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.
I would wake up early Friday mornings, open my door and grab The New York Times Restaurant Review Section. When I worked with you in the basement of 1081 3rd Avenue from 1977-1980, Mimi Sheraton was the “it” girl. Her glorious career spanned her lifetime. From chopsticks to soupçons and everything in-between. We wondered if she would think the carrots were a good addition to the Fritto Misto? Was there going to be a comment about the broccoli holding too much batter? We knew if she reviewed us the Tartufo would be lauded- the ice cream gal that she was. Disguised or not, we waited for her as her aura was recognizable. Who knows if I had stayed in the restaurant industry between my love for food and all that surrounds it and my flare for penning words if I would have followed Mimi around the corner and down the block into Lutece. The smell of Truffles in season was the initial allure and then Andre Soltner worked his magic. Euphoric recall laced with reverence indeed. You had me out there taste testing the latest egg roll or asking “what their most popular pasta dish was,”at Tre Amici, often talking loudly to compete with the piano player. Hey, Mimi we wonder what your “Last Supper” was. Baruch Dayan HaEmet.
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!
Ron- go show em your shoulder strap we can get the exit row. No one can bang into you, you’ll sit by the window. Shout out to yup! You looking at me Ries.
Mel-ask for two bags of cookies and 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.
Morris-ask what plantain chips are and if they’re kosher. Don’t tell me to shut up.
Paul- what sandwich do you want. I brought cream cheese and jelly on white. Or sardines on a roll with butter and onions. Neither one? You’ll 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.
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.
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.
arosebyanyothername2016 