Judy Gomberg puts a funny, heartfelt and humorous spin on being a boomer. She beautifully captures the songs of our lives as our memories grow longer, deeper and stronger.
Relief in a “don’t let the door hit you in the butt way,” was our reaction to Kamala Harris becoming Joe Biden’s running mate. In a minute and for the first time since Jan 20, 2017- (yes Donald, you schmuck,) the year was 2017 not 2018- we sighed, cried and felt possibility. There is no magic fix for the tragic mistakes in judgement by our misanthropic despot, however “Hope” is the elixir we prayed for and it feels magical. Just for today, let’s embrace possiblity with the huge hugs we have missed for 6 months. Take your baton out of storage, shine your penny loafers and gear up to walk over to the post office for your mail in vote for Biden/ Harris 2020.
Let’s trace it on our folded hands in prayer. We own so many memories and with so many dreams still to be realized we will pace the floor for 87 more short days. Pathological non-truths transported through irrational rhetoric have led the way beyond the expiration date. Scientific facts and facts alone will stand center stage. A modern day John Wilkes Booth with a derringer has house seats on Nov. 3. Get ready Andrew Johnson a.k.a. Joe Biden the reins are waiting for you and then, only then will one of our still to be realized dreams come true.
Dear Humpty Trumpty Show us the money 4 years of antics None of them funny People have died, with blood on your hands The country ignored with reasonable demands Your grimacing and bs-ing is coming to a halt All of our tragedies, were no doubt your fault You have punished our country Secreting knowledge you had You deserve everything you get, as long as it’s bad Once upon a time, with an enormous amount of luck Our fate in your hands You disgusting F-ck Your karma has switched and you‘re loosing at your game Like soldiers at war our country de-famed The health card you played as if it were a game A legacy you will leave riddled with shame On November the 3rd you will no longer choose, the number of lives Our country will loose, The Supreme Court has taken a stand against the tide The cheers and the glory can be heard worldwide.
We come with anticipation and leave with hope. Time spent with the kids helps to add a dimension of calm to our difficult days. You expressed you wonder what the kids will remember of this time in our troubled world. I certainly pray that a piece of their take away is, mask or no mask, we helped bring a knowing reminder of happier and more frivolous times during luckier days shared.
“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!
Dear Abby, I am looking for a little more distance relationship. Alone time essential. Not sure I am going about it in the right way. I figure I can advertise what I have been doing during quarantine but not certain there is much appeal to honed skills in ordering paper products in bulk. I have lost my sparkle, forget about a glow- and pasty and fleshy hold no appeal. I suppose zoom pilates could have been an alternative to my physical deterioration, oh well. I could add to the list, perfected cooking garlic and not burning it as I turned away to take another gulp of my Stoli- hold all judgements during this time in history i.e. “gulping.” We all have our whatever gets you through the night coping mechanisms. I have learned restraint and limitations in I know longer lay like a lump and binge watch a whole season of “Imposters” in one sitting. If you haven’t seen it put aside the time to sit, it was Fun (see Netflix). I have surrendered some of my rules about pretzel crumbs in bed- in a do what I do, not what I say way. I limited my instagram induced haze and have a few must follows. “Onefunnymommy” and “thelesliejordan” are extremely funny, delivery talented. I don’t know how appealing adding Gas-x to my morning routine is but it is clearly my best delivery tip. Fruits and vegetables are seasonally delicious now. Thank you Bettie Ann for getting an associate degree in Gastrointestinal Disorders. All the years of watching medical shows and your thesis on Dr. Marcus Welby M. D. paid off. Your depth of stomach fix wisdom -extraordinary. I could list how excellent I have become in applying my own hair color and how covering back of head strong through 4 MONTHS I have become. Bringing attention to the aging process holds zero appeal even to those in the know. Perhaps my skills at Canasta Junction and Mahjong on line will interest someone, but desperate measures don’t cut it. So as I round out my time with strict “Age appropriate” precautions, I pray for the day when social distancing becomes a choice and not mandatory. When wearing a mask and glasses would be to avoid running into someone you would prefer not to see for small talk and no longer a health saving measure. Foremost, when beautiful grandchildren can hug you from the waist up, while we are no longer on our knees praying for a safe, new normal. Signed #Prayingstrong!
From Bris to Bar Mitzvah in the blink of 13 years. Fast forward two years as we get ready to watch a virtual 8th grade graduation, a wonderful rite of passage. Shrouded in blessings, with open hearts, we add Shep nachas moments. The emphasis is set to Fun and then our time unfolds. We throw in a heaping spoonful of sugar in Mary Poppins fashion and hit the ground running. We are the playful, protective, snack enablers, all the while overseeing the art projects and new Scooby movie. We greet Club Gomberg with the same line each time, calling out from from the kitchen – “who’s here?” We can’t wait for them to come with feelings of anticipation, seldom matched . We let them know all are welcomed, as more is certainly merrier. Our cabinets hold the “regulars,” and snack time begins. On the nights of sleepovers we would close the blinds, and it would be the Stars, the Moon and “Us.” These years add years to our lives, as they add a potpourri of memories to theirs. In the game of bridge finding the right 8 card fit depends greatly on how your partner plays his cards. In this case the deck was stacked in our favor. Our “good- byes for now” are always with the look of “when will we do it again?“ So for today we’ll press the reset button and make it a true daily double. We will put “All our Eggs in One Basket.“
