“When I was just a little girl I asked my mother what will I be?

Here’s what she said to me.

Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be.

The future’s not ours to see.

Que sera, sera.

What will be will be.”

And then she let go of my hand and “what will be” became what is.

How much easier life would be if we had a crystal ball for which to see.

The future unfold before it came.

Minimize the struggles, our choice of game.

Challenges and misfortunes factored into the fold.

Gives us our backbone, our strength to behold.

With times so uncertain, a future unclear.

Our nearest and dearest become more clear.

But just for a moment with a dream in place.

Take away the name, add a new face.

If we could throw our troubles back into a pot.

Would we accept beshart?

Be grateful for what we got?

I suppose we would, but just for today.

With a dream, a prayer and fantasy intact.

We’d trade some for sure, not take ours back.

With less of that and more of this.

Our hardships, our strife wouldn’t be missed.

As fate unfurled, at our front door.

The cards were dealt, we tallied the 

score.

Divine order in place, sensibility kicked in.

Focused on blessings, called it a Win.

“When I grew up and fell in love,

I asked my sweetheart, what lies ahead?

Will we have rainbows,

Day after day.

Here’s what my sweetheart said-

Que sera, sera

Whatever will be will be,

The future’s not ours to see

Que sera, sera”

Make it a good day!

There’ll be swingin’ and swayin’ and records playing.
Dancing in the street. Unquote.

Alright 25 show us what’s on “tap.”
Right-left-right cha cha cha.
24’s about to wrap.
Let’s do the hokey pokey.
Double down and bet the store.
We ‘ll turn on the victrola.
And dance across the floor.
A little twist and hully gully.
If that’s what it will take.
Then we’ll lindy hop and jitterbug.
No more dancing just in place.
Hit the ground and sprint ahead.
Add input to affect a change.
Come on boogie woogie bugle boy.
The top man of your craft.
“Stroll” into the New Year and bring along your draft.
Let’s “tap” into the Bossa Nova.
Rock and Roll and “all that jazz.”
Bunny hop and two step.
Swing dance with great pizzazz.
Step one, dance two.
Shouts The Chorus from the line.
Fine tune an Arabesque, stay on Pointe and redefine.
Add elbow grease to team effort.
Realign your goals in mind.
Offer a leg up, if anyone falls behind.
So as you chasse across the finish line.
Or Fred Astaire across the ceiling.
We will welcome in this brand new year.
Position one as we are kneeling.
Hit it Elton.
“So goodbye yellow brick road.
Where the dogs of society howl.
You can’t plant me in your penthouse.
I’m going back to my plough.”
And to all a Good Night!

                   ATE
Sometimes all it takes is 20 minutes of insane courage for something great to happen.
The 8 ball- eight card fit-eight hands playing at two tables – 8 is enough- Dinner at 8. 18 is chai – . Eight heart stealing Gomberg kid’s.

One thing the number 8 symbolizes is the ability to make decisions. With a legacy of parents who got a babysitter and then drove around trying to decide where to go and what to do, we have taken our primordial history and flipped it. Date book in hand, organize the games, get the tickets. Don’t let history repeat itself. Be decisive right or wrong. Make a decision. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn’t make decisions-end quote- 😎

The Pythagoreans called the number eight “Ogdoad” and considered it the “little holy number”. Number 8 – make it a Gr8 Friday.

Calling all first time nine hole-rs.

You’re only as good as your last shot. 

Is it just the positioning-or the synergy between you and the club. 

Or all of the above- or not?

Forget about precision.

Focus on one thing at a time.

  Just go out there have fun, you

   will do just fine.

“The time has come 

The Walrus said.

To talk of many things.” Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax—

Is it your eye on the ball, or the follow through, or simply the strength of your swing? 

The further you hit the ball.

The more you’ll double down. 

Outdoors and 9 holes breezy.

Or 18 as in chai.

Plant your feet on the course, hit a putt in just two.

Count blessings you’re out there learning something brand new. Phew!

We’ll Drink a Cup of Kindness yet.

For the Sake of Auld Lang Syne.

2025 let’s see what’s waiting at the door.

Signing off on 24,’

 and all that came before.

We’ll bring along our mojo.

Add an extra step to our beat.

Let’s try a new approach.

Pulling back on our bittersweet’s.

The unknowns are the challenges.

So far from our control.

We are ready, willing and able.

To the sound of the drum roll.

Creating a new template,

To diminish woes and strife.

The ultimate of goals.

To maintain a meaningful life.

We’ll add some new faces.

Replace the naysayers of joy.

Let’s welcome 2025

Hear, Hear the Real McCoy.

A you’re Adorable, B you’re so Beautiful.

Somedays a song enters our mind and we skip along -dot, dot, dot. 

“If they could see us now, that little gang of ours.”

Cause it’s a long, long way from May to December and I don’t want to walk without you Baby. Walk without my arm about you Baby.

I have often walked down the street before. But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before. All at once am I-  speaking of my Sweetie Pie only 60 inches high. Every inch is packed with Dynamite. That’s my little Honey Bun. Get a load of Honey Bun tonight.

10 cents a Dance. That’s what they pay me. Gosh how they weigh me down. 

Cause oh how we danced on the night we were wed. We vowed our true love, though a word wasn’t said. The world was in bloom, there were stars in the skies. Except for the few that were there in your eyes… This put us sitting on top of the world, rolling along, yes rolling along. 

Maybe I didn’t love you.
Quite as often as I could have.
Maybe I didn’t treat you.
Quite as good as I could have.
But you were always on my mind. Always on my mind.

Hit it.
One Day you’ll look to see I’ve gone. For tomorrow may rain and I’ll follow the Sun. “You might just make it after all.”

Have a lyrical kind of Saturday with a Fringe on the top. Mic Drop.

What happens when corned beef and pastrami meet on the corner of Potato Knish and Dr. Brown’s Soda? They bump into the Salami on rye with deli mustard sandwich and all get ready to watch as Mr. Ed whispers to Ozzie and Harriet a cute story about (who remembers their neighbor Thorny- Played by Don Defore? Yup! Run on sentence.

They are meeting over at Donna Reed’s house to watch the Beaver and his brother Wally take on Ken Osmond a.k.a. Eddie Haskell in a game of H-O- R- S-E, in their driveway.

After a pot luck dinner with bread pudding for dessert they sit around the piano and sing out loud with My Little Margie, Aunt Bee who got a ride over with Barney and was escorted by Opie. Oh “kay” then. They take out the game of Clue and wait for That Girl ( Marlo Thomas) to be Bewitched by (Elizabeth Montgomery) all the while Ann Sothern, who came with Don Porter is taking the minutes of the day.

In prances Eddie Albert with the fur clad, diamond bearing Eva Gabor from their Green Acres via Park Avenue Pad. And- a good time was had by all.

They also played monopoly trying to remain financially solvent while forcing their opponents into bankruptcy. So who let the dogs out?

The surprise guest was Jim Backus. He came in and announced “I Married Joan,” and they all agreed that everyone Loved Lucy.

The category is Sitcoms in the Sixites. We’ll take our fav Columbo for $1000.00. Please. And I quote – “Just one more thing. There’s something that bothers me. One more question. My wife. What did you pay for those Manolo Blahniks?

Make it a “Sunday in the Park” kinda day!

East Side – West Side all around the town! Stephen Sondheim-

“… Down in front of Casey’s

Old brown wooden stoop,

On a summer’s evening we formed a merry group.

Boys and girls together we

Would sing and waltz.

While Tony played the organ on

The sidewalks of New York.”

As an apprentice under Oscar Hammerstein,

Consummate wordsmith brought words to the point of a rhyme.

His work spanned theatrical lifetimes, his sense of rhythm, was simply sublime.

His content dictated the form as a sentence.

Turned a paragraph into a story through rhyme.

Sinatra sent in the clowns, and Bernadette Peters took a walk through the park with George.

Ambition only superceded by talent.

Like when “good things get bettter/bad things get worse/Wait—I think I meant that in reverse.”

He took us “Into the Woods” and in good “Company” were we.

Every theater lyric a short story, every line the weight of a paragraph you see.

“A funny thing happened on the way to the Forum with a “Little Night Music,”

And a “Gypsy” or three.

With “Passion” he composed the story,

From the “West Side” of the street was the call.

Dear Mr. Sondheim, in our memory, you will always, yes always Stand Tall.

You threw a lot of spaghetti and All of it stuck to the wall.

Have a Great day. 

In Sondheim-esque fashion-face the music, whistle a tune and sprinkle some passion as your day goes along.🎼

Our hearing is not what it used to be, 
And all the jazz.
Our patience is on the borderline,
And all that jazz.

So we watch where we are walking.
As falling is simply no good.
Our laugh lines are no longer laughing.
Dreary and dismal our predominant mood,
And all that Jazz.

So you left the water running and the door was slightly ajar.
If we were reading this new reality,
We’d be sure to hobble far.
The early bird specials are appealing,
Soup or a salad comes with.
Are we really living this chapter?
Please tell me we are just dreaming this.

Our morale is down in the basement,
Can’t find our get up and go.
The daytimes are getting shorter.
Our energy is running on low.

Brushed off the cobwebs of winter.
Planted some seeds in the ground.
Mallomars flew off the shelf,
We are turning this chapter around.
Wishes come two in a package.
We are thinking we’ll sign up for four.
Dog days will soon be behind us.
We will set the table for more.

Our new pair of sneakers are waiting.
We can get back on the treadmill of life.
We will grasp at our new found mojo.
Say goodbye to the anguish and strife.

So long to this dose of drama.

Let’s make it a thing of the past.
Say good-bye to the dark days of winter.
It just was a matter of time.

So pull your chair up to the table, 
It feels like all will be fine.

Double down for your chance at the win.
The sunshine it is a coming.
A new dawning day will begin.

And all that jazz.

When the early bird catches the extra blintzes.

It’s 4:45 when we begin thinking about dinner.

We have an hour to get ready.

We put on a new blouse we got at the Flea Market and hope It won’t get a food stain on it. Stains are 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. One minute we are here- looking for the beeper which is carefully sequestered in our “handbag.”

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 our friends about medical stuff, when the grandkids will visit and get that conversation out of the way.

I point to my mouth as to signal our friend that a piece of coleslaw is stuck to her very red lipstick. Yup, not a good look at any age.

So we open the vast menu of oh so many choices with melted cheese.

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. How lucky can you get?

Glad we swigged a little mylanta on our way back into the house because we forgot oh, well something.

Our orders are in. We look around the room and notice someone we met at water aerobics- we wave across the room. 

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 become 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. We don’t want to tell her it came that way.

So we talk over one another. We know every detail about their grandkids new school 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. Two sides -vu den? See you tomorrow at Bingo.

Vayismir I am so full.

Have a good Sunday!