It’s August tomorrow and the first week has always felt like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.
 Summer months are secretly shorter in an uncanny way.
We’ve already viewed commercials for school supplies and bathing suit sales in between Simone Biles breathtaking, winner takes all performance.
Nectarines, apricots and donut peaches are peaking their season.
Our 50+ Sunscreen is nearing the bottom of the tube.
We finished reading The Wedding People (novel by Alison Espach) our guilty pleasure beach read. Timely indeed as the protagonist Phoebe Stone had a cat named Harry and so on. It’s a propulsive summer read. A positive way to take your mind off the crossfire political arena, where dodging bullets has become as common as orange juice and our daily newspaper.
So just for today, one hot dog at a time, get some fresh corn (a dollar an ear,) open a bottle of Whispering Angel, buy a farm-stand Blueberry Pie and add a side of Haagen-daz coffee ice cream. It all tastes better before the Halloween candy commercials start appearing between Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. Have a great Wednesday. 

Go to humor Saturday.

Carl, Carl did ya hear me?
Root Beer, yes, no not diet.
Stanley get on line, go on, say you just had your hip replaced.
Sol, hurry I want to stop at the place that has pizza so I can have a couple of slices on the plane. No, nothing to drink. I get dizzy when I pee on a plane (toilet.) Ugh and the floor is always wet.
Marty hold my coat, I knew I should-a checked it with my luggage. What ya mean I have to hold my mah jongg set on my lap. Are you joke(r)ing me. Get it Marty that’s a joke. Ha! Ha! Next time go for the Mosaic thingy.
Ron- ( hello Ries) go show em your shoulder strap so we can get the exit row. No one can bang into you, you’ll sit by the window.
Mel-ask for bags of cookies and 2 bags of pop chips and pretzels. I’m hungry.
Frank- can you get me a magazine in the front of the plane? Doris what century are you living in? This is Jet no magazines) Blue. Ok, so buy me earbuds. I’ll catch up with Teresa Guidice on RHONJ.
Joey, wanna play gin rummy? I brought the cards we got when American Airlines sprung for them.
Morris-ask what plantain chips are and if they’re kosher? Be nice. Don’t tell me to shut up.
Paul- you wanna sandwich? I brought cream cheese and grape jelly on white. Or sardines on a roll with butter and onions. Neither one? No worries, eat the plantain chips.
Dinner? We are having Chinese.
Danny, Danny you sleeping? Watch my handbag I am going to see what they are selling in the cart. Quick let
me out. To the Moon Alice. To the moon.

Hillbilly Eulogy-Grab em by the Cat.
J.D. no Chance Vance you blew it just like that. 
Sporting awkward eyeliner and a get over yourself Smirk.
Step right up next to Humpty-the consummate, ultimate Jerk.
As s woman who never birthed children, but loved so many with-full heart.
Your words smack of sheer stupidity.
Quite an ignorant way to start.
As your platforms sure to be short lived.
Save your breath on comments spewed.
Do the hokey pokey, while you slug some mountain dew. 
That’s what it’s all about. 

With The Fringe on the Top🎼

Cards and tiles grab a seat better hurry.
Bring your glasses so your eyesights not blurry.
Counting 7’s or hoping for jokers.
Thinking Concealed hands are the chokers.
Watch your partners as they go down with Aces.
Don’t forget to wear poker faces.
Playing the games, we learned from our mother.
Laced with memories not like any another.

All our games help to add “the fringe on the top.” 🎼

Replacing tiles adds smiles to our miles.
Add some luck we’ll trade the joker.

Eye on the prize, the wild card as the topper.
Planning our games for the week, there’s no stopper.

Soon we stop, take a break for a nosh.

Give a kick a charlotte russe-
Oh my gosh.
Yep, one more thing to add “the fringe on the top.”

When we sit back down to the tiles.
Mixing and rolling the dice brings us smiles.
Singing along to Frankie Valli and his crew.
As we bank on a good time will ensue.
So let’s keep on counting and mixing, pick the pack will help add the fixings to “the fringe on the top.” Phew!

We woke up had oatmeal and wrote 72 on our application for a Florida drivers license.

The years, like the bouncing dots of a text message being replied to have flown by. Resplendent with a potpourri of memories that have marched along with us like dutiful soldiers. Grateful to have built lovely little corners for them in the attic of our minds.

They are always there to call upon (especially when the path you are walking on is temporarily unpaved.)

Haven’t you read a book twice? You know what’s coming and still look forward to the race of your heart and the a-ha moments. The cost of admission-down memory lane every penny (heads up) that we’ve saved to gain entrance, worth it. Through very little provocation we tap into them. We share our euphoric recall thru posted pictures that we carry with us in our eyes only. Those moments in time that brought pink to our cheeks and offered an everlasting glow. Her look, his smile when you gave them a collage that documents their happy moments. Doesn’t get better, in-spite of all the the crazy glue stuck to your fingers times.

Then like the fleeting visit of the Robin Red Breast sitting upon your lawn who just stopped by to announce Spring-they go. You start another project, read another book, or exhume memories spending time throwing out old sweaters and picture frames.

Lucky to have a new day to create a new moment. We Polaroid the feelings that having lunch with childhood friends offers and document the look on a young child’s face when they jump into a cool swimming pool on a hot summer day. Just for today turn the other way, minimize disappointments and maximize your good fortune.

Make it a great Thursday and who knows perhaps along the way add a new memory that will last a lifetime.

A Side of Gypsy!

Have some nova, Mr. Goldstone.

Have a bagel, have a schmear.

Have a latke Mr. Goldstone.

Any spare that I can spare I’ll be glad to share!

Take a dish, have a pickle, have a knish, here’s a fork.

Put your feet up. Feel at home.

Have a coke, something corked?

Would you like to hear a joke?

G-d forbid a smoke.

Have a decaf mit your babka.

Mr. Goldstone come sit by us.

Come Daven by the river, meet us on East End and 84th.

Finish up Mr. Goldstone, you’re already on your fourth (course.)

Have some flanken, cooked with care.

Everybody give a bissel cheer.

We sat you-next to Murray.

Go sit in that Big green chair.

Have a Goldstone, Mr. Bialy.

Tell me any little thing that I can do.

Have some liver, chopped on a cracker.

Have a cookie, have a few.

What’s the matter, Mr. G?

How bout another pot of tea?

Good Shabbos-Mr. Goldstone.

Raise a stoli, maybe two.

Keep your senses- helps stability.

Mr. Goldstone we love you.

.   Tony, Tony Bo-Bony

      One year ago we said good-bye.

You were the Man everyone wanted to be around if “somebody broke our heart.” 

We would dress in our “blue velvet” garb in our “New York State of Mind.,” all the while knowing listening to you croon a tune- would help us “pick up the pieces.”

You certainly led “ The Good Life. A certain something felt familiar to us not like a “stranger in paradise. “Because of you,” we knew “ body and soul,” “ the best was yet to come.”

So going from “rags to riches,” we would get “pennies from heaven”if we were standing in the “the shadow of your smile.” 

As the pied piper, never skimping on passion and always young at heart we believed “everyday would be the first day of spring, every heart would have a new song to sing- and we’d sing of the joy every morning would bring- “if you ruled the world.”

Tony, like Sinatra said you were the “Best of the Best.” We’d sacrifice anything come what might. For the sake of having you near. 
“ Under our skin”-“Body and Soul.”

There were times – We got no kick from champagne – but we “got a kick out of you.”

Your Duet style Lullaby’s on Broadway with Elton, Lady Gaga, Sting, K.D. Lang, Barbra with an A and Billy Joel left no question in our minds that:

“oh the good life to be free and explore the unknown, like the heartaches when you learn you must face them alone. “For once in our life”-with “the very thought of you” we will put on a happy face and Never kiss the Good Life good bye.”

“Are you having any fun?
What y’gettin out of living?
Who cares for what you got.
If you’re not having any fun!
     Well done Mr. Bennett!

Can A.I. alter stupidity?

A virtual who knew.
A little siri a lot of algorithms.
What is right, or is it true?
Am I writing this, or is it coming from You?
I before E except after C.
Artificial sweetener not good for you.
Not good for me.

That was the Week that was.

“ All the News that’s Fit to Print.”
Appears on the masthead of our daily read.
Will creativity be abbreviated?
Or replaced by a digital degree?

We write some prose, add a lyric or two.
Original thoughts add a concept we construe.
Will our world as we know it.
In the simple and true.
Be usurped by learning techniques, wiser than me, bigger than you?

ChatGPT can create an A.I. text.
But our experiences we behold.
Recalling our adventures a computer code can’t unfold.

Keeping our erasers, our inkwells close by.
Our modus operandi holding our heads towards the sky.
Our feelings are our treasures that can’t be taken away.
Regardless of the fact A.I. is here to stay.

NOVEMBER 10, 2022 ~ AROSEBYANYOTHERNAME2016

Dear Jamesy Gom,
We watch your strides so long.
Your hair “flows” out of its helmet,
Your “A” game far and long.
Your “cycling” of the “biscuit” as you “Bar Down” into the net.
A cause for a “celly” we are busting from the get.
You got the rink covered,
The opponents can surely tell.
While your friends were playing checkers in theory,
Your chess game very strong.
You are such a talented hockey dude.
Center rink is where you belong.