How to Win Friends and Influence People.

“Understand people’s anxiety- Always have a suntan-” Aristotle Onassis-

Dale Carnegie-kind and ever so real. He Won friends and influenced people he never met. His basic principle to aim for cheerful friendliness and approach things with zero ambiguity. His motto “Don’t criticize, condemn or complain.”

His book has gone the distance on the daily, like our morning coffee and Al Rokers weather report. His suggestions served as the prototype for all The Chicken Soup for the Soul publications. Helen Gurley Brown in her Cosmopolitan style, told it like it was as career and love life merged, through red lipstick and panty hose, we listened.

Who remembers Revlon “coffee bean” lipstick and a spritz of Shalimar on the way out the door to hang with friends?

We watched, we must confess, early on when Phil Donahue met “That Girl” and interviewed Jean Nidetch (founder of Weight Watchers.) We learned the value of zero point foods in an attempt to keep our girlish figure.

Back to -Oh Dale, how your words resonated loud and clear upon first read and today when we need a reminder. That unpleasant look from so and so the other day had everything to do with them and very little to do with us. People project their feelings and own bias when they’re defending the one side of the story they didn’t hear.

We long for the days when we walked into the candy store and put the new Betty and Veronica, Little Dot and Dennis the Menace comics on the counter next to our bazooka and red licorice treats. How bout the primordial smells of the gum in the pack of baseball cards that one of the kids on your block shared with you? The very familiar smell of a brand new spalding ball lingers on in our bag of childhood treasures. Exhuming those scents easier than remembering, well a-lot these days.

We believe our first art lesson was on Etch a Sketch, and early writing lessons happened through creating stories of where Barbie and Ken would go on their honeymoon. We thought Bermuda would be nice. One guilty pleasure we recall was chewing double bubble, piece after piece (not knowing we were helping our dentist enjoy his summer home in the Berkshires with each bubble that landed smack across our faces.)

Oh the 60’s, where art thou now? Our world is bleeding out of control. Worry, insomnia and zapped energy a deleterious trifecta too common in our everyday. So hit it Dale-“ Get busy. Keep busy. it’s the cheapest kind of medicine there is on earth- and one of the best.” Thanks, Mr. Carnegie -we’re in.

A bissel fun dizes, a bissel fun dizes.
Who isn’t sleeping in the auditorium while a Benny Goodman look alike a.k.a. King of Swing plays “Sing Sing Sing” on his clarinet?
Save us seats on the aisle we call out to the new couple we met at water aerobics and had dinner with in the dining room tonight. Yum to the Lamb chop special and Key Lime. Could you plotz?
Go know, their cousin from Rockland, Murray Katz is a jeweler we bought Jewish stars from as Bat Mitzvah gifts for our granddaughters.

Such a mensch, he threw in the chains. B’h Murray.

Love the coincidences that come along as -a ha -moments in between schepping nachas and inconveniences. Shout out to J.D on minimizing not fun stuff and couching them as “inconveniences.” You shouldn’t know from the big stuff. Vayismir.

So just for today we will get pickled herring from Russ and Daughters, nova from Sables, bagels from Tal, cheese cake from Juniors in the theater district, babka from Barney Greengrass, cookies from Levain and Eat like no one is watching.

Is Everyone in the Building making Stuffed Cabbage?

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

The consummate Steadfast lodestar of comic behaviors -99 and going Fine.

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.)

On this day June 27th in between mitn drinnen, we’ll stop at the pitch and putt in our local Calaveras County. We’ll be careful to watch for the jumping frogs as it is their high season.

With dejavu on our breath we’ll turn up the radio that is set to Cousin Brucie on our local WABC Am. The top is down on our new yellow mustang, saddle interior convertible. Our hair (what is left of it) blows in the late summer breeze ( which makes us feel fine.) We add some metal to the pedal.

We will sing along to the catchy phrases “in the village the mighty village The Lion Sleeps tonight.”

“In this whole world, you can love but one girl. Let me be that one girl. For I’ll be true to you. End quote. Loud shout out to our Devoted Soldier Boys. G-d Bless You.

We heard they added some new holes at the aptly named Periwinkle Pitch and Putt. One hole is named after Mark Twain and one named after Shania. We are thinking maybe his great niece. We’ll try their new chili dogs, curly fries and awful awfuls. For dessert we add a peppermint stick (a la Howard Johnsons) ice cream cone and call it a near perfect walk down memory lane.

As we wake up and wait to hear what devastating news is in the core of our arena, we thank G-d one of our nearest and oh so dearest made it home safely from Israel. Welcome home LHG.

Amidst access to weapons readily available to children, we will double down on prayers as memories of better days trickle down our faces couched in tears.

The days when the alarm system in our house (who had those growing up?)- didn’t go off because armed villains were coming into our safe haven to steal our black and white T.V.’s we watched Bonanza and Columbo on let alone our Lives.

So just for today, pick up a T.V. Guide and look to see what time Gene Rayburn is hosting The Match Game on NBC. Have a great weekend.

What shall stay and what shall go? 

Boxing up closets and dresses from the 90’s.

Pack, give, donate categorically, here try these.

Lots of good shoes our feet no longer like.

Sweaters and shirts that look awfully tight.

No longer play tennis, hence sneakers galore.

Throw out the excess on this we implore.

Glance quickly on the memories attached to ties and cravats.

Put in the pile marked “we almost forgot.”

No longer question the where, when or why’s.

How many socks do we need to stockpile?

The beige, green and yellows are really quite vile.

No longer go sleeveless so get rid of that look.

Culottes, anything madras, tennis sweaters in the-to be took.

( I know correct tense counters- but it rhymed.)

How many black skirts does a girl really need?

In the give away pile we clearly agreed.

Shirts that sported cuff-links a thing of the past.

Held so many evenings that were really a blast. 

We are not shedding memories, just getting rid of the clutter.

I really want those suspenders under his breath, he did mutter.

Pin-stripped blue suits worn on days spent in court.

You know when you know when changing locales feels “just right.”

Don’t hold on to lacoste tee-shirts, they are really too tight.

So back to the pj’s with holes everywhere.

Sorry not keeping, not precious, not dear.

Mark on the boxes “please enjoy our formal gowns.”

Keeping our eyes on the future in the absence of frowns.

How bout the britches, oh the horses we rode. 

Savoring the memories, with more to unfold. 

Ok then, it’s time close up the box.

Sneak one more peek.

At the Bell bottoms which were over the top.

The U of BS.
One semester completed at The U of Broken Sound.
Profound, renowned with two feet on the ground.
We were meeted, greeted and not deleted. 🙏
We played games with cards, tiles and some balls.

With pilates our cores got stronger, with stretch class our legs seem longer.
Waited on line at Publix for our “Bogo’s”-buy one get one free.
Had a shopping cart collision at The Boy’s.

Go ahead taste a piece -the fruit it’s so sweet.
Another great spot for a- you’ll never know who you’ll meet.
Remember the woman I told you about who I met at canasta?

She was faster. a master and said “give a kick” let’s have coffee afta.
Could you plotz?
So with 6 months in we went for the win.
We played jukebox bingo.
Shared dinners at the Old Course with friends.
Got an A in listening to knee problems, sciatica, some dermatitis, maybe the flu.

The elongated complaints that never end.
Met a neighbor who knew a friend, who (go figure) went to camp with us too.

As we pack up for the end of season. Add a pinch of sweet sorrows, laced with hugs good- bye. (for now.)
Our take away memories of winter. Our best shot, a wholesome try.
See ya after the holidays in September.
We’ll be back at the end of Fall.
We are hitting the ground running, ( maybe a quick walk.)
G-d speed to one and all.

Is Everyone in the Building making Stuffed Cabbage?

Ode to Ann Bancroft’s very best guy. 

We binged a few Mel Brooks movies this week and we quote-it’s talent. Either you got it or you don’t.  unquote!

Dear Mr. Mel Kaminsky a.k.a. Mel Brooks.

The consummate Steadfast lodestar of comic behaviors almost 99 and doing fine.

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 Zey gezunt Mr. Brooks and may you continue to make sure we Enter Laughing.(1967.)

Blintzes with a side of Nostalgia!

It’s 4:45 when we begin thinking about dinner.
We have an hour to get ready.

We put on a new blouse and hope It won’t get a food stain on it. This is new.
We walk out the door.

We’re on line at our go to restaurant of choice. Long line but we are in the door, getting closer to the table.
We grab some after dinner mints at the counter and a couple of tooth picks while we wait. If we order the corned beef and it is stringy the toothpicks will come in handy.
Oy, the beeper they gave us to hold just went off.
We push through the crowd, disregard the dirty looks. We’re in and being escorted to our table. “Excuse me sir maybe you got a booth? My husband has a bad knee, is a lefty and needs to sit on the outside and with his leg facing out. TMI-
Again a dirty look, alas we are sitting.

Here honey have a pickle, it’s a good mix and they have the sour tomatoes you like.
We catch up with out friends about medical stuff and get it out of the way.

I point to my mouth as to signal our friend that a piece of coleslaw is stuck to her lipstick. Yup, not a good look at any age.
So we open the menu of oh so many choices.
Excited that the two sides with our main course we can “substitute” did you ever? A potato knish or potato pancakes instead of baked or mashed.
Glad we swigged a little mylanta on our way back into the house because we forgot oh, well something.
Our orders are in.
Only took twenty minutes for four people to decide. Not like it is ever an easy order going through the book of choices. Unless you had a willy for something. Like you could taste it.
“Saul my friend says to her husband of all the many items to choose from a hamburger deluxe with sweet potato fries is what you are getting.”Saul says to my husband, can you believe with everything going on in the world you would think if I want a hamburger it would maybe, just maybe once go unnoticed and not a gonza magilla. Do I tell her a side of balsamic dressing is not going to matter in her salad if she orders the fried chicken as her main?”
Ok, so we get our food and only one of us returns something- a veritable miracle.

My friend sent her fried chicken back, she only likes dark meat. She says go ahead eat. Your meatloaf won’t taste good cold.
So we talk over one another. We know every detail about their grandkids camp experience and how long they waited at the airport when they went to Aruba this summer.

The table is cleared, a new dessert menu is handed to us. Wait, oh my they have the Boston Cream Pie tonight. I ask my husband if he wants to share, I suggest four forks and one dessert. You would think I was taking their toys away.
No, my friends husband Saul says I am getting my own. Under her breath I hear my friend whisper “ maybe get the jello, you ate every sweet potato fry. Then “ give a kick” he says to her- mind your own sweet potato fries, did I mention that you inhaled the potato pancakes like they were going out of style.

Goodnight, it was great seeing you we yell out the car window. Same time, same place- next week. We took the flyer at the door it says the specials are chicken in the pot or flanken. See you in the morning at water aerobics. Vayismir I am so full.

On this day April 15 in between mit’n drinnen, we’ll stop at the pitch and putt in our local Calaveras County. We’ll be careful to watch for the jumping frogs as it is their high season.

With dejavu on our breath we’ll turn up the radio that is set to Cousin Brucie on our local WABC am.

The top is down on our new yellow mustang convertible, our hair (what is left of it) blows in the late summer breeze ( which makes us feel fine.) We add some pedal to the metal and sing along to the catchy phrases “ in the village the mighty village The Lion Sleeps tonight.” “In this whole world, you can love but one girl. Let me be that one girl. For I’ll be true to you.” We will wait patiently, we understand the Duke of Earl is about to arrive. We hear he’s shrouded in Blue Velvet the kind that’s softer than satin in the light.

We heard they added some new holes at the aptly named Periwinkle Pitch and Putt. One hole is named after Mark Twain and one named after Shania. We are thinking maybe his great niece. We’ll try their new chili dogs and awful awfuls. How about a peppermint stick (a la Howard Johnsons) ice cream cone for dessert and call it a near perfect walk down memory lane.
As we wake up to devastating news on the daily, in the core of our arena, we thought exhuming a moment in time when the term “homegrown criminals” only existed on Breaking Bad, when access to weapons were not readily available to 14 year old children and when the alarm system in our house (who had those growing up?)- didn’t go off because armed villains were coming into your safe haven to steal the black and white T.V.’s. you watched Bonanza on.

So just for today, pick up a T.V. Guide and look to see what time Gene Rayburn is hosting The Match Game on NBC. We are all in Jeopardy.

Chapter One “In the Land of VPL’s.” It all began while we waited for a parking spot at the Boys 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. A zuchen vey.
The name of the place could be changed from The Boys to the “I’ll trade you my spot for the container of prepared lasagna I didn’t get cause the line was too long.” Lach.

Btw if you open the cantaloup container put it in tupperware cause getting the lid back on is a gansa megillah.

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. Today the strawberry containers are two for the price of one. Could you plotz?

They can serve them next to the bridge mix (chocolate covered nuts and…) at the canasta game they are hosting later. They are using the new card table they bought at the furniture store that specializes in small furniture. The table should fit well in their new condo. It is next door to 3 ggg’s, the almost like a New York Deli restaurant. Sorta.

Ok, sidebar back to the VPL’s – (visual panty line leggings.)
They feel like a combo of spandex, helancas and stretch pants. A good switch from dungarees, pedal pushers and tummy control skorts.

You can get them cheap at the going out of business flea market on Sample Rd.) The handwritten sign says “one size fits nobody over the age of 25.” Cheaper by the dozen if you like the color maroon. The booth is next to the hawaiian print men’s short sleeve shirts which are bogo (buy one, get one) – like the light mayo at Publix. We got enough mayo for 6 months. So many bargains we’re plotzing.

So we made it through the (you shouldn’t know from it) parking lot. 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… Have a good go to humor Sunday. b’h