Remembering it’s the happenings, the italicized big things that offer the inner smile, the laugh out loud good, tingly feelings up and down your spine. Sign up for those as a mini course and make it the journey. Don’t let the road to no where be the rest stop. Pull over to the side of the road for a minute, then call it a hiccup. 

I’ve been reading a fascinating account of six elderly New Yorkers documented by a man named John Leland. He has tracked their lives over the past three years. It is a series of articles that are showcased in The New York Times. Adages galore about older/wiser, but a couple really hit home. The study shows through these six people how the emphasis of anything other than your core friendships of family and friends who become family are the small things. Shout out to the mighty, mighty Indians. Tonight I am going over to a destination mini reunion at a Boca steak house. The Clifton/Passaic area goes south. In my picture show there will be faces we’ve followed on social media, we’ll raise a glass and share  a tale or two of where our paths have taken us.  I look forward to going back in time to the days when we wore dresses and skirts to school- only. How bout that special vinyl box that housed our 45’s and yellow convertible plastic discs. Can’t forget the pink Curl free combs and Dip-pity do. When we told tales out of school it’s because we heard it through Marvin’s “grapevine.” Those were the days my friend when the magnitude of problems was keeping every snap on our one piece blue rompers closed during Mrs. Rudin’s gym class. My first real understanding of brave was Henry Flemings decision to stay at battle on the fields of war or flee and face the equally dangerous consequences. Ah, that pre-teen, eighth grade read of Stephen Cranes -Red Badge of Courage. All pride -no prejudice. So tonight as Jill and I walk in we’ll embrace the faces from long ago and feel never far home.  I’ll look for Meryl and oh wait there’s Joy- hoping all along my skill at connecting the dots kicks in when I know the face and quickly search for the name. 

       And so on this 45 degree day in Sunny Florida let’s find our seat – lunch room style.

Dear 20chai

Maybe this time we’ll win. We make the promises, we pump up the expectations and we pass the in winter only Mallomars at the supermarket.

“When a child loves you for a long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, you become Real. Does it hurt?” Asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.

A favorite quote from a most favorite children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit or (How Toys Become Real) by Margery Williams. 

So once again we try to brush away the flies in our picnic of life. Sadness only  takes away riches. We know for certain laughter, especially when it involves the belly adds life to your years. Norman Lear, who is still going strong at 95 years young, believes as he was moving on up to the East Side with Maude, Archie and Sandford’s son that the “Good Times” even if it’s “One Day at a Time,” added years to your life. 

I know run on sentence counters, relax that is it. 

This year while reading the New York Times obits (MYOB) I came across one that shouted out loud. 

Dr. Shigeaki Hinohara a Japanese physician was listed. He lived until 105. He cautioned against gluttony and early retirement and vigorously championed annual medical checkups, climbing stairs regularly and just having fun. 

So as we -At A Glance- our 20chai weekly appointment book let’s replace  “wishful drinking” with “wishful thinking.” Oh and by the way, Yes hello American Express. That charge was a real purchase. Yes, I bought the whole  store. Uh huh, yep the whole store. It’s the store where I bought the Basket, the one I put all my eggs in. Eight yes, eight of them hatched. Alevei-

  Dear Prudence, won’t you come out and play and greet the brand new day. Who knows how long I’ve loved you, you know I love you still, will I wait a lonely lifetime, if you want me to I will. 

I think I’m gonna be sad, I think it’s today. The girl that’s driving me mad is going away.

Cause one day you’ll look to see I’ve gone but tomorrow may rain so I’ll follow the sun – So as I see it you gotta pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues cause – there is music they tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew, there is love all around but I never heard it playing no I never heard it at all till there was you. I wanna hold your hand as we cross Abbey Road, so don’t let me down-love me do. Please don’t twist and shout because she says she loves you and you know that can’t be bad. Anytime at all, all you got to do is call and I’ll be there. Cause when I’m home, everything seems to be right, when I’m home feeling you holding me tight. And if you want some fun take Ob-la-do-bla-da – Life goes on!

Chapter One “In the Land of VPL’s.” It all began while we waited for a parking spot at the Boy’s Farmers Market (which is the $1.00 store for fruits and veggies). It’s close by, right on Military Trail – a veritable bargain and if I tell you —fresh! So we sit and painstakingly wait until someone slowly wheels the stocked shopping cart back to their car, searches for their keys, loads the car, chases after the jar of herring in cream sauce that rolled away and finally removes the sun visor from the dashboard. The name of the place could be changed from The Boys to the Men. Like in forever. And so the brigade of visible panty lines came about. Spandex leggings have replaced “dungarees”- aka Jeans. With their swimming aerobic class over, a quick shower at the gym, the ladies are off to beat the crowd and get a coveted spot. Hey today the strawberry containers are two for the price of one. Could you plotz? They can serve them next to the bridge mix (chocolate and nuts) at the canasta game they are hosting later. Ok, back to the leggings. Spandex, helancas and stretch pants you’re killing us visually. You can get them cheap at the flea market on Sample Rd. The sign says “one size fits nobody over the age of 25.” Cheaper by the dozen if you like the color maroon. So we have returned, one year older, age appropriate activities have befallen us. With a little Mazel, coupled with a work out routine for balancing, we’ll come back next week, wait for a place to park, watch the brigade and who knows the blueberries could be two for the price of…

As the horses lined up at the gate they offered resistance being positioned into place. They fussed and backed out several times. The signal went off and it was showtime. All with the same goal, on unfamiliar turf, their eye on gaining speed at the homestretch. The odds 3-to 1. Winner takes all.  Within the time allotted to get to the finish line they kept neck in neck throughout. They never wavered in their goal, their determination inbred. The race was tight, they plodded ahead at their own speed, never loosing sight of one another. Adages galore- like mother, like daughter, family is family, an inseparable bond taking a well needed break. A hiatus to regroup and redefine how to permanently cement the umbilical cord, the life line. The animalistic instinct kicked in through scent and sound as they picked up speed finishing the race. A trifecta was called as a win-win They collected the trophy of family and went home. This time they went to the florist for flowers.

The risk that we would not go through life as family, friends was always there. Small risk as family and friends, we learn, are the “everything” destination. We count on one hand the people we can really count on. When actions thunder louder than words we pick up our Barbie Dolls and go home. We throw the spaghetti against the wall. Some pieces stick, as are the odds, the rest fall to the floor. Hold on to the pieces that stuck and make a sauce. We learn quickly through joy and more so through tragedy, just who our true friends are. When people behave differently than we would have, were the tables turned, we get confused and feel let down. Expectations often leave us open to disappointment. Will we ever know better?  Reality IS the hardest pill to swallow. So we lick our hopefully not too deep wounds and look for our eight card fit. Hello Bridge players.

We try not to hold grudges. The “so be its” and the “let’s move ons” seem more sensible. We suffer most through the hard lessons of lose, in places where winning was our imagined given. Embracing knowledge is no easier through difficult lessons, just more precious. We are more apt to not repeat the same mistakes. Adage strong- “Don’t go to the butcher if you are looking for flowers.”

The remember whens, can you believes and how about that time came with rapid fire ease. We sat down, adjust our reserved seat at The Julia’s (Just Us Ladies Into Aging) table and the evening unfolded.  Last night Ricky Rosenthal joined us and he was a welcomed addition and added so much to our time. FYI- he is still very cute in an eye candy way. I have memories of the smell of his cologne. Not sure if it was Canoe, English Leather or Jade East. He was dapper then and he has preserved and enhanced the look. He stayed for a drink as we raised a glass to health and Gail added a toast to “1969.”Neil Armstrong walked on the moon that year and we graduated high school. Ok- Carol King hit it once again. “We had a moment, just one moment- That will last beyond a dream, beyond a lifetime. We are the lucky ones, some people never get to do all we got to do. Now and forever I will always think of you.” 

We took a moment to acknowledge Allen Finkelstein’s passing. We heard additional details on how Daren Scott left us too soon. R.I.P.- Oy, I’m weepy and it’s not even 7:00. We exchanged pictures of our children and grandchildren, listened with interest about upcoming weddings and expressed concern over Debbie’s impending knee procedure. In “minutes” like fashion I mentally banked the conversation about Jeff Dietz and the progress he is making. Shout out to Jeff.

Ok, then- back to the compliments on how well we all look, perhaps a little help from fillers, clairol hair color and another 10 sessions with our trainers- it matters not. The take away, as we see it, is we have traveled from school yard days into the Medicare years and we have never had to turn the beat around. Our personalities may be more pronounced, our posture slightly compromised, but our love and caring deeper and stronger through time. I’ll sign on the dotted line for more of the same. 

With All Your MightNOVEMBER 16, 2016 ~ AROSEBYANYOTHERNAME2016

Connected by threads of laughter, endured thru distance and shredded by hardships. We are still together as our paths have divided, multiplied and been challenged. As a precious jewel-worn on tender occasions, displayed in a special place; polished and refurbished as needed. Forgiving, generous and embraced, as its value cannot be overestimated. A responsiblity unlike any other, for it is not obliged through birth. It continues, endures-we hold on and question how, sometimes why? Yet to loose it would mean a huge piece of us would perish amongst the rubble of disaster.

One manga-tile, two magna-tile, three-magna-tile four. With each squat, plunge and groan we are keeping our eye on the prize. We meet the trainer appropriately named Know-L and our mission begins. When we joined the GCA- Grandparents Club of America 12 years ago, we were equipped to jump up from the floor with zest and no thought of our body parts. Holding on to help ourselves up, no way. With knees and wrists in tact we were still “hip.”  So with 600 magna-tile pieces, bags on end of planes, trains and automobiles and lots of building in our future we’re in the work-out zone. We are not going to let ourselves get “down” without sprinting up. When Knowl says give me ten, we say I’ll give you fifteen, whatevers. So for now we’re optimizing our luck, our by chance fate and taking stock in Advil and epsom salt.  Catch us if you can Father Time –we found a way around you‼️

After a day of school, the algebra tutor- (gornisht helfen)- dinner and shower finished we’d get cozy on the couch for “Would You Believe “out of the mouth of Maxwell Smart. Maxwell was a secret agent who puzzled villains and his boss with his confusing explanations and farcical combat style, I say clearing my voice. “Now listen carefully,” CONTROL Agent 86- (Don Adams) with Agent 99 (Barbara Feldon) transported the James Bond and Inspector Clouseauesque capers spun through the brilliant eyes of Mel Brooks and Buck Henry. The secret agent genre goes satire. “The Chief”-Thaddeus (Edward Platt) of the faux CIA, doled out the assignments. Agent Smart played the bumbling, cockeyed optimist to the stereotypical “50’s” woman. Barbara knew more than Don but allowed him to believe he alone brought them through the finish line. 

Fast forward feminism and with no algebra tutors in sight, Danica Roem defeats “chief homophobe.” She said ” discrimination is a disqualifier” and we celebrate you because of who you are, not despite of it. Sucker punch to the gonads.

I’ll take State of Affairs for $1,000 please. Which Don says “would you believe?” when enemies call his bluff and he ineffectually resorts to more desperate ones. Take the $1,000 to the bank.