MAY 9, 2021 ~ AROSEBYANYOTHERNAME2016

During our early morning Instagram grazing we came upon this post above. With a heartfelt reaction it started our day with Gratitude. “Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit when there are footprints on the moon.

If We Could Turn Back Time- on a repost kind of day-

So the year is 1967, we just got our drivers license, we head out in our white Volkswagen Beetle-roof top opened wide. The radio is set to Wabc am 770 and we sang out (very) loud. “We took a ride on a shoot the chute, when we fell in love down at Palisades Park.” Oh, Cousin Brucie… We threw in our nap sack which was packed with a striped towel, a rubberized white bathing cap with a chin strap (oy) baby oil and iodine mix and zinc oxide for our lips. We carried our new sun reflector under our arm. First we stopped on Main Avenue and one of us ran into the corner drugstore, (our Grovers Corner) to buy a pack of Newport Menthols and Wrigleys spearmint gum. Bradley Beach look out Passaic Girls sighting on the Garden State heading South. We all wore cut off “dungarees,” a washed out short sleeve madras blouse and underneath our version of an “itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini.” We were having a Heat Wave, only at that point in time nothing to do with a hot flash. We got into Susan’s new bells and whistles car. We fell into our 1960’s time machine. It’s now 50 plus years later and we’ve carried our age, albeit-not bad- with us, our voices sound the same. Our imaginations run wilder than we could have ever imagined. In surround sound style. memories quickly rolled by of Third Ward Park, the pond, the handball courts and Tom Sabas truck. Although nothing was yellow nor polka dot, two obvious differences were we buckled “seat belts” and didn’t stop for cigarettes. The pack of gum was opened. I declined as I just had a new crown put in and not on my head. Crowns are the new fillings. I think the dentists read that AARP pamphlet too closely. Ok, so we were heading to Debbie Larks in Monmouth Beach for a day of dejavu, forgiving smiles and delicious homemade blueberry pound cake. Another Sara Lee memory moment, only this time baked by Debbie and so yummy. I kept hoping somewhere sequestered in her beautiful home would be a couple of Bass weejuns, with shiny pennies dated 1969. She would give us a pair as a glorious reminder of how great our feet felt sans high heels. We had lunch with a beach breeze and dessert on the terrace as we caught up on children, grandchildren, thyroid meds and the latest f-factor diet. All the while we had a song in our heart as we quietly rubbed the rabbits foot in our pockets. Lucky and then some, poo poo. “Oh, if you need a friend we’re sailing right behind. Like a bridge over troubled water.. By the way Sue nothing about yesterday was a “Fugazy.” Throw it back Thursday.

You charmed the husk right off of the corn Mame.
As Jessica Fletcher, with your basket perched in front of your bicycle you did the same.
In Sweeney your meat pies, put Nellie Lovett on the map and attracted the attention of Mr. Todd.
Louise sang out as Mama called from the sidelines.
A shout out -a big prod.
You knew everything would be coming up roses.
With a push, a shout the ultimate nod.
We added a madcap moment,
And knew we’d always be Alice Toklas to your Gertrude Stein.
“If life should reject you, you had us to protect you-
Friends sisters and Pals.”
7 decades of acting glory,
The consummate actress, a mother and wife, the all around gal.
Known for voicing Mrs. Potts.
Your tone so recognizable,
“As a tale as old as time.
Song as old as rhyme,
Beauty and the Beast.”
You left us a library of work.
“Ever a surprise,
Ever as before.”
RIP Dame Lansbury.
“That’s all she Wrote.”

From the Mountains to the prairies to the oceans…

Hon. Ketanji Brown Jackson,
Your knowlege runs quite deep.

Questions upon questions until you took the seat.

Your demeanor, style and enthusiasm,

Scale buildings high above.

If you run into Clark Kent,

Send him high fives and our Love.

This moment in our history,
Breathtaking as we sigh.
Please get your pens and pencils.
Numbers of crimes you need to try.

Protective and fair with reason,
Your style sings your praise.

The United States of America,
We trust you’ll help to save.

Your social construct as a woman, hits deep and to our core.
We sit with bated breath as we never have before.

Now more than ever, they’re aborting women’s rights.

We are holding tight to justice we have got a mighty fight.
Our bodies, souls and dignity are going up in flames.

Our humanity kicked to the sidelines we are fighting to regain.

Dear Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson.

You get but just one vote.

Sending pleading messages for strength, determination and hope.

A Rising Tide Lifts All Boats

Farewell “Murder No Mystery.” Prodigious proportions of murders down the block and coming to your neighborhood and not on the big screen. On the street you’ve walked home to with no thought of not making it to your front door. We watched as Lt. Alison Russo was laid to rest. Her father said it best through his pain “my daughter was fatally stabbed and left on the ground like a rag doll.” She would have been the first to run and save her assailant, had he not stabbed her to her death first. RIP posthumously Captain Alison Russo.
Where were you when Kennedy was shot? Our young, formative, developmental years were spent during the 1960’s. The innocence of knee socks and loafers, bell bottoms and clogs, alpaca sweaters and lady bug pins, madras blouses, loden coats, pea jackets and wrangler “dungarees” were how we rolled. We go back in thought when going forward needs a push. We learned to take the right action and let go of the results. Respect your elders, do unto others and lend a helping hand, basic adages that started on our front lawn. I know cliche counters but when the going gets…Destroyed norms of human behavior were unimaginable as we stood stalwart with presidential reverence and pledged allegiance. Just for today, look over someone else’s shoulder, be careful not to trip over the homeless person sleeping on your corner as you are reading your messages on your phones about one more shooting around the corner and down the block. Prayers strong!

Is Everyone in the Building Making Stuffed Cabbage? Carl Reiner repost- 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. So, as 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!

Make each sound of support into a Symphony of Hope!

–Same room, different pew.–
Thank you Katie Couric for using your platform to tell your very personal journey. Women supporting women.
“Reach out and touch somebody’s hand. Make this world a better place if you can.”
One of our guilty pleasures is surfing the net that has a stronghold on our curiosity. We scrolled through instagram this summer and watched as Katie Couric made an amazing looking homegrown tomato sandwich. Lite mayo and we’re in. She was in full force smile and she had our mouths watering- one screen away. Yesterdays news about her breast cancer diagnosis threw us for a loop. With stories galore and awareness becoming proforma hopefully we will help to bring early screening or in my very personal story prophylactic procedures center stage. Thank you Katie Couric stronger together🙏!

There’s a hold up in the Bronx, Brooklyn’s broken out in fights. There’s a traffic jam in Harlem- that’s backed up to Jackson Heights. There’s a scout group short a child, Khruschev’s due at Idlewild- “Car 54 Where Are You?” Gunther Toody and Officer Muldoon- where are you when we need you? Indelible visuals of their caricatures implanted in our minds. We only wanted them to get back together as partners. Their chemistry was real. My go to is Barbra with an A. “Was it all so simple then or has time re-written every line?”

Johnny on The Pony was a fave, rough housing at its best. Great memory and first glimpse into early on-set competition was watching the boys play skully. Remember flicking bottle caps on to a chalk made skully board? Object not over-flicking–nope it’s on the line.

When the going was good, with euphoric recall, we remember the days of no wine, maybe sweet sixteen roses. We drew the hopscotch board on the part of the sidewalk that was flat. Throwing our skate key as our hopscotch shooter was the thrill- where would it fall? Happy to land with two feet on 3 and 4 or 6 and 7 (double squares). Jumping rope, (sorry no double dutch here) trading Barbie clothes and discussing what happened on last nights episode of The Patty Duke Show are such comforting memories of times well lived. A simple worry was that the street light would go on before we found our skate key en route home to watch the latest episode of Dr. Kildare, (Richard Chamberlain) was very cute . We loved playing stoop ball- loosely based on baseball, only we used a Spaulding and retrieved it from the stoop steps, rather than from a batter. Big favorite was the game of Jacks. We didn’t care that we were often left with scrapes on the side of our hands from pinky to wrist. Bacitracin and band-aids were big in our house. The boys on the block played Stickball, (baseball with a stick.)

And then came the “Whistle.” I think our father practiced it a few times before we heard it coming as a “it’s time.” We did not look forward to hearing that sound at all, and in the middle of a game-ugh! “But Daddy we aren’t done. Please, just a little bit longer.” Denominations of time didn’t matter. Ten more minutes would have done. We cherished these after dinner nightly reunions. Our early childhood friends are still part of us. Now we share Nexium, diet tips and compare blood pressure meds. Just sayin. The crescendo of childhood memories was getting our baby bead bracelets with the letters spelling our names and encased in gold. Our piece of the sky, indeed. Ok, then, so with resignation and dismay we left the street. Bath time, Dr. Kildare and maybe some of Pinky Pinkham( Dorothy Provine) singing a few tunes at the Charleston Club. The corners of our minds are filled with the innocence of skate keys, Nancy Drew books and red licorice; never a clue that Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five would become the thundering moral statement of our time. Oh, what I would give to hear that infamous whistle beckoning me to come in, just one more time- And Daddy this time I would come in and right away. Make it a good day!