We didn’t have cotillions but we felt like debutantes when we put our gold circle pins on our white blouses with Peter Pan collars. In the days of villager sweaters, Ladybug pins and capizio, we felt so grown up when we fastened our new silk stockings to our pink and white stripped garter belts. You with me ladies? How bout papagallos, Jonathan Meyer sweaters with a madras collar unfolded at the neckline? Hot stuff indeed.  Wait, the first day we debuted our baby bead bracelets encasing our names was certainly our defining moment. Then we had “game.”With our baby beads cozied up next to our gold bangles we were bound to have good luck forever.

On the weekend we went for the tennis sweater and penny loafer look- dexters and weejuns our happy go to’s. Oh those days of firsts, of beginnings we remember with kindness and delight. What could be better than a pink or yellow mohair sweater with a coordinated skirt and matching pappagallos? The excitement, Big, Huge. In the sixties we were fashion plates as we walked out the door in our loden coats or pea jackets to head over to third ward park. We would convene around Tom Sabas truck and hung out with our group. The allure of Passaic in the sixties has lasted our lifetime. Can you say right place, right time? See you at Ginsburgs, I heard they got new color bangle bracelets.

No “Pulse” Nightclub- Orlando, Florida –Las VegasJUNE 13, 2016 -tragic repost— Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School -Parkland , Florida- February 14, 2018 Valentine Massacre 

“That certain night , the night we met, there was magic abroad in the air. There were angels dining at the Ritz- “And a Nightingale Sang in Barclay Square.” Words by Eric Maschwitz, music by Manning Sherwin. The song was written in 1939 in a French fishing village Le Lavandou right before the outbreak of the Second World War. Fast forward— On a steamy week-end eve you get dressed, put on your lipstick, turn off your music and walk out the door. You look forward to debriefing the week with a friend and meeting some new friends. You’re all set to chill in a high energy, safe haven club, on your local Barclay Square- the nightingales were singing. Dry martinis, familiar faces and music you listen to at home and know every word to. A perfect design for a five-star time. One would think. And then the World According to Garp doesn’t happen. No Lin Manuel, THESE senseless acts of tragedy are what is “promised.” Our promised land nearly 70 years after World War Two- on the the doorstep of World War Three. “Praising Isis, Gunman attacks Gay Nightclub, leaving 50 dead in worst shooting on U.S.Soil”– the headline in today’s New York Times. Yes, on U.S. soil, the same dirt that has a potential presidential candidate who made this horrifically designed tragedy about him. We scream in horror, we cry in disbelief as one more lunatic walks into one more gun shop and puts down one more stolen credit card. We then pay dearly for the laws that govern the strongest nation on earth. We pray for the insane and fund them in jail after they take away our freedom of choice, as to which place to dance the night away–that takes our Life away. In concentration camp like fashion we become prisoners of the loose cannon, suicide bombers who live to die. The adage of ” do guns kill people or do people kill people” is one big oxymoron. One avenue for slaughter is people buying guns. How long is congress on sabbatical from revising laws on buying over the counter rifles in a store that houses beef jerky too? Dear G-d please look in our direction. We need our backs covered and we are willing to double down for this.

You know there are 6 more weeks in Boca. So whad ya do this week-end? This musing is inspired by Brad Zimmerman. And just who is this Brad guy? Here goes. A sixty something, in great shape guy whose claim to fame is that he opened for Joan Rivers in Atlantic City, before the days of progressive wheel of fortune slots. Love those! (Shout out to Robo.) He’s a New Jersey guy, way of New York, schmoozing his way on Florida stages. Joan Rivers one- liner to him was and I quote ” you are the funniest comic I ever worked with in your price range.” We laughed and then we cried through the evening. He is still waiting for his career to amount to more than bupkes. Also, if his girlfriend Amy from high school gets divorced perhaps he’ll marry her. A Zuchen Vey. Brad’s stereotypical Jewish mother is still giving him “what for’s.” How lucky to still have her nudging him and reminding him he’s not a shmendrik. Her question to him now, ” so when are you going to get off the stage and give me a grandchild? We left after 90 minutes, no intermission, yes we used the facilities beforehand. I kept thinking on our way to get some key lime pie and a nite cap, if only he went into his father’s furniture business he might not being standing alone on a small stage in Palm Beach Gardens. His spiel was audible when the forced A/C wasn’t noisy. Vayismir. Getting to the theater a bit of a gantseh magilla- but not to worry, we don’t shivtz the small stuff. 

It was a humor filled, delightful evening. His shtick had a cute gimmick. The evening was so provactive of our days of growing up with similar hand me downs. I can’t type fast enough, I could plotz.

Earlier in the day we spaetzered around The West Palm Beach Antique Fair. 

You shouldn’t know from the thrill-big, huge. With every piece of schmutz on every amber glass bowl our endorphins rose to sea level. We sifted through the tchatchkes, the thigamabobs and the doodads. If you haven’t left me yet it’s over soon enough. Trust me, oy. We bought a few things, you’ll see below. 

And then we knew we arrived –over the free, fluffy marble cake samples placed in front of us at Flakowitz. Uh, the look on my husband’s face priceless. His favorite and free. Does it get better? Ok, listen up. We had a Flagel and a schmear and we were off. We were on our way to play pickle ball with that new couple we met on line at Costco. I don’t, know, maybe, could be the early bird’s shadow portends to more then 6 weeks in La-la land. I’ll get back to you later. 

Some days feel like the best days of your life. Yesterday felt like a rebirth. The beginning, the middle and the end all feeling like the same moment in time. We were shrouded in a veil of togetherness. Living in the present was our only concern.  United in a day of frolic, we kept our eye on the prize.  Like a flock of sheep, we followed along and went with the flow. Our hearts served as the guiding light that led from one feel good department to the next. We didn’t need the french fries, although we knew they were one request away.  No pleasure was out of reach. Want a cookie for the asking and it appeared.  Giggles, smiles, omg’s, we knew we felt the same and nothing was going to stop us. A shared day of beauty, a stolen moment to focus only on the good, the better, the best. I think we agree we would sign on the dotted line with a glitter pen to bottle the love and sprinkle it around. “Someone day we’ll find it, the rainbow connection- The lovers, the dreamers and me.