We are still walking down aisles-Costco, Target, Fairway! Bh

Repost on an end of summertime day!
When the leaves were orange and the living was easy. What does the tooth fairy do with all the teeth? Why do the people in the front of the picture appear so much larger than the people toward the back? Out of the mouths…when life was oh so mellow.

We bought our first pair of silk stockings which were to be held up by a stretchy pink and white striped garter belt. We felt so mature. Oh the days of Ozzie and Harriet, Susan Lucci, Soupy Sales and Wally and The Beav. We had “One Life to Live.”

We re-dialed, after our friends line was busy the first time and screeched with excitement, Conrad Birdie style, over our anticipated coed- girl/boy party that evening in Daren Scott’s basement. We will always miss Daren.
After we sat under a hot dryer with beer can sized rollers in our hair we brushed away the fumes from our eyes left by Aqua Spray. The decision to curl our hair rather than iron it straight was a good one, our hair came out just right. Getting ready “Was” the excitement. Our new madras blouse and alpaca sweater hung prominently in the front of our closet right above our shiny, new cordovan colored weejuns. Bright, new Penny, dated 1969 heads up in place.

A touch of revlon blush, a glimmer of “coffee bean” lipstick proceeded a spritz of Shalimar and we were on our way. With dejavu on our breath we can still recall euphorically how it felt when we unbuttoned the wooden clasps that kept our new Pea Coat in tact. The boys gathered on one side of the room, as the girls sifted through the 45’s on the other. At this point there was no bottle to spin in sight. Would the Angels sing tonight as our soldier boys danced under the Blue Moon? Wah a Watusi. It’s the dance made for a romance.

The specialty years of pre-teening encapsulated so many of our trial and error moments. Being in a click helped dissipate the error parts, we were all in it together. We made room for our daydreams laced with Johnny Mathis lyrics and we did get Misty. Our Barbie and Ken’s were repositioned and left to fetch for themselves in the back row of our minds. In the “still of the night” we hold tight to the memories that Jay and the Americans knew were those Magic Moments. Make it a fun Sunday.

“The radio and the telephone and the movies that we know may just be passing fancies and in time may go – but oh my dear our love is here to stay.”If we could clone “Grandpa Ira,” every grandchild from near and far would be inoculated with a locked in love and a fail proof, safe haven. Side effects -Prodigious Proportions of sharing, caring and lingering on the sunny side of street.

One day we woke up and the miasmic film like filter that shrouds the cataracts of life was gone. Our foresight replaced hindsight allowing us to see the forest in spite of the trees. I wish this on everyone.

We would run into their home always overflowing with the smells of Shabbos on the stove, cookies in the oven and ripped toilet paper in a box, next to the toilet bowl. Symbolic of a Jewish Home on the week-ends. Zada sat on his over-stuffed chair surrounded by prayer books. We would fall into his smile, his warmth. He particularly cuddled my sister Roberta. She was the youngest and so curly haired adorable. We watched him read, we observed him in prayer. Our backs were covered as G-d had to be listening, he did it so well. Rabbi Irving Gottlieb presided over a congregation in a shul in the Canarsie section of Brooklyn. In the 50’s, early 60’s it was a predominantly Jewish and Italian “good” neighborhood. He also owned a rabbinical artifacts shop on Rivington Street on The Lower Eastside. We would visit him on Sundays and once again was greeted with a big smile. He couldn’t wait to hand us a hard candy from a dish he had on the counter. What fun we had. In our early days growing up we were traditionally observant. My mother kept a kosher home. Her father was a kosher butcher. We were frum, Devout and pious Jewish people. On Passover mom koshered the kitchen from head to toe. She changed the dishes and utensils. She lined the refrigerator and cabinet shelves with oak tag. The food strictly kosher for Passover. Matzoh Brei our favorite, our biggest request. All we knew is that the dishes were not as pretty as our every other day dishes. Green glass was just not our taste. Our memories are of very long Seders where we were so hungry that eggs dipped in salt water tasted so good. I cherish those days. Then it all changed. Our taste of orthodoxy, our world as we knew it was over. We moved from Brooklyn to New Jersey and our affiliation to strong observation paled. My father was the only son of an orthodox Rabbi. He had 5 sisters.We moved from our solid roots when he radically decided to join a reformed temple. Our lives would change forever in how we observed Judaism. Somehow we followed his lead, as we respected our father. We all stayed strong to tradition. Holidays and their loveliness have resonated throughout our lives. We came together for dinners, we worshipped and practiced our faith in a different format.What is the “chosen” people in G-d’s eyes? We sang and we prayed to him in our own hearts, albeit in a different format but not in a different way. As fate unfolded I am blessed to have 8 grandchildren through marriage. They are orthodox and very observant. I have moved much closer to my very observant roots now. We live life sequentially. Fate brings us to situations at different times in our lives. There are no coincidences. I strongly believe in G-d and a divine order. I feel my faith so intensely thru the blessings of grandchildren who run into my house threaded with familiar smells and traditions. They fall into our smiles, our warmth – as I did on Rabbi Gottlieb’s lap in 1958. Zada, I smile big as I hand them candy sitting prominently on my counter. I wish this on everyone. Hashtag Blessed.

Staying connected to our souls as the Thursday-end of summer goal. With adventures displayed daily through the eye of photo shop on social media, i.e. Instagram and Facebook, we travel guide through the elaborate display of someone else’s life. As the carpe diem magnet stares back at us from our refrigerator door we put down our electronics, pick up our latest book and go on a new journey. Daily pictures of summer trips to Portugal, the latest sneaker fashion trend, what your friends Aunt did on her 98th (bh) b-day, and a stranger’s newly painted front door-become as routine as the morning paper and orange juice. The flowers in Lady X’s garden or the smile on Mr. B’s grandchildrens (no visiting day) faces have replaced “All My Children” and our voyeuristic interest in Erica’s choice for an eighth husband. So when your grandchildren return from a summer trip and come over for Legos and Lunch, listen carefully when you hear- “I love being here so much, it feels like I never left.” Take defining moments like these to log out of anyone elses newly painted front door and walk through your own with your head high and your Lucky smile. Grass greener seekers need not apply. Make someone else’s day -get to Rye Play-land when the gates open wide.

Melancholy and Marvelous

Our mother loved FOOD- shopping, unpacking, organizing the refrigerator,preparing, cooking, eating, wrapping leftovers, eating, cleaning out the refrigerator. Sara Lee and Entenmanns cake boxes were scotch taped closed. She studied food and became a dietItian.
Studied some more and with her masters degree was titled nutritionist. Then got an M.S.W. In social work at the age of 50. We think she wanted to figure out through research why food was always top of mind.

We relied on radishes cleaned and in Tupperware with French dressing as an after school snack. Sometimes we opted for Buitoni Raviolis, yum as we think about it now.

We waited around and did homework until dinner. We came to expect something breaded, something fried with Le Seur Peas and a baked sweet potato. We looked forward to broiled baby lamp chops- We still do. Snowballs, hostess cupcakes, twinkies, drakes ring dings, yodels -yum and yum. Euphoric gastronomic recall. She saved the Lindt Chocolate for her card games.

As the culinary seed was planted we waited for it to sprout into our type of cuisine. We too love food. However, everything else around it feels equally as appealing. We have an extensive salt and pepper shaker collection.
Varied, and meaningful. Collected from places we’ve been, antiquing and given to us as gifts. Some are antiques, several glass, some ceramic. Betty Boop and Harley Davidson sets hang out in my cabinet together. Dishes, silverware and amber glass represent our treasured items.
Flowers and table settings add to the allure of our meals. Our collection of soupcons (fancy serving ladles) makes us smile.

Shopping for the ingredients and researching who has the best mozzarella and filet mignon a past time. Aligning the seats for comfort and space adds to the canvas. We make sure the creases in the napkins are well pressed
and the water glass is properly situated. We light candles and get dressed. We then set up the ice on the bar and cut lemon slices. All the time this is going on we have the oven on, the flames on low and check our “something” breaded, something fried.” We learned from The Best. Miss you mama especially today.

Please hand me a tissue. We just watched the novella -Breakfast at Tiffany’s again. Truman Capote fan here. Southern Socialite, brilliant, clever and raconteur extraordinaire. Often invited to dine with The Cafe Society Set and was seen having “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” with Jackie O. And I quote Truman- Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act. Ok, then.

He lived a dichotomous existence. Recluse by day as a writer and Studio 54’d it by night. From the tables at Côte Basque and Grenouille, dinner parties at the 720 and 740 buildings on Park Avenue he, charmed the pants off Babe Paley and her CBS husband Bill.

“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music that words make.” Truman alchemized the condiments of life and lived it spicy. His writing was fluid and lyrical. He killed it with a Mockingbird. He surrounded himself with glamour and beauty- he brought clever to the party, The nexus of entertainment doesn’t vary in the writing but leaves us with our own inner voice. His devastating childhood served as the motivation for his “Cold blooded” approach.

Let’s get busy. Make whatever act you’re in count the most. Add an extra plate to your table and invite that interesting person you met to dinner. Take out the easel, finish the sweater you started knitting. Compile your musings and write your memoir. Get the catalog for the 92nd Street Y of your choice and learn something you never knew before. In 4 months it will be 2023. We are still processing 2019. Let’s do it Friday. Flip an old behavior that has kept you stuck and open up space to experience “the good stuff.” Bh

This is what’s right with this world!

First Day of First Grade!

A good friend of mine unexpectedly lost his wife. A couple months later we were golfing together, chatting about nothing. He asked what my dinner plans were and I told him wifey wanted my homemade chili and cornbread, but I didn’t feel like stopping at the store. We golfed a few more minutes when he quietly said, “Make the chili.”
It took me a few minutes to realize we were no longer talking about dinner. It was about going out of your way to do something for someone you love because at any moment, they could unexpectedly be taken from you. So today I’m sharing with you that wisdom handed to me by my dear friend, that I’ve thought of many times since that day. Next time someone you love wants you to go for a walk or watch a football game or play a board game or just put your phone down and give them your undivided attention, just do it. “Make the chili”