Give a Kick!

Recipe for long living, long ago. 

How many had grandparents who lived well into their 90’s? Maybe they knew Vic Tanny existed but they were too busy working hard, cooking and baking and smoking cigarettes to get to know him well. My Grandmother, (Bubby Chicken), for those in the know, led with an indomitable spirit. She had a startling ability to push unpleasant thoughts down the block and across the street. She was too busy to worry about what so and so said or thought. With rolling pin in hand and her grater not far away she filled part of her days. I often wondered if she slept with her apron on as it was ever present and the first thing we noticed when we ran in for her endless Hugs.

We believe she was the prototype for the “I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn high to fly” lyrics. So, noodle and or potato pudding, apple cake, rugalach with raisins and jelly and her famous candy bowl filled with hard candies were things we came to depend on. We never knew how we would make it to dessert as we were left stuffed with carbs, salt, schmaltz and gribenes (another-for those in the know.) And- just in case, she had her trustworthy mylanta, gaviscon- or “here mamala have a tums” waiting on the counter next to the left over flour and right under an old plant that still had the ribbon and card on it from last Mother’s Day.

In the absence of gummie probiotics, papaya enzymes, lactaid free whatevers, Pilates, colonoscopies, portion controls, intermittent fasting, calories counts on products, my grandmother and her friends lived on. They were the Northeast distributors of 100 calorie bags filled with TLC.

Were their stomachs better equipped? Was it not considered abuse to reach for the sugar and go for the salt first? Perhaps endemic to generations long ago who focused less on Vit. D levels and more on how good Halavah tasted, whether it was marble or chocolate covered. The conundrum eludes me, how about you?

A three pronged example of a lifestyle fast forwarded is a workout on the treadmill, a bullet veggie shake and dashing off to have our blood work tested after a 10,000 unit regimen of Vit.D to pump up the numbers. Bub, we all miss the high caloric, straddled with confectioners sugar way you celebrated life. By the way thanks for palming us the good luck gelt every time we left your side. Bh

More than the Rabbit Died

2023 Monterey Park shooting- Official say Gunman Who Killed 10 in California is Dead. Lunar New Year shooting and more than the Rabbit Dies.

May 25- 2020 Uvalde, Texas- 18 Children 3 Adults Dead-

No “Pulse“ Nightclub- Orlando Florida – Jun 13, 2016-

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. Yes, on U.S.soil again and again. 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 center stage again today.. One avenue for slaughter is 18 year olds being allowed to buy murder weapons. 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. Bh

Home Alone.

And just like that he left for Home. All the while we believed Home is where the left over stuffed derma is. Was it that there was too much cooked celery in the chicken soup? Perhaps he found too many bounce dryer sheets stuck to his socks in his drawer? Could it be the half and half wasn’t fat free? She racked her brain trying to come up with a sound reason she was left behind to negotiate The Boys parking lot by herself?
So she rearranged her mindset, left an extra house key in the car and knew if she got the chicken in the pot from 3ggg’s she was covered for dinner the next two nights.

He left her the buy one get one flyer from Lucille’s Barbecue in case she wanted ribs one night. For the next 7 days Amazon was her plus one go to. Paper goods left in front, hopefully the day they’re delivered it won’t rain.
Ok then now what? Netflix, perhaps?
Finishing the book for the next book club? Indeed a possibility. In an attempt to keep busy during her solo ride she packed a bag for a destination beach day. She included her air pods, zinc oxide for her lips and a turkey sandwich for lunch, no mayo, could spoil in the heat. Well that will take care of a day in his absence. On the way home, while listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, she stopped at Glicks for a container of soup and a six pack of Dr. Brown’s Diet Cherry Soda. Counting moments dinner by dinner. Interesting.
Back to the check off list for when the garbage is picked up and to make sure to leave the housekeeper money on Wednesday.
She’s covered on heavy items i.e. bottles of water and Tide Detergent. No worries, all good, yes freezer is full. Who knows a little time apart in the absence makes the heart…fashion could be good.

So she took a left on to Jog after what seemed like a long wait, pulled into Town Center for a little shopping therapy only to realize it was only 8:45.
Next stop the bagel place at the (OMG) counter for one seat. An everything bagel with a schmear- often a comfort food panacea.
With a little time to go until Neimans opens CVS is a good time filler. One can never have too much Calamine lotion for those middle of the night leg itches.
My take away on Home Alone, after a glued to the hip time together especially during the Pandemic days is that keeping busy is key. They are having a Bingo Game in our community. Buying some new dabbers at the Big Apple flea market on Atlantic can help pass the time until life goes back to Two for the Road. No worries I got this week covered.

Hit it Henry Mancini
Two for the Road

If you’re feeling fancy free.
Come wander through the world with me.
And any place we chance to be,
Will be a rendez-vous.
Two for the road.
We’ll travel down the years.
Collecting precious memories-
Selecting souvenirs.
And living life the way we please.
In summertime the sun will shine.
In winter we’ll drink summer wine.
And everyday that you are mine
Will be a lovely day.
As long as love still wears a smile.
I know that we’ll be two for the road.
And that’s a long, long while.
As long as love still wears a smile.
I know that we’ll be two for the road
And that’s a long, long while.

New Rage on how to Age. Laughing out Louder.

Who can touch their toes?

As you are on the way down traveling south past your new hip, you might bypass the pins and screws in your knee or perhaps an ankle. Destination our newly coiffed toe nails. We stopped at Dr. You Nailed this before we picked up six bialys to freeze from The Boys.

We change our top, put on some lipstick and get ready to meet at Poppies for the early bird dinner/lunch for tomorrow.

We ask to have our table changed a few times as the A/C was blowing right on us. We put on the new cardigan sweater we got at the Flea Market on Sample Rd. After we pool our medical updates and order a cocktail we ask for the bread to be heated. We then wait for 20 minutes until we see our waiter again. Ok then, the conversation ensues with a new pill for this, a new procedure for that. As long as our “funny bone” is intact- we got this. A tennis game, a round of golf a stretch class or two. We acclimate to the “back nine” with our new cataract less foresight, becoming our new hindsight. So just for today we will put on our prescription less rose colored glasses. We will go to the we got lucky dept. at Bloomingdales and be grateful as when learn a table opened up at the new Mediterranean restaurant on Federal Highway. They give us all the hummus and Baba ganoush we can eat as we watch the belly dancer shake her age appropriate belly fat from table to table. 😎 So glad you are at our table again. Have a great Tuesday- aka senior discount day at Publix.

Repeat- now that’s a joke!

Dear Acid Reflux, 

Where were you all our lives?

Tums, Rolaids and Pepto,

Helped our parents stomachs thrive.

Proton uptake inhibitors add an endoscopic search.

Waiting for results, clearly keeps us in the lurch.

We love to eat pastrami with mustard piled high.

A half a sandwich later.

We wonder if we’ll survive.

We take our purple pill and go along our merry way.

Hello Acid Reflux are you really here to stay? 

A cough and then a tickle.

Is our stomach that high up?

Please hand me the mylanta.

Perhaps a half a cup.

Our stomachs have gotten older.

Our eyes still on the pie.

The days of a la mode, have quickly passed us by.

Let’s try the milk from Almonds.

Lactose intolerant too.

So we’re really very over- the limitations in our view.

A spritz of just plain seltzer, a ginger ale was quite the cure.

Our dietary habits we need to re- explore.

Forget the mozzarella deep fried, sauce on the side.

Our days of grabbing a slice.

Makes our stomach wanna hide.

We are up to planning dinners.

That are as bland as all get out.

Dear Acid Reflux, shut the door on your way out. 

Go to Humor Sunday!

Tomorrow May Rain So We’ll Follow the Sun.

” Tomorrow may rain so we’ll follow the Sun.”

Tennessee Williams wrote “snatching the eternal out of the fleeting is the great magic trick of human existence.” Who has the sign up sheet for that trick? How many times have we aspired to carpe diem-and una vita vivere (one life to live) adages that we extracted from the “you never know category.” Too many times we immerse ourselves in the possibility that second chances happen often. Can we all love better, care more and buoy those in need?
On the daily we become mired in our own discomforts and morph the ephemeral into the permanent. So just for today, in a nothing stays the same fashion, lighten your load by adding something grand to change the alchemy of your woes. Catch up with an old friend and really lend your ear. Perhaps enjoy the majesty of a glorious sunset. In the you never know category, we don‘t. Saturday strong. Bh

Go to Humor

Is Everyone in the Building Making Stuffed Cabbage? Carl Reiner repost I wrote June 29 2020. It’s a Go to Humor kind of day.

“Oh G-d” (1977), The “2000 year old man,” enters the Pearly Gates Laughing.
Estelle Reiner, his wife said it best at Katz’s Deli, “I’ll have what she’s having.” She was married for 64 yrs. to the controller at Rancho Conejo. 98 years funny, he certainly had “The Thrill of it All.” When Morey Amsterdam and Rose Marie reworded phrases to get the rhythm right on The Alan Brady show Carl Reiner called it a Wrap. We knew when Rob Petrie tripped into our living rooms each week on the eponymous “Dick Van Dyke Show” it was really his “Show of Shows.”
Norman Lear’s line in Carl Reiner’s 2017 documentary on aging, “If You’re Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast, was how he lived.
So today Carl, we’ll have our coffee with cream and a little oatmeal in your honor. His credo was “ find your hammock and live in the now.” The transition of time in between “ok, it’s over, to what’s next,” is when his productivity kicked in. HBO featured the documentary- on demand it if you can. The cast of characters, the best of the best. Mel Brooks is hysterical, Dick Van Dyke dances, Norman Lear is brilliant and Carl Reiner’s direction and hosting ever so warm and welcoming. When it was filmed in 2017 they were all Nonagenarians. One thing distinctly portrayed in this work of long livers is that they were passionate and fell in love with lots of things. So Carl we imagine as you enter the pearly gates, we will hear you say to G-d, “so Divine One, if you were commanding a performance your timing was propitious as “The Russians are coming, The Russians are coming”- in this “Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. I will pass the baton on to my son Rob and remind him of the line written in 1963 for “it’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. “And in a democracy, it don’t matter how stupid you are, you still get an equal share.” RIP Mr. Reiner -well done.

When the Next Times are Now!

Let’s live in the moment.
As Life passes us by.
Take our eyes off our phones.
We’ll give it a try.
The hours we are missing turn into days and then weeks.
While sitting and dining with our closest of peeps.
The abundance of notices through a ring or a chime.
Distinguishing sounds as our anticipation climbs.
An email, a text, a memory comes through.
Socializing through electronics is just what we do.
We glance at the table our phones perched on top.
We have tried not to look but we just couldn’t stop.
Put down your iPads and follow along.
We missed what you said, our addictions that strong.
So just for today we will silence our phones.
Cause what’s that important till we get home?
We might miss a picture from 2018, or a Brooks Brothers coupon to purchase something green.

Make it a good Thursday!

Repost with humor

Punxsutawney Phil is the name given to a groundhog residing in Young Township near PunxsutawneyPennsylvania, who is the central figure in Punxsutawney’s annual Groundhog Day celebration.

You’ll 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 be 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 shvitz the small stuff. 

It was a humor filled, delightful evening. His shtick had a cute gimmick. The evening was so reminiscent of our days of growing up with similar emotional 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. 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 canasta with that new couple we met on line at Costco. I don’t, know, maybe, could be the early birds shadow portends to more then 6 weeks in Boca. I’ll get back to you later.

Hand us the remote!

“When I was just a little girl I asked my mother what will I be?
Here’s what she said to me.
Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be.
The future’s not ours to see.
Que sera, sera.
What will be will be.”

And then she let go of my hand and “what will be” became what is.

How much easier life would be if we had a crystal ball for which to see.
The future unfold before it came.
Minimize the struggles, our choice of game.
Challenges and misfortunes factored into the fold.
Gives us our backbone, our strength to behold.

With times so uncertain, a future unclear.
Our nearest and dearest become more clear.
But just for a moment with a dream in place.
Take away the name, add a new face.
If we could throw our troubles back into a pot.
Would we accept beshart?
Be grateful for what we got?
I suppose we would, but just for today.
With a dream, a prayer and fantasy intact.
We’d trade some for sure, not take ours back.
With less of that and more of this.
Our hardships, our strife wouldn’t be missed.
As fate unfurled, at our front door.
The cards were dealt, we tallied the
Divine order in place, sensibility kicked in.
Focused on blessings, called it a Win.

“When I grew up and fell in love,
I asked my sweetheart, what lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows,
Day after day.
Here’s what my sweetheart said-
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be will be,
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera”
Make it a good Monday!