The Theft of Time.

Dear Columbo- we are having a conundrum of sorts. We need your help in solving the mystery of misplaced time.

We know it was here somewhere close and yet it flew by. If only we can feign absentmindedness as well as you. The early years we recall euphorically and with more clarity than yesterday’s lunch.

The toys we played with, the Pyramids along the Nile and under the Blue Moon, we heard about in song.
The exact spot where we did homework and our after school snacks, still top of mind. Where were you when Kennedy was shot?. No problem.

Our Saturday’s in high school spent buying bangle bracelets and new alpaca sweaters at Ginsburgs and Wechlers after lunch at Wassers. Miss those French fries.

With ease we remember the day to days of our jobs and hard earned pay/commissions. You still with us?

All the backgammon games at Cavallero’s and dancing on the crowded floor at Studio 54, we can still turn that beat around. Love a little Gloria Gaynor.

Not sure how we arrived home pre-Uber days and woke up in our own beds, two aspirins and at least 8 hours of sleep later.

Of course, yes, our share houses on Fire Island and in the Hamptons. Hazy days of summer to say the least. Soda, pretzels and that Almaden bottle of white.

The Weddings, babies, watching school plays our #niecestopieces starred in, indeed. Except how did it get to them having babies of their own?

Easily remember Family Thanksgivings, Chanukah and birthdays.

No, it’s more a case that the long ago’s and far aways are accumulating into decades.

So Peter Falk when you’re trying to figure out who stole the cookie from the cookie jar- please give us some answers about all the years. As we debrief our time thru picture albums and how we looked in madras shirts and tennis sweaters we remember the fun, the glory days and our first hang over. But Columbo where how did we get to so many yrs.old? Especially noted during b-day time.

“Yes G-d father-time I’ve come to ask a favor on the day of your daughter’s wedding.”

Can you please slow down. My friend’s are having milestone b-days, we are going to bar mitzvahs of friend’s grandchildren and our young nieces are having babies of their own. We would take back our own good and not so good luck. Wouldn’t change much about fate and how it has unfurled. But, for heaven’s sake the only thing we really want to be binge watch are the shows we taped. So Columbo, “one more thing,” exactly what were you wearing under the famed raincoat.

Make it a euphoric recall kinda day.

And so the story goes…Swing easy!

G
O
L
F
When Birdie met Bogey in the old neighborhood they were pretty much hook(ed). They (fore) warned their parents that they believed strongly this was their (stroke) of good luck. They knew there might be (rough) days ahead, but their attraction proved to be (out of bounds.) With no (mulligans) in sight and no red (flags) in view they would plunge ahead, not let sleepy dogs (lie.) They would disregard an (albatross) as an impasse and call it three strokes in their favor.
Perhaps there would be (hazards) along the (Fairway) but for now they were in the (Green.) They vowed to (bunker) down together, knowing all the while as long as the (Eagle) has landed they would invite everyone to the 19th hole to raise a glass as they celebrated their ( hole in one.)
See you on the Tee box- off to drive a few buckets. Reeking with enthusiasm. 

“Everytime we say goodbye, I die a little.
Everytime we say goodbye, I wonder why a little. Why the G-ds above me. Who must be in the know…

We shared a Mitzvah ceremony at Temple Beth-el last evening. We prayed and kvelled as we observed Josh Harris become consecrated as a Cantor.

“Everybody loves a winner- Everybody loves him.” He’s in his early 30’s. 

Raised in Brookline, Massachusetts, educated in Hebrew, sings in celebration “and” the cow jumps over the moon.

He is engaged to a female Cantor, his colleague at the same Temple. 

“To the Moon Alice” and away they go.

Sometimes along our journeys with luck on our side, we fall into someone else’s story that captures our hearts and helps locate our souls. Serendipity cannot be overestimated.
So just for today we embrace the glory of this young,  profoundly devout and talented man. 
  “Sing Hallelujah come on get happy.” Count your Blessings two by two.
“We bless the day we found you.”

“Each time we meet love,
I find complete love
Without your sweet love
What would life be?

So never leave me lonely
Tell me you love me only
And that you’ll always-
Let it be me.”

While taking the long view through our cataract altered rose colored glasses, we stop and pause at how far we’ve come.
The lessons keep coming with rapid fire speed especially during periods of transition.
The world as we’ve known it is entering a terrain the likes of nothing we have ever known.
Against the odds of continuing our journey with more standards of familiarity than not, we try to hold onto our base of the steadfast, that have offered predictable outcomes.
We tap into our family and our deep seated bench of players.
We avoid subjecting ourselves to too many new and unknowns.
As we all grapple and wait to see where we will land, just for today bring your nearest a little bit closer.
Get out your placemats, your dishes and set the table for a group of family and dear friends who reach down to help you up when you have a lost moment in finding your way.
The familiar mj game yesterday, adding $.50 for concealed hands certainly was a perfect start. Thank you ladies.

Happy Birthday Mr. Mel Kaminsky a.k.a. Mel Brooks.

The consummate Steadfast lodestar of comic behaviors -98 and going great.

You embodied the role of a Producer (1968) when you hid jewels in one of The Twelve Chairs (1970.) 

Your pairing of Cleavon Little and Gene Wilder got some Saddles Blazing (1974) -which left you in a

state of High Anxiety (1977.) It was then that you knew it was time for a Silent Movie (1976) and it gave you time to prepare for Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993.)

You had us when he appointed a new sheriff, his friend Ahchoo. So today we say Bless you Mr. Brooks and may you continue to make sure we Enter Laughing (1967.)

One day when I was 12 my Bubby showed me how she made her Grade A mandel bread.

All the ingredients were set up. She handed me some raisins to munch on as she sprinkled flour, got her erstwhile rolling pin and started to roll the dough. She said to me in her most comforting voice-“mamala take a deep breath and watch everything I do. You should make this for your husband one day.”

I cherished the moment and wrote a composition about the experience for my writing homework the next day.

Little did I know I would be recounting the experience on the internet so many, many years later. On a day like today, exhume a favorite long ago and far away feel good experience.

One of the best parts of memories is making them.
Thanks Bub- for the love -laced with powdered sugar that lasted a lifetime. B”H!

We set the tables- one for the game of play, the other for lunch. Check with Sonos, our unwavering music pal, fill the coffee table with treats, unlatch the door and wait with anticipation for the women to arrive. 

The day is analogous to moments of enjoyable pleasures we have gathered along our journeys. We aim for cheerful friendliness. With zero ambiguity and the absence of pushy tactics we roll the dice. Shuffle the cards. Celebrating our time together is optimum. Yes we compete, but know that ultimately “Everyone Wins.” 

After our day of play a friend and I debriefed our time together. Her mother, who also played games, gave her a sound piece of advice. She told her above all to make sure you really enjoy the ladies you sit down with. This is ultimately how we live life now. Weeding out disappointments, striving for better fits. Merely overlooking much more. 

We bask in treasured certainty- pleased, proud… Amazed at how good it can be- astonished by it’s capacity for sudden bursts of brilliance. “Fill our hearts with song and let us sing forevermore.” Make it a great Fall Back! What time is it?

Knee- jerks Upon Standing!

Dear Acid Reflux,
Where were you all our lives?
Tums, Rolaids and Pepto.
Helped our parents stomachs thrive.
Proton uptake inhibitors.
Add an endoscopic search.
Waiting for results clearly keeps us in the lurch.
We love to eat pastrami, deli mustard piled high.
A half a sandwich later.
How will we survive?
We take our little purple pill.
Go along our merry way.
Hello Acid Reflux are you really here to stay?
A cough and then a tickle.
Is our stomach that high up?
Please hand me the mylanta,
Perhaps a half a cup.
Our stomachs have gotten older.
Our eyes still on the pie.
The days of a la mode, have quickly passed us by.
Let’s try the milk from Almonds.
Lactose intolerant too.
We are so very over, the limitations in our view.
A spritz of just plain seltzer, a ginger ale was quite the cure.
Our dietary habits, we need to re-explore.
Forget the mozzarella-deep fried, sauce on the side.
Our days of grabbing a slice,
Makes our stomach wanna hide.
We love a little bolognese.
Tossed on pasta piled high.
We wake up at 2:30 and hear our stomachs cry.
Now we’re planning dinners.
That are as bland as all get out.
Dear Acid Reflux, shut the door on your way out.


Don’t go to the Butcher if you are looking for Flowers.

Give yourself a boost by learning the social terrain in your new community.
And I quote Proust, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

Perhaps get intimate with a new hobby, take up Golf- ( you looking at me?), or sit with friends at dinner and add new meaning to the conversation by learning more about their beliefs on a topic you have never discussed before.

Somewhere between sharing a salad and four forks at dessert pose the question -if you had your choice of any one to sit around a table and have a conversation with who would it be? Barack Obama, Andrea Bocelli, perhaps one of your grandchildren?

So just for today find your way to adding and multiplying possibilities by starting the new book collecting dust on your night table, calling someone you haven’t reached out to in a while, try the new coq au vin recipe you found while exceeding your 20 minute allotted time scrolling thru food sites on instagram.

Small positive steps help to minimize stress. With Father Time blinking at us we roll up our sleeves and hit the ground running (well walking quickly.)

“The skies above are clear again. So let’s sing a song of cheer again.

Happy days are here again.”
Make it a meaningful Friday.

The new rage on how to age with grace.

Who can touch their toes?

As you are on the way down traveling south past your new hip, you might bypass the pins and screws in your knee or perhaps an ankle. 

Destination our newly coiffed toe nails. We stopped at “Dr. You Nailed This,” before we picked up six bialys to freeze from The Boys.

We change our shirt, put on some lipstick and get ready to meet our canasta group at Poppies for the early bird dinner/lunch for tomorrow.

 We ask to have our table changed  a few times as the A/C was  blowing right on us. We put on our new cardigan sweater we got at the Flea Market on Sample Rd. 

After we pool our medical updates and order a cocktail we ask for the bread to be heated. We then wait for 20 minutes until we see our waiter again. Ok then, the conversation ensues with a new pill for this, a new procedure for that. As long as our “funny bone” is intact- we got this. A tennis game, a round of golf a pilates class or two. 

We acclimate to the “back nine” with our new cataract less foresight, becoming our new hindsight. 

So just for today we will put on our prescription less rose colored glasses. We will go to the we got lucky dept. at Bloomingdales and be grateful when we get a text that a table opened up at the new Mediterranean restaurant on Federal Highway. They give us all the hummus and Baba ganoush we can eat as we watch the belly dancer shake her age appropriate belly fat from table to table. 😎 Next stop fro-yo to claim our free ( after ten times punched on the card) dessert.

Have a great Thursday– aka senior discount day at Publix.