“Stroll” into the New Year and bring along your draft.
Let’s “tap” into the Bossa Nova.
Rock and Roll and “all that jazz.”
Bunny hop and two step.
Swing dance with great pizzazz.
Step one, dance two.
Shouts The Chorus from the line.
Fine tune an Arabesque, stay on Pointe and redefine.
Add elbow grease to team effort.
Realign your goals in mind.
Offer a leg up, if anyone falls behind.
So as you chasse across the finish line.
Or Fred Astaire across the ceiling.
We will welcome in this brand new year.
Position one as we are kneeling.
Hit it Elton.
“So goodbye yellow brick road.
Where the dogs of society howl.
You can’t plant me in your penthouse.
I’m going back to my plough.”
And to all a Good Night.

26 years ago my parents walked me down the aisle. You met us and we finished the walk together. I completed the seven circles under the chuppah to help create a spiritual wall. We have shared tremendous joys and in turn deep sorrows. We are still walking Aisles. Publix, Target, CVS and Jerry’s in Engelwood. The future in life is always an assumption -but we are thinking if we keep doing what we are doing -and counting steps along the byways, just maybe this will be our forevermore. Then of course, we suppose it just “Depends.” B’h

The denouement of Summer Days. As the last of the sand is cleaned off our flip flops and our floppy hats are being stored in the back of a closet, we reflect. Summer offers so many physical sensations of years past. With euphoric recall we remember long, languid days of warm breezes, iced coffees and the names of Nancy Drew characters in books we read as kids.

Familiar thoughts of end of day schlepping beach chairs back to Aunt Helen’s house, our feet burning with every leap. Ah, the splash of the cool shower as it hit our sunburned, sand filled backs. How about the first bite into well buttered corn on the cob? Oh, and the melodic sound of the Good Humor Man. Not an easy decision between a fudgicle or the then version of tasti-delite with cookie crumbs.
Somewhere around mid August we knew we would soon learn what shows we had the option of watching on our rabbit ear T.V. sets. We tried to figure out how many night time programs we were allowed and how we could factor new ones in between Dr. Kildare and That Girl. Richard Chamberlain and Marlo, we were loyal for sure.
Shopping at Alexanders and the shops at The Garden State Mall for that well planned first day of school outfit is readily brought to mind as we remember the “when we were young times.” Well fitted Cordovan Weejuns, no problem -see Mr. Lark. Breaking them in was a primordial lesson in the “getting use to’s” we would carry with us always.
And then… The intermix of the first day of school and observing the Holidays stuffed with wonderful traditions and all the brisket you can eat nights, yes, please.

So we can either reach back and hold out for the second the door shuts on wearing white, or we can gear up for Fall. How about getting some sunflowers that predictably serve as the beginning of Autumn. Use up the last of the peaches in the pie crust that will soon be filled with Apples. Even just even, go to Rutts for that one or two relish laden hot dogs that, yes transcends seasons but in yellow marker fashion italicizes the days of long ago but never far from heart. Make it a great holiday weekend. #justhavefun.

🎼You are women we heard you roar. In numbers too big to ignore.
With Gloria at the helm, her inimitable style didn’t offend. Especially when We heard you say “No More.”
Shirley Chisholm helped along.
Helen was always Reddy with this song.
Whoa, Yes we are wise.
But it’s wisdom for the pain. Yes, we’ve paid the price. But look how much we’ve gained. If we have to we can do anything.”
Betty Friedan added mystique. Bella Abzug loved to speak.
And Gloria always led with so much style and so much grace.
You were women we watched grow.
Learned more than we’d ever know. Saw you standing toe to toe.
“NOW” brought our issues to the core. Spoke out loud, never to ignore.
When men got in the way.
The sisterhood let them have their say.
But triumphed when it came to being heard.
As we honor the life you lived. Dear Gloria you did give. Because of you we believe we can face anything.
You were woman you were strong. You were invincible. B’h-