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!

5783 we stand and Pray for what’s meant to be.

Have we been naughty?

Remembering our nice.

Hoping this year is less riddled with strife.

We muster up energy.

Call on new tactics.

Add new behaviors.

That won’t take much practice.

Let’s focus on attempting to better mistakes.

This time around aim for fewer retakes.

When fraught with uncertainty,

Apply the rules we were taught.

A New Year is dawning.

A new chapter begins.

Keep your eyes focused.

The goal a Win/Win.

Mix in wisdom, add a dose of measured passion.

Together is better- our one constant fashion.

If you watched Channel 7 at 9:00 last eve- fast forward this. Celebrating Norman Lear on turning 100. If you didn’t you might want to on demand it for an incredible tribute. Reposting my musing when he turned 100. July 27.

Norman Lear’s sentiments in Carl Reiner’s documentary on aging “If You’re Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast.” -exactly! His credo is find your “hammock” and live in the “now.” As he sees it the transition of time in between the “ok it’s over, to what’s next, is when his productivity kicked in. At the end of a writing project, leading with humor and sending a message -he kept hundreds of people in his audience laughing. And I quote- Go Beat that- Happy 100 years yesterday Mr. Lear.

HBO launched the documentary, catch it if you can. Mel Brooks is hysterical , Dick Van Dyke glides across the dance floor, Norman Lear is brilliant, Carl Reiner orator extraordinare. They were all Nonagenarians -Mr.Reiner RIP -Mr. Lear Happy “100” omg years.

A big take away message is if you spend too much time working off disappointments and complications you will be one miserable soul. Excuses hold no water when they are used without discretion. Limiting your “woe is me’s “ gives you more time to go for the gold. Give hugs, get attention where the tariff is reciprocal and strong.

The future might be an assumption but when you “find yourself in times of trouble ,” find your version of Mother Mary and become the ambassador of your estate. One thing the long “livers” had in common, whether or not chopped “liver” and french fries were mainstays, is that they fell in love with lots of things. They attached passion to their activities. They honed hobbies and had specific collections. Please pass the salt and pepper shakers collection strong. Cole Porter, hit it- “The night is young, the skies are clear- So if you want to go walking dear. It’s delightful, it’s de-lovely, it’s delirious.” Have a good Friday.

Dear G-d,

On the days before the Jewish New Year your presence in our lives feels even more pronounced. We sit still for a moment and reasonably try to evaluate where we could try harder, embrace change and clean up shop.
We hold on to the lessons that have propelled us into a place with more acceptance and the understanding that our journey is just that. The people in our path who are deceptive are there to help us understand wrong from right. The benevolent, kind and selfless offer us lessons for good values. One of your long term themes is for patience. We go along at our own pace and hope that our recognition of who needs a leg up grows more keen with time. Our gut is really our mind speaking through our heart. You know when you know. Don’t underestimate a vibe, a sideways look on someone’s face. Some of the people, some of the time.

When we are pushed to the limit in our values you leave us with the decision to hold tight or compromise and restructure. When we slip up and waiver we look over our shoulder for the feathers, or dimes you drop along our path.
We feel less alone.
There are days we wonder when it’s our turn again for you to come back our way. It’s often during our toughest lessons.
And so we wake up early, make the coffee as we begin the “Days of Judgment .” We will wait for the feathers, leave our “judgments” in the recycle bins and know, as long as we work together our backs will be covered. Gmar Chatima Tova.